Star Wars Character Cafe - The Legend of Black Saber Chapter 6

THE LEGEND OF BLACK SABER

CHAPTER VI

After slightly more than week of travel Drakhsah was before them, a shimmering globe. The glittery expanse projected a harshness that could not be matched, and this did nothing to sooth Cloudia, who had mainly kept to herself over the last several days.

She had been absolutely haunted. Memories, thoughts of destiny, and the usual battalion of nightmares assailed her. Torin had tried to talk to her. He’d been very concerned, sort of reminding the young woman of Erik, but even though she’d felt a smile growing inside of her at the thought, the _expression died before it had even reached her face. She couldn’t talk to him; she couldn’t talk with anyone, and so she merely bore the weight of her torment alone.

And now they had finally reached their destination. She could feel Xcelcior below, waiting, beckoning her to him once more, and at that moment she wasn’t sure how much she would be able to fight him.

"Where do I take her down at?" Marten asked Cloudia from the pilot’s seat.

She tilted her bowed head and looked at Gryg, though she still kept her arms folded across her chest. "The night side," Cloudia said, realizing the fact. "His lair’s in the southern quadrant near the Western Edge of a set of burial mounds."

Marten nodded, and without haste he piloted the Death’s Sneer to the orb’s far side.

The young woman had expected some contact from the Zepleen before they began their descent into the planet’s dark atmosphere. Yet none came, even though Cloudia was sure that the natives knew they were arriving. Perhaps Xcelcior was getting impatient and was tired of waiting for them. Cloudia herself was tired of waiting. Despite her growing doubts and confusion, she just wanted this nasty business over with.

The planet’s darkness did nothing to ease the heavy disquiet, which lingered about the quartet, and no one dared to speak as Marten finished the landing procedure. Silence remained even as they exited the Death’s Sneer.

The moment Cloudia’s feet touched the ground she couldn’t help but gaze skyward, taking in the sight of the stars and planet’s solitary moon, the latter being blanketed by a thick, cloudy vapor.

It seemed as though she was a sorceress of some ancient culture trying to read their fate in the night sky, perhaps in a way she felt that the distant pinpricks of light were like a map to be read, but she shook her head gravely. It was a ridiculous thought, an archaic one that maybe the Zepleen believed in, but even if it was possible, the young woman gave a wistful sigh. If the stars could be read, if astrology could be counted upon, she knew she had no talent in it.

The others had also departed the vessel, and Drudwyn was the first to speak. "Where is the Dark Jedi hiding?"

The half-Churyen’s eyes were drawn from the sky to the speaker’s face. The Jedi Knight’s features were emblazoned with determination; his resolve seemed so hot as if he, at least, thought that this was a winnable battle. Cloudia shuddered, both chilled by the cool, nighttime breeze and scorched by the fire in Drudwyn’s eyes.

The young woman took a stabilizing breath and looked around, the nearest of the mounds were illumined by a beam of light from the Death’s Sneer. Only a few meters before them lie the entrance to Xcelcior’s domain. Upon seeing the mound she froze and became locked within the memories of her previous excursion here, but she remained so for only a moment. Then she looked to her comrades.

"Follow me," she whispered, her eyes gravitated toward the mound before she even dared to approach it.

But then she was off, the others quickly behind her as she fought down her immerging tremors. The mechanical door opened silently for them, a normal occurrence, which felt completely sinister. It seemed that Xcelcior was opening the door himself, to bid them welcome. If that were true then passing over the threshold would be their last act of free will.

Cloudia didn’t enter at first. The stench of death was rising to greet them, but was it really a smell, or just something prophetic, concerning what might transpire below? The young woman looked behind her to see if anyone else was aware.

By look on Torin’s face it seemed that he was; his Master on the other hand might have been, but if so, Drudwyn was not allowing his senses to be assaulted. Marten seemed altogether oblivious.

The Jedi Knight gave the half-Churyen a stern look, the only thing that might have urged her on without being a physical push, and soon the four were in a straight line on the stairs. The mechanical door shut after a moment, and they were locked inside the plunging corridor.

Cloudia resolved not to worry. Whatever was to come would come, and she could do nothing to change it. So she pressed on, the others continuing to trail her, emotions swirling about them. The daughter of the former Jedi Master could feel ill ease, yet also readiness from Torin, and Drudwyn’s assuredness was far from faltering.

After a disturbingly long trek the steps ended, Xcelcior’s throne room now at hand, and the quartet passed inside, not knowing what to expect as the stone slab rose, grinding as it covered the exit. The only person in sight seemed to be T’zarn’s bounty hunter.

The armor-clad woman stood in a shadowy corner next to a silvery, granite font, her back stiff and erect, and she made no move to approach the intruders. She merely watched them, her eyes uncharacteristically full of pity.

All gazed back at the bounty hunter silently.

Cloudia wondered where Xcelcior was, what he might be plotting and why only this woman was there to greet them, when she suddenly allowed her gaze to travel to the floor. Stuck to the stone, as if his flesh had melted into it, was the Dark Jedi. His empty eye sockets glared back, forcing the young woman to gasp. The noise called her companions to look toward the remains. Was he dead? It was too much to hope for.

Then a common noise mutilated that silent expectation. The far wall was giving, the stone sliding outward slowly before swiveling to reveal the throne and the thing, which sat upon it. Cloudia couldn’t suppress a fearful gasp as she gazed upon the familiar horror of the enthroned creature.

This was Xcelcior as she seen him in her pregnancy dream. He was skinless, charred and bloody, a demon, and he glared at her with burnt eyes, which reflected the damning ecstasy he clearly felt. Somehow he seemed even more powerful than before.

Suddenly the Dark Jedi looked at Gryg. "You have something to give me, don’t you?" Marten turned his eyes to the enthroned beast and grimaced, not giving up the expression as he nodded with resignation. "Then bring it to me."

Gryg still looked rather upset, but he approached Xcelcior and reached into one of the pockets of his flesh-vest, he extracted the Mersighdonian holy talisman. Then after stroking the amethyst amulet with utter greed and desire, he bowed his head and placed the object into the blistered, demonic hand.

The Dark Jedi seemed to smile. "You have done well, Marten, and I will see that you are rewarded now that you have returned to me."

Returned? Cloudia thought. No, this can’t be happening again, but despite her denials she knew that Gryg was indeed Xcelcior’s servant.

"Stand with Tasha," the Dark Jedi ordered Gryg, pointing a scorched, crimson arm in the bounty hunter’s direction. "I will have need of both of you shortly."

Marten still had his head bowed and he gave a slight nod before obeying.

The enthroned creature surveyed the three Force-sensitives, seeming to smile at them.

"I’m sure none of you thought that Marten was mine, especially since I closed his mind off to all except myself, but I would have thought that at least one of you would have become suspicious and tried to get rid of him. After all, who could forget his aptitude for madness, violence, and fury? And why do you think he went to work for Urius Valenteen in the first place? He went at my bidding. In the beginning I wouldn’t have thought so, but he has proved himself a worthy servant… Ancient bonds of service can easily be surpassed by loyalty."

Xcelcior fixed his charred eyes on Cloudia, and suddenly the young woman’s mind filled with a vision of Rensor, dying in much the same fashion as her father had eighteen years before. The half-Churyen knew that the Mersighdonian had died for trying to kill her, because the Dark Jedi hadn’t wanted her dead, not then at least.

As this realization jolted through Cloudia’s mind, Xcelcior took his omnipotent glare from her. He was now looking at the holy talisman, which he was holding between his burnt thumb and index finger. He seemed transfixed, and his charred veins throbbed with anticipation as though he was preparing for something.

"An interesting object to say the least," the Dark Jedi mused as he twisted the talisman about. "But it has no real power. Mersighdonians have intelligence, but they can be led astray so easily." He smiled and paused before inhaling a great amount of air into his bloody, heaving lung sacks, and suddenly the smile vanished, replaced by a look of severe determination.

He drew the amethyst gem into his palm and then began to clench his fist around it. His eyes, though damaged and lidless, appeared to close and he tilted his head back, allowing the full velocity of the Dark Side to course through him.

Xcelcior looked like he was in a state of fierce, reverse transcendence. His raw body lapsed into a series of convulsions, the energy pulsated through him, giving him ecstasy, and within a few seconds it was over.

His eyes seemed to open again. He splayed his fingers, and a glittery wave of purple dust trickled to the floor. He smiled at Cloudia and the Jedi.

The expression was enough to finally spark some action. Anger flared within Drudwyn, and the Jedi Knight brought out his weapon, the silver blade blasting into view. Doubt attacked Drudwyn for a moment, maybe he shouldn’t strike. Perhaps an impetuous, violent act should be suppressed. As the man he had once been Drudwyn would have agreed, but now contaminated he could hardly see the wrong of it. Xcelcior Melgrot, descendant of the infamous Starkiller, had to be dispatched quickly.

And so the Jedi Knight, his face contorting, flung his lightsaber across the room, using the Force to direct it at his adversary’s heart. Yet the Dark Jedi was too alert. He used the Force himself, extinguishing the searing blade, and he agilely intercepted the handle, tightening his hands around it. Power rumbled through Xcelcior again as he stood, and a few vicious shudders encompassed him.

The lightsaber began to melt, and Drudwyn was shocked—they all were—and after several seconds the liquefaction reversed, the metal was warped beyond repair.

Xcelcior cast the useless remains to the floor and kicked them from his path, then he smirked at Drudwyn. "I see you have found it easy to walk in the footsteps of your former Master."

"What do you mean?" the Jedi Knight growled.

Xcelcior gave a barely audible, satisfied laugh. "You have opened yourself to the Dark Side of the Force, Gorsedd, just as Corryn Wandry did before you, and you have found your way to me as he did. I have great plans concerning you."

"You’re a liar!" Drudwyn spat, wishing he still had his lightsaber. "I will not concede myself to you."

"Ah, but you already have. You have been tainted, and many times you have plunged yourself into the Dark Side… Your denials mean nothing; they only serve to amuse me. You have no concept, no understanding of the power of the Dark Side. It rules everything, it contaminates everything, and by this very power I foreseen many things. Of the recent future concerning you, and of the distant future, concerning, most importantly, the Chosen One."

Xcelcior took a step toward Drudwyn, then he continued. "I’m sure you all are aware of the ancient Jedi prophecy of the One that will bring the Force into balance." They all were, even Cloudia who had heard about it from her father. "None of you know this One’s full potential, of his destiny, but I do. This Chosen One will turn to the Dark Side of the Force. He will slay many and be feared throughout the galaxy." Xcelcior could not suppress a smile, but before anyone had the chance to deny his dreadful prophecy, his expression tightened.

"But now is not the time to revel in that glory." The Dark Jedi outstretched his left arm, then twisted his palm upward. Suddenly Drudwyn realized he couldn’t move. He tried to fight the instantaneous paralysis, but it was impossible. "I must begin enacting my plans with you, Gorsedd," Xcelcior quietly added, then he jerked his arm leftward.

Everyone heard the Jedi Knight’s neck snap, and Drudwyn toppled to the floor.

The Dark Jedi’s expression was something in between a smile and a sneer. "Now it is time," he whispered, but his words were buried.

"Master!" Torin yelled immediately, and he blasted toward Drudwyn and knelt at his side. The Padawan only saw emptiness in the Jedi Knight’s eyes, he could no longer feel anything from his beloved Master, and as he tried to fend off tears, he glared up at the approaching creature.

"Get away from him, my young apprentice," the thing ordered.

Torin couldn’t say anything for a moment, but he stubbornly remained crouched at his dead Master’s side, continuing to glare at the demonic Xcelcior. Then he forced himself to say, "No." His hoarse voice was filled with determination.

The Dark Jedi was unimpressed by this ignorant show of boldness, and he extended his hellish arm once more, an invisible wave of Force shot from his hand and sent the Padawan careening toward the wall, next to Cloudia.

Xcelcior glanced at Torin, smirking. "Your powers are weak compared to mine. I am more than willing to teach you that and many other things."

The young Jedi lifted himself up, sternness still radiating from him. "I’ll never join you."

Xcelcior laughed, the sound quiet and brief. He approached Drudwyn’s corpse and he crouched down, picking up the Jedi Knight’s remains, the dead flesh draped limply over his arms as he rose.

"Won’t you? Won’t you indeed?"

The Dark Jedi seemed as if he would say more, but his smile merely continued to widen, which was very odd owing to the fact that he had no lips. Then he turned from the Padawan and Cloudia and strode toward Marten and the bounty hunter.

He lay the corpse at their feet. "You know what I want you to do," he told them before returning to his throne. He sat down, his charred eyes taking in the sight of the half-Churyen and the remaining Jedi.

The two were not paying attention to Xcelcior though, for they were curious to see what was going to be done to Drudwyn’s body. Gryg was kneeling beside the corpse, waiting, as the bounty hunter opened the lid of the font and extracted a handful of vials before kneeling as well. Then she set the vials on the floor beside her.

The two proceeded to strip the robes from the cadaver, and when the body was completely naked, Tasha took up two of the vials, giving one to Marten and keeping the other for her own use. Without hesitation the Dark Jedi’s servants opened the small bottles, which were full of a silvery, yet somewhat slimy dirt-speckled liquid.

They slathered a large bit of the mixture onto their hands and began rubbing it into the dead man’s flesh, the bounty hunter working on the face, while Gryg coated the chest. The whole thing was very strange and incomprehensible.

"I have much to tell you, my two proteges." Xcelcior finally broke the mind-bending silence, and Torin and Cloudia’s eyes hesitantly departed from Master Drudwyn. "Much to explain, so you will have to wait in order to understand what is being done to Gorsedd Drudwyn and why."

The Dark Jedi paused as if waiting for one of them to take the bait.

Torin almost did, planning to order Xcelcior to explain right away, but the young woman looked at him, concerned, and with the Force she told the Padawan, It’s better to wait. We’ll get nothing before he’s ready to tell us. Torin, having heard, glanced at Cloudia and nodded in agreement.

Xcelcior smirked as if he knew a great secret, but he didn’t speak of that. He merely started his story.

"A hundred and fifty years ago. That’s where this really beings. I was thirty-five years old at the time, much as I am now, but very different as well. Starting with looks I was a very fierce, yet handsome young man. I had long black hair and a very muscular body, all my features spoke of the influence and power of Avernus Starkiller; reputedly I looked quite a lot like him.

"Internally I had not learned patience, and I saw no reason to cast away my brashness. I was also foolish enough to believe that there was no person in the universe as powerful as I was then, and even more ignorantly I thought that I’d already reached the zenith of my abilities." The Dark Jedi laughed, as if to mock his past self, and he wound his fingers together. "Needless to say I was very wrong, but I didn’t know it then. I was utterly blinded by ambition and hatred.

"At the time I speak of, I was only an apprentice. Still I was very skilled, and I felt I had nothing more to learn. I had been trained in the ways of the Dark Side of the Force since my birth, and I wanted freedom to leave my family’s castle. My father, my Master, would not let me go. I might have been ready to go forth and corrupt souls, but he did not want to lose his hold over me.

"My father was an ancient figure, well over a hundred years old and he looked every day of it. His hairless flesh was rotting as if he were already lying in a grave, and his eyes were the color of fresh blood. All feared him, even I had when I was very young, but the older I became the more I began to think of him as a power-thirsting, yet weak old man. At one time the Dark Side had been most powerful within him, but by now most of his actual powers must have faded. He could be no match for me.

"And so I decided to slay him. I would no longer have a Master trying to lord over me; I would be the Master as I deserved to be." A thick smile crossed Xcelcior’s face, but then expression sank away. "I thought my father would not know what I was planning, or at the very least I told myself that he could do nothing in response. Little did I understand what power remained inside of Valstrid Melgrot.

"One night, just after the sun had set over Falcrin, I entered the parlor of my father’s chamber with the Starkiller’s ancestral lightsaber in hand. He made no move to say that he’d felt my presence. He merely stood with his back to me, staring out the window, surveying the village below and the grayness, which was called the Barren Wastes, beyond that.

"Adrenaline shot into me, an excited, twisted fury flushed the power of the Dark Side through my very soul. I knew it was the right time to strike, and I slowly stalked toward my father. My footsteps were silent, as I passed though the dim surroundings, putting all the elegant furnishings and riches out of my head. I focused on my father, closing in on him with ravenous hatred, preparing to ignite the black-bladed saber and strike him down."

The Dark Jedi shook his head and sighed. "Now I was upon him, swearing I saw the faintest shiver ripple through his black robes, and I was pleased, swearing that I felt his fear. I felt intoxicated as I lifted the still unlit weapon. Then I heard father’s ancient, hissing voice. ‘Xcelcior,’ he said, never moving an inch.

" ‘Father,’ I replied callously. It had been a rare occurrence that I’d ever called him that, for he disapproved, rather violently desiring me to never call him anything but Master, and those memories fueled my anger.

" ‘It would be unwise to go through with what you’re planning. I’m more powerful than you think I am,’ my father said, but I would not believe him. There was nothing he could do to me, I thought, and I was very wrong.

Within a second I had ignited the black blade and I tore it into his back, shaking with excitement. But more than that suddenly. As the blade seared into him we were connected, and he sent a raging flood of electricity into me.

"I heard a scream then and realized in my pain that it was mine. I knew that father was going to die, and I thought I was going to die as well. I have never felt so much agony, and it seemed like an eternity that I was consumed by this burning energy.

It finally stopped when father’s lifeless form disconnected from the saber and toppled to the floor. I crumbled beside him at the same moment, and the weapon, which had somehow survived, came out of my hand and rolled across the floor. I groaned uncontrollably as the pain intensified.

"I don’t know when I realized it, it may have been minutes or hours, but I noticed I had no skin at all left on my body, and not even the most miniscule hair survived my burning. My eyes somehow, despite the ordeal, still worked but barely. I saw the silvery gleam of the Starkiller’s lightsaber. I didn’t know why, but I had to reach it. It would sustain me until I could get some help.

"I scraped my body along the floor. Even though it seemed impossible the pain intensified. It must have taken hours for me to reach the object, but I think it was my hatred that allowed me to get that far so quickly. I hated my father for doing this to me, and loathed my own stupidity as well. I didn’t know if I could regain any of my former powers.

"The Dark Side of the Force itself seemed unresponsive to me, but I knew that it would again aid me, that I could regain its favor, when I put my hands on the black-bladed lightsaber. Some of the pain subsided amazingly. Not a lot, but enough. The energy inside the weapon soothed me. I was grateful, knowing that I could somehow escape the wretchedness of this horrible fate.

"Soon I was found by one of our servants, Clon Ansel. You are most aware of what he looked like. He was about fifty years old, a tall man with strange eyes. He was bald and had a very odd, twisting tattoo upon his forehead—one that so boldly declared his devotion to my family." Xcelcior was smirking again as he looked to the shed skin on the floor, then gazed at Cloudia and Torin before going on. "Yes he was indeed a very great help to me in that terrible time, and I will explain that to you now.

"He saw my dead father, then the hideous thing that I had become. He knew just what I needed, and he disappeared to another part of the room. Less than a minute later he reappeared and approached me, he was holding a tightly sealed box.

"Ansel pried it open, revealing a vial filled with dirty, silver liquid. He opened it and bade me to drink as he poured it into my mouth. It felt icy and tasted much like blood, and I was transfixed, realizing it was starting to kill the pain; I could move, almost without wincing.

" ‘What is it?’ I asked.

" ‘It is called exilaaanstri mulkhtaul-vivaaan, meaning the elixir of dark life. It will keep you from dying, Master Xcelcior. Drink more.’ He slipped one bottle after another to my lips, and by the time I ingested the last drop, it was clear that the pain had been completely vanquished.

"Ansel helped me to my feet then; they were skinless and blistered, but even once the whole of my weight was upon them, the pain did not return. I asked my servant to explain what had happened, why this elixir worked as it did and what it contained. ‘I must tell you later, Master Xcelcior,’ Ansel replied, wary to meet my stare. ‘It is imperative that we quickly get to the Steel Snare or some other vessel. We must go to Drakhsah immediately.’

"Until that point I had never heard of this place. It was one of my father’s many secrets, I realized. Yet all the other facts eluded me. I wanted Ansel to reveal what he knew at that very moment. The impatient fury that this secrecy had conjured within me seemed almost unparalleled, but I held back all the rash deeds that were flooding through my mind. I knew my servant would tell me soon enough.

"We exited my father’s chamber, leaving his body to molder, and we walked through the corridors of the castle. It seemed a tomb, an extravagant monument to the death within, for the place was silent.

"None dared disturb us as we navigated the dim, gnarled path to the hangar. Then we reached our destination at last, a fleet of silver ships greeted us almost solemnly.

"The Steel Snare was a dagger-like ship positioned at the hangar’s far end. It was closest to the exit since it had been my father’s preferred ship, and within moments we had boarded. Ansel coded for the hangar door to open, and it did. He piloted the vessel, first from the castle, then from Falcrin’s atmosphere, before setting the coordinates for Drakhsah and casting us into hyperspace.

"Once he had done this, I threw off my mantle of patience and latched onto his shoulder, squeezing his flesh somewhat harshly. ‘Now you will tell me what I want to know,’ I growled as Ansel’s face scrunched with pain. Then I let him go, and he nodded as he gasped for breath. Still I would not take my eyes from him, even though he could not look at me.

" ‘The exilaaanstri mulkhtaul-vivaaan… the Zepleen elixir,’ Ansel whispered. ‘I do not know much about it, I’m afraid. Your father perhaps knew how this potion first came to be, but he never entrusted me with that secret. I merely know how the mixture is made, so that you can continue to survive.’

" ‘Like this?’ I could feel myself sneering, my wrath boiling. I wanted to live, but not as this hideous thing. I had always been handsome and prideful, and I didn’t know if I could handle such ugliness. The thought was unbearable.

" ‘If you desire to have human flesh again, there is a way. Master Valstrid told me of it, but I will get to that once I have finished speaking of the elixir.’ His words while tantalizing worked to increase my anger, but I again held back. I wanted to know everything, no matter to the order, and I tried to think of the wondrous chance that I was being afforded. Life and flesh.

"Then my servant began to explain. ‘The elixir, as far as I know, can only be made from items on a remote world called Drakhsah. Your father often went there collecting what he needed for it. You see, Master Xcelcior, the potion was the reason for his continued good health. Surely he would have died shortly after your birth had it not been for the Zepleen elixir because it stopped the disease that was ravaging him, and it also put an end to his aging altogether. Only something external could have killed him.’

" ‘So it nearly made him immortal?’ I interrupted out of sheer exhilaration, and when Ansel nodded I could feel my horrid mouth trying to smile. There was nothing more I could have possibly desired.

"Then I asked, ‘So what are the ingredients?’ I made no attempt to mask my sudden excitement.

" ‘The first thing you must have is blood, freshly drawn from a Zepleen, and also the ashes from a Zepleen’s corpse.’ My servant glanced at me and witnessed my confusion. ‘The Zepleen are the alien race that lives on Drakhsah. They are very ancient and tribal. They have no technology to speak of and are very superstitious. They understand nothing.’ Ansel sniggered.

" ‘When Master Valstrid first went there they made up a rather amusing legend about what was happening. It was all the more amusing because they believed every word of it. They thought a shooting star, the Steel Snare, was coming to warn them of an angry spirit. The spirit was a strange, ancient black-clad figure.’ Ansel’s smile widened. ‘They called this spirit roht-fyaaag, the death figure, and it was said that he lured the sleeping from their beds, so that they could share the grave with him. Fools. They understand so little.’

" ‘But it was only my father, collecting victims for this elixir,’ I stated, smiling, as an idea fiercely worked its way into my head.

"Ansel nodded. ‘Yes, well, then comes the most important additive, the root of a tree-type the Zepleen call silaaashah. That is where the main immortality ingredient lies, but the silaaashah root also contains a poison. The poison completely surrounds the life-giving elements, and so drinking a potion with the silaaashah root would cause a person a somewhat quick, yet extremely painful death. Unless, that is, an herb called monhkvile is added. It nullifies the poison but nothing else.’

"Ansel’s quiet revealing was ecstasy to me. I can well imagine how my father felt when he had learned of the elixir. Yet I remained impatient and I prodded my servant. ‘Now that you’ve told me all this, I want to know how I can have human flesh again.’

"I watched him shudder, and I realized that he knew what telling me would cost him. Still he rose and went across the room, pulling open a secret hatch, which sat in the middle of the wall. There were more bottles of the potion within, too many to count it seemed.

" ‘You will need these, Master Xcelcior. There will be more than enough," Ansel said, his head bowed in subservient fear. I knew he was offering me his flesh, and I felt extremely excited. ‘To drink of course, and then to preserve the flesh you are going to use. The elixir must be placed on immediately after death for protecting, and the next step, the skinning of the body must be done carefully, else the effort will be wasted. Same with the killing, it must not be too horrid.’

"Ansel was not just trying to prevent me from mutilating him, which I gladly would have done. I knew that if I was to use his flesh, then I truly must be careful, and so I put an end to him in the same manner as I did Gorsedd Drudwyn. Quick, easy, with no hint of damage."

Torin suddenly couldn’t keep himself quiet. "Why do you want to use Master Drudwyn’s flesh as you did this Ansel’s? What good will come from that?"

"Silence, my young apprentice. Be patient and in time I will tell you." The Dark Jedi sat on his throne still, flexing his fingers, waiting for the Padawan to speak out of turn. Torin wanted to, terribly so, but it wasn’t the time to press further. Xcelcior’s calm would melt far too quickly if the young Jedi proved extremely insolent.

"But now I will tell you of how I took my servant’s flesh. I did what Tasha and Marten are doing," he gestured to Gryg and the bounty hunter, who had long since started applying a second coat of the elixir. "After that I cut the flesh on Ansel’s back open with my lightsaber, but carefully, and even more carefully I worked the skin off his bones. It was difficult for me to be that patient, but I forced myself, and when I’d done all that, I slipped his skin over this burnt deformity.

"I sat down again and called the Dark Side to me. It came, gloriously, completely rushing its energy into me, conforming the flesh to my body and making it mine. Now I was almost as strong as I’d been before, and upon ingesting even more of the potion, I was even stronger it seemed. The Dark Side of the Force along with this elixir had put me in the ranks of the immortal.

"For the remainder of the journey to Drakhsah I continued to shape my plan, and I spent a lot of time taking in my new appearance. I wasn’t quite fond of it at first. Ansel had not been handsome, certainly not as I had been, and I thought he looked all too much the part of the servant. Yet as the days went by my view changed. His flesh grafted to my mannerisms and attitudes; I could see my old self within these features, and I could see my new power transcending all else. Things were proceeding perfectly, and I knew they would continue to do so.

"When Drakhsah came into view, I landed on the day side, right within the center of one of the larger settlements. The residents were frightened. I could hear their tumultuous, frightened cries as I exited the Steel Snare. I saw many silver-skinned creatures running about the village, trying to find refuge inside the sparkling wooden huts that were scattered about.

"Some of Zepleen, though, didn’t head for the residences. They thrust themselves up a set of stairs, which were a part a black building. The edifice was quite large and intriguing, it stole most of my attention, and I could not help but revel in the people’s rising fear, as I watched those at the ominous building, pounding and casting themselves into the scorched doors, crying out desperately in their native tongue.

"And it was fear that paralyzed most of the others. They could not run from me even though they desired to. When I reached the sparkling dirt I saw a stricken woman lying upon the ground, pulling several young Zepleen close to her. I found all this amazing. Even in a servant’s skin, clad in far from noteworthy garments, these people were terrified. Though they knew me not, they could feel my power and were cringing.

"But not all of them. The black-clad guardsmen of the Zepleen were not intimidated by my presence. They merely watched me quietly, for they would not back down to any stranger, even one whom had mysteriously fallen from the sky, and I knew then that they would be my example to the people. If I could commit atrocities upon the bravest of them, then what could I do to all the shrieking commoners? I managed to keep my expression stern, though pleasure swelled within me.

"Then one of the guardsmen sneered at me and spat something in his native tongue. He seemed to be telling me, whatever manner of spirit I was, that my presence would not be tolerated. If I didn’t leave of my own volition, then the High Priest and his secondaries would be called to banish me.

"I responded to this by telling them in Basic that I was more than a spirit, not that any of them understood, but my very tone seemed to send a stronger wave of panic into the Zepleen. Still, the guardsmen were brave and unwavering, and one of them, a young, skeptical male, told his fellows that I was not a spirit at all, only an intruding mortal, who’d probably been killing the Zepleen for decades. The other guardsmen thought him blasphemous, but the young Zepleen was out to prove himself right.

"He extracted a metal sword from beneath his robe and brandished it, ready to slice through me. But then I revealed my own weapon and ignited it. A look of fear rippled onto the young guardsmen’s face as my glowing blade tore through the metal with no difficulty. He looked as if he would topple to his knees before me, but I didn’t give him that opportunity.

"I reached into the Dark Side of the Force, channeling its utmost power, and I sent the blade ripping into the young guardsman’s chest. He wailed, then plummeted to the ground once I ripped the lightsaber from his flesh. He was dead, his eyes still looking up in fright, but I took my gaze from him.

"The other guardsmen were confused concerning my ‘weapon of dark light’, and they whispered amongst themselves, wondering if they should do anything against me. Some seemed ready to give up, others though," Xcelcior smiled evidently, "were foolish enough to go on contesting.

"And so I returned my weapon to Ansel’s garments, and outstretched my arms in the direction of a member of the opposition. None of them had time to think about what was coming, but even given time they surely wouldn’t have been able to fathom what I, in my power, could do.

A blight of Force lightning poured from my hands and took the mouthy guardsman down. He screamed out in agony, breaking into series of convulsions. Many Zepleen gasped, the men at my victim’s side wanted to do something but they were unable to as I continued.

"When I’d finished I realized that the doors to the black building had been opened and three purple-robed Zepleen were walking down the stairs. The commoners gasped their thanks, praying that the High Priest and his secondaries, a man and a woman, would be able to something about me. But they sounded doubtful, judging by what they had seen, even the great priests and priestess could do nothing against me.

"Honestly they didn’t even try. They had seen my actions as well and they fell to their knees, thinking that only a god could have such power and such mystical ability, and that is what I had been wanting of them, their worship and their undying devotion, that they would be willing to sacrifice themselves unto me. They named me their deihaaan-mulkhtaul, the dark god, and with every passing year their devotion increases. But I have been reminiscing long enough."

The Dark Jedi look at Marten and Tasha. "Is the body ready?" The two nodded, and Xcelcior rose from his throne. The Starkiller’s ancestral lightsaber was within his grasp, and the main of his attention was directed at his followers’ handiwork, though he was still quite attuned to Torin and Cloudia.

They watched the monstrous creature stalk toward Drudwyn’s corpse, the young Jedi trying all the while to keep his temper from rising. Even without having been told yet, he was almost sure why Xcelcior wanted his former Master’s skin, and he wished he could stop the coming atrocity, but there seemed no way. The Dark Jedi was far too powerful to be stopped.

Xcelcior reached the cadaver, kneeling beside it almost reverently, and he flagged his servants to back away. He looked at every crevice of the flesh in wonderment. He was tantalized by the realization that his long ago forged plan was about to begin and that none could stop him. Then he touched the dead skin, which was still pliant due to the mystical properties of the elixir, and tipped Drudwyn’s body over onto its stomach.

The lightsaber’s blade hummed into existence, casting a very malevolent glow upon the skinless Xcelcior until he lowered it into the corpse’s back, slightly. The black laser opened the flesh, creating a thin gash that extended from neck to buttocks. Then the blade retracted, and Xcelcior placed the weapon at his side, in order to skin Drudwyn.

Though the powerful weapon was still within Dark Jedi’s reach, Torin knew that he could so easily take it. He felt the lightsaber, seemingly beckoning to him, tempting him to call it into his grasp so he could stop Melgrot now, and he almost gave in.

He wanted Xcelcior dead. It was the only way for he and Cloudia to escape unscathed. The only way, and yet he couldn’t. He caught the Dark Jedi looking up from his horrid task, smiling, urging the young Jedi to open himself to the Dark Side and strike him down.

Xcelcior even gave the half-Churyen the same look, but then he went on with his infernal work, which was proceeding slowly. It was maddening to watch, time hardly moving at all as the skin was being freed of the blood, muscle, and bone.

So exactly how long this took no one was sure of, but the time came when the cadaver was skinless, and the Dark Jedi stepped into the flesh as if he were putting on a suit. Tasha and Marten came to their Master’s aid, making sure that was all going well with the procedure, and when Xcelcior was completely inside of it, the flesh only needing to fuse to his body, he closed his eyes, honestly closed them, and titled his head backward. The large incision in the flesh was invisibly being sown back together, and the skin itself was binding to his body.

The fusion took a lot less time than the skinning. It was over it seemed in a flash, and Xcelcior stood there, naked, opening his eyes while flexing his fingers and arms, trying to get a feel for his new flesh. Then he bent down, working his legs a moment before picking up Drudwyn’s robes and putting them on.

This was very odd for Cloudia and Torin to watch. Except for the eyes this was Master Drudwyn. It would take a very skilled Jedi or someone with the knowledge of what had transpired to know that someone else was resting underneath the Jedi Knight’s flesh.

But Xcelcior wasn’t done yet. He knelt down once more, hooked the Starkiller’s lightsaber to Drudwyn’s belt, and then reached for the skinned corpse’s face. In a moment he pulled his hand away, but placed it above the carcass, palm facing upward, and his eyes remained intent on Drudwyn’s.

Using the Force was the only option for such gentility in extracting the dead man’s eyeballs. Yet even though it looked macabre and hardly genteel, the eyeballs rose undamaged from the Jedi Knight’s sockets. Even the harsh red, but somehow crystallized looking optic nerves remained intact as they landed in Xcelcior’s palm.

The Dark Jedi looked at them with half a smile, then rose to his feet again and placed the eyeballs in Marten’s hand. Then Xcelcior went to make room for them, scratching into one of his own and prying it out, not in the least courteous of what happened to it. Partially blind, he took one of Drudwyn’s from Gryg and placed it in his empty socket. After a moment of fusion he could completely see with this new eye, but it was very strange.

Colors and shapes took on slightly different way of appearing. Some things darker or brighter or more obscure. Other things had duller or sharper edges, but as interesting as all this was for Xcelcior, he quickly took to mutilating his remain eyeball and replace it with Drudwyn’s. Now he was the Jedi Knight, completely, but still the descendant of the Starkiller.

He returned to his throne, gazing at Cloudia and Torin as he sat down.

"So my proteges, I have been transformed, and now the three of us will join together to destroy the Jedi Order."

Torin shook his head. "You are mistaken. We will do nothing of the sort." He sounded as firm and strong as always, as though nothing could change his mind. And he was completely a Jedi at that moment. No anger, no emotion at all, only determination.

"Are you so sure about that?" The Padawan nodded, and the Dark Jedi then twisted his voice to eerily sound like Drudwyn’s. "Then it is you who are mistaken, not I. You and Cloudia will apprentice yourselves to me, and the both of you will relish in slaughtering the lot of Jedi. They are nothing, and we will easily destroy them."

Somehow Torin held onto his courage despite Xcelcior’s words, and the Dark Jedi saw this but was not detoured.

"It is apparent you need more convincing, and you shall have it. Yet I must make you aware of my plans, so you will know what to do when it is time for us to act. We will be leaving for a planet called Fyrezyne shortly. It is quite some distance away on the other side of Coruscant, but we will travel in Tasha’s ship to get us there faster.

"And when we have reached our destination I will send out a distress call, which will be heard by a Jedi Knight named Elgend Taggarn. He will come to meet with us on Fyrezyne where I will slay him. Then you, Torin, will send a call to the Jedi Council on Coruscant, telling then that your Master, Gorsedd Drudwyn, has gone mad and that they need to send as many Jedi as they can-."

"No!" Torin suddenly erupted. This merely caused Xcelcior to smirk.

"You will do this. I have foreseen it, but killing Jedi is not all I have in store for you. You will be given the chance to procreate, to bring forth with your own seed, another servant for me. A most important servant, and both you and Cloudia will join together to give him to me."

The Padawan and half-Churyen looked at each other. The act was a quick and nervous one.

"I know the feelings inside the both of you," Xcelcior said as he brought his hands together. "I know what the two of you want. It is an impossibility that you won’t bear a child for me, some servile creature that will be more than willing for me to drain away his soul and have mine take its place."

"You have no soul," Torin said, unable to fight a sneer. "And we will not do anything for you, let alone give you a child for you to contaminate."

"But you will." Dark Jedi looked to the young woman. "You have questions, Cloudia?" His voice sounded mild.

"What about V’l-slech?" Xcelcior’s expression became rigid, but the daughter of former Jedi Master still put forth her second query. "And the deihaaantil-mulkhtaul?" The Dark Jedi gave a brief smile before he answered the second question first.

"Ah, that. Well, that is somewhat interesting, but rather useless now. Over a century ago, even before your father’s birth, I was entranced by visions of you. In one you were before me, dressed in the garb of the old Mersighdonian Force-users, and you were pregnant, with my heir I believed. And in the other you were battling with Vandor Strain, whom you eventually slew. I wove a myth from these, and revealed it to the Zepleen, who suddenly believed you my wife, their dark goddess. Which was well enough, so they would leave you alone, for I sensed your importance even then."

"With your heir?" Cloudia said, remembering H’r-anna’s words of how the Dark Jedi wanted a child by a Force-sensitive woman.

"Ridiculous, I know. It was before I decided against the thought. I am immortal and need no heir, and surely, if I were to have a child, then he would be the one to find a way past my immortality so that he could take my place, the same as I had done to my father. Having you and Torin join together and give me a child with whom I can corrupt from birth will be satisfying enough."

"But what about V’l-slech?" the young woman broached the subject again, and Xcelcior caused Drudwyn’s face to become flat and merciless.

"He must be killed." Whatever Cloudia had been expecting to hear it had not been that, and she almost asked why this was, but the Dark Jedi’s lips tightened and he growled with agitation. "I just told you. If I leave him alive he will kill me, and that is why he must be done away with. I should have killed his mother when I found out that she was expecting him, for it’s not as though I cared for her. She was only a common outlet I used to satisfy myself, but I had this to prepare for, and so I shut the entire situation from my mind."

"But H’r-anna told me that you wanted to help her have a child because she was barren," the half-Churyen pressed on, wanting to know more. Xcelcior’s expression was becoming hot with anger, and he snapped his response.

"I lied to her so that she would open herself to me. I never dreamt that she would actually conceive my heir. Even I, as powerful as I am, can not foresee everything. But enough of this. The millennium that my family has spent waiting is now over, and the two of you will profess yourselves to me now and call me Master."

"No," Torin declared, his tone unbreakable.

"I will allow you one more chance to give me the correct answer. If you continue this ignorant refusal then I will be forced to make you suffer."

"I don’t care what you do to me. I will not call you Master."

Xcelcior gave the Padawan a malicious, searing glare, but when he responded his tone was calm. "Very well," the Dark Jedi whispered, the barest hint of a vicious smile rose upon his lips, then faded.

Torin did his best to brace himself for an onslaught of physical agony. He felt his body tightening and becoming rigid as he watched his former Master’s hand ascend. Xcelcior was stiffening his fingers, crunching them toward each other, but not connecting them. The intensity that radiated from the Dark Jedi was soul shredding, but the Padawan felt no pain, though he thought he should have.

Then he saw where Xcelcior was looking. The man in Master Drudwyn’s flesh was staring at Cloudia, and Torin turned to see the young woman scrunching, her face contorting in agony as she fell to the floor. She groaned loudly, but writhed only a little. She could hardly move for it felt as though everything inside of her was being crushed into a tiny ball and was going to be ripped from her.

"Cloudia!" the Padawan yelled, throwing himself to her side without thinking.

"She will die if you do not relent," Xcelcior said. Torin looked up, panicking, as the Dark Jedi’s severity increased. The half-Churyen’s legs buckled and shriveled toward her stomach; she jerked slightly but it was still enough to cause her to moan.

"Why are you doing this to her? You said I would be the one suffering!" Torin blasted shrilly.

"Aren’t you?"

The Padawan knew that he was indeed suffering, not physically as he’d suspected, but suffering none the less. He knew well that he could have taken any assault upon his own body, but he couldn’t stand to see Cloudia being tortured. He couldn’t let her die, and he knew that she would if he didn’t do as he’d been told.

"I will do whatever you ask of me! Just don’t kill Cloudia!"

"Honestly?" There was a small slash of amusement in the Dark Jedi’s tone.

"Yes!"

"And will she obey me as well?"

"YES!"

Xcelcior stopped squeezing his hand, his fingers retreating to a normal position, and Cloudia was shaking, breathing heavily as her insides stopped contracting. The pain was slowly flooding out of her but was being replaced by dread, knowing what Torin had done.

"I knew you’d see to reason. I can be very persuasive." Xcelcior’s eyes were glittering with triumph.

The young woman didn’t like how things had proceeded at all, and as the Padawan was trying to help her up she told him, "You shouldn’t have done that, Torin."

"I couldn’t let you die," he responded, still suppressing tears. His tone was full of a mixture of relief, shame, and grief.

"You should have let me die. It would have been better."

The two stood there before their new Master in silence. The Padawan could not let Cloudia go, for he feared that he would lose her if he dared to do so, and Xcelcior still was wearing a smug, dominant smile, taking in the sight of his new apprentices. He knew that everything was going as he had foreseen. Nothing could stop him from slaughtering the Jedi Knights.

***

The journey from Drakhsah to Fyrezyne was proving to be long a long one, made even worse by the silent gloom that enshrouded the Blaze of Glory. Xcelcior had not been seen since takeoff, which was one thing to be grateful for. He was down in the Bleak Omen, mediating in preparation for what was to come.

The bounty hunter was sullen, trying to occupy her mind by piloting the ship, and Cloudia could often be found pacing the cockpit. She desperately wanted to talk with Torin, but he had locked himself inside a small bedroom. He’d been in there for days, as quiet as death except for the rare occasions when he grunted to tell the half-Churyen that he wanted to be left alone.

Gryg though seemed oddly happy, often smiling and cracking ridiculous jokes, telling rude stories and doing other things to make those around him more irritable. After the first day Tasha was surprised she hadn’t strangled him. She was beginning to realize that she disliked Marten even more than she had Rensor and that was saying something.

After the fifth day, when Cloudia asked Torin for the millionth time if she could talk with him, the Padawan finally relented. The young woman entered the room, the door hissing shut behind her. Yet she didn’t hear the noise. She didn’t see the drab, gray walls, or even the only piece of furniture in the room—the stark cot that Torin was sitting on—merely the Padawan himself. He looked like he’d had a run-in with a particularly vicious gundark.

The young Jedi apparently hadn’t eaten for days, or slept very much either. Dark haunted circles blazed underneath his eyes. They seemed solidly etched there, and he frowned at Cloudia. He looked to be on the verge of tears and he cast his eyes downward. It seemed that he was looking at the lightsaber he was holding, but he was actually gazing past it, to nothing specific.

This lightsaber wasn’t his Jedi weapon though; that was still hanging from his belt. It was a black-bladed lightsaber, the one that had been found by Vandor Strain. Xcelcior had passed it on to the Padawan before the quintet had left Drakhsah.

Cloudia turned her attention to her own black-bladed lightsaber for a moment. What she wouldn’t give for the chance to be rid of the wretched thing now.

"I’m sorry, Cloudia. I’ve failed you," Torin muttered, not looking up.

"You haven’t failed me." The young woman took a few steps closer to him. She wasn’t sure if she believed her words, but she wanted to make him feel better. She hated seeing him like this. He had been the strongest of them and now he was wasting away.

"I have!" He glared at Cloudia, but then his blue eyes softened as they filled with tears. He found that he could no longer look at her. "You know I’ve failed you… and I’ve failed myself," Torin added with a sigh, then shook his head. "But what I’ve done to myself is the least I’ve got to worry about. I’ve failed the Jedi Order. I’ve betrayed all of them." He choked back a sob.

The young woman took a few steps toward him, not knowing what to say. After a brief silence, she rested her hand upon his shoulder, and Torin gazed at her, although trying hard not to look her in the eye.

"I hate myself," he said, then looked downward.

"Don’t say that."

The Padawan forced himself to his feet, Cloudia’s touch slipping away as he did so, and he glared at the wall, his lips quivering with sadness and self-derision. "Why not? It’s true, and I deserve to be hated after what I’ve done. This is all my fault."

The half-Churyen took a step forward, then halted completely. He didn’t want her near him, even though she wanted to comfort him. Now she knew how he and Erik had felt all those times they had tried to console her.

"If there is a way out of this, to escape Xcelcior’s clutches, I’m going to leave the Order," Torin stated soberly.

"No…" the young woman whispered, forcing herself not to reach out.

Torin spun around, a serious, determined look appeared on his face, and a mixture of emotions raged just below the surface. "Yes, Cloudia. I’ve well proved myself as its betrayer. How can I go back? How dare I go back? I… I can’t."

Suddenly things changed. Torin threw himself at the half-Churyen and heatedly embraced her, their lips colliding. This incident was so much like the one she had dreamt of. Aside from the desirous passion, she could feel his soul; all the negativity that had been locked inside of him for the past several days was pouring into her. It seemed like she would collapse, the vicious roar of emotions seemed overwhelming .

Then the Padawan ended the exchange and Cloudia staggered backward. "Torin," she said in a breathless whisper, shying away from eye contact.

"Don’t ask me why I did that. I don’t know the answer. There’s just been something inside my mind urging me in that direction, and this time I couldn’t hold back. I’m sorry." Torin stated as he turned to face the wall again.

Cloudia was going to say that he didn’t need to be sorry, but he didn’t allow her the opportunity. "If only I could find a way out of all this!" He looked toward the ceiling and gave hopeless groan. "But… but I don’t know if I can. Xcelcior is going to get what he wants, isn’t he? The Jedi are going to be slaughtered, and we’re… we’re." He bit his lip as if forcing himself not to mention them having a child for the Dark Jedi.

"Maybe there’s something we could do."

"Perhaps, but even so, do you know what that something is?"

"No," the young woman whispered.

There was a long silence. Torin was becoming very cold and distant, and he hardly recognized that Cloudia was still in the room with him until he said, "I wish I would have killed him." He raised the black-bladed lightsaber and looked at it wistfully. "Then you could have been spared… And the Jedi too. Contaminated or not, at least I wouldn’t have to kill them."

Then the Padawan seemed to completely shut off. Still Cloudia stayed with him for awhile.

***

A few more days passed without incident, much like the prior days of the journey. Torin was still locked away from everyone, and Cloudia, more worried than before, was even more frantic in her pacing. Xcelcior was still meditating in his tethered vessel. The young woman thought about attacking the Dark Jedi for Torin’s sake, but she knew that Xcelcior wasn’t ready to die. That much was obvious.

Cloudia knew that he would be very much amused to see that she was willing to taint herself. She really understood how Torin felt because she too wanted to get them out of this situation promptly and unscathed. Yet the thought itself was idealistic and foolish. How could all this end? She wished she knew the answer.

Also during the second segment of the journey, travel was a whole lot quieter. Soon after Cloudia’s talk with Torin, Tasha had her own talk with Marten, threatening to impale a laser through his brain if he didn’t shut his foul mouth.

In typical Gryg fashion, he laughed casually, but in the end he had obeyed, perhaps because the armor-clad woman’s face was full wrath and reckless abandon.

After that though a frightening look had settled upon Gryg’s face. He was smiling like a madman, constantly toting the blaster he’d picked up at the Black Head. Still Cloudia had too much on her mind to worry about him. She was staring out the minute porthole when she felt a piece of icy metal caress her back and suddenly grind into the lower portion of her spine.

She spun around to see the sallow, stern-faced Gryg. His eyes glinted in a maniacal fashion, the barrel of his blaster pressing harshly above her navel.

A chill rode up her back, but Cloudia resolved to maintain her calm. The two were alone, but he could not possibly kill her. Didn’t he remember how she’d fought in the Grunge Quadrant? Perhaps not. He looked utterly mad, but then that was the same way he’d appeared when he’d revealed the thermal detonator at the Black Head.

"What are you doing?" the young woman asked.

"What does it look like I’m doing?" His raw smirk was melting like snow would on Tatooine. His eyes were filled with brutality and deranged calculation. "I’m going to have myself a little payback. That’s all."

Gryg drove the weapon’s barrel slowly up Cloudia’s torso, then up her chest and her neck. He brought the blaster to rest at her chin, planning when it would be best to shove it through her teeth.

"Payback? For what?"

"For killing Valenteen."

"But I didn’t kill him, Marten. I told you that on Tenlaw."

"People lie all the time, Cloudia. You, me, everybody. We enjoy lies, telling them and hearing them because the truth is just a little hard to handle. But no lying here, you’re going to die, right here, right now!"

Marten’s blaring voice caught Tasha’s attention, and she strode into the room, her own sleek blaster drawn.

"I didn’t kill Valenteen," Cloudia said as she watched the bounty hunter approach. "If anyone’s responsible it’s Xcelcior, and besides-."

"Don’t try and turn me against my Master!" Gryg’s mouth was severe, the edges of his lips bent horribly downward as he erupted.

"I’m not. I’m only trying to make you understand-."

"Oh, I understand very well, thank you. You’re trying to save your own skin, but you’ve had enough extra time. I would have butchered you by now if I hadn’t been ordered not to. I don’t forgive easily. Hell, I don’t forgive at all. Too bad you don’t have enough time left to benefit from this lesson."

Cloudia knew that Gryg was going to shoot. He was about to squeeze the trigger, dark ecstasy coursing through his reddened face. The daughter of the former Jedi Master began to reach into the Force, preparing to disarm him if she could, but she was not as quick as the bounty hunter.

Tasha fired a round into the back of Gryg’s head, and he never knew what hit him. A few of the lasers had such a searing velocity that they shot out through his face, hitting the wall and just barely missing Cloudia.

The young woman gaped at the fresh corpse before turning her gaze to the bounty hunter. "Thank you," was all she could think to say in response.

"Don’t mention it, Wandry. I hate this whole mess as much as you do."

The half-Churyen knew this was true and gave an understanding nod, but then she cast the blonde woman a worried glance. "Xcelcior might punish you for killing Marten though."

"Maybe," Tasha said with a shrug. "But I don’t care." Well, she did care slightly, but she didn’t bother to correct herself. "I’m not here of my own free will either; we’ve got that in common at least."

The bounty hunter caressed a remnant bruise, which snaked from her chin to her cheek, wondering if that was the truth. She hadn’t wanted to say yes to the Dark Jedi, but she had. She had spoken the acceptance with her own voice as much as she hadn’t wanted to.

Tasha thought to begin telling Cloudia of how this had all come to be, about T’zarn’s murder and about her family’s history of servitude to the Starkiller Dynasty, but suddenly she heard footsteps coming from behind her.

She twisted around so that both she and the half-Churyen were staring at Xcelcior, who was donning Gorsedd Drudwyn’s flesh with perfection. The Dark Jedi smiled icily at the two women.

"You have done well, my servant," he said, looking at Tasha after he surveyed Marten’s remains.

A look of confusion fell upon the bounty hunter’s face. "What do you mean I’ve done well?"

"You did exactly what I desired of you by killing Marten." Tasha’s confusion didn’t lighten as Xcelcior approached her. "He had outlived his usefulness, and I merely stirred up the anger within him so that he would do something foolish. In doing that I knew that you would have to put an end to him, and so you did." He ventured another look at Gryg and smiled with satisfaction. Then he turned to Cloudia, his eyes gleaming with mastery. "We are almost at our destination. Call for Torin to come out of his hiding place."

The young woman thought about disobeying the order but it seemed futile and unwise, and so she complied. Then Torin came out of the room, looking absolutely horrible.

His robes were hanging rather too loosely now, as if he still hadn’t eaten, and the black, unhealthy rings under his eyes were a lot more obvious. Also he was beginning to look more rugged. His Padawan haircut was slowly beginning to fade because his hair was growing unchecked, and the stubble on his face was becoming more profuse.

Torin didn’t even bother looking at Cloudia, instead he glared fiercely at Xcelcior. "What do you want?"

"What do you think I want?" the Dark Jedi coolly responded with a harsh, rhetoric question. "We are about to arrive at Fyrezyne and the two of us must make our attempt to contact Elgend Taggarn… And I must make it clear, my young apprentice, that I will take no more lip from you. If you even think about talking to me in an undermining tone again, I will see you punished." He glanced at Cloudia in order to give the Padawan the right impression. "I pray that I am making myself utmost clear," he said resting his eyes on the young Jedi once more.

"Yes," Torin acknowledged.

Xcelcior wasn’t quite pleased though. " ‘Yes’ what?" he prodded.

Torin hung his head. "Yes, Master."

Xcelcior’s _expression enflamed with dark pleasure. Yet he said nothing, merely leading the Padawan toward the front of the ship; Cloudia and Tasha were in tow. The bounty hunter took the pilot’s seat, and upon the Dark Jedi’s order, she pulled the Blaze of Glory out of hyperspace.

Quickly the flaring starlines dissipated into stars, and the planet of Fyrezyne rested below them. The celestial body appeared to be a lifeless red ball, covered by a grayish haze. It seemed as though it was this way because at times the planet would orbit its sun to closely, though it wasn’t in such dire proximity now.

"Elgend Taggarn is down there, alone, investigating a false claim," Xcelcior stated quietly. "We will make contact with him now." Then he turned to Tasha. "Open the comm frequency, my servant." She obeyed with little haste. "Good," he said, and the bounty hunter pressed the communication button on the console.

"This is Jedi Knight Gorsedd Drudwyn. I am with my Padawan learner Torin Waylein. Can anyone hear me?" Xcelcior’s fraud chillingly sounded like the real thing. "I repeat can anyone hear me…"

After a moment a sharp, gritty voice responded, "Gorsedd? This is Elgend Taggarn. Do you need help?"

Xcelcior smiled sinisterly before speaking in an urgent tone. "Yes. My Padawan and I have come across something rather important over the past few weeks, and-."

Taggarn cut in with a jagged, semi-discordant laugh. "Well, it better be important, I’d say, what with the way you disappeared and all. Right in the middle of an assignment too. The Council doesn’t hold much stock in blasting away from Coruscant with no word or reason."

"But we did have a reason, I assure you. We have Corryn Wandry’s daughter with us."

"Yes," Taggarn mused, his voice plunging deeper. "I can feel that."

"We must meet promptly. She has inherited a most dangerous artifact from her father, the most dangerous if you ask me."

"Gorsedd, you don’t mean-."

"I do." Xcelcior nodded in ecstasy.

"Then you must take her before the Council right away." Taggarn’s voice throbbed with anxiety.

"Of course, Elgend, of course. I agree whole-heartedly, but Torin and I are in need of your help."

The Dark Jedi looked to the Padawan and his voice filled the young man’s brain. Say ‘Yes, she’s been putting up quite a struggle.’ And without even thinking, Torin echoed the words aloud.

"So we must come to collect you. I’m sure you understand."

"… I do," the Jedi Knight responded, though his voice was slightly hazy with mistrust. "Land on the planet, seventy meters north of the equatorial border. There’s a small formation, looks like a hut, but it’s naturally formed rock. It’s sitting atop the tallest of a series of cliffs. You won’t miss it."

"I’m sure. We’ll be there shortly." As he finished speaking he gestured for Tasha to shut the system down, and she did so quickly. "You stay here, my servant. My proteges and I will be taking the Bleak Omen down." Then Xcelcior headed toward the back of the vessel, flagging Cloudia and Torin to follow him.

***

As the silvery, disk-shaped vessel descended through the haze, the parched clay seared into clear view. Hellish crimson had tainted every piece of cracked land, and the entirety of Fyrezyne appeared nothing less than desolate. There was little of interest here, but after skimming over the peaks of an angry grid of mountains in the southern hemisphere, the Bleak Omen soared above some rather intriguing rock formations. What made them all the more amazing and enigmatic was that it was a near certainty that people had not crafted them.

The red clay seemed to rise up into dwelling places and also into stairs, trees and other plant-life, even a series of abstract statues twisted toward the haze. It was beyond remarkable, and surely Cloudia would have been immersed in the extraordinariness of it all. But she was with Xcelcior and Torin, descending to this planet to start a wave of atrocities that would rip through the entire galaxy.

Now the series of cliffs that Elgend Taggarn had mentioned looked to be hastening toward them. The tallest one was quite evident. Even its flat edge, decorated with a clay hut and trees, decently soared above the others, but its opposite end utterly towered above all else. It sloped upward instead of piercing straight back, and more stairs led up the incline, halfway, to a miniscule hole.

Cloudia looked down the staggering drop, to where water might have been on another planet. There was a gapping crater, a vicious incision sliced most of the way through it. The half-Churyen knew that this was where her father had found the black-bladed lightsaber, and she tried to suppress a somber sigh.

Within a matter of seconds the tallest cliff was resting below the Bleak Omen, and Xcelcior, who was piloting, took the vessel down near the hut, next to Taggarn’s arrowhead-shaped vessel and a small patch of willowy clay trees.

When the procedure was finished Xcelcior exited first, and without a glance he gestured for Torin to follow. The two were part way down the landing ramp, and Cloudia began trailing them. At that same moment Taggarn appeared from the dwelling.

The Jedi Knight was a man in his mid-sixties. He was stern looking, and he had steel colored eyes; they matched his loose hair, which snaked midway down his back. His face had very little wrinkles, except those gathered around his mouth and eyes, and one that had flexed itself across the bridge of his nose. Yet his hands and even part of his splotchy, pallid neck appeared very weathered.

Taggarn took a few steps toward them, looking more than mildly concerned. His dark brown Jedi robes fluctuated slightly behind him, for a meager breeze was sweeping through the humid landscape. "Gorsedd," he croaked in a solemn, gravelly voice.

"Elgend," Xcelcior said, a smile playing at his lips. "It’s good to see you again, but I think we should go inside for a moment and talk things over."

"I don’t agree," the Jedi Knight responded, an oppressive feeling baring down on him as the three approached. "If she’s got one of Avernus Starkiller’s legendary weapons we shouldn’t be engaging in idle chitchat."

"It won’t be chitchat, nor will it be idle, I assure you, Elgend."

"Whatever it is we can discuss it aboard ship. The dark power of the lightsaber must be affecting you in a bad way if you can’t see that we should get to the Council immediately. And look at your Padawan, Gorsedd. He looks-."

"Standing here arguing isn’t going to get us to the Council very fast, it is?" The words were completely smug though they sounded logical. "We should go back inside. This won’t take long, I promise you."

Taggarn gave Xcelcior a harsh look of mistrust but then relented. "All right," he said with a sigh, and stupidly turned his back to the Dark Jedi. It was too late by the time he realized his mistake and ignited his gleaming orange blade.

A spark of dominance and hatred illumined Xcelcior’s eyes, and he thrust himself at the steel-haired man, immediately calling his own weapon to attention. He affixed his menacing glare upon Taggarn as he sent his blade tearing to the Jedi Knight’s chest cavity. Taggarn gasped and groaned, and he unwittingly let go of his lightsaber.

The Dark Jedi’s blade ripped higher and higher until there was no more flesh to cut, and the corpse plummeted to the blood-tinted clay. The central facial damage was so bad none could see Taggarn’s shocked look of defeat.

Xcelcior’s expression of triumph could not be masked as he stared down, taking in the ecstasy of his handiwork. "It has begun," he mused with a smile. Then he looked at Torin; the egotistical grin only wavered slightly as he shut down his weapon. "And now it is time for you to begin your roll in all this, my young apprentice."

Torin, his eyes ablaze with dark insolence, said, "No. I’m not going to call to the Council so they can send more Jedi here to be slaughtered."

A sneer slipped onto the Dark Jedi’s lips. "You dare to disobey me?" His voice was calm, yet fatal.

"Yes… I will no longer be a part of this. It’s an atrocity."

Xcelcior’s face was utterly ominous. "I will kill Cloudia, Torin. I daresay you don’t want me to do that, but I will if you don’t immediately do as I command."

"But you need her, don’t you?" the Padawan held his ground, not knowing where this sudden jolt of bravery was coming from. He felt completely furious toward the Dark Jedi, and he knew that he could not allow Cloudia to be killed. He wouldn’t stand for it.

"Well, to tell the truth, she is a favored specimen, but I have no fear of killing both Cloudia and you if I am pushed to do so. I need neither of you." A vicious smile spread across his lips. "I have an entire coalition of Force-users on Mersigh. All I need to do is go there, and they, whether they want to or not, will come with me and help me slay the Jedi. They don’t know my power as the both of you do, but once I reveal it to them they will not prove so insolent… So, Torin, you will follow my lead, then send a brief transmission to the Jedi Council."

"I will not!" the Padawan yelled and grabbed onto one of his lightsabers as he fearlessly plunged toward Xcelcior. He ignited it, unaware that he had grabbed the black-bladed one. Cloudia was dismayed as the Dark Jedi lit his weapon for the second time.

The two lightsabers came together in a shower of sparks, Torin sneering, but Xcelcior held no fear. The Padawan quickly released his blade from the Dark Jedi’s, and stabbed upward to his adversary’s head. Xcelcior blocked easily. This only seemed to make the young Jedi even angrier, and he swung his blade in a curved, downward swoop to sever his opponent’s torso in two. Xcelcior was again too quick and parried with efficiency.

Torin retracted his blade, then immediately called it to life again, hoping to bore it into the Dark Jedi’s heart. The action, while quick, was to no avail. Xcelcior obstructed the would-be fatal strike, and though he was supposed to be on the defensive, he hardly looked as though he was.

Then to the Padawan’s awe, his opponent thieved away the offensive. Xcelcior battered down on Torin quite vigorously. While the young Jedi was able to fend off each ensuing blow it was proving very difficult and he was being forced backward.

He let out a series of grunts as he tried to propel himself to his physical limits. If he was anywhere close to the peak of his abilities, then he knew he was in dire straits. Still he managed to fight off of every invincible seeming stroke, Cloudia watching with helpless anxiety, yet he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

Suddenly the edge of the cliff was met, and Torin, who was completely unaware, slipped. He let go of the lightsaber unwittingly, and Xcelcior called it into his empty hand via the Force, as the Padawan grabbed onto the ledge, wincing.

"I suppose you’re sorry you tried to provoke me, aren’t you?" A cocky smile spread across the Dark Jedi’s face, while he watched the Padawan dangling kilometers above any solid ground. Then with sadistic nonchalance he took a few steps forward and smashed the heel of his boot into Torin’s left hand. The young Jedi grimaced in pain and he wailed, the sound echoing into the canyon below. "Perhaps if you plead sincerely enough and for long enough I will spare you… Plead, you fool!"

Xcelcior again crushed Torin’s fingers, this time bones broke, and as the Dark Jedi lifted his foot, preparing to strike down with it, the Padawan used the Force. He flew into the air, catapulting over Xcelcior’s head and landing behind him. His own black-bladed lightsaber rushed into his unbroken hand, and the weapon hissed into battle position.

The Dark Jedi spun around, a frightful smile blistered onto his face, revealing wrath and at the same time mutated satisfaction. "Did I teach you nothing just now, my young apprentice? It would be wise to get to your knees and beg for mercy. After all I might be in half a mood to be lenient with you."

"I don’t care." The waters were getting dangerously deep as the young Jedi spoke.

"Insolent fool, you will care when I’ve finished with you." Xcelcior’s voice was bleak and icy, and Torin forced himself at the threatening man.

The Padawan was prepared to saw his lightsaber through the Dark Jedi’s neck.

Xcelcior ducked and though he had a clear shot at Torin’s gut he didn’t take it. He merely leapt to his feet, and began to take on an aggressive offense, which had the one-handed Torin pedaling backward toward the hut. It was astonishing that the young Jedi was continuing to hang on, even as he crossed over the dwelling’s threshold. Xcelcior was combatively pursuing him, and Cloudia dashed after the two.

By the time the young woman entered the hut, which the late Elgend Taggarn had modestly furnished with a cot and a portable computer console, Torin had been beaten into a corner. Xcelcior stood glowering down at him, now holding both lightsabers, and he spat on the Padawan.

"You’ve lost, face it. Unless you’d like to draw out your Jedi saber, and as amusing as that would be, I wouldn’t tempt fate if I were you." The Dark Jedi sent a swift kick into Torin’s gut. The Padawan groaned and shriveled up, his watery eyes falling on Cloudia. Yet Xcelcior glanced at her as well, and his eyes turned even more sinister. He looked at Torin and growled, "She will join you in pain and the both of you will perish if you don’t get to your feet and do as I desire."

Xcelcior, not even allowing the Padawan time to obey, twisted toward the daughter of the former Jedi Master, and once she was in his sights, he thrust out his arms, brought his thumb and closest finger almost together, and he began to strangle her with the Force.

Cloudia’s throat began to throb horridly, her flesh contracting with great pain. She gagged, trying to force it way, her hands ascending to her neck, and her head felt as if it were going to explode before asphyxiation killed her.

Torin was again helpless as he watched the young woman start to sink. "No…" he mumbled, but then he burst to his feet and shrieked, "No! Stop!" The Padawan had no time to feel remorse.

"Why should I? You have refused to obeyed me," Xcelcior said, sneering and gritting his teeth, as he tightened his chokehold on Cloudia.

"I will obey you!"

"So you said before."

The half-Churyen was huddled on her knees, still grabbing at her throat.

"I will send the message to Coruscant!" Torin yelled, it seemed that there was little more than a second to spare, but as his shout rang through the modest dwelling, he saw that Cloudia was still standing as if nothing had been wrong with her. He didn’t understand.

"Good," Xcelcior said, smirking. "I thought that would work. I can manipulate you very easily, especially now that you reveal your willingness to completely turn to the Dark Side of the Force." He paused to survey Torin. "You don’t understand? Honestly? I used a somewhat advanced version of the Jedi Mind Trick on you. You saw what I wanted you to see. Your mind is more willing to be obedient to your destiny than you believe." Then the Dark Jedi’s voice became casual as he handed Torin the black-bladed lightsaber. "Make your message to Coruscant. You know what to tell the Council."

***

Several days had passed since Torin had messaged the Council, convincingly begging for their aid, and having obeyed Xcelcior’s mandate the Padawan had become even more sullen and depressed. With the exception of eating a sparse amount of food, rations from the Bleak Omen at Cloudia’s suggestion, Torin spent the days much as he had aboard the Blaze of Glory. There was only the one room in the hut so he was not alone as he’d been while traveling to Fyrezyne, but he might as well have been.

While Xcelcior had traveled to the cave at the top of the slope’s stairwell to meditate and to wait, the young woman remained with Torin and tried to comfort him, but he wouldn’t have it, feeling that he deserved to suffer. The young Jedi was looking more haunted and weathered than before. A desolate, haggard look seemed imbedded into his eyes, and his rough, neglected face seemed to be aging unnaturally. The once strong Padawan appeared to be forever lost. Cloudia was truly disheartened.

Now the half-Churyen was standing at the hut’s threshold, wearing a somber expression as she stared up at the hazy sky. She realized that the fateful time had come, even before she saw the sleek Jedi vessel penetrating the haze. Torin was aware of this at the same time, and he lowered his face into his hands, sobbing silently.

When Cloudia saw the pointed Jedi ship melting into view, she walked inside, bitter pain filling her. Still she forced herself to forget about it as she went to Torin. He didn’t bother to lift his head as she sat down next to him, but he was grateful she was there, even though he felt undeserving of her concern.

The young woman knew this but said nothing.

***

Xcelcior could clearly see that the Council had dispatched nine Jedi, as he loomed just inside the portal of the dark cave. They were all dressed similarly, donning the plain garb of the Order, yet this assemblage had a unique look, for it was made up of many different species.

There were four humans, and as the Dark Jedi could easily discern, a Clawdite masquerading as a human female. There also were members of the Zabrak, Twi’lek, Nautolan, and Mirialan races. Not that any of this mattered, they were Jedi, and soon they would be dead.

The dispatched took a cautious look around after exiting their vessel. They began, checking the area surrounding the Bleak Omen and Taggarn’s ship, which they had set down by. Xcelcior knew the time had come to approach them, and he opened his fist, calling his lightsaber into his grasp. He cleared his mind, completely cloaking himself from the Jedi below.

Cloaking was a useful trick he had stumbled on quite by accident. Over the years he had mastered the technique, and he smiled. He could kill all of them, using the Dark Side of the Force, without being found out. It was a trick of used by the Sith, an Order of Dark Side devotees thought to be extinct since shortly after the time of Avernus Starkiller. Xcelcior knew that a limited number of these Sith still roamed the galaxy, waiting for the opportunity he was about to receive, and the Dark Jedi himself knew that he was so powerful that not even a Sith could break through his cloak and find him.

Still the prying Jedi would not be dealt with by something obscure. It was not the way Xcelcior wanted it, and so he walked down the slope, his cloak shrouding him completely as his victims discussed checking the hut for the Torin and his insane Master.

He was on the flat part of the cliff now, creeping silently by the three vessels, and it was a middle-aged, dark-skinned human male that laid eyes on Xcelcior first. "Master Drudwyn, where is your Padawan?" he questioned, his expression tight and his voice stern.

"That is none of your concern, Jedi." Melgrot made no move to sound like the man whose flesh he possessed.

"What have you done with Master Drudwyn?" It was the Clawdite that first recognized that he was someone else, and she received a mixture of looks from her companions, varying from confusion to thoughtfulness. "He’s not who he seems to be," she added in her deep, semi-feminine voice, and she ignited her blue lightsaber.

The horned, facially tattooed Zabrak followed suit, his purple blade humming into existence, at the same time as a brown-haired human, the Zabrak’s Padawan, switched on his copper blade.

Xcelcior remained complacent and detached. "I am not who I seem," he casually admitted. "But your realization comes far too late. All of you will be slaughtered. None will return to your precious Order to warn them that Avernus Starkiller’s descendant is coming to destroy them all."

Then the Dark Jedi revealed the sinister black blade of his ancestral weapon, and a colorful shiver of blue, green, gray, and turquoise rose up from the Jedi as they finished readying their own lightsabers.

Xcelcior blasted his blade forward in a feint, toward the Clawdite, who was standing closest to him. He quickly drew it back, only to battle it toward her again, this time severing the hand her lightsaber was in, then he drew it back again before impaling her in the gut. All this happened in a matter of seconds, the Clawdite’s assumed appearance withered away to reveal the dark ugliness of her real features.

The Nautolan, with his gray lightsaber, was poised to end the battle with the Dark Jedi, but as he moved to strike, Xcelcior arched his weapon viciously. The black blade went to its vile work, disconnecting the Nautolan’s tentacle-covered head from its body.

That was two down very quickly, but the Jedi were fighting hard to keep their ranks from dwindling more. A barrage of lightsabers thrust in Xcelcior’s direction, but the Starkiller’s descendant was too fast for them. He launched himself into the air and he landed behind the lot, unscathed.

They twirled around as quickly as they could. The dark-skinned human swung his blue-bladed lightsaber straight toward Xcelcior’s middle, it would have sliced right through, but the Dark Jedi blocked the swing, and parried again, expertly, as the dark-skinned man attempted to strike at his chest.

During this contest the Mirialan flung herself behind the Dark Jedi. Her skin looked like a sickly version of Cloudia’s, and it flushed slightly as she drove her green blade toward the base of their adversary’s neck.

Her deep blue eyes, which were surrounded by a series of diamond-shaped tattoos, became very wide as Xcelcior turned and blasted her out of his way with a jolt of Force lightning. She moaned as the velocity of the current pummeled her into one of the clay trees.

Now Xcelcior’s attention was allowed completely to the dark-skinned Jedi ahead of him, and he plowed his weapon downward and lobbed off the man’s leg. The dark-skinned Jedi lost his balance and toppled to the parched ground, but Xcelcior had acrobatically twisted his way from the crime scene. He sent another jolt of Force lightning into the Mirialan, who was struggling to get to her feet. Directly after the crippling blast, the Dark Jedi towered over her and drilled his black blade into her heart.

Three dead, one injured, but a trio of the remaining Jedi were fast on him—the male Twi’lek closest, followed by two humans; a pretty, young woman with wavy black hair, and white-bearded old man. Xcelcior twirled around.

The Dark Jedi quickly prepared himself for what was coming. Yet his focus was larger. It went beyond the lekku-crowned Twi’lek, who was brandishing a turquoise lightsaber that nearly matched the hue of his flesh, and it went beyond the approaching humans. It latched onto the Zabrak, who was telling his apprentice to try and get to the ship. Xcelcior would not have that.

The Padawan was running furiously toward the vessel, and the Dark Jedi sent his lightsaber sailing over the heads of those closest to him. The weapon, guided by the Force, accelerated toward the young Jedi. The Zabrak Master called out a warning to his apprentice too late, and he and his comrades watched helplessly as it gored the Padawan and battered him to his knees.

The next blow came quickly to the Jedi. As the Force-guided lightsaber took down its target, Xcelcior also used his Force powers to yank up the nearby clay tree. It went sailing toward the Twi’lek. The old human used all his might to cast the fatal object away from his ally, and though it worked it caused the Dark Jedi to become furious. No Jedi should dare thwart him, and he called his lightsaber back to him, allowing it attack the old man before it returned.

Xcelcior twirled out of the way as the Twi’lek tried to strike, and the Dark Jedi sent his lightsaber searing into his present attacker’s face, dragging the blade down through the man’s groin before he extracted it.

The human female had her blue blade upon the Dark Jedi before the dead Twi’lek met the ground. For as young as she was, she was proving fierce, almost worthy of converting to his cause. Xcelcior was very tempted to proposition her, but he thought against it as the Zabrak entered the duel. These two were the most powerful of the lot. They thought they had him pinned, but he was controlling this dance, taking them to the edge of the cliff.

After awhile the young woman’s vigor began to falter and she made a costly mistake. The Dark Jedi found it all too easy to decapitate her. Now it was only Xcelcior and the Zabrak. The fighting stopped; they stared at each other.

"You have fought well for a Jedi, Zabrak. It is almost a pity to kill you." It seemed as if he would assume the mantle of tempter, and the Dark Jedi smiled as if he would beckon the Zabrak to join him, but instead he hooked his black blade into his opponent’s chest and heaved the Jedi off the cliff.

The cracking bones echoed up to Xcelcior after several moments. He felt very exhilarated as he went back to finish off the remaining, wounded Jedi.

***

Xcelcior had finished his dirty work and he was returning, triumphantly, to the modest clay structure. Cloudia felt this and removed herself from Torin’s side.

The Padawan was also aware of the Dark Jedi’s coming, but he moved with less haste as he looked up from his palms. His wet eyes reflected the strain and torture of his spirit. He and Cloudia, who now looked at him with a great amount of pain, had seen the horrid Jedi massacre. They hadn’t even needed to look outside; their minds had been filled with the images of death.

Torin wiped away the last of his tears, his black circled eyes quite swollen and almost hate-filled by the time Xcelcior entered.

"As you know, my proteges, I have taken care of those that were sent by the Council. There is little left to do here." Neither of them responded to the Dark Jedi’s statement. The two just stood there staring, stiff and somber, and Torin looked angry as well, as if he were about to challenge Xcelcior to another bout. The Padawan’s fingers were back to normal, the result of a Jedi healing technique, and he flexed them, but did nothing else.

"So, I would suggest that you go back to the Blaze of Glory while I finish things up." Xcelcior added after a minute silence. "Use the Bleak Omen, and I will return in the vessel that the Jedi have so graciously left behind. Also tell Tasha to prepare for our journey to Coruscant."

The Dark Jedi smiled at the unmoving pair, dread settling into them, and the two were smacked with a vision. In it Xcelcior was leading them throughout the sacred, artistically crafted Jedi Temple; Coruscant’s glowing sun was almost finished setting, a grim, yellowish light filling the whole place.

No one was aware of the trio, for an invisible shroud cloaked them as they slipped through the exquisite building, which Cloudia had never been in. If only she had not protested Drudwyn taking her to the Temple in the first place when she’d met him and Torin; if only she had not been obsessed with keeping the vile black-bladed lightsaber. Then none of this would be happening.

Suddenly they were at the top of a tower, in the rotund, mystical looking Council chamber. Night was flooding over this part of Coruscant now, yet brilliant manufactured light was rising all around, as Cloudia glimpsed the diminutive Master Yoda and the others, most of which her father had spoken at great lengths about. Now the three ignited their black blades, ready to take on the esteemed group. Some would not go easily, especially not the wizened Yoda, but they all would perish, every single one of them.

And now the vision ended. Cloudia jerked, looking at Torin, knowing immediately that he had seen them preparing to slaughter the Jedi as well. If anything Xcelcior’s smile had widened, and within a handful of silent moments, his two apprentices started for the Bleak Omen.

***

When they returned to the Blaze of Glory Tasha was waiting for them. The bounty hunter was obviously taken aback to see how much worse Torin looked, and she gave him a long, concerned stare. Yet she didn’t mention anything about that. She merely asked, "Where’s Xcelcior?" Her arms were folded tautly above her armor-clad chest as if she expected the Dark Jedi to burst in behind them.

"He’s still down on the planet," Cloudia responded, her voice somewhat quiet. "He has a few things left to take care of before we move on to Coruscant." The half-Churyen wasn’t looking at the bounty hunter, but through the Force she could feel something changing in the other woman’s stance and attitude.

Cloudia looked directly at Tasha.

The blonde woman’s face was nearly about to light up with excitement, but she held her mirth back, her lips fighting to suppress a smile. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course," the half-Churyen said, keeping her eyes intently on the bounty hunter, and now Tasha fought the smile no longer.

Torin couldn’t help but respond to her joy in a very bleak, hopeless tone. "Are you thinking we could try to escape? It won’t work. He’s just slaughtered nine Jedi as if they were completely unskilled." He shook his head and looked toward the floor. "He won’t let us get away just like that. It’s impossible. He might even be expecting it."

"I don’t intend for us just to make a run for it," Tasha said, then turned from Cloudia and Torin before quickly striding to the pilot’s seat and sitting down. She stiffened her back against the chair and reached forward to the lever, which controlled the Magnum Laser. "I’ve thought this out, and it’s the only way we can be rid of him." The bounty hunter grabbed the lever and she pulled back on it as hard as she could.

The Blaze of Glory gave what felt to be an eager shudder, then with a massive hum, the laser was expelled, pounding toward the planet, to the spot where Xcelcior ought to be. Tasha pulled back harder, her face screwing up with utmost determination, and Cloudia and Torin watched on with awe. The whole thing seemed too good to be true. This Magnum Laser had once mutilated the Corellian Death Ray and all aboard. Surely, unless Xcelcior was already kilometers from that spot, he would be dead. No one could survive such an attack, not even the omnipresent descendant of the Starkiller. Still…

The bounty hunter let the lever go, her body overcome with tremors caused by exertion, and she was breathing heavily, yet she looked more than satisfied. She felt victorious.

Tasha turned to face the others, wiping the few dots of perspiration from her forehead. "That should have taken care of him," she said, but upon watching the disquiet on the other two’s faces, she suddenly felt worried herself. "But perhaps it hasn’t." The bounty hunter couldn’t imagine the punishment that she, and possibly, the others would endure if the Dark Jedi were still alive.

"It just seems too easy," Cloudia said.

Torin nodded. "I agree."

Tasha’s expression was rigid and fretful. She could feel her heart rate increasing slightly as she stood, and after a silent moment, she approached the others. "Maybe we should go check," the bounty hunter said, even though she didn’t feel like chancing a face-to-face meeting with Xcelcior. The others didn’t desire such a thing either, but they agreed, hiding their reluctance behind sober, determined expressions.

***

The agony was more absolute than any living creature could have imagined, and still Xcelcior Melgrot was alive. He was enduring, yet he didn’t know much longer he could. He was once again a skinless depravity, hideous pain coursed through him every time he even thought about moving, though he held his ancestral lightsaber as close as he could.

He wanted to smile. The weapon had sustained no damage, and as an expression of mirth started to travel to his face he winced and groaned, but he fought down his urge to scream. If only he had some of the Zepleen elixir. Then he could renew his strength and butcher his insolent servants, but that was impossible, at least at the moment.

Despite the pain, the thought of revenge made it easier for him to move, and he pressed the lightsaber’s handle into his form very harshly. He could feel its power throbbing against him, and he knew that with it, somehow, he would be able to rise out of this desecration and destroy those that had caused this.

He looked around, his eyes barely working at all. He could dimly see that he was still in the clay hut, which was amazingly still standing. Two twenty meter holes, one in the ceiling and one in the floor, were almost all the damage inside aside from Xcelcior, who was crouched in a corner surrounded by strewn rubble and a few snatches of burnt, melted flesh. Even the ground-quake, which had caused a terrible lot of destruction to the other cliffs—by the sound of it—still left the hut and its resting perch standing. It was unfathomable but lucky for the Dark Jedi.

There were sounds outside, a ship landing, footsteps, voices. Xcelcior’s servants had returned to see if they’d done a thorough job, for he knew they had been the cause of it. They had used the Magnum Laser aboard the Blaze of Glory like cowards. If only he could take care of them now, but even his hatred and need for vengeance, coupled with the power of his black-bladed lightsaber could not help him now. He would have to wait patiently for another to help him escape this cursed fate.

The Dark Jedi, with all his remaining power, cloaked himself. He was still able to do that quite efficiently. His trio of disloyal servants entered the hut, very worried that Xcelcior hadn’t been killed, but they weren’t even aware of him watching and listening from a shadowy corner.

As a futile search transpired Cloudia and Torin became immersed in a heated argument. This was settled when Torin reluctantly agreed that it would be best to take their black-bladed weapons, the very creation of Avernus Starkiller himself, to the lowly wretched Jedi Council for destruction. Upon leaving the hut, they thought it was over, but Xcelcior was there listening, knowing he would rise once more.

END