Simiyiar-class Freighter Rogue Shadow, en route to Bal’demnic

The stars swirled around the Rogue Shadow, bathing the ship’s hull in celestial light. Shafts of the heavenly light broke through the ceraglass cockpit to cast jaded shadows on the freighter’s crew. Kitty Hawk reclined in the pilot’s padded chair, cocking her head from side to side.

“I admit, there are many things I expected to do in the service,” mused the lithe woman, “but this isn’t one of them. Ferrying a Jedi to a resort world.”

Adrian shrugged. “Besides not being a Jedi. You’re basically right. It probably isn’t much, like a lucky hitman, criminal, or some creature. Besides, this is always what I wanted to do.”

“Oh?”

“Protect the innocent.”

She snorted. “I’ve checked out these Kon’me that live there through the databank. They don’t sound like very nice creatures.”

“Very nice people,” corrected the aspiring apprentice, “they seem all right to me. After all, they seemed to be mostly interested in maintaining their independence. That sounds like freedom to me.”

“Adrian, it’s bad enough that they have a…well…bad scent, but they seem to have a rather…hostile viewpoint on outsiders. When the CIS occupied them, the Jedi and the Old Republic intervened to try and help them. Do you know what happened? The Kon’me decided to kill off both groups.”

“Did they invite the Republic?”

“No-”

“I didn’t think so,” interrupted the Susevfian, “we both know that the Old Republic had problems. I mean, they were lead by a Sith Lord. Any organization that is lead by a Sith Lord isn’t one that cherishes peace or freedom. In fact, the only ordeal that Republic seemed to have strived for was security.”

Slowly shaking her head, Kitty clamped her mouth. The swirling lines of hyperspace shriveled into miniscule specks splattered into the abysmal blackness of space. Two bright orbs dominated the starry expanse, and the freighter’s viewport. In the distance, fiery reds and golds covered the sole, forbidding star of the Bak'rofsen system, releasing cosmic rays across the solar system. Closer to the Rogue Shadow stood Bal’demnic, its surface covered in sparkling, indigo seas. Occasionally, rocky mountains and sandy beaches defiantly broke through the stretches of water. From the Confederation’s databanks, the Rogue Shadow’s crew knew that the world was a tropical paradise. And one zealously guarded by the natives. Kitty tapped a button her headset comlink.

“This is the freighter Rogue Shadow, carrying the Confederation envoy, we are requesting permission to land.”

“Fine…” grumbled the Kon’me controller, “follow the flight plan being transmitted to you. If you deviate from it, it could be your last flight. Mark my words, humans.”

“Copy that Bal’demnic Control,” stated Hawk coolly.

She tapped the button again and turned to face Adrian. “Very friendly.”

Ravenna glanced downward. “Probably just under some stress from whatever is after their people.”

“I hope so,” declared the blonde woman, “because their attitude is going to ruin my vacation pretty soon.”

“Your vacation?”

She toothily smiled. “But of course. Tropical islands, sandy beaches. It’s the perfect vacation spot. Just need a sprinkling of cantinas and resorts. Perfect.”

He slowly nodded. Hawk goosed the control yoke downwards, sending the Shadow streaking through the atmosphere. The man closed his eyes. He began to breathe deeply, filling his lungs with the ship’s heavily recycled air. Ravenna stretched out his mind, feeling out the area around speeding ships. His mental probes rippled from the ship, touching and glacing over the fauna of the tropical world. He encountered few thoughts from those below him, but a variety of feelings and pictures flooded his mind. None of them in a coherent or comprehensible order. In the midst of this sea of life, a splotch of darkness began to grow quicker than the value of Vinda-Corp on the Galactic Stock Market. Something is definitely not right here. He squinted his eyes. Something…but what? And why? There isn’t anything really valuable here except for vacation spots, right?

A young man robed in black stood proudly along the rocky outcropping stretching outward above the waters that reached as far into the horizon as the eye could see. Waves lapped lazily against the distant golden sands of the beach. What must be temperate waters came splashing against the base of the cliff far below him. Waters exactly like those had carved these masses of land into the almost sculptural islands that undoubtedly dotted the entire planet. It would be just the place for a peaceful getaway. That is if something so wasteful was desired.

Behind the man known now simply as Camiron, mining equipment was at work seeking what was hidden within the rock face. He had set up a perimeter of beacons to keep the locals less interested in his presence. Not that he would have minded something, anything to break the boredom. Outside of a quick conversation between the apprentice and one of the Kon'me the trip had been sadly uneventful. He was half tempted to destroy the machines that sent out the frequency the Kon'me found so distressing.

From the ship he had boarded and taken the past few days to travel here upon, to the trek to the spot he had learned held enough cortosis for his purposes everything had gone smoothly. He'd been aching for a fight, for a pocket of angry reptilians to attempt to ambush him or get a little too curious about the blond off-worlder. So easy it would be to simply destroy them for someone like him. So very easy, at least in his mind, he felt it would be so. But confidence had never been at issue for the apprentice. At least not in his way of thinking.

He closed his eyes for a moment, seeking the comfort of the force. Something tangible to remind him that he was here for a purpose. He had been here, basically guarding the equipment for the space of two moon rises. The one man speeder parked just within the boundaries of what had become his make-shift camp. The Sith's eyes opened, the use of power altering his eyes as he glanced skyward. He could almost feel the unseen ships moving along in and out of the traffic stream in the upper atmosphere. The minds for the most part were too far to really comprehend beyond snippets of thought here and there. But there was something else there. Something he had not expected.

He felt the brush of another force user. He didn't push too hard, simply letting the sensation wash over him. A dark smiled came to his lips as he sent a little nudge of welcome to the other presence. Well, it wasn't exactly welcoming, this nudge. Only time would tell if the challenge would be accepted. Or even investigated. A Sith could hope, however. Anything to ease the boredom.

Adrian’s wrinkled his brow in intense concentration . What was that? The Susevfian bit back his lip. It was a reply. But no-one could have noticed me unless...they were force-sensitive. And they had some sort of training with their talent. He squirmed in his padded seat. And from my feelings, it doesn’t seem like a very… well… friendly person. Which means he’s probably a darksider. His grass green eyes narrowed. And probably the source of those disappearances. Great, so I’m just going to waltz in and face a Dark Jedi, maybe a Sith.

“What is it?” inquired Kitty, sparing a glance at him.

“I think I have an idea what has been causing the deaths of the Kon’me,” stated Ravenna evenly.

“And that is?”

“Another Force User. I felt a presence as we were flying just a few minutes ago. And it doesn’t seem too friendly. Maybe a Dark Jedi or a Sith,” mused the young man.

Hawk’s lips curled into a frown. “And you’re going against this person alone? Adrian, not that I doubt your abilities, but it’s foolish to fight someone you know nothing about. For all we know, he could be a Sith Lord, and I don’t think you’ll be walking away from that battle…”

“So what do we do?” challenged Ravenna exasperatedly, “just let him continue to murder innocent people? Who around here do we know can take on a Sith Lord? The Jedi are scattered across the galaxy right now, probably hiding to find comfort and lick their wounds. The Kon’me so far haven’t been successful in dealing with them, and we can’t exactly call in the entire Confederation army to deal with a problem on a neutral world. And even if we did, I don’t think they’d be capable of permanently dealing with the problem.”

“Let us come with you,” pleaded Kitty, “you know that Bob and I can fight.”

Adrian frowned. “Of course. Because the two of you are experienced in fighting Dark Jedi. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. If you think I have a bad chance against him, what makes you think that you will?”

“We have a better chance as a group, as a team, Adrian. Three fighters against one are better odds for you than one-on-one. You know this. And I want to make sure that you don’t get hurt. We look out for each other, remember?” said the woman quietly.

Shaking his head, Adrian sighed. “I have to think about it. And I should probably consult with the Saarai-kaar on this. I’ll be in the hold, talking to her. Let me know when land.”

“Once we land, then what?”

“We deal with this darksider…”

Camiron downed the last of the Aitha. He'd first tried it la month or so ago and it had become his favorite hot beverage. Granted, this one was hardly hot, but more or less the temperature of the surrounding air which made it neither hot or cold as far as those things went. He would have preferred it hot but he didn't want to call anymore attention to himself than necessary.

The thought, the reminder to get what he needed to get done and then get off planet did bring a smile to his face. As did the momentary brush with the other force user. The apprentice was aware of the fact that he could be setting himself up for trouble. But he welcomed the challenge. If he survived it he would only grow stronger.

He tossed the drink container into the container at his feet and lifted his chin into the welcoming breeze coming off the water. The length of fabric that made up his cloak whipped lightly against the wind as he turned away from the view and toward the center of his camp. The Sith checked the equipment inside the camp to ensure that suitable amounts of the valued mineral were being extracted.

Camiron then moved inside the small tent he'd set up his first day here. It was roughly twelve by twelve and sparse enough to serve both as a sleeping quarters and as it would now. As a makeshift temple. He lowered himself onto the mat on the floor. Preparing himself with an exhalation of breath he closed his eyes.

Meditating had once been difficult for him. He had been of the frame of mind to find it necessary to quiet himself. As a fledgling student he had found his strength in emotion and relied as much on that as anything else to guide him. While it was true that he still found power in those feelings, he also had come to understand more of the subtleties of the dark side. And while he still felt that meditating was mostly a waste of time, he could see some value in doing so.

Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that he was aware that his Masters sometimes joined those who had survived the recent cull to check their progress. Beyond anything else, Camiron was determined to succeed and grow strong. So if he needed to use meditation to strengthen his connection to the energy around him, then he would do so. That connection might aide him if the presence he sensed proved to be more than a moment's distraction.

Baldemnic’s sun slowly sank into the horizon, suffusing the sky in a conglomeration of fiery oranges and reds. The blue waves crashed down against the rocky cliffs in dull rumbles that flowed and ebbed in succession. A fresh, salty breeze whipped up the sides of the precipice to toss Kitty’s blonde ponytail. The trio of Confederation agents sat down on the grass, surveying the area, and simply enjoying the climate; it was a significant improvement over the stale Academy’s air. Kitty spared a glance from the sparkling sea to question Swenson.

“So?”

“So the Kon’me usually dislike offworlders, and very few ever come here because of that,” announced Bob, “but some do come. Usually for vacation. There is a small resort island that some guy bought that exclusively caters to offworlders.”

Adrian cocked his head to the side. “What are you getting at?”

“There’s an offworlder that didn’t check into that island. It’s an anomaly.”

The Susevfian nodded. “He’s probably not here for vacation, and I really can’t see a darksider going out of his way to go here for vacation, especially when he’s not at the resort. Do we have any idea where he is?”

Bob shrugged. “Not exactly. We do have a rough location though.”

“We’ll check it out first thing tomorrow morning.”

“And until then?”

“We get ready. Weapons, maps, local guides, medical supplies, interrogation equipment. Anything we could possibly use if this turns out to be an actual Darksider,” ordered the CSIS commander.

Kitty tossed her head. “The Confederate army?”

“I wish,” mused Ravenna, “I’d like to see a Sith deal with a couple hundred soldiers at a time, but no. That does give me an idea though.”

“Hm?”

“I want you to fly us over there. And if possible, provide fire support with the Rogue Shadow.”

She recoiled back. “Firing laser cannons on a person?”

“He or she or it isn’t a simple person,” murmured Adrian, “A force-user is never anything to underestimate. You know this.’

“True,” admitted the lithe woman, “I’ll get ready preparing the Shadow then.”

Bob nodded. “And I’ll make sure we have all of the equipment ready. We do have it packed somewhere, right?”

Adrian snorted. “Somewhere. You might need Kitty to help find it.”

Swenson awkwardly bowed and ran over to walk alongside Kitty. Glancing over his shoulder, Adrian watched the two stride up the Shadow’s ramp and disappear into the glossly black hull. He sighed. What have I gotten us all into? A wild-goose chase. One that either ends in ridicule for not finding anyone. Or if we do find someone, he’s probably adept enough to kill all of us. That will be wonderful. He gritted his teeth. Well, if he’s going to try and take down any of us, I’m going to do my best to stop it. Ravenna narrowed his emerald eyes. It may even take my life. So be it. His right hand reached into his coat pocket. After groping around for a second, it tightened its grasp against a cold cylindrical object. He whipped it out and tapped a button. An electric blue beam sprang from the heavily detailed hilt. Adrian flourished the blade about in a whirling fashion, burning a figure eight into the air.

Drawing the hilt back towards his torso, he inhaled a deep whiff of the salty air. His hand high up on the hilt, he angled the blade to sun. His right foot stepped out towards the vast, blue expanses of the ocean. The Soresu adherent shifted his torso, aligning his left foot to that its side so that it ran perpendicular to his right foot’s heel. Simultenously, his left hand dropped off towards the ground and aft of his body to counterbalance his stance. It was the opening stance of the practioner of Soresu; a kata he had gone over many times with the Saarai-kai. Supposedly, the stance enabled a series of lightning fast parries and blocks; some designed to stop an incoming saber, some to stop the common blaster bolt. All designed to protect him from harm. But staring at the fading sunset, Adrian could only wonder if all the practice with the Soresu katas and the continuous drills of defensive combos would be enough. Enough to stop a Sith.

Simiyiar-class Light Freighter Rogue Shadow, Bal’demnic

The glossy black starship skimmed across the tumultuous seas; waves rode up in white crests before crashing into the phalanxes of rocks which defended the shorelines. In the cockpit of the Shadow, the trio of Confederate agents scanned the tropical paradise. Kitty intently stared at the sensor readouts, keeping the craft on its stealthy, low-level terrain flying. Swenson gazed at the horizon, as if expecting some metropolis to suddenly jut out and consume the pristine beaches and gulp up the salty sea. Leaning back in his chair, the young Jensaarai closed his eyes and slowly breathed in a rhythmic fashion as if sleeping. The Susevfian abruptly leaned forward towards the ceraglass canopy.

“No,” stated Adrian forcefully, shaking his head, “I sense him, more to the left. Much more to the left. That way.”

The woman shrugged, and gently rolled her arms to the left, taking the Shadow in a gentle arc towards the specified location. Sapphire blue seas stretched across the horizon, only broken up haphazardly by the reflection of the sun’s golden rays off the sea. Several kilometers away, a single, rocky island jutted out from the deep waters.

“He’s there,” declared the dark-haired man, “on the island, I can feel his presence. Set us down on that stretch.”

“There are two lifeforms according to the sensors which do match the rough parameters of a typical humanoid.”

Adrian snorted, “A typical humanoid. Whoever here isn’t typical-”

He stopped abruptly as a voice forced its way into his head. Why have you come to your death? Adrian frowned. If Death is not what you desire, you have no business being here. No, death is too little a punishment for meddling in other’s affairs. When this is over, you will be begging for death. Death will be your reward; pain your only companion. The voice cackled hysterically. Ravenna shuddered, and blocked out the resounding chorus of laughter.

“Whoever is here isn’t friendly,” vowed Adrian, “I don’t want either of you following me onto the surface. Kitty, follow me as close as you can, and Swenson, man the turret. I might want some fire support.”

“Aye sir,” saluted the blonde man, leaving his seat to access the gunner’s hatchway.

“All right,” mused Hawk, yanking back on the control yoke, “we’re coming in close, we can let you off whenever.”

“This is good, right here,” said Ravenna, looking over the rocky clearing, “lower the ramp.”

The lithe woman slowly nodded and tapped a button on her left. “Ramp’s lowering. Be safe, and try to not get killed…”



An olive-skinned alien emerged from one of the dank holes which dotted the island. Several meters away, a humanoid wearing a battered set of armor, which appeared to be a conglomeration of cast-off stormtrooper and clonetrooper armor, sat on a rustic crate, watching the embers of last night’s fire fade away into charred ash. The Tarasin strolled over to the humanoid.

“We have an intruder, Grisnak. Best get your gun.”

“And you know he is here how?” questioned the bounty hunter, donning his helmet.

“How do you think?” smiled the alien, “the Dark Side reveals many things to those who embrace it.”

“Who exactly are we up against?”

“There are three,” muttered the Tarasin gruffly, “But only one of whom can feel the Force like myself. I do not think it will be much of a challenge…he does not seemed fully trained…I felt it when I entered his mind…like as if he had just begun his great journey…his mind is undisciplined…he is but a novice.”

“That is good after digging for two weeks straight,” snarled the bounty hunter, hefting a large blaster, “fresh meat to toy with.”

“Patience,” chided the Darksider, “everything is almost finished…and the prophet will reward us handsomely.”

“Whatever,” remarked Grisnak.

“Silence. He is here.”



Adrian leaped down from the ramp of the Rogue Shadow, landing on all fours. He grimaced as pain shot through his limbs through to his torso from his impact on the hard ground. His bronzed face contorted into an edgy frown. Ravenna grunted. Frak.

“Hard landing. You should watch yourself. You could have impaled yourself on a rock…pity you didn’t. It would have at least been amusing.”

Adrian looked up, eying the stranger. It’s hard to say who that is…but it’s not a Sith…I think. What is that, stormtrooper armor of some kind? Sith don’t wear armor, at least not armor like that, nor do they tote blasters. Bounty hunter. And apparently not a friendly one. His right hand probed into his pocket, grasping the cold, metallic hilt of his lightsaber. Adrian hesitated.

“I’m looking for someone-”

“Ha!” exclaimed the suited figure, “Aren’t we all? My quarry was supposedly here not too long ago. Some guy who has been running around, murdering civilians. The Kon’me hired me, but they didn’t tell me I’d have competition…”

Ravenna slowly raised to his full stature. “I’m not after any money or reward…perhaps we can work together, mister?”

“The name is Grisnak,” stated the suited being, who then shrugged, “Perhaps. His camp is over there if you’d like to see it. I guess he must of got wind that I was after him. Must of left last night…”

Obsidian rocks jutted from the volcanic sand in a ragged ring as a testament to nature’s resolve. In the centre of the ring, ebony logs converged in a spoke formation, still smoking from a recent fire. Holes littered the surrounding area, leading to dark passageways whose purpose seemed as clear to Ravenna as a fire was cold. Adrian cautiously approached, his eyes darting around at the environment.

Looks very recent. Heck, the embers are still warm…and…that presence. Ravenna’s eyes squinted into narrow, emerald slats. The darkside…he hasn’t left yet. Frak. His right hand surged to his belt. Snapping his wrist, he drew the saber from its loop. The saber sizzled to life, its deep azure beam suffusing his surroundings in shades of blue. The bounty hunter hefted his blaster rifle.

“What is it?” questioned the suited figure.

“He’s here,” stated Ravenna softly.

“Don’t move,” ordered Grisnak, pointing his weapon at the Susevfian’s back, “Fisonna.”

“I am here,” stated the repilitian creature, emerging from thin air, “apparently I have not perfected my Force Cloak enough, or this youngster is very sensitive to the flow of the Force. Drop your weapon, Jedi.”

Adrian hesitated. Frak. I can’t move fast enough to dodge a blaster bolt from Grisnak, and that…thing can use the Force. I’m outnumbered and outpowered. The alien casually produced a Lightsaber from the folds of his dusty cloak. Fisonna pointed it to towards the sky and flipped a switch. A blood-red beam sprang out from the handle. Glaring at Adrian, the Tarasin hissed.

“You’re no match for both of us. Drop it. Now.”

The man tapped an oval button on his hilt, retracting the blue blade into the burnished handle. Fisonna toothfully smiled as Ravenna’s hand sank towards the ground. Grisnak cackled. The distinctive sound of repeating energy bolts whirling through the air grabbed Adrian’s attention. He closed his eyes, awaiting the sensation of burning flesh and the sickly smell of burnt ozone. A shriek rang out from behind him, Ravenna spun about to see twin streams of neon green bolts incinerating the bounty hunter. He wanly smiled. Of course, the Shadow. Through the peaks of the obelisks, he could make out the Mon Calamari light freighter, hovering several hundred meters away, the sun’s rays bathing her glossy, black hull. Swenson must be at the guns, like he said. I-

A red beam bore down in his periphery. Adrian’s right hand snapped upward, knocking Fisonna’s hand up with it, in a forceful Broken Gate block. The darksider’s Lightsaber would have hovered over him as an angel of death, save that the Tarasin had gained substantial momentum from his charge. Cursing profusely, Fisonna slammed into Adrian, knocking both of them into the shadowy sanctuary of the Cortosis mining tunnels; earlier dug by the darkside partners. He saw the vestiges of the sun’s rays spin around in a multitude of directions as he tumbled through the cavern. Ravenna clutched his lightsaber’s hilt desparately. When a stone wall had finally stopped his momentum, the only thing he could see was seemingly an endless expanse of darkness. His lip curled upward. Just like training in Kashan…only this time I have a Lightsaber. He glanced at his hand, more out of habit than actually being able to see anything. But if I use this, the blade will give my location away. Best not use it yet. He sat down and began to breathe in deeply, focusing on the sounds of the caves. Water slowly trickled down from some stalactites, making a mutedly pop on the stony floor. Ravenna could make out the telltale sounds of hawkbats flying through the chambers. He focused harder. Adrian turned around. A grunt. There. Grisnak’s partner in crime…let’s see how you really like the darkness.

Gingerly, he rose from the ground, letting his body hunch over slightly, letting his hands hover on either side of him near his hips: the stance taught to all CSIS agents movements to simultenously lessen the amount of noise made when moving and form a proper body balance, especially useful when one had to deal with creaky floorboards. He let the Force flow through him, dictating his movements as a puppeteer manipulates a puppet. Almost there…

A crimson beam coalesced, cutting through the darkness. It wavered about the Tarasin, eerily lighting the Dark Jedi’s immediate surroundings. Fisonna slowly turned around. The alien’s skin had flushed into a violent red, killing the olive pigment of before. Fisonna began to murmur.

“I know you are here, young Jedi. I can feel you, your presence. Oh yes, you think you are so sneaky, fool,” jeered the Tarasin, “The darkside reveals all to those who place it in esteem. To those who are give into it to fulfill their ultimate destiny. Come, let us finish this now, or are you chicken, young one?”

Adrian stared at the alien, whose blade constantly circled around the cavern, shedding faint light in its trail. Ravenna’s thumb rubbed back and forth against the oval activation stub on his saber’s hilt. He licked his lips, watching the Tarasin begin to stumble around the cavern. Fear. Uncertainty. He may understand and be comfortable in his surroundings outside, but he’s been roughed up from the fall and the cavern. He doesn’t have any experience fighting in this terrain. At least CSIS prepared us right in Camp Shipwright; experience certainly has its advantage. As his left foot edged forward, his emerald eyes focused solely on the alien. Fisonna spun about on his heel to face the Jensaarai Warrior. The Tarasin’s dark eyes pierced through the darkness. Frak. As quickly as he had spun about, Fisonna turned around to steadily face another direction. Ravenna squinted his eyes. He’s bluffing. Fis still doesn’t know where I am. Now is the time. Carpe diem. He took a deep breath in, and exhaled quietly. Gritting his teeth, he charged forward, letting the Force flow through his veins. His feet pounded on the floor, reverberating throughout cavern. Pivoting to face the approaching sound, Fisonna scrapped together a sloppy en garde position. An azure blade snap hissed to life from the darkness and swung down in fell swoop which smashed into the red blade of the dark jedi apprentice.

The blades crackled under the impact, shedding a ghostly light on the faces of the staring adversaries. Ravenna tapped a pervading emotion emanating from the creature. Fear…he feels fear…but not about me…what does that mean? Fisonna’s eyes hardened. The alien leaned forward, snarled, and pushed forward with all his might. Ravenna’s blade flowed backward in a loop in tandem with its wielder’s retreat. The Susevfian adopted the standard Soresu guard, holding his blade slightly angled slightly upwards towards his opponent’s face. Growling, the Tarasin advanced.

“I will enjoy burying you here, and then your friends…Jedi fool.”

The robed figure rushed forward, swinging the crimson blade in the classic hammer grip of Shii-Cho; a classic, overly stereotypical lightsaber attack. In its simplicity was elegance and power, and more importantly to Adrian, predictability. Ravenna faintly smiled. Stepping forward, the man whipped his saber up sharply to beat the crimson beam off to the side. As the two blades laterally moved away from their opponents, Adrian’s left hand lashed out to smash into the side of the Fisonna’s neck; where most humanoids had a dense cluster of nerves and arteries. Fisonna blinked and stumbled backwards as his circulation and nerves to his brain crumpled under the Confederate’s assault. Adrian’s left hand deftly surged upwards in an open-palm blow to alien’s snout. Blood streamed down from the Tarasin’s nose past his lips to stain the dusty, dark robes. The Jensaarai stepped back, assuming the guard position from which he had trained for all of his defensive velocities so far.

Fisonna let out a feral growl, charging forward. The red blade flashed about haphazardly, as much of a danger to its wielder as to Adrian. He’s fully given into his rage…and it’s fueling his immersion into the darkside, drawing his blood couldn’t have helped either. Humiliation breeds hate. The dark-haired man gritted his teeth, forcing his azure blade to intercept the smashing attacks of the darksider. The sapphire blade continually bounced off from the crimson blade, only to arc back to block another crimson assault. Adrian backpedaled across the room; pursued closely by Fisonna in a continual dance between the hunted and the hunter. Adrian’s eyes narrowed as his saber barely deflected the latest strike away. He’s using a two-handed grip, more power in his blows, less flexibility. Interesting. The dark jedi brought his saber down in a hefty attack aimed the Jensaarai’s head. Ravenna gracefully sidestepped the attack and forcefully snap-kicked the Tarasin in the chin. The alien howled and let out a flurry of curses. Adrian drew his saber back into a guard position. More anger…he’s…his chin is broken?

“You will pay for this!” spat the creature, limping towards the retreating agent.

Ravenna sighed. Hate. The Sith think its sheer power, and maybe it is, to them; full immersion into the darkside. But hate makes them just as weak as they are strong. Hate overrides good judgement; hate causes over-aggression; hate, hate leads to mistakes. And Soresu is designed to stop that…with peace and calm. The Susevfian focused on the thoughts of more relaxing times, letting their emotions flow through him and engulf his essence. Time seemed to slow down to the pace of a porpoise. Blue and red whirled about him like the lights of a Coruscanti nightclub, sometimes turning a vibrant purple as the blades crashed together as the ocean waves. Fisonna grunted a challenge, swinging his saber in a wide, horizontal slash. He stared as the blade, seemingly slow, swept in on him. Muscle memory, from practicing the ancient arts of Soresu and Broken Gate, took over. He stepped back, allowing Fisonna’s blade several centimeters of berth and stepped forward, bringing his own lightsaber up in a reverse hack. The azure blade slashed into the Tarasin’s scaly torso, ripping apart flesh like churned butter, before swooshing back to Ravenna’s side. Out of habit, the man added an open palm strike from his left hand to Fisonna’s face.

The creature stumbled backwards, before tumbling to the ground in an almost graceful fall. Fisonna writhed in agony. His dark eyes sought out of the Jensaarai warrior, transmitting thoughts of pure hate and agony. Eying the darksider’s deactivated lightsaber, Ravenna waved his left hand, tossing it away into the darkness, beyond the sight of either humanoid. The Tarasin moaned in pain. Ravenna treaded over to his fallen foe softly. His mouth opened, shut, and opened again.

“I’m sorry,” sympathized the Jensaarai, “I will try and get some help down here right away. We can take care of you.”

“Take care of me!” grumbled the being, trying to lift his head, “Take care of me? Do you think that I am that easily redeemed to the accursed light? Do you think the blood of dozens that I’ve slain is gone with but a word? You fool. Perhaps you do not understand it now, but one day, you too will taste the darkside, and you will join it. Mark my words…”

Three days later…

“I see,” stated the Kon’me, staring down at the body, “this is not what we had expected…but it matches the accounts of our people very well. And an interesting specimen this is. A creature that can change its body colour at will. Must be quite a gift.”

Ravenna soberly nodded. “I imagine so. I wonder…I-”

“You wonder what?” questioned the green-skinned alien, staring at the young man.

Ravenna faintly grinned, and shook his head. “I have to wonder. Could I have changed him? Could I have brought, maybe convince him to renounce his ways? To change him to the good?”

The alien blinked, letting a translucent, green lid slip over his eyes, “Why would you have been able to? It is hard to change one’s way. There are some who can instantly change, but far too oft does it take much time with change edging little by little. If you had changed him to do good, what then? Fisonna had killed dozens of my people. Do you surely think we could let him go unpunished? By our laws, he would have died a more painful death. What you have done is better for him, and for us. Rest your heart, young one.”

The Confederate regretfully nodded. Damn it. I killed someone. How can they look at that so nonchalantly, as if I decided to take a walk? That a violent death was good for him? No redemption. Redemption before death would have been at least a more honourable fate. What am I saying? An honourable death? Death is not honourable. Killing is dishonourable…but perhaps necessary? Ravenna shook his head. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is the wrong path for me.

“Agent Ravenna,” motioned the Kon’me leader, “we have a present for you. One which we believe is fitting for your deeds. Come here.”

The Susevfian strolled over to the waiting Kon’me leader, who stood by a canvas-covered box.

“Yes?” questioned the man.

“These interlopers were digging for Cortosis; it is a rare mineral which is capable of stopping the attacks of lightsabers. We feel it best that you receive what they had recovered as the spoils of the battlefield. Doubtless it could be useful for a being in your line of work.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Adrian quietly, “am I sure Swenson will be able to fabricate these materials to do some good in this galaxy.”

“And may they,” stated the alien solemnly, “for there are many more Fisonnas in the galaxy. Many more than there are people like you, my friend. And they will be after you. If you do decide to armor yourself with this, remember what you fight for. Who you fight for. For that is the difference between you and your adversaries. For they fight for themselves, you fight for the good of others. For you are the champion of the Confederation, a light in the darkness, a bane to those who would do evil.”

Ravenna nodded. “Thank you sir. I will remember that.”

“Good,” stated the Kon’me, “I must be off to report this event, and our inclusion into the Confederation, to the rest of my people. To tell them that they are safe. And you too should go, for there are others who need your help, or will need your help, and so you should prepare. Farewell, Mr. Ravenna...”