Hello all! My grand series of the Voyages of Targon Karashi is wrapping up with the last two episodes that should be pretty awesome...I hope.

Anyway, I've been busy working on them. But I thought I'd quickly repost the successful Imperial Inquisition, the semi-prequel. Old readers will recognise it, and new ones should find it at least helpful in more understanding certain things in Voyages.

WIthout futher blabbering...

Lord Viruul stared at the pathetic excuse for a Sith that knelt before him. His contempt for the man was concealed by the shadows from his hood. Viruul savored the fear he could discern from the man’s physical features, not to mention the vibrations through the Force.

“I’m almost insulted that I found you so soon,” Viruul snarled. He knew that to the man before him, Viruul appeared as a wraith in the darkness of the room. It was just how he liked it.

The quivering Sith said nothing. His tongue was stilled by Viruul’s menacing presence. That was fine. There was nothing he could say that would do him any good.

“Of course, now that we’re having this conversation, you might lessen the work I’ll have to deal with by confessing now.”

“I have nothing to confess,” the man croaked.

“Indeed?” Viruul stepped close to him. “I beg to differ, Darth Krull. You have pledged yourself to a new master – a heretic and a traitor to the Empire.”

“Lord Toxeti is no traitor!” Krull tried to sound defiant, but the conviction of his voice failed him.

“And now he has embedded his lies in your mind,” Viruul sighed. “Such a pity. Had you confessed and sworn yourself back to the Dark Council’s guidance, you might have had a clean and honorable death. Yet you elect the path of suffering and shame.”

“Toxeti sees past the lies of the Dark Council, past the lies of the Emperor himself!”

“Silence!” Viruul’s voice boomed. “Your blasphemies against us shall end this day. I give you one last chance…repent!”

He knew what the answer would be, but he felt he should at least no one could accuse him of being irrational and deaf to the cries of the penitent.

Krull looked up into the hidden, yet glaring eyes of his oppressor. “I shall not shirk in fear of death anymore! My misguided loyalty to the Empire blinds me no more! Lord Toxeti is my master, and he shall show the Sith the true power of the Dark Side!”

“So be it,” Viruul reached out his hand. Krull rose into the air, vainly grasping at his throat as if to pry away the fingers that enclosed his neck. Soft gurgling noises were uttered from his mouth.

“Where is Toxeti?” Viruul asked. “If you tell me, your suffering shall end.”

“I will not reveal my Master,” Krull rasped. “You and the rest of the Dark Council shall never find him. He will end your reign over the Empire.”

“Toxeti shall die,” Viruul stated matter-of-factly. “None oppose the Empire and live. Your new master shall learn the punishment of betrayal at a greater scale than you.”

“You…will never…find…him…” Krull gasped, the constriction of his throat was nearly complete.

But Viruul was not about to let him die so easily. His grip released and the traitor dropped to the floor. Then bolts of lightning erupted from Viruul’s fingertips, surrounding Krull in the torturous energy of the Dark Side.

“Your master cannot save you,” Viruul said. “Nor would he. He has left you to die for him, yet it shall avail to nothing, except your death as well as his own.”

The traitor writhed in torment, he attempted to scream in agony, but his lungs were unable to. Eventually he went limp, save for the spasms of his limbs from the lingering electricity.

Lord Viruul left the dark room, leaving the body of the disgraced Sith crumpled on the cold floor. He slipped through the halls like a shadow, his long black cape creating a tail behind him, like a dark comet. He came at last to the elevator doors. Two guards saluted him profusely as he approached.

“Take Krull’s corpse to the refresher. His physical remains might yet have some use,” he commanded. The guards silently and immediately complied.

Viruul went into the lift and ascended from the dungeons below the citadel. Upon the lift’s stop, he exited and made his way through halls to an immense conference chamber. Two other Sith Lords awaited him.

“Lord Viruul,” one of them said, “did Krull offer any sort of information?” This man wore a red cloak, liberally adorned with jewelry and trinkets.

“None that serves my purpose, Lord Zelos,” Viruul replied. “But I now see the fullness of Toxeti’s hold over his followers. He has bent their minds to him until they serve even unto death.”

“Then Toxeti has become a far greater threat than we imagined,” said the other Sith. He was a Twi’lek with some hideously sharp teeth.

“Do not give the man too much undue credit, Lord Tiburon,” Viruul said calmly. “Though a threat he may be, his rebellion will not come close to igniting the fires of civil war.”

“Only if he is dealt with swiftly,” Zelos said. “If his influence is allowed to grow, more Sith shall be seduced by his lies and the Empire will tear itself apart.”

“That shall not happen, my friends,” Viruul answered. “Toxeti shall die the traitor’s death, as will all who follow him. I shall see to it.”

“How?” Tiburon asked. “How will you find him? He has gone underground; his forces are mobile and hidden, and he strikes from the shadows.”

“Toxeti’s cowardly tactics leave us in a difficult situation, but I know that the agents to handle this man lie not in the subservient Imperial military or Intelligence, but in the galactic underworld.”

“Bounty hunters?” Zelos was incredulous. “You would trust the task of hunting this heretic in the hands of those scum?”

“I have no intention of hiring the mainstream filth that swarm when we open a pocketbook. There are only four that I would hire for such a potentially dangerous target as Toxeti.”

“And you intend to pay them how? If they are some of the best, they’re price will be unreasonably high,” Zelos said.

“Oh, there’ll be no worry there,” Viruul smiled. “There’s enough jewels on you right now that would satisfy their hunger. And I’m sure you’d be more than happy to part with a few.”

Zelos said no more.

“Who are these men you intend to hire?” Tiburon asked.

“Leave the details to me,” Viruul replied. He pointed to the door. “You two have other matters to attend to, and I have deals to make. Be gone.” He waved his hand and they silently left.

Darth Viruul, member of the Dark Council, breathed deeply. He had much work to do. There was a rogue Sith Lord in the shadows, with goals to undermine the Empire for his own gain. His heresies had to be silenced before they got out of hand. Viruul already had little patience for the dissenting voice of Darth Malgus; he didn’t need another upstart threatening the Council…threatening his goals.

Viruul had his own agenda, and he wasn’t about to let some fool like Toxeti screw it up with his blasphemies. An inquisition was in order.

And, unfortunately, bounty hunters were the agents needed to see it done.

The Abyssal Asylum was aptly named. An inconsequential space station it may have appeared on the outside, but within were some of the most horrible villains and psychopaths the Empire had ever known. It was headed by the warden Quixa, a strange little man that perhaps needed to be locked up in a cell as much as the inmates themselves.

Viruul was reminded how much he detested this sick place as his shuttle landed in the hangar. A troop of fifty guards was there to greet him, along with the warden himself.

As he walked down the ramp, Viruul could feel the tension and awe-struck fear in the minds of his welcoming committee. That was just as well; it would have really bothered him if they weren’t nervous about his arrival.

Quixa scuffled up the Sith Lord. His face was haggard, reinforced by the dark spots under his eyes. The man looked on the verge of hysteria, even if it wasn’t a Dark Council member he was greeting.

“Lord Viruul, we are so very honored by your presence,” he said.

“Where is the rest of your garrison? I would think that you would prepare more for my arrival,” Viruul said.

“Oh, my lord, we have no more men. The rest of the prison’s security force is entirely mechanical and controlled from the central system in my chambers.”

Viruul’s eyebrows rose. “Your guards are droids? Why aren’t there more men?”

“Why, because droids do not get bothered by the inhabitants of this slice of paradise,” the warden replied. “And we don’t have to worry about anyone aiding an inmate in an escape attempt.”

“I see,” Viruul nodded. “I wish to speak with one of the prisoners.”

“A prisoner?” Quixa’s voice cracked. “My lord, what would you possibly want with one of those animals?”

“My business is none of your concern, warden,” Viruul stated. “Take me to the prisoner named Krys Falkko.”

The blood ran out of Quixa’s face, and he turned a deathly shade of pale. But instead of foolishly protesting, he bowed and led Viruul into the complex. Through the halls lined with cells, Viruul listened to the pathetic moaning and maniacal laughter emanating from the walls. As if the very structure were alive…and insane.

A Sith Lord know no fear, but Viruul definitely wanted to get out of this disgusting place as quickly as possible. It was no wonder that the warden appeared the way he did. He had been head of this prison for perhaps thirty years.

Thirty years to lose his mind several times.

It was a painfully long walk through the complex. Appropriately, Falkko had been deemed dangerous enough to warrant his cell deep in the prison, far enough that should he escape, the guards would at least have a chance to stop him.

Arriving at the cell, Viruul notice the pair of guard droids on either side of the cell door. The door itself was heavy durasteel with a small opening with bars across it. And in front of that was a ray shield. Viruul was impressed with the security measures the guards had taken.

“Deactivate the shield,” Viruul commanded, and it was done without protestation. Good, at least this place still understood orders despite the madness.

Peering through the bars, the Sith Lord saw a man sitting in the far corner. He was covered in rags and his hair hung down over his head like a filthy, black mop. But despite this, Viruul could sense the prisoner’s eyes staring soullessly into his own.

“Greetings, Falkko,” Viruul smiled. “I am Lord Viruul of the Dark Council. I have a special job I need taken care of, and I am aware of your reputation.”

The prisoner said nothing.

“I can hardly imagine the pain you have suffered in here, starving for so long, and I am sympathetic to your plight. Here’s a proposition for you…”

Before he could go on, Quixa interrupted him. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but you don’t understand. Falkko is convicted for life, his crimes prove he can never be released.”

“When I require your insignificant knowledge I shall ask for it,” Viruul glared at the man. “Would you please excuse us?”

The warden bowed and left.

When he was gone, Viruul continued. “I am willing to set you free and offer a great reward for your services.”

“Even if you had the authority, why should I work for you?” The prisoner’s voice was a hiss and a growl.

“Anzati live many years, and they starve slowly but surely when denied their nourishment. Your services will see that you never starve again, my friend.”

Falkko raised his head slightly, and his eyes shone like a cat.

“You will release me?” he asked.

“I offer the means to, but you’ll have to do the work yourself. I have other things to attend to.” Viruul began to walk away but he shot back, “You will know when the time for your freedom has come.”

Viruul returned to his shuttle. The warden was there to see him off.

“I take it the prisoner wasn’t interested in your offer?” Quixa supposed.

The Sith Lord replied, “That serial killer needs tighter security. When I have gone, download this into your security system.” He handed the man a small computer chip. “It is a program to boost the power of your droids and shielding without drawing too much additional energy.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Quixa bowed.

The Sith Lord ascended the ramp and took off in his shuttle. He smiled to himself. Well, that was one hunter acquired.

Within the hour, Quixa downloaded the files into the security.

A guard on patrol made his miserable trip through the higher-security halls, and noticed something odd about the guard droids. They were limp and the occasional spark zipped out from their joints. The guard went in for a closer look, and he noted that the ray shield was deactivated. Going in for further inspection, he looked through the bars for the prisoner. He wasn’t where he could see – and the prisoner hadn’t moved from where he had sat for over a year.

He turned on his comlink and prepared to call it in when he felt breathing down his neck. Two snaky objects grabbed his face and crawled up his nostrils. The guard was unable to move or speak. It felt as though his brains were being melted and sucked out his nose.

A thin pale hand reached down through the bars and grabbed the guard’s keycard. When the guard fell to the ground, completely drained, Falkko opened the cell door.

No alarm went off. The droids remained still and slumped. “The Sith was true to his word,” he muttered to himself.

Without taking any time to enjoy the sudden openness around him, Falkko picked up the dead guard’s gun and made his way through the hall. He felt so full of energy; he hadn’t eaten for longer than he cared to remember. Now his freedom was at hand, and there was food to be had beyond this blasted space station.

Upon entering a hall, he found two guards, suddenly aware of his presence. The first drew his blaster, but Falkko fired first and he fell.

“Drop it!” the second guard shouted. His blaster was already out and pointed at him.

Falkko pointed his weapon right back.

“I said drop it!” the guard yelled again, and then fired. Falkko dove to the ground, rolled, and then shot his opponent.

The complex rocked from an explosion, and the alarms sounded. Not of an escaped prisoner, but from fires in the living quarters and stations of the guards. Falkko smiled. This Sith had thought of everything.

He continued making his way unhindered to the personal hangar, where the warden’s shuttle rested. He entered the hangar, finding Quixa rushing to his ship. Falkko shot him in the leg and the sickly man screamed as he dropped to the ground and saw the Anzati.

“No! NO!!” the little man screamed.

Falkko grinned hungrily. For the chance to dine on the prison’s warden, he was ready to do this job for the Sith Lord.

Viruul’s shuttle was cleared for landing as it approached the moon of Nar Shaddaa. As far as the Sith Lord was concerned, the planet of Nal Hutta was the manure from the galaxy’s rear end, and its moon was the swarm of flies that circled it. He felt he could smell the rank pair even from this distance.

His companion seemed to think likewise.

“Lord Viruul, if I may,” Tiburon began, “why do you need me to come along with you? I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself on the Smuggler’s Moon.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Viruul responded. “I don’t need you for protection, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have brought you along. No, I need you to contract the second man. There are two of my prospective agents here, and I don’t have time to track them down one at a time.”

“You want me to hire a bounty hunter?”

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Viruul gave a sarcastic smile at the Twi’lek. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve got your natural charm to work to your advantage.”

“Well, who is it? And how would you like me to proceed?” Tiburon asked.

“Do you need me to hold your hand?” Viruul asked.

Tiburon became indignant. “I’m not a diplomat, I’m an instructor at the Academy. I’ve never worked with criminals before.”

“Well, consider this your first pointer, my friend – don’t refer to bounty hunters as criminals. It gets them riled. As to your man, his name is Hel Katarn, a Zabrak you’ll find in the nightclub called Asarii’s Rave.”

“I guess from the name…” Tiburon began.

“You would be right, “ Viruul interrupted. They had landed and Viruul pointed to the ramp. “Off you go, and be quick. We don’t want Toxeti to get stronger while we’re busy hiring.”

“And what if he’s not interested? How should I persuade him?”

“Bite him,” Viruul smiled. "You're good at that, and it will make your point clear."

Tiburon bowed and left. Viruul left a little later, locking up the shuttle as he departed.

The club was everything Lord Tiburon expected, plus some. The lights flashed on and off in a wild assortment of colors. The patrons danced and drank and made love continually, and then switched to another of those activities, and then again, and again. It was enough to make Tiburon sick. But he endured.

It was difficult trying to navigate through the orgy, and to concentrate on his task with the music blaring. He felt the beat in his heart, and he might have a seizure from the bass – and the lights too.

There was a large crowd gathered at the far end of one of the bars. A crowd made mostly of women. Tiburon made out the sound of a loud voice in their midst, and with a little focus through the Force, discerned the subject of the speech as a boasting tale of successful hunts.

Tiburon smiled. Well, he had found the bounty hunter.

He made his way over and waited for the Zabrak to finish his story and the crowd to disperse. Which meant he was waiting a long time. Yet finally his opportunity to speak with the man presented itself.

“Mr. Katarn, I presume?” he asked.

The bounty hunter turned with a drink in hand. He raised his eyebrows in response to seeing the man before him.

“Whoa, dude, you gotta leave,” he said drunkenly.

“I beg your pardon?” Tiburon cocked his head.

“Hey man, ugly people need to stay away from me in at least a twenty meter radius. They drive the good chicks away. And you, pal, are ugly.”

“My name is Lord Tiburon.”

“I don’t care what you call yourself, buddy,” Katarn put a hand on Tiburon’s chest to push him away. “All that I care about is my drink and the lovely ladies, neither of which I can enjoy if you’re contaminating my space.”

Tiburon’s eyes grew angry. He grabbed the bounty hunter’s hand. “You should rethink how you speak to a Sith Lord.”

“Oh, what, you’re going to pull a saber in here? Pal, you’d be dead in a minute flat.”

“No,” Tiburon snarled. “No sabers.” And with that, he suddenly shoved the Zabrak to the bar’s surface, holding one of his arms up in an awkward position. He then proceeded to bite the man’s hand.

Katarn shrieked. “Argh! What are you doing? Ow! Are you crazy? Ow! OW!!! Stop it!!”

“Are you ready to listen?” Tiburon asked.

“What do you want?” Katarn asked, his face still held against the counter.

“My superior, Lord Viruul, has a job for you. You will be contacted by my master with the details of the task. The pay will make it well worth your time.”

Katarn said nothing, and Tiburon let him up.

The Twi’lek left the club, feeling oddly refreshed at his domination of the bounty hunter. He wondered how he seemed more capable when he was angry – empowerment from the Dark Side, no doubt.

Maybe that was why Viruul spoke so rudely to him. Perhaps he understood how to access Tiburon’s strength through his anger?

Viruul stood still and silent in the grim alley. The only sounds were the exterior vents of the buildings around him and the faint sirens in the distance.

But the Sith Lord knew he wasn’t alone. He noticed the shadow moving subtly through the air. It came to a rest on the roof of the structure to Viruul’s right, and it remained there waiting.

“Hello there,” Viruul waved to the shadow. “I am Lord Viruul of the Dark Council, and I have come to seek your services.”

There was a brief and brooding silence.

“How did you find me?” a cold voice asked. “Even the Sith cannot locate what they cannot see.”

“You underestimate our abilities, bounty hunter. But we have more important things to discuss – like a job.”

The shape dropped to the ground with a loud thud. Loud footsteps approached Viruul, but to the common eye, there was nothing before him. Suddenly a surge of electricity outlined the shape of an extremely tall humanoid. It towered over the Sith Lord.

“I’m listening…” the giant said.

“The details of the job are on this datapad,” Viruul held out his hand. The screen was lit, with the file already opened.

The bounty hunter took the datapad with a bit of a snarl. “I’ll consider it.”

“I’m sure you’ll be very interested,” Viruul said. “Oh, and I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name. You leave no trace of your previous jobs for me to easily look you up.”

“I like to keep it that way, Sith. I am called the Phantom.”

Viruul smiled. “A fine title, fitting for such an enigmatic fellow such as yourself.”

He walked off, and the Phantom faded back into the shadows with his cloaking device. Viruul could still feel his presence lingering. “He will take the job,” he said to himself. “He’s too good to turn it down.”

Viruul reunited with Tiburon back at the shuttle. He was glad that Tiburon’s first hiring task had been successful.

“Now there’s just one left,” Viruul muttered, with an uncharacteristically pessimistic tone.

“What’s the matter?” Tiburon asked.

Viruul sighed. “The last one will be the hardest one to convince to signing on. He has other priorities and motivations…far greater than money.”

Viruul sent an unimportant acolyte to approach the bounty hunter known only as Shazzar. The Sith Lord knew well that if approached at the wrong time, the bounty hunter would flatly refuse halfway into the second sentence. And that refusal usually entailed a blaster bolt to the face. Such character was what Viruul really wanted; he just had to entice it the right way.

He may have known how Shazzar would respond, but he had no idea just to what degree the bounty hunter would reply to a really bad time.

Shazzar stood in the middle of the cleared room. All the furniture had been moved towards the walls. He had undressed himself to all but his undergarments. His serpent tattoo on his arm appeared more prominent on his tanned skin. His eyes were closed, and the hair he had let grow out was slicked back and tucked behind his ears.

His wife was sitting across the room, mixing up some sort of body paint. She soon rose and walked towards Shazzar. She too was dressed in the bare minimum, though far more covered than he was – for propriety’s sake.

The Togruta dipped her fingers in the white liquid and then ran them along Shazzar’s skin. She maintained a strict pattern across his chest, backside, and shoulders. Slowly and gently, she replicated her facial markings on Shazzar’s face. Thick around his eyes, and three dots running down his cheeks.

She then put down the bowl and grabbed a small vial. In it was a blue compound, which she dabbed on her fingers and adorned more decoration on Shazzar’s face and around his tattoo, so that the snake became blue, instead of black.

Shazzar smiled pleasurably during the process. The soothing touch of his beautiful wife eased the passive tension of his muscles. He was struck with sudden ecstasy when she suddenly began rubbing his head, bleaching his ebony hair with the paint, and then running streaks of blue through it.

“I’ll be sure to plan more trips to Shili, my dear Vaala,” he said softly.

“The ritual of cleansing off-worlders is a great honor,” his wife responded. “More so for the one who initiates the visitor.”

Shazzar reached up and petted one of her head tails, stroking it lovingly. “The greatest glory in all the galaxy is loving you,” he said, without opening his eyes. He didn’t need to see to know that she had dressed him up so that he came as near to a member of her people as a human really could be.

She was finished, and she breathed gently on his skin to help speed the paint drying. Shivers ran through his body, his nerves perked up in excitement.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, smiling ever so kindly. She returned the smile, and they embraced. Shazzar kissed her more passionately than usual – which was an incredible feat. But for the first time, she was more intense than he was; Shazzar thought it all the better.

Shazzar was about to lead her towards where the bed had been moved to, when the unthinkable shattered his sacred moment. A sacrilegious, wicked pounding on the door, that echoed through the room like an abominable howl.

At first they tried to ignore it, but when it repeated, Shazzar – with immense reluctance – grabbed his blaster and headed to the door.

Viruul was surprised to learn the messenger had returned so quickly. He anxiously waited for him to come into the conference room. Zelos and Tiburon stood at either side of his chair.

Two soldiers carried something covered on a stretcher, and another followed with a curious package.

Viruul ordered Zelos to remove the sheet over the stretcher, and the Sith Lord obeyed. When he did so, he almost lost his stomach.

Standing in shock, Viruul took a closer look for himself. The stretcher held the acolyte’s body, but his head was missing. The trooper holding the box handed it to him, and Viruul felt immense disgust rise in his own interior.

The acolyte’s head, with a big black hole in the middle of it. Alongside it was the datapad Viruul had sent with the job details. Written in the unlucky messenger’s blood said, “Try Again.”

Viruul then smiled. At least he hadn’t completely refused. He was going to have to go himself.

Shazzar was waiting for him, dressed in his complete regalia – clothing, armor, turban, rifle slung on his back, and blaster pistols in their holsters. They met in a public park on Dromund Kaas. Viruul’s optimism rose. The bounty hunter had actually made the trip himself.

“Greetings, Shazzar,” Viruul nodded. “It has been quite a while.” He noted how, while concealed by his clothes and turban, Shazzar’s visible skin on his face was colored.

“Were it anyone other than you,” the bounty hunter said grimly, “I would have completely ignored them. Maybe even killed them as well. Don’t you dare call on me again at a time such as that.”

Viruul was perturbed by the bounty hunter’s boldness, but that was what he liked about the man. He didn’t feign weakness, even in Viruul’s presence. He was strong.

“I’ll cut the formalities,” Viruul said. “I have a problem with a traitorous Sith named Toxeti. Left unchecked, he could threaten the Empire. I want him taken care of.”

“Yeah, like it usually is,” Shazzar shrugged. “Dead or alive?”

“I’d prefer if he weren’t entirely dead, so that I might exact the Dark Council’s judgment on him. His heresies must be brutally squashed. Publicly as well.”

Shazzar nodded. “And have you contracted others?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you need me?”

Viruul replied, “Four hunters can flush the tukata beast out easier than only one.”

“Metaphors again, eh? I don’t think I’m interested. I’ve got other things to do, and I told you before I have my priorities.”

“I see,” Viruul said.

Shazzar started to walk away. Viruul had to think quickly to keep him from disappearing. “How does ten million credits sound?”

The bounty hunter stopped short and turned on his heel. “Excuse me? Do you think that a ridiculous amount of money is going to change my mind?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Viruul smirked.

Shazzar walked back to the Sith Lord and stared him straight in the eye. “I’ll tell you what – make it one million, and the Empire kills Grand Moff Kilran.”

Viruul’s eyes widened. “What? How dare you…?” he stopped from getting angry. “I’m afraid I can’t promise you that. Imperial politics are much more complicated than you might think. Why would you want him dead anyway? He’s done nothing to you.”

“He butchered my wife’s people,” Shazzar growled.

“Oh, I see…” Viruul mused. “I can only promise you one thing – Kilran won’t harm the Togruta people without my extreme opposition.”

Shazzar sighed. “That’s probably the best you can do.”

“My support is worth more than it appears, my friend.”

The bounty hunter shook Viruul’s hand. “I’ll get rid of your heretic problem. But you’d better not interrupt my evenings again.”

“You have my word,” Viruul smiled. Now he had his four bounty hunters. It was only a matter of time until Toxeti was dealt with. The price to pay was irrelevant to the ultimate result.

Viruul left the meeting, and headed off to resume his more tedious political work. And he had to come up with a lie to give to the rest of the Council. Nobody else was to know of this inquisition, for now – so Toxeti would never have an opportunity to prepare.

Hel Katarn was upset that he hadn’t been given even a single lead to start on. And unknown to him, it was because Viruul didn’t have one to give.

But Katarn knew someone who would probably have information to get started. A Weequay by the name of Xum was Katarn’s most reliable source for all activity in the underworld. A former pirate, Xum knew all the space lanes, and he kept tabs on any ships that traversed them even now. If anyone knew where a rogue Sith Lord might be hiding a small fleet, Xum would.

The only problem was, Katarn remembered, was that they had recently had a falling out.

Xum’s hideout was in a restaurant on Coruscant, where he could hack into the Coreward Database and get all the information someone wanted – for a price. Katarn wasn’t one that he was likely to do business with anymore.

Well, Katarn thought to himself, that didn’t matter much. He’d just stick a blaster in the guy’s face and there shouldn’t be any problems.

It was evening when he arrived at the Orochi Grill. Already it was getting full of patrons and diners. Katarn easily bypassed the security that had the odd notion that he wasn’t welcome. It took a broken nose for the guy to realize that Katarn was going in, wanted or not.

Spotting the Weequay watching the diners in a doorway across the restaurant, Katarn made his way as smoothly as he could. However, a waitress droid rolled by, carrying a mountain of dirty dishes. The two collided, and the dishware fell with a might crash to the floor, the droid apologized in an annoying synthetic voice.

Katarn tried to get away from the accident, but Xum had already seen him. The Weequay’s face grew frightened, and he rushed off, closing the door behind him.

Great, Katarn sighed, now he was going to have to chase the guy. He really wasn’t in the mood for pursuing, but it’s what the job called for.

He pulled out a blaster and made sure that everyone stayed out of his way. He then followed the Weequay’s trail to the back door to the restaurant. He spotted Xum climbing into a speeder he had parked near the garbage canisters. The engines fired up and before Katarn could do anything, Xum had sped off.

Wasting no time, Katarn fired a wrist cable up to the top of a nearby building and pulled himself up. He waited until he could jump onto a passing speeder. The Duros driver exclaimed in surprise.

Pointing the blaster at his face, Katarn said, “Out,” and the driver fell screaming to the pavement. Then Katarn took the controls and with engines screaming he pursued after his former associate.

Putting on his tracking visor, he pinpointed his target dead ahead of him. Instead of gunning straight on his tail, he pulled upwards and hovered above Xum’s speeder. He accelerated to match the Weequay’s speed – which happened to be slowing down, as the fool was deceived into thinking that he had lost him. Katarn stood up on the seat and prepared.

He was probably going to regret this.

Katarn leaped, and he was airborne for several nauseating moments. His hijacked speeder crashed into another passing vehicle, but Katarn was well clear of the explosion. With a painful thud, he landed on the hood of the Xum’s speeder.

The Weequay screamed in fright. He had been taken totally by surprise. Swerving the vehicle, he tried to shake off the bounty hunter.

Katarn activated the magnetic clamps on his gauntlet, so he remained on the speeder, though the rest of his body was flailed about violently. He struggled to direct his blaster towards Xum, shouting, “Stop this! I just want to talk!”

“Then talk!” Xum shouted back, still swerving like a drunk driver.

“I need information on a Sith Lord keeping a fleet of stolen ships – where he’s hiding and how to get to him. If you stop this…” he felt himself almost throw up. “If you stop screaming and help me, I’ll cut you in on ten percent of the bounty.”

“Fifty percent!” the Weequay demanded.

“Twenty-five.”

“Thirty!”

“Twenty-five, and I’ll hook you up with some of my lady friends!” Katarn shouted, desperate for his ride to stop.

Xum’s eyebrows rose and he stopped his mad driving. Katarn heaved a sigh of relief. He slowly climbed his way towards the window of the speeder and climbed into the passenger seat.

“You have a deal,” Xum said. “Now, I don’t know anything about any Sith Lords. But do you have a name I can work with?”

“The man’s name is Toxeti, and he deals in the underground. I figured he’d probably crossed your path.”

“No, not exactly. I have heard the name before. There’s a guy that goes by the name of Crage. He’s Sith, though he tries to hide it. He represents some mysterious fellow called Toxeti. Probably your guy.”

“What does he do?” Katarn asked.

“He contracts mercenaries, borrows from loan sharks – and then kills them, and they say he’s recruiting Jedi and Sith that are disenfranchised with their parties.”

“Sounds like a connected fellow,” Katarn smiled. “Where do I find him?”

“Usually he comes to you… I don’t know how you’d get a hold of him, but Alen Heigren might.”

“Heigren? He’s a bookie. What would he have to do with the Sith?”

“Well,” Xum lowered his voice. “Word is Crage collects ‘protection’ from Heigren. He’s killed anyone who doesn’t pay him what he demands. He probably takes the money he collects from criminals and helps fund your Sith target’s fleet.”

The speeder came to a stop at a crowded platform. Katarn prepared to get out.

“Thanks for the info, Xum. When this job’s done, I’ll see that you get your cut. And your date with one of the better girls.”

Xum’s face seemed contemplative. “It’s odd that you showed up asking these questions when you did. I already had someone else inquire on the same thing – though they didn’t go about it like you did.”

Katarn frowned. “Someone else was asking about Toxeti? Who? Did you tell them what you told me?”

“No, I didn’t. They weren’t as devoted to catching me as you.”

“That’s good, Xum, but I can’t take any chances.”

Katarn raised his blaster and fired at the Weequay’s head. Screams abounded on the platform. He pushed Xum’s body out of the driver’s seat and watched it tumble to the bottomless depths of the city. Then he fired off the engines and thought about what he had just done. He had just sealed a potential leak of information to the competition, he told himself. After all, it wasn’t like they were friends anymore.

Katarn just hoped nobody else knew what he had learned.

Shazzar walked into the country club on Corellia that was an illegal gambling den run by his old friend Alen Heigren. It wasn’t as nice as he remembered it. The furnishings were old and needed to be replaced, and the utilities desperately needed to be repaired. That was incredibly odd.

Alen never kept the same appearance in his club for more than three months. He always bought new stuff to change the place’s image. Was he running low on funds?

A greeter stopped him. “Sir, do you have a membership to this club?” he asked.

Shazzar replied, “Please let me through. You’ll live a whole lot longer.”

“Threats are not taken kindly here,” the man said. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have to call security.”

“Just try it,” Shazzar smirked.

“That will not be necessary,” a familiar voice said from behind. A smiling and handsomely sharp Zeltron walked up. His hair was a mesmerizing blue, just as Shazzar always recognized. And the warmth of his pink skin gave him a glow of cheeriness.

“Do you know this man sir?” the greeter asked.

“Know him?” the Zeltron replied. “Why this is my friend, Shazzar. And do make a note that from here on he is always to be admitted.”

The greeter took this time to depart in shame at his foolishness.

“Thank you,” Shazzar said. “It’s good to see you again, Alen.”

“Come!” Alen clapped his old friend’s back. “Let me take you to my table.”

The Zeltron took Shazzar to the exclusive areas of the club. However, to Shazzar’s dismay, they too were in disrepair. Something was highly suspicious about this.

“How have you been Shazzar?” Alen asked. “It’s been far too long since you last visited,

almost two years!”

“I’ve been well,” Shazzar answered. “I’ve been more than successful.”

“That’s great, just great!” Alen grinned. Shazzar noticed that his smile was taking extreme effort. Like Alen was forcing it.

“Is something wrong?” Shazzar asked.

“Wrong? Why would you think a thing like that?” Alen denied. “And to prove it, why don’t I bring a couple of girls over here and watch how today’s races go on the viewscreen. People are betting the same as they always have.”

“And you’re still fixing the races like you always have?” Shazzar supposed.

“You know me too well. So, how about those girls?”

Shazzar shook his head immediately. “I don’t have an interest in wanton girls, my friend. You go ahead and have your fun.”

Alen’s eyebrow rose, and he sensed his guest’s feelings through his empathy. “What? Did you go and get married, Shazzar? You?”

“Is it all that surprising?” Shazzar asked.

“Well, no…” Alen stopped and noticed the little skin he could see around Shazzar’s eyes. They weren’t the proper color. He reached over and pulled the cloth off Shazzar’s face and smiled when he saw the white paint, and the dyed hair. “Are we going Togruta these days?”

“I got married a little while back, Alen, and we are going to Shili.”

“Well I’ll be!” Alen laughed. “I would never thought it of you.”

Shazzar took a sip of a drink Alen had a waiter bring for him. “Unfortunately, I’m doing a job right now…for the Sith Empire.”

“The Sith are bad news,” Alen said solemnly. “What do you need from me?”

“I’m looking for a rogue Sith named Toxeti, do you have any connections that might lead me to him?”

Alen’s face tried to keep on a mask of cheerfulness, but it was failing.

“What’s wrong?” Shazzar demanded.

“What? Nothing.”

“Come on Alen, I’m not an Zeltron, but even I can sense when my friend’s distressed. What’s the matter?”

“There’s a man who works for some fellow named Toxeti. He’s been bleeding my winnings dry. Maybe you noticed how everything is not up to standards?”

“I did. What is he? Exchange? Black Sun?”

Alen’s face grew sullen. “No, he hits up them for credits too. His name is Crage, and the rumors say he’s Sith.”

“I see,” Shazzar nodded. “I’ll take care of him for you.”

“You will?”

“Of course, now point him out to me.”

It was then that a dark faced man walked into the club. He was dressed in unimposing clothes, and he didn’t appear to be armed. His blond hair was pulled back into a small braid. Shazzar didn’t need to hear it from his friend. Alen Heigren’s problem had just walked into the room.

Standing up from the table, Shazzar whispered, “You’re definitely going to need new furnishings.” He then walked on an intercept course to Crage. The man was overtly irritated when Shazzar approached him.

“Get out of my way,” the man growled.

Shazzar didn’t move. “You and I need to have a little talk.”

“I don’t talk to scum that I can wipe off my boot,” Crage sneered. He then tried to go around him.

“Where is your master?” Shazzar asked. “Where is Toxeti?”

Crage stopped and whirled around at him. “Bounty hunter filth!” he barked, and then thrust his hand at Shazzar’s chest. Shazzar was hurled through the air and landed on a table. In response, Shazzar then pulled out two of his pistols and opened fire. Such confined spaces were not the place for his rifle.

The Sith revealed himself by drawing his lightsaber, deflecting the shots at him. He then charged forward, ready to chop Shazzar in half.

Shazzar got off the table and backed away to put distance between him and Crage. He continued to fire at him, piling on the pressure. However, this Sith was able to block every shot, not only frustrating Shazzar, but also causing panic to grow exponentially among the guests.

Crage leaped to close the distance, and Shazzar leaped out of the way. But the Sith didn’t arrive at his intended location. A cable wrapped around Crage’s leg and yanked him to the ground. Shazzar turned to see the interloper. It was a Zabrak, covered in gadgetry, and his eyes were concealed by a shady visor.

Another bounty hunter, Shazzar sighed. Not one he recognized…but then, Shazzar didn’t know many others – and most he knew he had killed.

Crage recovered quickly, cutting the cable from his leg. The new bounty hunter tried to fire at him with his pistol, but again he was able to deflect it. Shazzar bounded across the room and kicked Crage’s arm, knocking the lightsaber out of his hand. But then Shazzar felt himself be knocked aside by an invisible force. But it wasn’t Crage’s magic, it was something physically strong and hard.

Shazzar landed on yet another table, and he refrained from getting up immediately so that he could appear less of a threat as he saw who his competition was.

He noticed Crage was struggling under the weight of something on his chest. But there was nothing there that his eyes could see. However, the Zabrak – with his visual amplification visor – was taken aback by the enormous person holding Crage down with his foot.

“Where’s Toxeti?” the giant demanded.

“I’ll never tell any of you!” Crage shrieked.

The newcomer deactivated his cloaking generator and the retractable blades on his gauntlet sprung out like two massive switchblades. “I carve the information out of you, then,” he said.

“You kill him and I’ll kill you!” the Zabrak shouted. “I caught him!”

“Did you? From what I can tell, he’s the one who’s holding him down,” Shazzar got up and moved forward.

“Stay out of this, bud,” the Zabrak said. “You didn’t do anything!”

It was then that Crage caused a burst in the Force and released the Phantom’s hold on him. He fled from the club and out into the nearby woods. He ran fast enough that he lost his attackers before they could pursue. Once he was well into the trees, far enough away from the country club, he pulled out his comlink.

“We’ve got a problem,” he whispered. “The Dark Council has sent bounty hunters to hunt for Toxeti.”

“There’s nothing to fear,” the voice on the other side replied. “They will never find our master. Viruul hunts for him in vain.”

“They found me,” Crage said. “There are at least three of them…”

Something knocked him to the ground. His comlink shut off when it struck an outgrown root. Crage moved to grab his lightsaber, but when he caught a glimpse of who his attacker was, he was unable to move.

His face was pale, but eerily handsome. Most of his long hair hung down like a willow tree, but some was up in a stiff braid. His teeth were sharp and animal-like. He wore a teal body suit that was sensuously smooth, like the most expensive silk. In everything, he appeared pleasing and horrifying at the same time.

“You’re going to make a fantastic delicacy,” the man’s voice said softly. Crage was completely mesmerized, washed entirely with sheer terror. “Would you like to tell me where Toxeti is?”

Crage didn’t answer.

“Oh well, I’ll have to find him later,” Falkko shrugged. “But for now…” his proboscis’ emerged from his cheeks like two eels from their caverns. They snaked their way towards Crage’s awaiting face, and then probed up through his nasal cavity to the source of the Anzati’s soup.

The forest was deathly silent.

The three bounty hunters eyed each other angrily in the now empty club. The guests had all fled from the scene of battle – as had their target.

Shazzar studied his competition. The giant was absolutely huge, not to mention armed to the teeth. Stealth generator, retractable wrist blades, stun rifle mounted on his shoulder, covered in armor, blasters of all sorts of make dangling in holsters; Shazzar had to admit to himself that he was intimidated. But not enough that he couldn’t fight this guy if he had to.

The other man – a Zabrak, was a more typical kind of bounty hunter. He had the granted pistol, and also a wrist cable, magnetic gauntlet, body armor, baggy pants, two belts, targeting visor, and a full pack of other stuff. Typical. He was ripped with muscles, his face was “perfectly chiseled” and decorated with a few cultural tattoos. His horns were sharpened and healthy. From what Shazzar could tell, this fellow looked like the textbook, self-made ladies-man. Everything a loose girl could want. He and Alen would likely view each other as major competition.

For a while longer they glared at each other, unsure of what anyone would do. Would they kill each other? Would someone propose a truce? Shazzar knew what he really wanted, and he voiced it.

“Alright, we’ve lost our mutual lead, and the authorities are undoubtedly on their way to arrest the participants in this mishap. I suggest we all just walk away and continue our hunt.”

“Just walk away?” the Zabrak asked mockingly. “What? Are you afraid to fight? Too much of a helpless bantha?”

“I’m not eager to get in a pointless firefight,” Shazzar replied, not allowing the insult to get to him. “I’ve got a job to do, and I’m going to get it done. Are you two as devoted to your job?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” the Zabrak said in a most irritating tone of arrogance.

“A pointed one,” the giant said softly. “Obviously since you’re still out to argue and fight, little horned man, you’re not interested in finishing the job.”

Shazzar sighed with relief that the large bounty hunter was more insightful than the Zabrak. “Well then, I’m leaving, and I advise you two to leave as well.”

He waited a moment, watching what they were going to do. The big man turned on his cloaking field and his footsteps could be heard leaving the trashed club. The Zabrak remained a while longer.

“We’re not finished,” he pointed at Shazzar. “Nobody robs Hel Katarn of a job. The Sith Lord is mine, and you’d better just drop the job.” He then turned around and left as well. Shazzar was finally alone.

Actually, not alone. “It’s alright, Alen, you can come out now.”

The frightened Zeltron emerged from behind an overturn table. He stared aghast at the carnage that had taken place in his establishment.

“I’m ruined!” he moaned. “Nobody will come back and bet on the races after this!”

“It’s not so bad,” Shazzar said. “Just find a different way to rip people off. You’re clever, you’ll be back on your feet in no time. And that Crage is never going to bother you again, I promise you.”

“How can I repay you?” Alen asked.

“Do you have anything else I can go on to find Toxeti?”

Alen thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, I mean, Crage was the only person I’d ever heard the name from. But he probably had help – he couldn’t be everywhere at once. I could ask around for you.”

“No,” Shazzar shook his head. “I can’t be having too many questions asked, otherwise Toxeti will go deeper into hiding.

“Well then, how else can I help you?” Alen asked.

“For starters, could you forgive me for the mess?”

“Of course, of course! It wasn’t you who started the fight anyway!”

Shazzar smiled. “Thanks, my friend. An understanding friend is more valuable than credits to me. If you wanted to come along…”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Alen replied. “I’m not the violent type. I’m a lover, not a fighter. You know what I mean?”

“Yes,” Shazzar sighed. “Well, keep an ear out, and if you do come across any helpful information, be sure to let me know.”

Shazzar shook his friend’s hand and left. He put on his comlink headset and called his employer.

“Don’t tell me you’ve found him already,” Viruul’s voice said.

“Would you mind informing me about the hunters you’ve contracted? You’ve got an arrogant Zabrak named Hel Katarn and a massive tower of a man. Anyone else?”

“That’s really none of your concern, Shazzar,” Viruul replied. “All you need to worry about is taking care of Toxeti.”

“Who else?” Shazzar’s tone was that of demand, not request.

Viruul sighed. “Please don’t try my patience, Shazzar, you’re too good of a hunter for me to throw away.”

“Fine,” Shazzar growled. “I’ll play your little game, Viruul, but I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

“Believe me, you know all that you need to,” Viruul disconnected.

Shazzar shook his head in frustration and kept walking.

It was only a few hours later, and Shazzar was prepping his ship for takeoff, when he got a call from Alen Heigren. His voice was excited and yet frightened.

“Crage is dead!” he said quickly.

“What was that?” Shazzar asked, confused.

“Corellian authorities found Crage’s body in the woods. No signs of wound or anything that might have killed him. Except his brain…”

“What about his brain?”

“Well, what was left of it was just mush. It sounds disgusting. I’m sorry, I guess your lead is gone.”

Shazzar’s eyes widened. Not from the loss of the lead, but from what he heard about Crage’s death. He knew what caused such horrifying deaths – there was only one race in the galaxy. Anzati.

“Viruul, what have you gotten me into?” he muttered to himself.

Katarn was grumbling his whole walk back to his ship. He was furious, and he had forgotten why exactly. Ah, now he remembered. It was because that stupid man in the turban had allowed Crage to escape and then had walked away from a fight he knew he would have lost. Such cowardice.

He would catch up to that man, and he would make him pay for it. But for now, he had to go and find some other way to find Toxeti.

The thought crossed his mind. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have killed Xum…

How was he going to find the elusive Sith now? Xum didn’t have any hyperspace lanes that he could find the fleet, and Heigren could only lead him to Crage. What source could he use? He had many, but none that he could think of that would help him on this sort of job.

Katarn decided to find himself a nice nightclub to relax and think better. He found one, though it was difficult. All the kinds that suited him were illegal on Corellia. Such stingy rules and morality, he thought about the world. Not like Nar Shaddaa, where anyone could do anything they could possibly want to.

In the “illegal” club, Katarn found his relaxation in flirting with a pair of young ladies. It was going well, then a brusque and forward Rattataki woman thrust herself upon him and started dragging him – albeit willingly – to the back door for a bit of privacy. Now things were going really well.

That is, until she stuck a hard, metal cylinder in his gut. A lightsaber.

“You and your pals are stirring up trouble,” she breathed into his ear.

“Come on, baby, let’s not ruin a great evening…” Katarn kept his cool.

“Do you have any idea who you are dealing with? Who you just killed?”

“Killed? Crage is dead? Well then, would you mind taking me to Toxeti then?” Katarn said smugly.

“I guess I’m going to have to kill you in order for you to understand…” she snarled.

Katarn suddenly grabbed hold of her arms with one hand, twirled her around, and held his arm around her throat with his other hand. “No baby, it’s you who needs to understand. You’re going to take me to Toxeti…”

“Never!” she hissed.

“Yes you are,” he started to squeeze tighter for emphasis.

Suddenly both of them were heaved up into the air, gripped hard by their throats as though hung by steel cable. A menacing and familiar voice echoed in the dark alley.

“Correction,” the Phantom said, “she’ll be taking us to Toxeti.” A blue flash lighted up Katarn’s view, and then there was blackness.

Katarn awoke on the cold floor of a ship. Lying next to him was the Rattataki, unconscious. He smiled. Maybe now he could continue where things should have gone…

But he found that he was bound by electric cuffs. When he tried to get free, a horribly painful shock ravaged his body. He cried out in pain. The Sith girl woke up, and she too tried to struggle against her bonds – receiving the same punishment.

“You’ll be more comfortable if you stop that,” came their captor’s voice.

“What is this?” Katarn asked incredulously. “Why don’t we work together, big guy? We can split the money…”

“You’re only saying that because I have the upper hand,” the Phantom replied. “But I’ve kept you alive because I may want your help. And if you survive, I’ll share the bounty.”

The Sith said, “You’re both fools! You’ll both die at my master’s hand!”

“Oh shut up, schutta,” Katarn nudged her harshly.

“I’ll kill you myself!” she shrieked.

The Phantom pressed a button on his wrist and both of his prisoners screamed in agony from electrocution. “Until you tell me where to find Toxeti, young lady, you’ll both be getting used to that sensation.”

Katarn’s eyes widened. “What?! Why would you do that? Why am I getting punished too?” he wasn’t even ashamed his voice was whining.

“You’d better help her be cooperative, then,” the Phantom answered. “A little incentive, if you will.”

“Blast it, woman! Tell us where to find Toxeti!” Katarn struck at her again.

“Never!” she screamed and struck him back.

“Then this is going to be a fun but tedious evening,” the Phantom shrugged. “For me, anyway.”

He continued to press the button and listen to their desperate screams throughout the night.

Shazzar was surfing the holonet, searching for anything that might lead him to some sort of clue in finding the mysterious Toxeti. After exhausting the places most people would look – such as newscasts and communication sites – he started turning to the random frequencies that made up the static white noise of the interconnected galaxy.

It was tedious, but Shazzar didn’t have anything better to do…that is, in his current situation. He couldn’t abandon the job and return to Vaala. Not yet, not while Viruul had him on a contract.

Continually changing frequencies, he suddenly happened on something that sounded peculiar. It was a series of patterns in the useless static. Something so uniform and constant, yet so subtle and quaint, that Shazzar knew it had to be a message encoded in the noise.

He tried to triangulate where the source was originating, or where it was directed. The signal was strong, and it appeared it was crossing a vast expanse of space. But he came close enough to pinpointing one of the specific locations, and once he knew it, he punched in the coordinates into the navicomputer. It was a place where he had already been recently, and the irony was insulting to him.

Dromund Kaas.

Shazzar worked on hacking into the signal, to find out what sort of message was being sent. It was too hidden and remote to be anything official of the Empire’s, but it wasn’t beyond any of the Sith or Imperial Intelligence to use such underhanded signals of communication. It was, however, the only thing he had to go on, and he was going to follow it until he found what he was looking for or he was proved wrong in his assumptions.

“Back to the Imperial capital,” he muttered to himself he was about to engage. It wasn’t going to be easy finding anyone on Dromund Kaas – since the whole blasted planet was swarming with Sith and soldiers. To only find one miscreant among so many…

All of a sudden, his attempt at working his way into the encryption succeeded, though he had absolutely no idea what exactly he did to accomplish that. He heard two distinct voices, and their conversation drew his full attention at the first name mentioned.

“Toxeti, is displeased with recent events. He has lost contact with two operatives now, both on the planet Corellia.” The voice was gruff and formal, sounded like an officer.

“Do you suppose the Republic could be looking into things?” another voice asked.

The first replied, “The Republic is incapable of even suspecting any of our activities. No, it must be covert Imperial Agents at work.”

“Not Agents, Admiral. Bounty hunters, hired by the Dark Council.”

“Indeed?” the first voice said. “Why would they turn to such ragged scum? They have a vast network of resources to draw upon that are far more effective. I personally would have turned to the military before hiring mercenaries.”

“That is your preference, Admiral. I have heard that Lord Viruul is hoping that underworld specialists would be able to work better at locating our master.”

“Then he is a fool.”

“Oh, quite surely,” the second voice agreed. “But things are getting dangerous in the Empire. Viruul has started having many rounded up and questioned. His inquisition is interrogating and killing Sith, agent, officer, and citizen indiscriminately.”

“Such barbaric measures will only drive us further underground, and will strengthen our resolve,” the “Admiral” stated boldly.

“True, but the longer it takes to prepare, the longer Viruul’s slaughter will continue against the people of the Empire. He must be stopped.”

“We could attack now, take the capital by surprise.”

“An attack on Dromund Kaas? Where the Emperor and the Dark Council reside behind legions of loyalist soldiers? Admiral Grimm, are you such a fool?”

“Don’t take that tone with me! I am at least fighting the Council, while you cower in their citadel, acting like an obedient dog. We will marshal our fleet, and we will recruit allies on Eriadu. You continue leaking your useless information.”

The transmission was abruptly ended and Shazzar halted his hyperspace jump. He cancelled the current location and put in the new coordinates. Eriadu, it appeared was his location. He was, however, going to be sure to send a message to Viruul regarding the latest development. Perhaps Viruul knew this Admiral Grimm?

The Council’s session had already started, and Viruul was late. He flew through the empty hallways like the specter he so usually appeared to be. His face was adorned with a conservative mask that was shaped like a skull. It nearly glowed a ghostly white amid the blackness of his cloak and hood.

He reached the Council chamber and walked in, uncaring of how the attention suddenly turned to him.

“I apologize for my tardiness, gentlemen,” he said casually, taking his seat. “I had business to wrap up, and I tried to hurry as fast as possible.”

“Interrogating another suspected traitor?” one of the Council asked. A few chuckles followed from some of the others.

“His crimes were discovered and he was duly punished for his disloyalty to the Empire. He even yielded names of some of his constituents before he died. I have much work to attend to – after this meeting, of course.”

“We were actually just talking about you and your…business,” another of the Council stated. “We’re more than a little concerned at this zeal of yours in rooting out possible enemies of the Empire. You aren’t exactly using subtle procedure.”

“I have no intention of convicting our enemies privately,” Viruul replied. “Treason must be dealt with publicly, so as to send a message to other malcontents.”

“Or it could embolden them,” the first Council member suggested. “The Council is debating whether or not to allow your inquisition to continue. Your methods are stirring quite a lot of fear in the Empire’s loyal citizens.”

“You above all should understand that fear is what keeps the citizens in line,” Viruul countered harshly. “We are the highest archons of the Empire, and our word is law. Those with the audacity to defy us must be punished with the most effective means.”

“But your actions may incite riots and further rebellions,” the second Sith Lord said accusingly. “You need to understand, Viruul, that with every decision comes a consequence. And your inquisition will likely have drastic repercussions. Also, do not forget that you are a member of this Council, not the Emperor himself.”

Viruul rose, furious. “Do not suppose to lecture me!” He glared at the Council members that watched him. Many of them he detested, partly because of their condescending attitudes and illusions of wisdom, and partly also for the fact that many of them were dressed like clowns and wizards. Only a few actually had an intimidating dress and appearance, and Viruul was glad to say that he was one of them.

“Do not think to lecture me!” he repeated his outburst, this time with more severity. “I am on this Council just as you! And I have results to justify my actions. Can you all say the same?” He scanned the chamber and the Lords on their seats. No one spoke or moved, and the silence after Viruul’s rage was deafening.

Viruul then continued. “Lords of the Council, how long shall we suffer dissidents and upstarts to work behind our backs and undermine our authority? How many men like Malgus must rise up and challenge us before we take action for ourselves and put them back into their place? By the Emperor, we are the Dark Council!”

“Is Malgus the man you intend to destroy?” asked a different Council member. “You should be aware that he is not one we can move against, even if we were fed up with his disregard for regulation. He is too valuable and powerful.”

“I am not speaking of Malgus,” Viruul hissed. Then he added, “For the moment… I want things to go back to the way they’re supposed to be. I want the Empire to be unchallenged.”

“Then continue your inquisition,” said one of the silent voices of the Council. His statement brought no more opposition from the rest of the Sith Lords.

“I will, Jadus,” Viruul nodded at the speaker. And with that he left the chamber and the Council’s session was adjourned.

Later, Viruul answered the call from Shazzar.

“What is it now?” he sighed.

“I’ve got a new trail to follow on this hunt,” the bounty hunter’s voice replied.

“Really?” Viruul sat in a chair. “Tell me.”

Shazzar said, “I decrypted a covert transmission from two of Toxeti’s servants. One is a leak on Dromund Kaas.”

“Who?” Viruul asked, anger in his voice at the thought of a traitor nearby.

“I don’t know, but the other is a man named Admiral Grimm.”

“Yusef Grimm?” Viruul clarified. “Are you certain? That’s a bold accusation, almost as bold as demanding Kilran’s death.”

“I’m sure of it,” Shazzar answered. “I take it you know him?”

“Yes, he’s one of the Imperial Navy’s most admired commanders. He has been gone on assignment for several months.”

Shazzar chuckled. “Nope, he’s been working for your friend. He’s meeting some mysterious allies on Eriadu, and I’m headed there now.”

“Well done, Shazzar, do be sure to keep me updated.”

The call was disconnected. Viruul sat back and yawned. One step closer, he thought to himself. One step closer to finishing this.

Shazzar hadn’t meant to cut off the connection so suddenly. But he had no choice when he heard a footstep behind him. He whirled around in the pilot’s chair and had a pistol out and ready to fire. It was kicked out of his hand.

The intruder was slender, had long hair hanging down his head, and was covered in a blue-green bodysuit.

Rising from the seat to fight off the attacker, Shazzar made a punch to the face and scored. But the man was quick to recover and struck him back. Shazzar stumbled against the chair. He caught himself and sent a kick upwards to the intruder’s stomach.

The man fell backwards, landing on his rear. He scrambled toward the blaster lying a little ways from him, but Shazzar pounced on him to hold him down. However, the man’s suit was so incredibly smooth that he slipped out of Shazzar’s grip and had the blaster.

Shazzar was quick to roll away from his location, but the man didn’t fire. He pulled out his other blaster and pointed it at his enemy. The intruder threw the pistol at Shazzar’s face and stood, drawing a cold, sharp, expensively crafted vibrosword. He had two held on his back.

For a brief moment, Shazzar felt at the man’s mercy. Yet with his own swiftness, he drew his own blade and swung to get the sword out of his face. He then got up himself and prepared for melee combat.

And fight they did. The man took the offensive, but Shazzar parried each strike he made. It was a long and exhausting dance with blades. Finally, Shazzar gained the momentum and began to back his attacker into a corner. His curved blade sung as it twirled through the air and glanced off the man’s blade.

However, his offensive was soon halted, as the man drew his second blade and caught Shazzar’s dagger between the two. He then yanked all three weapons out of their hands and head butted Shazzar, discombobulating him for long enough for Shazzar to lose his footing and fell to the ground.

The intruder then landed on top of him, getting his face very close to Shazzar’s. From his cheeks, two proboscises emerged and slithered through the air towards Shazzar’s revealed face.

Shazzar kicked into the man’s glossy abdomen to push him away just far enough to free his right hand. He then reached up and grabbed the Anzati’s brain straws and constricted his fist until his attacker screamed in pain.

“Keep your feelers out of my nose,” Shazzar snarled. “I know what you are, and your hypnosis will not work on me. My will is too strong.”

The Anzati cried out again, kneeling at the mercy of his would-be meal. At length he gathered the words to speak. “There’s no need…to be uncivil…”

“Civil?” Shazzar raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the vampire who snuck aboard a dangerous man’s ship and tried to feed on him. I know this hurts…” he yanked hard on the Anzati’s proboscis’. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“I am Krys Falkko. Like you, I’ve been hired by Lord Viruul.”

“Viruul hired an Anzati? Why? And just what did you hope to gain by attempting to attack me?”

Falkko groaned in pain. “You have a new lead to Toxeti, and you’re a threat to the job.”

“The bounty is mine,” Shazzar snarled. “And you’re going out the airlock.”

“Wait!” Falkko’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to kill me. We can help each other. Together we can take Toxeti down.”

“I don’t need help,” Shazzar said. “Nor would I trust a predator like you. The moment my back was turned, you’d have your tendrils up my nose again. No, you’re a risk I wouldn’t take even if I did need assistance.” Shazzar began to make a step in the airlock’s general direction.

“How can I deter you from opting to kill me?” Falkko pleaded. “I swear I will not harm you…”

“Your word is meaningless!” Shazzar replied. Then he stopped for a moment. He began to consider if this man might actually be more valuable alive. “What help could you offer me?” he asked, rather rhetorically.

“When I fed on Toxeti’s servant, Crage, I learned some of his memories through his connection through the Force. I know secrets that will be of great assistance to the both of us.”

“You’re Force-sensitive? Then that makes you even more of a threat.”

“I swear I will not harm you if we work together!” Falkko exclaimed.

Shazzar growled. He pulled out of his pack a pair of restraints. He clasped them on the Anzati with his left hand, while still holding him with his right. Then he let go of the proboscises – which receded back into their pouches – and Shazzar dragged him slowly to the cockpit, keeping a blaster trained on him.

“I’m not a monster,” Shazzar said softly. “I’m not a serial killer like you. We’ll work together, so long as you remain true to your word. But I’m watching you carefully, and by the bones of my father, if you so much as hint at another attempt against me, I will space you without a second thought.”

“You are rational and clever,” Falkko bowed his head in respect. “I am true to my word – I shall not harm you. We shall be unstoppable against Toxeti and his servants.”

Shazzar nodded suspiciously. For the rest of the flight, he never took his eyes off his new companion. He didn’t trust him, and he knew that the man was willing to take any opportunity that presented itself. But while it was against his better judgment, Shazzar decided that two bounty hunters would have better success than just one.

He only hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision of mercy.

Katarn was still shaking throughout his body, his muscles continued to spasm after the long exposure to electric currents running through them. He tried to keep still, but he trembled as though he were sitting in a freezer. Which wasn’t all that far from the truth, considering that the heat levels in the Phantom’s ship were borderline icing level.

But thankfully, his captor had released him from the cuffs. The girl had talked, and now he was working with the big man. Katarn had considered killing the Phantom once he was released, but he soon realized that his body was in no condition to fight such a massive opponent. No, he was going to have to take on his new partner.

He glared down at the Sith girl. She was unconscious; having received even more punishment after Katarn had been released. She lay there like a defeated vampire, white skinned and near lifeless. Katarn was hard pressed to detect whether she was still breathing.

She had spoke of the planet Eriadu, which Katarn found a suspicious place to find Toxeti. Surely he wouldn’t be that close to highly concentrated civilization? Well, maybe he was that stupid. Katarn didn’t know.

All he cared about at the moment was that he was shaking, sore, and freezing in this ice hole. The sound of loud footsteps made him perk up and begin to thaw his tongue to speak.

“Do you think that you could turn up the heat?” he asked as the Phantom entered the room. “It must be well-below freezing.”

“I like the cold,” the Phantom replied. “What? Can you not handle it?”

Katarn breathed into his quivering hands. “I prefer to be comfortable if I can help it. I charge a lot of money for my jobs because it pays for my comfort.”

“A bounty hunter isn’t supposed to get comfortable,” Katarn’s new associate said. “I should have known you weren’t tough enough to work this kind of assignment.”

“Really! I have caught more than thirty bounties, high-threat level I might add.”

“How many have you killed?”

Katarn hesitated. “Usually they pay more for alive than dead.”

“I’ve caught over eighty bounties, little man, and I’ve killed just about all of them. You obviously don’t have the taste for blood or a real challenge.”

“To each his own,” Katarn shivered. “Are we nearing Eriadu?”

“We should be there in half an hour. You might want to wake her up and get her ready to lead us to the target.”

“You don’t really think she’ll be cooperative, do you?” Katarn asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” the Phantom headed towards the cockpit. “She’ll try to lead you into a trap, and I’ll kill them. I thought you knew that.”

Katarn felt another spasm ripple through his body. One caused by electricity, cold, and nervousness of what the Phantom had intended.

There was nothing out of the ordinary in orbit around Eriadu. Just the typical kinds of traffic – and a high security space station.

The Rattataki directed them to dock in a specific hangar on the station. She informed her captors that the station was run by Admiral Grimm, one of Toxeti’s leading officers. When the ship was hailed and commanded to give the docking code, she did so – at the behest of Katarn’s blaster shoved into her side.

Upon landing, Katarn kept the Sith in front of her as they headed towards the loading ramp, with the Phantom behind him. The ramp lowered and they began descending. Then Katarn noticed a dozen troopers waiting with guns aimed directly at him.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he sighed. A captain in a excellently trimmed uniform stepped forward.

“Lay down your weapon, miscreant,” the captain commanded.

“Miscreant? That’s not a nice thing to call a giant…” Katarn turned and noticed that the Phantom was nowhere to be seen. And none of the soldiers seemed to have any indication that there was anyone else other than himself and the girl.

“I am Captain Jayden, and you will submit and be taken into custody, bounty hunter. Release the woman at once!” His tone was terser with that final command.

Katarn figured he had no other alternative other than be gunned down, so he did as he was told and surrendered. He figured the girl had sent a warning to the docks instead of a clearance code. How could he have been so stupid?

The Sith was released from her restraints and she wasted no time in kissing the captain affectionately. Her white skin and dark clothes brightly contrasted his dull uniform and peachy skin tone. “It’s good to see you safe, Miraj,” the captain whispered to her.

“I guess you’ve already got a fella,” Katarn sighed, his hands behind his head. A Sith trooper moved forward to place him under arrest, when suddenly he rose unnaturally into the air, gasping in shock and pain. Blood oozed from two holes in his chest. He dropped quickly and another soldier fell dead with massive gashes running diagonally up his body.

“It’s the other one!” the Rattataki shouted, grabbing her lightsaber and ordering the troopers to engage the unseen assailant.

Katarn grinned, grabbing his gun and proceeding to shoot at the guards around him. The troopers were swiftly dispatched, and the captain and the Sith fled the hangar, locking it down as they exited. An alarm sounded, echoing off the walls with its shrill screams.

“Got a fusion cutter?” the Phantom asked as he emerged from his cloak.

“Of course, any decent bounty hunter has…”

The Phantom cut him off by shouting, “Then get that door open!”

“Couldn’t we use explosives?”

“Quit arguing and get it done! We don’t want to draw more attention then we have too!”

Katarn complied and hurried in the task of cutting through the doors. The shadow of his partner looming over him made his hands tremble occasionally. But soon he made it through and they slipped into the sterile halls. Guards were rushing their way, firing as they approached.

The Phantom and Katarn returned fire, and their aim was far better. They killed the guards and continued to navigate their way through the halls, killing any other resistance they met.

“Don’t have the stomach for killing, do I?” Katarn sneered at his associate after shooting another guard.

“Quit yapping and keep shooting,” the Phantom replied. “If your body count comes near to mine, then you’ll earn some respect.”

Katarn thought that was fine, and so continued to work with his new partner advance through the station.

Captain Jayden and the Sith arrived in a large conference chamber, where several persons were in the midst of a meeting. Admiral Yusef Grimm – with his short white hair, trim uniform, and glittering medals and ribbons – rose when the two interrupted.

“What’s this alarm sounding in Hangar Six?” he asked bluntly. “Don’t you see we’re in an important meeting?”

“Bounty hunters, sir,” the captain replied.

“Well, captain, why don’t you and Miraj see to them? I have more important business here.” He indicated the major figures with him. There was a Mandalorian commander, covered in his bright, massive gold armor; a cowering and fretful Neimoidian noble; and an aggressive, hissing Trandoshan mercenary. All three of them appeared annoyed at the disturbance.

“Yes sir,” the captain saluted. “I just wanted to inform you.”

The Admiral waved them away in a rude dismissal.

The pair left the chamber and closed the door behind them. Once out of sight of the Admiral and his visitors, they exchanged another passionate kiss.

“I’ll check the security cameras to locate the intruders,” Jayden said. “You lead security to engage them. I’ll inform you of their movements on the com.” With that, he headed off, and she went the opposite direction.

She ordered every trooper she encountered to follow her, and soon the large posse she had formed heeded Jayden’s directions and located the pair of bounty hunters holed up in a corridor. A corridor crowded with bodies of soldiers they had killed. They were using them as cover and shields when they tried to move forward.

Miraj was sickened by such disrespect for the dead and ordered the troops to fire in volleys, sending a wall of blaster fire down the hall. Katarn barely got himself completely concealed before the air around him was singed and reeked of ozone.

Then Katarn and the Phantom emerged from their wall and fired back. They had to fire quickly, so their aim was poor. Another web of red light shot at them again. A pattern developed, and for several minutes, it didn’t look like it was going to change any time soon.

Katarn pulled out a thermal detonator from his pack. “This ought to do the trick,” he muttered to himself. As soon as the volley passed him again, he emerged to lob the grenade at the enemy.

“What are you doing?” the Phantom shouted.

Miraj saw it coming, and with the Force, she sent it right back at its owner. Katarn’s face turned pale and he swore.

“You idiot!” the Phantom tried to leap as far as he could, but it didn’t help.

The detonator exploded right in front of the wall of corpses and the whole area lighted up in a blinding explosion. The walls and ceiling of the corridor collapsed, and when the smoke cleared, all Miraj saw was a giant pile of debris. No movement, no sound…No more bounty hunters.

“Good work,” Jayden’s voice said on the comlink.

“Shall we go report to the Admiral that the intruders have been dealt with?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“No need to disturb him again,” Jayden replied. “I’ll be in my chambers…”

She smiled and headed there herself, ordering the troops to take care of the mess and make sure that the bounty hunters were dead.

The turbolifts were locked down still from the alarm, so Miraj had to wait nearly an hour in irritation for them to come back into service. The attackers had caused a great deal of confusion and damage in their romp through the station.

In the lift, she wiped off the sweat and dust from her skin and clothes, settling herself for her anticipated evening. She had been gone far too long from him, and her passions had been held at bay for far too long.

Finally, she entered his room. It was completely dark, and she didn’t bother to turn on the light.

“Don’t tell me you’re sleeping,” she smirked.

“No, I’m here on the bed.” Jayden’s voice sounded strange, but Miraj figured it was merely the contrast in sound from the firefight in the corridor.

She slipped in next to her lover, surprised at the curious texture of his undergarments. They were lusciously smooth, like glass, but she wanted to feel his skin.

His hand began stroking her bald white head softly. She was growing impatient at the foreplay. “What’s with the wait?” she whispered. “Why don’t you slip off that…?”

She was cut off when the light unexpectedly switched on, blinding her for a brief moment. In the now opened door was a man in green and brown armor with his head wrapped in a turban. Miraj, startled and alarmed, sat up quickly, putting herself in a protective stance in front of Jayden.

It was then that she saw Jayden’s body in the corner of the bedroom. She turned around to see who had dared to pretend to be him…

And was immediately paralyzed and seized with fear when she discovered the Anzati grinning sadistically at her.

The last thing she heard before the life was sucked out of her was the man in the door say, “You’ve got a real disgusting sense of humor, Falkko. Try another stunt like this, snot vampire, and you’ll have eaten your last.”

Admiral Grimm apologized to his guests at the disturbance. They were not quick to forgive, but they were eager to get back to business.

“As I was saying,” Grimm continued from where he left off. “Toxeti’s fleet is comprised of three fully armed Star Destroyers and a dozen escort frigates and cruisers.”

“That’s not much of a threatening fleet,” the Mandalorian scoffed. “It probably couldn’t maintain any sort of decent engagement, or even a blockade.”

“Under normal circumstances, you are correct, Krayno,” the Admiral nodded. “But ours is not a normal fleet.”

“Would you care to enlighten us or drag out the drama?” the Neimoidian asked.

“Not at all, in fact, my Star Destroyer and escort are right outside that window if you’d like to take a look.”

“There’s nothing there,” Krayno said, regarding the viewport.

“All I sssee isss ssspace,” the Trandoshan concurred.

“That is where you are wrong, gentlemen,” Grimm smiled amused. He then pressed a button on his comlink and sent an encoded signal. A few moments later, a massive Star Destroyer and three frigates appeared. The Admiral’s guests were awed.

“A cloaked fleet?” the Neimoidian couldn’t believe his eyes. “I had no idea!”

The chamber’s holoprojector emitted an image of a pale man with dark eyes, garbed in lavish clothes and a large cloak. The blue tint of the hologram concealed the colors. Everyone was surprised at his sudden arrival.

“As you can see, my friends, we have the advantage against the Empire and the Dark Council with this simple feature,” the image said casually.

“Lord Toxeti,” Grimm bowed. “Your timing is flawless.”

“I make a habit of entering important conversations at the proper moment,’ the Sith smiled. “Well, gentlemen, there’s no need to drag this out with simple diplomacy and formality. With your support, the Empire will collapse and we all shall take our place as leaders on the galactic stage.”

Krayno nodded. “My warriors and I shall fight for you, Toxeti, for we know of your honor and prowess in battle. Despite these…cowardly techniques with your ships, a victory is still a victory.”

The others were quick to concur, and with that, they signed a treaty that the Admiral gave to them, pledging their allegiance to Toxeti and his cause. Grimm then led them to a door that would take them to them to their ships, and asked that they dock on Grimm’s Star Destroyer. When they asked why, Grimm replied, “So that you may meet Toxeti in person, and for protection should the station be compromised.

With that, the party left the conference room. Just a moment later, a door opened and in walked a battered and dusty Phantom, dragging a moaning Katarn behind him.

“Those are Toxeti’s ships,” the Phantom stated.

“Where did they come from?” Katarn asked, grimacing from the pain of a possibly broken rib.

“Does it matter? We need to get on one of those ships,” the Phantom shook his baggage.

Katarn cried out. “Why are you just dragging me around? Shouldn’t you just leave me to die?”

“Normally I would, but I’m not willing to throw away an asset just yet.”

“I thought I was your partner, not an asset.”

A door on the other side of the room opened. Shazzar and Falkko entered.

“Well, isn’t this ironic?” Katarn tried to make a joke, but it hurt to laugh. “If I weren’t hurting, I’d wring your neck, buddy!”

Shazzar shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know by what sick humored spirits, fate, or that flaming Force brought us together, but it looks like we’re all going to have to work together.”

“And why would we do that?” Katarn asked.

“Because the ships are leaving soon,” the Phantom answered. He understood what Shazzar meant, and he agreed. They would need to work together…for now.

“My ship has a bacta tank,” Shazzar said, regarding Katarn’s damaged state. “We’ll attach to the Star Destroyer’s hull and hitch a ride straight to Toxeti.”

There was a moment of distrustful glances between the four of them. But they all realized that they would be losing another lead if they allowed the ships to leave. Reluctantly, they followed Shazzar to his ship.

Shazzar was fuming inside. He really didn’t want to have to work with his competition, but it’s what the job called for. Viruul’s assignment was getting more ridiculous with every advance.

He would simply charge more for the job when it was completed.

With a ship unnoticeably clasped firmly on the Star Destroyer’s exterior, the small portion of Toxeti’s fleet left Eriadu’s orbit.

Shazzar made sure there was a place for his two new guests – one in the cargo hold, the other floating in a bacta tank. He then found his Anzati “friend” and punched him three times, once to the face, then to the gut, and then to the face again. Falkko fell to the ground, sliding a little on the floor panels.

“You want to explain to me what that was back there?” Shazzar asked. “The moment we get on the station, you slip off to do your own little thing, leaving me to deal with the guards. Then I find you in someone’s chambers, having murdered two people for no other reason than to satisfy your appetite! How exactly did you plan on helping me?”

Falkko did not answer. He simply licked his lips with a smirk and wiped the blood off his face from Shazzar’s blow.

“Alright, that’s it,” Shazzar growled. He grabbed the Anzati by the hair and dragged him through the hall to the airlock. Falkko tried to claw him off, but the hard scales of his gloves protected his hand.

Throwing him in the airlock, Shazzar sealed the door and spoke through the window. “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what secrets you know before I space you.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a monster or a killer,” Falkko answered.

“Seven seconds.”

Falkko’s eyes widened when he suddenly became aware just how ready Shazzar was to kill him. He had before this time assumed Shazzar was simply a bluffer and not truly devoted. The new look in Shazzar’s eye showed his true willingness to kill.

“Alright,” the Anzati exhaled heavily. “Toxeti’s servants are highly passionate. He devotes a great deal of effort to fire up their emotions far beyond what the Sith would consider practical. He promotes relationships and trust, and his followers are fully devout to him.”

“And how does that help us at all?” Shazzar asked without inflection.

“It means we can use their instability to our advantage,” Falkko replied. “When I killed the Rattataki back on the station, and her lover, I was testing just how far their attachments and emotions went. They’re not like the other Sith – so we can’t fight them the same way.”

“Curious conclusions from someone who devotes his time and energy in hunting other sentients. How would you know about Sith and personal passions?”

“I know plenty about the Sith, probably more than you. You don’t feel people like I do because you’re not Force-sensitive. Those Sith I devoured have yielded their secrets to me. I have had a glimpse of Toxeti’s methods and powers. He is far more than you alone could manage.”

“You could easily be lying to me,” Shazzar scowled. “How do I know you really know about a person’s passions? You hunt people, you don’t socialize with them. From your perspective, all of us are just dinner. Do you even know how a person feels?”

Falkko peered through the window at the man who held his life in his hands. “I know that you hunt people too, but not for sustenance. You hunt because it’s a job.”

“So does every bounty hunter.”

“But you hide something beneath your comfort with blood and your sternness. You conceal a deep passion behind your rage, just like you conceal that painted face behind cloth.” He pointed to Shazzar’s revealed skin. “You have a wife,” Falkko stated, closing his eyes for clarity. “You love her more intensely than you love yourself. And you harbor a deep fear that she might be harmed. You’re even willing to give up your life for this Togruta named Vaala.”

Shazzar was about ready to punch the button and space this man who dared to peer into his mind. He rose up every mental barrier technique he knew of and tried to shut out the intrusion. It was like water flowing through a crevice, trying to spread into every little opening. At last he completely dammed the flow and Falkko’s probe withdrew.

“Convinced?” Falkko asked, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“And how do I know you won’t try to kill me? You’re not exactly trustworthy.”

“I’m not…but you don’t have any other option. None of us do. We’re going to have to work together, like you said, if any one of us will survive this job.”

Shazzar thought for a moment. His finger came mere nanometers from the button to start the depressurization sequence. But he sighed, and released the door. He watched the huge sigh of relief from the Anzati, who obviously was just as afraid to die as anyone else. That was at least one “human” characteristic that Shazzar could rely on.

“Go to a room, and stay there,” he said bluntly. “I so much as see you wandering the halls or hear one stomach growl out of you, and you’re slag.”

Falkko complied. When he was gone, Shazzar sighed with great frustration and tension. He didn’t like any of this at all. If these bounty hunters got the notion that he was what they considered “soft”, they might very well try to remove him from this little game. And that he could not allow.

Hurrying to the cockpit, he made sure all power was down, save for the bare minimum. That would lower their chances of being detected. They were already in hyperspace. Then he locked down all the doors throughout the ship.

“What the…?” he heard Katarn’s voice on the intercom. He had apparently finished his bacta bath. “What’s with the door?”

Shazzar accessed the comm. system and said, “I’ve taken the liberty of locking down the ship. Nobody leaves their current locations – so as to assure our mutual survival from each other. If anybody tries to get out, I’ll kill him. And if you do anything drastic, well then, the folks we’re hitchhiking with will be sure to detect us and we’ll all be killed.”

“You can’t do this!” Katarn shouted indignant.

“On the contrary,” Shazzar answered. “It’s my ship after all. Just sit tight and put your clothes on.”

He then leaned back in his seat and thought a while. He realized they had no idea what they would find when they arrived. There could be a massive fleet, or nothing at all. And surely they would find Toxeti – whom he figured must be a tough krayt dragon to take down, since they were assigned to get rid of him by a member of the Dark Council. And they were supposed to be able to deal with any threat against them. If they couldn’t handle Toxeti…?

Shazzar started to doze, even with four dangerous men on his ship. He lost track of time when the dropout from hyperspace suddenly awoke him. What he saw caused him to momentarily forget his discipline and gape.

Viruul sat amid the Dark Council, listening to a report from Darth Mobius – a Wiphid and supposedly one of the more successful Sith Lords. Next to him was his apprentice, a female Chagrian named Zilja. Viruul frowned at the pair standing in the center of the audience chamber, surrounded by the silent Council.

He was not pleased with what he heard. None of them were. The master and pupil had been on a covert assignment to assassinate a prominent Jedi Watchman in the Mid Rim. Mobius spoke of how they killed three squadrons of Republic soldiers and fought the Jedi in single combat. However, they had been defeated, and were forced to flee. Mobius was trying to downplay the failure by pointing out the successes they did achieve, like obtaining Republic fleet movements in the sector.

“Yet the Republic is aware of the stolen information?” one of the Council supposed.

“Well…” the Wiphid hesitated. “Yes, it wasn’t a secure extraction.”

“Then the information is useless,” another Council member said. “The Republic will change their movements and rearrange their garrisons.”

“Not necessarily,” Mobius countered.

Viruul spoke. “Do you presume to know better than the Council?”

The Wiphid stuttered. “No, of course not, my lord…”

“Then what did you mean to say?” the Sith who spoke prior asked.

“I…merely proposed that their changes might not be possible…considering how far stretched the Republic is.”

“That is a foolish assumption,” Viruul sneered. “We of the Council understand the workings of the galaxy, Mobius. Do not try to place yourself on the same level.”

“He doesn’t!” the girl blurted. Her master glared at her to be silent.

“Do you also train your students to interrupt?” Viruul asked.

“My pupil’s outburst shall be dealt with, my lord,” Mobius replied. “I assure you, it shall not happen again.”

“To disrespect the Dark Council brings the penalty of death,” Viruul stated. “I am sure you are aware of that, child?”

“Yes, my lord,” the girl bowed in complete humility, ready to submit to her punishment.

“Mobius,” the second lord on the Council said. “If we command it, will you kill your student?”

“Without question,” he replied.

“Young one,” Viruul said. “Would you kill your master if we commanded it?”

Her eyes widened in shock. “Why?”

“Don’t ask why!” Viruul snapped. “Answer the question.”

“I would submit myself to the death I deserved at his hand.”

Viruul sat back, closed his eyes, and breathed deep. “You have not trained your apprentice properly, Lord Mobius,” he said softly.

“I beg your pardon?” the hairy, broken tusked Sith asked incredulous. “I have taught her to embrace the Dark Side and the ways of the Sith. Except for her lacking discipline, she is flawless!”

“Foolish mongrel!” Viruul rose in a rage. “I will tell you what a true Sith is! True Sith will fight to their last moment to preserve their power! They would not submit helplessly like an animal to a butcher!”

His accusations had angered the Sith Lord, who lost all propriety and drew his lightsaber, igniting it before all the Council. “Your inquisition has gone too far!” Mobius roared. “You see treachery where there is none and weakness behind every word. You will bring the Empire to ruin!”

Viruul’s empty hands rose, pushing back the immense black sleeves that hung from them. “Am I to consider you too a dupe of heresy? To raise a blade against your masters is to consign yourself to death.”

“Then my student and I shall take you with us!” the animal shouted, and his feeble apprentice joined him in arming herself.

“What is this madness?” one of the Council rose. He made a step forward to intervene, but Viruul sent a wave that shoved him back down into his chair.

Many of the Council were shocked at this sudden turn to violence, while others remained still and silent, probably intrigued at the development.

“You failed to fulfill your mission, and you failed to teach your apprentice properly,” Viruul thrust his hand forward and the Chagrian girl dropped her lightsaber. She was grappling with the invisible hands at her throat.

Mobius snarled like the beast he was. “The Council will have a vacant seat to fill today.” He leaped forward, roaring. His lightsaber neared Viruul’s neck. But the Dark Lord summoned his own blade to his hand and blocked the attack, a few inches away from his skin.

Viruul shoved back and slashed at his assailant. Mobius blocked it and counterattacked with a thrust to his abdomen. In response, Viruul parried and swatted the blade away. The Wiphid recovered and tried to attack again with a downward strike above the head. His attack was painfully obvious, and Viruul had no trouble intercepting the blow with his blade.

As swift as death, Viruul then swung his crimson blade down and cut Mobius’s crude lighsaber handle. It had not fineness about it at all, just a metal cylinder with a few markings along it. Such a pathetic weapon wasn’t worthy even for a Jedi to wield.

Disarmed, Mobius made for his pupil’s unused saber, but he suddenly found his feet leaving the ground. He rose high into the air, turning about to see Viruul’s hand raised as though it were lifting him – but it was the Force, for no man could lift someone as immense as him with his strength alone.

Mobius shoved a mighty wave through the Force at Viruul, who was sent sprawling back into his chair. Dropping to his feet, Mobius then gripped Zilja’s lightsaber and charged at the still recovering Sith Lord. A few steps and he was on him.

A deathly snap-hiss made him stop short. He glanced down and saw Viruul’s saber sticking in his chest. No hand held it.

Viruul rose, brushing down his unsettled cloak. He glared at his defeated attacker, now with a glint of contempt. The fool had failed to kill a Jedi. How could he possibly stand against a master of the Dark Side?

Grabbing his hilt, Viruul withdrew the saber from the Wiphid’s hide and watched the beast collapse to the ground. Slain.

A cry of anguish came from his apprentice. She rose and sent a burst of lightning at her master’s killer. Viruul was admittedly surprised at her power. Her level of mastery was much greater than he had supposed. But not strong enough.

Viruul held up his hand and stopped the lightning, creating an invisible wall before him into which the dark energy was absorbed. He could see the fear and desperation on the young one’s face. But she was also full of rage, and it strengthened her to continue her assault. Viruul felt some strain on him as he continued to protect himself.

He then focused his power and sent the energy straight back to its source. Zilja was able to utter half a scream before she was launched through the air and slammed against the wall of the chamber. When her broken body clattered to the ground, the immense silence engulfed the room. Viruul sighed and sat down in his chair again, glancing at his fellow Council members. He smiled as he looked at the result of the quaint little mishap.

“Well, shall we continue to other matters?” he asked. No one spoke for a while, but then one broke the silence.

“Never before have we had a Sith attack another within our chamber, Viruul. Would you like to explain this event?”

“I don’t think there’s anything to explain,” he answered. “Does anyone feel that they would have handled anything differently were it them instead of me?”

Nobody replied because nobody disagreed.

“One must ask though,” the speaker pursued, “has your inquisition perhaps gone too far that you accuse Sith Lords before the entire Council?”

“Now you see why I am so adamant about this issue,” Viruul stood. “If enemies of the Empire are now bold enough to attack us in the light, everything we’ve built may soon collapse. Our rule will no longer be absolute, and anarchy will destroy us. And the Jedi will simply watch our self-destruction and laugh. They won’t have to lift a single blade. Can we allow this to continue? In the Emperor’s name, I will root out our enemies from within and destroy them before all the Empire!”

With that, he waited for anyone to bring up any other matters that deserved attention. Obviously, there were none. So Viruul excused himself and ordered someone to come and clean up the pathetic mess in the Council chamber.

He felt a call for him through the Force. He made his way to his personal chambers and found Zelos and Tiburon eagerly awaiting him. There was something about their faces…

“Lord Viruul,” Tiburon greeted him with an excited, toothy grin. “We’ve received word from the bounty hunters.”

“When did you receive this message?” Viruul asked.

“Almost half an hour ago,” Zelos replied.

Wrath exuded out of Viruul like steam from a boiling pot. “And you didn’t contact me sooner?”

“You were in your session with the Council…” Tiburon said uneasily. “…We decided not to disturb you…”

“Idiots!” Viruul rose his fists into the air and lightning exploded from them like a supernova. His lackeys shrunk and cowered, raising their arms and turning their faces to protect themselves from the blast. “I am your Master! You obey my commands to the fullest! When I say that I want immediate notification of their progress I mean at once! Dim-witted mynocks!” His voice thundered as if it were the Dark Side itself.

The lightning dissipated and Viruul calmed himself.

“We are so humbly disciplined, my lord,” Tiburon shook in terror. Zelos was no better off. Both trembled before their fuming master.

“What did the message say?” Viruul hissed.

There was a pause. Tiburon hesitated to relay the information right away – fearing it may lead to an even greater outburst than before. “They’ve found Toxeti and his fleet.”

No explosion. However, the heat seemed to vanish from the room and everything became as cold as death. Viruul’s eyes appeared to have stolen the warmth, as they were glowing white and intense like a pair of stars. His voice came out quiet, but icy and just as terrible as his eruption of rage.

“Give me the coordinates and prepare yourselves. I will assemble a fleet and we shall obliterate Toxeti’s defiance from the galaxy.”

He then left like the wraith he usually presented himself to be, appearing to float above the ground as he walked.

Tiburon and Zelos silently followed.

For some reason, Shazzar thought Toxeti’s fleet would be bigger. He guessed it was because of the urgency in Viruul’s attitude towards the job. Someone who could rile a member of the Dark Council so intensely should be an intimidating enemy. His ragged and miniscule fleet suggested otherwise.

However, he reminded himself that numbers were not the proper measurement of strength. Many times true strength relied on other characteristics – such as tactics, competency, influence, skill, and ultimately, power. This might very well be the case with this rogue Sith Lord. Shazzar knew nothing about him, but he gathered from the details and experiences of the job – and Falkko’s claims – that Toxeti was not one to be trifled with.

Shazzar released the lockdown of his ship, and a sigh of relief came on the intercom.

“Finally!” Katarn’s voice groaned. “My skin was stinking of healing fluid! How about some more air circulation?”

“Quit your whining,” Shazzar said simply. “Everyone, get yourselves ready. We’ve dropped out of hyperspace, and we’ve found our target.”

A dark shadow loomed over him. The Phantom was already in the cockpit, staring out the window silently. “That is Toxeti’s fleet?” he asked.

“I guess so,” Shazzar replied. “There are two more Star Destroyers and a bunch of smaller ships. Care to guess which one Toxeti would be on?”

“There’s no way we’d be able to sneak on any of the ships,” Katarn said as he too entered the cockpit. “As soon as we detach, they’ll detect us. Did you think of a plan for after we found the Sith?”

Shazzar did not answer. Truthfully, he hadn’t really thought up a plan after this, other than figure out a way to get to the Sith. However, he was counting on the high possibility that Viruul would follow the coordinates himself and come to fight Toxeti personally.

Katarn was looking at him, expecting some sort of reply.

“I was planning on waiting until the Empire arrived,” Shazzar sighed. “We would board in the ensuing battle.”

“That’s your plan?” the Zabrak said mockingly. “Did it ever occur to you that the Empire wouldn’t come? Or that the fleet would leave before they arrived? Huh? You didn’t, did you?” He started to pace the floor and rant. “Why are we stuck here with this chump? Of all the bounty hunters to be forced to work with, we had to ride with some moron who covers his face up with rags!”

“You want to shut up yet?” the Phantom asked. “Or are you too stupid to realize that we are still on his ship?”

“I don’t care if this is his ship!” Katarn pulled out his blaster. “If anything, it’ll be mine now.” He pointed the gun at Shazzar. “We don’t need some failure at the hunting craft ruining our job and trying to steal our paycheck.”

“If you put that gun away right now,” Shazzar said coolly, “I’ll forget this whole thing happened and I won’t kill you painfully.”

“You don’t scare me, pal,” Katarn sneered.

“Then maybe I will?” Falkko asked as he entered. The cockpit had suddenly become crowded and the air became stuffy.

“Just who in space are you anyway?” Katarn started to turn the blaster on the newcomer, but Falkko was faster than his reflexes. He disarmed the Zabrak and held him against the wall, with his feelers starting to emerge. Katarn shouted in alarm and disgust, and then started to fall under the Anzati’s spell.

Shazzar’s blaster was out in a flash, but not as swiftly as the Phantom’s shoulder rifle rotated and sighted itself on Falkko.

“I warned you,” Shazzar growled at the Anzati.

Falkko turned to face him. “He thought of disposing of you and you want him to live?”

“Like you said,” Shazzar repeated, “we’re all going to have to take down Toxeti.”

Faced with his own words – and two guns at his head – Falkko backed off, leaving Katarn distraught and hyperventilating.

“You freaks…” he croaked, directing the classification to all three of his companions. He was eventually able to shake off his shock at having nearly been fed upon. “So what are we going to do? Just sit and wait?”

“That was the idea,” Shazzar holstered his blaster.

“I’m not sure that is the best course of action,” Falkko stated. “Those other ships might notice us, especially that one.” He pointed to one of the frigates that drifted close to their Star Destroyer, like a fish swimming next to a great whale. All four bounty hunters realized that it might very well detect them sitting on the larger vessel like an insect.

“Someone have any suggestions?” Shazzar asked.

“We fly in and take the ship,” the Phantom stated.

“What?” Katarn shook his head, surprised. “Which one?”

“The Star Destroyer.”

“Are you nuts? Do you know how many men crew that thing?”

“It’s not as foolish or as stupid as your decision to lob a thermal detonator at a Sith,” the Phantom countered.

“No,” Katarn said. “I’d say it’s about the same.”

“Well, if you don’t like his idea,” Shazzar began, “then suggest another option.”

Lord Toxeti appeared as a hologram before his guests on Admiral Grimm’s bridge. He nodded to each of his new allies – Krayno the Merciless, a Mandalorian general who split his clan from the newly reformed order of warriors; Cumray, a Neimoidian broker of an interstellar, multimillionaire black market dealership; and Havossk, a Trandoshan mercenary who had brought his entire party of twelve bloodthirsty brethren. All three were now under his control, completely loyal to him.

He said in a clear and sure voice, “Now the time has come to discuss our course of action. Darth Viruul, of the Dark Council, has begun a horrific inquisition that has slaughtered nearly three thousand loyal servants of the Empire in a vain attempt at rooting out our movement to overthrow the false rule of the Emperor and his puppets. The citizens of the Empire grow restless and angry at this oppression. The balance of power will soon shift in our favor.”

“How so, Lord Toxeti?” Cumray inquired.

“The people are ready for a new leader to rise, one who will free them from the iron fist of the Dark Council and lead them to a golden age. We shall be the leaders whom they will rally behind. We will strike the capital of the Empire in a bold assault of liberation.”

“Attack Dromund Kaas directly?” Krayno asked. “That is not boldness, that is folly. Not even a Mandalorian would make such a move.”

“Which is why no one will expect such an attack,” Toxeti replied.

“Boldness and surprise count for nothing if you’re dead.”

“True,” Toxeti nodded. “But with our cloaking devices on our ships, we will be able to sneak through the defenses of the planet. We will access the highly censored communication systems and broadcast my own manifesto to all the Empire, and then the people shall see their rulers for what they truly are. And then they shall join us and the Emperor’s millennium reign shall end in a single night.”

“You are very confident,” Havossk observed. “Are you sssure that the citizensss will fight for you?”

“Of course,” Toxeti smiled. “I shall allow you to see the manifesto for yourselves. It has been transmitted to the Admiral’s ship.”

“There will be time for that later,” Krayno said. “When shall my warriors join your fleet?”

“I have a special mission for them, my friend, and will not be needed to risk their lives on the attack against Dromund Kaas.”

“They are willing to die for glory,” Krayno stated, somewhat indignant.

“And I shall not deny them…” Suddenly Toxeti’s complexion changed. He cringed slightly, as though a chill had run through him. His image became fuzzed by static for a second.

“My lord?” Grimm asked. “Are you alright?”

Toxeti recovered. “I have felt a disturbance in the Force. There are enemies nearby.” He was no longer smiling, but suddenly stern and serious.

“Enemies?” Cumray shuddered in anxiety. “Where?”

“Admiral,” came the voice of one of the crew at his station. “The captain of the cruiser Bladeborn reports the detection of a ship attached to our hull. It is not one of ours.”

“The bounty hunters,” Grimm cursed. “See to them at once. Destroy them!”

“They may have sent a message to the Empire of our location,” Toxeti said. “Admiral, prepare the fleet to jump to hyperspace. This location is no longer safe.” His image cut out, and alarms blared throughout the ship.

“What if they attempt to board this ship?” Cumray asked, his voice weak with fright. His expensive clothes were shaking with his wiry frame.

“If they board,” Havossk hissed, “my brethren will dessstroy them.”

“Then get them ready,” Grimm ordered. “They’ll need to work with our guards if the hunters are able to get in. I don’t want another incident like at Eriadu. We haven’t heard from anyone alive there since we left.”

“I will call upon my warriors,” Krayno said. “My ships will be needed should the Empire attack.”

“Fine, fine,” Grimm waved his hand, not actually paying much attention to them. He then muttered to himself, “They’ll be no use when we get out of here.”

The fleet was responding to the notice of infiltrators, and the possibility of an Imperial fleet approaching. Fighters were scrambling like a disturbed swarm, and gun batteries were placed on high alert.

Shazzar was startled by the sudden fleet reaction that he almost froze. But he snapped out of it and powered up the ship. The engines roared to life.

“What’s going on?” Katarn asked, oblivious.

“They’ve spotted us,” the Phantom replied.

“How do you know?”

“Do you notice the fighters headed for us?” Shazzar shouted as the ship detached from the hull and flipped around.

The fighters were swiftly upon them, firing showers of red lasers at their tail. Shazzar did his best to avoid being hit, but they could all feel the tremors rattle them as the shields took a pounding.

“Someone get on the rear guns!” Shazzar barked as he banked the ship left, veering straight over the top of the Destroyer.

Katarn obliged and left the cockpit with finally a little breathing room. Falkko took the copilot’s seat while the Phantom remained standing firm.

“Their cannons have begun firing,” the Anzati stated. A sudden boom and shake through the ship confirmed his claim. Rising from the gray surface beneath them came the massive scarlet streams of turbolaser fire.

Shazzar tried to weave his way through the flashes of red that illuminated the cockpit when they came too close. A few struck the shields – they weren’t going to be able to take many more hits. Left, right, left, barrel roll to the right and then again further right. Shazzar’s heart was racing.

Cranking the acceleration, Shazzar sped over the bow of the ship, which appeared as a great cliff and below an endless abyss. He dove down, pulled up hard, and spun a corkscrew. He came about, heading towards the nearest hangar of the Star Destroyer.

“I can’t keep the fighters off us if you keep twirling around like a ballerina!” Katarn shouted from the rear of the ship. Shazzar ignored him. He leveled out and sped straight for the hangar.

“What are you doing?” Falkko asked, noticing that the distance was closing and they weren’t slowing down. “You can’t land in the hangar at this speed!”

“Better buckle up,” the Phantom said, leaving the cockpit to hurry and find a secure place to set down.

Their destination wasn’t unnoticed by their gunner. Katarn swore into the intercom. “Are you crazy?” he screamed. Still Shazzar ignored his pointless chatter. His brow was tightening; sweat started beading on his face. Shields were failing; they couldn’t take any more punishment from the fighters.

Shazzar’s pursuers kept right on him like rabid and starved kath hounds, not flinching from tailing directly on his vector. His breathing was getting tense. Finally he simply held it. At the last possible moment, Shazzar changed course and arced upwards, making a huge loop. The fighters behind him were too close to respond in time. They crashed into the Star Destroyer’s hull, their explosions appearing as mere orange flowers against the stark gray surface of the ship.

Turbolaser fire raced after him, Falkko was shouting, Katarn was screaming, alarms were screeching…Shazzar blocked them all out. He could hear nothing but the blood pumping in his ears. The ship disappeared from view and all he saw were the infinity of stars shooting across the window. Then the Destroyer returned, and Shazzar was aiming straight for the hangar again. This time he didn’t plan on veering.

The flashes of cannon fire grew brighter and their frequency intensified. Nearing less than half a kilometer away from the hangar, Shazzar diverted all power to the forward shields and inertial dampeners.

He hadn’t done it quite in time.

Through the hangar they screamed, before the shields could raise and stop them. The speed hadn’t decreased enough and the ship smashed into the far wall. Shazzar saw the thick barrier approach, felt the bone smashing impact, heard the screech and crash of metal…and then he was thrust by the momentum and he blacked out.

Sparks burst from the wiring; the zap of electric currents shorting out filled the air. Smoke told of fires that burned in the hangar and the ship. Screeching of strained metal moaned as though in agony. And faintly heard were the sounds of crewmen shouting. Fire crews and security guards were marshalling in the ravaged hangar.

The Phantom was shaken, but altogether completely fine. He rose from the floor he lay on. He had gotten down into the center of the mostly empty cargo hold to await the crash that their pilot was intent on seeing through. He hadn’t hit anything from the crash, but some of the empty plasteel canisters had struck him.

He shoved them away with relative ease. Only a little pain from the impact. Nothing serious. He was too big to be phased by such insignificant objects. If he could survive – of all things – a thermal detonator explosion and a subsequent collapse of a corridor, he could handle a few things thrown through the air at him.

While he was alright, the ship was not. Metal had been cracked, panels were dislodged, wires hung like crazed spider webs from the walls, and a few fires crackled in the hall, ignited by the exploding sparks like a firework show.

Treading carefully, the Phantom stepped out of the cargo hold and took in his surroundings. He used the HUD system in his helmet to scan for anything of interest. There was none, but he did detect three life signs. The others were still alive.

He made his way to the nearest one. Katarn was hanging limp out of the gunner’s chair. The Zabrak moaned weakly.

The Phantom cleared his path towards him through the clutter of the damage. He shook his companion.

“What happened?” Katarn groaned.

“We crash landed into the Destroyer’s hangar,” the Phantom replied. “Come on, get up.”

“Crashed?” Katarn’s eyes tried to open weakly. “I’ll blast that cloth-wrapped face son of a murglak…”

“You’re not going to do anything of the sort.”

Katarn’s eyes opened fully, the pupils were dilated. “What do you mean? You’re not the boss…”

“I’m the one still standing right now,” the Phantom countered. “Here’s what we’re going to do – we allow security to come and take away the other two. From what I can detect, they’re still unconscious. The cockpit got hit the hardest, obviously. You’re going to greet them and claim that you were a bounty hunter that had been hired by Toxeti’s agents to bring them in.”

“Oh please,” Katarn scoffed. “They’ll never believe that.”

“It doesn’t matter. Nobody that saw you is still alive, and you’re still awake, which means you weren’t in the cockpit when they crashed. Tell them they overpowered you while on your way to collect.”

“Now that’s just stupid,” the Zabrak tried to get up from the chair. “There are so many things wrong with that story…like why they didn’t kill me and instead just locked me up? What about…?”

“Like I said,” the Phantom interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. All you’ve got to do is keep people interested and distracted with you while I sort this all out.”

“Sort this out? Are you going to take the bounty for yourself? Because if you are…”

“Shut up!” the giant bellowed. “I can’t take an entire ship on my own, but you all are too weak right now to help. So you’ll let them be taken to the brig and you’ll keep them busy until you’re all recovered. Then we’ll take this ship and settle this matter.”

“Won’t they be upset if I claim to be their captor?”

The Phantom sighed in frustration. “Seriously? We don’t have time for you stupid questions. You’ll tell them it was a cover, which is the case here.”

Then there came sounds of footsteps echoing through the broken ship. Security.

“Let them find you,” the Phantom shoved his finger in Katarn’s chest. “And don’t mess this up.”

He then activated his cloak before Katarn could respond. He lifted Katarn out of his seat and shoved him into the hall. It wouldn’t do to have him found in the gunner’s station. Then the Phantom blocked the entry to the rear guns, making it impassable.

A few moments of swaying, five troopers, fully armed, soon found Katarn. Their guns pointed at him and one of them ordered that he put his hands up.

Katarn did so. “Thank goodness you found me,” he said. “What’s with the guns?”

“Stop talking and submit to our custody,” the lead trooper ordered.

“Custody? You don’t understand,” Katarn began his lie. “I’m a mercenary Toxeti’s man, Crage, hired. I was bringing in the hunters that the Empire had sent after him. They overpowered me, dumped me nearly dead in the cargo hold, and took over the ship. They’re up in the cockpit, I’ll take you to them.”

“What about the gunner?” the trooper asked, his tone showed that he didn’t quite believe Katarn’s ruse.

“He’s dead,” Katarn lied. “The way there is collapsed, and there’s no point in trying to get to his body.”

“Why should I believe you?” the soldier jabbed at him with the blaster rifle. “I have no proof that you’re not one of the bounty hunters.”

“And you don’t have any proof claiming I am,” Katarn countered. “Can we leave this ship? The air is horrid. Let’s grab the bounty hunters and we’ll settle this out later.”

The trooper held the gun to him for a moment, and then he dropped it. “We’ll see if you are who you say you are. Come on,” he told everyone, “get those bounty hunters and take them to the brig.”

Katarn smiled when they turned their backs. Well, at least they sort of bought it.

From his hiding in plain sight, the Phantom watched as they dragged the unconscious bounty hunters to a cell. The troopers led Katarn away to the bridge. When he was finally alone, he made his move.

Strolling through the labyrinthine halls of the ship, he passed by the hapless crew easily. He kept just far enough away from everyone that they wouldn’t detect his presence by accident or feel his wind as he walked past. Only once did someone hesitate when he came near, but they soon dismissed whatever they thought they felt as nothing, and so the Phantom went on his way.

He accessed one of the auxiliary computer panels to get what information he deemed pertinent to the situation. The files on the fleet gave him technical readouts of most of the cruisers, but nothing about the Star Destroyers, or which one Toxeti was currently on. He did manage to find out the names of the massive warships, though, which wasn’t very helpful, but at least it might help in deciding which one the target was on:

They were called True Glory, Black Winter, and Nightsword. Nice names, but anyone of them could be the rogue Sith’s ship…No, he found they were currently on board the True Glory. Well, that narrowed the list down. But they weren’t going to be able to search each one.

The Phantom paused when he heard several footsteps coming down the hall. He figured they would be a routine patrol or something of the sort – but he still needed to be cautious. He didn’t want to have himself revealed at the wrong time.

These weren’t the clomping of standard trooper boots, though. He heard a flapping and grating sound, like scales. For a second, the Phantom supposed it might be Shazzar – he had noticed his reptile-skin boots. But that was implausible. Shazzar was in the brig…

He heard the hissing that Trandoshans called speech. So animal-like, so savage, the Phantom thought. It was a wonder anyone could converse with those lizards. Fortunately, the Phantom could understand their talk, thanks to the translator in his HUD – he had just about everything he needed in there – although the creepy echo of the speaker made it sound a little strange.

“Brother Havossk,” one of the lizards said, “why do we patrol like sssubservient houndsss through the metal pathsss of thisss ship?”

“Because, Brother,” the lead Trandoshan answered, “we have sworn to fight for the Lord Toxeti. We mussst sssee if any of the bounty hunters have boarded the ship and sssneak through the passagesss. And we mussst kill them.”

Not if I kill you first, the Phantom thought. But he couldn’t engage them here. There were cameras and alarms that would detect him. He would have to lead them into a secluded area. And he would need to hurry for…

“Brother!” another of the Trandoshan mercenaries hissed. “I sssmell a ssstranger nearby!”

“Yesss,” the rest of the lizards nodded.

“Gunsss at the ready,” their leader ordered. “I smell a tricky one.”

Tricky was the worst understatement he had heard, the Phantom mused. He was beyond tricky, he was spectral…paranormal, even.

He shut off the computer terminal just before the lizards turned the corner. Then he silently made his way for the nearest abandoned room. Once far enough away down the hall, he made a few tapping noises with his foot to mimic footsteps. The Trandoshans caught the sound and pursued carefully.

At last he found an empty room, and a large one too. It was a mess hall, but it didn’t look like anyone was using it currently. However, there was a pair of cameras. And that was going to be a problem. He couldn’t simply take them out, otherwise security would be sure of his presence. And taking out the lights wouldn’t help, because not only could the cameras see in different spectrums of light, but also the Trandoshans had very capable sight in low light.

The Phantom thought quickly, and then he had a plan. He rushed over to the nearest camera and accessed the wiring. Without paying too much attention to detail, he set it up into a feedback loop image, so that what appeared on the camera was the replay of the last hour, in which nothing was out of the ordinary. He did the same with the other camera. Once done, he turned to see the Trandoshans entering the room.

“He’sss here,” one of them sniffed.

It was time to turn off the cloaking device, the Phantom thought. He was going to fight this lot man to man.

The lizards’ guns rose when they saw him appear out the air. They snarled, baring their primal sharp teeth. One fired immediately.

The Phantom leaped out of the way, and his blades sprung forth from his gauntlet. Then he charged them, cutting down the lizard that had fired. The others spread out through the mess hall, firing sporadically. They appeared to be taking care not to fire wantonly, so as not to hit each other in crossfire.

One of them was using a table as cover. The Phantom leaped over it, kicking the Trandoshan in the face as he came over. Then, once landing behind him, the Phantom grabbed hold of him and used him as a shield against the others. Three blaster bolts struck the unlucky lizard in the chest.

Then the Phantom took the dead shield and hurled it at a pair of Trandoshans nearby. For the moment, they were incapacitated. Not for long, but long enough.

Something struck his arm. A blaster bolt. His thick armor wasn’t too badly damaged, but it left a nasty black mark and some pain from the impact. He looked up to the lizard that had fired. It was quite shocked that his armor was more powerful than it appeared.

The Phantom rotated his stun rifle and fired at the Trandoshan, who dropped to the ground. Before making his way over there, though, he ripped the table from the its stand. He launched it like a discus at another Trandoshan, and the blow landed squarely in his chest, shattering his rib cage.

Then the Phantom got behind the food counter of the room, making his way over to the stunned reptile. Once there, he reached over the counter, picked it up, and dragged it back behind with him. He proceeded to snap the neck and then rose using the lizard as another shield. From behind his cover, he pulled out one of his trophy blasters and laid down a barrage of fire. He fatally hit two Trandoshans and wounded another.

There were just so many of them. It appeared how many he killed was just not enough. Then he noticed the lead Trandoshan take out a thermal detonator and prepared to hurl it over the counter. When would people learn that those faulty grenades never really worked?

Just before he threw, the Phantom fired his stun rifle at the leader. The blue bolt struck him, shorting out his nerves. He dropped to the ground, and the activated detonator along with him. The Phantom got down as the explosion flashed, vaporizing the Trandoshan and blinding his fellows.

With the smoke still swirling in the room, the Phantom emerged from behind the counter, using his HUD to locate the rest of the lizards. He made his way to one and slashed its throat. With another one, he kicked its gut, knocking it to the ground. Then he ran him through.

Three more were left, and they had recovered from the blast. As the Phantom arrived to kill one of them, the other two fired their rifles. A few hit his armor, but most missed due to the hazy air.

The lizard dodged the Phantom’s upward slash, and made a slash of his own with his claws. There was no effect, so the Trandoshan then started using fist and foot. The Phantom took a blow to his gut from the lizard’s fist, but he sidestepped the following kick. His armor didn’t give him total protection, so the blow to his abdomen had actually hurt a bit. Though not enough to really phase him.

Finally, he caught the Trandoshan’s fist in his armored hand and squeezed tight. He heard the bones in the lizard’s hand snap and pop. The Trandoshan screamed in pain. Then the Phantom took the arm and twisted it, breaking the lizard’s shoulder. Before his opponent could scream further, he smashed its face with a head butt and put a blaster shot in his chest. He then shot the other two in quick succession.

At last the room was silent. But this ruckus wasn’t going to go by unnoticed. While the cameras may not have seen anything, someone may definitely have heard the explosion and the rest of the brawl. He needed to get out of here and speed things up.

The Phantom activated his cloaking generator and left the room. He started sprinting down the halls as long as there wasn’t anyone around. Eventually, he found himself a system computer, connected to the specs of the Star Destroyer. Unfortunately, it required an ID card to allow access. He groaned and prepared to start trying to hack into the system.

But a moment later, one of the ship’s engineers came down the hall. The scrawny human was preoccupied with a datapad full of calculations and technical data. He probably wouldn’t have seen the bounty hunter even if he didn’t have his cloak on. Dangling from his jacket was an ID card.

The Phantom carefully reached over and snagged the card as the engineer passed. He didn’t notice he had been pick pocketed at all. And he probably wouldn’t find out for some time as well.

Inserting the card, the Phantom found he had access to the technical readouts and a map of the entire ship…among other things. It didn’t tell him about the other ships, but it gave him all the details he would ever want with this one. He could make good use of this information.

He looked up the holding cells and found they were several levels below him. The bridge was a long ways away as well. He took some time debating which he was going to head to first.

The thought crossed his mind that he could just leave the other bounty hunters in their cell and finish the job on his own. But then he figured that he wasn’t going to be able to take on this entire ship’s crew, as well as the crew of the ship Toxeti was on, all by himself. It just wasn’t possible. He was going to need the others.

So he downloaded all the important data he needed from the computer to his HUD. Then he followed the halls as he made his way to the brig.

Katarn was brought to the bridge. The troopers surrounded him, their weapons still at the ready. It was obvious that they still didn’t trust him as being whom he claimed. That didn’t surprise him since he never really was a great liar. Except with women.

On the bridge were the usual engineers and crew. Then there was an Admiral dressed disgustingly proper, a Neimoidian that seemed to exhibit a passive nervousness, and a tall armored Mandalorian.

That was just great, Katarn thought sarcastically. He hated Mandalorians.

The Admiral turned to regard Katarn and the troopers. “Who is this?” he asked.

“Sir, he claims to be a bounty hunter hired to capture the mercenaries that the Empire hired to hunt down Toxeti,” the trooper commander replied.

“Is that so?” the Admiral raised a bushy eyebrow. “Who are you?” he directed to Katarn.

“The name’s Hel Katarn,” the Zabrak thrust out his hand as though to shake the admiral’s, but when there was no return gesture, he brought his hand back to his side.

“I’ve never seen you before,” the Admiral stated. “And I have all the mercenaries Lord Toxeti has contracted in my database.”

“I’m a newer recruit,” Katarn shrugged. “I guess Crage hasn’t given you my information yet.”

“All the information is updated daily,” the Admiral frowned. “And Crage was killed a few days ago.” He accessed the information of the contracted associates on one of the consoles, and Katarn’s face was not among them.

“Well, maybe Crage forgot to file the report?” Katarn swallowed nervously. “You know how Sith can be…”

“Silence!” the Admiral snapped. He spoke to the troopers, “Take this bounty hunter to the brig with the others. We’ll determine the truth of who he is.”

The guard seized Katarn by the arms and dragged him off the bridge. He was about to resist and go for his blaster, but one of the soldiers jabbed him with a shock staff and he lost feeling in his arms and legs. They then proceeded to take him to the turbolift and down to the holding cells.

Shazzar was regaining consciousness. The first thing he registered was immense pain throbbing through his body, but the highest intensity was in his head. It took a while before he could fully register what had just happened. He remembered flying the ship, the noises he blocked out, and then the crash. It had only been a few immeasurable seconds…and then his world went black.

He couldn’t tell where he was. And he thought for a while that he was dreaming. He felt gentle hands treating his head with a cloth. Shazzar knew someone was there, but he couldn’t detect anything beyond simply feeling the cloth dabbing his forehead where it hurt the most – probably bleeding.

Then some of his other senses returned. He was lying on a cold hard floor, but his head was propped up against something softer. It wasn’t a pillow, or any sort of cushion. It was a person.

Shazzar was probably delusional, but he was sure it was his wife, Vaala. The person’s body was cool and relaxed. The touch on his head was tender. The skin was perfectly smooth…

He was thrust to full consciousness. Too perfect…

For a mere second, Shazzar looked up to confirm that it was Falkko. And then he shot up and nearly leaped away from him. He had moved too suddenly, for he soon became disoriented and uneasy. Pain shook through his nerves.

Shazzar got a hold of himself discerned that they were in a prison cell. He looked back at his cellmate, who had not moved despite Shazzar’s start.

“What kind of sick joke is this?” Shazzar put his hand to his head. There was no blood, but he had been wounded. It had simply been taken care of. “What do think you are doing?” He glared at the Anzati.

“I think I was treating your head and helping you recover,” Falkko replied. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Oh, there’s plenty wrong I can think of,” Shazzar said as he felt around his nose.

Falkko chuckled. “Even if I had fed on you, there’s no way you would be able to tell. I’m not messy like you may think.”

“You can’t blame me for checking,” Shazzar answered. “You are, after all, shoving something up a person’s nose.”

“But I haven’t done anything to you,” Falkko rose his hands to emphasize his innocence. “I swore I wouldn’t harm you, remember? I was simply trying to help you get better. It looks like you’re quickly recovering.”

Shazzar felt around his nose some more, still unsure of the situation and his companion’s claim. “Where are the others?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Falkko replied. “They’re not here, and they’re not in any of the other cells. Right now, we’re alone.”

Shazzar shivered. He didn’t like that idea. “Do we know if they’re still alive?”

“No.”

“Then we’ve got to come up with a way to get out of here,” Shazzar looked through the cell’s force field to look for any possibilities. There wasn’t any way to get through the field, however, even if he could find something out there. To his surprise, there was only one guard. “Well, I guess since they’ve got this nice shield up they don’t really need to worry about guards.”

“There weren’t many guards in my prison at the asylum,” Falkko said. “Most were security druids – and the warden wasn’t figuring on anyone possibly getting out.”

“Asylum?” Shazzar looked back at the Anzati. This guy was locked up in an asylum? Not surprising, but it was strange that Viruul would recruit someone like this. “Well, you obviously got out. Any ideas here?”

“The Sith Lord took care of presenting the opportunity. I simply seized it.”

“Ah, figures,” Shazzar sighed. “I guess we’re just going to have to wait for an opportunity.”

A sound came from down the hall. The door opened and the bored guard rose to meet the troopers that filed in. Bringing someone with them.

“Put him with the others,” the head trooper ordered. As they neared, Shazzar and Falkko saw it was Katarn.

“Well hello there,” Shazzar smiled. “Nice to see that you’ll be joining us.”

“Shut your mouth,” Katarn growled. “If it weren’t for your stupid stunt, none of us would be in this situation.”

“Yes, we’d be floating dead in space,” Falkko countered. “Now that you’re here, though, maybe we can clear up some unfinished business. I’m getting awful hungry.”

“There will be none of that,” the soldier barked as he lowered the field. The other guards had their guns raised, ready if they were to try anything. “Put him in with the others, and place restrainers on the lot of them. Admiral Grimm doesn’t want them killing each other or breaking out before we learn what we can from them.”

Katarn was shoved through. Before they raised the field back up, the entry door to the prison block opened unexpectedly. There was nobody there. Suddenly, one of the soldiers was hurled through the air and slammed against the wall. He fell to the ground dead, with a pair of gashes along his chest.

Another guard encountered much the same fate. One of the troopers attempted to fire at something, but he was swatted away and his face smacked hard into the hard metal of the wall. Everyone could hear the bones in his skull crack.

Before anyone else could respond, many dropped dead from slashing and impaling, until only the lead trooper remained. He tried to fire at the invisible attacker, but his blaster bolts simply zoomed through empty air and hit the wall. Then he gasped and was raised up into the air, the pressure of lifting him was directed in his upper body.

He looked down in shock and perceived two bloodied blades sticking through his chest. Then he was yanked off and dropped to the ground where he slowly expired.

The three bounty hunters in the cell smiled as the Phantom emerged from his cloak.

“I’m guessing they didn’t buy your story?” he asked Katarn.

“No, no, they just wanted to show me the holding cells,” Katarn replied facetiously, though his humor was unappreciated.

“Well, let’s go,” the Phantom said. “Your effects are in those lockers,” he pointed to a row of storage containers on the far side of the cellblock. Falkko and Shazzar rushed to gather their belongings, and Katarn shook off any of the remaining effects from the stun baton. At last, all four of them were armed and prepared.

When the guard failed to report in, the escaped prisoner alarm went off and sealed the prison block. However, the bounty hunters were already out and moving through the halls heading for the turbolift. A few guards and crewmen happened to cross their path and attempted to stop them. They were quickly dispatched.

Alarms were ringing throughout the ship, and the racket was starting to seriously irritate Shazzar. By looking at the others’ faces, he figured they were annoyed as well. Too much noise meant that the Admiral would have time to get ready when they arrived at the bridge. And he would probably have every entrance locked down tight. Which was the case. On many occasions they reached a magnetically sealed or locked door, and other times there were more direct security measures, like guards and autoturrets.

Fortunately, the Phantom was putting his downloaded specs of the ship to good use. He found them alternate and unorthodox paths and detours to get around serious barriers. And the four of them were capable of dealing with the resistance they met.

Falkko was upset about having to borrow one of the Phantom’s trophy blasters – he would have rather been able to snack on the guards they encountered. But he understood that ranged combat was necessary for the moment. It wouldn’t do to get too close to someone and be gunned down by a turret.

They eventually reached the final turbolift that would take them to the bridge. While they waited in the tight space speeding upwards, Katarn tapped his foot impatiently, much to the chagrin of his companions. He didn’t care, though.

Upon exiting, they found the door securely locked down. There was no other way to get to the bridge, and no way to manually override the seal. But Shazzar had another way of getting through.

From his pack he withdrew an item he had kept for some time, but had hardly ever used it because of its unfamiliar nature. At first glance it didn’t look like anything intimidating or effective – just a simple, yet nicely crafted metal cylinder. However, most people understood what it was when they saw it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Katarn asked.

Shazzar confirmed it by igniting the lightsaber. The crimson blade sprung to life, the hum and smell of ozone were easily recognizable.

“Where did you get a lightsaber?” Katarn inquired, surprised. “And a Sith’s no less. How did that happen?”

“I picked it off a dead one’s corpse, a while back on another job,” Shazzar answered. “He wasn’t using it, so I figured I shouldn’t let such an incredible tool go to waste.”

Shazzar then stuck the blade through the sealed door and proceeded to slowly cut an entryway. It was harder than most material, for the magnetic seal made it difficult to cut through, but it wasn’t impenetrable.

“When I’m through,” he told the Phantom, “kick the door in and I’ll soften the resistance up before we all go in.”

The saber’s blade left a glowing trail of molten metal surrounding the incision in its wake. Finally, Shazzar had made it full-circle, and he stood back, deactivating the saber while grabbing a concussion grenade with his other hand.

Moving up to the door, the Phantom raised his massive foot and slammed it into the cut out section. The large section of the portal flew forward, and there was the sound of a man crying out before being crushed. Some unlucky guard had been foolish enough to be standing close enough in the direct path of the entry.

Shazzar followed the breach by rolling in the grenade. A bright and loud flash, and then the foursome invaded the bridge, firing at the crew and guards in their path.

On the far side of the deck was the Admiral, the Neimoidian, and the Mandalorian. Nearly a dozen guards stood in their path.

“Kill them!” commanded the Admiral.

The guards opened fire, and the bounty hunters found cover. Both groups continually fired, hid, then fired again. Only a few guards were squarely hit – the ones who had been most affected by the concussion grenade.

Katarn focused his targeting visor to aid in his shots. With quick scans and careful aim, he was able to take two down. He then had to duck behind his cover as four blaster bolts converged at his location. After that had passed he reemerged and fired at more of the guards, killing one.

Shazzar’s modified rifle was picking off men at a slow pace, but he was sure that every single hit dropped the target. There was no need for double-checking whether they were dead, because he already knew they were.

The bounty hunters finished off the guards and started moving in on the three men. The Admiral stood unflinching as they approached.

“It’s over, Admiral Grimm,” Shazzar said. “Cooperate or die.”

“You’re mistaken, mercenary filth,” Grimm responded. “It’s not over yet.”

Through the entry behind them came two spider-like droids, bristling with blaster cannons. Immediately the droids started firing, forcing Shazzar, the Phantom, and Katarn to take cover. Falkko ignored the droids that seemed preoccupied with them and made his way towards the three leaders of the ship.

The Admiral remained in place the Neimoidian cowered, looking for a way out of the situation. The Mandalorian stepped forward to face the Anzati.

“Kill him, Krayno!” Grimm ordered. The warrior ignored his command, already engaging himself in battle. His vibrosword was in his hand, his stance coiled and ready to spring.

Falkko drew his blades from his back and spun them around twice in his fingers. Then he lunged at his opponent, who leapt forward to meet him. Their blades clashed against each other with a shrill ringing. Krayno swung from the left, and Falkko glanced it off with his right blade, countering it with a slash from his own left hand.

The Mandalorian jumped to the side to avoid the attack, and then he made a thrust for the chest. Crossing his blades together, Falkko stopped the lunge just before the blade reached his body – mere centimeters away.

Backing off, Falkko then made a double swipe – one blade up high, the other low. Krayno responded by carefully timing his jump back to avoid the lower swing and barely ducked the upper one. His balance was impressive. He then recovered and blocked Falkko’s following attack from the right.

Falkko stretched his leg high and kicked the Mandalorian’s face, knocking him back a few paces. Then he pursued with a twirling leap that would have easily slashed Krayno to ribbons. But the skilled warrior’s reflexes were acrobatic. He bent over backwards, put his hands to the floor, and flipped himself back to his feet. Falkko was left slicing through emptiness.

Krayno then leaped into the air and kicked Falkko’s face, knocking him to the ground. He landed and swung to hack off the Anzati’s head. But Falkko rolled to his left and leaped to his feet, slashing the Mandalorian’s legs in the process. The thick armor protected from serious injury, but the blow still made him stumble.

The Mandalorian recovered and made a bold and reckless swipe from left to right. Falkko ducked barely in time, feeling the wind whoosh above him. The blade sliced a few hairs.

Falkko took the opening Krayno had left him slashed the flexible material between the Mandalorian’s armor plates. It was a successful attack, and blood soon trailed the blade. Krayno did not cry out, nor did he falter in trying to make another swipe, but a blaster bolt stuck his head and he fell limp to the ground.

Staring at his fallen opponent for a moment, Falkko turned to see who had stolen his kill. It was Katarn, smiling in his arrogance. The others had dealt with the droids. Shazzar had bombarded one with high-powered blasts from his rifle, and the Phantom was in the process of ripping the head off the other.

Admiral Grimm stood shocked at his security’s complete failure. The bounty hunters had taken down everything sent against them, and now there wasn’t anything left. Krayno was dead, and Cumray was worse than useless. He stood stiff and defiant as the invaders approached him.

“I don’t take kindly to people who take another man’s kill,” Falkko shot at Katarn. “It’s disgraceful, even for you.”

“I wasn’t going to wait around while you had your little show and then started snacking. Things needed to get done, so I finished them.” Katarn didn’t even look at the Anzati as he spoke.

“Quit your whining, both of you,” the Phantom growled. “Eat the Neimoidian if you’re so starving.”

Cumray quivered intensely – on the brink of hysteria. “No!” he wailed. “Please don’t hurt me!”

Falkko scoffed. “I wouldn’t make a meal of a worm like that. Even I have standards on what I eat.” He simply raised one of his swords and slashed through the Neimoidian, who screamed pathetically.

“Alright, Admiral,” Shazzar shoved his rifle’s barrel into Grimm’s chest. “It’s time to tell us which ship Toxeti’s on.”

“I would never reveal that to barbarians such as you,” Grimm stood unmoved.

“You can tell us now,” Katarn said, “or we can hurt you, and then you’ll tell us anyway.”

“There’s nothing you can do to break my will.”

A beeping echoed on one of the ravaged bridge’s consoles. Following that, a holoprojection lit up, revealing a tall man, with pale skin, dark eyes, and a cloak that screamed of melodrama.

“Admiral, I’ve felt a disturbance about your ship…” He stopped when he saw the situation.

“You must be the infamous Lord Toxeti,” Shazzar rested his rifle on his shoulder. “We’ve been looking so hard to find you.”

Toxeti frowned. “Your search has come to nothing, bounty hunters. We are departing now, and one lost Star Destroyer isn’t going to make any difference.”

“What about your Admiral?” Falkko asked. “Is he so expendable?”

“Release him, or I will destroy you,” Toxeti said after a brief pause. “I am more than willing to destroy that ship now that it has been compromised. And you won’t be able to get off in time, I assure you.”

“Make this easier on all of us and surrender,” Katarn said.

Shazzar, noticing movement through the bridge’s window and hearing sirens begin to wail, added, “You’ve already lost, Sith.”

The movement suddenly revealed itself to be seven Star Destroyers and three escorts exiting hyperspace. Once they slowed to impulse, clouds of fighters swarmed out from their sides.

Toxeti cut transmission as he shouted to his crew, “Prepare jump!”

Shazzar smiled. He knew he could count on Viruul showing up.

Viruul stood with arms folded on the bridge of his flagship, Apocrypha, studying the insignificant ships spread out before him. Three Destroyers and maybe a dozen frigates. The whole of Toxeti’s fleet was…unimpressive.

“My lord, the fleet appears to be moving to jump to hyperspace,” Zelos stated behind him.

“I am aware of that,” Viruul responded, contemptuously. He turned and walked away from the window. “Set up the interdictor fields, Admiral Taan,” he ordered to a Chiss dressed in a glossy black uniform, lightly adorned with medals. He was relatively young, with deep blue skin and bright red eyes, his black hair cut short and well kept.

Taan bowed, “Yes, my lord.” He gave the orders over the comm.

“No one escapes,” Viruul emphasized.

“I understand completely, Lord Viruul,” the Chiss replied.

“Don’t disprove our faith in you, Admiral. The Grand Moff disagreed with your early promotion, but the Council and I have convinced him otherwise.”

“And for that I am most grateful,” Taan said. “I shall not fail you.”

Viruul turned back to the viewport and smiled. With the field in place, Toxeti’s fleet would be unable to flee. And they would be destroyed swiftly. However, Viruul was cautious. He didn’t want too many unnecessary losses in this battle, for that would only strengthen any of Toxeti’s surviving supporters to learn he had fought bravely to the last.

No, this was to be a complete and low-cost wipe. If everything went well, Viruul would see to it that Admiral Taan was greatly rewarded.

And the bounty hunters too, of course. Their services on this job had been more than satisfactory.

Viruul watched as his fleet moved in closer, preparing to engage the enemy forming a semicircle around Toxeti’s forces. Then they would close the ring and smash them to atoms. But the thought still lingered – after all this trouble, Viruul desired to fight Toxeti in person, to defeat him utterly with his hand, instead of with a cannon.

That would wait, for the moment. The battle between warships came first.

The bounty hunters watched the Imperial fleet approach, a bit awed at the size of the attack force – it was much larger than anyone would have supposed.

“We need to get aboard Toxeti’s ship,” Shazzar stated.

“Why? His ship will be destroyed in the battle,” Katarn responded.

“Are you willing to leave it all up to chance?” Shazzar asked in return. “What if were to escape? Then not only would you not be getting paid, but you’d also probably get killed by Viruul’s fury.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Katarn asked.

“It’s the truth,” the Phantom answered. “Besides, don’t you want to take down the Sith Lord yourself?”

“Not really,” Katarn replied. “I like to keep my body from being…diced up by a lightsaber.”

“Fine,” Shazzar shrugged. “I guess we’ll just leave you here and handle Toxeti ourselves.”

“You will not!” Katarn became dejected. “You’re not stealing my payment!”

“Then you’re coming?”

Katarn sighed and then growled. “Yeah, I’m coming. But your ship’s toast…”

“Then we’ll take one of their shuttles,” Shazzar said impatiently. “Are there any other stupid things you’d like to whine about?”

The Zabrak noticed the others glaring at him, and he knew it was pointless to try to win this argument. He had no choice to submit. “No, no, I’m done pointing out the flaws. Let’s go.”

Shazzar, Katarn, and the Phantom started moving to the door. Falkko remained, staring at the lone Admiral. Grimm appeared to be in shock at all that had happened and was having a difficult time registering it all.

“Are you coming?” Katarn asked. “Everyone already hounded me.”

Falkko kept looking at Grimm and he licked his lips. “Just a moment,” he answered. “I’m still hungry.”

Viruul sighed as Toxeti’s fleet started trying to scatter. They couldn’t jump because of the gravity well generators, so they were attempting to flee the range of the field and escape. All Viruul had to do was watch as they were destroyed in sequence.

The lighter cruisers engaged the Imperial forces, firing at the fighters and trying to pass over, beneath, or between the Star Destroyers. An attempt at keeping the focus on them, instead of on Toxeti’s large ships. It was bold, but it would amount to nothing. They would all be destroyed in the end.

Then the unthinkable happened. One by one, the enemy fleet started to fade away. Had they broken the field? No, that was not possible…they were engaging cloaking devices.

“My lord!” Tiburon exclaimed. “How is that possible? Those warships are not built with such abilities – and certainly not Star Destroyers.”

“I can see that,” Viruul hissed. He turned to the Admiral. “Well, Taan, what do you intend to do?”

The Chiss had a brief look of surprise and alarm on his face, but he soon recomposed himself. He ordered to one of the ensigns, “Fire particle bursts at coordinates three-one-five mark two-seven-three. That should let us see the nearest ships.”

“Make it quick, Admiral,” Viruul said. “The smaller ships are of no consequence, it is those Destroyers I want dealt with.”

The burst of tiny particles sprayed out like a shower of glitter. They soon surrounded and revealed the outlines of the frigates. Taan ordered to open fire, and the Star Destroyer’s turbolasers made short work of them.

The light ships were bolting in every direction. There was no plane in space, so some went up, some went down, some veered off to the side as best they could. Instead of acting like a school of fish and remaining close to each other so that the predator could not pick out anyone in particular, they scattered, and the Star Destroyers – with their fighter swarms – picked them off.

Explosions appeared as insignificant blossoms against the void of space. The life support systems ignited suddenly – yet the flames disappeared just as quickly in vacuum. Behind him, Viruul could feel the bursts of exhilaration emanating from Tiburon as each ship was destroyed.

He turned to the Twi’lek with a frown. “Save your excitement for when the Destroyers burn. These insignificant cruisers simply waste out time.”

Tiburon bowed and took a few steps back. Viruul noticed that Zelos’ face looked calm and emotionless.

“When did you start becoming so stoic?” Viruul asked, noticing that Zelos had more jewels on him than normal. “I should think you alongside Tiburon.”

“You’ve made yourself clear before,” the decorated, red-robed Sith replied. “One must view such triviality as pointless and contemptible. I am simply obeying your teachings, my lord.”

Viruul’s eyes narrowed. Curious words from him, he thought. Never before has he been so calm and at ease. Especially in the presence of a member of the Dark Council. Either Viruul was losing his touch at intimidation – unlikely – or Zelos had something else on his mind. He needed to find out what.

Turning back to Admiral Taan, Viruul said, “Keep pushing forward and modify the scanners in whatever way you can. Toxeti will not escape us!”

Taan bowed in understanding and continued monitoring the fleet’s progress. The lighter cruisers were being taken care of, but the enemy Destroyers were too far away to detect currently.

Suddenly, there was a slight shake and a loud rumble. Viruul snarled, “What was that, Admiral?”

“Three Mandalorian battlecruisers have exited hyperspace and have begun to attack us!” the Admiral replied. “I don’t know where they came from.”

“Allies of Toxeti,” Viruul spat. “Don’t lose focus of the main objective, Admiral. Dispatch only a portion of the fleet, and continue searching for the missing ships.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Taan declared. “The cruisers are passing over our ships firing at a whim. They’re not willing to sit by and engage us properly. If we continue forward, they’ll wreak havoc on our flank.”

Viruul growled in annoyance. “So be it, we’ll face these traitorous dogs. Those bounty hunters better come up with something then. If Toxeti escapes…”

The bounty hunters sprinted their way through the halls to the nearest hangar. They encountered little resistance, for the ship was still in chaos from their escapade. However, upon reaching the hangar, they did have to fry more than ten deck crewmen around the shuttle that appeared to be awaiting them.

As they were about to get on board, Katarn stopped and happened to watch through the shields of the hangar bay as one of the nearby ships suddenly vanished.

“What the…!” he exclaimed. “Did anyone else just see that?”

“What is it now?” Shazzar sighed.

“The ship…” Katarn pointed to the empty space. “It just…disappeared.”

“Destroyed?” Falkko asked.

“No,” Katarn shook his head. “It pulled a Phantom move.”

“Cloaking device?” the Phantom asked.

Katarn nodded. “I think the whole fleet might be cloaked.”

“And why would you believe that?” Falkko frowned.

“Because I can’t see anything out there.”

“He’s right,” Shazzar shouted from inside the shuttle. “I’m not picking up any of the ships on the basic sensors.”

“Then how do we get to Toxeti’s ship?” Katarn asked.

The Phantom boarded the shuttle and took over the controls, pushing Shazzar carelessly aside. Quickly, he started accessing files and programs. He was silent, not even a breath was made audible.

“Care to tell us what you’re doing?” Shazzar asked. The other two had entered the shuttle’s cockpit.

“No time to explain,” the Phantom growled. He brought up his left hand to one of the access ports along the side of the sensor array. From his wrist came a pair of connection wires that plugged themselves in. A static humming began whirring in the computer. Then the sensor readings went blank.

“Oh great,” Katarn sighed. “Now we don’t have anything…”

He was silenced when the screen came back on-line; this time the readings detected the cloaked fleet. And there was a halo and pinging around one of the Star Destroyers.

“What did you just do?” Shazzar gasped in surprise.

“Downloaded ship information added to this shuttle’s flight logs and I’ve found Toxeti’s ship,” the Phantom pointed to the lighted up image. “That’s where our Sith Lord is.”

“What? How’d you do that, big guy?” Katarn asked, shocked.

The Phantom kept his wires connected to the system. “It doesn’t matter. The ship’s visible to scanners now, so let’s go.”

“Well,” Shazzar hesitated. “We can see where they are, sure, but how do we get aboard?”

“I’ll fly the ship this time,” the Phantom answered simply.

There were no objections after that and the other bounty hunters took a seat. All of them kept their curious eyes on their pilot, wondering just how he had managed to modify the sensors to detect the cloaked ships. Since he used a cloaking device himself, it didn’t seem that strange, but they still were suspicious and curious.

The flight wasn’t troubled by cannons firing at them this time. They simply appeared to be flying through empty space, with small, barely noticeable explosions behind them. Thoughts were starting to form about whether or not the Phantom knew where he was going. All of sudden, space disappeared and they were in a massive hangar bay. The shock was physical to the three passengers.

Setting down easily, the Phantom lowered the ramp. The bounty hunters exited and found several guards waiting for them.

“You know,” Katarn sighed. “I’d really like to effectively take these guys by surprise for once.”

A firefight ensued, everyone using whatever cover they could find.

“Once we deal with this lot,” Shazzar said, “it should be a lot easier making our way through the ship.” That is, as long as it had the same layout as the other Destroyer.

After defeating the guards that tried to hinder them, the bounty hunters rushed through the halls. Being so near to the end of the job weakened their sense of caution and propriety. They all wanted to be done as quickly as possible. But the troopers in the hallways had no intention of allowing them an easy time. In every corridor they encountered stiff resistance, and the deeper into the ship they advanced, the harder the soldiers tried to halt them.

Eventually, they reached a large chamber. In it was a throne, several other seats surrounding it, a holoprojector, and a great violet flag with an unfamiliar symbol hanging from the ceiling. On the far side of the room was Toxeti.

The Sith Lord had on his immense cloak, but he was dressed in battle armor. Greaves over his boots, gauntlets instead of hanging sleeves, and a helmet with a plume of feathers, like a peacock. Everything about him was fine, and probably expensive. He appeared to spare no expense as far as his dress was concerned.

“You’ve been very persistent,” Toxeti said. “And you should be commended for getting this far. But the hunt ends here, and so too do your lives.”

“What are you talking about?” Katarn asked confidently. “Your fleet is being destroyed as we speak. The Empire is here to take your movement down, and we’re taking you in.”

“I’m sure that’s what you’d like to believe,” Toxeti said amused. “But I’m afraid reality is not what you perceive.”

The wall behind the Sith opened up, revealing itself to be a massive doorway. Through it stepped…something. An immense giant – nearly twice as tall as the Phantom. It was draped in long red robes, wore a helmet that appeared to have no visible eyeholes, and held a massive axe that grazed the ceiling.

“By all that’s holy, what is that?” Shazzar gaped. Nobody answered, because nobody knew.

Toxeti chuckled. “Soldiers and agents you may be able to handle,” he mused. “But you’re no match for the design of genius.” He turned to the silent behemoth, pointing to the bounty hunters. “Take care of these fools.” He then whirled his cloak and left through the door. When it closed the giant gripped its weapon tightly.

“Oh boy…” Shazzar muttered.

The monstrous sentinel charged forward, the floor shook and rumbled with each step. It made a massive swing towards the bounty hunters, easily able to take all four of them out at once. They leaped and ducked just in time. Then they scattered.

It first focused on the nearest person – Katarn. It came down with its axe like a hammer to an iron. Katarn’s eyes widened in fear and he rolled away just before the blade slammed into the ground, easily punching a hole through it. It then lifted its weapon and tried again. Before it could attempt to kill him a third time, a blaster shot from Shazzar grabbed its attention.

Charging at him, the giant made another swing, like a ship flying directly towards Shazzar. The bounty hunter tried to leap out of the way, but was not quite successful. The weapon struck his legs as it passed, taking him with it. He was flung through the air and landed in an inglorious roll on the floor until the wall stopped him.

Then the big guard made a swing at Falkko. The Anzati thought about attempting to block the attack with his swords, but decided against it. Such a massive person was probably going to have more power behind his punches than he was able to withstand.

So instead he ducked to the ground and rolled in the opposite direction of the swipe. He then got up and ran around the giant towards where the throne and chairs were. He hoped he’d be able to have some cover and protection there. The behemoth followed him, and when Falkko hid behind the great chair, it hacked at it with its axe. The chair was smashed to fragments after one strike – crushing the metal as if it were nothing.

“This is no organic creature,” Falkko said to himself. He couldn’t feel anything about the giant, and he didn’t believe anything sentient could possibly have such immense strength.

The giant – having easily swept aside Falkko’s cover – lifted the axe and prepared to pound him into mush. But before it could, the Phantom had leaped onto its back and started hacking at its neck and shoulders with his blades. He even fired a few rounds of his stun rifle, but to no effect.

His attack seemed only to annoy the monster. It reached back with one of its hands, grabbed the Phantom, and hurled him away. He landed square on his back.

Turning back to the Anzati, the giant was suddenly confused as to where he had gone. It turned around and registered that Falkko was trying to dice up its legs with his blades. The giant kicked him away and made yet another attempt to crush him.

Katarn launched a wrist cable at the behemoth’s arm and tried to yank it back. However, the monstrosity was stronger and ended up pulling him towards it. It then grabbed him and chucked him high in the air across the room. To keep from being smashed against the wall, Katarn activated his magnetic gauntlet that hooked him to the metal ceiling. From this, he would be able to drop relatively unharmed.

Unless the giant cut him in half with the axe. It was charging towards him, lifting its arms into position to make a wide and deadly swing.

Shazzar had been out cold for a few moments after his flight. He finally woke up and noticed what was going on. He grabbed his rifle and turned the power to the highest setting. He’d only have one shot – because the high-intensity would overheat the rifle for a while – but Katarn didn’t look like he was going to have any second chances.

He aimed carefully at the giant’s head. He led the target at the right degree and then squeezed the trigger. The massive bolt of superheated tibanna gas exploded from the business end of his rifle and hit the giant’s head square on.

The behemoth stopped short. Mechanical creaking and grinding squealed from within – causing the bounty hunters to assume it was a droid. It then dropped the axe and collapsed to the ground. Whether by chance of fate, Shazzar had hit something critical.

A huge sigh of relief came from Katarn. Then he said, “Umm…would anyone mind giving me a little hand?”

Shazzar struggled to get up. His legs hurt, as did the rest of him. He was in no condition to catch the Zabrak. Fortunately, the Phantom got up and had easily recovered. He waited for Katarn to drop and grabbed him before he could have injured himself in the fall.

“Thanks,” Katarn said.

The Phantom shrugged and dropped him.

Everyone seemed to be alright – no serious damage caused by the…thing.

A loud and blaring alarm screeched from the giant. An intense light flickered on and off beneath the robes, like a heartbeat, and it was getting faster and faster.

“Son of a murglak!” Katarn cursed as he leaped to his feet. The four of them bolted for the door that Toxeti had departed through. The siren was loud and getting more unbearable.

They reached a nearby turbolift and called the lift. It didn’t respond right away. All the while the alarm continued. Katarn punched the lift button five times, hoping that his effort would bring it to them faster. At last the door opened and they clambered inside. It rushed up just as a massive explosion rocked the entire ship, vaporizing the deck they had just been on.

The lift groaned to a premature stop. “Ah, nuts!” Katarn sighed for the group. “What are we going to do now?”

“We climb,” Shazzar replied, taking out the lightsaber to cut a hole in the ceiling. When he was done, he jumped up, grabbed a hold of the edge, and pulled himself through. Falkko and the Phantom followed suit. Katarn remained alone in the lift for a moment, grumbling to himself, and then he too climbed up.

The long dark path upwards loomed ominously. But they all had no choice but to ascend it. It was not a fun task, as much of their strength had already been used up in their recent encounter.

Viruul’s mouth turned from a frown to a grin when he saw a massive explosion in the distance, and a Star Destroyer appear around it. The cloak had obviously failed due to the blast. Through his instincts and impressions in the Force, Viruul knew that was Toxeti’s ship. He just knew it.

“Admiral!” he called out. “Make for that crippled capital ship! Fire on its engines when in range so it can’t go anywhere.”

“Yes, my lord,” Taan answered. He was thankfully able to obey Viruul’s request – for the Mandalorian cruisers had been defeated. One was completely destroyed, another was going down in flames, so to speak; and the last was crippled and unable to do anything but try to limp away while their fighters hounded after it. He put in the course and the Apocrypha made for the newly revealed Star Destroyer.

“I recognize that ship,” Taan stated. “It’s the Black Winter.”

“The Black Winter was destroyed more than a year ago,” Tiburon sneered. “It’s not possible.”

“That may have been the report,” Viruul raised a finger. “But it appears it defected and joined with Toxeti’s little band.” He thought for a moment. “Taan, keep the other ships on alert. The other Star Destroyers are still out there, and I don’t want to be taken by surprise.”

“Of course, Lord Viruul.”

“When we are close enough, prepare to engage boarding sequence,” Viruul added. “I want to deal with this traitor personally.”

Being the first one to reach the nearest doors, the Phantom proceeded to manually open them. There was no way they were going to climb the entire way up the lift’s chute. They needed to get to the nearest deck and find a different path from there.

The Phantom got the door open, and they all made their way through. Huffing from the exerting effort after a tiring battle with that sentinel, they stopped a moment and allowed their strength to return. Their breath was caught in their throats when they heard an all too familiar humming a little ways away.

Looking up, they saw three Sith warriors with sabers alight. One was human – a burly man with dark skin and dreadlocks. His armor was a brick red and battered. One was a Devaronian, with sharp and polished horns and a toothy smirk on his face. His armor was more or less the same. To see the third, the bounty hunters had to look down a little to see clearly. He was a Chadra-fan, but he definitely didn’t look like his kin. His face was curled in a wicked snarl he hissed, instead of whistled.

Shazzar might have laughed were he not in a threatened situation. Katarn, however, hadn’t the same level of self-discipline and he snickered at the sight of little mousy creature.

That set him off. It spoke in its fluty babble, and the human translated. But his speech was highly accented.

“He says he was going to demand your surrender,” the dark skinned Sith said. “But now he’s going to take your head, Zabrak.”

The midget flung himself at the bounty hunters, swinging his personally sized lightsaber. Katarn didn’t flinch. He simply punted the rascal away. In response, the Chadra-fan lifted his hand and started choking the bounty hunter.

Katarn gargled, “A little help?”

Shazzar sighed. “Put him down, little guy, or a blaster bolt will blow your furry head off.”

The creature snarled and gripped Katarn tighter. As Shazzar pulled out a pair of pistols, the other Sith started to make a move. The Phantom and Falkko were prepared to respond.

A voice commanded from behind the Sith, “Enough of this recklessness!” It was Toxeti. The other Sith heeded him. The Sith Lord pointed to the bounty hunters. “Bring them to the bridge. There’s no need for more violence, I’m sure an agreement could be reached.”

“Sorry, but nobody’s taking me anywhere,” the Phantom growled.

Katarn gasped for air after the Chadra-fan had released him. “What sort of agreement?” he asked.

“You’re men for hire,” Toxeti said, his voice was distorted by his mask, but a smile could be detected in his tone. “I’ll pay more than what Viruul is, perhaps even double. If you’ll quit this pointless job – and work for me.”

“We’ve already come this far,” Falkko retorted. “Why shouldn’t we just finish?”

“Because you’re at my mercy now, Anzati,” the Sith Lord stated. “Even should you best my warriors here, you’re still no match for a master of the Dark Side.”

“That’s what they all say,” the Phantom replied.

“Perhaps,” Toxeti lifted his hand. “Are you so sure we can’t be civil?”

“People only ask that when they’ve been beaten,” Shazzar said, looking at Falkko out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t break deals easily, Toxeti, and certainly not with a Dark Lord from the Council.”

“Your fear is wrongly placed,” Toxeti mused. “You’ve one of the tens of billions that are still lost in darkness – slaves of the Emperor’s whim. The galaxy is blinded by that relic and his puppets, but I shall make all see. Including you.”

He extended his fingers towards the bounty hunters, and all four of them cringed involuntarily at once.

Pressure squeezed on their skulls. Images of fear and pain flooded their mind, heat flared in their nerves, screeching ripped at their ears, their bodies screamed in some unseen agony.

Katarn grabbed at his horns, pulling on them as one does hair. “No… No! NO!” he wailed. “I’m not a failure! I’m the greatest hunter…” he started moaning. “I’m nothing! I am nothing!”

Dropping to the metal ground with a thud, he joined the Phantom, who writhed on the floor. The giant’s arms remained in place, as though shackles fettered them down. He roared like a beast in pain.

“Stop it!” He bellowed. “I am not an animal! I am a person! You can’t do this! You can’t! What gives you the right to twist life! What gives you the right? …Raaawwrrrr!” In his mind flashed the sensations and pains of his memory. His skin beneath his armor felt like it had then, electricity and foreign fluids pumping through his body, blades cutting into his skin; stimulants injected, wearing off, and then injected in higher doses.

Shazzar seized his ears, trying to block out the sound, but to no avail. Before his eyes he saw the scene of his father’s murder flash repeatedly like a damaged holovid. Each time as terrible as the reality. Then he saw his wife. She was in pain, she was screaming, crying out his name. The fear in her eyes was heart wrenching, something he had never hoped to see. “What’s going on?” he rasped with a suddenly weak voice. He tried to put up his mental barriers, but they were simply swept aside. “Vaala, no!” he cried.

Like the others, Falkko trembled in pain too, but he didn’t see what they saw, nor feel what they felt. He saw only Toxeti, and he heard his voice in his thoughts.

“You are not like these others,” the Sith said. “You are gifted, you have potential.”

“Get out of my mind!” Falkko shouted uselessly.

“Your struggling will do you no good. A single thought and I can crush you…But you are strong, I sense the untapped power in you. You could become greater than anything you’ve ever supposed.”

“I won’t become one of your slaves!”

Toxeti’s laughter was frightening. “Slaves? Do you think the Sith will give you a choice when they learn your potential? They will break you, with or without your consent. Your only protection was the asylum. Now they will take you, and you will be their soulless puppet. But I can free you, like I’ve freed others. I will free the galaxy from the oppression of the Emperor! Join me, and you can forge your own destiny!”

The ceaseless speeches, the charisma, and the power of Toxeti’s voice was finding his weak points and applying the pressure to shatter Falkko’s already twisted mind. The hunger – the endless, insatiable hunger – and the starvation in the asylum…Falkko’s proboscises unconsciously emerged and writhed like enraged serpents as his body felt like it was burning. He was reaching the precipice and his strength was failing, just like the rest of them.

The Star Destroyer was a bustle with sirens, fires, a crew in chaos, and four tortured men at the mercy of the ship’s commander. All aspects were unaware of the shadow that loomed closer until it was right on top of them.

A red circle appeared suddenly at the end of the corridor, around one of the airlock doors. Toxeti broke his concentration to regard the intrusion, letting the bounty hunters mercifully fall limp to the ground.

The door burst forth, hurtling like a missile at the group. Toxeti and his warriors got out of the way, except for the snarling, furry imp. The Chadra-fan was crushed beneath the mass of metal.

Where the door once was, blackness filled the opening. Not the dark of space or smoke, but a horrible nether – like a black hole. The only object was the white face, like a skull with bloody tears, and a pair of burning, fiery eyes. From the darkness, the wraith floated into the corridor, bring the darkness with it. Flanking the specter, in an eternal state of cringing behind their master, were a red-cloaked man and an alien in dark gray armor. They seemed so pathetically insignificant that arguably no one heeded them.

The wraith spoke with a voice of pure malice. “And now the hunt has reached its end, and the beast is flushed out. The rebel’s banner is captured, the infestation’s hive is uncovered.” A blood-red blade ignited in Viruul’s hand. “Toxeti,” he hissed.

Toxeti forgot about the meaningless bounty hunters on the floor. A flush of fear gripped him to face the man who hated and hunted him, but he composed himself. He pointed at the new enemy, commanding his warriors. “Slay the butcher! Strike at the Empire’s heart!”

His servants were immediate to obey. Sabers in hand, they charged the Dark Lord as their master slipped away through the hall.

Viruul roared, “Coward! The end is inevitable!” He then lifted his lightsaber to meet the oncoming attacks. The Devaronian swung at his left side, and directly following, the human attacked from the right. Viruul’s reflexes were in proper shape, however, and he blocked the first and the second in quick succession.

The pair attacked again, right blow to the shoulder, attack to the left leg…They each tried to attack quickly enough after the other to keep Viruul’s focus divided on both, so that he could not focus himself on one alone. Despite his skill, Viruul was facing strain on muscle and mind with the attacks from the two Sith. He needed to divide them.

Lifting his leg in an elegant spin, Viruul kicked the dark human’s chin, knocking him back enough paces. He then was able to devote himself to the horned alien.

Their sabers clashed below their chest, then parted to meet again above their heads. Three more crashing, the blades crackling against each other. But the human was returning, and Viruul needed to see to him.

Pushing the devil back, Viruul made a sweep that would decapitate his opponent. The Devaronian ducked, but not quite in time. His horns were sliced off in a flash, and the blow hit low enough to reach nerves. The alien howled and lost concentration for a fatal second. Viruul’s blade slashed back from the other direction across his chest. His armor offered him no useful protection.

Viruul had finished him just in time to meet the other man’s blade. Rage emanated from the man’s eyes, and his mouth was frowning with extreme effort. Viruul minimally shook his head. Too much energy going to his anger, he thought. Not enough to his focus.

Blades locked, they arced their arms upward. The sabers slashed at the walls and ceiling, sparks flew from the collateral damage. First they went one way, favoring Viruul, then his opponent exerted his strength to push the blades the other. Viruul looked directly into the man’s face and studied his opponent. He was like all the others he had seen – dupes of Toxeti, his zealous followers…traitors.

Viruul pulled a sudden back flip, and kicked the man’s chin again. It didn’t do as much to disrupt the man’s focus as before, but that wasn’t the point. Viruul landed a few meters away, and his opponent was directly in his line of sight with the open lift chute.

Lifting his hand, Viruul set a burst of the Force follow, striking the man and hurling him back. The man’s dreadlocks flailed like a Nautolan’s tentacles in the wind. Landing on the ground, the Sith stopped just before his shoulders passed the door. He was about to flip himself to his fleet when Viruul grabbed the doors with the Force and willed them shut.

The dark man’s body stopped short, twitched, and then the limbs fell still. Viruul looked away from the grisly scene, not desiring to see such an unclean decapitation.

Viruul turned to his fellows who stood still, having not moved since he had begun his fight. He walked briskly up to them and slapped them both on the cheek with one swipe of his hand.

“Useless fools!” he snarled. “Couldn’t even make yourself useful, could you?”

“There was no room for us both to join you, my lord,” Zelos responded, resisting the urge to grab his cheek.

“No, but you didn’t think to see to the bounty hunters, did you?” Viruul countered.

“Would it not be better to let them die?” Tiburon asked. “Then you would have no need to pay them for their services.”

“Money is not an issue for me,” Viruul said, turning to walk to the bounty hunters. “What kind of reputation would form if I killed anyone I hired? What would others think of me? Do you suppose that any other bounty hunters would want to work for me if I simply killed them after their services were complete?”

“No, I suppose they wouldn’t,” Tiburon replied.

“Consequences,” Viruul stated. “You must look into matters like this with foresight.”

“I see, my lord,” the Twi’lek bowed his head.

Viruul sighed and knelt next to the bounty hunters. “What sort of devilry has Toxeti bewitched you with? Mind meddling? I sense it is more severe than that…Ah, I see the embers of the diminished fires of your lives. Toxeti came close to leaving you dead – or insane. I suppose my timing was impeccable. Now let’s see, this shouldn’t be too difficult…”

With a touch of his hand upon each of their temples, Viruul restored the bounty hunters’ consciousness and vitality. It was no immense task, for all he needed to do was guide their life back into their forms and kindle the flames again. He had done this many times, and many times in the opposite direction.

“Lord Viruul?” Shazzar groaned, rubbing his head. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“You’ve done well, my bounty hunter friends,” Viruul rose and stepped back. “The end of Toxeti’s rebellion draws near. Come, you will bear witness to the results of your labor and the justice of the Empire.”

“Are you saying you want witnesses?” Katarn asked. “Or backup?”

Viruul smiled slightly as he started walking. “Both,” he said. He stalked his way through the corridors, navigating perfectly well, as he knew the basic paths through a Star Destroyer as common knowledge. The same could not be said for many of his peers on the Council.

With his entourage in tow, he made excellent time reaching the bridge through the unconventional means. The turbolifts were still off-line from the explosion, but Viruul’s manipulations with the Force – and the Phantom’s abilities to plug into the systems – made short work of any barriers and malfunctioning utilities.

All life on the ship – organic or artificial – seemed to keep a vast distance between the Dark Lord and his party. To Shazzar’s eyes, it appeared as though the walls themselves tried to extend and get away from him. But this was but an optical illusion from the power seething in the Sith Lord manifesting itself.

At last they reached the bridge. Like before, it was locked down tight. Shazzar moved to do the same as he had done before, but Viruul’s hand bid him stop.

“If you don’t mind, Shazzar, I’ll be the first one to greet the host.”

Shazzar stepped back. “Well, if you insist, Lord Viruul.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Viruul stepped up to the door.

Time appeared to slow to a near stop on both sides of the entrance as the crimson blade sliced through the door. Viruul wasn’t rushing his work.

At last he made it through, and the bounty hunters had their weapons in hand. Viruul waited a moment to take in a breath, and then he felt the power flow from him to the door, and the metal door was carried away in the burst.

There was a crashing and shouting as the door slammed against man and console. Electric hissing and smoke rose to silence them. The Sith Lord and his companions entered slowly. In the bridge, there were a dozen soldiers, four war droids, the crewmen of the command deck, and behind them all, Toxeti.

“Still hiding behind your servants, I see,” Viruul sneered.

“I will not waste words with you,” the rogue Sith replied. “Kill them all!” his shout caused the immediate response of the entire force opening fire. A barrage of blaster bolts assailed the invaders.

Viruul’s blade was ignited in a flash, and he deflected all shots that came near him. His Sith counterparts did the same. The bounty hunters, on the other hand, had to scramble for cover once again in order to return fire. Each of them took careful aim, gunning down all the guards they could target.

Katarn’s pistol was fast and deadly, firing each blast in quick succession. Three men went down, and a droid too. But then, the gun overheated, and he had to remain hidden for a while. He watched the others take on their own guards – who didn’t stand a chance against the bounty hunters. These soldiers might be proficient in fighting in the field, but none of that sort of training mattered against men who weren’t too proud to fight dirty.

A console exploded and someone rolled right up to Katarn’s side. He looked over and saw it was Falkko. Being so close to the Anzati was making his skin crawl.

Falkko noticed his facial expression. “Does my proximity disturb you?” he asked coolly.

“No, no,” Katarn denied, checking his blaster. “Not at all. I just thought you might have been hit. If you were, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to help you.”

The Anzati smiled without humor. “Thanks for the concern,” he said.

“Anytime,” Katarn replied, smiling that his gun had finally cooled down. He emerged from his cover once again to continue firing. A blaster bolt singed his arm. Not from ahead, but from behind.

Turning, he noticed that reinforcements had arrived through the doorway. More soldiers and droids. They were suddenly caught in a crossfire.

Before Katarn could swear again, he heard Shazzar shout, “Get down!” A small sphere bounced towards the newcomers. Everyone realized what it was too late. There was an immense flash and the ground shook. A concussion grenade. When the flash dispersed, most of the reinforcements had been stunned and knocked aside. Two had been killed in the explosion.

“Pick ‘em off!” Katarn grinned, firing his blaster at the helpless soldiers. The Phantom had already made his way over, and started dicing up the guards with his blade. It was far from a pleasant scene, and Katarn felt his stomach become knotted at the new coat of red paint being applied to the walls and floor.

“Even I’m not that grotesque,” Falkko muttered under his breath.

“I didn’t expect you to have any sort of limits or class,” Katarn growled.

Falkko ignored his comment. “Such a waste,” he shook his head. “They’d make a fine feast, if you all weren’t so short-sighted.”

Katarn’s face was starting to hurt from his look of disgust. “I’m just going to look away, keep fighting, and think happy thoughts,” he whispered to himself. It was apparent Shazzar was following the same idea.

Viruul ignored the insignificant fighting around him, and the blaster bolts that passed harmlessly away from him. He walked forward through the bridge without any thought save for the man straight ahead of him. He paid no heed to his followers trailing behind him.

He stopped a few meters away, his blade humming like the sigh of death itself. He glared intensely at Toxeti, who stood firm and still.

The rogue Sith’s features betrayed nothing. His face was covered by the mask; the plumage behind it was calm. The long cloak was hanging around him, remaining frozen. Viruul had expected some quivering, but it appeared that Toxeti had prepared himself. Yet he could feel the slight twinges of fear in his mind. Nothing, even the smallest hint of unease, could escape the Dark Lord’s notice.

“Now it comes to an end,” Viruul mused.

“Your victory is not assured,” Toxeti answered in a tone of defiance. “You have hid behind your inquisition, slaughtering safely in Kaas City, letting hounds seek out your enemies for you. Yet you have not faced your foes in true battle.”

“Now is the time to correct that,” Viruul said calmly.

Toxeti’s blade flew to his gloved hands. It ignited with a brilliant violet glow, and it did not hum in a synthetic tone. It sang with an intense shrilling. He held it out straight ahead, towards his opponent.

“Curious blade,” Viruul stated. “I see that you have forsaken entirely the path of the Sith…in favor of your own fashion and folly.”

“I have rejected the blind guidance of the Dark Council, Viruul,” Toxeti responded. “And the Empire will reel and shatter when it learns that my blade has claimed one of their masters.”

“Do not claim victory before you have been proven,” the Dark Lord spun his saber around in his hand. The bright stars in his skull mask’s eye sockets started to burn red.

Viruul leaped forward, his blade swinging wide. The lightsaber clashed against Toxeti’s, but they soon parted to crash again at a different angle. Viruul took the immediate offensive, slashing at his left, then the right, and then above the head. Each blow was blocked, and then Toxeti countered by stabbing forward at Viruul’s gut. Jumping back, Viruul then pushed Toxeti’s saber away with his own, and made a swing towards his opponent’s legs.

Toxeti was quick to respond, catching Viruul’s saber against his own, just centimeters from his left shin. He then forced their blades upward, and kicked Viruul in the lower abdomen. Viruul’s black form sagged backwards, trying to catch himself from losing his footing. Toxeti pursued, slashing at Viruul’s shoulder.

Stopping the blade barely in time, Viruul mustered his strength and shoved his elbow into Toxeti’s helmeted face. He quickly followed it up by jumping up, kicking Toxeti in the midst of an aerial flip backwards.

However, the moment Viruul planted his feet to the ground, Toxeti sent him sprawling with a Force push. He rolled twice on the ground and then rose up just in time as Toxeti’s leaping form stabbed the ground where he had been less than a second ago.

Toxeti removed his blade from the floor and crashed his blade against Viruul’s. He then punched his opponent’s face with his opposite hand. Viruul dropped himself to the ground, spinning to knock Toxeti’s legs out from under him.

Merely back flipping out of harm’s way, Toxeti came at him again. Now he had taken the offensive. He met his blade upon Viruul’s four times, and then spun around to strengthen his fifth attack with more momentum. Their blades were locked; neither was willing to give ground.

In a whir, Toxeti leaped over Viruul. The Dark Lord was blinded by Toxeti’s immense cloak. Viruul took three steps away, to allow himself enough time to turn and face Toxeti again.

Once more, Toxeti charged forward. Each assault was blocked, countered, and blocked again. They continued for several minutes, and neither of them had broken a sweat yet.

Suddenly, Viruul found himself backed against a console. He grabbed it with one hand, steadying himself, as his other held fast against the pressure of Toxeti’s blade. Viruul then pushed himself off the console, smashing his shoulder into Toxeti’s chest. The armored Sith backed up, recoiling from the blow. There was a brief moment where they remained still, studying each other.

Viruul ended the moment, leaping at his opponent once again. His red blade hissed and crackled against the violet saber of Toxeti. The whirs of light flashed between the two intense colors, and their blades sung as they twirled and clashed. The scent of ozone grew strong.

Toxeti saw an opening appear in Viruul’s form, and he took the opportunity to swat him away. The black robed Sith was knocked against a holoprojector. Slashing downwards, Toxeti was about to cut his enemy in half. But Viruul picked up his legs and kicked him back, getting himself to his feet in the process. Toxeti crashed through one of the tactical display boards. Amid the shards, he stood to see Viruul’s form speeding towards him.

Knowing the functions of the bridge well, Toxeti ruptured a conduit that held the computer coolant. With the Force, he sent the acidic fluid at Viruul’s face. It struck him, causing the Dark Council member to cry in sudden pain.

Before any serious damage could be allowed to start, Viruul rolled away, ripping the burning liquid particles from his face. His mask had protected his eyes and most of his face, but there would be some painful burns on his chin and cheeks for a while.

Viruul snarled. If that was how Toxeti was going to fight, then he would adapt to the same brutishness.

Tiburon had watched the duel between Viruul and Toxeti with great interest. He had forgotten any sense of doing something himself. Eventually, he brought himself back to his senses. There was no use in joining the fight with Viruul. If anything, he’d simply get in the way. The two didn’t look like they were willing to allow a third man to participate.

Lucky for him, it appeared the soldiers – what little of them remained – were too preoccupied with the bounty hunters to take any real notice to him or Zelos. The two had been left alone to watch the ensuing battle.

Lord Tiburon turned to one of the central command consoles of the bridge. He figured he might as well see what interesting data he might find before the battle destroyed everything. He navigated through the various files, letting the Force guide his mind in bypassing all the security protocols in the system. Something caught his interest. It was Toxeti’s manifesto.

Smiling, Tiburon took a moment to stroke his lekku. Then he reached down with a long, sharp-nailed finger to access the file. “This may be very important,” he mused to himself. Now he would have something to present Viruul to show that he had made himself useful this time.

He had barely opened the file when a red flash zipped to his right. He cried out in alarm and pain. Glancing down, he found with horror a cauterized stump where his hand had been. Tiburon whirled around, shocked, to see Zelos with his blade ignited and ready to take off his head.

“What?” Tiburon croaked.

“Don’t make me kill you, I actually liked you,” Zelos said. “Join Toxeti and end the false rule of the Dark Council!”

Tiburon could barely speak. All he could do was bare his teeth at a perceived threat – and a traitor. “You betrayed us!” he finally uttered.

“Viruul will bring the Empire to ruin!” Zelos shouted. “If you won’t join us, then I won’t allow you the chance to stand in our way!” He swung the saber.

The Twi’lek was barely able to push himself away with the Force. He slammed to the ground, gasping. Instead of taking his head, the saber had cut along his chest.

Rage built in him, rage at being betrayed and attacked. Tiburon stood, reaching out with his mind, and grabbed hold of a console. He ripped it from where it stood and prepared to launch it at his former colleague. But before he could do so, he felt as though icy fingers had seized his throat and started to throttle him.

Zelos’ hand was raised, the fingers clenching closer towards each other. Tiburon could only struggle for breath and hopelessly raise his fingers to his neck. The station he had lifted dropped with a loud crash to the floor. The echo was intense, as the fighting had ceased. The bounty hunters had finished the guards.

Tiburon’s vision was starting to go blurry. His strength was failing and he felt his body writhe in the lack of air. He couldn’t understand how he was bested by Zelos. Of the two, Tiburon was sure he was the stronger. He was an instructor at the academy on Korriban. Zelos had simply been hidden away in books. It didn’t seem possible, yet, he could not break Zelos’ hold, and the life was draining out of him.

There was a bright flash. Tiburon senses were failing so heard nothing – but he felt the wave of heat through the air. The grip on him was released and he fell to the ground, his consciousness fading away. He saw Zelos on the ground, gripping a massive, charred hole in his stomach.

The bounty hunter with the hidden, clothbound face stood a little ways off. Smoke rose from his rifle.

Then Tiburon’s sight went dark and he could remember no more.

Viruul and Toxeti continued their dance with sabers. But their duel had doubled many times over in intensity. The crashes of blades were mingled with the crashing of one’s fist or foot crashing against the other’s body. Such brawling got them nowhere, for the power of the Dark Side was coursing through the both of them, and they felt no pain from physical blows.

Viruul made a swift slash at Toxeti’s head, but his opponent was too quick and all he did was trim the plumage on Toxeti’s mask.

Toxeti then responded by spinning around twice, slashing at Viruul each time he came around. He was so quick that Viruul only had time to block each blow, and was unable to mount any sort of counter.

Viruul leaped backwards, landing behind yet another console. His footing nearly slipped off the corpse of a crewman he had landed on. But he compensated by merely stepping off soon enough that it made no difference.

But the barrier between them availed Viruul no cover. For Toxeti sent forward a massive blast through the Force, which ripped up the console and crashed it into Viruul’s torso. Pinned beneath it, Viruul saw Toxeti come forward, spinning his blade and preparing to stab into Viruul’s neck. But the Dark Lord was not about to give up so easily. He focused the Force and hurled the computer off of him and back at Toxeti.

Toxeti knocked the console away, sending it crashing onto the floor. Viruul had risen to his feet and activated his lightsaber again. The red glow was hot, and it seemed a manifestation of his rage.

Viruul made a lunge forward, but his blade was amply blocked by Toxeti’s saber. He withdrew and made an overhead swing, which also was stopped. Toxeti counterattacked with a swift succession of three slashes at Viruul’s arm, knee, and neck respectively. Viruul was able to block the arm and knee attacks, but he had to duck to avoid being decapitated.

From down below, Viruul shoved Toxeti away through a Force wave. The rogue Sith’s cloak whipped Viruul’s face as Toxeti flew back through the air, landing with such momentum that he rolled backwards twice. Viruul stood to his full stature, watching as Toxeti picked himself up.

“I must admit you’ve fought well,” Toxeti groaned. “Much better than I thought a clown from the Dark Council would handle himself.”

“You are blind,” Viruul took a step forward. “I am the greatest of the Council!”

“If that is so,” Toxeti chuckled, “then you fools are weaker than even I had supposed. You have no place to rule the Empire.”

“Foolish words from a pathetic traitor,” Viruul snarled. “Now face the wrath of the Dark Council!” He lifted his left hand and released a storm of lightning from his fingertips. Dark energy flooded from within him to burst as electricity from his hand.

Lightning erupted from Toxeti’s own hand, and the bolts of energy smashed into each other like two massive tidal waves. Stray currents of energy were knocked out of the junction and exploded on the walls, consoles, and floor of the bridge. The torrents pushed and battered one another, trying to break through and strike the other’s master.

Viruul took steps forward, trying to focus and intensify his power. His enemy did the same, until they had bridged the distance between them. The blue and white flashes blinded their view and illuminated their forms. The strain became immense, like they were each trying to hold back an avalanche. They exerted more of their power into their energy; the currents started to wrap around each other and combine into a massive vortex.

Both of them roared in stress, fatigue, and rage. The lightning formed into an immense sphere between them, inside was a hurricane of energy. Suddenly, the sphere shrunk to the size of an atom, with vacuum left to fill the gap. And then, after that brief millisecond, the power was unleashed in a massive explosion.

Like the detonation of a supernova, the room was filled with an incomprehensible shockwave that launched the two Sith Lords into the air like leaves in a wind gust. The bounty hunters were hurled to the walls. Everything in the bridge was leveled. Event he windows could not withstand the blast and shattered. The howling of air being sucked into space was deafening.

But before anyone was lost to the blackness of space, the emergency blinders sealed up the bridge. Silence ensued – at least for a brief moment.

“Holy fierfek!” came a familiar, cursing voice of Katarn. He groaned in pain and exhaustion. The blast had left him – and the others – bereft of energy and strength. Such could easily be expected from being dashed against a wall so carelessly.

Viruul rose to his feet. He inspected the ravaged command bridge. Hardly anything was left standing. He saw a flickering light, the strongest one still shining. Kneeling down to inspect it, he saw it was one of the damaged central computers. Incredibly, it was still barely functioning. Well, perhaps that was an overstatement.

He attempted to discern what it was. It was open to a particular file, but the damage was so extensive there was nothing to be done. It could not be read and it could not be changed. For all intents and purposes, it was scrap. But what Viruul could read about it caught his interest.

“Toxeti’s manifesto?” Viruul said aloud. He smiled. “Well, it doesn’t appear there would be a second file of something like this…And it’s too badly damaged to ever be accessed. I suppose his greatest lies will remain unsaid.” He crushed the computer’s corpse with relative ease.

Viruul only had a brief second to notice the lightsaber of Zelos, with its owner nowhere nearby. He heard a loud shout from behind him.

“The truth shall be revealed!” Toxeti flew at him with the speed of a falcon. Viruul called the unclaimed lightsaber and ignited both it and his own in his hands, barely bringing them to bear in order to block the attack.

Toxeti’s helmet was lost and his armor was battered. His pale face bared teeth, and his dark eyes burned with hatred. Viruul felt a shiver of repulsion squirm through his body at the sight. Was it repulsion, though, or intimidation?

He didn’t have time to sort that out. Toxeti was on a savage offensive, swinging to the left, then the right, and then a leap into the air with a flurry of attacks. Viruul spun the pair of blades to keep up with the assault, one saber blocking a blow, and then the other.

Viruul could sense the exhaustion and desperation in Toxeti’s mind and movements. Normally, he would have fully exploited them, but he too was grappling with his own loss of strength.

Toxeti locked his saber with Viruul’s left blade. But before Viruul could swing down his right saber, Toxeti twirled to the side, cutting the handle of the saber he was currently engaged in.

Viruul barely got his fingers away in time as Toxeti destroyed the borrowed saber. He had lost the valuable advantage of a second weapon, but he would manage.

The attacks grew more intense, and Viruul was hard-pressed to defend against them all. His defense faltered for a few horrible moments, allowing Toxeti to cut his arm, slice through his cloth, and even slash against his side. Calling upon the strength of the Dark Side, he endured the pain, putting it out of his mind to continue the fight.

Toxeti’s fist slammed into Viruul’s cheek, and he was sent to the ground. The Dark Lord felt blood start dripping from his mouth. His knees were buckling as he tried to get back up. The shadow of his opponent loomed over him.

A cruel grin of hard-won victory grew on Toxeti’s lips. He raised his saber, keeping his eyes on the defeated Sith Lord. His arm swung down with the force of a krayt dragon’s bite. But before the violet blade struck Viruul’s backside, he stopped still. A look of confusion replaced the grin, and then it slowly evolved into shock as he looked down and saw Viruul still facing the ground, both hands on the floor. His unmanned saber was lodged in Toxeti’s abdomen.

His breath became weak and gasping. He dropped his saber; the color was still glowing as it clambered to the floor. Toxeti stood for a moment longer, and then dropped to his knees. As he did, Viruul rose, wiping away the blood from his lips.

“So it ends,” Toxeti whispered. “It ends with the Empire’s fate sealed to an inevitable fall. I fall into darkness, soon to be joined by all the galaxy.”

“Not hardly,” Viruul’s voice was strong and cruel. “You will not die yet, Toxeti. Your punishment must be seen by all the Empire. And only your lies and your blasphemous vision will join you in the abyss.”

Toxeti made no reply, he simply felt himself fading away. He saw Viruul’s hand raise towards him, and then all went the darkest of black.

Lord Viruul stood triumphant over the unconscious form of his enemy. He took a moment to recover his composure and his strength. Then he looked up to the bounty hunters – who were finally rising from their experience.

“Well done, my friends,” Viruul nodded to them. “You have fulfilled your work to the highest degree. I am most impressed.”

“Your servant, Zelos, betrayed you,” Shazzar stated, rubbing his head. “I think he may have killed Lord Tiburon.”

The smile disappeared from Viruul’s face. His eyes turned cold. “Yet he has been taken care of?” he asked hoarsely.

“I put a hole in his chest,” Shazzar replied.

“Wait,” the Phantom said as he studied the two bodies of the Sith. “They’re both still alive…barely.”

The smile returned as Viruul said, “Good. Then we can dole out punishment and rewards accordingly. Phantom, bring Toxeti. Katarn, Shazzar – do be good enough to bring along the others. Leave the dead, for we shall destroy this ship as soon as we board the Apocrypha.

A beeping from a comlink on Viruul’s belt sounded. “My lord?” came Taan’s voice. “We’ve destroyed the enemy fleet, and we’ve disabled the Star Destroyer Nightsword and captured it. What are your orders?”

“Well done, Admiral,” Viruul replied. “Await my return. This battle is done, and the rebellion has been crushed. However, they have a great deal to offer us in their defeat.”

He looked back at the bounty hunters. “Now, I suppose there’s the matter of payment to attend to?”

A great assembly was in the process of being organized. The citizens of Dromund Kaas were gathering, and the event was to be sent galaxy-wide through the Holonet to all the people of the Sith Empire. The Republic would even be able to watch if they wanted.

But that was not until tomorrow. This evening, the Moffs and many of the highest echelons of the Sith Lords were present to a fine dinner to celebrate the fall of a horrible rebellion before it had fully begun.

Viruul had not actually desired such an unnecessary shindig, but he decided it would be best to participate and allow the Empire to throw this party. He was, after all, the guest of honor. Yet, as a member of the Dark Council, he felt uneasy attending such an event, and it was apparent that others were rather uneasy around him. Well, at least it allowed his presence to be better known, and he would be able to build these officials’ support.

Before Viruul arrived, the many guests were busy discussing recent events. Lord Tiburon glanced at the lot. His breathing was weak. He was still adjusting the breathing apparatus that he had been set up with. The wheezing was getting especially tiresome.

He found a familiar figure – Admiral Taan. But he was wearing a different uniform. Instead of black, it was stark white. His eyes were even redder, and his skin was even deeper blue. Tiburon had not thought that was possible. He approached the Admiral, and greeted him.

“I see you’re up on your feet,” Taan stated. “It’s good to see you’re recovering.”

“As well as possible, I’m afraid, Admiral,” Tiburon sighed.

“Actually, it’s Moff Taan,” the Chiss corrected.

“Moff? So quickly? It has only been a few weeks since the battle,” Tiburon’s shock caused him to cough haggardly.

“Lord Viruul has been most gracious,” Taan smiled. “Although many others were upset, they have accepted the promotion.”

“Incredible,” the Twi’lek said. “What else have I missed in my incapacitation? What happened to the bounty hunters? And the rest of Toxeti’s forces?”

“Viruul paid the bounty hunters immensely,” Taan replied. “Imperial operatives were able to access all the funds and accounts Toxeti and his supporters had, and they emptied them. The bounty hunters were paid ten million credits each.”

“Each? Where are they now?”

“Until there’s another job to be done, we won’t know. The Phantom disappeared without a trace, as it would seem is his reputation. Katarn returned to Nar Shaddaa, and to his pleasures. Falkko…I don’t even want to think about such a vile monster.”

“And Shazzar?”

Taan sighed. “He has gone, and it would seem only Viruul knows where. Shazzar made it clear he was not to be disturbed for at least a year. If he was…well, he didn’t have to say anything – Viruul understood.”

“What about Toxeti’s followers? I heard Zelos was still alive, and one of the ships was captured.”

“Yes,” Taan smiled, speaking softly. “Viruul made good use of them. He sent the Star Destroyer crashing into a wing of the Ministry of Intelligence. The surrounding structures were ravaged and thousands perished.”

“What? Why? How?”

“Don’t worry, everything is replaceable. Officially, it was a desperate suicide attack of led by the traitorous Zelos.” Taan lowered his voice further and whispered, “Unofficially, Viruul used it as a rallying measure for his inquisition and exacting punishment for the Intelligence bureau. I guess he was upset they hadn’t done enough in the search for Toxeti…”

It was then that the doors opened and Lord Viruul walked in. All were silent and took their seats at the great banquet table. When all were situated, Viruul smiled and raised a glass.

“I propose a toast to the glorious Empire!” he said.

Everyone cheered and concurred, drinking the fine wine.

“Lord Viruul,” a presumptuous Moff rose a glass. “Should we not also raise a glass to the bounty hunters who nobly fought to aid your bringing down the heretic?”

A dead silence fell. Viruul smiled and broke the awkward and intimidating moment. “Indeed, let us drink to the health of our unofficial allies! May they continue to work for us, and may we continue to have the funds to pay them!”

The guests cheered again and drank. Viruul paused, noticing the famously scarred face of Grand Moff Kilran seated near him.

“Here’s to your health,” Viruul said softly. “You should be sure to take care of it.” He then drank and left the Grand Moff to ponder what he had just said.

Shazzar stood on a balcony, admiring the beauteous landscape of Shili. The sun was setting, the stars were emerging, and the sounds of the wildlife rose like a mist over the forests. He smiled, wondering why he hadn’t planned a trip here sooner?

A soft hand touched his shoulder. He turned to smile at Vaala, who was already grinning at him.

The dyes painted on his skin and in his hair had been reapplied. There was no outward sign that he had been on one of the most grueling jobs he had ever experienced. He was once again undressed, and he enjoyed the cool breeze and the touch of his wife’s hand on his tan skin.

“You’re a very rich man,” Vaala said softly.

“There’s no need to think of that at all,” Shazzar replied. “Nothing I have is barred from you, and no amount of money in the universe could ever come close to my love for you.”

Vaala closed her eyes. “You won’t be going away again, will you?”

Sighing, Shazzar answered, “No. Not for a thankfully long time.”

“In that case,” Vaala placed herself in his arms. “I’m yours.”

“No, not in the slightest,” Shazzar replied, leading her to inside the room to the bed. “I’m all yours – always have been, and I always will be. I will protect you forever, and I will love you for an eternity longer.”

“Then I am the luckiest girl in the galaxy,” Vaala said.

The two lay down, Shazzar’s firm but gentle hand stroked his wife’s brilliant head tails, sending sparks of ecstasy running through both their bodies. “And I am the luckiest man,” Shazzar said lovingly.

They kissed as the sun dropped and the gorgeous night began in full.

The crowds numbered in the millions in the main square of Kaas City, before the great citadel. Shouts of Imperial loyalty and glory rose like a storm, echoing through the capital city. All attention was focused at the main entrance, where the powerful presence of Viruul stood before the throngs, the legions of soldiers, the trim Imperial officials, the rest of the Dark Council, and even a shadowy holographic image that all recognized.

Viruul’s voice rose over the crowd, silencing them. “Once more, the glory of the Sith Empire has been proven! Once more, the enemies of our illustrious civilization have been soundly defeated!” The cheers of the crowd erupted again.

He waited until they calmed again. “Today, I present the broken man who threatened to destroy the Empire from within! His lies had spread to every corner of the galaxy, infecting countless weak citizens into following his will and casting off the rule of the glorious Emperor! Behold!” He pointed as two ornately dressed Imperial guards brought in a form wrapped in an immense cloak. They cast it down at the feet of Viruul, who pulled away the cloth to reveal a skeleton of a man.

“Behold the once proud Toxeti!” Viruul pointed accusingly at the thin, ravaged body of his former foe. “Here is the man who wished to see the Empire burn and rule the ashes that remained!”

The mob’s anger rose in a myriad of shouting, cursing, booing, and howling. Toxeti’s frail arm tried to protect his sensitive eyes from the light and terrible hostility directed at him. He had been deep within the cavernous dungeons of the citadel, tortured and starved for these many weeks.

“This heretic has killed thousands of loyal citizens!” Viruul continued his glamorous speech. “His ships claimed the lives of many valiant men in the fight to defeat him, and his fanatical followers tried to avenge him by crashing a battleship into the heart of the capital – into the Ministry of Intelligence itself!”

The roaring became near hysterical, and it would seem that the mob would turn to violence. Viruul’s hands rose to calm them once again. “But fear this man no more! He can do no more harm to the Empire and its people. I have broken him! I have defeated him! And I now kill this man for the glory of the Emperor!”

Toxeti rose into the air, lifted at the command of Viruul’s hand.

“Do you wish to confess your terrorist plots and vile ambitions? Do you wish to denounce your rebellion and once again claim loyalty to your Emperor?” Viruul asked, though not sincerely. “We can end you torment! I can release you, and you will not die a fully hated man by the Empire!”

Toxeti’s eyes flared with a flash of defiance. “Never!” he rasped. “I would rather see Dromund Kaas’ towers collapsing and burning before I denounce the truth. I would see the monuments of Korriban turn to dust before I submit to the stupidity of the Emperor and his puppets like you, Viruul.”

Another word, and the people would have stormed the citadel to kill Toxeti themselves. They would not tolerate the traitor’s wish to see the Empire in ruin for his own sake. They would not have a man like Toxeti be a martyr for such inhumane crimes and desires.

Viruul knew this, and he replied, “Then you suffer a worse fate than the Jedi. The Jedi are fools and villains, but they challenge the Empire to make it stronger! You would break the Empire to see your own strength enhanced. You have seen your final failure, Toxeti…Now DIE!” Viruul ignited his lightsaber, pulled the traitor towards him, and ended his forsaken life.

The traitor’s remains dropped to the ground and all but withered into dust. The guards placed the corpse back into the cloak and took it away to be burned. Viruul turned to the silenced crowd. Where once all had been deafened by noise, now they were deafened by silence.

“We have triumphed against this monstrosity…we have emerged stronger for vanquishing this abomination! Now we have shown the galaxy we will not bend to the work of any being that is not our Emperor. No one can challenge the Empire and succeed! I have purged this corruption from you all, and we are all safe and secure from its influence. We are the masters of the galaxy, my people! We are the Sith Empire!”

As the crowd roared in zealous and mindless cheers and applause, the ground shook and the air thundered.

Viruul rose his hands and allowed the infinite waves of approval and glory wash over him and exalt him. He gazed at all the citizens, officers, soldiers, and Sith Lords applauding his address. Imperceptibly, he could see the holographic form nod and clap his hands in approval of his deed. His manipulations had succeeded in gaining the full backing of the Empire…

For that one moment, Lord Viruul of the Dark Council was the most powerful man in the galaxy.