His eyes came bursting open, his mouth gasping for breath, drawing in the crisp, burning air down, deep into his lungs. Lightning flashed through from the skies above, dancing across his retina, creating blurred demons in his eyes.


"I am reborn!!" Shouted Ren, his arms leaping into the air in proclamation. "I live! HA HA!"

He blinked once more, clearing his vision, and was greeted by the familiar sight of Maim, although the sensation he felt was not a compulsion to destroy him, but to welcome him in a brotherly embrace.


"My lord! I am alive again . . . I am in your debt." He said before kneeling before his new master.

"Yes, you live by my hand. Now go, to the plains of this planet, and carry out my work. Aid my Sovereign Protector, Dioan Silk, in destroying my Jedi Spawned son. Destroy him and bring me his head."

The Dark Lord looked upon the Sith Master.

"By the way, what do you wish to be called?"

"From heronin, I shall be known as Darth Xion . . .its seems only fitting." He chuckled.

Xion, in the ancient Jedi texts was a phrase used to refer to those 'delivered from grace', or the fallen jedi.

"I will go now and do your bidding my Lord. Your son will be no more."

The Dark Lord extended his hand to a table near the exit of the room.

"Armor and weapons for you. Go now, and serve me well."

The realization came with the armor. It came with the voice and the other glaive... this fight was one he could not win.

Here was an opponent that had trained in the same schools as Silk, learned the same styles and techniques but, was aided by age, expieraince and sheer skill. If this had been the Squall, Silk would stand no chance.

As it was, he stood very little chance now.

In true fashion to the name he had earned so long ago, Silk did not bother with mincing words or stirring emotions, he was the 'Silent Brother' among the Royal Guard.

As he battled the son of his Master, Silk slowly lost his resolve.

This man was a traitor to his Master, Lord Maim. He was a traitor to the ways of the Imperial Royal Guard and he was a traitor to the Dark Side. In all ways he personified that which Silk opposed, he would defeat Silk.

Slowly, his parries slowed and his defenses sagged.

Silk was fighting for all he was worth, with every thing he could imagine and he could not win a foot.

In a mere instant, Silk lost the incentive.

Two fast blows battered the Glaive away from Silks hands, sending it tumbling away into the grass. Before he could recover from the first, another set of blows caught him again and, only by sheer will was he able to call up the Darkforce enough to defend himself. Still, he lost his feet and stumbled back.

In desperation Silk brought his Sith Lanvorok to bear on the closing enemie and released a spray of tiny, razor edged disks at the foe... Only then did his hovering Rodian blade re-enter the fray, having been previously knock aside.

The Jedi Master only spoke one word.

"No."

His glaive held firmly in his right hand, his left was outstretched. Each blade stopped in mid-air before him and hovered, the hands of the force holding them firm. He looked to the Sovereign Protector, the blades hovering mere feet before the Jedi Master.

Then, he shoved forward. All of the disks before him were hurdled back towards their owner with amazing speed. The glaive was now held firmly within both hands again, only to be disengaged. While the blades hurdled towards his foe, in a matter of a second, his glaive/saber was disengaged and twin blades of hard light energy erupted within his hands.

Twin light sabers, with pure white blades, now hummed at his sides. He took an odd stance, one that even the Sovereign Protecter would likely not have seen before, if not for his student's actions before him.

He was ready. These blades had meaning for him. They were given to him by his father and were not used as a reminder of what he faught against. They were a symbol of all he stood for.

He would not die this day without honor.

Behind the titanic tussle bellowed a familiar voice to both Natheniel and Silk. "Somir!! You're fight is over!"


The scarred soil of Vjun crunched under the newly christened soles of Darth Xion's boot as he entered into the sphere of force energy surrounding the battling gladiators.

Xion reached around his back to his slung belt, pulling from it a rather pointy lightsaber. He stood back slightly, while simultaneously ingiting the blade and assuming a position of martial arts, a hyrbid of Sith and Rogue styles.

He let his presence run free throughout the force . . .maybe even Somir would recognise his spirit enough to through him off.


Remember me Nathaniel?, he grinned with morbid glee.

A few things happened in that moment.

One, the disks Silk had unleashed on the Jedi launched themselves back at Silk with equal speed as when they'd been launched. Swiftly he called up the Darkforce in a sheild around himself and managed to deflect the majority of the blades though, a number still scored hits on his armor and cape leaving torn fabric or scarred steel in their wake.

Two, a new signature entered the Force. One Silk was unfermiliar with, but which clearly intended to turn its rage on the Jedi enemy.

Three, in the moment that the Jedi was distracted by the new arrival Silk bridged up onto his feet and tossed his tattered crimson cloak aside. In his hands ignited two twinned lightsabers with near identical hilts. One blade burnt an angry crimson while the other shimmered in silvery-white light.

In that same moment Silk also collected the Darkforce to himself, driving out the pain of his wounds and focusing on the will of his Master. A will so powerful that even over this distance it filled and empowered Silk... if provoked he would show what it truely meant to be the Hand of the Dark Lord of the Sith.

The Jedi Master stood ready to face down both his enemies. He was more than capable of defeating the Sovereign Protector, that much was clear to them both at this point. However, this new arrival brought with it the face and power of his fallen uncle, a touch only his father could have brought to him.

The Master Jedi readied himself for mortal combat. It was likely that some, if not all, of the combatants would die here today. He waited, as he would not attack first, to see what his enemies this day had in store.

Xion edged forward towards Nathaniel, locking gazes with the Jedi master. The hum of his saber growing louder in his ears as he stepped forward.

He lunged forward, faking a blow which Nathaniel easily dodged.

He moved again, swinging some less than purposefull slashes towards the midsection of Somir, again he easily blocked them with his two sabers.

Xion grinned, stepping back. "You are indeed powerful somir, but you cannot defeat us. " He stated, this time stretching forward and unleashed several anger fueled blows with furious speed to the defenses of Nathaniel, causing him to stumble back slight from the pressure of the strikes.

Nathaniel countered, using his double sabers and striking with blow after blow, which Xion managed to deflect.


He then back-flipped from the action and began to pace around Nathaniel.


He would enjoy this fight, his first in his new life.