The Dark Lord grinned, handing a tainted blade towards Fearsons.

"Stab this into yourself, make sure to miss the vital organs. It is tainted with Sith Poisons. You will lose all contact with the light side of the Force. Do this, and you have my word of honor Arai will be free to leave."

He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"No you lying pagan! Free her first! Let her go!" Already the emperor's hand was going for his lightsaber, using the Force to throw the Sith tainted weapon asside and out of reach of where he could harm the Shadow Jedi.

OOC Sorry everyone is waiting, this is a crucial part in all our histories...so I am moving along...it has been almost a month..I am sorry Maim, I truly am.

Theme Music: Fortunae Plango Vulnera (I Bewail the Wounds of Fate) / Orff

Breathlessly the two warriors stared at each other without a single word, they simply watched the other's body, scouting out for some form of weakness before the battle. Diete Somir managed a quick glare before mounting into his combat stance. The only sound was the hissing breath of the Massassi guardians around them, encircling them as if a vicious mob watching an arena battle. Emperor Fearsons was surrounded by manifestations of evil incarnate, the feeling of the Dark Side's icy hot grip intwined his body.

They stood in what appeared to be a fantastic mixture of a ballroom and a throne room, with a beautiful throne of ebon and bone, portraying the true wickedness of the Dark Side, and of the Sith. A great staircase filled the right hand side of the room, leading to an equally dark second story with what appeared to be a developing mist amongst it. Emperor Fearsons squinted his glowing red ees in an attempt to gaze farther skyward. There was nothing to see.

Help me, Arai uttered to herself mentally, trying to shield her thoughts from her master and appear the "strong Sith". Nevertheless the emperor turned to face his adoptive daughter with a look that would stop a nova. She seemed to bite back a tear and turned away, earning her a glare from her trainer and current master, Athena.

It seemed that the Dark Lord had noticed this as well, as Fearsons caught him staring back at the young and confused girl, with almost a poignant delight. There was a quick moment of silence, and of culling hatred between the two as crimson orbs met crystal green eyes before the all-too familiar SNAP-HISS! of the two lightsabers from Diete Somir's grip. Two brilliant white-red blades emitted from the hilts, a small glow shown around the room from the lightsabers clutched in his grips, a hum following the glow.

This was it, the most important showdown of his life, and there was no turning back now. Death, pain, tragedy, none of it mattered at this point, all that was important was to overcome Somir and release Arai from the dark clutches that bound her to this evil place. A momentary rush of adrenaline poured into the emperor's system. Subconsciously his thumbs found the activators on his own weapons, igniting the white-orange and white-black blades in a slow pseudomotion, throwing the two rays of light out readily.

There were no words, no final utterings of hatred before the two bodies lunged forth wholy, two red-blades coming down on Emperor Fearsons's orange and black. When they clashed with such intensity that the Massassi felt it rivoting up their spines, the two blades' crackles tickling the acoustics of the throne room.

The emperor saw then a new strike of oppurtunity as the blades were trapped above each other's heads, the Dark Lord of the Sith had left his flanks exposed. The Shadow Jedi snapped his wrists out and brought the silk covered arms around in an attempt to end it all now, but Diete Somir had already predicted the blows and shot his own blades into a parry. Another crack like thunder shot out through the halls as the two weapons hit.

Another few blows were thrown at Emperor Fearsons, but he both parried and dodge to preserve himself, to stand and fight longer. If the battle never ended he would care little if any. The priveladge to lash out at the Sith was one he was much proud of. Not all could even last this long...or get this close to the man to swing like this at him.

There was another exchange of blows before Diete swung low with one blade, his other crimson sword of light seeking to sink into Fearsons's chest. With all his might the Jedi hefted his weight into a swing at the high weapon, throwing it off and clearing himself a path. As it sirved off course he leapt from his footing on the ceramic and tile floor, flinging himself in the air moments before the singing weapon amputated his feet.

Seeing this new opening in the man's defenses, the whtie-black blade came downward toward his head, and Emperor Fearsons missed only because of the Force enhanced dodge by Somir. The other's boot smashed the ground with a loud thump, and he could feel his daughter's withering fear. Arai could not stand the smashing blows against her father's exhausted defenses.

There was another moment of silence as the two combatants leapt from their mountings and turned observing glares upon each other. There was no sound beyond that of the whining hum of their quartet of lightsabers, hissing their tune of war. Seconds felt as though peeling into minutes, felt like sliding into hours. Again they were seeking out inherint weaknesses in the other's posture.

Fearsons felt a small pixel of sweat instill onto his scalp, that slowly dripped down his forehead and grew trapped on the surface of his cheek, where it hid in fright. Somir stood staring at him like an omenous statue gone berserk. Fright boiled in the bellty of the emperor that swiftly transformed into anger at the basilisk gaze and his inability to strike down this sheer embodiment of evil. Evil that led to the emperor's ultimate hatred for Diete Somir...the Dark Lord of the Sith.

All fear and exhaustion overcome, he lunged himself fully at his enemy. Diete's right blade lifted in an attempt to deflect the Shadow Jedi's orange shot, in return winning another vicious crackle to thunder the acoustics of the throne room. The Massassi hissed gleefuly and beat their furry, feral talons against the floor like excited hands smacking eager wardrums.

As the last few seconds of their hold on each other ended a new wave of fury began. The dark lord moved on the offensive, twisting and turning on the balls of his feet to snap the blades with mezmerising speed at his opponenent. The battle had turned into a rhythmatic game of motion and hazing lights, the two being absorbed in a dance of swings and parries...almost as if it had been routine...as if it had been practiced. Emperor Fearsons faught not only Diete Somir however, but the dire exhaustion that had planted itself somewhere in shi body, and waas he forced to fight back the vengeful hatred that would ultimiately lead him down the path of the Dark Side. Even if he did slay this dark figure, to do so in hatred and anger would only make this bittersweet victory turn to Maim.

Diete swung hard, and the orange blade found its way to meet it, however the emperor's hand grew weak, and the grip on the lightsaber faltered, spitting the weapon across the room. The dummy release shut off the blade and in unision with his own fears, Arai's heart sank at this sudden disadvantage.

The Dark Lord of the Sith took no hesitancies, no lingering, arrogant grins at his prey, he rather succumbed fully this displeasure his would-be apprentice indulged. He moved fully to the offensive, those brilliant blades thundering on each impact. Fearsons rose to his full height then, fighting desperately to hold back the flurry of blows. When he swung high however...Somir ducked to avoid the blow.

With a new oppurtunity for a strike, Lord Maim smashed the sole of his boot into the kneecap of the emperor, a loud pop ringing throughout the room in unison with his feral scream of pain.

But this did not slow the emperor who attempted to painfully rise himself on his left foot. All this happened much to the misery of the watching seventeen-year old girl, who was abhorred by her master's ruthlessness. He did not let up, instead of granting the wounded knight even a few merciful moments to regain his lost composure he struck with fully renewed vigor. Arai tried to lash out, only to find Athena Somir's hand withholding her.

Somir swung first high at the red-eyed rising man, causing him to duck once again. The swing went off, singing the top hairs of his head, but the strike was a feint, and the other weapon broke around the rear was had been done several times this fight. In a desperate move for survival the black saber was dropped behind him, and the two blades cried out as they beat against each other.

Now was where the emperor his oppurtunity, no matter how slim it was. He lifted himself off the ground, using the Force as much as he could...spinning his full weight backward and throwing himself into a blackflip. At the last split second when the two blades prepared to cross and slash into the emperor in their X posture, he cracked his heel into the dark lord's chin, grinning at the satisfying pop it shot out.

When Fearsons landed on that swelling knee however, he let out the cry of pain Maim had not, and nearly doubled over in agony. But he could not stop, he had to persist. Using the Force to asside the pain, he lifted his black blade high...and cut the other's weapon straight from his hand...sending it off hissing in the other direction where it too deactivated.

Now both opponents stood glaring at each other with completely opposite values...completely opposite reasons to fight. Diete no longer cared for Fearsons as an apprentice...he had to cut him down...he was making an ass of the Dark Lord with every blow he managed. The first to lunge was Maim - also known as Diete Somir - but the black lightsaber batted his swing asside easily. Two more blows came, one low from the Sith, while the second involved the Shadow Jedi leaping, spinning and snapping his boot into the other's jaw. Another pop and Somir was wavering.

Now's my chance! Fearsons thought to himself opently. He was right on the stumbling Sith's heels, twisting his body into painful positions to get important and exhausting blows in while his legs did the fancy Hapan kick work. Again Somir found his blade in the precise spot, but the blow was too hard and he was thrown back by the riposte.

The whole room went silent, the moment of truth was here. With Maim on his back, Fearsons lifted his blade and moved for the strike that would end the match by amputating the arm from the Dark Lord. However, as the weapon plummeted those last few inches, Maim's left hand lifted...and the Force pushed itself around the emperor, throwing him opposite of the room and slamming painfully into his back. But he did not relent and rather he leapt to his feet and prepared himself.

Now it all went silent...nothing was heard by the two as they lunged at each other in full plight. Blades lifted high, screams indulging the room, this was it. Meters turned to feet, turned to inches, turned to centimeters, before both blades were swung at each other with such ferocity that it was unmeasured. In unision with the thundering burst of static from the two lightsabers, a loud explosion rivoted the room, and both warriors turned to the opposite wall to see what had happened.

It was then that it was seen that stormtroopers had breeched the palace, and a seemingly endless wave of red laser fire sizzled the air around Maim and Fearsons, striking down countless Massassi in the process. On the second wave of gunfire even more fell.

But the two were far too focused on each other to worry about such a dilemna. Fearsons broke the grip the two weapons had on each other and swung horizontally, but Maim leapt back. As he bucked up for another charge however, a wave of seering, crackling lightning shot into his chest and threw him onto his back. The emperor gazed left, to see five PeFauna standing ready, one of which with his hand withdraw...he had probably saved the emperor's life.

There was a quick return of gunfire from the Massassi, downing several of the stormtroopers in the process, but not quite as badly as the emperor had feared. They were everywhere...and the throne room had transformed into a war zone. Somir's palace was crawling with stormtroopers who were kneeling, aiming, charging, ducking behind debris, and ultimately returning fire to those Massassi fleeing up the stairs.

Fearsons, despite the now growing pain in his knee and the utter exhaustion he felt, began charging for the staircase where several Massassi - as well as Athena - were dragging Arai off while she struggled and screamed behind their dark, sadistic clutches.

"Arai!" he screamed, but he was grabbed by one of the PeFauna royal guards, who spun him around and began pushing him toward the exit.

Dad! she screamed to herself mentally...and then Fearsons's heart sank painfully.

"Arai! Arai I'm coming!"

"No sire," one of the ebon-gowned guards protested, stepping in his way. "We have three of our kind already off to rescue the lady, you must exit at once."

Sure enough, three PeFauna were off and running, hacking down Massassi in the process with their vicious semptes - the lightsaber like axe that was the weapon of choice of the guard. Fearsons bit back tears and nodded, fleeing toward the exit.

Dad don't abandon me...please! Arai shouted at him through their bond...and that swollen knee gave way under that sudden shot of pain. He looked back to see her being dragged higher...and higher up that staircase.

I won't Arai...I'll come back for you...I promise.

DAD!

The PeFauna were almost there, fighting their way maliciously to the staircase. But by then...the dark lord had regained his composure...and ignited his lightsaber.

"Watch out!" one of the staticy voices screamed as the red lightsaber was reignited, cutting right into one of them. It took a few swings to get through the ceremonial armor, but he got there.

The last few things that were on the emperor's mind however before the blackness of unconsciousness subdued him were Arai's screams...and that shuttle with her presence fleeing to the atmosphere.

I'll have you Fearsons...this is only the beginning Maim hissed to him mentally.

Then came the blackness.