Dark Crusade: Prologue Team 18

Welcome to the Dark Crusade Prologue. The following rules are in effect:

1. 250 word minimum per post.
2. 1 post per player, per phase (this will be a three phase run-on separated conducted in 7 day intervals). If a member fails to post during a phase, the team will lose points.
3. Edits may occur on a post until a follow on post has been made (follow on posts include "reserving" a space).
4. Members may reserve post, but no posts can occur until after the reserved post is written.
5. The event will be graded by Raken, Sarin, and Muz using a rubric that focuses on creativity, plot development, realism, and grammar.

Event Timeline:

1. 1-7 January - Signups, Set up starting posts on 7th
2. 8-14 January - Phase 1 posts, 15th = Sarin post, start new phase.
3. 16-22 January - Phase 2 posts, 23rd = Sarin post, start new phase.
4. 24-31 January - Phase 3 posts, and the joys of grading.

You will find the details for phase one here: http://wiki.darkjedibrotherhood.com/view/Dark_Crusade_-_Prologue

Good Luck!

The shuttle jolted slightly as Anshar guided it carefully through the folds of the Shroud. It was not his piloting that was sorely lacking, but rather the age of the shuttle. Somehow, by the time the Dark Council had gotten enough shuttles around, the almost Clone Wars era Lambda shuttle was all that remained for the group Anshar was leading. Had Mirado, of Clan Naga Sadow, not been assigned to the group, Anshar might have started believing that the Dark Council was truly out to get Tarentum. Then again, Anshar could hope to make up for it with his piloting: not only was he the only elder, but his frequent trips to Antei and Lyspair had given him plenty of practice in flying through the Shroud.

“If the layout of this SSD hasn’t been modified, it should be pretty straight forward,” said Jason Hunter, Aedile of Tarentum and a former TIE fighter pilot. “Imperial ships were all built identically.” Jason was talking to the younger members of Tarentum: Dark Jedi Knight Levathan and Protector Tenda. Mirado himself remained quiet for the time being.

“So, all we have to do is secure this extra hangar, right?” asked Levathan.

“I’m sure there will be more than that,” said Jason.

“As long as we’re not dealing with rampaging Force zombies,” said Levathan. “At least I have the Force now. I didn’t know how much it impacted me until it was gone.” Tenda nodded in agreement.

Anshar let the group continue their talk as he focused on flying. A few bright green flashes lanced past the shuttle, but well wide of it. They were getting close to the target vessel: the Super Star Destroyer known as the Avenger II. To be fair, Anshar wondered if they would actually be able to capture the vessel. Given its size and probable crew strength, it would be no easy task. Anshar wondered if there would be any remaining Force sensitives on board, or if Zoraan had brought them all with him to try and depose Muz. Not that the Brotherhood would have followed the former Grand Master. Anshar remembered that time, but not with much fondness.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the aging shuttle thrust through the last of the Shroud, entering a sort of “pocket” of clear space. The pocket was small, though, for most of the Super Star Destroyer was still covered by the Shroud on either end of the ship. The ship was firing some of its turbolasers, but the shots were flying wide and they were sporadic. Anshar could see other Brotherhood shuttles approaching.

“Computer is locked on the docking space,” said Mirado, his only contribution to the conversation.

“Alright, everyone, get ready. I’m taking us in.”

Levathan heard Anshar call out the order to get ready, but only subconsciously registered it, as he looked out the cockpit windows. He had heard and been briefed on the design of the Allegiance class Super Star Destroyer, but seeing it directly in front of him, and knowing they were still a good distance away from it, was an entirely different experience altogether.

“That’s supposed to be the smallest class of SSD?” Levathan said incredulously, with Tenda whistling her own wonderment.

“You’ve never seen the SSD Dreadnoughts, have you?” Jason replied with an amused grin.

The interior of the shuttle flashed green for a moment as a turbo laser bolt narrowly missed them, thanks to Anshar’s quick maneuvering, causing Levathan to almost lose his footing. He hadn’t even realized he was standing till now.

“Back in your seat Lev, this won’t be a smooth ride,” said Jason.

Nodding and regaining his composure, the Knight took his seat and strapped himself in as the shuttle shifted again.
 
As the old Lambda shuttle moved close to the Avenger II, it was evident that more of the turbolasers were beginning to target them. While they were still firing individually and sporadically, it was nonetheless clear that they were slowly becoming a very interesting target to the gunners.
With the Dark Jedi Master at the helm of the aging craft, hauling it through maneuvers that were stressful even in its prime, the shuttle dodged most of the incoming fire while heading at full power for their designated hanger.
 
Levathan was attempting to suppress his nervousness at the alarming creaking and groans of the shuttle’s hull, as it went through maneuvers dodging turbolaser fire, as well as the occasional thump and shake of the occasional glancing strike. Adding to the alarming situation was the increasingly sparking electronic systems, he was by no means a mechanic, but even he could tell the shuttle was falling apart; if they didn’t get hit and blow up, the process of making it there alive would probably destroy the shuttle with all of them in it.

The newly cured Dark Jedi could only laugh at the insanity of the situation.

Levathan’s laughter caught the other occupants of the shuttle off guard. Tenda cast a confused look at him, while Mirado simply arched a brow. Jason allowed a chuckle of his own to roll from his lips as he stood, patting the Knight on the shoulder as he passed him on his way towards the cockpit. “I think I’m beginning to like this guy.”

“Sounds like everyone is having fun back there,” Anshar said as Jason popped his head into the cockpit.

“Oh yeah, we’re all having a blast waiting to get vaped,” the Aedile replied. “Looks like we’re about there,” he added, gesturing towards the gargantuan vessel beyond the relative safety of the Lambda’s fuselage with his chin.

“Getting closer by the moment. Think you can remember your way around one of those?”

“Like the back of my hand. I did only spend the majority of my time in the Hammer shipping aboard the Sov, which is almost identical to one of these dinky Allegiance-class Destroyers. They don’t have the axial superlaser, which makes them decidedly less cool, but it’ll do in a pinch.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t you go get ready? We’ll be touching down soon.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Jason turned to find Tenda and Levathan both in their seats, keeping their minds and hands busy with last minute checks on their weapons and other gear. Mirado, however, was sitting stoically doing everything he could to look bored.

“Okay, kids,” the Corellian said, clapping his hands together for emphasis. “We’re about ready to get this party started. Mirado, care to join me at the ramp?” The Sadowan nodded and rose silently, following Jason aft towards the boarding ramp. Tenda and Lev likewise unstrapped themselves and rose, following the Equites.

Before the cadre had reached the ramp, the shuttle started vibrating and reverberating with the telltale signs of small arms fire. It came in sporadic and rapid bursts, some with more impact than others.

“We’re in the hangar,” Mirado said, the second sentence he had offered since boarding the shuttle.

“And they’re hitting us with heavy weapons, too,” Tenda added, tilting her head to listen for a moment.

Jason nodded his agreement, his hand over the switch that would lower the ramp. “Probably E-Webs, like on the Halberd. Everyone ready?” Two lightsabers ignited in response, filling the dim cabin with subdued illumination—Levathan’s icy blue blade, and Mirado’s deep sapphire. Jason lit his borrowed lightsaber, and the crimson light it cast gave the area a violet hue, one that almost matched his hair.

Activating the switch, the boarding ramp lowered with the grind of unlubricated hydraulics. Outside was a maelstrom of blaster fire; a few bolts glanced off the hull of the shuttle nearby, but most were concentrated on the main body of the fuselage. The white armor of Stormtroopers could be plainly seen. The shuttle was a few meters off the deck and closing, not a height dangerous to the likes of Mirado and Jason.

The Obelisk, though, was the first out the hatch, deflecting blast bolts as he fell towards one particular Stormtrooper who happened to wander too close to the shuttle. The man met an unfortunate end as he was bisected starting at the arm pit in an upwards diagonal angle, ending just above the opposite shoulder. It only took a moment before the lone Sadowan was off, blade twirling and slashing.

Jason glanced over his shoulder at Lev and Tenda. He shrugged before he leapt out, landing in a crouch before dashing in the opposite direction that Mirado had taken and falling on a duo of shocked troopers with much haste and vile.

The initial surprise of Force users erupting from the shuttle quickly wore off as the defenders regrouped. Two E-web blasters turned their murderous fire towards Jason and Mirado, forcing the two equites to hold their ground, protected only by their comrades, Tenda and Levathan. Anshar soon joined the fray, cursing something about a stuck seatbelt. The master's dual wielded lightsabers became a dazzling display of colors more reminiscent of a club scene than a battle. Tenda moved in quickly, lobbing a grenade over the battlefield and square in the middle of the two E-webs. The explosion took out both emplacements, but there still remained more troopers trying to defend against the boarding party.

“We're in danger of getting pinned under this shuttle,” said Jason, referring to the large craft that had immediately been to the left of their entrance. Opposite of the shuttle and slightly further up, three small fighter craft were neatly aligned; however, it was the loading elevator behind the craft that was the true source of the problem. Probably out of sheer speed, the defenders were entering the hangar through the loading elevator, rather than the main door.

“There's another elevator over there,” said Levathan, gesturing quickly before letting loose a hail of blaster fire, taking down at least one defender and causing the others to scatter.

“They're not using it, yet,” replied Jason. “Probably think-” he paused to fire a few shots “-that we've got reinforcements coming. Once they figure out we're it, they're going to try and pin us in.

“Well, we've got to get to that door across the hangar,” said Anshar. “Jason, do those elevators lead anywhere besides storage?”

“Not likely in this hangar,” replied the Tarentum aedile. “Looks like they're going down for another troop run!”

“Alright, Tenda and Levathan, give Mirado and Jason cover fire. Jason, Mirado, take out as many of those troopers as you can, but stay away from the elevators. Go!” ordered Anshar. He leapt out in front himself, wielding his lightsabers to defend against incoming shots. Jason and Mirado joined the fray, slicing their way through the defenders. Those that they missed were killed on incapacitated by Tenda and Levathan. Anshar did not heed them any attention; drawing upon the Force, he let loose a powerful force blast, shoving the second fighter into the now open elevator shaft, effectively sealing it off. Jason and Mirado had finished off the latest wave of defenders when shouts and movement changed their course, disrupting their mere seconds of peace.

“We've got bigger trouble!” shouted Tenda, scrambling away from the defensive position she once held. From the second elevator, a horde of battle droids were beginning to appear; however, it was the three lightsaber wielders that took the most attention. None appeared to be exceptionally strong in the Force, at least not that Anshar could detect. However, they did seem to be confident in themselves, brandishing their red blades. The leapt ahead of the of the droids, armed equally with blood curdling screams meant to discourage their enemies. A Twi'lek, Nikto, and a Bothan, all tattooed in their own way, were met by Jason, Mirado, and Levathan, the lightsabers clashing together.

“Looks like we get the droids,” said Tenda to Anshar. Anshar only nodded as he began to deflect the blaster bolts that had started coming this way.

So caught up was everyone in their new fight that they did not notice the fighter blocking the elevator begin to move.

As Levathan crossed sabers with the Bothan, he could feel the surge of exhilaration, of wielding a weapon that was nigh unstoppable, except when confronted with something descended from the same archetype.

Time seemed to slow and elongate, the Force driving through his very fabric and senses allowing him to pick out minute details of his opponent. Nothing else existed, nothing else needed to exist. Bright flashes and the slight swirling of plasma caused the Knight to wince, yet he could make out the snarl on the Bothan’s lips, and the corded of its arm muscles beyond the violent pulsing of energy. The Bothan reversed its momentum and jumped back, moving as though through a dream, and landing nimbly in a crouch, crimson blade outstretched.

It was then, that Levathan smiled into the glare of the Bothan. He could see it and felt it; the Bothan was young, very young, likely barely into his adulthood with his short, yet vibrant brown facial hair. Levathan knew that in the moment of his clouded time perception, he had left himself very open to attack, and yet instead of pressing, the young Bothan opened the distance between them, likely for a series of aggressive, heavy strikes.

Closing his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and deactivating his icy blade, Levathan heard the hum of the angry red saber get louder as it quickly closed the distance.

He felt and moved using the Force. His eyes shot open, lungs full of air. The Bothan was close, crimson blade extended to skewer him. Overextended with a locked elbow.

Levathan fell to his right, twisting, crimson glow searing through his shoulder pad and singing the skin beneath. As he was falling, he was raising his right hand, as though to punch the Bothan as it hurtled past. Instead, soon as his right arm was at the base of the Bothan’s jaw, he ignited the lightsaber.

The Bothan was dead before it hit the deck in three pieces; half a head and an arm, severed and cauterized lying close to the main body.

Levathan was also on the deck, smoke rising from his burned left shoulder, chuckling to himself at his apparent victory, with his newly forged lightsaber. Yet the weapon felt odd; comfortable yet strange, like a newly met lover; seemingly known from the past yet a total stranger.

Jason was in a different situation, his opponent; a young male Nikto, had already attempted several attacks, yet was unable to break through any of the Aediles defenses. Jason was somewhat curious, as to why there were half trained whelps aboard; while they apparently knew how to handle a lightsaber to some degree, their presence in the force was unrefined, potential without training. Perhaps it was a case that they simply did not have the time?

Now going on the offensive, the Aedile decided to test his opponent, to see what Zorran might had passed down to them, aside from the fiery hate in the Niko’s obsidian eyes.
As he pressed his attack; amber blade pushing back the scarlet, he extended his senses out.

Anshar and Tenda were making short work of the battle droids and remaining stormtroopers; the Dark Jedi Master a whirlwind of destruction, with his dual blades, sending metallic and flesh armored parts flying whilst deflecting blaster bolts back at their origin. With the Protector supporting him with her well placed shots to anything within the Master’s blind sides, there was no concern of them having much trouble with the remaining forces, it was just a matter of grinding them up.

Mirado almost seemed bored. Jason could only give a slight chuckle at how casually the Sadowan had crossed blades with the Twi’lek, slid his sapphire blade down the length of the crimson, and through the wrist of his opponent. Then for good measure, the Mirialan, cut off the Twi’lwk’s other arm with his upward swing, and buried the lightsaber in his back with his downswing as the Twi’lek instinctively tried to protect himself.

He could see that Levathan was lying on his back, his Bothan opponent clearly dead, as was for some reason chuckling while staring at the ceiling of the hanger. The Aedile simply dismissed this as the lingering effects from the Horizon Plague.

Brought back to his own conflict by heat of a narrowly dodged lightsaber swing to his head, Jason could only shake his head at his own inattentiveness, deciding to give his opponent the honor of a good, clean death.

Levathan was contemplating his lightsaber, oblivious to his surroundings, until a fighter hurtled past above him, slamming into the other side of the hanger.

The fighter hurtling into the wall shook the Dark Brotherhood members; everyone turned to face the once fighter occupied position, perhaps hoping that there had been some sort of explosion below the deck. But, there was no such luck. Rising up on the elevator in an overly dramatic way were two menacing looking humans. Physically identical, their pale skin provided a stark contrast to the steel gray of the hangar.

“Look, Frost, we have vermin,” said the twin on the right.
“Very true, Reaper,” replied the second twin. “The ship is apparently full of them.”
“Should we start the extermination, then?” asked the one called Reaper.
“Only after the one with the blue eyes explains why he seems mildly amused,” replied Frost.

“Kark, those voices are annoying,” muttered Jason as he took up a position next to Anshar.

“What I find amusing,” said Anshar, “is that Zoraan chose to name you after those who fought against him the first time around.”

“What do you mean by that, blue eyes?” asked Reaper. “We have been called by our names for as long as we can remember. We are ourselves and we served Zoraan during his last attempt to cleanse the Brotherhood.”

“So, what, you were an Acolyte then?” asked Anshar. “I know the real Frost.”

“Enough!” shouted Reaper. “You will now die.” The two twins ignited their lightsabers, each one brandishing a red lightsaber and white lightsaber. In synchrony, the two twins leapt forward; however, their leap took them not directly into confrontation, but rather they landed about six meters short of Anshar and the others. Bringing their right and left fists down to the ground, somehow managing to not cut each other with their lightsabers, the twins let out a powerful Force shockwave. Even Anshar was thrown back and scattered by the sheer force of the blast, the floor itself dented severely where they had struck it.

Anshar had hit the floor hard, but had kept rolling. Leaping up, both of his lightsabers reignited, Anshar caught the two twins head on. It was all he could do to hold them back, now on the receiving end of his own preferred fighting style. Mirado quickly joined the fray, perhaps his extra sensitivity to the Force providing the extra warning that he needed. Though he managed to draw on the twins away from attacking Anshar, he still struggled to defend himself.

Jason and Levathan joined in, leaving Tenda, the only one without a lightsaber, behind. Jason stepped up to assist Anshar against Frost, while Levathan, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, joined Mirado. The group remained tightly bound, blades swirling and flashing. Suddenly, both twins backed off from their attacks and, standing side by side, unleashed a powerful Force push. Levathan was sent tumbling backwards the furthest. Jason had managed to remain standing, though several feet back. Mirado was in an almost identical place, only on his back. Leaping up, he charged the duo, meeting up with Anshar who had utilized his mastery to absorb the Force energy.

“We need to separate them,” said Mirado as he dodged a counter strike.

“That will be hard,” replied Anshar, “given that the jump around so much.”

“Listen, Frost, they can talk during battle like we can,” said Reaper.
“Yes, they think they can separate us,” replied Frost. “Imagine that. Not even mom could do that.”

“Or that Twi'lek whore they just killed,” said Reaper, casually dancing around the strike that Jason sent his way upon rejoining the fray.

Anshar zoned out the banter. They were annoying, but that was probably part of the attack strategy. Anshar parried a strike with his purple blade and brought his blue blade around in a powerful attack, but Frost jumped over the attack, bringing his blades down to bear as the two fighters switched positions. Anshar met them with his own, the combined four blades forming a glowing, deadly tic-tac-toe board. Both fighters were stuck, pushing harder and harder against each other, but both knew that as acrobatic fighters, being stuck in a shoving contest was the last thing they wanted. Frost went first, stepping back while simultaneously pulling his blades outward, forcing Anshar's apart.

Suddenly, Tenda's blaster sounded out, but Frost immediately spun and deflected the blasts away and just in time to see Levathan charging him, brandishing his light blue, almost white, blade. Almost casually, Frost dropped down, sliding his foot out as if he were stretching before an exercise routine, his legs forming a triangle. At the same time, Anshar felt a ripple in the Force from behind him that flew past him and lifted Levathan up into the air, but left him still moving at full speed. As the Knight sailed through the air, Frost struck. More out of luck than anything else, Levathan pulled his own lightsaber up and managed to deflect most of the blow. However, the tip of Frost's blade carved straight down the hilt, destroying the lightsaber as Levathan sailed over him and crashed into the floor several feet away.

“Damn, you missed, Frost,” taunted Reaper. “And even with that setup!” Seizing the moment, Anshar leapt into another attack, this time utilizing a powerful Djem So style strike coupled with the speed of Jar'Kai. The attack was not meant to kill, but rather drive Frost further back. Anshar kept up his attack, not giving a moment's reprieve to Frost. Suddenly, several more blaster shots rang out, striking Frost in his back. Before he had even a moment to recognize what had happened, Anshar lashed out again, driving each of his blades into the center of Frost's torso and then outward. There was a scream behind hm and Anshar turned to see Reaper fall to the ground, wounds in his chest from Jason and Mirado, but he was clutching his head.

“Guess they had some sort of connection,” said Jason, bending down and picking up one of Reaper's lightsabers. He then walked over to Levathan and helped him up. “Looks like we need to get you more practice.”

“At least we tried,” said Levathan. Asides from his previous shoulder injury from the Bothan, Levathan seemed to just be bruised from his crash into the floor.

“Well, this might help,” said Jason, handing Levathan the lightsaber. “Use that until you can make another one. And don't do anything that crazy the next time.” Levathan only nodded.

“Where to now?” asked Levathan.

The bang of the stun grenade was both terrible and fortuitous. Unlike other nonlethal devices, this one specifically worked by suddenly increasing air pressure (the bang) and exploding in a very bright light (the flash). For those with sight based off of light, this weapon was a double edged sword, but at least, for one of the infiltration team, the effect was diminished.

Outside in the hallway, battle droids were bringing their weapons up, and in such confined space, the effect would have been devastating. Like most other days, the Miraluka resigned himself to dying, and merely felt his hand wrap around the hilt of his lightsaber, the cold metal a comfort.

“Not like this,” were the words which broke the moment, however, as Anshar pulled the assassin backwards by the belt before summoning a massive pressure of his own through the Force. The air rippled from the effect, as the mighty wave of kinetic energy knocked the droids back into the wall, breaking them into so much junk.

On the ground, the only Sadowan amongst the Taretum busied himself, channeling the Force to restore himself and his allies to a better sense of health. They didn’t have long before another wave of droids, or worse, would be upon them, and the more, the merrier in this rapidly degrading party.

Jason shook his head clear after a short moment. “We doing this?” he asked as he risked a look outside. It wasn’t pretty. Armored men and women were jogging their direction, obviously interested in why the battle droids hadn’t checked in. “Cause, we need to be, and we need to be doing it now.”

Mirado nodded, finding working with the Krath relatively agreeable. “I’ll say hello, you serve refreshments.”

With no further ado, the Sadowan strode out into the hallway. Through the Force, the T junction was positively shining with the power the elder was channeling to bring the rest of their team back to fighting fit, while the Obelisk and the Krath cast their own unique ‘shadows’ as they set themselves up.

Using Jason’s lightsaber ignition as his cue, the Sadowan drew his hands back towards his body and let them fill with the tingle of Force energy. To those with regular vision, the effect was no less interesting. Ultramarine energy, the same shade which made up the predominance of the Assassin’s Force aura, began coalescing into a sphere in his hands. When the Priest began his stride, backed by the rest of the Tarentum, Mirado let the energy loose in a thrusting motion, aiming the barely contained telekinetic burst at the first of the armored warriors.

The sphere made impact mere seconds before the rest of his team had closed into engagement range, and the effect was nothing short of staggering. While the sphere itself made no sound, the wet smacking and cracking that was the business of Force Blast was noise enough. The warrior crumpled then and there, but plenty more remained to take their place. “Time to earn a paycheck.” Mirado muttered.

Anshar was still trying to clear the wooziness in his head from the flash bang grenade; he had weathered it better than many in the turbolift. Still, it was not a pleasant experience, even though his eyes could handle light better than most.

“Jason, we need to disable any security measures we can,” ordered Anshar. “You're the most familiar with these type of ships. What is our best bet?”

“Assuming they haven't remodel this thing, we might be able to do something. Unfortunately, most of the centralized controls are tucked away, either on the bridge and in a secondary bridge,” replied the Tarentum Aedile. “There should be a number of panels tucked away in storage areas and the like where we can interrupt the security systems.” Jason took the datapad from Anshar and pulled up the map. Tapping the screen, he put it down for everyone to see, if they could. Mirado had his own lack of eyesight, and Tenda still seemed to be feeling the effects of the flash grenade the hardest.

“These are the four most likely places,” said Jason, indicating four spots on the map. “You find anything labeled 'storage closet' and you'll probably find a wiring panel or something similar. You should see a small computer screen next to the panel. Without the codes, our only real hope is to cut the wires and disable the sensors, defense guns, and anything else they're tied into.”

“Why would they design a ship like that?” asked Levathan.

“Maintenance needs mainly,” replied Jason. “You've got to remember; these ships were designed with the thought that no one would be crazy enough to try and board it. They weren't stupid enough to think that no one would actually do it, so there are the cameras, sensors, guns, etc.”

“Well, we were,” said Levathan, grinning slightly.

“I should stress,” said Jason, “that disabling things on this level will by no means guarantee anything else being disabled on the ship.”

“Alright, then,” said Anshar, “let's target these four spots. Mirado, Jason, and Tenda, you guys take these two here.” Anshar pointed to the two spots Jason had identified on the bottom portion of the map. “Levathan and I will take the other two. If you run into anything you can't handle, retreat back here.”

“Anything we should be aware of?” asked Jason. “I mean, they handed you that datapad, but you haven't said anything about it.” Anshar did not pause in his answer, having already decided to leave out the part of possible traitors.

“There is at least one elder level person on the ship loyal to Zoraan,” said Anshar. “She's Umbaran, tends to wear a shadowcloack, and typically has an armed droid with her. She's deadly, can heavily influence others, and loves poison. Not recommended for journeyman and equites.”

“Then you already know she is nearby,” said Mirado. Anshar was not surprised that the Miralukan had sensed her.

“Yes,” replied Anshar. “I do.”

Ailon Nova Guard, encountering them on any given day was courting with death, ambushed by six them on a high security deck surrounded by numerous automated turrets was just plain stupid. That is, unless your Dark Jedi. Such was the situation Levathan found himself in, alongside Dark Jedi Master Anshar, after separating from the rest of the group.

Feeling snarky, even as he was deflecting blaster bolts and dodging the poisoned Eklot of the guard, Levathan asked, “what now Master Anshar? It seems we’re at an impasse.”

Sighing in exasperation, Anshar replied, “Impasse… Stop playing the fool, we have a schedule to keep.”

“Aye, sir!” was the Knight’s reply.

No longer dodging the Eklot, Levathan proceeded to follow Anshar’s lead and cut through them, into the flesh of the Ailon attempting to defend. While Levathan also attempted to deflect blaster bolts back to the automated turrets, Anshar was having significantly more success dealing with them. The Quaestor of Tarentum cut through Eklot, armor and flesh with ease while using short bursts of Force lightning and telekinetic powers.

When the last turret fell to pieces; its servos and circuitry burning from Anshar’s Force lighting. Levathan had to suppress a feeling of unease, almost similar to the effects of early stage Horizon infection, but simply attributed it the crimson lightsaber he was using, the fact that; when activated, it felt so alien in his hand, almost made his skin crawl. Yet the Dark Jedi Master was scanning the debris filled corridor with narrowed eyes, the young knight could feel him probing the area through the Force.

“Keep alert, I just felt a disturbance.” Anshar said quietly.

Nodding, Levathan held his alien lightsaber ready and proceeded to pick his way through the corpses and debris cautiously.

As they were nearing the corridor that led to the maintenance panels for the security systems, the knight felt a large surge in the force. Before he knew what was happening, he felt the deck fall away from him, pain exploding across his back, air rushing from his lungs and his vision blurred as he fought to breathe in again. Forcing himself to get up and breathe, he could see that Anshar had his hand outstretched towards the knight, in the Force Push motion, lightsabers ignited. However, in the air where Levathan was but a moment ago, was a crimson saber, held by a form in a grey almost hazy cloak. Had Anshar not reacted and pushed him out of the way, albeit very roughly, that saber would have gone straight through his heart.

Looking into the Tarentum Quaestor’s eyes, who was almost glaring at him, Levathan knew exactly what the silent order was. Picking himself up from the deck, the knight hurled a dagger at the figure in grey, spun and ran down the corridor, aiming for the security maintenance panels.

“This might go quicker if you stop playing with it,” Tenda said over her shoulder from her position just outside the door of the storage locker the trio had savagely fought their way to.

“I tend to agree with the Protector,” Mirado chimed in. He was leaned up against a bulkhead in the closet near where Jason was working on the security panel, arms crossed over his chest with his lightsaber hilt held in a hand.

“You know, when I want heckling from the bleachers, I’ll call for it,” the Aedile responded, still tapping away at the glowing keys. “I swear I can figure out the code; the Imps hardly ever changed them, and they only had about a dozen or two they cycled through.”

“A dozen.”

“Yeah, Mirado: a dozen.” With an exasperated sigh, the Miralukan leveraged himself off his leaning wall and pressed the tip of his lightsaber against the cool metal of the bulkhead next to the panel Jason was still tapping characters in to. Switching the weapon on, he plunged the azure blade into the electronic innards of the panel, severing wires and connections. Sparks issued forth from the miniscule hole as he withdrew the lightsaber from the bulkhead, punctuating the act.

“I only need one,” Mirado said, turning to leave.

“That was my next idea,” the Tarenti muttered under his breath, snapping his borrowed armory lightsaber off his belt and following Mirado.

Out in the corridor, Tenda was tense. She was tersely staring down the length of the hall at a maintenance droid. The set of her jaw and her grip on the blaster rifle in her hands were all the telltale signs that Mirado and Jason needed to know that the droid had her unsettled and ready to blast it.

“That droid bugging you?” Jason asked, his fingers drumming on the hilt in his organic hand as he reached out with the Force to get a sense of the machine at the other end of the corridor.

“It just came out of nowhere,” she said. “Silent like an assassin, and hasn’t moved a centimeter since I saw it. Something is very off with that thing.”

“Again, I agree,” Mirado commented. “The Force never lies.”

“Well, I guess we get to kill something else, eh?” Jason’s typical smirk graced his lips for but a moment, wiped away as the droid suddenly and inexplicably drew a pair of blasters. It leveled them at the group for a moment before intoning a single word in a grating, electronic voice.

“Die.”

Then the corridor was filled with crimson streaks of death, lancing out with pinpoint accuracy.

Levathan's thrown dagger could have been saved for a more opportune moment. The dagger never got near the figure, as a quick sweep of the crimson lightsaber sliced it in half. At that very moment, Anshar lashed out, bringing both blades to bear against the shrouded figure. Despite the often dramatic talking in the holo-vids, real combat tended to be much less formal. The only goal was victory, and talking merely delayed the fight. Besides, Anshar needed no information from Dantella Novae, only her body.

“Aggressive, aren't we, Krath?” she asked, a slight mocking tone in her voice. Slowly, Dantella evened out the battle, no longer solely on the defensive. She showed a clear mastery of Makashi, making her all the more dangerous against a single opponent. Still, Anshar was the only one in the group who could probably stand up to her.

“I'll have you know that your friends' missions are of no importance,” Dantella continued. “None of you will make it off this level of the ship. I'm just glad I pulled the Ailon Nova Guard back so that I could vanquish you myself.”

“Do you honestly think that you can influence me?” asked Anshar.

“No, I suppose not,” she replied as their sabers continued to bounce off of each other. “You're far too stubborn.” Suddenly, Dantella moved in for a quick piercing strike, one that her dueling style was quite well suited for. Anshar dodged and parried, but fell backwards when a glint of metal flashed. There was a tearing of a sleeve, the cool air of the ship rushing in. Another stab from the lightsaber scathed Anshar's right shin, burning but not cutting. Flipping backwards, Anshar opened up some room between himself and Dantella. Glancing at his arm, he could see no cut nor any blood. The witch's poison remained on its blade.

“Nicely done, Krath,” taunted Dantella. “Very few have ever dodged my blades, and none have lived.”

“There's always a first time,” said Anshar, quickly assessing his options. They really didn't have the time to have a long, drawn out battle. However, this was one opponent that he could not simply overpower. While Anshar placed her as a Dark Adept level opponent, the simple truth remained that she was of elder level. She had transcended beyond the boundaries of what the Brotherhood called Orders. Anshar's mind raced, recalling the report he had read on this woman. He had to disarm her, starting with her lightsaber. While a strong duelist, defense was

“You know,” said Dantella, “you should have joined Zoraan when he was Grand Master. Imagine where you could be now, what power would have been opened to you.”

“You mean wallowing around in the Shroud, running for my life?” asked Anshar, the sarcasm rolling off his tongue. “I'll pass. I made my choice long ago, though I suppose we should have made sure that he was dead.” He began to circle the Umbaran, both of his lightsabers still lit. Slowly, he began to twirl his blue blade in his right hand, getting faster and faster until the Force took complete control of the spin. At that moment, Anshar charged, brandishing his purple blade high while keeping the blue blade in front of him as sort of a shield. When he closed within striking distance, he threw his purple bladed saber into the air and, grabbing his blue lightsaber with both hands, he stopped the spinning and delivered a powerful upward strike. Dantella was no novice though, and she easily stopped the sweep as it came parallel with her waist. At that moment, the purple bladed saber came back down, its blade pointed straight into the ground, essentially forming a triangle of the three blades, but, more importantly, locking Dantella's red blade in place. No waiting for her to make an assessment of what to do, Anshar pivoted around and brought his foot around in a powerful kick. Facing no alternative, Dantella released her lightsaber and fell backwards. Her lightsaber lay on the ground, but a quick strike from one of Anshar's lightsabers cleaved the weapon in two, making it useless. Rolling further away, she righted herself, brandishing both of her daggers, but Anshar was on top of her quickly, his blue lightsaber cleaving the two blades off of their hilts. Dantella fell backwards, scrambling to get away, but finding herself trapped up against the bulkhead.

“So, tell me, did Zoraan proclaim that you could defeat anyone?” asked Anshar, keeping his blue lightsaber pointed at her, his purple bladed lightsaber disappearing. “You're an assassin. You should stick to what you're good at.”

“And you are a Krath who fights like an Obelisk,” said Dantella, somewhat thoughtfully. She then seemed to lighten up, turning her sunken eyes upward. “You know, we could make a deal. You are indeed powerful, and I could learn from you. You could take Zoraan's place and together we could conquer the Brotherhood. You would be the Grand Master. I could be your apprentice and, perhaps, other things.” She was pouring every bit of effort into her pleading. She even dared to inch closer to Anshar.

“Lesson number one,” said Anshar. “Seduction doesn't work on me.” With that, Anshar plunged his lightsaber into Dantella's stomach. Her eyes showed complete shock at the attack and her life began to slip away. “Now, let me try something.” Anshar kneeled down and reached out with his free hand and grasped Dantella's head, using his Krath taught skill of knowledge draining. Though he wanted to tear so much more from her mind, there was only one thing he sought. Leeching the information from her, Anshar removed his hand from her head, shut down his lightsaber, and stood up to go find Levathan and then the others.

“Wait, why doesn't it work?” asked Dantella, coughing and struggling to breath. Anshar ignored her at first, walking away.

“No!” shouted Dantella with all of her strength. “Tell me why I failed!” Anshar stopped and turned his head, though his back remained to her.

“Because, no one can replace her,” said Anshar, before leaving through the hallway.

Red-hot lancets of death issued forth from the droid’s twin blaster pistols. They came fast and furious, as quick as the machine could squeeze the trigger—which was much quicker than an average organic being was capable of. It was almost as though the weapons were fully automatic, versus of the semi-automatic variety.

Two lightsabers sprang to life in response, each blade of nearly the opposing end of the color spectrum. Jason Hunter’s crimson and Mirado’s sapphire blades both danced about, swatting the dangerous bolts of energy aside with practiced ease. Tenda, on the other hand, was forced to duck back into the protection that the doorway that the storage closet the two men had vacated earlier offered. She would duck her head out and fire pot shots at the droid when an opportunity presented itself, but each shot would sail wide as the automaton would juke to one side or the other with an alacrity born of predictive programming and hydraulic reflexes.

“We can’t stay here much longer,” Mirado said as he deflected a series of blaster rounds into the bulkheads and deck then danced around a couple, letting them sail past to impact on the wall behind him. “We will eventually tire, while the droid will not.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” Jason replied, angrily batting a bolt down the corridor in an attempt to return it to its sender. It sailed high, impacting in the ceiling harmlessly. “What is it you suggest?”

A sideways glance with a touch of a smirk was the only hint Jason needed. He gave Mirado a fractional nod before removing his appropriated blaster pistol from its holster at his waist and tossing it to Tenda, who was still in the doorway firing randomly at the droid. She barely managed to catch it, bobbling it before managing to get a handle on the muzzle as she belatedly noticed the weapon sailing at her from her peripheral vision.

“Cover us,” her Aedile said with a casual wink before the two Equites charged off down the hall with Force-powered speed. Without missing a beat, Tenda stepped out from her cover and laid down a precise and varying pattern of fire at the droid, forcing it to move out of its firing position and lose whatever target lock it may have had on the rapidly approaching Jedi. It returned fire on Tenda, who ducked and turned out of the way, constantly firing down range and keeping the pressure on.

As the droid’s programming registered the two lightsaber-wielding men coming towards it at break-neck speed, it shifted aim to fire at them. Jason and Mirado deflected the incoming bolts with the aid of the Force, redirecting what they could back at the droid, adding to the suppressing fire coming over their shoulders from Tenda. The combination was apparently too much for the droid, as its arms and photoreceptors repeatedly tracked back and forth, trying to decide who was the biggest threat. It resulted in sporadic fire from its dual blasters, which significantly reduced its effectiveness.

Moments before reaching the droid, Mirado and Jason both threw themselves into a forward somersault. Touching the deck with their free, unencumbered hands, they sprang upwards over the confused droid who tracked them with its blasters. Not being immediately fired upon, Tenda took the opportunity to concentrate her own fire on her target, and a series of rounds struck home on the droid’s metallic carapace.

Sailing over the machine, now being riddled with blaster bolts, Mirado and Jason simply allowed the blades of their lightsabers to drag through the droid’s shoulder joints. Sparks issued forth as the blaster-totting arms fell away to clatter to the deck, effectively silencing the weapons.

Touching their feet down to the deck again behind the dismembered droid, Tenda’s blasters now silent as well, Jason and Mirado raised their blades for the coup de grace. However, the Sadowan was a second quicker on the draw, and cleaved the droid’s head from its’ slender robotic neck in one smooth motion.

“Hey!” Jason exclaimed, his lightsaber still cocked by his shoulder. “I was going to do that, too.”

“Need to be faster next time,” Mirado replied, extinguishing his blade and returning it to his belt. He walked around to the front of the dismantled droid and stooped, rising a moment later hefting the head he removed a short time prior.

“Taking a trophy home with you?”

“Intel,” was all the Miralukan offered. “I think we should meet up with Anshar again.”

The collection of Dark Jedi, four of Tarentum and one of Sadow, were no longer in the best of shape. This was, in part, due to the fast pace they’ve had to maintain in getting to the command deck. The delays of the security level were significant enough to put them behind schedule. The assault from combined brotherhood forces was now fully underway, leaving the group to make their way to the command deck, as quickly as possible, while the deck and walls thudded and shuddered from the assault. Despite attempts from all to hide their discomfort and injuries, it was apparent in all but a couple, as the moved steadily down the corridor leading to the bridge doors.

Anshar and Mirado still seemed fine, if one ignored the slight strain around Anshar’s eyes and the slight creasing of the Miralukan’s forehead; however that could be said for everyone, as maintaining alertness in a hostile environment for this long would put a strain on most.

Jason, who was guiding the group; due to his former posting on the Sovereign, was in his element, having served in the TIE Corps, making imperial ships seem almost a second home, almost. Yet even the Corellian seemed to be waning.

This left Levathan and Tenda, the two Journeymen of the group. The human female was doing quite well, all things considered, her training as a solder coming in handy in saving her life countless times, even to the point of being an asset in this endeavor, despite the lack of a lightsaber.

Levathan on the other hand, was not in great shape himself; having been tossed around like a rag doll twice, resulting in high velocity impacts against solid surfaces, was not doing him any favors. Bruised, battered and singed, he was nonetheless keeping up a brave face, if one ignored the noticeable limp.

Such was the state they were in when Jason called for a sudden halt as they were nearing the bridge doors, which were not sealed, leaving a gap, about a hand wide between the doors.
“Something’s wrong, it’s always been protocol to keep the blast doors closed during combat. That,” pointing to the gap, “should be impossible unless there is a loss of power to the doors. What more, I’ve never heard of imperials using red deck plating.” Referring to the splash of fresh blood emanating from the gap.

Placing his hand on the door, Jason leaned close to the opening and peered through. Inside, the bridge was dark, the only illumination coming from the subdued colors of monitors on standby. In the center of the large, airy chamber, lit by that low light, was a figure most imposing. His shaven head gleamed in the greenish light, except where he had a shock of red hair pulled up into a tight topknot at the crown of his skull. Tall and broad, his shoulders rising and falling slowly with each breath, he gazed out the forward screens at the Shroud, a wickedly curved blade held loosely in his right hand.

Jason turned back to the four others behind him and beckoned to Anshar. His Quaestor joined him at the opposite side of the small gap in the bridge doors and peeked through. “Any idea who that is?” the Aedile asked in a hushed tone.

Anshar analyzed the man within for a few heartbeats before shaking his head. “None. But he did quite the number on the crew.” Looking back in, Jason squinted to see in the low light. Then, he made out the eviscerated bodies of the bridge crew lying at the man’s feet. Apparently, that was the source of the blood trailing out into the corridor.

“The Dark Side gathers about him as though he were a black hole,” Mirado said as he come close to where Tarentum’s leadership had collected, craning his neck around Jason’s head to get a “look” for himself. The only outward sign of the Miralukan’s nervousness was the tight grip he held on his lightsaber.

“As if he wasn’t bad enough, he has pets.” Anshar raised a finger and pointed off to a dark corner of the bridge. Just then, movement was evident as two large, Rancor-like creatures sauntered into sight. They were as big as a Rancor, but decidedly more imposing: covered in sharp, spiny protrusions their hide was; each arm ending with a massive paw with four long claws, and the mouth outlined with tusks equally as long.

The unnamed figure turned towards the creatures and reached up with a gloved hand to stroke the tusk of one. The other, nearest the door, turned its giant head towards the trio gathered around the cracked opening and let out a low growl. The group felt a low tremor run through the Force a moment before all eyes in the bridge had turned to look upon them. Jason’s heart threatened to jump clear past his throat and deposit itself on the blood slickened deck, but he was able to check himself and steel his resolve.

“Looks like we’ve been found out,” Levathan said from behind the Equites and the lone Elder. His comment was punctuated by the stereo roar of the two beasts as they initiated their charge. Four lightsabers flared into existence and the bridge doors were flung open along their tracks with a telekinetic shove, accompanied by Jason muttering “Kriff this,” and rushing out to meet the beasts head-on.

His sudden and headstrong maneuver caught both Anshar and Mirado momentarily off guard—Anshar less so, for he had seen the Corellian pull that same move several times before and had almost expected it—and the two had to quickly rush after him. Lev and Tenda, being the two Journeymen, were the last to enter and were more hesitant to join the fray.

With Force-enhanced skill, Jason ducked under a claw swipe from the lead creature and darted around its side, heading straight towards the second. That one recognized the challenge that he was presenting and unleashed a bellow. Smirking in his all-too-Corellian way, he waved it in with his lightsaber. “I’ve faced bigger and scarier than you, pal.”

Seemingly enraged, the monstrosity swung down in a hammer fisted blow intended to smash the Krath in to the polished deck plating. Darting inside the attack, Jason raked the blade of his lightsaber down the beast’s unprotected belly, continuing to do so until he had passed between the squat legs. He didn’t have to turn to know that he had emptied the creature’s abdomen: the sounds were enough. After a moment or so, the next thing he heard was it falling atop its entrails.

Turning, he looked to see how his comrades were fairing. They had made short work of their foe as well, and were now rushing towards him. Anshar was pointing with one of his blades and shouting.

“Jason, look out!”

Suddenly, the bridge was moving quite rapidly. Or rather, he was, and it was away from his friends. Consoles flashed by faster than he could register, then he came to a bone-jarring halt hovering a meter off the deck. His neck was stiff and sore, and his head swam from whiplash.

“I should kill you right now, but I think playing with you and your friends…that sounds like so much more fun.”

“What the kriff…” It took a moment for Jason to focus his eyes on the speaker. And when they did, he knew he was in trouble. He was a couple meters from that imposing man who had been standing amongst all that carnage in the middle of the bridge, who had caressed the tusk of the beast, and who Mirado had likened to a Dark Side black hole. As it was, he was holding Jason in the powerful grip of the Force, and was more than likely responsible for his rapid transit across the deck.

“After all, you did kill my pets. My poor Terentateks,” the Black hole continued.

“So that’s what they’re called,” Jason said groggily, his head still clearing. “I was thinking Fluffy and Muffin.”

A wave of rage so hot, it felt as though a wave of molten metal cascaded over his body. “Insolent little Krath!” the man raged, turning to face Jason fully and sticking an extended index finger in his face. “I will teach you to talk back to Lord Necar, Apprentice to the great Darth Zoraan!”

With that, Jason was summarily hurled across the breadth of the bridge. He impacted upon an abandoned console with his shoulder, slumping to the deck in a heap.

“Ow.”

Levathan stood transfixed, staring at the Tarentatek Anshar and Mirado had taken down. The two Dark Jedi had used bait and switch tactics to efficiently kill the beast, leaving it with lightsaber burn grooves and burned out hollows of missing flesh, yet the beast was still a wonder to behold. With the spines on its back, the venomous tusks and claws, this creature could only be a weapon. The young knight, feeling his Krath training and instincts come into play, could almost sit, stare and study the beast… almost. Lifting his gaze, Levathan could only see a scene out of a nightmare; Darth Necar had Jason in a Force grip, hovering in midair in front of him. Anshar a Mirado were charging at them with forced enhanced speed, sabers ignited; seeming to elongate and leave streaks of light in their wake. While Tenda had been trying to get Levathan’s attention; shouting and gesturing in order to shake him out of his daze.

The Knight tasted the blood and crick in his neck before he realized that Tenda had slammed her fist into his face. It just so happened that because his head was now turned away from the punch, he saw his Aedile sail past him and slam, shoulder first, into a console directly in front of him, breaking the screens and causing a shower of sparks, as he struggled to rise uttering a faint,

“Ow.”

Straightening and glaring back at a now apprehensive Tenda, Levathan spat out the blood in his mouth onto the deck, “Thanks for that, I needed it, now go help our Aedile.”

All she replied with was a, “Sir!” then ran to attend to Jason.

Anshar and Mirado had already engaged Darth Necar, Lightsabers sparking as it came in contact with Necar’s Sith Sword. The crazed apprentice was holding his own against both combatants, more often parrying and blocking as instead of putting in the effort to dodge. Despite being faced with two opponents, Necar clearly held the upper hand as he was skilled enough to counter attack very precisely with his sword, forcing the two on to the defensive. He seemed toy with them, being able to move faster and strike harder than either Anshar’s twin blades or Mirado’s Obelisk training could completely cope with. This could not last; they could not open up some distance, as Necar would use that moment to strike them down and they could not press him as they would also be cut down, yet the Sith Lord toyed with them, wanting to bathe in the pair’s hopeless struggle. It would not last forever and all of them knew it.

This was when Levathan charged in; he had maneuvered around directly behind Necar and decided to gamble everything into one, force enhanced attack, hoping that Zorran’s apprentice was too occupied. Using Burst of Speed combined with Jump, every ounce of his leg strength and his lightsaber like a spear, he launched himself at Necar’s broad back. Just as he closed to within striking range, crimson blade almost making contact with the Sith Lord’s robes, he tasted victory. Necar spun in less than the blink of an eye,

“Fool” the Sith Lord whispered and slammed the foolish knight with a telekinetic burst as he stabbed his blade forward.

Intercepting the sword too late, was a ultramarine energy blade, which managed to push the blade aside enough to miss the vital points, instead grazing off Levathan’s lower abdomen, as he was hurled into a solid bulkhead and crumpled to the deck. His limbs felt cold and heavy as saw his lightsaber had fallen in his vision, crimson vapor rising from the cooling emitter head, he couldn’t move, and could only watch what was unfolding in front of him as he focused what energy he could into Healing.

Anshar had launched himself back after seeing Mirado intercept the deadly sword aimed for Levathan, silently thanking the reckless fool and vowing to retrain him to be more prudent, if they got out of this alive. However if they had any chance of doing so, he had to trust in the Miralan obelisk. Quickly calming and ordering his mind, he began to go into the trance state, shutting out all distractions and becoming one with the Force.

Mirado knew that the instant the Sith Lord turned his full attention towards him, he was not going to experience anything pleasant, he had felt the Tarentum Quaestor retreat back and enter a trance state, likely to prepare for something, and he was going to have to trust that Anshar had something up his sleeve. The Obelisk Prelate entered his own form of trance, concentrating his keenly honed senses and focusing his mind to a razor’s edge, he called upon the Dark Side of the Force and activated Dark Mettle.

Suddenly all was clear, Mirado had absolute mastery of his body, there was no lag between body and mind, and it was almost as if the Sith Lord before him, the black hole in the Force, was now clear. He instinctively knew Necar’s entire Sword forms, how to counter them and attack at the same time, he was now the epitome of Obelisk skill.


Jason had been watching the entire exchange, from Levathan’s insane charge, to Anshar’s preparations, right up to Mirado’s display of unbelievable lightsaber skill. The force of the impact had dislocated the Corellian’s shoulder, which was popped back in with help from Tenda. However the damage was more extensive, as he had been coughing up blood with almost every breath and had been concentrating on Healing himself as much as possible, but he knew his respite was done. Jason recognized the unnatural increase in skill from Mirado and knew that Dark Mettle was an all or nothing ability.

“Tenda, this’ll be our last try,” cough, turning to the side to spit out the blood before continuing, “if we fail, get yourself out, you can’t take that monster, make sure the Brotherhood knows what happened, that’s an order solder.”

Without another word, the Aedile of Tarentum picked himself up and began to move towards the dancing forms of the Mirado and Necar. Slowly gaining speed, from a hobble into a walk and into a jog, he was half way when something changed, suddenly Mirado forms became sloppy barely blocking some attacks and barely dodging others, he was no longer attacking but was fully on the defensive. Then crazed, deep booming, laughter rebounded within the bulkheads bridge.

“So the little Obelisk is now blind,” Necar said scornfully as he delivered a powerful, but purely physical kick to the side of the Miraluka.

Mirado doubled over, gripping his side, now having trouble breathing.

“Shame, you thought to defeat me? The great Master Zoraan’s apprentice?” Necar shouted, before breaking out into laughter again, tears now falling from his eyes.

Suddenly the laughter stopped, and he gazed down his nose at Mirado and said imperiously, “You’re finished.” Mirado suddenly disappeared.

In that moment, two things happened, Anshar’s preparations were complete and thus he launched his attack, focusing every ounce of Force he could muster into the attack; Sever Force, onto his target, Necar.
While Jason sensing what Necar was doing to the Miraluka, stopped and reached out with the Force to mitigate the Translocation, succeeding to some degree, as Anshar’s attack had hit, before the full force of Translocation could be activated. Nonetheless, Mirado slammed into the bulkhead in the hallway outside of the bridge with a sickening crunch, splattering blood and denting the metal slightly in an almost comical, humanoid shape.

Levathan was sure Mirado was dead; none could survive that kind of attack, and that gut wrenching crunch. However the effect on the Sith Lord was bizarre; he had just stopped moving. It was apparent that Necar was not breathing, he stood, arms limp, mouth agape, staring at the ceiling of the bridge. Anshar was now glaring at the comatose like Necar with a single minded purpose, while Jason was now running towards the Sith Lord, crimson armory blade, ignited.

Suddenly there was a piercing scream, enough to make Levathan wince at the shrillness of it. Necar had grabbed his head with both hands and was uttering a wordless shreek. Even so, as Jason drew closer. Necar still grabbing once side of his head grabbed his lightsaber and finally ignited a crimson blade.

“You!” he shouted at Anshar, advancing on him lightsaber burning.

Anshar was unmoving, still focusing everything upon the rapidly advancing Sith Lord.

Necar reached the Dark Jedi Master, and thrust.

The crimson blade plunged into Anshar right shoulder, while Necar had a another crimson blade running through his neck.

Looking at the Sith Lord, Anshar whispered, “Zoraan is dead.” As the last glimmer of life disappeared from the Sith Lord’s eyes, crimson blade vanishing with it.

Jason withdrew and deactivated his lightsaber, allowing the body of Darth Necar to fall to the deck, as he caught his friend and Quaestor, who slumped slightly from weariness and the wound.

“Nice timing,” Anshar remarked.

“Nice last words didn’t think you were the type to rub it in,” Jason grinned, a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Shaking his head, Anshar ordered, “See to that reckless fool,” pointing to Levathan, “I’ll see what I can do for Mirado, tough bastard is still alive at least. Tenda! Report our status and request medics or healers.”