INTERIOR VERSAI TECH – HANGER BAY J-1198
 

    Lance Jade gathered his thoughts carefully as his fingers traced over the handles of his custom made, chromed DL-44 blasters. Jenner had specifically indicated that Lance was allowed to arm himself solely with melee and blaster weapons, no grenades no pulse cannons, no sonic equipment. This didn’t really bother him much though, he had chosen to arm himself with his best weapons, the blasters…his lightsaber clipped along his belt and a little something extra under the left wrist of his long, sleeved VT uniform. Lance’s eyes narrowed a moment, reflecting on the images leading to the moment now, where he stood in almost pitch black hallway of boxes and flickering wall panel lights. The same light configuration that caused Ray to fall to shards plunged into the small of his back…the vibrant image played through Lance’s thoughts as he slide his splayed fingers along the dusty surface of the two twin doors leading into J-1198’s interior.

So it all came down to this one defining moment now, all the bloodshed all the pain, all the agony and all the mystery had come to this single standoff. The perilous hanger bay was the chosen “armageddon” for Lance and Jenner, when the dust settled, Tula would either die as Lance breathed his last breath, or Jenner would fall and his reign of terror would conclude in a hale of gunfire of vibrating ocean blue bladed justice.

Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath Lance stepped away from the twin double doors. Having informed Michael of the location, listening to him in the ear piece, he had already ordered him to re-initiate the door’s control panel, even though the scanner was both full of dust and cracked, his fingerprint swipe soon ended the silence of the room and his thoughts.

Around the tall twin doors, which stood about ten feet tall and spanned about six feet wide on either side, the frame around the door was trapezoid in shape, with a flickering, illuminated line of lights leading from the floor, up around the top of the doors, and slanting at a forty-five degree angle on both sides, then down bending into a vertical plummet into the floor.

With a loud rush of hydraulic air the massive steel guardians parted ways, as Lance stepped into the far south of the massive hanger bay. Lighting inside was equally as dim, but a bit brighter then previously in the hallway. Lance could see as he stepped into the room, glancing downward to the floor beneath his feet the rubbed out letters of “1198” and a peeling caution strip, with yellow and black. To his left and right were identically stacked sections of ship parts, boxes, crates some ammunition and sets of unlit lights, stretching outward into the darkness before him. Lance could feel the dark side inside the room; he could sense that somewhere in the darkness, Jenner was watching with a grin spread across his lips…waiting for his moment to initiate his twisted plan.

As Lance paced further into the hanger bay, he could make out a few distinctions of scanning computer stations and a pair of Imperial shuttles, sitting upon platforms that raised and lowered like that on an aircraft carrier. The one on the right was lowered, while he had to glance upwards about 2 stories up to see the second shuttle high above him. From what he could see by the semi lit contours of the vehicles some of the shuttles looked as if they could function, but pacing further still into the darkness, Lance came upon a line of A-Wings, in grave disrepair. The fighter on his right was at an angle, where the side he could not see had the paneling removed, to expose the mechanical labyrinth inside its shell. The A-Wing on his right had one of the two main side blasters positioned on the far right and the two twin engines on the craft were detached and laid evenly spaced behind the ship, another compute console placed to the upper left corner of a set of construction strips that surrounded the area around the each craft.

As Lance’s eyes wander over the darkened confines of the bay, he can also see that about 10 feet from him, beyond another set of twin open spaces, are a pair of X-Wings. Both ships also seem in good condition except that the frames along the nose cones, extending the canopy are removed. Beyond that barely discernable region, there is nothing but darkness.

Suddenly the lights running from the very north end of the hanger bay along the floor, all they way back to the entrance erupt in a dazzling pathway of white. The lights are placed into the floor itself as an illuminated path for the ships to follow, through the now visible massive twin hanger bay doors to the farthest north of Lance. At present the massive doors more then double the size of the entrance Lance paced through remain closed, but his attention is soon shifted to a chair, lit by a swiftly emergent spotlight from above.

There in the chair, not tied but slumped over…is Tula An.

LANCE – (gasps) Tula? Tula is that you?

Tula’s eyes are closed and her arms dangle along the sides of a crude office chair from one of the many offices in VT. Lance glares around the room sensing a trap, trying to locate Jenner from his force signature but finding his eyes sympathizing with Tula’s current state a great distraction to his task. Whether by emotion or by instinct, Lance rushes towards Tula and stares into her very narrowed, very glazed over eyes.

His display of emotion is suddenly interrupted in a illuminated trail of crimson brilliance as Lance is caught in the grip of Jenner’s intense force lightning, sending him toppling backwards to a pile of boxes to his right, grasping to stand back to his feet. Lance sees Jenner standing behind her, a few feet from his location as the lightning ceases, now with his arms along his sides, palms behind his back, eyes upturned as his black hair spirals along his shoulders.

JENNER – (grins) Ah, ah, ah President Jade there are rules…No touching.

Lance swallows hard for a moment, dazed and wide eyed from the sudden shock to his system, dusting off his uniform for a moment, staggering to his feet, locking his blue eyes dead on with Jenner’s arched, sinister eyes.

Jenner slowly cranes his eyes towards Tula in the chair, lifting his hand in a raising gesture, two fingers extended and unified while the others curl back in a “force” summoning manner. As his hand moves, Tula’s body is levitated from the chair carrying through the air, up two the two story, raised platform where there is no shuttle like the rest, only the cold, dusty surface of the landing pad. Jenner grins in glee as he gently sets her on the floor above, watching her body spill outward, limp and still before returning his gaze down to Lance…who clenches his fist in anger, exchanging an icy stare to Jenner’s actions.

JENNER – Did you really think after all of my meticulous planning I was just going to let you walk out of here with the girl? Don’t you know that in the classic fairy tales the valiant Prince can only marry the bride after he has FOUGHT for his happy ending.

LANCE – (nods) You forgot the part where the villain falls off the cliff…

JENNER – (grins) Oh I’m sure we’ll get to that Lance, in the interim just be glad I haven’t ripped her pretty lil face off.

Lances fingers steady along is DL-44s, as he watches Jenner’s movements, drawing the force into his body, enhancing his quick draw skills, waiting for the right moment but the second he begins to draw the weapon on his left, Jenner flashes his eyes wide and holds out his finger, pointing sharply.

JENNER – DON’T EVEN INSULT ME LANCE! YOU WILL WAIT…until I’m finished.

Lance growls under his breath, but relents as he slides his arms across his chest and nods slowly, standing with both feet together, as if it was a board meeting.

LANCE – (calm) Fine then…continue.

Jenner smiles brightly, sliding his left right hand forward producing a tiny vial of shiny red liquid, not as dense as blood. The vial is hexagonal in shape and looks more like a crystal gem then a actual storage container. Along the top is a silver pattern of Killian hieroglyphics. Lance figures out all to well what the item for the moment, more precious then an Tumarian pressure ruby is.

JENNER – Oh I know you have the intelligence level to comprehend what this lil gem is. It’s your precious Princess’s cure to the virus that weaves through her innocent lil body. Here is the deal Lance, you and I…one on one, winner take all. If I win you BOTH die and my mission is complete, if you win you get the girl and save the day.

LANCE – Fine with me…I wouldn’t have it any other way.

JENNER – (grins) This isn’t your typical set up, believe me. You may make the first move, then we’ll go from there…if you attempt to summon your friends, ambush me, or in any way violate the terms of the duel, I will not hesitate in removing her head from her shoulders, and letting you cradle her lifeless remains.

LANCE – (nods) Agreed…

JENNER – (smiles brightly) Ah yes! It’s the kind of set up any good writer would kill to produce! The dashing hero Lance Jade, fighting the evil Lord Jenner over the safety and vindication of his beloved Tula An! Perhaps then this time…the bad guy can win.

LANCE – (smirks) Doubtful…

Lance, having heard enough of Jenner’s philosophical views evokes his stored force energy used during Jenner’s speech to quickly draw his first DL-44 blaster from its holster in lighting fast manner, squeezing the trigger as six bolts of crimson red erupt from the muzzle like deadly rain, racing towards their target.

JENNER – (cold, low) Predictable…

Jenner drops his smile and in blazon speed draws his lightsaber, extending the crimson red blade, quickly parrying the blaster shots as Lance moves across to the right side of the room trying to get a shot in, finding that Jenner’s Form K tactics easily deflects the blaster bolts, knowing that even though Lance isn’t the most proficient with a lightsaber he’ll have to pull out all the stops and time is running out.

Lance unclips his lightsaber and extends the vibrant ocean blue blade, whipping his body away from his own shots parried at him from Jenner’s defensive swings. Lance can see the sparks explode from damaged machinery caught in the crossfire, and sections of the walls feel the intense bite of packets of energy ripping into it. Quickly dashing back to the left, Lance sees that Jenner has not moved from his spot…Lance couldn’t understand why Jenner was blatantly standing there, then he discovered the reason. Jenner was guarding something…

Lance’s eyes roamed along a row of boxes to the far right of Jenner and he spotted the multi ribbed nutrient frames of the ysalamiri Michael had placed in the room. Lance tried to force his way over towards the direction of the boxes and this time Jenner did move partially to parry a sideward arch of Lance’s shimmering ocean blue lightsaber against Jenner’s crimson red blade. Jenner waited for Lance to spin around and send another opposing strike from the opposite direction, timing his actions to send a brutal, two handed uppercut along Lance’s blade, crashing with a flash of white brilliance from the impact, causing Lance to struggle to maintain a hold on his saber, but in the end he loses it and the blade hurls into the air as it extinguishes. Jenner glances to Lance and stretches his hand upwards, catching Lance’s lightsaber in it, while he holds his red blade in the other.

Lance seeing that he’s been unarmed, reaches for his blaster and points towards Jenner’s face, squeezing the trigger. The space between them is so narrow, that Jenner is forced to move, but instead he uses the dark side to force push Lance backward, across the floor as he clutches his blaster in his hand.

JENNER – (glancing to Lance’s saber) You think you can fight me with this? Don’t be ridiculous!

Lance doesn’t reply as he quickly rolls into a ball and back to his feet, once again taking aim on Jenner firing a volley of crimson hellfire. Jenner suddenly ignites Lance’s own lightsaber, washing his face in hues of ocean blue on the right and red on his left, using two blades at once. With the dark side fueling his actions, Jenner spreads his arms forward, then twirls both the blades in mid air, releasing his grip so they both spin on their axis, a trick directly stolen from Val’s own play book, creating two twin discuses of light, moving them back and forth vertically in front of him, as Lance’s shots careen off the twin colored shields.

JENNER – My lightsaber skills are superior in every way to your primitive swats. When I was given the assignment to destroy you and Val’s precious company I relished the chance to come face to face with a real master of the blade…you are a disappointment.

Lance flips out of the way of his own shots, once again turned against him, seeing that there is no way to get through Jenner’s spinning barriers, trying his best to avoid the electrical sparks erupting around him like fireworks, singing his suit.

LANCE – IF YOU READ YOUR FILES WELL ENOUGH JENNER! YOU’D HAVE LEARNED I DON’T DEPEND ON THE BLADE! FACE ME IN A STRAIGHT UP GUNFIGHT I’LL POLISH THE FLOOR WITH YOU!

Jenner grins broadly and as if the lightsabers were his servants, gestures with his fingers, sending the twin energy discuses after his prey like two laser guided saw blades. If Lance was not adept in force defenses he would surely have lost the duel this early in the game, weaving back and forth out of the path of Jenner’s controlled ocean blue and crimson red fury, leaping into a series of back flips and 180 spins, as the sabers cleaved through anything in their path, unrestricted. They traveled clean through crates and boxes like they were paper, the room was illuminated in molten metal hues of fire as spare ship parts, and even the portions of the craft in the room were torn through, cleaved in sections caught in paths from the spiraling buzz of radiant light shearing, melting, and whipping clear through their bodies of metal, racing after Lance’s carefully timed defenses.

LANCE – YOU CAN’T KEEP THIS UP FOREVER JENNER!

Jenner raises an eyebrow, knowing that such manipulation of the force was indeed taxing to even the most skilled of force masters, calling the twin blades back to his hands, stopping them dead in mid air as the blades retracted. Clipping his saber to his hips, Jenner reaches through his Killian issue robes and withdraws his own sidearm, a modified sporting blaster similar to that of which Leia used.

JENNER – (sighs) You know, you’re right…I’m never going to know how good I am until I defeat you on your own level…you say you’re the best gunslinger in this room and you’ll “polish the floor” with me, then put your money where your mouth is Mr. President. On the count of three we’ll draw.

Lance raises an eyebrow, panting as he catches his breath…his body already starting to exhaust from the intense workout. Seeing that Jenner has his lightsaber currently, and Jenner has for the moment left himself wide open…Lance has little choice but to comply with Jenner’s demand and presently, Jenner was allowing him to get his breath back…and prep his weapon.

Keeping his eyes locked on Jenner, who returned to the same position he was in earlier, Lance slid his fingers along his blaster held along his left side, finger on the trigger assuming a completely facing stance, slightly arched with his arm bent into position to draw his weapon. Jenner held his blaster along his thigh, in a right-handed grip, while his left hand draped along his side, facing Lance in the same manner.

LANCE –  (shouts) STOP! WAIT A MINUTE!

JENNER – (grins) Not as confident as you think are you?

LANCE – No…it isn’t that, how do I know I can trust you won’t force block my shot if it hits you.

JENNER – (smiles) Why President Jade have you no faith? Very well…I give you my word as a gentleman I will not move from this spot, nor will I block your shot…if you are lucky enough to hit me, then so be it, I accept the consequences.

LANCE – (smirks) Like I really buy that…

JENNER – (glancing to Tula) Well hero, it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice now do you? I’ve given you my word. Prepare to deliver on your threats.

LANCE – (nods slowly) Very well…count.

Both Lance and Jenner’s eyes focus upon one another from a distance of twenty feet. Their brows narrowed in concentration as itchy trigger fingers wiggle spastically along the firing mechanism to their weapons. Jenner remains oddly calm contrasted to Lance’s more defensive, on edge manner. Licking his lips, Jenner begins the count down, as the room grows eerily silent. Time stands still and the focus is directed only on the silhouettes of Lance and Jenner and his slightly accented voice counts.

JENNER – One…Two…

Lance’s eyes narrow slightly waiting for the final second…that last spoken syllable on the last spoken decibel of that third sequential word, he would aim right between Jenner’s eyes and take him out.

JENNER –  Two and a half…two and a quarter…

LANCE – What the heck? Get to three already Jenner!

JENNER – Oh wait, wait, wait! I lost count now! We’ll have to start all over again!

LANCE – (gasps) START OVER???

Jenner’s fingers begin to wiggle along his left thigh as his lips purse to restart the count. Jenner was no idiot, nor was he unaware of the rules of the show down, he was buying his time as he drew the dark side into his veins, adding a new spin on your typical western spectacle.

JENNER – ONE!…TWO!…THREE!

Lance squeezes the trigger on his blaster but nothing happens , as Jenner hurls his arms upward, not even bothering to shoot having used his time to jam Lance’s weapon from firing, revealing his real plans. Behind Jenner suddenly, using the force to hold him still the two massive bay doors of the hanger scream to life like the hideous echo of the Cloud City Carbon freezing chamber, causing the air to begin sucking in boxes and debris as they hurl out into the exposed sky of VT’s home world. The power of the suction sweeps Lance up off the ground and right towards Jenner. Jenner uses the dark side, as the suction dies down, pressurized in the room to hover Lance above him, glaring into his eyes.

JENNER – (laughs hysterically) I can’t believe you fell for that….I promised I wouldn’t move from this spot, or block your shot…that is, IF I allowed you to make one in the first place.

Jenner quickly hurls Lance to the far left as he plummets from a story in the air into a pile of unyielding storage crates. Lance’s form is riddled with agonizing pain and bruised muscles as he lands flat on his back onto the solid formation below him, some of the boxes shift and topple down from his weight, while other fall over and slam to the floor of the hanger bay. Jenner grinning to his melee then closes his eyes visualizing a near by massive Imperial Shuttle, which is missing both its wings on either side, using the dark side to lift the one ton craft over 2 stories into the air, struggling with its weight but having nothing to distract him uses his hand to guide it over Lance’s crumpled silhouette.

JENNER – I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER THIS MOMENT LANCE! I WANT IT TO HAUNT YOU INTO YOUR NEXT LIFE! The agonizing realization that after all of your adventures, after all you’re progress and your accomplishments, when Tula breathes her LAST BREATH that today is the day…

Lance glances upward momentarily, dazed and confused as a black shadow falls over him, it is only then that he can see the bottom of the Shuttle’s landing gear come into view, hovering over him like a cloud, as he hears Jenner’s words whisper from his wretched lips.

JENNER – You failed…

Lance glances upward, channeling the force into his in desperation looking for a way to escape, seeing the shuttle beginning to lower down towards him, still under the grip of Jenner’s guidance. The view of the gear becoming closer and closer, and bigger as it nears his terrified, widened eyes…

Jenner watches in glee as he sees that Lance from his view appears to have his foot pinned under one of the heavy crates just as he swiftly lowers his hand…

and…

Drops the shuttle…
 

INTERIOR – THE KILLIAN CITADEL – BIOTECH LABORATORY

As the melee of combat occurs in both the massive Killian Throne Room and halfway across the galaxy, the apparent end of a one sided battle comes to a close, in a stirring of shuttle parts and shattered frames…beyond the hatred and torment beyond a door which no lightsaber can easily pierce lies another facet crucial to the further unfolding of destiny’s tale.

The scene opens up in the very recognizable hallway just outside the Biotech cloning facility where a machine used to craft the ultimate mate and weapon for its Lord Quillion appears to have taken on a will of its own, or at the very least has lost a vital gear in its normal purposes.

It is there inside this energetic, blazing purple bolt emitting room that the mystery continues to unravel. This room was the birthplace of Agen T’Negun, but not as it once appeared from Val’s visions derived by Agen’s lips and a forced kiss.

Bodies of Killian technicians who drew the unfortunate duty of carrying out Quillion’s direct orders to dismantle the four tube cloning unit lie lifeless on the floor. Their typical Killian robes smolder from multiple lashings of violet tendrils…their bodies charred from an over abundance of electrical burns. Still the primary technicians pondering whether to enter the room outside remain determined in their goals to complete Quillion’s wishes. While one is the confident figure known only as Tech III strides down with a handful of ten Killian Drone soldiers to carry on a confrontation with Tech II.

TECH III – I don’t care how superstitious you are, that machine has served its purpose. You heard what the master has decreed, he wants it shut off not!

TECH II – (glances up a moment) Look, if you want to go in there and see WHY I CAN’T DO THAT RIGHT NOW…be my guest…

Tech III glares towards Tech II, sliding his fingers along a data scan reader as the room opens up. As soon as the door begins to open, the more prominent Tech is leveled clear against the wall as purple tendrils of light, like a hand grab and pin him, riddling his body with electrical fury. Tech II stands over his superior and closes the door, cutting off the purple bolts of light from the connection to his body.

TECH II – Now do you believe me?

TECH III – (dazed) Send the…send the drones. I’m not going in there with that going on!

TECH II – (smirks) My thoughts exactly.

Tech III slowly brushes his fingers along his outfit, then motions to the drones. Much like the clone troopers of the Clone Wars, the units as they are referred to beyond the term “drone” have no wills of their own, no emotion, no conflict…they go into battle to win and if they die, they die for the glory of their master. This is what delighted Quillion, absolute control.

With a flick of his finger, Tech III orders the drones to enter the room. This time however when Tech II slides his fingers along the reader, opening the door all of the bolts of purple have silenced. There is no sound in the room whatsoever. Without thought or resistance all ten of the drones pace into the room and stop in the center, waiting further instruction as Tech II and Tech III watch in amazement that they are completely unharmed.

Inside the cloning facility there is carbon scored machinery, some is damaged and busted out while other pieces still function, with slight damage. The walls are black and covered in carbon soot. Each panel displays the effects of the lattice energy raking into their structure. Yet in the very center of the room, nearest the back stood the machine.

The cloning machine only emitted a very small hum. There were four equally spaced tubes, upon which gasses; swirling clouds rippled behind the transparasteel view ports. One of the tubes was completely empty and the door was open, along the inner metallic structure of the holding unit, where tubes and wires hung down were the words:

PROJECT AGEN

Likewise along the tube next to it read these words:

PROJECT PROTEUS

Along the last two tubes, there was one with nothing written, and the last tube on the far left was also open and exposed as Agen’s tube was, meaning that only two of the four cylinders were in use.

The two techs gazed towards the drones from outside the room and slowly, stopped at the entranceway, cautiously eyeing the massive cloning chambers far across the room from them.

TECH III – I knew it…it must have blown the generator…it can’t be on a constant state of overload forever.

TECH II – (nervous) If you…if you say so…what now?

Tech III arrogantly strides into the room, motioned to his subordinate to follow him, which having no choice in the matter complies with the order as they take their place with the Killian drones formed in a circle around them.

TECH III – You have your orders drones…disassemble that monstrosity as once!

The Killian drones nod slowly and draw their weapons. Tech III glances to the cloning machine as Tech II eyes the door cautiously, then the large cloning vats just to his left.

TECH II – Are you sure this is…wise?

TECH III – What are you talking about? How in the blazes did you even get this position? Where is your guts boy?

One of the Killian drones approaches a leading power cable to the first tube where Agen was created; ripping it from the machine as sparks of blue sputter out, emitting a loud electrical twang. The machine’s LED screen begins to flicker with a red crimson hue, then dies back down but as the machine’s lights flicker, a rushing sound of what sounds like a powerful vacuum roars, drifting back to silence.

Tech II cautiously shifts his eyes towards the machine then watches another drone rip another wire out of the tube, while a few on the side slam their fists through computer work stations, erupting another shower of orange tinted sparks and sputters. The machine responds by roaring with a even more intense echo of its vacuum like sound. The computer display once again shrieks to life with spinning numbers and letters on the view screen, as Tech III watches, while Tech II is the only one to see these letters type on the screen, and fade away.

S….T….O…P

Tech II taps Tech III’s shoulder and whispers to him.

TECH II – I think you better listen…

TECH III – Nonsense! Drones…work quicker!

TECH II – But Sir, the machine says it doesn’t like that.

Tech III spins around on his heel and glares face to face in Tech II’s eyes, screaming to him.

TECH III – GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF! IT’S A MACHINE! IT DOESN’T THINK!

Tech II – But I saw…I saw something on the screen…there.

Tech III glares towards the control panel as the first cone tube’s mechanisms are completely destroyed, the drones move on to the second tube. The machine this time sparks with a short burst of purple electricity, slamming the energy into two of the drones, leveling them to the floor, then returning to its silence as if nothing happened.

The words on the LCD screen appear once more, as Tech II glances to them.

G…E…T…O…U…T

Tech II nervously glances to Tech III, then tears from his grip, glaring to him as he rushes towards the door.

TECH II – I’M NOT STAYING IN HERE ONE MINUTE LONGER!

TECH III – (drawing his blaster) DESERTER! THERE IS NO ROOM FOR WEAKNESS IN THE KILLIAN ORDER!

Tech III grabs his blaster and trains his aim on Tech II as he dashes for the door, firing off a volley of blaster bolts, slamming square into Tech II’s back. The terrified young recruit slumps across a computer monitor trying to keep his balance, then topples to the floor dead. As soon as Tech II falls to the floor, the door to the room suddenly shuts locking the drones and Tech III inside the room.

Suddenly the entire room is plunged into darkness as the machine howls to life, hurling the drones away in a strobe-light effect of exploding electrical consoles. Tech III cranes his gaze from where Tech II lies gunned down, over to the screen he has so desperately told his superior to read. This time as the room is plunged into a void of black, lit only by a single monitor of red letters, Tech III can see the letters form for him to read.

N…O…E…S…C…A…P…E

No sooner are the letters typed out, then the eerie rush of mechanical sounds blare from the menacing clone producing unit. Tech III snaps his eyes towards one of the cylinder tubes begin to clear the smoke within to reveal something staggering inside the tube…momentarily before the machine erupts into a flurry of purple lightning frying himself and the drones in an instant release of amethyst brilliance, taking his life without regret or remorse, consuming his body with paralyzing chains of deadly lightning…the warnings ignored the machine once again takes control of the room.
 

INTERIOR THE KILLIAN THRONE ROOM – LOWER LEVEL

Returning back to the less active, torch lit chambers of the main throne room we can see Cire standing next to Terra, who as we last left her had indeed been led into and fastened within the dreaded “X” chair, the chair so deadly in design that it almost claimed the life of a highly trained Dark Jedi Master. Cire smiled softly to Agen, who had kept her gaze still on the wall where Val was trapped. The feeling of ecstasy flowed through her ice-cold blood as she watched Cire tease his niece wit impending doom. There was no longer a control panel to operate the device however, and Terra knew this so for the moment she rested, confident that her Uncle was not aware that it could no longer function due to the fact that when Terra hurled her two javelins towards the Dark Lord, she had missed and damaged the panels beyond repair and in that moment she also unwittingly knocked Corrie to the floor and clear out of her sense but there was one other element to the puzzle none of them were aware of. When the panel was damaged, the collar keeping Corrie under his thumb was now shorted out…she had her own will again.

Corrie’s shook her head and slowly rose from the floor, having finally recovered from the blinding power of the accident, knowing full well what she was “expected” to do, she nodded slowly to her “master” and retook her position against the computer console…faking that she was so out of it, and didn’t have the will to realize it no longer functioned.

Cire raised an eyebrow towards Corrie, seeing that his precious toy was still under his command, as he was led to believe. Still focused in his moment of rage towards his bound captive, anger returned to his heart as his eyes flared to life, much to Agen’s delight.

CIRE – CORERILLA! TURN ON THE MACHINE! I WANT MY NIECE TO EXPERIENCE FIRST HAND WHAT IT WAS CONSTRUCTED TO DO!

CORRIE – (monotone voice) I can no longer operate the device Lord Quillion, the control panel refuses to function correctly.

Cire’s eyes flash with feral intensity as he growls to Corrie, pushing her aside, seeing for himself the damage that has been done to his precious torture unit. Screaming to the tops of his lungs he cursed the two-wedged javelins jutting out from the front. Grasping each in his hand he tears them from the mangled metal and hurls them angrily into a nearby wall. Terra, strapped in the chair laughs in his face, loudly and as annoying as she can to fuel his temper tantrum further, mocking him.

TERRA – (laughing)HAHAHAAH I GUESS CLASS IS CANCELED EH PROFESSOR?

CIRE – (screams) SHUT UP YOU ANNOYING LITTLE RODENT! YOU WILL FIND THAT I ALWAYS GET WHAT I WANT!

TERRA – (snicker) Now who is the whiney little brat?

Cire scowls loudly, then runs a finger along his chin in thought, turning his back to Terra as he ponders a way to solve his dilemma, then an idea grows in his sick harvested mind. Letting his fingers fall to his sides he careens his gaze back towards Terra. The same sadistic smirk that he uses when he is about to do something absolutely deadly plays along his lips…this sight, knowing it first hand begins to send shivers down Terra’s mind as her eyes begin to widen.

CIRE – (pacing to Terra) I believe Lord Vader said it best…with a little adjustment. “Do not rely so heavily on this technical catastrophe you have constructed Terra, the ability to disturb my plans is insignificant compared to the power of force.

TERRA – (blinks) What are you saying?

Cire’s fingers splay along his thighs as his eyes focus on one of the 3 main power units connected to the menacing torture chair.

CIRE – Electronic Manipulation.

Terra’s eyes widen, as she realizes what her uncle plans to do, drawing up as much force power as she can to brace for the impact of his next gesture, trying desperately to draw enough energy to break the straps of solid steel holding her captive.

Cire’s eyes flash with renewed vigor as his brows raise, and the first of three generators to the chair roar to life, each sequentially igniting until the upper right corner of the room hums with charged aggression.

CIRE – YOU LIKE TO LAUGH TERRA…BUT I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAM!

With his words, the chair’s features come into play under Cire’s force manipulation, all at once Terra is powerless to stop the pulsating muscle stimulations tensing every muscle in her body to incredible pain or the brilliant bolts of energy literally electrocuting her body and in addition to that in a series of deadly accurate moves, the four track blades slice into her thighs, up along her arms, to her shoulders, leaving countless lines of cuts across her skin as blood rushes from the wounds, bathing Terra in a blanket of her own crimson essence as Cire drinks in the suffering cries of Terra’s screams, hearing them begin to fade as she shouts herself to the point of being hoarse losing her voice first…then her will…and slowly, drip by drip…her life.

Before Cire can finish off his last surviving relative, Agen is suddenly blasted back by a tremendous column of flames and debris as everything inside Cire’s “shrine” room flies out of the entrance, rocked clear off its foundation, the wall having guarded the entrance now being completely blown away.

Cire is distracted by the interruption and ceases the blades, his concentration causes almost all the torturous functions of the chair to stop, but the chair remains active emitting a steady discharge of electricity and muscle simulation at the second power level setting…Terra whose body can barely hold together from the trauma of all her pain receptors firing off at once slumps lifelessly, barely moving as her wounds slowly try to seal under the power of the force but with her half dazed concentration they only manage to coagulate her blood flow.

His eyes glare towards the spiraling dust and flaming embers scattered along the onyx black floor, as Agen crawls her way towards Gen’s saber just beyond her reach, losing it in the explosion. Cire’s mind begins to try and detect the thoughts of the person he know is responsible for the decimation of his room and littering his floor with flaming ash.

Suddenly, from the darkness, a thin sky blue lightsaber blade extends to life moving into the room. As the dust swirls around the figure of Val along his left and right in spirals, his eyes lock dead on to Cire, with anger filling his eyes.

VAL – (glances to his new suit) HEY CIRE! I GOT SOMETHING HERE THAT MIGHT INTEREST YOU!

CIRE – (noticing the uniform) HEY TAKE THAT OFF! IT BELONGS TO ME!

VAL – You messed with my coat…NO ONE messes with Val’s coat, it’s just something you DO NOT DO.

CIRE – GIVE THAT BACK NOW!

VAL – (glares) I have only one word for you if you want this suit back Cire and I’m sure you know what is…I’ve told you it once before, in vast forest, over a locket.

CIRE – (blinks) What is that?

VAL – Fetch…

As soon as Cire takes a step forward, glaring towards Terra, slumped over and motionless he glances to Agen, back on her feet with renewed strength, raising her fingers to unleash her own brand of force lightning composed of a unique swirling display of violet brilliance. Val glares to Agen, raising his lightsaber as he uses the force to absorb the energy of her lighting attack, craning his gaze towards her with narrowed brows and a more focused and vile look that rivals Cire in intensity. Val’s hand slides from his saber as Agen struggles to summon another streak of light, and hurls his own counter against her in the form of a thunderous force push, so hard, her skull smacks into the wall behind her plunging her into a semi conscious state.

VAL – WAIT YOUR TURN…I’LL GET TO YOU IN A MOMENT.

Val growls towards Agen, then shifts his icy stare towards Cire, lifting his free hand, pointing to him as a grin spreads along his lips.

VAL – YOU…however…are on borrowed time.

Cire’s eyes light with delight as he reaches for his Sith Sword, then relents seeing already that Agen has quickly recovered with her accelerated force healing abilities. In addition she has also re-affixed her staggering hypnotic gaze on Val’s eyes as he tries to break the hold, confused for the moment why he still feels he must submit to her, knowing full well she’s not his lover any longer.

AGEN – Fight it all you wish Val, but you forget that whether I’m your lover or your worst enemy, your body is chemically attuned to succumb to my charms… you may not want me, but your body’s functions act differently.

Agen advances on Val as he tries hard to close his eyes, managing by pure willpower to do so, clearing his thoughts, breaking the chain of submission weaved around him, licking his lips in thought he glances to the flickering fires of the floor and smoldering embers of a burning doll of Gen from Cire’s collection.

VAL – (looking at the doll) You assume you are in control, you assume I will remain blinded by my love…by desire Agen. I have learned the future is not set; the future is what we choose to make of it.

Val’s fingers slide along his belt, withdrawing the strip of torn fabric from his sleeveless trench coat, craning his gaze towards Agen as she approaches, sending a weak swing towards his side, Val’s hand parrying the blow sending another powerful force push back against Agen, her body slamming hard along the wall once more as he continues to bring the strip of gray towards his face. With Agen knocked back, Cire stands perplexed at Val’s actions, having studied everything Val has done in a fight, this new strategy was unlike any known tactic he had encountered before…then it began to hit him. Agen was the ultimate weapon only as long as Val looked in her eyes, and clung to his false sense of hope to change her. Now however things were different. Val no longer wanted to live Agen nor did he wish to spare her…he was clearly doing something effective with that strip of his coat….

CIRE – (blinks) It's not possible Val, don’t even try it…not on has ever managed to.

Val ignores Cire’s lecture wrapping the cloth around his eyes, securing the back into a knot as his vision plunges to darkness, drawing upon the force to guide his actions completely and in response he was now 100% free of all the advantages Agen was given. Val could no longer see her eyes, nor could he be haunted by flashbacks of her appearance. His body could no longer respond to her inbred charms…he was clearly ready to add a new page in Cire’s reference manual.

CIRE – (perplexed) You’re going to die for sure Val! You and your sister and your family and your friends…you really want to waste your life so hastily?

VAL – (points his finger) I’ve heard enough out of you…

Completely in control of his thoughts, and able to almost visualize the room he was in purely on memory, the force guided his every motion, snapping his hand forward Val slams Cire clear over the control panel of the “X” chair and straight on through the flames of his fire pits, all the way up to the very top of his throne room seat, hurling him with a mixture of both a force push and a lavation method. Val was only able to do this because his memory knew exactly what the throne room looked like and Cire did not move from Val’s last image of him. As Cire defies gravity and is thrown upward to his dais, towering above, Val’s eyes using his images of Gen’s position in a blurred silhouette glare in her direction.

VAL – As for you Agen…It’s time I took this game to a whole new level

Cire couldn’t watch the display nor launch a counter attack towards Val since by passing through the towering columns of flames at the base of his throne, his robe had instantly began to catch fire. Stamping around like a madman Cire was forced to try and stomp them out, too dazed to use the force for the task, occupying him from interfering in Val’s plans.

Agen’s lips curled into a grin as she watched Val make a fool of himself, standing completely helpless and blind. She presses the button to her weapon as the purple blade again, emerges from its slumber while she takes her time to pace over to him, one foot in front of the other. While Agen approaches, Corrie from her vantage point also watches the tactic, wondering why in the hell Val is putting himself in such a vulnerable position. Added to that why he is fighting blind. She debates whether to cry out and warn him as Agen swings her lightsaber in a vicious Form K uppercut strike, but soon dismisses the thought as she is dazzled by Val’s smooth step to the far left, as his blade swirls around and clips across Agen’s back, infuriating her.

Corrie blinks with disbelief as Agen carries through with another brutal swipe of her blade, as Val gingerly uses both hands on Obi Wan’s saber to parry her oncoming blade. Val’s mind completely free of Cire’s interference and Agen’s appearance allows him to tap fully on the powers of his force control, setting his very future in its hands, trusting upon its guidance completely, similar to Luke Skywalker and his encounter with a Jedi training droid but with a level of concentration needed that would expire a Padawan’s focus in seconds, causing their defeat.

Val’s hands move with his intuition, defending a flurry of Agen’s aggravated and bolder sideswipes followed with overhand arches. As Agen’s blade comes in for a careless swing to his head. Val spins around with faster speed, seeming to burst out of no where, having achieved a flawless level of force harmony, sacrificing his sight for attuned senses of hearing, touch, and smell racking his blade across Agen’s midsection with his flawless Form “V” precision, but not close enough halve her. Val was under the complete meditative control of his own custom blind tactics he had developed in secret years ago locked in his Versai Mansion. The fighting style known as Form “B”. With his exclusive knowledge of the method. Such a strategy was not implanted in Agen’s mind to adapt to it.

Agen screams in frustration, sending another vicious sideswipe towards Val’s midsection, but she soon finds his blade under her own, locking into a “X”. as his foot comes to nail her square in the stomach, driving the air from her lungs. Val’s face scrunches with frustration, trying to keep his focus on the force and his intuitions, sensing Agen’s attacks seconds before they happen, easily parrying in 180 swings away from them or sending her own blade spinning back in her face.

AGEN – (enraged) I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT! HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLE DUEL WITHOUT SIGHT!

VAL – (concentrating) When one sense is sacrificed Agen, the others gain its power evenly…you banked on holding the visual advantage, but I know your weakness and this time dear…you get careless I will not relent in sending you back where you came from.

Agen screams in utter agony, dipping into the dark side to speed her own movements, just to keep up with Val’s blazing speed, each blade impacting into one another back and forth as she finds herself face to face with Val’s blindfold and his Form B guided blade.

Val’s instincts tell him where to place his hands and position his lightsaber, and they begin to move faster and faster like a game of Simon, having to move his lightsaber in the direction he is told like pressing a series of rapidly building sequences of flashing buttons as Agen pulls out all the stops and use her awesome force control to reach speeds that would rival Crymson Vachon, as both blades of vibrant ice blue and purple dance back and forth, back and forth, ricocheting flashes of while off both duelist’s faces ,each determined to make the other slip up…as Cire can see from high above his throne the two blades moving at blinding speeds so fast that Corrie is even left with her jaw dropped in awe.
 

INTERIOR VERSAI TECH – HANGER BAY J-1198

Returning back to the dreary interiors of the abandoned hanger bay in VT, Jenner glances over to his handiwork. The shuttle that was currently hovering over Lance with its landing gear extended was now dropped on top of his last spot. Dust swirled through the air so thick from the impact, that it even chocked Jenner’s lungs to breath. There were several sections of shattered plastoid crates where the shuttle’s tremendous weight had crushed their structures like eggshells. It seemed that Jenner had made his point well as he glanced out through the opened doors of the bay into the night sky of a twin sunset covering VT’s home world in a blanket of dazzling reds, oranges, and subtle purple horizons.

Jenner paced along the floor, staring to one of the boxes containing the ysalamiri within. Jenner’s eyes glanced to the danger lying behind the durable and weighted down units with sinister intentions. Such a pity he thought…he had come to face a champion and he had found a boy hiding behind a rank he did not deserve. Lance however was far more intelligent then Jenner would allow for as his impending doom displayed his abrupt passing in Jenner’s view…many thing depended on that certain point of view that did not necessarily reflect the truth.

Lance has managed to at the last possible moment, free his foot and roll across the surfaces of the crates, into one of the landing gear hatches as the shuttle cam crashing down, emerging into the lower half of the craft itself, startled for the moment but unharmed save for a few bruised ribs and cuts. Lance trained his eyes through the jet black window of the incapacitated shuttle, waiting…watching Jenner’s movements pacing his thoughts to remain shielded from Jenner’s mind reading methods. Lance wanted Jenner to think he had won so once he turned his back to finish Tula, Lance would use the force to hurl his body straight through the glass visor of the shuttle, and fire a hail of gunfire, taking Jenner by complete surprise enough to wrestle his lightsaber away from him and beat him down military style, fist to fist.

It didn’t take long for this event to take shape as Jenner grasped the hilt of Lance’s personal lightsaber, peering over the edge of the cliff upon which J-1198 was built, into the side of it. Miles below was nothing but sharp rocks, and a massive canyon with a thin lined river at the very base of the cliff, in which deadly creatures swam in search of their next meal.

Jenner decided to feed them in his own sadistic way, he ignited the blade of Lance’s lightsaber, finding that wielding two sabers at one time was far too meticulous for his tastes, stretching the ocean blue blade outward into the air and outside the hanger bay platform, uncurling his fingers one by one as Lance behind the glass was forced to either act quickly or lose his personal weapon…thinking it over Lance concluded what Jenner was trying to do was goad Lance into giving up his element of surprise…deep down Jenner didn’t want to win so easily, he wanted Lance to survive but he also wanted him to suffer.

As a wide grin sprawled along his lips, he flipped a dial on Lance’s ignited lightsaber, shimmering in ocean blue vibrancy to set the device to remain active, even when the wielder’s grip left the base. It was typical of Jenner’s villainous ways to make everything around him suffer. With his last finger retracted, Jenner released his grip on the lightsaber and it tumbled down, spinning with the blade still ignited into the abyss below, far from the reach of its master, and straight through a couple of the creatures as they cried out in utter shock as the blade severed through their limber bodies…the blade sputtering out immersion of the river floods the electrical components taking out another eight of the creatures by brutally electrocuting them alive in the highly conductive water before the handle itself sank to the bottom of the river, and into extinction.

Jenner’s thoughts wrapped themselves around the screams of the creatures below, delighting in their pain. their agony, it fueled his dark side tendencies with delight. Lance felt a sense of loss but as he had told Jenner before he never relied on the lightsaber as his weapon of choice, in fact the device Jenner thought was so precious to him was not even custom built. Lance had acquired the weapon on one of his missions in the older days of his service to Val during The Krath Wars. Jenner’s eyes raised in satisfaction as he spun around and finally, left his position glaring upwards to Tula raised on the platform two stories above him…it was the moment Lance had prepped for, instantaneously evoking his force speed and a lesser force shield to hurl his body through the visor of the shuttle, shattering pits of shimmering shards of glass in every direction as the shield dissipated, protecting him from harm, much to a startled Jenner who could not turn around in time to dodge the two bolts slamming through his right shoulder as he recoils in pain.

Even with such agony, with the dark side as his ally Jenner unclips and ignites his crimson blade and whips around 180 in instinct right into Lance’s hurling path as he flies over him, still discharging his blaster frantically as Jenner counters the new salvo of deadly red rain, catching Lance off guard enough to swing his lightsaber upward, a shimmer of sparks and the twang of cleaved metal emitting as Lance tucks into a roll and faces Jenner on his right, glancing down to see that Jenner’s weapon had severed clean through his blaster, casting it aside.

JENNER – (shocked) Still alive I see…

LANCE – It’s never easy with a Jade…

Jenner nods slowly then unleashes a series of Form K brilliance with his lightsaber, as Lance grabs a few pipes at his feet, trying to deflect the path of the blade, but seeing that metal is no match for the power of a lightsaber’s aura of energy, he finds his longer pipes soon reduced in length and number. With his left foot, Lance hooks his boot under a steel rod and casts it into the air. Grabbing the pole he spins the rod around like a bo, smacking Jenner in the back of the head, then under his swinging arm, as Jenner aims too high, catching the shaft of Lance’s martial arts weapon in his ribs, then whirled around to his side completely off guard from Lance’s trained military prowess. Jenner desperately tries to continue his lightsaber forms but he finds each time he swings, he his body tastes the steel of Lance’s metallic staff. Lance using the force as his ally channels the speed and concentration to reduce Jenner to his knees. As Jenner drops however he manages to cleave his saber vertical through Lance’s weapon, severing the rod in two, sending a kick to Lance’s gut enough to knock him back. Channeling the force under his control Lance uses Jenner’s tactics against him, yanking Jenner’s lightsaber from his grasp into Lance’s awaiting palm.

LANCE – IT’S BECOME OBVIOUS JENNER THAT YOUR POWER LIES ONLY IN THIS DEVICE…WELL NO LONGER!

JENNER – NOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Lance returns the favor Jenner did to his lightsaber, flicking off the switch before hurling the weapon as hard as he can clear across the south side of the room all the way back towards the double door entrance, hearing the CLANG of the metallic casing impacting into the wall and the echo of its surface rolling behind a pair of shipping crates, completely shielded from view.

Jenner screams furiously as he tries to slam his fist as hard as he can into Lance’s jaw. Seeing the motion, Lance uses his precise balance to grab Jenner’s fist as he squeezes with force enhanced strength around the curled knuckles, hearing Jenner’s bones crack under the pressure. Lance takes Jenner’s hand and spins it to his right, out of alignment so his arm is forced to lock, bending his elbow the opposite direction, then by his wrist, Lance slams Jenner hard, using his momentum against him into a pile of ship parts face first as Jenner’s eyes widen feeling the full brunt of the impact.

Lance no longer bothers with words as he lets his actions speak for him, executing a series of calculated punches and uppercuts into Jenner’s body, each finding their mark as Jenner’s concentration is focused on healing his blaster riddled shoulder…without a weapon and time to gather his dark side power Jenner is knocked from his almighty high horse and forced to endure tactics he had never counted on needed…hand to hand combat with one of the best in the galaxy.

Jenner stumbles along the floor as his body is whipped into the extended wing of a broken down X-Wing, his ribs cracking from the impact as his arms lurch over the folded sections of the craft, his back turned only momentarily as Lance whips his around, sending a swift uppercut so hard into his jaw, he swears his teeth shatter as blood erupts from his lips.

Lance’s mind fills with every aspect of Jenner’s deeds done to him, from the near dear experience of the shuttle to the pain in Tula’s eyes, the countless images of death Jenner has forced Lance to endure, of friends and loyal employees…for each Lance slams his fists into Jenner’s body, systematically taking him apart having stripped him of his precious saber. Jenner hastily tries to come up with a counter to Lance’s blinding fist throwing fury, glaring up to see Tula. His hand shoots up towards her and hovers her off the platform, two stories up, threatening to drop her the moment Lance hits him with one more punch as Lance manages to at the last possible moment, stop his fist one inch of Jenner’s face seeing the what he is intending to do.

JENNER – BACK OFF HERO! IF YOU HIT ME ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR TO PALPATINE I WILL DROP HER! I WILL LET HER PLUMMET AND SHATTER ON THE FLOOR LIKE A BLOCK OF ICE! DO YOU HEAR ME LANCE!

Lance pants heavily as his energy and fatigue starts to catch up with him, shooting his gaze towards Tula’s predicament, still noting that she is not moving…remembering that he is in a race against time for the cure to the virus sapping her life with each and every moment passing. In his ear he can hear Michael frantically asking him what is going on, it he was ok…worried and concerned as he lies watching over Marc Jade in the medical facility, reminding him about the button that can release the ysalamiri…using the Michael’s words to his advantage, focusing his stare on Jenner.

Jenner grins in pleasure as he gets back to his feet, wiping his lip and the blood from it on his sleeve with his unoccupied hand smiling as he feels he is once again back in control.

LANCE – Put her back where you found her…This is between us.

JENNER – (smirks) I tell you what champion, if you want me to leave her out of this feud, you march your little Presidential behind down that corridor and retrieve my lightsaber.

LANCE – You have got to be joking…

Jenner begins to release his grip as Tula drops then suddenly stops short half a story, his eyes glowing with feral enjoyment.

JENNER – I never joke about business…Do it or she dies right now.

Lance’s eyes wander over Tula, gritting his teeth as he turns around and paces back into the darkness, disappearing into it as he passes the disassembled A-wings, all the way south of the bay. It was intermission time or the two duelist, Jenner had his bargaining chip hanging by a thread while Lance for he first time since his battle began to answer Michael through the comlink as he kept his pace to hide his actions from Jenner’s detection as the Dark Lord stood there and tapped his foot in wait, his focusing hand still outstretched to Tula.

LANCE – (com) Michael come in…

Michael within the medical bay is startled to hear Lance’s voice, eagerly keeping his focus on Marc Jade as he still remains unconscious in his medical bed, while machines buzz and beep, tracking his vital signs and breathing functions.

MICHAEL – (com) Lance….you old pirate is that you? Are you ok? I heard shouting then nothing…what’s going on?

LANCE – (com) You might call it the first break in the duel. Jenner has poisoned Tula and has forced me into a contest for the antidote. I’m retrieving his lightsaber at the moment because he’s threatening to drop Tula if I don’t. I don’t think he suspects the ysalamiri in the cages just yet…when I tell you hit the release buttons on your remote.

MICHAEL – (com) I’m glad to hear you’re ok…I was worried when I heard the transmission go silent after a deafening crash. I’ve got my fingers on the remote. What happened?

LANCE – (com) He dropped a shuttle on me…

MICHAEL – (com) A shuttle? What do you mean, how can he drop a frigging shuttle on you!

LANCE – (com) I’ll tell you about it later…I’m going to try and lure him right next to the ysalamiri, when you hear the words “Looks like you have me right where you want me” hit the switches and open the cages.

MICHAEL – (com) That’ s a big 10-4 my friend.

Lance reaches the end of the room, and roams the dusty surface of the hanger bay floor for a hint of Jenner’s weapon as he paces around a series of stacked crates and empty racks. Keeping his posture in Jenner’s view and facial expressions as if he is focused hard on locating the lightsaber hilt, hiding his conversation with Michael, while weaving the force to shield his thoughts from Jenner’s detection.

LANCE – (com) How is Marc doing?

MICHAEL – (com) He’s stable…they’re going to try and give him a stim pack so he can come out of his dazed state and hopefully he has something interesting to say, I’ll let you know the instant I know something…till then I await your signal.

LANCE – (com) Ok I found his weapon, I need you to remain silent on the radio until I tell you otherwise. I can’t risk him discovering my plan before I can implement it. He could read your thoughts otherwise and for the moment he doesn’t know I’m speaking to anyone. Listen carefully and keep that finger on the release buttons…

MICHAEL – (com) Understood sir, you might want to know that The Council has men searching all over the building for you, they know you violated your orders. They’re seeking to place you under arrest for insubordination. When they come here what should I tell them?

LANCE – (com) Tell them that I’m in a meeting, if they want to come and arrest me they’re welcome to come down here and try it in an hour. Try to buy me some time. Tell them where to find me only when I have told you to do so…because when they do, Jenner will be dead. That is all the damn proof they need.

MICHAEL – (com) Brilliant Sir! Then with Jenner dead, the threat to the company will be finished! I’ll stall them as long as I can if they figure out where to find me.

Lance’s words then fade out as he picks up Jenner’s lightsaber. Lance invests on the thought that perhaps with the distance and impact of his throw the weapon’s crystals might have misaligned and when Jenner flicks the switch to use the device, it will blow off his hand and finish the battle for him. Still as he has instructed Michael to keep a close eye on Marc, Lance spins around on his heel and begins to pace back towards Jenner. His eyes watch as Jenner’s lips curl with approval to his actions, stretching his hand outward to take his weapon back in his hand.

LANCE – Here is your power Jenner. Now show one shred of decency and put Tula back on the platform…leave the girl along she’s been through enough.

Jenner nods respectfully and hovers Tula back on the platform in rhythm with Lance placing his lightsaber back into his outstretched palm, his eyes shimmering with delight, clipping the hilt back to his belt before pacing back, facing Lance to his original position, craning his eyes towards the two storage units containing the ysalamiri, then returning his eyes towards Lance, motioning him to approach him and restart the battle.

JENNER – Intermission is over Lance, let’s pick up where we left off shall we? I see I have my weapon back and well you still have one of your blasters left. That makes us even.

LANCE – (nods slowly) Of course you realize, that’s what I’ve wanted you to think.

JENNER – Eh?

Lance suddenly rushes towards Jenner, spearing him into a empty weapons rack, as the fight begins once more before Jenner can reach his saber. Using his feral dark side rage though, drawing upon its hatred Jenner grabs Lance by his throat and hurls him ten feet away. Lance curls into a ball and spins around to land on his feet as Jenner rubs his sore shoulder, the wounds having sealed from his dark healing powers but the pain still evident as his gaze catches Lance’s fingers sliding along his left sleeve, drawing three throwing daggers.

JENNER – BUT ITS NOT SUPPOSED BE LIKE THIS! WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE EVEN!

LANCE – I never play the odds!

Lance slides his fingers along the blades and throws each directly towards Jenner, the lines of silver metal streak towards Jenner with such blinding speed, that on slightly spaced paths, the first dagger slams into Jenner’s right shoulder, reinsuring it, while the other slams into his left, adding more insults to his injuries. As Jenner raises his hand to block the third dagger, the blade plunges straight through the center of this palm. Oddly enough Jenner does not cry out but rather looks as the knife, holding his hand flat up before him, turning his palm to face him, looking to the other end of the knife sticking out through his hand.

JENNER – (glancing to the dagger) Did you forget one little detail Lance? This hand…is artificial.

Lance realizes that Jenner had not been fast enough to stop the two daggers from slamming into his shoulders, and that the third knife had pierced into Jenner’s fake hand, the same hand he used to shake Val’s hand as “Dathan”, knowing that the blade does nothing more then give Jenner a second weapon as well to use against him.

Jenner tears the dagger from his palm, then rips out the two in his shoulders, gritting his teeth at the pain causing his arm movements to slow from their full potentials, knowing now with the injuries even with the dark side healing, his saber skills were now less then half of their full capacity. Channeling the dark side of the force, he hurls the blade he pulled from his hand back towards Lance with twice the speed as before.

Lance’s fingers race upwards as he uses his light side defensive measures to stop the dagger in mid-flight, as Jenner pushes against it with his focus, Lance’s eyes glaring towards the knife as it spins around on its axis, frozen in place. Flipping his fingers around Lance spins the blade back to face towards Jenner and gathers all of his strength to overpower Jenner’s struggled focus as the blade races back towards him.

This time Jenner is quick enough to sidestep the deadly point, as it slams into the wall, racing over his shoulder. With all of his own focus Jenner begins to close his eyes to slits and pull on objects around him, looking beyond Lance’s position, as heavy crates and racks lift from the floor and slam along Lance’s left and right into his body, forcing him to advance forward as the deadly hail of machinery slams into the back of his head, thighs, and back. Each time Lance tries to get back to his feet a box levels him back to the floor and adding insult to injury, each time he falls, another salvo of crates rams at full speed into his frame, causing mind numbing pain, knocking him along the floor like a rag doll.

Jenner’s eyes flare with savored satisfaction as he watches Lance stop short of the two hanger bay doors, now open, threatening to suck him out. Allowing Lance to get back to his feet, Jenner unleashes another facet to his plan.

JENNER – (speaking to a staggered Lance) You’ve fought bravely President Jade. I mean I expected to be back at the Citadel an hour ago but this is most impressive!

LANCE – (grins) Well then Jenner “looks like you have me right where you want me.”

The instant Michael hears the signal, he hits the red release buttons on his controller, expecting Jenner’s voice to be overheard yelling in shock as his force power is ripped from his grasp, but all Michael can hear through Lance’s communicator is Jenner’s cackle of laughter as Lance is hit from behind by the massive section of an Imperial Shuttle wing, sent skidding along the floor, quickly able to grasp the ledge of the floor as his body clings for dear life along the rocky exterior of the cliff, seeing the wing nose-dive down towards the river miles below.

JENNER – (laughs hysterically) HAHAHAAHAH WHAT! YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WITH INSIDE HELP HERO! I HAVE MY RESOURCES! YOUR RELEASE MECHANISMS LINKED TO MICHAEL’S REMOTE WERE DEACTIVATED THE MOMENT I TOLD YOU WHERE TO FIND ME!

Lance gasps for breath, gritting his teeth in anger and surprise, now clinging along a strip of caution tape painted along the surface of the hanger bay. His eyes widened with shock that not only has his plan failed release the ysalamiri, but now he was once again at Jenner’s mercy, gazing into Jenner’s cackling expression as he loomed above him. The winds picking up outside whip Jenner’s robe around furiously as Lance struggles to maintain his grip against the invisible barrage.
 

INTERIOR THE KILLIAN THRONE ROOM – LOWER LEVEL

While Lance grasps the ledge of the floor, miles away back in the black void of Cire’s throne room where torches set within triangular units blaze around the interior casting their fiery luminescence, Cire still remains dazed along his throne room, upon the upper dais…barely able to focus on the blinding speed of Val and Agen’s lightsabers racing back and forth along each other. Terra remains motionless strapped in the X chair as Corrie watches from the control panel, still not letting anyone know just yet that she is no longer under the control of the slave collar shimmering around her neck. Her eyes roam along Terra’s injuries as she feels sympathy for her suffering. Despite the fact Terra was a T’Negun and she would kill Val at a moment’s notice, the shocking gesture of Val freeing a potential enemy led her to conclude that given the brutal treatment by her Uncle Cire, Terra had declared her independence from the family.

Val’s eyes continued to remain focused behind the blindfold as Agen’s blade grinded along his sky blue length, the pace at which Val and Agen swing their deadly edges was so fast that it seemed along their faces, the flashing hues of purple and blue displayed their silhouettes and actions in a strobe-like sequence. Agen sensing that she was beginning to tire decided upon a new strategy to turn the tides back on Val. She had known by Val’s weakness derived from her body’s resemblance to Gen Zeridian that love was the only thing that would knock Val back off his game…knowing this she suddenly spun around 360 degrees from Val’s blade as his saber gashed into the polished black floor below him.

Val was caught off guard by the movement, trying to sense what Agen was up to…scanning her thoughts causing him to break his concentration over Form B, peering into the depths of her psyche. He could hear her boots colliding along the floor in a causal manner in the direction of the decimated hidden room where he had emerged from in signature Val drama.

Agen wasn’t planning on heading into the room of melted, charred toys and collectables filling Cire’s once prominent collectors chamber…no she was heading along a pathway just to the left of it. Her lightsaber came up in typical Form II form as she glanced towards her new opponent…an opponent who could not fight back, could not move nor could they even sense what would happen to them the minute she carried out her plan to plunge her lightsaber straight through their heart.

Val couldn’t see where she was, but he could sense her power building…her sick enjoyment in the suffering of others. Behind the blindfold Val tried to figure out what she was up to, first stretching his thoughts to Corrie. Delighted for a moment, Val could tell she was free of the spell Cire had placed upon her, sending her a telepathic word of encouragement.

VAL – (telepathic) Corrie…I see you’re still ticking

CORRIE – (telepathic) Take off your blindfold Val…and I mean ASAP.

VAL – (telepathic) Why? If I do that I’ll be vulnerable again.

Corrie watches Agen’s motions closing in on the one of a kind, decorative element in Cire’s room. Agen was one cold hearted being all right, right down to her genetically produced blood. She wasn’t trying to attack Val anymore because she was on a direct interception course with her lightsaber poised, straight into…Sara’s block.

CORRIE- SHE’S TRYING TO KILL OFF YOUR SISTER VAL! FIND ANOTHER WAY! HELP HER!

VAL – (enraged) WHAT!

Something inside Val snaps as he tears off the blindfold, bringing his blade up in a highly aggressive Form “V” manner, running across the floor as Agen’s purple blade recoils back and up, as Val in blinding speed and determination parries her blade away from the carbonite tomb holding Isis, causing Agen’s blade to slide along the metal and melt a layer of the metal away, but not enough to reach Sara’s body, Val’s emotions get the best of him and the dark side buried down deep, itching for a weakness in his mental barriers springs forth and spreads through his body like wildfire, fueling his hatred towards Agen. There was one last line Agen had to cross to unlock Val’s darker persona and messing with his last blood relative was it.

VAL – (screaming in rage) GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SISTER YOU GENETIC FREAK!

Val’s eyes glaze over and turn bright red as his hair whips around him, caught in an invisible wind as his blade literally shears clean through the floor leaving a widened canyon in the surface. The blade is unrelenting as its sky blue path finds its way directly under Agen’s purple blade, causing her to use a two handed grip to stabilize it. Val’s screaming fury sends shivers down Corrie’s spin as for the first time ever he sees her straight out uppercut Agen square in the jaw, with such intensity and hatred, she flies into the air and lands against the wall slumping to the floor. Akin to Agen tossing Val around before it was now Val on the full assault, casting Agen by her shirt into anything he can find, tossing her face first into walls and to the floor as his saber blazed along his side.

Val’s fists cracked another blow into Agen’s ribs as she struggled to maintain a grip on her lightsaber. Cire glanced in both delight and fear as Val unleashed his dark side rage upon his wife. Cire wanted Val to snap but he never thought it would actually happen. As Cire tried to descend his thrown Val spun around detecting him, stretching out one hand to unleash one of his most staggering attacks…the bolt of hatred.

Cire is caught on the receiving end as Val slams Agen into a wall, and lets her go, turning around to focus his outstretched hand towards Cire. All to well Cire knows this tactic but the blinding crimson light that erupts from Val’s hand like a flamethrower instantly hurls not only Cire back hard into his throne room wall but also completely shattered the twin fire pits sitting along his chair, shattering the iron construction into a deadly shower of shrapnel. Cire is forced to leap through a doorway along the right side of his dais as the wall of fire and white-hot pieces of metal completely level his dais’s floor, walls, drapery, and machinery to the ground in a hellish ball of sizzling fire and smoke.

Val is surprised to see as the smoke clears that Cire’s chair remains in tact. A energy shield set to sustain the blast from a turbolaser keeping his equipment from being reduced to ashes in the wake of Val’s purely raged barrage. Val’s eyes sharply race back towards Agen as she frantically slams her lightsaber blade into his own as they lock once again.

This time Val glares point blank in Agen’s hypnotic eyes, no longer affected by love or emotion…to him she is nothing more then another assassin about to meet her end by his hand. Val’s face is contorted to the extent his eyebrows are completely arched, his eyes blazing with blood red intensity as the duel of sabers racing back and forth continues to build in flashing strobes of blue and violet radiance.

VAL – (yelling to Agen) QUIT TRYING TO HIT ME AGEN AND HIT ME!

AGEN – I’M TRYING!

VAL – TRY HARDER!

Val sends a brutal side swipe to Agen’s blade in which she barely is able to recover, using her dark side powers and her force attuned advantages to maintain her focus, though clearly she knew she wasn’t facing the Valaryc Versai everyone knew…she was now facing a demon who had awakened.

VAL – THIS IS WHAT YOU ALL WANTED ISN’T IT AGEN! WHAT’S THE MATTER YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A FIGHTER, DID YOU TAKE ON MORE THEN YOU CAN HANDLE!

AGEN – (pleads) STOP! I CAN’T KEEP UP WITH THIS…I GIVE UP!

VAL – YOU’RE PAST THAT HOPE NOW AGEN…YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND HAVE CROSSED THE LAST BARRIER HOLDING MY UNRELENTING RAGE AGAINST YOU. YOU HAVE TAKEN MY FRIENDS LIVES, YOU HAVE DESECRATED THE MEMORIES OF MY LOST LOVE AND ON TOP OF ALL THAT NO ONE MESSES WITH MY SISTER!

Corrie tries to break though the wall of rage that was taken over Val’s mind, trying to reach the man that she knows to salvage his humanity, knowing full well the longer a person travels down the dark path the more it will forge their destiny. She didn’t want Val to fall into darkness like so many others, even if the dark side could be used to finish this war with Cire and his Mother, his soul was not worth the price.

CORRIE – (telepathic) NO VAL! STOP THIS! IT CAN’T END THIS WAY! YOU CAN’T LET HER AND CIRE BE RIGHT! SNAP OUT OF IT! TURN BACK!

VAL – (telepathic) IT’S TOO LATE CORRIE, THIS MADNESS ENDS NOW! I’M TIRED OF PLAYING THEIR GAME, I HAVE THE POWER NOW, I CAN FINISH THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!

CORRIE – (telepathic) DON’T YOU SEE THIS IS WHAT DESTROYED THE T’NEGUN FAMILY! POWER…HATE…THE DARK SIDE! DO YOU WANT THE VERSAI TO SUFFER THE SAME? IF YOU STRIKE HER DOWN LIKE THIS YOU’LL BE LOST TO ITS GRIP!

Val glares towards Agen, as her eyes quiver in terror. Val’s blade sending another powerful upwards cut so effective it rivals Form VII in its cutting arch. Gen’s lightsaber is hurled from her grasp as the blade slides back into the shroud, the weapon tinkering along the floor landing to the far right of Val’s feral approach. Val’s posture mimics Agen’s stalk as she approached him on the receiving end of her aggressive hatred. Realizing this, seeing the image in his mind…somewhere deep down the noble side of Val struggles to take control back from his darker persona as his eyes s flicker back and forth from the crimson red glare of the demon to the honorable visage brown of his true self.

CORRIE – (telepathic) Please Val! Listen to me…fight it! She deserves to die but not like this…You once told me to “defy your destiny” listen to your own words…come back!

Val’s eyes flicker in conflict as he looks to Obi Wan’s sky blue lightsaber, the point of the blade settled along Agen’s throat as she slumps helplessly against the wall, her hand outstretched begging for mercy.

AGEN – Please…I…I…don’t want…to die.

VAL – (growls) TOUGH!

Inside Val’s psyche he bursts through a mental wall into in to the drivers seat to his body, wrapping his hands around the demon behind the controls, he casts his into a lake of fire that is the deepest, darkest part of his subconscious mind, throwing him back into the prison that was wrapped its blazing chains around the dark side within him for years…in this moment as Val’s blade plunges towards Agen’s throat, Val takes over his actions and deflects the blade so that it moves to plunge into the wall with little resistance over Agen’s shoulder as she screams out expecting the blade to plunge into her throat.

VAL – (speaking to the dark side within) I won’t…won’t let…you win.

Corrie breaths a heavy sigh of relief, still upholding her “slave” posture as she sees her friend remerge from a heavy battle with his dark side tendencies and his own Versai Creed, the latter coming out on top. Val glares down towards Agen his eyes returning to brown and the frenzy of his hair fading away as his locks cascade along his shoulders, awaiting her next movement, as she lies before him motionless, her jaw dropped in utter shock, out of her mind for the moment…shell shocked.