Onderon

[Tenebris]

With unerring speed and accuracy, the CoreSec troops poured into the square, leveling fire at the cursed remotes that had thwarted every effort of Tenebris to subdue the Hunter's facsimile. A trio of scattered pops, punctuated by a chorus of blasterfire louder than he had been expecting, and their wreckage plummeted to the cobblestones. The Commissioner, seizing his discarded Onderonian garb in order to smother the remaining flames on the form of his lieutenant, cast a vague glance toward the palace in an attempt to pinpoint the escape vector of the madman who was escaping with Skye in his clutches. It was no use: his eyes were still adjusting after the brilliant burst of flame from the hoverchair.

 

Just at that moment, however, the familiar shape of the X4 Gunship crested the hill and paused above the palace for the span of fifteen seconds before it moved to hover above the square, its turrets and floodlights swinging to and fro as though daring Faust to come out and play. He was pleased to note that even following the unexpected detonation of the hoverchair, whatever electromagnetic pulse it may have generated was not enough to affect their communication systems.

 

"Chief, you alive down there?" The familiar voice of Mithwyr crackled with static.

 

"Barely," he coughed, turning a sooty face up to the sky. "You didn't happen to see where he took her, did you?"

 

"Into the palace, sir. He blasted a hole in the damn roof. Talia's rolling over in her grave."

 

"Patch into the whole squad and the Palace Guard. Set up a perimeter around the palace," he ordered swiftly. "No one in, no one out, unless I give the say-so. He's likely to be too at-home in there."

 

"Uh, Chief?" The Zabrak's voice was automatically apologetic.

 

A feeling of dread crept into the Echani's gut. "What?"

 

"The girl. Lux. She asked what happened. Wanted to do her part to help."

 

That was inconsistent with the quivering wreck Tenebris had watched depart the University in the aftermath of actions not his own. "So you put her on a turret?"

 

The silence of three extra seconds passed on the comm. "Uh, no, Chief. She wanted to go after him. Bee in her bonnet. We dropped her down the hole."

 

Oh, kriffing son of a...

 

-----

 

The Onderonian Palace Guard was efficient, militaristic in the speed at which they established the perimeter, several squadrons of men aided by the dozen or so CoreSec agents on the ground. Infrared scanners would be the first sign of an attempted escape. All inner security doors had been sealed strategically, and patrol droids and armed guards had been deployed, each with a live feed patched into the de facto mission control that they set up in the square outside. The computer systems of the Palace were being overseen by the director of security. Communications jammers had been set up, with no small reticence on the Commissioner's part, as he would now be unable to reach the headstrong Thyrsian. In short order, Tenebris' shields had been recharged, and he stood at the forefront of a dozen highly trained commandos, all outfitted with sonic dampeners after the report he had given on his showdown with the invalid in the chair. There was no indication he had brought any backup, but Tenebris could not honestly accept the idea that he had come alone, even with former acolytes to interface with. It was no small irritation that, had Lux not deigned to be a hero, they might have some alternative method of tracking down the whereabouts of Master Skye, and likely the Hunter as well.

 

He would just have to hope that her call for backup would yield a favorable result, or he might be here to collect bodies instead of information.

[Lux]

Oof!

 

The landing was rough, but the battle ready Thyrsian rolled with the energy of her descent and made it to her feet with only minor bruising. The hall was strewn with debris, but no clear sign of her target.

 

Mithwyr was surprisingly obliging to her outlandish request, but Lux didn’t leave room for complaint. Lorecait’s family was safe and after the Zabrak Officer finished reprising the situation, Lux was compelled to act. Was it hard-headed? Yes. Was it foolish? Yes. Was it impulsive? Absolutely.

But enough was enough.

 

Tenebris is gonna kill me.

 

He’ll live…

 

The dancer held her sword with a white knuckled right hand. The vibro-blade dipped a few millimeters toward the floor as she finished her roll, but the metal stopped just above the tile with the acrobatic grace of routine and practice. When she rose to her full height, she took off down the hall with renewed heat. Her movement would keep him on edge and would make her harder to hit. In the meantime, she was doing what she could to track him with the ability that Skye taught her. She opened her mind and tried to find the signal that the Jedi Master told her to find. The ‘bright light’ that she was expected to find before -- in the hallway outside Van Isel’s office. Vague stirrings threatened to re-emerge when she remembered that moment, but she fought the emotions that surfaced and channeled that energy into the fire of her rage.

 

Because that was her motivation. Rage. Rage for the fallen and rage for those threatened by darkness; for potential friends cursed with malice; for loved ones killed by phantoms; for those slaughtered without consideration or thought. These were the people she fought for. These were the people that she worked to aid. These were the people that demanded vengeance; justice.

 

Lucinda. Craig. Tenebris. Skye.

I won’t lose anyone anymore. I can’t. I won’t.

 

Lux’s eyes opened to the force’s grand performance, illuminating the levels that made up the palace structure in its entirety. Each landing was another stage. Each stage was filled with more actors, and each actor had his or her own glow. It was a little overwhelming to tap the ability after only minimal exploration, but anger brought an icy cold clarity to her search. Within moments, she pinpointed the Jedi Master’s energy and followed it with her mind as it moved through the halls.

 

I’ve got you, you kriffing son of a Hutt.

 

Lux took off down the corridor, her eyes peeled for surprises and traps, and her heart crying for Faust’s head.

Edited July 26, 2017 by Guest

[Sandy Sarna]

As the beeping of the hyperspace alarm reached its crescendo Sandy reached forward and pulled the hyperspace control lever, rocketing them into realspace in the system of Onderon. A few seconds later, the Griphook exited above them, followed by the Verdict and the Promise. The three corvettes formed an arc with the Griphook at the centre and Sandy brought their HWK-290 light freighter to the side of the Promise, making sure to not fly into the engine wash of the corvette and accidentally end the trip in explosive decompression. She activated the sensor sweep on the HWK and looked at the few lines of departing space traffic around the Onderon/Dxun exit vectors. No signs of any incoming or exiting Imperial or Sith ships. She reached out with her mind towards the planet but could not sense anything specific from the long distance so she brought her sphere of influence back in to the ship and let the force flow through her, refreshing her mind and spirit from the long hyperspace voyage.

 

She looked back towards her master and grinned. “Looks like we are clear of enemy ships for now, I can begin our transmission to Onderon Space Command outlining our mission details and requesting landing clearance if you would like.”

[Tobias Vos]

Vos leaned over the console, looking at the sensors for himself. Sandy was correct- so Vos re-sent a message to his staff out- as well as mission briefing. That was just to the ships, he looked to Sandy- "Send them a request for landing, and inquire about what time the bazaars open, if you get a moment. I would not hide the fact we are Jedi, should they ask. Depending on what answers we get- or if we're barred from the planet, we'll have to reevaluate."

 

His thumb hit the key on the datapad- sending the message through the crazy encryption the PIT Droids had set up to the other ships. As well as initiating a data-dump. Leaning his chin onto his right hand resting on the armchair- he gazed out into the distant moon and the sunlight coming through on the left side of the planet. They were in the Dark Side of Dxun too, so they would have to get going sooner rather than later, Faust would always have those crazed allies. Good think the Jedi did welcome him into their ranks, a shame this was happening too soon. Best to go in and see what goes on, cause some trouble, grab Faust, grab Skye, see what else the come up with- thats all Vos knew. They were running blind- and it did not hurt to be cautious.

 

((Before we start this-link to Jedi Forces loadouts.))

[Delta73]

The Marie and her assigned fighter and bomber escorts exited hyperspace over the ancient planet of Onderon. The black painted Corvette began to ping away with its advanced Pax Hustana sensor package in an effort to find and pinpoint any ships that could be labeled as hostile. Nothing came up immediately hostile, though a cluster of corvettes did draw his attention. Onderon space traffic control requested that they stand down their active arrays and power down the turbolaser batteries. Delta informed the commander of Onderon Space Command that they were not here to fight, but merely protect an asset from Jedi attack. They would not be firing into Iziz or any civilian ships. This seemed to satisfy them for the moment. Though Delta could not guarantee that space debris would not fall onto the world should there be a fight. The Marie began to charge its weapons and shields in preparation for a confrontation with any coresec vessels that might attempt to attack though there were none on scan. The scanner package began to feed Delta and the rest of the fleet a series of images and statistics of the distant ships as Delta began to transfer control of The Marie to the inbound AVATAR KAIN. He had his orders. He was to screen the fleet with the two wings of fighters and bombers, in case enemy reinforcements arrived. The rest of the overwhelming Sith forces would be quickly emerging from hyperspace, and if any battle occurred, there would be hell to pay.

 

He walked down to where his ARC was docked to the Marie and boarded it through the docking tube, greeting his crew as he buckled into the starfighter he had flown since training in the republic military. They were old ships, though having been rebuilt by the Black Sun and retrofitted with new weaponry and shields, not many were still seen in the galaxy. He believed the 12 that he was flying alongside were the last of their kind. As the docking tube detached he looked across the S-Foils to the overlarge cannons. Triggering the sensor jammers, he and his 12 ARC fighterbombers joined the rest of the starfighter wings.

 

 

To follow rules of the RP our forces have been rearranged to 72 starfighters and the two capital ships.

 

The forces under Delta were arranged as follows.

 

Delta’s ARC-170F Rebuilt Uriel

Black Painted

Armed with:

2x Proton Torpedos, 4 Diamond Boron missiles, 2 EMP/ION bombs

2x Forward Medium Laser Cannons

1x Rear mounted Laser Cannon

1x R4 Series Astromech (Nicknamed Mess)

1 Gunner (Nathaniel Burley)

1 Co-pilot (Caitlyn Liveria)

 

12 TIE Defenders, 24 TIE Interdictors established the space superiority wing. Classified as Grey Flight.

24 K-Wing Bombers and 11 Rebuilt Black Sun ARCs established the anti capital wing. Classified as Green Flight

 

For a total of 72 fighters including the Uriel.

 

The setup for the armament on the ARCs is here

 

[AVATAR Kain]

The St. Cathryne pulled out of hyperspace, immediately picking up several corvettes not assigned to the GA on the long range sensors. Kain called the ship and its sister ship to battlestations immediately, ready if necessary for a confrontation. Meanwhile, control of the group's starfighters was handed over to Delta. Unfortunately, during the hyperspace jump there was an uncharted small asteroid cluster drifting through the space lane, causing the immediate destruction of several of their starfighters, to include half the TIE Defenders they'd originally set off with and most of the Black Sun starfighter assets as well ((See Delta's post above for what survived)). No matter, they were still prepared for war.

 

Kain paced the bridge, eyes locked on the point in space where the three distant ships hung. Probabilities were high that they were an enemy force, though Kain was unwilling to make the first move on the off chance that he'd merely gain another enemy for the Sith. That would only hinder the Sith on their path to becoming the rising dominant galactic power. Instead, they would proceed towards Onderon at one half sublight speeds, monitoring the other ships carefully.

 

An encrypted comm message was broadcast to the surface of Onderon at a 'Luciferian Gamma':

 

 

The Sith have heard your call, and are here to assist. Keep us advised of the developing situation, transmit all relevant information to my ops officer on this channel. There is a chance we may be waylaid, but likely not for long.

 

[Sheog the Mad]

The Demented Madness slipped out of the embrace of the swirling lights of hyperspace above the planet Onderon, alongside the main fleet complimentary force. The massive Hutt could see the full array of the Sith Forces creating a defensive perimeter preparing for any form of interference. The Hutt’s crimson eyes scanned the blanket of stars that surrounded them, and watched the shadow of The Marie pass before him. The Corvette had been Delta’s flagship for longer than the Hutt had known him, but he had heard the stories of how it had gotten its name. His favourite told of a flirtatious barmaid named Kayla Marie who had flirted with Delta for years after the Clone Wars and had played him against other contenders for her hand, before finally marrying a rich diplomat that Delta had promptly tossed out an airlock. Why he named his ship after her The Hutt never could quite figure out, human emotions were a troublesome thing.

 

He relayed his transponder to Kain, a slightly modified copy of the transponder from Dahar’s Jedi Ace which had been hacked upon its surrender. It would allow for more discretionary action should any GA or Empire forces show themselves, at least buy him enough time to spring a trap. The Hutt let the systems of The Demented Madness fade behind the dampners he had installed and preset the sublight engines for maximum. The Luxury Assault Ship slipped silently off most sensor arrays as it made its way to the right flank of the Sith Forces, behind the starfighter screen and corvette. Sheog relaxed into his own meditation, allowing his sphere of meditation to grow with each of his blubbery breaths

 

<>

 

He could feel the sharp taste of the sparkingly strong flavour of Kain’s mechanical influence over the fleet, a neural network to draw all computer programs together. Upon this network, the Hutt began to sew threads of deepset hunger and greed, each mind beginning to unite in a common taste for warfare. Each mind would compliment the other, like the swarming hivemind of Piranha Beetles, to identify a target and devour it. Every pilot began to hunger for warfare, to thirst for the kill, for the adrenaline high of the fight. From his own oily fingertips, Sheog could feel the grip of hundreds of hands upon control yokes and firing arrays. A Sith Battlemind was formed.

 

His own insatiable hunger began to grow, and he began to allow threads of his ravenousness to reach towards the stars, and even to the nearby moon. He could feel a familiar presence, amongst the assembled fleet that was assembled before the. He had not felt the signature in the Force since his interactions alongside Furion on Spite Station. He had helped the man attack the Kiffar Sith, Lucifer many years in the past. The news of his turning to the Jedi had made him particularly irate.

 

Tobias Vos…

 

The massive Hutt reached through the force with his grasping hunger, and felt the man alongside the open mind of a young girl. Sheog immediately sent the alert through the Battlemind. He traced their presence to align with the sensorbanks readout of a HWK-290. He lit up the transport in the Battlemind, and to Kain’s AI, illuminating it for all pilots and Sith.

 

...These are the Jedi… Prepare for engagement…

 

If the Jedi enemy were to come, he would feast upon their will, to sap their strength and drain their resolution to fight. He would ensure their disjointedness, a brainfog of unyielding hunger. He could feel the mind of the girl far across the system, (Sandy), and pressed his hunger and avarice towards her vulnerabilities. She felt off, as if unstable in the Force. He touched each of the Sith minds about him, his troops below, their Tuk’ata, Kain, Delta, to Faust far below, and finally that of Ailbasí Zirtani, allowing them to assist in his efforts.

 

<>

[Sandy Sarna]

With the flick of her thin fingers Sandy opened a line of hail to Onderon Space Command and was just about to inquire about their attractions and local markets when the sensor suite near her left hand pinged once. Then twice. Then set a low tone, she rotated her wrist and accessed the display to bring it up on the HUD. A frigate, a corvette, and from the tone of the sensor suite a lot of fightercraft that could not yet be identified. She let a low gasp escape her mouth and she cut transmission to OSC. Though the Sensors did return the ship names attached to transponder codes nothing popped out at her until she felt a wrothful malevolence and undying hunger wash over their HWK freighter. She instantly withdrew from her connection with the force as the gnawing hunger passed over her body, reminding her all too well of her time on Thalassia.

 

When she poke her voice was a hoarse whisper, “The Sith hare here Master, and they brought a fleet.”

 

The power in the presence that she had felt initially scared her, but she remembered her training and slowly edged back into the force with her shields covering her mind and thoughts. She knew that intention when she had felt it. With a pull on the controls she brought the HWK into a steep bank towards the hulking corvette Griphook.

“What are our orders master?”

[Lusef Aryan]

Faust carries the unconscious Jedi Master over his shoulder, Geister's pack secured with Isel's damning notes and the artifacts he'd left in store. Sith amulets and artifacts attuned to Faust himself. they would be useful in keeping up the appearance of power as well as helping push through towards his one elusive goal. It was all about resonance at this point. Resonance and searching.

 

His trek through the Palace was the stuff of nightmares for anyone caught in his path. Using his second lightsaber, he didn't kill. That would have been too easy. He wounded and wounded terribly. A servant here, a functionary there. A guard too scared to draw timely. All took wounds into the chest cavity, debilitating, painful, and of the type that could be fatal if left untreated, totaling an even half-dozen victims in all. He descended further down, passing down towards where he knew the royal chambers were, only using his disruptor once to by-pass a major thoroughfare within the Palace and when he was sure it wouldn't bring the place down atop him and his prisoner. As Onderon had been the closest thing he had to a home base in his previous life, he knew the palace well and knew that all rulers, no matter how arrogant and secure, always had an escape plan. A tunnel concealed in the royal bedrooms would pass under, painfully near the crypts which could be an issue, and then lead on out to Iziz's outskirts. He was quite literal in his plans to go underground, knowing if that failed, his disruptor key could cut him a hole into Iziz's sewer system.

 

He paused. While hurrying, he knew he wasn't moving at top speed and swore he heard footsteps. Was someone bold enough to chase him? He paused, turning around, listening. Someone was tracing after him far too well. He knew the twisting and turning palace well. That same set of footsteps could be heard trailing after him for several long minutes. Either they were onto him, or they had a way to track him. That meant either the CoreSec officer planted something on him, or they sensed the artifacts or Skye. Grimly turning, he stepped into the throne room itself, not far from where he needed to be. If nothing else, he could use another connecting passage to get where he needed to go.

 

Standing before Onderon's ancient thrones, he waited for the follower to approach, knowing that whoever it was could likely ruin his plans as the last thing he needed was more CoreSec troops waiting at his exit point since his passage, while obscure was likely not completely unknown to the authorities. He still kept Skye carefully, even gently over one shoulder, knowing she could be a valuable shield to dissuade further attacks on his person. Upright, wearing his trademark white coat, and a face concealing mask, Faust knew the challenger would approach in a matter of moments, hearing the footsteps echo louder and louder.

 

He gave his lightsaber a sweep through the air, testing it, still mindful of his prisoner. If his challenger wanted a showdown, Faust was more than ready.

 

****

 

As Faust carried the unconscious Jedi Master, something was happening at a level that was neither physical or mental, but spirtual. She was still unconscious, unable to effect the waking world around her, but in that tracelike state forced by the Hunter's attack, something was manifesting.

 

The Galaxy stood before her, a spitting image of any good holographic map. Its stars twinkled bright against the void of space, as if she was offered a panoramic view of the entire thing. Everything could be seen from both arms, to the heart of the deep core and everything between. A sense of life and vibrancy could be felt as if it was more than a model, but a representation of the entire living breathing Galaxy within the Force.

 

"Beautiful in its own way." A voice could be heard observing. In that darkness of space, its owner slowly manifested. Its gender couldn't be identified. It sounded almost emotionless, save for a sense of overwhelming weariness and fatigue. The spirit manifested as a series of shrouded black wisps, a veritable wraith, vaguely humanoid in form. "We have an opportunity to talk, given your unique circumstances. Do not ask who or what I am. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." The tired voice continued. "The Hunter's malice, your enemy, must be stopped. I cannot help you out physically, but I can try to fill in what pieces you are missing to this puzzle. Our time is limited as the circumstances that allow me to manifest are fragile, so ask away."

 

*****

 

Tenebris' attack yielded one clue, hidden until now, something that could prove valuable later. A small object had fallen out of the pack when he'd caught it with his grapnel and it tottered on one of the Palace's high ledges, hidden. Shaken by wind, it tottered and fell. For the unfortunate Cochran, it landed right on his gut, winding the wounded officer and making his already terrible, bad awful day even worse. The artifact, one of several that Geister retrieved, was a small rancor figure, a snarling image in bronze that was cold to the touch with empty sockets where its eyes should be. The back had ancient Sith characters on it, that would translate to "Bring my Rage Into Me." A short spike of uncontrolled anger could be felt in the CorSec officer before immediately dying down, a latent reaction between the artifact and the Force sensitive poison that had been absorbed. In the right hands, it could offer a clue to Faust's presence here.

 

*****

 

Gamma heard the communique from above and felt a sigh of relief. The remotes were all silenced, so they were effectively blind save for local news casts and media. They didn't know Faust's plans and were in a holding pattern, waiting until something happened. Gamma, catching anxious glances from his shipmates responded.

 

Aid is appreciated. Still observing through local channels. Last word from Lord Faust is he's in the Palace. Believe he is still making good on his escape. Gamma over and out.

[Lux]

Thunderous drums beat with emphatic fervor as fiery anger built in her heart. A sheaf of moisture glistened on her ebony head, right beneath the wild mess of charcoal that billowed around her as she ran, like a chaotic crown. Footsteps clattered down the hall ahead of her, followed by cries. Pain, anguish, and shock followed behind the madman as he pushed his way, tearing through the palace with ill regard to those that kept it. Lux lent her thoughts to those she passed, but her quarry was what mattered.

 

Yet, small fingers clung to the robes she wore. Palatial guards were running to and fro as the hunter rushed through the halls. And the reality of her situation pulled at her feet, slowing the sound of her boots clapping against the tile. How was she to approach this? And, with regards to Skye, what would happen to the Jedi Master if she were to intervene? Would Faust hand Skye over without resistance? Was he rational?

 

Flashbacks of Tenebris with fire in his eyes did little for her mercurial psyche, but they were enough to provide her with a definitive answer. No. Stopping a short jaunt from the throne room, Lux spotted a few more Guardsman running feverishly around, tending to the wounded and doing what they could to secure the palace as Faust’s influence descended upon them. When it looked like one or two of them were free, she approached them and asked if they could help. They asked what she was doing in the palace and immediately offered to escort her out. But she interjected and told them a small summary of her role in the investigation. Their reaction was rife with incredulity, but Tenebris’ name helped her credibility.

 

The palace guards that were stationed outside were already tapped for Tenebris' perimeter. But, with patience and a little coordination, the guardsmen started to form up around the throne room. They moved to each entryway and exit to block Faust’s advance.

 

In the meantime, Lux sheathed her vibro-sword and walked carefully into the throne room. The guards closed the main door behind her and took up positions on the other side. They would likely not provide much in the way of a buffer if Faust decided to take off. But Lux was optimistic that they would help detain Faust if it got to that point. A lot of her plan was optimistic at this point. But, she was this far, why not risk it?

 

Lux approached, her Onderonian disguise blowing around in the low wind of the throne room. Her glowing white eyes looked up at the figure carrying more than an average man could and stared at him for a good second before responding.

 

“Why are you doing this? What do you have to gain?” Lux said, a touch of passionate zeal in her display. “You have Skye, you have presumably what you came here for, but all of Iziz is dropping down on you. Almost the entire city remembers you and what you’ve done. And, if any of them can, they will do whatever in their power to stop you. So, what is it, that you would risk all of this?”

 

Lux’s hands were out. Her charcoal hair draped across her shoulders. No weapons were exposed, except the vibro sword that was sheathed at her hip, and no aggressive actions were taken. Her expression was only vaguely identifiable, but a single show of emotion glistened atop her cheek, drifting down toward the floor. As she spoke, her eyes kept a degree of attention toward potential traps that would get her should he attempt to catch her off guard.

 

“Why do you destroy and continue to destroy? The force is still here. The people are still here. You are not all you used to be. Why do you do this?"

[Tenebris]

Just when it looked like things could not get any more complicated, a comm from Onderon Space Command came through to the mobile command center in Iziz' Palace Square, alerting the communications officer to the presence of two approaching fleets. Tenebris was unsurprised at this development, given the distress call Skye had sent, but the presence of two fleets was disconcerting, a fault line in the proverbial quaking ground that was the Japrael system. Neither of the fleets were instantly attributable to the Jedi or the Galactic Alliance, which was another count against them. Swearing under his breath, he pressed fingertips into his tired eyelids and moved to the comm station. Captain Leed, the head of Iziz' reserve guard, was standing nearby overseeing the tactical readouts streaming onto their screen, calculating the number and purpose of the approaching capital ships.

 

Tenebris glanced at the bulky officer. "Any chance this is a fluke?"

 

Leed sighed. "Slim to none. We had an open channel with one of them, the HWK-290, but when the second fleet jumped in-system they shut up real quick."

 

The Echani nodded and gestured to the comm console. "Do you mind?"

 

Captain Leed stepped to the side, his answer implicit.

 

Relaying instructions to the communications officer, Tenebris ducked out of the mobile command center, the localized comm jamming around the palace still in place on all but the CoreSec emergency frequency. Calibrating all of his gear, he assumed his place at the head of CoreSec's troops and began to lead his men into the palace, trusting that the planet's military force would do their part in holding the perimeter, having been alerted to Faust's trickery with the sonics.

 

The medical team tending to the badly burned and wounded Lieutenant Cochran almost missed the tiny Dathomiri figurine in the smoldering metal fragments that were all that was left of Faust's hoverchair. But by the time they had retrieved it, the commissioner had already vanished. It was delivered into the hands of Mithwyr, the commissioner's most loyal agent and acting captain of the Raisonneur.

 

-----

 

Moments after Tenebris disappeared into the palace, the communications officer opened a channel, and with a grim set of his face, addressed the fleets that gathered overhead like storm clouds. "Unidentified vessels, this is Onderon Space Command. Identify yourselves and state your purpose immediately."

 

Reaching across his instruments, he modified the comm channel to contact the freighter individually. "HWK freighter, this is Onderon Space Command. Are you in distress? Please respond."

 

The officer had explicit instructions from the CoreSec officer; if any of the vessels above so much as mentioned the comm from Skye Organa, they were to be given instructions to stall in orbit as long as humanly possible in order to run interference and prevent any escape attempts should the fly manage to shirk the web.

 

One thing was certain: this had become much more complicated than a simple investigation of a terrorist incident on Corellia.

[Tobias Vos]

“What are our orders master?” Sandy questions, awestruck herself.

 

 

That question echoed in Tobias's mind, as the sudden emergence of the Sith forces blinked into real space. The pressure in the back of his head was released- So, that was the Force telling him something was up. He thought. The moments stretched out into a moment that felt like an eternity. A dozen scenarios played out in his head- and glancing down at the sensor station for some feedback on what they were up against- they could use the Griphook to pull in Catnip right on top of the Sith fleet- and let loose with everything they had- cluster bombs- point defenses- turbolasers- ion cannons- ramming ships and fighters with shields up at full power with weapons down. That was infeasible.

 

Another situation was that they could power up their shields- and try to make it to help Skye planet side- but what would stop the Sith Forces from bombarding the planet? Tobias and Sandy would be down there- with no help in the sky. The fighters, again, were the issue. There were just too many of them.

 

Could just have the Griphook throw the Shadows around the area- in a desperate attempt to get the fighters to condense where the turbolasers and all of the firepower they could muster were to hit the Sith Forces- but they would call that bluff and run the shadows and still flank them.

 

How many could they take out? A dozen fighters? But then there were those on the sensors registering as bombers- those would be behind the fighters and let loose- ripping each Corvette apart- and killing the uninformed Jedi Forces.

 

Call in Catnip, send a distress signal before a shot was fired, hopefully backup would arrive in time from Kirlocca or the Empire, he would even take the Galactic Alliance at this point- but to get them to do something immediately would not go over well.

 

What would happen if the Sith managed to capture a ship? The Griphook? They'd be able to cast a shadow and prevent anyone from leaving, and catch anyone by surprise and shred them up instantly.

 

What if Sandy was captured? Vos would lose his mind in blind rage and try to cut a path of destruction through the Sith to get her back, but that thought ran through him like a ice shower. All these people were under his command, their fates were his determination, his decision. There was only so much he could destroy, so many he could kill before their sheer numbers overwhelmed him.

 

The fallout of Sith showing off their prisoners. Propaganda versus the GA/Imperials/CoreSec/Jedi. The potential fallout from that alone was daunting.

 

What if Tobias was captured? What would become of the Jedi Order? What would become of him? While he wanted to float back into the folds of the Force, he had a job to do. He was the only one being proactive- and Kirlocca had sent him and Sandy to pull Skye out of Onderon, and she hadn't made any contact other than the first message. Was that a fake message? She hadn't sent anything other than that. Was somebody posing as her, and called to the Jedi- while also calling to the Sith Fleet to ambush the Jedi Forces.

 

That was plausible, the Jedi were notoriously slow to get anywhere. Something Tobias was trying to change, ergo why he and Sandy were here. That and the request from Kirlocca implying there were people to save.

 

 

People to save...

 

People to save...

 

People to save...

 

People to save...

 

People to save...

 

People to save...

 

People to save...

 

His eyes unfocused as he was lost in thought. There was no other outcome to this other than the destruction of the fleet- and hundreds of families losing a loved one, wasted time, wasted credits, and wasted resources. Tobias and Sarah came back to save people, from the terror that was impending... was this that terror? He thought it was more on a grand scale.

 

BUT THIS IS FAUST!!! ISN'T THAT GRAND ENOUGH?!?! His brain screamed up to him, but he had to recite the Jedi Code- and quiet his mind. What would Tom do? The logical Chiss was on Corusant, what would he do? What would Kirlocca- Dahar- Adenna do?

 

What would he do?

 

Tobias felt dizzy- and he realized he hadn't taken a breath yet- so he let the air in and out of his lungs. His eyes refocused- looking out the view port. Could they make it to the dark side of Dxun? Skirt around the planet, build up momentum and attack the Sith Fleet that way? He tried to crunch the numbers and probabilities, but he would need a protocol droid to run the odds- and an astromech to crunch the numbers.

 

Had Princess Caroline procured any fighters aboard? Any bombers? Could he take that chance? His hands pulled back from the dashboard and curled into fists, his left hand came up to scratch his face. The chrono told him he had been thinking for just a few seconds- but it was as if he had all the time in the world.

 

How many people could he save if he intervened on a planet they hadn't asked help for? There had been no call from Onderon, to the GA or anything. Likely, a small incident. If there was an incident, it still could be a ruse to get the Jedi here. It wasn't the first time he, or the Jedi would have fallen into a trap.

 

But Tobias had a duty- he was a Jedi- bound to do the greatest good he possible could. His thought process was interrupted by the communication link coming through. Onderon Space Control- to identify and state the purpose of their reason to be here. The heart in his chest was pounding as loud as it had ever been- a side effect of the ramifications-to-be from this confrontation. By all the Gods and all the Stars... Vos cursed in his mind.

 

Sandy made a move to the communication button. Vos waved her off- as if inspired from his musings. They could wait another few seconds before they responded. With his other hand- a quick glance back and forth- his right hand started to punch in a few numbers to the navigation console- Tobias couldn't believe he was about to do this. He had a duty to protect and uplift the citizens of the galaxy from any threats he could combat- this was one of them. After his hand was finished transmitting orders to the corvettes, he clenched it into a fist once again- as his left hand still blocked Sandy from touching the console.

 

"Sandy..." Vos clenched his jaw in frustration. "-being a Jedi means we have to protect people across the galaxy. We have a responsibility to protect them. Sometimes though-" The Verdict, Promise and the Griphook pitched away from the oncoming fighters and bombers and pointed towards the Dark Side of Dxun and ignited their engines to full thrust- accelerating. Tobias continued to speak with a somber, regretful, reluctant tone and then a sigh. "Sometimes though, we need to realize that in some situations- no matter how much it tears us up inside- we need to think ahead and avoid confrontations that will cause more death and destruction than what the situation is worth and think about whatever situation we are in- is it really worth the destruction of everything we have? Or should we pull back? While honor and glory are not in line with Jedi thinking, that is a warrior's path- honor and glory- Honor yourself and your clan. There is no glory in an unwinnable battle. If we engage the Sith, we will lose. Here, the Sith have won without firing a shot. Was the message a trap for the Jedi? Maybe. Was the message real? Maybe. But this situation will only result in our destruction- or capture. If Faust is really down there, and if Skye is down there- I will have to make peace with that decision myself. I will explain my choices to Kirlocca, and take full responsibility. I will not waste the lives of good men and women here in space, and on the ground at Onderon. I will not destroy the small bit of forces we have on the slim possibility of catching Faust. There is no sense in any of it, I am sorry if I let you down. This is the only way I see that we can space collateral damage on the ground, and save the heart break of families here on our ships. I hope you understand. I hope I will someday as well. For now, we need to let this go. We have no authority, this is a Galactic Alliance world- and they haven't called for aid. There has only been one call for help, and that maybe- MAYBE- legitimate. The probability is high that this was a trap- and we just sprung it." Tobias pulled back to his seat- and growled, obviously upset at this choice he had to make.

 

 

 

The freighter pitched to starboard to follow the corvettes- away from the fighters- and into clear space. Clearing his throat, Vos hit the communication button- "OSC, this is Captain Tabore of the freighter and convoy. We are scrambling back to hyperspace, there's a warring force here, there's nothing we can do here... you got a lot up here to contend with, I'm sorry. Tabore, out."

 

And as one, all four vessels powered up their engines to spare Onderon from the destruction they were about to cause. Away they went, powering up hyperdrives. Vos's hand curled into a fist- as he thought of the next move.

 

 

OOC:

I'd like to take a chance and apologize for this, but IC and OOC'ly, it's an unwinnable battle, and after much deliberation and consideration there is nothing to be done here. I'm citing everything Tobias mulled over, just now. I realize a lot of time and energy is now wasted, and I'm not spared. I've put a lot of time and energy into this, but I'm trying to justify it, and it comes out the same every time. Myself/Tobias was forced into this, and I tried to prep for this, but still- against those fighters, Grand Admiral Thrawn couldn't have even won. Also, I didn't say they entered hyperspace- just powering up.

[Lusef Aryan]

Faust had no way of knowing what was transpiring far above, nor if his call to aid for the Dark Lord had even been answered. Despite everything, all would be moot if he didn't make it out of the Palace in one piece with either prize.

 

His senses focused on the approaching footsteps, hearing them pick up as others joined in. One frantic, hurrying, the other pair measured, intense. He was no expert able to recognize an individual's footsteps as he knew some people were trained, but he could tell military or professional bearings. Guards? CoreSec? Alliance even? He couldn't tell. His eyes, such as they were opened as his pursuer came into the throne room, watching the door seal behind her. Under his mask, the holographic visage smiled, chalking that up as a small, measured advantage.

 

He studied his pursuer with a dispassionate posture, but already shifted into alert, his lightsaber out, standing at profile, Skye over his back shoulder. He found the white eyes telling as he'd gouged out several pairs of them in his life time. Thyrsian given her complexion in all likelihood. He stood motionless like a statue, only the faint movement of his chest giving the simulation of breathing to keep up the façade a bit longer.

 

"Oh, you poor, poor fool," Faust said, his voice harsh and mocking, giving a deep chuckle. "Why does there even have to be a point?" Faust started to move, his lightsaber drawn, carefully moving in slow predatory circles around this slip of a challenger. "Maybe I'm in it for the laughs? Maybe I'm in it because I owe the Dark Lord a favor? Maybe I'm helping Head of State Zinthos create fear and panic to better consolidate her grip? Maybe it's about survival, a gambit to be the last one standing when all else falls to ash? Maybe it's all or none of the above?" He chuckles again, keeping his distance, his lightsaber leveled in an easy, relaxed outright position towards the girl's center of mass.

 

"I am indeed far, far less than I was, but the Force, the accursed puppetmaster still endures. That, I know all too well," he hissed, studying her carefully for a reaction. "That is how you followed me here, is it not? Foolish!" He laughs. "Perhaps Skye was your teacher, eh, padawan?" He continues, eyeing her like a wolf stalking its prey. "I would prefer not to have to level half of Iziz. Have no doubt I will, if it is truly necessary. I assure you I was better loved here than the Mandalorians. Unlike Emperor Palpatine, I learned a few lessons in not spoiling one's own backyard. My followers remain as Isel stewarded this city well after the Countess met her end. Onderon was my world, Iziz my city." His tone is hard, steely. "But I'm not a sentimental being, so I will burn it all to the ground if I must, and while I have a... debt... to Skye, I will not hesitate to do her harm if she cannot be leveraged for my ends." There's a malicious and hard tint in his voice as he continues. "Nor you. So here's my offer. Fight, and if you can beat me in combat, Skye's free to go. Fail, and your life and more is forfeit. I will consume your very soul as I did for countless lives on Kashyyyk, Dantooine, or Kaut." The threat is delivered in a very matter of fact tone to stress its seriousness.

 

"Or, you can call your friends in CoreSec and tell them to just walk away." His tone softens, though there's still a mocking edge in it. "You don't have to like it, but you and your friends get to live, and I give you my word, on the soul of my sister Anastasia, Iziz will endure." Faust's circling pacing ends where he began, his guard up, standing at profile, ready for combat. "Your move."

[Exodus]

The drastic shudder of warp speed hummed throughout his core, calming his mind, quieting the venom in his veins. He closed his eyes, to blot out the scour of subspace, and slowly he slipped into the soft cradle of a fever dream. When he opened his eyes in what seemed like a mere second after, he found himself entirely blind. He searched high and searched lower, but black surrounded him on all fronts. His heartbeat remained poised with untroubled pace, a discipline fit for only the sharpest of assassins, yet it pounded loud inside of his eardrums and inside of his chest. The Dark Lord could finally feel his hands, as if he had just now realized that he had them. The air was an unforgiving chill that bit at his skin. Straining his eyes with his passive mastery of the Force was unfruitful, the low-light vision that would naturally braid his eyesight was far from his reach.

 

 

• “What trickery is this?” The cold-blooded bark of the Dark King fell on deaf ears.

 

 

Far in the distance, he could see it. The darkness parted slowly, and he felt irresistibly drawn to a fire-red outline that illustrated this. Could this be a door? The cover of darkness made it impossible to tell, but the red line sluggishly widened and a raucous sound poured out from the cracks. The loudness was the raw hammering of drums, severely amplified by the emptiness of where Exodus stood, wherever this was. There was no helping it, his heart beat faster and faster, to the tune of the warmongering symphonies. The Force neglected him, an impossible treachery especially when he could still feel the power of it swell inside of his cold skin. The colossal door pushed opened a little more now, still blurry in the distance, and with fire literally erupting from the spaces in dry heaves. Exodus looked down and his hardened leather boots felt heavy, heavier when he remembered his feet. Then, he forgot everything altogether, when he looked up to lay his eyes on what was now eerily peaking from the door.

 

 

--

 

 

The HUD of the Lightbreaker enkindled with a myriad of instantaneous communications between vessels. A slither of discomfort gnawed into his head, quickly breaking the clutch of the feverish visions, and then dissipating altogether. He rested a hand on the phantom pain, and shook his focus back into pocket. The ship transponder would intuitively align with the AI that commanded his fleet, the one who had designed the Lightbreaker, and he would know that the Dark Lord had arrived. The starfighter held a body that was superbly vested in advanced stealth technologies which concealed the vessel both visually and from the haunting gaze of sensors. Alternatively, Exodus studied the readouts that cascaded from the heads-up display, as well as the efficient and condensed synopsis streamlined by Kain himself. He had to displace those visions and focus on what now laid before him, but what were they? It appeared as if the Jedi were here after all. Unsurprisingly they were quick to abandon their post, waiving their duty in the face of danger, and slowly receding into the hole they crawled from. Lord Exodus quickly identified the thickening of the Dark Side, smelling the banquet of the battlemind that his armies feasted on, while easing his own consciousness into the fray.

 

 

• "Unidentified vessels, this is Onderon Space Command. Identify yourselves and state your purpose immediately." The comm rang through broad channels.

 

 

The enmeshment of the Dark Lord and the Sith Battlemind spread out a yawning power across the armies that was so oppressive, that the connected hive-mind threatened to break loudly against torrential winds. A flush of unbridled adrenaline overflowed the chalice that they all drank from, empowering them through one sheer focus, with a response that would disturb the Onderon Communications Center. They all spoke as one, many voices, from various locations on the black expanse before the planet. Hard voices, voices seethed in murderous passion, voices dipped in black.

 

 

 

• "...We Have Come For Faust."

 

The ricochet of unidentified voices did not intend to clarify their position, and Exodus chose to instead access personalized and secure lines of communication with the Wolves that stood at bay. “Lords of Battle, hold positions. The Jedi are an expected element to this, but we will not give chase." The sound of the name that their brothers of light held, rolled off of his tongue in smug detest, their cowardice so appalling in every nature. There could be much more to their actions nonetheless, nothing was ever as it appeared. "Prepare for engagement with the Onderonian Forces. The choice is theirs whether they wish to live to see another day, or not." The cards would lay themselves, and the game would be played. The deep-tone of the Dark Lord carried with it a sharpened focus, knowing that this was much more than a ridiculous rescue mission, it would be here and now that the powerful collective of the Sith would make harvest on the real truths that were left unsaid. "..Kain, find me eyes on our target."

[Delta73]

Delta glanced down at the screen readout that the TAC officer sitting directly behind him was feeding him and let a grin spread over his face. He triggered his comm to the Starfighter commanders and let his thoughts about the Jedi fleet’s retreat come to the very surface of his mind to relay it to the mindmeld. He could feel and hear the dark Lords response to the Jedi retreat and he relayed that to his men. As he spoke into the throat mic, a tinge of excitement came edging into his voice. “The Jedi Fleet is in full retreat, prepare for possible stage reinforcements, fall back to cover the Marie and the St Cathryne, if this is a trap to lure us off, that’ll be a bad move, I know you wanted blood boys, but we have an objective on the ground for extraction first and foremost. Let the big guys do the communicating while we form a screen in case any GA or CS forces want to play at fighting. Solid copy?”

 

A string of acknowledgements flooded through the communications headset and Delta banked the ARC to port and placed his fighter wing a klick planetside of the capital ships as the capital Iziz slowly rotated below them. He glanced across his readout, keeping an eye on the Jedi forces signatures as their hyperdrives began to spool up hundreds of kilometers out. Blissfully out of turbolaser range, it would take over a minute of solid burn to get to them, which would leave the caps undefended in case the Jedi decided to microjump back towards the Black Sun ships. Delta knew that they would see those ships again, they would destroy them then, when there were no Faustian adventures to play rescue for. For now his men kept an eye on their sensors, ready to intercept anything that came planetward.

 

Delta turned his head and triggered the flight comm to his two copilots, the TAC officer and main gunner. “TAC give us readouts on onderonian forces, give us vectors for attack. After you get that up get us a trajectory to Iziz, bombing and strafing runs programmed into flight computers throughout Grey and Green wings, call it pattern Omega. Calculate for maximum military casualties and infrastructure damage, label that plan for Green Flight. Also calculate secondary targets for maximum civilian infrastructure damage for Gray Flight." If the rescue mission went sour and their man was killed, they would have a backup.

[AVATAR Kain]

Kain's lip curled into a snarl as the identified Jedi fleet fled the system. He placed his own ships on high alert, understanding that this may be a trap, but for now they would wait until Gamma updated them. Sheog would likely sense Faust, or so Kain surmised based on how the Force worked and the information the Hutt was passing his tactical and ops officers, but Faust might also be in a situation where attempting to extract him would only seal his fate. Until Kain was certain, he did not wish to risk it or the wrath of the Dark Lord for failing...and without enough known variables, the chances of failure were high.

 

Kain sat back in the command chair, and stared at the system in front of him. And now...we wait.

 

...Execute...

[Lux]

Fool? Is it a fool to hope for something more than chaos?

 

For the laughs? Who is left to laugh when destruction leaves nothing behind?

 

What kind of monster thinks this way?

 

Silent instruments played a ballad for the man who was void of sanity. Dim light lit the stage. And the dancers took their places, opposite each other. Motes of dust hugged at Faust’s feet as he circled, the influence of his bellicose monologue lingering in the air, attempting to suffocate morality and clarity. But Lux, the presumed enduring optimist, attempting to pierce the cloud, was caught in a web of spiritual design. Wrathful spirits that were against the Hunter and his ilk, rose from the catacombs and filled her with vengeful thoughts. Feelings of pain and anger fought to the fore. Each sensation pounded against the walls of her mind, sending chaotic splinters of emotion cascading down the tenuous barriers she erected to halt Faust’s unconscionable advances.

 

Memories, buried and reserved, were dragged from their rest. Terrible thoughts and evocative moments from the Thyrsian’s past flew before her in an instant.

 

The warm touch of blue skin brushed her lips, exacerbating the delicate latticework that drew across the skin of her cheek. His smile, his turn, his strike… his callused hands rubbed against her fragile windpipe and closed around her neck; pugnacious faces and scornful words congested the space between her eyes and ears. The flash of lifeless eyes stared back at her in hollow misery.

 

Goad. All of it is a goad.

 

Powerful forces rushed toward her, a mirthless tide of passion. And she stood, a rock amidst the water, refusing to fall. The malaise of mental murkiness grew thicker with each passing moment, but Lux persisted. Her mind retained some measure of clarity and listened to Faust as the idea of a peaceful solution became nothing more than a distant memory. Spectral voices validated her mired doubts and helped her spirit run from hope.

 

But, despite it all, hope found her. The glint of Skye’s amethyst saber hilt hit her eyes as the Hunter zeroed in on what he thought was a hapless naive fool. He continued his posturing, establishing his lack of empathy and his ultimatum. And, as his weightless words continued to fall from his contemptible mouth, Lux feigned attention. Her white eyes were glued to the shrouded figure while her thoughts focused on the hilt. Negative thoughts, positive thoughts and everything in between were drawn together in order to direct the hilt to her hand. A torrent of mental energy, channeled from the roaring furnace of spectral fury, built in the crux of her consciousness.

 

But the hilt did not yield.

 

Lux redoubled her efforts, drawing a bead of sweat across her ebony brow. The Thyrsian feared that her mental exertion would show at some point and give her away. The energy that continued to channel through her was a great deal more than she'd dealt with before. But she ignored her fear. Something wasn't working and she needed to focus. Slowly, so as not to break the fragile veil she made to deceive the deceiver, Lux added more memories to the tumult; recent memories of her touching the force for the first time and the stage she found. She pictured that stage in her mind again. Skye, a ballerina in peril, hung over the shoulder of a shadowy danzatore. The bright light of her starry presence was muted, but still endured through unconsciousness.

 

When the image of the stage took hold, icy fingers crawled up her spine, following through the fibers of her arm to the tips of her fingers. An elusive string of sensation extended outward, and when the Thyrsian stretched her hand, she felt a metal cylinder nestled there.

 

It was warm to the touch. The spirits of vengeance cried with righteous fury as the pads of her fingers gripped the ancient weapon. The Thyrsian’s luminous eyes narrowed dangerously. “You wish to fight, Vladimir Faust?”

 

A snap hiss echoed through the chamber. And amethyst light shone brilliantly at the Thyrsian’s feet. The blade and its wielder entered a tight guard stance.

 

“So be it…”

[Sheog the Mad]

The taste of fear roiled from the surface of Onderon, casting its reflection into the cosmic winds, into the gravitational well of Dxun itself. The Lord of the Krath sat upon his dias, within the meditation sphere upon The Demented Madness, and he feasted. Fear was a beautiful thing, easily twisted in the dark. Like a child’s fright brought upon by the setting of the sun, fears abounding upon themselves in the dark, distorting fear into terror.

 

The Demented Madness, stealthed from sensors, began its long pass in the cloak of the gravity well, following the fighter wings on their approach. The Hutt could feel the Clone as his hands gripped the control yoke of his ARC, he could feel each passing iteration of tactical analysis as it passed in waves through his battle-hardened mind. A plan was selected, analyzed, and then thrown away at the pace of summer lightning upon the plains of Dantooine. The Lord of Madness touched the clone’s mind, narrowing the focus and intent to align with the Battlemind. He trusted the Clone with his life, but the citizens of Iziz far below would be reckless to do the same.

 

The minds of the citizens and soldiers below were like an untreated forest, rife with dried wood and bramble, and fear would be the bolt of lightning that ignited a wildfire. The fleet of the Sith loomed upon the horizon like birds of prey, poised to consume all life. Rumors of explosions at the palace did nothing to assuage fears, and the fire began to grow. The Lord of the Krath breathed upon the fire, stoking its flames into his own creations, feeding upon the fears, the frights, and the terrors as they spread.

 

The alarm within the Onderon Space Command was swelling with each report. One fleet’s departure, and another’s arrival. A horde of voices unified in a way only heard in night terrors. A creeping feeling of doubt at their own training, tripping a cascade of adrenaline-fueled trepidation. The light was fading for them, being swallowed by a new dawn, the darkness of unnatural horrors. Sheog gorged upon the apprehension and fed the foreboding in every mind not in his allegiance. The Mad Hutt channeled the power back into its source, as a blacksmith feeds a furnace. It was delicious.

 

Far below within the city of Iziz, a mother held her children to her bosom, a growing dread replacing the warmth of her heart. Her husband worked in the capital, at the royal palace as a warden. The rumours of explosions there had reached her, and as the fleet appeared on the horizon her worries had expounded. Death was knocking on her door, and she was falling to its whispers of dread. She began to fetch a bath for her children, her hands worrying at their summer-blonde hair as she pressed their heads under the water's cool embrace, her face gaunt with a sickening unease. She had to save them from whatever horrors awaited the capital of Onderon. She was one voice amongst a choir of scrumptious terror as it grew with his direction.

 

You could almost taste it. Melt-in-your-mouth and succulent fear. The bedrock of all dark things. A primal thing, devouring hope, debasing strength. Fear was on the rise, and it was a mouthwatering feast. Within the terror, The Lord of Madness would find weaknesses, shatterpoints for Onderon’s destruction, or whatever decided to oppose them. The enemy's fear would be the fires of their own destruction.

Edited August 4, 2017 by Guest

[Tenebris]

The eyes of the communications officer widened in a mix of fear and disgust, throwing the headset on the console before him. Captain Leed sent him a firm scowl that demanded an explanation, but the officer simply shook his head in puzzlement. "Captain, I've never heard anything like it. That fleet... it responded... as one."

 

There was no other way of putting it, but even having turned the words loose into Onderon's open-aired twilight, a hot flush crept over his cheeks as he realized how ridiculous he probably sounded. Something echoed in the otherworldly voices that rang through his mind, replaying over and over and over, some undercurrent that whispered of death and despair that drove him instinctively to take a faltering half-step away from the console. The Onderonian captain demanded the words be played back, jamming the headset down over his ears. Opposite to his subordinate, his face drained of all color, taking on a grim set.

 

"Get the Commissioner back here. This is his rodeo. I don't care if it is Vladimir Faust in those crypts, one man with a death wish and a hostage is less important than a fleet's worth of destruction unleashed on our homeworld," he directed solemnly.

 

A chill permeated the air that had nothing to do with the fading last light of Onderon's star.

 

-----

 

"Acknowledged," Tenebris said grimly as the earpiece in his comm crackled. Even over the emergency line, the jammers were powerful enough to have some effect. Nothing within him sat well as he turned on his heels, leaving his female traveling companions to fend for themselves against the galaxy's most well-known mass murderer, but he also had his men to think of, and the fleets overhead. If Lux still had her comm attuned to the CoreSec emergency frequency, he had a chance at reaching her. If not, she had chosen her own fate when she dove into the fox's den.

 

"Lux, this is the Commissioner. If you find him, do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. He brought some friends to this party we weren't prepared for," he said coldly. "Get out of there and return to the square, now. That's an order."

 

He certainly could not fault her for wanting to do her part to rescue the Jedi Master, but she was woefully underprepared, and he had neither the time nor the manpower to save her from the consequences of her brash and headstrong choices.

 

At a brisk jog, he arrived back at the command center, the disappearance of the system's star rendering this side of the planet to gathering dark, a metaphor that was not lost on him. Wresting control of the comm from the bewildered officer, he addressed the overhead fleet as exhaustion and anger and frustration and the edges of desperation blended together like ribbons of sediment running through the bedrock of his consciousness.

 

"Unidentified fleet, this is Commissioner E'lann of CoreSec. Hold position and do not advance on the planet or prepare to be fired upon. Faust is a known criminal and is wanted by the governing bodies of the Galactic Alliance and by extension CoreSec, as well as the Onderonian military. What business do you have with him?" His voice boomed with reckoning, by his anger keeping at bay the fronds of fear that caressed the edges of his senses.

 

Sith or no, perhaps the overhead fleets could buy him a tourniquet to stem the flow of destruction that would occur in this place if he failed.

 

Perhaps there was still a way to retrieve Skye.

 

-----

 

The team of a dozen agents continued into the palace, passing corpses bearing the insignia of the Palace Guard, sweeping corridors for any lingering tricks Faust might have deigned to leave behind. Per the Commissioner's instructions, they were to tighten the perimeter bit by bit, approaching the throne room from every door, east, west, and south. Sergeant Yorl, the de facto leader of the team in Tenebris' absence, thought he could just make out a distant humming that sounded vaguely familiar. Onderon's reserve guard had stationed officers by the exits to the tunnels and catacombs that led out from the Palace itself. The planet's defense fleet itself was on standby, ready to dart out of atmosphere at a moment's notice should negotiations go sour, but desperate to avoid the possibility of goading the militant fleet into an unwanted fight.

[AVATAR Kain]

Kain smiled as he heard the comm. Finally...progress. The trick the rest of his fleet had pulled off with the comm was interesting, no doubt a trick of the Force from one of the other Sith present, perhaps even the workings of the Dark Lord himself. Exodus was present, even if only to observe, like Kain was supposed to. Currently, Kain was aware of the spectacle on Coruscant, and had done some digging into Vladimir Faust's past as Darth Luciferian, enough to know he was a thorn in the side of what the Sith aimed to become. Some saw potential, others saw nothing but trouble. What Exodus saw, well...Kain could only speculate. But, it was time to take some initiative. He opened a comm to the Commissioner that had hailed them, adopting a calm, pleasing, neutral tone. The tone of a well-seasoned diplomat. While he talked, he gave directions via text instructions relayed via a datapad to have the fleet spread out a bit but to keep its current distance. The net would unwind, and should those on the surface try anything stupid like attempting to subdue Faust and take him off world, the Sith would be ready.

 

"Commissioner...It is good to hear a reasonable voice. I am Ambassador Lane Cook, I represent the interests of the Sith. And while I can respect your claim of jurisdiction, I doubt you have the facilities to deal with someone the likes of Vladimir Faust. We also both know that if you fire on us, we will treat it as an open act of war, and I'm not certain you have the ability to completely repel the forces assembled without amassing a terribly long list of casualties, and honestly, I'm sure neither of us wants that. You see, we're here to take Vladimir Faust into custody, to adequately hold him until we can pass judgement on his interference in galactic territories and causing intergalactic incidents.

 

"The forces assembled in your system are to ensure he does not escape us, as well as to help prevent further collateral losses, if necessary. We are also prepared to assist and pay for cleanup and rebuilding efforts for any infrastructure damage, and to cover insurance claims of civilian loss of life as a direct result of his actions. So you see...we come peacefully, Commissioner...the olive branch has been extended. Kindly allow us to assist, or you may turn him over to us if you with to subdue him yourselves. But we will also not leave without him. He is our responsibility, not the responsibility of the people of Onderon or the Galactic Alliance. And while I can negotiate on their behalf, many of the Sith present, to include the fleet commander, are not the patient type...they will not want to wait forever. Just something to keep in mind."

 

Kain muted his end of the communication, staring down at the planet. While he may have merely been an AI, one of the things he prided himself on was a level of intuition above that of most organics, such that manipulation and politics were things that came naturally to him. The ball was now in their court...Kain was intrigued to see how this E'lann man would play.

[Lux]

In the silence that reigned, precious seconds before the first bout, Tenebris’ baritone voice echoed from Lux’s communications device.

 

//”Lux, this is the Commissioner. If you find him, do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. He brought some friends to this party we weren't prepared for..."

 

"Get out of there and return to the square, now. That's an order."//

 

His words lingered for a moment. The Thyrsian’s eyes, glowing with dangerous light, did not abate their lethal posture. But, she lowered the lightsaber blade to point at the floor, keeping her muscles ready for any outcome. Should the deranged man find opportunity in her maneuver, she would counter with virulent force. However, Tenebris was her superior officer. Although not aligned with CoreSec specifically, she risked a lot when she pursued Faust.

 

The momentum she built still pushed her body to action. Whispers of wrath drew at her hand, and phantoms of power swirled around her. But their attempts were akin to puppeteers with their strings cut, flailing about with little result. Combat was the fire in her soul, but if she tried and lost, it would cost more in the end to those around her. Winning wasn't a surety and it would avail her nothing.

 

Sorry Skye…

 

She bowed lightly - more out of propriety than respect - and backed slowly toward the main door.

 

“It appears I've been summoned.” Lux intoned silently. Her eyes strayed to the Hunter.

 

Would he let her leave?

[Tobias Vos]

Just looking out the viewport as the spacecraft that was bearing down on them- turned to Dxun and Onderon. Tobias just rubbed his forefinger and thumb against one another- his eyes lost outside the view-port. His left hand controlled the ship to fall in line with the other three corvettes and their escape vector. A hurricane consumed his mind- but there was one certainty. They wouldn't win, no matter what he tried. Sheog had been out there, that he was sure of- he knew he couldn't win, but part of him wanted to engage in something a fight or conversation. Why did they want to help Faust? That wasn't a thought for him to linger on- he had other things to attend to. Namely building the Jedi Fleet- or at least making them prepared for combat of this scale.

 

The Griphook was the first to vacate the system, followed closely by the Verdit and Promise.

 

The freighter the two Jedi were in, lingered for a moment. Cursing aloud- he slammed the hyperdrive lever back and the black turned into a modeled blue of hyperspace.

 

"There's seven micro-jumps programmed, but afterwards- we're going to go pull out at our rendezvous spot with Catnip, then jump from there to..." He trailed off- as if still considering. "...to wherever we need to go next. Preferably planet-side somewhere. I really wish the Remnant had an Interdictor..."

 

Vos was clearly unhappy about what he had just done, but over all it was better for the Jedi and Onderon in the long run. Part of him wanted to at least try. But, the outcome would have been in question to a certain extent, but they would have lost everything in the end.

[Skye Organa]

The Healer couldn’t make herself wake up or for her leadened eyes to open. Her awareness was slowly returning though everything seemed dim, dulled in her unconscious state. She recalled attempting to slam up her mental shields... too late to block the sonics from affecting her though the shielding she had had in place would have prevented a physical attack. It seemed as if she was on another level having the dreamlike visions surround her. Therefore… a spiritual connection. Within this dreamlike state her eyes did open, a vision of twinkling stars making up the galaxy made a perfect holographic backdrop.

 

"Beautiful in its own way."

The voice sounded world weary as a black wispy form took shape in front of her. There didn’t seem to be any identifying features of the being in front of her though it’s fatigue was obvious to the Healer. Skye acknowledged the spirit before turning to look back at the starscape before them, listening as it spoke again.

 

"We have an opportunity to talk, given your unique circumstances. Do not ask who or what I am. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." The tired voice continued. "The Hunter's malice, your enemy, must be stopped. I cannot help you out physically, but I can try to fill in what pieces you are missing to this puzzle. Our time is limited as the circumstances that allow me to manifest are fragile, so ask away."

 

Skye pondered the opportunity a moment before forming her questions. “Is this really Faust? If so… how did he manage to survive when the others didn’t? Is it something to do with the cyberlink he had to his ship?” The Healer paused wondering what answers she would receive. She found it curious that this entity would aid her though would take any assistance she could get.

[Lusef Aryan]

The shadowy wraith gave a tired chuckle at the question, pleased.

 

"Everything. The Bhelliom was destroyed before the Hunter died, but it was an extension of the Hunter and his mind and malice. Faced with its... or his... own death, it backed itself up into a Coruscanti safehouse even as Faust himself in his arrogance believed he could end the eternal conflict of Light and Dark in the Force, not seeing the Balance. That consciousness traveled across the galaxy until it reached... That I cannot see... He's cloning a real body again, to revive himself, to draw the Hunter's full spirit back to the mortal coil into a new living vessel, past the two spirits keeping him held in the Chaos of the Dark Side. But the Dark Side rot Faust manifested on his own soul saps at the vitality of any clone. He is trying to perfect his vessel, to become what he was when Onderin and Darex stopped him. You are fighting the Hunter's malice. A puppet vessel for his will."

 

The wraith's tired tone grows firm. "If that happens, he will be a nightmare once more, consuming world after world. A beast of hunger and death. You must seek the puppeteer, the root of the malice, and cut those strings. You must find the Eyes of the Hunter and protect-"

 

At that the vision faded out, the wraith spirit vanishing into wispy clouds.

 

*****

 

Faust's eyes shone bright behind his mask as his nemesis drew in the Skye's lightsaber and ignited it. He set Skye down on the floor in a motion that was surprisingly gentle. While not sentimental he still acknowledged at one level his debt to Skye. "So be it," he echoes back, tipping his lightsaber in a mocking salute. "You have some skill with the Force, but it will not avail you against one such as I," he hisses. He circles once again, a noticeable change in his posture, stalking his prey like a panther, slinking as if searching for a weakness in her defense or concentration.

 

"I will have to make your death quick, but I assure you it will be as painful as possible," he promises. No bluff, no lies in his intent there. A low rasping chuckle escapes. "I do enjoy destroying naïve padawans such as you. They break in so many ways. Physically, mentally, and spiritually." There's a sense of him coiling like a spring, ready to launch himself forward like a violent avalanche.

 

And then Tenebris' comm came in. He halted, pausing. Friends they weren't prepared for?

 

Interesting... Had Gamma succeeded?

 

He saw the girl's frustration, her eagerness to fight, caged suddenly. He laughed. He halts his attack, but keeps his lightsaber out, not foolish enough to lower his weapon with her so close.

 

"Ahh, it seems the ones holding your leash are drawing you back. They've written off your master for dead," he taunts. His tone is harsh and biting. He watched her back away, taking a read on her, studying her face, guessing at the emotions he could see there and anticipated from her reaction. "I can feel your fear for your master. Your anger. Your hatred of powerlessness. It makes you stronger, but you deny it." he taunts aloud, confident in his read.

 

At that, Faust does turn his back on her, very deliberately, his lightsaber deactivating, hanging limp in his hand. HIs head, still hooded, bows. He seemed to have written her off, but was listening for her approach, even as he openly presented his very vulnerable cloaked back to her, daring her to strike out in her anger. "Run along now and dwell on your failure to protect her, and reflect on what it means to be a Jedi."

[Lux]

His laugh was meaningless.

She did not want to leave Skye. But, at this point, her sacrifice meant nothing. The Thyrsian wanted to charge in and save the day. But with a huge force bearing down on them and no means to ensure victory, her participation meant nothing. It was a trivial pursuit and wouldn't amount to anything more than a corpse on the marble floor. Or alternatively, if she'd won, that group of 'friends' would have surely seized the planet in recompense for their fallen. And her 'win' would have been a loss in the long run. Saving Skye wouldn't have gotten anywhere and Lux would be regretting her role in the whole catastrophe.

 

So, not seeing a way out of her conflict, Lux dismissed herself from the room. She acknowledged the palace guards as she left and told them that the Hunter still lived. The Thyrsian quickly relayed her recall orders and then sprinted down the hall, lightsaber hilt in hand.

Wisdom is hard to see.

 

With the spirits of the catacombs returning to their slumber, Lux's mental hurricane was released. Tears leaked from her eyes with no regard to her flight. Her arms pounded with more emphasis than before. Hallway to hallway she ran like lightning. And when she made it to the main door she knocked, half expecting to get shot by the person on the other side.

 

It was shaping up to be one heck of a day...

[Xae-Lin Ardel]

With a flicker of pseudo-motion, the Lambda-class shuttle registered out of Raxus Prime arrived on the scene developing in the space around the spinning planet of Onderon arriving about twenty degrees off of the sunward side of the planet, affording the pilot a clear view of the assembled fleets in the space around the planet.

 

"Well this is good timing," Xae-Lin Ardel remarked to no one in particular as she pulled back her Force presence in light of the darkness she could keenly feel coming from the opposing fleet. It wasn't a far leap of logic to guess that Faust's Sith brethren had likely arrived to lend their aid, but that didn't automatically mean she was right. The fleet response was a bit overkill, further solidifying the theory that the Sith were making an appearance in the galaxy once again, but she knew it would be suicide to confront such a force on her own. Hiding her own presence was a measure she hoped would keep whatever situation was developing from escalating further.

 

Deciding it was better to announce her presence to the defense fleet rather than risk an approach and get shot at considering she was on a shuttle registered to a known Sith, she opened an encrypted channel to the planet below. "Onderon Defense Forces, this is Jedi Knight, Xae-Lin Ardel. I've come in response to Master Organa's comm. Requesting permission to land."

[Delta73]

“Command lead one ex contact sunward side.” The smooth voice of the TAC officer came through the comm in Delta’s helmet and he looked down at his screen. A new blotch of yellow had appeared starside of Onderon on the map. He knew that he didn’t need to ask if its transponder was being run by his trusted Lieutenant, and with a quick keystroke inquiry to the Marie the shuttle came back out of Raxus Prime, to a John Skywalker, Sith Lord. Older than space dust code too. Confusing. He relayed this over the mindmeld and comm and began his course of action. Delta immediately turned his ARC towards the distant shuttle and punched engines to full. The 11 other ARCs and 12 TIE defenders went full afterburner with him as Delta opened a comm to rapidly approaching the shuttle. Leaving the K-Wings and TIE Interdictors to handle the Onderon Forces if things got shooty.

 

“Sith Shuttle, what is your business on Onderon, please follow current trajectory and join the Fleet over Iziz or you will be shot down. Please state your business, intention, and identity. Immediately.”

Delta and his fighters triggered their missile locks in an effort to push to message home. They would still be out of range for the moment, but it would light up the board for the shuttle pilot. What a Sith lord would be doing here, unbeckoned, unwanted, and uncontacted put a measure of concern in the back of Delta’s head, either this was an ally of Faust, or someone playing the dangerous game of deception. And if it were the latter, a diamond boron missile or three would end that conversation before it even began.

[Tenebris]

"Sir, one of the fleets just jumped back to hyperspace," the radar tech called across the control center.

 

A curt nod was all the man received by way of reply, but internally Tenebris was reeling. The ships that had just departed bore registrations that were untraceable, shadowy transponder IDs that led, impossibly, back to nowhere, giving him pause. It could no longer be of concern, however, as the other fleet grew ever larger in the viewports.

 

He was spared the futile exercise of speculation as an amiable voice echoed through the command center. The Echani kept his eyes trained on Captain Leed, trading knowing glances with the man.

 

Sith. In this galactic political climate, where the Imperial Remnant had placed a death warrant on the heads of any and all Sith, they had the audacity to show up in force above Onderon. Had he the resources of the Galactic Alliance at his fingertips, the scenario would be entirely different. But this was not Galactic Alliance space, and he was charged with the defense of not only his men but of the Onderonian people, who almost certainly had their eye on the destruction of Carida. He was unwilling to make this a repeat of that fiasco, where the firebombs rained from the sky as careless combat took its toll in collateral damage.

 

Moving to open a channel to offer his reply, the comm officer drew his attention to another missive.

 

This just keeps getting better...

 

He rubbed a hand across his face. "Lambda-class shuttle, you are cleared for entry; proceed directly to Iziz' Royal Square. Try to keep to yourself, Master Ardel," he warned.

 

So Skye's distress call had come to something. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried, given the identity of the fleet that now hovered over the planet. The registration of the erstwhile Jedi Knight's ship showed up strangely in their database, but it wasn't enough to draw his suspicion. He had been by Skye's side when she had sent the comm and it was only reasonable that a Jedi Councilwoman would receive an answer to a plea for help.

 

"Ambassador," Tenebris began sharply, opening a comm to the fleet overhead, "your offer of assistance is duly noted, and your desire to avoid collateral damage is shared. I should ask where you received your information, or why you have any inklings of Faust's whereabouts, or tell you that I utterly mistrust your intent to--what was it, 'pass judgment on him'?--but to my mind that is less relevant than what is at stake here."

 

Leed nodded fractionally, the intent clear: let this one go. It rankled to let the lunatic walk free, especially as Faust's prior affiliation with the Sith as Darth Luciferian was no secret to the wider galaxy, but the thought of letting him retreat with Skye in his clutches, the most renowned Jedi Healer the order had ever seen, was unbearable. Not to mention he had no way of knowing the whereabouts of his impulsive Thyrsian companion.

 

"We accept your offer, on these terms: Faust has one of my officers in his custody, a provisional agent by the name of Organa. I would like this agent returned to me unharmed, to be extracted by the Lambda-class shuttle currently inbound on this system, at which point your explosive friend is all yours. Should peaceful conduct continue, and should you not deviate from your singular task, you will be allowed to leave the system uninhibited, provided you leave some form of collateral until all structural damage to the Iziz Palace and Courtyard has been repaired. Do you agree?"

 

Iziz' reserve fleet stood ready for deployment should their Ambassador refuse terms or any hijinks take place. Hoping he looked more confident than he felt before these men with whose command he was entrusted, Tenebris silenced his comm, leaving the channel open for a response, just as he made out the slim figure of his ebony companion being heralded his way, unharmed but looking certainly shaken. Without thinking anything of it, he extended an open palm to Lux, wordlessly offering a place beside him as he waited for an answer from the fleet before looking into answers from her. He said nothing of her foray into the palace, or her headstrong decisions, or her choice to forego communication and approval of her actions. He owed her that much, and Mithwyr had been clearer than Mon Calamari waters: the woman was intent on holding her own in this fight. More than he could say, his Echani heart swelled with pride over her determination.

[AVATAR Kain]

Kain, now in the guise of a blond human, furrowed his brows. The shuttle was an interesting variable, one that could mean many things, even if it only held what sensor readouts and this commissioner claimed it did. But Kain was having none of it. He signaled to his comms officer, ordering the starfighters in pursuit to form up in an honor guard escort formation, and if the shuttle deviated, to fire on it. The Sith were still in the dominant position, and It was not something the AI was willing to let slip.

 

Opening the comm channel back up, the cool, friendly voice of Lane Cook once again rolled across the microphone. "You have no idea how happy it makes me, Commissioner, that you are willing to work with us. I know there has been heavy stigma from the Sith in the past, that we have been the genesis flashpoint of some of the worst things the Galaxy has ever had to deal with, Faust included, and mistrust and tensions are high on both sides of this right now. But make no mistake, the Sith fully intend to right their past wrongs the Galaxy has had to endure. Their philosophy has changed, and with it comes a new era of growth and prosperity for all under their protective umbrella...but listen to me wax poetic. This will be a smooth and transparent operation as we can make it."

 

Kain cut the comm, completely ignoring confirmation of many of the requests the commissioner made, glossing them over with silver-tongued propaganda. Of course, their terms would be held to by members of the Sith fleet, but it was poor form to outright acknowledge that in case the situation went sideways. Politics. Always politics.

 

Orders went out to the fleet. The Dark Lord was updated on the situation, and a recommendation was submitted to him on a diplomatic plan of extraction. The Marie was ordered to follow the honor guard in, taking a high atmospheric stance of dominance over Iziz, while the St. Cathryne would remain in higher orbit with the rest of the starfighters to provide a screen against enemy reinforcements jumping in-system. The Onderon forces might have been a match for the Sith fleet, but they were also spread out across the whole planet...and if they attacked first then the Sith merely had their provocation for a war. The knife was to the throat, it was up to them whether or not it drew blood. Another encrypted comm was sent to Luciferian Gamma, updating him on the situation and recommending Faust's movement towards the square. Finally, word was sent to gather another construction fleet.

 

In moments, Kain had boarded his shuttle, temporarily transferring command to Sheog, who seemed to be coordinating much of the fleet movements already, as the fleet moved slightly faster than orders were being sent. The Sword Logic engaged its engines at high speed, rushing to meet with the descending honor guard and trail behind them. Faust's hand off would be delicate and required finesse...and nothing the Sith possessed had more finesse than Kain.

[Lusef Aryan]

Faust took a seat on Onderon's ancient throne. Not out of any delusions of grandeur, but simply because it offered the best seat and a wide view of the throne room. He leaned back, putting on an air of concentration. He felt oddly blind and cut-off as he waited. He picked up the unconscious Jedi, carefully holding her. The thought of using her to heal him had crossed his mind, but he didn't trust her to be willing. Even so, Faust also knew given the depths of the Dark Side that were plumbed prior to his death, that counteracting it would take something equal to the Jedi Council at the least. Even then that might not be enough. No, that hold couldn't be beaten by brute force. Something... else... was required...

 

Gamma's voice came crackling back over the comm. At once, Faust's lightsaber snapped to. He looked reclining still, but his joints were primed, ready for action. He knew the comm was safe and encrypted. Traceable, perhaps since the arrays overpowered jamming frequencies, but at this point that was moot.

 

"Lord Faust. The Sith fleet has arrived over Onderon. The back up requested is here. They are in negotiations with CoreSec. You can walk away, but there are terms." Faust just waited, and Gamma spoke up again. "Skye must be returned. She may be a valuable bargaining chip, especially for the Sith the Empire is holding, as well as other leverage against the Council, but I don't think you'll be able to leave without her." Faust sat in silence. He could sense there was more. "And some form of collateral left for the damage caused in this affair." The Hunter chuckled at that one.

 

"Very well," he said quietly. "I'll be coming out. Gamma, I'll need you to route some funds through shell channels for that second condition. I intend to pay for the damages outright. I don't dare risk Black Sun's direct networks, but I remember enough of their ancillary affiliates to kill the trace. Use the following account and passcodes." Faust recited them, giving the former trooper access to the Hunter's account. Gamma would hear a low humming sound as if Faust was considering something, recognizing the notes from a famous Corellian opera. "1,000,000 credits," Faust decided. He could hear a shocked gasp from Gamma on the other end. "Have it transmitted to Onderon's government. Make it a token of goodwill from Vladimir Faust, letting them know there was no animus in this operation, and that if not for the Jedi's interference, it would have been resolved... painlessly. Oh, and please make it in memory of one of their late Countesses and Dr. Van Isel." Faust congratulated himself on the last stroke. While the Countess was killed by the Mandalorians, her estate, and Faust's hand helped rebuild the planet in their aftermath. He would tip his hand that she was a follower and possibly open up other avenues for others to dig into past plans and pending plots, but it would be worth it.

 

Funds were not as plentiful as they were, the Hunter having exhausted a lot of his personal resources in the lead up to the Ritual at Ground Zero, throwing everything he had into that. Well, almost everything or he wouldn't be clawing himself back from the Abyss at this time. Even so, funds remained left over: Some were from times with various crime organizations, others from smuggling, and some "acquired" during stints in "public service". Since his death, those same funds had nothing to do but sit and accumulate interest or be reinvested. It was still quite sizeable of a hit regardless, but Faust was buying something he could bank on later, reinvestment in Iziz and a possible base of operations later.

 

A short time later Faust emerged from the palace by way of the crypts. Cloaked and hooded, only the blue glow of eyes could be seen behind a white featureless mask that he wore. Skye was tucked in one arm, his lightsaber in the other. He could see operatives from Onderon's home military, CoreSec and others. He even met the gaze of the CoreSec officer and Skye's protégé, giving them a faint nod.

 

"Weregild has been paid to Onderon. We will meet again," was all he said. Something fell to his feet, creating a small metallic clang, visible to anyone as a round explosive sphere, or VICE capsule. Half a second later, a blinding explosion lit up the square, sending out sparks of fire and smoke.

 

When it cleared, Skye lay on the ground, unharmed, as if carefully set down, breathing peacefully in her unconscious slumber, not even singed. Outside of some scorched ground, nothing nor anyone else was missing or damaged, save two things:

 

Faust disappeared, vanished like the smoke that now rose up above the palace, and where Geister's dead body lay, his head now was missing, his neck neatly cauterized by what looked to have been a lightsaber blade.

 

For all intents and purposes, this battle was over.