The rainfall had started not long following the descent of the various star ships above Theed; the clouds had become heavy, and dark, the water landing in heavy droplets that soaked to the bone. Yet despite the downpour, there was little wind or movement, save for the constant splatter of rain on earth. Most of the citizens of the fated city had withdrawn, seeking the safety of their homes, even though the threat of annihilation loomed above their heads. It seemed almost ironic how some could worry about rain, when Imperial Destroyers posed a far deadlier possibility of torrent…

It almost made Vicirus chuckle, the amusement evident to even his lessened sense of humor.

The Sith Lord stalked toward the Jedi temple. He had passed through the city, having eluded the notice of the majority of the residents; and the sudden bout of weather made his attempts at remaining unnoticed that much more effective. Built within the forest just beyond Theed itself, the temple sat like a foreboding construction that begged to feel the essence of the Force within its halls once again; and just like an addict would seek any substance to fulfil a need, so to did the sanctuary simply need a rekindling of power, no matter the morale alignment associated with it…

The Jedi were present on the planet. Darth Vicirus could feel the underwhelming sense of the Light Side, and when compared to the growing sensation of the darkness that approached the planet surface, it almost made the Sith pity them.

“That’s as far as you go, Sith,” Came a voice from behind. “You will not taint the Jedi temple with your evil…”

The two Jedi who had approached had gone mostly unnoticed. Vicirus had hoped the pair would have simply continued on their way, fleeing like the few others who had populated the city; but alas they, or at least the elder of the two, seemed intent on hindering the Dark Side wherever it surfaced…

Even if that meant confronting a Sith Master.

The smaller of the Jedi, and judging by the young teenager’s wavering presence in the Force, was a Padawan of some tutelage. None the less, when the Sith turned to regard the obstacle, he couldn’t help but notice the similarities in how the pair stood; how the learner mimicked the other; and it was plainly obvious that they were Master and pupil.

The Padawan was firm, unmoving, but his eyes showed his fear; likewise, the Jedi teacher seemed to be more resolute in resolve, especially in through the Force. Perhaps an experienced Jedi Knight, who had been on the verge of becoming a Master in the next few years?

It mattered little.

“This is a sacred place, one where the Dark Side cannot touch,” The Jedi continued, with his student quiet by his side. “Leave now, or we’ll be forced to remove you from this place.”

Vicirus inclined his head, his eyes flashing from one lightsaber to the next. The Padawan had modelled his closely upon the Knight’s, and this meant that they could potentially know the same combat forms; and if not identical, then close enough to be immaterial when confronting them both in combat.

“Very well,” Darth Vicirus said, smiling as he looked to the Padawan. “It appears as though you will have to forcefully remove me… if you can.” And reaching down to his belt, the Sith produced his curve-handled lightsaber hilt; and with a snap-hiss, the blue blade extended with a burst of energy.

Likewise, the Jedi activated their weapons, the matching yellow blades speaking further of the relationship between them. For a moment nothing was said, with the only sound being the energy blades sparking in the rain. Most lightsabers were constructed to withstand water, and short of total submersion the traditional weapons would cope adequately for the imminent altercation.

Stalking forward, Vicirus twisted his blade around in an intricate kata, before grasping the hilt in both hands; while the two Jedi closed with the Sith, bringing their own blades to bare. The initial pass was a mass of quick jabs and prods, each of the combatants testing the other, trying to gauge for weaknesses and how best to exploit them. Unlike their opponent, the Jedi were clearly under trained in the lightsaber art, and the Sith was able to immediately recognize several flaws in their combat technique.

The Padawan, for one, was attacking slightly off-balance; along with the mild limp of his right foot, which indicated some form of injury or sprain; and finally his hand positions were placed incorrectly on the handle that was a little too big for him.

Possibly an attempt by his master to save the pupil some time, and later construction, after he had finished growing to maturity, Vicirus thought to himself, stepping forward and hopping over the Padawan’s attack, while swatting the Knight’s aside.

The Jedi turned, in unison, and came back at the other. Their training had been together, that much was evident, and it caused the Sith Master to reconsider his options. Despite having the greater sabering prowess, it remained that two blades working together was more difficult to handle than simply two blades.

The weapons clashed again, Vicirus keeping himself open to the Force; he felt the surge of power, the clarity that came with his deep battle concentration, and he began to see his enemies as one would read a holoprojection. The Jedi began to alter shape, forming dim limbs around the standard four each had; and in this regard, there became a map of various action possibilities, of which the Sith Master could better assess their movements.

The Sith knew when the Knight moved into the higher potentials that he was going to attack with an overhead strike; and likewise, Vicirus knew that when the Padawan began to lower his arms and body, he was going to sweep for the Sith’s feet… and with a deft horizontal dive, Vicirus passed parallel with the blades, each humming extension passing by above, and below, his twisting form. Landing firmly, Vicirus spun and brought his lightsaber around; and with the speed of the attack, the blade sliced across the Jedi Knight’s flank, sizzling into the flesh of the back of his thigh, causing him to let out a grunt of pain.

“Jo’ian, take his left,” The Knight commanded, his features twisted in discomfort as he turned to keep up with the Sith’s movements. And in the same step, the teacher broke right, the pair spreading out and surrounding Vicirus between them…

It was time to end it, before the Jedi began to coordinate too effectively.
As each opponent came around, Vicirus jabbed his lightsaber toward the Knight, causing the other to deflect and sidestep, locking the blades; while in the same movement, the Sith reached out with the Force and grasped the Padawan. And slipping to one side, the Sith Master pulled the younger Jedi forward, causing him to stumble through the space previously occupied… and directly onto the angled lightsaber of the Jedi Knight, just as the Sith pulled his crossed blade free.

The Knight’s weapon burned through the younger Padawan’s torso, slicing the boy from chest to hip. With a gargle of misplaced lung fluid, the acrid stench of burning flesh filled the damp air, mixing with the sweet scent of fresh rain.

“N-no…” The Jedi Knight stammered, his eyes widening in horror, as he quickly tried to pull the blade back and away from his pupil.

Vicirus didn’t allow the Jedi time.

With a twist of his wrist, the Sith spun the blue blade around, catching the center of the Jedi’s neck, severing his head cleanly. As the disembodied portion of being tumbled to the ground, rolling across the grass with an expression of mixed pain, and sorrow, it was all Darth Vicirus could do to keep from letting out a laugh. The suffering on both Jedi’s faces had been so satisfying… it had filled the Sith Master with a rush of exhilaration, and consequently had awakened the typically controlled thirst for chaos within him.

Turning toward the temple, Vicirus deactivated his lightsaber. With a grin on his face, and a glint in his eye, the Sith Master closed with the ancient building, intent on claiming what he would…

He had noticed the fight between the Sith and the two Jedi as he passed over head and witnessed how quickly the Sith had bested them. He knew it had been foolish of them to try, so now there were two less light siders to keep the balance, which made his task of saving the children even more important.

Demonakos found the group of children and their sole Jedi protector easily enough, being lead quickly and quietly through the streets by a group of royal guards. He watched them as they set out decoy groups and shook his head. That may fool mundane opponents…but not the likes of the Sith and their kin. He thought as he followed them slightly in the air. He was eventually able to figure out that they were heading for the Palace and again he shook his head. Idiots…unless there’s some secret passage out of the city within that would be a death trap.

Time was short, he had sensed three more dark figures starting their approach to the city not long ago. While the first Sith he had found was obviously more interested in the treasures of the Temple, he had a feeling these three would be after some ‘sport killing’. But what to do about it now? Against one Sith he felt he would stand a good chance of a stalemate, to buy the children time, but three? Plus he wasn’t sure if these Sith had their Empire ‘buddies’ surround the planet to prevent escape.

He continued to following them, eventually being forced to land when they arrived at the Palace proper and entered the massive building via a back door: he barely got in the door in time himself without having to resort to turning into mist. Only then, in one of the larger rooms did they stop to rest and Demonakos felt it was the best time to reveal himself.

“I certainly hope there’s some secret passage, else this place will become your tombs.” He said, his dragony form appearing. As he predicted the Jedi and the remaining guard turned toward him in an instant, guns and sabers armed. “Peace!” He said, raising all four forearms in a gesture of surrender. “I may look like the stuff of evil but I am actually on your side.”

“What are you?” A ghostly apparition said, no doubt of a Jedi long dead. “I’ve never seen or sensed the like of you before.”

“It’s a long tale, but there is no time to tell it. The extreme short version is that I’m a visitor from another universe, one that is…concerned about the state of the essence, or Force as you call it, of this one.”

“So you are here to help us?” The living Jedi said, doubtfully.

“Yes…but only because it serves my own interests: I’m not doing this out of my goodness of my heart so keep that in mind.”

“Then why should we trust you?”

Demonakos patience was starting to wean now. “There is no time to debate this Jedi!” He growled, causing some of the children to cower. “Already two of your brethren have fallen and the lot of you will join them if you don’t trust me!”

“But you just basically admitted yourself you are dark side.”

He breathed an aspirated sigh. “Dark…Light…in reality that doesn’t exist. Only the minds behind those powers are Dark or Light, never the power they use. Indeed…one of the biggest ‘goodies’ I know would be technically be ‘Dark’ if you judged him by the powers he used alone. Now will you trust me or not?”

There was a long period of silence before the Jedi spoke. “Alright…but if there is any betrayal…”

“You’ll cut me up into tiny ribbons with that pretty light sword you have.” He said with an amused grin. “You’re free to try and I may even allow it, but know that it won’t ‘kill’ me.”

“So what are you going to do?” One of the guards asked.

It was Demonakos’ turn to be quiet as he thought this over: he wasn’t about to mention his limitations to these people. The problem was a daunting one and he had to think about it carefully. The solution came up with was something of a long shot, but feasible.

“I may be able to mask your presence from the Sith.” He said finally. “Just as I hid my own presence from you and them. However I am not sure how my…abilities will work on you, so you will need to aid me where you can. To do this though we need a quiet place, away from foot traffic.”

“There’s a storage cellar in the lower levels.” A guard offered.

“That should do, take us there. Have some supplies brought down as well, for we don’t know how long this will need to last.”

He shifted his form into that of a human, so not to cause panic among the palace residents. The group was then lead down into the depths of the Palace, Demonakos stopping at junctions to place a spell on the path. When questioned he explained it was to warn them of approach should this plan fail. Once they got to the cellar he did a quick check and found it met his approval.

“If you can dampen, or even mask your Force presence I suggest you do so.” He said to the group as he reverted back to his usual form. “It will help me mask you completely.”

“Per chance we are found anyway, how do we escape?” The Jedi asked.

Demonakos turned his senses to what was beyond the walls and found nothing but dirt, however after probing deeper he found on one side was a cliff not that far away. “There’s a cliff not far from here.” He said. “We’ll dig a tunnel with the Force and my powers to it. Once there…well I’d rather not entertain the idea until we actually have to do it.”

As everyone settled down Demonakos touched each of them, getting a feel of their life source so he could include them in his spell. The ghost he could do nothing about, but that fancy crystal she hides in would probably do the job for her nicely. The last thing he did was take the guard that led them in here to the side. The guard was obviously nervous as to what he could want from him.

Demonakos knew he was a liability: if the Sith got a hold of him no masking would keep the Sith from finding out their location. The best thing would be to kill him, but he realized to do so would put a serious crimp on this groups ability to trust him. So he opted to wipe the minds mind instead with a spell, removing the man’s memories from now to the point where he arrived at the Palace. “Return to the upper levels, you are only to report to your superiors that the Jedi are hidden, but do not know where.” He told the man. The man blinked, zombie-like, before turning and leaving the cellar and the Jedi, behind.

“What did you do to him?” Came the predictable question from the Jedi.

“Simply ensured the Sith won’t use him to find us here.” Demonakos replied. “Bad enough there’s six of them running around with the knowledge you’re even in the Palace. Now…don’t disturb me…I need to concentrate….” He sat on the floor, his forearms pressed together in a prayer like pose, and uttered softly the words of the spell.

He knew that if the Sith sensed him somehow, they may come here anyway out of curiosity. Nothing could be done about that though….

Resistance was not an option. Against a crescendo of blaring news speakers announcing the Queen's quiet assent of Imperial annexation, sirens blared a sinister whine as a swarm of dropships descended upon Theed. The broad promenades and tree-lined boulevards that gave such a sprawling city is peaceful feel allowed shuttles and landing barges to touch down in every corner of the capitol. From the shuttles marched columns of red-tuniced soldiers wearing silver curiasses which glistened in the setting sun.


Symbolic; darkness descends of the Jedi temple world just as we come to stamp out their infestation.


One particular landing barge set down on an elegant bridge designated only for foot traffic and dropped its ramp with a thunderous crash. A trio of wheeled scout cars drove out followed by a long black staff car and some transport craft. Off they rushed through the city's streets scattering civilians before them on trams and on foot with a terrible two-tone siren and red and white strobe lights from the four repulsor-lorries behind them. The column sped on, turning left then right until it breached the compound of the Royal Palace.


General der Inquisition Reinhard Heydrich pushed open the reverse passanger door of the staff car and exited, his tall frame easily rising over the black roof of the car and the heads of his exiting staff officers. He looked around at the entrance corridor, a half circle of marble columns around a flowery court yard, and moved off with long strides after three squads of infantrymen rushing into the interior of the palace.


Inside, the Inquisitoriate men and women were greeted with tall stone etched images of great Naboo citizens of the past, many of them with royal blood in their veins. Polished floors, high vaulted ceilings, and wide corridors reminded many of holos of the Imperial Palace on Coruscant as they cleared room after room. Royal Protectors, the blue and maroon guardians of the Queen, stood angrily by as their weapons were taken from them and herded into groups for registering by the second wave of landing troops.


The soldiers continued to press on, increasingly suspicious of the bloodless surrender. When they entered the throne room, their weapons were no longer at the low ready but instead pointed directly out ready to encounter whatever threat dared present itself. Squads fanned out left and right around the elegant Queen and her retinue; the soldiers lined the walls and lowered their weapons but not their guard.


Queen Carlotta was a young woman, not much older than the wives and sweethearts of the men now surrounding her, sullying her home with their very presence. She stood silent with her advisors and bodyguards around her as a group of Imperials moved out of the simple soldiers at a distance. They were obviously officers for they carried neither armor nor rifles. Having surrounded herself with guards since her election, she knew weapons but could not recognize the stubby pistols at the men's sides. She thought she did, however, recognize the tallest of the group, closing with her steadily. He was lean with a young face and blond hair and sharp features, a not unattractive specimen of the model Imperial. Mentally shaking her head, the Queen realized it was not Grand Admiral Desaria; his hair was black and his uniform was white.


The tall man approached closer, leaving his staff a step or two behind. He clasped black gloved hands behind him, exposing a powerful breast under a uniform of blood red. He spoke with cleaer deliberation. " Your Majesty, I am General Heydrich. I have only one question for you: where are the Jedi?"

He had been left with a sacred task to perform. For the first time in years, Zark Ekan felt not a trace of fear. An Imperial armada was in orbit, rather to rain down death and destruction upon the peaceful city of Theed. Imperial soldiers had already begun to swarm the city proper to secure and solidify their grip over the planet. And the first Sith had arrived on the planet. He could sense them clearly, more clearly than he had ever been able to sense before. Even having all of this in mind, Zark Ekan felt no fear, no anger, no emotion but peace. He could handle combat and death. He had done so before.

Now was not the time for fear or anger or trepidation. Now was the time to wait, and reflect.

Patience was one of the most respected virtues among the Jedi Order. Above anything, a Jedi needed to know when the time was right. Zark had had trouble with that concept in the past, during his time as a Jedi pupil and…during darker times. But now, he understood it so clearly he felt almost embarrassed for not coming to terms with it before.

All around him, the world was a hurricane, but on the roof of the Jedi Temple…it was as if he was in the eye of the storm, calm and beautiful. And in a way, he was. For the Sith’s ultimate goal, he knew, would be the taking of this ancient place. That was why he had been reborn there. That was why they had given him a second chance now, of all times. That was his purpose.

He had to stop it, at all costs.

Adrenaline was pumping wildly through his system, in anticipation for the battle that was to be done before the day was over. The Sith were close now. They would take their time, fearing no resolute opposition. Comfortable in their strength in numbers and fully aware of the Order’s dissolution…of Dolash’s dissolution.

Zark had met the Jedi once at the summit between the Order and the Coalition. At the time, he had sensed the Jedi’s heart to be true and intentions to be good of heart. And maybe when he had shut the doors of the Temple they still had been, but Zark could not have imagined what must have been going through his mind when he had decided the dissolution of the Jedi Order was the best course of action to take.

He pushed that out of his mind. Now was not the time for dwelling in the past or worrying of the future. Now was time for the present, and the calm before the storm. Galaxy…he could feel everything so clearly. How had he not noticed this…gain of knowledge? His thoughts paused briefly at the idea of attempting once more to sift through the jumbles of his memory, but they skipped over the concept quickly.

Now was not the time for the past. Now was the time for the present.

His mind fluttered over Force signatures all over the city, reveling in the clarity in which he could sense them. Three equivalents of mental red dots pulsed in his mind near the city’s spaceport. One was significantly stronger than the other two…as strong as himself, if not more powerful. This was the leader, the Sith Master…

Lupercus... Zark thought to himself, feeling confident in the assumption. He had never been near enough the Dark Lord of the Sith to feel his presence before, so he could not be sure, but he knew not who else it could be. The other two…one must be his apprentice, for it seemed only fitting that the vile leader of the Sith would see this…holocaust of the Jedi as a “training exercise”. But the other…Zark knew not. There were always only two, the Apprentice and the Master. Had Lupercus in his overconfidence deemed himself capable of taking on two apprentices?

If so, it will be his undoing, Zark thought to himself.

His mind shifted to the Queen’s Palace, and to his alarm he sensed faintly the presence of Jedi within the building. Fools! To think that they could hide from Sith in so clear a place…his mind raced as he began to calculate if he could beat Lupercus and the two others to the Palace, but suddenly he felt another signature among the Jedi, incredibly faint and unlike anything he had ever encountered before, and then all of the signatures vanished.

What... he thought to himself, but just as suddenly as the anomaly had occurred, his thoughts were drawn away from the Palace and much closer to the Temple.

Two Jedi, a Knight and a Padawan. Zark had skimmed the surface of their minds early and had taken comfort in knowing their possessed a ship nearby they believed capable of sneaking, undetected, through the Imperial blockade. They had just been making final preparations to leave a few moments ago but now…something was wrong. He could sense it…

His eyes snapped open.

There was a Sith Master.

How had he missed him? Zark cursed himself for being so overconfident. He had not paused to consider that there would be a Sith so powerful that would bother to shroud himself from other Force users. What did the Sith have to fear? A few petty Jedi, left over with nowhere else to go? It seemed a preposterous notion, but there it was, staring him in the face, mocking him. His first mistake.

Even Jedi Masters weren’t infallible.

You’re not a Master yet, Zark…

Was it his own thought or someone else’s?

It didn’t matter. He had to help them…

And just as soon as the fight had begun, it was over. They were both dead. Zark cursed silently once again. Either the Sith was good, or the Jedi had not spent enough time training in the art of the lightsaber…or both. It didn’t matter…they were dead. He had failed them in his brash overconfidence. He had let them die.

Above all things, a Jedi Master must be humble. Pride leads to the Darkside.

He pushed the thought of the two dead Jedi out of his mind. The only thing he could do for them now was protect the Temple. The Sith was approaching the Temple gates, it would not be long before he entered the sacred halls, and then the fouling would begin. He had been charged with the task of preventing that. He could not fail.

As he had meditated, he had been floating a few feet above the roof. Uncurling his legs from his sitting posture, he lowered himself to a standing position. Unclipping the lightsaber Master Jiren had given him before he had disappeared, Zark gripped it tightly. Slowly at first, and then picking up speed, he began to run.

By the time he reached the edge of the roof he was at a full sprint, and he made no attempt to slow down as he hit the edge. With a slight jump, he was falling rapidly toward the ground. Zark reached out with the Force, and instead of pushing against the ground with the Force, he used them to manipulate the air currents. Slowly, he drifted down to land upon the top step of the stairs leading up to the Temple Gates.

The Sith was approaching slowly, no doubt having already seen him.

“Sith!” Zark called out, and the robed figure haulted, “My name is Jedi Zark Ekan, and while I breathe you will not enter this sacred temple! I give you an ultimatum, though I know already what answer you will give. Leave in peace, or try to kill me.”

And with his last words, Zark’s lightsaber hummed to life, aimed downward at the stairs by his side. He grinned.

“Was that dramatic to your satisfaction?”

The woman before him oozed a controlling hypersexuality in all that she did and it was this attempt at control that was why Lupercus had denied her what they had both wanted back on Coruscant. Even now, with the impending destruction of the Jedi and the Sith's rebirth on Naboo coming to a head, he still couldn't get that hedonistic control of hers from his mind.

Not that it showed on his face or in his thoughts.

Especially not on his face, as the Sith was now wearing the polymer facial distortion mask that he had been forced to develop to hide his more destructive tendancies from his Corellian constituents. At the moment it bore his own features, but in a few seconds Lupercus would activate the small electrocurrents through the masks micro-circuitry and the putty like substance would mould into something considerably more non descript than that of the Corellian Diktator.

Before the groups eyes sunlight rushed into the bowels of the cloaked ship which a harsh reminder of the differences between natural light and the artificial one they had come to accept during their voyage.

“The planet is rank of Jedi my Shadow Lord.”

But when Ishara turned to the Patriarch of her order, the face he bore was totally different to one she lusted after. Still, the man responded with the same disdainful force of disgust at the site before him.

"You're right Ishara, but let's see what we can do about that..."

As the trio stepped off the ramp it immediately begun closing behind them, the small discombobulated inside of the ship finally melded back into the invisible nothingness of the crafts Aeten cloak. It was at that point that Lupercus stopped to truly take in the sight before him.

Not a hundred metres away down the slight rise of a grassy hill lay the once proud Jedi Praexium, its massive vaunted towers reaching up into the skies like stiletto daggars piercing into the heart of the cosmos.

And the place, as Ishara had said herself, physically reeked of the Jedi.

Off to their right a squad of Inquisitorate troops was spreading out and establishing a base camp for their battalion as the bulk of their soldiers begun spreading out and seizing nearby tactical strong points. It only took a small effort from Lupercus to have a platoon broken off and sent towards the temple.

The Sith Lord wasn't surprised at the ease with which he was able to control even these harden troops. The amount of times he had engaged the Empires soldiers in battle meditation they were coming to be reliant on his influence. The last people to have been so vital to the Imperial armed forces were Lord Vader and Darth Sidious.

As he watched the troops near the temple Lupercus turned to his apprentice and Ishara.

"Shall we?"

Once again he took off without waiting for a response.

Demonakos was trying to listen to the conversation between the General and the Queen via magic, but since the bulk of this concentration was on masking the Jedi’s presence he didn’t have enough power to get a clear message. He did hear clearly the General demanding to know where the Jedi were and bits of the subsequent reply from the Queen that seemed to say she was telling him they were evacuated or otherwise left on their own a long time ago. The next thing he sensed was some of the troops in the hall spreading out through out the palace: the only possible conclusion he could think of was that the dear General didn’t believe the Queen and had ordered a search of the palace.

“Looks like it we’ll need to make that hole sooner then I hoped.” He told the Jedi.

“The Sith?” The Jedi said wearily.

“No…a bunch of their pet troops. The last I sensed the Sith they were all heading toward the temple.”

“Between the two of us we can handle the troops.”

“Idiot….the Queen is in a rather sticky situation. She just told them that you were all gone and if they find you here her life is no doubt forfeit. Not to mention it would likely justify them to glass the area.”

“You’re right…where do we dig?”

“Far wall, focus on the dirt and stone behind the masonry. I got a trick on up my sleeve that will help hide our escape and to do that the stone work must be undamaged. If any of the young ones are advanced enough in their training to help have them do so, time is of the essence.”

While the Jedi worked Demonakos went about trying to buy time. Using the sensor wards he had placed earlier as access points, he put up a few illusionary walls. Demonakos set the bulk of these false walls at intersections that didn’t led right to them, to help throw them off the right path. They were very weak illusions that at the slightest touch would dispel them: if he had time and power to go to each location personally they would be much stronger. However even weak illusions would likely get the soldiers wanting to check every wall carefully for secret passages, which would buy them time.

It dawned on them that the Jedi’s blatant Force use would likely negate his masking abilities, but that couldn’t be helped. As long as the Sith were more interested in the temple they should be fine. Still, Demonakos didn’t want to take that kind of chance and continued the masking spell while keeping his senses out for the soldier’s locations.

“We are almost through.” The Jedi said finally.

“Alright, stop.” He told them. “Dampen your Force powers as much as you can, I need to drop the masking for this.”

The Jedi gave the little ones a quick lesson on how to do that and once she gave him the nod that they were ready, he dropped the masking spell and turned toward the hole where the tunnel was mostly excavated. He placed his two large forepaws on the wall while his smaller hands moved in an intricate pattern. After a moment an oval shaped hole appeared in the wall, with the tunnel clearly seen now behind it.

“How did you…” The Jedi started to ask.

“No time!” Demonakos snapped. “I sense the soldiers getting closer. Gather up everything that you brought with you into here and go through the hole.”

The Jedi quickly mobilized the children and ushered them into the hole: a few were understandably hesitant. “Won’t they see this?” The Jedi asked when all the children were inside and only she and Demonakos remained.

“Once I am inside I will dispel this and it will be a normal wall again. Now go in will you!”

The Jedi hesitated, but did what she was told. After a quick look back Demonakos followed and with a thought the hole disappeared and the normal wall appeared again once he was completely through.

Darth Vicirus felt the presence of the Jedi long before he physically saw the man. The ripples flowing around from the Jedi’s manipulation, to come to a soft landing, were like a light cast into a darkened pit; as it was so clear when all around was so barren in the Force.

“Sith!”

Stopping, the Sith Master inclined his head as he looked at the other man, casting a critical eye over the new arrival. His stance was one of pride, but also of a deep need to defend something precious, and his eyes were filled with resolve. It was more than clear, even before the Jedi said a word, that an altercation would take place.

“My name is Jedi Zark Ekan, and while I breathe you will not enter this sacred temple! I give you an ultimatum, though I know already what answer you will give. Leave in peace, or try to kill me.”

As Ekan activated his lightsaber, so to did Vicirus flick his own weapon out, the blade humming to life. Seemingly the Jedi felt smug, as he gave a grin and stared the Sith before him down. Apparently the Jedi weren’t prone to constricting the self-image of their members anymore…

“Was that dramatic to your satisfaction?”

“I wasn’t aware you were trying to impress me,” Darth Vicirus said, as he raised an eyebrow, smiling thinly. He took a series of steps toward the Jedi, interested in witnessing how much the opponent-to-be truly knew, or if he was simply filled with a severe case of bravado. “But, in any case, you have given me the ultimatum and I choose to kill you… as, I’m sure you are aware, there is no such thing as try. Or have the teachings of the Jedi changed so much, since last I examined my enemies’ doctrines?”

Coming to the base of the stairs, the Sith Master cracked the knuckles on his left hand, by balling the digits into a tight fist. His right tensed up on the lightsaber between his fingers, and without another word leapt toward the Jedi!

Moving through the air, Vicirus stabbed his blade before him, seeking to impale his opponent. Landing firmly, the Sith stepped to his left, spinning his weapon as he sought to deflect the counter-attack that was sure to come from his initial assault. And ducking low, Vicirus turned full-circle, swiping at the Jedi’s legs; which, in turn, he aimed to cause his opponent to jump into the air to evade the attack…

It was now a matter of who could lead whom, and Darth Vicirus had long since learnt the steps to lightsaber combat.

" Come. Quickly!"


The robed figure, his face hidden by the shadow of a brown hood, gestured to a nearby doorway. The only reply to his command was panting; the kind of hard breathing people started when they were running away from something, or being chased. The robed figure clenched his teeth, a more apt term smacking him mentally in the face.


Hunted.


He moved over to the doorway and pushed it, but the door refused to move. Grunting and summoning what little inner strength he had left, he slammed into the door with a shoulder; still the door did not yield. The sound of an approaching repulsor-lift vehicle shutting down filled the air, beating out the yelling and weapons fire that had in a day come to dominate the atmosphere of Theed. The robed figure tried again to force his entry, but still failed; now he could hear the shouts of the red-clad soldiers that were following them, he could hear the snarl and howl the the beast that tracked them. Urgency was needed, now more than ever.


So be it.


The figure pushed off his hood and exposed a smooth face and deep-set eyes as green as the jungle. From his belt he drew a silver device which with a snap-hiss drove off darkness. There pursuers were nearing making last-ditch options into only options. He thrust the blue blade into the door's frame and sliced out the locking mechanism. A kick sent the door reeling in; again he gestured. On came a youngling not more than a decade in years, then an older girl not even thirteen. The youngling stopped and looked up at the no-longed robed figure and motioned that he should come too. A tear streamed down from his eye as he picked her up and pushed her into the door into the arms of the older child. The door was closed without any aide from an arm, instead forced by the mind of the sabre-wielding man.


" There!" cried a soldier, levelling his rifle down the narrow corridor that was a nameless alley. On came his partner, then his comrades until seven men in armor and helments faced one sixteen year old boy who had never felt the sting of a shaver to his face. Impertinent and defiant, the boy charged with his blade alight and managed to deflect the first shots in a whirr frenzy of arm and wrist motion. The shots that came after found their mark and before the smoke had risen to be pushed by the wind, the boy was dead and his sabre crushed.


" Go get them," called another soldier, bringing forward beyond the body a long snouted beast with tall ears and trimmed fur. Its four eyes narrowed then closed, drinking indetail with olfactory senses honed by countless generations of design. The animal sniffed, and sniffed, and crawled forward, clapping the pavement with each step of its hooved feet. It sniffed once more, this time at a door, then lay down and growled a low sounding growl.


" Good boy," celebrated a soldier, patting the beast on its head before reattaching the collar and his physical control. Another soldier moved forward and kicked the door in. Darkness concealed those inside, but did not shield them. A light on the rifle's stock was switched on and all those in the alley gazed at two very frightened children whose brother had just died trying to protect them.


" Are they Jedi as well?" asked a third soldier, this one carrying more communications equipment on his back than the others. By the way the first soldier quickly drew a scanner an onlooker could tell it was a command, not a suggestion. An answer was found in seconds - their mitichlorians were too high. The ranking soldier grunted under his helmet. " Do it."


The soldier at the van shrugged his shoulders and levelled the rifle at the cowering kids...



Night had robbed Theed of its natural light. The daily ritual turning on lamps and glowsticks had been repeated throughout so that as he looked out from the palace windows, General Heydrich could plainly see the entire capital city spread out before him.


More of a capital town. Such a quaint, provincial place. Perhaps I could retire here. Heydrich dismissed the though of retirement, for there would always be work for him to do. Someone had told him many years ago he would work himself to death, and he did keep odd hours. To keep awake he turned inward to the throne room, to the Inquisitoriate officers seated at various desks and chairs that had only a week ago belonged to the Queen's administration. Reports were coming in from across the planet - the Jedi were being captured.


And eradicated.


Heydrich smiled. He was doing his jos job as only he could. Secure in that knolwedge, he retired to a four or so hour nap so he could be rested, and rejuvenated, and do it all over again tomorrow.

The charge came faster than Zark had expected. He had been out of the galaxy’s eye for some time, and things had apparently changed. Years ago, the Sith would have likely been more than willing to entertain his banter. Zark had known the game well. He would try to sway him from the Darkside, and the Sith would mock him and his beliefs. And so the vicious philosophical debate would rage until the Jedi got too self-righteous or the Sith got too bored.

The paltry introduction that had taken place was a far cry from what Zark had been used to. Which meant one of two things. Either things had changed a hell of a lot since he had been gone, or this Sith was in a hurry, and considered him a minor inconvenience more than a real threat. Zark knew better to believe the former, some things just never changed. So the Sith was feeling a little rushed. Good.

Even so, the initial attack caught him slightly off his guard. His lightsaber lifted, but Zark knew it was too late to deflecting a jabbing attack such as the one the Sith had begun with. Desperately, he improvised by arching his back to an extreme angle and using the Force to support his weight. The blow that would have surely impaled in sailed by half a meter or so above him.

Had he anticipated the dodge, the Sith surely could have brought the saber down and cut him in two, but the maneuver was so unorthodox that, by the time he had realized the method of Zark’s avoidance, the parrying strike that he had anticipated was in place to match the twirling deflection.

The Sith crouched low and swept at his legs. Zark’s originally awkward positioning came to his advantage. Instead of leaping high, as would be expected in a normal situation (and no doubt anticipated and accounted for by the Sith), Zark continued his arch until his free hand reached a stone step of the Temple stairs. Pushing off with his feet and amplifying their strength with the Force, he avoided the swipe with a low sort of backflip, landing further, about halfway up the stairway, and a reasonably ‘safe’ distance from his enemy.

Something was definitely amiss with the situation. With his lack of caution, the Sith displayed his obvious underestimation of Zark’s lightsaber skills and a disregard of him as a real threat, yet he had come at him with the intention of a quick kill. He was definitely in a hurry, but why? By now, the Imperial forces had likely secured much of Theed, and the rest of the planet would soon follow. There was no resistance and no reinforcements on their way any time soon.

So why wasn’t this Sith playing with him?

What was in the Temple that couldn’t wait?

Or who was behind him that he didn’t want to catch up?

Zark was more than familiar with Sith rivalries. It was a part of who they were to betray everyone around them, even their own brethren. Had this particular Sith made some powerful enemies in his Order’s hierarchy. Zark didn’t doubt it. Still, he couldn’t be sure.

Fine by me, he thought to himself, If you want to play sabacc, we’ll play sabacc.

Old energies that had long remained dormant flowed through him, and Zark felt the rush and exhilaration of a deeper connection with the Force. If the Sith wasn’t willing to treat him as a worthy adversary, then he’d just have to change his mind. Pure white sparks lanced up his arms from his hands and spread out across his body. His hair stood on end as the Force energy flowed all around him. Raising his right index finger at the Sith, his pupil less eyes flaring with white light as the bolt sprang forth from his finger tip toward the Sith.

For the first time in a long time, the Spark of the Lightside flowed from a Jedi.

The Jedi was formidable, Vicirus had to admit, and he displayed feats beyond those of most Jedi, but that still didn’t mean he was near the same level as the Sith. In fact, judging by the other human’s evasive movement, the Sith Master started to believe that perhaps Zark was more stumbling through his defence, as opposed to anything else. The Jedi bent at odd angles, and he adopted unorthodox methods of dodging Vicirus’ attacks…

It seemed it was time to change tactics; especially when facing an opponent who went against the norm.

As Zark landed on the steps, less than a handful of meters away, Vicirus smiled. The Sith Master felt the Force energy building up, swirling to surround the Jedi he faced, before flowing through him to permit greater power. The display of energy passing over the Jedi’s body was intriguing, but in the end Vicirus merely prepared himself for the counter-attack that was surely imminent. Bracing himself with Dark Side energy, the shadows almost literally closing with the Sith Master as he began to draw dark power into himself, Vicirus held out a palm as the Jedi spat forth a bolt of energy from his finger tip…

The energy bolt rushed the distance between the two, impacting with the Sith’s gloved palm in a flash. Vicirus, eyes cold as he stared at Zark, closed his fingers around the flowing energy gathered in his hand, clasping a fist before absorbing the bolt. With flash of anger crossing his features, the Sith’s lips pressed into a thin line as he turned his gaze upward, toward the temple roof.

“An inspiring display of power, Jedi,” Vicirus said, smiling as he turned his hand palm-upward, his fingers curled as he summoned the Force, harnessing the newly absorbed energy in the process. “But useless, in the end…”

With the power of the Dark Side, Vicirus began to lift the temple roof just beyond the Jedi. The ancient masonry cracked in protest, but under the Sith’s grasp gave way and rose into the air. Without thinking more on the task, Vicirus pulled his hand toward himself, guiding the path of the object under his control; to which he sent it falling downward above Zark, seeking to crush the Jedi beneath its weight.

The radius of the crumbling roof was enough that Vicirus moved backward, not wishing to fall victim to his own attack, instead coming to a stop beyond the reach of the stone covering now falling from the sky…