Bishop Of Battle

*Hours passed motionlessly in the wastes of Aracoun Morion. Suddenly movement and grating broke the stillness. With a final push of energy, a giant boulder dislodged itself. Bishop stood and wiped the blood away from his face. Pinned between that boulder and the other fallen rubble from the cavern, he had just finally regaind conciousness. He glanced around to get the time of day, and realized precious time had been lost.* "Hm... perhaps I might actually need all eighteen hours to finish this." *He mused over the thought as he moved on. His body hurt but he pushed it down, converting it into raw energy that drove him on to complete his objective. From his gathered materials and the force signatures he could sense, he realized he had almost collected all of the parts. However, the last bags were far from eachother, and he would have to keep moving to reach them all in time. He found the next two without incident. Handling a pair of wild animals at the first to collect his earnings. Moving on to the second one he glanced at the sky. The sun was half way through its decent to the horizon. Running he reached the next location. This bag wasn't guarded by any visible enemies. Instead it sat on a pedestal. A pedestal suspended on a small platform in the center of a boiling tar pit.* "Heh, easy enough." *Taking a few steps back, Bishop jumped. He used the force to propel himself through the air, easily landing on the small stone surface. As soon as he land he felt the ground shift, it began sinking down - and fast. He called the bag to his hand as he lept again. In mid-air he felt something coming towards him. He pushed himself to the side as a giant, green scaled, snake-like creature snapped at him from out of the tar. It's teeth clamped shut where he had been moments before. Suddenly a second followed it up, reaching for where he was now. Curling into a ball he let it take him into its mouth. Grabbing the inside of the creature's jaw, Bishop felt it dive back under the tar. He held on for his life as it began swimming, flicking with it's tounge in an attempt to dislodge him and swallow him. He reached out and touched the simple creature's mind. He made it percieve the feeling of wrapping its tounge around him and pulling him down. As the body responded by swallowing he squeezed with the force, blocking its throat. Massive coughing chokes were heard as the beast tried to clear its airway. Almost immediatly Bishop could feel the creature head for the surface where it could open it's mouth and attempt to cough up the 'food' blocking its airway. As soon as the giant maw opened he lept out and to the bank. He walked on, leaving the creature choking and writhing in agony until it died. He collected his next pieces and concentrated on Hatred's force signature. He could feel one more. The object was far, but not so far that he couldn't reach it by nightfall. He started the last leg of his quest with mere hours to spare. After a long trek he found himself in a twisted maze of junk. Deceased and spare parts of Mechonaria littered the area. Among the piles of trash, wildlife had grown up. Together they formed immense walls. He began navigating the puzzle, searching for a way towards its center. After nearly an hour of searching he finally lept to the top of the wall. He spied what he assumed was the center and began leaping towards it, crossing sections of path at a time. Suddenly the ground beneath him exploded. He hurtled through the air, slamming into a section of wall and crashing clear through it. He shook himself as he looked skyward and saw the awsome shape of a Mechonaria Destroyer. Suddenly his legs found speed as he dodged out of the way of a blast of electric like energy from a Spiral Wave Emitter. It crackled into his old standing spot as he hurried away. Soon he heard the wine of engines from several Enforcers and Hunter/Killers that joined in the persuit.* "This is just not my day..."

"Yes master." *Bishop set out on his quest to find the pieces of his lightsaber. Eighteen hours would be more than enough time he rationalized. Leaving the building he set out upon the wastes around him. Opening himself to the force he easily located the first set of pieces easily. Hatred's presence was abnormally strong there, offering him a place to get started on his search. He doubted the others would be so easy to find. With no resistance other than the landscape he traversed, Bishop found the first small leather bag of parts. Unthinkingly he grabbed it off the pedistal it lay on. The click following was what alerted him to his errors. His first instinct was to duck low, which he did, and he felt a thin fiberous dart pass harmlessly through his long hair. Next he lept, barrel rolling between three more metal shards. He allowed his momentum to swing him low on his feet and then propelled himself up and out of the danger area.* "Well, perhaps this will be slightly more difficult than I thought... ten hours at most." *Bishop nodded to himself as he walked away, confident in his skills. The next location was not far by any means, so he jogged the distance. Coming upon the next item, left out on a small stone pallate, he approached it more carefully. He was about three feet away when his Sith sense started tingling. Jumping and spinning he lashed his leg out, smashing his foot into the head of some wild cat that inhabited the landscape. It snarled as it was shot to the side and lept back. The cat was probably rare to the planet. Probably rare period. Any Zooologist probably would have killed to get their hands on the feeline. But none of that bothered Bishop as he brought both of his hands back and then slammed them forward, palms first. The Force lashed out through his appendages and slammed the cat in the face and chest. Its jaw ripped clean off and its rib cage collapsed as it was sent hurtling through the air and impaled itself on a rock outcropping.* "Dogs are so much better than cats." *Turning away Bishop picked up the slightly elongated prize. Reaching out he felt the next one, a bit further this time. He began climbing the small cliff between him and his destination. A half hour later he moved on the new spot and found it unguarded by trap or prowler. He moved on yet again. He proceeded as such, collecting pieces for the next few hours. Nothing much special happened and he was beggining to get bored with the whole situation. Passing by yet another point he lifted his arm to call the bag to him. It lifted in the air as he continued walking, not even turning to look at it as it came towards him. Suddenly he stopped as he realized it hadn't come. He was turning as a Worker Drone fired its single laser at him. He dodged the blast, tipping slightly as it raced past his shoulder and then leapt behind a rock as a second blast arced towards him. He could hear the Mechonaria clacking towards him on its spider like legs, his target hooked on one armlike appendage. Gathering his energy he lept straight over the rock. The machine tried to raise and fire at him, but by the time it had lifted Bishop was on its back. He grabbed with one hand to steady himself. He placed a foot to brace against it's head and hauled back with his right arm. Without thinking he musted energy into a ball in his hand which he slammed down through its carapace. Leaping away the energy exploded, dissolving the machine's innards to nothing. He bent down and picked up another bag which he put with the rest.* "Spiders..." *An image of a spider, a spider from a dream, flashed in his mind. He shook it off without another thought. He proceeded to the next point and delt with a similar worker droid. Glancing up at the sun he realized it had moved farther than he expected. By his estimates, he would have to finish before nightfall so that he could make the treck back to Hatred and still get there in time. Picking up his pace he moved to the next, then the following, and yet another. He was approaching the next site when he immediatly realized something was wrong. The bag was in a small cave with only one entrance. He glanced in and then walked hesitantly forward. As he lifted the bag to put it with the others he heard the machines whir up behind him. He spun to face the Hunter/Killer that came to life behind him. As he faced it, the Mechonaria fired off two of its Tracker Missles. They raced towards him sequentially, their jets pushing them faster towards him. He twirled sideways, his left hand coming up, flat palmed, to guide the first missle straight past his body, the force creating a one inch cushion to protect it from exploding. He continued the twist and lifted his right hand. With a guesture the second missle was turned back on its sender. It exploded on impact, desimating the robot and cracking the stone around it. Bishop smiled until he heard the second missle explode behind him. The crack of rock was allready audible as he turned to look at the splinters making their way across the ceiling. Running he dove for the entrance as everything began collapsing around him and he was enveloped in darkness.* OOC: *Dramatic TV voice* Is this the end of our hero? Will he survive this cataclismic collapse? Find out next time on the next post! *Music plays*

*Gently Bishop felt Tarrian touch him through the force, assuring him that she and Kaylynn were allright. He let the part of him that had been worried relax. He contemplated asking to go see them, but she had allready started her way towards Sauron. He would let it go at that. For now he had to finish his lightsabers. They were almost to their destination anyway. Soon he would be done and he could talk with Tarrian.*

*Bishop nodded, smiling that he was now recieving the praise he deserved. Following Darth Hatred he closed the forge room door behind them. They began walking towards another part of the temple.* "Master, what shall you wish of me when I finish my training?"

*Encasing his crystals in one last coat of material, Bishop willed the pressure around it to increase. He squeezed the gems, hardening them in the heat. The blood on his hand and arm had thickened and crusted just like the blood on his face. His visible appearence was disgusting but he didn't notice as he remained focused on his task. Upon completing that he focused at the energy of the crystals. He took his hate, his anger, his essance, and used it instead to fuze the crystals with more power. He could feel them growing in power. They filled and threatened to burst yet he continued on, confident that his seals would hold. They were filled with his hate for the Jedi, the anger for Tarrian being taken, his contempt for the weak. Raging with his emotions they glowed inside the forge. Finally he cut the link and sighed.* "Welcome to the forge master." *He whispered the comment only moments before the door to the room opened and Darth Hatred stepped into the heat. The forge opened up and the two crystals floated to Bishop's outstreched hand. They landed but did not burn, in fact they were cold to the touch. The shells of the crystals were clear but on the inside his blood cast a crimzon glow throughout. It created a seemingly random pattern throughout, as veins of blood twisted around those of glowing energy which had manifested themselves during the last step. The two substances would act as conductors for the energy channled through them. Turning to face his master he almost fell. He caught himself and forced himself up straight. He suddenly felt extremely drained. A pit appeared in his stomach that threatened to swallow his entire being and his mouth turned cottony. His skin was hot from the forge and his clothes were soaked in sweat, though it was apparent he had sufferred from lack of water and stopped sweating a few hours before. He rubbed his eyes which were slightly sunken into his face from dehydration. Shaking his head to try and clear the distortion he forced himself straight as he found himself starting to slouch and walked towards the Sith that now waited for him. Normally Bishop would have noted the small amount of groggyness that his master displayed, but in his state the small details passed him by. Darth Hatred instead appeared as confident, strong, and impressive as ever.* "I have completed my crystals master." *Bishop held up the two crystals in his right hand, the crusted blood from where he had slashed himself providing a resting place for the two objects. He smiled through his exhaustion as he thought of the pain he would cause with his lightsabers.*

*Turning the crystal over and over in the forge, fueling it with power, Bishop felt his senses focus and hieghten to a magnitude they had never reached before. He could feel everything around him and even things far removed. He could feel the pain, death, and destruction occuring on Naboo even from their remote location. Innocent souls forced into terror. Their lives extinguished like candle flames. He could feel Tarrian's missing presence. In the back of his mind he had felt slightly the figure that had came for her. Then he had been nothing more than any other person walking the halls of Aracoun Morion. But then Tarrian's presence had dissappeared almost completely. However the connection they had could never truely be severed by an outside source. He had felt her slightly as she left the atmosphere. It had occurred to him to go, and yet he was compelled to stay. The frustration of not being able to follow mounted. He took that frustration and he channled it. He applied it to creation of his crystal. The blood that had flowed from his nose had stopped and crusted over as a black, cracked smear across the middle of his face. His muscles tensed and tightened as he focused his mind and body to the task. Like an extention of his own body he pumped it full of blood. All of his thoughts. All of his emotions. Everything passed from him to it. He opened his eyes and found himself standing closer to the forge than when he had started. Still staying focused on the creation of the crystal he observed what had happened. His palm was ripped open and the blood flowed freely down his forearm as he held it up to view. Boiling and blackening, drops were visible on the corner he had slashed himself upon and in an open section looking into the forge. Spatters of blood baked themselves solid and nearby he saw, quite to his own suprise, his two crystals as they had been formed thus far. On the inside, still liquid, still bright, untarnished by the heat, he could see his blood where he had poured it into them and formed the protective shell encasing it. The crystals were now truely an extension of his own body. His sabers would reflect that.* "Excellent." *The sight infused him with new vigor as he shut the forge and willed the crystals into the hottest of the fires. He was not sure how long he had been there, he had lost all track of time in his focus, and he was not sure how much longer it would take but he knew he was at least half done.*

*Scowling as he forced himself up, he held his stomach. Bishop made his way half blind to the center of the room where he stood, rather than sat. He straightened up, feeling the constricting pain in his gut want to bend him back over. Shaking his head violently he cleared the blood from around his eyes, sending splatters onto the ground where they steamed from the heat around him. His breath came in raggedly, the burning sensation making it hard. He wasn't sure, however, whether it was the burn of pain or the burn of the heat around him. Sweat was allready glistening on his face and threatened to roll down. He rotated his head around as he held his body stiffly, popping the joints in his neck. He could almost feel his past, see the things around him, smell the air, and taste the flavor of their scents.* "The Jedi..." ----------------------------- *Out among the freezing wastes of Ilum, Bluedust offered his "tutalage" to Bishop, Tares, and Angelia. Dutifully he lifted the boulder over his head that Bluedust had provided them. The boulder was heavy, but not hard to lift. Not for him. The fire was small against the wind, but not too hard to maintain. Not for him. The cold was stiffening, but not enough to kill. Not for him. He half smiled as he held the boulder, maintained the fire for the three of them, and blocked the cold wind. Angelia was there, but she was week. He had doubted her ability to do it from the beggining. And Tares, he was more capable but he focused entirely on the boulder, leaving the rest for Bishop. And Bludust. Out of the corner of his eye, Bishop watched Bluedust get into a nice protected tent, where he undoubtably climbed into a nice warm sleepingbag. He did not train hard when they were padawans. He did not train now. He did not deserve the ease for which he rested. He was arrogant, he was foolish, and he was weak. He deserved the hate which Bishop brought against him.* "... deserve..." ----------------------------- *In the council chambers on Coruscant, Bishop stood with his friends. The great Jedi Master Blckclone looked down upon them. They had been knighted and now their first mission was to be given. Eagerly the accepted. Together they went to explore the slave trade. There they were ambushed. Talon, Bluedust, and Searcy were all taken that day, leaving only Tarrian and himself alive to report back. Blckclone had sent them there. The mission had been of his design, he had not informed them of the dangers and the threats that were there. If it were not for his bad judgement then they would not have been forced to suffer through that. He was wrong, he was incapable, he was weak. The hate burned for him too.* "... my..." ----------------------------- *Seeing his ship land, Bishop set down the boulder that he had been lifting. He still maintained a control on the fire and wind, not wishing to leave either Angelia or Tares without it. Sly walked from the opening beneath the craft where they greated and then began to talk. Sly had brought him his ship from Midsengard, but he brought more than that. He brought news. Tarrian was dead. Darth Sauron had killed her. The rage boiled from just that thought alone, but as Bishop confronted her killer he was faced with another Sith. His apprentice. Tarrian. Sly had lied. He had told him lies. He had caused pain and distress that had sent Bishop raging across the galaxy from one place to another. He was a lier, he was impudent, he was weak. Hate burned especially bright for him.* "... hate." ----------------------------- *Before him the mass of memories coupled with his hurt and injuries alonn with the sting of sweat mixing in his wounds created a pain darker than anything he had felt before. The hate fed and boiled from it, guiding his control of the force. In the forge before him, his crystal began to take shape. The heat fused the bits together piece by piece. His clothes stuck to him against slick sheets of perspiration. He continued to work.*

*Forcing mouthful after mouthful of the vile taste down, Bishop slowly but surely makes his way through the platter. Only once did he feel his stomach try and regurgitate the mass, but he kept it down. Finishing he dropped the fork and it bounced into what remained of the pooled blood and tipped out of the tray onto the table.* "I am done master." *Looking down at him, Hatred smiled wickedly and shook his head, his eyes looking back towards the tray. Bishop turned back and eyed the redness still before him. He took a deep breath then lifted the platter, tipping it ever so slightly against his face he let the blood drift ever so slowly into his mouth. Suddenly he felt Hatred's hand against the back of his neck while the other one grabbed the tray and tipped it yet higher. The onrush forced him to guzzle down the blood faster. But even the increased swallowing was not enough. His mouth filled with the dog blood. Excess trickled down his cheeks in rosy rivlets. Finally he relented, taking the platter and setting it down on the table. Shuddering slightly as the copper taste settled in his stomach, he stood. Their eyes met. Bishop licked his lips. Drawing his hand accross his cheeks he removed the excess blood, leaving slight red smears, and then licked his fingers clean. Hatred smiled. Bishop smiled back.* "Now I am done master. Let us begin the creation of my crystal."

*Leaning back slightly at the sight of the 'meal,' Bishop looked it over. The sight of the dogs guts were very obviously from Tarrian's dogs that he had killed the other day. However the sight of them didn't bother him as much as the thought of killing them the other day. Almost as if overnight he had become more Sithlike, less caring. In his mind he saw a spider briefly, though he was slightly confused from where it had come from. Brushing it from his mind he picked up a fork. The idea of eating dog entrails bothered him almost as much as the idea that they were from Tarrian's dogs. He watched Hatred take a bite and swallow it down.* "As you wish master. After all, food is food." *The comment, made to show that he realized where the guts came from and that he 'didn't care,' had to be backed up by actions. As smoothly as he could manage without hesitating he reached out and stuck a piece near where Darth Hatred had gathered a bite. Blood dripped out of it onto the platter and he leaned forward slightly and brought the piece in towards his waiting mouth. Showing no visible signs of disgust he placed the morsal there and began to chew. Despite his rationalizations to himself that the dog wouldn't taste that bad after the fact, he realized he was wrong. Dog meat might have tasted allright, but their entrails were something else. Swallowing and shaking his head slightly at the taste he went for another bite, forcing himself to swallow it as well. Images of Tarrian popped into his mind but he pushed them back. He knew it was going to be a tough meal.*

*A half second before the sudden outburst, Bishop woke from his dozing sleep. His eyes opened then were forced to blink shut as the door exploded inward, sending splinters everywhere. His first reaction was to jump up and grab the lightsaber near him, but even amongst the chaos he could sense Hatred's energy behind it. So instead he remained in his position and watched the Sith Lord walk into their room and demand he follow him. The door reconstructed itself on his way out. Tarrian was looking up at him.* "Back to the coal mines I guess. I will talk with you more later Tarrian, when we have some time for ourselves." *Briefly he kissed her forhead, wondering how his master would react to such a show of effection, as he stood and walked towards the door. Quite less dramatically than the last entrant, he opened the door and walked into the hall.* "Overly dramatic Sith Lords." *Walking briskly and feeling energized from his somewhat short sleep he made his way to the dining hall. He entered and found Darth Hatred there waiting for him.*

*Bishop nodded, the begginings of a friendly smile on the corners of his lips. Silently he moved back to the bed and lay down next to her. Taking her he rested her head against his chest and stroked his hand along her long hair.* "Sleep Tarrian, you need your rest." *After a few moments he could tell she was asleep. He stayed there motionless for several minutes, thinking of her. Thinking of their child. Thinking of his chosen path. Finally he let himself drift off to sleep with her.*

Double post. I'm sorry. Someone beat me with a noodle.

OOC: You can't sue me! I'm practically family! If you do I'll revoke privilages... *Bishop's eyes dropped as her accusation hit him. She was right. He had killed them. He stood and let the blanket fall onto the couch. The chilling smile that had been spread on his face faded away as he stood and started his way towards her. She rolled away from him and closed her eyes, leaving him doubting himself and standing in the center of the cold room. He glanced down at his hands in disgust, then back up at her back.* "Tarrian... it was Hatred's wish. You asked me to make a choice. I made my choice. To be here with you, to be one of the Sith. And if I am to do that then I imagine there will be things I must do that I don't wish to do. That is part of the training. That is part of the dicipline. That is part of the respect. If I don't do those three things then I cannot be here with you and I cannot be here with the Sith. That is something you should have realized by now." *The cold undertone in his eyes soften as she turned to him, a somewhat hurt expression masked by her own self control. Her tear remained on her cheek, unquenched. He sat down on the edge of her bed and reached out to wipe it away, but she flinched angrily before him. Sighing he let his hand drop to his lap.* "Look... I am trying to be here for you. Hatred was controlling them, he forced them to attack me. I tried not to kill them, and I succeeded for over two hours. But finally the exhaustion took its toll." *Unconciously his left hand reached around and gently glided over the long gash on his back. It hurt when he touched it, but he didn't show her the pain.* "If I hadn't done what I did then they would have eventually killed me. He wasn't about to let up until I killed all of them. I..." *Struggling with the words he paused. Hesitating he reached down and found what he needed to say. He closed his eyes and looked away from her.* "I'm sorry Tarrian." *Standing he started moving towards the door. He doubted she still wanted him there.*[/i]

"Yes master." *Bishop nodded an extra confirmation as he turned and walked as upright as he could manage from the arena floor. As he left he saw two figures conversing with Sauron as he overlooked the carnage below. Pausing at the edge of the floor he turned back once more to view the dismembered bodies of the dogs that Tarrian had worked to tame. He shook his head and left, heading for their quarters. He opened the door and hesitated. He hadn't expected Tarrian to be there, but somehow she had ended up there. Perhaps Sauron had brought her back from outside. She wasn't laying quite right so chances were she didn't place herself there. He dropped her lightsaber onto the night stand next to her and showered briefly, letting the water wash away the dirt and grime. Yet he still felt dirty. He made his way towards the bed and then paused. He watched Tarrian's silent face as he thought about the dogs that he had been forced to destroy. His head dropped slightly and he shook it. Taking a pillow and a blanket he streched out on the couch and went to sleep.* -------------------------------- *Standing in the shower Bishop let the warm beads fall accross his body. Small rivulets formed, carressing his shape. The white head of the shower dispersed pure streams of energy directly to his core, but his skin deflected it and instead it moved around his outside. Noting the amount of dirt still left on his body, he picked up a bar of white soap and began scrubbing at the dark patches of dust and black mud that seemed to coat his form. Lather formed and was rinsed away but the dirt remained. No amount of work was able to remove the dirt. Confused he turned off the shower and left. He opened the door and nearly collided with a figure on the other side.* Tarrian: "It is almost done." *Walking the arena floor he noted the bodies of the dogs he had killed. Standing among them was a group of Sith. He approached them and they spoke one after another. All eyes were locked on his.* Darth Sauron: "The darksides pull..." Darth Hatred: "... Is strong and you..." Barohm Zar: "... Shall sucumb to it." Lord Ar-Pharazon: "It's pull is..." Darth Heretic: "... Allready upon you." Kaylynn: "Fear it not." Tarrian: "You are becoming one with us." *Among the halls of the Jedi once more, Bishop passed through the now populated passageways. As he passed he reached for his lightsaber which he did not carry. Shaking his head in disgust he continued his walk. Everwhere he passed the lights dimmed around him and the Jedi's view was plunged into darkness. He made his way to the council chambers, and before the massive doors two young Jedi stood to block the way. Without slowing he used the force to lift them and slam them into the doors, pushing the doors open, and then flung them high into the air to let gravity do the rest. He walked into the center of the room and stood as if waiting for judgement. Each of the high council members, one at a time, slowly came forth from some back room and stood in his or her spot and looked upon him with dissapproving eyes. Then from the highest central seat the last council member emerged. And she smiled.* Tarrian: "It is complete." *The spider bite on his cheek glowed briefly as it faded. He raised his fisted hand and opened it to reveal the spider's body. The drained carcass deteriorated in his hand and blew away from some small draft. He dropped his hand and dust fell, spreading out into the air.* "I shall bring forth a new era for the Jedi. An era of death and destruction unlike they have seen to this day. Their defeat on Coruscant that led to their disgrace and flight to ice planet will be nothing but a moment in history compared to what I shall bring upon them. Fear all lightsiders, for you have seen naught but the begginings of Sith fury!" -------------------------------- *The pillow beneath his head shifted slightly as Bishop moved briefly in his sleep. His blanket was pulled up to his chin, leaving only his face uncovered. The air was calm and nothing but the ever present sounds of air circulators altered that stillness. From his sleep, Bishop smiled.*

*As fast as he could, Bishop threw up a force shield around him and cast the first wave of dogs away. He had no real problem with the idea of killing the dogs. They were nothing to him and were certainly no challenge. But Tarrian had taken so much energy and put so much into taming them. He wasn't sure what it was that had let her do it so naturally and quickly, but she had done it.* "Dumb dogs, why don't you back down for your own good..." *It had allready been two hours of turning them away, he was starting to get tired, and frustrated at trying to turn them away. Another pair of dogs lunged and he threw them sideways, sending them crashing into eachother in the air. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. He realized immediatly that exhaustion had taken a larger toll than he had origionally thought. One of the dogs had made his way in past his defenses and gouged him in the back. He allready knew it wasn't anything serious, but the suprise tore him back into reality. Without thinking he twirled Tarrian's lightsaber around, letting it flip over in his hand so the blade was pointing down, and he slammed it straight back into the dog as it came down from its leaping attack at his back. A brief yelp barely escaped it's throat as the tip of the lightsaber buried itself in the dog's chest. Wrenching it free, a newly determined look on his face. Another pair jumped, one on either side of him. To one side he flung out his hand in a palm strike position, the force flowing to cement the foot of space between bodies and slamming the dog back through the air. He spun fully and kicked the second dog in the side of the head as a third dog jumped. He ducked under it and then came up sharply, shoulder slamming into it's rib cage.* "Tarrian is going to be mad." *One of the dogs lepped at him, and rather than blocking it or dodging, he swung the lightsaber horizontally. With a simple push it fell to the ground as it reached him in mid air. It squirmed and huffed on the ground as it's severed trachea tried desperatly to suck down air. Finally the cartorized would kept the last of the life giving air from it and it died. The other dogs were beggining to circle now, blood crazed by instinctively warry none the less. Three lept almost at the same time and he slammed his fist into one of their throats, leaving it coughing and gagging, as his lightsaber cleaved the front legs off a second. The third he simply willed up into the air, slamming it into the ceiling. The legless dog fell to the ground and he stepped on its chest, letting his weight fall and crushing it's rib cage as he stared at the remaining group of dogs. The smell of burnt flesh was in the air, the blood on his back had dried to his skin and clothes. The animals were beggining to feel afraid. They could not smell his pheramones signaling any fear, and in fact they could almost feal the hatred and malice that was beggining to be directed at them. Yet spurned on by Darth Hatred's own powers, they came at him yet again.* "Your weekmindedness is why you are the animals, and I your superior." *Blinded by exhaustion which led to frustration and anger, he lashed out at the first dog that came within reach. Yet he did not stand in place as he did so many times before. He waded in among the few remaining dogs. Weilding with his left hand his entire control of the force he flung, snapped, beat, held, and choked the creatures around him. At the same time his right hand twirled a voilet-orange blur that spun about him seemingly at random but striking with precision. Finally the blade came to a stand still. It retracted into it's hilt as Bishop sat where he had come down to one knee. He rocked back, sitting on one leg and letting his hand come to rest on the upraised knee. He looked around coldly at the carcasses around him. Burned flesh was rotten on the air as he let his head drop against his hand and knee. His breathing was steady, but his body was exhausted. Shaking his head to clear the last lingering red clouds, he stood shakily. He could feel Tarrian outside. She had felt what had happened, but at the same time there was something else pressing on her mind. Right now he was too tired to tell what it was exactly. He would find out later.* "I am done - Master."

*As Hatred released Bishop from the choke he quickly regained his breath. Yet before he knew it Hatred and launched himself at him, attacking with his crimzon lightsaber. Bishop grabbed for his belt, but realized that he had still to replace his missing lightsaber with another. He dodged and the blocked the downward slash, letting Hatred's own momentum to help him carry him past. The Sith was extremely light on his feet and turned to continue the attack almost before he landed, but that was enough time for Bishop. He whipped his hand out to the side and from a dozen feet away, Tarrian's lightsaber flew to his hands. The violet/orange blade ignited easily enough, though it's general grip felt ackward in his hands. With little more time to contemplate it he was again attacked by his master. Only through the force and quick reflexes did he manage to block the incoming attacks. There were several times he wondered if perhaps the other was holding back as a hole in his defense offered Hatred a chance to strike. He gritted his teeth and fought back as best he could.* "Well at least this is a little more interesting." *Suddenly he felt a heavy weight slam into his chest, thgough Hatred had not struck him. He flew through the air and landed hard next to one of the dogs. It's rather passive demeanour changed in an instant and it barred it's teeth before leaping towards his throat. He pulled back his lightsaber reflexively to try and defend himself when it suddenly stopped in mid air. Glancing towards Hatred he saw him flick his wrist and the dog's growling ceased with a small snap and it fell to the floor. Having barely time to marvel at the power he suddenly felt himself pulled face first accross the rough arena floor towards Hatred. Grunting he pushed himself off the floor and whiped a small amount of blood away.* "Yes master." *Standing he readied himself as best he could for the next challenge.*

OOC: I never once said I hopped, what the hell? Crazy Siths. Nor did I embarrass the character, I embarrassed the writer of the post. Big differance. IC: *Bishop rubbued the section of his forhead that hurt and frowned.* "Well that was no fun. If there's going to be pain I'm fine with that, but it could be something at least a little more interesting to cause the pain."

*Bishop looks around as Darth Hatred waits for him to arrive on the floor. He looks down at the ground he's standing on. With a perplexed look on his face he looks around at the area around him that he's standing on. He thinks to himself.* But I thought I allready arrived on the floor... *Checks the ground again just to make sure he's standing on the floor. He stamps his foot on the ground a couple times.* "Yeah, I'm standing here. Is this not the right floor you wanted me to arrive on? Maybe this floor over here." *He walks over a few feet and looks towards Hatred, wondering if that is a better position. He gives a few other spots a test run too, seeing if any one of them pleases him any more than the others. Finally deciding that his Master really doesn't care he shrugs and gives up, going back to standing there on the floor he was allready standing on previously.* OOC: Sorry, in a jolly little mood today, so I had to make a joke out of pointing out that I had allready posted coming down to the floor.

*Glancing at Hatred as he walked away, Bishop wondered somewhat who he was. He looked familiar. Someone he recognized perhaps from a dream. Shrugging as he recieved Tarrian's force message he stood and followed his new master down into the arena.* I don't hesitate for anyone. I simply take my time. *He glanced around at all the pets that surrounded Tarrian as she bowed to Darth Hatred and then stood next to Sauron. He stood and glanced around at all of them in a relaxed position as Hatred took up position for whatever it was he was intending to work with him on. His eyes slowed on Darth Sauron for a moment though not for the same reason they had the other day. His mistrust for the man was virtually gone, and he was contemplating why this was so. Shrugging it off he turned his gaze to Hatred.* "I'm here."

*Standing from the bed as Tarrian left, he took a long shower. There was a scar where the lightsaber had been slammed through his torso, and it would probably allways remain there, and there was a slight line where his now cloned arm attached to his body. Letting the water soothe his skin he eventually forced himself from it's warm embrace. Dressing in a similar set of black clothes as he did yesterday. He finished lacing up the long black boots and reached for the nightstand where he normally kept his lightsaber. He frowned as he remembered he still didn't have one. Opening the door he stepped out into the hall. He could feel Tarrian's force presence not far off. He wanted to be closer though he also didn't want to interfere. After wandering around for a little bit he found a small overhanging porch that looked down into a huge arena. Leaning against the railing he watched Darth Sauron and Tarrian below him.*

*Even in his sleep, Bishop could feel Tarrian joining him in bed. And through her he could feel their unborn child in her own state of restfulness. There the three of them lay in their own states of sleep, dreaming their own dreams. Only the soft whirring of air circulators disturbed the silence of their room. They would sleep there till the following morning.* -------------------------------- *Bishop again found himself backin the Maw Installation medical bay. The medical bots remained motionlesss against the wall and nothing moved. He sat up off the table he was laying on and listened. There were no sounds. Not even the droaning sound of air being recycled around the station. He slid off the table and his boots sent reverberations around the room. Glancing around he realized he was shirtless and he looked down at himself. There was an ugly hole through the left side of his chest, no longer scarred and cartorized but the color of healed skin. His right hand was still the mechanical monster that he had been given at the sith temple, but patches of skin, complete with hair folicles, had grown through sections. He was stuck in some sort of limbo half-and half healing stage. Walking towards the doors his steps resounded as if amplified by a microphone. The doors slid open as he reached them and he faced a figure.* Tarrian: "It has allready begun." *Walking with quick steps, Bishop wandered through the capital city of Naboo. The Demons were there, destroying the buildings and killing the citizens. One stood slightly shorter than the others, but no less impressive. It swung it's staff of green fire towards him. Without flinching the blade passed harmlessly through him to decapitate another running citizen. He continued on his walk, passing through the fray without worry of injury. Beyond them he found the hanger where his own ship was docked. He looked at it with a peculiar love, but knew that in the attack it would be destroyed. He would have to procure another one. Walking on board he shifted through his belongings. Opening his closet door a small movement startled him. Looking down he saw a small girl standing there.* Kaylynn: "The pull of the dark side is strong. It is seductive. It is powerful." *The well educated voice didn't seem to match the physical age of the girl, but he passed it by without thinking about it. Turning from the little girl he faced Tarrian.* Tarrian: "You have felt its pull." *Reclining in his seat at the Last Call, Bishop finished his drink. Survaying the bar he saw no one he recognized. A few Bothans discussed something, probably something illegal, at a table a few feet from him. A smuggler and his counterpart slipped cash and instructions under a table. They thought they were being discreet, but it was obvious to the trained eye. They should have met in a restraunt and all cash and instructions should have been delivered as part of their tray of food hidden beneath it's cover from a waitress implanted in the restraunt's staff. Looking away from the novice criminals he glanced towards the bar where the bar tender was facing away from him, attending to some bar dutie. He waited for a few minutes, hoping she would turn and see his guesture for another drink, but when she did not he stood and walked over there. He pounded the mug on the bar table to get her attention.* "Hey, I need some more. Correllian Brandy." *The waitress turned and Tarrian's eyes locked with his. She held it for a moment as the sound from the rest of the bar faded entirely, leaving them in an eerie silence filled with silent movements. When she spoke her words cut through the silence like a knife. Her cut releasing the tidle wave of sound from its imprisionment behind a cloth of stillness.* Tarrian: "It is almost complete." *Feeling a pain in his cheek, Bishop swatted at it. The diseased, crinkled, and drained body of a large black spider fell to the bar table. It's inner juices fully drained through it's venemous bite. He rubbed the spot where it had bitten him before brushing it off the table and onto the floor.* -------------------------------- *In their room, Bishop rolled slightly and his hand came to rest slightly on Tarrian's hand as he slept. The whirring of air circulators continued their constant hum, undisturbing to the sleeping occupants of the room.*

*Thinking to himself as Tarrian spoke he felt a little odd. He thought he should be upset that she was saying their daughter should be raised as a Sith, but it really didn't bother him. It was quite a perplexing feeling. Pushing it aside he stood.* "Well then I guess this is where I will stay." *She was standing a bit uneasily as he took a step closer to her. Even with the odd look on her face he didn't pause as he gave her a hug. She didn't seem to know how to respond and for the most part just stood there.* "We're together again, and that's all I want. And this time nothing will get in the way of that." *He released her and stepped towards the bathroom.* "Anyway, I'm tired, I need to get some sleep. I'm still recovering from a rather savage lightsaber wound." *He cast her a dashing smile and winked before his head dissappeared fully into the bathroom.* "You're more than welcome to join me or go on back to Sauron and do whatever." *After cleaning briefly he slipped into bed and was asleep before Tarrian even had a chance to decide what she was going to do.*

*Holding up a drumstick, he offered her the piece of chicken. The look in her eye told him she didn't want it so he simply shrugged and took a big bite out of it. He let it drop back to his plate as he set it on the arm of the couch.* "My loyalties aren't to him. I have my own loyalties. I go where they go... and that's why I'm here with you. You and Kaylynn." *He reached up and placed a hand on her stomach where he could feel his daughter. After a moment she pulled away, walking a few steps before turning around. Before she could speak he interrupted.* "I follow you. If you choose to stay here then I will, and that should be good enough for him. Where you go I will go. If he has your loyalty then he has mine. I will train under the Sith if that is your wish for yourself as well."

*Trying to eat dinner the meal suddenly ends. His plate of food is litterally swept from underneath his hands.* "Hey..." Sauron - "Well, Bishop, have you decided on which path you shall take?" "Yes, my path is right into that kitchen to get my food back." *Bishop gets up and walks towards his food as it passes through a set of doors. After a few moments a high pitched scream is heard as Bishop dive tackles the woman that had carried his plate away. A half second later he walks back in with his plate and a few morsals he had grabbed off some other passing trays. Tipping his head ever so slightly to the side as he ate a piece of chicken, he thought on Sauron's question. Something was still a little weird about the Sith, but perhaps things would be clearer in the morning.* "I'm here, aren't I? I haven't made any attempt to escape, have I? Tarrian and Kaylynn are here, aren't they? I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be." *He nodded a goodbye to Sauron and headed towards the dining room doors that led towards the hall where Tarrian and his room was at. Over his shoulder he tossed a chicken bone onto the floor. Several of the strange walking wolves dove for the bone, fighting over it as their dog-like instincts kicked in. Finally the biggest one managed to get ahold of it and swallowed it. Later he would die of the chicken bone being stuck in his throat.*

*Again as Sauron greeted them Bishop felt a bit of uneasyness. Forcing it down he followed them to the table where many others sat. He noticed that Sauron made a point of placing Tarrian between them.* "Does he not trust me or something? Perhaps he feels the same as I do." *Shruggin it off he turned back to examin the other delegates from their various places that were at the table. After Sauron's brief speech Tarrian and him began to speak. Their tones were soft and low so he couldn't hear what they were saying, but he was sure it was about them and Tarrian's glance his way confirmed it. He sighed and went to it on his food. He was suddenly very hungry, almost as if he hadn't eaten in the last couple of days.*