Endless Night(revised)

[Crazedwraith]

You seem to be underusing your best character in this story.

I agree. Kuja deserves way more time than he's getting.

*prods* I disagree I want to see more Zaiaaaaaaaaaaa!

don't we all?

Nice chapter, anyway.

[Crown]

Don't listen to them Denis ... they're just a bunch of 'me too' from the peanut gallery!

[Ghost Rider]

Happy Birthday Zaia!

2-4



And oh yeah the chapter thingie

“Zaia!” I’Brat exclaimed from across the promenade in front of the Jedi Temple. She rushed past other Jedi, adjusting her shirt while people glanced as her hair went everywhere. Zaia for her part seemed to ignore the cry and calmly walked towards the stairs of the Jedi Temple.

I’Brat just shook her head and hastened her pace as Zaia continued to walk, when she caught up with her she expected some reaction, but for all intents Zaia was inscrutable. I’Brat just shook her head as she mapped out the entire conversation in her head, then she heard a small voice in the back.

“I’m being the arrogant one?” Zaia said without turning around. For her part, I’Brat just smirked.

“Would have hurt so much to at least let go of your shield and have some fun?” I’Brat said as she finally smoothed out her light green shirt.

“No, but given that apparently drinking and having a generally good time was to you, too strict and I should dance and rub my body against two Twi’lek women.”

“I never said that!” I’Brat said.

“After your sixteenth S’ecol you did.” Zaia said with her arms across her chest.

I’Brat pursed her lips looking up at nothing, trying to remember it. After a few moments she shrugged. “Maybe I did, still doesn’t mean you couldn’t have lightened up.”

“I was enjoying myself, thank you very much.”

“No, you weren’t. You were mooning or bemoaning, whichever you want, over Kuja and that he didn’t respond to your holotell.”

“I was doing no such thing.”

“You sat there looking out at the doorway for a half hour! What do you call that, just waiting for some hot action to walk in and sweep you off your feet?!”

“Maybe I was bored.”

“That’s because you didn’t do anything except sit by your drink! I mean even when Derith was away you had fun. Even early on with Kuja you had fun on our nights out...now? You sat there for three hours and looked at the door or at your drink. What happened now?”

“Nothing...really it’s nothing.” Zaia said with her eyes to the sky.

“Oh because that look says ‘Nothing wrong here.’” I’Brat said as she smiled crookedly.

“It’s nothing I cannot handle.”

“Right, because in a today or tomorrow, Kuja will be the Padawan to the same man that you had an outing with. So you’ll be seeing more of him and less of Kuja in a fashion. And that has nothing to do with it. Which goes back to my original point why did you ever date Kuja?” I’Brat asked coldly.

“Because he was kind, gentle and a wonderful man to be with and...” Zaia retorted with a frown.

“Please, don’t tell me you mistook his near abject worship and puppy love as that.” I’Brat said rolling her eyes.

“What exactly are you implying?”

“You both were looking for something that wasn’t there. At least with Derith he was fumbling and trying. Kuja is trying but he doesn’t have something Derith had. No illusions of who you are. Kuja is more in love with your legend and stories then you, literally you are a female version of Derith in his mind.”

“Right.” Zaia said, crooking a single eyebrow.

“Fine then let’s examine the facts. Derith, Connor, Gil and many others knew you before literally the legend of this warrior goddess came about. Master Marina did a lot of good when he made you able to be one of the best lightsaber wielders of our age, unfortunately when ever Jedi male heard of this they became instantly enamored with the thought.”

“I hardly see much value in that assessment. I am a Jedi, my popularity is hardly the reason Kuja is in any relation with me. ”

“Like I said last time, it’s amazing how popular Maya is amongst her fellow Padawans. Kuja is near revered. If you cannot see either of these, it’s because you are too close to the source.” I’Brat said shaking her head.

“So please get to the point.”

“The point, you say?” Fine. The point is that Kuja is possibly in love with you, but much more so with what you are literally as near iconic figure, he never had the chance to see the real you and the way you pretty much went after him, it further destroyed any possibility of him seeing the real you. At least Derith and Edi had a chance to see that.”

Zaia just stood there gaping at her friend. She tried to assimilate the sheer deluge of what she thought of nothing as nonsense. Derith and Edi to an extent, while knew her before her supposed legend on Nar Kadde did not mean in her mind that everyone after that was nothing but a product of propaganda. To her this conversation would come to end, now.

“Just to clear up a few things, Kuja pursued me. If I was this legendary goddess I do not believe anyone would have even the slightest notion of doing such, as I would be too sacred or far too good for them. So let’s at least get that out of the way. I enjoyed his company because he actively pursued instead of making me wonder if I was ever liked or was my company even appreciated. At times with Derith I wondered if he didn’t in some way have some illusions of me being this sacred treasure.”

“Oh please don’t rewrite history. Edi was a calm and gentle boy who the both of you fumbled to what it meant to be in love and realized neither of you were ready. And Derith was just a man, but his intentions were poor because where did he get any of his advice from? His taskmaster. If anything they were normal with a few circumstances, except I will say you and Derith was a mess between mixed signals and reading.”

“Oh please, illuminate how stupid we obviously were.” Zaia said crossing her arms across her chest and tilting her head off to the side as she awaited the response.

“Let’s just start off with the thought that you thought it was okay that to discuss his ideas only after missions, but rarely protest about his constant want or need to just simply obey his master. You let him go on thses things, even though time after time you came to me despising that he risked his life.”

“Right, because he devotes himself to something is silly. I’m sure Dorsk was all for you going and gallivanting about the galaxy searching for new ruins, and sites. Oh wait, he did express his displeasure, you just ignored it. In fact, I did protest more then not, it was he was as bullheaded as you were.”

“I took it under consideration and I am hardly stubborn. His suggestions just lacked anything beyond some bit of being together.” I’Brat said coldly.

“Of course, you did. For a whole three seconds, then the whole lure of finding that yet another new artifact just called to you. So you just simply went and told yourself that there would be a next time. And when came the time there wasn’t? And as for wanting to be together, that is the whole point of a relationship!”

“I never...” I’Brat began to say with Zaia raising her eyebrows in amazement, with that I’Brat simply said nothing and seethed for a bit.

“So anything to say about that part of my life, again?”

“Only this, regardless of how you want to recreate those events, you have to seriously delude yourself if you still cannot see that Kuja is still more in love with what you represent in his mind, then who you are.”

“Delude myself? How DARE you!” Zaia roared.

“Because no one else will even begin to try, that’s why.” I’Brat said, slitting her eyes. Her mouth became a thin ruled line as she stared directly into her friend’s glare. Her body shifted slightly as she crossed her arms and straighten her shoulders.

“I understand because like I just demonstrated, you’re superior then I am, in matters of the heart.” Zaia said, standing a bit straighter and mimicking her friend’s glare. Around them a small crowd began to emerge to see what was happening. A few Padawans and some Knights stood a good couple meters away quietly whispering amongst themselves.

“I see. So we’re flinging accusations?”

“No, just stating what is the honest truth about what you just threw at me. You are no higher standard then myself, thus judging me on matters you, yourself have not exactly...performed with any sort of stellar result, does not give you any better say on such matters.”

“Fine, you’re right. With you and Derith, you were both being blind and was no different then myself, but if you believe that my situation comes even close to Kuja’s I would like to point a couple facts about his recent behavior.”

“Oh, so you admit...”

“Before you finish that thought, here are a few points. One, Kuja has in the last three months been seen more with Durandal then yourself. Think about that. You can argue that you have your private time, but every moment he was at the Jedi Temple he purposefully sought out Durandal.”

Zaia looked away. “He was seeking...”

“What the wisdom of a Jedi Master, who he barely had any contact before hand? I’m sorry Zaia, but you’ve put more energy then him. In fact you keep putting energy into it, when it’s obvious he doesn’t have the same interest.” I’Brat said.

“How can you...” Zaia said with her mouth agape.

“I can because it’s obvious. He cares for you, but literally you forced more of this relation onto him then not. You wanted him to replace Derith in such a short span, all Kuja has done is literally obey pretty much your whimsy. The problem is, he’s so enamored by you and what you are, and he doesn’t see it at all. And now he becomes literally a mirror of Derith only now saddled with a completely clouded view of you”

“I see, so am I just to abandon this whole thing because it will obviously end in failure?” Zaia said with a raise of her eyebrow and a smirk.

“No! But you are not seeing things because you want to be loved above all else.”

“Right and, maybe just maybe, I see the problem. Unlike your choice, I want to solve them and not drown them in cheap liquor and one night friends.” Zaia said with a final glare and left with a swirl of her cloak. I’Brat slumped her shoulders in defeat and looked at the crowd with a hard stare. The few knights that could meet the glare bowed their heads and left with a quickness speed more by need then want.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Derith stood before the statue of Luke Skywalker. For him this was always a place of solace, in the shadow of what he considered the greatest of Jedi he could always find a sea of calm. What he felt was so profound of this legend was that from the ashes of the Great Purge he was able to restore the Jedi, which held even after his death. His report to the Council both frightened and excited him. The part of being frightened was easy enough to comprehend. The Sith had returned and were bold enough to send a warrior of their highest peer into a near public display. The Sith, or the proper Sith had laid low for nearly a thousand years since the reign of Darth Strife, who was the last known true Sith lord. His war consumed the galaxy and descended it into a war of nearly ten years. In the process of destroying many systems and testing the resolve of the Alliance, it nearly destroyed the Jedi Order and had amongst its untold casualties, Luke Skywalker. To Derith he hoped he would never hear anything of its peer ever again.

The aspect that excited him of combat with a being who could stand more then a few seconds was something he felt some shame. The thought of such a warrior who he could do some battle with was intriguing, but the shame was the enjoyment of the upcoming battle and that this monster had killed at least ten to possibly thirteen others. Amongst this number included Master S’tev’e, a Jedi master who was easily on par with any on the Council. What disturbed was this being’s other claims, which were unfortunately were too hard to dispute. He hoped the Council would bring some insight to this situation. But he had to wonder why no one on the Council spoke of it. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. No, they obviously had a good reason, and perhaps they would tell him or not, but his was not to question...not now anyway.

That lead to the other regret, he wondered if he was right to let the battle last so long, instead of killing the Sith Lord. It was very possible given the skills and abilities that this being was the master and his destruction would have ended any threat. The apprentice may be a formidable opponent but without proper tutelage would be found out and destroyed. No, he told himself, he was right in trying to divine the source. This being was obvious who is at the heart of what looks to be a conflict within the Alliance and this needed to be revealed to the Council. Then he would be given the mission to hunt and root out this disease. What was shown was a weapon, not the wielder.

He looked up at the statue for support and for some reason a small voice told him, he would find no advice from Skywalker, since he never had before. He shook his head with a smile, which was such a preposterous thought. Yet for some reason the voice then chuckled at that and went silent. He realized, for a second, that voice wasn’t an echo of his thoughts. Before he could digest this thought, he felt someone behind him staring at him.

“Yes?” Derith said still looking up at the statue.

“Are you Master Derith Rider?” the voice said. He could barely place it, its tones was calm and yet was skittish, yet familiar. Then it occurred to him where he heard the voice. Master Phongn had sent this student to negotiate the release of hundreds of Ithorians. Durandal had sent him on bodyguard detail for the group of diplomats. Which sparked another feeling of regret for not exterminating the Sith vermin.

“I am, but with the master title. I am merely a Jedi knight.” Derith said as he turned to see the smiling face of Kuja before him. “And why do you ask Padawan Kuja?”

“You know of me?” Kuja said his eyes wide with amazement. “I mean of course you know me, you were a part of the Rodian detail.”

“I’m glad you remember me. Now why did you say Master appellation to my name. I have not taken on a Padawan.”

“Right, you haven’t.” Kuja said with a smile. “Though I have to admit you are far more personable then I would imagine.”

“How so?” Derith said.

“Well, for one, most think all you would do is just grunt, as an acknowledgement.”

“I feel that speaking would be more appealing to those who don’t understand my obvious wisdom in simply growling or grunting.” Derith said deadpan.

Kuja scrunched his face at Derith. “I assume that is a joke?”

“Perhaps.” Derith said with a smile. A small ball with a pair of spindly approached him. He turned and took the small pad from it arms as it left. “Now I must take my leave.”

“Oh I assure you I will be seeing you shortly, I also have a meeting with the Council after yourself.”

“Are you certain?”

“Quite. In fact what it’s about may surprise you.” Kuja said with a broad smile as they walked up the stairs to the elevator.

“I hate surprises.” Derith said as the doors shut, with Kuja warily looking at him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four men strode through the marbled hallway down one of the largest buildings in Coruscant. Of the four the head seemed to be the leader as he stood a couple meters from the group. Clad head to toe in a crimson armor, his archaic armor design came from an era long since dead. Numerous scorch marks marred his armor, but did not by any means deny it effectiveness. The man strode with a purposeful gait. On his side was a single pistol, with no other apparent weaponry. Behind him were three others, one a bear of a man, a single gaunt being, and another armored being, but one that was in complete contrast to the leader. The largest man was a solid wall of muscle and sinew with a bald head. His bright smile was contrasted by his single missing eye as he laughed to a joke that had rattled into his head. His clothing consisted of numerous mismatched armor, clothing and what appeared to be Wookiee scalps. Holstered to his back was an enormous gatling weapon of some sort. The second being flanking the enormous being was in complete contrast. It appeared as an immensely emaciated being swath in a huge cloak covering his body. His fingers were gaunt and crackling with the skin clinging to them as if all life had fled from his being. Beneath him hinted at a large cache of knives and guns of all sorts. The only thing that peered from his hood was a large row of white teeth. The final was another clad in armor in head to toe, with a large rocket launched on his back and slung in his arm was a rifle twice the size of his arm. Instead of a singular design, his armor was a complete mishmash of Mandolorian, army and other complete unknown sources, including for what appeared for all case a pink tutu girding his loins.

“Ah, Necron what you need is good Cadian woman, none of these puny little Corellians!” the man roared with a smile to the thin man next to him.

“Perhaps, but I like my women unable to crush me with their arms.” Necron said beneath his green hood which covered almost all of his face except his mouth which seemed to have rows of teeth. “Consider me a traditionalist, Galkin.”

“Bah, on Cadia our women wrestle the Kyrian bears barehanded in the heart of winter to prove they are worthy to be called woman. The rest of the galaxy seems to enjoy these small women who are nothing more then whiny little boxes of voice.”

“Perhaps, not everyone in the galaxy shares the Cadian mating rituals.” Necron said in a harsh whisper.

“Feh. The rest of the galaxy should appreciate the Cadian ways. Where women are strong, our liquor stronger! And I enjoy being able to take a good wrestle with my full bodied woman and then proceed with the mating! Though if you insist upon the small women, at least pick one that isn’t so...how do you say it...thin?” Galkin said.

“Ha ha, he’s right Necron, the last one you could see through her she was so thin!” the other armored figure said.

Necron turned his gaunt figure to look directly at the other figure, and straighten to his full height. Standing a full head above the other, he bore his yellow eyes into the armored one’s helmet. “Perhaps, but at least, I can acquire a woman beyond my hand or bribe one with credits...Shep.”

“Hey, my hand has only been touching Matilda here, and she was not paid for!” Shep replied.

“Right, because you saying you had gotten her from a brothel meant she came from a strange bar.”

“How was I supposed to know what that word meant? Could’ve meant anything! Just because you know what it means doesn’t mean it doesn’t have another meaning or something.”

“Your dearth of knowledge continually amazes me Shep.”

“Yeah, and you’re just full of it. So you gonna do something, Necron? Or are you going to just stand there and look menacing?” Shep challenged as he shift his rifle.

“He has point, Shep. The last I saw you with woman, you had purchased her from what do they call it...a catalog?” Galkin said.

“She was not exactly a live one.” Necron said smiling as he continued to stare at Shep.

“You mean Shep was pleasuring with a dead one?”

“She was a droid!”

“You made love to a droid?” Galkin said, his face frowning as he tried to picture this. Necron for his part uttered a low chuckle as he shrunk back down to his former height. “I do not be understanding this, Shep...why?”

“Because he likes the feeling of cold metal against himself, why do you think he has that tutu or sleeps with his guns?” Necron said as he passed Galkin.

“This is no tutu; this is a Karnier 34-A groin protector!” Shep said. “And I only sleep with Matilda!”

“Right and naming it, Matilda, makes it so much better...” Necron was saying as Shep clenched his fists into two solid balls. He reared back and roared as he moved forward. Necron simply glided into a low stance, with a pair of knives appearing in his hands. Before anything could happen a armored hand was pushed Shep back into a wall and gripped Necron’s wrist, firmly.

“This ends now.” The man said as he looked at Shep. Necron for his part bowed his head slightly, and pulled his hand and knives away. Shep, for his part, simply shrugged and dusted himself off.

“Yeah, whatever Red.” Shep said as he cracked his neck. “So why are we here anyway?”

“Because it’s our job, now be quiet. Vigo Aerius does not pay us for our opinions.” Red said as they aligned themselves as the cobalt blue doors opened silently.

[Kuja]

I like these bad guys. Quite an eclectic mix, there.

[Lindar]

*Grabs Zaia, and I'B and hustles them off to the character closet, peers into the dimly illuminated place, then making sure the others aren't looking, adds them to the mix, shuts it and locks it, then scuttles back to attention*

*aplauds* Hurrah... But amna sure that Der is going to be happy next time he sees that one

[Zaia]

Awww. Debi! No more fighting for us!

[Ghost Rider]

Yeah well, taxes suck a lot

2-5

Aerius regarded the vista afforded to him and pondered how beautiful and hideous Coruscant truly was. The shining lights that hung within the shielded walls were hostile enough without the hints of some pointless war with one of the most powerful factions getting belligerent with a smaller power. This was also exacerbated by the thought that the newest lord of the Hapan Confederacy was seemingly an insane fool who vastly underestimates the power the Bothans can bring to bear.

He winced at the thought of what had occurred earlier with the Senate today, and thought of what could happen. It might be good for business to have such a conflict, or very, very bad. Good if the war is low key and drawn out...bad if it should escalate between allies and start destroying customers and making certain business opportunities difficult. Ah, well such is the way of a Vigo in Black Sun.

He shook his head in disgust, Black Sun needed a change. He had brought the first of them, but vile woman had escaped.

“Vympel.” He cursed, shaking his head as he looked out at Coruscant.

From the front of his black Alderaanian marble desk, a helmeted man directed his gaze to him. “Lord Vympel, head of Black Sun and your employer.” He stated.

Aerius afforded his a side long glance and looked at the motley group displayed before him. The main was a red clad humanoid, flanked by a large bald Cadian, and what looked to be a cloak supported by an unknown being underneath and two glowing yellow eyes. Coming up from behind was a far too armored being, which appeared to have some pink garment protecting the groin area. He simply waved off the obvious comment and its undertones. What did bounty hunters know of the complexities of politics and crimes, all they cared for was the next paycheck. He stood up and tugged downward on his purple tunic and smoothed his black ensemble and cape as he took several steps in his sanctum. His personal sanctum much like his building was solid, dependable, but...

Not an awesomely spacious place like Vympel’s, however. The master of Black Sun’s personal fortress was nearly as large and monolithic as the Jedi Temple or the Senate, but spoke of the power that one man wielded. When he was ever called for a meeting of all the major powers in Black Sun he stood in awe. Now that he had destroyed one former Vigo, he stood poised to take ascendance to Black Sun’s height...but there were a few matters that needed to be taken care of. Of which why these four men were here in his presence.

“So gentlemen, I hope that my notice was understood?” Aerius said to none of them in particular.

With that Red stepped forward. “Not really. We were contacted that you had a lucrative contract of relative ease, nothing else. This has alerted every single wannabe wanting a potshot at whoever has earned your wrath and given the professionals very little knowledge of what the undertaking truly is.”

“Yeah, in other words, what the frak?” Shep interrupted.

Aerius simply waved off Shep’s reply and looked directly at Red with his dull yellow eyes. “I wanted to give enough of a reason to allow a variety to participate in said event, and the best would obviously reap the reward.”

“And this puts the entire Coruscant Police force on high alert as well the possibility of Jedi intervention. Very poorly played, unless it’s your wish to see how many bounty hunters get killed or captured.” Red said staring at Aerius.

“Consider it a culling of the weak.” Aerius replied with arms wide open and a broad smile touching his lips.

“I consider it a waste, but whatever. Now will you tell us why such a bold pronouncement?” Red said observing each of his associate’s face; they in turn each looked at Aerius with questioning look. They wanted to know what would make such a newly minted Vigo perform such an obvious action. The Chancellor and the Senators barely tolerated Black Sun’s existence and in the past two hundred years Vympel had made it...unprofitable to try to ouster them. He held this truce by a thread, and having someone brazenly defy Republic law was not within anyone’s good will.

Aerius smirked. “Fine, we’ll dispense with the chatter, as per our last contract, you failed on one aspect; that being the termination of the target.”

“No, my contract was specifically to remove her from the Vigo hierarchy and insure you could install yourself in there without any trouble. The details were I was to use any means necessary.” Red said shaking his head, at the twist. People so often forget the small details and then try to blame the deliverer on the results they ordered.

“You didn’t believe killing her was necessary? She poses a direct threat to me!”

“Because she has one beat up relic of a ship? If that poses a threat to you, then you have a lot more to worry about, then just her.” Red said with Necron snickering.

Aerius breathe deeply, quietly reminding himself of his agreement. What she knew and why she had to be eliminated was not the province of mere bounty hunters. “Is that all you have to say on the matter?”

“Killing her would’ve made Vympel turn an eye on me and would’ve been counterproductive in any fashion. Thus no, I did not fail...that is unless you wanted him to take a deeper note of that event?” Red said as he let out a silent sigh. Truly this new one had no concept of a cascade effect.

“As from events earlier this week, I care not how much attention was garnered.” Aerius replied snidely.

Red nodded. “So you were the one who sent Coruscant traffic into an uproar. I’m sure that must’ve set you back some.”

Aerius merely glared at him, as Red simply shook his head.

“There are things, she knows, that I would like to be destroyed. Unless you have a spare Sith Lord at your disposal, her death is more then likely required for the event. And I want a body, no disintegrations.”

“Fine, twenty million.”

Aerius slammed his hands onto his desk with his eyes nearly bulging out. The other three turned just stared at Red. Shep opened his mouth a bit, about to say something and then promptly closed it.

“Ten million,” Aerius countered. “Total.”

“Twenty million.” Red repeated. “Each.”

“How dare....” Aerius huffed out.

“How dare I, you ask?” Red said with his arms folded. “Simple.”

Aerius’ hand hovered above a single button as he glowered at Red. “Give me three reasons not to have you killed.”

“Fine, I’ll give you three reasons you will pay our amount and smile.” Red said as he raised a single gloved hand with three fingers upright. “One, you are not truly a Vigo, not in Vympel’s eyes.”

“By what do you mean?” Aerius said with a twist flowing across his features.

“By what do I mean?” Red retorted. “You were not chosen by him in any ceremony, except by route of force. He trusts no one in reality, but the Vigos he places in charge he knows their abilities and motivations. Whenever someone performed a coup by violence and blackmail as you have done? He never has trusted anyone who has done this in his twenty years as the lord of Black Sun.”

“This has any bearing to...”

“Let me finish, boy.” Red said. “Vympel is now looking for any reason, be it reasonable or otherwise to replace you. You are under the heaviest scrutiny over any action and you are an unknown quantity. This act to cover the last of your trail has to be done with professionalism and swiftness. Any loss of profit in your particular ventures will not be looked upon kindly.”

Aerius kept staring.

“Two, you have already complicated the matter by that frigate incident and sending out idiots to do a professional job, this complicates the matter in another perspective. If this not done properly, Vympel will have a legitimate reason to ouster you. He will dispose of a newly minted Vigo to insure that various authorities are appeased and that Black Sun can keep its members under control.” Red said. “And finally? This target knows something that you want to keep quiet beyond just your disposition of her current position. I know you well enough Aerius. If you could, you would’ve sent your Echani assassins and done the deed, but you didn’t. Thus whatever she has is more then worth a paltry eighty million and she has some way of delivering this message even with her death, and her death at your hands personally would directly implicate you in something.”

Aerius tapped his fingers against his desk as he looked out onto Coruscant. Inwardly he let a heavy sigh, but turned around with a smile and open arms. “You’ve convinced me. I will pay half up front and half when you bring a corpse.”

“Agreed.” With that the others got up with amazement and the thought of the wealth coming to them. Aerius watched them stride out his office as he gave them a cheery smile until the last of them exited completely and sat in a huff. That had not gone completely as planned, but Red had no suspect at what lengths he would’ve gone to insure this mattered was attended to, properly. From his perspective, Vympel was hardly a concern. A mere mortal being was nothing compared to the evil that gave him this task. What Crimson knew was something she does not even understand but the dark being told him explicitly what would happen to him, should she ever divine this information to an outside source.

As he relaxed, he saw on his desk a small red light beeping at him. He shuddered as he reached over and activated the signal. A blue figure leapt to life in the middle of the room.

“Lord Syovar!” Aerius said as he leapt from his chair.

The cloaked figure gave no expression as it looked in Aerius’ general direction. “Has it been done?”

Aerius shuddered inside but maintained his voice as he croaked out. “I have sent my finest to see that it will...”

“Then the answer is no.”

“Do not worry, Lord Syovar, it is being dealt with.”

“I am not the one who has to be worried.” The image said and winked out, leaving Aerius standing there with his head bowed down.

---------------------------------------------------

“Do you ever get tired of seeing that?” Kuja asked Derith as they left the lift and walked to the doors of the Council chambers.

Derith walked towards the great doors without as so much as a nod at Kuja. He never associated much of awe or grandeur with the Council, something he wondered if it wasn’t the constant comments that Master Durandal gave him as a student. To see Kuja in such awe of them, Derith wondered, why he never felt it. Durandal certainly never encouraged it, but even without him he only felt respect, but never awe. He shook the thought away as he heard the last part of Kuja’s question. “Pardon?”

“I asked you, when do you believe you will get chosen?” Kuja asked with a smile.

“Do you want my answer or yours?” Derith answered with a smirk.

“What do you mean by that?” Kuja said, crinkling his eyebrows as he stared at Derith for what it looked to be the first time.

“It’s an answer.” Derith responded with a smirk. “So which do you want?”

“An honest one.” Kuja said with confidence.

“Never.”

“Never? You do not see yourself amongst the greatest Jedi of our age?” Kuja said, taken aback by the stark honesty.

“Never, and before you extol a virtue I am unsure of having it is very simple. I have nothing to bring to the Council another does not already have.” Derith said.

“But obviously there are talents that...”

“That Master Marina or Wilson doesn’t have for combat, or perhaps some sage knowledge of the Force that Master Wong or Crown does not already possess, or perhaps a political acumen that Master Dalton or Master Durandal possessed?”

“Master Durandal is no longer amongst the council, so perhaps...”

“Perhaps what? I have no near the oratory or sway that Durandal had, thus believing I could replace his seat on the Council would be foolish.”

“Perhaps.” Kuja said with frown. “But why do you not see yourself an equal of any of them? If even half of your skills are true, you are more then a match for all but...”

“My skills at combat are not what a Jedi should represent. We are not soldier or assassins by any extent. We are keepers of the peace.”

“Perhaps your perspective could break the general status quo of that.”

“Of what? Keepers of the peace? Aggression is a distinctive trait of those who exploit the Dark Side. My talents walk a razor line between revenge and justice. Regardless of how my former master felt, I have no real wish for anyone to learn of what I do.”

“There are many who say that...” Kuja began to say as Derith raised a hand.

“Before you finish the thought that there is one universal Force and the Dark Side is in no one, they simplify something they barely understand. Feelings are essential to us, but being consumed and drawing upon the Force in this state is what the Dark Side does to a Jedi or Sith.”

“So, you’re saying their teachings are misguided?”

“Yes, essentially they are trying to fathom something the Jedi never have. The will of the Force.”

Kuja nodded. “Still this matter does show that you are more a master then many who have the title and could benefit the Council.”

“No in the end, it doesn’t matter. I have yet to become a master, and I remember that being an explicit prerequisite. But I did satisfy your question?”

“Yes, you satisfied my curiosity. In fact you exceeded my expectations.”

Derith just shook his head and walked to the very doorstep of the Council chambers, and looked again at Kuja. “I do not believe you are going to be allowed to come in with me.”

“Oh, I know. I believe it would be better for me to wait here for my audience then down at the entrance.” Kuja said with a smile. As the great door opened, Derith looked back at Kuja’s smile, and shook his head and prepared himself.

-------------------------------------

To Derith now, the Council chamber seemed warmer. The seating comprised of the greatest masters of the Jedi order with Wong in the center, flanked on his right by Dalton, Crown and on his left, Wilson, and Marina. A sixth seat, next to Marina, was unfilled. Derith stood silently as they read his report, as Marina put down her datapad, Master Wong intoned. “In your words, the conference, how was it handled?”

“I believe that was covered in the final analysis of the...”

“Asked for your words, not what you wrote for the records.” Wong said as the other kept their gaze on Derith.

For his part he closed his eyes. “They were pointless, the conclusion of said events were drawn out and executed well before I arrived or was noted.”

“Are you implying that Durandal requested your presence for no reason other then to have your body there?” Master Crown said leaning forward, his red eyes betraying nothing.

“I am unsure how to answer that, but from my assessment of the situation?” Derith said looking directly at Master Crown. “Yes. My presence was useless and affected no one, except from what I had gleaned, a show that Ma...Lord Durandal had sent a personal Jedi envoy. The fact was solidified when Admiral Valdemar’s fleet appeared.”

“Just like that?” Crown asked with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile.

“Not just like...”

“Are you implying that Durandal or perhaps Nitram had all this as some grand ruse?” Marina said. “To what end, Jedi?”

“I cannot say.” Derith said. “As I state again, I gathered a feeling that I was nothing more then a show that Durandal cared for his people...and if I may be so bold a complete waste of my talent and..”

“So you are saying that the Council wasted your precious time, from a mission we recalled because it was bearing no information other then identifying sites of long dead Sith activities?” Marina mocked.

“I will not be...” Derith said through bared teeth.

“Enough!” Wong said. “Truth, there is in Derith’s words. Find out why, we must. Bickering amongst ourselves this we will not solve.”

Derith bowed his head to Marina’s direction. She responded by nodding, and leaned back into her chair. “Very well, Derith, what else made you believe this?”

“Nitram’s own words are what initially made me wonder. The events that came after simply confirmed something. But as I said before I do not know to what end, of either why I was there nor why the treaty was handled.” Derith said. With that Council looked at each other, with Derith taking into account of every facial tick. He brought his eyes to both Master Wong, and Master Dalton who focused theirs upon him.

“Rwarr-rough waah rou?” Master Dalton said.

“Ah, the battle.” Derith said, and with a nod. “My conclusion is that he was a Sith Lord.”

The silence that fell upon the Council was palpable. There was a slight stirring of robes but even Master Wong was stunned by this news. A few glances were exchanged, and whispers were exchanged.

“A Sith Lord?” Master Wilson said, leaning forward. To his right Marina was smoothing a lekku.

“Impossible!” Master Marina snapped, not bothering to gaze as the other members and Derith staring at her. “Impossible, the Sith have laid low for nearly a millennium.”

“Not so, Master Marina,” Crown said as he looked across the way to her. “The last known Sith was a mere forty years ago, to which Master Durna...”

“That being was a mere charlatan. He had more of a charismatic voice then any true power. He was merely calling himself a Sith Lord when the facts show he hardly had the power.”

“Nonetheless, there is precedence. This distinctly follows the thought to the presentation that Derith provided for his research in the outer rim. Even there he outlined that there was some unusual activity from former Sith sites.”

“That proves nothing, except the possibility of some crazed cultists.” Marina snapped. “There have been no confirmation of any true Sith sightings for nearly a millennia.”

“Are you so certain?” Crown said slitting his eyes. “Let us ask why he believed this being was a Sith Lord, since I have never known Derith ever exaggerate. And what would you consider a true Sith?”

Before Marina could retort, Master Wilson raised a single hand. “I, too want to hear why Derith considers this being a Sith Lord. I find it very hard to believe that we would not have felt such power coming into being.”

The other masters nodded in agreement, shifting in their chairs. “Deception, a way of the Sith. Threatened all things are, if the Sith are involved.” Master Wong said. “Explain.”

Derith nodded. “A couple factors, but most profoundly was his ability in the Force as well as his fighting style.”

“Fighting style?” Master Wilson said.

“Yes, his style matched nothing that a Jedi would know, and was an interesting mixture of perhaps, Juyo and Shien. I found it worked well with the brutality but was inefficient in certain areas. Bolstered by this were his extraordinary capabilities in the Force. He was capable of doing feats that some masters would have found difficult to accomplish, especially in the heat of combat.”

“So he could have been a fallen Jedi and similarly trained as you?”

“Doubtful, while it was an interesting mixture, it had other properties that were not a part of any Jedi thought and as well as no particular focus with the Jedi order. Even these supposed Dark Jedi move and react as Jedi as per their original training. His reactions were nothing of the sort.”

“So how was his different?”

“I have heard from Master Durandal that a Sith has a different training regimen and techniques, and he certainly reflected that. Most startling is how he connected himself with the Force. Instead of a fallen Jedi usage by focusing on anger, he simply entered the darkness and let it envelope him. There was no specific focus.”

Wilson nodded. “Would you say it is similar to the technique that Master Durandal and you use?”

“I suppose, but I prefer to refer it to a state of opening myself to the Force, rather then letting myself be consumed by the dark side. To also end the line of questioning of whether this deluded cultist or not, deluded cultists do not have lightsabers from dead Jedi Masters.”

“Rowrr?” Master Dalton said as all eyes suddenly glared at Derith.

“The saber that this being wielded was none other then Master S’tev’e’s, which I doubt was given by anything less then said master’s death.”

“How did we not...no that’s impossible, the Council would have felt his passing!” Wilson exclaimed.

“Perhaps, but there are techniques within the Force that are known to effectively hide the Force, such an application could be applied to insure that the master’s passing was mere breeze in the hurricane of the universe.” Crown explained.

“Such a being would be immensely powerful. We would have known of such a coming of anyone with that much power, especially for something so distinctly focused.” Wilson countered. “Anything else Derith?”

“He made a boast of slaying a numerous amount of Jedi, including Master Phongn. With his skill I would incline he could have done so.”

“And is this thing, dead?” Master Marina said through gritted teeth.

“No.”

“Why not?” Wilson asked, concern crossing his face.

“I had intervened since at the time it appeared that he was there to murder myself and my associates and thought his primary purpose was to kill the Hapan lord. He failed in that mission and when he realized this he devise an escape that gave the thought as being slain. In fact in light of what I came back to, I would venture he was there for an entirely different reason.”

“And that would be?” Wilson said.

“I have suspicions but as of right now, completely unfounded. I do not wish to burden the Council with my musings until I have confirmed evidence.”

“Very well, when you have finished your investigations, we want a full report.” Master Crown said.

With that Derith nodded and began to turn as Master Wong said. “One detail, there is.”

“Yes, Master Wong?” Derith said as he turned around with a confused expression on his face.

“In order congratulations are. A Master you will become after this moment.”

“Pardon?” Derith said. “But I haven’t...I don’t even have a Padawan nor have any made any notice of asking me for consideration on the matter!”

“Your time of absence, one has asked. Debate we did and conclusion we came to, simple. Deserving you are.”

“If I do not feel I am worthy?” Derith said.

“Do you have any reason beyond what any of us felt that first time?” Marina asked.

“Then may I at least know whom I am to train?”

“Of course, Master Derith.” Master Crown said as he pointed towards the door. The doors swished open behind him, and he heard each soft footfall. Through the Force he knew the Jedi before he turned to face him.

“Master Derith Rider, I am Kuja Skywalker.” Kuja said with a broad smile. Derith did not return the smile.

-----------------------------------------

Deep within the bowels of Coruscant an unmarked building was used as a medical facility for a very special patient. Around a single table that above held the single source of light in the entire building, two medical droids had finally completed their gruesome task. Behind them a swish of a door opened and a single cloaked figure walked into the darkness. One of the droids turned to face the figure. “The construction is finished.”

The cloaked figure flowed into the light as the table began to rise to an upright position. It gazed at the body on the table and admired their handiwork. “Leave us.”

The two droids silently whirred away, as the figure on the table feeling his master in the darkness, lowered himself from the upright platform and bowed low at his master’s feet.

“Lord Fearghul.” The figure intoned.

“I have failed you my master. I was unable to kill the Jedi.” Fearghul said as he opened his mechanical eyes. He could now see in a whole different spectrum of choices but he could not feel them in the Force. It was as if they were not truly there to him. Even next to his master, where he could feel the Force stronger then ever, he could truly feel his eyes.

“Your failure was disobeying me; Derith was merely the tool of choice. I trust the lesson was learned?”

Fearghul nodded as he stared at the floor.

“Rise, my apprentice. I have another task for you.” The figure said as it joined with the darkness again.

Fearghul rose in a single motion and followed two steps behind his master. Inside his heart he felt a need and as that thought passed through his mind, he heard a low chuckle from his master. “Do not trouble yourself so, he will enter your world again, and if you do not follow my teachings exactly, you will die on your knees.”

“Yes, my master.”

“Now to the task I require of you, I wish you to insure Korriban reveals only what is needed to be known. Our greatest secret must remain such, but the facilities must be discovered.”

“Master?”

“The revelation of your appearance will not go unheeded by the Jedi Council, coupled with the findings in the Outer Rim. The Jedi are not so foolish to not to investigate. They must merely be given enough to sate their appetites.” The figure said. “Derith’s investigations were more through then I cared for, a minor oversight but one that must be corrected.”

“They believe I am dead.” Fearghul said confidently. “And what could he possibly have found that would show of any real note?”

“Fool! I personally trained Derith. He would never believe such a ploy, especially in regards with the assassination of the Bothan. And his discoveries were extensive. Dracoj was a fool to believe he had successfully hidden everything.”

Fearghul merely nodded and held his breath at his master’s fury. “Master, who is handling the former Vigo?”

“I have given the task to Syovar.” The figure said. “It was his affair to start and thus if he and Aerius fail, the blame is fully upon them, and in no relation to anything greater.”

Fearghul gave a low chuckle as the exited the building and he looked up the hundreds of stories that comprised of the skyline of Lower Coruscant. Down amongst the dregs of the planet it always appeared to be perpetual night. Only the artificial light of the multiple broken down signs gave any real illumination. He always enjoyed the few times he came here, and enjoyed this side of Coruscant more then the façade of the upper city. As he gazed upward, he savored the thought of what was coming. The war and the eventual destruction of the Jedi Order were but mere facets in his master’s plan, which was not for mere governmental change but a complete restructuring of the society of the galaxy.

Fearghul still remember of the last attempt at this was a mere ten years after the Vong war. A battle that showed distinctly how poor the Galactic Federation was in maintaining order, even under the guise of the New Republic. A single Jedi struck out on his own after suffering from the war, and gathered all that was spurned by both the Vong and Republic and molded them into an army. This Jedi then named himself Darth Carnas as he began to attract more and more dissidents. His army was small at first but much like the Vong the Federation argued vehemently at what to do, as he swept through the galaxy like wildfire. In the end, no one knew how it ended, except Luke Skywalker was its last causality.

His master though told him that the war did not end there, and Carnas’ apprentice planned for the ultimate resurrection of the Sith dream. He planned and set in motion to what was bearing fruit in this day. Fearghul shifted impatiently as these thoughts of the glory to come filled him. The Jedi would fall and he would be there to see their final end.

“Syovar will likely fail given his past incompetence on this affair.” Fearghul said. “I should be placed in charge of such an important task, instead of merely acting as watchdog of Korriban.”

“You will attend to any task I give you, boy. Your brother is capable enough to handle delegation of this aspect.”

“And if he fails?”

“I have made plans even for that, but failure will carry a high price if he does so. As for your role, you will do as I command; Korriban is the other part of the failure of Syovar.”

Fearghul nodded and his eyes seem to glint with anticipation even through their artificial balls. “I will attend to any Jedi they send.”

“Indeed. But do not immediately kill them, when you have captured them.”

Fearghul merely raised an eyebrow at his master’s request.

“I want to know the true extent before they are exterminated. If they know nothing and this is a mere investigation, then their deaths will serve as a warning. If they know something deeper, the Jedi will send more and we will have to abandon Korriban for the moment."

"But will..."

"Do not question my orders, boy. As for your other concern, I have already set in motion for my greatest student’s downfall. I will have my greatest student by my side, or you will have your desire to cut him down, in the end I will triumph.”

“Yes, my master, in the end we will triumph."

[Zaia]

Shit, I lost the bet.





Edit: And I'm not even in this giant chapter! Sonuvabeech!

[Kuja]

Kuja Skywalker....didn't see that one coming. This should prove interesting.

[Lindar]

*claps laughing, and ponders which of the characters to drag off this time...*

Well, now i wanna know what it is that Crim knows that would cause trouble, AND More Zaia and a LOT more Zaia n Der lol.

Poor Zaia... *grins and waits to see what happens*

[Crazedwraith]

Very nice and the bounty hunters didn't seem so untolerably ludicrous this time around.

[Zaia]

Kuja Skywalker....didn't see that one coming. This should prove interesting.

What's that? It's Zaia Skywalker too?! I'VE BEEN DATING MY BROTHER?!

Please don't do that, GR, or I shall have to hurt you.

[Crown]

I kick so much ass in this chapter! (well you know what I mean).

And Marina a Twi'lek, somehow that fits.

Good job Denis,

[Ghost Rider]

Oh gods no...no Zaia Skywalker...I'm twisted but nowhere that level of depravity

2-6
In his home Derith watched as Coruscant fell into night. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself, focus upon the city.

His breathing quieted, and his eyes fluttered shut. As the dim glow of its only sun was eclipsed by thousands unnatural lights that once again made any space voyager first look at this planet and wonder if it ever slept. Inside he paid the view little attention as he let the world fade away, and let the Force take him.

Extending his presence he touched hundreds of beings as he let the Force guide him casually through the cityscape. He sailed through their surface most thoughts with ease, grabbing snippets of emotions, thoughts and musings as he let his mind wander. He saw how few truly slept or perhaps he should remind himself, slept peacefully. He quickly let his mind return to a singular focal point and looked at himself again, nothing had changed.

To him that was just an exercise to keep his mind of the newest dilemma, something he had figured the Council would never be deranged enough to try; grant him a Padawan. He still tried to mouth the thought into words and it failed him every time. It was an inconceivably bad maneuver in his mind. He was a single agent; his missions were singular, most of what he built, both financially and technologically, was geared towards himself alone.

No, he wouldn’t gripe about it. It would produce nothing and would drag him into a myopic babbling, so he instead focused on the matter at hand. First the boy would need equipment. The size and body weight of the boy would be an easy search on the Jedi files as well as anything he would have to prepare for. A standard robe and equipment belt should suffice for...no, he already had tomorrow planned, the boy would need a full set up at one of the safe houses.

Tapping out Kuja’s dimensions from the archives, he wondered how the boy was able to make the Council chose him. It would’ve taken someone on high with pressure to allow a Padawan to choose a master or Kuja just lost a master. And it had to be a combination of the two, since he knew he had hardly advocated to the Council for any thought on a Padawan. Just more questions and no answers that was forthcoming.

He made a study of the events, given to him by his new access. Perhaps he could assemble it by tonight, since he had given the boy orders to meet him at Bester’s that morning. He pressed a single button as he looked over the boy’s record and noted some of the details. It was a vast record of awards and citations for diplomatic meetings and even a couple negotiations, as a Padawan...most impressive. He tapped up the last record which involved Rodian pirates. He chuckled inside, when he reviewed the event, reading the record.

He remembered that assignment. CorSec was having immense difficulties with a particular pirate by the name of Servcanus, a proud Rodian who maintained that he followed some code of not killing the helpless of innocent. The problem or his solution was he maintained he could arbitrarily pick who was helpless or innocent or when they got to close to an airlock. He had a small but impressive flotilla of corvettes and armed freighters and his flagship, the Rapacious was a modified frigate, nothing that threatened anything major but even the largest corporation will not send a destroyer or dreadnaught to guard every shipment.

He continue to read how both Kuja and Master Phongn had to make various platitudes with the pirates that both CorSec and the Alliance were not out for their blood, but merely restitution on the various acts. Of course, he noted after his personal purging of the entire frigate, the survivors were quite happy with whatever the two parties would allow them. He had to wonder would Kuja understand what truly was entailed in his actions, the razor thin line he faced. And now one, if not his only lifeline was gone....no...he would let go. The mission still existed, and a new one was here.

What confused him was that Master Phongn was not a particular adept Jedi master of any fighting style. He kept to the Niman style and adhere to it for the rest of his days; Kuja, though as the record read was mastering Shien. That would mean the boy had sought out instruction on a style that was very aggressive. But one thought passed through his mind as he kept reading. For one, he saw why the boy was able to choose and request a Master, since his last was murdered, but that wasn’t revealed until today, and only to the Council. The amount of leverage to convince that a Padawan needed a new master, and allow him to be able to choose such without confirmation was unprecedented. Master Phongn was killed recently and all unbeknownst to all but a very few, by a Sith lord. He thought about revealing this bit of knowledge to Kuja...perhaps later when the he had time to gauge the boy. But the largest question still loomed...why? A loud beating against his door pierced all his musings.

“Alright, I know you’re in there, just open up and stop being grouchy, brooding, me ughem no hear you Jedi!” The voice yelled.

Derith didn’t even peer at the scanner; he just shook his head and sauntered over to the door.

“What is it I’Brat?” He said as the door glided open, with her hand mere centimeters from slamming against the metal again. She couldn’t believe the smell of the environs that were assaulting her. Trying to comprehend why anyone would live here was bad enough, realizing she came here willingly was worse. She shoved the smell away, and tried not to imagine the sources.

I’Brat barely gave a disparaging glance in the direction of the voice. “Oh good, you’re here.”

“And no, the guns are not going to kill you....yet.” Derith noted that she peered upwards. She waved off his voice, by the Force why couldn’t he even try to have an emotion other then dull. Zaia kept saying he displayed a full range, maybe it was just love.

“Whatever...can I...?” She said as she shook her head. She tried to move forward only to slam into Derith. Derith just perked an eyebrow as she dusted herself off. “Fine, whatever, let’s go somewhere else then?”

Derith tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because you’re not half bad, and I have to wonder what Zaia saw underneath all that.” I’Brat said with a saucy smile.

Derith kept his mouth a ruled line.

“Not going for that one...right...um, because I’ve...look I’ve run out of...” I’Brat was saying chewing her lip as Derith simply put a hand up to her lips.

Calling his cloak to him, Derith just said, “Let’s just leave it at that.”

I’Brat smiled slyly as they walked to the garage. “You’re not nearly as dense as Connor said you were.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

For what seemed to be an eternity, Valdemar stared outside the view port, gazing at where a few blinks had sparked into the universe. Surreptitiously Korr watched his superior, wondering when the inevitable would break and come. With a nary an ear he listened to the battle reports, and the losses that were mounting.

The destruction of twenty vessels was nothing. The thought that this would accelerate plans to possible war with them being squarely involved was not.

Valdemar straightened even further and turned around. Korr tensed, waiting, preparing. “Come with me, Captain.” The Chiss said quietly, striding away from the view port and down the bridge command walkway.

“Yes, sir,” Korr murmured, falling in perfect lock step of his commander, with a shadow creeping behind the both of them. He had heard old discipline tactics of ancient days and wondered if he would see a display of such.

The bridge grew disturbingly quiet and sullen as Valdemar lead the way to the aft command pit and stood above them. He motioned to a few crew to come up to him. The three he pointed to simply nodded and climbed out, pale and sweating.

“Your name.” Valdemar said, with an excruciating calm to the most forward of the three.

“Revanar Kendill, sir!” the boy said with as much courage as he could summon.

“And you were in charge of communications array specifically between ships.” Valdemar stated flatly.

“Yes, sir...but what happened was not my fault.”

Valdemar’s eyebrows arched. “Explain.”

Kendill began to motion his head to the side, and then stopped mid motion. “When the operation began we first received an unusual burst transmission from Captain Shadar’s flagship...and--”

“Unusual how?” Valdemar cut in. “Since standard operating procedure to all fleet maneuvers, especially combat, would come directly from me.”

“I am sorry to inform you sir, while true; I was not trained for those conditions.” Kendill said just the barest hint of defiance. “I had no way of gathering that signal was illegal or was the transmission source, and on the surface...”

“Until it was too late and the confirmation was given.”

Kendill held his gaze. “Yes, sir.”

For a moment Valdemar studied him, smiled. “Your immediate commander is?”

Kendill’s eyes shifted to the right, to the smaller portly man. “Ensign Zeran, sir.”

With slow deliberation Valdemar turned to face the smaller man. “You are in charge of this man?”

Zeran visibly swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“His training and every aspect thereof was your responsibility?”

“Yes, sir.” Zeran repeated.

“And in any of his training was he prepared for the scenario that played before him?”

“I....I....I cannot say for certain, sir.” The ensign admitted. “The standard package does have emergency protocols.”

Valdemar stared at the boy again and then back at Zeran. “Was he a personal recruit?”

“I had reviewed his record from his time at the academy.”

“Indeed, and did you follow the standards they set there?”

“Of course sir! Each of my subordinates is equal in my eyes.”

“I see.” He considered the moment, and then raised his hand.

Korr saw a shadow of movement, but when he eyes adjusted themselves he saw that the figure was behind Kendill. “Was you intent to betray me?” Valdemar said nonchalantly.

The entire bridge went deathly silent and stared as the seconds ticked. “Sir?” Kendill croaked.

“If so, then you did so very poorly and that I must correct.” He raised an eyebrow.

And then nodded.

Korr never saw any movement and just as sudden heard a wet thump hit the floor.

Inside the crew pit a few members barely controlled their stomachs. Valdemar glanced over Korr’s shoulders and motioned to men armored in black. The silence was defined by the clacking of their heels as they came over to the scene. “Dispose of it.” Valdemar said as he then looked directly at Kendill. “You performed exactly as you were trained.”

“Sir?”

Valdemar held the man’s gaze for a few heartbeats, and then turned to Korr who looked at him with a tilt. “I want a complete report on the source and the orders of that signal.”

“Of course...” Korr began to say as a lieutenant walked up and handed him a pad. Valdemar waited as Korr reviewed the material. “It appears the signal was authentic.”

“Of course it was, but it was not given by my code was it?”

“No, it wasn’t...how did you?”

“I was relaying orders to Lambda group when the transmission was sent out. There were only two explanations.” Valdemar said mildly. “And you were with me.”

“But how could, he?”

“I suspected for a while this one was something of some impressionable Force talents.” Valdemar explained. “Somewhere he was given an order that directly contradicted the orders we were given and if he succeeded; he would’ve put this operation and our plans in jeopardy.”

“But what do we do now?”

“We abandon the forces to their fate and request additional for our source. I suspect there was something within those ranks that allowed this mistake to happen, it cannot and will not happen again. I have shown that I have made contingencies even for Sith acolytes.” Valdemar said coldly. “As I said, we are at war, and I intend for the Renamant to reclaim what is rightfully ours.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Menari?”

In the lounge area of the exclusive restaurant, Connor just stared a bit before realizing he had a drink in front of him.

“Why Connor?” Zaia said with a broad grin as she came back with two drinks.

“Why what?” Connor said as he gingerly sniffed the drink.

“Oh, this is about I’Brat.” Zaia answered coyly.

“It has nothing to do with him at all!” I’Brat said waving a finger at Derith. For a second she looked as the stains on the glass, and shrugged, gulping the contents in a single blow.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be so....quick with....” Derith said as I’Brat looked at the barkeep and pointed at her empty shot glass. “Okay, so something about Connor, what exactly?”

“You know I have to actually be with that arrogant snot for the next who knows on a mission no less!” I’Brat said.

“And this bad?” Zaia said, with Connor waving on his third drink.

“Because she’s...she!” Connor said as he swayed a bit.

“She’s she?” Zaia asked with a smile. “Connor, you both follow each other in ways that amazes me. Do you know she goes to every one of your lectures and reads each of your analysis?”

“Of course....who wouldn’t?” Connor said as he slugged his drink in a single gulp.

“That’s not the point, I’Brat. It’s the fa...” Derith said.

“Ibie”

“Pardon?”

“We’re drinking...you don’t have to go I’Brat this, I’Brat thatis. I’m not Connor; I can let my hair down.” I’Brat said she smiled with a bit of sway in her head.

“Connie, then.” Zaia said as she just took the bottle from the waiter’s hands.

“And oh yeah...I’Brat....I have to welll...we have an assignment together!”

“So I ask again, how is this bad?” Zaia asked.

“Becausssse he’s a snothead!” I’Brat said with a grin. “And we’re going to Korriban? Korribanssss a bad bad bad bad world.”

“I know....” Derith said as she shook her head making her hair flail. “But why is it bad with him, he can obviously...”

“Because he acts....” I’Brat slurred.

“...like she’s quueeeeeeeeeen of the universe!” Connor yelled as Zaia noticed other patrons looking at them. She shook her head as she nodded at Connor with a grimace on her face, and trying not to keep to close to his breath.

“She does?”

“Of course she doesit, no wait...yes...no, yes, no, wait...yes!” Connor said looking at his glass, and then getting very close to Zaia. “Haven’t you seen how she dresses?”

“Yes I have, but what does that have to do with...” Zaia whispered as she reeled back from the breath.

“It has everything to do with everything, can’t you see?” Connor said shook his head. “I’m just stating the honest truth that she’s...”

“...a jerk, a handsome jerk....and he ignores me, me! Ummmm oh yeah, and he’s an..im...dumb!” Ibie said nodding with her hair bouncing. “And I have to babysit his attractive butt on Korriban!”

“Why? He’s capable of handling himself, adequately.” Derith said pouring another drink, and handing her his shot glass.

“Have you ever been to Korriban?” She said wrinkling her lips.

“Yes.”

“Very ugly and smelly place...his....”

“...whole ‘I must be pretty!’ will fail in three seconds there!” Connor said.

“She’s been to Korriban, Connor.”

“And it’...right...ummm...well it’ll be different, and she’s not understanding the thingie correctly.”

“Thingie?”

Connor nodded to something that couldn’t be seen or heard. “Y’know the thingie!”

“Right.” Zaia said, just nodding. “You do know you could look after each other, bolster each other’s strength, and be there for any weaknesses?”

“Pfft, I have no weaknesses.”

“Of course not.” Zaia said with a smile as she got up. “Now I think you’ve had more then enough and...”

“So what’s with you and Derith?”

“What about me and Zaia?” Derith said coldly.

I’Brat waved it off, not caring. “Y’know with what last time and last time.”

Derith nodded, pouring her another glass. “It’s over, what can I do?”

“Youse can fights and ummm...”

“Fight?” Zaia said. “He already before he left made his position clear. I was not wanted, I was a distraction. And now I believe you’ve had too much.”

“Right...you twos are sooooooo blin...” With that Connor slammed his head against the table.

Derith just shook his head as I’Brat happily snored in the table and he picked her up and carried her off.

Morning pierced all illusions that night brought before. It was at heart a cleansing, washing away all the truth and lies of the night before. Across the planet, lovers awoke with in each others arms and travelers left before they realized what they had done with whom. People milled about to the regular lives realizing that one cannot take away the night before, but they can keep it hidden. In one particular apartment, the night still continued.

I’Brat was visibly shaking now. She had no idea how long or what time it was but she didn’t care, she didn’t want it to stop. Her breathing became ragged sharp pitches and whines mixed with grunts and cooes.
She licked the sweat coming from his ear and before he muttered a word fiercely grabbed him and continued her gyrations.

In the small peeks of sunlight outlined her perfect body, her nipples stood erect and glistened. She ran her fingers through his hair; and passionately slammed his head into her breasts. He could feel the heat of breath and the beating of her heart as she continued to moan and her body warmed.

“Yes, Connor YES!” I’Brat said as her voice went ragged and lunged down with a fierce kiss and opened her eyes.

“Not quite.” Replied the voice.

“WHAT, WHO, AHH, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” I’Brat screamed as she leapt of the couch naked, trying to cover her body. The figure got up and smoothed his tousled hair. “Derith? What the, how, where?”

“I’m glad your facilities of speech are better then last night, though screaming out Connor’s name for the last five hours, while you were on top of me, and then at the height of the last hour you demonstrated possibly the most creative use of the Force and well had a lot more fun with or without me. I don’t believe I’ll forget his name.” Derith said he smoothed his tunic out.

“Oh we didn’t...wait a minute we didn’t. You still have everything on, what did you...”

“Nothing, after taking you back here so you could sleep it off, you pinned me on top of the couch quite nicely, and for a while just slept. Then about two hours ago, after what I hope was a nice dream for you, began rubbing, licking and slamming my head into your breasts multiple time, I had little to no real sleep.”

I’Brat looked at her state of undress, and gingerly walked to where Derith sat. For his part he turned his head as he gave her the garments that littered the floor and heard her rush to the fresher and turn on the shower. “So nothing happened?”

“You mean aside from a very interesting and private tour of every mole you have?” Derith said, preparing a couple of boxes of clothing and supplies. “No, nothing.” He ducked as sonic brush hurtled towards him.

She rubbed her hair dry and smoothed her tunic and looked a bit away at Derith. “Look, if we could...”

“Sure.” Derith said as he handed her the packages. She peered inside and smiled at him.

“You didn’t have to, I can take care of myself and I think Connor can as well.”

“Please, his idea of camping is taking a suitcase.” Derith said as he opened the door. “As for tonight, I don’t see why the tale would be so bad...I just laid there.”

“I don’t think the Order wants to know you’re a better lover then most of them, even laying there.” I’Brat said with a wink.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re late.” Derith said as he finished the last of his coffee.

“I was finishing up my morning sparring practice.” Kuja said with a grin as he eased into his chair. He took a quick look at Bester’s café and still wondered what someone of Derith’s stature saw in such a dive.

“The coffee is good and cheap.” Derith finished. “And a sparring session?”

“With a few fellow Padawans, Elheru is talented but I’m sure under your tutelage I will improve even over the standard knight.”

“Right...sparring?”

“I really don’t see the problem.” Kuja asked with a smile as he looked at the menu. “Are you telling me that you never spar?”

“Sometimes, I just never consider a friendly spar a way to truly gauge or test one’s abilities.” Derith said with his eyes still reading a datapad, as he nodded absently for a refill.

“Why not?”

“You never improve unless you push yourself to a point where death has meaning. If you fight fellow Jedi that will never be anything except the most remote of chances.” Derith said studying Kuja’s face.

“Perhaps.”

Derith kept staring. “You believe that’s an answer?”

Kuja sighed. “Of course it is.”

Derith continued staring.

Kuja breathe in deeply and mentally focused himself. Derith just smiled and shook his head. “Why are you going into all the effort of trying to mentally fuel yourself for confrontation?”

Kuja slumped his shoulders and with a grimace. “Fine my answer is this. I do it because, because....I enjoy the thrill of the conflict.”

“Fits your style, good answer.”

“You knew that...how?”

“I study.” Derith simply smiled. “So are you ready?”

Kuja arched his brow. “Now?”

“Yes, now...which is why I said you were late.” With that he threw a few credits onto the table and headed towards the door. Kuja devoured a biscuit and drank the hot coffee as fast as he could, catching up with his new master. Derith for his part was quickly weaving through the streets with a clear objective. Kuja came quickly as he could easily dodging people with grace and ease.

“Where are we going?” Kuja said over the din. Derith made no response and continued to march forward and turn swiftly into an alleyway. It was a sea of people and his new master was easily blending with the other grays and browns of the crowd. He thought he saw his master again, and went over...

And froze. A few meters away he spied a pack of humanoids, but all wearing cloaks to hide something, except their chosen weapon. A slick and malleable stick that each carried, an amphistaff. Deadly weapons to normal people, even a poor Jedi, but to Kuja he scoffed and was more interest what would a warrior pack of those dregs were doing here. After their loss and the subsequent near destruction by Darth Carnas, they all but fled the galaxy. To see a group of the supposed warrior caste, in the galactic core was both astounding a bit interesting. These days they relegated themselves to a level of money grubbing soldiers and bounty hunters. Kuja approached the group, and then the air erupted in a scream of fire and metal.

Any thought of wondering where his master was fled his mind as he let the Force take over. He turned to see where the flames were erupting and noticed people were leaving him alone. Without a care of what the Vong warriors were planning or why, he raced with inhuman speed down the alley. Fire control droids were stifling the flames of the small shop that was destroyed. Whatever stood there should by all account been demolished, but the frame and in fact much of the structure was intact.

Kuja instinctively evaluated the situation, noting that this was not a fire but an explosion. Everyone had already fled the scene so he couldn’t just ask, but he figured he could do what he could. He looked around and saw a crumpled body in the ground near what looked to be the remains of a desk. He gingerly walked across the ashen floor, and noticed a single glint. Crouching he stopped as he heard a shuffle and smiled.

“Sunk so low you need to scavenge for mostly destroyed garbage?” Kuja said as he got up and stared at the four Vong in front of him.

The leader smiled and each of the others began to flank Kuja as their amphistaves hardened into a solid stick. Kuja for his part cracked his neck left to right and felt the Force fill him. To his left he heard a whisper as the owner thrusted the weapon at Kuja’s chest.

He flowed into the air and the snap hiss of his blue lightsaber came alive as he joined the ground again. He gave a single twirl as the other three began to close in. He could in the Force see each of them, regardless of the supposed legend that they were outside the Force. He chuckled to himself of such absurdity, might as well say you were outside of life. His train of thought was broken as two other roared to him. The first threw a sloppy high maneuver, which Kuja dodged when he saw it as an obvious feint for the chest shot.

“Bad form.” Kuja said as his blade lanced out and was greeted by the third.

“Arrogant boy, we have slain Jedi before!” The Vong growled. “You will be nothing but a sacrifice to our new dawn!”

“I doubt that.” Kuja said twirled his blade out of the lock and into the chest of the Vong behind him.

The leader backed for a second, before nodding to his subordinates who then concentrated their efforts with more ferocity and vigor. To Kuja he blocked and parried their blows with no effort as he hummed to himself. The two Vong were trying a variety of feints and blows but they had neither the speed nor the sight a Jedi had. Kuja effortlessly changed his stance as one became more aggressive and had the two nearly hit each other. The flashes of the parries illuminated the entire alley way, as Kuja simply kept the defensive as long as it amused him. The only thing that mystified Kuja was the leader was just standing there smiling. As he dodged the last blow he felt that the game came to an end. He swung his blade in a wide arc

Suddenly an alarm in his mind blared. Turning his head he caught the barest end of a staff biting head. Another staff shot for his legs as he simply leapt aside and caught a kick in mid air. He let the Force relive the pain there and focused his sense on the battle. That wasn’t from the original warrior group he thought, in fact he extended his sense and felt more. He rolled onto his feet and thrusted his blade into the closest Vong’s heart, and as he regained his footing, he looked at scene displayed before him. Surrounding the head of the group was at least fifteen warriors, all armed with amphistaves and guns. The leader did was emitted a guttural laugh. Kuja took couple steps back and adjusted himself in defensive stance, realizing the only exit was the group in front of him.

“So boy...do you believe one Jedi will defeat twenty of us?”

“Two Jedi.” Derith said as his green blade ignited inside the chest of the leader.

[Zaia]

I’Brat smiled slyly as they walked to the garage. “You’re not nearly as dense as Connor said you were.”

Hah. No comment.

[Lindar]

*claps giggling, and drags the two little Jedi off n locks them up, having changed mind, smiles* Well, well, well...

EXCELLENT! Ibie n Connie sittin in a treeeeee!*grin*

[Kuja]

One: Drunk people are funny.

Two: I am finally living my dream of kicking Vong ass.


Do continue, sir Rider. I am enjoying greatly.

[Crazedwraith]

very nice. Two conversation happening at once always confusses me though...

[Ghost Rider]

2-7

Ha, yeah well

The other Vong turned and looked as the saw as their leader gutted. The attacker for his part simply lowered and disarmed his blade and let the body slump with nothing but a shrug of his shoulders. Each Vong looked in horror as the attacker made no challenge; no announcement; he just stood there and sighed. Each of them took a moment to get over the horror and tightened their grip on their staffs, and turned in perfect lockstep to face their new opponent. Even the ones that were facing Kuja ignored him as he regained his footing and held his blade in a high posture. Making a wide circle they waited for their prey to make a move, any notion that he knew what was about to happen.

Kuja looked about and noted the alleyway was hardly large enough to truly accompany any real battle, certainly not for this scale. The other Vong were already hustled in, and there was simply no room to maneuver. He looked to his master for anything and saw only a look of bland disdain cross his face as he raised his head, counting his opponents. Kuja tried to reach out to communicate only to reach a wall, they needed a plan to get out of this alive, let alone in one piece. Then the Vong roared, and any plan was thrown simply out. Teeth gritted in concentration, lips unmoved, Kuja surged forward to defend his master. As the Force began to flow through him, he felt an accompaniment of nausea and bile surging into his mouth.

Kuja felt the Force being devoured by some vortex he looked at his master through the eyes of the Force and saw an all consuming emptiness; it was unlike anything he had seen. It both frighten and awed him to even conceive of such a technique, but what happened next, solidified Kuja’s thought that he had chosen correctly for furthering his training.

For Derith everything moved as if through thick sludge. He looked up just as each Vong amphistaff came towards him and somewhere in the distance he could see Kuja move to his defense, not even realizing it would be too late. His blade had simply come into existence as the amphistaves bore down and with smooth sweep he deflected and sliced each of them in turn. With the ones that became malleable and snapped at him, they touched nothing but air. He simply wasn’t there, and his blade flashed into existence again finding its mark again and again. It seared through armor, destroying flesh and bone, no Vong had enough time to scream as the blade let heads become separated from their bodies. The stank of sizzling blood and flesh choked the air as more and more bodies slumped, yet none of the remaining Vong ran or yielded they charged forward again.

Kuja stood stunned as he recalled tales of the speed of a true master, of how they could make their attacks look closer to several beings. Stories spun how they were able to fend of easily ten to twenty attackers with parries and two sabers. This paled to what he saw before him, even with his Force enhanced senses, Derith’s blade was not single beam of energy but a wall of green luminescence.

As Kuja cleared his head and was about to rush into the thick and it was over. He stood gripping the pommel of his blade, dumbfounded. The play was over and Derith stood in the exact spot he stood before looking demurely at the bodies around him. Approaching Derith, he felt the Force surge back into him. He looked and saw that his master had somehow regained a glow he had often seen in other Jedi, but it was dimmer and subdued compared to many others.

“I’d like not to register as a giant target for others to think it’s time to take me down a peg.” He stated as he took out a small device from his belt.

“I didn’t mean any...” Kuja said fidgeting.

“I know, I’m joking,” Derith said as he smiled.

Kuja arched his eyebrows.

“Not good?” Derith smiled.

“A suggestion,” Kuja offered as Derith walked to a Vong body. “Your humor can use a bit of help.”

“She said that a lot as well,” Derith whispered to himself, thinking back to those days and just as quickly letting them evaporate. He turned to face Kuja, who was looking at the damage done. “So what do you believe happened here?”

“The Vong destroyed this establishment and we caught in the act of shuffling through their act.” Kuja said shrugging his shoulders.

“You believe that?” Derith smirked.

“I shouldn’t?” Kuja countered.

“For a second, think Kuja,” Derith said as his arms panned the area. “Would you investigate a blast site?”

Kuja looked around and away from his master.

“Either way,” Derith said and handed Kuja a small square like device. “Scan the area. I have doubts everything went up in smoke, especially given the paranoia of this shopkeeper.”

“So you do agree the Vong did this?” Kuja asked proudly.

“No, but I want to know why they were here,” Derith said. “And our wonderful new friend should be able to tell me.”

“Some Force meld with their spirits?” Kuja asked as he began scanning the area.

“Kuja?”

“Yes, Master?”

“Where did you get that insane idea?” Derith said with an eyebrow arched as he pointed down. “This one is alive.”

“Right, exactly, I meant exactly that and not what I just said.” Kuja said as reddened slightly.

Derith noted the shredded and torn armor and the bleeding this one sustained. Not his finest work, but he had to insure this one had some opening to use and simply crushing one’s bones usually only incited howls, not information. He placed a small disc on the creature’s head and shrugged as he commanded the Force to raise the Vong to his feet, so he could look the being in the eye. Durandal often told him, he shouldn’t feel it was an access to anger or such thoughts, interrogation was asking questions, nothing more. Still he just could never get over the brutality of the situation; either way such thought were pointless since he there were greater matters here then just this Vong and his inner peace at stake.

“Master...I thi” Kuja was saying but for the moment Derith was in another world and he looked as the Vong woke up.

The first thing Nakora awoke to was his captor’s face; the same being that unceremoniously gutted his leader with a twisted blow to the back. This coward had not even the honor to announce his presence and fight like a true warrior. The insane being simply stood there and smiled as he casually looked at him. Such cowards, how was his species brought low by such dogs. His eyes bored into his captor’s brown eyes with searing contempt. As his emotions took hold he let loose a volley of saliva from his mouth, which was splattered against an invisible field. Damnable Jedi and their abilities wouldn’t even grant him one last strike against them.

“Jedi.” The Vong uttered.

“Good, you can talk,” Derith said as he raised his gloved right hand next to the Vong’s face. “You see this?”

“Your hand?” The Vong said looking Derith, back at the hand, and then back at Derith again.

“Yes.”

“I see you idea of interrogation is to bore me to death.” Nakora said with a smile.

“Hardly Nakora,” Derith said, his hand still extended. Nakora’s smile melted when he heard his name. “Here the circumstances you are under. You answer all my questions, and I will either keep my hand open or slowly close it. If I keep it open, nothing happens. If I begin to close...well you begin screaming.”

“You don’t have the steel for such an act. Jedi are mere tricksters, not true warriors.” Nakora said with a tight grin. And then suddenly he felt a constriction against his throat, classic Jedi to cut off air...and then he felt his wounds opening slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly as he could feel each and every fiber tear, feeling each piece of flesh move, every muscle cry a little. All over his body he kept feeling this, and all he could see was the Jedi flex his fingers ever so slightly. “You will tear nothing from my tongue!” Nakora screamed.

“That? Oh that is just a demonstration,” Derith said smiling. “The real questioning begins, now. Who hired you?”

“The gods,” Nakora smiled with his teeth broadly, and was about to laugh when he realized he could get no voice out, he kept trying any noise and realization dawned in his eyes.

“Wrong answer and now lesson one,” Derith said in a flat tone. He flexed his fingers slightly, with Nakora wincing but no scream came from his mouth. The Vong continued to smile in defiance, with the Jedi simply smiling.

“Your type is weak and pathetic, believing I would betray my master over mere words.”

“Who hired you?”

Eyes glinted as Nakora continued to smile. Derith shook his head, smiling sardonically. “You want me to believe that you and your brethren just came here for amusement?”

“Believe what you will, Jedi. I care not, but you...” Nakora said then just as he continued was silenced by something. A dozen retorts flowed from his mouth onto his lips until he opened them. Upon opening his mouth, no voice uttered from him. His mind came upon a dawning realization that this was not what he expected of a Jedi. This one was not seeking to peacefully debate his views.

“Lesson two.” Derith said. His mouth contorted in a variety of ways as he felt suddenly his muscles contracting and forcing his blood out of his veins and trickle slowly down his arms and legs.

“The sensation you are feeling is simple.” Derith said smiling with a shadow clouding his eyes. “I am now slowly letting the blood leave your body. You will feel weak and I have heard the pain is excruciating. So I ask again...who hired you?”

Nakora gritted his teeth as the blood welled in his eyes, then he began to feel a new sensation, bile. It began crawling up his throat, slowly, like a hundred little burning legs up his throat. He opened his mouth to spit, but he couldn’t his muscles wouldn’t obey, and he could still feel the bile slithering. The Jedi before him smiled as the sensation continued. It crawled through his mouth and soon coated his nostrils, but then just as it crawled, it held there. Nakora then understood, the Jedi held it there, and the burning was nothing compared to his wounds, by the gods he couldn’t even relieve himself of the liquid. Nakora winced and nudged his head toward his belt. Derith simply smiled as he pat the Vong’s cheek. “Now that wasn’t so hard? Now why are you here?”

Nakora just rolled his eyes away, with Derith shrugging his shoulders and clenching his fingers moreso. Suddenly the bile left his mouth, but then he felt his teeth or more importantly he felt everything in his body on edge.

“Oh that? That is every nerve on fire. Now that is pain, and with a single twist I can literally make me you scream louder then you ever have done before in your life.” Derith said flatly. “Or you can tell me why you were here.”

Teeth chattered as literally he felt every breeze magnified a thousand fold, every smell for a hundred meters, and hearing that made the beating of his heart a the sound of the blasting of a starship engine. His eyes watered as he realized his body wasn’t his, and his mind was just clay. And worst of it all, the Jedi stood there smiling, breaking him.

“I do not know.”

“That’s not the answer I want.” Derith said as he shrugged.

“No!, Please, by the gods NO!” Nakora begged. “I do not know, I just, I don’t, I do not know. I only did as I was ordered.”

“And that order was?”

“To come here and kill someone, our leader was not specific. Please that’s all I know!”

Derith smiled a cold smile. “I believe you. In fact I believe you have outlived all usefulness.” Sweat began to bead as Derith smile grew, and then suddenly he clenched his fist into a ball; Nakora never registered a final thought and slumped to the ground. Derith just sighed as he leaned down and took a small disc from the Vong’s head. Kuja looked at the body and Derith. “...ink you should come and take a look at this.”

“In a second, Kuja,” Derith said with a heavy sigh.

“Master, what were you doing?”

“A small trick I picked from the old man. He would literally enter the mind and just let it run rampant with certain suggestions. Then the mind responded in the worst fashion, usually it takes less time then what it took with the Vong there, brutal technique.” Derith replied as he looked at the burnt out structure before them, and walked into it.

“But I thought you never cared to use your powers in any such fashion?”

“No, I said I wasn’t skilled in it,” Derith said as he methodically began searching. “So I implement other devices to enhance such as it is.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of training?”

“How so?” Derith said with a half turn as he bent down sweeping away some dust. “I never expect that I will be able to master every aspect of our powers.”

“I thought we trained to better ourselves, to eventually shed the needs of the physical.”

“Kuja, understand that I am not nearly as interested as other Jedi for some form of communion with the Force.” Derith said sifting at specific spot. “So what did you investigations find?”

Another discussion for another time, either way the present was what he asked for and he was a Padawan still. “Two things,” Kuja said as pointed down where Derith was kneeling. “One of them is the thing that that survived where you’re kneeling.”

“And the other?” Derith said as he continued to sweep away the debris.

“A small trap door, which composition was similar to starship level durasteel.”

“Interesting, any occupants?” Derith asked as Kuja handed him the scanner. He nodded as he looked over to where Kuja was pointing. He knew Kernel had a safehouse of some sort built just in case a few of his clients found out what he truly did with their information. This was something he never expected. Especially since it looked that the Vong were not a back up but another group entirely. This smacked of something entirely larger, and he hoped some clue as to why.

“Seemed to be one, but said person left before the battle,” Kuja said as he began to see what Derith uncovered. It looked to be a small box, nothing distinct about it. “So what were you looking for?”

“Actually this,” Derith said as he examined the data card. There were nearly invisible notches on it, which he recognized as the information he came here in the first place. “This place belonged to a slicer I did business with. He wasn’t unique, but he was helping me with a recent investigation. It seems it was a lot hotter then I thought.”

“A piece of contraband perhaps?” Kuja offered.

“Perhaps,” Derith said. “So now Kuja to your first lesson, who do you believe did this? Why? What was their objective, and how did they do just this?”

“Master with so little data, I could only speculate.” Kuja said with a smile. A smile Derith did not return but simply stood before him, arms crossed.

“Speculate then.”

“Fine, the one piece I can offer without speculation is who. Not the Vong.” Kuja said as he made a wave through the rubble. “Whomever did this was assured the explosive they used was more then enough to finish the job and they weren’t far off as everything except that data card and the small enclosure that had some unknown person was all that survived. That and the Vong were simply in the wrong position for this type of attack.”

“Good, and?”

“The why? I have no idea. I cannot begin to speculate beyond perhaps Kernel had found some data he should not have.”

“A good speculation, and likely closer then you believe.” Derith complimented. “Continue.”

“What else? I outlined what I knew.” Kuja answered.

“Hmmm, there will be time for that. You said explosive but never thought of which, bomb, rocket, and laser, even perhaps orbital?” Derith said.

“Explosive of some sort, but I have too little knowledge to even begin to say what type.”

“You did fine.”

“May I inquire what are you exactly investigating?” Kuja said. “Since this whole morning started I’ve...”

Derith cut him off. “The recent Hapan doings, I am investigating some points that perked my interest and since I doubt I can simply return to Isolder74, I decided to see what I could find here.”

“Excellent, I am sure Master Durandal would love to hear your results up to this point.” Kuja beamed.

“Why? None of this has anything to do with him except in the most circumspect of manners.” Derith said as he brushed off some dust and began to stalk off. Kuja stood in the ruins of the building staring as Derith melted into the crowd. With a heavy sigh he followed his master into throng.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ibie?”

The voice was soft, yet insistent. Amidst this morning’s interesting byplay she hesitantly turned to face the voice. A familiar figure stood there smiling at her. “Hello, Zaia.”

“Are you okay?” Zaia said with concern in her features “You look a little peaked.”

“Oh yeah, I’m look about yesterday...”

Zaia smiled and shook her head. “Ibie, we disagreed, it’s nothing we are destroying what we have over for.”

“Exactly, I was just, exactly.” I’Brat said with a wan smile.

“So are you okay for your mission?” Zaia said as they began walking down to the docking hanger.

I’Brat looked up and around her and acted as if this was her first time in the Jedi temple, she was calm.

If asked she wouldn’t know what to say about last night. All she truly remembered was ranting to Derith, Derith of all people, about Connor. That irked her moreso, why would Connor occupy her thoughts in any fashion. Here she was, admired by many, lusted by likely just as many and her thoughts were focused upon one archivist?

Angry? No she was not angry, just infuriated with herself. She kept telling herself that this was just some passing fascination with some dim...no he wasn’t dim, foolish, yes, foolish. He was just a Jedi Knight that was so full of his own ego and stroking.

“Last night was so strange hearing Connor warble about you.” Zaia said.

“Connor asked about me?” I’Brat said.

“Yes, he did...he had some choice words.” Zaia said with a smile.

“Yeah, well...whatever.”

“And now to think you are going to be alone with him, in a cramped ship, getting all dirty with all that grime and repair you have to do to keep that thing space worthy.” Zaia said, grinning broadly.

“Right, and hearing his whining, moaning and snipping about the lack of cleanliness of said vehicle. I’ll bring you back a recording of his choicest complaints.” I’Brat retorted.

“No romance.”

“I have plenty of romance in me; just none of it involves Connor.”

“Right, you are just fascinated with him.” Zaia said with a wave of her hand.

“And what does that mean?”

“Ibie let’s stop and really look at the facts, and just leave it at that.”

“Whatever, and anyways...last night was...well we’ll just say rough. Though you never told me Derith lives in such a nice place.” I’Brat said with Zaia stopping and looking at her for the first time. “What?”

“Why were you at his place?” Zaia said with a frown.

“Before you even think about going there, don’t. I think I have higher...” I’Brat replied, without turning around.

“Higher what?” Zaia said, narrowing her eyes.

“Nothing, but rest assured I just went there because I wanted a drinking partner, nothing else.”

“Good.” Zaia stated

“For someone who’s supposed to be broken up with a guy, you have a lot of concerns for him.” I’Brat snorted.

“I just don’t want him to get hurt.” Zaia said looking at the ground.

“I’m going to hurt him?” I’Brat said with her hand over her heart. “What can I do?”

“Your record of...” Zaia began to say when I’Brat shot up a hand.

“Oh no, we are not going there. Those were one shot nights, and every single one either knew that or was just being ignorant. Besides I will say for the matter of record, Derith is a perfect gentleman.”

“What did you do?” Zaia asked as confusion panned across her face.

“I wanted to blow off some steam about being partnered with Connor on a mission, one that he has no idea what he’s getting into,” I’Brat said. “And we went back to his place...or he hauled my drunken butt back to his place.”

“And then?” Zaia pressed.

“Then....ummm...nothing!” I’Brat said as she flushed a bit. “Really...nothing.”

“Nothing?” Zaia said suspicion laced in her eyes.

“You’re right, he ravished me throughout the night while I screamed out that he was the greatest thing the Force had ever given this universe,” I’Brat said with a sardonic smile. “This is Derith, remember?”

“Alright.” Zaia conceded.

“Though why Connor...just because he’s Master Crown’s favorite,” I’Brat said with a sigh.

“You don’t trust the Council’s wisdom on his abilities?” Zaia said, giving her full attention to her friend.

“Have you ever been to Korriban?” I’Brat said, losing all sense of humor in her voice.

“I’ve heard tales.” Zaia said with her arms crossed.

“Neither you or Connor have ever been there. The place itself is oppressive to the Force itself.”

“Ibie...” Zaia said with a warm smile.

“No, don’t you dare Ibie me,” I’Brat said curtly. “You know what I lost there.”

For a long moment they both stood in silence. Zaia studied her best friend closely realizing that was the time when all things changed for her. Master Wilson had sent her and five other Jedi Knights for an investigation of a possible Sith cult. The mission was a complete disaster, killing all including her fiancée at the time. I’Brat never went into the whys, but Zaia sensed the change and wondered.

Then as she trailed on that thought, I’Brat gave her a sharp look, as if sensing the flow of Zaia’s thoughts and giving a clear signal; that was an area not to be treaded upon. “We’re talking about Connor.” She said.

“Right,” Zaia said quickly. “Okay, so what are you going to do?”

“Give him what little help I can and hope his jest about the Sith he faced was real.” I’Brat shrugged. Zaia nudged her head a bit. I’Brat just smiled.

“You’ll do fine.” Zaia said and with that hugged her friend tightly. “Now, that’s a usual shampoo for you.”

I’Brat just raised an eyebrow as Zaia shook her head and smiled as she walked off. Her thoughts were now how to best approach this weakness that likely her partner would have, perhaps...

“Well, is the little miner ready to do some real work?” Connor said with a broad toothy grin.

“You are a piece of work, y’know that?” I’Brat retorted. All thoughts of concern practically fled her mind, except one. Giving him the package so he could be useful rather then sitting there like some space slug. She violently shoved the package in front of him as she stormed towards her ship.

“Wha, oh hey one of Derith’s care packages.” Connor said as he hurried towards I’Brat.

She stopped and half turned as he broke the seal. “How did you...?”

“Oh easy, he gives me these things every mission I go through on some world.” Connor said as he put the case on the ground. “Little things like a scanner made to fit with the cuffs, a appropriate set of clothes and whoa, I didn’t expect this much.”

“What? What did he include?” I’Brat asked she walked up to him.

“A few things,” Connor said as he rummaged through. “A mini torch, a batch of shaped explosives, and couple Bacta injectors along with some other things, and he also gave me, and probably you an outfit for the more moody styles of wanna be Sith.”

“Actually that is all very useful,” I’Brat said with a half smile.

Connor just shrugged as he closed the lid. “So you were about to say something before my arrival?”

Shrugging her shoulders she looked away for a moment, and nodded to no one. “Have you had any experience with a Sith or anything like Korriban?”

“It may surprise you, but yes I have.” Connor replied with no mirth in his voice. He rose in a single motion and headed towards the docks.

I’Brat gave a small smile as she caught up with him. “Really, you sure it wasn’t some juiced up cultist?”

Connor chuckled as they continued down the path. “Maybe, but I have felt the wave of oppression that first taste of the dark side gives you. It’s a sense of bile rushing into your lungs and your blood being chilled at the same time. Well, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Oh by all the hairs of...”

“Such little faith,” Connor said with a smile. “Yes, I have to answer your question and it still didn’t scare me half as much as the Padawan that slew him.”

“And that would be?” I’Brat chided.

“Derith.”

“That early?” I’Brat smirked. She shook her head and looked into Connor eyes and saw that there was no deception, no mocking. “How?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re on the wonderfully long journey to Korriban,” Connor stated as they entered a large docking bay with several ships being serviced. Though calling it much beyond a hole in the ground was giving the place a great service. Connor looked around and the only thing any distinction was the fact that there was a flurry of activity. He continued to frown as I’Brat walked up to technician and exchanged a few words. “So which one of these clunkers is yours?”

She ignored his comment as she handed the small Gungan a single credit stick. “Follow me, lunkhead.”

She increased her pace into the further depths of the hanger and what greeted Connor could only be what he considered a great heap. A dismal mish mash of part that he somewhat identified. The body was a freighter of some sort with a circular design, and the cockpit or what appeared to be as such occupying the center. The hull itself was decently constructed but definitely more for utility then any true design. On the top and bottom of the vehicle were what appeared to be some guns, but what amazed him the most was this thing was even considered space worthy.

“Don’t even,” I’Brat said as she came down the docking ramp. “I made her myself, now if you’ll kindly come aboard we can get to Korriban quicker.”

“Yes, mistress,” Connor said with a broad grin as he walked up the ramp.

“Nothing is worth this.” I’Brat said rolling her eyes as she walked up the ramp.

[Zaia]

2-7

Ha, yeah well

One down, eleven to go. And nice work.

[Lindar]

HURRAH!*grins laughing* I don't know who i'm more worried about Connor or IB

[Ghost Rider]

2-8

The sludge was a bluish black, oily, thick, and stank worse then anything Kuja had ever smelled in his life. Within one of the twilight areas of Coruscant, they trudged through the silt fluid, or Kuja hoped it was fluid. The flow of the substance was ankle to nearly knee high and had an unusual quality about it and the sloshing noise that accompanied every footstep was nauseating.

For the first time in a very long time, Kuja was very happy to be wearing boots with his clothes.

The tunnel the pair walked through was enormous, and had little in the way of any external lighting, in fact for the next six hundred meters Kuja noted there were no working glowsticks above them. He at least could see perfectly because of a pair of some odd contacts his new master had given him before entering, but they still felt weird. Derith snorted lightly as if he could hear his thoughts.

Something ahead of them chattered and scuttled quickly to them and disappeared into the waters.

“Do you actually know where we are going?” Kuja said as he gingerly sidestepped something.

“Yes,” Derith said flatly. “And don’t disturb the dianoga at your feet.”

Kuja quickly moved his head to and fro looking for anything as he felt it slither around his legs. “Uh, Master?”

“Don’t worry; it’s likely more afraid of you then you are of it.” Derith said.

“Right, let’s just say my experience with them is less then friendly or mundane.”

“Have you spent a lot of time in places like this?” Derith said, looking over his shoulder at Kuja, who had his eyes on the muck.

“No, no, of course not,” Kuja said waving his hand dismissively. “I was on a mission to Veloran, one of Mon Calamari’s primary agricultural, with Master Phongn. The meeting went perfectly well, and we were able to persuade the Bothans to stop their blockade and afterwards we were enjoying a state sponsored dinner.”

“Did serve dianoga?” Derith said as he turned down another corridor. Kuja for his part could barely remember where they started, let alone where they were going, realized what his master said and shook his head with a smile.

“I do not believe that foul thing is a delicacy anywhere,” Kuja said with a smile. “So after the dinner, Senator Kazuaki’s daughter wanted to show me the Silver Light Gardens.”

“Beautiful place, I remember seeing it once as a Padawan.”

“Truly?” Kuja said. “When was this?”

“Another time, please continue.”

“Of course, and when his daughter showed her prize pet, the blasted thing lashed out with a tentacle and took me down into the water. I, fortunately for the beast had my lightsaber short out. Unfortunately, since I believed it was attacking me, lashed with a rather hard blow of telekinesis, which killed it. Master Phongn and I had to spend a number of days apologizing. Not a particularly bright spot on my record.” Kuja said, letting go a deep sigh.

“You reacted accordingly.” Derith shrugged.

“Not exactly, I could’ve just lightly shoved it off or a whole litany of other actions. Instead I took the most aggressive stance and thought its intent was to kill me, hardly becoming of a negotiator.” Kuja said shaking his head. “But enough of my musings, you said you saw Silver Light Gardens?”

“Indeed,” Derith said. “It would have been my fourth year as a Padawan. Master Durandal had assigned me my second mission, alone. Nothing particular hard since Alliance Intelligence had already tracked down this particular criminal to Veloran, and they sent me as a replacement for the agent who had gotten himself killed on an earlier mission. In the end, he took down about a quarter of the gardens before I killed him. I do admit the place had a certain charm before becoming a charnel house. I am glad to hear they were able to repair the damage.”

Kuja stood there in silence as he stared at Derith. For his part Derith simply continued walking and looked back once, motioning for Kuja to move forward.

------------------------------------------------------------

There was no dreaming in the Jedi hibernation trance. No dreaming, no consciousness, nearly no sense of awareness of the outside world. To any observer it was akin to a coma, except for one simple difference: despite the absence of true awareness, a Jedi’s sense of time sense managed to function flawlessly. Connor never understood it but it was something he used to his greatest advantage when he could.

It was this very same time sense, along with a swift slap from I’Brat, was Connor’s first hint that something was not right.

“All right, all right, I’m awake!” Connor reassured his companion as he regained conscious awareness. Blinking the gummy feeling out of his eyes, he gave the cabin a quick scan. The reading in front of him confirmed what he had come to the conclusion with his time awareness. The ship had come out of Hyperspace nearly thirty light years short of Korriban. He didn’t understand that at all, why I’Brat would do this unless...

“Uh, mind telling me what is happening?” He said groggily.

I’Brat shot him a glance of disgust as she quickly turned his head. “Do you see those ships?”

“Oh this is...”

“Very bad,” I’Brat said as she adjusted a few more controls. “The proximity indicator registered two ships practically on top of us. A third is very far off into the distance, but it’s not good in any case.”

Still blinking Connor looked up and his eyes widen in horror.

Adrenaline flooded into him, sharpening every one of his senses. Directly in front of them was what looked to be a freighter of some sort, with a blazing overload in its engine area which was only slightly visible through crumpled and half vaporized panels. Beyond them, loomed a gigantic wedged shaped object.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Connor said as he looked down at the scanners.

“It is Connor,” I’Brat said nervously. “A Mark III Star Destroyer, and from the signal we’re getting from it, a Renamant ship.”

“Renamant?” Connor said turning to look at I’Brat. “That’s impossible!”

“Tell that to the ship out there.”

Connor breathed in deeply reminding himself that anger, aggression, and especially fear lead down the dark path. With a considerable effort he forced down his fear. He noted and obviously he knew I’Brat noted that the freighter was between them and the Star Destroyer; concentrating on their larger prey, the Renamant might have not even notice their arrival, though remembering one of Derith’s tales he came up with a far worse conclusion. “So when do you believe you can get us out of here, Ibie?”

“I’m trying, Connor.” I’Brat said as she leaped into her chair and keyed in a few controls and swung the Serendipity around hard. The ship whined in protest with the turn...

“Unidentified Freighter,” a cold voice boomed into the speaker. “This is the Star Destroyer Oppression. Transmit your identification codes and state the nature of your business.”

I’Brat sighed. “So much for not being noticed.”

In the distance she saw what ripped them from Hyperspace: the third ship was some type of Interdictor Cruiser, one of the favorite tools to keep opponents from jumping to light speed. To her they obviously were lying in wait for the freighter; it was just their bad luck that they had run across the mass shadow abilities of the Interdictor, and were summarily kicked out of Hyperspace with the same craft.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Connor said as if picking up on her thoughts.

“Connor, let’s not get jumpy,” I’Brat said calming her breathing. “Now give me a full scan of the freighter.”

Connor nodded as he punched a few buttons and as the mechanism did their job he opened himself to the Force. Closing his eyes to fully concentrate, he reached out and began to delve into the craft. He tried to determine was it Alliance, neutral, pirate, or something else. He felt nothing; either the crew had already abandoned ship or had been captured. Either way there was nothing they could do for them.

“Nothing?” I’Brat inquired as he felt the world constricted to this craft, shaking his head in answer to the question. “Okay, give me the coordinates of the farthest edge of the gravity well.”

Connor nodded as he worked the controls, as I’Brat threw the ship into a stomach churning downward drop that even the acceleration compensators couldn’t handle too well. She believed if she could keep the freighter between them and the Star Destroyer they could stay out of range of the tractor beam and escape.

“Unidentified freighter.” The voice was beginning to get angry. “I repeat, transmit your identification codes and state the nature of your business.”

“Damn it and I don’t have any fake ID codes of any sort.” I’Brat muttered to herself. “Connor, what’s the position of the distance of the cone?”

“Pretty bad,” Connor answered. He pressed a few buttons which gave a small holographic display between the two of them, with them being in the center and at the far edge were two shapes she knew to be the other craft. “This is how it stands now,” flipping a switch the entire hologram moved with her craft moving and then the destroyer catching up with them. “And that is when they decide to out accelerate us.”

“That bad, huh?” I’Brat murmured. “Well, let’s just hope your calculations are off. Hang on!”

“Unidentified freighter...” with the rest being drowned by the roar of the engines, as I’Brat kicked the ship to full power.

“Shouldn’t we put the shields up...at least?” Connor asked nervously.

“No, I want the shields down,” I’Brat said quickly. “We are going to need the extra speed.” For her the thought that the Star Destroyer might vaporize them just to give them a message didn’t concern her too much, since shields or no, there was nothing on this ship able to resist that level of firepower beyond the smallest of the point defense guns on a ship of that class.

“Looks like they aren’t too interested in vaporizing us, but they are not going to let us just get away.” Connor said as he read the rear scope. In it he could see the Star Destroyer closing and trying to maneuver around the freighter. He threw another look at the proximity indicator. He noted they were easily within range of the tractor beam, and at their current relative speeds would remain so for the next couple minutes. He thought of a number of ways to possibly to give some way to distract or blind them.

“Ibie, do you have any torpedoes on board?” Connor said.

“What?”

“Torpedoes, you know...”

“I know,” I’Brat cut him off. “And yes, I have a couple. Why?”

“Good, I am going to perform a small trick that might buy us some more time.” Connor said as he leapt out of his chair and ran back to the torpedo bay.

“Wha, Connor get back here!” I’Brat roared.

Connor ran down the corridor ignoring I’Brat’s yell, and retrieved a tool kit. He flipped open a control panel and was about to punch in a sequence, when he realized he had no idea of the codes on the ship. Upon opening a channel to the bridge he heard I’Brat roar. “What are you planning to do?”

“Okay, it’s very simple. I am going to make a dead fire torpedo. Could you transmit the codes, because this takes a bit of time?” Connor said calmly. He heard the door unlatch, and the torpedo roll back to his position.

“Explain.”

“Okay, if we fire a torpedo at the freighter right now, it’ll just get hit by jamming from that destroyer. Now if we fire a dumb fire one, having it turn on a delta –v with no sensors or homing codes, the guys aboard that destroyer will have to work that much harder.”

“Okay, I understand, the timing is going to be extremely tricky, you understand?”

“I think I can handle it.”

“Good, let’s make it out this one alive, Connor.” With that Connor began to rewire the guidance systems.

Inside the cockpit, I’Brat returned her attention to the rear scope, and gave the Serendipity a slight course adjustment. She rolled the idea in her mind, and smiled. Connor was right, with its guidance sensors in their normal state, the torpedo would be subject to innumerable jamming signals; going out cold as he was proposing would limit the response time and the reaction time to simply firing wildly. The downside was obvious though, one degree off and it flies off into the abyss.

A small red signal flashed on her control panel, to which indicated Connor was all set, and with a slight lurch, the torpedo was away. And a second later, the freighter behind them blossomed into a cloud of particles.

I’Brat looked down at the proximity indicator, mentally crossing her fingers. Almost out of range now. She noticed Connor entering with a smile on his face. She knew if the debris from the freighter could screen the tractor beam of their presence for few more seconds, they should easily be able to make it.

The ship warbled a strange warning. I’Brat and Connor both glanced at the long range scope and both could feel their stomachs go cold as they looked at each other. A tactic that most navies used and one I’Brat cursed herself for thinking they wouldn’t do. With the freighter no longer of any interest, the Interdictor simply was changing positions. It was swinging around trying to bring its gravity field projectors more fully to bear on them. I’Brat watched as the field began to encompass them again.

“Hang on, Connor!” She said as she abruptly swung the freighter in massive right angle maneuver, blasting laterally to their original course. Once again the compensators didn’t quite negate the entire effect as Connor grabbed the sides of his chair, which made a slight grunt towards her. “I know what I am doing, okay?”

Off to the starboard now, the Star Destroyer was belatedly trying to maneuver and shifted its massive bulk, pivoting to track I’Brat’s maneuver. Connor watched them try and suddenly he noticed flashes of light lancing at them.

Upon seeing the flashes I’Brat pressed a few buttons. She realized speed alone was not going to save them, and if only point defense...well the shields should hold up.

“Uh...Ibie?”

“Not a word, Connor!” She yelled as the ship began to slow down, but so far the gamble was working. Caught completely off balance by the right angle maneuver, the Interdictor was rotating in the wrong direction, its gravity beam sweeping across I’Brat’s previous course instead of the current. Its commander was trying to compensate, but the sheer inertia was against him. I’Brat smiled as she knew all she had to do was stay out of the way of the Star Destroyer range for a couple of seconds and they could make the jump to Hyperspace. “Okay, stand by for light speed,” She smiled at Connor.

“But you didn’t...”

“It’s only for a short jump, then we can reorient oursel...” She was saying as then they were nearly thrown out of the chairs.

The Star Destroyer’s tractor beam had them.

“Okay, what was that?” Connor said rubbing his head. I’Brat had no time to console Connor or tell him of the situation as she frantically realized what had happened. They were on a straight line course that had suddenly become an arc, a weird orbit with the Star Destroyer playing the planet’s role at the moment. Unlike any true orbit, though, this was not stable and as soon as another beam lanced out, this would degenerate into a tight spiral. A spiral that ended up in a hanger bay.

“We could try for a shield drop and speed altercation?”

“Pointless, it would ravage the system and give us a partial break. Any decent controller would lock on us in a second.”

“So any suggestions?”

“One idea, but strap yourself tightly in.” I’Brat said. “This is going to hurt.”

“What is?” Connor said as he buckled himself tightly into.

“I’m going to reverse trigger all the acceleration compensators, full power, and bypassing every cutoff if I have to.”

Connor just stared, and then slumped back into his chair.

“Oh of such little faith,” She said as she noted her scopes. Her curving arc brought her into a perfect edge of the Interdictor’s gravity wells.

With an immense scream of electronics, the ship came to a screeching halt. Neither of them had the time to wonder what made the noise, before they were thrown immensely hard into their chairs. Her thumb rested on the firing switch, flicked the cover and slammed onto the button; simultaneously she pulled the craft into a hard upward angle. The Star Destroyer’s tractor beam tracked her along her path, had momentarily got lost by her sudden maneuver. She was hoping know they would lock onto a new target, or more specifically the torpedoes.

And suddenly the pair of torpedoes was gone, leaving only light trails as they were snatched from their course. Her gamble succeeded, with the destroyer pulling the wrong target completely.

“Yes!” I’Brat cheered, and threw full power into the engines again.

Suddenly the ship below them realized their mistake and further recognized it was too late to reestablish another lock, they decided to go for the straight kill. All the batteries erupted in a violent display of energy, and I’Brat suddenly found herself in the middle of a storm of laser fire. She forced herself to relax and let the Force guide her through the storm, as bolts continue to harass her.

Connor looked at the scope and saw they were completely free of the mass shadow. “Go!”

And within a second, the sky erupted into star lines.

They made it.

[Kuja]

WOOHOO! Rock on, that was awesome!

And the bit between Kuja and Derith was great too, I can just imagine the look on Kuja's face at the end of that.

[Zaia]

Hehehehe...I love the Kuja & Derith stuff, but I REALLY love the IB & Connor stuff.

[Crazedwraith]

Very Nice. Was that trick Ibbie pulled like the one that crippled Luke's X-Wing in Heir to the Empire?