As the silent warrior advanced, Dacian's gaze became appraising. He held his position for agonizing moments, wavering only from shooting pains. When at last the two met Dacian managed only to feebly block a single swipe of his opponant's lightsaber. The force of the blow was great enough to stagger him and cause Dacian to stumble back a few paces.

It was plain this would be no battle, for all Dacian could do in his defence was waggle his lightsaber feebly in front of him to try and fend his opponant off. This was no deterrant at all. Dacian limped slowly backwards while the implacable Adrian gradually closed the gap between them. Dacian's back finally brushed up against a wall, leaving him trapped and helpless.

The canny young man was not without tricks to play. As Adrian raised his blade to strike Dacian thrust his own into the wall behind him - piercing the fire suppression system and compressed atmosphere tank. Gasses and foam flooded outwards and added to the haze in the hallway, becoming a thick, concealing fog and knocking the two combatants away from the leaking wall.

Dacian collapsed on all fours, struggling to control his breathing so that it did not give away his position. He switched off his lightsaber and with the remainder of his strength began to crawl away.

Whether he could get far enough, fast enough, remained to be seen.

Adrian instinctively hit the deck of the starship with an animalistic grunt and a solid thud. He blinked in confusion; one moment poised to strike down a foe; the next laid on the ground as one vanquished. Ravenna fumbled with the switch of his lightsaber, shutting off the energy blade. He began to crawl away from the billowing clouds of dust towards the ship's cockpit. What the hell was that? It felt like a concussion grenade almost...but I didn't see him throw anything. Thank the maker for battle armor.

Rather thank me.

A frown etched itself across Adrian's face.

Why do you waver? Why do you run? Does a simple parlor trick send the Jensaarai running? Stand your ground and fight. And do not rely on yourself, rely on your ally.

Adrian scrambled up from the ground as if Colonel Howe was still drilling him at Camp Shipwright. He flipped the switch; the ocean blade sprang to life with a snap-hiss. And he fell under assault, but not from Palestar. He choked on the gases released from the fire suppression system. The Susevfian's left arm abruptly rose like that of a marionette, not on Adrian's command, but rather by his ally's. He felt the energy trickle through his veins, from the very life of him, all coalescing towards the open palm. It began to hurt as the energy suffused his hand.

Ready yourself.

The energy flew out of his hand like a shotgun's blast. The gases assaulting his nostril rushed forward in enraged, undulating waves. An unimpeded path arose before him, beckoning him to follow it.

A force push. Should have thought of that. Gases are molecules which can be moved just as any other, although perhaps because it's lighter it's easier to move. He briefly considered the theory. But the Force's ways do not easily mix with those of science.

A dark presence called out to him from deeper within the ship; not ominous or threatening one, but one of a strange mix of pity and depravity, of frustrated rage and lost causes. His eyes narrowed. That man.

Do it. You know where he is. Do it and be over with it.

Adrian nodded to his invisible commander, and began his march towards Palestar.

It didn't take a genius to tell Dacian's plan wasn't working. Even as he scrabbled helplessly away, he could hear the Jenassai warrior approaching with eagle-eyed accuracy. The Force guided every step, so thick in the air it was impossible to miss. Its hand was so strongly at work it was unclear if the intruder's actions were even his own.

Dacian obviously needed more time, and had precious little to secure it with. He did see the door to the medical bay, however, and knowing it was lockable meant he might buy a precious minute or two. He crawled desperately in through the door, and with a mighty effort reached up and slammed the electronic lock. It sealed behind him immediately.

Against an experienced slicer, the door lock might have held for a few minutes.

Against a lightsaber, Dacian had bought perhaps thirty seconds.

Dacian gritted his teeth against pain and got to his feet once more. Casting his eyes around the room for something to help him, he settled on the waste chute. He stumbled over to the chute and popped it open. The uninviting smell of incinerated rubbish floated up. Dacian grimaced.

Then again, there was a reason they installed safety controls. Dacian turned to a small control panel and switched off the incinerator. With nary a look back he climbed halfway in, only to pause.

It was painful, and he was burning precious seconds - he dared not look at the door least it blast open any moment - but Dacian took the time to drag over a canister of compressed gas. Then he climbed back into his chute and waited.

"You don't even know who I am!" Dacian snapped hoarsely. No idea if anyone could hear him.

Adrian stalked through the corridors, ready for a battle which did not come to him. No unseen enemy dropped from a ceiling or from behind a crate to confront him; no enemy stood his ground waiting to halt his advance. It was as if he was a kid again playing make-believe Jedi on some rusting hulk that him and his mother was travelling on. But it did not bother him. He felt enlightened and powerful, at the epicenter of the Force itself. No-one could possibly stand before him, could they? The other man's presence grew even stronger as he approached a set of doors.

Adrian arrogantly flicked his hand at the door, half expecting a Force push to send the door flying across the room. But the door did nothing. He reached for the handle. Locked. My grand crusade halted by a locked door. Pitiful. Ravenna absent mindedly thrust his ocean blade into the door; engendering a fountain of sparks on both sides of the doors; tiny fires flew into the darkness beyond the door and against his sable battle armor. Penetrated easily enough. The Susevfian haphazardly whirled the saber across the door with a previously unknown strength and grace; the door crumbled apart in chunks and clattered onto the floor.

Light began to stream in from the hallway to enlighten what laid in the room before him.

What met him was the grim glare of Dacian, half into a disposal chute and aiming a tube of compressed gas towards him.

With no comment greater than a scornfully curled lip, Dacian swept his sabre through the top of the canister and sent it hurtling in a gout of releassed pressure towards Adrian - as well as filling the room with a thick, white, frosty fog. Pausing not to admire his handywork, Dacian slipped into the chute and let it slam closed behind him. Once it was shut, he used his sabre to weld the door closed behind him and deactivated his blade.

He found himself propped up in a chute, looking down at the deactivated incinerator. The garbage incinerator and airlock release mechanisms must have been among the non-vital systems Zeetee had shut down, which explained why he wasn't being sucked into a fiery doom. Still, Dacian's limbs were weak and the garbage chute hadn't been designed with easy navigation in mind. Silk's personal designs rarely left one entirely without means, however - he knew the value of a quick escape. As such, Dacian managed to feel out hand-grips left in the side of the chute and began to climb.

The waste chute itself didn't run too far, the ship simply wasn't big enough to support its own sewer network. What it did lead to, however, were the air vents, the gaps between walls, the smuggling comparments, and all the little places the canny young warrior might be able to hide. As he inched along the crawlspace, he found a vent from which he could look into the hazy, cloudy medlab.

In the middle of the gas cloud he could see that dreadful humming blue beam, probing, testing, constantly on guard. Against so vigilant a warrior no surprise attack could be possible. Then again, there were... other avenues of attack.

From his concealed position, Dacian summoned up what strength he could to clear his throat and take on a definite tone. "Who are you, warrior?"

Adrian grimly waded through the gases; half-expecting another canister to come flying out at him from angle. He let the Force guide the rhythmic movement of the lightsaber blade around him; the spirit guiding him seemed to aid him with it with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. It was an intricate, defensive dance that no-one would see. Nor could he see; his ocean blade barely illuminated the path to his next foostep (which was hopefully towards the trash chute where he had last seen Dacian).

A disembodied voice rung out through the room.

"Who are you, warrior?"

Dacian. Adrian turned his head towards the voice. It's a trick to lead me away from chute. Why else would he talk to me? Well, he might be an all right ventriloquist, but let's see if he can do it twice...see if his location changes. Adrian cleared his throat.

"I am but a lowly servant. And you?" shouted Ravenna.

He instantly dashed forward a little bit; unwilling to stay in a location where he had just revealed his position. Ah, the door. He pressed against it. Doesn't budge. Well...The ocean blade plunged into the door as if it were mere gel. He began to cut his way to the trash chute.

Crawling along the vents, Dacian found another grate from which to peer into the smokey haze - yes, the intruder was slowly making his way to the garbage chute. Not long now.

He heard his foe's answer, frowning at it. "I am not a servant," Dacian declared. "Not for other men, and not for your master either."

He picked his way slowly around the room, slinking as quietly as possible through the narrow vents to avoid giving away his position. Dacian's opponant, on the other hand, stood tall and proud with lightsabre forwards. Having cut through the door, Adrian would surely be upon him soon. Dacian needed to stall him even just a little longer.

"It is right you call yourself a servant, but maybe you should consider pawn. Tell me, what crime have I committed that you hunt me so?"

"It is right you call yourself a servant, but maybe you should consider pawn. Tell me, what crime have I committed that you hunt me so?"

Adrian paused for a second. A fair question, if I was actually interested in talking to you. He started to press through again, but abruptly halted. Why am I fighting this guy? Couldn't this spirit have found a more suitable champion? I am a mere padawan. Perhaps this spirit wishes to demonstrate it's greatness by showing that it can use even the weakest to accomplish great things. He continued cutting into the door. That answer doesn't make much of any sense; unless this force is ungodlike in its power, which it could very well be. He hesitated again. Frak...well, all I know for sure is that this spirit is powerful enough to force me to hunt this guy. It's like a classic rock-paper-scissors scenario, and this Dacian guy is the paper, and I am the rock, no, the paper. Adrian silently swore. Am I really so guillible to be distracted by that tactic, or is it a valid question I should be asking for myself?...Ignorance is bliss. With that, Adrian force-pushed the cut up door into the disposal. It landed with a thud, and an exceeding noxious smell wafted out of the doorway.

Adrian merely winced as he entered the room.

Dacian crept along narrow vents and air shafts, peering through grates at the progress of the Jenassai warrior through the ship. Every cautious step, every strike at obstacles in his path, brought the intruder closer and closer to the vent system wherein Dacian lurked.

"I see you have no answer," said Dacian, slithering from vantage point to vantage point. "Is that because you think me unworthy to speak with, or could it be you have no answer?"

Another short silence followed before Dacian pressed his point further home. "You do not. A servant has no reason to obey their master's order, they simply do so. Yet you are empowered with the Force - it's hard not to notice its glow - surely that makes you better than a murderous errand boy?"

As Dacian followed the intruder, the distance between the two continued to shrink, with only the wall and a few meters of vent crawlspace now separating them. "I do not know you, and yet by your words and actions I would guess you style yourself a 'servant of the Force'. If that is true, know that you are less than a fool if you will so blindly carry out its will in this matter. You cannot possibly understand what it is you do."

I cannot possibly understand what it is I do? Ravenna snorted as he began to climb the ladder into the ventiliation shaft. Perhaps I do not. But does it matter? There is a reason because that the servant does not disobey the master; the master is more powerful than the servant. And you sir, have not given me a reason to defy a Force spirit more powerful than both of us. Deactivating his lightsaber, the Jensaarai clambered into the ventilation shaft. He hesitated. Well, that was rather loud, he probably knows where I am now...but there's nothing I can do about it now, but keep moving...into an endless maze of gray tunnels...I'm going to get lost.

You will not. Follow your senses; you know where this deciever is.

Adrian crawled. I do now. Dacian's aura seemed fresh among certain parts of the tunnel as if a Coruscant skunk had recently sprayed the path. The Jensaarai began to rapidly crawl through the vents, dispensing of stealth. It would only be a matter of time...