The Dagger's Point: The Betrayal

The Dagger's Point
The betrayal of Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus

The story begins at the conclusion of the annual Exodus celebrations at the start of 29 ABY...

Alabrek Castle, Private Study
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

The old man was sitting quietly, smoking as always. The reddish grey smoke billowing out from between lips pursed around the stem of the ornate pipe. His ancient eyes trailed over the parchment held loosely in a slightly faded wrinkled hand. A drawing was loosely sketched in ink that had long since shifted to a rusted hue against the weathered parchment. He was familiar with the drawing itself, what interested him more so, were the more recent annotations in a hand very familiar to him.

“What is this madness, Trevarus Caerick?” The man said to no-one in particular. His black eyes seemed to glitter in soft candlelight.

“If I may be so bold, my Lord. The plan is rather elegant.”

“I will not deny the finesse… yet what you are asking is exceptionally dangerous.”
Jedgar Paladin said, his eyes not leaving the document.

“The ritual itself is a common consecration. It has been performed several thousand times, and if I am not mistaken… it was first documented by the Rakata themselves.”

“For someone seeking the lost Rakata Prime, you are well versed in its most controversial practices.”

“As you well know, my Lord, answers are easy… the questions are most elusive.”

“Indeed they are.” The wise man conceded.

“It is time, my Lord.” Trevarus said.

“Very well young one, the time of your folly is at hand.”

Five hours later…

Antechamber, Temple of the Void
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

Four beings stood quietly, listening to a low cacophony that seemed to reverberate through the very stones. The very air was electric with a sense of grim purpose, the eve of calamity that tinged the air with ozone as before a lighting strike. The utter hubris of Master and Apprentice would be realized, aided by one of the body they sought to supplant, the Star Chamber itself.

Trevarus opened his eyes, ice blue piercing the low darkness with a shimmering of malicious cheer. He seemed jubilant, like a child before opening a much anticipated gift. Eosara knew his old friend and boss all too well. His tight muscles bunched under his tunic, feeling for the reassuring weight of his blaster.

“Eosara, it is time for the Alpha Protocol.” He said evenly

“You must be joking, Trev. That’s kriffing stupid. Even for you.”

“Do as I say. Dawn has faded into noon, and the suns are fading to twilight. Soon, night will fall.” Eosara walked away from the three men remaining, into a shadowed corridor deeper into the Temple’s darkest reaches.

“Soon night will fall…” Vexatus said his voice murderous. So many years… and it came down to mere moments. Time was an immutable paradox, yet at the end, he finally understood his Master’s riddle.

“How many of the Ekind have assembled?” Paladin asked.

“All of them.” Trevarus answered. “No sooner had the final stone been placed, that they began a slow march into the Temple. They’ve been here for three days, prostrate. Their chant is a supplication to their fallen God; they seek to die in his name.”

“You did not summon them, call for them in anyway?” Paladin asked his question directly.

“No my lord. They merely arrived.” Trevarus answered.

“This is an unexpected variable. Yet, it should be even more advantageous for the sending we are about to perform. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Master and Apprentice said in unison.

All three had changed into robes appropriate for the consecration. Patterns and textures not seen for a score of millennia, long blood red, with elaborate halberds that resembled beasts of war. Priestly vestments adorned with the armored accompaniments of a warrior. Paladin held the Scepter of Urias Orian, Vexatus the Sword of Shar Dakhan. Trevarus himself carried naught but the Amulet of Urias Orian, the Fragment of Ombus shimmering faintly.

They walked up the stairs, three Lords, seeking to unmake creation.

Ten thousand of the humanoids surrounded the central dais. In perfect unison they bowed their foreheads to the ground, chanting in harmony. It was a low, deathly music, the last breaths of dying beings, the salute of Gladiators accepting their fate.

San Jerahu, sin Jerahar
Kan teslek coriare derahur
Trabanah san trehah kar

Vexatus gazed around the edifice. It was truly glorious reconstruction, he felt as if he was standing in the temple before it had been destroyed by the battle of his Master and Kiln Tobasa.

His Master. How foolish he thought that he still considered the sorcerer his superior, if only through that simple title. His own Mastery was at hand. This, he felt was perfect. These beings sang the legacy of the Sith. Thousands of voices paying homage to him, ready to die if only for his glory; such was right. He felt complete, knowing that his true place in the Force was at hand, as its Lord.

Paladin spread his hands, the Scepter clasped in his right hand.

“Kerahu na!”

So it begins. Trevarus understood the language of the ancient Sith as readily as Galactic Basic. Paladin spoke the opening words, and the Temple fell quiet, the mutant aliens falling quiet in final prostration.

As I command the Life of the Universe, so to does the death of the universe stay at my command.

Four Ekind approach Lord Paladin standing behind the black Altar.

The first, draped in robes of forest green and masked with the allegorical visage of Wisdom, places a silver chalice on the Altar, stepping back as Paladin speaks

“By the Guardians of the Watchtower of the North, the Spirits of Nonirgas, I summon the Songs of the ancient sage Tiamat, to call forth the Eternal Wind of Truth, and bear the sounds of triumph to our cause.”

The chalice will serve as the receptacle, as does the eternal wind.

The second figure steps forward now, clothed in robes of fiery crimson, with the screaming face of War. He places his hands over the chalice, red light issuing from from Paladin’s fingertips, billowing high from the chalice as the Ekind Priest pours in a measure of ashes.

“By the Guardians of the Watchtower of the East, the Spirits of Gaphamet, I summon Drivers of the Suns, the bringers of Fire and War, to scatter the ashes of the old order, which shall fall in our stead.”

The third priest steps forward, draped in deep black, the face of dread Justice covering his own. He empties a small leather bag of sandy loam into the chalice, sodden old blood. Paladin does not avert his eyes

“By the Guardians of the Watchtower of the South, I summon the Wisdom of Sandumar the Judge, the Spirit of the Earth, and the tillers of soil, to bring potent courage to our Brethren, that those who wouldst harry us, find swift death at their gates.”

Blood soaked soil from the tombs of Korriban, blood of the defilers, who met justice at the hands of the Guardian Spirits of the soil there, dead and diseased with ten millennia of corruption.

The final priest, draped in deep blue, steps forward, pouring silvery water from a crystal decanter into the chalice, intermingling with the ashes and blood. Small flecks of matter float the surface.

“By the Guardians of the Watchtower of the West, I summon the Sight of Kalukari, the vast spirits of the Ocean Void that the strength of our foes may crash with the ebb and flow of the blood-dimmed tides, over the shores of the bodies of their slain.”

Waters from the ancient oceans of Runculo, they are still salty and brimming with potent energies of purification.

Paladin raises his hands, yet higher, and throughout the assembled masses of the Ekind, their priests leading them, flash daggers high. In unison, steel meets flesh and with one swift stroke repeated between thousands, every assembled alien sliced a deep gash in their throat.

From the chalice, black smoke began to issue, turning into a fiery blaze that began reached into the ceiling. It crawled along the four points of the temple vault, following arcane runes carved into stone. It trailed along the central pillars, and down through the stone benches. Darkness was replaced by heat, as the bodies of the race were consumed in the fire of the most evil of rituals.

It seemed that the fire raged for an eternity.

After a mere heartbeat, it was over.

“Kerahu sin.”

It is finished.

Smoke cleared, and nothing remained of the Ekindu race. Trevarus breathed deeply of the acrid stain left in the Force. Energies mingled around him, and as he traced the intricate pattern of despair, he tasted triumph.

Jedgar Octavius Paladin cast his gaze to Master and Apprentice.

“I pray that you not survive, for the sake of all.”

The sounding of a small beep interrupted the grim warning of the Grand Master. Not interested in remaining to listen to more of Trevarus’s lies, the former Dark Lord thrust the Scepter of Hafa Chun into Vexatus’s hands. “Here.”

Paladin lifted the cowl of his robes and with a swirl of his bloodshine cloak he was gone, briskly strolling from the antechamber to leave the Master and Apprentice to their fate among the echoes of dead.

He had agreed to their plan. Confident it would spell their final destruction. But it still left a sour taste. This ritual was wrong. It was not of this life. It was the sort of madness of the ancient Sith the Star Chamber had tried to suppress.

Frowning, Trevarus retrieved his communicator from a pocket. He flipped it open and the blue-white image of Ashia Keibatsu appeared.

“Master Sadow, you’re going to be late for the Conclave.”

“My apologies, Lady Consul, I will not be in attendance. A more pressing matter requires my attention.”

“What… what are you talking about?” Ashia asked, genuinely confused.

“The end is at hand.” Trevarus said, ending the transmission.

Underground Chamber, Temple of the Void
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

Master and apprentice stood in a dusty hall deep underground, within one of the few chambers which had survived for thousands of years unharmed, situated directly below the restored ornate dais in the main antechamber far above.

For the first time in over five millennia the dark side once again permeated the room, drowning out all waking thought with an endless storm of voices of the dead and the damned. Master and apprentice barely noticed the shades of the thousands of Ekind swirling throughout the antechamber, looks of horror on their faces as they cried out in eternal damnation, never to become one with the Force. The ornate pedestal which adjoined to an infinitely more ornate obsidian fixture behind it sung of the Force, beckoning the pair before it to draw nearer and share in its forbidden fruits.

It sung of victory.

“The scepter,” said Trevarus Caerick coolly.

His apprentice held out his hands, the scepter recovered from Kangaras earlier that year resting atop his open palms. The sorcerer took the scepter, gripping it firmly with both hands. Calmly, he set it within the pedestal before them, lowering it until a telltale click then stepped back.

The violet gem set within its headpiece glittered in the soft light; the fragment of the Star of Ombus had led them here, now, to this very moment. The crystal was unmistakable. It had marked it as the scepter of Urias Orian himself. The Scepter of Orian, the final piece in an ageless puzzle, hidden away on the forgotten jungle world of Kangaras, guarding the secret of an ancient empire long forgotten.

The chamber rumbled quietly as hidden mechanisms whirred behind the stone beneath their feet. Dust which had laid dormant for thousands and thousands of years drifted free of the dark walls into a faint cloud, bathing the chamber in tranquil light. The grinding ceased after a couple of minutes.

“Well?” grunted Darth Vexatus impatiently.

As if hearing the Sith Lord, the ancient Star Map responded on cue. The raised device behind the pedestal unfolded, the three rune engraved arms opening and clicking into place. An orb of light burst from its heart, rising into the air. It exploded, light filling the room, a beautiful pattern of stars blinking into existence forming a projection of the galactic disk.

The room became filled with a cold haunting laugh.

Bridge
Imperial II-class Star Destroyer Harbinger
Dlarit Navy Flagship
Orian Space

“Governor on deck!” called Larin Gendash as he snapped to attention and saluted. When he saw who was with the Governor, his eyes widened and he hit the alarm key. He managed to move his hand toward his blaster before one of the troopers blew away his forehead. Panicked shouts echoed around the Bridge and men reached for weapons. Six fell dead.

Trevarus Caerick marched across the deck followed closely by the squad of black clad Obsidian Cohort, his face was hard, his expression resolute. Eosara, his immense majordomo stood as a mountain behind him

“Lord Caerick will spare you lives, save that no other disobey me. Set course for the Unknown Regions!”

The sorcerer lowered his face, raising his arms as he fell into a deep trance. Throughout the ship, crewmen went rigid, their eyes glazing over and their faces turning blank. The next moment the ship lurched into hyperspace and crewmen marched through the corridors single file in total silence. In the weapons room’s men began to load guns in synchronized precision, their movements becoming flawless, mechanical.

After a few minutes the sorcerer’s arms relaxed and he fell into a nearby chair.

“Years,” sighed Trevarus, relief flooding his features. His cold blue eyes had begun to turn a vivid shade of violet. “I have waited years to remove this mask.”

Behind him Darth Vexatus grinned. “We have waited long for this moment, my Master. How ironic we have your friend Jedgar to thank.”

Trevarus laughed. “Yes, it is quaint the Star Chamber has spelt its own demise. Alas, the Brotherhood is weak. It is vindicating.” The sorcerer grinned. “You are evidence of this my apprentice.”

Vexatus’s lip curled a little but it did not break his smile. “How true. It is their fault I had to die first in order to achieve our goal.”

“Death is nothing, Lord Vexatus.” Eosara growled his wild red hair flaming intensity around his features. “It’s what you have to do to get there.”

“I couldn’t have phrased it more appropriately, my old friend” Trevarus said, with a chuckle. Vexatus merely scowled.

Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus did not share ideologies but they shared in one vision. Freedom from all restriction. The prophecy of the Sith’ari, apotheosis, the Final Way, call it what one will. In the end, words mattered not, for words failed to describe the truth of their actions. Truth was a lie.

That is not to say they shared the same ideal. Caerick intended to liberate himself from the Force, Vexatus sought to consume it; either way, they both sought to rule it. They were two sides of the same coin, forever linked, yet forever infinitely different as well.

“Remind me to thank your holocron,” said Trevarus jokingly. “A shame I shall never be able to thank the good lady in person. I have a bottle of Alderaanian Noir I have been saving for just such an occasion.”

Darth Vexatus ignored the idle banter. His mind had already drifted ahead to what was to come on the planet Lehon, the home world of the Rakata, the seat of power of the Infinite Empire and home to the Star Forge in millennia past. They sought the Heart of the Force, a vessel of infinite power, created from the trapped souls of hundreds, if not thousands, caught in the destructive blast of a terrible thought bomb, much like the one with which Darth Bane had destroyed the Brotherhood of Darkness on Ruusan just over a thousand years ago.

The holocron of Antar IV had first revealed to them the existence of the ancient nexus of Force energy over a decade ago. The Heart of the Force had sparked Caerick’s quest to track down the fragments of the Star of Ombus, a similar nexus, hoping to piece the artifact back together and unlock its power. Alas, too many had been lost, even if the sorcerer had never given up on his search. However, it had helped lead Caerick to the Orian system and from there to discover the Antei system thirteen years ago.

Antei. The answer to the great riddle. There, the solution to their troubles had lurked in the ancient and forgotten archives of the Star Chamber. The irony was not lost on the pair how Caerick was now revered as a savior, one of the glorious Seven, praised for his vision in leading the Brotherhood to salvation in the black sands of Antei; yet all the while he had cared nothing for salvation, only to unlock the mysteries of that dead world. It had taken years, but eventually Caerick’s schemes and plots had paid off by securing his apprentice a position on the Star Chamber as Lord Cotelin’s apprentice.

The Falleen had known nothing of the plan at the time. Deniability before the will of the Sith Lords was absolute necessity, lest his apprentice be killed at the first whisper of betrayal. The sorcerer’s dark conspiracy soon paid off and his apprentice discovered the holocron of Darth Maestus within those ancient archives. Finally, the discovery of the planet Lehon in Maestus’s holocron as the resting place of the Heart had brought about the final answer to their quest. Why bother piecing together the Star of Ombus when there was a finished article just waiting to be found?

The Heart of the Force became the sole driving force behind their manipulation of the Brotherhood in the past three years, from their betrayal at the Battle of Antei to recover the holocrons from Kalekka Tower, to the Battle of Telos to break free of the Yuuzhan Vong blockade. Much had occurred by chance, such as the unexpected discovery of the Scepter of Orian in the jungles of Kangaras earlier that year, but reason mattered not. The dark side itself had clearly led them to this moment. This was destiny.

Now, with the coordinates in hand, all the pieces were finally coming together. More than a decade of work had brought them to this moment. The Heart of the Force would be theirs. Power, unlimited power, would be theirs to control.

And unlike others such as Exar Kun and Jerec they would not fail.

Besides. Who was there who could possibly stand in their way?

Auditorium, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

The entire Clan was assembled in the main auditorium, dressed in their best robes and gowns. It was a time of great celebration. Ten years since they were liberated from the shackles of the Empire. Ten years since they won their independence.

Many of them could remember the day well. The Battle of Phare had been a terrible conflict and many had not lived to make it to their new home in the Orian system. But today was not the day for looking back. Today was the day for looking forward.

Today was a day of celebration.

Astronicus Sadow was seated in his ceremonial throne at the head of the hall, flanked by his chief follower, Ashia Keibatsu, who was seated at his right hand. The chair to his left was noticeably empty, a thought that brought a bitter taste to the Overlord. Trevarus would stop at no length to displease him it seemed.

For all their dislike of one another, Trevarus had been one of the Seven; in fact, he had been the one to first suggest seceding from the Imperial Remnant to Lord Firefox. Manipulative as the sorcerer was, Astronicus still begrudgingly acknowledged what Trevarus had done for them. It was why he should have been here.

The Overlord pushed the thought from his mind.

“Brothers!” called Astronicus, rising from his throne. He waited a moment for the cheering and celebration to cease before continuing. “Ten years have passed. Ten years since we freed ourselves from the chains of the petty bureaucrats and corrupt politicians of the Imperial Remnant!”

That brought a cheer that even the Overlord could not hold back. Even among the newer members of the Clan, the anniversary of the Exodus was a time of celebration. It marked the day the Clan had triumphed over the remnants of Palpatine’s empire. It marked them as the true heirs to the Sith Empire of old, not Gilad Pellaeon and his ilk.

“Today is a day of celebration! Today is the day we celebrate our independence. Through the actions of the Seven and the leadership of Master Zorrixor and Master Caerick during that time of crisis, we, the Sons, Daughters and Disciples of our Lord, Naga Sadow, can say today that we control our own destiny. We are the true heirs to the Sith Empire of old.”

Astronicus raised a glass, poured for him by a nameless servant.

“A toast! To the future! To Clan Naga Sadow”

The assembled raised glasses.

Almost out of nowhere, Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus stood in the center of the auditorium. Their bodies seemed to shimmer faintly, something was amiss, yet there had they appeared out of thin air.

“What is the meaning of this? Astronicus demanded, dropping his glass where it exploded on the floor. “Where are you? Where have you gone with my ship?”

Trevarus laughed heartily. He raised his hand, and Tron curled over in a scream.

“You will be silent while Lord Caerick speaks, you trite fool,” the sorcerer said, menace ripe in his tone.

A pair of featureless, armored Black Guard dashed forward, Shin’ichi Keibatsu leading them with lightsabers already flashing to life. Vexatus raised a palm and the troopers slammed into the wall, some score meters away. Shin’ichi’s lightsaber flashed through the pair harmlessly. He fell to his knees, amazed. How was this possible?

“They will never understand their errors, Lord Caerick. Enlighten the august body of Clan Naga Sadow,” Vexatus said, almost laughing in his grim way. “Teach them.”

“The Final Way is at its conclusion, Clan Naga Sadow. Now here, at the endgame, you must understand. Power is not found in parties and pageants, it is found in a lifetime of death. You have not died, therefore you are blind. I alone saw the way, I alone sought the means to transcend the Force, I alone had the vision necessary to consummate the Final Order. Bow before me, and take your rightful place as my servants.”

“You deluded fool,” Astronicus spat. “We will find you, and we will crush you.”
Vexatus raised his hand again and lightning flashed blue-white from his fingertips. “Rather powerful aren’t you now, Lord Sadow.”

“Whoever follows will be destroyed. I have spoken.” Abruptly, both shades disappeared.

War Room, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

The main doors burst open as Ashia Keibatsu charged into the war room.

“What’s going on? What just happened in there?” demanded the former Nightsister, looking thoroughly irate at the anniversary celebrations being interrupted. Her eyes quickly scanned the room.

Astronicus Sadow turned to meet her gaze, there was a look of utter fury behind his eyes. “Caerick and Vexatus have betrayed us,” he said acidly, sounding as if he was only just managing to keep his anger under control and would explode any moment.

Ashia took a seat after Jedgar Paladin gestured for her to sit down. Her face twisted through a number of expressions as she played sequences of events through her head, trying to work out what could possibly be going on. The odd conversation with Trevarus suddenly made more sense.

My apologies, Lady Consul. A more pressing matter requires my attention.

Her hand rose to cover her mouth as she gasped in terrified realization of what the sorcerer had meant earlier that morning. Oh no . . .

Lord Sadow continued, “Three hours ago, Caerick and Vexatus boarded the Harbinger with a number of Caerick’s private guard. There were no communications from the Destroyer before it jumped, and we only have its exit vector.”

Astronicus turned his head to look at the elder gentleman standing to his side, “Lord Paladin?”

“Master Caerick has gone in search of the planet Lehon,” said Jedgar plainly, “I cautioned him against it when he requested my help in reconstructing the temple on Sepros but it appears he and his apprentice have a death wish.”

The Sith Lord continued, sounding as if he was the only person in attendance not utterly distraught by the unfolding events, but then, Jedgar had lived far longer than most and experienced the horrors of wars countless times. This was but one more conflict in the man's long and difficult life.

Still, there was an edge to his words when he finally continued, “Lehon is home to powers even the ancients thought better forgotten. It is certain to spell the end of them.”

“But we cannot take that chance!” urged Astronicus, his anger finally rising to the surface. “The entire Brotherhood . . . the galaxy is at stake!”

Jedgar appeared unperturbed by the interruption. “Lord Sadow is correct," the Sith Lord said, his tone darkening. "Remote as their chances are, should either of them succeed the result would be devastating. That kind of power is not meant for one individual. I am sure you have all studied the history books and know what became of Darth Nihilus in the Sith War four millennia ago.”

The Sith Lord paused reflecting on something, as if reading the thoughts of several assembled around the table. "Normally such a task would fall to the Star Chamber to deal with. However, with the Council in exile and unable to respond at such short notice this task falls to us. To you Clan Naga Sadow. The fate of the Brotherhood, perhaps of the entire galaxy, is in our hands."

“Are we certain Lehon is where they are headed?” questioned Ashura Isradia.

Astronicus keyed the central holo-emitter in the middle of the table and a chamber not unlike those of Sadow Palace appeared. A device, ancient even from the grainy holo image, was situated at the far end, a map of the galaxy projected above it.

“I had a private detachment install security monitors throughout that damn temple. I suspected something from the beginning. This image confirms Lord Paladin’s estimation.” The blurry holo clearly showed Trevarus placing the Scepter of Urias Orian into the ancient matrix. “There was something about that scepter they found on Kangaras, that was damned hush-hush. Since Antei, this Clan has been lied to and manipulated for their little quest.”

“So, what are you proposing exactly?” pressed Ashia, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway, still half expecting to wake up and discover this was all a horrible nightmare.

“Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus have played us all. Be under no illusion, their charade ends here. I have already recalled the Final Way,” said Astronicus. “Everyone is to assemble and we are going after them. We leave inside the hour.”

He paused as his expression dropped ever so slightly, a look almost of shame crossing his face, failure, for they were his sons and they were now lost forever.

Finally, the Overlord added, “To kill them.”

RSD Final Way
Orian System

Agrist stood behind Simonetti as the Overlords face faded away from the screen. “Looks like we've got trouble ahead.” he commented.
The Admiral shrugged. “We can catch the Harbinger though, when we do we'll see how good she is.”
“That's not the trouble I had in mind,” Agrist replied, “I'm not an expert on ancient mysticism but whatever they're planning is likely to be unconventional. If half of what I've heard about this Lehon is true they could be looking for virtually anything.”
“That's not my area,” the Admiral replied. “I'll have my ship prepared for pursuit by the time your people are aboard.”
Agrist nodded, and strode from the command deck, the guards saluting their Commisaar as he passed.

As soon as the turbolift doors closed the Battlelord smiled to himself. Living and working aboard the Final way gave little opportunities for direct action Whatever the threat Vexatus and Trevarus posed he would be ready. Despite the threat the former mercenary would enjoy fighting alongside his fellow clan members. The runaways would not know what had hit them.

War Room, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

So we’re going to kill them Ashura thought as he looked around the room, his eyes finally resting on Lord Paladin. Despite everything the Battlemaster still had to respect his adversaries; Trevarus was wrong however. Ashura understood death…he’s been there and returned to tell the tale. He might had even agreed with what the pair planned to do, but times changed, and he wasn’t about to leave the Clan to deal with this… especially now his son was a member too.

“I’ll put my departure on hold, Lord Sadow,” the Sith said as many knew he planned to leave soon despite others not wanting it, “there is nothing more important at this moment than stopping them.” Ashura had his own path he needed to follow but that could wait until later. He was still Quaestor of House Marka Ragnos, and Caerick’s betrayal ran deeper than just the Sons and Disciples of Sadow; it also affected the Disciples of Ragnos. How would it be seen? The Dark Primus, the final authority within the Disciples, had chosen death… would the Disciples of Ragnos follow him and serve him as they have done so for countless years? Was this was going to cause a rift within the ranks? Ashura was actually glad now Ashia decided to put Alector in House Ludo Kressh when he joined. He wouldn’t have experienced Trevarus madness; madness that the Isradia had a personal privilege of tasting first hand when the two of them served together for a time as House Summit. The former Aedile shook his head slightly, he should have known it was leading to this… maybe he even did, subconsciously that is.

Simus Institute, Sadow Palace

Alector Isradia had been there when it happened; he still couldn’t believe it. His two teachers had betrayed the principles of the Disciples of Sadow. It had only been a few days ago here at the Simus Institute that he was in Doctor Caerick’s class; the man was going over the principles of sorcery and its implications. He was upset, not that the Clan had been betrayed as such, but because he was going to loss two brilliant teachers.

“Did you see the look on the Rector’s face?” Davin said as the two of them were grabbing their gear. “Yeah,” replied the young Isradia, “if looks could kill Lord Sadow would have killed them both on the spot.”

“Why did they do it; that’s what I don’t understand?” The Jedi Hunter asked as both young men got what they needed and headed towards the shuttle to the Final Way where the rest of the Clan were waiting

“It’s about power, Davin, and who has it. Master Sadow understands the truth behind knowledge. That’s why he’s doing this.”

“You almost sound envious, Alector.”

Alector didn’t reply; although he didn’t know why his teachers had done this, he did understand the principle truth behind it. Power was everything. You either had it or you didn’t. What he didn’t understand was how two Elders were going to fight an entire Clan. The simply truth of the matter was Alector didn’t believe they could.

“I bet you cant wait for to step foot on the Final Way again,” Olar said changing the subject, “I bet it will be like reliving those three months you were there?”

“I hope not, Davin. I really don’t want Admiral Simonetti treating me as a Midshipman and having me running about the place as last time. Besides, this is going to be something I haven’t experienced before.”

“What is?”

“A battle.”

OOC: Here is Alector's wikipage for people to read and get a feel of the character.

Personal Quarters

The Krath entered his room, the bleak, dull gray quarters that were his room only consisted of a closet, a bed, and his lightsaber. He struggled to comprehend what had been going on, his focus was always on his Trials, and now that they were complete, a brand new opportunity had fallen into his lap. He would, like many of his Clansmen, would try to hunt down Trev and Xanos, only difference is Fenris was a Journeyman, and would be slaughtered by the Duo that was at large.

The Knight walked out of his room and made it towards the hangar, running into many familiar faces, none wishing to speak with him though, distancing themselves from his presence, as if he was plagued or something. It didn't matter, he began to increase his speed towards the Hangar, his boots clicking on the obsidian floors, his equipment jingling in the bag it was being transported in.

"Whats with the bag?" asked Davin, a fellow Journeyman who was on the cusp of becoming a Dark Jedi Knight himself.

"Personal things...like my lightsaber and necklace." said Fenris, who didn't like admitting he wore an heirloom from his Rattataki history. Davin only smiled, realizing that The Krath, who always seemed cold on the outside, was actually warm and not as mechanical as he liked people to think he was.

"Do me a favor Dav. Stick together with me and a few of the other Journeyman...something tells me we'll be facing monstrosities even the Vong couldn't fabricate. Just...stick with me..." spoke The Blind Krath.

Auditorium, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

Joseem hit the wall, hard. As an apprentice of Shin'ichi Keibatsu and Black Guard to Tsingtao Ming, Prefect of Gamuslag, it was his duty to follow his Master into battle. It was too bad that all his experience was for naught before the Force onslaught.

The impact left an impression in the far wall, roughly the same as Joseem's armor. He shook off the worst of it, but was still a bit dizzy when he got up. He ran over to his Master, who was already getting up and did not seem all that much worse for wear. Shin'ichi turned to Joseem and looked him square in the eye, hatred already starting to boil, "Go get Tsingtao and any of the other apprentices you can find. Plans need to be made."

As Joseem hurried off, an evil smile crept across his face as he thought, Now things will start to get...interesting.

War Room, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

Most of the summit had left the war room, there were a few examining nearby consoles to get update information but they paid little attention to the Overlord as he stared at the image of the star map. Treachery was one thing, but outright blatant boasting of deception was insult to injury. Not to mention that they had done it all in front of the entire clan, mocking him as if he was nothing. Rage welled up inside of Astronicus, ready to boil over were it not for his control of the power he possessed.

"Tsainetomo!" Bellowed the Overlord, knowing the Krath Priest was meddling with a console behind him, no doubt taking inventory of the Clan's active members.

"At your service my lord." Replied the Rollmaster. He was not nervous to be in the presence of the angered heir of Sadow, but was keeping himself composed despite the negative dark energy that was permeating from Astronicus.

"I want a list of their allies, apprentices, and anyone who served as a faithful steward to those two recently." Ordered the Sith Master. He did not need to mention their names, and it was probably best he did not, for if he had then he might have very well started on a rampage that would not end until blood was spilled. "And tell that damned Simonetti to hurry things up! I want to be out of here within the hour, the more time we waste the larger the gap between us and the traitors becomes."

"As you wish my lord." Said the Krath Priest. Tsainetomo turned back his attention to the console and began pulling up the requested data. There were actually quite a number of individuals on the list. Guessing what the Overlord would order next he arranged for the Black Guard and D-SOG to detain those on the list, all but one. "Sire, I have the list completed and the Black Guard along with D-SOG troopers are detaining the individuals for questioning. That is, all but one."

Astronicus turned to face the Priest to find out whom the one was, but noticed him out of the corner of his eye - Mononoke "Macron" Keibatsu Sadow. He was used as a pawn by the two most recently and had even been in their company during the operation to Selen. Macron's eyes widened as it sank in that he was the one, then as typical of him a wide grin appeared on his face. "How may I be of service to you, Overlord?" Asked the Mad Alchemist.

"Tell me everything you can about the two traitorous sons." Astronicus did not let it come off as a request or an order, but more of a demand that he should do it for his own best interests.

"Well, where should we begin?" Said the alchemist with a giggle.

----

The Archives, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

Vallen’dere sat hunched over a table where he was studying one of the ancient tomes stored in the practically legendary Sadow Archives. Every work in the entire Brotherhood, along with some even the Dark Hall lacked, this was the reason for Vallen’s obsession with this Clan. He had long desired to study the dark lore of the ancients, not that he saw eye to eye with the Brotherhood’s own vision.

A voice startled the diminutive Fosh, “Don’t move!”

Vallen felt the barrel of a blaster being pressed against the back of his head, forcing aside some of his feathers which quickly shifted white in fright.

A man wearing the black head-to-toe bodysuit of a special ops trooper stepped into sight in front of Vallen. His face was obscured behind a black visor making any expression unreadable. But Vallen could sense the man’s anger. He practically stunk of it.

“You’re coming with us,” the trooper growled. “The Disciples of Sadow have no room for traitors.”

“Traitor, I am not,” Vallen said urgently. “Mistaken, you are, I think.”

Vallen’s head snapped forward as the trooper behind him jabbed him with the barrel of his rifle. When the Fosh reflexively brought a hand up to rub the back of his skull to the sooth the pain throbbing through his head a third trooper slapped a stun cuff on his wrist.

The trooper who had spoken reached down to pull Vallen out of his chair, lifting him up by his feathers. Vallen winced, now barely restraining his anger, but too terrified to make a move. How could he stand against the forces of Naga Sadow in their own palace? What was going on? He had done nothing wrong!

Despite stuttering the Fosh managed the courage to ask, “Accused of what, am I?”

The trooper holding the stun cuffs slapped them on Vallen’s other wrist. The one who had spoken was still holding the tiny creature up by his feathers, he finally let go, but pushed away first, forcing the Fosh back into his seat with a loud thud. “Treason.”

Vallen’s eyes opened wide. “What?” he exclaimed. “Betray who have I?”

The trooper holding the rifle jabbed Vallen again, “Time to move, small fry.”

“Betray who have I!” cried Vallen again, this time more urgently as he slowly began to rise out of his chair but was dragged stumbling to his feet.

“For crimes against the Overlord,” the trooper said, “the sentence is death.”

Vallen was led away by gunpoint, leaving the tome he was reading open on the desk. The Fosh was going to have to think fast if he was going to figure out a way to survive this . . .

Prefect’s Office
Cenota Facility
Gamuslag, Orian System


Tsingtao was busy looking over the daily reports of the Cenota Facility. The Spaarti Cylinders were all in excellent condition. All inventories account for and cataloged. All experiments are stable. Tsingtao pondered what to include in his report to the Clan Summit. Obvious he wanted to stay in their favor.

Tsingtao’s console let out a chirp, signaling an incoming message. “Yes Lieutenant?”

“We have an incoming shuttle requesting permission to land. We have no scheduled crafts today, sir.”

The Lieutenant was a good officer but sometimes a bit slow. “Did they have the proper security clearance, Lieutenant?” Tsingtao could hear the Lieutenant shuffling to gain the information.

“Sir, they have high level clearance!” the astonished Lieutenant replied.

Shaking his head, Tsingtao let out a sigh. “Make sure that shuttle lands safely, Lieutenant and have them escorted to my office.”

“Yes, sir!”

A few minutes later, the Lieutenant entered the office of the Prefect, followed by a cloaked Zabrak. Tsingtao waved for the Lieutenant to leave and turned towards the Zabrak.

“Greetings, Joseem. What brings you to Gamuslag?”

“We missed you at the celebration, Prefect Ming.”

“That was today? Honestly, where does the time go? I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Master Shin’ichi requests your presence at the Sadow Palace.”

“Then Sadow Palace we will go. Hey, what happened to your armor?”

RSD Final Way
Orian System

Agrist reached his quarters and locked the door. He sat down at his desk and clicked on the terminal. "Display all information on planet Lehon."
The display flashed up. "Planet not found."
Agrist frowned. "Search galactic maps for planet Lehon."
"Search negative," the display replied.
He percevered. "Search all databanks in any category for word Lehon."
"Search negative on word Lehon."
"Ridiculous," he replied, "I've heard of it. It exists." He thought back. Where had he heard it? A long time ago maybe, though he didn't remember where. Maybe Severina or Anaxela? He sighed. "It must be there. Try again."
"Query not understood. Please refine parameters."
"You're no damn use!" he cursed, switching it off.

He sat back in his chair, thinking quietly. It made no sense. There were three posibilities. Firstly there could be no information. That was unlikely, the Dark Brotherhoods knowledge was impressive. Secondly the information was restricted for safety reasons. The was possible but it wasn't a good sign. Thirdly someone had deleted it. That was also possible but was a worse sign. He sighed. He was a strategist, he liked knowing what he faced so he could prepare. Whatever the two elders were up to they were leading the Clan into the unknown.
He remembered something. "Personal log," he said quietly, "send one bunch of expensive flowers to Vanise Tower, message to include 'My dear Meria, I regret I am forced to cancel our dinner tonight, my duties have called me away. I will return in several days. I hope we can meet soon. Agrist.' Make them expensive."
He sighed again. They said you only got one chance with Meria Vanise. He hoped it wasn't true.

Sadow Palace
Orian System

Malisane watched as the Fosh was dragged down the corridor. He wasn't concerned, true the creature had been an Envoy but that meant he should have had the sense not to get involved with the Sith Lord. It wasn't Malisane's problem. He had other concerns.
He had suspected something like this would happen ever since the two Elders had returned from Antei. He had never trusted them. His suspicions had been proved right. Like Agrist he had no idea what Lehon was. Severak would probably know, his father's decades of research had been thorough, but this wasn't a time to contact him with the palace on alert.

Or was it? He hadn't made any definate promises to the his Sith Lord father, but maybe this was the push he needed to cut his losses. When the Clan pursued maybe it was time to head off to K240, to prepare for the glorious future?
He dismissed this idea. Whatever the two errant Elders planned could have far reaching consequences. He could not hide out waiting to see what happened, it wasn't in his nature.
He would play the loyal soldier one more time, and when this was over consider his options once and for all.

He had one thing to do though. He found an empty office and a terminal. "Record message." He waited then, "High Chief Urtarg. Proceed with plan Alpha One. You will not fail." He paused again. "I am proud of my part in the creation and development of your race, and you have served me with honour and unfailing diligence. You are alone now, and an independant people in your own right. Message ends." He nodded in satisfaction. "Protect this with my clearance code. If I do not delete this message within thirty days encrypt and transmit it to Arboria village on Kangaras." He nodded in satisfaction, then poured himself a drink. The next few days would be critical for all their futures.

War Room, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow


“Well. To begin with, tell us what you know of the traitor’s plans,” demanded the Overlord. His rage swirled about him as a dark cloud in the Force, although he had it largely under control. All the Force sensitives in the room could feel it clearly.

“My lord. Very little, in fact. As you know both Vexatus and Caerick are master manipulators. My own… idiom makes me somewhat more susceptible than most to their manipulations,” replied the alchemist with a frown and furrowed brow.

“Are you saying they told you nothing?” said Astronicus as he raised his voice.

“Indeed. After we crushed, er, I mean liberated Estle city, heh heh they told me almost nothing. That was unfortunate. I had hoped to begin some deeper research after I mastered Trakata with Vexatus. In any case, they only mentioned something about an immense shatter point. I don’t think I was supposed to perceive that, but Caerick did give me the Mark. That was probably a mistake on his part, heh,” cackled the madman.

“I see,” muttered Astronicus. The madman was obviously not lying. Although he was Sith to the core, the deceit aspect was not one of his fortes. Macron tended to be much more straightforward about his own trickery.

“I’ll need your services then as you know them both well. I’m also sure that you know Lord Vexatus’ saber styles the best of anyone, as you are one of the few he actually trained personally. You’ll accompany me on the Final Way. I expect you to assist with the tactical and strategic aspects of any capital ship combat we may face as well. Join me on the bridge of the RSD as soon as you get your kit together,” ordered the Overlord.

“Do I bring my other toys?” asked the Warlord with a twinkle in his yellow eyes.

“As much as I hate to do it, yes. We’ll need any edge we can against those two,” came the reply.

“As you wish my liege,” giggled the Sith happily as he bowed with a flourish of red cape. Macron left the war room immediately, boot heels clicking on the stones as he wrung his fingers in gleeful anticipation. “Scores to be settled soon,” he hissed as the door closed behind him.

“I hope that was wise,” said Astronicus under his breath. “He’s a bit of a loose cannon.”

“Well, true. However, he’d be more likely to stab you openly in the face instead of the back,” remarked Tsainetomo coolly. “Besides, I know him better than most and between you and I he’s pretty irritated with the Selen Incident. He was a good lapdog, and they completely screwed him.”

War Room, Sadow Palace
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

“Screwed him, eh? Well, now that seems the order of the day,” remarked the Overlord, still seething over the two Sons betrayal. These were named heirs to his legacy, and Trevarus and Vexatus had both spit on his boon and thrown it in his face as if he were a commoner. No, worse: a mundane. Snapping out of his angry reverie, he continued. “Hopefully, he’s learned his lesson.”

“Aye, m’lord,” Tsainetomo agreed, in spite of the shadow of doubt clouding his own tripartite eye. He knew his cousin better than most, as he advised Astronicus, but with that knowledge came a begrudging admittance that Macron, like most Sith who’d ascended as high as he had possessed a nigh-insatiable lust for power.

Even more disturbing to the Keibatsu was even at its surface, this transparency had to be evident to the Overlord, who was no doubt scheming on some small level to use Mononoke as the point of his own spear of righteous retribution. And as the Alchemist had displayed before, he was subject to the whims of manipulation in his quest for power.

If he weren’t careful, Mononoke could find himself back in exploitation’s cruel grip. Tsainetomo decided then and there that it wouldn’t happen, not on his watch. Whatever the rest of his family decided, Macron would have one man in his corner, if only to be the sane voice of reason that he seemed to be lacking as of late.

“Overlord, if I may take your leave, sire, I’d like to personally debrief my Adjutant, Captain Orenth on the remainder of the preparations. As you can see by my report,” here Tsainetomo paused to switch the readout of his console’s display to the main viewscreen. “D-SOG agents and the Black Guard have rounded up the traitors’ confederates and have them in varying states of...arrest. They await your orders.”

Picking up on the Rollmaster’s pause, Astronicus repeated, “'varying' states of arrest?”

“Aye, sire. Some of them went...less than cooperatively towards their detainment.”

Confident that Tsainetomo was handling the preparation of his War Machine smoothly, Astronicus ignored the implied charge of brutality on his agents’ part. “Very well, but I mean to be in hyperspace within the hour. With, or without you.”

“It will be done, my Lord.” Tsainetomo left the War Room and started down the passageway. Instead of veering right at the hall’s terminus, to Oren and matters, logistical, he veered left.

'Oren has this well in hand. He knows his business, and I’ve taught him myself,' Tsainetomo mused as he activated his personal transponder and set it to Macron’s frequency, but not before he commed his Adjutant. "Oren, continue preparations. The Overlord has given us an hour, so you have roughly half of that."

'Now, where have you gone to, cousin?'

The Wreck of the Miner’s Brother
Amphor Orbit
Orian Space

The trip here had been relatively quick aboard the Nachzerer. Macron still had roughly 30 minutes to rendezvous with the RSD Final Way. He peered into the micro-enhancer, casting his eye over his precious charges as the flickering blue light washed over his face from the eyepiece. “Straight from the ruins of House Sizrahn,” he muttered. “Perfect.” Minute bacterium swirled in an aqueous solution, happily growing and multiplying under the effects of the previous treatments.

His own history with the Falleen included watching Xora die at the hands of Vader himself when an adolescent Macron had stowed away on board Jib Kopatha's ship. He knew very well what had happened on Falleen. And he knew more about them than anyone suspected.

The bacterium sample from Falleen had been hard to get. Supposedly Vader had sterilized the entire compromised area, but Macron had personally located a dormant spore form of the weapon. And, now it had been enhanced to the maximum over the past 2 years using Sith methods and his previous research on the Violator gas.

“You sonofabitch,” he chuckled. “Of course I kept insurance, even from you Vexatus. Any good Sith would,” he hissed to himself. Macron laughed out loud, deep and long. The dirty trick was perfect. Just then, his comlink buzzed.

“Now, where have you gone to, cousin?”, came Tsainetomo’s’s voice over the secure link.

“I’m in the shop, Sai. Just taking care of a few last minute details. What’s up?” replied the Sith.

“I’m on my way to meet you in a shuttle. From there, we can take the Nachzerer to the RSD. We need to talk,” replied the Krath.

“What’s this?” snorted Macron. “You dumping me already?”

“Funny, Mac. Actually, I’m concerned about some developments. More later in person, as the bulkhead walls have ears,” whispered Sai. “Tsainetomo out.”

“Copy. See you in 5,” responded Macron as he shut the comswitch off. He grabbed the small canister from the examination platform and loaded into his gear. Several Sith droids carried and pushed various boxes toward the landing bay as the alchemist walked along. “Just hope the Taozin-Silooth mutant doesn’t go berserk before we get there,” he mumbled as he talked to himself. “He’s pretty doped up in the hold.”

Gamuslag Prefect's Shuttle
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow

The shuttle powered down from hyperspace without a hitch. Joseem and Tsingtao had spent little time gearing up for the coming hunt. Joseem had replaced the broken parts of his armor as well as his shattered saber. Tsingtao had left the running of the planet to his droid, AK-47, and both he and Joseem had made haste for Sepros.

The shuttle was intercepted by Sadow Fighters until they were given the clearance code. Joseem piloted the shuttle along the correct approach vector until the RSD Final Way caught them with their tractor beam. All that was left now was to get their orders from Astronicus.

CR 90 Corvette Sanguinus
Flagship of Trevarus Caerick
Orbiting Telos, Telos System



His green eyes glittered through the viewport. The wreckage of the worldship still orbited the emerald that was Telos. He considered why he had come. An oath he had sworn, bound in his blood. The price of his life had been the price of his blood. His regnants well knew this. The subterfuge made him uneasy. Krath that he was, he preferred the open ways of the Obelisk. Lightsabers first, written accounts later. A hand lazily drifted down, touching each of his twin lightsabers in turn, almost to reassure himself that each hung in place on his belt.

"When did Trev say they would arrive, Christine?"

"Hard to say. I received word from Eosara an hour ago, they were enroute. Orian isn't that far from here, maybe a four, five hour jump."

"And what is Trev up to, rumor is he hijacked an ImpStar duece from Clan Naga Sadow"

"I wouldn't know, Kem. I'm just following the boss' orders."

"Alright. This whole affair makes me nervous."

"So why did you want to tag along?" The Captain asked, her eyes peering through him. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"At the end of the day, we're all just following orders."

Christine took it at face value that Maeda was Trevarus' willing Apprentice in their shared religion. Its true that Trevarus was his nominal Master, but a man may have more than one Master.

Sword, indeed.

He hadn't been given the details, but his presence aboard the Harbinger was of vital importance. His Masters had insisted he go, under his guise as Trev's willing dupe. He suspected he was being led into a trap.


ISD-II Harbinger
Enroute to Telos


Two men with equally penetrating gazes stared into the blue-white swirld of Hyperspace. Both had foresaken everything, both had nothing to lose. Yet one was a bit more desperate than the other.

When does my scion resign
United the orders two
Know then at end is my line

It was an old tradition of the Caerick Family to tell stories by the fire, deep into the Corellian nights. How often had his mother read from him of the Tales of Tinto the Tonka? His father of the glory days of his ascestors in the Great Wars of the Jedi. Cautionary tales of the battles of the Jedi and Sith, stories of hope, betrayal, and the lust for power. Most often, he would read from the Alain Caer, a placeholder in an ancient Corellian dialect, meaning First of the Caer, his sons being named Caer'aka, which as language evolved, became the Caerick.

He was the Scion of an acient and proud lineage of the Jedi Order, and as far as he knew... he was the first to delve into the Dark Side. Late at night, his father Alaerus and young Trevarus would discuss the ancient ways of their father's fathers. Of those three lines, there was the most haunting discussion of all.

"My son, Trev. As far as we know, no member of our family has ever strayed from the Jedi Code. For, our father Alain Caer once said that the first to fall would signal the end of our bloodline."

"Father, what of the "United the Orders two?" Does that mean that there will be a unification of the Sith and Jedi Orders?"

"It is hard to say, son. There are other orders and cults within the varying annals of each order. Much possibility exists for a unification of conflicting ideals."

"Is prophecy always so maddeningly vague?" Young Trev asked.

His father laughed. "I'm afraid it is, Trev. Learn to laugh at it, or you'll end up going insane. You carry the sight of your Fathers, it is both a blessing and a curse. In time, you will know the questions to the answers you already have."

Reflecting on memories from so many lifetimes ago, almost pained him. If he had a soul left to feel remorse, perhaps he would have. However, staring into the Abyss, he reflected that beside him stood the unification of two Orders. Krath, Sith. That he took united another outlook was not beyond him. His Mark fluttered open for a moment. A portentous possibility was open to him, and try as he might, he could not decipher every possibility. As if the Force was intentionally hiding something from him.

Or he from himself. Oft had he lectured that none would know the question until they already had the answer. Choice was an immutable parodox.

One cannot see beyond a choice not yet made.

Yet, he had made a choice, and there was no turning back. And in his mind's eye, the Dragon growled.

"Reversion in five, four, three...." the voice ended the countdown with a starlight streak back to realspace.

"Hail from IFF Transponder marked Sanguinus, Christine Zara, Captain hailing." A robotic voice said from a communications console.

"Engage tractor beams, and bring the Sanguinus into our ventral dock."

"Yes Governor."


Sanguinus

So it begins, Maeda thought, once again feeling for his lightsabers as the Corvette was pulled into the gaping maw of the dagger-like Star Destroyer.

Command Bridge
RSD Final Way
In orbit above Sepros

"Admiral, the Viceroy's shuttle has docked and he has given us orders to get under way." Informed a young Lieutenant from the communications station.

"Very well." Acknowledged the veteran officer. Araic Simonetti had served the secret members of the Dlarit Corporation known as Clan Naga Sadow for only a short time in relative terms, a few years at best. But he was a loyal and competent officer who knew his way about the ship and how to keep it orderly and efficient. "Send a message to Sadow Palace that we will be leaving within fifteen minutes. That will give any stragglers the time they need to get aboard."

"Yes, sir." Responded the Lieutenant to the order. He held his hand to his ear as another incoming message was relayed to him, turning to face the Admiral yet again he informed him of more news. "Sir, the Viceroy also says he wants the entire D-SOG Division for this operation, he wants to leave nothing to chance. The Heretic Sun, the Turmoil and the Despot are to rendezvous with us within time for our departure. He has also ordered the Kangaras Division to join up with us as soon as possible, Commander Miros is readying her division and will intercept us as soon as possible."

"Interesting." Voiced Simonetti, obviously the Viceroy was not going to pull any punches and see if he could salvage the two traitors, he meant to bring them to their knees - if not destroy them. "There will be no escape from us, that is certain. A lone Imp Star Deuce may have firepower, but not enough to take on all we have combined. This will be a day long remembered."

----

Hangar Bay
RSD Final Way
In orbit above Sepros
15 minutes to launch

The Nachzerer eased down on the cold durasteel floor of the hangar, it's entry ramp lowering as it began to settle in. Macron and Tsainetomo departed it, to be met by a small welcoming committee - Astronicus, Ashia, Ashura, Faeril Munlear and Lord Paladin. The two approached the gathered leaders and acknowledged them with a slight bow.

"Gentlemen, I am glad you have made it." Said Astronicus. "In the absence and due to his betrayal, I am assuming the role of Proconsul until further notice, but will still be leading this expedition." None present argued the matter or even brought up objections to the Overlord assuming the role of Proconsul, so he continued with the speech he had planned. "Effective immediately Consul Ashia Keibatsu is given full authority as Governor-General, a role she should have had upon Caerick's stepping aside from the role of Consul. On that note, he is no longer a Governor and has no authority over the Clan or Corporation. See to it that you inform your people ASAP."

Again, they were taking this quite well, though Astronicus' consolidation of power did seem a bit overwhelming at first they were loyal to their Overlord and were taking it in steed. Without any further beating about the bush he decided to inform them of the final details of the upcoming operation. "I have contacted Lord Muz personally to inform him of the recent events. As a Son of Sadow he needed to know. He feels it necessary that we nip this in the bud as quickly, quietly and painlessly as possible. Therefore, he will be rendezvousing with us when we meet up with the Kangaras Division of D-SOG. Caerick and Vexatus are both equally powerful, therefore, we will take whatever assistance we are offered. No offense, Lord Paladin."

"None taken, Lord Sadow." Intoned the Grand Master. "I will be of assistance to you and the clan, and do not mind the assistance in this matter."

"Very well," stated the Overlord, "we will be launching in fifteen minutes. Make sure your forces are ready and in place."

The group dispersed, though Astronicus stayed where he was for a moment, his mind on other matters. His rage from the initial shock of the betrayal has subsided somewhat as he put his mind to work on how to deal with up coming events that would unfold. He played over in his head the varying outcomes of what might be, how the next few battles with his former Sons would be. There were too many, along with the upcoming unavoidable space battle between the Harbringer and his task force. If he could salvage it he would. But would it be possible to have the crew aboard her turn on Caerick and his goons, knowing that many of their lives would no doubt be forfeit? Ahsia's presence behind him brought his mind back to the here and now. He turned to face her.

"Is something wrong Consul?" He asked inquisitively. "We should be getting to the bridge to see to our departure."

"Simonetti can handle that." She replied, looking at him with a dead serious face. He knew he had chosen well when he allowed her appointment to the seat of Consul of Naga Sadow. "It's just this whole mess. How are we going to explain it to the Clan that two of our cherished elders, men who had been named Sons of Sadow, have forsaken their oath to the Clan and now seek it's destruction? All of those present at the banquet have been enraged and at the same time pierced to the heart by all of this. They have doubts now about whom they can trust. Despite your presence and the rest of the clan summit supporting the action against Vexatus and Trev, doubts are creeping in."

"The clan will survive." Those simple words, though powerful, were not meaningful at the moment. Of course the clan would survive, it had ever since Naga Sadow had been alive, though at times it had been dormant for centuries. Astronicus paused and thought about how it would feel to him if he were a young journeyman watching the events unfold and take place. "They are only but two of the Sons, we have a number of loyal ones here today supporting us. We also have a factor that they do not, a loyal group that supports the Clan in all matters, the Keibatsu family. I have always seen your family as a glue that binds our clan, they've been involved in so much of it's shaping and molding. Unity is a strong asset when used properly. At the moment, those two do not have that beyond themselves. Our clan will be victorious, not because of power, not because of strength in numbers, and not because of anything other than for that one fact: We stand united and we will be victorious, because we must. Otherwise we leave the galaxy in the hands of those two."

Ashia nodded. There was so much uncertainty alright, but the Overlord evoked hope where there was none. The clan would succeed, because they had to.

Captain's Quarters
Autoch DC009 Fallen Spear
Undisclosed location

Muz leaned back in his chair, the supple leather squeaking against his warcoat. The hologenerater cooled on his desk, the light blue long since fading from his sight. silent thought raced through his mind, glimpses of malice seething, then ebbing behind sable eyes. But yet, this was no surprise.

Trevarus thought he would play Astronicus against his own birthright, and found himself underestimating the Master. The ego of the Dragon would never let that go unanswered. And with so powerful of a pawn at the Sorcerer's disposal...

No. The heretic was what drove this all forward. His lies.

Muz stood up quickly, reaching for the ornate box obscured by crystals on his desk. Fast fingers slipped through the puzzle, unlocking the hidden compartment on the metal box. Trevarus was a lost soul, a mirror reflecting darkly upon his own tragedy...or he upon his, the Keibatsu never could tell. But the lack of control... Muz held the tarnished ring up to the light of a thousand dying stars, trying to ignore their screams as he felt the essence of the artifact that he had hidden since he returned with the Skin of Fire.

Yes, the Lack of Control, he could fix.


Bridge
Autoch DC009 Fallen Spear
Undisclosed Location

Blackwind snarled at the orders as soon as the comm went dead. Two hours of travel that had to happen in fifteen minutes, as usual. Darius pulled up the navcomp, and began to plot the four jumps that needed to happen to make the rendezvous. With the full compliment of Nihilgenia aboard, at least he'd not lack for help in engineering or on the Bridge, especially considering that the tone of the Dark Lord was dour enough that he knew he'd spend the rest of the journey holed up in his quarters.

Darius paused a second, spotting a potential shortcut along the Daragon trail, laughing to himself as the irony of the situation snuck in on him. A smile marched up from the corners of his mouth. Something strange tainted his senses about this mission... and while it wasn't the familiar odor of certain death, it did not seem like the standard mundane political garbage as of late.

Blackwind punched in the final order as the ship shifted direction, vector engines tilting her toward her prey.

"Let's see what hells we'll walk through today, shall we?"

ISD-II Harbinger
Enroute to Telos

This wasn’t good, the young woman thought to herself as she tapped on the console. Trust her Master to get her into this; her loyalty to him would probably be the death of her, but she didn’t want that to be now especially with two powerful Elders onboard.

The trusted disciple decided the best course of action was to just wait and stay undercover. The woman had been put here to keep an eye on the crew whilst her Master was away doing more important duties. The best thing for her to do was to just watch and find out all she could without getting herself killed.

The strikingly beautiful red haired Sub-Lieutenant, which was really just her cover, went about her business as she handed a Hyperdrive status report to the Lieutenant standing next to her. Her position was designed for her to blend into the background and stay unnoticed; the Equite level Dark Jedi was doing everything she could to minimize her presence. The best way to describe it was “stealth mode” although she didn’t know how long it would against these two.

Her Master had been right to not have her join this Brotherhood and become Disciple of Sadow; it was the only advantage she had if discovered. She quickly thought back to how he had freed her from that bastard Brotherhood ruled by upstart Imperials. He had trained her to be his “eyes” and “ears”, his first apprentice. He had taken her hatred towards the man who abused and “trained” her, her former Master he slew, and channeled it towards a deep hatred to all men; except for one. It disgusted her to be standing her with so many of them around; pigs, brutes, fascists… kreff the whole lot of them to Hell.

Now wasn’t the time to let her emotions get the better of her, she needed to stay alive. She wasn’t going to risk contacting her Master. She would remain what he made her to be; his “eyes” and “ears”.

Command Bridge
In orbit above Sepros
RSD Final Way

Ashura Isradia was the first one of the Clan’s leaders to walk onto the bridge and his eyes instantly settled on Simonetti.

“Governor,” said Araic.

“Admiral, replied Ashura.

A simple acknowledgement between the two; it wasn’t that they disliked each other. Simonetti still had a buried resentment to all the lives Isradia scarified onboard the Wandering Soul at the Fall of Antei.

“I heard you were leaving?” The Rear Admiral said as a junior officer handed him a status report on the Hyperdrive engines.

“Yes, although I’ve put it on hold for the time being. With recent events the last thing we need is lack of strong leaders to pull us through this dark hour.” There was a tone of sarcasm in the Governor’s voice but the Admiral overlooked it. “You’ll still have my son running about the place long after I’m gone.”

“The boy is onboard then?” Araic asked as his lips twisted into a slight smirk.

The Sith Battlemaster closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them. “Oh yes, the boy is onboard? Why? You need an extra pair of hands to help run this ship.” Isradia was now smirking slightly too.

Hangar Bay
RSD Final Way
In orbit above Sepros
10 minutes to launch

The DSOG Lieutenant Commander walked out of the shuttle and looked around the hanger bay and shuddered; he remembered those early morning laps around the hanger with all the Midshipmen some months back. “Brilliant, it’s the three months of Hell all over again.”

He knew the drill, even if he was a Disciple of Sadow he still had a cover to maintain. He had packed his lightsaber with his gear as it wouldn’t be good to be found with it; what’s the point of having a secret identity if you blew it.

He then saw the man standing there waiting and another shudder shot up his spine; it was Agrist, Senior Commander, Commissar of the Final Way and Alector’s mentor in everything DSOG. “What did you do this time boy? It’s only been a month and your back already?” Agrist was teasing him.

Although Alector was an Equite his rank within the Dlarit Special Operations Group reflected how long he’d been in the Clan for. He started as a Subcommander and after his three months of probation he was promoted a rank up.

“Lieutenant Commander Alector Isradia reporting for duty, sir,” the young man said as he saluted, this was going to be fun… ok, it wasn’t going to be fun but he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

The former member of the True Brotherhood smiled. He had taught this boy everything he thought Alector would need to know; especially on his commissar duties and how to use the Force in ways people simply want to do as they are told out of sheer terror alone.

“I haven’t got all day, Lieutenant. Grab your gear and follow me.”

OOC: Yes, I have an NPC aboard the Harbinger; please don’t kill her. You never know how when she may come in useful for something. Also check out “Trials on the Final Way” in Alector’s Wiki to learn more about the three months he spent onboard the Final Way as punishment.

RSD Final Way
Orian System

Malisane pushed his way past those in front of him and into the shuttle bay. He looked around then casually threw his bag at a crewman, pitching the suprised man back against the bulkhead. "Take that to cabin 308," the Battlelord ordered casually.
"Yes Sir," the crewman responded nervously.
Malisane strode across the bay, past where two marines were checking people onboard without a glance, and out into the main corridor, nearly bumping into the Commisaar.
"De Ath," Agrist said curiously, "one again you grace us with your presence."
Malisane regarded him, noting the sarcasm, then his gaze passed to Agrist's companion, and his face darkened. "Our drunken reveller. If I see you within a hundred metres of my club again I'll give Talorthane a new neighbour, I'm sure I can find another jar."
Alector half laughed then noted Malisane's face hadn't changed. He glanced at Agrist who shrugged then said. "Hardly your club anymore," the mercenary responded curiously, "I understand you resigned from the board."
"And where did you hear that?" Malisane responded.
"I hear all sorts of things, Ilike that you resigned as Prefect as well?"
"So?" Malisane asked. "Imgormiel can handle things well enough, and Commander Miros."
"Odd sort of co-incidence though," Agrist continued, "almost as if you were planning to go somewhere?"

Malisane studied the other Battlelord for a few seconds. "Nothing of the sort," he replied, though both Agrist and Alector sensed a trace of brief emotion. "I'm suprised to see you wandering around Agrist."
"Why?" the Commisaar demanded suspiciously.
"I thought they were rounding up those with a close connection to Vexatus and Trevarus. Didn't Vexatus spare your life and bring you into the clan? Have you had your turn with the thumb screws yet?"
Agrist's one good eye bore into Malisane's face. "I am loyal to Clan Naga Sadow," he replied coldly, "I have demonstrated that by my service on this ship."
"Like you were loyal to Anaxela and Severina? I spent six months reconstructing the damage of your last demonstration of loyalty to them on Tarthos."
Alector was suprised, this was hardly common knowledge in the Clan. The details of the Invasion of Orian were sketchy. He kept his face neutral.
Agrist's face was furious, then he calmed himself. "I serve the Overlord and the Clan Summit, if they have any doubt over my loyalties I will be happy to answer to them. It is no business of yours."
Malisane shrugged calmly. "I suppose not," he responded, "anyway I must be off, unpacking doesn't do itself. Later gentleman."
Agrist watched him go, then turned angrily in the other direction. "Come on Alector we will inspect the preparations to depart."

Hangar Bay
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System


Tsingtao stepped off the shuttle from Gamuslag followed by Joseem Maruuch and four DAC troopers. There were quite a few activities going on in the hanger bay to his surprise. Men were running from shuttle to shuttle, unloading cargo, and prepping starfighters. “Are we going to war again?” Tsingtao thought to himself.

He turned towards one of the DAC Troopers from Gamuslag. “Zerek, take your squad to the barracks. We’ll reassemble after we are on our way.” Zerek saluted, “Yes, Sir, Commander.” He then motioned for the rest of the squad to follow, and they left the Hanger Bay.

Tsingtao turned to follow Joseem out of the Hanger Bay. “So are you going to fill me in on what is going on?”

“Master Shin’ichi will fill you in on the details. Much has transpired.” replied Joseem.

They both finally reached the War Room and approached their Master. They both kneeled before Shin’ichi and in unison, “What is thy bidding, my Master?”

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Telos System

Kem-Shu Maeda had sensed something wrong when he had approached the Harbinger in the Sanguinus. It had been as if the ship did not exist. It hung there. Lifeless. The Krath had reached out with his Force senses but there had been nothing. Not a whisper of life inside its walls... but for two.

They burned with an intensity the Dark Jedi Master had never experienced before in his life. Never before had he sensed anything shining so bright within the Force. It was like an inferno, blinding, literally eclipsing all lesser life. As the tractor beam had drawn the Sanguinus into the ship’s hangar he had felt something tugging at his own lifeline, seeking to bend him too to its will.

Kem-Shu Maeda was afraid.

The Krath had entered the hangar in total silence. The hundreds of members of the Obsidian Cohort he had brought with him from their base in the Transitory Mists disembarked without needing to be told, communicating in total silence within their sealed black helmets. As Kem-Shu had made his way through the ship he had looked on as the ordinary crewmen carried out their duties without so much as glancing in his direction.

It was as if they didn’t realise he was even there. On one occasion, the Krath had deliberately called out, trying to get the attention of one of the flight technicians, but nothing. Not even a nod of acknowledgement. They didn’t exist. Their minds obliterated. Utterly bound to his will.

Trevarus Caerick's.

Maeda began to wonder whether he had made a mistake all those years ago. Should he ever have broken the covenant and bestowed Caerick with the Mark? There had been reasons those rules existed. Was this why? Was this what Kem-Shu Maeda had wrought upon the galaxy?

It was not that he cared. No. Kem-Shu Maeda did not worry what Caerick did to everyone else. He worried for himself. If the sorcerer was finally playing his hand what place would he have in Caerick’s new empire? Caerick had Vexatus. Where did that leave Kem-Shu? The sorcerer would cast him aside as easily as all the rest.

As easily as he had Kiln Tobasa. Maeda knew this all to well.

The turbolift doors slid open as the Dark Jedi Master struggled with his thoughts. The bridge looked empty. It was not. There were several dozen men and women seated behind their consoles. But their movements were so mechanical, so lifeless that they may as well have been droids.

Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus stood at the far end of the bridge, side by side, hands clasped behind their backs, staring out into the darkness of space. They made no motion to acknowledge his presence.

Kem-Shu Maeda approached. Only Eosara Goratis moved. “Kem-Shu, good for you to make it,” the man said in his typically gruff tone. “I see you still have possession of all your faculties, lucky you,” he joked.

The Krath didn’t laugh. He was still trying to digest the inhumanity of what was going on. Kem-Shu reminded himself his lightsabers were still there, the immense majordomo eying him closely. “Not exactly how I would have chosen to redecorate but I guess if it does the job.”

Eosara grinned mischievously. “Lord Caerick is making an example.” The man gestured around him, as if meaning to take in the whole ship. “Behold the truth of his vision. A galaxy where this is no war, no fear, no pain, no loss, only his will. Is it not perfect?”

Maeda narrowed his eyes. What was going on? Usually Eosara was so fierce, so... rebellious. What was Trev doing here? He decided the quickest way to find out was just to cut to the chase. “So, Trev, where we going?”

Bad mistake.

The Falleen whirled around, his black cloak swirling around him as he raised an arm and forks of lightning shot forth, sending the Krath to his knees. “You will address my Master as Lord Caerick if you wish to live you worthless fool.”

Kem-Shu Maeda reeled. His face creased, nobody treated him like that, nobody. Least of all lizard boy. “Lord Caerick?" the Krath spat. "Since when did you become a lord, Trev?”

Maeda knew what was coming even before he heaped over on the floor in pain, more forks of lightning flying from the Falleen’s fingertips.

“Enough!” The voice was Trev’s. “Kem-Shu, how good of you to join us.”

War Room
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

The hologram of Shin’ichi shimmered in the darkened room as his apprentices Joseem and Tsingtao knelt in supplication before his image.

What is thy bidding my master? The spoke in chorus.

The face of the Keibatsu was strained as though he was undergoing some task at great difficulty, yet his metallic voice answered in an eerie and calm manner.

Gather the DACs and assemble Fenris, Devani, Nassin, and Zillah.

Joseem’s head came up and he dared to look his master in the face, but it was Tsingtao who spoke with the confidence of leadership under his belt.

Why?

One simple word that spoke volumes to the Pontifex and for a moment the strain left his face and was replaced with sadness as he answered.

Because I’m going to hunt down two old friends and I can’t do it alone.

Was it weakness to reveal this to his apprentices? The whole brotherhood was a violation of that most ancient rule of two established by Darth Bane millennia ago. Two shall there be, no more, one to embody the power the other to crave it. Yet here he was with no less than ten apprentices trained under his watchful eye and iron fist a living denunciate of the laws of the Sith. The logic of the rule was sound, should a master have more than one apprentice then eventually they would unite and destroy the master, but in the Dark Jedi Brotherhood it seemed that logic no longer applied.

Sai will come to see you soon Tsingtao, make certain we have available the items on this list that I’m transmitting.

With that Shin’ichi cut off the transmission to his apprentices and concentrated on keeping the Kiba together as it sped at rates far beyond its own impressive specifications.

Opening another secure channel he hailed Tsainetomo, his prime apprentice.

Coming in hot…clear out the port bay…get Vorion and meet me on deck.

Switching off the channel he brought the Kiba in line with the Republic Class Star Destroyer Final Way. The pride of the Sadowite fleet stood before him, a silent sentinel of doom. It was fitting that this vessel was sent to hunt down the diluted and vain traitors who in their hubris believed themselves to be the harbingers of the end of days.

Combat Information Center
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

The Wireless transceiver came to life with a priority override clearance and a familiar metallic voice.

Kilo Zero One to Charlie Nebula Sierra Actual

Charlie Nebula Sierra Actual, the combat designation for the Consul of Clan Naga Sadow, grabbed the mic before Shin’ichi could finish initiating contact.

Where the hell have you been general? She tried to sound angry, even infuriated, but Ashia could no more rage at her brother than she could cut off her own right arm. Astronicus knew this and smiled to himself in spite of the rage that burned at his core.

Sorry I’m late for the party, but I had a few…matters to tie up.

Ashia stifled a laugh knowing that her brother’s words were most likely more literal than figurative.

Where are you now Kilo Zero One?

Flying into the port hanger deck at speeds far exceeding recommended safety protocols.

Ashia nodded to herself.

As soon as you’ve cleaned up whatever mess you create down there, come to the Bridge…I have a special task for you.

Port Hanger Deck
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

If Shin’ichi could smile he would have, instead he cut off the transmission and came skidding to a halt over halfway down the length of the docking bay.

The Kiba stopped moving a few meters before colliding with the aft section of the bay and mere centimeters from striking Sai and Vorion. He opened the hatch and leapt out of the cockpit landing before the two ebon skinned men.

Tsainetmo, I am pleased to see you well and your apprentice young Vorion.

Both men bowed slightly in deference to the Pontifex as he continued.

Speak plainly to me Sai, what’s going on with Macron? As I approached
I touched his mind and it seemed even more erratic than usual.

The Priest sighed.

He was betrayed by Trevarus and Darth Vexatus…

Do not call him that, he is simply Xanos now. The betrayer is not worthy of the title no matter his past accomplishments. Shin’ichi interrupted.

As you will my master. The Korun-Keibatsu again deferred to his master.

At any rate we were all betrayed my favored apprentice, but the time for settling accounts is at hand. I understand you’ve handled the logistics of this campaign?

I have master

Excellent, hopefully your eyesight isn’t too sharp or your calculations to exacting.

Tsainetomo took the hint in stride and made his leave.

It is a difficult thing plotting an operation of this magnitude, I must indeed check my figures again.

Shin’ichi inclined his head towards his prodigy.

Take Tsingtao with you, his skills will be most useful in maximizing efficiency.

With that Tsainetomo took his leave and Shin’ichi directed his attention to Vorion.

Now young Vorion, I have a very…special task for you.

The two Dark Jedi walked in conference as Shin’ichi made his way to the bridge. Stopping before the turbolift he dismissed the apprentice of his number one and steeled himself for his meeting with the Consul and Overlord.

He would hunt down and kill his friends even if it meant sacrificing his family and every apprentice that he had ever trained.

Bridge
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

Macron settled into the weapons command chair of the RSD Final Way comfortably. The command chair that Astronicus normally occupied was empty, as he was still below with the others discussing events. Macron nodded to Ashura and Admiral Simonetti as he settled in. The madman fingered the smooth leather as Simonetti spoke.

“Marshal Commander Macron,” he said with a calm look. “I have been briefed by the Overlord. I understand you are fully trained in capital ship operations and will be handling the coordination of the weapons systems, and Tsainetomo the sensors and communications arrays, at least until we finish our impending combat. Of course, then you may proceed with your normal operations.”

“That is correct, Admiral. My skills may be useful in this regard. I am here to serve my Clan in all ways. I understand the Heretic Sun, Turmoil, and Despot will be joining us along with the Kangaras Division,” queried the Warlord. “Is that verified?”

“Yes. They are enroute at this time,” replied Simonetti as he gestured to a holoscreen. “I understand the Viceroy wants all of DSOG in on this little party.”

“Interesting,” snickered Macron. “Although an Impstar Deuce is quite formidable, they cannot long hold against this mass. As well, we have the better fighter craft and pilots in DSOG. And the Interdictor will hold them in place like flypaper. I begin to see the Viceroy’s plan now. I am at your command Admiral.”

Araic Simonetti looked surprised, but only for an instant. His sublime training quickly took over. “Ah, yes Warlord. Please have a review of the systems, and give me your status report before we debark in 7 minutes. That is all.”

“Indeed,” replied Mononoke as he began to scroll through the screens and data. The bridge door hissed open, and Tsainetomo entered. Macron smiled and waved as the Krath cracked a grin and stepped toward the communications arrays. It was like old times, but on a bigger ship.

“Now hear this. Six minutes to debarkation,” spoke the Priest through the main announcement channel as the Overlord and Consul entered the bridge.

"Officers on deck," remarked Simonetti as the Naval officers saluted.

"Kick the tires and light the fires," giggled Macron as he flipped switches. "Weapons status, at normal parameters. All deflector shields fully operational. We are full-on ready to hurt somebody."

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

"Get us under way Admiral." Ordered the Viceroy. "I do not wish to waste any more time, nor allow a larger window of opportunity to open between us and our prey."

"Yes, my lord." Acknowledged Simonetti, then turning toward the crew pit where the helm station was located he began barking orders. "Helm lay in a course parallel to the exit vector of the Harbringer. Where does that plot lead us?"

"It sets a course along the route to the Telos system, sir." Replied the veteran officer of the crew pit.

Simonetti turned to the station at his right and addressed the sensors officer next. "Link with the surveillance units we left behind in the Telos system to confirm the Harbringer is or at the very least was there. We need a definite course."

The senors officer did as ordered, a few moments later he looked up from his console and turned to report to the Admiral. "Confirmed, sir, it is still in the Telos system."

"Helm, lay in a course for the Telos system. Give me an estimated time of arrival in system as well." Turning yet again, the Admiral now facing another grouping of crewmen and officers to his right, he addressed the communications officer and Priest Tsainetomo. "Inform Commander Miros to meet us there."

Tsainetomo nodded his head in acknowledgment and passed on the orders to his underlings. The Helm officer in the crew pit had his men likewise calculatedthe distance and time, then reported to the Admiral. "Sir, it will take us roughly three hours to arrive in the Telos system."

"Very well, let's get under way and quit wasting precious time." Ordered Simonetti, "Engage hyperdrive engines."

"Hyperdrive engines at standby, engaging." Reported an officer from the engineering station. With that the Final Way and her escorts made the jump to lightspeed and vanished from the Orian system. The Republic-class Star Destroyer and her motley group consisting of the the two Vibre-class corvettes and the Immobilizer 418 cruiser were now en route for a battle that would change everything.

"It must be hard for you having to go up against two of the Sons like this." Said Ashura from behind the Overlord. "After what we've all been through in the past few years, to have two of the most trusted turn on us, on you especially, I can't even imagine. I guess it would be like Alector turning on me."

"You would think." Replied Astronicus. "But it is not. Vexatus died during the Vong War, what came out of that was not him nor a Son of Sadow. As for Caerick, that one too died some time ago. No, Ashura, we have not had two Sons of Sadow turn on us, we lost them both a long time ago. We merely have two destructive Dark Jedi on the loose who are a threat to all, especially Clan Naga Sadow and we must deal with them. For all our sakes."

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Telos System

Kem-Shu spat in Trev’s direction. “To hell with you, Trev,” the man muttered, even as the pain was still fresh. “I'd sooner die before becoming another of your slaves.” He gestured to the bridge crew, now nothing more than mindless automatons.

The sorcerer smiled. It was the smile of someone utterly insane. “Whatever makes you say that?” said Trev sweetly, genuinely meaning every word. “I have given them peace.”

Maeda stared up in disbelief. “Peace? You call this peace?” he cried in astonishment. “How the hell is that peace, Trev? They’re dead! I can’t even sense them anymore... only you.”

Trev’s lips curled into the kind of grin one gave a child who could never hope to understand the complexity of more mature concerns. “But of course. There is nothing... only me.”

The kneeling Krath pulled himself to his feet now that Caerick’s apprentice seemed content to idly watch the pair exchange words. Maeda had always hated the way the Falleen never gave anything away. His face was as devoid of emotion and empty as ever.

Kem-Shu decided to risk a sneer in his direction, “What about him?" he spat, thrusting a finger toward Vexatus. "Where does this leave your beloved apprentice in your new world?”

To Maeda’s disappointment the sorcerer was not phased even for a moment. “My apprentice and I are one... after all, there is only me."

Despite the strength of Trev's words, there was a hint of something else, something Maeda could not quite put his finger on... uncertainty? Regardless, Kem-Shu realised talking was going to do him no good. They were both crazy. Completely and totally crazy. His life was forfeit anyway. He may as well decide to make use of it. Maybe he could take one of them down before he died.

There are worse things than death, Maeda reminded himself, thinking back to when he had first broken the covenant and bestowed Caerick with the Mark in the first place. Becoming one of his... zombies for all eternity is one of them. Kem-Shu finally realised he should have taken his chances with death long ago. The last twelve years... all of it... come down to this. To fight Trev. Again. It had all been for nothing.

A pair of snap-hisses signalled Maeda’s lightsabers coming to life. Eosara stepped back, not out of fear but clearly just to give the assembled darksiders room. A tight smile had formed across the Falleen’s face, enough for Kem-Shu to notice. “Got something to say, lizard boy?”

Darth Vexatus’s eyes burned like two suns. It was a stark contrast to the ice blue of Caerick’s. “Amusing,” the Falleen said sarcastically. He nodded toward Maeda’s lightsabers. “Turn those off before you poke someone’s eye out.” He winked.

Maeda sneered. He knew well enough Vexatus had lost an eye once. Not that he lacked one anymore, the Vong had seen to that by replacing it with that... thing. When Kem-Shu did not do anything Vexatus flicked a finger in his direction and he was sent flying across the bridge back into the turbolift doors.

Trev glanced sideways at Vexatus in mock admonishment. “Careful, my apprentice! We would not wish to injure our guest.”

Maeda had had enough. There was only so much insult he could take. “Just shut up,” he roared. “Tobasa was right about one thing. I should never have given you the Mark. You’re a disgrace.”

That finally did it.

Maeda dropped to the floor, daggers of pain ripping through his entire body. All Trev had done was raise his hand. It was all the Dark Jedi Master could do to keep hold of his lightsabers. The pain was not of this world. Kem-Shu thought as if his eyes were going to bulge out of their sockets. By the time the sorcerer stopped his body was covered in sweat and the veins across Maeda’s face were visible. It took all his strength to fight the pain and drag himself back onto his feet.

“Let’s do this,” spat Maeda before charging.

Crew Quarters
RSD Final Way
Orian System

Tsingtao made his way to the Crew Quarters. He needed to find Tsainetomo as instructed, but went to find the Zerek and the rest of the Commandos instead. There were other Delta-class Advanced Commandos aboard the Final Way, but he went to the one he trusted most. He entered the barrack and all the Commandos quickly jumped from their bunks and lined up in straight lines.

“Captain Zerek, notify all the DAC troops to prepare for battle. It seems we are on a hunt. Assemble in the Hanger Bay and await Master Shin’ichi instructions. Then I want you to ready the troops for action.”

Zerek replied with a strong “Yes, Sir!” as he went to the barrack’s console to muster the rest of the DAC. Tsingtao then turned his attention to find Tsainetomo.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Telos System

There was a battle going on; it wasnt the one between the Elders but a mental battle within the mind of the young woman. Sakura was fighting for control of her own mind from the man calling himself "Lord Caerick". She could see the mute expressionless faces of the crew.

Her Public Mind (that is the part of her mind that open to surface thoughts and emotions) was in the Caerick's grip; this allowed her to go about her business doing her job like the rest of the hapless mundanes and blend in. It was her Private Mind (that is the part of her that held the woman’s true identity, persona and what nots) battling to keep the Dark Jedi Master from taking her over completely. She had been a pawn before a long time ago and was not going to become one again.

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way in Hyperspace

Ashura slowly nodded his head at Tron; Vexatus was a man he knew mostly by reputation. He had met him only a few times, mostly during his time in Ludo Kressh. Trev however was one of the few Elders that Ashura got to see the inside working of. The Krath was a mastermind genius; which meant this truly was Caerick's end game.

The Battlemaster once played a game of chess with the House Overlord some time ago. Trev was always five moves ahead...and this was no different. The Quaestor needed to be five moves ahead of the Krath Master. He knew what needed to be done.

"Pardon me, Lord Sadow. I need to contact House Marka Ragnos," Ashura said and then moved to one side. He opened his mind and reached out to all the members of his House and a few who weren’t. He then linked their minds with his.

Disciples of Ragnos. Ashura began. Today we have seen our Dark Primus turn his back on us and the dark doctrine of our Dark Lord Marka Ragnos. Dark Jedi Master Trevarus Caerick has betrayed us and in no better then those heretic Jedi; by power vested in me as Dark Patriarch of Onderon, I declare in the name of our Dark Lord a Holy Crusade to 'cull' our former Dark Primus from the galaxy! Do not show mercy or hesitation; heed the teachings of the Epistle. Glory to Ragnos and the End of Days!

He broke the connection and smiled. Ashura had laid it on a thicker than intended but for good reason. A Holy Crusade was something rare in the history of the Disciples of Ragnos and none would stop fighting until Caerick was dead or they died trying. Today was a historic day for the Disciples of Ragnos as they declared war on their (now former) Dark Primus.

The Sith knew how to manipulate people also; he had just done so with an entire cult of Dark Siders. "Check," he whispered, "your move, Trevarus."

OOC: End of Days = Final Way

Officer's Country
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace

Joseem walked to his stateroom, his "coop" as it was called by the enlisted. Contacting the other apprentices of Shin'ichi had been difficult at best during the shift to Hyperspace. He hoped that his message had been received. Too much had happened since his return to Sith space. His torture at the hands of the Peace Brigade had only solidified his hold on the Dark Side of the Force. He had honed and refined it on the moon of Gamuslag over the intervening months.

This chase of the so called "Sons of Sadow" will be a boon to my career, Joseem thought. As he entered his quarters, he looked around. Still the same as ever. Desk and holonet on the left, next to that, a small sink, and on the other side of the sink was a closet for clothes. On the right side of the room was the bed. Not big by any standard, but it would suffice. He didn't plan on sleeping all that much anyway.

Joseem removed his Black Guard armor and set it to the side. Once that was complete, he removed the underlying bodysuit and hung it outside of the room. One of the enlisted would be by to take care of it. He shut the door and sat, naked, in the middle of the stateroom, cross-legged. Reaching out to the Force, he floated his saber in front of him. He and his saber were one. He then concentrated on the moving stream that was the future. He would take the knowledge of what was to come for himself. He would share only if necessary, and then, only if it served his purpose....

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to Telos

Tsainetomo sat in silence at his terminal, vigilant for any telltale signs that the RSD’s sensor suite had picked up on the traitors’ presence. In a battle of attrition as the upcoming one promised to be, those that had made the first contact usually came out on top.

“Surely you realize that I’ll be able to sense those curs in the Force well before these machines will?”

The Rollmaster glanced up from his display to look into the face of the Overlord, who had strolled over to stand behind the Priest. He had placed a strong hand on Tsainetomo’s shoulder; his countenance glowed with a warmth that was almost paternal and belied the rage roiling beneath. The Overlord was sleepless in his mind and restless in his heart, but he felt no need to take out his frustrations on the loyal amongst the Clan. Not yet, anyway.

“Of course, sire; I meant no disrespect to your abilities. I’ve no doubt you can sense them, probably even now, but the fact remains that once the Final Way’s sensors pick them up, their position will still need to be relayed to Mononoke, to better train the guns and deploy the fighter wings. The sooner we can do that, the sooner this will end.” Tsainetomo finished with certainty.

“Ah, of course. ‘Tis far better to blow them out of the Ether fresh from our jump, rather than to waste time jockeying for position; well done, Priest.” Leaning in, Astronicus whispered conspiratorially to Tsainetomo. “You Keibatsu have proven your reliability and loyalty time and time again; I’ve no reason to doubt you’ll do the same in the coming hour of your Clan’s need.” With a final smile and squeeze of the Priest’s shoulder, the Overlord strolled off, looking to bend Mononoke’s ear.

‘And so, it begins.’ Tsainetomo had picked up on the subtle hint, intended or no, that Astronicus had dropped. His time in politics was serving him well, and the Priest often put more stock in what wasn’t said rather than what was. The Rollmaster’s mind began to race.

Ashura had put out the call to the Disciples of Ragnos, urging them to Holy War; as Dark Chronicler, he got the full bore of the urgency of the message. Now, with Astronicus dripping honey into his family’s ears, the maneuvering had begun in earnest. The affront the traitors’ actions had created had spurred the varied and sundry factions within the Clan to start solidifying their own positions, calling on favors and the like. Tsainetomo had the distinct feeling that even Trevarus’ and Vexatus’ deaths would not put an end to the turmoil, not by a long shot.

Still, the Priest had his duties. One of which was to his Master, Shin’ichi, who had his own agenda. Compounded on everything else, the current state of affairs within CNS was enough to sicken the weak. Luckily, Tsainetomo Keibatsu was not to be counted in that number.

Minimizing the sensor array’s read out, the Rollmaster opened up a new window, one that displayed Tsingtao Ming’s request for contact. He recalled Shin’s last words to him, the ones regarding Astronicus' War Machine's supplies that he ‘spoke’ before he took the Priest's own apprentice aside:

Excellent, hopefully your eyesight isn’t too sharp or your calculations too exacting.

Any other person would’ve taken the advice as a veiled opportunity to leave his Master with his Apprentice alone to chat, but the Rollmaster knew better; he wasn’t named the Abomination’s Prime Apprentice for being ordinary. As he attached an official CNS Requisition form to the message, the Priest thanked Krath that he and his adjutant Orenth had the foresight to encode certain ‘worms’ within the accounting and supply programs, ensuring that any ‘extra’ materiel would be shunted as needed and duly accounted for, with nothing amiss save to the most seasoned of slicers’ eyes. Tsingtao would have everything he needed, and then some.

Tsainetomo hit the 'send' button, and maximized his sensor screen once more. The Priest then cast a sidelong glance at the still chatting Overlord and his cousin, the Mad Alchemist. The Rollmaster knew that his family’s will was the Overlord’s, but everything seemed to hinge on Macron, Marked of the Wanderer as he was, and it was too soon to tell where exactly the Alchemist fit in the family plans to remain loyal. Tsainetomo would need to pull his cousin aside for that long overdue talk, and that, right soon.

Crew Quarters
RSD Final Way

Tsingtao allowed the hatch to slide shut behind him as he gave attention to his chirping transponder.

“Hmm...one new message.” Shin’ichi’s Apprentice clicked on the queue, and his eyes widened as a grin creased his mouth. It seemed he wouldn’t need to seek out Tsainetomo after all.

Opening a channel to Joseem, he spoke in excited tones. “Meet me at Supply, post haste, my friend!”

The Zabrak responded. “Sure...what’cha got?”

“What amounts to a blank cheque! Remind me to buy Tsainetomo a drink.” Tsingtao signed off, barely able to contain his satisfaction as he approached the turbolift.

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

The helmsman spoke up. “Admiral, the jump appears to be progressing normally. Our arrival at Telos should occur in 2 hours,” came the officer’s voice from the crew pit.

“Very well. Keep me posted on any developments,” replied Simonetti with a cool voice as he studied the Telos system holomap projected on his screen.

Macron groaned from the weapons command chair and placed his hand on his forehead. “Uggh,” he remarked with gritted metal teeth. “That hurts.”

Astronicus turned to regard him pointedly. “Are you okay, Macron?” he asked with concern.

“I’m not sure,” replied the Sith with a puzzled look on his tattooed face. “I’ve never felt this before.”

The Viceroy nodded sagely. “Meet me in the ready room. Let’s discuss this in private. Admiral, your presence is required.”

“Yes my lord,” said Araic Simonetti with a salute. “Bring Senior Commander Agrist to the bridge until I return,” he said to Tsainetomo.

Sai nodded. “Now hear this: Senior Commander Agrist, report to the bridge stat…” came his voice from the intercom system. He switched it off and turned to the madman, who was getting up out of his chair. “You okay Mac?”

“I think so. Just need some water and such. I’ll be right back.” Macron stepped into the ready room door, and Astronicus and Simonetti followed.

Ashura looked at them with curiosity at Tsainetomo as they stepped out. “I wonder what’s going on here?” he asked the Krath Priest.

"I have an idea," he replied casually. "And it's not good," passed through his thoughts.

Ready Room- Bridge
RSD Final Way
Sepros, Orian System

“What’s going on, Macron?” asked the Overlord as he settled into his chair. The Admiral stood by his side impassively, the perfect naval officer in all respects.

“It’s the Mark,” replied the alchemist as he held his throbbing temples in both hands. “It hurts. It’s never felt like this before. Something is wrong on Telos. Something involving the traitors, and another… I can’t quite put my finger on it. Somehow the Mark is involved in all of this.”

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Telos System

Kem-Shu Maeda flew at the two dark lords with all the ferocity of a true weapon master. Maeda had given up being concerned for his own survival. He simply came at them, a pure tidal wave of hate, having been betrayed and manipulated for the last time. After fifteen years of being used, he was finally fighting back.

The Krath called on the Force to bolster his strength as he hammered his lightsabers into those of both Master and apprentice, two amethyst, one crimson. For all their joint strength, Caerick was exerting himself in too many places at once, working to hold onto the minds of the ship’s crew while simultaneously trying to fight Kem-Shu off.

Darth Vexatus was different. It was as if he was toying with him.

That just made Maeda mad.

Reaching out, the Dark Jedi Master sent a blast of Force energy toward Caerick, blasting him across the bridge back toward the viewscreen and into Eosara. Kem-Shu redoubled his efforts against the apprentice, fanning his lightsaber in all directions as he moved against Vexatus.

Then blaster fire erupted from all sides as the crewmen turned, their hold-out weapons levelled on Maeda. It was all the Krath Master could do to weave the blaster fire away, filling the room with the cheee-chew of bolts being deflected.

The Falleen had backed off. He looked as if he was restraining a laugh. By now Caerick had gotten back to his feet and returned his attention to Maeda, but the sorcerer had deactivated his weapons and instead his hands were facing him, fingers hooked in his direction like predatory claws. Caerick snarled, bolts of violet energy flying at the other Krath.

Kem-Shu Maeda spun out of the way of a hammerhead smash from Vexatus and caught the lightning on his blade. It hit him so hard it nearly blasted him back across the bridge. Maeda cursed the pair of them, slowly being forced to give ground as Caerick continued to pour lightning in his direction while Vexatus simultaneously exchanged blows with him. It took all the energy Maeda could summon to drive his limbs to move fast enough and continue to block each thrust.

They were playing with him. Both of them.

Maeda realised he had never had a chance.

Caerick ceased with the lightning allowing Vexatus to redouble his assault. The Dark Lord pressed the attack, forcing Maeda further and further back. He was almost against the wall. The Krath had nowhere left to retreat. Their blades flashed faster than the eye could see, trading blows at lightning pace. Maeda could not hope to keep up. The Falleen switched from one lightsaber form to the next practically between individual strikes. It was unworldly.

Part of him wondered why he was still bothering. He was dead. He knew this. So why not give in?

But he had always been stubborn. He was not about to admit defeat. He would die first.

Caerick had already backed off, standing beside Eosara, watching inquisitively as his apprentice unleashed a fury Maeda had never before seen. He had known Xanos, then Vexatus, as long as Trev himself but he had never before seen this. How much else had the pair kept hidden? How much had even Kem-Shu been not trusted to hear?

“Do it!” barked Trev. No, not Trev, Trev was his friend, this Lord Caerick, this was someone else.

But that’s just it, Maeda realised. Trev was never his friend. Trev had used him since the beginning.

Lord Caerick was all there had ever been. Kem-Shu just had never realised it.

With those two simple words Maeda realised it was all over it. The sorcerer had given his butcher permission. The hate in Vexatus’s eyes seemed to intensify, Maeda was sure if those eyes had been stars they would have exploded. A surge of energy suddenly swirled through the Falleen and the crimson blaze sheared through flesh and bone. A hand dropped to the floor, clutching a blade of light.

Kem-Shu could not back away, he was already against the wall, though even if he could, he was certain it would have done him no good. The bloodshine blade returned before he could even think, taking Maeda’s other hand as well. Before Maeda could scream he felt a boot kicking him in the chest, forcing the wind out of his lungs, before an elbow struck him across the back of the neck, hunching him forward on the still smouldering stumps of his arms.

“Kill him,” Trev called, utterly impassionate. Maeda does not understand how he ever went so wrong.

“Trev please!” Kem-Shu gasped, his voice trembling in pain, desperate and helpless. He did not intend to beg. That was not his way. But as the devil stared down at him with only fire in his eyes, Maeda realised his entire life had been a lie. If those eyes were Chaos then the Dark Jedi Master no longer wanted to die. He couldn't face an eternity of that same fire.

“I have told you before,” growled the devil deliciously. “My Master is Lord Caerick!”

Maeda saw only blood as the crimson blaze eclipsed his vision.

As his head rolled across the floor the glowing tattoo on his forehead dulled and went black.

Turbolift
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to Telos

Now hear this: Senior Commander Agrist, report to the bridge stat…

Alector looked at his mentor and noticed another flicker of anger spread across the Senior Commander's face.

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with anything Battlelord De Ath was going on about," said the young man as Agrist stopped the turbolift. Isradia knew that Agrist had once been a member of this True Brotherhood, but he didnt know just what he done for them.

The Lieutenant Commander watched the senior officer redirect the turbolift towards the bridge. "We'll see," replied Agrist.

Combat Information Center - Bridge; four minutes later

The two DSOG officers walk onto the bridge, the younger Isradia smiled slightly towards his father; Alector had know Ashura had been on the bridge all along so it wasnt a surprise to see him there.

It also came as no surprise for Ashura to see his son following Agrist. The senior Isradia signaled to his son to come to him; the last thing he wanted was for Alector to be in the middle of anything... should anything happen.

“Where is the Admiral?” The son asked.

“His ready room with the Overlord.” Replied his father.

There was nothing to do but wait.

RSD Final Way

Fenris sat deep within meditation, his mind wandering from technique to technique, reaching deeper and deeper in to the disturbed mind of his. Memories began bubbling to the surface, times with Shin'ichi, times before him, and no happy memories came to the surface. He would have meditated further, but his commlink began to buzz.

"Yes?" asked The Krath, not wishing to be bothered at the moment. The other voice was Joseem, another of Shin'ichi's apprentices.

"An assembly of Shin'ichi's apprentices is to be made. He demands you be there." spoke Joseem. The Blind Krath only sighed heavily. He didn't like the event that was unfolding before his blind eyes, nor did he like the karma that seemed to follow it either.

"I shall be with you soon." spoke The Krath, stopping the conversation there. His anger began to rage within himself as he got up and thought of how he always seemed to bend to his master's will like some lap dog. He began to walk slowly towards the Hangar, where he assumed he would be met by someone, but he neither cared nor did he want to be met by anyone, isolation was good for the time being.

As he neared the hangar, he saw a particularly annoying protocol droid that he accidentally made one night, inching his way towards Fenris with the synthetic smile that all droids had.

"It is good to see you Master Fenris." spoke D-4PH, his metallic voice ringing within the Blind Krath's ears. "I was wondering when I would see you again, and here you are, just now in the flesh. I was quite pleased."

"Sith spit. D-4, do me a favor and take a hydrospanner to your head. I don't wish to speak with you nor do I wish for you to speak with me." spat Fenris. The droid wasn't necessary, it was there for one purpose and one purpose only, to know everything about recorded Clan Naga Sadow history wise, including Members and events.

"If you need me Master Fenris, I shall be here. Alone...like usual." chirped the Droid.



OOC: The Droid is an NPC that I have created. I figured he could be used in some way. He knows most Clan Naga Sadow History, I figured it would be a good way for some people to prepare. If not, then it allows my character to know what he's up against fully.

RSD Final Way
Officers Mess
Somewhere in Hyperspace

"Master!"
Malisane turned and frowned when he saw the Zabrak Dark Jedi Knight coming over to him. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on Kangaras"
Imgormiel came over. "I was at the celebrations Master, I did not see you there."
Malisane shrugged. He'd come to Sepros but on his own business. "I have no interest in these ceremonies," he replied, "and you should not have abandoned your duties to go. Until they appoint another Prefect you're supposed to be in charge at Usharak."
"I was summoned Master," the Zabrak replied indignantly, "the celebration was compulsary."
"It's a load of nonsense." Malisane snorted.
Imgormiel ignored this diplomatically. "Do you have any instructions Master?"
Malisane shrugged. "Practice your weapon skills, and when we get to wherever we're going don't do anything stupid like attacking Vexatus or Trevarus or rushing in like you did on Selen."
The Zabrak nodded. "Yes Master."
Malisane turned and walked away leaving his student watching him curiously.

Agrist was also watching, only on the monitor. He had access to view most of the Final Way, only the Overlord and the Governor's personal quarters were private He hummed thoughtfully. There wasn't much going on right now. "Alector?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know Imgormiel Slar?"
"Battlelord de Ath's student? Not very well, He's in House Ludo Kressh but he spends most of his time on Kangaras. Bit of a recluse. I heard he did well at Selen though."
"He probably doesn't know many people onboard. He's in the officers mess, why don't you go and have a drink with him?"
Alector frowned. "Why?"
Agrist grinned evily, "If I told you I'd have to kill you." He saw the young equite's face fall then added, "I am joking. I think he might know some interesting things."
"What sort of things?" Alector asked curiously, remembering the discussion between the Battlelords earlier.
"Just interesting ones," the mercenary replied, giving the clear impression he wasn't going to go into further details, "I might join you both for a private sabaac game later. You can introduce us."
Alector nodded. "Yes sir."

Supply Room
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace

Joseem joined the Tsingtao outside the Supply Room. They walked into the Supply Room and headed straight for the Quartermaster. .The Quartermaster saluted the incoming Sith duo.

“Welcome, Commander Ming. What can I do for you today?”

“I need everything on this list and I need it yesterday.” Tsingtao handed the Quartermaster the requisition list he obtained from Tsainetomo. He motioned for Joseem to stand by the door. “No one comes in until we are through.” He whispered to Shin’ichi’s other apprentice as Joseem left his side.

After what seemed like hours, all the items were brought before Tsingtao by the Quartermaster. “That is everything you requested. Now if you just sign…..”

“You don’t need my signature.” Tsingtao responded waving his hand in front of the Quartermaster.

“I don’t need your signature.” The Quartermaster replied.

Tsingtao nodded towards Joseem. Joseem concentrated on the Force and lifted the items onto a repulsor cart. With everything then needed gathered in front of them, Tsingtao and Joseem left the Supply Room. Tsingtao hesitated briefly and returned to the Quartermaster.

Tsingtao reached forward and retrieved the datapad with the requisition. “We were never here.”

“You were never here.” replied the Quartermaster as he watched the two Sith leave the room. A few second later, the Quartermaster snapped out of his trance and returned to his work like the past hour never happened. “Wow look at the time. I’m almost off my shift and I feel like I haven’t done anything today.”

Outside, Tsingtao pulled out his comm link. “Master, we have collected all the items you have requested.” A cold metallic voice answered the call. “Keep them from public view and where I can access them when I am ready.”

“As you command, my Master.”

Captain's Quarters
Autoch DC009 Fallen Spear
Hyperspace, en route to Telos

The message light blinked at Muz, the little red strobe snapping the Dark Lord back to attention. Flipping open the hidden slot on his prosthetic arm, the datapad lifted slowly, bathing him in muted LCD tones. The data streamed across the screen, his eyes flashing as he read through it.

...Agent Kilo niner did not respond per schedule. Assume perished...

The corners of Muz's mouth raised, but even he didn't know if it was a grimace or a smile. He felt the Old Krath's passing, but the confirmation still somewhat resonated. This complicated things, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about Maeda falling under their spell. Pulling up the navlink for the ship, he debated for a second, calculating how much time until they reached the destination.

Sliding the miniaturized viewscreen back down into the armor shielding of his arm, the Lord spun on his heel and moved toward his armory, his mind already choosing the tools for the day.

Bridge
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to Telos

Ashia paced the bridge, her hair and longcoat flaring as she turned. The doors opened behind her and she turned abruptly, letting her eyes fall across the Knight. The spitting image of his father, Sanjuro looked nervously around the command deck. He moved quietly, seeing the grave image of the Overlord in the command seat, eyes almost glazed over as he watched the swirling miasma of hyperspace, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

"Mother..."

Ashia paused a moment, blinking for a moment. "Muz is meeting with us soon."

Sanjuro moved closer, a conspiratorial edge in his voice. "Will dad be able to... I mean..."

Tron's eyebrow raised subtly. Ashia's keen eyes caught it, but Sanjuro kept on mumbling before she put a finger to his lips. "Don't worry. The traitors don't stand a chance."

"There's prize few that your father can't take down." Tron spoke quietly, his voice seeming to mute out all other sound. "Trust me, everyone knows it. What happened with Cotelin, with the Lord Hegemon, even Lord Rokir..." Tron gazed off to the distance, the words of Paladin sifting through his mind to interrupt him.

Sanjuro turned from the Overlord's distracted visage, eyes slipping to his mother, looking for confirmation. Ashia merely nodded. Sanjuro nodded himself, slowly, turning to leave as the Consul moved toward the communications array. "I just wish he was here already."


Special Quarters
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace en route to Telos

The belt transceiver vibrated on the Abomination's hip. Shin'ichi flipped it from his belt and flipped it open, the violet hologram reflecting off of his icy eyes.

"Brother..." The metallic tinge to his voice resonated eerily reminiscent of Shin'ichi's own vocabulator.

"Lord..." Shin bowed his head briefly. Muz looked mildly irritated by the title being used by his brother, pausing before relaying his plans and rendezvous points. Nodding slowly as the information sunk in, Shin tried to respond with his mind, forgetting the strain hyperspace travel placed on the telepathy before using the clumsy vocabulator instead.

"...and I trust Sai is still with us?"

Shin merely nodded, knowing well how the Korun Keibatsu had been working extensively with Musashi during the last few months. A swell of pride blossomed for the successes of his student in the Abomination.

"And how is Macron taking it?"

Shin'ichi laughed, the sound of monorails squealing off of their track screeching from his speakers. "Macron knew better..."

"Yes, but Vexatus moved before he could get anything too good out of him, I'm betting." The eldest spoke quietly, his eyes distracted by something off-projector.

"Macron has a great trick up his sleeve..." If Shin had a mouth, he'd have grinned.

ISD-II Harbinger

A dispassionate eye watched the death of Kem-Shu Maeda at the hand of Darth Vexatus. Trevarus had waited years for this battle to commence, and he was pleased to see that he was correct. His Sith Apprentice was greater than one of the most powerful of the Marked. The last vestige of his Imperial ties had been destroyed. He had convinced the man under pain of death to bestow the Third Sight upon him, knowing that there was no other path to unlocking the mysteries presented to him by Lord Malak in the Holocron recovered from Antar IV.

And in all these years, his Apprentice had never asked to see as his Master saw.

That was about to change.

The Sorcerer closed his eyes as the Mark opened and an image that had flashed through his mind a thousand times before did so once again. It was of a crimson sky. Two suns already burned in the distance. A third sun rose before night fell and all turned to dust.

Trevarus stared into his Apprentice’s eyes, brimming with power and burning with raw lust for knowledge. Vexatus fell to his knees before the Sorcerer. The request went unspoken but it was as sure as if it had been written in stone.

Complete the circle. Give me the Mark.

Trevarus looked down into those two suns and smiled faintly. It was time. "Xanos Zorrixor, Lord of the Sith... thou has read the Scrolls of the Forgotten?" he said, performing the necessary rites. His Apprentice would not take that from him.

"I have studied the Mysteries from the three mouths of Azhi Daka, and pondered the riddles of the Seven Enigmas. I know the identities of the Heralds, and seek to supplant them." The words were utterly empty. The Sorcerer knew the Sith cared nothing for them... only power.

"And whence shalt thy go forth from this place?"

The twin suns glinted with anticipation. "To roaming and wandering between the worlds."

"Then for all of thine days, bear this Mark with thee, that none shall harry thine passage or lay hand upon thee. Bear the Mark of the Nameless Apprentice, the one who wanders beyond the shadows, that thou shalt study the mysteries even unto the consummation of thine Path."

With a small clap, a simple blade of broken, jagged obsidian appeared in Trevarus' hand. He carved the eye in the middle of Vexatus' forehead, and rubbed in a measure of an oily, coal-black substance. Vexatus began to scream, his cry echoing into the deepest levels of the Force. Vexatus gave the cry of a stillborn child, swift, shrill, then fading to black. Blood ran down Vexatus’ forehead as he opened his glowing red Mark for the first time.

The third sun had risen.

"As is the Covenant before the Wandering Apprentice, I do henceforth name thee Secunda, and my Apprentice. Thou shalt bring before me those of the Erro, that they too be named Tertia or Erroni, that all with vision be Marked with the Sight of the First Apprentice." Trevarus finally said.

"What is thine command, my Master?" Vexatus asked staring up at the Sorcerer.

"Trace the tailoring of the Weavery... we are being followed. How many seek our destruction, and for what ends?" Trevarus said, his eyes still closed, and the Mark glowing even more violet intense.

"I sense one among us... who does not respond to your domination, a Thread shows me a dual core, leading between us and the depths of space. I cannot penetrate the Weavery to uncover more, but the whole of Clan Naga Sadow has united against you." Vexatus said.

"I agree, Secunda. The threads of possibility are oft woven into the ropes of circumstance. There is one in our midst who is between worlds. Our eyes shall be watchful, our Sight open. In time, all mysteries shall be revealed."

"As you command, my Master," Vexatus said, his voice unnaturally submissive. The flush of the newly Marked was one of awe, seeing what their Master saw for the first time. Vexatus had been introduced to perhaps the most powerful aspects of the Mark upon his initiation. He had killed a Secunda, requested to take his place. This left him to undertake the full expanse of the deepest levels of the Weavery. Only the Prima could see deeper than Vexatus.

At the rise of the third sun night shall fall. He reflected back on this prophecy, uttered so many years ago. It’s full implication only now showing its value, staring into the burning suns that were now the eyes of Darth Vexatus. I have united the Orders.

The prophecy of Alain Caer had been fulfilled.

Lord Caerick reflected on this moment for a heartbeat.

"Engage the Hyperdrive, we depart immediately."

RSD Final Way

Macron Sadow nearly collapsed from the pain extruding from his Mark. Bestowed upon him by Master Sadow during the height of the Battle of Antei, he was still a mere Erronis. Yet, he felt the passage, and the anointing of the next Secunda.

"Maeda is dead. Vexatus has assumed his place." Macron said, almost under his breath.

"What did you say?" Astronicus asked, perplexed and interested.

"I know how to find them. Both the Prima and the new Secunda are my Masters in the ways of the Nameless One... I can find them" uttered the Alchemist, his mind opening to the mistake which would cost the Sorcerer everything.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Hyperspace

Darth Maestus was waiting when the doors slid apart and Darth Vexatus entered his quarters. The Mark on his forehead had closed and there was nothing but a still bloody horizontal gash where Trevarus Caerick had carved the eye.

Maestus had her hood down leaving her ruined face for all to see. She smiled. “I see you have finally fulfilled your destiny,” the Sith Lord said. “Now there is nothing standing between you and Mastery.”

Vexatus strolled past the shade to gaze out the viewport into the swirling depths of hyperspace. His ascension to Secunda had been far more intense than he had imagined, his Mastery of second sight not having prepared him for the wonders of the Third Sight. To see beyond not just time and space but gaze into the very truth of the Force itself... there was not a word for it.

Darth Vexatus had waited far too long, unable to reveal himself lest the Star Chamber have realised his true agenda years ago. Finally free to embrace the entire truth of his Master’s teachings there was no longer a need to hide in shadow. He allowed the fiery Mark on his forehead to open, gazing once more into the eternal construct, his eyes like three stars.

The Falleen had seen the end. He was sure his Master had too.

His lips curled into a delicious smile. His victory was at hand.

“Do not allow your overconfidence to rule you,” spat Maestus acidly, as if she had read his thoughts, and she probably had. “You may now bear the marks of both Sith and Krath but your Master could still prove difficult.”

Vexatus pictured the image which had flashed through his mind moments earlier after first receiving the Mark. Trevarus Caerick had been laid out beneath him, his arms crossed above his face, shielding him, one hand replaced with nothing but a smouldering stump. The Falleen laughed.

“My Master is of no concern now,” said the Dark Lord. “I have foreseen it.”

The plastisteel almost cracked when Maestus blasted Vexatus into it. “The future is always in motion. Do not allow your new tricks to render you blind.”

The Falleen would have crushed Maestus had she been alive but she was not even a ghost, nothing but an echo, a shade of her former self. Instead, he bowed his head, “I understand, my Master.” As much as he despised it, Darth Maestus was never wrong.

The woman nodded and pulled her hood up so that it covered her features. “There is but one more thing for you to do. Knowledge must be guarded and I have no more to teach you.”

Darth Vexatus turned away from the hypnotic swirl of hyperspace and looked at Maestus. He did not need to ask for his expression to convey his confusion. “Your teachings are safe with me, mistress.”

Maestus grinned in delight but shook her head softly. “I have passed my knowledge onto you, Lord Vexatus and now you must pass it onto another. That is the way of the Rule of Two.” The shade floated over to where the holocron rested on a pedestal in the center of the otherwise empty room. “Destroy me.”

Vexatus frowned. “Destroy your holocron? Why?” he said, soundly faintly concerned. “What if I require your advice? You cannot possibly have taught me everything.”

“Some things must be learned by doing, my apprentice,” Maestus said. “My role here is ended. You have become my heir. Now destroy me.”

The Falleen picked the holocron up and rolled it over in his hands, admiring the intricate runes and inscriptions which had been carefully engraved throughout the surface and crystal matrix within. To destroy it would mean to be unable to converse with Maestus ever again. To do so would mean to be utterly alone but likewise it would mean her teachings could never fall into the hands of another. He would become the sole heir to the true Sith way.

“Do it,” insisted Maestus, her voice scolding.

Darth Vexatus stopped thinking and surrender to action. It was the way of the Sith. It had to be done. His hand closed around the device and he tightened his grip, shattering the crystal matrix as shards of glass dug into his hand which began to bleed. He kept pressing, gripping harder and harder as he drove the shards deeper into his palm until the holocron was completely destroyed.

When Vexatus looked up Darth Maestus was gone.

Bridge
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to Telos

Tsainetomo began flipping switches on his console. The sensor suite had not alerted him to the presence of the Harbinger as yet; he was prodded by his battle-honed senses, forged in the fires of conflict. Once more, into the breech...

His voice, eerily calm considering the circumstance, sounded over speakers all over the vessel. “Now hear this...reversion from hyperspace, eminent...the ship is now at General Quarters, I repeat, the ship is now at General Quarters...all squadrons, report to your wings and make ready for launch. Wing Commanders, assignments will be transmitted to your datapads. Gunnery crews are to report to their stations. Ground units, standby.”

Astromechs and droids all over the RSD activated and began doing preflight checks in unison; the ship’s ambient lighting dimmed as if in response to all of the ancillary conversations ceasing as the Clan began going through their own preparations for the upcoming struggle. Armor was being attached; power packs were slapped into blasters. Sublight engines in XJ-Wings and power plants in LAAT’s began to idle. The great turbolasers thrumed to life, and the effect was profound as the entirety of the Final Way began to hum in the well-practiced moves that came with a deadly efficient war machine stirring from slumber.

The Overlord nodded in satisfaction as Tsainetomo’s voice once again rang out, this time over the speaker in his ready room.

“Sire, the ship is now at G.Q.”

Astronicus’ vengeance was near. He suppressed a shudder of anticipation as he felt the minds of the crew, mundane and Force-user alike, still themselves for his order to unleash the might of Sadow on those who would be anathema to all he had worked for.

RSD Final Way
Officers Mess
Somewhere in Hyperspace

Alector walked into the Officers Mess and spotted Imgormiel Slar. The young noble quickly thought up a good reason to strike up a conversation with the Imgormiel. The Equite walked up to the bar and ordered two drinks.

"Let me see your ident card, son."

Great, his eighteenth birthday was long way off and there was no way he would be getting served; like that has ever stopped him before. Alector's green eyes flashed for a moment. "You dont need to see my ident card."

"I dont need to see your ident card." The man replied.

"You should get the drinks."

"I should get the drinks, one moment."

Alector watched as the man went off to get the two drinks. It was too easy; all his life it had been this easy to manipulate the weak-minded. It wasnt something he liked doing as he been raised to not abuse his abilities.

He took the drinks and walked directly up to the Zabrak and said, "Hi, your Imgormiel Slar, I've seen you about but haven’t had a chance to talk to you."

The Knight looked at the Battlemaster; he had been taken back by Alector's directness. "You wanted to talk to me," replied Slar suspiciously, "why?"

"Why, I heard...oh wait, I got you a drink," he then handed the drink over, "anyway, I how you handled yourself with those Vong baddies; I wanted to see if the rumors were true?"

"Rumors?"

"Yeah," Alector then looked surprised, "oh dont tell me you dont know what Im going on about? That whole business at Usharak Keep! I can’t believe dont know this; a lot of the Journeymen in Ludo Kressh call you the 'Hero', they all look up to you as a role model."

"R-Really?" Imgormiel gulped down some of the drink due to this surprising revelation.

"Yeah, I was hoping you could give me some pointers... I never been in any battles like the one were going to have. I have to admit I'm a little scared. I would sure love some advice."

Alector lead Imgormiel over to a table where they both sat down; appealing to ones vanity had always been a diplomatic move for anyone to make. Isradia then used his telepathy to order another round of drinks.

"Want to play some sabaac while we talk?" Alector smiled.

RSD Final Way
Officers Mess
Somewhere slightly further along in Hyperspace

Agrist entered the Mess and glanced around. Alector was sat talking to the Zabrak Knight. Aside from that the bar was quiet, the presence of the Overlord and Clan Summit on board must have been dampening people's spirits. He walked casually over to the table and smiled. Imgormiel looked suprised, Agrist was somewhat of an enigma in the clan, there were rumours but people never knew what to believe. He also knew that apart from the Admiral the entire crew were terrified of this quiet but deadly man with his one eye that seemed to take in everything.
"Ah sabaac is it?" Agrist asked.
"Just a bit of fun," Alector replied quickly, "no high stakes."
"Deal me in?" the Battlelord asked.
"I guess so," Imgormiel replied and Agrist sat down.
"Drinks first," Alector said, "whose round is it?"
"Mine I guess," Imgormiel said and got to his feet. "Battlelord?"
"Whatever you guys had last." Agrist said with a shrug and the Zabrak went to the bar.

Once he was out of earshot Alector leaned closer, "So what now, we get him drunk?"
Agrist shook his head, "No, for one thing you can't handle your drink, and secondly he lives on Kangaras with nothing to do except look at trees. He probably spends his life with his head dunked in that foul stuff the ewok's brew. He can probably outdrink half the Sadows."
"So what then?" Alector asked, ignoring the mild insult about his drinking prowess.
"We play sabaac." He looked up as the Zabrak brought the drinks over and Alector began to deal.

After about half an hour Imgormiel was a third up on his original money, and Agrist and Alector were loosing at a deliberatley steady rate.
"Why don't we make this more interesting?" Agrist suggested.
"How so?" Imgormiel asked suspiciously.
"We could up the stakes, give us a chance to win our money back."
"Sounds fair," Alector added on cue.
"Maybe somewhere less noticeable though," Agrist said thoughtfully, "I've got some good liquor back in my quarters."
"Very well," Imgormiel agreed.

A few minutes later Agrist showed them in. His quarters were basic, simple metal furniture and a neat bed. "Wow for the ship's commisaar you got ripped on the accomodation," Alector observed as he and Imgormiel sat at a metal table.
"It suits my purposes," the Battlelord replied, "I come here to sleep." He walked over the the metal cabinet and withdrew two bottles, pouring one for himself and Imgormiel from first bottle, and the second for Alector.
"What's the deal?" Alector asked as Imgormiel looked suspicious.
"You're not on the hard stuff I don't want Ashura on my case," Agrist said, then gave Alector a meaningful look.
"Very well." the young man said quietly.
"Deal," Agrist told the Battlemaster.
Agrist took a swig of his drink and watched as Imgormiel did the same. After a few seconds the Zabrak's eyes glazed over. Agrist carelessly spat the liquid he'd been holding in his mouth onto the floor.
"I thought you couldn't get him drunk." Alector said, waving a hand in front of the Zabrak's face.
"It's not alchohol," Agrist replied. "Thank you for your help Alector, now I can ask some questions of our friend here."
Alector sighed, he'd wanted to stay. "You want me to leave?"
"Watch the door outside."
Alector left glummly.
Agrist leaned intowards the Zabraks face. "Now some questions."

Bridge
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to Telos

Macron returned to the weapons command seat and sat down gingerly. A stroke of his fingertips awakened the slumbering display, and he began to type in information. The reversion was almost upon them, and he needed to catch up after his moment of weakness. He hated for anyone to see that he did indeed have a human side- like a cat falling in the toilet and being caught doing it.

“You okay there?” asked Tsainetomo as Astronicus, Ashia, and Sanjuro looked on. The silence was ominous. Macron looked uncomfortable and squirmed with the eyes all focused on him.

“Err, yeah I’m good. Whatever it was, it passed. No time to wonder in any case. It’s go time,” cackled the madman as the screen lit up in front of him. “Time to lay a hurtin’ on some fools. Come and get some,” he mumbled.

“Well, he’s back to normal,” quipped Ashia as everyone chuckled and the tension broke.

The entire ship gave a jolt as it reverted from the streaming starlines of Hyperspace. The Final Way slid in first, followed by the twin Vibre class vessels and the Heretic Sun. Tsainetomo spoke up across the main com channels.

“Gravity well generators on the Interdictor active… all vessels are…” His hands spasmed and swept the comlink closed as he turned to the others on the bridge with an exasperated look. “They are gone! There’s no sign of them. I’m looking for their trace right now.”

Astronicus stood up and pounded his fist on the seat armrest. “Damn them! I was certain we had them. I want all available personnel to track them, immediately! Now!”

“I have the old incoming jump signature of a Charlie-niner corvette,” reported one of the sensor officers quickly.

“Ident on it?” asked Tsainetomo as all eyes turned to them.

“The Sanguinus, registered to one Trevarus Caerick,” came the reply. “No sign of it now sir, nor is there an outgoing jump sig for it. We do have one for the Harbinger, but no traceable vector. Possible the CR-90 was intercepted by the Harbinger.”

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
Telos

The doors parted with a familiar hiss and a wave of anger flowed forth as the Pontifex Shin’ichi stepped through. His rage at the nightmare deferred by the elusiveness of the ‘Harbinger’ was evident to Dark Siders and Mundanes alike. In the pit of his stomach he felt the pressure that Macron was under. In the back of his mind he sensed the excitement of Tsainetomo. In his heart he felt the Overlord’s hatred for those who had spurned his favor and legacy. But his blood called him to the CIC and to his “twin” sister the Consul Ashia.

Sister…it would seem that our prey is more elusive than we thought.

Tsainetomo winced at that. He knew that his master was deliberately provoking ire in the Consul and Overlord, but to what end he was unsure.

Yes brilliant assessment brother, now silence yourself.

The Abomination narrowed his eyes and his metallic voice resonated off of durasteel walls when he spoke.

Watch your tone with me Epis. Consul though you may be, and a Kyataran Queen of the Blood remember your place.

With that the Pontifex turned to face his overlord and bowing his head to honor his sovereign gave a supplicants oath.

It is my honor to serve you Lord Sadow and it shall be my greatest pleasure to lead your warriors into battle.

At this Astronicus raised an eyebrow.

Lord Keibatsu, though you are a seasoned warrior and an honored Son of Sadow we have a Consul most capable of leading us to victory over these blasphemous traitors.

If Shin’ichi had a mouth he would have smiled a sly and introspective smile.

Our Consul is a most capable warrior and leader Lord Sadow, but she does not know the minds of the traitors as I do. Remember how far back our history goes my lord. I have many…insights into the Falleen and the Narcissist, and I do not believe that this confrontation will be won by might alone.

Ashia’s ire was certainly raised at her brother’s presumption, but as a credit to her character she restrained her simmering anger as she addressed both of the men, cutting off a possible reproach from the Overlord.

My brother is correct Astronicus. He does have insights into them that I do not. Perhaps we should make him commander over our Special Forces.

At this Astronicus smiled knowing full well that a landing on any planet that Trevarus and Xanos settled upon would only lend to exhaust his forces and result in a minor annoyance to the traitors. In effect his Consul was being very politik in placating her temperamental brother.

So be it Commander-General Keibatsu, but this doesn’t excuse you from participating in any starfighter engagements. We need our best pilots out there if they decide to fight in open space.

Shin’ichi bowed and smiled inwardly. They thought him an irrational tool, a weapon to be wielded by others as they saw fit, and to be placated like any other demented fool. No doubt they thought the same thing of his adopted brother Macron, but he would play their game, and in the end glory would be his.

As you will Lord Sadow, Lady Keibatsu. I shall make our Special Forces ready for any possible invasion or infiltration.

As he left the Combat Information Center Shin’ichi touched the minds of both Macron and Sai. He would need to meet with them, before they caught up to the traitors.

OOC: If you originally skipped my post last page its up now.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Hyperspace

Darth Vexatus stood transfixed as he stared at the jagged shards of broken glass sticking out of his palm. He had not yet bothered to clean his hand. The blood was still fresh where he had sliced his fingers and the glass had dug deep into his flesh. He had crushed the holocron, destroyed it, and Darth Maestus was gone forever. It was only right. He now was the sole heir to her legacy. But it still left a sour taste.

Vexatus was not afraid but there was something about being the last remaining Sith Lord, at least as far as he knew, and if there were others they would need to be destroyed anyway, who followed the true teachings of the lords of old not the heresy spawned of the Star Chamber.

He felt... alone.

True, there was Trevarus Caerick, but his Master would soon be no better off than Darth Maestus. There was only room for one to embody the power of the Heart of the Force. The prophecy would be fulfilled and it would be Darth Vexatus, not Trevarus Caerick, who would fulfil it.

I shall become the Living Force.

His lightsaber blazed to life before he had even felt the cold shiver run up his spine. The Dark Lord twirled and felt his blade pass right through the figure stood behind him, certain to cleave his attacker in half.

Impossible.

“How are you here? I destroyed you,” the Falleen uttered in disbelief.

Vexatus stared down at his palm and his eyes opened wide in shock. The shards of glass disappeared and were absorbed into his skin, the wounds healing almost instantly until his hand was good as new again apart from the black scars that did not fade. “What happened? What have you done to me?” the Falleen hissed, urgency in his voice. Vexatus did not like being tricked. "Explain yourself!"

The specter of Darth Maestus looked back at him with a mocking grin.

“You truly are my heir,” Maestus said firmly. She stared at him with her hard and steely eyes. “You and I are one. In destroying my holocron you have proven yourself worthy to inherit my mantle. You are the Master now, Darth Vexatus.”

The Falleen felt something shift. The great wheels of creation turned as if a cog had fallen into place. He could feel the truth as it pumped through his veins, the knowledge of Darth Maestus absorbed into his body. He watched the ancient Sith Lord’s entire life flash before his eyes. He could almost feel the veil of darkness fall across the Force, casting it into darkness as mastery of all the ancient Sith Lord had been washed over him.

Darth Maestus smiled mischievously, her eyes burning with malice and the patience of having been caged for thousands of years, waiting for this day, to pass on her mantle to the next true Lord of the Sith.

“I am ready,” whispered the Falleen, more to himself. The Mark on his forehead fluttered open and he breathed in the entire essence of existence. “The end game approaches.”

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
Telos

Gone. Vanished. His chances of exacting vengeance on the traitors were growing smaller and smaller by the minute. This irked him to no end, but there was only so much His Clan and crew could achieve by relative means. Technology only allowed such and such things to be done and accomplished. To find the treacherous duo now he would have to resort to other means. Paladin could no doubt reach out through the Force to locate them, but he had locked himself within his quarters - preparing for the eventual battle that would spell imminent disaster or complete victory for everyone involved.

His options could be number on the digits of his hand, they were that few and fleeting. He would use the most insignificant of these just so he could claim that all available resources were exhausted in the end, should it come to that. Walking over to the communications hub he approached Tsainetomo for a report.

"Has the Kangras Division arrived yet?" Asked the Overlord. A nod of negative from the Krath Priest allowed Astronicus to move further in his questioning. "And what of our other guest?" He need not mention the name of the Deputy Grand Master, for most of the Keibatsu family were aware that Muz was on his way and would be lending his aid.

"According to reports and trajectories, they should both arrive within the hour, Lord Sadow." Offered Tsainetomo.

"Then that leaves me but only one question," Said Astronicus, "which is this: Have we gathered any intelligence from the associates of the traitors that we had taken into custody? Anything that can point us in a direction of where to go next?"

"I am afraid not, Sire." Replied Tsainetomo as he looked over a screen on his console for any updated information from back home on Sepros. "But should something develop or be reported, I'll bring it to your attention immediately."

"Very well, thank you for your service." Astronicus walked towards the table situated in the center of the CIC and looked over the holo-display of the Telos system. With the tap of a few buttons he zoomed out and took into account all of the neighboring systems and anything of value or significance that Vexatus or Trevarus might go towards next in their quest. There was nothing. Nothing viable at least. Astronicus slammed his fist into the side of the table, his frustration now become more evident to those round about him.

"My Lord, perhaps I can be of service." Offered a voice from behind with a slight cackle. Astronicus turned to view the Mad Alchemist. They called him mad, but Astronicus knew all too well that Macron was far from it. He had a talent that none of the others aboard possessed, but Astronicus did not want it coming off looking as if he was exploiting him - though that would be the Sith thing to do after all.

"Tell me, Macron, how do we find two beings among many that we seek to destroy?" Asked the Overlord rhetorically.

RSD Final Way
Telos


Jades shuttle landed with ease, the door opening with a hiss the top of the landing platform barely touching the deck as she marched her way down and out of the shuttle bay leaving the ship to the attention of the crew, who knew better then to let a single scratch touch the Priestess shuttle. The Hallway had been long and full of anticipation as she went to find Josseem to ask him about his message....or at least that’s how it had started.

Now her mission was to find her master, it had been his summons, and besides Josseem was no where to be found, probably off trying to impress some newbee. Rounding a corner she cursed. "This thing needs a freaking map!" Her footsteps echoing off the metal walls, her eyes never wandering to the crew or other members on the ship as she passed by. She had one mission and that was to find her master. One of the little mouse looking droids made the mistake of squealing up to her boot and bouncing into it. with no effort she used the force to float the thing into the air and fling it down the hall, letting it bounce off some poor crew members head. The shocked swearing only made her grin.

Remembering briefly some plans she had skimmed over on the way to the Final Way she figured she was close. It would only make sense that he would go to the CIC, so that’s where she would look first. As she round the corner the force wave shot through her in a dark power burst, signaling for her to duck and tuck roll away, just in time to miss the strike directed at her from Shin 'ichis’ out stretched arm. Jumping to her feet and taking a step back, bowing slightly with her head. "Master...you have called I have come."

He stared back at her, not saying anything for a moment, his hand resting on one of his sabers at his side, his voice sharp when he finally spoke. "My apprentice, what is your name?"

Shocked by the odd question wondering if perhaps her master was starting to go insane she took a moment to answer. "My name is how you named me Master, Zilliah."

"Then why did you enter the Final Way with the name Jade Atema?"

From taking Shin'ichi on before and testing his buttons, she knew his stance and his voice were tell tales that something was up and this was clear violation. She knew when to back down. She kept her eyes low as she spoke. "I'm sorry master it shall not happen again."

Shin'ichi looked at his apprentice for a moment. "You're damn right it won't or next time I'll make sure I don't miss!" He tapped the hilt of his saber for effect but she knew he wouldn't need it to get the point across so she nodded in understanding.

"Yes master." Returning her eyes to his own, a somewhat bold move as it could be taken as a challenge. "What services do you require of me, the Sword of Ragnos?"

Just Outside CIC
RSD Final Way
Telos

Sword of Ragnos?

Shin’ichi spoke the words with disdain.

That is nothing more than vanity and foolishness. You will not use that title in my presence again.

Lowering her head Zillah acknowledged the will of her master. The Pontifex motioned for her to follow him down the corridor and as they walked he continued his interrogation.

Tell me Zillah, how did you find your way to Telos? It was hardly common knowledge that the Final Way would arrive here from Sepros.

The Priestess’ ire grew as her master questioned her loyalty.

Joseem sent the coordinates…Master The last she said with a hint of anger.

Shin’ichi was glad that his impetuous student was learning restraint. Someday soon, he hoped, she would cross the threshold that all true practitioners of the Dark Side crossed and allow the last vestiges of mercy and compassion to die within her. For that he would need to force her to do something that in her mind would be unforgivable.

Very well Zillah, for now walk with me…we have much to discuss.

RSD Final Way

Fenris sat within the hangar, twirling his lightsaber, as he did in moments of boredom. The Krath was waiting for his master's directions, as was told to him by Joseem. He began wondering what was going on, he had been given no information other then Vexatus and Trev were now no longer his Clansmen, but instead beasts to slaughter.

Fenris had taken his comm link out, deciding to contact Shin'ichi, his boredom seeping within his very core.

"Master. What is thy bidding?" asked Fenris, his voice was emotionless, he was neither happy nor angry that his Master was testing him, growing tired of the entire event that was transpiring.

"Meet me in the War Room soon. I am dealing with Zilliah now, then I shall deal with you." spoke Shin'ichi, his mechanical voice ringing in Fenris's ears.

"I shall wait for you." spoke the Krath, hanging up and moving towards the War Room. His boots clicking on the obsidian floor, the echoes ringing in his ears. His tranquil walk was interrupted with his annoying droid running towards him.

"Master! You have no idea how happy I am to see you! I hear Darth..." spoke D-4 only to be stopped by Fenris. The Droid looked at him quizzically, his metal head bobbing from one side to the other, arms going up and down. "What Master?"

"Let's play a game D-4. I know you like games." said Fenris, smiling. The Droid shook his head indicating that it was a falsehood, but The Blind Krath continued. "It's called Get away from me. If you are still here by the time I make it to the War Room, I will make a very nice paper weight out of your chassis. Got it?" threatened Fenris.

"Master, if you do not like my programmed personality, why not reprogram?" asked the Droid innocently, to which Fenris only said the word "Blind."

ISD-II Harbinger
Enroute to Lehon


"Eosara, what is the operational status of the Cohort?" Trevarus asked, his eyes not leaving the gaze of swirling blue white. He needed a distraction to allow a paradox to unravel. Some musicians he knew, had stories read aloud as they composed.

"Cabals Alpha and Delta are currently assembling your projection equipment. Delta Commander reports three hours time to completion. Beta and Gamma are on standby... Zeta is practising with the Electrostaves you provided. They are remarkably profiecient. I tested the better part of the squad with a combination of Makashi and Krili, and even Shii-Cho. I was impressed."

"Excellent." Trevarus said. Of the five Cabals of his Cohort, Zeta was the elite. Eosara had personally trained every single one of them to be as skilled as he was in resisting Force users, and fighting them. Eosara had trained with a Lightsaber, and was truly gifted for a mundane. The Zetas did not receive such training, but Trevarus often thought they could rival the Sovereign Protectors of old. He has perhaps the most brilliant soldier short of the Marshal of the Armies of Tarentum in his employ, and perfect loyalty.

Yes, years had been spent preparing for this venture. Mystical and mundane preparations had been seen through. Every move on the Dejarick board had moved with perfection. None had questioned his raising of a private army. His assets were far-reaching and diverse. They required protection from those jealous of his holdings. The man himself needed no protection, but the towering form of his Seneschal had often been enough to cool a hot temper.

Temper.

That was it. Tempering.

"What are the projections for arrival?"

"Seven days, Trev. Give or take fluctuations." Eosara responded.

"Very good." The Sorcerer responded.

"Lord Caerick, I have someone I'd like you to meet." A cold voice said behind him. Trevarus saw red lights join the faint splash of twin violet against the transparisteel. He turned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The ghost-form of a woman seemed to fade translucently across the bridge. Her face was hideous, scarred beyond recongition, although Trevarus surmised she had once been beautiful. That was the way of tragedy. The Passion of the Sith destroyed their bodies, the physical decay scarring their flesh as the Dark Side consumed them. The Krath drove their evil through sheer will, and the Force merely addled their minds. The Dragon growled as Trevarus considered the peculiar way he had avoided madness. Lord Ashen would no doubt agree with Shan Long.

"Lady Maestus, truly and honor."

"Mock me not, Son of Alain Caer." The Ghost said

"How do you know that name?"

"Your Apprentice has told me little of you, save your ambitions... yet you have his eyes."

"And you know of my forgotten ancestor's eyes?"

"Indeed. Mine were the last he saw before his death."

"How droll. The Son of my Father's Father died many decades ago, Spirit."


"I'm sure, young one." Maestus said, raising her clawed arm. She turned her eyes upward, the cowl falling off her hideously deformed face. Trevarus felt his hand raise, the Amulet of Orian burning with a fire he had never known. He would have screamed, but the pain was insignificant compared to the power of the Dragon.

The Fragment of Ombus began to fill the entire bridge with violet light, yet shimmering blackly.

"Spirit, I release you." Maestus said.

"Only the dead may release the dead... from whence have I been bidden from the shadows?" A voice, withered and ancient said.

Projected above them, was a man of ancient stature, only his head and shoulders visible. Long silver hair, with streaks of its original black hung over a face that was withered if not handsome. Yet it was his eyes... bloodshine amid streaks of tawn.

"I greet you, Lord Orian." Maestus said.

"This one has carried my Relic for his years, growing stronger. Would you intrude upon a sacred bind, mere woman?" The Shade of Orian said gravelly.

"A dead fool is still a fool." Maestus retorted.

"Where they Master and Apprentice, Trev?" Eosara asked. "Because they sound bloody like you and Vexatus."

Combat Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
Telos

“My lord, as you know I bear the Mark,” mused the alchemist as he rubbed his tattooed forehead.

“Yes, I know,” replied Astronicus. “What’s your point?”

“Somehow, the Mark is instrumental in all this. Once one has it, the connection to Master and student exists as a line in the Force…” Macron elucidated. “Like a string on an instrument, waiting to be plucked.”

“I see. Is it possible you can trace them via this method?” queried the Overlord.

“I think I can, with the help of another. As you know, a large part of my body is synthetic. Yet I retain the ability to use the Force, and at a respectable level. How might this contradiction be, you might ask? Almost thirty percent of my DNA is actually that of my ancestor,” stated the Warlord quietly.

“I’m familiar with your history, as I am with all those who bear my name. Do you mean Tremayne, the one that… grew you?” asked Astronicus. “That wouldn’t account for your abilities as a Sith. You’d be thirty percent as powerful as he, and that would not add up.”

“No, my liege. In his research for Lord Sidious, Tremayne uncovered a redoubt containing an ancient tissue sample and grew some of my cells from it apparently," stated Macron. “It’s a little known bit of information that I've been loathe to share. I only verified it recently through a holocron.”

"From whom?" asked the Overlord as his curiosity grew.

"I mean Darth Malak. Thirty percent of who I am is He. That shade has tormented me for years, and was responsible for drawing me to the Clan originally. He had a frightening grip on the Dark Side, and I’m a mere echo of that. It’s no wonder I’m a lunatic, so to speak. With the right ritual, and the Mark, we could trace them by summoning the Shade of Malak. I suspect he’ll know where they are, given that Vexatus spent a lot of time with the Holocron of Antar 4. Of course, I can’t do this myself. We’ll need talented sorcerers to do the job," chattered the Equite.

The Overlord nodded thoughtfully. “Lord Muz will be here within the hour. We’ll gather a few of our best ritualists and then begin. You are aware this could kill you?”

“I am,” frowned Macron. “But at least you don’t have to worry about me going insane from it. And if it ends up getting those who betrayed me slain, then I’m all for it.”

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
En route to Lehon

The two shades did not seem to have noticed the living among them while they glowered at each other in derision. It was an impressive display for two who were less than dead. Trevarus knew well the history of Urias Orian and how his spirit had been destroyed, ripped apart by the ritual that had ultimately been his undoing. What lingered before them was not a ghost but an echo of the past.

As for Darth Maestus, the secrets of Sith holocrons were many. Vexatus must have now carried a fragment of her essence within him, no doubt much like the echo that apparently remained of Lord Orian inside the Amulet. Quiet realisation dawned on Trevarus of the feelings he had oft experienced, not so much a voice, but the latent passion of Urias Orian. Where it seemed Orian had wanted to preserve a piece of him forever, Maestus appeared willing to doom the last fragment of her spirit by tying it to a mortal life. How like a student of the Rule of Two to make way for her apprentice, Trevarus mused.

A curious sight indeed, especially on the eve of their great victory. It was surely a sign. Though there was a worrying question how the spirit knew so much. Maestus was clearly far better informed than Trevarus had assumed. What further secrets of Antei did she possess?

What secrets of Antei had his apprentice kept hidden he wondered?

Their stare off at an end, Lord Orian turned his attention to the sorcerer. The glowing fragment of the Star of Ombus imbedded in the Amulet glowed vibrantly. “Long have I studied you, Trevarus Caerick. Tell me, what makes you believe you will succeed where I failed?” Even dead there was a sense of power in Orian’s voice, as if it was an honor merely to grace his presence.

Trevarus Caerick bowed his head. “My lord, I have studied the secrets of the ancients more than any who lives. The prophecy shall come true. I have foreseen it.”

Maestus studied the sorcerer closely, her eyes transfixed on the glowing stone in the Amulet forever bound to his arm. Her eyes flashed knowingly when she turned away and looked upon the three burning white suns of Darth Vexatus’s eyes. The witch suppressed a sneer in Trevarus’s direction. A prophecy shall come true, she mused, but it shall not be the one you wish for, Son of Alain Caer.

“You may have studied the ancients, young one, but I was one of the ancients,” Orian finally said forcefully. The ancient Sith Lord must have seen the assembled crowd as little more than children. Orian allowed his gaze to fall on the Falleen who had remained detached from the verbal sparring session. His eyes flashed with something that looked like understanding. Orian’s gaze narrowed. “Always in motion is the future, do not forget that,” he finished, turning back to face his bearer.

Trevarus considered the Sith Lord’s words closely. Urias Orian had been the source of his obsessions. If any knew the folly of ill preparation it was he. No, the sorcerer would not be led by his dreams, he understood the power of change only too well. “I respect your wisdom, Lord Orian,” he said with a further bow of his head. For all his wisdom and all his power, Trevarus still respected formalities. He was sure that was one thing his apprentice would never understand.

RSD Final Way
Passenger Berths
Hyperspace


Imgormiel opened his eyes to find the Battlelord stood over him. His head was pounding.
"Come with me Imgormiel," Malisane ordered coldly.
The Knight nodded. "Yes Master." He pushed himself to his feet, reaching for his saber.
"You won't need that," Malisane told him.
He lead the dazed Zabrak out of the room and down the corridor to the turbolift. Malisane pressed a button and it began to descend. After a few minutes the doors opened and they got out. The corridor leading off was empty. "We can speak in private down here, this area is closed for maintainence."
He lead the Knight throw a door and closed it behind him. They were in a room full of empty crates. It was dark and Malisane left it so.

"Alright, what happened last night?" Malisane demanded.
"What do you mean?" Imgormiel asked cautiously.
"I know you stayed in the mess after I left, I know you played cards with Alector Israida and Agrist, and I know you were seen leaving with them. You were also seen thirty minutes walking in a trance like state to your own room. What did you tell him?"
Imgormiel thought carefully. "He knows about you Master, about your visit to sector K240K."
"What else?" Malisane repeated coldly.
"He guessed you were planning on leaving, and he knows you and Warlord Sadow met someone before Selen after which you closed off most of your affairs. He also knows that Captain Senth went with you and hasn't been seen since. And about plan Alpha One."
Malisane considered this. "You managed to confirm his suspicions?"
"I tried not to, but he was very persuasive."
"He threatened you?"
"No but I think he drugged me."
"He slipped you something, and then you opened your guts about me." Malisane leaned in closer.
"I am sorry Master, I did not intend to say anything. but he deceived me."
"You have let me down badly Imgormiel. I trusted you," Malisane told him quietly.
"You did not!" the Zabrak said back defiantly, suddenly releasing built up resentment "I am your student, and you intended to leave without me!"
"I did," Malisane replied, "and I still do."

The Zabrak fought as the powerful Battlelord gripped his throat, slamming him against a rack of crates. Imgormiel was strong, but Malisane was more so. The Zabrak fought against the Equite as Malisane stared into his eyes. "You are a liability Imgormiel, and of no further use to me." He smashed the Knights head against the crates, let him drop to the floor, then clamped his foot on the Zabrak's chest, pressing down heavily as Imgormiel tried to push free. Malisane drew his saber, and with a final glance into the panicked Knight's eyes stabbed it downwards. After a few seconds he removed his foot from the corpse, then leaned down and heaved the body into an empty crate, squashing it down. He sealed it, then heaped several more onto it. Satisfied he pushed his saber into its belt clip and quickly left the room. The entire encounter had only taken a few short minutes. Now he just had the mercenary to deal with.

Bridge
RSD Final Way

Ashia stalked over to the communications and sensor array, her ire simmering just beneath the surface of her features. Stopping at the console, she gave her cousin a not-so-familial punch in the shoulder.

“All right, Sai; spill it!”

Tsainetomo was giving his eyes a much needed rest from his continual vigil. He had been in the middle of pinching the bridge of his nose, eyelids squeezed shut, when Ashia’s strike broke him from his respite.

“That’s a frell of a way to ask for a status report, cousin,” the Priest said while rubbing his sore shoulder. “Well, the sensors haven’t picked up on any...”

Ashia interrupted him with an annoyed wave as she leaned in. “You know what I’m talking about!” She hissed angrily. “I mean about Shin! What was that all about?!” The Nightsister referred to their earlier dust-up in front of Astronicus; no one, especially anyone in command, and especially not a Keibatsu, stomached open rebelliousness in the presence of mundanes and the Overlord.

Tsaintomo regarded her for a heartbeat, then shrugged; “Am I really to know, Ashia? After all, I just work here.” Then, his face became still as he cocked his head in the traditional Korunnai manner. “Do you mean to say that you’ve lost your connection with him? Can you not sense for yourself?”

Ashia gave no response as she straightened and walked away, deep in thought. Just as well; the questions being rhetorical, Tsainetomo expected no less than her silence. As the Abomination’s Prime Apprentice, he knew very well that Shin’ichi had been delving in arcane matters of late. Shin could have indeed found a way to stifle the ethereal connection he and the Consul had, but it was not his place to say so.

Just then, Macron and Astronicus had ceased their palaver at CIC and made their way to Tsainetomo. The Overlord drew himself up to his full height and spoke as the Alchemist stood by, gravely silent.

“Tsainetomo Keibatsu, Preist of the Krath Brotherhood Mysteries, I require your service.”

“You have it without question, sire,” was the Rollmaster’s response.

“I expected no less. Come with us.”

“Your will is mine,” Tsainetomo said as he motioned the Senior Comm Officer to his station. He rose, facing the Overlord square; Astronicus placed both hands on the Priest’s shoulders and locked eyes with him, emerald-green boring into tripartite-blue.

After a whisper of time, Astonicus allowed a satisfied grin to form. “Loyal and unflinching to the last.”

RSD Final Way
LAAT Hangerbay
Hyperspace

Joseem had spent the better part of a few hours moving equipment down to the hanger. He had had to "influence" every single crewman from Supply down to the hanger. He levitated all the equipment into the Low Altitude Assault Transport (LAAT). This one had an outward appearance of being a bit on the used side, but her engines and armament, as well as her ablative armor, were first rate.

Joseem finally stood back from the LAAT and gave it the once over. The LAAT, as far as anyone would be concerned, was just like every other one in the hanger bay. Joseem pulled the comlink from his belt and opened a channel to the Prefect of Gamuslag. "Tsingtao, all is ready in the hanger. We are loaded up and ready." he said. Tsingtao replied, "Good work. Come back and I will fill you in on what is going on in person. I don't trust this open channel."

Joseem clicked off the comlink and returned it to his belt pouch. I'll be happy when we finally get into the thick of it, he thought, I might learn something from these traitors that will gain me more power, that is, before I destroy them.

Joseem's walk back was made in silent contemplation.

Posting on behalf of Ashura since the forum was down last night when he tried:

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
En route to Lehon

Sub-Lieutenant Kuraha Runosa (which was really just an anagram of the woman's real name; Sakura Haruno) was transfixed with the events taking place on the bridge. None of the other crew were paying attention, all doing there jobs as their minds under Lord Caerick's control.

Sakura could feel the tentacles dug deeper into her mind; it was only her sheer hatred of men and the idea of being used a mindless pawn that kept her from completely being taken over.

The woman realised there were many things now she couldnt do, as it would be betraying her Lord to his enemies and that must happen; she knew at her core that this Dark Jedi Master was only using her as he was the rest of the crew. They were nothing to him...and yet he was everything to them.

To call for help was impossible now as her surface mind was too entangled in his web. However an idea did come to mind; it was crazy and she didnt know if it would work. The woman tapped on the console in front her which dealt with the hyperdrive. She couldn't stop the Harbinger from reaching its destination but she could perhaps cause a few hiccups.

Fighting even harder for conscious control of her body, even for a brief moment, was hard work. Lord Caerick's will was indomitable, but the recent events had let slip ever so slightly; enough for someone fighting for control to do what she wanted to do.

It was easy really as with a couple of taps the ion drive flooded the engineering compartment. Theta radiation was deadly after a couple of hours and even if Lord Caerick didnt care about the lives aboard he would still need people to operate the ship. Although letting everyone die was irrelevant the Harbinger had its own safely measures to take place should this happen.

The engineering compartment sealed itself off and the radiation building up was vented through ducts outside of the Star Destroyer as it traveled along Hyperspace leaving what could be described as a nasty trail of Theta radiation behind the vessel. If someone was looking then a trail of "breadcrumbs" had just been laid out for them to follow.

Prefect’s Quarters
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace


The Prefect was sitting at his desk re-reading the mission specs set forth by Tron. His concentration was broken by the sirens calling for General Quarters. He quickly jumped from his seat and ran to his closet.

Once there, he assembled his armor and cloak and headed for the Hanger Bay. He reached for his comm link, "Hanger Bay Control, this is Commander Ming. Prepare my ship for take off." The comm link registered a brief amount of static before a reply was returned.

"Commander Ming, your ship is ready along with the rest of the Sapphire Squadron. Your ship is in Hanger Bay Delta, pod 7."

"Acknowledged, Control. Ming out!"

OOC: Sorry about the change.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
En route to Lehon

“The echo speaks the truth, my Master,” whispered a sinister voice as Darth Vexatus passed right through Maestus. The woman looked at him and scowled. Trevarus Caerick felt his attention drift to his apprentice. “Tell me, Lord Orian, how did it feel to climb so high and yet fall so very far?”

The shade of Urias Orian turned to face the living Dark Lord, his eyes narrowed as his face twisted into an expression of outright disdain, “Who are you to question me, Lord Vexatus?” The shade’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Oh, I know you well, alien.”

Vexatus returned the sneer. “I’m sure you do,” he said acidly. There was something about Urias Orian remaining hidden within the amulet all this time that irked the Falleen. Was there something his Master had kept from him? The thought was... worrisome. “Why have you chosen to reveal yourself now? Does the nostalgia of your own failure wish you to partake in our glorious victory?”

In the shadows, Darth Maestus allowed her torn lips to twist into a tight grin.

“Your arrogance is unbecoming, boy,” spat Orian with pure contempt.

“You will show Lord Orian respect, my apprentice,” said Trevarus dryly, though he did not press the point. The sorcerer did not wish for a confrontation here, not while his apprentice was still of use to him. No doubt, the feeling was mutual.

Darth Maestus’s shade glided around beside the Falleen. “It would seem since receiving the Mark my apprentice is in need of rest,” she announced. “Lord Vexatus, perhaps you should return to your chambers to meditate?”

Urias Orian gave a nonchalant shrug. “So long as he takes you with him, woman.”

The Falleen narrowed his eyes in his Master’s direction. “I will leave you to your hero worship, my Master,” said Vexatus cynically and with a twirl of his cloak the Falleen and his shade were gone.

As he watched his apprentice leave, Trevarus felt the dragon begin to slither beneath the surface. Not yet, he thought, pressing upon it with his will until it cowered and scurried away.

“An interesting choice of servant,” Lord Orian said dryly.

Trevarus sighed, an image of the three suns flashing through his mind again. “Forgive me, my lord,” the sorcerer said, sighing. “His philosophies differ from those of you and I.”

“As have I observed,” the shade replied. Urias Orian turned to face Trevarus, his tone turning deadly serious, “He knows the same as you.”

The sorcerer stared out into the blue and white swirl of hyperspace and nodded sombrely. “I have taught him all I know,” he said truthfully. With Maeda dead, there were no longer any secrets between Master and apprentice. For all intents and purposes they were now equals. Master and Master. It was all just a difference in ideology.

“I sense similar conflict within you,” stated Orian, it was not a question.

Trevarus heard the dragon roar again but did not answer.

In his quarters, Vexatus opened himself to the Force, the still fresh Mark on his forehead flittering open as he stared out the viewport, hands clasped behind his back in meditation. When he heard Darth Maestus speak it was in his mind, her shade having disappeared.

I warned you he may become a problem, Maestus said scolding. Be glad I was there to reveal the secret of his amulet now, not when it was too late for you to prepare.

The Falleen had closed his eyes, surveying the threads of hyperspace only through the Mark, taking in the truth of the universe. “Had you allowed my Master to access your holocron years ago the same would have been the case and I would have had more chance to prepare for it.”

Suddenly Vexatus nearly doubled over from the dagger of pain that shot through his body.

Teach him? Maestus demanded rhetorically, she was anything but amused. He does not even think of himself as Sith... only a member of that pitiful cult. Be grateful I even acknowledge his existence.

For all her wisdom, Maestus was a fanatic. Maybe a Krath had betrayed her once. Vexatus shrugged.

Do not ponder over it, Lord Vexatus, whispered Maestus. I am sure Lord Orian has silently guided his actions since he first found that amulet. I have merely revealed the truth. The woman paused, a thought suddenly entering her mind. In fact, perhaps this will work to our advantage. His emergence may trouble your Master more than he will aid him.

The Falleen considered it. There was a chance the sorcerer would be unsettled by the fact the ace he had been saving had been played early. However, Vexatus had always felt his Master was holding something back about that damned amulet. Perhaps Lord Orian was it. “Regardless, it changes nothing,” the Falleen said confidently. “The Heart will be mine. I have foreseen it.”

In his mind’s eye Darth Vexatus watched as a dark orb hung over him and he drank of its infinite power. Yes, his Master would not be a problem. The image of Trevarus Caerick cowering before him flashed through his mind once more. Victory would be his.

ISD-II Harbinger
Bridge
Enroute to Lehon



The form of Lord Orian did not fade as his Apprentice and his own ghost exited stage left. Act One was nearly to its conclusion, and the second act seemed to promise the height of drama. There was silence for a moment.

"Long have I watched you, my son. You understand where your Apprentice did not. You taught him everything, but you did not teach him everything." The Ghost said evenly.

"That is true, Lord Orian. I taught him to see, yet I could not teach him to understand."

"He has not the gift of Sorcery, where did you learn?"

"From you, of course, my Lord. Sorcery is but a word, transcening the mere notions of Krath and Sith... petty labels that really mean nothing. Wisdom is the application of what one understands... and understanding begins with questioning Knowledge. Xanos' fault is knowing too damn much about his cherished Sith Code." Trevarus said, the violet intensity growing a bit stronger.

At this, the Ghost of the ancient Dark Lord began to laugh heartily. He laughed such that every being within range froze.

"These are your unwilling, yet obedient pawns. They are your puppets. That, my son... is wisdom."

Trevarus merely smiled, faintly.

"In the end, my fate is the same as your, Honored Lord. I will die... but only because I will have become something greater. That is the true meaning of the Prophecy of Alain Caer. I am the fulfillment of the Prophecy of the Seven. The watered down version I gave to the Star Chamber, was really a paraphrasing of an excerpt from his writings."

"How is this, my son? Surely you are not the only Corellian ever to read the tales of your forebear." Orian countered.

"In all honesty, I believe the only surviving manuscript is in my possession." Trevarus held out his left hand, and the Legion Holocron appeared in it.

"Exposito..." At the word, the vast shapeless mass of mouths in an ethereal cloud began to coalesce out of Legion.

"Legion, Sing for me, of the First Songs."

"Remember our father..." Legion replied.

Trevarus closed his eyes. Alaerus was a tall, proud man. His hair was sandy-blonde, just taking on gray at the time of his death. Trevarus bore hos mother's eyes eyes, the piercing blue that could scare the life from a man with the right set of his face. Yet his smile was warm, like his Father's cheerful, yet somehow evil in the twist of father and son. Somewhere Trevarus had inherited a balance of his father's good nature, with his Mother's stern demeanor. She was a Judge in the High Courts afterall. Yet, it was his father.

Legion shifted.

And I dreamed...
I dreamed of the dawn of man,
and the twilight of the Force.
There will come a Herald,
who sees from beyond the Foundation
Upholding his law with a fist of fire.
Within his thrice sight,
Uniting paths seven fold
Know then, when the scion of my line
Does from the Shadows reign
United be the Orders two
Four in two, two in one
All fall down when thunder roars

Lord Orian seemed to shift for a moment, as if something troubled him. "You welcome Apotheosis, knowing it means your death?"

"As did you, I suspect, my Lord."

"Ahah. Yes..."

"What I have chosen to share... has been quite selective. Much of the prophecy has been fulfilled by mere circumstance, other portents by choice. If there is any difference." Trevarus conceded.

"It is difficult to know the outcome of any choice, until it has been made. I too made a decision, remember. Did my choice affect yours?"

"And which came first... the Phoenix or the fire?"

"Hence you understand the nature of Paradox." Orian retorted.

"How could I have borne your mad will for the better part of my life, and not, my Lord."

"Indeed." With this final word, the shade disappeared.

Trevarus mulled over these words for a moment. He craved a bit of something, a taste of battle. "Eosara?"

"Yes Trev?" his Seneschal answered.

"Ready one or four of the best of Zeta Cabal, I wish to test their proficiency myself."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? As far as I know, we need the best on the surface. You killing them doesn't do any good."

"Oh, but they'll be facing the closest approximation I have to a rival. If they can survive me, they can take on the Star Chamber."

"You're an arrogant bastard, you know that right?"

"You remind me every few minutes, yet it hasn't changed a thing."

"Duly noted. I'll increase the frequency of my reminders."

"Even you might not survive it."

"Yeah... but if you killed me, you'd have to manage your own damn affairs. Like dealing with the Housekeeper's Local."

"Touche." Trevarus conceded.

"We'll, let's go. Colonel Zatan would be honored to meet you in melee combat."

RSD Final Way
The Bridge
Telos System

Malisane stepped out of the elevator and looked around curiously. Astronicus and the Keibatus were clustered around Simonetti talking quietly, Agrist and his shadow Alector were stood watching out of the viewport, and Ashura was stood on his own with a thoughtful expression. Malisane chose the last to talk to. "What's happening, why are we sat around here."
"We've lost them," Ashura answered, "we know they're heading for Lehon, we don't know where Lehon is."
"Ah," Malisane replied considering this, "we have some sort of plan?"
Ashura nodded. "They're considering their options."
"Go to Dystopia, order a large pint of beer and wait for all this to blow over?"
Ashura grinned. "No."
Malisane sauntered over to a bridge officer. "You got probes out?"
The man looked up in suprise. "Yes sir."
"Anything interesting?" Malisane asked.
The man tapped at his console and a list appeared on a small screen. Malisane read it over his shoulder. Nothing unusual so far. "Stop," he ordered quietly. He pointed to the screen. "Theta radiation."
"Small buildup of it." the man confirmed.
"Can you detect a source?"
"It's not natural," the man confirmed, "the source appears to be emenating from just outside the system, there's a trail of it."
"It could be a radiation leak." Malisane surmised, "every ship type emits a slightly different signature. Run a check."
The man did. "Seventy five percent chance it's an Imperial Class."
Malisane smiled. "Ashura you got a moment?"
Ashura frowned and walked over. Malisane showed him what he'd found. "You'd better tell them don't think they'd listen to me."
"You can detect a vector?" Ashura asked dubiously
"We should be able to," Malisane replied, "it's a weak trail but it's definatley going somewhere, we have technology that can track it."
"Alright I'll go speak to Astronicus," Ashura replied, "you can come with me."

Ten minutes later the Final Way jumped to hyperspace, following the trail.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Six and a half days from Lehon

Hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed apart from the newly carved Mark on his forehead, Vexatus stared out into the fathoms of hyperspace, his mind on the future, and on the past.

Images of his Master flashed through his mind. He thought back to his original Master, Vykan’s many warnings to stay away from the heretical sorcerer. Vexatus found it ironic now how true Vykan had been, Trevarus Caerick was going to bring doom upon the Brotherhood, the old Prophet had been right, perhaps Vykan had foreseen it after all.

The Falleen snorted. If only Vykan could see him now. Lord of betrayal, the right hand of his Master, vanguard of a new order. Vykan had never understood. He had always been unable to see what Trevarus could see. And now Vykan was dead and soon the rest would follow. Cowards all.

They brought it upon themselves. Maestus’s words echoed in his mind. She had been right.

For all their rivalry he and his Master were still friends. Vexatus acknowledged without Trevarus he would have never learned to see and still be blind like all the rest. But there was no room for loyalty, friendship, compassion. Loyalty was the Brotherhood's greatest weakness. Trevarus himself had taught him that. The sorcerer would expect no less.

In the end there can only be one, thought Vexatus silently. He knew his Master would be thinking the same. The Prophecy of the Seven spoke of only one true ascendant.

But for now they had preparations to make. Lehon was still six days away.

They would need to be ready. For war.

Republic Star Destroyer Final Way
Seven days from Lehon

The Overlord leant back in the command chair at the rear of the admiral’s deck. Astronicus had always felt it looked more like a throne than a chair. Right then the thought brought him little comfort.

“Jedgar, tell me, where did I go so wrong with those two?” asked Astronicus. He was no doubt the only one onboard the entire ship able to be so frank with the Sith Lord. But then, Astronicus had always been friends with the Star Chamber through Master Yoni.

Paladin took a puff on his ebon pipe before answering. “None of us could have known, Tron,” replied Jedgar gravelly. “I took my own gamble with helping them, though I confess I never expected this.”

Astronicus glanced sideways at where Lord Paladin was staring out a nearby viewport. The Overlord was probably the only person in the Clan able to ask his next question and not expect a painful rebuke, “Could you not simply have carted them in then?”

“And done what?” Jedgar said with a shrug. “You know Jac, Trev always was too close to him. I daresay that was how he secured his apprentice’s place as Shadow Hand in the first place. Justinian and Faethor too.”

Jedgar took another puff on his pipe. “No,” he said dismissively, waving his pipe to reinforce the point, “They planned this from the beginning.” The Sith Lord’s face sunk a little. “I should never have listened to his legends about Antei. That planet has cost us much already. Now it may cost us everything.”

Astronicus recalled how Trevarus was said to have been the one to have first informed Firefox of Antei. Could he have been planning this all along? The thought brought a chill to the Overlord’s heart. Dark he may have been, but the sorcerer was twisted. Twisted and evil. The next six days were going to be some of the longest in his life.

We will stop you, Trevarus Caerick, thought Astronicus. On my ancestor’s name, we will stop you.

They had no choice but.

If they lost all was at an end.

Cenota Facility
Gamuslag, Orian

A small bird like creature was marched at gunpoint in shackles down through a tall atrium. In the dim light Vallen could make out row upon row of isolation cells, each no more than a meter or so across. The Fosh could not tell how many, the lights seemed to go on forever into the darkness. Looking down, he could make out at least another eight levels, but was sure they continued further.

“Here,” barked one of the SOG troopers escorting him. The sergeant tapped a keypad on the side of the cell and the door slid aside, revealing a compact chamber. It had no lights, no windows, not even a bed.

Vallen felt a sharp jab in the back of his spine and stumbled forward. The trooper prodded him with the barrel of his rifle again until the Fosh moved all the way inside. “No dreaming, you hear,” laughed the trooper. “Trust me. You wouldn’t want to go to sleep down here.”

“Explained already, I have! With Vexatus, involved am I not!” cried Vallen’dere.

“Tell it to the judge,” spat the trooper as he stepped back. The man grunted. “Oh, that’s right. We don’t have judges here. Guess you’re out of luck. Sweet dreams.”

The door slammed shut leaving Vallen with nothing but darkness.

I have tried to tie together the stories in preparation for skipping forward through the hyperspace journey tomorrow (i.e. expect a "Six Days Later" post). Just keep that in mind if you post anything between now and then so your story doesn't get left hanging.

RSD Final Way
LAAT Hangerbay
Hyperspace

Just as Joseem was making his way back from the hangerbay, Tsingtao came rushing past him in full armor. "Get back to the hanger bay and have Krill help you distribute all that gear between the seperate LAATs", he said. Joseem turnned around and ran back to the hangerbay, pounding at his wrist hologram. "Lieutenant Krill! Get that gear moved to all the other LAAT's. You know which ones." "Right away, Sir!" replied Krill.

Joseem decided that maybe his personal LAAT would be the best place to wait for any mission to start.

RSD Final Way

Fenris sat in the War Room, waiting for his master. He didn't like waiting, he grew bored easily and when that had happened, his emotions inundated him. His eyes, whiter then his skin, began to look back and forth, his fingers creating a drumming sound on the table, he became antsy and began to fidget.

His comm link began to buzz, no doubt it being Shin'ichi, and no doubt he had important, life altering things to tell Fenris.

"Master." said Fenris, giving Shin the respect that he deserved.

"Fenris. I find it best that you train, you being the, well...the weakest of my apprentices." said Shin'ichi, his words stinging Fenris to his very core. The Krath's blood began to boil as his Master jabbed at his competency.

"Your weakest? How do you figure I am your weakest apprentice?" questioned Fenris, his knuckles turning white and his anger blurring his judgment, the rage amplifiers in his head only making things worse.

"You have no troops to back you, no political rank to call upon reinforcements, nor do you have the physical prowess that my other apprentices have. You are also lacking in lightsaber combat, and lately you are having trouble grasping advanced techniques of the Force that I have been trying to teach you." spat Shin'ichi, his words like spears to Fenris's ego and The Krath's heart.

"You...want me to...train is it? Against what? The Ship doesn't exactly have anything that I know of that will help me improve or allow me the chance to fight enemies of the caliber of Vexatus and Caerick." spat Fenris, defiance raging as his anger grew. He closed his eyes as he tried to imagine himself training against mediocre combat droids, not showing the challenge of training Shin was referring to.

"I have a gift for you. I have brought 4 Assassin Droids, set to my Easier Training Regiment. If you can't beat these, you stand no chance against Vexatus or Caerick." said Shin'ichi as he ended the conversation. Fenris slammed his comm link to the table, breaking it into many pieces and leaving a dent into the metal table.

Training Room

The Krath stood in the vast room that was the Training Room. The walls had blood smears on them, oil spewed all over the floors, scratches and dents lined the area, making it hard for the Blind Krath to get a feel for the room.

"What'll it be today Fen?" asked the Training Computer, who called the Krath Fen instead of his full name.

"Damn glitches...Uh...Run Shin'ichi's Easier Training Regiment." answered Fenris. The computer began to hum louder, the cooling systems in it struggling to keep up with the fast thinking computer. Two Assassin Droids quickly entered the room, holding two sword-like weapons.

"Thanks...Let's see how these things are." said Fenris, getting his lightsaber ready. The Assassin Droids seemed to activate hearing the hum of the lightsaber, the red light bathing everything in it's light. The Assassin Droids began to circle the Krath, and he in turn started to become aware of his surroundings , the Force allowing him to see again. The Assassins moving closer to him, preparing their death sticks for a killing blow so soon in the game.

Fenris made a small sound with his lips, a popping sound, resonating off the walls and returning to his ears. He lept towards one of the Droids, stabbing it in the chest and kicking the other in the head. "You kidding me?" asked Fenris, as he pulled out his saber. The Droids weren't so impressed, smacking the Krath in the head and hitting him with their swords. The Krath retreated back a few steps, only to leap towards the Droids once more, trying to land a blow to their chassis, but alas no luck.

"Sithspit." said Fenris, blocking one of the Assassins strikes, and kicking the other. The Droids were relentless, continually attacking Fenris with their pole-like swords, only dropping Fenris deeper and deeper into anger. His rage clearing his head, and making him act almost mechanical, stabbing the droids in many different places, only leading them to back away from Fenris for a minute.

The humming of the damaged Assassin Droids grew louder and louder as they began to slowly become slag from the Krath. They were being flung left and right from the infuriated Krath, his anger enhancing many of his abilities, which he used to his advantage.

The Assassins became less and less fluid in their motions, becoming choppy and sparking every so often. Their programs weren't running efficiently on the battered chassis's and they began acting more human like, doing last ditch efforts to try and stop Fenris.

"I guess I win." said Fenris has a huge torrent of energy blasted towards the Droids launching them back into the metal wall, leaving the two droids to be encased within the metal.

Fenris fell to his knees, his injuries that he had gained from the fight were numerous, and despite the Force aiding him, he still had barely survived. On his knees, he felt the pieces of his comm link vibrating, indicating he was being contacted.

"What?" snapped Fenris.

"Congratulations." said Shin'ichi "You've beat 2 out of the 4 Droids. With the amount of anger that was being pumped out of you, I'm honestly amazed. They would have killed anyone else, and you had to completely give yourself over to the Anger and the Dark Side that was within you."

"I am still your weakest apprentice..." spat Fenris.

"The more you bathe in your anger, the stronger you shall become. Now get ready for the upcoming events."

With that, Fenris was off to get some rest, and wait for his chance at the traitorous duo, soon Fenris would prove that he was not just some weak apprentice, he would show that he was strong enough to be, at the very least, a minor thorn in Vexatus and Caerick's side.

Bridge/CIC
RSD Final Way
Hyperspace
5 days from Lehon


Macron concentrated as he stood next to Sai. "Yes, the coordinates correspond with my intuition of the other Mark bearers," he said as they studied the readouts. "The ritual must have been a success."

Tsainetomo nodded in agreement. "There was no time to wait for the others. Astronicus and I seemed to have performed it correctly from the old text. I've always been interested in sorcery."

"I'm glad I was unconscious during your ministrations," remarked Macron dryly. "With these ion trails, and the information gleaned from Malak I think we have the location of fabled Lehon."

"You should have heard the things the shade said," remarked the Krath. "It's a good thing Lord Paladin stopped by to see what we were doing."

"He did?" asked Mac in surprise. "I was out."

"Yes. And the excorcism was successful I think."

"Excorcism?" asked Macron in disbelief. "You're serious?"

"Yes. And I think you'll find your mind to be less fractured. It would appear that the Shade was sort of 'attached' to you in a way. Not anymore, cousin," smiled the priest.

Macron yawned and strode to the turbolift. "Thanks. Time to hit the rack," he mumbled. "It's been a loong day." And I need to be rested for this fight, he thought.

ISD-II Harbinger
Hangar
Enroute to Lehon


"Stand your ground and fight me!" Trevarus bellowed. "You, Zeta 6-4, 12-10. Join him. Strike me down!"

Two of black-armored soldiers stepped forward, their electrostaves thrumming to life. They swung the weapons in swift arcs and swirls, reminicient of Shien. Eosara has taught them well, Trevarus thought.

Zeta 1-2, Eosara's own Second in Command and Executive Officer of the Cohort had named the Fourth of Cabal Six and the Tenth of Cabal Twelve as his greatest warriors. Out of twelve cabals of ten soldiers, these two were quite honored. Trevarus smirked.

"You'll be fighting a dozen lesser than me. If you cannot stand your ground against me, how will you not be slaughtered by them? Bear arms and fight like the warriors you are!" Trevarus glared. "I smell fear."

"Ave Domini Caerick, Morituri te salutant!" The three said in unison, charging forward with their lightsaber-resistant weapons. Trevarus grinned, his lightsabers flashing black-violet. This is more like it...

Electric crackling of energy-meeting energy began a staccato array of thundeclaps in the hangar. They fought surrounded by the assembled Cabals of Zeta Cohort, facelessly cheering the fight. Trevarus revelled in the spectacle, catching himself at times showing off a bit. In one strike, he parried the blow from one man on his shoto, swinging his right arm around, catching another on his Amulet. With a nod of his chin, the third toppled into the crowd, who pushed the warrior back into the fray.

For six hours, they danced. Trevarus prolonged the battle, never quite landing a finishing blow, but the implication was received none the less. His warriors never made the same mistake twice, and quickly caught the rhythm of the old Sorcerer's ways. Eosara smirked when Trevarus ducked fast to avoid a strike of an electrostave he hadn't seen.

Finally, the Krath raised his right hand, and all three stood down. There was no sign of fatigue in their demeanors or life-force.

"You have fought very well, my warriors. This battle shall be the end of all. Each and every one of you has shown me the utmost of loyalty, your service to my cause has been without reproach. This Battle is the culmination of everything I have ever asked of you. This is the final battle. This is our battle!"

With a thunderous response, the assembled of Zeta Cohort shouted "Ave Domini Caerick, Morituri te salutant!"

"Ave, mea Bellatoris! Morturis e salutantis!"

"HAIL LORD CAERICK! HAIL THE HERALD OF THE FINAL WAY!" They chanted in response.

"Go no, rest... in three days time we shall depart. Drink, celebrate the final battle, but for tonight only. For in three days time, we die! We die for glory, we die for Honor! We die for the conclusion of sacrifice, and the glory of those who fall into the legacy of honor!"

"AVE DOMINI CAERICK!"

Trevarus dropped his hand, and the assembled of the Cohort departed.

"Eosara, let them have their fill... but forty-eight hours from reversion, see that none have alcohol... and allow none to drink themself into a stupor."

"That might be hard to avoid, Trev." The immense man said, grinning slightly.

"Darth knows I could go for a drink myself... I'm retiring to my cabin."

Are you quite finished with the theatrics, my Master? A cold voice said into the Force.

Mere mortals respond to mortal vice, my Apprentice. Steel and fire, battle, blood, and drink... I'd give them whores, yet none of the usual camp followers accompanied us on this mission.

I'm certain you would. Regardless, I want to discuss those projectors you brought with us. They seem rather... touchy.

Fear not, my Apprentice, they will function as planned.

Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon

Ashia entered the bridge from the aft turbolift. As she stepped into view of the crew pits and command stations she noticed a lack of Dark Jedi. The last few days in hyperspace were obviously making bridge life seem fairly dull for a follower of the Dark Side. She noticed that the Admiral was on duty at least. She walked over to Araic Simonetti, as he caught sight of her he acknowledged her presence with a slight bow.

"Governor General." He said as she came and stood beside him. "I believe we have enough firepower now to deal with the might of an Imp Star deuce."

"Yes, the Kangaras Division and your own should be quite sufficient to disable and capture it." Replied the Consul. "But keep in mind that the crew is more than likely under Caerick's control, once he becomes engaged by our warriors they will be able to break free."

"You intend to board the Harbringer?" Asked Simonetti.

"If we can. They have half a day or more advance on us. If they reach Lehon and depart before we arrive we may have to engage him on the planet below." She paused as she planned out how to let the mundane admiral understand what would happen. "If that is the case, then we will have to hunt down the animal planetside. He will be able to control the minds of the crew until we can divert his attention elsewhere. Once that happens the crew will rebel against any of his cohorts that he leaves behind."

"The Viceroy did say he wanted as little damage as possible inflicted on the ship." Simonetti faced her now as he divulged his thoughts. "Would it not be prudent to then send two strike teams? One to the planet and one to the ship to ensure we capture it and that Caerick has no where to run?"

"Indeed." Replied Ashia. "We have already taken this all into consideration, Admiral, but thank you none the less for your input."

"There is one other matter, madam." Simonetti was unsure how to bring up this subject so he did what he always did, he simply said what was on his mind. "A starship has been following us since Telos. Our sensors have tagged it and it's IFF transponder code lists it as the Fallen Spear. We have attempted hailing it, but have not had any replies. How should we proceed?"

"You need not worry about them, Admiral. They are a trusted ally." Informed the Krath Epis. "The Viceroy and I will be the only ones to contact them, understood?"

"Yes ma'am, as you wish." Responded Simonetti. The two returned their attention to the functionality of the bridge crew. It was impressive watching their efficiency even at a time of calm such as this.

Overlord's private chambers
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon

Astronicus stood in his quarters, practicing his lightsaber stances. He began with the basics of Shii-Cho. He moved on to Soresu and then Niman, finally ending in Jar'Kai Niman the art form he was perfecting. The use of two lightsabers at once requires a far greater level of dedication and commitment in order to master to avoid it being more a liability to the adherent than a benefit. Astronicus had learned to use of one weapon for parrying and ripostes while the other for the attack.

Gripping the blades with the first two fingers loosely and the last two fingers and thumb tight to facilitate the swirling manner of the form, he prepared to go through the motions of Jar'Kai Niman. He squared his feet beneath his shoulders, turning his body at a slight angel from the direction of an imagined enemy, with his dominant shoulder back. Gripping his primary saber and holding it up with his arm parallel to the ground and elbow bent. His other saber, the off hand saber, he held out in front of himself at an angle to help defend against his imagined opponent.

Then like clockwork he moved into action, swirling his sabers, thrusting and stabbing at the air as he began his exercise. He would not be caught off guard or unprepared by Caerick or Vexatus, he could not allow it. He kept this up for hours, sweat pouring from his body and pooling on the ground below. Finally he disengaged his lightsabers, walked over to the nearby sink in the refresher and washed his face.

"very impressive, sir." Offered Delta-3, his personal adjutant. Captain Cresh, along with his brother Dorn who stood idly by him, had been watching the Overlord for the past few minutes. They had arrived to report on minor details they had been assigned, but were enthralled with his technique and waited for him to finish before debriefing.

"Thank you, Cresh." Replied Astronicus to the commendation. "Would you and Dorn like to spar a little?"

"If you'll take it easy on us, sir." Said Cresh in response. "You remember what happened to Dorn last time?"

"Yes, indeed I do. But don't worry, that will not happen again." Astronicus recalled the last sparring session with his advanced commandos. He had been training them in the art of saber fighting ever since their being assigned to him. It helped develop their skills as well as his own. "Last time was an anomaly, I was practicing a new technique of rage fighting, allowing it to consume me. This time will be mere sparring, we'll use training sabers."

Astronicus threw two of the toned down training sabers to Cresh and Dorn. They grabbed the sabers in mid air and activated them immediately. Astronicus once again assumed the fighting stance of Jar'Kai Niman and used the Force to levitate and pull two more training sabers to his waiting hands. Before he even ignited them the two DACs were advancing and attacking. The blades met each other as Astronicus force leaped over them and landed behind, primary saber raised high and secondary pointing at the duo. Training - his entire clan would need to be doing this now all the more so before the battles to come.

Private Training Room
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon

“What are we doing here, father?” Alector asked as Ashura had brought him here. The young man wanted to get back on the bridge and help Agrist.

“It is most likely that when we reach Lehon that you will need to defend yourself against whatever threat those two twisted Elders will throw at us.” Replied Ashura.

“I know how to fight, dad.” Alector said as he believed this was just a waste of time and energy.

“Son, you have never been in a full battle before. I don’t expect you to understand something you have never experienced first hand; your grandfather isn’t here to protect you and I can’t be everywhere at once.”

Alector frowned slightly and then looked around the room; he’d been here before. He had spent three months training with Agrist here. “So we’re going to fight?”

“Yes.”

Ashura produced two training sabers what had once been used by Journeymen before the armory lightsabers were produced.

“Here, this one is yours.” Ashura tossed the training saber to his son; Alector caught it in his left hand and activated it. The blue humming blade came to life in his hand and the boy smiled. How he liked that sound.

“Alector this is not a game… this isn’t going to be a simply sparing match. It is the reason why I chose to use training sabers. Trevarus and Vexatus would not go easy on you because you are a boy; they will kill you and because of that simple fact I wont either.”

The young Isradia was smarter than his father gave him credit for, as the boy nodded his head and said, “This is about that agoge thing your father taught you as boy, right.”

“Yes, you do understand after all.”

Ashura’s training saber came to life; the crimson humming blade rose about his head. “Now my son… defend yourself as if you life depends on it!”

Alector sensed it before it even happened, his father attacked to the right as his training saber landed against Alector’s; the boy was knocked over due to the incredible blow. His father was kidding about… this was a real battle… as real as it could get with training sabers.

The senior Battlemaster didn’t wait for the younger one to get up and stuck downwards, the Force surged through Alector as he catapulted backwards and onto his feet. The Isradias started landing blow for blow against each others sabers. The dark side of the Force pulsated through both of them; this was where Alector’s natural affinity came into play.

His father, however, was still far more experienced in lightsaber combat and mercilessly landed a blow on the boys arm; Alector howled out in pain… if that had been a real lightsaber he would have lost his arm. The training saber dropped onto the floor but Ashura didn’t stop and wait for him to pick it up.

The Force flowed through the young Isradia like a great river and allowed him to do physical feats that was nigh impossible for any average human to do. He somersaulted to the left and without thinking thrust his hands forward; Ashura was knocked off his feet and flew into the wall.

“That’s it, son. No mercy… none shall be shown to you.” Groaned Ashura as he stood up smiling; this was going to be an interesting battle after all. Alector griped the training saber tighter in his left hand as his father rushed at him. The elder Isradia brought the training saber down on his son’s and the fight continued.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
En route to Lehon

Several troopers stood clustered around a large irregularly formed crystal which had been unloaded from the Sanguinus before being positioned in what had previously been one of the tractor beam projectors' housings. The Cohort had followed Darth Vexatus’s instructions to the letter, securing the crystal vertically using several heavy duty claw arms. They had also attached a number of thick tubes carrying electrical wiring.

To the uninitiated it was surely a monstrosity, a melding of rock and metal. Were it not for the absolute loyalty of the Obsidian Cohort, Vexatus would have expected one of the technicians to inquire as to why they were hooking the Star Destroyer up to a gigantic crystal.

All would become clear in time.

The Sith Lord turned when he heard the doors slide apart, sensing his Master long before he entered the room. The Falleen said, “The teams have installed the other crystals identically to this one.”

Trevarus Caerick smiled. “Good, very good,” he replied gleefully. There was a spark of pleasure in his voice. It was all beginning to come together. The sorcerer placed a hand on the crystal, the device measuring at least five, perhaps six meters in height and at least half that in diameter. In some ways it was like a giant lightsaber crystal, although its purpose was far, far greater.

Vexatus creased his brow slightly, “They are still responding poorly,” said the Falleen dryly. “There is a danger they may overload if they draw too much power.”

The sorcerer did not seem to listen. His hand stroked the device almost as if it was a child. Perhaps in his mind it kind of was, he had shaped it from its birth into the form it was today. Finally Trevarus said, “Do not let the sensors deceive you, my apprentice. It will function as planned. Have faith.”

“In you?” Vexatus snorted. “I would sooner not get myself killed.”

Trevarus laughed. “Of course, my apprentice, of course. I would expect no less.”

Despite the light heartedness of their exchange there was a seriousness beneath the surface that only the pair themselves would have noticed. To their credit, the Cohort continued their work diligently, not so much as casting Master or apprentice a glance while they finished the final preparations of installing the crystal amplifier.

“What of the hyperdrive leak?” the sorcerer asked going quiet.

Vexatus glanced around as if making sure nobody was watching them. “The team I sent out from Beta reported in with nothing. The team from Gamma is still searching. Last time they reported in they said they think whoever it is is operating alone.”

Trevarus cursed. “I want them found,” he said slowly, looking more angry at himself than whoever was onboard the ship. “It is infuriating to be unable to locate them while I maintain my hold on the rest of the crew.”

“I could hunt him down myself,” whispered Vexatus, making sure not even the nearby members of the Cohort could hear.

Trevarus shook his head. “No, one spy is not worth either of our time,” the sorcerer said dismissively. “There is nothing they can do anyway. It is too late. The Clan cannot stop us now.”

Vexatus nodded. “As you will, my Master.”

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
En route to Lehon

The red haired spy continued to play her part of the bridge. She looked liked the rest of the bridge officers as they went about doing there job. However a bead of sweat was running down her face; it wasn’t she was nervous but due to the internal battle going on within her.

Her resolve was breaking down, and Sakura was using more and more will power to stop the Krath Master’s hold from breaking into the private sanctum of her mind; her mental barriers were slowly crumbling against his telepathic might.

The woman’s fight-or-flight response ignited; neurons in the locus ceruleus screamed and Sakura responded accordingly. Her heart pounded faster in her chest and her rate of breathing accelerated, her pupils grew wide and tears started rolling down her cheeks. Everything was growing dizzy.

Sakura took a step back and her head spun around the room; the zombie crew looked at her with passionless eyes. She would not turn into one of them and stumbled towards the turbolift. The Dark Jedi punching in the buttons to take her to the deck the danger was on; tears blurred her vision.

The turbolift opened and she stumbled out and fought to keep herself standing and moving, using the wall to balance herself. Her mental barrier was breaking down and she let out a scream of defiance. The corridor was spinning and spinning, and spinning, and whack! Someone had hit the back of her head with something hard.

The woman fell to the floor, her hot breath panting against the cold metal floor. She felt herself dragged onto her feet as two sets of power arms which held her own arms firmly. She let out a small moan and looked up. The men who held her appeared to be soldiers, but they were not part of the Harbinger’s crew.

Sakura was dragged back into the turbolift. The woman couldn’t tell where they were going as her head was killing her; moving it simply made it worse. The short trip ended and she dragged out and carried for a short distant. The distinctive sound of an intergation cell opening was heard and the Sakura was carried in. The soldiers dropped her on the floor; she curled into the fetal position and let out a string of swears about the soldiers being related to a Hutts mother as the cell closed.

A message came across for Trevarus, “My lord, we have her… we have the spy.”

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
En route to Lehon

The red haired woman was dragged into the brig kicking and screaming by a pair of muscular members of the Obsidian Cohort. Sakura clawed uselessly at their black armor as they pushed her into place and cuffed her wrists and ankles, rendering her unable to move. Sakura screamed when the harness she was secured to lowered then stopped with a jolt, leaving her uncomfortably laying on her back.

Sakura was unable to raise her head to look around when she heard the door hiss open. She felt the room suddenly become cold, sending a chill up her spine as the table itself seemed to ice over.

“So you are the one who has been causing all this trouble,” said a cold male voice. “Impressive.”

Sakura writhed in her shackles. “I’m not talking!”

The figure chuckled. “Is that so? I can make you beg for death.”

Sakura looked up as the dark robed figure moved into view, his horrifically scarred face causing her to flinch a little. “Commander Zorrixor,” she breathed, recognising the face. Anger began to rip up her insides. “Traitor!”

Vexatus snorted another laugh. “That name no longer has any meaning for me, girl. Tell me, did you really believe your actions would serve any purpose other than your own death?”

Sakura spat at the Sith Lord. “You’re a monster.”

There was a flash of madness in the Falleen’s eyes. “I am only what the galaxy has made me,” he stated bluntly. “My Master and I merely seek to forge a better world, one where stupid little girls like you do as you are told. You people don't deserve free will. You need us.”

Sakura realised she was talking to a madman. He actually believed what he was saying. “You won’t get away with this!” she proclaimed, though her own resolve was beginning to falter.

Vexatus smiled darkly. “Why, my dear, we already have," he said, gesturing as if to take in the rest of the ship and its crew. "Look around you, look at the peace we have already brought. We have given these people freedom from the pain of being alive. They no longer need worry. We worry for them. Their pain is ours."

"Peace?" coughed Sakura, the word literally getting caught in her throat as a heady aroma swept through the chamber. Sakura bit down on her lip drawing blood, refusing to allow herself to be seduced by the Falleen's lies. "They're slaves! You're insane!"

That seemed to actually strike a nerve. Sakura’s eyes opened wide at the lightning beginning to form around the Falleen’s fingertips. "I do not expect a mere mundane such as you to understand," growled Vexatus. "There is nothing anymore... nothing but my Master and I. We are all that matter in the universe now; you exist only to serve our will."

“Someone will stop you!” cried Sakura in vain, knowing there was nothing she could do.

The Falleen laughed. "Who did you ever think could have possibly stood in our way?" he hissed.

When Vexatus grabbed hold of her abdomen and squeezed with his clawed fingers she did not realise when he drew blood, for the white had already consumed her vision. Sakura did not even hear her own screams before suddenly all went black and then there was nothing at all as she passed out.

“Lock her in a cell,” ordered Vexatus. “She may be of use to us later.”

Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon

Tsainetomo, having since replaced the Senior Comm Officer at his station, peered over his steepled fingers at the array’s viewscreen. In truth, he half-heartedly monitored the various blips and readouts, his mind preoccupied with events that transpired not long ago.

He, along with the Grand Master Emeritus Paladin and the Overlord himself, had dealt in an eldritch rite in which Macron was exercised of the Alchemist’s own Dark Side-born ghost; that of Darth Malak himself.

Whether it was from the rite in itself or from the names involved, the Priest had no vivid recollection of the events; the dearth of detail was maddening to him, as all he could recall were a jumble of images, like that of the Alchemist thrashing about on a table and his metal fangs gnashing, and the coppery taste in the back of his mouth that came with prolonged Force usage, but none of the incantations. No doubt, his mind had been unceremoniously wiped.

Worse still, he could sense the new portions of the Dark Side that he’d accessed hanging tantalizing just out of his reach, like a gourd of water to a parched traveler. With grave finality, he realized that he was only used as a battery of sorts, a go-between for Paladin and Astronicus in case the energies involved became too much for them to safely handle. Had the rite gone awry, he would’ve been burnt out and cast aside, and only for Macron to be able to be better used as a ‘bloodhound’ to track down the traitors.

Still, any feelings of betrayal were tamped down; not extinguished, mind you, as they simmered in his being as coals waiting for a strong breeze to fan them back into a blaze, but tamped down nonetheless. The Rollmaster was given a glimpse into a window of nigh-limitless power, and he wanted more. In a corner of his mind, he actually allowed for an unheard of emotion to be expressed when it came to the machinations of Caerick and Vexatus, at least, among the Final Way’s corridors.

That emotion was understanding.

Let the others practice with ‘sabers and fret incessantly over their weapons and ships. It was doubtful any of them would actually get a personal shot at the traitors, anyway, and Tsainetomo was supremely confident in his own ‘saberwork, all things being considered. True power to deal death, he came to understand, came from planning, from opportunity and the ability to take advantage of circumstance. Even now, the Rollmaster mused, any number of decks onboard the RSD could be surreptitiously vented by a miskeyed command from the safety of the bridge, and thousands dead could result from a simple push of a button.

Begrudgingly, Tsainetomo allowed for the Narcissist’s and the Sorcerer’s brilliance, and for their willingness to do what others weren’t. They weren’t as crazy as everyone was duped to believe. The plans to do away with them would need to be airtight, indeed.

Still, he was shocked to find that his hands had strayed from their steepled position and had been poised to execute the very command to vent atmosphere he’d allowed his mind to toy with. The priest quickly cleared his screen and got back to his vigil.

Power. An intoxicating drug, to be sure.

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon

Agrist was puzzled. He sat at his terminal in the Commisaars office studying camera logs. "Any sign yet?" Alector asked, putting the glass down on the desk. Agrist took it and drained the glass. Alector sipped at his own.
"No," he replied, "we can see them entering the turbolift on the guest deck, and the shot inside the lift of them leaving but no exit point."
"Where could they have exited without being seen?"
Agrist clicked a button and a map of the ship appeared, and he honed it in on a section. "This area here is closed for maintainance, five levels."
"Low priority storage," Alector said thoughtfully. "No camera's there?"
"They've been shut off for the maintainence routine. It's an automated process." Agrist replied.
"So we search there?" Alector replied.
"It's a big area." the mercenary told him.
"We can have the crew search, take no time at all," Alector suggested.
"It will also put everyone on alert," Agrist replied.
"So what then?" Alector asked.
"We use droids then wipe their memories. If he's down there somewhere they'll find him."

Several boring hours later, Agrist eased the top of the crate off and looked inside.
"Is it him?" Alector asked.
Agrist nodded. "Yes."
"Is he dead?" the young man asked.
The mercenary nodded. "Very, signs of bruising, and a lightsaber strike to the heart."
"At least he probably didn't suffer much." Alector commented. "So this gives you proof?"
"Maybe." Agrist replied.

"Looking for something?"
Agrist and Alector spun around to see a figure framed in the doorway. Malisane de Ath strode into the room. Alector glanced at Agrist but didn't say anything, then looked down as a large black shape padded into the room, He'd heard about this creature. Gmork the hound, quick, powerful, razor sharp teeth and claws. Rumour had it Gmork had killed Vong, Ssi-ruuvi, droids, and on one occasion ripped the leg of a rogue jedi master. The young man watched the hound like a hawk while the two Battlelords regarded each other.
"We found something," Agrist said calmly, studying the other Battlelords face. He indicated the crate, and Malisane walked over and glanced in curiously.
"Anything you'd like to tell me?" Agrist asked.

ISD-II Harbinger
Central Engineering
One day from Lehon


"Kerahu na!" Trevarus shouted.

It had taken his technicians the better part five days to finish the installation. It was flawless. Trevarus had spent the last twenty four hours reviewing every detail of the intricate network, probing it even greater attention than required to construct a new lightsaber. The schematics had been copied nearly word for word and line for line out of an ancient manuscript he had looted in the Library of Satal Keto so many years ago. Of course, he had turned the Holocron created by the same man over to Lord Cotelin... yet he suspected the holocron was only a record of the texts he had carted off. The necessity of some of their knowledge was stowed away in some part of his memory.

Until he realized it would be useful, when he and Vexatus had first began scheming their escape after the Battle of Tarthos.

His eyes focused on the small, yet exceptionally intricate array of six crystals, and wire traceries, bundles of filaments that suspended a seventh crystal, glowing deeply crimson black. It was an exceptionally rare variant of the Obtene crystals he was famous for creating. He called it a Sanguinus crystal. He had crystallized a certain kind of blood in a furnace of his own design, speaking the necessary incantations to give it properties even more unholy than those of his lightsabers. It was a true work of art. Now, in its lattice... the performance would be exceptional.

"Flarinera ker lenik, jeran sine Terna ehi kormani. Doloran kar jenirah. Doloran kar yertik."

Trevarus placed his hands over the crystal, his eyes closed as his head leaned back. He began to shout.

"KERIAH JAR TERAKAH! KERIAH JAR UTARA! KERIAH JAR WENIDITI!"

He sliced his left hand open across the paln, and squeezed a fistfull of blood over the crystal. As the drops fell, they seemed to swirl around the crystal, floating in space as if in orbit. Faster then spun, until a blur of swirling black-crimson. The crystal began to draw them in, as Trevrus unleashed a flood of lightning into his creation. His rage flared into the Sanguinus Crystal, tracing along interconnecting wires. Each of the six surrounding crystals began to shine violet-blue. Tendrils of crackling electricity roared through even larger wires that lead deeper into the vessel. The central blood-red crystal was shining with such intensity, it was painful to observe directly. Slowly, its light faded slightly and it began to pulse as if a beating heart.

Trevarus panted slightly, his eyes glowing fiendishly violet, a slight trickle of blood flowed out of the Mark, down along side his nose. Blood still dripped from his left hand.

"Kerahu sin." The Sorcerer finally said.

Vexatus had watched the ritual with fascination. The crystal his Master had placed in the center of the matrix was unknown to him. How he had used blood and rage to empower it was a sorcerous art he did not understand. He realized that depiste his own Mark, there was so little he knew about the true nature of the Sorcerer's knowledge. There was much left to learn.

And I shall plunder his archives, as has he those of generations long decayed.

Although, even the dialect of Sith Trevarus had spoken was unknown to him... he had understood perhaps five words of the incantation. This unsettled him even more.

How does he speak a language lost to even the Sith?

Trevarus composed himself, smiling faintly with his sharp white teeth as he studied the emotions of his Apprentice. So adept the Falleen was at masking his feelings... yet nothing is hidden from the Lord of the Marked.

So much to learn, so much to unlearn, Trevarus thought.

"The apparatus will function as directed my Apprentice. It ought to buy us some additional time."

"If you say so." Vexatus said, uncommittedly

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Lehon

Watching intently as the Star Destroyer reverted from hyperspace, the two Dark Jedi Masters stared transfixed out the main viewscreen of the mammoth warship. Nobody spoke a word when the lost star system of the ancient Rakata appeared, the silent order from Trevarus Caerick making clear he did not need to be told they had arrived. As if the sorcerer would have needed to be informed, Lehon had been pressing upon his mind for several hours, its call growing louder and louder until it was now a thunderous roar in his ears.

Welcome home, it said. Welcome to the seat of your New Empire.

This was quite literally the very birthplace of the dark side.

Trevarus keyed the viewscreen to maximum magnification. Lehon itself hung in the distance in orbit of the sun. There was wreckage littering the system, vast chunks of twisted durasteel the size of gigantic asteroids or small moons. The sorcerer surmised he must have been looking at the remains of the Star Forge; such a pity the traitorous Darth Revan had destroyed it.

Eosara interrupted the sorcerer’s thoughts. “Lord Caerick, the wreckage may make navigation difficult for a ship the size of the Harbinger. Shall I ready the Sanguinus instead?”

Trevarus considered it then nodded. “Inform Zeta Cabal. I intend to take no chances.”

The immense majordomo saluted, an act quite out of character for Eosara, then marched off.

The three red lights reflecting on the viewscreen became two red lights. Darth Vexatus’s gaze remained fixed on the image before them, keying the viewscreen to medium magnification to take in the rest of the system. The wreckage of the Star Forge had drifted far. It was faintly reminiscent of Antei in a way. No doubt a reason its secrets had remained hidden.

Vexatus finally turned to look at his Master, “Your crystals had better work.”

Trevarus smiled faintly, his eyes brimming with anticipation. “Have faith, my apprentice,” the sorcerer said mockingly. He closed his eyes, only the Mark fluttering open. It seemed to burn with an intensity Vexatus had never seen before. Perhaps it was all part of whatever eldritch rite Trevarus had performed on the projectors. Or perhaps it was something more. Regardless, the Sith Lord turned his attention to the viewscreen again.

The faint shadow of a space slug began to form before the bridge of the Harbinger. It began as little more than a ghost before it became clearer, gradually becoming more and more opaque before finally expanding into a gigantic exogorth. Vexatus watched in mild fascination as the magics of the crystalline projectors installed in place of the tractor beams took form, slowly becoming real.

“Impressive,” said Vexatus dryly. The projectors had worked as planned after all. He was not so much surprised as rubbing in his annoyance at the fact there were still secrets his Master had kept from him. No matter. He could learn what he needed from the sorcerer’s holocron long after he was gone. “But fancy illusions aside, will they hold the Clan?”

Trevarus laughed passionately. This was the first time he had attempted something on quite this scale before. “How about we try a demonstration?” he said enthusiastically, eyeing the exogorth as if it was a long lost child. The sorcerer always had had a strange attachment to his creations.

Vexatus waited for Trevarus to do something but instead stumbled back when the exogorth suddenly rammed the main viewscreen, the impact genuinely shaking the ship. The Falleen uttered a curse before composing himself. The sorcerer was grinning at him. “Alright. You’ve proved your point,” the Falleen spat. “Your phantoms will do their job.”

Kaelin Ring woke up in the darkness of some cargo hold. He'd experienced this several times in the past year. After his disappearance following the Vong fiasco, Kaelin had visited many worlds... if only to drink. He wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten to wherever he was, but that was of no consequence to the giant Togorian. The Force, weak as his connection was, had lead him here and here he would stay, for the time being.

He felt out with the Force and was surprised at what he found. He was home… In a sense at least. It had been awhile since he’d last felt the aura of Malisane and the others. The last he’d seen of the clan’s fleet, though, left him quite sure this was a newer ship.

Might as well get out of here, he thought. Tediously he rose to his elbows, wincing at the inevitable hangover. Maybe I can find some one to explain what the hell is going on… the short of it at least.

RSD Final Way


Xander walked down the corridor staring down at a data pad as he walked along, his astromech droid trailing behind him as he walked along. His boots clicked along the metal flooring of the corridor in a rhythmic fashion as he appeared to be muttering to himself about various things. Fairly few people took notice of Xander as he appeared to be dressed in a plain navy blue Dlarit military uniform. As he walked along he occasionally would dictate to the Astromech droid following him, continuously writing down notes and sending out messages as he walked, for all intents and purposes appearing to be little more than a minor bureaucrat doing his job.

Xander was not in fact a bureaucrat of any sort, while hardly the strongest with the force or the blade he was definitely skilled for a journeyman and a number of people had felt the bite of his blade when the time called upon it. Yet, at the same time Xander rarely felt the need to show off his rank, or his ability to those he considered lesser than himself. Much preferring to go by unnoticed without having to worry about the pomp and circumstance of his position he would often act as a minor politician, or a bureaucrat. His body language taking on the posture and style of such an individual, with the help of a few small props for his disguises.

As he approached his target destination a securety trouper jumped out in front of him blocking his path. Charged with a seeming sense of authority the soldier shouted at Xander

“Halt, this is a restricted area.” the contempt for what he thought was a small bureaucratic underling ringing in the mans voice.

Suddenly the man was picked up and slammed against a bulk head as if thrown by an invisible hand. He slid down to the ground blood oozing down from his head which had been abruptly slammed against the wall.

“Get out of my way” Xander said calmly, his voice completely flat, giving his words the same enthusiasm as if he were ordering breakfast.

A higher ranking officer appeared and cursed looking up at Xander and coming to attention saluting.

“My apologies Commander, he is new and did not recognize you.” The officer said stiffly

Xander nodded at the officer. “See that it does not happen again.” He said and continued to the path. He continued down the path doing his work, he reached his destination, a large door stood in front of him. He handed the pad, and his small props to Angel he stored them for him. His posture changed from that of the small underline to a his normal self.

“Wait for me here Angel”

Knocking on the door he waited to be beckoned

“Enter” rang an ominous voice

Xander entered the room and dropped to one knee “What is your bidding my master?” he said kneeling in front of the man known as the Abomination of Kyataru

CR90 Corvette Sanguinus
Lehon

Once Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus had boarded the corvette Christine Zara had swiftly guided them out of the Star Destroyer, making their way through the swarm of phantom exogorths. The ship was heaving with soldiers from Zeta Cabal. Vexatus could only imagine what it must have been like with the entire Obsidian Cohort onboard prior to docking with the Harbinger and unloading the rest to fully take control of the ship.

The corvette streaked towards Lehon, weaving its way through the cluttered star system, full of unrecognizable debris and wreckage thousands of years old, much of it little more than chunks of molten metal, fused together from the explosive blast of the Star Forge’s detonation. It was clear Republics and Empires alike had neglected this system. Perhaps a footnote about it still existed somewhere in the vast archives on Coruscant, but few would remember, if, indeed, the records had not been lost or forgotten over the centuries. Or deliberately erased.

As the Sanguinus neared the planet itself Vexatus gazed out upon the rings that orbited Lehon. Though they were made up of little more than debris, they still lent the planet a quiet beauty, quite unlike the desolate appearance of Korriban or Antei. The Falleen felt it reminded him of Ziost more than anything. Eventually Christine was forced to pass control over to Trevarus, leaving him to meticulously plot a course through the rings circling Lehon, using the Mark to carefully navigate through what was little more than a kind of stellar obstacle course.

It took nearly an hour of careful navigation, but eventually the Sanguinus made it through the rings encircling Lehon to the inner atmosphere. The corvette shot through the atmosphere, passing through the clouds with ease as it descended through the outer stratosphere into the troposphere.

Christine had taken over the last leg of the journey. Trevarus and Vexatus gazed out through the main viewport upon the patchwork of small tropical islands arrayed beneath them and the bright blue ocean that spanned most of the globe. It could almost have been a holiday resort had it not once been the capital of the Infinite Empire of the now extinct Rakata. The islands were almost completely covered in thick, lush jungle. There was nowhere obvious to land the Sanguinus but for the crystal sand beaches on the islands’ edges.

“Where do you wish me to set down, Lord Caerick?” asked Christine. Once upon a time she would have been the first to simply call the sorcerer by his first name, but now even her will was slave to his. The knowledge brought a glimmer of satisfaction to Trevarus’s face. He was looking at the future of the universe, where his will was everything. That was true power.

Finally Trevarus answered, his eyes closed in deep meditation as he focused his mind through the glowing violet Mark on his forehead, reaching out for the island that held the resting place of the Heart of the Force. It did not take long to find. “There,” answered the sorcerer simply, his finger resting on the navicomputer screen, pointing to the exact spot where he wished to land.

Christine nodded an acknowledgement and banked the Sanguinus around to head in to what was the largest island. The jungle there was particularly overgrown, only the ruins of what appeared to have once been a large, white temple showing through the tops of some of the trees. As the Sanguinus drew closer to their destination the light began to grow murkier and Christine began to find herself struggling to maintain their heading. It was not that there was any turbulence, merely a sensation quickly spreading through her body; a mix of hesitation, reservation, doubt and... fear.

Trevarus must have noticed the woman’s discomfort. “Do not be afraid, Captain,” the sorcerer said reassuringly, his voice brimming with confidence and an unrestrained sense of anticipation. “This is where the eternal battle finally ends. Rejoice, for a new day dawns. The Via Finitas approaches.”

RSD Final Way
Space, the final frontier.

"Well I'm not a doctor but I'd say he's dead," Malisane said calmly. "Lightsaber blow by the looks of it, neat job. Did either of you see anything?"
Agrist studied the other Battlelord. "No," he replied, "you don't know anything?" His eyes bore into Malisane's face.
"Well I noticed he hadn't returned," Malisane said, looking right back at Agrist calmly, "I thought I'd bring Gmork here and see if he could sniff him out."
"You knew Imgormiel was down here?" Agrist asked curiously, not believing any of it but not wanting a confrontation yet.
"Yes, he said he was looking for some supplies, no idea what of but I gave him directions."
"And now he's dead." Agrist added.
"Indeed," Malisane said, "a great loss to the Clan, and myself personally. He was a worthy student and had a great future ahead of him."
Alector hadn't said anything yet. He coughed, looking from one to the other. "Well at least we don't need to spend any more time looking for him," he said quietly, "we just need to find a culprit."
"Unless it's a sophisticated suicide," Malisane replied.
Agrist gave him a foul look. "This is hardly a time for humour De Ath."
"True, please accept my apologies," Malisane said meaning none of it, "if you need my help let me know. I suspect there's a connection to our errant Elders, maybe sympathisier. I'll leave it to your abilities to find him Agrist. Good luck." He turned and left the room.
Alector glanced at Agrist. "Do you still think he killed Imgormiel."
"Of course he damn well did," Agrist replied, "however he's slippery enough to get out of it unless we can trap him somehow. Come on I'll send forensics down here, and someone to dispose of the body."

Training area
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon


“Frell you, Krath bastard!”

A resounding slam and curse echoed through the room as armor impacted the wall inside. Outside, a bridge commander looked nervously at the security trooper stationed beside the door. “You are sure they are in there, sergeant?”

“Yes sir,” replied the trooper. “Both of them. However, they did say that disturbing them wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“I see. Well, we revert in less than an hour, and the Viceroy wants them both ready to do their details,” mused the commander. “I have my orders. Open the door.”

“Yes sir,” said the trooper with a frown as he reached for the controls. The door slid open with a whoosh, showing the contorted faces of two Dark Jedi locked in a brutal lightsaber combat. Two of the best saberists in the Clan were training- and training hard. Both had scores to settle, and wanted to be on top of their game in the coming conflict.

Macron ducked the Vaapad jun ma slice that Shin’Ichi threw, flashing his own blade on and off in a characteristic Trakata stab. Shin’Ichi side stepped it, his breath sounding odd through the vocabulator. Both looked at the open door, eyes narrowing in irritation as they held their sabers before them.

What is it? Asked the jawless Abomination.

“Marshall Commander Shin'ichi," said the naval officer with a crisp salute. "Marshall Commander Macron, your presence on the bridge is requested by the Overlord. We revert in less than an hour. He is expecting combat at that time,” stated the commander flatly.

Macron laughed as the two shut off their sabers. “Good to spar with you again, Shin. Duty calls,” he mumbled as he wiped the sweat from his yellow eyes.

Give them Hell, came the eerie reply. Show no mercy.

Macron nodded. “I never do cousin,” he responded as he walked off with the commander.

Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Hyperspace, en route to fabled Lehon

Macron walked in the bridge door, and made for the weapons command seat. “I am ready,” he whispered softly as he sat down.
“Initiating systems check.”

“Good, everything is in place. We begin the flight checks now,” ordered Astronicus as he gestured to Tsainetomo. “We’ll be at Lehon soon, and in a hot firefight not long after we revert. Take us to general quarters.”

CIC, Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Fabled planet of Lehon

"Attention all hands, assume General Quarters. Pilots report to your starfighters. Set condition one throughout the ship." Issued Tsainetomo over the shipwide intercom. Turning toward Astronicus he reported, "Sire, the ship is at General Quarters. The fleet has reverted to realspace. The Kangaras Division and Lord Muz will be arriving shortly."

"Thank you, Commander." Offered Astronicus. "Have the fleet assume defensive positions. Prepare to launch fighters on my command."

The bridge was a hustle of activity as members throughout the Combat Information Center, the tactical center of the warship. Tsainemoto was reviewing incoming reports from the sensors station. Macron was prepping the weapons board, recieving reports from the turret crews throughout the Final Way. There was not one member of the crew standing idle during this time. The holo-table in the CIC showed the entire Special Operations Group Division. Looking at it one could see the Despot assumed a flanking position on the port side, while the Turmoil assumed a similar holding position on the starboard side. The Heretic Sun could be seen stationed at the stern of the warship, it's gravity-well generators coming on-line.

"The fleet is in attack formation, sire." Reported Tsainetomo.

"Hold here." Ordered the Viceroy. "Launch all fighter squadrons. Inform the ground troops to be ready for launch. The battle is about to begin ladies and gentlemen."

Hallway enroute to Port Hanger Deck
RSD Final Way
On Approach to The Fabled Planet Lehon

Anticipation crackled in the air electrifying the senses of the Abomination, his bestial nature raking at his insides, screaming in his brain to be released that he may visit horror upon the enemy and any unlucky friendlies that happen to get in his way. The comlink in his hand, as unnecessary as it was, connected him with his apprentices and that of his Prime. His artificial voice made more so by the crackle of the transmission.

Fenris, Xander, Nassin, Vorion you will report to the Port Hanger Deck and engage in the impending battle. Tsingtao, Joseem, Zillah you will make ready for planetfall. I will join you topside once the space battle is over.

He gave none of them time to argue, to acknowledge, or to otherwise speak. He moved with purpose towards the hanger and his Kiba Class Starfighter. His mind touching that of his Prime Apprentice Tsainetomo, he sensed the abstract wanderings in the back of Sai’s mind as his higher mind focused on the task at hand, and he sent his thoughts to the Korun Keibatsu.

Soon Apprentice.

Command Information Center - Bridge
RSD Final Way
On Approach to The Fabled Planet Lehon

Those two words calmed the Priest and focused his mind. Tsainetomo smiled to himself as his hands raced across the console calling the ship to order and coordinating the fleet movements with the Command Information Centers of the other vessels. The ebon skinned Dark Jedi knew what power lay in store for him and his master, and if others needed to be sacrificed to make that realization so…then so be it, a true follower of the Final Way was not afraid of sacrifice personal or otherwise.


Port Hanger Deck
RSD Final Way
On Approach to The Fabled Planet Lehon

Fenris came scrambling into the hanger with Nassin. In stark contrast to their frenzied behavior Xander calmly entered the hanger and approached a starfighter addressing the crew chief and notifying him that the craft now belonged to the Knight. Fenris and Nassin raced to the first craft they saw and force leapt into the cockpits bypassing the pilot’s ladders. Shin’ichi watched from his own cockpit and couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Xander, an Aedile of his House and despite his Warrior’s heart a consummate noble and born politician, Fenris and Nassin one newly vested to the Knighthood and the other well on his way were excited and eager for combat. Rage poured from Fenris feeding his excitement and fueling the collective exhilaration of everyone in the hanger, Nassin was elated to be in his first real engagement. If they survived, the Pontifex would have great plans for all three of them.

Everywhere alarms sounded and lights flashed. The entire clan was on high alert, and the Deputy Grand Master was enroute. Shin’ichi bathed in the Dark Power that permeated the vessel and basked in the anticipation of battle finally crying havoc and letting slip the Abomination.

OOC: I didnt wait for Shin to finish as its late and I wanted to get this posted as I am just about to head to bed. Sorry.

Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger
Lehon

Despite ending up in a detention cell, Sakura still had an advantage which the Sith Lord overlooked; he had called her a mundane as if to think she wasn’t a Force user. The woman pressed her hands against the cell door. The two elders had left the Star Destroyer; she didn’t need to worry about them for now.

Sakura reached out with her mind and used telekinesis to feel around for the locking mechanism. Once she found it she merely pushed it into the open position and the door opened. It was time to give them hell.

The woman ran out and using her incredible dexterity landed a series of attacks on the guards, she took one of the blasters and shot the officer standing next to the control panel before he could sound the alarm.

She then felt it as it pricked at her mind; it was her Master’s presence. He was here in the system and a wave of hope washed over her. The Equite level Dark Jedi head off to collect her gear as she was going to need it.

Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Lehon

Ashura gritted his teeth as couldn’t sense anyone aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer, but when the Final Way was fired upon… he knew there had to be people over there.

Master!

Ashura gasped slightly.

Sakura… You’ve still alive over there. What happened?

Not good… I’m in a little bit of trouble over here…

Ashura pushed past an officer who was shouting orders. He realised he needed to get over there.

Hang tight, my disciple… I’m on my way.

The Sith Battlemaster ran off the bridge and headed towards the hanger.

“Unauthorized fighter launched,” said an officer five minutes later, “Its Governor Isradia.”

Ashia didn’t look very pleased at all. “Spast! Patch me through to him.” The officer nodded. “Ashura, what the kreff do you think your doing?”

“I’m still the Harbinger’s Commissar, Consul. It’s my job to punish those who would mutiny…regardless the how and why… the Harbinger did just open fire on us.” The Sith then cut communications; it was a good enough excuse as any as he flew in his fighter.

Sakura… I need you to bring down the shield for the hanger… I’m coming in hot!

Yes Master.

Meanwhile Alector heard the General Quarters call and looked at Agrist as they walked out of a turbolift; despite a space battle about to take place a murder had been committed. “So how are we going to stop Battlelord de Ath? He can’t be allowed to get away with it.”

“He wont, trust me on that Alector. We’ll let forensics do there job, hopefully they will give us something to place him at the scene.”

“And if they don’t?” The young man asked.

“There is an old saying: there is more than one way to skin a cat…” Agrist said cryptically leaving Alector a little confused.

Combat Information Center, Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Battle of Lehon

"Sithspawn!" Cursed a voice over the open comm lines of the starfighter squadrons that was relayed to the CIC. "What the frak are those things?"

"Cut the chatter Blood Three." Ordered the voice of the Blood Heralds squadron commander. Switching to the command frequency his voice became somewhat clearer as he now addressed the Final Way. "Command this is Blood One, do we have intel on these space slugs? Request orders of engagement. Over."

Astronicus stood leaning forward on the holo-table watching as his fighters closed in on the Harbringer and it's exogorths. It would only be moments until the Final Way was within firing range of them and the Imp Star Deuce, yet traversing the debris field was proving a bit tedious. The Vibre-class corvettes were having an easier time, though still having some of the same perils.

"Affirmative on the engagement, Blood One." Responded Astronicus. He couldn't tell where these space slugs had come from, but no doubt they were under the control of Trevarus Caerick. "We will relay intel momentarily. Way Actual, out." Turning on his heels and heading back towards the main compartment of the bridge the Viceroy walked over to the sensors station. "Tsainetomo, tell me you have some sort of reading on those beasts out there."

"I wish I could Lord Sadow. Unfortunately our sensors are having a hard time pinning anything down. It could be the debris field has something within it that is disrupting our sensors." Replied the Prefect of Sadow Palace.

Astronicus weighed the matter over carefully. If he diverted his starfighter forces away from the Harbringer it would limit his chances of taking the ship intact. No, the exogorths could be dealt with afterwards, he needed to cripple the warship to secure their hold on the system so that their ground forces could land.

"Open a channel to the fleet and all starfighter squadrons." Ordered Astronicus. With a few strokes of his hand Tsainetomo completed the task and gave the Viceroy a signal informing him he had done it. "Attention all vessels, this is the Viceroy speaking. All ships are to target the Harbrigner. This is the primary target. Do not engage the exogorths, we shall deal with them later, focus all energy on the warship using whatever means necessary to disable it."

Walking over to the weapons station he approached Macron. "Mac, I want all ion cannons targeting that ship. Hit it wherever you have to but I want it dead in space."

"With pleasure." Cackled the alchemist.

Vibre-class corvette Turmoil
Battle of Lehon

Lieutenant Rem Bachtan, commander of the Turmoil sat in his command chair, waiting for the order from the Viceroy to open fire. His ship was outfitted with four Heavy Ion Cannons and four Light Turbolasers. They would keep the Harbringer's fighters occupied while laying down suppressive ion blasts at the capital ship itself. They were almost within firing range now.

"Sir, one of those space slugs is coming straight at us." Reported Bachtan's executive officer. "Weapons cannot get a lock on it."

"Evasive action." Ordered the Lieutenant. "Those things are going to be more maneuverable than us, but I don't want to sit still while it chews on us. Train the turbolasers on it. Shoot from the hip if you have to."

Hanger Bay
RSD Final Way
Lehon Space

“All pilots to there ships,” yelled over the speaker. Tsingtao made his way to the Hanger Bay where the rest of the Sapphire Squadron was stationed. Tsingtao was about to climb aboard his ship when his comm link alerted him of an incoming message.

“Fenris, Xander, Nassin, Vorion you will report to the Port Hanger Deck and engage in the impending battle. Tsingtao, Joseem, Zillah you will make ready for planetfall. I will join you topside once the space battle is over,” a metallic voice boomed over the comm.

Tsingtao was furious that he was not going to battle in space. He jumped out of his ship and threw his helmet to a flight crew. Disgusted, Tsingtao hurried back to his quarters to change into his combat gear. After he changed, Tsingtao made his way to the LAAT hanger bay. Tsingtao met up with Zerek upon reaching the ship. “Is everything in order?”

“Yes, sir Commander Ming. The ship is loaded and ready to launch. Krill and Thesh are at the side guns.” Zerek responded. “Shen has control of the rear gun.”

“Excellent, Captain. We embark for the planet Lehon once the signal is given. Our mission is to secure a landing zone for the rest of the team.”

Temple of the Ancients
Courtyard
Lehon


Both men felt the ship shudder for a moment as it settled down on a sandy beach-head. Its repulsor drives kicking in as its landing gear supported the vessel on the soft ground. Trevarus nodded his head, and Praefect Heletsu saluted. Inaudibly, he issued commands through the network of Zeta Cabal, and the troopers marched from the ship, breaking into their respective units. The pair waited a moment, watching Trev's soldiers depart.

"Anticipation, my Apprentice. Savor it, let it temper your lust."

"You cannot deny the lust brewing in your own heart, my Master. However dead it may be." Vexatus replied.

Almost jubiliant... the Master began to laugh. "Two decades I have sought this end. And here, now... the conclusion of all my travels. I will succeed where the Sith have failed. There is no Empire... there is only Will. There is no rule... there is only Obedience... there is no freedom, only chaos. There is no Chaos... only Will."

"Even at the end, you speak naught but riddles."

"Nevermore, my Apprentice." Trevarus chuckled, amused at his own allusion. "Let's go."

The pair walked through the corridors of the Corvette, until the salty-sweet air of Lehon mingled with that of the ship. Breaking into the bright daylight, they walked down the ramp.

Trevarus bent over, and pulled a handfull of sand. "The very soil is tinged with the hatred of a thousand million beings. So many nameless billions died for this world. So many lives shattered. It is more exotic than the finest wine that has ever passed my lips."


RSD Final Way
CIC-Bridge
Orbiting Lehon



Lances of red and blue fire roared between the Sadowite Fleet and the lone Imperial-II class Destroyer. Men scuttled about the bridge, responding to orders from the Viceroy, or Admiral Simonetti in turn. They would make short work of this battle, then make a run to the surface to destroy the errant Elders.

Astronicus watched the battle with detached fervor. They had stolen one of his ships, raped the mind of its crew, his loyal employees. That was not freedom... men forced to serve without question. He thought about the men who might die in the course of this fight, and the image enraged him. Comrades forced to battle for the arrogance of two men.

"Sensors indicate dorsal shields at 25%, redirecting primary fire to target power-plant and sensor systems. We'll cripple the ship with minimal damage" Simonetti said.

"Strange that it has not launched fighters." Tron said evenly. "Carry on."

"Sir, at the time of the hijacking, the Harbinger carried no starfighters."

"Fortunate for us then." The Overlord replied.

"Oh shavit!" a voice shouted from somewhere. Astronicus turned, it had come from Communications. The officer keyed the main viewscreen.

Four ships had hypered in, guns already blazing.

"We're taking heavy fire! Fall back, evasive action." One voice said.

Another shouted. "We're receiving a hail. Across all channels."

"Identify!" Tron roared. He stared at the images of a Victory, an ISD Deuc, Frigate, and an old Strike Class Cruiser.

"Identified as the Heresiarch, Vae Victus, Wandering Soul, and Foresight." The Comm officer shouted.

"IMPOSSIBLE!" Astronicus bellowed. "I WAS AT ANTEI! THOSE SHIPS WERE DESTROYED!"

"I too was at Antei, Lord Sadow." Simonetti muttered, almost to himself. "They were left to be destroyed. I remember the orders."

"How is this... redirect fire! Regroup!"

"Sir...!" the Comm officer shouted again.

Over the speakers, a cold, hollow voice spoke. "This is Admiral Chirak Telon. By order of Lord Trevarus Caerick, I hereby demand that you surrender."

The bridge fell silent.

On the screens, the two destroyers vomited a flood of starfighters from their ventral bays.

LAAT Hanger Bay
RSD Final Way
Lehon Space

Tsingtao sat in his seat awaiting the green light for launch. He was still furious of being grounded but knew that his Master was counting on him to secure a LZ for the upcoming ground assault. He felt the ship rock slightly. He looked out of the LAAT and saw chaos in the hanger bay. He stepped out of the ship to see what the commotion was about.

The red alert siren was activated, meaning the battle was underway. He let a soft sigh as he returned to the LAAT. Suddenly the speaker in the the Hanger Bay came to life. “LAUNCH ALL FIGHTERS!! REPEAT, LAUNCH ALL FIGHTERS!! RESERVES, TO YOUR SHIPS!!”

“Launch the reserve fighters for one capital ship?” Tsingtao thought to himself. Surely one ship was no match for the fleet the Final Way lead into the system.

As Tsingtao was about to re-enter the LAAT, Zerek jumped out of the ship. “Sir, you are needed in your fighter,“ he said to the Sith Warrior. “It seems we have more company, and they want all available fighters in battle.”

Tsingtao nodded at the Advanced Commando. “Zerek, when it is time for you to launch, I will escort the ship down. In the mean time, you’re in charge.” The commando saluted the Sith Warrior, as Tsingtao ran back to his starfighter.

Tsingtao smiled as he was going into battle. Shin’ichi was not going to be thrilled his order wasn’t followed. Tsingtao thought to himself as he ran, “no time to change into my flight suit.”


XJ2 Starfighter
Lehon Space

Tsingtao made it to his ship in time to launch with the rest of the Sapphire Squadron. Luckily for him, his ship was prepped for takeoff by a reserve. He double checked his setting, and sure enough shields were at full strength and the weaponry cells were fully charged. The XJ3-Wing fighter was really impressive.

The comm in his cockpit came to life. “Sapphire Leader to Sapphire Squad. Report in.” One by one the other members reported in that they were ready. Finally Tsingtao responded “Sapphire 7 standing by!”

“Lock foils in attack position and let’s show these guys what the Sapphire Squadron is all about! Target one of those Bantha fodders and send them to oblivion! Take out as many fighters are you can. Once those LAATs launch, everyone break off and escort them down.”

In unison the squadron replied their acknowledgment.

RSD Final Way
Lehon Space


Jade sat there twirling the com link between her fingers, waiting for the horrible static to fade into the distance. Sitting and waiting, she hated this, she would rather fight, and it’s been months since she had taken a good weapon and struck down a foe. True she had been rather preoccupied....her hand brushed against her stomach. Her daughter would be born in a matter of months, something she both rejoiced at and feared. Sighing she tossed the com link across the room and watched it smash to bits before leaving. The sirens telling the pilots to get to their fighters were defining, and yet it called to her. How could Shin 'ichi ask her to wait like this?!

She picked up a crate in the hall way with the force and threw it at some poor sap running to a station; somehow he managed to duck just in time, which totally didn't please her developing Sith nature. Storming off towards the hanger bay, to get ready to carry out her orders a sudden feeling of anxiousness swallowed her. Yes this was going to be an interesting battle in deed.

Malisane was sat in his quarters. The battle raging around him didn't interest him. He looked up as the communicator beeped. "Incoming communication."
"On screen." He wandered over to see a middle aged man wearing a red uniform.
"Greetings Mr Var."
"You can drop the pretense now Travis," Malisane said wearily, "you know who I am."
Captain Syren nodded. "Very well."
"Where are you?" Malisane asked.
"We are four hours from your location, and on sheduale."
Malisane nodded. "Good, we are orbitting the planet Lehon and in combat. Approach cautiously and find somewhere to hide out until I call you. Whatever you do don't get mixed up in all this."
"Understood," Travis replied, "Liberator out."

Combat Information Center, Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Battle of Lehon


Macron directed an ion battery to fire at the new assailants. “Tsianetomo, let me know if you detect any Beta radiation scattering from this shot when it impacts,” growled Macron as the bridge around them erupted in furious action. “I have a suspicion.”

The obsidian Krath watched the screen as he swept it with deft fingertips. “None whatsoever,” he replied. “That’s odd. I think I know what you have in mind,” he chuckled. “No feedback, but the ships do have an energy signature not unlike a lightsaber’s.”

“Exactly. The ion beam did not interact with the enemy vessels, or their shields. It’s an illusion of sorts,” the alchemist cackled. “I wonder how they managed something that big that can actually affect us?”

“I have an idea,” said the Overlord as he directed various officers. “An old Sith technique using huge projector crystals. My ancestor Naga Sadow was known to use a similar method,” he yelled from across the room.

“I see…” pondered Macron as he held his chin in his hands. “Crystals.” His feral yellow eyes lit up with naked greed. “Well, then we have to get on that ship and shut them down.” Or steal them, he thought to himself.

“Agreed. Macron, you are relieved of weapons duties. Gather some good operatives, and get on that ship and join Ashura. Shut those things down,” ordered Astronicus.

“Yes my liege,” giggled the madman as he stood up. He handed a small object to Tsainetomo, who looked on quizzically. “In case I don’t make it back, here’s that Adegan you asked for a while back. I was going to give it to you in a ceremony, but we don’t have time. It’s an altered orange Adegan, I killed the Jedi that had it myself on Ord Mantell and then treated it last month.”

The Krath yelled his thanks across the din of the CIC as Macron ran out the doorlock.

Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way

Macron’s discovery eased every mind in the CIC. The surprise arrival of the opposing capital ships seemed to present an almost insurmountable obstacle to the meting out of the Viceroy’s justice; the detection of their “phantom” status assured the Sadowans that their fallen comrades hadn’t really been called from the ether to assist the traitors in their foul schemes.

Still, a new challenge had been presented. How does one fight something that can’t really be destroyed, but has the ability to affect you?

In answer to a random exclamation of the same over the general frequency, Tsainetomo responded, “Just don’t get shot. Help’s on the way.” He attacked his coordination efforts with new fervor, injecting the same enthusiasm into his support staff.

Pleased, the Overlord smiled, even in the midst of battle. “Well done...Archpriest.”

Tsainetomo barely had time to acknowledge Astronicus’ pronouncement. His promotion would be for naught should he, or any others under his watchful tripartite eye, fail to return.

“I am indebted to you, my liege...watch it, Shadow Four! Bandits at your six! Shadows Three and Seven, move to assist.”

Even through shouting instructions, he felt a swell of pride at his new station...and at Mononoke’s gift. His new hilt would welcome the gem, and woe to those who would gaze upon his blade’s sunset glow.

Temple of the Ancients
Lehon

The pair inspected the ruins of the Temple of the Ancients in awe. Vexatus reflected on how this was where both Darth Revan and Darth Bane first forged their New Orders. The Dark Lord felt it was only right his quest should end here, on the same soil as two of the greatest Sith Lords of the past. The irony did not escape him that like Revan and Bane he was now the third follower of the rule of two to pass by this temple. Like them, Vexatus intended to forge his own kingdom.

A cruel smile crossed the Falleen’s lips. Unlike those who had come before, however, he did not intend to fail. Where Revan had been content with fleets and Bane with secrecy, Vexatus intended to stop with nothing but ultimate and undeniable power. He understood that will was everything.

“Where do the threads of the Weavery take you, my apprentice?”

The Falleen closed his eyes and reached out with his thoughts, the blood red Mark burning on his forehead as he stared out into the endless jungle. He could sense life, much of it. It was confused and primitive, not the life of beings but savage and wild.

“There is much life here, my Master,” Vexatus replied blankly, his mind still wandering the threads of the Weavery. “We shall need to be careful.”

“Look deeper, my apprentice,” the Master said, closing his eyes tightly. “Look beyond the surface and on the currents underneath. There,” he said, directing his apprentice subconsciously, “across the jungle, at the very center of this land mass.”

“The volcano,” stated Vexatus, coming across the massive form of a mountain at the center of the island. It was dormant but the threads of the Weavery seemed to coalesce at a single point right at its center. It’s heart. There was something divinely appropriate. The trapped souls of a million Rakata sealed within the core of the volcano.

Trevarus nodded as the violet Mark closed and his eyes opened.

“You learn quickly, my apprentice,” the Master mused, a hint of pride in his voice.

While the pair had been searching for the location of the Heart of the Force the troops from Zeta Cabal had been unloading the Sanguinus. They had loaded into half a dozen military speeders and were ready to make way as soon as the sorcerer gave the order. A number had formed a perimeter around the Sanguinus itself, marking out a cordon throughout the open courtyard of the Temple of the Ancients. They had also wheeled out some kind of crystal which Trevarus had explained was a form of localised planetary shielding to protect the ship from orbital bombardment.

The sorcerer seemed to be pulling out all the stops. But then this was the culmination of his life’s work. Vexatus had never expected any less. He would have done exactly the same. Indeed that was why he was here.

Master and apprentice boarded the waiting Chariot LAV and they began to move out. The speeder lifted off above the canopy of the jungle floor, keeping out of the way of any rancors and other creatures which might have otherwise sought to slow them down. On a world as enveloped in the dark side as this there was no telling what kind of monsters may have been spawned.

In the distance Vexatus could sense the Heart. It burned with an intensity he had never sensed before in his entire life. It was a pure cauldron of energy, more powerful than anything he had before sensed on Korriban, Antei or even Ziost. It cried victory. This was why he lived. This was why he had been born. This was his destiny.

Beside him he glanced at his Master who was no doubt thinking exactly the same thing.

In the end only one of them could claim ascension. The words of Darth Maestus echoed in his mind.

Two there should be; no more, no less. One to embody the power, the other to crave it.

They could not both claim the power of the Heart of the Force. In the end there could only be one.

Fallen Spear
Lehon Space

Blackwind swore as he swung the ship through the flood of fighters, the ship becoming almost an extension of his own body. He could feel the turrets push back, tearing through the TIEs from the forgotten and lost ships. Vexing his luck, his eyes caught a glimpse of one of the terrors of deep space, craters rimmed with teeth that only could be... No, they couldn't be.

Muz Stomped aboard deck, black eyes drifting across the scene of carnage before him, an amused look on his face.

Darius drew his attention away for a moment. "Is this funny, somehow?"

Muz chuckled quietly. "It's funny that you still haven't gotten me to the planet."

Blackwind cursed him as he gestured toward the havoc, the swarming mass of fighters and the beast beyond even that. Muz nodded, as if to say 'So?'

Darius returned his attention to the battle, waving a dismissive hand at the Keibatsu. "You know where your fighter is. You push through this and land, if it's so easy."

The Krath Lord turned from the viewscreen as the ship's guns atomized another brace of TIEs, moving quickly from the bridge, following the hallways down to the bay of the ship. Connecting his mind with his Praetor, the Keibatsu waited for the wisdom of the Ancient Grand Master.

He could feel it, even all the way up here, behind the screens. Good. He would be able to catch up to them while they were blinded by the power of it. Muz slipped into the cockpit of the ACTIS, letting himself drift into the tide of darkness, moving his mind silently before him as he wove a path through the battle.

Muz had more important things to consider, spinning the ring on his finger as he played the scenario out in his head again. The Heretic was dangerous prey indeed... But treachery was the way of the Sith, and even as mad as the Oracle was, he would not fall so easily.

RSD Final Way

Paladin stepped across the threshold, the solid thunk of his staff striking the deck as his boot did. Tron turned quickly, surprised to see the man so quickly, but glad to have him there. The chaos of the battle seemed to subside to a dull roar as he turned, no doubt the result of the grand master's battle meditation.

"Any aces up your sleeve, old friend?"

Paladin merely smiled, a puff of smoke rising gently to the ceiling.

Kiba Class Starfighter
Open Space
Above The Fabled Planet Lehon

The green glow of enemy fire passed over and under the Kiba as Shin’ichi barrel-rolled towards his latest victim. The TIE disintegrated into vapors as the Pontifex poured laser fire into it before banking starboard to acquire and kill another passing fighter. The Krath, oblivious to his own motions, spun the craft like an Ace as the Abomination took over his mind. The joy of the battle permeated his every action as enemy after enemy fell before his prowess.

The Keibatsu felt a sense of satisfaction come from his Prime Apprentice on the bridge of the Final Way. No doubt the Korun had solved some puzzle or outwitted another opponent. Tsainetomo was a dreadfully clever individual and in the deepest recesses of his mind Shin’ichi knew that he would have to watch his cousin, for as his power grew so would his ambition, and loyalty only stood for so long among those like them. Betrayal was the only inevitability between a Master and his Apprentice.

To his port side he sensed Nassin and Fenris struggling with their own limitations and desires to prove their worth to their master and clan. Fenris, he knew feared and in fact dreaded flying, which had been one of the biggest reasons he chose the young Knight for this mission. To live a life in fear was to be forever limited by one’s own irrationality, and that was not the way of a proper master of the Dark Side. He hoped that the boy would channel his fear into rage, for Fenris his salvation lay in the throws of anger and hatred.

Nassin on the other hand was not limited by a lack of character but rather one of ability. He struggled in the massing swarm of the enemy to keep pace with his fearful and enraged wingman and their master. His hands worked the controls of the XJ2, his eyes scanning all around him as well as registering the tracking computers that he depended on to acquire targets. Fenris seemed to be shooting in a random pattern of fury and killing whatever got in his way, Shin’ichi was on everything around him so fast that sometimes the computers couldn’t keep up with which targets he had just vaporized, and poor Nassin had to fight to keep from becoming a ghost before his training really began.

Vorion flew starboard side of the Abomination providing what little cover the Pontifex required. Like his master he exuded a calm confidence and reliance on the ways of the Dark Side that masked his own burgeoning desires for power and destruction. The ebon warrior smiled in smug satisfaction as another enemy was felled by his cannons.

As Shin’ichi flew through the debris left behind by his latest kill he felt a familiar inky blackness invade his mind. Instantly he went from relishing death to desiring it like a lover that had been denied too long, and he knew that the black eyed demon that was his older brother was near. Cursing under his breath he transmitted a quick code in the Autochthonian language and while waiting for acknowledgement blasted two more traitor pilots from the space ways over Lehon. An instant later two chirps sounded and the voice of Darius Blackwind came over his headset.

“Lord Endymiron, we are gladdened by your presence and that of your underlings. We welcome your escort as we make our approach to the planet.”

Shin’ichi rankled at being referred to by his adopted name, but when every one of your commanding officers was a Keibatsu one had to find ways of differentiating between them. His artificial voice sounded within the Fallen Spear.

Captain Blackwind please establish a secure link directly to Lord Muzahi.

The voice of the Deputy Grand Master sounded like gravel scraping across duracrete as he responded.

Abomination

If Shin’ichi had a lower jaw he would have smiled.

Muzashi…or should I call you Darth Ashen now?

It was Muz’ turn smile.

We could use you and your apprentices as an escort to the planet.

The Abomination howled in rage beneath the surface of Shin’ichi’s mind and his face took on a darkened scowl of disapproval. He felt the power that was Lehon and had heard the whispers of what was on its surface. He knew that Trevarus and Xanos coveted that power even more than their own lives, but what no one save Tsainetomo knew was that Shin’ichi was also here to harness that power. It was high time he took his place as an Elder, and like it or not the downfall of the Oracle and his Apprentice would mean the ascension of the Abomination and his. Or they would all die here…together.

I’m sorry brother, but I can’t let you swoop in and ‘save’ the day again. You have your legacy and your power; it’s time for me to get mine.

The raw shock that came from the Fallen Spear hit Shin’ichi like a knife to the heart.

Remember Pontifex that sacrifice is the way of the Dark Side

The Abomination spoke to him, attempting to ease his pain, but it only succeeded in driving the point home; that once everything was said and done he would either be dead or have power beyond the dreams of avarice without the family he loved by his side. It seemed that he was destined to cast aside selfish desire and be the catalyst of the Final Way.

Screams...

That's all she heard before waking up in a cold sweat. Rivers slid down her face and neck, sliding between her cleavage and soaking her shirt.

The Consul of Clan Naga Sadow sat bolt up right, heavy breathing was the only sound heard in the room.

A loud chirp broke the silence and gave her a jolt. Her communicator went off leaving a shrill ringing in her ears.

She flipped it open, the form of Tron appeared momentarily in miniature.

"Ashia, I need to see you on deck as soon as possible."

"On my way."

She pulled on her boots and grabbed her robes before slipping into the hallway moving toward the deck of the Final Way.

The door opened with an audible hiss, the Consul strode onto the deck and found the Overlord and Grand Master Paladin observing the scene outside the view port.

She bowed her head slightly to both men, "M'lords, what news?"

Paladin just grinned, rings from his pipe circling his head.

That's when she felt him, her husband. She scrambled to the console and flipped the communicator switch, connecting to the Fallen Spears frequency. Darius' voice came to life.

"Muz is not on board the 'Spear M'lady. He has take the ACTIS planetside."

Ashia froze.

Tron stepped to her side, his presence alone trying to soothe her, but he said nothing.

Paladin too, moved closer to her. "He'll be alright, my child. Never fear, he is strong in the Force."

His fatherly approach with her usually helped ease her, but it wasn't the power from Lehon alone that concerned the Epis. It was the affect it might have on Ashen.

ISD-II Harbinger
Bridge
Battle of Lehon


With dispassionate eye the immense man stood watching the events of the battle playing across the main viewscreen. The response of Clan Naga Sadow had been expected, yet the deployment of their entire fleet had been a bit much. Yet, he believed in Trevarus' vision. The Seneschal of the Tower--true long since abandoned--still held his loyalty to Trevarus as his highest calling. He understood that he would not know everything, yet the Master had given him a purpose, a reason for life. In this, Eosara was as much Trevarus' slave even if the manipulation affected to the crew of the warship did not apply to him. Trevarus had created Eosara, given him the capacity to overcome his mere being--it was because of Trevarus that Eosara feared no emanation of the Force, even blind to it as we was... he still felt it on a primitive level.

"Redirect all power to ventral and dorsal shields, cease ion attacks, shoot to kill." Eosara said calmly. Despite their continuance of enslavement to Trevarus' will, the crew responded to his orders. It was as if they responded to his commands on an instinctual level. Eosara was an extension of the Master's will, therefore he was to be obeyed.

The Seneschal retrieved his communicator. Dialing a frequency particular to the Commander of the Guard, he dispatched his orders to the Obsidian Cohort.

"Begin deployment to hangar levels. Prepare the traps, and expect Jedi interference. Units trained in the use of electrostaves to the fore, with support units for suppressive fire. The Dlarits will seek to spare as many of their own as possible, engage in strategies that place mundane operatives at risk. All units respond."

"Understood, Captain Goratis" came the reply from the respective commanders of Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta Cabals.

Eosara himself drew comfort from the lightsabers within easy reach. He detested the weapons, but knew that the rival Darksiders would have likely seen through his Master's trap. Their pattern of fire away from the diversions was evidence of this. The Harbinger's shields would hold for the time, the ion blasts dissipating harmlessly against the redirected energy from the Destroyer's weapons systems. To avoid destruction of the vessel, all they could do was board.

"I'll give you hell," Eosara said into the empty, mindless air.


Jungle
Lehon


Swaths of the fabled Zeta Cabal moved ahead of their Chariot LAV, clearing a path through dense foilage. Watching from inside the vehicle, Master and Apprentice were silent, tuning their attentions to the battle raging high above. Finally, Trevarus broke the silence

"Lord Ashen has arrived."

"That was not unexpected, Master. His wife is in danger."

"There is something deeper at work here. It plays beyond mere matters of ascension. The Star Chamber grows restless." Trevarus said. "The Lords have sent their chief assassin. He could seek to supplant me... us." Trevarus attempted to recover from the sleight-of-tongue, yet knew he was unsuccessful.

Alarms sounded as the pair studied each other intently. Both knew what was coming, but did not voice it. In the holographic display, they began to study the Cohort.

Teams of four soldiers fell back into defensive positions. On the screens, three Rancors had assaulted the Cabal. Trevarus watched amused as the beasts assaulted the best of his army. Eosara had trained them well, the rancors didn't stand a single chance. His warriors fell back into a defensive perimeter around their vessel. Perfectly aimed shots brought down the monsters in a space of seconds.

"Native beasts will no doubt harry our passage further" Trevarus remarked. "What does your sense tell you of our distance?"

"We are close... I can feel the Heart beating."

"Good... very good." Trevarus replied, the intensity of his eyes shimmering even more brightly violet. "The die is cast"

Combat Information Center, Command Bridge
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Battle of Lehon

"Have available squadrons escort troop transports as they close in to board the Harbringer." Ordered Admiral Simonetti.

Tsainetomo acknowledged the request from the Admiral after Astronicus nodded in agreement. "Stone and Steel squadrons, you are to escort the inbound troop transports on their way to the Harbringer."

Outside the viewport if one looked hard enough they could see the two squadrons of HLAF-500 starfighters from the Immobilizer 418 cruiser Heretic Sun forming up on the troop transports.

Astronicus looked over at the Sith Alchemist and observed the weapons status before giving a command of his own. "Intensify ion cannon fire. Target only the Star Destroyer." Then looking towards Tsainetomo once again, he continued, "Inform the boarding parties I want that ship at any cost, no matter how many of it's crew die."

"Sir, those are our people over there!" Simonetti said exasperatedly. "Whether that Krath magician is playing mind tricks on them or they have guns to their heads, they are still loyal to you."

"I'm well aware of that, Admiral." Astronicus was growing agitated with everyone thinking him a soft hearted fool. He was a Dark Jedi, the mundanes were nothing more than fodder for his ambitions. "Unlike the two we are hunting, I know better than to kill officers on the bridge in front of everyone. It's bad forum. If I were to do it, I would at least try to do it somewhere less public." He could hear Simonetti gulp audibly at that part. The Admiral had always thought the actions of Vexatus and Caerick had been frowned upon by the Viceroy because he detested the loss of valuable life. That was obviously not the case. Astronicus continued, "Word gets around the fleet, and fast, when one executes his underlings publicly. It affects morale. Morale is an asset every bit as much as a Star Destroyer. We ask those we command to be ready to die for us, not because of us, and the moment we lose their confidence, we start to lose the war. We need them, but they... they need me. The pact works both ways. If you make mistakes like that and your warriors morale drops in a real war, then mistakes will happen and get you killed. If a ship's company is terrified of getting something wrong, pretty soon they stop using their initiative and don't do anything at all."

"I see." Said Simonetti, fear emanating from the man made Astronicus smile slightly. Fear was Palpatine's way of ruling. It was effective, but lead to rebellion. Astronicus desired to follow his ancestor's footstep, however.

"Prep a LAAT/i for me." Ordered the Viceroy to no one particularly. "Once the Harbringer is out of the way, Grand Master Paladin and I will be going planet-side." Turning to face his entourage of Dark Jedi he looked directly at the Consul of his clan. "You of course are invited to join us, if you so wish to madam Consul."

Hangar Bay
Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Battle of Lehon

The two Delta Advanced Commandos loaded the LAAT/i with their personal supplies for the upcoming planet-side mission. Captain Cresh was reviewing sensor data of the planet, it was very vague since they had to train their sensors on the battle in progress. Lieutenant Dorn was overseeing the loading of other supplies and inspecting the troops that would be assigned to them for this mission.

Dorn walked over to Cresh, switching to a personal com frequency that only the two could hear. "Looks like a hardy bunch, too bad most of them won't survive this mission."

"Don't worry about them, Lieutenant. Just make sure we have everything we need." Replied Cresh. "There is a reason they call them support. They're not our brothers, they didn't receive the training we did. Ground Pounders, bantha fodder, call 'em what you will it doesn't matter they won't see the light of the next day."

"Positive attitude you have there. I guess I'm glad I'm one of your brothers or you'd see me in a different light too." Retorted Dorn.

Bridge
Vibre-class Cruiser Turmoil
Dlarit Special Operations Group
Hours into the Battle of Lehon

"Sir, our shields can't take much more of this." Reported an officer at the ops console. The bridge shook as the cruiser took blast after blast on it's failing shields.

"We have to keep up our attack." Ordered lieutenant Bachtan. "Their shields are likewise starting to give out. Soon the ship will be disabled. Inform Lieutenant Black to have his platoons ready to launch."

From his personal readout Bachtan could see that the ion cannons of the Turmoil, Despot and Final Way were all lancing beams of blue ionized energy at the Harbringer. It was only a matter of moments before it's shields gave out and it's systems were disabled ship-wide.

"Sir, the Kangaras Division has arrived!" Yelled the officer over the noisy den of explosions and rumblings throughout the ship. "The Overseer is laying on it's ion cannons."

From his readout again, Bachtan could see the events unfolding. The reinforced fire of the Overseer's ion cannons had turned the tide. The shields of the mighty Mark II Imperial Star Destroyer flickered and failed. The blue lances of energy conversed on it's hull. The ship's lights began to extinguish as it's systems were disabled throughout the ship.

"Orders from fleet command, sir.' Reported the communications officer. "We are now to engage other hostiles. No mercy."

"Make it so." Ordered Rem Bachtan from his command chair. Today would be the most he had seen of combat in a long time, if not in his entire career. He would not forget the events that took place this day. How little did he know the truth of that.

Jungle
Lehon

As they made their way deeper and deeper into the jungle Vexatus could feel the deep thrumming growing ever stronger. It gave him a nostalgic feeling of Antei. It was strange to think it had been two years since he had last stepped foot on the planet, three since he had last spent any real time there. What he had experienced on Antei was breathtaking but nothing like this. Lehon was heavy with ancient history and secrets long forgotten.

The Dark Lord sensed something. It was immense. He looked out at where the Circles from Zeta Cabal were still hacking their way through the undergrowth but there was nothing. Whatever it was it was coming up from behind. Fast.

Vexatus glanced sideways for a split second, catching the gaze of his Master who was doing exactly the same. Trevarus’s hand was on his lightsaber before the Chariot LAV even slammed into the dirt, the gargantuan beast falling on top of it, smashing it out of the sky.

The side door was open and Vexatus and Trevarus were out, hurling themselves through the clearing which had been formed in front of the speeder. Vexatus heard the primal scream of the massive beast before he turned around and finally looked up at it. The Chariot was a wreck. Claws the size of fully grown Wookiees had torn straight through the cockpit. The pilot was obviously dead.

The creature looked like some kind of gigantic acklay. Its hide was glossy black and it had eight legs, each ending with a single massive claw. Where its head should have been all the Sith Lord could see were fangs, rows and rows of teeth the size of his fist.

Master and apprentice did not need to exchange words. They simply acted.

Trevarus charged the creature’s left flank while Vexatus simultaneously did the same on the opposite side. The mutant acklay cried out as the two tiny beings rushed toward it and pushed off the Chariot, springing into the air. The two Dark Jedi Masters leapt, lunging at the acklay as the beast fell out of the sky, severing three of its legs before it crashed into the earth throwing dust into the air.

The acklay roared, its pain tearing through Vexatus’s mind as he drank of its anguish, listening to its cries as it hobbled on its severed limbs. The acklay shifted its weight, favouring the legs which were now little more than stumps before it roared murder toward the Dark Jedi again.

By then Trevarus and Vexatus had landed, rolling back into action with the elegance of a pair of professional gymnasts. They charged the acklay again, their actions the result of pure instinct than anything else. They were like mirror images, indistinguishable in every way apart from the burning violet of one and the crimson blaze of the other.

Without a word or even a conscious thought the pair sprung, moving with such speed the acklay never had time to react. As the pair passed they plunged their lightsabers deep into the creature’s carapace, their momentum causing them to cleave the acklay into quarters. The pair dropped into a pair of perfectly perpendicular rolls before standing up, turning idly to stare upon the rigid form of the whimpering creature.

The acklay’s head darted around almost as if looking for someone to help. Its face was a mask of pain and raw anguish as the creature cried out one final time before its neck went slack and its body parted, the creature quite literally falling to pieces. Trevarus and Vexatus had closed their eyes, drinking deeply of the pain that permeated the Force as the acklay’s life was extinguished, echoing through the jungle.

“Nice work, my apprentice,” called Trevarus while he held up a hand to signal one of the other Chariots to drop down and pick them up. The rest of Zeta Cabal had carried on ahead, carving their way through the undergrowth. The fight had never fazed them. They knew better than to doubt the success of their lord.

After the pair had boarded the second Chariot it lifted off and they were once more underway, continuing on behind the rest of Zeta Cabal, listening to the steady beat of the Heart.

Thump-thump . . . thump-thump . . . thump-thump . . . thump-thump . . .

Final Way
Corridors

As Xathia had stayed in the room they were in as was requested by Ylith, the Valheru was moving through
the corridors towards the Hangar bay. Alarms kept ringing overhead and alerted everyone that the fight was
getting close now, and that the hour of judgement would arrive soon. Ylith took his gaze downwards and
could still feel his body twitch as he reminded himself of the first encounter he had with Darth Vexatus
personally, on the Vong Worldship. The crushing of his body with a simple flick of the Darth's hand was
burned into his mind and the feeling of pain always swept up when the memory was triggered.

After the Battle of Telos, Ylith went on a large journey to find his own strengths again, even allowing him
to be taught new fighting styles with his present sword and to meet up with Xathia. He was amazed by
how much had happened in such a short period of time. Draken, who seemed to be fused with Ylith's own
spirit, was becoming more and more selfconscious in what he did. He even had moments when he could
stand on his own, if only for brief moments as the spirit was healing itself slowly from the trauma of the
Vong War by rooting himself deep within Ylith's mind.

The Valheru shook his head, the lingering thoughts of all that had happened between the first time he met
Darth Vexatus and the present day dissapearing as he neared the Hangar Bay. He needed to go unseen by
any of his Clan peers, and especially not to be noticed by those that were not supposed to.

"Ylif, why is we going?" N3-L said, while wrapping her arms around Ylith's neck and placing her head on his
shoulder as she was hanging on his back.
"Because we need to Nel, now stay quiet. We dont want bad people catching us."
"BAD PEOPLE?! WHERE IZ THEM!? WHERE?!" She shouted and then startted crying like a small child which resulted
in Ylith placing his hand over her mouth and twacking the little droid on the head.
"Quiet!" The Battlemaster said and Nel nodded with tears in her eyes, rubbing her head.

"Brother." Tyren said, standing at the entrance towards the hangar bay. Suddenly Ylith narrowed his eyes and
glanced sideways at the Krath.

"Tyren, it's been too long...how are things?" Ylith said and Tyren didn't answer, just drawing his blade and held the
edge against the Valheru's neck.

"You know why I am here..." Tyren said, meaning Jade, who Ylith had left alone and sent back to Ragnos Cathedral
after they broke up, only by the hands of Tyren was she allowed unharmed from the Marakith Skyhook.

Ylith grabbed the edge of Tyren's blade and pushed it aside, glancing into his brother's eyes.
"You betrayed the Atema Ylith."

"The Atema betrayed ME. You know that as well as I do. Yet you choose to defend that woman instead of your own
brother."

"She is pregnant for god's sake! How can you simply turn a blind eye!"

"Watch me..."

Was all Ylith said before he walked past his brother, his shoulder pushed into his so move him out of
the way. In a flash of anger, Tyren moved to Ylith and grabbed his shoulder, only to be slammed back by a backhand
blow and suddenly feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder. When Tyren opened his eyes he found an arrow sticking out
and Ylith's Bracelet expanded like a bow.

"She means nothing to me anymore Tyren, now leave me alone or I will kill you the next time we meet." The Sith walked
off, deforming the bow back into the natural bracelet form and Tyren was left in the hallway, pulling out the arrow from
his shoulder and slamming his fist into the wall behind him.

"Brother...what have you become..."

---

Final Way
Hangar Bay

Ylith moved through the hangar bay, walking towards the first available shuttle he could find and boarded it, alone, to be
brought to the main land of Lehon and to start his own personal quest for revenge on Darth Vexatus. During his time
travelling the Valheru learned there are two types of battles to be fought. One to protect and one for preserve your honour.
The Sith counted his revenge on what Vexatus has done to him as the latter, and he would continue fighting untill he dies.

The shuttle moved slowly from the ground and out of the hangar bay, on route to Lehon.

ISD-II Harbinger
Hanger
Battle of Lehon

Sakura had killed a lot of the crew to get to where she was; the Dark Jedi punched the controls on the panel and watched as the forcefield around the hanger dropped just in time for a starfighter to not get destroyed from the barrier of energy.

The shields to the hanger door went up and Ashura was inside. The Sith Battlemaster quickly jumped out and watched as his disciple ran out of the hanger control room. “Good to see you, Sakura.”

The woman bowed and smiled slightly. “Master, I don’t think this is a battle we can win on our own.”

Ashura had to agree with that; the Clan needed to retake the ship and to do that he would need to head to the bridge. “Sakura, I need you to head to engineering and bring down the deflector shields.”

“What about you master?”

“I will head to the bridge and show whoever is in charge whey I am Commissar,” replied Ashura as his crimson lightsaber came to life. The time for pretence was over… this was war. “Good luck, Sakura. Get those shields down no matter the cost.”

The two Dark Jedi parted company as Ashura headed towards the bridge and his disciple had her own mission to complete.

ISD-II Harbinger
Bridge
Battle of Lehon

Eosara watched on the monitor as the Sith ran down the corridor killing the crew in his way without an much as blinking his eyes. He knew Ashura was heading to the bridge; heading to meet his end by Eosara. The Seneschal would show this insignificant Jedi that nothing would stand in the way of Trevarus’ will.

“Let that white haired Jedi through, I want to finish him myself,” Eosara said as it was time to test his skills against one of the Clan’s warriors; his first kill. “Kill the woman, though.” He reached for his lightsabers and ignited them. The time had come to use them, the time had come to kill!

ISD-II Harbinger
Engineering Deck


Sakura ran, fear driving her forward, forcing her fear to drive the Dark Side into her legs. She ran as if all hell was chasing her. She caught glimpses of the black armored soldiers, But for the moment they let her pass, or simply didn't see her.

Somehow, she didn't believe that.

Commander Ferrall trained his blaster on the running girl. He stood point, the three other members of his unit standing, tracking her through their helmet HUD's. Ferrall raised his hand, and gave the signal. Four shots peppered the bulkhead she had passed not even a second before. He cursed silently.

Gamma Six stood in unison, moving with determined swiftness down the corridor after her. She slammed through the door into the main engineering section. When the four soldiers rushed in, she managed to draw her blaster before they fired.

As Sakura collapsed, she fired at what she thought was the central control for shield operations.

Then everything went black.


Bridge


A curse escaped the man's lips as he watched security recordings. Gamma six put the little girl down...

"All deflector shielding has failed," a robotic voice said, the officer's face not leaving the readout that he stared into, his body rigid.

The Seneschal ignored him, he had other concerns. Such as the white-haired young man watching the woman fall in on the security holograph.

"No!" Ashura shouted. "NO!"

Eosara swung the green lightsaber in his left hand. He had picked it up from the fallen body of Kem-Shu Maeda. How he had longed to snap the spine of that insolent whelp himself, but celebrated his death anyway. This Jedi screaming rage would have to take his place.

The young warrior raised his flashing crimson lightsaber, gripped tightly in both enraged fists. He leapt forward. Eosara stood almost a full half meter over him. He flexed his broad shoulders, and with a sweeping strike with a volley-ball sized fist, landed a powerful uppercut to Ashura's jaw. The Sith crumpled against the far wall, dazed for a moment.

"Not even Lord Caerick can defeat me hand-to-hand, Isradia" Eosara said evenly. "I suggest you leave before you're seriously hurt"

Rage made Ashura powerful. He barely knew the pain from his cracked mandible. Recovering his senses very quickly, he against launched himself at the older warrior, face betraying thousands of battles. Learning from his first mistake, Ashura kept his distance, forcing the Seneschal to defend himself with the lightsaber.

A seasoned veteran, Ashura recognized the signs of someone who had mastered form, but was ill-practised in technique. Eosara handled his weapon well, he moved through the stance of Makashi with perfection, yet there was no grace, no art. Having sparred with Master Sadow on numerous occasions, he knew that the traitor had trained his Seneschal. But Eosara was not the prodigy that Trev was.

He knew that the giant of a man would try to lure him into a close-quarters battle again. He needed to get close enough to strike.

For a split second, he was distracted by an alarm. Eosara pivoted across his shoulder, twisting through his back and waist to drive an elbow into Ashura's spine. With a satisfied smirk, the Seneschal watched the young man crumple to the floor, his lightsaber clattering across the deck.

Eosara landed a powerful kick to midsection that knocked the breath from Ashura, then not content to let him lie, Eosara grabbed him. Raising him high into the air, Ashura was thrown bodily into the navigations terminal. The officer sitting there broke his fall, but died as he was forced head-first into the CRT display. Sparking smells of burning hair and blood filled the bridge.

Eosara stood, arms folded across his chest, watching the warrior struggle to his feet.

RSD Final Way
Hangar Bay
Battle of Lehon

Macron sat in the cockpit of the Nachzerer, punching up the controls that warmed her cranky engines. A pounding sound hammered at her side as he cut on the exterior cameras. “You’re not having all the fun, you shutta!” echoed from the exterior mikes.

“Hello cousin,” remarked Macron with a feral grin as he leaned over the com. “Care to join me?” His voice echoed in the now largely empty hangar, with most of the available craft being outside in the dogfight.

“You bet your sweet kastk* I do,” replied the Archpriest. He entered the ship as the walkway came down. Tsainetomo strode to the bridge and greeted Macron as he sat down in the familiar cockpit chair. “Astronicus relieved me to accompany you. Apparently, getting those projectors shut down is a top priority.”

“Right. Bring anybody?” asked Macron as he heard boots clomping in the holding bay. He toggled the camera switch and peered at the monitor.

“I did. Naiia joined us, and five DAC troopers. I assume you brought toys?” Tsainetomo asked with a grin as the engines spun up to full power.

“Indeed. I have twelve of my best assault droids. They are an interesting bunch; I used components from the YVH series and old Sith designs. They look like hell, but they are tough as nails. And my latest pet,” replied the alchemist as the ship lifted from the deck.

“Latest pet? I thought most of them were dead. I know Sweetums was slain a while back at Telos,” remarked the Krath casually.

Macron winced. “She died a good death, in service to a Sith as her kind were meant to do. No I meant experiment number 87. It is a cross between a Taozin and a Silooth,” he giggled as they shot from the hangar bay.

“Dren, man. Isn’t that a highly unstable mix?” asked Sai as he deftly manipulated the holocontrols. Naiia joined them both with a silent nod and sat down in the gunner’s seat.

“Welcome, my apprentice,” remarked Mononoke. “Yeah it’s unstable as hell Sai. However, this one’s disposable. I plan on letting it loose to create a diversion. Energy weapon resistant, mean as hell, acid spittle… should be a real fun time. Besides, the damn thing nearly wrecked my lab last week. It’s got to GO, know what I mean?”

“I copy that. Diverting main cannon power to shields,” the Archpriest stated. “Executing evasive maneuvers. Looks like we have a phantom TIE on our tails.”

“No problem,” remarked Naiia. “I’ll keep the lasers on him until we arrive.”

“Copy that,” remarked the alchemist as the ship rolled, pitched and yawed through the debris field and fight. “Almost there…”

The ship gave a huge lurch as the open hangar bay yawned before them. “What was that?” asked Naiia.

“That would be total loss of our shields,” remarked Macron calmly. “Looks like theirs are down too. Don’t worry, the armor will hold. That is, unless Tsainetomo here pulls a willy and gives us a bad landing,” he chuckled. “We’ll loose the creature after we’re gone to give a distraction.”

“Yeah right,” responded the Korun as they settled in with another jolt. “Not likely. Now, let’s make with the killing. Lady, gentle.. er, Macron?”

ISD-II Harbinger
Hanger
Battle of Lehon

The hatches on the Nachzerer opened, disgorging the droids and DAC troopers. Three battle-lust enraged figures ran down the hatchway, lightsabers igniting with characteristic snapping hisses. “It’s killing time baby!” snarled the Warlord as he spotted the first of the defenders.


---
*Ancient Sith for posterior

ISD-II Harbinger
Hangar


Scores of high-powered blaster shots began to assault the boarding party as soon as they stepped foot off the ramp. Five DAC Troopers rolled away into defensive positions under the Nachzerer.

"Kark it" Macron shouted, blocking shots on the edge of his lightsaber. It was nearly impossible to pin down where fire was coming from. A near complete seige of the Hangar seemed to be in place. It seemed that shots were even being fired from directly above.

Naiia, Tsainetomo, and Macron stood back to back, their lightsabers flashing. Tsai spotted one Cohort soldier, and managed to deflect a shot directly into its visor. It fell a smoking ruin.

One DAC shoulder-flung a grenade into a weapons cluster. Diving to the deck, the trio managed to avoid the worst of the shrapnel.

Eight black-armored Cohort soldiers dashed forward, twirling long silver-metal staffs in each hand. With a sizzling of electricity, they charged to life.

"Now it gets interesting" Naiia said. "I've heard of these."

"Electrostaves." Macron spat, throwing a quick riposte. He began to giggle slightly. "This is fun"

Sai fought two warriors simultaneously. "Naiia, keep the incoming blaster shots surpressed."

Macron and Tsainetomo flung themselves into the midst of the stave-bearing Cohort. Screaming war cries, they fought with the full fury of the Force.

"These guys are good" Sai shouted.

"Not good enough!" Mac sliced through the neck of one Cohort, then brought his lightsaber through to split another's weapon. This soldier backed off for a moment, then dove back towards Macron, his stance adjusted to something familiar

Kirili. Macron realized, then adjusted his own stance. The heavily-armored Sith battled the warriors of his estranged tutor. The battle seemed to fade into background as thoughts of the duel began to overtake him. Striking, pacing, fading back through a thrust with his shoto. Blaster shots roared between the two.

Macron began to laugh, and doubled his intensity. His opponent reacted appropriately, and a bit more violence became apparent in the battle.

"You are a slave!" Macron shouted, his voice taking an edge of intimidation. "You serve a false god, for what?"

"To die, Sith." The Cohort responded with a metallic voice.

The soldier flipped his electrostave upright through his left hand, and more quickly than Mac could even anticipate, flung the shimmering weapons forward like knives. The movement caught Mac off guard, and he stumbled back feeling the vibration of a crack in his armor.

His opponent withdrew a small device, a thermal detonator. Throwing the switch, he tackled Macron to the floor as the grenade exploded.

From some meters away, Naiia and Tsainetomo saw the explosion

"MACRON!" Both shouted.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon

The convoy stopped when the praetorians of Zeta Cabal finally struck rock. They had arrived at the base of a volcanic mountain that rose out of the center of the landmass. Vexatus surmised the volcano had probably first formed the island, much like the surrounding isles they had seen during their arrival in the Sanguinus. It was difficult to make much out with the jungle still thick this close to the volcano itself but from the clearing the praetorians had created Vexatus was able to make out the mountain itself, rising far into the sky. He could just make out the clouds around its peak.

Before them was what appeared to be some form of grand entrance way. The clearing was a good ten meters across with the doorway itself several meters tall. Zeta Cabal had fanned out to secure the perimeter leaving Trevarus and Vexatus to disembark their Chariot and move in for a closer look. The entrance seemed to be made of some kind of white stone, quite unlike the surrounding rock. It had obviously been intentionally put there and presumably was the basis of the construction.

Vexatus felt the entrance was quite unlike anything he had experienced on Korriban. There the Sith had prided themselves on great golden statues and elaborate carvings. For all its grandeur the entrance into the side of the volcano was relatively contemporary in its minimalism. The only signs of any attempt to decorate it were the inscriptions that lined every inch of its surface but he was sure that was more likely some form of incantation.

Trevarus seemed to have read Vexatus's thoughts and chuckled. “What have I always told you about Sith, my apprentice? This is the mark of true power. The Rakata did not need to compensate for their failings. They were gods.”

The Falleen did not argue. His Master was right. The ancient Sith had been little better than the Star Chamber. They had deified themselves inside their little empire but ultimately they had still met their end at the hand of the Old Republic. The Rakata and their Infinite Empire had ruled the stars.

Vexatus heard the voice of Darth Maestus whisper in his ear. He will steal it from you . . .

The Sith Lord jerked to look at the sorcerer but Trevarus was merely inspecting the runes on the stones which had been placed around the entrance way, running his fingers across the inscriptions. Vexatus frowned before realising the praetorians from Zeta Cabal were simply going about their business also. Apparently only he had been able to hear Maestus’s voice.

In time, my Master, in time. Vexatus wasn’t quite sure which Master he was referring to.

When Trevarus turned to speak he suddenly froze, his eyes drifting into the distance as if he was listening to something. Vexatus narrowed his eyes before noticing the Fragment of Ombus imbedded in the Amulet of Orian was glowing vibrantly. It would seem Maestus was not the only wraith interested in the outcome of the next few hours.

“We should head inside,” said Trevarus finally. He waved a hand signal at one of the praetorians and Zeta Cabal formed into a defensive ring around the entrance way. The sorcerer gestured for his apprentice to follow, “Come.”

Warily, Vexatus followed after his Master, stepping over the threshold and into a thin corridor made out of the same out of place white stones. The pair followed the passageway inside before coming to a chamber that opened out into a square room about ten meters across. There was a simple white obelisk in the middle with the same runic inscriptions along the sides. At the far side a yellow energy field blocked their way through the next doorway heading deeper into the volcanic temple.

“Brilliant,” grumbled Vexatus. A blocked doorway was hardly unexpected but it was still a problem to be dealt with. “Any ideas?”

“Quiet,” said Trevarus as he ran his fingers over the obelisk in the center of the room. A gentle thrum of energy seemed to pulse through the room when his fingers came into contact with it. Vexatus recognised it instantly as a wave of dark side energies. The Rakata had fuelled their entire empire with the dark side. The temple seemed no different.

However despite the ripple of energy the energy field did not budge.

“My turn,” Vexatus said before raising a fist and sending a wave of lightning into the field. It exploded with a hiss of static before dissipating harmlessly, the energy field appearing completely unmoved. Vexatus cursed.

Trevarus rolled his eyes. “You really do need to learn some etiquette, my apprentice.” The sorcerer looked around to see if there was any kind of switch but the room was empty but for the obelisk. He closed his eyes and reached out, trying to search for a solution.

Just as the Mark on his forehead opened a pale figure appeared in front of the energy field. The figure wore a relatively simple gray tunic, the only distinguishing feature being a black trim around the cuffs. Its eyes were on two stalks jutting out from either side of the figure’s head and a set of gills along either cheek were visible, giving the creature a vaguely amphibian appearance.

Both Trevarus and Vexatus recognised the creature instantly as a Rakata.

In the Rakata’s hands it held something that resembled a vibrostaff although the blades were inscribed with the same runes that seemed to adorn every surface of the temple. When the creature spoke its voice was strangely harmonious, almost as if it was singing, though there was a slight gurgling sound, almost as if the creature was speaking from underwater.

“Kerahan Rakatar Daritha. Sin kar kerata jan?”

Though the words were ancient their meaning resonated in Vexatus’s mind.

I am the Rakatan Emperor. Who are you to defile this place?

“Sin Jerahu kar,” replied Trevarus.

I am your god.

Starwind-class Pleasure Yacht Violator
On approach to Lehon

All of the LAAT/i aboard the Final Way had already been launched by the time Astronicus had given his order for one to be readied for himself. That being the case he decided to use the next craft available, the Starwind-class Pleasure Yacht Violator that was stationed aboard the Republic-class Star Destroyer.

He and his colleagues were en route for the planet Lehon, avoiding the still ongoing battle with the phantom ships as much as possible. The Violator was lightly armed and not a tactical combat vessel. Never the less, they would be able to slip past the now disabled Harbringer to make their way to the planet. Two fully loaded infantry Low Altitude Assault Transports were on either side of the vessel, with two full squadrons of Heavy/Light Attack Fighters escorting the three transports.

The Kangaras Division was acting as a screen for their entry, the two Assassin-class Corvettes warding off any would be aggressors - typically starfighters. Meanwhile, the Dlarit Special Operations Group harassed the phantom capital ships, merely waiting for the boarding parties that were on their way to the Harbringer to destroy, or at the very least disable, the projectors.

"Captain, how many troops do we have in total?" Asked Ashia. Captain Cresh, adjutant to the Viceroy, looked over a datapad. Not that he needed to, he was well aware of how many troops, what quality they were and what capablities they possessed. His helmeted face revealed nothing about what he was thinking.

"We have eight Delta Advanced Commandos on each "larty" with twenty-two D-SOG troops as well." Cresh said. "Counting Lieutenant Dorn and myself, along with the platoon of D-SOG on board, we have a total of eighty men. Though to be honest ma'am, I don't expect many of the D-SOG troops to make it through this."

"Thank you, Captain." Stated Astronicus. "We'll make sure to utilize all of you to the fullest of your ablities."

The yacht rocked from an onslaught by enemy fighters. One of the HLAF-500 squads broke formation to deal with the new threat and ensure that the Viceroy and company made it to Lehon in one piece.

Lieutenant Dorn was flying the vessel for the most part but as the group neared the debris field his mind, along with the minds of the other two transport's pilots, fell under the control of Astronicus. An accomplished pilot himself, he reached out with the Force and guided the movements of their hands like clockwork. The three vessels, their escorts now returning to the battle behind them, weaved through the debris like a leaf on the wind. Within moments they were through the ring of metal obstacles and heading for the planet that awaited them.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon


Temple of Lost Souls... how fitting. Trevarus thought. There would be no use for lightsabers. This shade out of millenia long since crumbled to wasted dust would not be silenced through mere violence.

Life is a mystery...
Everyone must stand alone....
I hear you call my name...

Words played an endless miasma of possiblity to the Sorcerer. He was a master of riddles, the judge of interpretation. His vision had guided life and death. Yet, here all causality was reduced to empirical knowledge. There was no mystery, only his will.

"Ka nah ran... ah sath kenat denroth". Trevarus said, his hands raised against the shade of the predecessor to the Dark Lords of the Sith.

"Kerial teran sin Jerahu." Replied the specter. With a outlet the rage, the Specter unleashed a wave of energy at the pair. Reacting through pure instinct, the Master flexed his hands and screamed, the will of Lord Orian crying out in his waking dreams.

There should be only one...

I am.... we are... The Dragon spoke. Limitless power seemed to overcome the Sorcerer, Lord Orian called for the Dragon, and out the abyss... Brother Thunder answered. Screaming rage, screaming pain, screaming the denial of fifteen years silence. Daritha aside, the Emperor-Ghost could not respond.

The Dragon had spoken, and the Essential Construct had bent to his will. There would be only will... there would be only passion.

The Dragon clasped his left hand on the crystal, and merely muttered. In the space of a moment, the intensity of his eyes had shifted to a familiar blue.

"What... what happened?" Trevarus asked.

"I don't know, my Master" Vexatus said, uncertainty edging into his voice. "Your Brother awoke, and screamed."

"Shan Long murmurs... he seeks blood. Perhaps it best we explore this temple apart. The way of the Heralds will guide us to an end."

"Are you certain that is wise?" Vexatus asked. Yet there was a tinge of relish in his voice. He was certain that his own visions were prescient of the vaunted Oracle. He steeled his gaze.

"Mark my words, Lord Vexatus" Trevarus said evenly. "We both die this day."


ISD-II Harbinger
Bridge


Struggling to rise, the vaunted Sith straggled to his feet. Eosara considered this battle. In a chirping of his communicator, he understood.

It was time.

There was never any question of his loyalty... he lived only to serve. The prearranged codes between Lord and Seneschal were many, and well understood. Circumstance was a consideration... yet in a rare show, Trevarus was providing him with advance warning.

Eosara left the Jedi to die, making his way to the deeper levels of the Harbinger. There was no question, only obedience,.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon

The pair split up after passing through the energy field which had promptly disappeared following the Dragon’s utter obliteration of the ghost of the Rakatan daritha. Shan Long was growing restless. It appeared as if Trevarus was beginning to lose the battle of willpower against the Dragon.

Vexatus found it somewhat comforting. His Master always had fought the change. As the Falleen wandered through the pristine white corridors of the artificial temple he suppressed a laugh. The words of his second Master echoed in his mind. . .

The Force will change you. It will transform you. Some fear this change. True power can come only to those who embrace the transformation.

Darth Vexatus had embraced that transformation. He had allowed Xanos Zorrixor to die in the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong. He was nothing now. Only will. Will was all that kept him breathing. It was something the Star Chamber and their lust for kingdoms and glory could never understand. Like the ancient Sith before them, they would never see past their own vanity.

Only then did Vexatus realise the words were not echoes.

He has always been weak, came Darth Maestus’s voice. He fears apotheosis. He fears what will happen when he surrenders to his power. He is no different to all the others.

“He saw what they could never see,” Vexatus replied, though he was not arguing. “He understood the meaning of the prophecy. He led me here, just as he led me to you.”

Vexatus reflected on how so much had built up to this day. From when he had first met the man named Trevarus Caerick nearly fourteen years ago. To their discovery of Antei and his Master’s careful orchestrations which had finally gained them access to the knowledge the Star Chamber had tried to keep hidden. To the past three years during which time that knowledge had led them here.

There is no room for compassion, my apprentice, whispered Maestus. Loyalty will prevent you from claiming what is rightfully yours. He knows this. You are no more than his tool.

“Like I am yours?”

The witch chuckled. He must accept the challenge of holding onto power the same as you. There can only be one Dark Lord. The strong rule; the weak are meant to serve. It is inevitable; axiomatic.

Vexatus did not say anything else. His Master was right. They both were. This battle was fixed when he had first pledged himself to the sorcerer all those years ago on their return from Antei. The apprentice must rise up to overthrow the Master and seize their mantle. It is the way of things. It is how it is meant to be. It culls the weak. It is the dark’s greatest strength.

You are the true Dark Lord, echoed Maestus’s voice. You are the greatest of all of them.

The Falleen continued through the corridors that seemed to be working their way deeper and deeper into the volcano. He had passed through several open rooms but aside from the odd obelisk there was little in the way of decoration. Some of the walls housed control panels, ancient devices older than the Republic itself, yet amazingly they still looked good as new. He could feel the dark side permeating everything, every surface, every panel, every stone. This entire temple seemed to be constructed of the raw essence of creation itself. In the distance the silent throb of the Heart seemed to grow, beginning to eclipse his every waking thought.

Thump-thump . . . thump-thump . . . THUMP-THUMP . . .

The end was nearing. The consummation of all things. The close of the Final Way.

Sword and Shield were about to clash. The only question was which would be left standing.

ISD-II Harbinger
Bridge

Ashura has been outmatched; Trevarus Seneschal had been better than him. There was no other way of getting around it.

Just. Better. Trained.

But the Sith was stubborn and despite the sense that this could be this last battle, the Battlemaster got to his feet and went after the hulking man. He could feel his broken ribs edging into him like knives. The right thing to do would be to see medical attention.

<><><>

Eosara was making well his escape when the blast door in front of him closed; he turned around to see the Jedi hobbling after him. “Don’t you know when to just give up and die?”

“No, why don’t you make me.” Replied Ashura as he coughed up a little blood. Isradia realised that despite all his skill he was going to die. The One Path couldn’t save him now… or could it? It was like an awakening and the truth was so powerful that he should have seen it sooner.

“Kill me.”

Eosara looked at Ashura with a startled expression; the Jedi was asking for death. However Ashura knew what had to be done… he knew how to remove the last vestige of weakness. To embrace the One Path with everything he had become was to finally shed the last cloak of his old life… if it was ever his at all.

Ashura gripped his lightsaber tightly; the hilt had been damaged and the blade rendered useless to anyone who didn’t understand the Sith’s weapon. Eosara lightsaber ignited and struck Ashura; death was something Isradia had faced before and grew powerful from… as he would yet again.

“Die”

“Never!”

Ashura’s reply was an inhumane snarl followed by a Dark Side howl that could rival Darth Sidious when the Dark Lord revealed himself to the Jedi. With blinding speed he slashed Eosara’s across the face with the with the twin metal blades on the front of the lightsaber. Isradia then twirled the hilt around and brought the stake pointed end into the black armour.

The dark side of the Force flowed through the saber and began to change the physical properties of metal, leaving it is state of flux that sheered through the armour and into Eosara chest wounding the man.

Then something happened as the Jedi took his last breath; he began to change. His hair seemed to shift from white to dark blonde, his azure eyes dulled to blue grey, the Jedi’s skin that had been almost lifeless like he was when living dead also change to a fleshy tanned colour.

The fallen Jedi Knight known as Ashura Konden crumbled to the floor in a lifeless heap; however the truth of the matter was Ashura had died four years ago on the sands of Tatooine. The perversion born out of the void of the Dark Side had never, ever, been Ashura Konden. The chaotic aspects warring inside Isradia had finally stopped fighting and became one... a ripple of blasted through the Force. Something had happened... something truly wonderous and terrifying.

The Sith the Clan knew as Ashura Isradia finally understood to purge himself of weakness he needed to let go of the last remnant of the past life that had never been his; whereever Isradia was now it wasnt on the Harbinger.

The final death of Ashura Konden had been achieved... weakness irradiated… Isradia lived on.

Confused from what just happened and wounded from the dead Jedi, Eosara continued on his way to meet his master on Lehon.

RSD Final Way
In Space
Battle of Lehon

Joseem's LAAT swung violently as they maneuvered around the debris. "Pilot, I will kill you with my own hands if you don't get this ship under control!" he screamed. They were heading planetside, as his master had ordered. He had the good fortune to take four DACs with him. Krill, Zerek, Shen, and Thesh were fine Commandos. They followed orders without question, and that would be needed once they hit the ground.

Joseem watched the battle going on around him. TIE Fighters and X-Wings exploded in heat and flame, adding to the debris field that had been spawned so many millenia ago. He reached out through the Force and felt Tsingtao. Tsingtao was flying escort and would make sure that they arrived on the planet in one piece.

A sudden lurch almost threw him to the back of the ship. Joseem cursed and started to move forward, fully intending on killing the pilot, just as he had promised. As he made his way forward, he saw what had been the cause of the maneuver. The largest space slug that he had ever seen, its mouth agape and heading right for them. Joseem reached out through the Force and grabbed one of the asteroids. Joseem started to sweat at the size of the rock he was moving, but his fear and anger overcame it. He pushed with all his might and sent the enormous mass right towards the slug. As Joseem marveled at his ingenuity, the asteroid bounced off of the slug's hide, much to his amazement.

Joseem shook his head and decided on a new course of action. "Pilot, take us off the planned planetfall route. I want you to head towards the south pole. That will take us away from this threat. Once we are clear, get us back on track." The pilot, not taking his eyes off of the forward view screens, responded, "Yes Sir. Right away!"

As the LAAT swooped around on its new trajectory, Joseem opened a holo channel to the Prefect of Gamuslag. "Tsingtao" he said, "I am taking the boys on a field trip. Think you can keep up?" He could see the Prefect's wry smile start. "You crazy Zabrek! You won't get into this fight without me." Joseem looked out of the viewport and saw Tsingtao's X-wing angle over, blow through another enemy ship, then slide along into escort position.

Joseem moved away from the viewport and turned to the DACs. "Hold on to your helmets, nerfherders. This is going to get a little weird!"

Lehon Space

Space above Lehon was a warzone with flashes of laser light billowing in all directions. The Final Way was barely holding together from the concentrated fire from the fleet of ghost ships that had spawned seemingly out of nowhere. The Heresiarch, a mammoth Star Destroyer as large as the Harbinger itself, continued to belch volley after volley of green death. It was all the loyalist starfighter wings could do to hold back the bombing runs from the phantom fleets conjured by the traitors’ profane and arcane weaponry.

True to its name the Violator streaked through the battle zone, penetrating the enemy lines, screened by the banks of laser cannons housed on the two corvettes of the Kangaras fleet. But where the loyalists had flesh and blood the traitors’ had a seemingly endless wave of starfighters, flown by whatever foul arts the sorcerer had at his disposal. When one exploded another disgorged from the belly of one of the phantom fleet, joining again in a battle of attrition which the loyalists could not hope to win in a direct battle.

Their hopes all rested in the team currently onboard the Harbinger, all chances of breaking through the traitors’ lines depending on the destruction of whatever foul devices were generating the illusions. The Harbinger itself had practically been disabled, its own weapon systems taken out of the battle as it diverted all power to shielding, but still it hung there, guarding all entrance to the surface.

Despite their weakness, the Star Destroyer’s starfighter screen seemed to be piloted by utter madmen with no value for their own life. They had turned into kamikaze bombers, several of the doomed assault fighters making suicide runs against the corvettes masking the Violator’s passage. A fighter managed to penetrate one of the corvette’s shields, smashing through its outer hull and shredding the ship’s shield generator with a shriek of twisting metal before the starfighter finally exploded.

The giant exogorths continued to swim around the Harbinger making short work of entire starfighters, literally swallowing them whole and spitting out balls of mangled steel. Between them, more than a dozen of the Final Way’s X-wings had been destroyed, forcing two of the squadrons to reorganise their wing and group up together in a new attack formation.

The Heretic Sun was battling the ghost ships that had been lost two years ago at Antei. The Wandering Soul and the Foresight were both continuing the assault, all attempts to stop them seemingly in vain. While the Final Way held the mighty Heresiarch at bay, once the flagship of Master Zorrixor long ago, the Vae Victus had moved through the enemy lines into position to flank the Harbinger, providing its beleaguered command ship with support, helping hold off the two assault corvettes which had thus far managed to evade the massive exogorths. The former flagship of the Obelisk fleet looked as if it even carried the burns of its time in service, reproduced perfectly like a true mirror image of the ship that had once fought during the campaigns at Coratua.

One of the exogorths suddenly broke off from the Harbinger, catching scent of something passing through their lines. It barrelled toward the shieldless Adjudicator, literally slamming into the corvette head first, headbutting the ship aside. Catching sight of the Violator and her small fleet of gunships, the exogorths roared, its face bleeding from the impact with the corvette as it charged toward the yacht, its gaping maw opening wide to bare its giant fangs . . .

ISD-II Harbinger
Hangar Bay



A whisper had touched the alchemist's consciousness as the Kirili artist had approached with the bomb. Shivers ran up his back in the mental image as the voices whispered "Protect!" in an eerie chorus. Time seemed to slow as the Sith felt his body move in concert with the Force. Macron assumed the fifth circle of defense of Teras Kasi instinctively and keyed the lock-down mode of the armor suit.

The madman raised his helm and lightsaber a moment before the detonator blew. He slammed every erg of hate he possessed in his entire body into drawing upon the Force. The Force absorbed some of the energy, and the Warlord used it to cushion his body with a wall of fear and hate-born telekinetic strength. There was no one he hated more than the ones who had betrayed him, and their minions. And Macron hated them with true and devout passion.

As Mononoke covered his head with the Mandalorian Iron laced Armor Fist, the shockwave detonated. It vibrated every molecule of his body, raising the external temperature of the cracked armor to a ridiculous degree. The Force wall collapsed, and so did the battlesuit.

The Cohort vaporized on the other side in a shocking display of violence. His teeth gritted and lips were pulled back in a silent snarl as the white light consumed the man and peeled his flesh away and blew it into flaming ash.

Purple light consumed Macron's vision as he was engulfed in pure baradium fury. "I cannot die here..." swam the thoughts of Macron's secondary mind. His normal consciousness had been knocked out when the blast detonated, and the only thing that saved him was the Dark-Side. He lay crumpled on the floor, covered in a black smoking egg-shell that used to be Sith Armor. "There is only passion..." echoed through his mind. "Through passion I gain power."

"MACRON!" echoed through the room as he turned over with a groan.

Over the battle din he dimly saw his friends swinging their searing blades against the Obsidian Cohort. More foes fell, and Naiia was grazed by a blaster shot on the right shoulder. The DAC troopers had a sniper rifle team out, and one of the traitorous Cohort dropped from the catwalk as the searing high-powered bolt struck him in the left eye. They dropped behind the crate and readied a grenade.

Mononoke's burnt features shriveled slightly as he was embraced by his Dark mistress. His flesh began to knit as he groaned with the sweet pain. The Dark Side embraced him in cold invisible caresses as he twitched on the bulkhead floor.

Bits of fried armor clattered on the floor as he rose with agony to his knees. The Sith dropped his ruined lightsaber with a snarl. "I'm not ready to die just yet," he hissed as he flexed the still functional Armor Fist. Even a badly hurt Krayt is still a danger to the Bantha herd, he thought as he was consumed with unholy fury. "And I can't die until I kill my former Master. It's the Sith Way," he gasped as he puked a little blood and stood. "I'll kill you all with my body. I am SITH!" he gurgled.

XJ3-Wing Star Fighter
Lehon Space

Tsingtao banked his ship left and right avoiding debris, asteroids, and slugs. He made a mental note to recommend an accommodation to the pilot of the LAAT. He has made some impressive maneuvers to get to the planet. On occasion, Tsingtao noticed some fighters following on his radar and had to loop back to engage.

The LAAT entered the atmosphere ahead of Tsingtao. He saw the ship change direction to the designated landing zone. The foils on the XJ3-Wing started to close as Tsingtao made the descent into the planet's atmosphere. He let out a brief sigh of relief when his radar was all clear. "R6, take me to the landing zone," he said to the astromech droid. The star fighter turned towards the direction the LAAT headed.

As he was coming up to the landing zone, R6 chirped a warning of incoming enemy fighters. He quickly turned away for the landing zone hoping to throw off the incoming fighters. They had taken the bait and started to pursue him. Radar was detailing four TIE Fighters, but if there were in a close formation, it would have been harder to say. "R6, set shield to full, double front.," the Sith Warrior ordered as he brought his fighter about. Targeting the closest possible Tie Fighter, he set his XJ3-Wing to full throttle. As he got closer, the radar changed its display to show 6 TIE Fighters. He cursed to himself, but he still liked his odds.

The TIE Fighters came into range as Tsingtao barrelled his ship into their formation. Flashes of green energy bolts launched from the TIE Fighters some finding their marks. Tsingtao opened fire on his selected target. One thing he loved going against TIEs were their lack of shielding. As the first fighter exploded, he turned the fighter towards the next. Maneuvering in the atmosphere was harder than in space. The closest TIE Fighters had little chance of escaping the onslaught Tsingtao was unloading.

R6 whistled a few warning to its pilot, displaying the shield levels and his laser's energy cell. "Frak," he said to himself and as swung his ship away from the remaining TIE Fighters. "R6, transfer all power from the laser to the shields, put as much in our six as possible." Even though he took out half of the TIEs in combat, he sustain his fair share of damage. "Take us to the landing zone.

"Tsingtao to Joseem. I heading in hot, and I have a few univited guest." the prefect yelled into his comm link.

The comm link returned a brief moment of static before a familiar voice responded. "Acknowledged. Come on in. We have a surprise for the trespassers. Joseem out!"

Soaring his way to the landing zone, the TIE Fighters were closing in on their prey. Tsingtao saw three flashes of light in front of him as he was hit by the laser bolts. Rockets from the LAAT were fired at the incoming TIE Fighters. They all found their mark but the damage was done. Tsingtao fought the controls but it was no use. His fighter was going down.

"R6, abandon ship." The droid jettison from his station above the landing zone. The droid's boosters activated to slow its descent towards the landing zone. Tsingtao jerked the controls back trying to level the ship. Within seconds the ship would crash in the jungle.

Urati Kazinal
Temple of Lost Souls
Lehon


He seeks to supplant you, my son.... Trevarus walked through a narrow corridor. He had summoned a globe of white light that hovered in front of him, guiding his way. Out of nothing, Lord Orian began to walk beside him.

The mysteries of this ancient world are well known to me, Lord Caerick. I might have led you to Consummation many years ago, yet the quest has tempered your Will. You are the Heir to my legacy.

"The quest has been long, my Lord. Yet I have achieved an understanding. There are no answers. Merely questions." Trevarus replied, his fingers tracing a subtle inscription in runes he did not recognize. It almost resembled graffiti. Black dust had settled into the grooves carved into white stone, and at his touch it cleared. Oblique lighting from his source heightened the contrast, making the words seem potent, even harsh.

That you seek questions belays your quest. Your Apprentice has merely siphoned what you learned. True, you have left much to his own discovery, yet you have tipped your hand too often. I was with you at Antei when the Multitude attacked. Your surrendered your life to the man who would overcome you. That was weak.

"The Dragon is not to be trifled with, my Lord. Shan Long is as much me, as I him. His existence is necessary to allow my exploration of the Construct, free from deepest emotions."

You locked away what you could not control, yet the prisoner is always most restless. In a moment of weakness, your Brother will claim his birthright.

"I know, my Lord. I have foreseen the Dragon Ascendent." Trevarus stared at Lord Orian's shade. The Spirit seemed to shift for a moment, as if uneasy.

You welcome oblivion?

"Didn't you? My intellect is sufficient to overcome mere Rage. The Dragon will devour me, yet I will devour the Dragon. A symbol you ought to recognize..." Trevarus flashed out with the Amulet, craving a glyph in the white stone. Orian watched as if fascinated. In the space of a few moments, he had carved a deep intaglio of an Ouroborus. Lightning seemed to pulse around the sign.

The Dragon devours its own tail. Orian responded. You foresee your death, and the Dragon's death.

"You were quite correct to say that I locked away the power of the Dragon. This I do not deny. He was chained, until I could control him. There can be no integration until I die. In my death... and his death... I will overcome."

My son.... look through that door.

Perhaps a scant ten meters to their fore, a section of wall had begun to seperate, rumbling a faint noise through an opening that revealed flickering red light.

You should investigate

Turning a supicious eye towards the specter, he quickened his pace. Edging carefully towards the new path, a lightsaber appeared in his left hand. He was prepared to make a quick kill of whatever maglignant energy waited for him through the door.

Instead, he found a carefully appointed study. The light was from a softly flickering fire roaring underneath a wide mantle. Two high-backed chairs were arranged in silhouette. He could see a tall decanter filled with brownish-red liquid reflecting orange notes. Smoke issued from the chair to his left.

"Its about time you made it, have a seat." A faceless voice said. Cautiously, Trevarus ignited his lightsaber and moved forward. A shadowed figure stood as he entered the room, it held a tumbler glittering with ice and a finger or two of the liquor.

"How many years has it been, Trevarus?" The figure asked.

Taking a few more steps forward, Trevarus brandished his weapon menacingly. There was merely a slight laugh. "I see you have perfected the lightsaber, holding your lightsaber in the forbidden stance of the Trakata. Your blade is a work of art, a true hallmark of Sith construction."

"You would know, Father." Trevarus said, nearly dropping his lightsaber in sheer disbelief. This was an illusion, a trick of this ancient place.

"Indeed I would, son. I was ridiculed and held under high suspicion by the Jedi Council for my research into Sith teachings and practices... yet I never fell to the Dark Side. Perhaps my obsession spilled over to you."

Alaerus Caerick was a tall, proud man. In this form, he wore the simple robes of a Jedi Master, his lightsaber, which Trevarus had lost on Capitha many decades ago hung at his waist. His teeth glittered white, it was the same caustic grin that Trevarus bore to this day. The old man's eyes were a deep grey. Trevarus had inherited his mother's eyes, of the deepest sapphire.

"Forty years ago you avenged the death of your mother and I. For forty years I have watched you become a man... and a monster. She never forgave you, as I have." Alaerus said, motioning for Trevarus to take a seat in the other chair. It was perhaps an exact replica of the seats in the many halls and offices of Trevarus. He favored particular arrangements, and as Trevarus' memory served him, they were a product of long discussions with his father in the Jedi Master's study. High backed, deeply cushioned chairs set around small tables. It was an intimate setting, a means to entice deep discussion and candor. Trevarus sat, his lightsaber deactivated.

"May I?" Asked Alaerus.

The Sorcerer passed one half of his demonic lightsaber to the shade of his father, who studied it intently in both hands, turning the weapon to and fore, his fingers tracing intricate details. "You have perfected the art of crystal transference. Darksabers of millenia past have not carried the majesty of this weapon. It is truly the product of your twisted soul."

"Why are you here, father?" Trevarus asked, suspicion inherent in his voice.

"I have become one with the Force, or as you know it, the Essential Construct. I am here to tell you that there is no life or death... there is only decision. You still have a choice. Turn back, my son."

"Never, Father. I will ascend. I have overcome the Enigmas... Ther Herald of Sorrow had divined the true path. I am the Final Order."

"Carina wanted to see you... I convinced her otherwise. To see you in this state would have destroyed her soul." Alaerus said, pouring Trevarus a glass of bourbon over shimmering ice. He passed it to Trevarus, who smelled the ambrosial aroma before taking a sip.

"Corellian Whiskey, Coronet Reserve.... circa 50 BBY" Trevarus said, almost to himself.

"Don't think for a moment that I didn't know you were sneaking drinks out of my bar while secretly reading my Sith manuscripts. I knew. I tried to guide you, yet I failed. You succumbed to anger." The spirit-man raised a wistful salute, and drained his glass.

"I did not succumb, father. I claimed my right."

The ghost nodded. "So you did. I will admit, that your life since the murders of your mother and I has been a drama unparalleled. You have claimed secrets long since forgotten. Your gift for languages has served you well." Alaerus passed back the lightsaber. "And I should say, you have surpassed even me in the arts of the most noble of weapons."

"It is the place of Apprentice to overcome Master." Trevarus said evenly.

With that, the man laughed. "Indeed it is. You are the Apprentice of the Dragon, know it or not. And the being you call Apprentice, the Falleen... he is not your true Apprentice."

"You are not Sith, Krath... you are of no label. You have mastered arts of Sorcery that I only studied from a theoretical model. I tell you, your Apprentice is the spirit that has slept in your body for ten years. You have been its Master, and it your dutiful Apprentice. Yes, you have taught Xanos Zorrixor... but he has not truely learned from you. The edict of Darth Bane applies to you. The Dragon embodies power, and you crave it my son. Yet, you Mastered the Dragon, and it succumbed to your will."

"Turn back now, or the Dragon will overcome its Master."

"This is why you told me the legends of Alain Caer." Trevarus said. Something had connected in the depths of his subconcious. He had mastered power, while denying it. Now to embrace power, he would be forced to be mastered by it. A paradox unfolded.

"You finally understand."

Trevarus drew another draught of the whiskey. It was potent, warming his soul as much as his lips. He felt a flush.

"I am Sorrow, Father. Along the Path of Seven, I have suffered a thousand deaths. Each time I lost love... each time I united my spirit, peace was denied me. Now, at the end... I will have peace. Carina, you, my mother; none will stand before the power of my will... and the nothingness of oblivion."

"In my command, there will be no conflict. Only stillness."

The ghost smiled faintly. "That is the way of your will, my son. Trevarus, it is not too late for you. Abandon your hate. Remember your mother. She burns in the latent fires of suffering. She loved you more than you could ever know... and your suffering has caused her to burn."

"When I Consummate... there will be no more suffering... only the Void. If my will brings peace to my mother, then I will press forward." Trevarus said, adamantly. "I have carried fire on my right hand... and I see far beyond the Force. My will is the will of Life. I will take my place as God."

"Then my son is truely dead." Alaerus said.

"Yes, the lineage of Alain Caer is at an end."

With those words, Trevarus found himself in an empty chamber. It was devoid of all pretense of comfort. He was standing in the middle of a vast emptiness. White shone along all the walls, there were no carvings, no fire. Yet the taste of wood-caramel still clung to his lips. The smell of his father's cigar hung in the air.

Memories.

Trevarus exited, his mind churning with revelation.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon

Vexatus paused as he turned the next corner and found himself in a large oblong room. The walls were constructed of the same white stone bricks that had lined the entire temple and there were seven obelisks, six of them in a hexagonal arrangement with the seventh in the center. They each towered three or four meters, roughly reaching the level of the ceiling.

The inscriptions on the floor appeared slightly different to those on the walls and throughout the tight corridors. There appeared to have been some kind of arcane array carved into the stones, forming a series of lines that linked the seven obelisks. The Falleen had seen such patterns enough time in his studies with his Master to recognise a ritual chamber when he saw it.

The image of Darth Maestus shimmered before him. “Be alert,” she whispered before fading again.

The Falleen withdrew his lightsaber, gripping its hilt firmly as he moved inside the chamber. A crack of energy sounded behind and he spun, discovering another yellow force field had field like the one from the chamber with the ghostly apparition of the Rakatan emperor had formed blocking his path back.

Maestus’s voice echoed in his mind, There is no turning back, my apprentice.

Vexatus cautiously moved deeper inside the chamber, keeping his eyes and senses alert for any sign of danger. The air became still as a cold mist began to spill across the room, reaching up to the Falleen’s knees. Vexatus glanced around, looking for movement behind any of the obelisks. When he reached the central one he laid a hand on it, running a finger around a rune shaped like a circle.

A vaguely familiar voice rang out from behind him, “There you are!”

Vexatus turned, his crimson lightsaber snapping to life. There was nobody. In the shadows he could barely make anything out at all. The mist had begun to fill the room such that he could no longer even see the entrance through which he had entered.

The voice cried out again, though with a hint of something much more familiar. Anger. “I will stop you!”

Vexatus looked around. He felt a chill running up his spine as the temperature began to bite. He always had hated the cold. “Show yourself!” the Falleen hissed. He disliked cowards.

Another Falleen emerged from behind the central pillar. She wore a gray Jedi robe and had the same bright blue eyes he had once had. They were his mother’s. “Xanos!” his sister spat. She looked haggard and as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She was breathing heavily, her face covered in sweat. “I finally caught you!”

Vexatus frowned. “Xora,” he breathed, his mind doing somersaults. She had died. “You’re dead.”

The girl spat a laugh. “You only left me for dead, brother,” she spoke the word like a curse. “But we are more alike than you would think. Survival runs in the family.”

The Dark Lord thought back to when he had left his sister at the mercy of the Yuuzhan Vong. It had been for good reason. She knew he had fallen to the dark side. He could not afford her going back to the Jedi and telling them he still lived. It was better she die. So he had left her and joined his former master, Vykan, in travelling to Korriban to weather the war.

“What are you doing here?”

Xora’s eyes seemed to change, the blue fading as it became a palid shade of yellow. Unintentionally, Vexatus brought a hand up to stroke his own eye, remembering it as the colour his had been before they had finally turned to fire.

When Xora spoke, she spoke only hate, “I came here to kill you, brother.”

Xora’s eyes flashed with fire and a crimson blade appeared in her hand. She charged, rushing the Dark Lord with the power of raw passion. Darth Vexatus instinctively fell into Soresu, his lightsaber rising to block. The pair exchanged blows before Vexatus cleaved his weapon through his sister’s midsection and she fell and disappeared into the fog. He felt around with his foot but stopped when another voice cried out in the distance.

“Xora! Xora!”

He knew that voice. It was his apprentice’s. Taraeis Alaviel came rushing out of the distance through the mist. The girl he had once known was now a woman, as beautiful as any he had ever laid eyes on. The Arkanian carried a lightsaber, garbed in a traditional Jedi robe. Her face froze in shock when she laid eyes on Vexatus.

“Xanos?!”

He did not answer. What did he have to say? He had not spoken to Tara since she had betrayed him to the Jedi. If only she had kept her mouth shut. But the girl was too driven by her own hatred of the dark. She had understood nothing of power. Of vengeance. Justice.

Tara caught her breath before continuing, “Xanos? What are you doing here?” the woman asked hesitantly. She sounded cautious, she was obviously hiding something. “Did your sister pass through here?” It was not a question but an accusation.

Darth Vexatus shrugged. “I have not had a sister for a long time,” he answered, stating the truth as he believed it. As far as he was concerned Xora had died with his parents. The woman he had met three years ago had just been an imposter. She had betrayed him the same as all the rest.

Tara frowned. Vexatus could see she her hand was reaching for her lightsaber. He could sense her fear. “Xanos, why are you here?” There was actually concern in her voice. Her face seemed to turn sad. “It is never too late to turn back.”

There is no turning back. The words Darth Maestus had spoken only minutes ago echoed in his mind.

“You should not have come,” said Vexatus dryly. “You never understood.”

A hurtful look crossed the Arkanian’s face. “That you sought revenge? I always understood, Xanos. You know I lost my parents the same way.”

Vexatus sneered. “Do not mention my parents.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Tara insisted. There was a sense of urgency in her voice. “Turn back now!”

The Falleen scowled. “I am only doing what the rest of you are too weak to accept!” he shouted. “There is no other way!” The Dark Lord raised his lightsaber. “Get out of my way, Tara.”

Footsteps sounded in the distance and a much taller figure came into view. Tara’s face seemed to drop slightly, as if she knew only one thing could happen next. “I tried to tell you,” she said softly.

The massive figure of Renko Yast came into view. The Feeorin emerged from the same direction Tara had come. His lightsaber was already ignited. “Get away from him!” called the Jedi Master forcefully.

Tara glanced back at the huge Feeorin. “There is still light in him, Master Yast,” she urged. “It doesn’t have to be this way!”

With a flick of his fingers Vexatus raised his second lightsaber into his waiting palm. The crimson weapon came to life with another snap-hiss. “Listen to him, girl,” the Falleen spat. “Both of you leave while you still have the chance.”

Master Yast moved through to block Tara from her former master. “I won’t allow this to continue,” the Jedi Master said. “Your reign of evil ends here, my old apprentice.”

“Wrong choice,” Vexatus spat before he sprung.

The pair’s lightsabers clashed with a scream of protestation before they both moved with a fury that few could match. The Dark Lord weaved his twin blades like a dancer, moving with such elegance that Master Yast could only just keep up. The Feeorin shoved an elbow into the Falleen’s chest, winding Vexatus enough to follow through with his boot and throw the Dark Lord back.

A golden beam of light joined with the green and red. “I said run!” barked Yast.

“This is as much my fight as yours, Master.” The Feeorin shook his head but did not protest.

Vexatus snarled, leaping with renewed animosity to attack the two Jedi. Where the Feeorin fought with raw aggression and brutality, Taraeis wove her lightsaber with similar elegance to the Falleen himself. However, despite her skill, she was simply no match for the Dark Lord and Vexatus swung a blade in a horizontal slash the Arkanian had no hope of avoiding.

“No!” cried Yast as he rolled out of the block he was holding and fell into the swing of the Falleen’s other weapon. Vexatus felt the lightsaber as he tore right through his old Master’s rib cage, passing right through where his heart was before the Feeorin collapsed lifelessly to the floor.

Tara stepped back so that the mighty Jedi Master did not topple on top of her. Her face was a mask of horror when she looked up into the burning suns that had replaced her old master’s eyes. She did not even bother to raise her blade when Darth Vexatus cleaved her from shoulder to waist. Vexatus watched as a tear ran down her cheek before her body crumpled to the floor.

The mist began to clear leaving the Falleen standing in the middle of the seven obelisks. When he looked down there were no bodies at his feet only a thick pool of blood. In the distance he heard footsteps emerging from where another energy field blocked the doorway at the far side of the chamber. They were running toward him quickly.

“Butcher!” spat a man who the Falleen had never seen before. He wore robes identical to the Dark Lord’s. His eyes were burning with fire the same colour as the lightsaber he held in his hand. “You killed her!”

Darth Vexatus narrowed his eyes. He had killed many. “Who did I kill?”

“You killed her!” the man repeated without explaining, clearly lost to his rage. “I will destroy you!”

Vexatus was unprepared when the man rushed him with such unnatural speed he was unable to bring his lightsaber up to block. The phantom blade pierced his chest, burning through to his heart. Darth Vexatus thought he was about to die then realised the illusion was only that. It did not stop the man standing before him staring deep into his eyes and uttering “I will undo you.”

The phantom dissipated leaving Vexatus to his thoughts. The force field at the far end had disappeared and when he looked around there was no one else in the chamber. Apparently he had passed whatever test he had been set. Still, that last illusion had been new to him. He resolved to worry about it later. In a few hours there would be no more questions for he would know all.

Vexatus clipped his lightsabers back on his belt and continued through the chamber into the next corridor. He could hear the Heart beating ever so close now. The dawn of the Final Order was nearing.

Somewhere in the galaxy far, far away from Lehon
48 Hours Earlier

The last few months had not been pleasant for the Quaestor; ambushed, kidnapped and replaced. If that wasn’t enough he’d been drugged, beaten and had countless blood samples taken off him. Isradia groaned as he was dragged into the carbonite chamber.

“Well, it’s been a long few months but it’s all over now, Ashura,” said the men in his mid sixties, “to think that six hundred years of waiting has finally paid off in creating the perfect template for House Mecetti.

“My ancestors knew the risks to manipulate your Jedi heritage with a torturers training regime; to think that you even perfected it for us. This enhanced version you created will serve my House well. Soon with all the money stolen from the Dlarit Corporation, the Cloners will create a powerful Sith army for Mecetti to conquer this sector once and for all.

“And speaking of clones; yours has done a fine job… despite the enhancements that had to be make on it. It evaded detection long enough to finally send the transmission codes for the money transfers. With your Clan forces departed it’s been easier for us to get what we need.”

“What?” Groaned the Battlemaster as Ashura did not know of Vexatus and Caerick’s betrayal.

“Don’t try to talk boy…you’ll only make that bruised jaw hurt more. You’re just as stubborn as your mother, son. You did us a favour by killing her as I didn’t have too.”

“D-Don’t call me ‘son’, your not my father,” replied the bruised Dark Jedi.

“That’s true… Ashura Konden is dead; you don’t even show as having any of my DNA. You are truly the descendant of Jedi Seer Nar’del… oh, you never knew!” The man was laughing now at the kneeling Sith placed before him. “To think that old fool couldn't see that his bloodline would create the very thing he sought to stop.”

Rage boiled up within Ashura but the Dark Side didn’t flow through him; the drug was a type of Force inhibitor. He was no better than a mundane for the moment. “And don’t worry, we’ll figure out how to use Isradias DNA… its secrets wont stay hidden from my scientists for long. A way will be found to create clones from it.”

“Not possible; you’re either given it or born with it.” Said Ashura.

“Like that bastard son of yours?”

Ashura growled and was kicked in the head by one of the guards and then dragged onto the freezing platform; his body had undergone this many times but it still unsettling each time. “I doubt your clone will survive much longer with everything happening in the Orian system or within your Clan… it will think like you but subconsciously look to kill itself when the opportunity strikes. Everyone will think you’ll be dead… and a thief…”

“Do you want the freezing processes to last a week, sir?” The technician asked.

“No, put Isradia in cold storage for now and have him shipped to a place where no-one will find him.” The elderly man grinned as he looked at Ashura.

“I am going to kill you, Jared.” Promised the Sith.

Jared Konden laughed at his son’s empty threat and pushed the button. The freezing platform sank into the chamber and there gas was pumped in and mixed with molten carbonite into forming a solid block with Ashura Isradia trapped and hibernating inside; the perfect prison.

There was no stopping him now. He doubted anyone who saw Ashura’s clone would be able to notice the difference… If the clone was dead then even better; no-one would ever come looking for Ashura.

OOC: He's dead! He's alive? No... No... He's sleepig, the clone is dead who everyone should think is Ashura... what the hell is going on here... its a twist!!!

Space near Lehon
Personal Transport Shuttle

The shuttles engines slowly turned to a halt and the Shuttle itself drifted for a few hundred meters more untill gently coming to a halt and drifting along with various debris from ancient battles held long ago. It was said that the famed Darth Revan, who was more than once mentioned in the Shadow Academy books of ancient Sith Lords, used a factory built by the Rakata themselves to create a massive fleet and crush the Old Republic.

He should have finished the job.

Ylith opened his eyes, moving them to a mask lying on a desk before him. He took it in his hand and watched it, caressing the painting with his fingers gently. Then a flicker of an image flashed through his mind, the same mask grinning and showing it's fangs, corrupted, broken, evil.

He shook his head and ignored the images in his mind as just a bad dream, it has been ages since the Valheru had a moment to rest. Ever since he returned from the battle at Selen has he been gazed upon for what he had done. Eyes following him wherever he went, making note of every move he made. He closed his eyes for a moment and washed the bad thoughts from his mind and sat back.

"YLIF! YLIF I ARE BORED! I WANNA PWAY YLIF!" Nel shouted while running around the shuttle grabbing Ylith's sword and running in circles with it before falling flat onto her face.

"OW OW OW OW OW OW OW! YOU MEANIE!" Nel shouted and Ylith couldnt help but to chuckle and shake his head. He took a deep break and gazed into space and suddenly he felt cold steel pushed against his neck.

"So you did come along?" Ylith barely said it or Xathia was grinning.

"I cant let you go alone now can I? Besides, you need someone to watch your back, a Krath." She said with delight as she removed her dagger and placed it on her belt.

"My Master would be so delighted to hear that I am bossed around by another Krath." The Valheru said, meaning Sildrin, who has been a mentor to him ever since he joined Clan Naga Sadow and whom he vowed to protect whenever she needed him.

"Xathia..."

The Dark Jedi Knight glanced at Ylith, whose gaze suddenly turned to dead serious.

"When we land, I go alone. It is my fight." Ylith said silently and Xathia nodded, Nel sitting on her lap.

"I understand Ylith, do what you need to do, I'll await your return."

The Valheru closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, a moment of peace for the mind. Now he waited for the Clan to provide him passage so he could land safely, after that, he would be on his own. He smirked at the thought silently. His own Dark Jedi code running through his mind.

There is no fear, there is power.
There is no death, there is immortality.
There is no weakness, there is the Dark Side.

I am the Heart of Defiance.
I know no fear,
But rather I instill it in my enemies.

I am the destoyer of hope.
I have felt the power of the Dark Side.

I am the fire of vengeance.
All the Universe shall bow before me.

I pledge myself to the Darkness.
For I have found true life,
Within the death of light.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon

As Darth Vexatus moved through the Temple of Lost Souls it was fast becoming apparent the challenges left behind by the Rakata were not of the physical sort but the spiritual. The specter of the ancient Rakatan emperor had made the temple untouchable by those not possessing the will required to wield the power of the Heart of the Force.

Likewise, the illusions of Vexatus’s past, as well as perhaps future, for he still had not worked out who that last illusion had been of, would have destroyed the resolve of any weaker than he. He expected his Master was no doubt encountering a similar challenge elsewhere in the labyrinthine temple.

Reaching the end of the corridor Vexatus found a single solid white stone. It was engraved with the same inscriptions that repeated throughout the temple, no doubt arcane wards of some kind. He had discovered that earlier when he had attempted to cut his way through one of the locked doorways, only to quickly realise his lightsaber could not penetrate the stone.

Despite the slab blocking the corridor Vexatus was certain this was the right direction. He could practically feel the Heart pulsing with power beyond. He knew it. But the stone was unmovable. It was far too vast to ever hope to push aside by mere physical means and there were no grooves or handles with which he could activate any hidden mechanism.

The shimmering specter of Darth Maestus appeared beside him. Her face was practically glowing with power. There was an unrestrained look of craving in her eyes. The woman’s whole life and the thousands of years of her undeath had built up to this moment. Her words resonated in the Falleen’s ears.

There is but one last test, the witch said. In truth it was but a whisper but it felt so loud Vexatus was sure the entire galaxy would have heard it. She did not have to explain for the Dark Lord to understand what he must prove.

Power. There was no greater measure of worth.

The Dark Lord reached out and pushed with the Force on the stone. Long settled dust freed itself from the shallow inscriptions but the slab itself did not move. Vexatus reached out, the Mark on his forehead bursting with power as he pushed harder, pressing with all his resolve but still the slab did not budge. There was more at work here than mere weight. There was something else pressing back, a second will, resisting his efforts.

Prove yourself! cried Maestus.

Vexatus closed his eyes, the Mark still shimmering on his forward. He felt back to the moment of his birth in the grip of the Embrace of Pain. He remembered death and allowed the feeling to flood his senses. The memories of anger, hate and suffering. He felt it growing inside him as his very cells began to burn with the heat of the power pulsing through his veins. His body began to crackle and spark with unrestrained energy and he allowed the dark side to flow, building up to an inferno of raw energy.

Vexatus let go, screaming with such primal fury that the whole temple shook, dust shaking free and enveloping him in a thick cloud of black as he pushed out, a raw torrent of energy blasting forward as his fist slammed into the slab. Instantly the stone splintered into a million shards becoming little better than dust. The Falleen fell to his knees, gasping for breath as his cells continued to feel fire, the power of the dark side once more draining away while he recovered from the exertion.

When Vexatus looked up the Mark was still burning with light, causing the dust which had blown into the chamber beyond to glow a faint greyish-red colour. The Dark Lord moved through, still unable to make anything out other than the almost overpowering rush of the dark side that suddenly overcame him, blinding him to all other sensations.

The dust finally settled and Darth Vexatus found himself in a wide oval room, decorated in the same minimalist white bricks. There was an obelisk at either side. On the far wall the oblong bricks rounded into a large archway, runes he had never before seen, not in any of his Master’s books inscribed around the edges. But what kept his attention was inside the archway itself. There was a massive shimmering silver light, flowing as if it was liquid, more like some kind of veil than a wall.

Beside him, the spirit of Darth Maestus was roaring with laughter though he did not hear it. All he felt was the dark energy spilling outward through the silver portal. The pair stood in silence for several minutes until the ancient witch finally collected her thoughts.

I never thought I would see the day, whispered Maestus in awe. It is amazing.

Darth Vexatus stared at the silver portal shimmering inside the stone archway and tilted his head. “Master, consider me vexed,” the Falleen said cautiously, half expecting to learn the witch had betrayed him. “I thought the Heart was the remnant of a thought bomb?”

Maestus chuckled, her torn lips doing her best to mimic a slightly embarrassed smile. “Forgive me,” she said, still sounding somewhat awestruck. “I never expected to see a hypergate. The Rakata truly were masters beyond their time; beyond anyone’s time.”

Vexatus had a vague recollection of reading about hypergates having been part of the Gree Enclave. He surmised it was no surprise the Rakata had possessed the technology too. “Then the Heart is beyond the portal?”

The Sith witch’s face turned serious. She nodded. “Go. Fulfil your destiny, my apprentice.”

When Vexatus began to move across the chamber he became aware of a wet slurping sound coming from above him. When he looked up his eyes focused on a mass of creatures writhing across the ceiling. They appeared to be flat and vaguely oval shaped. Apart from a few, most were no larger than a thumb. He noticed they left a trail of slime where they slithered, slowly moving across the ceiling in his direction.

Run!

Maestus did not have time to explain. Vexatus responded instinctively, drawing the Force through his body as he broke into a sprint, racing across the chamber for the portal as fast as his legs could carry him. He heard a loud squelching sound and heard something that sounded like a handful of stones hitting the floor behind him. The silver archway loomed before him as he charged across the wide open chamber.

The Falleen felt one of the creatures hit his shoulder followed by a sudden burning sensation he could only assume was some kind of acid the parasite was secreting as it burned its way through his robes. Vexatus screamed, feeling another handful of the creatures falling across his right arm as he dived toward the shimmering portal. When his hands reached it he felt an icy cold engulf him, his entire body feeling as if he had fallen into a frozen lake as he felt himself wrenched forward, everything turning white as he experienced a sudden blinding sensation of being thrown through what he could only imagine was some dimension of hyperspace.

The Dark Lord felt the dirt hit him before his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Wherever he had come out he was no longer within the clinical white halls of the Temple of Lost Souls. The room seemed to be illuminated by a dim, flickering red light. The very ground beneath him seemed to be burning with heat and he was wincing reflexively from the pain of the crustaceans latched onto his arm. However, in that moment all that barely registered at the back of his mind. Right then his is eyes were fixed on the glowing black sphere hanging in the air before him.

THUMP-THUMP . . . THUMP-THUMP . . . THUMP-THUMP . . . THUMP-THUMP . . .

His harsh mocking laughter began to echo off the walls of the chamber.

Darth Vexatus had found the Heart of the Force.

The planet loomed larger then life before them, a gapping maw that threaten to swallow them whole. The nearness of it set her heart racing a bit. Some where nearby was her husband and brother.

The power from the planet grew stronger. She felt it pressing against her, suffocating her. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and ran in rivulets down her cheeks. Her vision grayed slightly and distorted a bit before going black.

Fire exploded into the night sky. Screams filled the air as chaos rang supreme. Some where a small child cried on his mother’s shoulder. The heat intensified as did the screams. Some where a city burned, some where people were dying, some where, the stench of death consumed many souls.

The Consul’s blurred vision returned a moment later. She shook it off and blinked a few times trying to figure out what had happened. She glanced over and saw the Overlord watching her curiously but said nothing as he watched the Lieutenant make an expert landing on the planet’s surface.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon


Deeply shaken would be the best description of Trevarus' mood. He was certain that the vision of his Father had been real. There could be no possible alternative. The power of the Rakata was not to be trifled with, yet he was a master of deception. That had not been a work of alterior sentience. He had encountered the spirit of Alaerus Caerick.

There had been admiration, there had been peace. There were the emanations of fatherly love. Certainly the ancient ghosts of this temple could have dredged his memories for such insight, but the Essential Construct revealed a specter out of time itself. In forty years had he forgotten his father.

Carina, he muttered.

There is something in you, Trev, something has changed. She said. His lightsaber was held loosely in her right hand, ignited. A shimmering red blade betrayed her features stained with tears. He remembered her belly, slightly swollen. His wife was obviously with child.

He was standing in the cabin of the frieghter he would later rename the Nighthawk. Still dressed in the cortosis armor he had designed after a beast of Corellian legend, the helmet was removed. He was unarmed, alone. How she had boarded was unknown to him. Krendan Taral was dead. None had observed the battle, the interrogation. For six days Trevarus had assaulted the Dark Jedi's mind. He knew where the secret burning in his heart orginated. He was being called to Eos.

"My husband is dead." Carina had said. Trevarus did not reply.

In a swift motion, she flashed his crimson blade through her midsection at the pubis. Trevarus winced imperceptively as he felt two lives blink into unity with the Force.

You have chosen, father." A nameless voice said. Trevarus recongized the voice as his own, yet knew what it was.

"ENOUGH!" The Sorcerer shouted. Immediately, the visions ceased.

He was reliving his past, at the consummation of his life's work. The Rakata had tested him.

Briefly, he shook his head. Insight was one thing, manipulation was another. He discerned the difference in his visions readily. Carina had not been present. His Mark glowed bloody-violet. The trace of their connection was long since severed. The connection of Alaerus was deemed inherent. Seek insight, seek wealth An allusion to the Tenebric Conclusions amused him.

Walking a few short meters from the open door where he had encountered his father, Trevarus found a door. It was seemingly sealed with a powerful ward. He traced a silver-enclosed fingertip across the rune-engraved surface. The characters were alien to him.

"Heran sin." He said. Nothing.

Moving his fingers across the engraved stone, Trevarus began to mutter. He incanted every sorcerous legend he could imagine.

This is the final test, my son. The voice, Lord Orian said calmly.

"I fear no riddle." Trevarus replied calmly. Instead, he opened the Mark. Closing his eyes, he muted the perception of mundane. A miasma of connections were presented to him. He was gifted, he was an artist at reading the Weavery. Untold thousands of Threads lead from this place to the farthest reaches of the Galaxy. He finally appreciated the reach of the Infinite Empire. Their actions had affected so many billions of trillions of lives. Observing this door in ten-million-billion years of extended possibility was akin to considering a knot tied from two-trillion strings. It was immense, it was impossible. Yet, in his hubris, Trevarus made a decision.

He simply sliced throught he knot.

He had once carved a legend on the vaunted Pillars of the Tower. On a long-distant world called Earth, a General named Alexander had been confronted with an ageless puzzle. The Gordian Knot. The General had vested his sword, and simply sliced through the hemp construct.

For the Prima, this was a Gordian Knot. He did not bother to untie the threads, and the limitless threads of possibility he had severed. At the moment he made the choice, he felt the death of thousands of beings. Consequence was a matter of situation. Trevarus understood this. For untold years, the Rakata had shaped the inherent future of nameless lives. Past choices, previous consequences. All undone by his Will. Possibility was a direct correlation of outcome and consequence. Trevarus unmade tens of thousands of years of circumstance.

Before him, a white stone door slid open with a noise like grinding stone.

Unafraid, he stepped through.

The image amazed him. A tall archway ten meters forward, carved of the same white stone, but seeming freestanding. The air between the stones seemed to shimmer like a veil. He recognized it at once.

"Lord Orian, I have read of the Hypergate. Is this what I perceive?"

Yes, it is. I have never seen such a construct myself, but I know of them. They are Rakatan. The Sith were infants compared to their understanding of the Dark Side. The ghost-Lord paused. "Caution, my son!"

Trevarus responded to a chittering on the ceiling. Black, oblong crustaceans seemed to form out of stone.

Flee!

Trevarus heeded Lord Orian's advice, and broke into a full sprint. Ten meters from the arch, he sensed the creatures proximity. Turning on his heels, and leaping high, he blasted the offending creature through the Dragon. He studied the burnt husk for a split second.

Orbalisk

"No, thank you."

A scant score of the parasites were encrouching. A bare moment later, Trevarus lept through the archway. He was not accustumed to fear.

THUMP THUMP... THUMP THUMP... THUMP THUMP...

Victory!

At the barest second that Trevarus had reappeared through the Hypergate, he sensed the proximity of his Apprentice. Lord Vexatus had appeared through a similair gate.

All too convenient Trevarus thought.

He sensed the Heart of the Force at the center of this wide chamber. Six Obelisk, slightly curved as talons centered an area unseen from a distance of three hundred meters at the radius. Vexatus was small at this distance, yet, the flare of his passion was mere moments away. Vexatus knew, Vexatus craved. This was the turning point.

"Two there shall be, no more, no less. One to embody power, the other to crave it."

In his desire, the Dragon screamed.

The pair dashed forward, Trevarus caught the eyes of Vexatus as they ran towards the beating pulse of the Heart of the Force. Here, in the Temple of Lost Souls, Consummation was at hand.

"WHO DARES DISTURB OUR SLUMBER?" An ageless voice cried out of the darkness, through the beating of the Heart.

Out of nothingness, a giant Wyrm appeared, growing as does a coil of smoke from a bed of embers. It struck the stone floor as the Elders approached. Master and Apprentice stood side by side.

"Our conflict is delayed for a moment, my Apprentice."

"So it would seem, my Master" Vexatus replied.

"Halt! By order of Overlord Astronicus Dlarit, you are to stand trial for Treason against the Sons of Sadow."

The pair turned, their attention momentarily distracted. Twelve Obelisk of the legendary Obelisk Iron Fist Brigade stood weapon weapons drawn. Heaven to the right, Hell to the left, the Angel of Death betweeen.

ISD-II Harbinger

The wounds caused from enemy fire brought tears of pain to the woman’s eyes as she regained consciousness. Sakura had been left for dead as the Dark Jedi crawled along the floor trying to get back on her feet.

She grabbed onto a control panel and pulled herself up. The woman started to painfully walk down the corridor. The battle to retake the Harbinger was in full swing and Clan forces were well on there way to victory. All Sakura cared about at the moment was finding her Master and hoping he was alive; so to see the deceased form of Ashura laying on the floor felt as if someone had reached in and tore out her heart.

“NO!”

Sakura pushed past the pain as she quickly got to the corpse of her fallen master. He looked different, he looked how she original knew him; the man who had freed her from the cruel grip of the Sith Warrior who had been part of the Emperor’s Hammer Dark Brotherhood. The woman emotional broke down as she dropped to her knees and sobbed on her dead master’s torso; her life was over.

Ashura Isradia made her into the woman she was today. He had been the only man she cared about; now there was a huge void… she didn’t know what to do… she didn’t know how to live without him. Ironic how she hated all men but one; she had been what he had made her to be… how he made her to think. That life had just died with the man who she grieved over. She wanted death; if she didn’t receive medical attention soon then she would join her master in oblivion.

---

I've updated Sakura Haruno's wikipage; you'll all be seeing more of her in Clan run-ons. Can someone come along and find her crying over the dead body and take her back to the Final Way for medical attention, as well as let everyone know "Ashura" is dead.

ISD-II Harbinger
Command Level

Wincing slightly, the hulk of a man moved through the silent corridor of the empty command quarters. Berks were devoid of human life, and Eosara was frankly not disturbed. He touched a hand to the wound in his flank, it would not stop bleeding. His face was a ragged mass of scabbed over flesh.

Just another scar.

He retrieved his communicator from a hidden pocket.

"Cabal Commanders, report."

"Beta Commander. We are down twenty. Orders."

"All Cabals immediately initiate emergency evacuation protocol. Gamma Commander is to retrieve the Prize."

"Copy, Obsidian Captain," was the response from Gamma Commander.

"Bring the Prize to command level, coding on my frequency. Initiate immediately. Once on the ground, all units will report."

Senat Trenth stood in the empty engineering level. He observed the crystal matix hesitantly. Though a mere soldier, he understood the artistry of his Master's work. His normal routine was to guard the Observatory of Kalekka Tower. There, he had witnessed rituals of such hellish design that it chilled his blood. Carefully, he reached into the squeals of crackling lightning and his black-armored hand closed around the black-blood red Sanguinus crystal. Electricity raised the hairs on the back of his neck, yet at his touch the energy-laden crystal shut down.

Urgently, he marched off to the command deck.


RSD Final Way
Bridge


Ariac Simonetti barked out orders. "The illusions have faded! All ion fire to the Harbinger!"


ISD-II Harbinger
Command Level


Three of the Cohort had escorted Gamma Commander from engineering. That was exactly as the protocol had required. Eosara relished the strict training of his soldiers. The will of his Master was well served.

Motioning quickly, they ducked into an escape pod. Specifically modified for a Flag Admiral, it was more of a shuttle than a simple drop pod. Eosara punched the controls, making the barest jump to Hyperspace before reverting. Lehon hung as a blue-green jewel below.

"We've escaped the Dlarits for a moment. Begin assembling reports on the evacuation protocol"

Planet Lehon
Surface

The Shuttle landed with a slight thud on the surface of Lehon and the ramp lowered slowly
allowing fresh air to fill the inside of the shuttle. Ylith walked out onto the sandy clearing they
landed on, the air thick and heavy as if they were in the middle of a jungle.

"I go alone from here.." Ylith said, eying the Volcano in the distance.

Xathia moved towards him and kissed him, lingering a moment, before strapping his Ultima Bracelet
onto his arm, his sword onto his belt next to his saber and then presented him his mask. The Valheru
eyed the attire and then pushed it back into her hands.

"I'll be back for this. I promise." Ylith said and Xathia nodded.

As the Battlemaster turned around to move towards the Vulcano a small hand tugged his robes.
"Ylif shouldn't go! Ylif should stay wif Nel!" The little droid said and Ylith smiled for a moment.

"I'll be back soon Nel."

Ylith then ran off into the woods, thick bushes between him and the prey he was after.

"Vexatus..."

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The Iron Fist stood ready, lightsabers drawn in an aggressive display of pure martial prowess. They each wore a standard black jump suit of the Dlarit Military, with most wearing armor plates on top, though some forgoing them in exchange for more mobility and perhaps a black cloak or shawl. The twelve Obelisk warriors of the elite battleteam looked every part what their reputation commanded.

Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus fell into Kirili, their lightsabers coming to life in a symphony of four simultaneous snap-hisses. Master and apprentice stood like mirror images, violet and crimson.

The gigantic wyrm roared.

Having long passed beyond the need for mere words, Master and apprentice fell into action. The pair twisted, pivoting toward the wyrm and hurling themselves in its direction. The great beast was coiled around the Heart itself, thrashing out with its great arms and claws. Its back was lined with the blisters of the fallen it had defeated, their souls visible inside, calling out for release.

The wyrm belched a river of bile as the pair flew through the air, the Force aiding them in their flight as they landed atop the giant beast’s head. The creature thrashed, uncoiling itself from the Heart as it began to slither around in defiance.

The Iron Fist had begun to move, charging across the vast expanse where their prey combated the massive creature. Lightsabers, both single and double, twirled as they approached, whirling their weapons in a dervish of pure death as they readied themselves for the kill.

“For Sadow!”

While the brigade charged, Trevarus and Vexatus savagely plunged their blades into the wyrm’s skull, stabbing again and again and again as the beast roared in agony, its great tail thrashing against the ancient floor, throwing great clouds of black soot up in the air. The pair descended into a raw frenzy, hacking at the beast until they were both dripping in the creature’s black blood.

The wyrm rolled, leaving a thick and pus filled trail of smile as it did. The Dark Jedi Masters were thrown off, separating them from the Iron Fist. The beast writhed between them, spewing acid and bile in all directions. Trevarus and Vexatus had robbed the great wyrm of its eyes, forcing it to roll blindly around the Heart. A heavy stream of bile drenched one of the Obelisk warriors. His flesh instantly turned to fire and the man screamed in utter agony, his skin burning off. The man clawed at his face as if trying to brush the acid from his eyes but instead he pulled his own eyes away like putty as they melted from the strength of the viscous liquid. The man fell to his knees, the last of his flesh melting before his skeleton hunched over on the ground.

The rest of the Iron Fist had paused to look at their comrade as he endured his final agonising moments. The Obelisk troopers all seemed to take a step back, backing away from the immense beast as its tail slammed on the ground in front.

Trevarus and Vexatus had renewed their attack. Leaping and jumping across the wyrm’s giant body, slashing and slicing at every gaping sore and blister along the creature’s immense frame. The wyrm was becoming drenched in its own blood black. It was beginning to thrash more wildly, reeling back and forth as if trying to shake the two flies from its back but to no avail. With each thrash, the Dark Jedi Masters moved, changing position to plunge their lightsabers into another meter of open flesh.

While the Iron Fish looked on in a mix of resolve and terror, Trevarus and Vexatus leapt once more for the creature’s head. Together the pair allowed their fury to take over, both of them becoming a whirlwind of red and violet, tearing at the beast’s flesh. After another minute, Master and apprentice both leapt from the wyrm’s head, landing elegantly on either side of the Heart. The wyrm thrashed one final death throe before it fell silent, its thick body rolling to the side, bleeding across the chamber.

Trevarus turned to face the remaining eleven members of the Iron Fist brigade. Unbelievably, he winked.

Then both Master and apprentice charged once more.

Planet Lehon
Upper Atmosphere

Joseem's LAAT made it's way into the atmosphere of Lehon. The planet was simply beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The only thing that took away from this paradise were the remains of whatever had been part of the whole that the surrounding debris field was made from.

As he scanned the jungle, he saw exactly what he was looking for, a plume of black smoke rising into the air. That was where Tsingtao had crashed. The moment it happened, he felt it through The Force. Joseem once again stretched out with his feelings and emotions and "felt" Tsingtao. He was in pain, that much was certain, but there was something else...embarassment. How very odd, Joseem thought.

Joseem turned to his pilot and said, "Set us down on that beach on the lea side of the debris. We will have to walk to where the Prefect is. Something tells me that an air rescue would have complications." The pilot, without taking his eyes off of his instruments simply replied, "Yes Sir!".

Planet Lehon
Jungle

Joseem ran as fast as he could. He needed to put lessen the distance between himself and the Rancor. The damn thing had already wasted two of his men. Good thing the DACs had improved training, otherwise he would have lost them as well. Joseem always thought it was best to put the grunts first, to test the waters, so to speak. As usual, he was not disappointed.

Thesh kneeled and sent a volley of fire and retribution at the beast. The Rancor howled as it was pushed back, but a few seconds later it fell, dead. Joseem had moved faster then the DACs could see after Thesh had fired. He rode the beast down to the ground and once there, pulled his lightsaber from the Rancor's head. "Ok, stop looking at me like it was your first time. We have a Prefect to pick-up.", he said.

As they made their way into the clearing that had been carved by the xwing on it's crash landing approach, Joseem heard another Rancor. This one was not coming after him, but it was certainly angry. As the beast moved, he saw Tsingtao in all his fury. It wasn't just one Rancor but two! Tsingtao had cut the legs off of one of the Rancors and was now circling for a better attack on the other. The beast bellowed and lunged, but Tsingtao brough green lightaber fire down on one of the offending claws. Joseem moved as the claw went sailing past him and his DACs scattered. Joseem turned around in time to see the Prefect jab his saber into the eye of the horror. It fell with a sickly crunch and Tsingtao landed nimbly beside it.

Joseem got a good look at his friend. Tsingtao had survived the crash, that was evident, but it had taken its tole. Tsingtao's face was a mass of cuts. Most of it would become scar tissue, the damage was so bad. Joseem turned to one of the men with him. "Krill," he said, "Get the Prefect patched up so that he doesn't bleed to death."

Tsingtao clipped his saber to his belt and accepted the bacta-impregnated bandages that Krill was administering. "About time you got here! I almost went on without you." he said. Joseem looked at his friend for a second. He understood now what the embarassment was from. Tsingtao knew the extent of the damage his face had received, and it bothered him. Well, this was no time for coddling. "Well, I can have Krill fit you with a diaper as well, with all the whining you are doing." Tsingtao heard the remark for what it was, the play of words that warriors have when their camraderie is all they have. "Fine", he said, "As soon as Krill finishes, let's get going"....

ISD-II Harbinger
Hangar Bay


“Arrrghgrr!” screamed the alchemist as he stomped on an injured Cohort’s neck, cracking the bones with the Force-aided pistoning stomp. The Armor Fist slammed into the faceplate of another with an Echani spear hand attack, and Macron closed his fingers. The whine of the servos increased as he tore the man’s jaw and lower helmet from his body, flinging it to the floor with a slop of spilled blood and muscle tissue. He laughed at the gurgling red tongue now hanging from the jawless bloody face as the Cohort fell.

“I”LL KILL ALL OF YOU MY OWN DAMN SELF!” Macron screamed as the red rage took him entirely. “I DON”T NEED YOUR FRACKING MASTER!”

Tsainetomo looked concerned. The battle had been very difficult until this point, with the three of them, the droids and the DAC troopers bottled up in the Hangar Bay. Macron looked to have been blown up, and now this raging bloody hulk before him was nearly out of control with Force-fueled rage. Things did not look so good.

Just then his comlink opened.
“Projections gone… open with all ion batteries!” came across the main channels. The ship gave a lurch and the lights flickered as the combined might of the Sadowite guns began to hammer the vessel relentlessly from outside.

The Cohorts seemed to check their comlinks, and began withdrawing. Several ran for one of the nearby transports as Tsainetomo looked on. He decided to have a bit of fun with them- and his maniacal friend. “Macron!” he shouted as the blood and gore encrusted madman looked at him with stark feral eyes and sanguine fluids dripping from his burnt visage. “They said your momma was a Gungan-lover!”

The Sith roared in animalistic anger, turning to the escapees and fixed them with his hatred. He ran the few meters in a blast of Force-borne speed, and plowed into the three Cohorts as the Dark Side empowered his body with awful strength. One arm was squeezed free from the body of a Cohort with the Armor Fist, and Macron began to swing it around him like a meaty club, caving in skulls and breaking bones. “Hahahaha!” he giggled loudly and licked his lips as the sweet blood sprayed across his contorted face. “Vexatus! I’m coming for YOU!” he screamed with rage.

“Pudu, he’s gone completely around the bend,” muttered the Archpriest as he ran with Naiia to the nearby corridor. “Naiia, we have to secure this area so the troops from the Harbinger can board. I’m sure Mac will keep the ones behind us busy. Now lets’… say, do you recognize that woman?”

“I don’t,” replied Naiia. “Wait. I have seen her before in the cantina. Her name is Sakura, and she looks hurt.”

Both Dark Jedi ran ahead, catching up to the woman as she leaned over the body. “Ashura,” gasped the Rollmaster as he reached out with the Force. “He’s dead. Better radio the Final Way and have them send a med-evac.”

“Must smash crystals, hahahaha!” echoed from the corridor as rapid-fire bootsteps ran toward them. The bloody Sith apparition rushed by them, still clutching the now tattered arm with bits of crimson and yellow bone peeking out of the end. He yanked open a panel and began to flail with the detached limb inside it as he screamed with insane laughter. “Smash!” Sparks flew as the panel shut down, and the madman ran down the hall to the next one.

“And some sedatives,” muttered Naiia as she opened her comlink and looked down the corridor at her Master. “I’ve never seen him like this. He’s way out of control.”

“Agreed,” said Tsianetomo as he handed a flask of water to the girl. “Having a thermal detonator blow up in your face will do that, I imagine,” he replied dryly. “We’ve got to get him sobered up and down to the surface. Give me a hand, will you?” he asked as he pulled out a narco-dart injector. “We’ll get him and the girl here back to the Nachzerer for transport below. He can’t keep that up for much longer before he crashes.”

Urati Kazinal
Lehon

They were alone, except for the corona of power and the rotting dead.

Muz crouched over the hulking corpse, sable eyes dissecting the threads of the past. The creature's entrails were still hot. Shin'ichi made a noise like a kicked refresher, forgetting to turn his vocabulator off as he coughed at the stench of death. Muz cracked his neck and stood up, eyes glazing over the trail of dead. They had been marching for some time now, and the pulsation of the Force had all but blinded the Equite's sense of direction. At least this ...thing... was proof that they were on the right trail.

Shin grew more agitated, his eyes shifting restlessly as the Krath Lord moved past him, following the trail of raw power. Muz paused, standing next to the fellow son of Sadow for a moment, letting a simple thought drift from the master's cruel mind.

Whatever you think you are here to do, stand not between me and my prey.

Shin blinked harshly. Muz had never spoken to him in such a way. Things slid into place, strange rumors dismissed as lies, that the Lion of Tarthos had merged with the monster within him, the one that they called Ashen. Shin stared, feeling the emanations from the Heart of the Force and from the two Lords of the Force that were there on Lehon with it.

Long had the Equite sought power, quietly had he pursued it, standing along the way as people passed them by in their own strivings. Shin had seen apprentices fresh from the Shadow Academy blossom into Equites and pass him by into the ranks of the Elders, and each time, it rankled him. Jealousy nipped at the edges of his mind, distracting him, maddening his already wicked resolve.

The heart was here, make no mistake. And even if it meant burning his soul from his body in it's power, Shin would taste the truth. He would know the will of the Force.

Muz stepped quickly, leaving his half-brother behind to soak in his own plans. He felt along the threads, drawing himself closer to the cusp of it all. The heretic would have sprung his trap on Caerick by now. Muz felt his sabers fill his palms, his body preparing for the combat subconsciously.

Shin snapped out of thought for a second, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his brother arming himself. "This is more than Betrayal, brother. What has Vexatus done?"

Muz turned slowly, looking at the Pontifex slowly. "Who named Xanos?"

Shin looked confused for a moment.

"What did he really 'foresee' about Antei?" Muz continued, cruelty tinging his voice.

"But Trevarus... He can control him."

Muz laughed.

Trevarus can barely control himself. He'll not be able to control a Sith Lord.

The words slid into the Pontifex's mind, worming its way through his madness, driving the Abomination into a near frenzy. Shin strained to keep his own monster sheathed, knowing full well the consequences otherwise.

Then what did you plan to do?

I have something to teach them both about Power and Control.

Shin nodded slowly, truly recognizing the change in his brother for the first time since the Vong War. He contemplated his words carefully, then sent the thought back to the Krath Lord.

If they haven't taught it to each other already.

Jungle
Planet Lehon

Tsingtao was exhausted as he sat there getting medical aid. Of all the luck, he crashes in near two Rancors. Fortunately for him, they fought each other to see who was going to devour the Sith Warrior. He thanked Krill for patching him up, but knew it was time to go.

Tsingtao reached for his comm link. “R6, are you at the LZ?” He heard a series of whistles from the other end. “Good. Activated the homing beacon and we’ll be there shortly. Has the Kiba landed?” R6 replied a negative.

He turned to Joseem,”We are a few clicks away from the LZ. Let’s head back to the LAAT.”

The Zabrak nodded and turn towards the DACs. “Thesh, you take the point. Krill, Shen you cover the rear. Zerek, you are with me and the Commander.”

The two Sith and the four DAC troopers made there way back to the LAAT. Krill at the point held up his hand in a fist signaling for the group to stop in their track. He pumped his fist in the air. The rest of the team made there way to Krill.

“Report.” Tsingtao whispered to the team. Without turning around, Krill replied, “The LAAT, Commander. It has been destroyed.”

The team cautiously made their way to the wreckage. The ship was not blasted but torn apart. Without turning away from the ship, Tsingtao addressed the team, “Gather what you can, we are leaving in 5.”

Joseem walked up to the Prefect, “What seems the matter, my friend?”

“We are being hunted.” Tsingtao replied gravely. A roar in the background filled the air. “And she is not happy.”

Jungle
Planet Lehon

Agrist was making his way through the jungle quietly. It was good to get off that damned ship once in a while even if this was just a recon. The small group of three D:SOG troopers fanned out around him. "Keep an out out for any hostiles." he ordered.
"Yes sir," the corporal replied.
Agrist stopped. "I sense something." he said, hand on his saber.
"Sir?" the corporal asked, raising his rifle. A second later he fell twitching to the ground, a blaster bolt searing through his chest. Agrist scanned the trees, seeking out the source of the blast.
A second later he was knocked flying as a heavy creature hit him on the back, driving him to the floor. As he struggled to rise he heard two shots fired followed by the familiar snap of a saber and two dull thuds.
"Home!" a voice called and the pressure left his back.

He pushed himself to his feet and regarded the other Battlelord calmly, then glanced at the dead troopers, and at Gmork who was sat at his masters feet.. "Malisane."
Malisane smiled. "I thought we needed to speak alone."
Agrist snarled. "You followed us."
"Not difficult," Malisane replied, "after years living on Kangaras this is just like home."
"Why?"
"You're a loose end," Malisane replied, "you poked your nose in where it wasn't wanted."
"Like Imgormiel?" Agrist asked.
"Yes just like Imgormiel."
"And you killed him?"
"Indeed. He had outlived his usefullness. I'm suprised you care." Malisane commented curiously.
"I don't," Agrist replied, "however your plans concern me."
"Really?" Malisane replied, "and what exactly do you think you know?"
"I know about Severak," Agrist replied, "it's not exactly hard to piece it together."
Malisane nodded. "Well done."
"The why is puzzling me though," the mercenary asked, "he is unstable, he tried to kill you."
"He failed," Malisane replied, "and things have changed."
"So what has he offered you?" Agrist pressed.
"You think I'd tell you?"
"Yes," Agrist replied glancing at Gmork who was sat quietly still, "I think you want to. You've just given up a big advantage for a conversation."

Malisane studied him. "Very well, I wanted to talk to you."
Agrist smiled grimly. "This is where you promise me a glorious future if I join you and your father? The answer is no. Severak is insane, and my future is here."
"Your future is to nursemaid Simonetti and his crew aboard the Final Way. They'll never trust you with a Summit position, given your history and your connection to Vexatus. Hardly fullfilling for one of your ambition. Severak offers so much more."
"Go to hell De Ath," Agrist replied calmly, "the answer is no. Do you have anything else to say?"
Malisane sighed. "Your attitude is disapointing." he replied.
Agrist ignited his saber. "You bore me, come on man your job is to try and kill me now. Who is first you or the dog? Or both?"
Malisane raised his own. "I can handle you alone. Gmork stay!"
The two Battlelords circled each other, then Malisane leapt forward to strike at Agrist's chest. Agrist parried calmly, then sliced back. The two didn't speak as they began to trade blows.

OOC-I know I'm on sabbatical currently but I want to play out Malisane's final acts in the Brotherhood. Just a few innoculous posts that shouldn't rark anyone up. Mal

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The giant hulk of the dead wyrm lingered in the background as the two Dark Jedi Masters charged the remaining members of the Obelisk brigade, the power of the Heart enveloping them. Two more of the troopers were fighting to brush off acid where it had sprayed from the mouth of the great beast. Much to their credit, the other members of the Iron Fist did not hesitate, leaving their distracted comrades to be the first to fall before the twin blades of the sorcerer and his apprentice.

The remaining nine members of the Iron Fist fanned out in a circle around Trevarus and Vexatus. The commander, marked out by the silver edging to his black chest plate, twirled his dual lightsabers aggressively, daring the two traitors to try. Beside him, one of the other members glowed in azure light from the double blades of his immense light staff.

Vexatus sneered. He was going to enjoy this.

Master and apprentice flew into action simultaneously, their movements linked on some unspoken subconscious level. Like a pair of pack hunters, they charged, Vexatus going right, Trevarus left. They moved with a grace testament to the years, the decades spent fighting side by side. Master and apprentice; apprentice and Master, it was hard to truly distinguish them anymore.

The Iron Fist commander snarled in anger, charging forward to meet the pair. The man never had a chance. He brought a barrier of energy up around himself instinctively, preparing to ward off any dark arts the pair would throw at him but they never came. Master and apprentice moved with pure predatory skill, the brigade leader never having time to move as his body was torn apart by a savage sequence of cuts and thrusts as the pair passed him.

While the commander’s body collapsed to the floor in pieces the pair turned, Vexatus stepping toward the remaining four to their right, Trevarus the four to their left. Vexatus pushed out suddenly, hurling a wave of energy at the four troopers before him. Bursting through their defences, the shockwave blasted two of the troopers away, one of them spiralling through the air. There was a splash before a traumatic scream followed by a sizzle. A whiff of burning meat swept through the air.

The Falleen smiled with relish. The remaining two troopers standing before him hurled a string of expletives before the Dark Lord charged them. A thin bolt of blue white lightning lanced toward him, but his lightsaber absorbed it with barely a second thought. Vexatus leapt, flipping through the air to land behind the trooper who had conjured it. The man turned, his lightsaber swiping across the Falleen's shoulder only to uselessly glance off the creatures latched onto his arm. Vexatus glanced down for the briefest of instances, a twisted grin crossing his lips before he looked up at the man's shocked face, swiping horizontally to sever him clean through the midsection. With a gentle push, the trooper's body toppled over in two halves.

The last of the four troopers began to take a cautious step backward. Behind them, the sorcerer was rapidly dismantling the four troopers of his own. In the distance, Vexatus saw the second trooper he had blasted away beginning to get back to his feet, his helmet shattered and the armor plating across his chest utterly destroyed from the sheer force of the kinetic blast.

Vexatus smirked in the man’s direction, a look that outright said Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you.

The Dark Lord charged the man directly in front, behind him listening to the terrified screams as his Master silenced one of the other troopers once and for all. Five to go.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


It seemed as if a barest of moments. Loyalty had been tested, images of valour and grandeur smeared across the pagest of ancient parchment. Here was a segment of the history of Clan Naga Sadow. Irony would only be more fitting if the Night Hawks had tracked them down first.

Trevarus slashed his shoto across in a horizontal arc to deflect the blade of a lone trooper. He sensed imminence. Leaping high, he twisted headlong into the ground, twirling his lightsabers tight to his body as a diver. Two more fell dead as Trevarus rolled into a tight somersault as he connected with the smooth marble floors of the chamber.

The three remaining troopers backed off, regrouping in a last stand. This would be their Thermopylae. They closed into a tight rank, Lightsabers vested in a barrier. They would fight as Obelisk, they would die as Obelisk.

Master and Apprentice turned in the same instance. Trevarus nodded his head quickly, Vexatus responded. Divide and conquer.

With a brusque motion of his chin, Trevarus flung the central warrior away. A faint scream could be heard as he fell over the edge of the chasm. Intoxicating smells of burning flesh drifted from the lava below as the warrior was consumed by molten stone. Together, they leapt forward. Screaming primal rage, his eyes shimmering hellishly violet, Trevarus let loose the fury of his Will. In a thunderclap, his right handed lightsaber disappeared. Quickly, the second shut down, and the Master crouched low. He began to move, playing with his prey.

In quick succession, Lord Caerick appeared at the warrior's left and right, each time his lightsaber flashed to life, allowing the Trooper to parry his strike. He vanished again, reappearing to strike from behind, and then from the fore.

Vexatus snarled. "Kill it already!" The Sith Lord had cut down the second-to-last warrior after a mere moment.

"In due time, my Apprentice." Trevarus said, cracking away, before reppearing. "I'm out of practise in the art of Long Shan Zhi"

"Then call for Thunder and be done with it."

The lone Trooper was bewildered by the exchange, but kept up the fight heroically. At the final second, Trevarus appeared on top of the Trooper, tackling him to the floor. With a flash of his hand, he pulled the helmet off the Warrior's face. His violet-black lightsaber hovered imperiously close to the man's throat.

"What is your name. Your eyes are familiar to me."

The Trooper's eyes narrowed. "Just kill me already! FOR SADOW!"

"Oh, I will kill you. The question merely is... how long will it take?" Trevarus sneered. "Again, what is your name?" The Master lanced into the Trooper with a fury unknown to mere protein nervous systems. Instictively, the Trooper cried out.

"Johan Beriss!"

"I thought so. Sejj Beriss was your father."

"YES! JUST KILL ME!"

"As you wish." Trevarus leapt backwards, off his position prone over the pinned body of the warrior. Raising his hand, Johan Beriss flew bodily into the air. Vexatus watched, fascinated as time seemed to stand still, each second playing out as a hologram in slow motion. The Trooper, hanging in midair, Trevarus leaping high faster than any eye could perceive. The violet flash as the Death Crimson peirced the heart of the Trooper in midair. Trevarus driving the body down, pinning it to the cold stone as a nail driven into a crucified victim.

Smirking, Trevarus stood, his eyes only faintly blue, surrounded by a corona of shimmering violet rage.

"That was quite brutal, my Master." Vexatus said, amused.

"Come, let us examine our prize."

With the last of the Iron Fist dead the core of Urati Kazinal fell silent but for the heavy pulses of the black crystal. Trevarus and Vexatus both raised their arms to rub their faces clear of the black blood of the great wyrm still lying behind them, lifeless. There was a heady smell of rotting flesh as the beast was slowly consumed by its own toxins, a pool of pus and bile beginning to form where it lay.

Trevarus glanced briefly at the handful of creatures latched onto his apprentice’s arm. The sorcerer gave a lopsided grin and shook his head. “Not quick enough, my apprentice?” he said light heartedly.

Vexatus grimaced as his attention was brought back from the rush which had been fuelling him since he had first plunged into the icy lake of whatever dimension he had been hurled through by the hypergate. Now that he had time to think, the Falleen winced, feeling the thousands of tiny teeth burrowing into his arm and the searing pain of the acid melting his flesh.

The Falleen attempted to prise one of the crustaceans off his arm only to realise it was a very bad decision. A sudden sharp pang shot through him as the creature only dug in deeper, refusing to be dislodged. He suddenly felt a brief sensation of light headedness, apparently having been poisoned. The creatures had apparently burrowed right through his muscles and latched directly onto the bone. The feeling was beyond words, it was excruciating.

“Don’t bother,” said his Master in a slightly mocking tone. “You won’t get them off. I'm surprised you don't know of the Orbalisk”

Darth Vexatus scowled, staring at the parasites that clung to his flesh. He was nearly considering cutting his arm off and growing a new one. For the first time he was thankful for having gone through the Embrace of Pain. He was sure anyone else would have passed out from the pain.

The Falleen sighed and pushed the agony out of his mind. He could worry about removing the parasites later. By now Trevarus had turned and was admiring the Heart of the Force. It hung there in the center of the chamber, a pale, glowing oblong nearly four meters in height. The surface was neither solid nor liquid and shadows seemed to swirl beneath the shimmering metallic surface in a gentle, hypnotic rhythm as if the Heart slumbered. The air itself was heavy, the atmosphere electric with the raw anticipation of the two dark lords.

“Is it not captivating, my apprentice?” said Trevarus as the pair neared, their lightsabers once again sheathed in the calm before the inevitable storm that was to come. They both knew it. It had been inevitable from the day the pair had first met. It had only ever been a matter of when and where. The why had never been in doubt: it had only ever been about power.

Trevarus felt compelled to draw closer, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt equal parts captivated and terrified. It was like staring into the heart of the Du’san Boundary only far more concentrated, far more intense. The sorcerer could not tell how much was merely his own euphoria at having finally found the goal of his life’s work and how much was due to the silent currents of raw power emanating from the Heart itself like a heartbeat.

Both unable to stop themselves, the pair each pressed a hand against the surface. The Heart was like a cold fire, searing their hands, but neither acknowledged the pain. The shadows swimming beneath their hands coalesced into two solid masses and the faint whispers of hate and despair and longing for release flooded their minds. It would have been overpowering for any others.

Their bodies sought to pull away but their wills pressed forward, the pair thrusting their hands inside, plunging into the black depths. The whispers erupted into a cacophony of torment. They were not the cries of sentient beings but howls of primal, mindless fury, their spirits shattered countless millennia ago, ripped apart by the cosmic power of the ancient thought bomb’s explosion.

The echoes sought to pull the pair down with them into the everlasting abyss but they pulled free, shredding the tattered spirits further still, casting them back within their eternal prison before the pair’s minds returned to the chamber deep within the Temple of Lost Souls. Trevarus smirked, lost souls? After thirty millennia they were finally about to be found. This was a homecoming.

Trev laughed weakly. “Strange,” the man said. “I have seen this moment more times in my mind than I can say but I still did not expect it to be so beautiful.” When he turned, there was a sombre smile on his face. Trev sighed.

An image of a Falleen flashed through his mind’s eye, he was much younger than he was now. Trev had known the Falleen from his visions long before they first met. He remembered how the first time he had placed a hand on the other’s shoulder an image had flashed through his mind, one of two burning red suns being joined by a third, followed by a blistering white light then darkness. The sorcerer had woken dreaming of it countless times in the years since.

It was the vision of his death. He had known this from the first time he had experienced it. The sorcerer looked across as the burning suns that were his apprentice’s eyes. He had known all along.

“You know happens now,” Trev said sombrely. He smiled faintly and spoke the final line of the creed of ruin, the forbidden tenet which had led them here, “There is nothing only me.” The words came quietly. Though Trevarus Caerick did not fear death he had searched every portent to discover an answer which did come down to this but there were none. Only one thing could happen now.

Two there can be; no more, no less. One to embody the power, the other to crave it.

There was no other way. Deep inside, he could hear the Dragon laughing.

Snap-hiss.

Four lightsabers came to life almost simultaneously. Two black-violet; two crimson.

The Mark on the Falleen’s forehead shone the colour of blood. A grim but resolute expression crossed his face. “You have been a good Master, Trevarus Caerick.”

“And you an apprentice,” Trev said, and leapt. "Whatever the outcome, it will only lead to the fulfillment of Will" Trevarus said, leaping high.

Darth Vexatus met him in the air.

Sable and crimson crossed and the orb behind echoed their lightning with a wail of despair. The Dragon was awakening to full consciousness. Somewhere deep inside, over the snarling energy of their lightsabers, Vexatus heard the Thunder scream. For a moment, he was afraid. Only for a moment. Vexatus was the Dark Lord of the Sith. A Krath Heretic would not supplant him.

The Battle of Lehon had begun...

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Lord Caerick and Lord Vexatus landed in a shrieking tangle of lightsaber blades. Vexatus was attacking low, striking for his Master’s kidney hoping to bring the fight to a quick end but Caerick blocked it with his shoto, knocking the blade aside. The Krath copied the attack, aiming low, his blade sinking a few centimeters before the Falleen spun aside.

Vexatus growled in pain but instead of being slowed he drew on it, feeding on it to drive himself faster. He followed through with a roundhouse kick, landing a heavy blow on the sorcerer’s chest. Caerick stumbled back, his face tightening in pain as he felt one of his ribs snap. But like the Sith he kept moving. Pain was nothing to either of them anymore.

A storm of lightsabers flashed as blow after blow was exchanged. Blade-to-blade, they were identical. Each leap was met with an attack already there, each kick was sidestepped, each punch blocked. After thousands of hours of sparring, they knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than lovers; they were complementary halves of a single warrior. The Heart roared behind them, its gentle heartbeat having become a pounding inferno. The spirits of those trapped inside appeared around them, hundreds, perhaps thousands of them beginning to circle Sith and Krath. The shades watched intensely, their own futures hanging in the balance. They had slumbered tens of thousands of years for it to come down to a battle between brothers.

Caerick was flanking Vexatus before he realised it. A fury of light blows rained across his back. The Falleen slid forwards, turning as he went to begin blocking the lightning speed attacks but the sorcerer was gone again, his body shifting away again as if it was made of smoke. Perhaps it was. There were mysteries the sorcerer knew that the Falleen had never expected him to part with.

Realising the illusion for what it was, the Falleen pivoted, spinning back around to catch the twin blows that he already knew would be coming to end him. Four lightsabers met in a blinding protest. Vexatus leapt, using the sorcerer’s chest to push off, throwing himself backward to build some distance. Caerick cried out, cursing at the pain that came as his newly broken rib scratched across his lung. But he did not stop. He was there before the Falleen landed, moving swifter than air.

Caerick launched himself at his apprentice, the pair coming together with a blinding flurry of sparks, their blades colliding like lightning, lightsabers twisting in a whirlwind of colour. Sith and Krath were as one. They were no longer two fighting. They were one entity vying for dominance. The Dragon screamed, the sorcerer hesitating momentarily to allow the Falleen to sink one of his blades into his thigh. It sunk deep before Caerick twisted away, driving himself onward despite the excruciating fire now arcing through his leg. A lesser man would have passed out from the pain.

The fight moved as the chamber roared with collision after collision. Unexpectedly, Vexatus winced, his leg coming up suddenly from the sharp pain as he felt his foot burning. He spared a split second to glance down, realising he had trodden in a splash of the vitriolic bile of the monstrous wyrm. The second's hesitation cost him his jaw, the sorcerer’s elbow coming up under his chin, he could hear the sound of bone cracking at the same time he felt the pain tear through his body. Despite the pain, the Falleen let loose a primal roar that literally blasted his Master across the chamber.

Caerick slammed inelegantly across the floor, rolling roughly as he banged heavily into one of the fallen Obelisk warriors, his neck snapping back causing his head to slam painfully into the man's body armour. Pain was shooting through him where the collision had torn skin clean off his arm, leaving only muscle. He must have slid through a puddle of acid as well for he was forced to quickly discard his upper tunic which was rapidly burning away. With a crack of displaced air he was attacking again, flanking his apprentice and raining blow after blow as their blades collided again.

The Lehon Jungle

Agrist backed off carefully, parrying and deflecting Malisane’s blows as the other Sith relentlessly tried to beat his defence down across the jungle floor. There was little subtlety in the former Prefect’s attack, just savage aggression combined with a deadly skill. Agrist wasn’t an easy opponent though, and each time he sent Malisane’s thrust or strike wide he flicked back a quick attack of his own that sent Malisane’s blade into an instant block. Gmork the hound watched with red eyes, desperate to assist his master but obedient.

Agrist backed off further, content for now to give ground, he could hear a river roaring behind him and quickly considered some way of using it to his advantage. Malisane meanwhile was more cautious now, tried a new tactic and sent his saber whirling towards the other equite. Agrist leapt aside and righted himself just in time for a foot to smash into his chest, pitching him backwards sending his own saber spinning away.

Malisane aimed a powerful kick at the fallen mercenary’s stomach but Agrist was faster and rolled away, trying to find space. A foot kicked out catching Malisane’s ankle and it was the former Quaestor’s turn to hit the ground. Agrist scrambled forward, reaching for a dagger in his belt and slashed at the other Sith. Malisane’s hand snaked out and caught Agrist’s own, and his superior strength beat the hand against the jungle floor forcing the mercenary to drop the weapon. A second later Malisane was on top of him, his weight pinning Agrist down and hands reaching for his throat, intending to choke the life out of his opponent.

Agrist’s eye glinted briefly and he concentrated lashing out with the force, sending waves of pain from his own body through Malisane’s. A second later Agrist’s knee shot up into his opponent’s groin, adding to Malisane’s discomfort. Agrist pushed the stunned Sith off him and rolled away, coming to his feet as he reached out his hand, his hilt landing smoothly in it.

He hacked downwards at Malisane, intending to end it there and then. Malisane glanced up at him and made a subtle movement with his arm, and Agrist saw the glint of the holdout blaster’s barrel a second before a blaster bolt seared towards his face, the mercenary’s soresu just catching it, before moving the blade downwards to block a second. The third scythed along the mercenaries shoulder, causing him a stab of pain which he controlled.

Malisane was on his feet now, still firing as his free hand reached out and caught the white bladed saber, and he faced the mercenary once more. He was breathing heavily. “You fight well,” he said quietly.
Agrist shrugged. “True.” He wasn’t entering into any sort of word games.
A faint smile touched Malisane’s lips at the his former colleagues gruffness. A second later his blade arched out again as he moved forward, and Agrist leapt backwards bringing his saber up and deflecting the blade along his own. Malisane snarled and attacked, pushing

Agrist back towards the river he could see rushing by. Agrist could sense its closeness and backed off further, down the muddy bank with Malisane following . Agrist’s eye glanced around and his senses penetrated his surroundings, until he found what he wanted. With a wave of his free hand he wrenched a tree against its rotten roots and sent it toppling across the river, as Malisane leapt backwards, unsure where the tree was landing.

Agrist seized the moment and backed off across the improvised bridge. Malisane accepted the unspoken challenge and followed, his saber flicking out in quick strikes that Agrist deflected and countered, still backing off as they fought. Suddenly he felt a shaking beneath them causing both men to desperately widen their stance as the tree broke free of the bank and began to drift down the river. With a snarl Gmork, who had silently padded after them, began to run along the bank following the two Sith as they continued their battle on the accelerating raft.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The chamber flashed as the fight moved toward the fast decomposing wyrm.

Lord Caerick was a burning nova in the Force, the dark side pumping through his veins as he fought to hold off the pain, forcing himself to keep walking despite the deep wound to his left thigh. He had sunk deep into the movements of Kirili, his actions having become little more than pure instinct and decades of memorised motor functions. The Krath had all but forgotten the broken rib that continued to rub painfully against his right lung.

The Falleen was no better off. Lord Vexatus was moving like a whirlwind of crimson light. His months of cruel torture at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong had returned, for the first time not as a bane but a boon. Despite his broken jaw and gashed kidney, the Sith had given absolutely no ground. His mind was blind to the pain that had burned the skin right off his left foot as he continued to walk, having become a raw furnace of dark energies.

Caerick leapt, Vexatus following automatically as the battle moved atop the carcass of the rotting wyrm. The pair weaved their way between the immense blisters on the beast’s back, sidestepping attacks while simultaneously avoiding the potent acid around their feet. Catching an opening, Vexatus batted a sable-coloured lightsaber aside, moving between his Master’s defences and throwing his entire body weight into a thrust. His elbow landed, driving Caerick backward. The sorcerer stumbled back for but a second, righting himself and unleashing a flurry of blows with renewed vigour that forced Vexatus to give a few meters ground.

There were no words as blows continued to be traded atop the fallen beast. The spirits swirled overhead, continuing to watch the fight that literally held the fate of their souls in the balance. The sombre expressions on their faces said it all. It made no difference which won for they had already lost regardless. At the forefront, the specters of Lord Orian and Lady Maestus had joined the doomed Rakatan wraiths, looks of pure lust across their faces for they knew they had both won.

This was not light against dark, sword against shield; this was simply shadow against shadow. There could be no salvation for the lost souls. The battle was already won. The coming shadow could not be stopped. The only thing left was who would reign supreme over the new empire to end all empires, who would become the true Herald of the Final Order? Master or apprentice; apprentice or Master? There was no difference anymore. Krath had become Sith and Sith had become Krath. There were no more Orders, no more titles, no more boundaries. They had surpassed all mundane labels. They were Ascendants. Elders in every sense.

This was a battle of will, nothing more. The culmination of the Final Way was inevitable.

Vexatus neared the head of the great beast. His arm stung where the orbalisks had burrowed beneath his flesh. He was sure the dark side was only encouraging them further. Not that he noticed. Not here, not now. He had become the dark side. His arm was only another weapon to be used. As the twin blades of midnight black came at him he shoved forward, using his arm to catch one of the attacks, elbowing Caerick’s arm aside while using his shoto to deflect the second blade.

The Falleen followed through by hurling himself into his Master, sending the pair flying over the edge. In the air their blades rained crimson and violet fury upon each other once more before they both hit the ground, spinning instinctively to parry simultaneous thrusts from the other. For a brief moment their lightsabers locked, shoto against lightsaber, lightsaber against shoto. Atop Caerick’s head, the Mark flashed open. A blinding light disoriented Vexatus for a split second, long enough for the sorcerer to land a glancing blow across his apprentice’s chest. Vexatus slid back, feeling the heat as it burned a diagonal rift across his ribs. It was not life threatening but the fire still fed his pain further.

Feeding off it, Vexatus cried murder before charging once more.

Transport Nachzerer
In Descent to Lehon

"Wha... happened?" asked the madman as he came back to consciousness. The bay swam in and out, his vision heavily distorted by the drugs and bacta.

"You freaked out," replied Naiia. "You beat six men to death with their own torn-off limbs. We had to drug you and get you in the ship," she replied as she checked a bandage. "You almost burned yourself out and died back there."

"I see," muttered Macron. "I lost my armor and then my self-control, apparently. Unfortunately, it is both a weakness and a strength for me. Strong of body, but weak of mind, my apprentice. Now you know one of my secrets."

Naiia paused for a second as she checked the bacta drip going into Macron's veins. Never before had she seen him show weakness. "Master, you told me once to make your weaknesses a strength," she said thoughtfully. "May I humbly suggest you do the same?"

A coughing chuckle came from the gurney as he tried to laugh. "And so the learner becomes the teacher," he rasped. "Good. What happened to the DAC troopers? And my lightsaber?" He could clearly see the still sleeping form of the abomination he called a pet at the rear of the bay.

"Your blade was ruined, but I recovered the Corusca crystal for you as they are nearly indestructible. The troopers stayed aboard to join with the other boarders. The boarding operation seems to be going well from what Sai said," she replied. "We'll be planetside in 20 minutes."

"Indeed. I can use my backup red saber then. I must mediate and repair this weakened body," remarked the Warlord as he closed his watery yellow eyes. "And purge those drugs. They are not very clean. Next time, if you two decide to slip me a mickey, I request something more appropriate," he chuckled as he dropped into a hibernation state.

The internal comlink opened in the bay with an echo. "Descent in 15 minutes," remarked Tsianetomo. "How is he?"

"Doing well, but a bit humbled. And he requested better sedatives next time," she said with a grin as she turned to the medical readout.

"Cheeky bastard," replied the Archpriest with a sigh of relief.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


Screams of primal rage flooded the Master. He felt exhuberant. He felt alive. This was a battle decades foreshadowed. Here was the culmination of so many sessions of education and combat. His Apprentice was breaking free. Trevarus scoffed at the idea of mere labels of Order. There was no Order here, only chaos finely distilled to be an expression of Will against Will. As Vexatus charged, Trevarus leapt high, powering his decision into the Force itself.

He soared into the high vaulted chamber, his Apprentice following him. Thier lightsabers flashed sable and crimson. Where Vexatus had slapped away his primary lightsaber, Trevarus had not bothered to call it back. Instead, Shield used the immortal amulet of his right arm as a primary defense. The Relic of Lord Orian flashed against the form Trevarus had taught his Apprentice. They circled, flashing and sputtering rage high above the Heart of the Force. His body ached, and he relished the pain. It gave him feelings of alive. Even if he was about to die.

The Dragon snarled.

Trevarus steeled his eyes, and advanced on Vexatus. Fighting in midair, their actions played out in a full sphere of possible movement. Trevarus swooped low, driving his shoto upward in a quick thrust. Vexatus caught the blade, and swiped downward. Trevarus disappeared, and struck from behind. Vexatus had already parried the blow before it had landed. They had spent the better part of two decades exploring the Force. Deception was impossible in the heat of combat. More than married, more than life. Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus were one. This battle could only end in death. That conclusion would only happen through sheer luck, or surrender. Neither man would surrender to the other.

Parrying yet another blow from the twisted Falleen, Trevarus reared back in flight, holding his right arm out.

"CREO IGNEUM!" He shouted. From their distance of some scant meters, a wall of flame erupted from the Amulet of Orian. Trevarus spoke more words, diving forward. The flames he had summoned took on a characteristic like a bird of prey. Vexatus found himself caught in flaming talons, as fire tore at his flesh. Great burning tore already wounded flesh. The smell of burning hide began to fill the chamber, yet still the Sith Lord drove forward.

Twisting in midair, Vexatus raised his hands, and the giant phoenix reverted on the Sorcerer. Trevarus felt a wave of heat wash over him, burning the hair from his head, searing his flesh. He cried out as the fire gave him strength. Memories of pain driving him forward. For a man who had born fire for the better part of his life, this heat was nothing.

Rearing back, he settled on one of the talon-like pillars that surrounded the Heart. Across the way, Vexatus had followed him, standing at ready with both lightsabers vested. Moments faded into lifetimes as the pair eyed each other from across the distance that might have been lightyears, or closer than the embrace of newlyweds.

Perhaps there was no difference.

In a crack of displaced air, the broken form of Trevarus Caerick dispersed his lightsaber. He raised both hands, his rage coursed down his arms, through each hand, and out his fingertips. He screamed the cry of triumph. He called for the Rage that was his soul to be given tangible form. Energy seared across the void, striking forward to the Falleen who responded in turn. His own flashing energy raged forward. Lightning met lightning directly over the Heart of the Force. Rage, agony, betrayal and loyalty. Every emotion, every desire was culminated in the clash of their wills. As each poured hatred into the massing electrical storm, it grew stronger.

The Core of Kazinal Urati seemed lighted by a full sun. Blue-white illumination filled the chamber with an unearthly glow of raw power. The shades of the Dead swirled around the pair, standing over the vibrating pulse of the Heart.

Breaking his concentration would be death. So instead, Trevarus opened his Mark. The Prima would overcome a mere Secunda. In that split second, the power shifted, and Vexatus was consumed in the inferno of electrical energy. Panting, Trevarus stood, his bald head smoking from fire. His eyes blazed blue-violet, his chest ached, and his body screamed for vengeance. If Vexatus didn't kill him, this battle would.

Unbelievably, from the crater smoking far below, the Fallen emerged, lightsabers flashing again. In a thunderclap, Trevarus summoned his own twin blades. Leaping down in a telekinetic dive, Trevarus swooped at his Apprentice, and their battle began anew.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Lightsabers screamed in protest as Lord Vexatus continued his offensive against the man who had been his Master the past twelve years. Caerick had fallen into Trakata, abandoning the dual wielding form of Kirili with his second lightsaber lost somewhere across the other side of the vast chamber. He was wielding the Amulet of Orian like some kind of shield, holding his remaining shoto with his left hand while simultaneously deflecting incoming blows with his armored right fist.

His Master forced on the defensive, the Falleen was beginning to drive the sorcerer past the talon-like pillar from which the pair had fallen back toward the edge of the arena. The darkness flashed with blinding light as the pair continued to unleash their full fury upon each other, neither giving ground, neither surrendering despite the immense pain arcing through both of them.

They each fed on the pain. It was their strength, their purpose. Pain and suffering were the only truths of life. All life existed to die, to surrender to their will, there was nothing else, no other purpose. High above them Lord Orian and Lady Maestus watched the duel, savouring every blow, every echo of suffering reverberating through the Force. The culmination of their lives’ work was at hand.

Lord Caerick attacked relentlessly as his feet neared the edge of the precipice below which there was nothing but roaring fire. The heat rising from the volcanic fury beneath could be felt against his back, searing his naked flesh. Before him, the Falleen’s face was a horrific mask of blood and sweat but the fire only seemed to drive Vexatus on further, fuelling his hate.

Knowing he could not be pushed back any further, Caerick grappled his apprentice by the wrist, clamping down with the amulet and twisting Vexatus’s arm aside. The sorcerer thrust himself forward, keeping hold of his apprentice’s arm and holding his second weapon away while using his violet shoto to deflect the unceasing attacks from the other crimson lightsaber.

Vexatus grimaced as he felt the sorcerer bending his wrist to near breaking point, the strength of the amulet almost managing to crush his arm. He shifted his weight, forced to relent on his attacks for a moment in order to thrust himself off the ground, using his momentum to twist through the air and regain control of his arm. His movements were a split second too slow. The Falleen screamed as he felt the sorcerer’s remaining blade shear through his leg as he spun, taking his foot about the ankle. He tasted the smell of his own flesh when his foot hit the lava below and was devoured instantly by the flames.

The Falleen enraged, Caerick felt the invisible hand of his apprentice fall on his neck and felt his spine begin to twist. Having no other choice, the sorcerer gave ground, backing away to focus on fighting the pressure that threatened to snap his neck. Caerick screamed, pressing against the phantom grip with all his will to hold Vexatus back. It was too late when he realised the feint. It happened so quickly the sorcerer never had a chance to shift his guard. The grip on his neck ceased and his left arm disintegrated in a bloody explosion, Vexatus obliterating everything below his elbow from flesh, bone and tendon with a mere thought. The sorcerer did not see where his shoto went, the blade flying off into the darkness before he could react to call it back.

Lord Caerick screamed. The Mark on his forehead echoed his eyes as for a brief moment they burned with violet intensity. In the background he heard the Dragon roar, his will suddenly divided as he realised the attack on both fronts.

Falling back into Soresu, the one-armed sorcerer began to frantically parry his apprentice’s blows aside with only the amulet left for defence, his body beginning to move like some form of tornado. Darth Vexatus himself was grimacing with agony, balancing awkwardly on the stump that remained of his right leg. With the renewed burst of pain and fire consuming them both, their rage intensified as the battle continued, moving away from the edge of the pit back toward the Heart.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


There is no flesh, only will. Pain was the measure of mere skin and bone reacting to a conflict of the mind. The Sorcerer focused through deepest levels of hatred, yet even hate was nothing compared to his will to triumph. The Dragon roared, clawing with sharp talons at the back of his mind, tearing forward through memories and insight. Trevarus fought on. He must finish this battle before the ghost in his shell destroyed him. Then he could die, his Will overcoming the passionate rage of Thunder.

Pressing forward, he saw the broken body of Vexatus falter for a mere second, stumbling on the broken body of an Obelisk warrior. Faster than the eye could percieve, he raised his right hand.

Focusing, empowering, the violet gem began to glow with a fury of all hells. Lightning began to crackle as flames roared across his hand. Flashing in a chain of energy, roaring forward. Vexatus raised his lightsaber catching the storm on his crimson blade.

Trevarus screamed, his rage growing more potent. He channel even more will through his right hand, flames trailing with the lightning. Unholy fire riding lightning, crimson flame married to blue-white current. Vexatus raised his lightsaber even higher, grappling back with all his strength. The Falleen began to scream, he felt the new attack beginning to overpower him.

His Master was winning. This was impossible. Blood began to trickle down his forehead from a burst vein. Flames began to crawl down his lightsaber as fire and current overloaded the energy of the weapon. It grew hot in his hand as fire began to crackle along the hilt and his hand. Searing pain as flesh began to boil away. Staring in disbelief, his flesh blackened even further, White bone began to char black.

Fueling his will again, the Dragon tore even deeper. New rage poured out of the Master. His hand closed as Vexatus' lightsaber erupted in a flash of light. Vexatus stood still, stunned for a bare second. His right arm hung only as a mass of skeletal bone, seared black and held together by charred ligaments.

The Falleen raised his remaining lightsaber.

Stepping back into the Kirili, Trevarus responded. In a crack of displaced air, the Death Crimson reappared, both halves in their respective place. The long black-violet blade in his right hand, shimmering silver with the hurricane force of the Amulet. The stump of his left arm terminated, yet where he would have held the shoto in his left hand, it seemed to hover as if gripped invisibly. As Trevarus pressed his renewed attack, the lightsaber indeed moved as if it was held in an arm. There is no flesh, only will.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Lord Vexatus stared at the smouldering stump of bone that was left of his arm. His hand had been utterly cremated. All that remained of his lower arm was a blackened mess of singed muscle and ligaments. In the back of his mind he felt his rage growing. He was not going to be defeated. Not here. Not now. Not this close to absolute victory. He had not sacrificed everything for his Master to defeat him now.

The dark side began to wash over the Falleen. His orbalisk encrusted arm was beginning to thrash wildly as his movements became instinctive. His arm batted aside the blows that his Master rained down upon him from both violet-black blades. Darth Vexatus allowed his utter mastery of the way of the blade to take over, a red veil falling across his vision as he himself became the blade, his body becoming a living weapon.

The veins on the Falleen’s neck began to bulge, blood pouring freely from the cuts already covering his body. He hardly noticed the pain that shot through him every time he put weight on the stump that remained at the base of his right leg, balancing on it as if he had used a prosthetic limb his entire life. He had completely forgotten about the kidney he had lost and the fact his jaw hung loose from where it had been broken. His entire body began to glow as he gave himself over fully. His twin eyes began to burn with the full fury of Chaos itself.

When the sorcerer swung his shoto, held in the invisible hand of his will it met the blackened bone at the end of the Falleen’s arm. The air itself seemed to shimmer, an ear splitting screech like a fingernail scratching a chalk board pierced the air. Where Vexatus should have lost the rest of his arm, instead a barrier of energy the same shade as the sable lightsaber flashed for the briefest of moments, parrying the shoto harmlessly away.

The sorcerer’s eyes opened, the faint violet haze that was beginning to fall over them becoming evident as he stared in silent disbelief for a split second. In the air above, Darth Maestus howled with laughter. Lord Caerick renewed his attack, hammering against his apprentice again, blade being deflected by both crimson blaze and phantom shield. Vexatus’s arm itself had become a weapon, a focus from which to channel his rage, concentrating his pain into a metaphysical barrier of pure willpower. He would not be stopped. He could not allow it. He would not allow. He willed it. With every clash the air around the stump of bone shimmered with sable darkness.

Sword and shield struck again as the pair continued to move back across the arena, retracing their steps past the simmering carcass of the gargantuan beast, moving toward the glowing black orb at the center of the core chamber. The two Dark Jedi Masters had ceased to exist. They had become pure embodiments of will. Their flesh was but a vessel. Their will was eternal. Around them the storm followed, the swirling cyclone of spirits circling them as they went, a thousand sets of eyes transfixed on their movements.

As the Falleen forced his Master back he watched the sorcerer as his face seemed to contort through an entire lifetime of expressions. His eyes flashed with energy, one icy blue, one blinding violet. In the Force the Krath felt like a battlefield. His very essence seemed to be at war with itself.

But Lord Caerick continued to hold both monsters at bay; both inside and out. He would not allow himself to be defeated. Not by the Dragon. Not by Vexatus.

The Heart of the Force hung like a black sun above them where the pair exchanged blows before the object of both their lives’ work. Darth Vexatus was drawing on his rage ever more, drawing on the pain, drinking of his own suffering, feeding off the nightmares that plagued his memories. The sorcerer would not stop him. Nobody would stop him. He would dominate all life. He would bring an end to all. There was nothing... only his will. He would control everything. He must.

The Falleen allowed himself to be overcome by the pain that was consuming his whole body. He began to focus, concentrating it, distilling pure rage into potency. A single line of blood ran down the Falleen’s forehead and the Mark tore open. The blistering light behind was like an inferno as the third sun rose to join the battle. Before him Trevarus Caerick cried out in torture, pain wracking his body as Lord Vexatus forced his torment upon his Master, drowning the sorcerer in his suffering as he projected a wave of blistering heat.

In the Force Trevarus Caerick began to flash in and out of being and Vexatus could hear the Dragon as it roared. When he looked upon his Master with his three eyes he could not tell upon whom his sight had fallen. Caerick’s face contorted. His eyes flashed with malice. Vexatus could sense the internal struggle as his Master fought to hold the Dragon at bay. This was a battle on two fronts. There was a certain justice in the sorcerer learning the folly of having two apprentices.

Their lightsabers locked again in a flash and wail of protest as the battle went on.

Sadow Beachhead, Jungle
Outside of Urati Kazinal
Lehon

The forces of Sadow had gathered at a designated landing site, not far from the Sanguinus. Astronicus Sadow and those loyal to him were congregating at this beach head that they had established earlier in the day. The famed Obelisk battle team known as Iron Fist had been dispatched on a scouting detail, but had yet to report back in. They were loyal Dark Jedi that would do whatever their Overlord commanded of them.

Ashia grew impatient at the delay, but knew it was best to wait for her relatives, Mononoke and Tsainetomo to arrive. They would need all of the support they could get to defeat the enemy that laid before them. Paladin might be able to handle one of them alone, but the two together might prove even a trifle difficult for the renowned Grand Master.

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
In orbit above Lehon
Lehon system, Unknown Regions


Admiral Araic Simonetti paced on the bridge of his starship. The battle had been intense, many lives had been lost and the Final Way had taken quite a punch. A young yeoman continually supplied him with damage reports and repair progress reports. The Harbringer sat motionlessly in space not too far away. She had been disabled by the ion cannon barrage. Her crew was no longer under the influence of Caerick and were working alongside crewmen from the ships of the Dlarit Special Operations Group and the Kangaras Division in bringing her systems back on-line.

Those who had seized control of it were now planetside and no longer a threat up here in space. Now it was only a matter of time until the viceroy dealt with those traitorous scum. In fact, there were not many Dark Jedi aboard his ship either. It was different, something he had not been accustomed too for quite sometime. He stood, staring out the reinforced viewport and marveled at the debris that encircled the planet Lehon. It must have been a tremendously large battle to leave such refuse behind floating around the planet like that.

Sadow Beachhead, Jungle
Outside of Urati Kazinal
Lehon

The Nachzerer made it's way to the jungle floor and settled in as it's landing gear extended and touched down. The Mad Sith Alchemist, known to many merely as Macron, along with his party disembarked to gather with the others. Tsainetomo and Naiia along with about 6 Sith droids, and the Taozin-silooth abomination, approached the clan Overlord and Consul.

"Macron, Tsainetomo, the time is now." Instructed Ashia, "We must take care of these traitors once and for all. Muz and Shin are waiting for us within, though I have an inkling that they will not wait for long. We must make haste and leave at once."

The gathering of Dark Jedi, along with their mundane soldiers boarded the repulsorlift driven vehicles that would carry them to the temple and to their destinies.

Sadow Beachhead, Jungle
Outside of Urati Kazinal
Lehon


Macron clenched his fists as the sled flew toward the temple. There was more blood to be shed, and the Sith loved doing exactly that. The backup armor suit was a tad bit uncomfortable but he would get used to it. He wondered how the woman known as Sakura was doing in the Final Way's medbay above.

“Almost there,” canted Tsainetomo over the repulsor sled’s thrumming engines. Astronicus waved a hand in command from his sled, and all the vehicles settled down some meters from the complex.

“They’ll have seen us coming,” commented the Overlord. “No matter. Now is the time. All forces- Attack!” He raised his fist into the air as the horde of troops and Dark Jedi dismounted. Ahead of them lumbered the ten-meter long mass of disgusting flesh known as Experiment 476. The foul thing was vile, looking like an armored worm with glistening iridescent flesh. It was flanked by six Sith droids, each with deflector shields and weapons.

“That’s gross as usual,” mentioned Tsainetomo as they stalked forward. “Won’t she get killed?”

“Surely,” replied Macron. “I called you Shirley, hee hee." He giggled as they approached the Overlord, Ashia, and Lord Paladin. "And it’s asexual, not a she. However, good riddance. The damn thing is a pain in my backside anyhow. It will clear the way for us.”

“Won’t they just blast it?” asked Naiia curiously as the three ignited their sabers simultaneously with the others. Several Cohorts began to fire on the worm as it slithered forward, and the Sadowite forces began to return fire.

“Not likely. The Taozin aspect makes it highly resistant to energy weapons- including lightsabers.” Macron said with a grin. “’Course they’ll figure that out and blow it up, but what the hell. It's too dangerous for me to keep around anyhow. Here they come...”

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The air shimmered black again as Lord Vexatus deflected another blow from his Master’s shoto. The pair were both utterly exhausted. Their faces were awash with sweat and blood, both that of their own and still of the giant wyrm that still lumbered in the background. Their clothes were shredded, Caerick practically naked from the inferno that had been redirected at him and set his hair alight leaving his head burned and utterly bald.

Vexatus was little better, sporting no more than a tattered pair of pants. The Falleen had burn marks all across his body from where he had been caught in the explosion of lightning earlier. He was stumbling painfully on his severed stump of a leg, sheer will to continue the only thing keeping his body moving. His ruin for an arm was growing worse by the second, a tendon having come loose and was now flailing around uselessly every time he raised his arm in defence.

Vexatus realised this battle was not going to be won one handed. Nearby he caught sight of a fallen corpse, the body of one of the warriors of the Iron Fist defeated not long ago. It was little more than a skeleton, the man foolish enough to be caught in the first belch of bile from the gargantuan wyrm. Reaching out, the Falleen summoned the fallen weapon to him, drawing the waiting blade into his phantom grasp. A beam of azure light burst into life behind the sorcerer, instantly forcing Caerick to spring into orbit, wincing with pain from his thigh and chest wounds as he avoided a horizontal slash.

The sorcerer came down a few meters away near the Heart. Vexatus brandished his bloodshine blade and charged, his gait cumbersome as he stepped uneasily on his stump of a leg, roaring with pain with every step. The blue blade flew from across the chamber, as he drew it into his invisible grasp. He could see his Master waiting for him, waiting for his apprentice to hobble across the distance between them and continue the fight anew. The sorcerer looked haggard, as much a wreck as the Falleen himself.

Vexatus was breathing heavily now, fighting to remain conscious. His blood was boiling inside his veins and he could feel his cells burning as they strained to retain the dark energies flowing through him. He had become a conduit, focusing the powers of the dark side enough to kill a lesser being. He could see his Master was gasping now, his ice blue eyes beginning to flicker violet as he fought the Dragon within, focusing on something elsewhere. It would have brought a smile of satisfaction to the Falleen’s lips had his jaw not been broken.

The instant their blades met Darth Vexatus felt as though he were going to vomit fire. His eyes dropped to stare at a blade of azure light protruding from just below his ribs. When he looked up a pair of predatory eyes were staring straight at him. His useless jaw fell open as he tried to gape from surprise. The Falleen simply stood there, disbelieving. No! Impossible!

An invisible fist of Force energy slammed into Trevarus Caerick and blasted him back across the chamber. His apprentice still stood there, leaning to one side as he balanced awkwardly on his severed leg. His shattered stump of bone fell to his side, joining his lightsaber already hanging passively where his good arm had fallen loose. The small hole in his abdomen smouldered where the blue blade had since fallen to the ground when the sorcerer's concentration had been broken when he was sent flying.

In the air above the Rakatan spirits had ceased spinning. Lord Orian was roaring with laughter. Lady Maestus was staring in silent condemnation, the look of contempt on her face speaking volumes. But the witch stared not at the sorcerer. Darth Maestus was scowling at her apprentice.

Only a complete failure would surrender willingly to the hand of lady death.

Darth Vexatus's head fell to stare at the ground before him. How could he be defeated? How could a mere Krath heretic defeat the true Dark Lord of the Sith? He could hear Urias Orian, hear the mocking laughter. All eyes were on him, thousands upon thousands of them, all staring upon his weakness. They thought he was a failure. All of them.

NO.

It was not an answer. It was far more than that. It was will.

This would not happen. He would not allow this to happen.

Will was everything. And Lord Vexatus willed otherwise. He. Would. Not. Die. His eyes burned with all the fury of Chaos as he focused, drawing the power of the lost souls into himself as he summoned the power of the temple, drinking of the energies of Urati Kazinal.

Lord Vexatus raised his head stiffly. He grimaced. Pain shot through his jaw as he coughed involuntarily, spitting blood. Like daggers, his eyes stared pure hatred at his Master. The Mark on his forehead opened wide and the three suns of Alain Caer burst into life. It was time for night to fall, time for all to become shadow and dust. The three daggers pointed toward Trevarus Caerick. It was time for the line of Caer to end.

Vexatus's good arm came up again, raising his bloodshine blade back into a ready stance. A thin trail of smoke continued to smoulder from the hole below his chest. He cast the searing heat out of his mind. Will drove him onwards. Will was everything. Flesh was nothing.

The sorcerer stared in a mix of disbelief and awe. How could his apprentice keep on fighting in his state? It brought the man a measure of peace. No matter what happened in the next few moments whoever won would become the true embodiment of will. Lord Caerick raised the Death Crimson into a ready stance and readied himself for his apprentice’s next attack.

Darth Vexatus charged, screaming bloody murder as he forced all pain aside and rushed his Master.

CR-90 Sanguinus
Praetorian Central Command
Lehon


Praefectus Heletsu paced across the narrow command bridge of the Sanguinus. Christine Zara sat in the Captain's station, monitoring communications, and routing them into the main holographic projector. The Executive Officer of the Cohort stood still after a moment. He watched Eosara carefully, waiting for any sign.

Instead, the immense man watched the display with muted interest. The Sadowites had landed on a beach-head not that far from their location. Most of Gamma Cabal had survived the battle of the Harbinger, Beta was down six of its ten Circles, Alpha down three, and Delta merely one. All of Zeta had survived, but was currently deployed to the main Temple courtyard.

The Captain of the Cohort, the Praefect Dominus, had approximately 360 battle-hardened warriors at his command. Judging from the visual scanning, the Sadowites had fielded around one thousand. Included in the mix were the DAC's. Eosara had trained a few of them. They could stand their ground against the best of Zeta, yet the rest of their forces would be cut to ribbons by the Cohort. Their DACs would undoubtedly be deployed with the Dark Jedi they normally served as Adjutants.

"Cabal Commanders, this is Obsidian One. Acknowledge." Eosara said into the powerfully encrypted communications network. In turn, each Cabal and Circle commander reported.

"Gamma and Alpha, deploy to the south and east. Route through the jungle, and ambush the Sadowites where possible. Engage in guerrilla operations, strike in secret. They will undoubtedly use beasts of war conjured by one of their alchemists. Proceed with all caution. Launch grenades, investigate later."

"Any Dark Jedi encountered are to be killed. Take no prisoners. Engage in such a way that you are afforded the possibility to fall back to the Temple complex, or to our staging point. I am uploading coordinates now. Obsidian One out." He punched a few keys, and the necessary information was beamed around the various soldiers. Pinpoints of light on the display indicated the movement of his soldiers, steathily into the jungle. They had trained in the jungles of Sepros, these weren't much different. Acknowledgements began to filter back, and Eosara merely watched the battle that would unfold.



Kazinal Core


His Apprentice was waning, the Master could feel it. Control was shifting into passion. The Dragon yearned to fight the Sith Lord as much as it craved to subjugate Trevarus. Clawing, cloying, maddening, Trevarus had never felt so alive. Vanity was forgotten in the face of mortal combat. Vision had fallen to the side as Chaos erupted, yet perfectly tempered. Chaos was choice, and in this battle everything was freely chosen. It was perfection. Master and Apprentice had united in one final quest: Conquest.

Vexatus charged forward, his remaining lightsaber flashing erratically. Whereas Trevarus was gaining more control, the Falleen was losing it. His icy demeanor failing as he finally faced what Trevarus had overcome his entire life. The Sith Lord had never truly died, he had never known what it was to fall into oblivion. He had no real memory of pain. High overhead, the Dark Lord who had haunted the back of his consciousness was well pleased. He disdained that pleasure, it was meaningless. This, this pain here and now was pleasure; it was nearly orgasmic.

There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do. Yet, he felt that his Apprentice deserved the honor of a final lecture. Even at the end, he was the Pedagogue, with his Apprentice crouched listening to his lesson.

Trevarus sidestepped, sweeping his blade forward. "You have failed, because you did not believe. You thought the Sith Code would save you. You learned the error of that way, and slipped into another."

The crimson blade swept across, the Falleen did not answer, even if he knew his Apprentice was listening.

"You sought power, but did not seek control. You looked for what you had not earned, what you could not keep. Thus, you became a child with an armed explosive. You will perish claiming too much. A blast you cannot control."

"Stand down now, Xanos Zorrixor... you cannot win."

"THEN I WILL DIE!" Vexatus shouted. His voice was brimming with nearly unrestrained passion. His aura burned as the Dragon, and his Will was slipping. The Beast within was taking control. Trevarus drank of his rage, and was well pleased. The Dragon seemed to calm for the barest of seconds.

Blood-screaming, the Sith Lord raised his lightsaber, and Trevarus struck. He severed the emmitter matrix off Vexatus' weapon. Sparking and sputtering, it fell to the floor. In a crack, the Master's lightsabers vanished, appearing on his back in the holsters he had designed on his belt. His trousers had been severed to mere tatters, only his belt and a shred of cloth covered him. His boots were long since burned away. Naked he was born, and naked he would die.

In a split second of pure rage, Vexatus raised his hand and lighting flashed forward. Raising his good arm, Trevarus returned. Across the chamber, lightning met, and Lightning became a battle of will. Through all conflict, the Thunder roared.

Final Way
Medical

“That is not my father!” Alector said again only this time more forcefully. He looked at the deceased form of Ashura laid in front of him. The corpse looked like his father but Alector was convinced it was not the man known to all as Ashura Isradia.

“I know this hard for you to believe, boy,” said the doctors, “but there is no way around it.”

“No, if my father was dead I would have felt in here,” the young man touched his heart. It was also more than that as Alector would have sensed his father death. The doctor tried to explain again but Isradia had enough… no power in the universe would convince him and he stormed out angrily.

The doctor shook his head and placed the white sheet back over the body. It was hard on anyone to loss someone they loved… like a father… or a daughter. The physician silently cursed himself, now was not the time to reflect on those who had died in his own past; atleast not while on duty.

“Nurse, how is the young woman doing?”

In the next room Sakura floated peacefully in the Bacta tank in dreamless sleep thanks to the drugs been pumped into her body. A blonde haired woman was standing in front of the tank with a clipboard.

“The patient is responding well to treatment, doctor,” replied the nurse as she handed the clipboard over.

“That’s good news,” the doctor looked over the clipboard and then looked at Sakura, “this one is going to have a lot of explaining to do when she wakes. It appears she wasn’t even supposed to be on the Harbinger. She’s a Special Operations Subcommander not a Navy Sub-Lieutenant.”

The chief medical officer put the “how’s” and “why’s” out of his mind. These were all questions for later on, for now the red haired woman needed to heal.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Lightning forked from the hands of Sith and Krath exploding where it met in mid-air.

The fight had transcended the personal. When lightning blazed, it was not Darth Vexatus burning Trevarus Caerick with his hate, it was the Lord of all Sith scorching the Master of all Krath. It had become a battle of pure will. The Beast against the Dragon. Chaos versus Control. Darkness against Shadow. No matter the outcome Light had already lost. Consumation of the Final Order was at hand.

Forks of dark lightning met bolts of violet blaze. Where they met the air itself burned with fire as all was turned to dust. The two dark lords screamed as the electric storm grew larger and larger. The Darkness and the Shadow poured more and more into the void between them as their wills became locked in the eternal battle of sword against shield.

Through the fiery inferno between them Vexatus could see the ice blue eyes glowing with raw power and the Dragon staring out from beyond. The Beast drew more energy from the darkness as even his broken bone erupted with a twin current of energy. The cyclone grew greater still as the air between them caught on fire and only will held the fireball back.

The Heart throbbed with all its majestic glory, the Rakatan wraiths circling the two in a tornado. Lord Orian stood firm behind his student as Lady Maestus did the same behind her own. Darkness and Shadow began to push back across the chamber, their feet and stump scrapping across the floor as they held Chaos at bay. But the Beast did not care. The Beast had surrendered to Chaos and so the Darkness began to draw on the growing inferno.

The ground below rumbled as the very volcano of Urati Kazinal began to awaken. The mountain quaked and the ceiling came loose as massive chunks of rock fell to be devoured by the growing nightmare. The circuit completed itself and the Chaos reflected back onto its source feeding the Beast ever more as it grew stronger and stronger and devoured the final remnants of the being who had once been known as both Darth Vexatus and Xanos Zorrixor.

Death was nothing. Power was everything.

Vexatus snarled as the blistering energy that poured from his hands only intensified. His pain fed his power and back again. Through the void he watched the face of Trevarus Caerick contort as it battled the Dragon his eyes alternating blue and violet and back again. The Krath screamed with ageless fury as the thousand nameless voices cried out with despair as the battle of will pressed upon all.

The Darkness and the Shadow began to lift off the ground as they continued to pour more and more energy into the raging star that had been born between them. The Beast screamed as if his soul was tearing itself apart expending every last atom of energy to press the assault further and further and further. Vexatus’s skin burned as his individual cells began to tear apart, internal membranes dissolving from the strain as his body drank of more and more energy becoming a living conduit.

His hand blistered, his skin withered, his blood boiled. His skeletal arm violently quaked as he forced the energies through it oblivious to the lack of a hand. The inferno overcame his sight as the star began to rage with blistering light that burned the entire chamber. Vexatus gave himself utterly over to the Beast allowing the creature coiled around his heart to strangle the last gasps of identity left. Xanos Zorrixor became the Beast and poured the full fury of Chaos into the void.

Lehon Jungle

Malisane and Agrist's blades clashed as they continued to fight. Beneath them the tree bounced and rocked along the river, still gaining speed.
"This is stupid!" Malisane shouted over the roar of the river.
Agrist grinned. "You afraid De Ath?" he shouted back as he aimed another slice at the ex Quaestor.
"No I just have no wish to die going over a waterfall on a floating tree!" Malisane shouted back as he deflected it, "it's not how I saw my future!"
"What waterfall?" Agrist demanded as a counter from the other Battlelord slid along his blade.
"There's always a waterfall!"
"We can die together then!" Agrist shouted back as he hacked at Malisane's blade.
"The hell with that!" Malisane and pushed himself up, soaring over the water to land and roll to his feet on a bank.
Agrist snarled, as Malisane stood saber in hand, preparing to meet the mercenary as he jumped.

Agrist had no such ideas. He concentrated, then smiled at Malisane's expression as the tree lifted from the water, the mercenary guiding it far above the other Battlelord's head who backed off. Agrist gave him a deadly glance then let go, as Malisane leapt aside as the tree crashed where he'd been stood a second ago.
A second later Agrist was on him, landing on the Sith and slipping an arm around his neck, and pressed his saber hilt to the small of Malisane's back. "If i press this button you become a human kebab De Ath. Throw away your saber."
Malisane did so. "Alright," Agrist said, "we're going to get up nice and slowly. No sudden moves I've got an itchy finger. Agrist released the pressure on Malisane's kneck and pushed himself to his feet. Malisane slowly followed. "Don't even think about turning around," the mercenary said coldly.
"So what now?" Malisane asked. "You kill me?"
"I take you back," Agrist said coldly, "captured a traitor. Could be a good reward here. Get me off that destroyer to a decent command. I hear Prefect of Kar Alabrekh could come up soon."
"You think so?" Malisane snarled, "Who they going to believe? The fomer Quaestor, and all round good guy. Or the former True Brotherhood minion who torched Tarthos?"
"You make a good point De Ath," Agrist said thoughtfully, "death it is then."

Suddenly there was a growl and Agrist glanced around to see the hound stood nearby, fangs bared. As Malisane shifted to attack Agrist's finger pressed the button on his hilt. Malisane roared in agony as the blade pierced his side, just missing his internal organs. As he collasped to the floor clutching the burned hole in his side Agrist raised the blade as the hound hit him, knocking him to the ground.

Gmorks fanged mouth snapped at his neck as the hounds claws tore through Agrist's armour to find the flesh beneath. He grabbed Gmorks throat, pushing the hounds head away, as agony ripped through him as the claws raked his chest drawing blood. Gmork fought back, trying to reach the mercenaries head. Agrist's grip shifted and a second later the hounds teeth bit deep into his left shoulder, passing through flesh and muscle to reach the bone beneath. Agrist gritted his teeth agaist the agonising pain as he fought to keep a grip on the saber hilt. With a snarl he wrenched the hilt up, the blade igniting once more as it burned through the hounds body, and Gmork made one loud yelp then was still, his teeth still gripping the mercenaries shoulder in death. Agrist lay unable to move, his strength going and the hound pinning him down. He was bleeding from his shoulder, chest and legs where the hound had also scrabbled it's claws against him. His head slammed back against the floor and he lay there helpless.

Malisane was crawling away into the undergrowth, his vision blurred and his strength ebbing. The rip in his side was begining to bleed through the partially cauterised flesh. He collasped against a tree, breathing heavily. He could hear the stuggle nearby followed by the loud death of his pet but was past caring. Once the blood flow increased he was going to die. He reached for his communicator. "This is an emergency," he gasped into it, "this is Malisane de Ath, any unit in range i need immediate medical assistance. Trace this signal." He lay back against the tree, trying to stay consious in the hope help would arrive.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


Ask first what each thing is. What is its essential nature. Lust, Trevarus thought. That was the essential nature of their conflict. Amusement was the mark of the Sorcerer. He feared nothing, he did not know dread. As the fight waged forward, he began to laugh. His eyes abright, blue shimmering violet. He felt exhuberant, he felt alive. He felt that nothing could stop him now. A lust born twenty years before had decided his fate. In choosing to crave, he had chosen the ending to this drama.

Trevarus laughed as energy poured through this hands. He laughed as if nothing could stop him, and indeed he knew the end was inevitable.

The Heart of the Force was centered at the very apex of their conflict, traces of lightning flared across its surface, pulsing with black-light energies as the rage-Will of Master and Apprentice flared around it. Trevarus stepped forward, shortening the distance. The Sith Lord followed. They were mirror images of each other, both in wounds and in life. Trevarus had taught the Falleen everything the Sith knew. He had confirmed the truth of the lie, and the lie of the truth. Riddles, endless riddles, and only at the end did the Sith Lord understand. There is a question in an answer, and an answer in a question. Life was between. All of life was a simple paradox. There was no true resolution, only the manifestations of Will.

He sensed that the Clan was close. This battle was drawing to its conclusion. His mind-sense told him that several of his Obsidian Cohort had hypered in. That could only mean that they were engaged in combat with Clan Naga Sadow through Urati Kazinal itself.

His Will focused on his Apprentice, his senses attuned to what was coming. He must end it soon. There was a blood-price to be exacted.

Blood and Sorrow. There would be a unification. Another voice resounded in his skull.

I will expect answers, Lord Caerick. Finish it soon. He smiled, and redoubled his attack. His Apprentice faltered, and began to burn.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The newly born star between them began to rupture and burst as Darkness and Shadow refused to yield. In the distance shots rang out as mere ants exchanged fire having fallen through a silver gateway that felt light years away but in truth mere meters, forgotten by the two Gods as they battled, pouring their full fury into the void.

Through victory . . . my chains are broken.

Vexatus’s eyes glowed with fire. He was casting off all mortal shackles. There were no more walls to see. His skin had begun to ripple, burning from the fire consuming him from inside out. His Master was waning, the great sword of the Dragon smashing through the final shield he had long held high. It was a fight Trevarus knew he could not win.

Neither would surrender. There could be only defeat. Yet in defeat Trevarus knew there was victory. Death was not the end. Live or die, win or lose, his will would be done regardless. He laughed as understanding flooded his mind.

In those last moments Trevarus Caerick realised why the advantage was his apprentice’s. The Falleen was fuelled by passion, the sorcerer by intellect. Vexatus cared nothing for the consequences. The Dragon clawed at the back of his mind as it fought to consume him. But Trevarus was not the Beast. He was Control. Against all odds, his will would not falter.

It had become more than a battle of raw force. Vexatus savaged Trevarus’s mind while Trevarus tore at the forbidden vaults of his apprentice. For all his regret the sorcerer did not feel hate. They both pulled at memories, replaying the images of the first day they together had stared into the heart of the Du’san Boundary. The same day the Dragon had manifested and both Trevarus’s apprentices had taken form. In all those years they had cared only about power. Both of them.

The Falleen was testament to his greatest success. And his biggest failure.

Vexatus’s skin rippled. He tore his Master from the floor and dragged them both into the air. Gunfire sounded as shots continued to rain out in the distance, drawing nearer; utterly meaningless to the writhing inferno taking form around the Heart as the two Gods vied for domination. Darkness and Shadow rose into the apex of the chamber and the sun between them began to quake, consuming the Heart within its fiery glow.

Control began to falter feeding Chaos further still.

Vexatus had become composed entirely of light, a star made of flesh, so far beyond terms of beauty that Trevarus had no words to describe him. Not even concepts. He simply was. Trevarus beheld a window to all that is and would be. He saw in it a reflection of himself, an embodiment of all his failure and success. His apprentice had become the embodiment of all they had strived for. And yet the very greatness that made all these things possible carried with it the dark truth. Heights were defined by the depths over which they towered, the greater the summit, the more terrible the fall. And his apprentice had fallen as far as one could. In beauty there was terror.

His greatest student. His greatest failure.

Trevarus bared his teeth. His skin was being flayed on a molecular level. As he stared into the fiery inferno that had consumed the Heart of the Force the truth of the ancient prophecy of Alain Caer became plain for the sorcerer finally understood the identities of the three stars. He knew that he was a shining light too, if nowhere near as brilliant or as terrible as his apprentice.

One to embody the power . . .

He felt an eerie, welcome calm and knew the line of Alain Caer was at last at an end.

Trevarus was beaten, perhaps, but he would never surrender. He at long last understood the great mystery. There were no more questions. He had become the answer to it all. In the end he existed as energy, formlessness. Out of that final realisation he smiled. His state might well change beyond all recognition but he could never be created or destroyed and from that would come the chance and hope of ultimate victory.

In the back of his mind the Dragon roared triumphant.

. . . the other to crave it.

His smile became a grin as he at long last understood the Dragon could never win. He was the Dragon. He always had been. And the Dragon was him. There was no death, only will.

The words echoed once more in the back of his mind. Finish it.

Death would not be pleased with him this day. He meant to spit in the lady’s eye.

Trevarus heard a pain stricken cry from very close, calling to their lord. Lord Caerick! He watched as shots rained upon his apprentice only to be devoured by the growing storm. Vexatus ignored them. He had eyes only for his Master. Trevarus looked back, continuing to smile, daring his apprentice to do his worst. Vexatus took the challenge as Trevarus had known he would.

Closing his eyes, the sorcerer projected a final lesson, neither hating, nor condemning, only praying he may yet leave one last glimmer of hope, such that Control might yet win this day.

Don’t let it control you.

And with those words Vexatus exploded, shining light upon all, his power becoming absolute as Chaos took physical form. A shock wave blast through the room as the dark orb before him erupted with the full fury of a star as it exploded into a million splinters of glass. The spirits shot from the sky merging with the respective shards that represented their souls before they struck the two Gods.

Vexatus cried out in fury as he was impaled by an eternity of death before his eyes went black, becoming pits deeper than the void. Trevarus smiled as he felt his own body consumed by fire. He felt himself falling out of the sky before he crashed against a talon shaped pillar, shards of glass impaling him where he lay. His own eyes rolled back then went misty.

Finally there was nothing at all.

Darth Vexatus and Trevarus Caerick were gone.

Lehon Jungle

"He's over here." Malisane opened his eyes to see two Dlarit medics coming towards him, followed by a couple of troopers.
"Don't move sir," one told him.
Malisane nodded as they examined his side, and one took a sonic device, waving it over Malisane's burned flesh cauterising the bloodflow, while the other gave him an injection. "Bring the stretcher over," one of the medics ordered the troopers, who returned with a repulsor sled. Carefully they lifted the Sith onto it. "He's stable but we need to get him to the medical bay."
They guided the stretcher back to their small shuttle. Malisane was feeling drowsy, from bloodloss and whatever drug they'd given him. He was thinking fast. He had to remain consious. He allowed himself to be secured to a monitoring machine, and noted with satisfaction that the two D:SOG troopers leave to search the area. On the one hand they might find Agrist and raise the alarm, on the other hand that just left two medics.

As the shuttle lifted off from the surface and the one of the medics engaged the autopilot to take the craft back to the Final Way. The other stood watching the monitor next to the prone Sith. Malisane watched him through nearly shut eyes. He was feeling light headed but a plan was forming. He concentrated on the straps securing him to the stretcher, and loosened several pins on the straps. He took a deep breath and then let out a large groan. The medic leaned in and Malisane wrenched at the straps pulling them loose, and grabbed the pistol from the medics holster. The medic leapt to his feet, and unable to raise his arm too far shot the medic in the thigh, sending him falling to the floor with a cry of pain. The other medic leapt up from his chair and into Malisane's firing range and Malisane blasted him, sending the man tumbling against the control panel before slumping to the floor. Malisane pushed himself up onto his shaky legs, and pushed himself over the the console, ignoring the medic who was laid on the floor clutching his leg. He slumped into the chair.
His vision was blurred but he managed to make out the course. "Computer send a burst signal on frequency 549, wait for a response then alter course to intercept the source of the response."
He waited a few seconds, then felt the shuttle alter its vector, heading away from the fleet.

Assasin Class Corvette Exile
Lehon Space.

Lieutenant Tor Vaxall sat on his bridge sipping a cup of coffee. Following the battle the Commander Miros had sent her two corvettes on a patrol of the outer regions of the system. Mostly it was just rocks and twisted metal wreckage from some past disaster or fight.
"Sir, we have a ship entering scanner range." an ensign reported.
"Identify it." Vaxall ordered.
"Dlarit medical shuttle, assigned to the Final Way. It's on autopilot."
"Lifesigns," the lieutenant asked.
"Two, though faint."
"Get a tractor lock on it," Vaxall ordered, "bring it onboard."
"Yes sir."
Vaxall waited, then the ensign reported. "We have a lock sir, permission to lower shields?"
Vaxall nodded. "Granted."

Suddenly another crewman turned in his chair, "Sir we have another contact!"
"Identify it," the lieutenant replied.
"Corvette class, unknown design," the crewman replied.
"Hail them," Vaxall ordered.
"Sir they're not responding," the crewman responded, "they're powering weapons!"
"Raise shields!" Vaxall said quickly before the ship rocked under a barrage of turbolaser fire. "Return fire!"
"Sir weapons control not responding, shields were only partially restored when they hit us. They're firing again."
Vaxall gripped his chair as a second barrage hit the Exile, "Send a request to the flagship for reinforcements."
"Too much interference caused by the debris," the ensign reported.
"Get us out of here," Vaxall ordered, "short range jump!"
"What about the shuttle?"
"Forget the shuttle!"

M/CRV Liberator
Lehon Space.

Travis Syren, former Imperial Captain and Dystopian Leisure Director watched the Exile jump to hyperspace. "Excellant, no pursuit, tractor lock the shuttle and bring it onboard. Then go to hyperspace before more hostiles arrive. I don't intend to engage the entire Dlarit Fleet.
Half an hour later. minutes later the Liberator was in hyperspace. Travis entered the medical bay and walked over to the Sith, who was laid on a bed.
Malisane smiled. "So captain, the Liberator lives up to it's name."
Travis nodded. "We're on route to the co-ordinates you gave us," he said quietly, "I hope you know what you're doing."
Malisane shrugged then winced at the pain. "So do I captain."
Travis nodded. "When you came to me I was unsure, but I am not a businessman. Still we give up much. Dystopian Leisure was profitable."
"That is up to Jenna and the other two now," Malisane replied, "however the glory you will earn for this will dwarf that when I reach my father."
"I hope we get a warm response." Travis said.
"Do not worry," Malisane replied, "a glorious future awaits us. You have served me well and you will be well rewarded."
Travis nodded. "We'll be there in ten days," he replied, "I suggest you get some rest." He saluted and left.
Malisane shut his eyes. He shared the captain's aprehension. He had turned his back on Clan Naga Sadow. Part of him would miss them, it had been nearly six years since Tierdonis' death and his new life in the Brotherhood.
He was also unsure about Severak. Could the Sith Lord be trusted, even by his son? Malisane was unsure, but the risk was worth it for the power it offered. He smiled. Maybe one day he could match and defeat the old Sith, and maybe he would rule. With dreams of the future glory he'd promised Travis he drifted off into a healing sleep.

Temple Entrance
Urati Kazinal
Lehon

Joseem and Tsingtao could still hear the female Rancor belt out its anger at losing its offspring. "We should have known that the slaughter was a bit too easy." Joseem said. Tsingtao cocked his head over and looked at Joseem with his good eye, his head covered in bandages, "Never mind her, do you feel that?" Joseem reached out to the Dark Side and almost fell to his knees. Deep within, there was a fight raging to shake the very foundations of the Dark Side itself.


As Joseem and Tsingtao started to make their way in, they saw members of the Zeta Cabal making their way out. Both parties stopped in their tracks, eyeing each other. It was quiet for the briefest of moments, with only the chirping of animals from the nearby jungle. Joseem and Tsingtao, in concert, unhooked their sabers and with a familiar snap-hiss, engaged the Cabal.

Temple Entrance
Urati Kazinal
Lehon

At the sound of the lightsabers coming to light, Thesh walked up with his Z-6 rotary blaster cannon and laid down suppression fire. The Cabals in the front were mowed down easily. A few of the Zeta Cabal tried to run back into the Temple. Shen brought up his sniper rifle and picked off a couple of the Cabals in the back as the rest rushed into battle.

Both Tsingtao and Joseem used the Force to levitate several troopers off the ground and proceeded to throw those troopers behind them as they rushed for the Temple. The impact from the landing wasn’t enough to hurt the Zeta Cabal, but just to daze them. As they were getting back to their feet, a large Rancor burst into the area. Her great arms stretched wide as she bellowed her arrival. She scooped up the Cabal with both her arms. She looked at each hand and then tossed them away with disgust.

“I figured as much,” Tsingtao said as they ran into the Temple. “Seems like she likes you, Joseem.” he said with a smile.

“Very fun, my friend.” the Jedi Hunter replied. “Krill, finish off this beast!”

With that order, Krill lifted is PLX-1 launcher and fired a round into the Rancor. The explosion did nothing but knock the great beast backwards. The Rancor yelled out in pain as Krill fired another shot this time connecting into the monster’s open jaw. The Rancor’s head exploded into pieces, sending flesh and blood all over the area.

After watching the beast fall to the ground, the six ran into the Temple.

Sadow Beachhead, Jungle
Outside of Urati Kazinal
Lehon

The difference between success and failure, between life and death, can often be measured in microns, tracked in seconds, and attributed to proper positioning. Where Shin’ichi’s Apprentices had success in penetrating the citadel’s exterior, having only to get through token resistance, Astronicus and his retinue was mired in a veritable morass of death and destruction, seeing as how they happened upon the scene a only minutes after. Luckily, these Sadowans were probably best suited to deal with the situation at hand.

As Mononoke’s beast tore into the ‘line’ that the remainder of Zeta Cabal had formed as a decoy, the guerilla units doubled back to catch the Sadowans from behind. The resulting crossfire had them pinned for the moment, causing them to spread their focus and waste their energies.

Astronicus stayed close to Lord Paladin, flinging the occasional Cabalist that had strayed too close into a tree-trunk; Ashia and Mononoke moved as best as they could, seeing as how the Cabalists were outstanding marksman. Still, they were no match for the seasoned Darksiders, whose movements caused the blaster bolts to splash harmlessly in the ground their feet occupied moments before.

Tsainetomo, on the other hand, fought curiously apart from the main vanguard. He engaged in close quarters combat, effectively negating the blaster-fire. Still, his jaw attested to the Cabalist hand-to-hand skills, aching where one of their number managed to score a backhanded strike to the Archpriest; the Rollmaster spun with the blow and freed the Cabalist from the burden of his lower legs with a swipe of his sunset-hued blade. The combatant fell with a shriek, and found himself roughly introduced to the local flora, as well as three of his comrades, as the Keibatsu rose and hurled his body with unseen hands.

“I don’t know which will last longer,” lamented the Alchemist. “Their ammo or our stamina!” He chortled as he dodged a tight grouping of blaster bolts.

“The Madman is right, sire; I sense the conflict within is coming to an end, and I should like to see it with my own eyes,” Astronicus said to the Grand Master Emeritus.

“Very well,” Paladin responded in a tone bordering on boredom. “Follow my lead.” With that, he stepped with confidence towards the citadel, the Overlord at his side. Both men had their arms before them.

Sensing the marshalling of a considerable amount of Dark Side power, Ashia called to her bretheren: “Sai, Mac, to me!” The cousins Keibatsu rushed to the rear of the two Dark Jedi Masters and began to hurl telekinetic waves at the Cabalists eager to rush them from behind.

As the ethereal energies slowed the advance, Ashia, Mononoke and Tsainetomo were surrounded in whirlwinds of amethyst and tangerine, respectively. Every blaster bolt that zinged in towards them was batted back by their whirling blades; some found a home in Lehon’s soil, but most took up residence in their gunners' chests.

Meanwhile, the two Dark Jedi Masters had begun flinging Force Lightning towards those unlucky souls who had managed to evade Mononoke’s beast’s rampage. Unfortunately for the beast, the energy arced into its misbegotten form as well. It let out a screech and began to gurgle, its mass writhing from the power Paladin and Astronicus unleashed. To its credit, Macron had engineered it to be hearty; it lasted a full five seconds longer than the Cabalists that also shared its fate.

They quintet did not break stride as they entered the citadel. They were examples of what attentive Dark Side and martial students could produce, and Astronicus would not be denied his vengeance.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The fighting had stopped as the Heart had exploded into a thousand shards of glass, impaling the two Dark Jedi Masters and throwing them across to opposite sides of the chamber.

Darth Vexatus landed into a leap, his lifeless body crashing into the floor and rolling randomly until it finally stopped, shards sticking out of every inch of flesh. His body was a wreck, limbless and burned beyond all recognition, covered in cuts and gouges. When he hit the ground his body promptly burst into flames, the dark side energy inside him erupting in a violent explosion of blue fire.

The sorcerer landed seconds after. Trevarus Caerick slammed heavily into one of the talon-shaped pillars that ringed the chamber. Like his apprentice, his body exploded, blackening the surface of the ground and ripping a small crater in the earth. The pillar behind twisted and warped, melting under the fiery discharge of latent energies to leave a smouldering form still writhing with blue flames like a funeral pyre, shards of the Heart of the Force protruding across his body.

Both the surviving members of Zeta Cabal and the Dlarit forces that had already arrived ceased firing, momentarily blinded by the massive explosion of light that had enveloped the chamber. As the light subsided to leave only the two lifeless, burning bodies the troopers, both Cohort and Dlarit alike, lowered their weapons, all struggling to come to terms with what they had just witnessed.

Trevarus Caerick and Darth Vexatus were dead. Dead.

Several members of Zeta Cabal cautiously backed off from the rest of their squad mates, holding their arms high, gesturing to the Dlarit troopers not to fire. They moved over to where their lord and master had fallen, inspecting Lord Caerick’s body. The praetorians were unable to near, the heat still billowing from the body far too hot to get close. The lack of movement told them all they needed. They lowered their arms, allowing their weapons to fall loosely to their sides.

Across the chamber, the other members of Zeta Cabal followed suit. Where they were clustered around one of the hypergates, the Dlarit troopers kept their weapons raised, alert for any sign of trickery. But in reality they had already relaxed, knowing the main threat had passed, the remaining praetorians were of little consequence and the rest of the Dlarit forces would be there soon. The true enemy, the great betrayers, the traitors who had committed treason of the worst kind, the beasts who had sought to supplant not just the Republic and the Vong but the Brotherhood itself and all other sentient life in the universe with their own will had been defeated. Slain. Destroyed by each other and their own lust for power.

It was over. Finally, after fifteen years of lies and deceit, it was over. Perhaps now they could head home and return to the festivities they had been forced to cut short. They should have been celebrating right now. This was still the anniversary of the Exodus. Maybe they could yet enjoy the Independence Games. With the war ongoing and especially after all this it was all they could wish for. They had all grown tired of fighting. Battling threats both inside and out.

Unnoticed, a hand began to stir in the flames.

Outside of Urati Kazinal
Lehon

A few of the guerillas still harassed the DSOG troopers and clones, but the brunt of the combat was behind them in the woods now. Screams echoied through the foliage, peppered with the sounds of blasters and exploding grenades. Ashia, Paladin, Astronicus, Tsianetomo and Macron made a beeline for the temple's yawning entrance.

Macron caught an errant blaster shot in his Armor Fist, the green bolt splashing harmlessly off the palm of the mandalorian iron-clad weapon. The Cohort that shot the bolt clutched his throat as Macron closed his fist in glee. "Strike three, you're out," the Warlord chuckled as the form dropped to the ground and twitched like a cockroach. "Didn't even make it to base."

"That was like, pretty cool, huh huh" giggled Macron as they all walked by the pile of bodies and deliquescing goo. "Never thought it would stand up to that for even 5 seconds." He grabbed his datapad and began typing furiously as he looked at his dead experiment.

Astronicus regarded him with a frown as Lord Paladin raised a disapproving eyebrow. Tsainetomo spoke up gingerly. "Umm. Not the best time to take notes, Mac."

"Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Sorry, I'm insane and all that, looked like some good data," he snickered as he dropped the datapad back into his pocket. "Well gentlebeings, shall we?" He giggled again, the pitch rising somewhat higher this time. That usually meant Macron was itching for personal combat. "I'm pretty tired of playing blaster baseball out here."

"Let's show them the price of their actions," said Ashia as they all looked at each other with conviction. All of them had stern looks on their faces as the Dark Side rose about them in a hum of evil energy.

And I'll show Vexatus his doom for betraying me, thought Macron as he considered the vial on his belt pouch full of microbes.

Somewhere beyond time...


It was perhaps, inevitable that he should stand here now. Trevarus was in a void of nothingness. Not even the Force was at his arm. He became aware of a presence. Movement, something out of the corner of his intangible eye. He turned quickly. What sort of madness was this?

Something brushed his arm, he swept upward quickly avoiding an attack that never came. His feet were knocked out from underhim. He didn't falls, so much as simply change orientation. There was no floor to fall on, he couldn't even really gauge up or down. It was truly mere void.

If this was death, at least he might have a glass of scotch.

Out of the darkness came the sound of laughter, high-pitched and feindish. The mad cackling of a broken mind. It grew louder, other voices began to join it. Screaming, laughing, wailing, even pleading for death. All over the void, bright shining points began to open. Trevarus became aware of them as eyes. Hundreds of thousands of eyes watching him, staring through him. The voices grew even louder.

When the Dragon struck, Trevarus didn't see it coming. With no warning, a form identical to his tackled him. The Sorcerer turned, throwing his body weight so he was on top. The Dragon pushed back, and Trevarus landed a blow to its abdomen. He stared into the eyes of his enemy for the first time. Twin orbs glowing violet rage. Shan Long snarled, raked claws across Trevarus' face. Without a sound, Trevarus pressed forward, leaping high into a roundhouse kick.

And the Force was with him.

As the sense of purpose flowed back across Trevarus, he blasted the Dragon with blue-white lightning.

"You'll not take me so easily, Shan Long" He cried out.

"Trevarus Caerick is dead."

The Dragon evaded his lightning, sweeping around in a parody of flight. The eyes began to blink in succession behind them. Lightning crackled as they met again, blue white pouring over what he perceived as his body, flashing through his skin. The moment must be right. His Will must fight the Passion.

His skin began to flush, as he poured more hatred into the Dragon. As if his skin was becoming energy, he began to glow. Thunder roared. Locked in an embrace that resembled love, their passion could not be mistaken.

The Dragon opened his third eye, violet light cascading through the abyss. The Nameless Voices cried out in terror, and fell silent. There was only Trevarus Caerick, there was only Shan Long. Staring deep into the growing shine of deep violet his own Mark opened.

In that moment Trevarus chose.

Urati Kazinal
Lehon

Muz and Shin’ichi stared upon the ancient artifact across the chamber, a shimmering silver portal that was draped across the far wall like a sort of veil. Had they more time and the urgency of their dilemma not been pressing at the back of their minds they may have marvelled at the true majesty of such a graceful design.

Right now, all they could hear were the voices as they screamed.

The sound tore at the two Keibatsu’s minds. The entire planet was awash with an ocean of dark energies ebbing and flowing in all directions but this cried out with an ageless fury. Something disastrous had happened. They could only pray they were not too late.

A mechanical grown issued from Shin’ichi’s vocabulator. “Damn it!” he swore. “I’m going through.”

The Krath Lord briskly held up a hand. “Wait,” Muz said acidly. The situation was too dire to make rash errors. “Lord Sadow and Lord Paladin are almost here.”

As if on cue, hurried footsteps could be heard coming up from the narrow passageway behind them. They were coming fast. Dlarit troopers came charged through first, their boots heavy on the cold stone floor. They fanned out into the circular chamber, pausing briefly to inspect the burnt carcasses of several orbalisks before clearing way for the team of Dark Jedi accompanying them to move inside.

Lord Sadow was at the front, his face brimming with ferocity. “Lord Keibatsu,” he barked in greeting, his voice betraying the raw fury raging inside him. He jerked to a halt when his eyes suddenly fell across the silver portal at the far end of the room. “What in Chaos is that?”

Jedgar Paladin stepped idly into the chamber at the rear of the other Dark Jedi. His face was stern but there was a degree of detachment the others lacked. It was almost as if the man didn’t care. If it were not for whom the man was, Tron would have attacked him for it. But the Overlord knew better than to argue with the apprentice of Lord Kane.

Jedgar was puffing on his trademark pipe. He truly seemed oblivious to it all. His gaze lingered on the portal and his eyes flashed with admiration. “Impressive,” he said, taking hold of his pipe in his fingers in order to speak. “Too bad the technology was lost.”

Tron stared at the Sith Lord and had to fight to maintain his composure. “With all due respect, my lord, do we really have time to admire the architecture?”

Jedgar sighed and let out a long breath along with a thin whisper of smoke. He nodded. “Let’s get this over with,” said the Sith Lord. His eyes flashed with a look Tron could not quite place his fingers on. Regret? Doubt? It was unclear. “I want you all to remember we fight not just for the fate of the Brotherhood but the entire universe. Whatever your personal feelings, either toward them or toward each other, keep your minds on the objective. They cannot be allowed to succeed.”

Muz stepped forward from where he had been standing nearby the portal. “Lord Paladin, do you have any idea what we should expect? You know this world better than any of us.”

The elder man’s eyes went deadly serious. “I do not know for certain what Master Caerick and Lord Vexatus sought,” said Paladin slowly, “only that if they have achieved their goal they may already be unstoppable. Let us pray that is not the case.”

Tron had heard enough. “Let us not delay any longer,” said the Overlord impatiently, the anger in his voice at the betrayal palpable. “And remember, they are not your friends anymore. Whoever they once may have been, Caerick and Vexatus are deserving of nothing but annihilation now.”

On that note Astronicus led the way in stepping into the icy waters of the shimmering hypergate. The universe went white as a blinding light consumed them and they all bundled through the extra dimensional gate and flew toward their destiny and whatever awaited them on the other side.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


Perhaps thirty of the remaining soldiers of Zeta Cabal were fanned out in a wide semi-circle between the two hypergates, and the core sacrificial platform. Six talonesque pillars circled the smoldering remains of the altar that had supported the Heart of the Force. On two sides of this, twin fires burned where the Sorcerer and the Heretic had fallen. Zeta had orders to march in this situation, but the Praefectus Dominus had not issued orders. Eosara was enroute, ETA fifteen minutes.

Immediately opposite the Cohort's defensive screen, were the Dlarit soldiers. Four DAC's and a number of their lesser contigent from the Special Operations group. Both Cohort and Dlarit had weapons shoulders, fingers at triggers. For now, there seemed to be something of a standstill. Neither side fired, not having direct orders to. Primary targets were presumed destroyed.

Behind the Dlarit screen, six figures hypered into the sacrificial chamber. All had lightsabers in hand, and immediately upon reversion, five blades snapped to life in a crack of energy. The Dlarits parted to allow their commanders through.

"Where are they?" Tron demanded, brandishing his lightsaber.

A DAC pointed to poth raging infernos. "It would appear they are dead, my Lord."

Paladin stepped forward, striking a match to his pipe. "How the mighty have fallen." He took a few measured draws. No emotion was betrayed on his face.

Tron raised his hands, addressing the assembled Cohort and Dlarit Army. "Trevarus Caerick and Xanos Zorrixor are dead! They have destroyed each other in mad lust for power, and in the cowardice of betrayers." There seemed to be triumph in his words, relish

"All Dlarit forces stand down. To the Obsidian Cohort: You were loyal soldiers to Trevarus Caerick, and fought because it was your duty. Lay down your arms, and you are free to leave. You may board the Sanguinus, and depart the system. You may not return to the Orian System, or any domain of Clan Naga Sadow under pain of death." Tron was feeling merciful in his vindication.

Behind the line of the Cohort, a pillar of brilliant violet light had erupted from the blue fire where Trevarus Caerick had fallen. It grew with feverish intensity, Every pair of eyes turned with amazement. Soon, a pallor of violet had cast over everything in the vast chamber. Yet, it was cold. No heat flared from the light. The Cohort began to fall back, unsure of this new development. The six Dark Jedi stepped forward, now fully between all soldiers and the anomaly. The light abruptly faded.

In a kneeling crouch was the prone body of a man, bent over as if inspecting something on the cold floor. His naked flesh seemed to radiate a very slight violet glow, smooth and unmarred. Slowly it stood, flesh unmarred and unnaturally smooth, like a newborn child's. It stood to full height, and slowly turned to face the assembled.

"Ave! Ave! Ave Domini Caerick!" The Obsidian Cohort had raised their fists and weapons, giving a cheer for their ressurrected Lord.

"That's not Trevarus Caerick," Lords Muz and Paladin said in unison. The Amulet of Orian was clenched in a fist, covering his right hand. The violet glowing eyes offset by the glowing orb that denoted the Mark the Wanderer. Black hair framing a face as cold and maniacal as one who had seen Hell, and returned.

The Dragon was Ascendant.

Shan Long took a deep breath, just standing still. He didn't even seem to be studying the warriors arrayed against him. He simply was.

And when the Dragon opened his mouth, a tidal wave of raw Force power washed over the group.

"He has done it," Paladin said. "Yet it appears Thunder has roared, and destroyed the man. Such power. Such unbridaled power." The Dark Lord merely stood in awe. There was no trace of insanity, no lingering trendril of malice or hatred. What he sensed instead, seemed to be a perfect Command. This being embodied power, yet it do not ripple, eddy, or waver. It simply was. A pure output of direct current. Enough energy to power a star system, he carried the analogy forward in his mind.

Even Tron seemed to have hesitated for a moment, as if he sensed what the Dark Lord was thinking.

Shan Long raised his right hand finally, and somewhere to the assembled right was a faint scream. A suit of Zeta armor had crashed empty and lifeless to the ground. It lay for a second, then in twin thunderclaps that were inaudibly seperate, the armor appeared on the naked body of Shan Long. He had not covered his face.

"I am the Force. I am your God." The Dragon said at last. "I am Shan Long."

In his mind's eye, he could see the Kintan Strider cross the fork. The game was finally at an end.

Muz raised an eyebrow at the Krath Master, before turning to Paladin, a thread of silent thought passing between them before his head nodded. A knowing glance passed between the Krath Lord and his Consul wife before he turned and moved to the left. She knew what would happen next. Words were not necessary.

The Lord had no time for religious debates. He was here for the heretic, first and foremost.

The dark armor of the Obsidian Cohort clanked in front of him, barring the path as if they planned to funnel him into the Long's path. A glint of amusement crossed his sable eyes for a moment, the Keibatsu staring intently through them, his goal plainly beyond. Muz stepped forward and they simply ceased to be. There was no crash of lightning, no roar of power, just a vague uneasiness left in the air.

Shin stared at the path of his brother, his mind recoiling as it tried to remember what he had seen, trying to recall the enemy position before... and he felt himself scream on the inside that it wasn't supposed to work that way. Macron blinked away the madness from his eyes, quickly following the Krath on his search for the Falleen.

Shan stepped forward, his eyes burning with the cool fire of controlled malice. Shin'ichi turned, his hands filling with sabers as he regarded his former master. Eyes locking with Ashia's for a moment, the pair developed a quick plan across their force bond that would allow them to fight as one.

Astronicus drew his hands forth, casting a sidelong glance at Paladin as he took up a fighting stance.

Paladin nodded, another patient ring of smoke rising from his pipe.

This is your dish to savor, not mine.

Tron snarled at himself. Now, the Grand Master would stay his hand. As much as the Overlord wanted to taste the betrayer's blood himself, he wanted the backup to ensure that the deed would be done, that their crimes would not go unpunished. Tron stepped back, flicking his wrist with three fingers extended. Ashia and Shin took up defensive poses as the Dlarit forces and the Clansmen stepped forward, leveling weapons at the armored dragon.

"Open Fire."

----------------

Muz stepped through the wreckage, dark eyes scanning for the monster he knew lay here, stunned and scrambling. Muz felt along the edges of sense, tasting his prey's breath on the stagnant winds. Oh yes, he was still here... and he was still alive.

Spinning his saber in his hand, he let the crimson and violet spill from the highly customized hilts, their nearly silent blades casting long and eerie shadows in this forsaken place. The Keibatsu moved with purpose, driven by an almost fanatical devotion to his cause.

The ring screamed at him, the flood of filth that washed over his muscles at his merest thought nearly sweeping his mind away. Muz held on, pressing forward, energized, emanating raw wrath and violence. There was no way around it. And like every other he had been sent to deal with before, Muz would be the one left standing there when it was all over.

Macron kept himself a few paces back, fascinated by the flowing energies that seeped through and around them here, but unwilling to chance crossing the eldest's vision for fear of the rumored beast. Thoughts crossed his mind, plans built on contingencies and happenstance. Macron cackled quietly, absently letting his lips betray his emotions as he pressed his mind to use.

Few knew the real truth. Macron wasn't mad. He was brilliant.

And while the monsters battled, the earth would shake, but his brilliance would plant the seed that would unravel Vexatus' world. That would teach the 'Prophet' for taking and not giving back. That would prove that at the end, he was better than the Falleen. To betray the betrayer... yes.

Treachery is the way of the Sith.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

The universe had turned dark as the last whispers of life fizzled out from the broken form of the Falleen once known both as Xanos Zorrixor and Darth Vexatus, not with a bang but with a whimper. In those last moments he had finally ascended, achieving a moment of perfect union, having become one with the Force.

Then he had fallen.

It had felt like an eternity but in fact it was mere seconds. The Heart had exploded, impaling him with a thousand voices, then a hundred thousand, then a million. His entire body had felt like it was in fire as he fell from the sky, twisting and turning before he collided with the earth, slamming head first into a mangled mess of broken bone and charred flesh. The fragments had erupted into flames, cremating what remained of the Dark Lord. The Falleen had felt their energy dissolve into his flesh, burning what remained of his body in the process until he was nothing more but a scorched cadaver.

The cry of the Dragon had felt light years away. Trevarus Caerick had died. Pain rocketed through his body as his lips bent into a smile, his burnt face literally cracking in the process. He had all but forgotten everything but the roaring fire that threatened to incinerate his entire body. He was dying.

In his mind he thought he heard voices calling out from another universe. His ears were well and truly ruined beyond all usefulness. Through the Force he thought he could hear laughter.

They were mocking him.

A flash of rage emanated from his body. This was not how his story ended.

It began with a spark. The spark became a flame then the flame became an inferno. The heat began to rise as he felt his body begin to eat itself from the inside. He felt as if he was going to die but that pain only fed the inferno further. The Falleen felt an insatiable hunger growing and he submit himself totally to the call of the dark side.

This was not how it ended.

The blue flames that had enveloped his body grew stronger as despite all the pain that fought to turn his world white he persisted, forcing himself off the ground, pressing on despite his bones being broken in a hundred places. He was still missing an arm and a foot but it did not matter. The flesh was irrelevant. There was only the embodiment of power and the will to drive to it.

He was Chaos.

The Falleen rose, his body still wrapped in flames as he dragged himself to his feet. The voices were nearing and he forced his eyes open, feeling as if they were going to melt under the heat. Through the blue screen of fire he saw two figures approaching. He recognised both. They had once been friends of the being he had once been. No longer. He was nothing now. Only death.

He was vaguely aware of the sound of lightsabers hissing to life and the twin faces of rage staring across at him. He no longer feared. There was no victory, no defeat. Trevarus Caerick was dead. He was the Master now. Lord of the Universe. His broken jaw fell open and a twisted growl that resembled a laugh issued forth. It mattered not anymore. The Heart was gone.

All that was left was death and how many he could take with him before he died.

When he tried to speak his voice was gone. He had no tongue. His throat had been burned with the rest of his body. Instead his meaning resonated through the Force. The only sound a bestial howl.

I am the darkness in which all life dies.

A wall of energy erupted forth and Muz Keibatsu and Macron Goura were blasted back into one of the stone pillars like ants. The flames raging around the Falleen’s body surged as he gracefully strode to where one of the Iron Fist members lay nearby. The Dark Lord bent over and his incinerated hand closed around the blackened helmet of the man.

With a gentle tug, the head tore free, the Falleen ripping it from the man’s body. He allowed the head to fall to the floor before raising the helmet to his face, lowering the black screen over his head to mask his flayed features. Even through the black visor the three glowing suns that were his eyes blazed forth. Opening his hand, a lightsaber flew into his grasp, a blue blade flashing to life.

The Darkness turned and his gaze fell upon the two infidels who had sought to mock him.

Death comes for you, screamed the newborn god with a horrifying howl. If he was destined to die so would everyone else. The flames swept around his arms like predatory wings before he charged.

OOC: To clarify, Shan Long has used the latent power of the Heart to heal himself compared to Vexatus who has decided if he is to die to just take everyone with him. His body is still a physical wreck but he has passed beyond mortal restraints, so do not expect to him to fall down. His body is currently still on fire.

In simple terms, I envision a lightsaber duel first during which nothing will hurt him. After a futile struggle against a seemingly invincible foe, Macron will poison him which will send him utterly crazy causing him to destroy himself.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


He felt a on edge, unaware. After fifteen years of imprisonment, with only brief interludes of escape, the Dragon was restless. He knew, but he did not know. He recognized the difference for some inhumane reason, and was amused. He stood still while Astronicus Sadow ordered the remnants of Caerick's.. no... his army fired into empty air as the Lion devoured them. Was he now Shan Long-Sadow? He wasn't certain. Nor did he care. The immediate circumstance was apparent. He must fight. He craved solitude, he craved isolation, yet his hand had been forced by the man he supplanted; and so many years had he yearned, a ghost in the body of the madman,

Then it awoke. The broken form of Xanos Zorrixor, known now as Darth Vexatus. An irritation indeed, thought the Dragon. Thunder was vexed. Again, the visual and verbal interplay amused him. That he had time for amusement nearly bent the Dragon over with laughter. His life was not at stake here, so soon after his Awakening. Like a man does after opening his eyes from a long and restful slumber, the Thunder Dragon was coming to his senses slowly. He had time, there was no need to rush affairs. His soldiers had fallen back into a tight defensive net. He watched their play of position and fire, and while he didn't know how he understood, he admired their strategy.

Then it fully awoke. In the force of its rage, Muz and Mononoke Keibatsu were thrown back. The Dragon had began a slow walk forward, feeling out its new body with trepidation. As both men clambered to their feet, their eyes turned to Shan Long.

In a thunderclap, the twin lightsabers of the dead man appeared in his hands. He moved into the careful considerations of the Kirili Variant of Makashi. How he knew this, again he didn't know. He simply moved. Lightsabers of black, with a shimmering aura of ultra-violet intensity radiated as a corona around the blade. He stood in the ready position, waiting for Muz Sadow to meet him.

The Master, Shadow Hand and Lord of the Sith stood, evenly eye to eye with the Thunder Dragon. A heartbeat passed, then two.

Without a word, Shan Long and Muz Keibatsu-Sadow bowed, simultaneously and without a word passing between them. The Lion answered the Dragon, and the Dragon answered the Lion. There needed to be any other word. This fight was not theirs, nor would they settle this feud.

Muz rose from genuflection, a mirror image of Shan Long. They both turned, their attention now to their true quarrel. Steeling himself, the Dragon felt the rage of the Overlord.

It was a pebble cast into the storm surge. Two lightsaber strikes cast Astronicus back to the feet of the man he thought would protect him. Shan Long recognized the face of Jedgar Octavius Paladin, and knew it well. Yet, he had never seen it before. Seeing the man smoking casually, he suddenly craved a cigar; a glass of scotch. Whatever those were. Yet, in a small part of his subconcious, he knew.

The Lion had obliterated half of the Cohort, yet scattered shots rang from every direction. A small team of his black clad warriors had fallen into severely defensive positions. Shan Long stood, his lightsabers still at ready.

Waiting.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Macron snarled in rage as he recovered from the Force-push. He looked about at the strange scene, gaging his foes and deciding where to apply his vile efforts first. Let the big boys handle the others, he thought. I’ll work on the Cohorts left first and then betray my Master when he is weak. Such is the Way of the Sith.

He raised his hands, one saber-laden hand deflecting a careening blaster shot with his tangerine-colored blade. The other waved at the few remaining Cohorts as he tapped into the knowledge of telekinetics. A wave of Force energy hit them like a tank, slamming them into the back of the wall. Two got back up, scrambling for their weapons as Macron used the Ninth Tier of power. Their forms were wrapped in invisible bands of Force that crushed every bone in their bodies with a crackling sound as their body armor imploded. Macron laughed with satisfied glee.

As the duels began to start behind him, he sped with a burst of Force-enhanced speed toward the Cohorts that were now struggling to their feet. Dark energy engorged his body, strengthening him as he pulled on the Dark Side to gird his synthetic flesh. The Warlord began to swipe at them with his searing lightsaber, removing limbs like an insane arborist with the screaming orange blade. “Hehahahehe!” Mac chortled as the battle-rage took him. Knees flew, kicks were thrown, and the Armor Fist crushed limbs and bones alike with masterful Echani strikes. Gods, it felt good to take more lives, he thought.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

As was often the case with beings of disparate power, the lesser were often ignored by the “greater.” The overlooked Equite mused that this situation was no exception.

Tsainetomo strolled largely disregarded along the periphery, in no way awed by the display, his detached demeanor allowing him to look on with unclouded eye, observing as was his chosen lot; after all, someone had to live to tell the tale, and there were no guarantees when it came to the gargantuan struggle that had just begun. Lines had been drawn, sides chosen; he clearly hadn’t been counted amongst those who would be the writers of what very well may have been the penultimate chapter in the Clan's lore.

The Rollmaster was not entirely content to be a casual observer, however. His Seal of Loyalty attested to his mien, and his mastery of fourth tier powers made his alliance evident, as those Cabalists who sought sneak up on the whirlwind that was his cousin Mononoke found themselves violently rebuffed, victims of the Force Combat technique he employed. In his circumambulation of the chamber, any Cabalist who strayed in his tripartite gaze for too long fell to the stone floor, hit with unseen strikes to face, chest and back; the Archpriest, even in this arena of giants, was not without his talents.

His ‘saber arm was also tested, to be sure; Djem So’s aggressive fluidity soon dispatched the errant enemy who got within range.

Even as he dealt with the immediacy of the moment’s combat, the Keibatsu still had the mind to keep the wide angle in full view. A superb tactician, he had been named the Abomination’s Prime for good reason, and when that aspect of Shin’ichi’s psyche finally manifested, Tsainetomo would need to be fully focused. There was still a plan to be enacted, though a small wrinkle had developed, what with his inability to communicate beyond the hypergate with the others that had apprenticed themselves to Shin.

Still, he would still do good, still play a role; the Fullness of Time would dictate where his sunset blade would finally join Shin’s amethyst and ruby columns in seizing the glory long owed to them both.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Gunfire dissolved into nothingness as shots rained upon the Falleen once known as Xanos Zorrixor. His eyes were no longer remotely human, having become black pits, predator’s eyes. Deep in their heart burned the celestial fires of creation itself, visible even through the blazing inferno that had consumed him.

His sight fell upon the soldiers who had fired at him and instantly they turned to dust. Throughout the room there was a sudden and brief lull, unnoticeable, but through the Force the shock resonated plainly.

One to embody the power...

The liturgy of Darth Bane echoed. He had become the Living Force. Or so he had intended. No. He had become death. He had become the pure embodiment of Chaos. He was Darkness.

Muz Keibatsu moved away from Shan Long and strode confidently back toward the Dark Lord, his lightsabers blazing at his sides, his eyes resolute, determined to do what must be done. There was only one way this could end. That was with whatever remained of the Falleen joining the rest of him in death. There was no other option. The Force itself depended on it.

The Falleen raised a hand and a line of commandos flaked away into nothingness, the Dark Lord shooting bursts of power that were literally tears in the fabric of space, turning the men into less than dust. Through the fire he heard a voice.

“Vexatus!”

His mind centred on the man whom had uttered it. He was a shining light in the Force. The Falleen stayed his hand and allowed his gaze to fall upon the form of Lord Keibatsu. He had blasted this one away not moments before. Clearly this creature did not learn. How convenient. He would enjoy robbing him of his soul. Within the flames and shattered helmet the Dark Lord smirked, drinking of the renewed pain that flooded his body more with every second. He drank of the suffering, not just his own but of the death that surrounded him. As each life blinked out of existence he felt his power grow feeding his hunger ever more.

Muz had settled into Sokan, his stance utterly aggressive as he readied himself for battle. This was not a time for defence or holding back. The Shadow Hand felt the hand of the entire Council on his shoulder. It was his duty to end this. Not just for the Brotherhood but the Universe itself.

There were no more words. The Krath Lord could sense there was nothing left of the man once called Xanos Zorrixor to reason with. He had become a whirlwind of pure destruction, having devoured even his own soul. There was nothing left to say, only to act.

A feral scream emanated from the flames followed by a raspy growl laced with raw animosity. What remained of the Falleen recognised the agent of the Star Chamber for what he was. Hatred erupted in his heart and the fire sweeping his body raged. Any other he would have devoured instantly, incinerating them without a second thought. But this one. This one carried with it an echo of a past betrayal. This one was not deserving of a clean death. The Darkness would teach this one pain.

The Falleen raised the blue blade he held gripped in his remaining hand. Inside his helmet his lipless mouth twisted into a smile. His very body seemed to float, oblivious to his lack of a foot before his arms opened like wings, blue fire raging and he rocketed toward the Shadow Hand, their lightsabers erupting in a blinding flash of protest as battle was joined.

Since time began, there has been war. Wars over resources, over ideals, over the affections of a particular woman. So much blood has been spilled that it seemed at times as though the worlds were drenched in it.

Lehon was soaked in blood and hate, and it would never dry.

Even as the one who was known as Vexatus burned, it would not dry. Crippled in form, the falleen flung himself at the other Lord. His saber darted, trying to drink in the flesh of the shadow hand, ignoring the blows that sank into his own form.

Defleecting the Prophet's blows, Muz sought to cleft his foe's head from his shoulders, but did not find the chance between the cerulean strokes. Instead slashing at targets of opportunity, the Lion of Tarthos carved swaths of flesh from the heretic's hide. Muz bounded back from the clash, his eyes narrowing as he watched the falleen float forward, ignoring the bits of flesh that fell from his body, burning into piles of detritus on the stone.

Vexatus was beyond pain.

Muz spun the ring on his finger, pulling the sickness of the shadow across his muscles, speeding his perceptions and quickening his pulse. His blades spun in maddening form, non-euclidean angles of attack snaring against unconcerned meat and snarling adegan energy.

Those who watched on gave pause at the spectacle. Here were possibly the two most learned scholars of Tulak Hord's lessons, locked in lethal and hate-filled combat. They moved deftly, their blades singing their songs of destruction as they maneuvered around each other, each mind almost instinctively testing theories and possibilities before committing to the next stroke. This was no mere duel.

This was war, writ large on a small page.

Muz felt the pain course up his arm, the reverberation of his foe's blade causing his mind to react by converting the attack into raw energy. Using the power to seal the wound almost instantly, his hand presented a blow back to the heretic, his amethyst wrenching the Prophet's cerulean out of his grasp.

Vexatus's mind did not stutter, his own ruined stump unleashing a torrent of raw hate, the dark blue bolts seething toward the Keibatsu as his empty hand projected a wall of force.

Muz crossed his sabers in front of him, drawing the lightning into his weapons so he could focus his mind against the tidal force of the Heretic's telekinesis. A lesser man would have been crushed like an insect beneath a rancor's heel. The Krath Lord would not go that easily. Digging his heels into the stone, he was pushed back slowly, weathering the gale, folding the stone beneath him like fabric as the Prophet continued to push.

Macron moved with the distraction, his hand guiding the injector physically, rather than risk missing with the well-practiced telekinesis of the Inner Order. The thick guage needle slipped between the Falleen's tiny scales, and Macron felt the blue fire that supped on the Vexatus' flesh on his own knuckles as he drove the plunger home.

The microbes squalled like infuriated tu'kata on a microscopic scale, finding themselves and their purpose immediately before them. Vexatus stopped, his power drawing back into himself as he hung in midair, seeking the cause as Macron somersaulted backwards away from him.

Muz panted, dark eyes putting the events together, his mind seeking along the paths of what could be.

Vexatus screamed, an unearthly howl, the death cant of madness issuing from where lips once were.

What have you done?

Urati Kazinal
Antechamber
Lehon


Moving with extreme efficiency, the mouuntain of a man moved through the quiet temple. He trusted that those who had gone before him had cleared mystical obstacles. He didn't relish a fight with ghosts, undead legions or anything else. A Dark Jedi or two, sure, Eosara grinned.

He raised a hand, and his company halted. The remainder of Delta Cabal stood as their Commander studied the Hypergate for a moment.

"Let's hope this thing still works." Eosara said. "Everybody in."


Kazinal Core


"Stand down, my warriors." Shan Long said. His voice was cold, flowing a serpentine trail of malice through the wide chamber. He was not distracted by the fight of the Lion and the Heretic. The last surviving members of Zeta Cabal retreated at their Lord's orders. Dlarit weapons fell silent for a moment.

Astronicus rose from where the Dragon had struck him down. Four DAC's and perhaps a score of lesser Special Operations warriors charged forward with him. Rifles belching fire, a lightsaber flashing, nothing perturbed the Dragon until he finally struck.

Shan Long raised his hand, and everything stood still for a moment. Astronicus barely deflected a blaster shot to the face. Amazement, soon turned to realization. His own men were firing on him. Shifting his feet, he leapt into action. His lightsaber flashed efficiently, striking down two DACs in one motion. His mind was only on one thing, murder. The Overlord went on a rampage, destroying the puppets of the madman. It was over in a few moments. A carrion field of sundered flesh lay around him, loyal men who had been mind-raped.

And the Overlord was enraged.

Shan Long stood still now, lightsabers held in pure aggression. He studied the man raging, watched him with an amused smile while his eyes shone. When the last of his own men fell, the Dragon knew the time was right. He struck with all fury, like a bolt of lightning. Perhaps by pure instict, the Overlord managed to parry his blow. The force of it broke his right arm. Tron ignored the wound, pressing forward. The Dragon tasted his pain, and struck again. He swirled around the Overlord, moving like a whirlwind. He rained a light rainshower of strikes upon the man, many were parried, but most left skindeep gashes in the man.

When Shan Long next appeared, it would seem that the Overlord had been joined. Tsainenomo and Ashia Keibatsu stood with Astronicus, lightsabers at ready.

The Dragon roared, and leapt forward.

Urati Kazinal
Core
Lehon

It seemed that, with the rebirths of the two dissenters, the Sadowan Force-users were forced to revert to their basest personalities to ensure their survival. All the better; higher minds would not be well suited for the task of living with the memory retention of the next few moments.

Ashia stood feral-eyed, able to retain the training she had so long endured under the Shadow Hand’s tutelage, but relying on her Nightsister heritage to impel her to act in making sure her Clan did not fall; she threw wave after wave of malicious intent at Shan Long, powerful enough to fell any other foe. Shan Long merely shrugged the assault off. Ashia would have no recourse but to physically make her will known to the usurper. And speaking of the Shadow Hand, all the Keibatsu felt the ominous presence of Ashen bubbling at the surface of Muz's psyche, even as he and Mononoke did battle with the Falleen, his inky influence lapping at the edges of all their consciousnesses.

Shin’ichi above all else seemed most affected by the changes in the ether, the voices of a thousand damned Rakata screaming in his mind, calling forth images of blood-soaked eviscerations and tendon-snapping crucifixions on a hundred far-flung worlds, and he willingly let the horror known only as the Abomination take possession of his movements, stalking the would-be Avatar of the Final Way with a hate that would gorge even the most hardy of souls. An inhuman growl issued from beyond his vocabulator, and his twin ‘sabers snapped to life, visible to Tsainetomo and Astronicus just over Shan Long’s shoulders, their crimson and violet hues reflected in the Rollmaster’s tripartite eyes.

Tsainetomo, face to face with the terrible maw of the Dragon, did not falter. His calculating mind raced through dozens of possibilities, and instinct allowed him to live a moment longer. He reached for and grasped the inert body of a slain DAC trooper in the Force; telekinesis thrust the corpse in between him and Shan Long. His prey momentarily blocked from view, the Dragon hesitated for a split-second, but it would not be enough for the Archpriest to totally escape injury. Even as Tsainetomo threw a sunset-colored scythe to strike through the corpse and on to the Dragon, the latter countered with a vicious counter-stroke, cleaving the DAC’s form neatly and meeting the Keibatsu’s blade midway. The resulting shock bodily catapulted Tsainetomo away from him, causing the Rollmaster to tumble unceremoniously amidst the smoking upper half of the corpse, its arms entwining limply around his own limbs and covering the Archpriest in gore.

Even before Tsainetomo would stop rolling, Astronicus and Ashia rushed forward as one, the Overlord swinging high and the Consul sweeping low, and Shin’ichi leapt on Force-assisted legs, seeking to pounce on Shan Long’s seemingly unprotected back.

The Dragon smiled.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Vexatus felt as if he was going to die. It was as if his entire body was trying to tear itself apart. His body was breaking down on a cellular level. Molecules eviscerating themselves under the assault of the fatal toxin the alchemist had injected him with. He was drowning in his own pain. Lightning seemed to snake its way across Vexatus’s body. Within the flames that consumed him his skin was beginning to crack and break apart, whole sections peeling off. His body was dying. The toxin was attempting to dissolve his entire being. There was but one decision left to make.

He chose to embrace destruction.

Vexatus drank of the dark side, surrendering utterly to the void. If he was to die, he would take the galaxy with him. His anger focused on the figure wielding a set of amethyst blades before him. A fork of dark lightning shot from his broken arm. Muz was suddenly jerked backwards, his feet tiptoeing over the edge of the fiery pit far below as his arm shot out to grab hold of a nearby pillar, narrowly stopping himself from falling to his doom. The Falleen spun while the Shadow Hand was distracted, raising his hand before unleashing a blast of energy that literally hurled Macron across the chamber.

The alchemist yelled as he slammed heavily into one of the clawed pillars, the force of the impact shattering the ancient stone monolith. Only his armoured bodysuit saved him, absorbing most of the impact and narrowly giving the man time to crawl out from under before the stone collapsed on top of him. His spine throbbed with pain where he had crashed. Keying a switch on his arm to release a flood of stimulants and painkillers, Macron managed to drag himself to his feet, stumbling slightly as he did so.

Vexatus was on his knees breathing heavily. The fire enveloping his body was now burning with an almost blinding blue light. One of the Cohort praetorians wandered too close only to be incinerated by the flames when they suddenly swelled outward. An unholy scream erupted through the chamber as Vexatus hunched over, a pulse of energy rippling through the air and shattering the pillars that still ringed the platform. Even the very mountain itself seemed to quake.

The entire chamber turned to stare, the pulse of energy nearly knocking them over. The fight lulled for an instant as even Shan Long glanced at where the being who had once been Trevarus Caerick’s apprentice now hungered for death.

A cold scolding voice both strange and familiar at the same time echoed in Vexatus's mind. Don’t let it control you.

The warning drove Vexatus to the brink. He cried out in rage and far below Urati Kazinal itself seemed to answer back with a rumble that shook the chamber raining debris from high above. The Falleen no longer cared what anyone thought. He had become the pure embodiment of power. He was the Universe. He was God. He was the Living Force. His will was absolute. He would never surrender. He was eternal.

A guttural roar shook the platform as Vexatus pulled himself to his feet.

“I think I just made him mad,” yelled Macron as he cautiously approached the Dark Lord from behind once more, limping slightly where one leg had nearly been crushed under a piece of falling debris. The Shadow Hand was closing the gap opposite, the pair converging on the seemingly unarmed Falleen. But they knew better than to think Vexatus defenceless.

Macron’s armour started to glow red hot as the pair sprung to a simultaneous chorus of “For Sadow!” The flames emanating from the Falleen were fast growing unbearable. Muz’s robes caught on fire but they had to end this. Lightsabers were met with a shimmering wall of black as barriers of dark energy sprung up to block their attacks, deflecting the blades of energy harmlessly aside.

Vexatus’s eyes blazed with raw hatred. His arms erupted and more forks of lightning arced toward the two would be assassins in rapid succession as he began to twist and turn, dodging every blow as he surrendered himself entirely to his pain, becoming a pure engine of destruction. Pain no longer had any meaning for him. His hand blistered, his skin peeled, his cells begged for release. The potent neurotoxin continued to tear through his body. Vexatus was losing all control. His mind lost to his own pain as he fought the battle inside as much as out. Deep inside the Darkness screamed.

The Shadow Hand landed a blow that should have sheared through his remaining arm but for the orbalisks that now encrusted his upper arm. The Falleen met the attack with lightning, blasting the Keibatsu away once more. Vexatus’s mind was fast becoming lost to a fury older than the universe itself. Only his will was holding his body together, stopping the potent neurotoxin from dissolving him into less than nothing. He was the Sword. The Shield would at last be broken. The Final Order was at hand. His will had become the Final Way.

I herald Chaos. All life exists to feed my power.

Inside his cells burned as the toxin melted his insides and the poison gradually began to take hold. But the Falleen did not relent. Pain was nothing next to his will. He drank of his own death. Flesh was meaningless. In the shadows a figure moved rapidly in his direction but he no longer bared it notice. The mundane were of no consequence. All that mattered were those who defied his will. All blasphemers would face oblivion. The mundane were but ants beneath the eyes of God.

The Falleen’s blood began to boil and his gaze fell across the greatest heretic of them all. His hate poured out as he stared across at where Lord Keibatsu readied himself for a further attack, the alchemist at his side. The pair breathed heavily, faces covered in sweat, clothes ripped and scorched. Lightning crackled around Vexatus’s body as he readied himself for release. He would at last bring this to an end. The Hand of the Star Chamber would be destroyed.

Vexatus began to draw the dark energies into him...

Behind him he suddenly heard a lightsaber snap-hiss to life. Before the Dark Lord could react he felt fire burning through his ribs into his chest. He tried to scream but remembered he no longer had a voice. The blade reached his heart.

A second later it was all over. He heard the blade retract with a sharp zzzp. Vexatus spun and his eyes went wide in horror as he was faced with a ghost. The creature before him did not exist. Dead to the Force. Mundane. Serpentine eyes stared back at him like a snake. Mocking him. Its lips twisted into a cruel smile.

Vexatus stood motionless for a moment, staring down in bewilderment at the gaping hole through his chest. He raised his hand to feel the smouldering wound imagining it must have been a trick. It was an illusion. A dream. It had to be! His fingers rubbed the rim as pain rocketed through his body. Excruciating. Nothing the Embrace had done to him compared to this. Distracted, the neurotoxins had taken root. He felt his body begin to break down and his entire skin caught on fire. He felt as if his face was going to melt.

The Falleen's gaze lifted back to the cold snake eyes staring back at him. The look of mild amusement. The mocking grin. Rage erupted from Vexatus’s eyes. His palm thrust out and the creature that should not have been was blasted back. The Dark Lord reached out and crushed the insect before him with his will, obliterating the mundane object.

The mundane were like ants. This was impossible. He could not be defied!

Suddenly a second will rose to oppose him. Vexatus felt his mind being pushed back. Across the chamber a burning light in the Force flashed into existence and the ghost returned into life. Vexatus stared. How could this be? How could a mundane hold such power?

“I am the Scorpion.”

Vexatus raised his arm to crush the creature into dust but before he could the assassin was gone. The Falleen fell to his feet and hunched over on all fours, smoking from his wound. His life was ebbing out of being. His will divided as he fought to maintain consciousness, unable to hold the neurotoxin at bay. He was finally going to die. Beaten by an insect. A mundane. Defeated by his own arrogance.

NO! I...will...not...DIE!

The Dark Lord erupted as flames enveloped his entire being. Vexatus screamed as any last pretense of control was lost. His voice erupted with agony as he unleashed a thunderous wail of suffering that drowned out all other sound. The volcano itself answered back, crying out in fury, the mountain shaking as rock and stone rained from the heavens. Far below the fires raged in tune with the Falleen as he summoned the full fury of the Nine Hells, becoming Chaos incarnate.

If death was to be his fate then Vexatus would see the Universe burn along with him.

Kazinal Core
Lehon


Crackling sparks flared around the Dragon. He struck, his limbs flying in a rage of the storming hurricane. There was not rhyme or reason, no logic to each strike. Astronicus, Ashia, Tsainetomo they merely fended the fury that was Shan Long. They had no hope of defeating it, they merely survived it. An effort of three on one.

Tron cast a quick eye to the rear of combat. There. The one that could end this merely sat smoking that damnable pipe. He would not intervene, he did not care. He merely watched

An accursed Krath Scholar. The Overlord though, his blade spitting fire against the heresy that was the Thunder Dragon.

Shan Long in turn unleashed a blow of energy that blew the three to the ground.

His Apprentice was losing control, power was flooding into the Force, screaming hatred. Spewing a bile of decades spent hating, fearing, lusting. The change had broken Shan Long, but he had learned Command. His sight was deep, far into the Construct. Vexatus was slipping away.

"Vexatus" he bellowed in the Force "Command, you must learn Command!"

Never... my... Master... all is death... I am death... we are death... blackness... only blackness....

Thunder raged as battle pressed. His adversaries pressed forward, recovering. Lightsabers flaring, Shan Long stepped back. He sensed a change in the fray of battle. His foes were nothing compared to the cyclone brewing.

"I am Thunder, I am the Hurricane.... die!" Therefore he unleashed a flare of lightning, a flood of thunder. Bone and flesh were married as the Lord of the Marked unleashed what he had stolen. Three fell, crackling under his inferno. None of of the remaining D:SOG had survived, a number of Zeta Cabal had retreated upon the order of Shan Long. There was nothing to survive except those who could weather a storm of the Force. Yet, even now, Shan Long felt his power waning.

He abandoned his immediate foes. They had risen, ready to fight. Instead, the Dragon lept forward, his lightsabers disappearing in a thunderclap. Lord Muz and Mononoke were cast to the ground, their weapons sputtering lifeless. Shan Long gripped the shoulders of what remained from the broken body of his Apprentice.

"You must control. You must command. Calm, or all is lost!" Thunder screamed.

He stared into the void that was Darth Vexatus. There was nothing behind his eyes, they were lifeless, yet shimmering with red energy. He had a vague memory of something. Voices calling out of the darkness, from the void. Dreams of blood and flesh. That was the death of Vexatus. His Apprentice, yet somehow he didn't know the man. He merely saw the inferno for what it was, ready to break the flesh of the being.

The powerful voice of Lord Paladin shouted over the melee. "Flee! Flee! There is nothing left to fight. Flee to fight another day. Master and Apprentice are about to fall, and they will sunder this world in their hubris." Paladin calmly lowered his voice and took another draw on his pipe. "Flee before their death destroys you."

"Command! You must Command!" Shan Long screamed, his thrice eyes screaming violet rage. He reached into the Weavery, seeking some means of control. Yet, he found the most shattered of all webs possible. There was no hope. His Apprentice was shattered. There was nothing.

At that moment, Eosara entered through a hypergate. Faster than would seem possible, he had crossed the expanse in the chamber. He touched Shan Long on the shoulder.

"My Lord, it is time." the Seneschal simply said.

The Dragon surveyed what he saw, what was possible, what was inherent. Nodding carefully, he followed his Seneschal. He knew what lay forward.

Kazinal Core
Lehon

Shan Long hastily followed his Seneschal to the nearest hypergate. He paused when he neared the glistening silver archway, gently running a finger across one of the stones. Memories of the past, the present and the future all combined flooded his mind. Thoughts of what had been and what still could come to pass.

A loud crash brought the Dragon back to the present. He glanced back, watching as a section of the circular platform broke free of its restraints and tumbled down toward the rising tide of lava. In the center of the platform Darth Vexatus knelt, barely holding himself together. In the Weavery he could still see the fault lines as the Falleen fractured into nothingness.

Vexatus raised his head. Where there had once been three burning white suns there was nothing but three empty black pits. It was like staring into the depth of a black hole. If there had been any doubt about any part of Xanos Zorrixor remaining inside that broken shell before there wasn’t now. Shan Long felt as if he was staring into the cold empty heart of the void itself.

There was nothing. Nothing but blackness.

A cloud of smoke burst from below filling the chamber. Eosara grabbed hold of the Dragon’s shoulder and jerked him around. “My lord, we must leave. It is too late.”

Shan Long looked back one last time where Vexatus lay huddled in an almost foetal position. The Falleen would not stop screaming. All the pain, all the suffering, all the loss rising to the surface. The sound nearly sent a chill through even the Dragon. Vexatus was lost. His soul and body crushed.

With a grim expression the Dragon turned back to the shimmering gateway. There was nothing he could do for his apprentice now. Vexatus was lost to Chaos. He had become an embodiment of the very madness beyond death. The sorcerer had tried to warn him but Eosara was right. It was too late, years too late, maybe decades.

Xanos had accomplished his mission. He had helped uncover the Heart of the Force. But at the cost of his own being. The creature before him, Vexatus, was now nothing but pain and death. The Dragon could not help him now. Vexatus had chosen his fate. Shan Long stepped forward and disappeared into the silver portal with a flash of white light.

The crash of falling rubble drowned out the screams and Darth Vexatus was left huddled in a ball, utterly broken. He raised his hand as his Master disappeared, reaching out, calling to him, begging.

They could not all go. This was not how it was meant to end. The Universe was to be his.

But he was all alone. His body was breaking down and the mountain collapsing. He tried to summon the strength to undo what he had begun but the pain was too great. His sight was beginning to dull and it was all he could do to fight the wounds and poison to remain conscious.

He could feel the heat from the steam rising from the lava below. It was nearing the platform. There was nothing he could do. He could not stop what he had started. It would all be over soon.

He was finally going to die.

And it would mean nothing. His passing would achieve nothing. His death would be meaningless.

Distantly he heard a sultry voice laughing and the visage of a woman’s face flashed before his eyes.

Darth Vexatus understood what he must do.

He let himself go and collapsed. His body slumped to the floor as the final holdings of the massive platform gave way. He felt as his body slide as he rolled across the disc, dislocating his remaining arm as he went and together they spiralled toward oblivion.

The Falleen did not even bother to reach out as he tumbled over the edge. He shut his eyes and curled up into a ball as the bubbling pool of lava rose to meet him. The last thing he felt was fire embrace his whole world. Then there was nothing at all. Only blackness.

Urati Kazinal
Antechamber

Eosara almost stumbled into his master when he suddenly jerked to a halt. The Seneschal primed his blaster and looked round. There was nothing. The corridor was deserted but for the two men.

“My lord we really must be going,” urged Eosara.

Shan Long exhaled sharply, his jaw hanging open. “He’s gone.”

The Seneschal scowled. “Who? What?” Eosara shook his head impatiently, that moment totally uninterested in his master’s riddles. “My lord, if we don’t get to the Sanguinus in time their ships will shoot us down as we try to leave. We must go!”

The Dragon paused another second before he nodded and the pair resumed running.

Lehon Juggle

“Over here!”

Alector had found Agrist severely wounded and unconscious, he had sensed the Battlelord’s getting hurt and took a med-team down to the planet. “Agrist… Agrist… Can you hear me?” A medic pulled the young man to one side as he checked the man out.

“We need to get him back to the Final Way ASAP!”

Isradia nodded and helped the med-team get the Dark Jedi on the stretcher. He felt so powerless, he should have been down here with Agrist, but the Senior Commander never said where he was going.

“OK, let’s leave this hellhole… back to the shuttle.”

The med-team with Agrist on the stretcher and Alector walking beside rushed back to the shuttle.

MCRV Liberator
Hyperspace

Captain Syren sat idly sipping a glass of wine. "Status report."
His lieutenant turned to face him. "Nothing to report, no sign of pursuit on the scanner. We are clear."
Travis nodded. "Good. Maintain course."
"I am pleased to heard that."
Travis turned to see the figure of the Battlelord. "You should be in the medical bay."
Malisane shrugged. "I have plenty of time ahead to rest. If my father is correct about two years."
"Hard to say," Travis replied.
Malisane shrugged. "Yes, we will see."

They both turned as an alarm sounded. "We are leaving hyperspace." the lieutenant reported urgently.
"We are caught in an interdicton field," Malisane said, glancing at the displays as they returned to normal space.
"Emergency action, try and escape the field." Travis ordered.
Malisane watched the display. An interdictor cruiser was nearby, keeping them from leaving. The Liberator was fast though, once it left the other ships range they should be able to escape.
"New contact," the lieutenant ordered, leaving hyperspace on our starboard bow."
"On screen," Travis ordered, he paused then gasped. "Look at the size of that thing!"
Malisane had a sick feeling, a horrendous premonition. "We need to leave." he said urgently.
"Are they Dlarit?" Travis demanded.
Malisane shook his head, "No, nor my father." He glanced at the display. "We're caught in a tractor beam, and I know who by."
"We can't get loose," the lieutenant reported.
"They're bringing us in." Travis said desperatley.
Malisane closed his eyes and sighed. He thought desperatley. "Engage self destruct."
Travis gaped at him. "What?"
"Do it, before they take us, " Malisane said, opening his eyes and turning his head to look directly at the Captain, "it will be easier." His eyes bore into the Captain's. "Now Captain, we have little time."
Travis took a deep breath, he had never seen the Sith like this before. "Lieutenant, engage self destruct, authorisation, Captain Travis Syren, code zero zero one one zero one zero one."
The Lieutenant nodded soberly tapped away, then stopped. "Computer not responding."
"Impossible," Travis replied urgently "the systems were checked before we left Orian."
Malisane sighed, watching the screen as they entered a dark docking bay, the immense hatch opening to easily admitt the corvette. "They're good." He turned to Syren. "Captain arm your crew and prepare for boarding. We fight to the death."

Malisane gripped his saber in hand. The pain in his side was throbbing slightly, despite the drugs. Nearby Travis' crew crouched, holding a variety of blasters. There weren't trained soldiers, a collection of pirates and men for hire who Travis had replaced the ships normal crew with under Jenna's nose, but they were dedicated to survival. Travis himself gripped a blaster, the old captain determined for one last fight.
Suddenly the hatch exploded, showing them in sparks, and dark robed shapes entered the corridor, sabers igniting, deflecting the shots from the ships crew. Men fell twicthing as reflected shots sliced through their clothing. A few seconds later the robed figures were amongst the defenders, sabers flashing as the men died. Malisane leapt at one of them, forgetting his pain as his saber sliced through the middle of one of the attackers sending the disembodied figure dead to the floor. He parried a saber aimed at his wounded side and sent his blade through the attackers head and brain, and was rewarded by the enemy falling twitching to the floor. Malisane turned to block another thrust to his body, countering. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Travis fall dead, the Captains head rolling away his neck to stare blankly into space.

"Enough," another figure said quietly from the doorway. Immediatley the robed figures backed away from Malisane, sabers still pointed at him. A glance around him revealed he was the last defender alive, the crew of the Liberator had been massacred. He glanced at the new figure. "Come on then!" he snarled.
There was a chilling laugh. "You have much to tell us Battlelord."
"No!" Malisane rep reducing the length of his saber and preparing to end his life.
The figure in the doorway raised a hand, and the saber exploded, sending a wave of agnoy through the Sith and he clutched his burned hand. "You do not escape that easily." A second later lightning blasted Malisane from his feet, sending him smoking to the ground. He tried to raise his head, but his body was held in an invisible iron grip.
"Bring him." the figure ordered. Malisane struggled helplessly against the force that held him. He felt arms grip and lift him, and a sudden stab of pain as a needle entered his arm. A second later unconsiousness washed over him.

Final Way
Dlarit Star Destroyer

Astronicus Dlarit, Overlord of the Sons and Lord of Sadow leaned back in the lone chair on the Admiral’s Deck. The room was empty but for the shrouded figure staring out the viewport at the far end and surrounded by a thin mist of smoke from his telltale pipe.

Three days had passed since the final battle of Lehon in which the traitor Darth Vexatus had destroyed himself and Trevarus Caerick had finally lost the battle against his true nature, Shan Long. It was not exactly the outcome the Overlord had intended for but Astronicus accepted it. Lord Paladin appeared satisfied and that was all the reassurance he needed. It would serve.

The Krath Master had escaped in the ensuing chaos as his apprentice devoured himself, his destination unknown. But where Shan Long was now was no longer the Overlord’s concern. His Clan was safe. There was nothing the twisted sorcerer could do now. His influence was shattered. His apprentice dead. The threat of Caerick’s master plan had finally been ended.

Powerful as Shan Long was, Astronicus doubted the Krath would ever chance upon another relic that posed as great a risk to the Universe as the Heart of the Force. The Overlord allowed himself a smile at the picture of the ‘great sorcerer’ scouring through wreckage as he renewed his quest for the lost Fragments of Ombus. Astronicus snorted. It served him right. Caerick had got what he deserved.

As for the other, Astronicus spared the memory of Xanos Zorrixor no thoughts at all. The demon the Falleen had ultimately become had killed himself, consumed by his own hunger. No, the Overlord spared neither any pity. They had doomed themselves through their defiance of the Star Chamber. As far as Astronicus was concerned, justice had been served. Master Yoni would no doubt be eager for their next meeting to learn of what had transpired, though Astronicus expected his old master would hear much through Lord Paladin before then, if the Sith Lord had not already done so.

They were still some days away from home. Astronicus slouched back and relaxed as he let sleep take him. He needed it. The war against the Vong may have still been ongoing but he would allow himself this much. After the last few days, he felt he deserved it.

Epilogue

Sanguinus
Private Corvette

Shan Long sat crouched in quarters which had once belonged to Trevarus Caerick on a ship which had once belonged to Trevarus Caerick crewed by followers who had once followed Trevarus Caerick. Now it was all Shan Long’s. The Dragon smiled as he peered out into the endless void, his mind at sea among the currents of the Weavery, following the flow of its many threads.

Trevarus Caerick was gone. Now they were one. A true ascendant.

For Shan Long’s part the quest had been a success. He was whole. The power of the Heart was lost but it was of little consequence. There would be others and he had all the time in the Universe to find them. The Prophecy of Alain Caer was fulfilled. He no longer had anything to fear.

Will was everything. And his will said he was God.

Where he would go now even he did not know. Such was the curse of the Wanderer. The Weavery would take him where he must go. Shan Long allowed his mind to sink deeper into the ageless depths as he immersed himself in thoughts of new thoughts and images. The Heart may have been sundered but he had still drunk of the memories of countless hundreds of echoes. Perhaps somewhere in the history of the Infinite Empire he would find the answers he searched for and the next questions he must answer. Questions led to more questions. That was the eternal truth. Like the Wanderer before him, his journey would never be over.

An image of a burning sun formed in his mind’s eye. It grew and grew until it was joined by another and then another. As they had a thousand times before, the three suns collapsed, burning themselves out while all turned to darkness.

Shan Long smirked. Alain Caer, you are nothing to me now, he thought silently.

The earth crumbled to dust and Shan Long watched as the vision played out as it always did. The Third Sun had risen and fallen just as he had always known it would. Shan Long smiled, reflecting on how Trevarus Caerick had knowingly walked to his doom. He had to respect that much. Not that Caerick had had any idea of knowing which of his apprentices would come out victorious: the Dragon or the Beast.

The dust began to blow away in the breeze as the world slowly crumbled away until there was nothing left but blackness before the nebulous dust cloud coalesced into three black cores. Only these did not burn with life; they were cold and dead, like three dark stars.

The cloud thickened in places, creating the impression of a skull without a jawbone.

"Mine."

Shan Long’s eyes shot open.

The End