Vladimir Faust

The transports hung in orbit around Onderon, frantically working to identify the problem on what pulled them out of their attempted egress and left them sitting ducks for the Jedi, the GA, or anyone with a mind to scuttle the Master's plans. Isel hung aside from the main transports in his ship, acting as a pointman in case of any incoming ships or trouble. He fully expected something to happen, a low sinking feeling in his gut. Surprised passed as the helpless transports were not attacked as time ticked on. As precious minutes passed, though in his heart Isel felt like it was weeks. Each second, a subjective day, he felt certain an attack or intercept would come, surprised when nothing happened. Drifting in space, the crews on the transports were able to identify the cause for their misfortune with a dangerous spacewalk, locating the cut wires that scuttled their shields and hyperdrives. More time passed as they identified the same problem on their other ships and the identical throwing stars. Isel almost smiled, knowing very damn well it was the Sith spy that did it. As the repairs went into effect, the cavalry did not arrive, and the ships were fully operational again. The jump was short, taking them out of Onderon's orbit, placing them at a near-by rendezvous point off the beaten path of hyperspace lanes where the remaining ships from Midsengard and Kuat had arrived. Faust, still in meditation, projected his presence to the assembled crews- giving a short rallying cry. Many thought they were set to retake the Galaxy and establish a new empire. Few knew of Faust's true plans. And with this, my loyal troops, we strike at the heart of the Galaxy. Ground Zero will mark the birth of a new age, a new chapter in the Galaxy's bloody history. The wars that marked it in the past will be over, the pawns of the Force will be eclipsed in my glorious shadow. The final Ritual will ascend us to great power, and with it, we shall establish the order this Galaxy deserves. All was technically true, presuming one knew Faust spoke in the royal we. Without waiting further, the ships made their final jump into hyperspace, their destination: Ground Zero, the site of one of the biggest tragedies and bloodletting in the Galaxy's entire history. It was the site where a Wound in the Force Faust personally tore open would be ripped wide open, creating a chance for him to consume the life essence of what was once more the Galaxy's most populous planet, starting a vortex of death that would spiral outward until all was covered in Darkness. As Faust's opponents guessed, the idea was not to take the heart of the Galactic Alliance, but to hold off its forces until the Ritual was done, at which point it would be far, far too late. The ships speed towards Ground Zero at coordinates zero, zero, zero: Coruscant.

Isel paced back and forth in the heart of the ruins, eyes closed, expecting a confrontation. He wondered, paranoid, if the Sith was on to the Master's plan, or had even allied with the Jedi, CoreSec, or the GA in an attempt to foil the Master's ascendancy. While not Force sensitive, nor even a Force user, he held the sphere containing the Sith wraith and the syringe full of the alchemic mutagen, having expected to use that as a last resort in defense of Luciferian's great works, conscious of how it would have given off a powerful signature to those gifted in the Force. He felt the Sith's thought on his mind, and while he lacked the ability to project his thoughts back, he relaxed his mind enough to let one train of thought echo back. A mistake was made, but in the game my Master plays, there is nothing left to chance, no loose ends, Darth Eris. Some secrets are worth dying for, and killing to keep, even from brethren.. You who claim to serve only yourself must appreciate that. We serve Faust, and Faust's ascendancy cannot risk others seeking his power in his footsteps. Isel knew his life was forfeit once the final Ritual was done, all the acolytes here knew, but Faust's will was theirs, and with it their ability to choose otherwise. The evacuation proceeded at its fast pace, and to Isel's surprise, all of the Master's creations were loaded in with relative safety, save for an unlucky pair of acolytes who were too close to one of the larger abominations. He concluded the Sith retreated without incident and despite the loss of three talented acolytes, it was a wash. Relieved, Isel boarded a private shuttle, taking off after the freighters. Behind him a massive eruption shook the ruins, an all consuming flame wiping out evidence of Faust's lab, his experiments, and his legacy there. The first sign of something amiss was when the shuttles experienced trouble after reaching space. Shields were designed to not only offer protection in battle, but from space debris that lay in space, from cosmic dust to orbiting shrapnel and waste. The tough hulls of the ships endured, but with greater turbulence than should have been possible. When the time came to jump to hyperspace, nothing happened, and a panicked comm reached the doctor. "It's not my fault! It's not my fault! The hyperdrives, they aren't working!" Isel closed his eyes, almost biting his lips before giving a bitter laugh. More than rampaging through the lab, more than setting everything afire and leaving in a blaze of glory, this subtle act of sabotage put the entire wing of this operation at risk. Brilliant... and deadly. "Fix it," the doctor snarls back, "we have to be able to move into hyperspace quickly if we're to meet up with the Master for the final piece." Would their presence attract the GA before Faust arrived? Would they be able to fix it... Isel did not know. He gave a grim snarl, looking out the cockpit window. If they could not assist the Master in his final assault, Onderon would burn and Faust would get his blood's worth for this development. It may be enough to draw off the GA... perhaps...

The trio tumble down into the pit. The Givin made a last, desperate lunge to grab onto the Sith as she leapt away, but failed, falling with a screech. The leviathan feasted well on all three. In the lab's center, Isel remained calm, but kept nervously fingering the syringe, knowing it was a last resort, but one that looked necessary- one of Faust's alchemical pieces of brilliance. Striding over to a console, he gives the evacuation order: All creations that could be loaded into a freighter, do so at once, and all other staff, evacuate. That would include most of the leviathans and other beasts, though the reanimates were expendable. Anything that could not be loaded would be released into the jungles and directed towards Iziz as a diversion in case there were any others on the Sith's trail. "Evacuate," he states softly to the adepts surrounding him, "We won't find the Sith, even with your powers as they are. The important thing is the Master's plan. He needs to the army to run opposition while he conducts the final Ritual. Get into space and send the usual comm channels. Lord Faust will pick you up- the final hour is upon us. That is what matters above all else... That is all that matters now. She wants me, and she can find me. For Lord Luciferian." He keeps the syringe pressed to his thigh, standing at a console, and waits the inevitable. While not a Force user, while only devoted to their history, and their arts as an outsider looking in, Isel had a moment of clarity as if he could see the future. He knew he would not live to see his lord execute the final ritual and ascend- that was his only regret. He could only ensure enough forces were available to give him the time needed to reshape the Galaxy... no the very Universe at large. That was solace enough.

The Givin inclines his head in a nod of appreciation for the traditional greeting, and a smile almost appears on his face at the Sith's pledge of allegiance. The answer was typical Sith, and one even the Master used with honesty. "Come with us. We will take you to the doctor." He makes a subtle hand gesture to the Falleen twin adepts. "We will take Darth Eris and her companion the lab. Isel and the Master will want to see her." The Givin and the Falleen seem to commune, no fear in their voice, suffering heavily from the imprint Faust placed on his adept, even in the wake of Roe'gall. ***** Within the ruins, Faust's image appears once more on the holo as Isel quickly briefs the Master on the situation. Faust's eyes, so blue they are almost as black as the Givin's stand out even in the holo, blinking close as he meditates, knowing this Sith by reputation. So close to the very end, and a spoiler was arriving. He sensed danger at this intrusion, wondering how it was happening. Once more he wondered if the Force itself conspired against him, setting its pawns to thwart his plans. Damnation! He gives his orders to Isel, who comms them very quietly back to the adepts escorting Eris, verbatim. ***** The stone hallways and lithograph lined ruins had a narrow, almost catacomb like feel with passages leading off into tombs, rooms, and other areas best left undisturbed... not that it stopped Faust or his followers. Machinery and relics scattered through half closed stone or metal doorways hinted at the alchemical nature of the research and experiments going on within. Traps could be sensed but were current disabled. The Dark air hung over it, a miasma to the soul that should be thick enough to be present to the naked eye. Even the Valley of the Sith on Korriban lacked this level of darkness. The trio of escorts were silent the whole time, Faust's command echoing in their heads. They passed over a long pit, spanned only by a metal catwalk some forty feet across. The pit dropped into darkness some thirty feet below, though the cyclopean sounds of the Hunter's abominations could be heard rustling below, hungering: one of Faust's newly bred and larvae Leviathans. A wave of nausea and screaming could be felt, an echo on the Sith's sixth sense- though without the full blister pods, these creatures were still fed sentient lifeforms the Hunter had either need to dispose of, or abducted just for that purpose. At the pit's floor, the Levianthan stirred, sensing food above it. The pit's stone walls lined with a heavy titanium alloy starting from the floor to ten feet up. Behind a shielded and even thicker metal covering was a door that lead outside the pit, leading eventually into the main complex of the ruins and the heart of Faust's lab. In the middle of the span, the trio stopped. They had to be quick- they knew an assault against the Sith was suicide with their skills and if they were to give their lives, it would be to take down a foe of the Master. It was lamentable their path lead her close to the Doctor at the heart of Faust's lab should they continue on their current path, but treachery was their only recourse. Three lightsabers sprang to life, cutting not at the Sith following their lead, but at the catwalk itself, severing railings and floor in neat strokes, letting it collapse. They would take themselves, the Sith, and her towering companion down into the pit deep below. Faust's words were precise: "Let the Leviathans feast on her bones, and let the bones join our ranks."

One of the white cloaked adepts at the gate of the complex into the old Sith ruins steps forward at the sight of Darth Eris, two more adepts staying alert, hands approaching lightsabers- while not expert duelists by any stretch of the imagination, the pose suggested at least competence to defend themselves against soldiers or hold out against a duelist. The rest of the adepts ignore the newcomer at her pronouncement, working on destroying evidence. One white cloaked "researcher" hurries into the ruins to let Isel known of the newcomer's arrival, hand already on the comm. The one who stepped forward to approach Eris pushed back his hood, revealing the skeletal features of a Givin. In an unsettling fashion, the black eyes of the Givin burned a cold blue, the same with the two Falleen, brother and sister behind him- signs of Faust marking his adepts and force sensitives. A simple question is posed. "A question a follower of Darth Luciferian would know the answer to. To whom do you owe your allegiance, Sith?" ***** As the question hangs in the air, Isel turns from his duties deep in the ruins and the heart of Faust's lab, a frown on his face, having just gotten the news from outside. The Master was arriving in person- was this a herald of the Master, or was this a fell coincidence? He knew of one apprentice Faust took in the past, but since the Master was turning on his former order, this was troubling. He opens up a comm back to Faust, awaiting instructions...

The assistant, all smiles and cheer, is almost surprised at the ask for Isel. "The doctor's been popular lately. Had a visitor... was it earlier today... or was it a while ago?" She shakes her head, having lost track of time with so many other things going on around her, unsure if the previous visitor here to see the doctor was still present. "He's at one of his jungle research sites. There's a few of them...." She tries to get into Isel's itinerary, but cannot- finding it merely blocked off for "research". She shakes her head. "I wish I could do more to help you, but I don't know which site he's at There's one that's he's been at for some time- it's about a good 4-5 hours out into the jungle." While the administrator was a dead end, there was an oppressive air over Iziz, radiating from the jungles beyond the city, one that was growing more powerful by the second. ***** In the alchemy labs, a curious mixture of old stone architecture mingled with new machinery, Isel rises from kneeling, having finished a secured comm with the Master himself. Making his way from the antechamber (notes indicate this was once the private quarters for a Sith luminary and served as a meditation chamber), he passes into the main lab. A giant holo display contains not maps, but various texts, including the Master's notes as well as works by other known Sith Lords. Scores and scores of reanimate undead clamored for blood, being contained at the moment in a simple pit with smooth steep walls and a 12 foot drop. Chrysalides mutated from rancors were kept in containment, as were the deadly leviathan larvae in a separate section. Speaking to some of his adherents- the Force sensitives who actually executed the work Isel and the Master deciphered, he gave a quiet repeat of the Master's words. "The end is here. The Master himself will be by to retrieve his army and lay siege to Ground Zero." Isel smiled, unfazed by the black air hanging over the lab and ruins. He could feel the energies now, they were a tangible thing here. He no longer cared if that Jedi back in the city was on his trail. Isel nervously fingered a small syringe, a last resort if he came under siege here or at Ground Zero. The mutagenic properties of Alchemy were his now and even as a powerless professor, he now had one trump card to show them all what his learning had wrought. "Start burning and destroying the archives," he added softly. "Our work is done. I wish to leave behind as little evidence as possible of the Master's plans."

GALAXY IN PERIL Apocalypse Now? Coruscant: Waves of attacks on the Galactic Rim have intensified recently, leaving several worlds in the periphery devastated and in a few cases, reportedly reduced to just lifeless husks or rock and water. What started with isolated attacks on Dantooine, Kashyyyk, and then Kuat, has sped up. While none of the affected worlds are major population centers nor have any large impact on the larger Galaxy, the terror is spreading among Galactic citizens. The culprit of these attacks is believe to be Vladimir Faust, who has been sighted by sources as being at the site of the previous three attacks as well as an attempt on the Alliance Senate. One Galactic Alliance official, speaking on the condition of anonymity, gave the following statement: "The attacks frankly, have baffled us. No radiation, no poisons, no pathogens, no energy we can detect, just death, leaving structures intact. Shields and other conventional defenses are useless. The weapon that the attacker is using kills everything in a radius and moves on to hammer these planets. Sources say it's some twisted use of the Force, but that's beyond us. There's no tactical benefit we can discern to these attacks, no plundering, no resources gained. The worlds are chosen because they are easy targets with populations to rack up a high body count, done hit and run style. It's terror and wanton killing." Deaths are now well in the millions. With the attacks growing in frequency and mobilization of the Alliance's fleet, a quick, but bloody end is predicted to these attacks. The question remains- what is the attacker's endgame? And what will it take to stop him? If it is Faust, known for the Coruscant Shield Collapse which killed billions and billions of people on this very planet, is this a warm up for something far worse?

Archer grimaces as his illusion is broken, breaking the charge suddenly. Realizing his cool club wasn't all that great, and that ultimately no one cared, he started up his next attack just as Kitt launched a blinding attack. Archer's head retreated turtle-like back into his body, allowing him to miss the shot- though it was more like a solid sinking into a blob of fat. It was a common defense mechanism of the troll-like species to which Archer belonged, since the same orifice also expunged waste- also leading to apt observations of where (or what) his head was usually up. His head poking out again, he sneers. "A cheap shot! A cheap shot! You can't do that!" he half-wails. "I'll show you your future!" Drawing on a technique by an individual who claimed to be a friend of the Baron Papanoidia, Archer sent out a psychic assault- showing the three Jedi their future, dead and broken as his feet. "Behold my Supershadow Technique! I bring you visions of what your future will bring!" The fact that Supershadow might have been a liar and a fraud was lost to him. Hoping that technique stunned them, Archer launches into his second psychic attack, using another illusion and bringing out his second weapon. In a thought too hideous to behold, he multiplied as if splitting by mitosis. Some are identical, but some appear to be different, masked, as if he was running around with aliases. They all have their characteristic as they survey the trio before him. "Behold my attack of the clones! This is the greatest move ever!" he crows himself, though various fonts of dialogue spew from his cloned and aliases. He engages in an action move that was spectacular, though some of his aliases attempts to be personable and believable fell flat as Archer prime spoke, almost giving a bi-polar appearance like a young Anakin. He raises up his weapon, a large, bulky thing that looked like it fired giant railroad style spikes, almost looking like giant metal posts. As he does it, his clones and aliases do as well, massively inflating the number of posts in the air. "My superior post count will be your undoing fools!" ((2))

Archer was up for a challenge, especially for picking on foes he thought were beneath him. As the first challenger approached the hangar bay followed by a young girl and Kitt, Archer changed tactics and tried a psychic illusion to entrap his foes. The hangar bay seemed to melt, turned into a fiery valley. Flanking him on each side were dozens and dozens of what looked like battle droids, marching in step. The results were impressive in scope, and the background is vivid and believable, as is the illusion of the sensation of heat. Unfortunately the droid illusion was clunky when animated, casting them right into the heart of the uncanny valley, and the sound effects to bolster the reality of the illusion was all but cartoony. "Dude! Can't you see you're totally outmatched by my army?" Archer sneers using an eye roll that was all but reflexive, hoping his foes would be awed by the phantom menace he produced take him at his word. "Just lay down and die already! " The sneer growing more dire and his flaming growing hotter, Archer produced one of two actual weapons he brought to this duel- a larger cudgel that radiated cold, sub-zero temperatures and could batter and freeze foes. "Time to join my cool club!" With a roar, swinging it back and forth, he charges. ((1 if you want play this out as a duel))

Recovering aboard the Megiddo, Faust recovered, sinking from a coma like trance into a near trance-like battle meditation. Linked to the cy-ops of the ship, he kept a steady commune with his followers, keeping troop movements coordinated, and having stolen from Black Sun, ensuring that RAGE permeation was present to help facilitate the final strike. A few remaining Nightcloaks were picked up as well- they would be useless for a longterm siege as was their want, but as a weapon of quick terror, they would be fantastic. A few smaller worlds on the Galactic fringe would provide adequate feeding as he waited to execute his final move, allowing hit and run feedings before the Galactic Alliance could muster a response. All the pieces were on the board, and it was a matter of maneuvering them into position. His trance dipped out of battle meditation into foreseeing the future, trying to stake out probabilities and manipulate the to his ultimate success. He wondered if the Sith were set to oppose him, having heard nothing of them since all but turning on his final apprentice. The Jedi would be a problem as always, as would CoreSec. He still worried a bit about Black Sun, having a premonition that things were not going to go smoothly from here on out. Two items remained to get assembled for the final strike. If he was not stopped at either juncture in time, as nearly happened on Kuat, he would be well placed indeed: 1) Arrive at Onderon and pick up the last of his home-brewed abominations. He still awaited word from Dr. Isel that the monstrosities were ready. 2) Arrive at Midsengard to get the last of the bodies and supplies needed, and supercharge his feeding using the ANGEL Battery. From there... it was just preparing the final Ritual and watching the dominos fall... Feed, Kill the Force itself, rule the Galaxy... no... the Universe... forever and ever.... Eyes opening, once more glowing their eerie blue, flickered with veins of absolutely blackness, Faust smiled at the thought. It would not be long...

Speak of the devil and he appears- not Faust himself, no, but one of his agents. While the Hunter was mostly incapacitated aboard the Megiddo from exhaustion, currently in deep space, he sent one of his agents to shut down one of the known Jedi locations on Lehon, not entirely trusting his actions in manipulating Black Sun to do the trick. The agent approached the Jedi temple, wrapped in illusion and shadow, strolling as if it were a giant and entering into one of the hangar areas. This was one of the abominations the Hunter bred on Onderin's labs. This was a unique creature, one that a former master of the Jedi and balance known as Stephen had slain at one time before the Hunter brought it back to life. Indeed thought Faust ordered this abomination revived, it was with some trepidation and loathing even from the Hunter to deal with such a beast. The creature's origins were hard to trace, but before it was slain, it was a devoted follower, even worshipper of the Baron N. Papanoida of Pantora before turning to the Dark Side. "FEAR ME JEDI! I HAVE COME FOR YOUR BLOOD!" The voice thundered and carried with it an almost awesome presence. There was a psychic backlash that was oppressive in dealing with it- indeed that was its forte, sniping and attacking from a distance with illusion and psychic assaults to drive foes fleeing or into despair. The cloak of illusion dropped and the creature revealed itself, its skin bursting into fire. It was a mottled green with a squat, flabby body, tufts of hair, and what looked like horns of a sort. The fiery aura and its stunted beastly nature gave it the appearance of a flaming troll, though it was reported, if someone could believe it, ice powers with the ability to cool things down with a small club. it wielded. Because of its long distance psychic sniping, this misbegotten creature, bane of things across the Galaxy had a code name with which it introduced itself, sending out waives of psychic pressure to cause fear and agony to all it encountered. "FEAR ME! FOR I... AM... ARCHER!!!"

Faust reached the meditation chamber of the Megiddo. It was shaped not unlike Vader's aboard the Executor, but the alloys and composition were far, far different. Coupled with its own life support and cy-link systems, it backed itself up as a proverbial panic room and second bridge for Faust. The Ragnarok and Apocalypse had similar chambers, but the ships themselves were still far more unfinished than the Megiddo. Settling into a throne like seat, the Hunter felt a flush of power run through him, feeling his abilities amplified. His breath quickened and he let his awareness branch out in a final, light touch of battle meditation to reach his troops to coordinate this final strike and then the retreat. His meditation sunk him into a trance as he drew on the energies needed. Around the meditation chamber, the ambient temperature dropped several degrees. As he felt the power build in him, a single comm made its way through to Faust's consciousness. Lord Faust- there is a Mandalorian Vessel pursuing us. It's the bounty hunter's. Faust's smile was all but beatific at that news. Sweat poured down the Hunter's face, and though healed from the sonic damage, once more blood dripped from the Hunter's nose and then eyes as they turned black. Blood pooled in the gauntlet of his right hand, leaking out and staining a branching pattern down the blade of his Sith Sword, which began to pulse with darkness, throbbing in rhythm with the void in the Hunter's eyes. The Hunter's chant, fast and precise- set to shape his thoughts and will for what must be done, channeling the Force to do his bidding, never wavered. "Dust to dust... ashes to ashes... let the Darkness cover all, consume all... as it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end... One Force, One Darkness, a circle of Hatred balancing life and death.... dust to dust... ashes to ashes.." The Megiddo then lived up to its namesake in that instant. The ship seemed to power down for a second, as if something were leaching its engines, and from those looking at it, it seemed as it the stars around it went black. A beam exploding out of the front of the ship from an almost ornamental looking sigil on the ship's front. It was narrow at first, then widening as it shot out towards Kuat right at Kuat City, the planetary capital. Fett's ship was directly in the crossfire, but protected by the ysalamiri's bubble, it experienced what could best be described as turbulence in space and nothing more and was left a bubble sitting in the middle of the black wave that had widened far beyond the radius around the ship. The scene on the world below was... spectacular... awful, but spectacular. Though in a sense, the damage from that initial shot was on par with a powerful capital ship turbolaser firing down on a civilized planet, the effects were far, far more perverse. A black dome encompassed where the beam connected, shorting out electronics in the periphery, and growing until the radius of the blast was over twelve thousand of meters (four miles) wide. The beam connecting to the planet started to rotate like a twister, causing strong headwinds around it. The tornado of Darkside energy only lasted for several seconds before it dissipated, gone. Where the blast struck, buildings still stood. Shielded electronics still functioned, barely, coping as if they were hit with a sudden winter that quickly thawed. Within the radius of the blast, nothing survived- no people, no animals, no plants, no microbes. Nothing. Of the millions caught in the blast radius, only around the edges did decayed and desiccated corpses remain, a look of shock and horror etched into their faces. Closer to the center, only dust blew in the chill wind. The Force rent felt at Dantooine and then Kashyyyk was nothing compared to the Hunter's Ritual being committed in the midst of a fully populated planetary metropolis, and that cry echoed across the Galaxy. Aboard the Megiddo Faust was laughing as he fed, feeling the stolen energies return to him. The power, the life was so sweet! He drew the energy in, prepared to fire another round at the planet below when the price came. As if doused in liquid hydrogen, he froze, feeling the cold numbing spread from head to toe. The raw hunger in his being was filled, only to renew itself a tenfold. The Dark Side was fed... and it grew within the Hunter, upping its price for power. Faust knew he would never regain the sense of touch in his being- he was immune from pain, pleasure, warmth, cold, and everything in between- still mortal, still flesh, still vulnerable, but numbed forever by the power within him. Locked into his seat, he felt the strain of his earlier wounds heal once more from the stolen life energies in the Force, his own blood drying on his face. If he could still feel, he would have felt vapors of blood in the air condense on his skin and turn into drips within the sealed chamber. Exhausted beyond measure, the Hunter did the only thing he could do- he passed out. Commander Melfis Druger was numb in a different way. While not Force sensitive at all, regarding it as at first superstition, then some weird trick of biology and mental energies, he felt what happened. His whole crew did. Faust's guards in their Vaderlike suits had retched in their fancy armor. They would have been driven to tears had their conditioning and training not gave them a fear of weakness like that. In a voice barely above a whisper, Commander Druger gave the command to make the pre-arranged jump to hyperspace to arrive at their set coordinates. Solemnly, the crew obeyed and the three ships were gone, leaving Kuat behind.

Faust all but ignored Fett as he blasted himself to the deck below. The wave of blackness connected with Aryian Darkfire. The black pits that were the Hunter's eyes did not glow, nor widen, but somehow deepened, as if the infinite void somehow spread further. "The end is here, Darkfire." Faust felt a euphoria wash over him, draining the life energies of his as the Force nova met Faust's life drain. For a moment, the Hunter was completely filled, sated, and the energies kept coming. Darkfire was wrong on a single point though- Faust was in no danger of being consumed, for the Hunter's channel to the Dark was complete in that instant, and the Dark Side of the Force was always hungry, always ready to consume. Even as Faust used it to feed, there was always a price, a Nihilus event-horizon he called it, for as much as he consumed by drawing on the Dark Side to take for his own ends, the Dark Side drew in even more as well. That was a lesson Faust never, ever forgot. Even as a mere Force sensitive, as a ysalamiri-wielding bounty hunter he knew that truth. The Force was life itself, a peace, a unity that those fools called the Light SIde. Where in did the Darkness come? Pain, anger, suffering hatred, and endless stream from the same source: Where there was life, there was Death. Death and entropy were a natural and infinite progression that hungered, tearing down life and order- the essence of the Dark Side and its cause. He heard Darkfire claim to be born of all of those, to mouth the words, but Aryian understood nothing. Even as Aryian stole the life energies back to heal himself, Faust kept his own hatred cool and focused- not a towering, boiling rage, but the same chill contempt he always carried for weakness and fools, and he understood that no matter how much he or Aryian fed, the Dark Side was hungrier... or would be until Faust killed it himself. For now, he knew his hunger was greater than Aryian's, no matter the parlor tricks he played. He was about to call out Aryian on the trick he played, treating what Faust did as reversing a mere flow, a trick of simply reclaiming stolen energies. Faust knew better. He was going to use that Force nova and open a wound in the Force that would consume everything around them, all but leveling and leaving lifeless this part of the shipyard. The energies built, and the blackness in his eyes deepened to where the blackness almost looked like it would spread. And then the warning came with barely any time to react. Faust leapt backwards, not even knowing why, his prescient senses screaming. A disruptor bolt tore through the floor, passing millimeters from the Hunter's face as he leaned backwards, the Force aiding his jump. Faust watched the floor disintegrate under him, and saw Aryian fall, rocked by the forces of a concussion grenade. Faust landed with a crash on his knees and one hand, his lightsaber driven into the ground. He wanted to slay them, wanted to kill them.... And then realized if he had undertaken that nova born wound in the Force, the Megiddo and its crew may not have escaped the radius. Growling, and knowing the danger inherent in pursuing a foe such as Fett, even with more Kuat Drive Yard troops and possible CoreSec agents on the way, Faust retreated, running at top speed, through a connecting portal and into the Megiddo, letting it seal behind him and the last of one of his Vaderguards, disengaging away from the KDY. His first act aboard was to comm his commander. Throughout the raid, Druger acted with competence, watching as the Ragnarok, and the Apocalypse retreated away, ready to make a jump, but holding down suppressive fire to give the Megiddo time to clear. Now Faust was aboard, and they could escape after one final test. The Bhelliom, which had been running interference through the fight, was also docked aboard. "Commander Druger, do not let Fett or Darkfire come aboard! I do not care if you have to nuke part of the Yards or even part of the ship. I will be using the meditation chamber now to test what this ship can do. Take us away as if we were about to escape, but use the slingshot effect of the residual gravity to bring us into position. I want a clear shot at the world below, ingoring the shipyards." He regained control of himself as he made his way to the meditation chamber, the cool hatred building in power and purpose. He had conducted Rituals on Dantooine and Kashyyyk to perfect the technique and feed. Now, Kuat would be next, and this time instead of thousands, it would be millions.

Faust slowly approached the two entangled foes, hearing Darkfire as he crashed bodily into the wall, and then into Fett. The Hunter's laughter echoed down the corridor . There were other presences on the edge of his awareness, but they were of no moment. He nears the corner, purposely dragging his sword and lightsaber against the metal of the walls, sending out a steely scraping sound and sparks. His hand once more strayed down to his disruptor pistol silently, even as he scraped the walls, clenching it in the same hand as his sword. Even with his showmanship, Faust still appreciated an element of surprise in his attacks. "Fett... I know you would insult me by calling me a demagol... and insult me you do... Demagol's 'crimes' as they are dubbed pale before what I have done until now and what I am about to do. He was but a babe, and yet Mandalorian Warriors curse in his name. Generations to come may yet rue my name, if I do not destroy your race root and stem." Faust's maniacal laughter reaches its peak as he stepped around the corner to end Fett and Darkfire, He leveled his pistol at Fett, knowing with the ysalmari him to be the greater danger. Darkfire's appearance could only be described aptly as him looking like Hell. "So long, Fett, Darkfire! May you be consumed by everlasting night!" As Faust prepared to squeeze that trigger, he heard a cry of now, and his eyes gazed at the bulkhead as it started to open. His presence screamed danger, suddenly silenced as Fett threw a metal case at him... the ysalamir! The bulkhead's opening was slowed, straining by the field of energy Darkfire emitted on the electronics, once more giving Faust a window. The Hunter reacted, all but shooting from the hip- not at Fett, or Aryian, but the control panel for the bulkhead door. It opened, but halted in the middle, barely a meter across, bottlenecking his attackers. Where the control panel was, remained a hole a third of a meter in diameter in the wall. Faust dropped into a crouch. He did not have the Force to aid his parries of the oncoming shots, but they weren't needed with the tight area from which the attacks were concentrated. He was not unwounded from the attacks, as there was more than blasterfire in the soldier's assault and more than he could dodge or parry. He almost grinned at the boldness of the move, his sword making a powerful upsweep to slice the protected ysalamiri case and its living cargo in twain. Once more he took the sonic shot dead on, and while he could have activated his own sonics to try and null it, there was not sufficient time. Falling to one knee, Faust's eyes, for a moment normal with their whites and the coloring from the ysalamir bubble, turned back to a solid, glowing blue, then black even as they once more bled. The black was not a glow, but like two pits, void of light, as if staring into the essence of the Dark Side of the Force itself. That gaze drifted over Fett and Darkfire. "Bold, Mandalorian, but you have failed." Just as Fett's luma dart illuminated everything, Faust's attack drove a cloud of darkness, and in that same moment, obscured all light. Faust's attack was the same as before when he cleared out the corridor to make way for battle. There were short, hard screams, abruptly cut off from the other side of the narrowly opened bulkhead door, leaving no guesses what happened to those brave soldiers. Faust rose to his feet, and while splattered with blood and gore from his meatshield before, he looked whole and hale once more. "And now... it ends..." Black tendrils extended from Faust in a torrent, aiming to take Darkfire and Fett whole... and with that a fate worse than death.

Faust continued his hasty but backwards retreat, away from the radius of the thermal well. His experience with thermal detonators made him all too familiar with the destructive capabilities of such charges laced with baradium. Anticipating attacks by Force users, Faust chose not to arm himself with the devices, having remotely activated deadmen's switches himself in the past. He knew they were a foolish chance to take now, but for the moment regretted not having them on his person. He holstered his disruptor pistol, ready to draw another weapon. As tendrils of Force energy wrapped around him and threw objects in the path, the Hunter stumbled. The attack was powerful, but unfocused, wild. Faust grinned, knowing that wild energy burst was no more than the tantrum of an angry child, and one that once more provided him more opportunities than danger. Physically snatching a corpse out of the air as it was hurled at him, he raised it in his left hand, his mechanical one, and used the lifeless body as a human shield. It stood between the Hunter's eyes and the luma dart, keeping him from being completely blinded. Against the unseen sonics the corpse did nothing for protection and Faust took a direct hit. The rest of the armored body was torn to pieces by the laser and missile fire, exploding into heated chunks of gore, spraying the hallway read and giving off the stench of burned meat. Faust used sonics in his custom lightsabers and took pains to shield himself from the spread of his own weapons, mitigating the worst of the impact. Faust whipped his head to shake away the blood dripping from his nose and eyes- his own blood as a courtesy of Fett's sonics, and clenched his grip around the now flaming, missile-blasted corpse, feeling his hand seize up. The cybernetics that passed for nerves within it were telling him his hand would pass for being on fire with third degree burns if not for cybernetic the make of it and armoring around it. He let the corpse go and drew one if his blue lightsabers, advancing towards Fett. By this time, the remaining servants of the Hunter retreated fully, clearing the way to the Megiddo. The other two ships had cleared the docks and were slowly making their path away from the shipyards, ready to make the jump into hyperspace, raining fire on the defensive cannons and ships to better avoid being damaged. That corpse still served its purpose, and it provided Faust what he needed most: a moment to concentrate. Still maintaining that psychic connection with his attacker, he sent the message back within a split second, along with a gift of his power to educate the fool. You're nothing but a child playing with fire, boy! Fire was not what Faust had in mind, even as he felt the smoldering hatred of his foe. He felt out the location of Darkfire through their connection in the Force and knew his attacker was close, boiling with rage. He knew Fett retreated around a corner to evade the unexpected blast and knew where the absence in the Force was from that ysalmari. Fett was determined in his icy, stern fashion to bring the Hunter down. He would make a union of ice and fire in a glorious song of body on bodily harm. Drawing on the Dark Side, and fueled by the power of the souls he absorbed, he attacked Darkfire in what would be a powerful one-two punch of Force powers: A telekinetic blow to lift him off his feet and slam him straight past the corner of his adjacent hallway straight into a wall, then a second even stronger blow with enough physical momentum to carry the fallen Jedi past the ysalmari's shield and slam the idiot bodily into Fett. Once the two were tangled, and Darkfire's powers nulled within the Mandalorian's ysalmari sphere, between the Hunter's sword and lightsaber, there would be a great bloodletting as he finished two more of his most persistent foes.