Star Wars: Cataclysm

"Destinus; you need'nt do this! I swear my fealty to you, as our Lord! Please, show mercy!" The human hit his knees, hands coiled together in plea. He was trembling, beneath his dark robes, a lance of blood coiled down his ribs. His lightsaber lay broken not two yards away. The room about them had been utterly destroyed. The star-charts on the walls were shattered, as the consoles themselves were sliced open from errant light saber slashes. Destinus could not remember the name of the planet, so far out into Wild Space. He was not of the Wilds, he was from a more civilized space. One he would return too.

Still, he had matters at hand to attend to. The figure before him quivered in absolute fear. Destinus could feel as such through the Force. It tickled his senses. There was great loss in the room, as a dozen of this pitiful figure's closest guard lay dead before him. Destinus had entered the room alone, in the attempt at keeping the fight close to fair, or honorable. He had been mistaken. They fell before him, as so many had before. "If you had any sense, Lygar, you would have surrendered while I remained in orbit. I would have given you a place in my new Order. You brought this upon yourself. At least die with dignity." Destinus sneered, before igniting the blade in his hand. Lygar's pleas fell on deaf ears, as his life was extinguished at the end of the crimson blade. Destinus stood, roaring his defiance to the heavens above. The last of the outliers had fallen to him. There stood no Sith faction, anywhere, that did not fly his banner. The first half of his divine crusade, as given to him by the spirits of Korriban, had been fulfilled. The Galaxy had not seen a unified Sith army in quite some time. They were ill-prepared.

Destinus turned, and left the desolate throne room behind. His shuttle waited just beyond, which he piloted back into orbit. There, a fleet of magnificent proportions stood beyond the moon. Hundreds of warships, maybe even another thousand of personal craft stood waiting for his command. They had been recruited, forcefully or otherwise into his employ. Now they stood ready to die for his word, or by his saber. He had promised them eternal glory, and dominion. And quite finally, a Galaxy with no Jedi.

His craft docked with his flagship, the Exodus. A converted Battle-Cruiser, the ship stood over a kilometer long, with forty decks from bottom to top. It housed it's own fighter compliment of close to 100 escorts, plus four shuttles. He had manned it with his most trust-worthy, well, mercenaries. If they couldn't swing a saber, they could fire a blaster. Such was the way of things. He made it to the bridge, scanning the charts and chatter himself. The crew fell quiet around him. He was feared. It made him smile.

"Send a message out to the fleet." The silence that followed was pregnant with choice, with destiny. "We move into Jedi controlled space. We are taking the war, not to distant battlefields, but amongst them. Their young will learn of this violence. Their old will sicken of it. They will live a life in fear, of when we strike. I will lead you into battle. And you will follow. Together, this Galaxy will be ours." His finger touched the button to end the communication. His eyes lazily read the charts once more, although his selection had been picked long ago. The Bakur mining company had their eyes set on a world at the edge of Wild Space for some time, a name they had thrown around was "Bakura." The Jedi sent their furthest out-reach there, in an effort to spearhead the attempt to chart Wild Space. The Republic had been planing these expeditions for decades, but it may finally be going somewhere. Destinus would see to it, that this Jedi outpost would not live another day. There would be no expedition into Wildspace, he imagined. The Republic would be far too busy..

Thus, the fleet jumped into hyperspace. And the great Cataclysm, had just begun.

Hanging from a scaffolding 200 meters above the hard packed soil of a mountain valley on Bakura, Thallan considered his choices to date. It seemed like the time for it, as his grip was slipping, his overworked muscles were sore and aching, and he didn't know if he had enough energy to call on the Force to save his life.

Just out of the Academy, he was approached by a Jedi Master named B'Kal, a Twilek he'd never met before. Master B'kal had seemed...different from the other Masters of the order that Thallan had met. He was more relaxed, less formal, a little edgier.

Overall he seemed somewhat shady, to be honest. But Thallan liked him none-the-less and the other Masters seemed to trust him without reservation. So when he said that Thallan had a unique personality profile that made him suitable for a special kind of work for the Order, Thallan listened. He agreed to undergo testing and then a special kind of training. Little did he know that he would become a Jedi Shadow.

The Jedi Shadow is the perfect covert operative, capable of infiltrating a criminal organization and taking it down from within, or of eliminating a single target in a fortified location. The Order has no knowledge of the Shadows. Once they are recruited to the elite force, their records are expunged from the archives, their identities erased, their death or disappearance faked.

Thallan Kadien had been a Jedi Shadow for 15 years. He'd personally faced off against rogue force users, alien monsters, mercenary companies, serial killers, galactic assassins and pirates. This latest mission was about taking down a mad Alderanian warlord who was trying to set himself up as a crime boss here in Wild Space. Thallan had been assigned to accompany the Republic diplomatic envoy, along with other Jedi, ostensibly to provide security. But his real assignment was to break into the mountain fortress and capture or eliminate Lord Vaas.

To say that things had not gone well, would be a slight understatement. The guards were some kind of alien that Thallan had never encountered before. They seemed to see in the infrared spectrum and this largely countered Thallan's stealth options. Head on assault had only caused alarms and a reinforcement of the guards. The entire operation had been lacking in reliable intelligence and was poorly planned. So now, Thallan had been fighting a climbing battle up the side of the newly built fortress that was still under construction. Which also happened to face the edge of a sheer cliff. For the last few minutes, Thallan had been hanging onto the scaffolding, just barely under cover and avoiding blaster bolts being shot at him from below and above. No backup was coming. No one knew he was here.

The one standing order for this assignment had been to never reveal his identity as a Jedi. So far, Thallan had managed to only use the Force to enhance his physical ability, never anything overt and he had yet to use his Lightsaber. But given the circumstances, he faced a difficult choice. If he broke mission protocols, he would be investigated, perhaps suspected of having gone dark. But if he didn't do something, he was going to fail to accomplish his mission and that...

Was something he could not abide.

Taking a deep breath, Thallan discharged his grapple from it's wrist launcher. The line reeled out as the hook embedded itself in the solid permacrete of the fortress. Thallan let go and dropped to the end of the grapple line, swinging even as he released his Lightsaber from its belt clip and activated the orange blade.

Swinging in wide arcs, he slashed the durasteel supports of the scaffolding, watching as it plummeted in a heaping pile, landing squarely on the guards below who were firing on his position. Taking a running leap off the side of the fortress wall, Thallan used the Force to jump, releasing his grapple line even as he landed, meters above. He fired the grapple again, and once more used it to leap up the wall, buying himself precious seconds to use his saber to deflect blaster shots back at the guards. He managed to angle the bolts to hit two guards, who fell past him, screaming. One more good Force assisted jump and he was among them, inside the fortress, swinging his saber and cutting bodies right and left.

When the last guard fell in twain, Thallan paused to rest for a few minutes, breathing heavily, sweating profusely. He glanced out the open side of the fortress, seeing lots of bodies in the wreckage below, smoke and dust rising in a concealing cloud. Maybe he'd get lucky and there were no living witnesses.

Thallan raised the face mask of his helm, wiping his brow. There were days when his job could be somewhat stressful.

He flipped down his visor and proceeded into the fortress to ferret out his target.

Bakura was a nice enough world, mostly uninhabited except for a small, quickly expanding outpost that would someday serve as a relay post for future exploration into the unknown regions of the galaxy. Oh, and there was also a giant fortress being built by some jackass Alderaanian “nobleman” who was trying to expand his powerbase. It was a nice enough mountain fortress, even though it was still under construction, complete with solid duracrete walls, a couple of anti-air turrets, and a whole lot of well-trained and disciplined guards, as one unfortunate soul was finding out.

Jodo watched from the tinted cockpit of his small, non-descript freighter as guards on top of one of the perimeter walls seemed to be rather intent on blasting whatever was on the other side, probably a raiding party of some type, judging by the occasional blaster bolts that could be seen heading skyward. Although something seemed a bit off…there were far too few bolts heading skyward for the group on the other side to be trying to shoot the guards on the wall. Maybe there was another group of guards on the ground working with the guards on the wall trying to shoot something in between, with the bolts going skyward being the misses?

Jodo couldn’t be sure of what was going on, considering he sat within the perimeter walls on a small landing area that allowed the fortress to get supplies without going through the Republic outpost about a hundred clicks away. What Jodo was sure of was that someone had tried forcing their way in the front doors and failed, setting the compound on alert, and they were now trying, and failing again, to scale the walls to get in.

Just then the blaster fire from the ground seemed to stop, and with macro-binoculars in hand, Jodo could see the guards on the wall adjust their aim as they seemed to track a quickly moving target. Two of the guards fell over the wall, shortly replaced by their target, a man in a cloak waving an orange glowing sword around with considerable skill as he cut down the remaining guards on the wall. A plume of dust and smoke rose from beyond the wall behind the man.

A Jedi. How perfect, thought Jodo, a smile on his face, as the intruder raised the face plate of a mask he wore and wiped his brow before proceeding into the depths of the fortress, most likely to hunt down Lord Vaas, the man in charge.

Turning from the view port, Jodo checked his datapad to make sure the packages he had delivered with his cargo were being delivered properly. Using the guise of a Zabrak smuggler, Jodo had brought in a load of supplies for Lord Vaas’ fortress, along with some other goods that the greedy would-be crime lord hadn’t ordered. Satisfied that the packages were going where they were supposed to, Jodo powered up his ship and took off, getting permission from a security dispatch that was more concerned about someone trying to get in than someone leaving.

With the ship’s autopilot taking Jodo up to orbit around Bakura and eventually an outbound course back to civilized space, Jodo turned to the comm board in the cockpit and activated his anti-trace program, which would prevent the call he was about to make from being tracked by randomly changing the origin point every few seconds.

Soon, an angry looking hologram of Lord Vaas appeared before Jodo, motioning as if he had been interrupted while talking to someone else.

“I don’t care what it takes, just find the intruder and kill him!” shouted Lord Vaas to someone out of view.

“Is this a bad time, Lord Vaas?” asked Jodo..

“Wait, who the hell are you and how’d you get this comm code?” said Vaas, turning his attention to the hologram of a grinning Zabrak floating above his desk.

“Come now, it really wasn’t that hard to get it, Vaas, all things considered. As for the who, well…there’s really only three powers that control the trade in this galaxy: the Republic, the Hutts, and me. I’m obviously not a Hutt, and I’m not with the Republic, so that really only leaves one option, doesn’t it?”

Jodo’s grin widened as a look of recognition and apprehension spread across Vaas’ face.

“Ah, good, looks like you got the right answer, and it seems my reputation precedes me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you; how can I? I’m half-way across the galaxy from you. I just want to talk.”

Vaas seemed to relax a bit as he accepted Jodo’s explanation, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of fear that was starting to build up. Any criminal in the galaxy knew the name of Jodo Galak, and the various rumors and legends about him, and Vaas was no exception. Pieces were starting to add up in Vaas’ head; it was just too much of a coincidence that Jodo would contact him at the same time that his guards were chasing down an intruder, especially given the stories about Jodo.

“Okay, I’m listening…”

“That’s a good boy, Vaas,” began Jodo. “I just wanted to call and let you know that I’ve heard about your recent expansion to Bakura and that you’ve been building a fortress there. Since you’re the first crime lord to move into that sector of space, I wanted to congratulate you and tell you that was a good idea you had, moving there before anyone else could claim it. The fortress, though, is a bit overkill, considering there’s no one out there and the planet is pretty much uninhabited. A shame you won’t be able to keep it, I hear it’s a nice fortress too.”

“What?” asked Vaas, his fear starting to grow even more.

“There is some truth behind all those rumors and legends about me, Vaas. Your ambition has gotten my attention, Vaas, and as the legends say, getting my attention is often bad for your health.”

“NO!! Please, please!” cried out Vaas, as he began begging, his fear spiking into full-on panic. “I’ll give you anything! I’ll give you this fortress, my contacts, anything! Just spare me please!”

“It’s too late, Vaas. My agent is already in your fortress; you don’t have much longer. Besides, I’ve already taken everything you have: your money, your influence, your power. You have nothing left to give. Anyways, if my agent fails to kill you, I’m sure your fortress coming down around you will. Have fun!”

With that, Jodo’s image was replaced by a thirty second count-down floating above Vaas’ desk. Once that timer hit zero, the packages Jodo delivered, a crate full of suicide droids each packed with enough explosives to cripple a cruiser, will detonate after having placed themselves at key structural points all over the fortress. Nothing will be left of the place except rubble and craters.

All throughout Jodo’s call with Vaas, his grin stayed on his face, and it stayed there even as his ship jumped into hyperspace, bound for the core, just as the clock hit zero.

Destinus' armada blasted out of Hyperspace, hundreds of warships floating in a tight formation. Expecting no resistance, and receiving none, the fleet swiftly moved into an offensive posture in orbit of Bakura. Destinus stayed in his meditation chamber, trying his hardest to get a grasp on the slippery influence of the Force. It haunted him so. The voices of his dead masters on Korriban returned to him, derision in their voice.

He had been chastised, mocked and beaten for his inability to feel the Force the way they did. In the heat of battle, he could feel it flowing through him, enhancing his speed and power in ways unimaginable to the uninitiated. He could feel it, grab it, use it to his will. The Force was not an object to be tamed; he reasoned. It was a living being, to be mastered. He would often feel the very fabric of the Force bending and tearing as he abused it in battle, tearing duracrete walls down, bending steel. He was a walking juggernaut, with his lightsabers extended, he was nigh invincible. But here, in the quiet confines of his meditation chamber, he had the distinct feeling that he was sitting alone. The Force whispered to him, knowing he was surrounded by hundreds of Sith warriors with varying levels of Force sensitivity. He could sense that the Jedi were close, the outpost on Bakura being the obvious culprit He could not, however, get an accurate bearing on their number, or how powerful they were. It filled him with Fear.

That fear seeped deep into his bones. Into his heart. It stayed there, growing, multiplying. It was strong enough to pull him out of his meditation. It propelled him to walk through his entire battle-cruiser, and to the bridge. It brought him right up next to the view-screens, and into the heat of the moment. "M'Lord. There's a Republic frigate in orbit over Bakura. They seem to have found us. Orders?" Destinus gave a curt nod. "Don't let it reach hyperspace. Destroy it."

Red bolts of energy fired from over two hundred warships, as the frigate turned to run. The bolts moved impossibly slow, and Destinus could feel the information that the frigate was sending to the Republic at large. His invisibility had just ended. He could only hope that his numbers were exaggerated by the frigate. He could use such a reputation. The bolts finally collided with the ship, overloading shields and blasting clean through the hull. It was speared through it's engineering decks, and straight through the power-core. The entire ship broke apart, with no cataclysmic explosion, just a derelict hull floating between Bakura and it's moon.

"Lord Destinus, would you like us to bombard the facility from here? The Jedi certainly could not resist and orbital destruction." Destinus shook his head, negative. "Destroy the Republic facilities on the far side of Bakura. This world will see no more of their influence. Leave the Jedi to me."

He headed towards his shuttle, and piloted himself away from the Exodus. He watched as his warships started to rain their bombardment onto Bakura's farside, as countless shuttles headed downwards to eradicate any Republic Commandos on that side of the world. Half of his fleet stayed in station above the planet, ready for any reinforcement that may rear their head.

He descended past a bombed out facility not very far from the Jedi outpost, which was still a smoldering ruin. Had there been violence here recently? He hadn't concerned himself with the petty dealings of warlords and criminals in this side of space. They were beneath him, he figured. Still, such complications might hamper his future endeavors. He would need to be more attentive to the vermin beneath his boots, before they grew stingers and struck him.

His shuttle reached a clearing, and was met by two Jedi running from the single-story manor they were using as an outpost. These two were young, no older than fifteen standard years. Maybe they were expecting somebody to come help them, or had felt his presence in the Force and figured they were getting assistance they hadn't planned on. Destinus remarked at the clear lack of a Master or Knight amongst them. There had to be one in the compound. He had to of felt Destinus' presence. And ran.

The shuttle ramp lowered, and Destinus pulled his hood up. His saber had been disconnected into two different blades, both kept on either side of his armor. One of the Jedi ran to him, his cloak billowing in the wind, light saber at his side, clipped on. Even from here, Destinus could feel the world shrieking in bombardment. And his Fear, that had accompanied him down to the surface, had melted into hatred. Sheer, utter, hatred.

Instead of feeling the Force, and using it to aid him, he ripped it from it's natural confines. From the very rocks of the world, he used it to grip the Jedi who was mid-tilt, and flung him into, and through the towering trees that surrounded the landing site. The wet pulpy sounds of flesh barreling through trunk and stone lasted for seconds as the Jedi was propelled dozens of meters beyond the landing strip. Destinus turned towards the other Jedi, who seemed to be a little older. His green lightsaber wavered in his hands. "Wh.. Who are you?" the boy asked. Destinus used the Force to bring his lightsaber into his hand. It's crimson red blade extending ever so slowly, to illuminate Destinus' smile. "Destiny."

Within the blink of an eye, he crossed the threshold between the two, his blade slicing the boy clean in half before he even had a chance to move. Destinus kept his blade ignited, letting it's tip trail in the dirt, leaving a smoldering trail behind him. His free hand force-pushed the gates open, and then the doors. He paused, trying to feel the presence of the Jedi within. Nothing called back to him. It seemed that the Force would punish him for his abuse. Destinus looked around, and only noticed three speeder-bikes out front. Meaning that there was only one other Jedi abound. And he would be of a higher ranking. Maybe a valid challenge, a chance for Destinus to finally flex his muscles a little.

He walked into the basement of the manor, and found the uplink towards the Jedi archives. He remotely linked the Exodus into the Archives, and started a massive upload. It would take months for the entire thing to be uploaded, and centuries for it all to be read. Maybe his successors would benefit from the knowledge. Unless the Jedi caught onto him first. They had been careless and arrogant in the power, leaving such a resource so lightly defended. Still, who would expect an assault on a Jedi stronghold? Such things just did not happen anymore.

A careening screech drew his attention back outside. A personal fighter craft was attempting to lift off, and break into space. Destinus knew that it was the missing Jedi. He sprinted back up the stairs, and out of the manor, in time to see the fighter wobbling in the sky, not two hundred feet up yet. Destinus reached out with the Force, with all of his might, tearing the very fabric of the design of the universe to aid him. He gripped the ship in the tightest grasp, feeling the Jedi attempting to resist him, and slammed it down to the ground. He had tried to seal the Jedi in his tomb, but the pilot focused all of his energy into the top of the cockpit, and managed to break the grasp and escape before the ship was destroyed. He landed amongst the wreckage, a blue lightsaber extending through the smoke.

"I know what you are, Sith. You're foolish to think that the Republic won't retaliate." Destinus' laughter roared through the trees. "You know nothing, Jedi. When I burn your temple to the ground, your core worlds left as smoldering ruins of a failed Republic, all will fear the name. Destinus." The Jedi's eyes pierced through the smoke, and seemed to be recording Destinus' appearance and voice. He felt a little tremble through the Force, as though somebody was trying to send a message that way. He had never considered such things. It was weak. He held his saber up, in a ceremonial salute "Your time has come to die, Jedi. At least die with honor."

The Jedi made the first move, an over-handed power swing. Destinus' blade deftly lifted up, and let the assault slide right down the blade and over his right shoulder. Destinus used his shoulder to check the man in his ribs, thrusting him back, before back-handedly slashing across the man's chest, who barely blocked the blow in time. Destinus took another step forward, his saber dancing delicately, probing the Jedi's defenses, his reflexes, getting a feel for him. The Knight wasn't bad at all, had a promising career ahead of him in galactic law enforcement with saber handling of that level. But Destinus was leagues ahead. He was the very instrument of hatred. His actions seemed to blur, as his speed ratched up to a level only very few had ever witnessed, let alone matched. The Knight put up a valiant defense, but he ultimately knew it was in vain. His head rolled away from his body, as his saber quietly died. Destinus took the man's saber, and stashed it in his cloak. He regarded the corpse at his feet. It had been an honorable death. He could learn to respect that.

His comm-link buzzed. "M'Lord, the republic facilities are destroyed. We encountered light resistance from a contingent of Republic engineers, but they have been exterminated. Bakura is yours." Destinus nodded, satisfied. He headed back towards his shuttle. "Bombard the Jedi outpost from orbit. We will leave this planet behind, in search of another. The day is ours." His shuttle ascended back to the Heavens above. Back to the Exodus. Back to his fleet.

Dann

He sat in a relaxed Lotus position, both hands in his lap, palms upwards. The Force flowed through him, he was trying to see through the Force, trying to achieve a view of the room around him. The Force was present in everything, yet all he managed to do was see the Force inside other beings as they moved about the the Academy. He could even detect the skill level of the beings through the amount of Force which flowed through them.

With a sigh Dann opened his eyes, a tingle started in the back of his mind and then a vision clouded his natural vision. It was a face...Sith? The red lightsaber brought that idea to a conclusion, as did the fear which suddenly entered Dann's being. It was strange to feel this fear, it only meant that...knife sliced through Dann. His eyes flew open and he gasped a breath, he was still connected to the Jedi who had sent the message and the sudden darkness which followed the pain meant only one thing. Death. Dann got to his feet, he could sense that more of the Jedi have received the message. He hurried out of his chamber.

Thallan moved in silence and stillness through the darkened halls of the incomplete fortress. He evaded patrolling guards where he could, and when he couldn’t, he killed them as quietly and efficiently as possible. His silenced blaster pistol helped in this, as did the ability to sneak up behind a target and detach his head with a monofilament garrote. The heads sometimes came in handy to get past security doors that were locked with retinal scanners, grisly though the act might be.

This did allow Thallan to make it into the upper level security room undetected. He sliced into the computer and accessed the security vid footage. Quickly finding the signal of an incoming holo-message, Thallan traced it to a safe room on the very top level of the fortress. He hacked the signal.

“I don’t care what it takes, just find the intruder and kill him!” shouted Lord Vaas to someone out of view.

“Is this a bad time, Lord Vaas?”

“Wait, who the hell are you and how’d you get this comm code?” said Vaas, turning his attention to the hologram of a grinning Zabrak floating above his desk.

“Come now, it really wasn’t that hard to get it, Vaas, all things considered. As for the who, well…there’s really only three powers that control the trade in this galaxy: the Republic, the Hutts, and me. I’m obviously not a Hutt, and I’m not with the Republic, so that really only leaves one option, doesn’t it?”

A look of recognition and apprehension spread across Vaas’ face.

“Ah, good, looks like you got the right answer, and it seems my reputation precedes me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you; how can I? I’m half-way across the galaxy from you. I just want to talk.”

“Okay, I’m listening…”

“That’s a good boy, Vaas,”

“I just wanted to call and let you know that I’ve heard about your recent expansion to Bakura and that you’ve been building a fortress there. Since you’re the first crime lord to move into that sector of space, I wanted to congratulate you and tell you that was a good idea you had, moving there before anyone else could claim it. The fortress, though, is a bit overkill, considering there’s no one out there and the planet is pretty much uninhabited. A shame you won’t be able to keep it, I hear it’s a nice fortress too.”

“What?” asked Vaas, his fear starting to grow even more.

“There is some truth behind all those rumors and legends about me, Vaas. Your ambition has gotten my attention, Vaas, and as the legends say, getting my attention is often bad for your health.”

“NO!! Please, please!” cried out Vaas, as he began begging, his fear spiking into full-on panic. “I’ll give you anything! I’ll give you this fortress, my contacts, anything! Just spare me please!”

“It’s too late, Vaas. My agent is already in your fortress; you don’t have much longer. Besides, I’ve already taken everything you have: your money, your influence, your power. You have nothing left to give. Anyways, if my agent fails to kill you, I’m sure your fortress coming down around you will. Have fun!”
With that, the man’s image was replaced by a thirty second count-down floating above Vaas’ desk.

Thallan stared, open mouthed at the image of the countdown clock. Vaas did as well for a long moment, before ending the transmission on his end. Thallan quickly tried to find a camera that looked in on the safe room, but there was none. He felt a rising sense of panic and had to swallow and take some deep, slow breaths. Closing his eyes, Thallan remembered the timer. It would be on 9 seconds at this point.

Time was out for subtlety.

Thallan raced from the security room, not even trying to hide, his lightaber aglow, his form a blur as he used the force to increase his speed by an exponential amount. He was moving so fast the human eye could barely catch sight of him now. Anything that got in his way was either struck down, or pushed aside with a wave of force energy. His path led to the main lift. Reaching out his right hand,

Thallan made a pulling motion and the durasteel doors of the elevator were wrenched open, curling outward like butterfly wings. Slowing his pace a bit, Thallan gave the car a tug, pulling it down enough for him to jump on top of it and use his lightsaber to slice through the cables. The car fell to crash far down below and Thalan rode the rising cable to the top of the shaft.

Hurling a blast of compressed air in front of himself, Thallan blew open the doors at the top and rolled out and to his feet, just in time to intercept a wave of blaster fire with his saber. The clock in his head counted down to 6...

The guards gave up on blasters right away, after three went down from their own bolts. They instead charged Thallan with what looked like electrostaffs. One came from the right, another from the left and the third from right up the middle. Thallan parried the staff of the guard in front of him, leading the sparking end right into the path of the staff of the left side guard. Then he ducked and slashed the feet of the right-hand-guard, taking them off at the ankles.

He fell screaming, clutching at his blackened, cauterized stumps, even as Thallan used his wrist grapple to shoot a heavily reinforced hook/bolt into the chest of the left side guard. The tritaneum bolt punctured the creatures lung and released it’s barbed hooks, designed to get a good grip in solid materials. Thallan spun away, blocking the staff of the remaining guard as he went, giving the grapple line a good yank, ripping the grapple hook forth in a burst of greenish blood and organ tissue.

The last guard was hit in the side of the face by the gore from his now dying companion, and it so horrified him that he stood still as Thallan ran him through with the blade of his lightsaber.

4..

Up the corridor, to the solid blaster-proof door. The lightsaber humming its song as it started cutting a circle in the door. Thallan pulled back and using the force as an augmentation, double front kicked the door, sending the plug of solid reinforced durasteel across the room. Then Thallan flattened himself against the door to the side of his hole, as a hail of blaster bolts shot out at him. He gave his lightsaber a spin through the hole, using the force and his senses to guide the blade in a wide arc, even as he tucked and rolled through the opening, slipping to the side and grabbing the blade as it spun past.

2 seconds…

Thallan looked up, saw Vaas crouched behind a huge, heavy desk, behind him a large panoramic transparasteel window. He called on all the powers of the force that he could summon at one time and unleashed them in a blast of kinetic energy, which lifted Vaas and his desk up into the air and hurled them as hard as a bullet from a slug thrower, at and out the window, with a crash like crystal thunder.

…0.

Thallan hurled himself out the shattered window frame, just as the base of the fortress shattered in spectacular fashion, much like a tree will explode in wintertime when the moisture inside freezes and expands. Great jagged cracks ran up the side of the duracrete shell of the fortress, lurid orange flames bursting out in sheets and mushroom clouds. Thallan felt warm winds whipping past him as he fell.

Seeing Vaas, flailing and kicking futilely as a babe in a dirty diaper, Thallan adjusted his body formation, stretching himself into a more missile like shape and zeroing in on the crime lord. Reaching out, he captured the man and touched a fingertip to his forehead, putting him instantly to sleep.

Gathering his lanky form to himself, Thallan landed on the huge desk, which was falling at a mostly steady pace, flat surface up, heavy bottom side down to the ground. Thallan rested there for a while. As they got closer to the ground, Thallan started using the force to slow and cushion their descent. Gradually, heavier pieces of debris fell past them and the desk fell out from beneath Thallans feet, as he and Vaas slowed…slowed…and at last crashed into the ground with no more force than if they had fallen from a single story building. Which was more than enough force to send them sprawling.

Thallan lay in the dry dust of the mountain valley for a long while, just slowly breathing and trying to give overworked muscles a rest, as well as overworked force senses. He knew Vaas was alive and would be out for a while, his injuries merely a fractured shoulder and minor concussion.

In time, Thallan gathered the energy needed to drag himself and Vaas to his scout ship. Once Vaas was settled into the small medbay, Thallan collapsed into the pilots couch and took his helm off, breathing the cool, recycled air of the vessel gratefully.

Thallan came awake with a gasp, unaware of having fallen asleep, or even how much time had passed. His heart was pounding in his chest, he felt the oppressive aura of the dark side of the force.

“Orbital array detects many objects in orbit. Calculations suggest they are attack vessels. The fleet is moving into planetary assault formation. Opening fire on the planet.” The ships computer reported.

Thallan quickly patched his view into the signal from the orbital satellite, watching as a Republic Frigate was destroyed as it attempted to reach hyperspace. The satellite signal faded to static as it, too was destroyed. Thallan sat in silence as he listened to the distant bombardment of Bakura.

The situation had turned, again. Those ships were unfamiliar, but the feeling of the Dark Side pervaded. They were undoubtedly Sith. The Council of First Knowledge had been correct. The Sith had found a way to return to threaten the galaxy once more, as they had foretold. And Thallan was the only real threat to that invasion in this sector. What should he do? How long did he have to decide?
Master B’kal had once told the Shadow’s that the thing that set them most apart was their ability to make intelligent decisions when other Jedi might lead with their heart.

“It is the duty of a Shadow to think twice before charging into combat, often to an honorable death. Even when innocent life is at stake, the Shadow must have the courage to stand by and wait for a chance to strike effectively, at the source of the problem. Bow to necessity. Blend in, stay quiet, watch from the shadows for your chance to make a real difference. That is our way.”

Thallan let out a deep breath he didn’t even remember taking, and felt himself immediately relax. This situation was no worse than anything he’d done in the last 15 years of service. He just had to remember not to use the force, even in dire need. Not until he could make it count. He stood from the pilot couch and went back to the med bay, slapping Vaas awake.

“Wh-what!? What do you want?” The Alderaan born man was in great confusion and panic.

“Listen very carefully, Retton Vaas. We’re still on Bakura and for the moment, still alive. But there is a massive Sith fleet in orbit above us and they are attacking this planet. You’re life depends on two things. My protection…and whether you are willing to help me defend the Republic.”

Vaas was quiet, watching Thallan and seemingly calculating the odds. “What do you want from me?”

“You and I are going to offer the new Sith overlords any help we can. We’re going to get them to trust us Vaas. And we’re going to go as far as we possibly can up their ranks, as quickly as possible.”

"B-but why? If they intend to conquer the Republic, then surely-“

“We’re all alone out here Vaas. Just one Jedi Shadow and one failed crime lord, who also happens to be a disgraced minor noble. I don’t expect you to care about the Republic, but you should at least care about the people you left back home on Alderaan. If we don’t infiltrate this enemy fleet, everyone you’ve ever worked with, worked for, cared about, hated, loved, or even known…will die.”

Aima Edo

The décor was dreary and run down. The lighting was poor. There was a circle of people watching as the middle area of the bar had been cleared out forming a fighting ring. Most of the crowd in this bar was very surly looking to say the least, even for Nar Shadaa standards.

With a throaty purr of laughter Aima Edo slammed her fist into the face of one of the fighters … The huge gamorrean crashed down upon the flimsy wooden table on the outer ring of the fighting area. The massive creature crushed it. Aima gleefully spun into her next victim, with a blow to his knee and an elbow to its head. Her strikes, footing and moves were meticulously and measured … although there was a wildness and recklessness that shone through her fighting art form.

“What you failed to realize … is that I, as a Sublime Warrior of the Eshan Monasteries, have read your body movements and analyzed them with my highly trained sense of combat. I have fought this battle in my mind … and already know that I shall defeat all of you!” She commented more to herself than the low intelligent gamorrean fighters. Nevertheless, taking on 10 of them with no weapons but her hands and feet was a challenge. People in the bar had made wagers … most of them against the beautiful young Echani woman. The woman, who now had a coy smile on her oh so kissable lips as she tossed another gamorrean onto the ground with a flying kick. Her silver eyes and silken white hair tied into two spiky knobs on her head rotated to move out of the way of two charging fighters … allowing them to crash into each other. Both knocked out cold. Even within her fighting robs, the crowd could tell this white hair woman had a voluptuous and ravishing figure, taut and toned from a life of battle. Echani fought with little armor … preferring speed and agility over protection. Aima’s long sexy legs clad in a pair of skin tight white leather body suit delivered a powerful blow, knocking the wind out of the 9th gamorrean opponent.

“As I predicted … this fight is almost over!” She said. This was when she was hit with stun weapon at close range. The blast took her completely by surprise and spun her half way around. It was amazing she was still on her feet after the weapon discharge.

“What …??” She gasped in surprise as the last Gamorrean fighter rammed into her at full speed …. Sending her flying into the side wall of the bar with a thud. The big fighter came towards her sprawled figure for the knockout blow.

Alec Starx

Nar Shaddaa, a place to find anything you needed and also a place to sell anything, no questions asked. Alec had sold off the modified blasters he had taken from the bodyguards of the last target he had taken out. Of course the lightsaber would not be easy to sell and that was why it had been broken up in parts and sold off to different traders, the weapon might find it's way back to the Sith, but he didn't really care, he had the credits. He had drained his glass when the Echani entered, he sensed her more than see her, The Force whispered to him through her, she was not trained in using the power she wielded though.

She only captured his interest as the clearing was made and the betting started, he uncoiled himself from his seat and drifted closer. The betting was heavy against the Echani and Alec placed a bet on her. It seemed like one of the Gamorreans was a favorite as huge amounts was laid on him to finish the fight. Soon everybody who didn't know the Echani came to understand who and what they were as the Echani dispatched her foes with cocky ease.

Alec saw the blaster's barrel appear and the stun ray caught the Echani off-guard, of course Alec knew that it would seem fair to all, but to him it meant credits. He stepped forward, his right hand deflecting the blow which would have knocked the Echani unconcious, his elbow connected with the Gamorrean's face and as the fighter staggered backwards, a knife edge chop just under the ear sent the warrior to the ground. Stunned silence followed, then the barrel of the blaster trained on him, he drew and fired his own blaster, killing the Twi'lek where he stood. "Allright, who is next to deny me my credits?"

Of course there wasn't anybody, Alec slid the blaster into its holster and snagged the bookie who owed him a handy sum of credits, "You have something that belongs to me." A few moments later Alec had his credits and with a small smile he headed to the door, he was sure that the Huts would demand blood money for the death of a patron. He would pay them, but not before finding another job.

“It’s another beautiful morning here on the Carida Academy Parade Grounds,” said a young human woman who had absolutely no right to be that cheerful so early in the morning, at least in Xerran’s opinion, on the cafeteria vidscreen. In the background, cadet platoons and squads of troopers could both be seen going through their morning PT schedules. “Let’s start things of with this morning’s…”

Xerran tuned out the broadcast, as it just made him want to cause the vidscreen to short out. However, his morning caf was more important at the moment. It had been a long night last night, especially with a staff meeting that just went on and on, followed by hours of grading nearly a hundred multi-page papers, each of which were supposed to be an analysis of select battles from the Mandalorian Wars. The only thing that allowed Xerran to even be functional in time for his upcoming early morning lecture was a Force-enhanced power nap.

Late nights and early mornings were becoming a regular thing for Xerran, so much so that his students had learned to judge his mood by the size of the caf cup in his hand, with smaller being better, and today was a thirty-two ounce day.

With caf in one hand and the stack of graded papers in the other, Xerran breezed into his morning lecture, grumbling a greeting and dumping the papers on a desk up front for the students to pick up on their own time. None of the students said a word in reply; they were smart and once they saw the cup in his hand, they were ready to start. Even though he was a civilian by military standards, the students could almost sense that you didn’t mess with Mr. Xerran, especially this early in the morning.

As they often did, the students secretly marveled at how Xerran managed to keep the cup in his hand, and how the caf stayed warm, throughout the entire two hour lecture as he reviewed the tactics used during the past wars. Dressed as he was in civilian attire, none of the students knew Xerran was really a Jedi Master, and they wouldn’t know until the day he showed up at their graduation ceremony wearing full Jedi robes. That’s the way the military wanted it to be, and Xerran didn’t mind.

The lecture over, and his caf only half gone, it was time for Xerran to reset for his next class. The Force, however, had other plans.

Xerran blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room around him, lit for the most part by several holo-projections, most notable those of several high-ranking military officials and even a pair of members from the Jedi Council, all of whom, including those physically present, were staring at him.

“I believe we have our answer as to why this meeting was called, gentlemen,” said one of the Council members.

“What the hell was that, Master Xerran?” asked one of the officers present.

“What was what?” replied, Xerran, thoroughly confused and drawing a blank on how he got from his classroom to this obviously high-power meeting.

“What? You mean you don’t…” began the officer.

“Of course he doesn’t, Major,” cut in the Council member. “Few would remember what was said or done in moments like that. Replay the recording, please.”

A hologram of Xerran appeared over the table in front of them all, caf cup still in hand but his expression blank, his eyes vacant. But his voice was something else entirely. Even through the recording, it was obvious that Xerran did not speak with his own voice; the voice that came forth was deep, filled with power, and seemed to fill the entire room. It was the voice of the Force itself.

“Darkness moves to extinguish Light. An old enemy, long thought defeated and broken, now strong and unified, returns with Destiny leading the way. The Darkness seeks domination and revenge, and the Light shall tremble before it.”

As the hologram faded away, Xerran could only stare like everyone else had. It was one of the projections of an officer, a general by the looks of the uniform, who broke the silence.

“So, what does it mean?”

Xerran said the first thing that came to his mind.

“War has come.”

Aima

The pain in her head was only compounded by the embarrassment of her sprawled out form with her legs wide open and one of her breasts almost poking out of her robes. Nevertheless, she laid there waiting for the Gamorrean approach. But through the sparkling dots dancing in her vision, she saw a human knife edge chop the huge green Gamorrean just under the ear and the monster drop to the floor like a sack of pickled space worms!

A new fighting form! She had never seen that done before. Then the human disappointed her a small amount, with the blaster shot that killed the Twi'lek. She was expecting something more imaginative something more communicative. Still the Twi’lek had ruined her artful fight, and for that vandalism, his guts were now splattered against the wall. When would the other races learn to communicate and express themselves through combat like the Echani?

Normally, Aima would have been content to just lay there until the ringing in her head stopped. But the man that knew that unique fighting move was walking out of the bar! Although the great throbbing pain in her head increased, she staggered to her feet.

“That’s it,” She groaned to the crowd. “I’ll be providing another demonstration of the Echani fighting skills tomorrow at this same time.” She explained and did a traditional complex Echani bow. Then she grabbed a Corellian rum off the bar counter top and raced after the human. She downed the drink in a single gulp as the voice of the bartender calling after her. She flipped the glass high into the air and yelled “catch”. As she heard the sound of the glass breaking … she saw the human walking along the store fronts. She flung a credit chip over her back with a yell of “Keep the change” and raced to get in front of human. She did and blocked his way. She put both her hand on his chest to stop him.

“Wait … how did you do that? That knife edge chop just under the ear? I must learn it!” Aima said in total excitement. The man was just staring at her, like she was crazy. She was use to that … but it made Aima stop and realize she had again become overly excited and had not explained herself. So captivated, obsessed with learning a new fighting move she had gone too far. She pulled her hands away and straightened her robe out. Luckily thing too … as she had been exposing enough cleavage to make the man think she was a Twi'lek sex slave.

“I’m sorry … let me explain … my name is Aima Edo” She said. She did the traditional Echani bow “First … Thank you for the assistance back there. I was in a bit of trouble. I would like to repay you in some way. Additionally, I have been wandering the galaxy collecting new fighting moves and techniques. I wish to learn that knife chop move you used … I have never seen it before. It looks similar to a Thyrsian’ fighting move, but the thyrsian move, uses both hands and is aimed at the ears … not below the ears.” Aima explained.

Alixa Jen'ai

Alixa Jen'ai, Jedi Knight, sat in her quarters on Coruscant, trailing her fingers along her Master's lightsaber, the only relic she held close and dear.

Sighing, she placed the weapon upon her utility belt, next to her own. One could tell the two lightsabers apart. Her Master's was much more suited for Form IV, while her own was for the much more elegant style of Form II.

She stood up and looked in the mirror, tucking her hair behind her ear. She started Force-healing her scar, a souvenir of the Sith she fought just a month ago.

"Al'ixa? We have a mission for you," Master K'yro said in her comlink.

"I'll meet you in the Council Room," she informed him, stopping her healing.

"No need to do that. This assignment is not to be on record."

"Where do you need me to go?" she asked, starting to pack her things.

"Go to Dathomir, speak to them. War is upon us. We can all sense it. Will you be fine solo?"

"Yes, Master K'yro," she said respectfully.

"Alright, your shuttle is being prepped as we speak. May the Force be with you."

"Thank you, and may the Force be with you," she replied back.

Dann

Once outside of his quarters, he found that not only had other Jedi receive the face and red bladed lightsaber, things were suddenly in turmoil. The Jedi council had been called into meeting, the usual calm of the Academy had a tension to it, Dann could feel as much as sense the aprehesion in the air, steps were slightly faster, mouths slightly tighter. Dann had no idea what to do, he had just finished his training as Jedi Guardian, his old master was the only one he could have turned to for advice, but his master had disappeared a forthnight ago. Nobody seemed to know anything about it, but Dann knew that master Olda Kenn had been killed.

For a moment longer he stood, not certain which way to go or who to ask. He had no orders and he knew that due to his probation he was not allowed to act unless the Jedi council had given him leave to do so. He subdued his frustration, took the calming breaths needed to bring himself under control. He started towards the council chamber, he would wait outside and if they do not know of the vission yet, he'd report that as well as ask what his action should be.

Alec

He paused when the Echani stopped him, then she spewed out a string of words, clearly in an excited state of mind...Alec did of course notice her rather abundant busom, he had to be dead not to, then she seemed to calm herself and tuck her robe back into position, then she introduced herself as Aima Edo. Alec just stared at her, she really thought that he would just share his styles with her? He snorted and moved to brush passed her, only to find his arm in a vice-like hold, he gave her a glare,

"I am not a teacher nor instructor, you want to learn how to fight, then do what I did and travel."

He twisted, pulled, pushed and with a wriggle his arm was free, he could see that she was not used to that either,

"Now if you will excuse me, I have a work to find."

With that he walked further down the street.

Alixa headed toward her ship after she finished packing and took a quick shower in the 'fresher. Most of her things were made of protein packs and a few hundred credits.

Pulling her cloak on tighter, she glanced over by the council room. She could hear the whispers, feel the tension, and it made her even more tense.

Technically, she should not go on this mission alone. But she was merely supposed to gather information on Dathomir, and that she was perfectly fine doing.

The Sith were coming, that she knew. The Sith who escaped told her that much.

Rolling out her neck, she gazed at her shuttle with a steely eye. Technically, Jedi weren't allowed to have that many possessions, especially if one was a Knight. But this was her pride and joy, her escape from being a Jedi and to just be Human for once. She was relatively young.

She noticed a Guardian standing outside, and something compelled her to set her pack down and walk over to him, curious. "Excuse me," she said softly, looking up at the Guardian. "Do you need something?"

Dann

He could sense the approach of the knight, as the only Azanti ever to be allowed to be in the academy, he was mildly surprised that she did not seem to recognize her. He gave her the traditional bow, she was his superior in experience.

"I am awaiting to find if I will be granted an audience. During my meditation I received a Force message sent by a Jedi from a planet that I do not know. I want to describe the message to the council and find if there is any instructions for me." He could sense a certain amount of secrecy in her mind, it seemed that she had instructions as well.

"I am under probation, I may not leave the academy unless I am escorted by another Jedi. Due to the...nature of my species, I am still under a small amount of suspicion."

"May I ask what planet?" she asked respectfully. She got good, but troubled vibes off of the Azanti, and she didn't care. To her, it didn't matter what species a being was. If they could do the job assigned to them, and do it correctly, that was all that mattered to her. "A Force message? Like a premonition?" she asked.

"Practically like a vision yes, like when one would send their thoughts through the Force to another. I can not say which planet, there was heavy smoke and the person who had sent the message was concentrating on Zabrak who carries a red bladed light sabre. Though behind the face was a structure, only briefly glimpsed, it looked like the Jedi outpost on Bakura, but again, I can not be certain." Dann took a deep breath after that long monologue.

"I could see no more, the vision blurred, like when one would lose concentration, fear flowed through this message and then..." Dann drew a slow breath, "Intense pain and a sudden void, like the Force had been unnaturally been manipulated...I...I have never felt anything like it. I fear that, like my old master Olda Kenn, this Jedi have died a violent death.

Getting to know you

“DRUK!!” (note to reader Druk is an alien word for excrement) Aima yelled as she again raced to get in front of him, then turned and blocked his way.

“You say you are not a teacher or an instructor … then perhaps you wish to be a student? I have had the opportunity to mentor others … as I taught I also learned from them. A wise teacher will remember that she is still a student” Aima explained to the now clearly frustrated human. She understood from his frown, he did not share her excitement over learning.

“NO” He fumed

“Ok … if it is work you seek. I can pay you. How much for a one hour lesson on the knife chop? Or better I can teach you a unique fighting move … something from the Desert Panther style … or The Stone Serpent?” She suggested

“NO” he repeated.

Aima assumed a fighters stance. Echani believe that in a brief moment of combat, you learn more about a person than you could in hours of conversation. She was going to have a Echani “conversation” with him now. Right here on the streets of Nar Shadaa.

She threw a punch at his jaw, a fluid, graceful move with surprising amount of force behind it. He easily deflected the punch. As the punch was just a test of his reactions … She read a wealth of information from how he had deflected the punch. There was a trace of street fighter in him … maybe when he was younger.

Had he skills in Echani fighting communication … he learned her passion for life. Also the fact that she threw the first punch said that she was confrontational, that she didn't shy away from a challenge.

She tried to trip him with a leg thrust that he avoided and then he lunged forward with a quick punch that she ducked, rolled on the street to avoid the follow up jab. She sprang back into a fighting stance a heartbeat later. She had learned from that exchange he was quick, intelligent, could easily adapt to any situation. She smirked at him a little, pleased with what she was learning.

A quick twist, fake jab and she was on the offensive again, her hands a flurry of movement as she punched and jabbed at him. She landed a few, but he blocked the rest. She learned he was patient … waiting for the right moment to strike. What he learned from her was tenacious, wild, and reckless.
With a quick flick of his hand he caught her wrist and tugged her close in front of him, holding her arms with one hand and wrapping his free arm around her neck. A shift of the hips, a jab of the elbow to his ribcage, and she was free.

“You will need to do better than that!” Aima taunted him. She launched a series of attacks. Again she landed a few blows, but nothing he could not handle. She moved to kick him in his side but he caught her leg. It was enough to toss her to the street. But she rolled back onto her feet with the quickness of a cat. She charged at him, but that was a feint and then tried to elbow him in the face. He ducked and she missed. She learned, he knew much of disguise and subtly, he knew of traps. He learned she was headstrong, and she was full of passion.

She moved to lunge at him again and he dropped to the floor, kicking out his legs to catch her off balance. This time when she fell to the ground, he pounced on her. He grasped her wrists and pinned her arms above her head with one hand while he placed his forearm against her throat. She glared up at him, eyes hard, nostrils flared. He learned even in defeat she was indomitable, she learned he had a softer side but that he was also a killer ... an assassin!

Suddenly, her eyes softened, and a smile curved on her lips. "So" she breathed, his face inches from hers. She moved up as he let her get closer to him … she pressed her lips to his, gently, hesitantly. He relaxed for just one second and she wriggled under him … wrapped her legs around his hips, and she tugged her wrists free of his hands. An instant later, she was straddling him, his hands pinned to the ground above him, her forearm at his throat, a mirror of their previous position. "I think we understand each other better?" she said with a smirk.

Alec

He glared up at the Echani, he knew that she knew, he could see it in her eyes, the kiss might have been a distraction, but it also told him that her passions did not include males. He had trained with an Echani, he knew of her, exactly as much as she knew about him. He leaned up, his eyes still locked on her own,

"You play a dangerous game." His words was soft, it was what he used to do what she would not expect, even with her arm digging into his throat he pushed upward, his eyes locked on her own, their faces so close that it might have seemed like he was aiming to kiss her, "Some things are best left unlearned."

He pushed both arms upwards, using the momentum to throw himself back on to the ground, his heels kicked against the ground, adding a slight bit of the Force to his momentum, he pitched her clear off of him and rolled backwards on to his feet, dusting off his jacket. "I will not do the Echani dance with you, you know to what it leads." Of course he referred to the ritual of Echani training, it starts as training, then communication and then one learns the inner-most of the person you train with, nine times out of ten training partners had intimate carnal knowledge of each other.

Alec pushed his hair back into position and after another glance at the sprawled Echani, he walked away. Of course he had lied, he wanted very much to do the Echani dance with Aima, but he knew that it was a distraction he could not afford, he also knew that it would never be completed since she has a thing for women and he was lacking in that department. He grinned inwardly, wondering if she'd try to stop him again.

Alixa's eyes widened as he related his vision. "I think you better see the Council," she said softly, agreeing with him. "It does sound like a Force manipulation. Geez, what am I thinking? You need rest, and food," she added. She reached onto her utility belt and opened a pouch. She gave him a couple of palis. "Here, eat. Force manipulated visions take a lot out of one who sees a vision."

She looked at him mournfully. "I, too, lost my Master. Just a few weeks ago. Not to a Zabrak Sith, although I fear that is where my mission now leads me. . ."

She tossed her bangs out of her face and put out her hand for a handshake. "Alixa Jen'ai, Jedi Knight," she whispered softly.

Dann

He hid the smile which came to mind, this female clearly had no idea that the Azanti needed other nourishment, but he could eat, so that didn't bother him too much. He carefully ate the two palis which had been handed to him, he waited for a few moments, there was no strange feeling and then something made him look back at her,

"Wait...I thought that I have not been the only one who had seen this vision, if there is nobody else, why is there so much apprehension? Is there news that I have missed during my meditation?"

He then noticed the hand and took it in a warm, firm grip,

"Dann Jakk...I guess I am now a Jedi Guardian since I passed the final tests."

He released her hand, he could sense the power inside of her, also he could sense the surface feelings from that touch.

"Is it part of the reason why the council is in an unscheduled sitting?"

"I'm not sure. I know we're on the brink of war, they're sending Knights and Guardians on all sorts of missions. Some are more covert than others, I would imagine, especially with certain ones. I know I was asked if I could handle it solo. The tension is palpable, it makes me want to vomit. There's fear in the air, deep dark fear. You can taste it, almost. I'm going to guess that the Sith are attempting to infiltrate other systems, systems close to the Republic. That's the only logical thing I can come up with," she said, pulling her cloak tighter.

Dann

He blinked,

"Sith? I thought their order destroyed, broken up in small tribes...", his voice trailed away and then he gave her another look, "Could it be that perhaps I have seen the face of a leader? But then again, how did the message come to me? Why did I feel the feelings of the Jedi just before his death?"

He paused and took a deep breath,

"I am sorry, I know that I should be directing my questions to the council." He tilted his head to one side, "Pardon me, but from what I know of your race, you are rather young to be a Knight. I mean no disrespect to you, I am just curious as to how you have attained the rank so...young."

She chuckled. "Trial of the Flesh," she said softly, moving her bangs back to reveal the scar across her eye. "Yes, it is rare for a Human Jedi to be Knighted at a young age, but in times of battle, it is not unheard of. My Master was killed by a Sith, who nearly took my life. This scar is all that he took from me, flesh wise, anyways. He escaped, unfortunately, but it was too late for me to save my Master. After careful consideration, the Council granted me the rank of Jedi Knight. It would've been difficult for me to find a new Master, anyways."

Aima "Stupid and Reckless" Edo

Aima Edo got up and dusted off her robes. “DRUK!! And DOUBLE DRUK!!” she cursed. She thought about what had just happened, how the human assassin had used the powers of the great dragon to throw her clear of him. How unsporting of him! She would not go after him, not over a fighting move. He was a killer … an assassin. He had warned her that further pursuit could end badly. A fighting move was not worth that … to pursue this further would be stupid and reckless.

She looked at his back as he walked away and then a wide smile spread across her lips.

“Stupid and reckless are my middle names! Of course I’m going to go after him! A challenge this difficult will be a true test of my skills!” She said to herself. She noted the overhead monitoring station and took down its serial number. Then she pulled out her commlink. She had friends in many places, on this world, and off it.

As she followed the human assassin through the street she made an off world transmission. On the other end of the commlink, was her old friend. Darkoo Malute from the Echani special assault team she and he was/were on. A small 3D figure appeared and looked at her.

“Wow Aima … you look great! That offer still stands … you want to try a man … I’ll be there!” Darkoo joked.

“Something is still STANDING alright … just don’t let yourself get blueballs … I hear that can be painful!” Aima joked back. Then she got serious “Hey … I need you to find out if there is anything on this man” she pressed a button on the link and a picture from the monitoring station of the human she had fought was sent to her buddy. “He is an assassin and a good one. Echani HQ has a pretty good data base for that kind of thing. Also you might check with the Jedi council … they might be looking for him as well ... oh and keep this all hush hush” She said.

“Aima … what the holy kark are you doing messing around with assassins!” Darkoo gasped.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing … he can’t kill me anymore I have set up an insurance policy.” Aima smiled to herself. “Get back with me when you know something … thanks!” The 3d image faded.

She started to run faster … The way she figured it … this assassin had two choices. 1) Let her live, thinking the warning and her common sense would not result in his identity being exposed. Or 2) he would cover his tracks … he would try to find her and shut her up for good.

She just managed to catch up with him … slipping in front of him one last time.

“You slimy piece of worm-ridden filth …I WILL learn that move from you!” Aima stated with an intensity that surprised the assassin. She began her attack with steps and moves that were a combination of Jedi, Echani and several other fighting styles and stances. They all flowed and meshed together in utter and complete symbiosis. She not only fought the assassin … but fought time as well … slowing it down with the use of the great dragon. Her blows and moves flowed seamlessly around her. She kept moving; her actions were quick but she was never out of breath. As she battle with the great dragon at her side, she created a serenity within her that could not be shaken by any physical blow of her opponent.

The assassin realized that in the earlier fight she had been holding back … showing only a small amount of her abilities … Aima was now in full combat mode. Surprisingly the blow, kicks, head butts that land had no force behind them. She had driven him back into a narrow alley. Then she stopped.

“Your secret is safe with me … we have fought … you know I speak the truth. You also know I do not give up easily! I would like to learn that move ... I will be your humble student ... if you would but teach me” Aima asked.

Alec

He had been expecting her to be back, her attacks was quite impressive and he could feel the Force manipulation. She definitely had no control over it, it was part of her, it seemed to come in use when she focused hard enough on an attack. Some of her attacks broke through yes, but he knew that she wasn't going for the kill, if she had, she'd be dead after her first punch.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, she wasn't one to give in was she? His secret? The fact that he was an assassin for hire? How could that have been a secret, he could change his identity and features in one week, why would he be worried about his secret? But she was clearly one who he could not get rid of until he had taught her what she wanted to know.

"Fine! Be at docking bay 7 at zero eight hundred tomorrow morning, if you're late I leave without you. If you follow me or intrude in my business while I'm here I will kill you, if you so much as threaten me again or even think that you can threaten me by giving me up to the highest bidder, I will kill you." He brushed passed her and walked into the street, turned and headed for the Pazaak den where he usually got his hits from.