One month later…
 

INTERIOR: VERSAI TECH – TOWER ONE - METAL SHOP

While Skel plans the stages to his final betrayal to Jenner’s dictatorship. Elsewhere, returning back into the hexagonal, dimly overhead light interiors of Versai Tech’s lower decks, specifically the higher levels of Tower One, the scene unveils into a vast room filled with various kinds of metal working and custom fabrication equipment. Piles of metal lay stacked in shelving while pipes, bolts, nuts, and screws are divided into separate wells, lining a table to the far south of the room. Inside this place, there are several heavy duty metal cutters, some are traditional like hand operated corusca plated saws, while there are also advanced rows of endless laser cutters that can shear metal in almost any desired way possible. Likewise lined along the left side of the room are selections of wielding rods that one can use on their own with hands or if so desired, encased areas where droids can apply the wielding for whatever job needs to be carried through to completion.

In this sparsely lit interior, our attention is drawn to a series of sparks flying from the further south corner of the room. Here we can see that there is a spinning metallic wheel usually used to sharpen swords in operation, while a slim legged, wide hipped individual looms over the spinning device. In its hand is a sharp looking instrument, fashioned from a nearby sheet of metal being ground down to perfection. The instrument, or rather a fabricated unit is curved smoothly but in the center of its menacing sweeping arch that comes to a point then sweeps inward and back is a die cut area of this claw like piece of fashioned steel. Although we cannot see who the figure is because their face is shielded by a wielders mask, similar to that of a blast shield helmet design, we can tell that they are dressed in dark black clothes and are at the moment wearing thick brown gloves as they handle the metal bit, and expertly slide the claw along the sharpening stone, so another ray of white hot sparks flies off away from the viewing port of the mask.

The figure sets down the finished work, running its gloved fingers over the inner edge of the metal piece, then picks up another identical part and repeats the sharpening process. Moving from the tall, slender figure which is obviously a woman from the smooth, inviting curves of her swelled, sweat glistening breasts we can also tell that she is incredibly skilled in her craftsmanship, shifting our eyes over to a table not too distanced from her where several mechanisms lay out, evenly spread upon a tan cloth. Moving from the left to the right we can see various pieces of small semiconductor equipment and freshly soldered wiring where wisps of smoke still swirl. There is an endcap with several long, thin triangular slivers of metal wielded to it. Spread evenly also there are two halved sections of casing that possess what looks to be rings of steel banded around a central black shell with two distinctive oval bevels running down each section. Where the bevels travel, the rings of steel are broken, but smoothed over.

The entire casing isn’t all even however, as about just beyond midway of the metal pieces there is a oval die cut paneling, where for the moment there is nothing under the grid like pattern that resembles the inner lit wall panels of the Death Star corridors. Lying from the two halves, there is an emitter shroud already assembled, but it looks to be a slightly slimmer cylinder then the body of the device in construction. There are sections of the tube with black markings, indication like the pieces of a puzzle where these other units will assemble. Traveling along the table, there are three buttons and a knurled dial as well. Each has not been installed yet, by the loose dangling miniature wires emerging from the bottom of the pieces. Not too far beyond those is another cylindrical device, wider then the rest of the contraptions, which looks to be some sort of clamping ring device with slivers of silver running down a band of black anodized steel.

Slowly the figure reaches from the emitter unit and draws it into her gloved hand as she steps away from the metal grinder, removing her foot from a petal causing the wheel to gradually come to a complete, high pitched stop. It is only then that we see as the gloved hand not holding the emitter draw back the helmet completely off of her, spilling out locks of purple and pink, so dazzling and radiant it seems to be the most intense focus of brilliance in the room, save for her glistening gem-bright purple eyes gazing to her handiwork It was obvious that Gen Zeridian was in the process of creating what would become the next pivotal chapter of her new life, starting with her new-fangled lightsaber.

Gen’s thoughts began to flash back to the events of the last month since her epic showdown with Skorne. Her eyes narrowed as she could not wrench free from her mind how easily her first weapon was dispatched. It was clear to her no longer being in control she needed to learn of this new world and its technological advantages…she was alone in room for the moment only because after they awoke, Val still was not fully recovered from his comatose state.

It was pure love and determination that allowed Val to escape from the Dreamscape once and for all, shattering the spell of the six month darkness, however once he entered the real world and not his fabricated version of it he also became vulnerable to its physical effects. Val has used the force, although very limited to tear his body free of the medical equipment in his room and go to the source of Gen’s signature, weaving and stumbling very slowly down hallways and lifts, fighting to keep his muscles in motion, contending with the atrophied effects of being immobile for an extended period of time. When he saw her and embraced her, fully with his own eyes and felt her skin with his sense of touch, his body gave out before his heart ever would and he collapsed.

During this month Val was not back in his coma, he was determined to fight off the effects of mortality and reclaim his life, day by day. Gen watched over him as he went through advanced rehabilitation and physical therapy sessions. She remembers one moment when Val was confined to a wheelchair and in response Val threw himself out of it, slammed the chair in a wall and dragged himself under his own stubborn will down the hallway day after day until he forcefully managed to get his muscles to work in the most insane method possible…he used force lightning on himself, jolting his muscles to respond and twitch. It didn’t heal him spontaneously but it did after a fair amount of suffering, give him enough mobility to ditch the chair and walk with crutches, and eventually only a cane.

Currently Val had put himself through a method of training so intense, that the doctors inside VT kept close eye on him. They advised that Val should take it easy and let his body recover in a period of three or four months, but Val was bound and determined to show that no matter what price he was the best and he would remain the best against all oppression foreign and domestic. That was one trait that Gen adored every time she gazed into his deep brown eyes, his undying will to defy his destiny…to always find a way over anything put in his path, from enemies to injury to even losing his lover. That degree of devotion and determination is what kept Val alive and eventually it is what allowed Gen to return to him. She stayed by his side for the first two weeks, but upon the conclusion of the second week, Val insisted that Gen leave him be until he was well enough to come to her again…he wanted to know nothing of his six month absence, only wanting to focus on getting his body back into shape. He knew he could never reach his full potential in a month but he damn sure would never accept being a less of a man either in combat or in bed.

This is what has led us to this moment, a month later. After Val exiled her from his side…possibly for her own good although she questioned his judgment at the time Gen began to demand everything she could get her hands on to study the new workings of technology in Versai Tech. She asked staff to show her how everything worked and explain their function in full detail. If they could not provide her with a specific answer to her questions, she took it upon herself to find manuals and discover the answers for herself. She was also terribly independent. Gen absorbed vast amounts of technological babble that would put most people to sleep or make most aspiring employees give up their goals. Gen’s goal was to learn of this technology and incorporate it into her methods and bend its uses to her will to retain her place as Master of her domain.

This is what explains her actions in this metal shop. She is fabricating a new lightsaber from the ground up. She researched the materials that VT had in its warehouses and had the elements sent for this very purpose. She scanned technical files on swords and weaponry in the ships databanks to pick out the most effective and unique approach to supersede her previous model.

Still she also kept her original portions of her newest creation in tact. The shroud would still have a “claw” but in this new model there would be some differences. The claws were wider and thicker metal, with slight die cuts running inside the center of the pieces to give a more menacing look to her overall saber appearance. With a wider expansion of the clawed metal units, she would also be able to use her weapon as a stabbing device if need be, where she had make sure the inner edges of the claws were honed to a sharpened rim. The overall color scheme was also fairly consistent but she also found the polished ruby red ignition switch, oval in fact much more suiting of a warrior, then the usual overly clunky box designed ignition plates of the past.

This new saber model had the most advanced grip possible, giving her maximum efficiency in spinning the hilt from one direction to the other in a blink of an eye. Her Form G skills were as crisp and sharp as ever now, using Val’s father’s lightsaber, the emerald green one to practice her duelist techniques outside in Versai Tech’s main courtyard.

She longed to hold Val in her arms again once he was ready to unveil himself to her. She occupied that longing with her endless study and craftsmanship of this lightsaber. The split ring grip was the most labor intensive of the process while she found fashioning the metal claws quite exhilarating, seeing her razor sharp temperament personality reflecting in the chrome plated mechanisms. Reaching for a wielding torch, she engages the device in a burst of ion blue light, adjusting the torch to a narrowed beam. The claws of her emitter shroud were now held in place with a temporary epoxy surrounding the marked slits around the base of the main metal cylinder, and little by little she wielding each piece into a permanent bond, until all of the claws were fixed into position, blowing on the heated metal lines until they cooled over and set.

A few moments passed and the saber began to take form, as the buttons were properly wired into the conductor unit, and the power cell was slipped into positing at the base of the saber, and the wielding lines had been smoothed over and buffed to a brilliant chrome finish. There was one task left to do that transcended all of the technological wonders that aided her weapon’s design.

All the equipment in here could do was fashion a very impressive paperweight. This was where the true skill of a force user and more importantly a Master came into play; the cutting of the Adegen crystals. Gen had managed to order some specialty crystals, but she wasn’t too happy hearing that the only crystals she could acquire were the bland colors of red, green, and blue.

She had chosen the blue crystals, figuring that green as too Jedi happy and red simply was not her style. She was a Dark Jedi, not a Sith nor would she ever allow herself to become some mindless, although highly skilled lapdog to a Sith Master like Darth Maul was at one time…a bulldog of a fighter but a slave none the less. Dark Jedi trained as students but they graduated as free people…they were not bound to kowtow to anyone’s orders unless they chose to do so. Gen had to report to Ras Krueger on occasion but that was because she was an instructor, not a student. She had an occupation not just a learned skill. Any student who trained at the Dark Jedi Academy and had attained masterhood could choose to leave and pursue their goals of their own free will.

Gen slide the crystals into their proper place and adjusted their alignment with some specialized tools she had found in one of Val’s old storage lockers, tools so ancient and unique that they were no longer available as common tools but very pricy antiques. Sliding in the power cell into the saber hilt, and sliding in the central tube that slide within the “broken ring” casing, placed together as two halves now, all that was left was for Gen to screw on her end cap over a series of threads at the base of the two halves.

Minutes later, checking over the diagnostics of her new weapon, Gen took a few steps away from the equipment around her, pacing to a more vacant area of the room, and ignited her lightsaber. With a SNAP-HISS an ice blue beam of light emerged from the slumbering claw shroud and Gen swung the blade in arches, trying to get a feel for the balance of the saber. Her eyes widened as she felt the ease of her movements flow rhythmically in sync with her Form G duelist techniques. The weapon was marvelous and graceful, yet menacing to the eye…well almost. Gen was exceptionally pleased with her weapon’s performance and superior grip and slight of hand abilities but it lacked something very dear to her heart…it lacked the image of her unique traits.

The blade wasn’t purple…

Ice blue was nice and all but Gen didn’t like the idea of being associated with a Jedi’s beam, such as Obi Wan or Anakin, nor did he like the idea of being associated with a green beam that Luke or Qui Gon would wield. Those colors were so overused, but she didn’t have a choice in the matter, blue and green were her only options or where they?

A voice all too familiar spoke from the furthered corner of the room, stepping through two doors that slide open with a rush of hydraulic air.

VOICE – (snickers) Wow you know you with that pretty blue blade you could give Aayla Secura a run for her money…then again she has two “tails”. (Val’s slang for Twi’lek headgear)

Gen grins widely, but keeps her expression hidden, knowing who would dare to make such a vile connection between her and the Jedi. Calmly running a finger through her lavender locks and down, encircling her hips, sliding her fingers across then between her rear globes, she slowly looks over her shoulder seductively replying to Val’s remark.

GEN – Keep that up Beloved and the only “tail” you’re going to see is what’s trapped in that warped head of yours.

Val, standing valiantly at the edge of the doorframe enters the room fully, dressed up in a plain black turtleneck, sleeveless of course and a pair of black pants, with his signature oval-blue utility belt wrapped around his waist and his knee high black boots with a newer version of the “Versai Crest” incorporated in their design, where the signature double “V” extends down, but in lue of a ring of gold, the extensions of the “V” shape form a band of gold that wrapped around and disappears behind the circumference of the boots.

VAL – (looks down) Aww, and I was going to give you a present too. Oh well guess I’ll go back up and take a nap then. Have fun!

Val turns around as Gen flicks off her saber and clips it to a covertec clip device along her belt, racing to her love as he turns his back and begins to walk out the door, grabbing him by his waist and spinning him around with such force she jerks him forward, then slams his back hard against the wall locking her lips onto his as his eyes widen in surprise, then a gentle purr rumbles from his chest, weaving his hands through Gen’s vibrant purple-pink strands.

Gen slowly begins to break the kiss, smiling brightly into Val’s shimmering brown eyes as she keeps him pinned against the wall with the firm swell of her breasts, crushed against his chest.

GEN – You arrogant, self righteous, cocky, stubborn, irresistibly sexy, noble…captivating male. I have missed you so, so, very much.

VAL – (soothing words) I have waited an eternity to hear your voice and feel your touch. You captivate my soul with your very presence my sweet violet gem. But I couldn’t let you see me the way I was…weak and vulnerable. You are a warrior my precious Loved One and you deserve to embrace nothing less then a fully capable man to quench your every desire.

GEN – (purrs) Ummmm you have such a way with words Beloved. Before this goes any further you mentioned a gift did you not? I have one for too, but you’ll obtain it only when I’m sure you can handle it.

VAL – But, but, I want it now! I want others to see oooooooooh that gift. (smirks)

Gen whaps Val on his forehead, then pulls away, swaying her hips as she walks back over to the table, pulling her lightsaber hilt from her side, laying it on the tanned surface, unscrewing the endcap, then slowly with a gentle swish, frees the main crystal tube from its encasement.

Val walks up alongside Gen and sets down a brown, suede leather pouch with a light tan drawstring on the table, as he works his own seductive spell over her. Gen of course possessed the equipment any many would kill for but then again Val also knew Gen wasn’t the only one who could tease either. Val smirked broadly as he watched Gen slide in the green crystals into her lightsaber, and once again replace the endcap and walk to the middle of the room, engaging the weapon knowing her skilled were as sharp as ever, more smoothly honed then any Padawan’s costly mistakes and that her saber would not misfire nor explode under her guidance.

Gen gazes into the emerald green shaft of light, emitted from her weapon’s mouth and once again proceeds to practice her Form G graceful movements as Val licks his lips watching her hips rhythmically gyrate from one direction to the other. Her saber sweeps into spinning 180 to 360 degree arches and as her foot pivots, Gen’s flashing purple eyes glisten to life, tracking the cascading aura of green that fans outward with electronic hums. She then stops her motions and looks down towards the green blade. Her eyes pass over the shimmering luminance as she has flashbacks of Agen wielding her weapon, about to strike Val down in his most vulnerable state. Her thoughts then shift back to that long…endless flight back to one of VT’s fleet ships carrying Val’s unconscious body. She remembered after he was all fixed up with wires and monitoring equipment how he looked like a trapped lab experiment, stuck in the walls of his coma induced prison.

Gen slowly closed her eyes then opened them, hearing some sort of sarcastic quip come from Val that she didn’t quite catch. She took in a deep breath and purged the horrible memories of the past, as she focused upon her future. The time had passed now and Val was free to return to her embrace once more.

VAL – (repeats) I said what the hell is wrong with green? My father and Sister use it!

GEN – (surprised) Huh? What? Oh…nothing I suppose it just doesn’t seem to fit. I don’t know I really dislike red but I don’t see another option.

Gen returns to the table and unscrews her saber open again, pulling out the green crystals and reaching for the red ones. Val slowly slides his fingers over her tapered digits and cautions her to wait and listen to him. His eyes gaze comforting into Gen’s gem-bright violet pools.

VAL – No no…My Loved One isn’t going to have to sacrifice her uniqueness if I have anything to say about it. I’ve brought you a very special gift that I know you’re gonna love. You can “thank” me properly later. (winks)

GEN – Now see here! Wait one damn minute Val if you think I’m going to be placed into debt with you! You’re…(cut off)

Val purrs and quickly draws up the leather pouch and empties the contents onto the table, where there are three vibrant, faceted purplish-blue crystals that slide along the tan clothed surface of the table like the rippling of raindrops, so intense and colorful they wash the metal reflections of the table’s surface in hues of violet and deep blues.

GEN – (gasping) Absolutely wonderful…

Val smiles warmly, opening up Gen’s hand, laying her palm on the table, placing each gem into the center of it, keeping his fingers along her own, rolling them forward giving her a heated kiss on her moist, full lips.

VAL – They’re yours baby, always have been. These are a very, very, rare form of Luminex crystals that grow on my world, Alpha Xeridia. Normally these crystals are yellowish, which is why one of my lightsabers has a golden blade. But these ones I found while deep diving in the Stargazer Sea. Submerged in the bottom of it, I found these crystals reflecting off my underwater lamp. I deduced that the darker depths turned the crystals this deep purplish-blue because these crystals have never seen sunlight.

GEN – (breaths softly) They’re breath taking…but I know they’re not grown this way, the facets are too smooth and precise.

VAL – (smiles) Oh course not. After I took them to the surface, the thought had dawned on me that I might need to replace the crystals in your personal lightsaber with newer, more improved ones. Twenty-five years without an upgrade is a long time. Fate it seemed is not without a sense of irony is it? If I had had the chance to replace the gems, you wouldn’t be here.

Gen closes her eyes a moment, then absorbs the feelings of the crystals. Through the force and postcognition she can see Val working hard on each facet of the gems in some enclosed room she hasn’t seen before. Sitting across a table is a portrait of Gen. She can feel sadness when she runs her fingers over the crystalline shafts, the pain that Val must have felt in her absence. That ache so deep down inside, she almost sheds a tear from the emotional power of the vision. This gives her any evidence she might need and purges any wonder if Val still cared for her as much as he did back then, twenty-five years ago. These feelings of longing and love so strong that he never took another lover, hoping above all “logical” reasoning for this very moment, when he could place the new crystals into her hand and look to the expression in her eyes.

VAL – Well go on sweetness, don’t keep me waiting here in suspense! Slide those puppies in, turn it on and let me see those hips shake!

GEN – (smirks) Eager…always the eager one.

VAL – (smacks Gen’s butt) I’ve never heard you complain.

Gen grins and stands up, pushing herself away from Val, walking back into the area where she tests the other crystals, grinning like a cheshire cat as she ignites the oval activator and purrs happily as a beam of purple-blue extends from her lightsaber shroud the way it should be, although the blue is a bit deeper it is purple, her favorite color none the less.

GEN – (pointing her saber to Val) Oh you’re going to get it soooooo bad later dearest.

VAL – (winks) I’ve been recovered for three days now, do your worst.

GEN – (purrs) I hope your ribs are feeling better then last time.

VAL – Hey now that wasn’t even my fault!

Gen winks to Val giving him a clear indication of their first “intimate embrace” within her quarters when Val’s ribs were injured against Crymson Vachon. the vibrant vixen begins venturing into her harmonious Form G movements. The saber sways and hums vibrantly and smoothly, as if Gen never lost her cherished possession. The details of her battle with Skorne still haunted her thoughts, but now…a month later she had invested her time wisely and building a new lightsaber was but one portion of her plan to turn the tables on him, next time they cross paths. He had the superb advantage of technology to aid him, but she was still no match for her duelist skills with a lightsaber. Gen had invested a great deal of time in arranging her own private section of “Research and Development” where her hand selected staff were toiling endlessly to create a device small enough to be placed in the palm of her hand, but powerful enough to bring a bounty hunter to his knees.

Val gazed to every contour of Gen’s supple body. Sure there was undying lust to ravish her until he could no longer move but his love for her was not purely sexual. His eyes traced over the cascading locks of her hair as he watched her pivot on the balls of her feet, swinging at invisible targets, imagining perhaps she was locked in battle with her oldest nemesis Elixis, long dead now along with the Shadow Guild, or maybe it was Crymson. Val didn’t know the particulars of the invasion upon Adega, leaving his sister and trusted friend in shambles, all he knew for the moment was some intruder dared to mess with not only his family but his girlfriend as well, one day soon Val would cross paths with him and make him pay for his transgressions.

Gen kept Val in a proper balance you see, beyond the seduction quenching his desire for female companionship; she was the catalyst to his very persona. When she died, he became shattered and alone…when he found Krevlin, he unleashed his vengeance but the pain didn’t die, and he once again lost his purpose. It was the realization that some day, some how Gen might return and the oath that no one would suffer as he did before if he could help it, that forged Val into the noble legend he became in the eyes of the people he saved. He single handedly prevented the end of family bloodlines and diverted possible massacres. Val had acquired respect and redemption for his actions as the “Jedi Slayer” both to himself and some of the victims of the attack. You cannot kill twenty-five people in one night and expect never to hear from their family again.

At first he was hated, kicked around and hunted but over time his deeds outweighed the actions of his past. Val had sworn he would never allow the Jedi Slayer side of him to surface again; to do so would bring harm to all those around him. Gen was the key to keeping this side of him at bay. After he butchered the Jedi and freed Gen from being burned alive…a detail that Foe left out and Val omitted to those who inquired about the incident, Val no longer needed to fuel his rage, anger, and hatred…it wasn’t morally right but despite his choices, he did eradicate the problem and return back to his former self once Gen was free.

She was his greatest sense of balance but with that she could also be his greatest weakness. Val had friends now, he wasn’t a lone warrior like he was in the Dark Jedi Academy, save for his companionship with Foe. Val now had something to lose, this is why he couldn’t allow himself to revert back into his darker persona and unleash hell on anyone who sparked his wrath. He kept his anger in check, he knew how close to edge he could get before there was that point of entrapment where there would be no turning back. Had Gen been burned alive and killed by Crystarr, Val would have remained a vicious monster, driven by pain and anger…rage and hatred. It was the solitude that would spark the change you see, the fear of being alone and losing his balance. Gen completed Val, even in her absence she was his inspiration for living and winning any battle that came his way, likewise also his reason to save the lives of people he had never known for the sake of sparring them the fate that rested upon his troubled brow.

Gen is the key to Val’s stability, if she is lost there is no telling what pit Val might fall within and without her to pull him out of the darkness…what beast might replace his face. Lifting a finger, Val signals Gen to extinguish her lightsaber, as he takes her hand in his.

VAL – Baby I think its time we take a trip.

GEN – (quirks a brow) A trip? Where? Now? Are you sure you’re ready?

Val begins to pace with Gen, led by the hand out of the room, roaming down a series of corridors reaching for a comlink speaking into it.

VAL – (comlink) Marc Jade are you there?

Marc in his office somewhere in Tower Two replies to Val’s inquiry. He is dressed in very much the same attire as Lance Jade, with the signature purple attire and gold bands along his cuffs with the Versai Tech insignia upon his breast, as he adjusts his suit, turning around to face his desk, pushing a button on a small speaker device.

MARC – Sir is that you? I’m here.

VAL – (comlink) Yes Marcus its Val and no this isn’t some sort of joke. It’s been a month of hard work and endless rehabilitation. I’ve grown tired of these walls my friend; I think its time for me to go back where I truly belong.

MARC – I understand Sir but you are the CEO and Lance Jade isn’t in the condition to handle our business affairs right now, you have to assume your role as leader of this company to maintain its integrity, you must realize this.

VAL – (takes a deep breath) Lance is incapacitated?  Well in spite of that I’m not fully recovered just yet to handle such stressful measures so therefore until I return you are left as temporary Vice President of VT.

MARC – (Stutters) M….M…Me Sir? I command fleets; I’m not the proper man to handle a desk job!

VAL – Then I suggest you find a compromise somewhere Marc, that’s a direct order. See that a MARC is fueled and ready for take off, I’m returning back to Alpha Xeridia, we can discuss this matter later.

MARC – (takes a deep breath) Very well Master Versai, I will find a viable solution. Your vessel is being prepped as we speak, proceed to Docking Bay 0118.

VAL – (smiles towards Gen) Thank you Marc, I know you’re the best choice for Versai Tech right now, I’ve much to catch up on and I miss my mansion.

Gen tugs on Val’s hand and looks deep into his eyes with a curious look on her face.

GEN – To what destination are we heading to dearest?

Val smiles to Gen, then replaces his comlink on his belt, kissing Gen on the lips soothingly to ease her unsettled nerves.

VAL – Home baby…home.

Gen kisses Val lovingly then intertwines her fingers into his, nodding slowly in approval as Val spins on his heel and makes his way briskly down a set of stairs, through a few different entryways and eventually outside the entrance to Hanger Bay 0118, where as the doors slide open, a glittering MARC is revealed, painted a rich crimson red with gold electrum detailing, and the Versai Crests shimmering proudly along its forward wings. Gen’s eyes are filled with wonder, looking over the luxurious but still very much a war cruiser craft having only seen TIES and Lambda shuttles in her earlier years and the massive wedges of ISDs with their dull color schemes of gray and clamshell blue interiors.

Val and Gen slowly approach the ramp and board the vessel. Moments later, after they have settled inside the battle cruiser’s redecorated, comfortable interior, Val finds his way to the cockpit and adjusts the autopilot, setting in the top secret coordinates of Alpha Xeridia, deep in Wild Space.

VAL – Hang on kitten, strap yourself in, this is where the ride gets a bit rough.

The vessel’s engines flare to life then lift the cruiser up and second later, zoom far off skyward, disappearing in the horizon.
 

INTERIOR:  KILLIAN STRONGHOLD– JENNER’S THRONE ROOM

The night air sweeps along the cloudy, fog covered surface of The Killian’s secondary home world. The scene once again unfolds inside the hallowed recesses of Jenner’s Throne Room where he lays sleeping soundly upon his throne, his red eye closed like any normal eye would. Entering for a secret panel to Jenner’s far left, along the dais mirroring the same inner workings as Quillion’s final throne room is Skel, very slowly…very stealth like creeping beyond Jenner, reaching the right side of the dais. His reptilian eye narrows to a slender black iris as it slowly flares open spotting his prey.

Having chosen to align with a greater power, Skel knew he had to swiftly put his superior’s plan into action and it all started ironically enough with the very symbol of Jenner’s rulership…Quillion’s Sith Sword. Skel clutched one of the fake versions of Quillion’s sword in his good hand, the other still a stump but no longer wrapped up as the month has allowed the extension to heal over. You might be pondering exactly why doesn’t Skel have a new mechanized arm like Jenner? The answer lies in the difference in species. Jenner was for the most part human, as were Luke and Anakin. When they lost a limb it was replaced with bionics, but Skel was not human he was a Ssi Ru. Such specialized equipment had never been thoroughly explored by the Ssi Ruukk. They didn’t have the notion of replaceable limbs in their technological advances and The Killian was still very much made up of rogue force users and the drones that upon succession at the Citadel arrived on this planet to properly restock The Killian forces, although Quillion himself never returned.

The drones didn’t prove too competent however, flawed in their design and soon they dwindled to only the best replicates remaining. Of the drones that perished after a certain period of time, Skel used their biological components to investigate how to improve the lifespan and most importantly the growth rate of a cloned soldier. Does Gen being a clone suffer from this same problem though? No, Agen and Gen’s clones were highly researched and brought to the apex of perfection, save for the long growth period it took for them to reach twenty-fives old, and be implanted (Agen) with saber know how and selective memories. Gen’s spirit was the difference between a puppet and a living being. Agen was a puppet, programmed from her creation to take orders and remain loyalty to Cire, servicing any of his carnal needs. Gen’s spirit contained what made her real…the ability of choice.

Drones and clones have no will of their own, they take orders without question and follow whomever is in the position of power, Gen was her own unique being, she only took orders when she chose to do so, likewise she only allowed others to touch her when she chose to let them do it. Cire couldn’t take advantage of her sexually; she would shatter his prized jewels the moment he tried to lay a finger on her. Agen however had no choice, nor did she possess much desire. She was a slave and a servant, nothing more.

So then we return to why Skel is sneaking around. His plan would involve similar circumstances as he loomed closer and closer to the authentic handle of Quillion’s sword. He knew if he pulled it free now an alarm would sound and his actions would be met with swift death. This is why he had to get closer to Jenner, still sleeping but would be outraged if he were disturbed. Keeping his iris narrowed on Jenner’s metallic face, noting that the hood of his robe was drawn up to hide the features of his human characteristics, Skel tapped a few buttons on his arm chair.

Each click sounded like a bomb being dropped as Skel kept himself ready to dash into the shadows should Jenner move or awaken. Holding his breath he tapped in the last command, as a clink resounded from the bolted magnetic unit affixed to the floor, holding Quillion’s Sith Sword erect, the weapon sunk back slightly, becoming free from the magnetic seal.

Skel kept his eyes glued on Jenner’s face as he set down the decoy sword and reached for the authentic one. The sharpened edges of the blade scrapped along the metal near the tip as Skel dropped his grip and ducked into a curtain, watching Jenner shift in his throne, then settle. Skel waited a few moments then resumed his actions, sliding the authentic sword free, then swiftly, tossing it down on a cloak to absorb the impact of the fall, landing with a soft tuft of shifted cloth, replaced the decoy sword into the magnetic clamp which five seconds later reactivated with a electronic whine, a clang echoing as the blade became erect as it was before, to the naked eye appearing as if the true sword had never been removed.

Skel glared towards Jenner, then smiled broadly, flashing his razor sharp teeth as he wrapped his clawed hand around the hilt of his former Master’s sword. The power was immense; he could feel the energy of leadership and the dark side energy, sensing it mind you but not using it as he embraced the golden rimmed handle, tracing the red jewel on the end with his lower thumb.

Knowing he had to act quickly however, Skel made his way back through the secret entrance to the left, entering a flight of stairs that spiral downward, reaching a unmarked wall panel then pushing it forward, stepping into another room, as a portrait of Cire dressed as Quillion slide back into place.
 

INTERIOR:  KILLIAN STRONGHOLD– PORTRIAT HALL

Cire looked passionate in the portrait, he had his sword planted blade first into the ground, resting his palm across the pummel as he had one foot forward and one foot back, his silver mask casting the fires of two torches raging behind him in a portrait that resembled a Rembrandt approach, dramatic lighting on a pitch black canvas.

Skel cast a momentary glance to his “trusted” leader and then paced down the hallway. His thoughts lingered if his choice was the right one, knowing that once he set this plan into motion he would have to contend with the consequences of change. Exchange one evil leader for another one? Did it even make sense? To Skel it did because it was all he knew, he didn’t have goals to reach for. Aside from exercising his creativity through his interior designs and keeping tabs on his prized collection of artifacts from the past, he knew only servitude but he enjoyed the pleasure of having power and leadership, not globally mind you but the status of a General in a bigger battle, rather then the head of it.

Quillion was to him, the most noble of leaders who struck with strategic brilliance and uncanny accuracy. Of course you must understand that Skel was not in Cire’s company long enough to know the kind of vile, treacherous man he truly was. Skel only knew what was shown to him, and in that sense Cire had manipulated Skel into pledging his undying loyalty by finding his price…wanting to be a servant with a reputation, from his extensive personal collection to his status as leader of his Ssi Ru minions, but in the end Skel was no better then any other person in his regime, Cire viewed Skel as a pawn used to attain his selfish desires, and nothing more.
 

INTERIOR:  KILLIAN STRONGHOLD– SKEL’S RELIC ALCOVE

Shifting from the stretch of torches illuminating the hall, Skel enters what he calls his “home”. It’s the one place that Skel can come to surround himself with his precious treasures and a collector’s paradise. If you have ever wondered where relics from the Clone War and Rebellion Era had ended up, long after their original owners had forgotten their existence, this was the place. Jenner had been here, he found Maul’s lightsaber and repaired it after it had sustained damage from Obi Wan’s uppercut back on Naboo. Here in this room there were many objects in black based, transparasteel cases, all hovering in mid air inside their rectangular chambers, while full recovered attire hovered in half cylinder kiosks.

Entering the long, rectangular interior, starting from six to seven steps in, the majesty of this place begins to fill your eyes with wonder and amazement. To the left, housed inside two boxed plastic shells one can see in the first, polished and restored is Exar Kun’s lightsaber. Though it has some severe damage to it, and can no longer function with his dual blade settings, nothing more then a cherished relic now, its very presence transports us back to the times of the ancient Jedi era, the Tales of the Jedi era. Alongside in another case is Nomi Sunrider’s lightsaber as well, authentic in every detail, right down to his pointed, triangular shroud and primitive power chord slots.

Beyond that, surrounding the walls are the following outfits in pristine order but not all are 100% complete housed and hovering inside individual half circle chambers, illuminated by white lights shining upward from the bottom of each cell.

Along the center of the room, are two originally reconstructed pillars from the Jedi Temple, rising from a box structure of beveled paneling. Which supported the roof of the room, as they had once held up the domes of the temple, though in here much shorter and beyond that, along the floor was a recreated floral pattern of leaf like ornamental design, that graced the floor of the main Jedi Council room, accurate in every color and detail but this design was painted on a rotating section of the floor that when activated offers the observer who stands in the center of it, a panoramic view of the entire alcove.

LEFT WALL
(left to right)

1. Ulic Qel Droma’s Attire -  Last known armor from the “Redemption” series, still stained with his blood where the lucky hunter struck him down with his blaster. The plated shoulder pads and ragged, torn remenents of Ulic’s attire although not entirely complete and some of the edges fragile from the hundreds of years of ageing it is an impressive gathering of the ancient Jedi ways long since extinct.

2. Qui Gon Jinn and Darth Maul’s Robe/Cloak – The robe is the same one worn by him at the time of his meeting upon the planet of Naboo with the Gungans. After leaving for Tatoonie, Qui Gon had to switch to another robe before heading into that fateful day in the Theed Hanger, thus this robe was not in fact the one he lost that day, but used regardless. Darth Maul’s cloak however, was the same exact cloak he used to venture into the Theed Hanger, the same article of clothing that he revealed himself for the first time to the Jedi in, showing Obi Wan and Qui Gon his menacing horned appearance. This cloak was gathered up by one of the soldier’s in the taking of Theed’s Palace, and kept as memorabilia where it fell into the hands of a wealthy antiquities dealer who had a passion for Ssi Ru tech, that Skel bargained with to attain both robes in his collection.

3. Full Set of Clone Trooper Armor – This set of armor was recovered from Geonosis when the republic needed to restock their troops, finding it much more efficient to re-arm and re-armor their forces with the equipment of clones no longer able to use it. While it is not known if this suit of Clone Armor was in fact complete with all of its original portions, it is however a full suit, authentic right down to its ground in tan stains from Geonosis’s sandy surface.

RIGHT WALL
(right to left)

1. Obi Wan’s Death Star Robe – Contained inside the cell, was the exact robe that Val left behind on the Death Star, recovered by a cleaner droid and promptly tossed in with the other Imperial garments, the robe had eventually found its way to discovery by an Imperial officer who found favor in its warmth, passing it on to his daughter as a blanket, where after many years it was finally pawned off to merchants.

2. Anakin’s Padawan Attire – Right down to its black leather and near maroon undergarments, this was not the attire that Anakin lost his arm within, but rather a spare set of clothing recovered after the Jedi Temple’s ruins were excavated. This attire was also not complete, missing the brown boots and the brown utility belt, but it still held enough of an appearance to be recognized. Skel really didn’t mind much that this outfit wasn’t entirely whole, for he had a much more valuable treasure to more then make up for it.

3. Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Outfit – Housed and surprisingly complete inside the last cell along the right wall was Luke’s jet black Jedi outfit used in the skiff battle against Jabba the Hutt. This could be determined by the various burns and tears in the fabric, as well as the slightly off black sash that draped over the black, long sleeved turtleneck and pressed black pants. Even the boots were the same, shiny but scuffed fairly badly around the rims of the foot. It was however a piece of Republic history Luke might have wanted to keep at one time, before he shifted to his “Commander” Skywalker Jedi outfit used in the Second Death Star in Palpatine’s throne room.

Skel gazed proudly to his collection, skittering along the polished black floor, passing Nomi and Exar’s lightsaber, casting a glance to two other cases containing Yoda’s gimmer stick used when he was part of the Jedi Council, and surprisingly enough, still worn out and weathered, Val’s very first lightsaber he used against Cire to get his locket back. The same lightsaber with the distinctive orange-red blade, that to him he never saw after the Dark Jedi Council stripped him of all his equipment. How this weapon came into Skel’s possession was simple…kept in his possession after all this time, Cire handed it over to him personally.

These objects alone could demand a king’s ransom but there was two other outfits looming along the center wall of the room, these ones were unquestionable recognized as true icons of the Rebellion Era.

CENTER WALL

1. Darth Vader’s Armor (prototype) – Hovering ominously inside the bottom lit case, Vader’s armor was in pristine condition, but was not in fact complete. It lacked the most recognized portion of its design, Vader’s three piece mask equipment, it also didn’t contain his belt but it did have his breastplate, boots, and body suit. As you can guess its not Vader’s original attire, it’s a prototype suit that was constructed with new found technology, before his final edition was unleashed upon the public, stored deep inside Palpatine’s secured vaults. This could be authenticated because Vader’s boots didn’t have the flared shell motif but a reverse “M” scale like series that draped over the legs, where the boots sweep to a “V” toe cap which was mimicked in the arm gauntlets instead of his black gloves and it still kept the same design for the shoulder pads and chest pieces, even down to the cod piece as well.

2. Leia’s Slave Bikini – You already know the skimpy details of the attire, from the gold encrusted breast plates, down to the scarlet loincloth. All that is know is that after Leia was free from the degrading two piece bikini, Leia had it packed up and shipped as far away from her sight as possible where it ended up on Corerilla in a private collector’s collection who met with a mysterious accident. Skel had arranged for the owner after he was turned down to purchase the attire “legally” to be convinced to hand over the piece to Skel’s guardianship. Needless to say eventually the owner negotiated with a weapon placed between his temples and sworn to complete secrecy in exchange for he, his wife, his daughter, and his son’s lives.

Skel was what you might call a “shrewd” negotiator and he knew how to use his power and his minions well, and at the time Cire let him do as he pleased as long as it did not hinder the construction of The Killian Citadel. He also allowed Skel to seek out his treasures under the warning that if The Killian’s existence was every discovered, Skel himself would not only suffer but everyone who ever knew him.

This is how Skel manages to attain his vast collection, but even with all this as he made his way to the far center wall gazing to Vader’s prototype armor, none of it caught his attention for the time being. Skel was looking to two recesses in the wall, sliding his good finger over an activator as he spoke in his native tongue into a voice box. This of course could ONLY be done by Skel, and no other human not even Jenner or Cire could access the highest prized items in Skel’s collection.

Sliding simultaneously on the left, there is a glass cylinder container housing what appears to be a fragment shard of a pink gem, sealed within the glass tube, when the light hits the edge of it, the entire cylinder glows with a magenta radiance.

The right panel reveals probably the most shocking piece of Skel’s collection. His claws trace the surface of the glass cylindrical housing, looking to a severed arm; or rather at one time it was an arm, now just a boney fraction of a human skeleton, with the phalanges, the ulna, and the radius still in tact, where the humerus was only half present, severed about midway up. Tattered remnants of maroon fabric dangled around the skeletal arm. Skel smiled widely as he wrapped his fingers around the tube then with a mechanical click, yanked the entire until from the pedestal, causing the light inside the tube to extinguish which drops the magnetic field making the skeleton arm clink against the glass tube and jar around with each movement of Skel’s hand.

Under the container it reads…

ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S ARM – BATTLE OF GEONOSIS

Yes, you read that clear as day. Since it was customary for a individual who lost a limb in battle to move on, as Anakin did with a golden arm, his original arm was considered a casualty of war and left inside the hanger bay where he lost it. It was recovered by a Geonosian and housed in protective liquids as a testament to their victory over The Jedi, even as limited as it was with the plans in the hands of Dooku, they did achieve a small manner of victory in the battle but not the war.

Anakin’s arm was soon stolen from Geonosis and sold to highest collector in a private black market auction for anyone who had no less then a million credits to spare. The price for the arm was 200 million credits and ended up in the possession of a Hutt. Eventually the Hutt was betrayed on a bad business deal and a bounty hunter by the name of Aurra Sing. She was hired to steal the historical object from his collection and it then became held in the possession of Guri and Prince Xixor. From there, before the Skyhook’s destruction, Xixor had the prized artifact shipped back to Coruscant long after Anakin the “Padawan” had assumed the identity of Darth Vader. After attacks on Xixor’s palace, thieves stole many of his precious valuables and the arm once again found its way back on the auction floor, but this time via a private courier, Skel won the bid for Anakin’s severed limb for the sum of one million credits and the exchange of his acquired possession of the Shuttle Tyderium used in the Battle of Endor.

Skel was ready to take steps to ensure Jenner would meet his “lesson” in due time Skel glanced over to his most trusted commanders entering the room, both Ssi Ruuk awaiting instruction from their true superior. Skel had trusted them with the most intimate details of his plan, knowing deep in their reptilian hearts pumped men of loyalty bred to guard secrets with their lives, and never voice them even under threat of death. Skel stretched out his fingers and gestured them forward.

SKEL – (facing his servants) The time isss at hand my loyal subjectsss. Soon very sssoon we will restore the great wrong that has been inflicted upon usss. You know what must be done now, see to it my instructionsss are carried out, then inform me when the process is successful.

Skel hands one of the creatures the cylinder with Anakin’s arm, and gestures to his belt to Quillion’s Sith Sword, as the second creature removes the twine securing it. Both nod graciously to their leader as Skel smiles wickedly, glancing to all of his cherished items.

Skel also walks over and opens up the case with Qui Gon and Maul’s cloak, taking the black article tossing to the second advisor, pointing towards another smaller case, where something from it is removed as well.

As the creatures head out to grant his bidding, Skel stops them with a flick of his claw, uttering to them in a foreign tongue further instructions that we cannot understand in their dialect, but he does return to our language ending his orders with his final words, before waving off his loyal henchmen.

SKEL – He mussst never know, see to it once the procedure is finalized, the sword is returned to its place…it mussst be done swiftly, for suspicion we mussst avoid at all costs.

Skel watches the two warriors exit the room with the items, slowly disappearing into the recesses of the halls, while Skel casts his gaze to the prototype suit of Vader’s armor and runs his claw down the glass, shifting his yellow eyes to the shard, radiating with magenta-pink light before pacing his way towards the exit to the Alcove, passing between the two Jedi Temple columns.
 

EXTERIOR: ALPHA XERIDIA - VERSAI MANSION

The alcove is blurred away into darkness, revealing a shimmering gold and red ship emerging out of hyperspace, with a fast speed approach that suddenly slows. It is Val’s ship, not The Assailant but one of his many acquired vessels. This one was the vessel that he and Gen departed from Versai Tech within. The craft hovers slowly through the dotted blackness of space until a lush planet similar to the appearance of earth with a slight hint of violet and a blue shield generated aura comes into view through a view screen. From within the screen the image pans back to show Val and Gen standing, hand in hand gazing to the planet.

Soon the planet becomes broader in appearance, to the point swirls of blue and brown, dot with patches of green, then formations of clouds start to float by the screen, eventually over a few minutes, revealing an aerial view of The Versai Mansion, with its rising decadent pearly white walls glistening in a warm caress of dazzling sunlight, some of the rays flickering off the crystalline formation of ice like structures that make up the central fountain in front of the cherished location.

Moments pass, as Val leans in to kiss Gen, prevented from kissing her as both topple past each other from the impact of the landing gear contacting the grassy earth, sealing their final arrival. Val grins and pulls Gen into his arms as he senses the force signatures of Lon Wol, Sara Versai, and Lance Jade approaching his MARC, giving Gen a long…lingering kiss on her firm, moist lips, wrapping his arms around her waist, turning her so her rear pressed into his pelvis, grinding her back along his chest, flirtatiously savoring her touch with his gentle movements.

GEN – (breaking the kiss) Later Beloved…later, you have guests to greet.

VAL- (kissing down Gen’s neck) Let them wait…

Gen allows Val to kiss as far as her collarbone, then slips from his arms, stepping forward in wonder, running her fingers along the inner dimensions of the cockpit. The machine was a work of art to her, so much more colorful and decorative then the old, stale, uniform designs of Imperial escorts she had traveled in long ago. It had been quite some time since Gen had spoken to Sara or Lance. She spent most of her time after the destruction of The Killian Citadel directly by Val’s bedside. She was eager to see Val’s trusted friends once more, and bask in their company. Val she could have any time she wished it, but the companionship of friends was taking priority at the moment.

Gen suddenly remembered something Corrie had told her to do, once Val had awoken from his coma…Corrie seeming to know Val’s stubborn nature all too well, now happily engaged to Kalin on a vessel somewhere far, far, away to live out her own adventures with her fiancé. Reaching up and opening a sealed compartment, Gen retrieved a long, slender, slightly thick rectangular box, brushing off some dust as she used her other hand to lead Val towards the exit hatch to the craft, but not yet lowering the ramp just yet.

It had occurred to her that while Gen was now fully armed with her new lightsaber and some other little goodies she had VT manufacture for her to use at the appropriate time, Val who was hands down the elite of lightsaber proficiency was still very much unarmed. Before Corrie left with Kalin to venture on her own, after receiving an astoundingly generous amount of compensation for her injuries and her choice to retire from undercover operations in Versai Tech and settle down as a mother, she had given Gen the box containing both of Val’s lightsabers he lost during his final confrontation with Cire. She smiled softly, not aware of any portion of Val’s “Dreamscape” encounter with Obi Wan Kenobi, thinking to herself that Val would be more then overjoyed to gain possession of his father’s lightsaber and his custom “Luminex” one.

Val’s eyes roamed over Gen’s curves, watching her nubile figure sway and bob with her graceful movements. Suddenly his eyes flared open as wide as teacups seeing Gen remove the top to the wooden box, showing Russel and his own lightsabers neatly placed within a velvet red, vacuum formed shell. Instantly he felt himself thrust back into the dreamscape, although this time more of a vision then an actual coma induced prison. He could in this place begin to rebuild the last words that Obi Wan had told him…

“If your blade crosses with another, you will set into motion a course of actions that will consume everything you cherish.”

This phrase was triggered endlessly and repeatedly when he gazed to his prized weapons. He tried to ignore the words but they were powerful and stern. His eyes roaming back to Gen’s purple gaze, feeling his compassion for her and his passion for her protection wash over him. Her lips began to move but he couldn’t hear the sound…the only words echoing like thunder…

“You must find another way…”

Over and over they rang in his ears, ripping him from reality. Then there was a new vision he had not gazed upon before, he saw Lance, Sara, Terra, Lon, and Gen lined up in a row, with trees swaying behind them….then a flash of orange-white brilliance as all of the figures shifted to black forms and began to scramble like a “shell game” until he could not longer decipher which figure was which…then the warning, as one of the figures turned to dust and blew away by an unseen wind. The next image he saw was Gen staring deep into his eyes…again her lips were moving but he couldn’t hear the sound. Was this some sort of warning? Was he being warned already to make his choice? No…this couldn’t be that soon.

GEN – (speaking, worried) Val? Did you hear what I said? Corrie gave me these to return to you…What is it? Beloved what’s wrong?

Val blinks a moment as the vision disappears as quickly as it came, returning back to reality as he gazed lovingly in Gen’s eyes, running his fingers through her hair, soothing her warnings with a gentle kiss to her forehead, running his fingers through her purple locks.

VAL – It’s…it’s nothing baby. I’ll be ok.

GEN – (skeptically) If you insist.

Gen reaches down and extends her closed hand out, baring within her grasp Russel’s signature lightsaber handing it out to Val, while her other hand reaches for his golden bladed saber hilt. For a moment as Val extends his hand there is a slight hesitation, keeping his eyes transfixed on his father’s lightsaber. The voice was no longer haunting him now but its meaning had made its point. Val pondered what might happen if he chose not to take his weapons back, if he could right then and there end Kenobi’s warning at the source…but no if it was a prophecy, it would never be so easy to avoid and not to be caught off guard, Val decided in other to keep Gen happy and unaware of his internal struggle, not wanting to see her worry and ruin this moment where they were reunited. Val reluctantly smiled and retrieved Russel’s lightsaber, clipping it to his left hip.

When Val reaches for the second lightsaber, he accidentally drops the hilt, sending it plummeting to the floor as Gen grabs it in a lighting quick reflex. Her eyes shift to concern as she runs her free hand down Val’s cheek, trying to calm his nervousness.

GEN – (concerned) Beloved in all the years we have known each other, up to this very moment I have never seen you drop your lightsaber so carelessly. I can see it in your eyes, I know something is wrong…tell me.

Val turns away a moment, scolding himself for blowing his “cover” so easily, but he weighed the possibilities of Obi Wan being right or wrong carefully, then he understood one simple safeguard that washed away his doubt and his anxiety…”If your blade crosses with another”. As long as Val didn’t ignite his saber anywhere near another lightsaber blade it would be impossible for his weapon to cross with another and if that were true then whatever Kenobi had foreseen could not come to pass. Placing his faith in this new found strategy, Val embraced Gen warmly, kissing her full on the lips, as he slide his second saber along his right hip, coming up with another clever comeback to his earlier actions.

VAL – Maybe that’s because I’ve never felt so powerless in the presence of such a powerful woman. Even my fingers buckle under the intimidation.

Gen arches a single brow purring as she grabs Val and throws him towards the controls to the ramp, adjusting her outfit which was signature attire, but without a trench coat. Likewise Val was dressed in a simple sleeveless black turtleneck and matching pants, with his improved boots, arriving in a rather civilian like manner, even by his standards. Needless to say he could not wait until he could slip into something more to his liking and slip Gen out of what she was wearing, wrapping her body only in silken sheets in due time.

GEN – Alright, enough games Mr. “I am the second richest man in the universe” Let me remind you that if and when we do elope 50% of what you own is mine.

Val is so nervous by the subtle yet direct proposal, perhaps not serious at the moment for there wasn’t a ring present, that he triggered the button, lowering the ramp to the Marc and nearly fell down it, stopping himself just before he came into view from the people outside. Gen flicked her hair over her shoulders and boldly paced down the ramp first, winking to Val knowing she still had him wrapped around her finger far better then any ring.

Meanwhile outside of the craft, Lon Wol was the first to see Gen pace down the ramp, followed by Sara, Terra, then Lance who was sitting in a hovering wheelchair, his broken leg still mending from Skorne’s vicious attack back in Adega. Lon smiled brightly to Gen, seeing that she was every bit as beautiful as Val had told him she was, countless times. The pictures around the mansion could never give Lon’s impression justice as he almost felt blinded by the vibrancy of her purple and pink locks. Gen looked over to see Lon standing in his silver and black tunic and custom attire, spying the golden “LW” crest with two swirling crescents upon his belt buckle and she stepped before him, gazing deep into his eyes.

GEN – You I gather are the infamous and untrained Lon Wol are you not?

Lon quirks a brow, the first impression given to Gen wasn’t “Heya Lon how are ya! Hi, I’m Gen!” no it was “untrained”. Way to blow a first impression was his first thought but the minute he gazed into Gen’s sparkling amethyst eyes those thoughts of discourse instantly melted away, in fact in her presence he found his throat tighten in nervousness and his words came out all jumbled. He couldn’t even think! What the hell was wrong with him? Then he remembered what Val told him about Gen, to never look her directly in the eye if you don’t want to be mopping floors.

LON – Uh errm yeah uh that is to say well uh…Yeah I’m Lon Wol and yes, I am Val’s Apprentice.

Gen knew exactly what she was doing to Lon, she thought it was cute but she relaxed her eyes and the seductive power she could convey with them slowly dwindled away as she winked to Lon and passed on to Sara.

LON – (speaking to himself) For the sake of Alderaan…Val wasn’t kiddin!

VAL – Yeah I warned ya bud, last time I stood eye to eye with that vixen I found myself chopping a whole forest of firewood. Then there was that one time she asked me for a “drink” and had me fetch two buckets of water from a stream ten miles away.

Lon snapped his eyes towards the ramp of the MARC as Val paced down the surface of it, touching his boots upon solid ground, nodding with his trademark smirk to Lon. Perhaps it was the kid in him, but Lon felt compelled to rush up and shake Val’s hand repeatedly, constantly repeating the same sequence of words containing, “Good to see you, missed you, how are you, glad to have you back” pretty much mixed up and jumbled together, but Val got the general idea.

VAL – (looking to Lon) I see you haven’t changed much, still eager and impulsive. I’ve come to admire that character trait from you. It’s nice to see you too and it’s good to be back where I belong.

LON – Well this place has been a blast, I mean I’ve been watching the paint dry on the restorations, counting cracks in the concrete! Oh, Oh and when it’s really action packed, I get to go out and hunt down dust mites!

Val smiles warmly, placing his hand on Lon’s shoulder to shut him up, clearly having gotten the punch line of the sarcasm. Lon had picked up Val’s rather unique approach to life but he still had much to learn about where to draw the line on his retorts. Then again Val didn’t return to ridicule his trusted Apprentice, he came back to absorb himself in the friendship and support of those he trusted and admired. Val could also sense a hidden depression exuded from Lon’s slightly diverting eyes…shame of some sort there, not keeping full eye contact with his Master. It wasn’t hard for Val to assume with the lack of Foe Raker’s appearance at the Mansion to attend his “welcome back” gathering, things had grown sour between Lon and Foe’s training at one point or another.

Val then looked around him, seeing the familiar formation off in the distance of three barrels, and two suspended pieces of rigging. Most importantly he also noticed a sheet of metal bucking softly in the breeze, then he figured out the problem that Lon was facing, noticing the slight patch of brown from the distance, casting his eyes to Lon’s bandaged fist.

Val soothingly clutched Lon’s shoulder, causing his Padawan to look at him with a little more ease, enjoying the support. The force spoke to Lon not in words but in feelings, somehow he knew Val already understood what was troubling him, even though he couldn’t explain it. Val just leaned in close and whispered into his ear.

VAL – (whisper) I understand…it’s ok, we’ll settle this together in a little bit.

Before Lon can reply to Val’s comment, he’s already rejoined his place by Gen’s side as Val smiles warmly to his sister, while feeling a tinge of rage over Lance’s less then capable, handicapped confinement to a higher grade, hovering chair, where his knee lies straight and affixed into place, surrounded in various plates of chrome and steel, while his right leg bends normally, resting along a extension of metal from the base of the seat. Val’s eyes narrow a moment, still trying to block out the reverberation of Obi Wan’s statement, gazing to Lance’s injury and a said “beginning” of a new threat he has yet to encounter. Already Val could see a pattern emerging, another twisted man out to settle a personal vendetta with Val once again…was it Cire all over again? No…this time it was different because this rare hunter was targeting everyone around Val and not specifically Val himself where as Cire followed a similar pattern but focused more on things that would cripple Val on a financial and emotional level, where it appeared Skorne was just another hunter trying to make a name for himself.

Val didn’t know who Skorne was personally, he had never even seen the intruder, but already this menace proved quite the problem maker when he chose not only to attack his sister and her fiancé, but had the audacity to try and kill him when he was unable to defend himself. On top of that, he went toe to toe with Val’s trained Master, and injured her as well. No one and I mean NO ONE messes with Val’s girl and gets away with it. Val knew in due time from the pattern of events, that he and Skorne would meet very soon and settle this “score” personally over aggressive negotiations, although with Obi Wan’s warning however, Val would have to find new ways to maintain his level of skill without the aid of his lightsaber.

In the back of his mind, as he cast his gaze back to Lon, Val knew he had to work quickly through this “meet and greet” situation to stabilize Lon’s beliefs in himself and his goals. Val didn’t know what exactly Foe said to Lon but whatever it was, that gleam of inspiration and dedication to become a Master was no longer present in Lon’s eye.

Val would attend to Lon’s psychological needs in due time though. First on his list of priorities was to speak to Sara and Lance and find out any details he could about this hunter and his methods. Never enter a battle without knowing your opponent, a solemn rule Val had preached to Lon over and over again for an opponent who possesses the element of unpredictability was more powerful then that appeared. Val even fell to a lack of this rule when he charged into Cire’s Citadel and confronted “Quillion” hell bent that he was really Krevlin and thus, not able to use the force let alone wield a weapon other then a blaster. Val had learned well from underestimating his opponent, not letting emotion lead his decisions if he could help it but then again if you anger someone far enough to the point of snapping, even the most strongest of wills could be compromised, it was in fact a flaw that kept an individual “human”.

Val listened in as Gen and Sara exchanged words. Sara was radiant, more so then she ever was many months ago, still as beautiful and had clearly matured from her approach to conversation and well let’s face it, her body was well toned and firmed. Sara was no longer the “Daddy’s girl” she once was, she was a full fledged woman now with power and responsibility. She exuded an understanding of body language and mannerisms as she stood proudly before Val and Gen, nodding occasionally as Gen explained to her the particulars of her stay at Versai Tech.

Sara’s eyes still reflected the deep emerald luster she had when she and Val first met, way back when he fought Efface. Her attire was more casual though, with elegance to it that confirmed her status as an elite woman of substance. She wore a long white dress, adorned with diamonds and bands of silver. On her finger was a humbly sized princess cut emerald, crested by an assortment of diamonds, in a swirled pattern around the gem floating in a circle of gold. This ring was her engagement ring that Lance had given to her sometime in the six to seven months Val was in his coma. Obviously the world did not stop when Val slipped into darkness, other characters lives had to continue on and with that came change, which was not always good for no longer were Foe, Corrie, Kalin and some other friends of Val’s in the picture.

He waited until there was a substantial break in the conversation before getting down to personal desires, then of course business second in this circumstance, he couldn’t appear anti-social for Val was viewed as the wise cracking, cheerful individual when he was among his friends. Still a part of him wasn’t the same after his experience in the Dreamscape, with Obi Wan’s warning burned into every action he did, every time he brushed his fingers along the hilts of his weapons…he didn’t have the freedom to do as he pleased anymore, but those feelings were also settled when he remember that again, his blade cannot cross with another if they are not in operation to do so.

SARA – Val, it is so nice to see you again. We’ve missed you terribly. The last six months have been filled with happiness as well as tribulation. As you have heard, after you slipped into unconsciousness the Citadel was destroyed. I can’t pretend to understand what it was like for you in your lengthy sleep, but I can relate to being trapped inside that darkness. I hope you’re not upset with our decision to become more then friends; its just when you were away Lance was the only one to help me deal with the…trauma.

Val smiles softly, pulling Sara into his arms, hugging her tightly, running his fingers through her blonde locks, and breathing in her scent. It wasn’t a gesture of love on the level of seduction but a measure of support and comfort, to quench Sara’s worries about Lance and her affair.

VAL – (hugging) There was a time Sara, that I felt I would never escape from that prison and I know all too well the need for companionship and support. Gen was a gift from the guardians of the force, just as Lance was sent to you. Have no fear my sister, I have faith in your judgment. Lance has more then made his worth clear to me both as a friend and a loyal employee. I am happy for both of you.

Lance smirks from his chair, pulling up alongside Sara, resting his hand along her thigh, drawing her to stand next to him, as her fingers slide along his shoulder soothingly.

LANCE – It’s good to see you back on your feet again, old man (winks). I couldn’t have kept the ol President image up forever you know. I told Ray, it would only be a temporary matter. But then again my intentions were altered now weren’t they? (looking to his leg)

GEN – (looking over the leg) Lance there is no shame in your bravery. You did your best to protect the one that you love, I too know this deed. That of course is not the only thing we have in common. We’ve seen this hunter in the flesh I believe my Beloved is in need of specific details.

Val’s smile drops a moment, as he wraps his arm around Gen’s waist drawing her closer to him, wanting to keep that physical contact there having twenty-five years of neglect to make up for. His eyes dart back to Sara, then on to Terra who simply stands silent, observing the entire ordeal.

Val begins to gesture to Terra, as she steps forward wearing a pair of black pants, and matching shirt, although sleeveless and very feminine with her cleavage peeking through a loose gray tunic, held over her front and back with a matching sash similar to Luke’s outfit within Jabba’s quarters. She also has a quiver affixed to her back and several of her custom made javelins shimmering from the tips. Terra was still very much the warrior like her mother Crymson. She didn’t believe in dressing in clothes as elegant and formal as Sara, nor did she like the idea of wearing clothes that made her appear too “feminine” because she viewed herself as a woman of power and strength, to appear as a damsel would make her weak, it was because of this choice that she was hardly ever seen without her javelins in hands reach.

TERRA – (hugging Val, whispering in his ear) I need to speak to you when you are finished here. Later in the hallway meet me alone, it’s about the matter of my mother and your actions concerning her.

Val quirks a brow but nods in understanding turning back to Lance, stretching out to shake hands in greeting to his trusted friend who had risked life and limb to not only protect Val’s sister but maintain control within VT. Lance was unquestionably loyal and dedicated to his duty but he was also Val’s source of male bonding when he had to discuss matters that could not be addressed by a woman. Likewise Val also shared a deep friendship with Lon who at times seemed like a son to him, passing on a good deal of his secrets that Val would never show another living soul.

Lon’s past was dotted with similar connections to Val’s “curse”. Lon had walked the path of darkness and had lost his entire family in the process because of one man’s actions to alter his life forever into a world of death and suffering. Perhaps this was why Val decided to spare Lon’s life in a momentous duel of strength. Lon was a powerful user of the dark side and his eyes were one a lower level, intense and feral. However he also had a reason for his choice to succumb to the dark side…but it was a road Val had turned away from and one that Lon did not have the recognition to realize the consequences and weaknesses of his decision. Val has shown Lon just how weak the dark side truly was to someone who did not yet have a full understanding of its potential strengths and weaknesses. Lon developed the most seductive of traits when he walked the dark path, impulsiveness, overconfidence, recklessness, emotion fueled actions, and most intense and tragic of all a deep hatred and a thirst for vengeance.

Val had avenged Gen’s death by erasing all those who were responsible for it, he was no better in that sense and he paid for his own decisions time and time again. Lon however was much younger then Val, he didn’t have the benefit of learning from battling in the field as opposed to merely being “tested”. This is another reason Lon failed his test with Foe Raker, Foe had time to train as did Val, ten years of hard work and endless practice where Foe expected Lon to master such an advanced technique in a matter of hours, not years. It wasn’t all Lon’s fault for failing his trial, he simply was not ready not because he was weak or lacked the willpower and determination. He just didn’t have all the necessary tools and practice to excel to his highest potential.

Everyone must fail, it is inevitable because it is how life teaches us to learn and improve our greatest faults. This leads into a notion that conflict is a part of a person’s overall character development, there must be an equal amount of success and failure for one to truly grow. Val glanced back into the woods, feeling the urgency to correct Lon’s growing doubt in himself, but blinked away the impulsive urge knowing that with practice also comes knowledge, Val needed to understand what exactly had changed so he could adapt to the present time.

Val placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder as he walked behind the hover chair, and then signaled for Gen and Sara to give him his full undivided attention.

VAL – I appreciate the outpouring of emotion over my return but I must address that I’m not yet aware of the events during my absence. I need everyone to set aside their feelings of companionship and tell me everything you know about this hunter and any bits of information that I have missed.

Sara and Lance look toward each other and interlace their fingers, as they decide to tell their version of the story first, nodding to Gen in respect while Lon stands silently taking his place by Val’s side although a bit reluctant still as Val sees him begin to head towards the forest, grabbing Lon by the neck playfully but firmly planting him in place next to him.

VAL – (whispering to Lon) You need to hear this too, it involves everyone.

SARA – (clears her throat) Well Val I’m not sure where exactly to begin so I’m going to try and sum this up as easily as possible. You are already aware of Lance and my relationship, so I will start with what really matters to you the most. This hunter attacked me and Lance inside our estate which I named “Adega” built more of a château then your mansion on the shores of Talasea.

VAL – (nods) I’m pleased to hear you have erected a place of your own. Continue.

SARA – (deep breath) This hunter, “Skorne” as he insisted on being addressed tried to assassinate me but Lance sensed his attack and prevented him. After Lance and I grew aware of Skorne’s presence he burst into our bedroom and well let’s just say in the aftermath, I managed to defeat him and Lance was injured.

LANCE – Don’t sugarcoat it baby, Val is person who likes things straight up. Listen Val, the guy busts in our house, attacks my girl and breaks my frigging leg! Dude did such a number on my leg, I can't even force heal it, too many fractures. He also had to use those damn darts!

VAL – (perks a brow) Darts? What kind of darts?

LANCE – I dunno he mentioned something about trident darts. His outfit was strange though, it reminded me of a picture you showed me a long time back, that Mandalorian/Scout Trooper armor you used for Bounty Hunting sitting in a case in the hall?

VAL – (nods) That was a long time ago. Are you sure it was that particular style?

LANCE – Yes, I never mistake a detail like that only as perfect a match as it was, it wasn’t white and green it was this red, orange, and black. There was this weird insignia on the shoulder pads though, freaking lookin horned spade shape with horns.

Sara reaches into a pocket and draws out the severed and severely carbon scored portion of Skorne’s shoulder pad fragment, handing it to Val with Skorne’s insignia, handing the piece to Val who takes it in his hand and studies the logo.

VAL – Hmmm never seen this before, must be something new. It disturbs me that this guy knows enough about my past to counterfeit my designs though. He probably got it from one of Cire’s knock off companies that illegally made replicas of significant items from my past. It’s a long story on that one.

Gen quickly snatches the plate from Val’s hand, staring at the emblem in horror, knowing she has seen it before but not as Lance described, painting a very different picture of Skorne’s appearance when she faced him on the rooftop of Tower One in Versai Tech.

GEN – This description does not match my encounter. No…not one bit. The assassin I faced was not a man of such weakness.

LANCE – (gasps) You mean the bastard got stronger?

SARA – (smiles) That’s because I did a number on his armor Gen. He probably had to find a new set to contend with. You know that whole thing about having to have a desperation attack to use when you have no other option? The thing with the green energy arcs?

GEN – (smiles) Yes I remember quite vividly showing you those lessons over the holocam. If he had to find himself a new choice of protection, I assume you gave him quite the “shock”.

SARA – I sent him crying back to his employer wrapped up rather uncomfortably in his tin can suit and well cooked. If he managed to live it wasn’t alone, no one could have survived such a fall without extensive internal injury.

Gen knits her brows a moment, trying to remember the specific details of Skorne’s newer attire, keeping in mind that their fight was incredibly fast paced and most of the time, Skorne had his back turned to Gen save for his final escape where she had just about enough time to really access his full costume, not to mention the origin of it, before she had to run and dodge his unrelenting energy discs.

GEN – No, this symbol is correct but the armor you describe has changed. It looked as it belonged to, what was his name? Jetta Fett? Bongo Fett? Mango Fett? Oh yes…Jango Fett. His uniform was of orange, red, and black…like fire he struck and like fire he disappeared.

Val shifts on his foot, pondering the information he has been given, but there was still more details he needed to learn, at least hew knew the culprit’s name was Skorne. Most importantly, he knew Gen had lost her lightsaber but he was not given clarification how it occurred.

VAL – I need to know his weapons, all of you.

LANCE – Well back at the ranch (smirks) he had a standard E-11 Blastech Imperial blaster. He also had those infernal trident dart launchers and the usual equipment you have on your bounty hunting costume Val. Also I think he’s ex military, his hand to hand combat skills and endurance for pain was surprisingly effective.

SARA – He had some sort of jetpack, but it didn’t have any exhaust…no fire, not like Jango’s pack. Something entirely different I have never seen before and a personal shield generator.

Gen swallowed hard a moment as Sara and Lance brought Val up to date on Skorne’s weaponry. To her she knew this info wasn’t really giving Val many of the details he really needed to prepare for, something Gen had no chance to do but she never forgot something once she observed it, all the details of Skorne’s armor that she could identify from the records she had studied prior to their confrontation came to bare as she waited for her turn to add her comments.

GEN – (grins) Customized blaster pistol, modified disruptor technology, dual barrel multi rotational net launcher with stun capabilities totaling 5000 volts released by standard tabanna gas propellant, wrist mounted fiber-cord tri tipped grappling hook launcher,  toxic dart knee pad projectors, and wrist mounted dual phased gyroscopic energy discs. (blinks) What? Did I miss anything?

For a few moments everyone but Val stands with their eyes transfixed in surprise as Gen reads off almost specific details the full known arsenal of Skorne’s deadly devices. Val purrs softly and smoothes his fingers around Gen’s firm waist drawing her close to him as he kisses her lips and smiles to Lance, Sara, Terra, and Lon.

VAL – That’s my girl, always taking the direct route.

GEN – (smirks) And Val believing one can always get away with being so bold with their actions.

Gen winks and pulls away from Val’s embrace, swaying her hips as she heads towards the mansion doors, gesturing for Terra and Sara to follow her, while the boys are left to fend for themselves.

GEN – I must part from you now beloved, girl talk…no boys allowed.

As Gen, Terra, and Sara disappear through the double doors of the Versai Mansion Foyer, Val glances to Lance and Lon, shrugging his shoulders. Pointing towards the forest, Val keeps a steady pace making sure Lon isn’t going to back out of his training…even if Lon doubted himself, Val was still his master and Lon knew this well as he reluctantly made his way over towards the three barrels and cast a sideward glance of guilt, seeing the blood stained, swaying sheet of metal come closer and closer into clarity, while he paced towards it. He wasn’t sure exactly what Val had in store for him, but it surprised Lon when Val veered off to a tree further away from the display Foe had set up. This enticed Lon’s curiosity as he quickly scampered off towards the tree, watching Val take his place as he did years before when he was about to slip into one of his philosophical teaching modes, when it was time for pleasantries to end and his lesson to begin.
 
 

INTERIOR: KILLIAN STRONGHOLD – BASEMENT LEVEL

While Val and Lon veer towards the trial’s tribulations, the scenery suddenly dissolves, into three shafts of blue light spilling into a pitch black room, where the floodlights of cerulean, cast their wells of luminescence on the ground, while objects not exactly seen but made out as pipes and machinery also in darkness can only be identified by the reflection of glittering silver contours, where suddenly as our view sinks deeper into this room, affixing in one location where the blue spotlights spill from forty five degrees from the left, the right, and one vertical down the center, where a dark mass begins to move.

The shadow of this thing we have yet to observe stands on its feet, with its back turned to us. We can then from the swirling patches of smoke that curl through the lighting see that before this figure’s feet are dismembered pieces of Killian Drones, all of course were again in shadow with only hints to their attire, singed and burned. The figure stood fully erect now, draped in what appeared to be from the back a long, black cloak with a hood drawn up over its face.

Suddenly both of its arms snap outward, the right spreading the gloved gray fingertips while the left possessed a shimmering silver plated object that glistened in the spilling blue lights above. The details of this weapon, a lightsaber were very distinct and unlike anything ever constructed before. Its most striking feature, though not ignited at the moment was its razor sharp, deadly anodized black and silver blade emitter shroud with intricate forty five degree die cuts into the sides of eight identical combat knives (think Rambo’s knife). Trailing down from the deadly, razor sharp serrated emitter shroud was highly specialized chrome plates electroplated to the shell of the weapon, forming various patterns of angular paths.

 Below that, the dialect for “Killian” was boldly etched into the unit with vibrant red paint, moving downward to a dual series of miniature silver studs and again, the same plating began to run down the center of the lightsaber hilt in a high tech, impressive line of plating that looked fairly serpentine and resembled scales. At the very end of the device, a claw very similar to the emitter shroud on Crymson Vachon’s lightsaber clutched an orange fiery jewel...a sphere, denoting a planet in the grasp of the claw and a clear indication of domination and leadership. The weapon from a distance was clearly menacing and deadly from any angle it was viewed, bred from fire and steel with only one purpose…to destroy.

The figure now stepping into the central indigo light, is shown to be garbed in Darth Maul’s Naboo cloak, obviously given to it by Skel, confirming that suspicion as the view slowly pans over to the opposing wall where Skel smiles sadistically in the basement, more like an arena mostly with wide open, barren spaces…a perfect location to practice one’s fighting potential. This was Skel’s intention as he beamed with pride, still angered by his missing limb. Before Skel could further advance his goals, this figure had to prove itself to attain the fortune it was destined for. Scattered below the individual’s feet were approximately fifteen dead Killian Drones, several sputtering, melting, white-hot droideka fragments, and a flurry of battle droids, all sliced or rather…melted into chunks of metallic goo on the floor.

SKEL – Excellent…yesss impressive you are, powerful you have become but not yet the best are you to attain…Daysss you have been training. Final tessst ready are you?

The shadowy persona slowly turns around in the light, gazing to Skel from a far off distance enough that we cannot make out the distinct features of his face, only that he stands tall in relatively common attire, save for the drawn up hood of Maul’s cloak, and from the distance we can also see two red eyes glowing within the darkness. The form draws its hands inward, then thrusts its left hand out, igniting the weapon which extends in a shaft of signature purple light, no white core and as it is ignited the blade doesn’t hum normally traditional lightsaber, in fact there is a mechanical echo to the vibrant humming vibrations and a louder “throng” then that of a Sith crystal lightsaber like Dooku’s.

Gazing to the blade, it possesses no trace of white, but it does glow with a deep magenta-violet hue. Surrounding the blade ripples of heat swirl in the blue lights above, causing a heat distortion in the area around wherever the blade shifts. The figure whips the blade upward, as its echoed screech screams to life, but oddly the purple shaft is completely lost to the eye with only the heat ripple visible, it is only when the blade is at a substantial moment of rest that the purple core of the prototype weapon can be detected.

Skel takes this gesture from the figure’s “heatsaber” as a nod to his question. The heatsaber didn’t function quite the same as a normal lightsaber. It didn’t for the most part possess a “blade” in the micro-slice sense. The shaft itself was never hot, but it melted through objects that contacted the aura around it that made the weapon so incredibly deadly. The specialized plating in the handle also possessed heat dispersion vents, for when the weapon was activated, the heat ripple that surrounded the purple shaft completely enveloped the length in its heat distortion ripple effect, making it as hot as a vat of molten metal to whatever it touched. The device was conceived to defy the ways of the Sith and the Jedi alike. It was a prototype for a new device to come into the service of The Killian when it proved effective in true combat circumstances and it wasn’t known who its original conceptual inventor was, only that somewhere along the line, the plans for the prototype were intercepted and hidden away in The Killian archives. It was this stranger who constructed the device, and its deadly appearance reflected his depraved ways. An opponent would not know where to strike or if they struck the heatsaber, because when in motion there simply was no blade to “see” to track, only the rush of intense heat vapor, and by the time an opponent understood which direction the ripple fanned edge was coming from, it would already be far, far, too late to defend against it.

This again was The Killian way, to strike with the highest level of stealth and surprise. Obviously the pieces of machinery and flesh at this figure’s feet were clear evidence to the weapon’s powerful efficiency. The cloaked menace grinned inside the hood, peering through the ruby crystallized eyes of a shimmering gold plated (electrum plate) mask that shielded the eyes of his facial features, while the lower half where his mouth would be was drawn over with black fabric (like a ninja). The upper regions of the villainous being were shielded by the hood of Maul’s cloak, leaving an opponent in the dark as to its identity at all times, robbing them of a chance to understand whom they were facing against, tipping the odds of victory in the dark wielder’s favor, instilling and maintaining the element of surprise.

Suddenly pacing into the room was another figure, this one much more recognizable coming to stride into this dimly light interior, passing beyond the shafts of azure light spilling in from above where we only catch glimpses of black leather and maroon clothing. Its boots crush along the ground, confidently entering the “arena” bred for one purpose…to be the ultimate test of skill.

Clipped along a brown belt with several utility pouches, is Val’s first lightsaber, dangling and weathered as it had once done before years within Val’s possession but a new owner wore the cherished and distinct weapon now. The figure had should length blonde locks, that slide along its shoulders as it passed into another shaft of light, revealing the taller statuesque visage, draped in what could be but then could never believed to be possible.

SKEL – (grins) Opponent you face, defeat you must or take your place he will. Introduce you I do to Master Anakin Skywalker.

No? It couldn’t possibly be Anakin could it? Was it Vader? No the clothing wasn’t the right brand for that…it was very much Anakin Skywalker who paced his way into the arena, but it was not the true Anakin just a genetically crafted clone dressed in Skel’s coveted outfit from his collection, bred and raised to the age of his Padawan years, just beyond them, but he had no artifical arm. He had all of Anakin’s traits but only implanted memories, his lightsaber skills were honed to a razor sharp edge but this was not “Vader” Anakin wasn’t perfect but he was efficient in his tasks. It was clear now, it started to make sense. Skel gave the vigilant chosen one’s arm to his minions to clone the legendary force user, for the purpose not of rebuilding an empire or creating another Vader but as a true test of what Skel believed would become the most powerful force user in the galaxy.

No words were exchanged and none were needed. Anakin unclipped Val’s lightsaber and flashed the fiery-orange blade forward with a menacing SNAP-HISS, while the unknown masked figure readied his specialized purple blade in a defensive Form II position. This was a clone of Anakin at the dawning of his turn to the dark side, his eyes were narrowed, cold and focused. With a bold charge, Anakin brought his lightsaber in a sweeping uppercut, in which the cloaked void countered easily, sending a ripple of heat searing under Anakin’s extended blade. Both locked their weapons and stared into one another’s focused dark side fueled eyes, but it was Anakin who couldn’t take the intense heat of the prototype weapon and was forced to sidestep, hoping to send his blade horizontally through the attacker. The cloaked void was too smart for this measure, instead he hurled a powerful force push into Anakin’s body with a side snap of his outstretched hand, hurling Anakin hard into a wall, as he growled deeply, gathered his rage and hunted the cloaked void again like a ravaged animal.

Anakin couldn’t see the blade as the cloaked warrior twirled and spun his heatsaber, one blow sliced across his opponent’s back searing and melting Anakin’s leather tunic, while portions of his maroon clothing burst into flames. Anakin was forced to get his distance and extinguish his weapon, trying desperately to bat out the flames as they started to consume his arms.

The cloaked challenger didn’t care for Anakin’s well being, rushing towards the boy, with great enhanced speed he picks up and tosses Anakin across the arena, where Anakin slams hard into a steel set of pipes that buckle under his weight, causing a barrage of smoke to erupt, searing one side of his face as he grabs it in pain.

The covered villain with his heatsaber echoing in the room begins to carefully approach Anakin, still feeling the effects of the pipes and the searing heat of steam. With uncanny speed, Anakin is back up on his feet, igniting his orange bladed device, whipping the blade in fast passed Form IV powerful arches, with such hatred and intense anger that he manages to drive the cloaked figure backward across the arena as its blade ripple paths deflect Anakin’s powerful assault. Somehow Anakin it appeared could discern where the paths of the masked villain’s weapon would emerge but that all changed as he soon learned that all his efforts were doing was wasting his strength and leading Anakin out of the protection of the blue shafts of light into the bleak void of the room’s darker shadows.

The covered fighter had led Anakin into a trap now, for Anakin’s face was illuminated by the orange radiance of Val’s lightsaber, he could only see momentary flickers of the hunter’s purple shaft that faded in and out of appearance. Suddenly Anakin couldn’t see anything, but he could hear the sound of running feet, feeling the heat draw near. Having to rely on the force to guide his movements alone, there was a heated squeal of white flashes as Anakin blocked the relentless barrage of invisible saber strikes against him, trying to keep pace as they grew faster and faster, trying to make his way back towards the light where he could see whom he was fighting. But the masked figure didn’t allow him such a strategy, using the force to pick up Anakin in midair and hurl him as he made a running dash for the light, back into the wall of darkness, where the attacks continued.

Anakin could face a man one on one with incredible prowess if he could “see” him but this opponent was using not only a blade he could only hear approach, but was in complete darkness save for the times it needed to rest revealing the shaft of purple brilliance amidst the swirl of heat vapor where Anakin used his judgment to bring his orange blade down towards the source, sending sparks hurling in all directions as he caught strobe-like views of his advisory dashing away and sweeping his blade from behind, where Anakin through the guidance of the force brought his blade back and felt the other collide, straining to hold his own weapon from impacting into his own body.

ANAKIN – You fight without honor…I will defeat you on even ground.

Another voice resonates from within the darkness as Anakin watches the purple heatsaber blade steadily approach, echoing its vibrant hum with the matched pace of footsteps, where the mask of the figure is illuminated by the magenta-pink hues of his weapon.

VOICE – (Bruce Payne verbalization) You think that you were ever a match for me clone? You are not Anakin Skywalker, from the moment you stepped into this arena you've already lost…you think you are standing boy but very soon you realize…you were never alive.

Anakin screams in anger, rushing towards the figure, then shifting his movements to run along side it, bringing his blade horizontal, rushing along the cloaked menace’s side. As his orange blade closes distance while the figure stands and allows him to approach at the last possible second, it leaps high into the air in a front flip, holding its saber out to the side, coming to land on both feet, then pivot as its heated blade sears into flesh and fabric, burning deeply into Anakin’s exposed back. Anakin pivots opposite to the figure, absorbing the pain as he brings himself around to slice his orange blade into a tall cylindrical structure, halving it in a spray of glittering fragments, pushing the massive column towards his attacker with a swift kick to its base.

The masked warrior sidesteps the column and spins around to Anakin’s back, sending the ripping heatsaber towards his back again, in a downward vertical strike, but Anakin using his Form IV skill holds his orange blade down the center of his burned backside, preventing the cloaked figure from impacting him, jerking the blade upward with force enhanced strength, then he sidesteps and spins 180, scoring his first victory as his orange saber rakes across the cloaked figure’s midsection.

The masked assassin smiles sadistically and looks down to the slash across his midsection, bursting into a steadily rising volley of laughs, turning from humorous to sadistic and maniacal.

VOICE – If that is your best effort Skywalker you will perish.

ANAKIN – (narrows his eyes) You will learn of my best when I stomp on your grave.

Both warriors lock blades once more, as Anakin tries to keep his distance, unable to stand too much of the heat rippling around the cloaked warrior’s devastating weapon. The figure charges as Anakin prepares himself defensively, holding his saber above his head, but as the figure begins to close distance and Anakin swings towards the challenger’s shoulder, the masked attacker vanishes as Anakin’s fiery orange blade sizzles through air.

Suddenly Anakin feels something else slash across the back of his thighs, as he drops to his knees in searing pain, while third degree gashes in his calves send hellfire through his body, numbing his legs instantly as another slash comes across the lower lumbar region of his back, severing his spinal cord or rather…melting through it. Anakin instantly feels his lower body become senseless, paralyzed by the barrage behind, trying to drag his way towards another pillar, keeping his eyes peeled for any trace of his opponent. The warrior had known how to incorporate a force illusion to gain the upper hand, a technique that Anakin even in his prime had never encountered in combat.

VOICE – So…here we are, both of us challenging for the throne. Annie was it? How do you intend to stomp on my grave when you can no longer walk?

Anakin listens to the voice then glances to everything around him, using the force to rip pipes from the walls, light fixtures, metal wall panels, anything he can get his telekinetic grip on, hurling a barrage of materials blindly towards the source of the voice, as he can see just barely the objects slamming into what looks like nothing, while a flicker of purple fades in and out, shifting wildly. Anakin knows he is hitting the deadly adversary and continues to pelt the attacker with various objects. Suddenly Anakin’s concentration is shattered by intense pain all throughout his body, as if every one of his muscles, bones, and ligaments (that he could feel) were being tensed and stretched taut. He looked in horror to see that as he couldn’t feel his lower legs he was now hovering in mid air, while the masked opponent stretched his free hand outward, wrapping Anakin in a telekinetic levitation and a grip that seemed to feel as if there were invisible hands grabbing and tugging every portion of his body simultaneously.

FIGURE – It took you years to master the Jedi arts and years to understand the powers of the dark side, but underneath it all Anakin you are just a sad little boy crying for his dead mother. You never had a chance against me; I am three times the man you were. I don’t believe in rules, I don’t have a code of honor all I intend to do is win this contest.

ANAKIN – But you cheated…you had to cheat to gain the advantage, hiding in the shadows and using powers unknown to me.

FIGURE – My dear Mr. Skywalker, do you not yet understand? In this occupation, there simply are no rules to break.

The cloaked opponent begins to curl his fingers inward, like a ball as Anakin feels his bones begin to fracture under the weight of the invisible hands. He screams in suffering as the figure’s fingers draw closer and closer, applying more and more global pressure to his straining frame. As the figure grins broadly behind its black clothed mouth piece, and its red eyes flare with delight, it snaps his hand fully closed into a tightly balled fist, and spins around, as Skel hears a thunderous echo of what could be described as splinters of wood being broken in sequence, but in this manner upon the closing of his hand all of Anakin’s bones cave under the pressure and snap in the darkness, followed by only the thud of his formless corpse dropping to the floor.

VOICE – Beaten…broken…done.

Skel shivers fearfully towards the masked victor. His yellow eyes flaring open…the power, the sadistic desire to win no matter the cost, to prove is worth and to overpower his opponent without remorse or pity…Skel beamed with pride as he glanced to his “champion”. Surely now the winds of change were sweeping into a new direction in the galaxy. His chosen successor to the throne had passed the test with flying colors. Most importantly as the warrior extinguished his heatsaber and affixed it to his belt, he was also loyal to Skel’s wishes. The perfect bodyguard…”No”, Skel thought not the perfect guard or the perfect weapon…

The perfect “Master”, that was what Skel viewed his champion as and with his training complete, although still some rough edges to hone he would very well be ready to carry out Skel’s other superior’s wishes, a figure more respectful to his needs unlike the current leader “Lord Jenner”

SKEL – Yesss prepare you mussst my friend. Much to do have you…proven your worth you have. Always remember this day…momentous it shall be when claimed your destiny you will...Quillion the Second, I dub you.  (Q2)