Wrath's Resolve

Thanks to the genius of Matt Swenson, he and I have created a story in the Star Wars universe. This is the first entry in the series, and the second episode is in the works! On behalf of my co-author, Matt Swenson, and myself, we hope you enjoy this story we've created. Of course, Star Wars is entirely the property of George Lucas, Lucasarts, and all that legal copyright jazz. Enjoy! 

Wrath’s Resolve

Episode I: Discovery

A Star Wars fan fiction by Tyler Bridges and Matt Swenson

In the deep reaches of space, a small blue and green orb sat among the stars. Clouds covered much of what would normally be visible. Mountains, jungles, rivers and canyons filled the spaces that the clouds did not blanket. This was all visible from the red holographic image of the planet, projected from a table aboard the Rage-class Imperial corvette Voidtalon.

                    Dathomir, it seemed, was a planet that had somehow avoided the ceaseless struggles of the Cold War.

                    Until now, Darth Aciatus thought to himself.

                    It baffled him that such a planet would avoid either Republic or Imperial attention for so long. The planet was ripe with power; the Dark Lord could feel the Force ripple with energy resonating from and around Dathomir.

                    A man at the navigational computer turned and whispered to another, wearing the gray uniform of an Imperial commander. The commander turned to Aciatus.  “My lord, we are approaching the system. We will exit lightspeed shortly.”

                    Behind his mask, Aciatus almost smiled. “Thank you, commander.”

                    He drew his black robes around his ebon, purple, and gold tunic, moving across the deck to the pilot’s viewport.  Aciatus could feel the fear of his crew as he moved to the front of the deck. The Darth’s menacing image was certainly enough to instill fear.  Besides the dark colored robes he wore, Aciatus had a pair of shoulder-guards, each with a metal spike raising just above his head.  A mask hid his face from view, completing his terrible ensemble. From within the folds of his tunic, Aciatus absently traced the edge of a black cylinder with his cortosis-weave gauntlets. His double-bladed lightsaber, though rarely used, was still one of his most prized possessions. The masked Sith Lord drew himself to his full height as he stopped next to another hooded figure.

                    “Shrike, we have almost arrived.”

                    Darth Shrike, Lord of the Sith, gave no indication he had heard the other man. Beneath the dark robes and hood, his whip-like frame was encased in armor, originally silver but scarred and stained gray from the many battles he had seen. The mask that concealed his face didn’t even have an opening for his eyes-- only two vents near his cheeks gave any indication that there was a living being within. Two metal cylinders rested on his belt: lightsabers.

            “Are you ready?”

                    Shrike’s emotionless mask turned briefly towards Aciatus. “Of course I’m ready.” He bent forward to the pilot’s chair, where a woman sat. She was clothed in elaborate black robes, and her skin was dark red. Her youthful, attractive face was pierced by yellow eyes; glinting with the dark power of the Sith.

“Riveya, take the ship out of lightspeed. Land on the surface of the planet. Keep the ship invisible. I want no eyes seeing us as we land.”

                    Riveya Kairis, apprentice to Darth Shrike, kept her eyes on the viewport. “Yes, my Master.” She flipped a lever and adjusted a few instruments. “Pulling out of lightspeed now.”

                    The stars that streaked by the ship suddenly stilled, and soon the ship was floating in real space, swiftly approaching Dathomir at sub-lightspeed.

                    Darth Aciatus moved away from the viewport. “Commander, notify me when we land. I will be in my chambers.”

                    Riveya looked back at him. “Going off to meditate, Aciatus? Why not just join the Jedi, I’ve heard they meditate almost as much as you do.”

                    The apprentice felt the air around her condense and grow dark. Shrike touched the hilts of his twin lightsabers. “Aciatus.“ The voice that left Shrike’s mask was calm, cool, but threatening all the same-- a grim warning that the other Sith Lord did not take lightly.

                    Aciatus shifted his attention, one of the Imperial troops reached for his throat, unable to breathe. He collapsed onto the floor and did not move again. Aciatus turned back to Riveya as two other members of the crew wordlessly dragged the body out of sight. “Don’t test me, Pureblood.” If Shrike didn’t value you as he did, I’d have devoured you already, he thought. He spun on his heel and exited the pilot’s room.

Darth Shrike watched the green, mist-coated globe draw closer out of the broad viewport that opened out of the Voidtalon’s bridge, his mask’s photoreceptors capturing all of the mute beauty of the planet’s lush surface and feeding directly through the empty eye sockets into his brain. He wondered if Aciatus was right, if there really was an ancient relic down there. He supposed it didn’t matter.

He could feel the planet’s strength in the Force from where he stood.

He could almost feel it breathe.

Whatever lay down there, the Sith would find it, and claim it as their own. That was the way it had been since the beginning of this Cold War-- the fury of the Sith incursion had been reined in, redirected into an endless hunt for artifacts of power. Picking over the scraps of dead planets and primitive civilizations, taking what would be useful to the Empire. Those who resisted were destroyed on the spot.

Those who didn’t were destroyed the moment they surrendered their knowledge.

The planet grew larger and larger before the observation window, until it encompassed almost the whole of Shrike’s view.

“We’ve entered high orbit,” Riveya said from habit. Shrike had no need to be told- he’d felt the shift in the hull as the Voidtalon pushed into the atmosphere.

“Direct us down near these coordinates,” Shrike replied, leaning down beside his apprentice and tapping the keys for a few moments.

“Yes, Master.”

The ship sunk lower through Dathomir’s clouds, and the canopies of the dense jungles below drew steadily closer. Shrike turned to the Commander. “Inform Aciatus that we will make landfall within minutes.”

The Commander nodded curtly and exited without a word. Shrike then looked at the navigator, who understood the order without having to hear it and hastily followed his Commander off of the bridge, leaving Shrike and Riveya alone.

The Sith Lord gripped the young woman’s shoulder with his gauntleted hand.

“You would do well not to provoke Aciatus. He is more than a match for you, talented as you are, my apprentice.”

“His desire for my power is palpable, Master. One day, his desire will outstrip his respect for you, and I will die. I despise sitting around waiting for that day to come. Patience in the face of an enemy is not the way of the Sith!” Riveya nearly shouted the last part.

“The Sith do not provoke fights they can never win,” Shrike responded. Riveya didn’t respond, though her grip on the controls stayed hard as iron. She was nearly shaking with the force of her rage. Shrike felt her strength in the dark side wash over him like a flood, a great wave of energy and passion. He breathed deeply of it, revelling in the vast reservoir of his apprentice’s connection to the Force. Her Pureblood lineage’s greatest gift.

“Aciatus is a master of the dark side, and he is as cunning as I am. The two of us together can accomplish immeasurably more than either of us could apart. And he is among the select few who have ever matched me in combat.”

Riveya remained silent, letting the Voidtalon sink closer to the surface, almost skimming the tops of the tall trees. Another may have warned her to gain altitude, but Shrike knew better. His apprentice was the best pilot he’d seen in a decade-- and that was saying something, since she had only begun flying spacecraft two years ago.

“Set it down there, in that clearing,” Shrike commanded, pointing down onto the TacMap of the planet surface. Silently, the Voidtalon moved towards the indicated destination and lowered to the yielding earth, landing gear planting solidly into the ground. With quick, practiced motions Riveya switched off the sublight engines and powered down the ship’s flight systems. Once the Voidtalon was settled, Rivey swiveled the pilot’s chair towards Shrike, her yellow eyes narrow and angry.

“I will not be another sliver of Aciatus’ power. I will not be another sacrifice to sate his hunger.”

“I will not allow him to.”

“But you have said yourself you cannot defeat him.”

“Nor can he defeat me.”

“But that is just it! I do not know why you tolerate him, Master. Together, you and I could--” The rest of what Riveya was about to say was cut off as her Master’s gauntlet closed about her throat and lifted her from her chair.

“You overstep your bounds, girl,” Shrike breathed, his voice deadly. “Do not forget who it is you are speaking to.” His grip relaxed, and Riveya grasped a nearby rail, leaning forward and choking. After a moment, her shining yellow eyes whipped up towards Shrike, and her lightsaber whirled out in a flash of red.

Shrike’s met it in midair.

“You have much to learn, my apprentice, before you earn the right to challenge me.”

Riveya held her glare for a moment, visibly shaking with anger, but then she stepped away and her lightsaber deactivated. Shrike’s dissipated, as well, and he set it once more at his belt.

“You must channel your hate, your anger, not let it simply consume you. Your power is great, child, but all that power is nothing if--”

“--I cannot turn it against my enemies,” Riveya finished. “I know. You have told me before.” She folded her arms in front of her, jaw set crossly. “What purpose is there to my power if it is devoured by him?”

“I told you, that will not happen.” Shrike turned towards the door to the bridge, intending to disembark. Before moving forward, he glanced back at his apprentice. “Stay with the ship while Aciatus and I explore the surface. I will make contact if I require you.” Without another word, he strode to the door.

“Someday, Aciatus will come for me. You know that as well as I do.”

The quietness of Riveya’s voice caused Shrike to pause at the frame of the door as it slid open at his approach. He didn’t look at her, he didn’t turn around, he just hesitated. It had been there, somewhere down, beneath the characteristic bravado. Just a faint echo, barely there, but present nonetheless.

Fear.

No one could have sensed it from her, her peers would never guess, her parents would have not the slightest idea of their daughter’s weakness. Not even the greatest masters of the dark side could have felt it.

But none of them knew Riveya like Shrike did. And he heard the fear through the calm words as if she had screamed. For as long as he had been her Master, he had never seen her shrink from a challenge, never seen her hesitate from a fight, never seen her so much as blink in the face of certain death.

It was a fear held in check only because her pride would not allow it to show through.

Fear that Shrike knew was far from irrational.

“When that day comes, I will stand beside you, Riveya Kairis,” Shrike said. He stepped through the bridge’s door and disappeared down the ship’s hall.

In his meditation chambers, Darth Aciatus wrestled with his hunger.

He was losing.

His meditation, while usually effective at suppressing his urges, was failing him this time.  He sat in the center of his chambers, sitting cross-legged as he lifted himself in the Force. Hovering in the middle of the room, Aciatus tried to focus on the dark side.  Despite his best efforts, he could still feel his hunger gnawing at him from the inside.  He couldn’t exit his quarters in this state; he might lose control and attack Shrike’s apprentice, the Pureblood. At the moment, he couldn’t remember her name, and he didn’t care. He could smell her in the Force, her natural connection to the dark side practically called to him...

Aciatus’ special connection to the Force was his hunger. He had the ability to devour other Force-sensitive, bolstering his own power with theirs. The process killed those he devoured. When Aciatus sensed a Force-sensitive being, he would attempt to devour them. Of course, Aciatus knew better than to try and devour his Masters, as trying to do so would get him killed. He refrained from attacking his Masters.

Aciatus’ fellow students, however, were not so lucky.

Throughout his training, Aciatus was often pitted against other students, forced to duel to the death. It is the way of the Sith: in order to ensure that the strongest survived, the Masters would weed out the weak through combat. Whenever Aciatus battled a student, he would pin them down with his power, and rip them apart, devouring their essence until they were nothing more than pure energy. Aciatus would then consume that energy, taking in their power to build up his own.

Aciatus had graduated from his training by killing every student that was to graduate with him. Every student had fallen to his dark will.

Save one-- Shrike.

Even after his training, even after being awarded the title Darth and taking the name Aciatus, the Dark Lord was still haunted by his hunger. The hunger continued to whisper to him, compelling him to devour more energy from his enemies, until there are no enemies left to devour in any given conflict.

When that happens, Aciatus is nearly driven mad.

He can escape the whispers, the gnawing hunger in his body, if he meditates. If he can immerse himself, mind and body, completely in the dark side, he can feel sated. The hunger leaves him, and he collects upon his dark power to rest and collect himself.

When he is around others, the hunger returns.

He hates his hunger. He hates the fact that he is constantly desiring more power. At the same time, he loves it. He cannot deny that he loves the constant acquisition of power. He loves and hates his hunger, but he loves the power it produces, so he takes his gift in stride.

   A gift, his masters call it. Aciatus sees it as a curse. If he didn’t have the constant hunger for power, he could walk around his fellow Sith without wanting to rip their bodies apart. However, with his hunger he grows more powerful with each passing fight.

Aciatus broke from his meditation, landing silently on the floor.  Frustrated with his attempts at serenity, he moved across the room to a box in the farthest corner.  Lifting an armored hand, Aciatus called the box to him.  It floated through the air and landed as his feet, opening and spilling the contents upward.  From the items sitting in the air he selected a black pyramid.  The pyramid had several glowing red symbols across the bottom, and a shining black crystal sat at the apex, staring back at Aciatus like an unblinking eye.  The air around the pyramid swelled with the power of the dark side.

With one hand suspending the pyramid while the other items drifted to the floor, Aciatus brought up his other hand.  Force lightning sprang from his fingertips, tracing along the pyramid like fingers caressing a face. Eventually, the dark energies from Aciatus’ lightning unlocked the Sith holocron, and the black gem at the apex began to glow as it activated.

Aciatus was not the first Sith to have been possessed by a hunger.  The first had been Darth Nihilus, a Dark Lord who had lived before the War, centuries before Aciatus’ time.  Nihilus did not have the hunger naturally, however.  It was from an accident in the Mandalorian Wars that Nihilus was cursed with his hunger.  The Dark Lord had been affected so much that he had lost the ability of speech, and his mere presence drained the life of those around him.  He had grown powerful, powerful enough to devour an entire planet of its life force.  He was the first Lord of Hunger, and he was regarded by many as a wound in the Force.  Aciatus was not nearly as powerful as Nihilus had been, but he still had a certain level of control on his hunger as well.

Or so he hoped.

During his training on Korriban, Aciatus had been given the holocron of Darth Nihilus by Darth Mortis, a member of the Dark Council, in an attempt to discover a way to control his hunger.  Aciatus had studied the holocron fervently, but the spirit of Nihilus was of no assistance, because of his lack of speech.  Aciatus had been forced to pour through the holocron’s records without a guide, which proved difficult.  Still, Aciatus took advantage of the help, even if he was using the holocron blind.

The black crystal glowed brighter, and Aciatus hungrily awaited the knowledge inside.  Soon, he could access all of Nihulus’ memories on the hunger-

“My Lord? We’ve landed on Dathomir.”

Aciatus inhaled slowly, trying to calm himself.  He could see the commander behind him, in the Force.  With a brief bow to the holocron, Aciatus turned on the commander, extending a hand.  The officer was lifted into the air, unable to move as he drifted slowly toward Aciatus.

“My dear Commander, how many times must I ask that you leave me be when I am speaking to my Masters?” The man didn’t have to know that he was communicating with the dead; Nihilus was still a superior in Aciatus’ eyes, even if he was nothing more than a hologram now.

The commander stammered.

“I-I’m sorry, my Lord... But y-you did tell m-me to notify you w-when we reached D-Dathomir...”

Aciatus sighed.  The commander was right. He was looking forward to making the commander an example to the other officers.

Then again, he had been told by his Masters to stop killing his own men.

Aciatus released the commander and moved to the bridge.  Shrike was there, ready to depart onto Dathomir.  The Pureblood apprentice seemed to think she was going as well; she had moved to stand next to Shrike.

Aciatus waved a hand to Riveya as he passed her.  “You’ll not be joining us.”

Riveya’s eyes flared.  She took a step forward, nearly stuttering with rage.  “You cannot order me-”

Aciatus had turned so quickly that Riveya stopped in her tracks, leaning backwards as he towered over her.  She looked very small, and very vulnerable in that moment.  Aciatus fought with his hunger as he stared her down.  It would be such a simple matter to suck the power right out of her-

He felt Shrike’s burnt eyes watching him as he drew a quick breath, composing himself.

“You,” he said through clenched teeth, “will listen to me, Pureblood.  You will not tell me who I can and cannot command.  I do not need your arrogance or your lack of abilities here.”  He spun on his heel and walked smoothly out of the Voidtalon.

Aciatus could hear Shrike’s voice in the background, telling his apprentice, “Aciatus tells me that there are unknown dangers guarding what we seek, I cannot risk you dying on this search.  I would have stopped you myself.  Stay with the ship, and be ready for our return.”

Aciatus smiled to himself as Riveya responded with obvious struggle.  “Yes, my Master.”

Shrike soon joined him on the planet’s surface, and they began their walk to their destination.

The surface of Dathomir was blanketed in fog, and the Sith could not see the ground in front of them, much less the landscape ahead of them.  They used the Force to sense their surroundings, picking their way through the dense jungle, lifting fallen trees out of their path when necessary and jumping across pools of venomous green liquid to avoid detours. The planet’s atmosphere was very humid and damp, and the Sith were quickly assaulted by the hot temperatures. Despite the heat, they did not slow their pace, instead continuing as fast as they started.

They were silent for a short time, but Shrike, while moving yet another tree trunk out of their way, said quietly, “Why are we here, Aciatus? What is this relic you speak of?”

Aciatus began to move across the recently cleared space as he said, “We are searching for the ruins of the Star Temples.  Our Intelligence network picked up some messages of the Republic searching for what is called the Infinity Gate.  With a bit of research of our own, the Empire has deduced that the Infinity Gate rests in the Star Temples of Dathomir.” He turned to face Shrike, his mask bearing no expression, his voice matter-of-fact, idle.

Shrike pressed further.  “What is so important about this Infinity Gate that the Empire sends the two of us to find it?”

“The race that created the Infinity Gate intended it for instant, interstellar travel.  A portal, if you will.  They were successful in creating it for that use, but the Infinity Gate possesses another function.  It can become a vacuum, swallowing the planet housing it, the planets surrounding it, and even that system’s sun. The Empire wishes for us to find the Infinity Gate, and retrieve enough of it’s designs to create one of our own.”

“So we can use it as a weapon,” Shrike finished.

Aciatus nodded.  “Exactly.  However, the Star Temples had many defenses built into it to ensure nobody would try and do what we are doing.  That is why the Empire sent us, the defenses require skills of our caliber to breach.”

“I prefer the missions where we are on the front lines of a battlefield, not trips to the empty corners of the galaxy searching for lost relics.” Shrike stopped, his hand reaching for one of his lightsabers on his belt. “Aciatus, we’re not alone: I sense a trap.”

“I had considered the possibility long before we landed on this forsaken jungle. I thought you were up to the challenge.” Aciatus turned to eye Shrike, and immediately yelled, “Move!”

Shrike was already in the air as Aciatus had shouted, just as a large tree trunk came smashing down on the spot where he had stood. From the brush came a hulking creature, walking on four limbs through the trees. It was dark brown, with short, stubby legs and long forearms. Its face was very flat, with a large snout filled with razor-sharp teeth. The creature reared on its hind legs and roared, sending a horrible stench in a wave across Aciatus.

Aciatus shouted to the trees, “Brilliant, Shrike! We’ve managed to attract the locals!” A second roar rose from behind him, and Aciatus turned just in time to see a second creature stand up from the shadows.

Aciatus took a step toward the second rancor, who raised its arms and tried to smash Aciatus with both of its fists. It let out a shriek of rage as its attack met nothing but empty space, and the Sith Lord jumped through the air, launching himself straight at the rancor’s flat face. The beast roared at Aciatus, but it’s cry was abruptly cut short as an unseen force ripped its jaw from its head, shooting the jawbone directly up into the beast’s skull. The rancor teetered, and fell onto its back, with its jaw lodged somewhere in its brain.

Aciatus landed and turned to face the first rancor, but was interrupted by a rustling above him. Shrike leapt out of the trees overhead, landing directly on the rancor’s head. Raising both lightsabers above his head, Shrike rammed them down between the beast’s eyes. The second rancor fell with a two smoldering holes in its head, shaking the earth as it landed.

Shrike jumped from the corpse and fell into step beside Aciatus, nonchalantly deactivating his lightsabers and replacing them at his belt. “Now, you didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?” He lifted his head to the sound of more roars from the trees. “We’d better get moving, I certainly did not intend to spend my whole day fighting rancors.”

Aciatus nodded, and the two set off at a brisk pace, moving faster through the jungle. They no longer bothered to clear trees, they simply swung their way through the branches that were in their way. Aciatus let the Force flow through him as he gained speed.  Shrike kept pace with him, enhancing his own speed with his dark power as they raced through the trees at a blinding speed.  Soon, the roars of the rancors were nothing more than distant whispers.

Aciatus heard a faint beeping to his right, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Shrike remove a comlink from his belt. A blue ghost of Riveya appeared, sitting in the pilot’s chair of the Voidtalon.  Shrike muttered to the comlink and Riveya’s ghost winked out, and Shrike returned the device to his belt.

“Riveya is tracking our progress, and she picked up some life forms ahead of us. We must be getting close.”

Aciatus thought for a moment. “It’s either the Star Temple’s defenses, or someone beat us to the prize.”

Shrike’s hands went to his lightsabers on his belt.  “I wouldn’t mind fighting for the secrets to the Infinity Gate.  Some excitement would be welcome on this trip.”

They reached a clearing, but the jungle did not continue past the clearing. Instead, a series of colossal pyramids rose up before them.  They had blank surfaces, and were organized to fall on top of each other, to form one massive structure.  In the Force, the entire complex surged with power.

They had found the Star Temples.

Aciatus moved closer to the pyramid, and Shrike followed suit, strafing to the right. They walked slowly, reaching into the Force to try and find the defenses before they sprung. Even with their combined power, however, they were too late. The ground began to tremble, and Aciatus could feel something very alive, and very large, heading directly for their location from under the ground.

“Shrike -”

Before Aciatus could say anymore, giant creatures sprang from the ground, arcing through the air to dive back into the ground.  Before they disappeared, Aciatus got a good look at their appearance.  The creatures were long, limbless, and covered in what looked like brown armor. They had no eyes, but their maws were filled with rows upon rows of teeth. Aciatus was knocked into the sky by the impact, but used the Force to slow his decent back to the ground.  Shrike had managed to dodge his attacker by mere inches, but was still knocked back to the ground.  He sprang back to his feet, both lightsabers ignited.

“What are these now?”

“From what I remember on what I read of the planet, these are whuffa worms.  The creators of the Infinity Gate employed these creatures to guard the Star Temples.  They are very intelligent, very fast, and the have nearly impenetrable skin: they’re immune to lightsabers.”

Shrike let out a brief laugh. “We’ll see about that.” He swung his blades to guard and raced toward the Star Temples. Aciatus followed, but refrained from drawing his lightsaber. He felt the dark side around him, and he drew upon the power within him. He brought the energy to his hands, and waited for the worms to return.

The whuffa worms attacked at the same time as before, but the Sith were ready. Shrike dove straight for a worm, his blades angled at the beast’s mouth, and at the last minuted dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding the worm’s maw. He swung both lightsabers down in an arc, but shouted in rage as the blades bounced off of the worm’s skin without leaving so much as a scratch. The worm let out a fierce cry and doubled back from its dive with surprising speed, given its size.  Shrike snarled a curse and leapt out of the beast’s attack.

            A few yards away, Aciatus was battling a second worm. The creature had lunged for Aciatus, but he had jumped straight into the air, landing on the beast’s back.  The worm reared, trying to throw Aciatus off, but he kept his balance as the worm’s head rocked back and forth. Concentrating on the worm’s head beneath his feet, Aciatus jumped, just as he extended both of his hands at the worm.

            The creature’s head slammed downward, shaking the ground and knocking Shrike and Aciatus both off of their feet. The second worm took this opportunity to strike, moving for Shrike. Its maw was open, ready to devour the Sith Lord, when it suddenly froze in its place.

            Shrike turned. Aciatus was standing behind him, hands raised, holding the beast in the air. The first worm was already beginning to recover from its crash, and started to stir. With a hint of strain in his voice, Aciatus muttered, “Shrike, would you please find an entrance to the Temples, before our trip is cut short?”

            Shrike dashed to the edge of the pyramids, feeling along the walls for an opening. There was no trace of a door from the outside. Reaching into the Force, Shrike sensed a hollow spot in a wall. Igniting both of his lightsabers, he plunged the two blades into the wall, arcing the cuts to form a circle. A simple command from his mind crushed the newly cut circle inward, providing an opening to the pyramid. Aciatus saw the opening out of the corner of his eye. With a quick twist of thought, he threw the second worm into the first worm, tangling the two beasts on the ground. The Sith then dashed into the hole Shrike had created, entering the Temples.

            The worms tried to give chase but succeeded only in bouncing off the stone wall, their bulk disallowing any further pursuit of the two Sith. Unopposed, Aciatus and Shrike forged ahead.

The stone halls inside of the pyramid were narrow, and the Sith were nearly forced to walk single file down the passage. The cold stone provided a much cooler atmosphere than the open landscape, and the hall was dimly lit, with lanterns of open flame flickering faintly against the walls. The smell of wet moss was apparent, making the air very damp and heavy.

            Aciatus and Shrike moved slowly down the hall, trying to sense their surroundings. A ripple in the Force caused both Sith to look at one another. They had felt another presence in the Temples. Another Force-sensitive being.

            A Jedi.

            Shrike motioned to Aciatus, and pointed to the shadows in between the lamps. Aciatus nodded, and continued walking down the path. Shrike disappeared into the darkness, following Aciatus down the hall.

            Aciatus noticed that the path was slowly getting wider, and the air was growing more fresh, almost having an ionized smell to it. There was more light in the hall, but the lamps were contributing the same illumination as before. A faint blue glow could be seen at the end of the hallway, where a large door was visible. Aciatus quickened his pace, sensing Shrike do the same from behind him.

            As he approached the door, Aciatus could feel the same power he had felt from Dathomir’s orbit. It was as if he was approaching the source of that power, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep himself from racing into the room ahead. His hunger willed him to abandon caution, but he knew better.

            The door blended in with the dark stone walls, making the edges difficult to see.  Aciatus raised his right hand, and felt the door’s lines beneath the stone.  He willed the passage to be open, and the door lifted from the wall and drifted soundlessly to the left, quietly settling down against the wall. A shape blurred in front of Aciatus; Shrike had moved into the room.  Aciatus stepped through the new opening as well, taking in the sight before them.  They had found the Infinity Gate.

            The room was circular, and very expansive. As Aciatus looked around, he saw that they appeared to be in the center of the Star Temple. The ceiling was not visible, for it rose until the space above them was a blackened mystery. In the center of the room, there was a smaller structure, a metal bracket in the shape of a hexagon. The bracket was faintly glowing with a blue hue, and the power radiating from it was making Aciatus nearly lose control. He quickened his pace to the Infinity Gate, anxious to examine the ancient device, while Shrike seemed to have spotted something above and began ascending the walls and interconnected stone rafters into the dark ceiling.

As Aciatus reached the device, his senses picked up unfamiliar movement behind him. It could not have been Shrike, as the other Sith was already invisible above.

            This was something else. A threat.

            Aciatus turned slowly back towards the door, his robes swishing around his tall frame. His eyes behind the mask confirmed what he could already feel-- four Jedi now stood at the door at the door where Shrike and he had entered. As he met their eyes, all four activated their lightsabers simultaneously, the brilliant colors flaring suddenly against the shadows of the chamber. One made a quick gesture behind him, and the door to the room crashed shut.

            “You do not belong here, Sith,” the foremost Jedi called to him, her green saber held aloft and ready. From their robes and the way they had arrayed themselves in front of the door, the four appeared to be two Masters and their apprentices-- three men and the woman. The apprentices’ eyes were raking Aciatus with hatred and fear; the poor fools had probably never actually encountered a Sith Lord until now. The Masters were both calm, their faces completely blank of emotion. Each Master began to flank Aciatus, with their apprentices following them. Soon, Aciatus had a Master and apprentice pair on either side of him.  

            Aciatus remained facing forward, but cast his black cloak behind him, clearing his arms. “Please, noble Masters, call off your pets and grant me escape.” His voice was full of mockery as he continued to disregard the Jedi.

            The woman’s apprentice had strain all over his face. He looked to the woman. “Master Ferral, please! There are four of us and only one of him! We can take him down!”

            Aciatus chuckled. “Oh, you foolish youngling, What makes you think I am alone?”

            Shrike fell silently from above, landing next to Aciatus and activating both of his lightsabers. The twin blades reflected a red glow in Shrike’s mask as he brought them to guard. Aciatus drew his lightsaber from within his robes and activated one of the blades. The synthetic bloodshine burned in his hand, and he felt the dark side flow through him.

            The Jedi called Ferral motioned to the other Master. “Kalen and I will take the Master,” she pointed her lightsaber at Aciatus. “Ryo, Renn, you take the apprentice.”

            Ryo nodded. “Be careful, Alluria.”

            She laughed. “I don’t need to exercise caution with these scum. They will be no problem.”

            Aciatus and Shrike glanced at each other. Shrike made a motion with his hand, waving aside the remark. Aciatus understood. It was not the first time Shrike had been mistaken as his apprentice, but the deception would serve them all the same. Besides, Shrike seemed to recognize the second Master’s name. Aciatus wondered where the familiarity could have come from, but he paid this thought no mind.

            His hunger was calling him.

            Aciatus swung his blade into a salute, and beckoned the woman and her apprentice.

            All of them moved at once, and the fight was on.

            Shrike felt his fury course through him the moment he laid eyes upon the Jedi master, Ryo Sulas, and the mechanical arm that Shrike had forced him to use. Beneath the emotionless mask, a dark smile spread across his face. At last, his opportunity for revenge was at hand.

            Battle was joined an instant later, as Shrike made a swift and sudden charge, spurred on by the Force, with his twin sabers flashing out. Master Ryo Sulas and his apprentice met the charge without flinching, each blocking one of Shrike’s sabers as the gap closed. As he broke away and flowed immediately into another assault, he sent a blast of Force energy crashing into Renn. The boy failed utterly to defend himself from it, and was summarily sent flying across the room into the chamber’s darkness.

            Shrike and Ryo Sulas fought for control of the battle, the Jedi Master’s blue double-bladed saber moving with practiced grace and agility, spinning and twirling through the air to deflect the Sith Lord’s attacks. As fast as he was, however, Shrike and his twin blades were faster still. The speed and fluidity of his strokes belied the strength and fury behind them, and Sulas found himself giving ground rapidly before the onslaught.

            His lightsaber was nearly torn from his grip by an exceptionally strong overhand slash by Shrike, and the Jedi’s stance wavered. Shrike’s other blade whipped around to exploit the opening instantly.

            The Jedi Master was saved by Renn, reappearing from the left to halt Shrike’s saber in its path. Working in tandem, the Jedi began a deliberate flank to trap Shrike between them. The Sith Lord easily anticipated the maneuver, however, and a Force-propelled leap moved him far beyond the range of his attackers.

            He landed a dozen yards away, rising slowly to stare silently at the Jedi across from him, his sabers settling into a low, forward stance reflective of his fighting style-- a hybrid of Juyo, Jar’kai and Djem So.

            “You are stronger than I anticipated, Sith,” Ryo Sulas called to him. “Your master has trained you well.” He paused, trying to judge Shrike’s reaction. When nothing was forthcoming, he continued speaking. “You should know, however, that no mere apprentice will best a Jedi Master.”

            Then suddenly Shrike was in front of him, his twin lightsabers sweeping out to strike. Sulas was taken by surprise by the speed at which Shrike had closed the gap—it had seemed like the Sith Lord had simply teleported right to him. Ryo raised his saber to ward off the blow, seeing too late the force waves rippling around Shrike’s lightsabers. When the weapons collided, a shockwave washed over the Jedi as the ground vanished beneath his feet.

                        He flew for at least ten yards before skidding on his back and rolling, managing to right himself onto one knee after a few more feet. As he looked up to regain his bearings, Shrike was already upon him. Ryo defended himself desperately, using every technique and trick he could think of to stop the Sith Lord. Renn tried to intervene once again, but Shrike barely acknowledged him as his form flew to deliver a whirling kick to the head that sent the young Jedi careening out of the battle again.

                        Shrike brought both sabers down with terrible strength onto Ryo’s blade, and the Jedi Master felt the servos in his mechanical hand whine in protest. The clash brought his face mere inches away from Shrike’s emotionless mask.

                        “You make the mistake of assuming I am an apprentice, Ryo Sulas,” Shrike breathed. Ryo gritted his teeth, and sent a blast of Force energy between them. Shrike halted it from striking him, but was forced to give Ryo room to back away and regain his stance. The Sith did not press the attack immediately. Instead, he began to step casually to the right, his sabers held loosely at his sides, deceptively relaxed.

                        “I do not recall giving you my name, Sith,” Ryo called.

                        “Not today, no. but this is not the first time we have met.” Shrike made his right saber float out in front of him, revolving vertically through the air in slow circles. Ryo’s eyes narrowed at the Sith, not understanding. Shrike smiled beneath his mask. “Take a look at this blade, Ryo. Surely you recognize it? After all, you had a perfect view of it when it went through your elbow on Hoth.”

                        Ryo’s eyes went wide for an instant as Shrike’s words reached his ears, then they narrowed again in thinly-veiled anger.

                        “Darth Shrike,” he spat, attempting to bottle up the anger. “I thought we might meet again.”

                        “You!”

                        Shrike had only barely heard the shout before Renn was at him, his green saber cutting at his defenses. The sudden attack surprised Shrike—while he was able to defend himself easily, Renn’s Shien-style blows were powerful, and left next to no room for his enemy to counter. His youthful face was contorted with rage, vengeance burning in his eyes. A sudden strike brought their lightsabers together in a stalemate.

                        “You murdered my sister!” Renn roared.

            Shrike lashed out with his sabers and broke the apprentice’s guard. Instantly his lightsaber hilt struck the side of the boy’s head, then a Force-amplified kick blasted him towards his master. Renn was on his feet again faster than Shrike had expected, rolling up in front Ryo, ready to charge again.

            Ryo, however, restrained him with a hand on his shoulder.

            “Control yourself, Renn! Do not let your anger blind you, for that is the way of the Dark Side,” the Jedi Master warned. Renn closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to suppress his rage.

            “How can I be calm when Mila’s killer is standing right in front of me?” he asked of his master, his eyes opening to glare at Shrike once again.

            “There is no emotion...” Ryo replied.

            “There is peace,” Renn finished, but seemed unmoved by the words.

            “We shall defeat him, Renn. But we shall do so together, and not for revenge. It will be to protect the people of the Republic from him and his kind.”

Silently, Renn nodded in understanding.

            Shrike watched the Master and apprentice fan out towards his sides as their conversation concluded. The Sith did not settle back into stance-- not just yet.

            “You will never best me as you are, boy. Your sister’s death can never be avenged by a Jedi,” he said calmly. “You have great power, kept restrained and wasted, all because your Masters fear what you could do with it-- fear that you could become greater than them.” Though the Jedi continued to advance on him, Shrike saw his words touch a nerve in the boy, as Renn’s grip tightened on his lightsaber and his glare intensified. “Your Master lies to you,” Shrike mocked.

            “Do not listen to him, Renn. His words are poison.” Ryo stepped to the side, saber rising in readiness as he stared Shrike down.

            “Do you not hear his fear?” the Sith Lord mocked. “Fear of what you could accomplish. Fear of what you might learn.”

            “Shut up!” Renn shouted, and charged suddenly.

            “Renn, no!” Ryo shouted, surging forward in a vain attempt to catch his apprentice.

            Shrike was far faster, seemingly teleporting directly to the young man’s front.

            The apprentice’s eyes widened in shock in the moment before Shrike struck, so stunned by the Sith Lord’s speed that he had no chance to recover and defend himself.

                        “Unworthy,” Shrike scoffed. His lightsaber soared across the gap, cutting Renn’s lightsaber in half before the Sith’s other hand came up, sending a wave of lightning erupting out of his fingertips. The electricity caught the Jedi full in the chest, eliciting an ear-splitting scream as each of the boy’s nerves seared with the shock. Renn collapsed backward to the stone just as Ryo Sulas reached his attacker.

                        Instantly Shrike transitioned into a Makashi dueling stance, swiftly deflecting Sulas’ strikes and smoothly retaliating with two forward thrusts, one after another, that forced the Jedi to back up. Shrike retreated a step , twirling one blade down to the side. With the apprentice disarmed and incapacitated, Shrike could focus all of his will toward revenge.

                        Shrike jolted forward again, one lightsaber thrusting while the other stayed up to guard. As Sulas deflected the stab the Sith’s other blade swept down, only narrowly missing the Jedi’s head as the saberstaff’s other blue blade came up to push the attack aside. Shrike did not relent, flowing into strike after strike without leaving his opponent any time to counter. A blast of Force energy pushed the Sith Lord away, but he still did not let up, sending his lightsaber out and to the side, spinning through the air towards Sulas. The Jedi planted his feet and deftly deflected the throw, but only barely saw Shrike’s second saber darting forward like a lance. His deflection was only a split-second in time, and left him no room to recover before Shrike was at him again.

                        The Sith Lord was a blur of motion, leaping, diving and spinning, transitioning between combat forms like it was as easy as flipping a switch. Just to survive, Ryo adopted the stalwart stance of the Soresu form.

                        Just as Shrike had hoped he would.

            The Sith Lord leapt back , leaving just enough room for him to throw his lightsaber out to the side once again, his other saber shooting out straight at Ryo to strike him simultaneously from two angles once again.

            Ryo focused his defenses on the blades. “You have used this trick before!” The Jedi’s saber deflected both of the attacks with one fluid motion of his Soresu form.

            At that moment both of his thighs exploded in horrendous pain as searing heat slashed through them. The ground disappeared beneath him, bringing his cheek against the cold stone floor. He tried to move and failed, only managing to roll onto his back. The pain already began to recede, and as he rose slightly he saw his legs on the cavern floor.

            With a sickening jolt he realized they were no longer attached to the rest of him.

            Shrike straightened, spinning his third saber away from the backhanded Shien grip and deftly catching his first and second sabers, hooking them back to his belt. A small gesture with the Force brought Ryo’s fallen saberstaff into his gauntleted hand.

            Ryo let his head fall back against the stone, feeling the first stages of shock begin to grip his body. He had been outplayed. While he had been occupied deflecting Shrike’s thrown sabers, the Sith had darted behind him and ignited a third saber, severing both of the Jedi’s legs in one clean stroke.

            “Your mistake was assuming it was the same attack,” Shrike remarked dryly, without looking at his opponent. “It is over, Sulas. You have lost.”

            “Master!”

Shrike glanced over to see Renn on his feet again, rushing to his master and falling to his knees beside him. The Sith Lord let him be for the moment, allowing him to speak to his Master unchallenged.

            “Master... no!” Renn breathed.

            “I think the boy deserves to know the truth, Sulas. And this is your last chance to tell him,” Shrike said, relishing the look of guilt that panged across the Jedi’s face.

            “Shut up, monster!” Renn shouted, rounding on Shrike as if to strike him with his voice.

            “No, Renn,” Ryo said, his breath becoming strained and ragged as shock set in. “He’s right. You have to know this.”

            “What?”

            “On Hoth, when your sister and I left you at the ship, when we fought Darth Shrike... when he took my hand and lightsaber... I told you Mila continued the fight.”

            “Yes, and he killed her. Master you have told me this before,” Renn said. Ryo, however, shook his head.

            “It was a lie. Mila surrendered herself to Shrike, in exchange for me.”

            “And he refused,” Renn said, his teeth gritting in anger. “My sister was killed in cold blood.” Shrike could feel his emotions seethe. Beneath his mask, the Sith Lord smiled.

            A weak, pained laugh escpaed Ryo’s lips.

            “Yes, in cold blood... but not by him,” he whispered, and looked away from Renn as if he could not bear to meet his eyes. “Mila would have given the Empire everything-- secrets of our Order, secrets of the Force, all she’d been taught! Tython, Renn! She would have given them Tython!”

Ryo let his head fall against the stone. “All of my training, all of my self-control, all of my years of meditation and serenity, became meaningless in that moment. In thoughtless fury, I ran to her, took her lightsaber and struck her down.”

For a very long time after those words fell into silence, Renn didn’t even move. He was a statue, eyes frozen on his Master, emotions writhing and twisting, battling within his mind.

“You killed Mila,” he breathed at last.

Ryo closed his eyes and slowly nodded.

“You killed my sister! Your own Padawan!” Renn screamed.

“Now you see the Jedi as they truly are,” Shrike remarked quietly.

“Renn... that terrible sin has haunted me, that failure has torn me apart inside. I vowed... to never falter again. To never... fail another apprnetice like I failed Mila.”

“You did not fail her, you murdered her!” Renn roared.

            “I am so sorry... so sorry, Renn. Do not let me fail again... Do not fall into this Sith’s hands... walk the path of Light, of forgiveness... like your sister wanted you to,” Ryo begged. Renn did not respond for a moment, but he began to tremble, and his eyes closed.

            “You dare ask for forgiveness for what you’ve done? You dare use my sister’s own words as your shield, when it was you who destroyed her?” His eyes flew open, and Ryo Sulas’ lightsaber was torn from Shrike’s grip, igniting in midair before Renn caught it in both hands, raised above his head. “What you have done can never be forgiven!” The force of the boy’s shout made the chamber shake.

            “Then I have failed you, as well,” Ryo breathed, closing his eyes again. “There is no death, there is--” He never finished the phrase, as Renn brought the lightsaber down, severing his Master’s head from his body.

            For a few moments, there was no sound in the cavernous chamber, save the distant sounds of Aciatus battling the other two Jedi. At last, Renn’s blade dissipated.

            “The Jedi failed you. Betrayed you,” Shrike said. “You know you cannot go back.”

            Numbly, Renn nodded without looking up.

            “But you are strong. Very strong. Your power is wasted among the Jedi and would be wasted in death. Come with me, and we will accomplish incredible things. We will make the galaxy shake before us.”

            Renn pushed himself up, slow, almost unsteadily to his feet. His eyes rose to look at Shrike, and they were hollow, empty.

            “I am your weapon,” he breathed.

            Shrike reached with the Force and brought Sulas’ lightsaber into his hand, activating it to point at Renn’s face, lighting his features in phantasmal blue from barely inches away. He didn’t even blink.

            for a moment or two, Shrike held the blade close to the boy, probing for weakness, for doubt. But there was nothing-- his eyes only showed emptiness, and the first signs of cold hatred. Satisfied Shrike deactivated the saberstaff and set it at his belt alongside his other weapons. He stepped forward, placing one gauntlet on Renn’s shoulder.

            “Come, my apprentice. Your new path awaits.”

            Shrike turned aside, walking towards the center of the chamber to watch the conclusion of Aciatus’ battle.

            Renn paused for only a moment before following in the Sith Lord’s footsteps, leaving his old life behind.

            Kalen and Alluria moved to flank Aciatus, but the Sith Lord simply stood still and brought his blade to guard. While the Jedi prepared to attack, Aciatus reached into the Force, and concentrated. He knew that the Jedi would be slow to attack and careful in their delivery, as they had assumed that Aciatus was the Master of Shrike. He smiled to himself. Shrike would destroy the other two Jedi without any trouble, and Aciatus knew that he was about to feast on the energies of his adversaries.

            In his mind, Aciatus felt the Force wash over him. He had always envisioned the dark side as a well, infinitely deep and full of power completely at his grasp. The further he mentally submerged himself in the well, the more power he took hold of. Aciatus felt himself fully submerged whenever he meditated, or when he made the conscious decision to grasp the dark side’s full measure of power. He made these decisions with caution, as he had often been warned about grasping too much power too fast. For this current battle, he contained himself to mentally wading only knee-deep into the well.

            The Jedi moved to strike, and he raised his blade to parry. While he often wielded his saberstaff with both blades, this time he kept the second blade sheathed. He was sure that the Jedi were not foolish enough to be ignorant of his blade style, but he wanted to lure them into believing he was overconfident and only using one of his blades. As they adapted their fighting style to his single blade, he would activate both blades and take them by surprise.

            Kalen moved first, feinting to his left before whipping his lightsaber around to his right, aimed right for Aciatus’ neck. The Sith read the move easily, and met Kalen’s blade, flicking it to the side before pivoting around to meet Alluria’s attack. Pushing Alluria away, Aciatus angled his lightsaber back to guard.

            “Come now, Jedi,” he said, backtracking enough to have both his opponents in his line of sight. “Put me out of my misery.”

            His mockery hit its mark. Kalen launched himself through the air, his blue blade glowing brightly above his head. Aciatus lifted his hand, and snatched Kalen right out of his leap, throwing him instead into his master. The two tumbled over each other, crashing into the wall before recovering.

            Aciatus beckoned to them again.

            Snarling a curse, Kalen leapt up to the wall nearest to him, rebounding off the wall to launch himself yet again at Aciatus. Alluria, meanwhile, had thrown her blade at the Sith. As Aciatus deflected the green blade, he dropped to the ground as if fainting, shifting his momentum into a roll as he hit the floor. Kalen shot over him, and barely managed to deflect the sweeping strikes Aciatus made at his legs. Alluria caught her blade as it was sent back to her, running towards Aciatus. As he deflected an overhand strike from Kalen, Aciatus turned around and struck Alluria with the heel of his boot.

            While Aciatus kept the Jedi at bay, he studied their different styles. Kalen was an obvious practitioner of Ataru, with his constant somersaults and flips. Aciatus knew the Ataru form well, and knew that exploitation of its weaknesses would involve maneuvering Kalen into his attacks. Alluria was proficient in Djem So, a style that emphasized a steady and aggressive offense. The style’s primary weakness, however, was its lack of mobility. Between their two fighting styles, the Jedi might fare well in any other fight. In this battle, they were horribly outmatched.

            In the Force, Aciatus was wading in the well of dark power, and the Jedi were small lamps of light, glowing faintly around the waters. Aciatus was hardly tapping into his power, and he was controlling the fight with little difficulty. However, he had a mission to complete, and his hunger was wearing away his patience faster than he had anticipated. He took a step deeper into the well, waist-high in the water. He drew the Force into himself until it permeated his very being, and in that moment, the Sith became a living shadow.

            A shadow with a ravenous hunger resembling a black hole, that spelled inescapable doom for the two small lamps surrounding it.

            Aciatus crouched, sending a shout through the Force into the ground beneath him. That shout pushed the Jedi to the far side of the room, where they began to charge at him once again. Aciatus brought his blade up, and with a flourish he activated the second blade in his saberstaff, spinning the weapon above his head before bringing it down to guard. The Jedi, having prepared themselves to engage a single blade, were caught unawares with the appearance of an extra blade. After their initial surprise passed, the Jedi adapted themselves to the Sith’s new fighting style: a blend of Makashi finesse with the unorthodox flow of his saberstaff.

            Kalen was having much more trouble matching Aciatus blade to blade. His Ataru form, with its ridiculous acrobatics, could not hold its own against the range of Aciatus’ weapon. He flipped over the Sith’s head, trying a cut at his head, but Aciatus blocked the strike, and Kalen nearly lost his own legs to the other half of the saberstaff. He turned to meet Aciatus with an ankle sweep, but a wave of the Force shot him into the air. Kalen turned in mid air, ready to strike as he landed, but was forced to twist out of range as Aciatus stabbed at the air with his blade.

            Alluria, on the other hand, was continuing a steady offensive rhythm with her Djem So. Aciatus did not have the raw kinetic power to meet Djem So head to head, but he did have a second blade at his disposal. He used one of the blades to deflect Alluria’s strikes away, while attempting to find an opening in her defense for his second blade. Alluria’s defenses proved strong, however, and he could not land an attack. Aciatus found himself distantly thinking that the best defense truly was a strong offense.

            Aciatus spun his weapon above his head, creating a wide berth for himself as the Jedi backed away. Aciatus closed his eyes. In his mind, he took a step deeper into the well, now up to his head in the waters of the Force. Power coursed through his being, and the shadow within him grew stronger. He gathered the Force within himself, wrapping himself in dark energies, as he looked at the two lamps before him. Aciatus felt his hunger clawing at the back of his mind. He could no longer deny its presence.

            Aciatus eyed the Jedi as they circled him. The master, Alluria, was clearly the more powerful Jedi. However, he could feel the apprentice’s anger from across the room, and it was very appealing. If he could just combine the apprentice’s anger and the master’s power, Aciatus felt he might be able to sate his hunger temporarily. But, there was no way to force a Jedi to feel that much anger-

            A thought crept into his mind. Jedi restraint is rarely broken, but when it is, it is broken forever. All it takes is one traumatic event, say, the death of that Jedi’s dear apprentice, to push that Jedi over the edge of restraint and into anger. Aciatus smiled.

            Alluria threw her lightsaber at him, and with a deft motion Aciatus caught the energy blade in his cortosis-woven gauntlet. Running his hand down to the hilt, Aciatus deactivated the blade and placed it in his robes slowly walking toward the Jedi. Alluria gave a cry and threw a wave of telekinetic energy at him. The wave hit Aciatus, but washed over him, just as a river flows over a rock. Undaunted, Aciatus lifted his hand. His palm flashed, and lightning crackled along his fingers, springing out from each fingertip. Like extensions of his hand, the forks of lightning hit Alluria, pushing her into the air and up into the wall. Aciatus threw his hand back to the ground, and Alluria slammed into the floor with a sickening thud, completely unconcious. Aciatus raised his hand again, unleashing another blast of lightning at the Jedi.

            “Master!” Kalen leapt to deflect the blast, catching the electricity in his lightsaber and throwing it back at Aciatus. The Sith caught the lightning back in his palm, holding the hand in front of his face. He examined the blue energy as the lightning swirled around his fist.

            “Do not worry, my boy. I want your Master alive long enough to watch you die.” His other hand brought his lightsaber to guard, deactivating the second blade. “Which means you need to entertain me until she wakes.”

            Kalen brought his own blade up, placing himself between Aciatus and Alluria. “You expect me to give into my anger, Sith. I am a stronger Jedi than that. I will not turn to the dark side for strength. The Force flows through me. There is no emotion, there is peace.” Kalen angled his lightsaber to Aciatus, the blue glow illuminating the space between them.

            Aciatus angled his own blade. “Come at me then, boy. Show me just how powerful of a Jedi you are.”

            Kalen leapt at him, his blade held high above his head for an overhead strike. He swung downward, aiming for Aciatus’ head, but the Sith was no longer there. He turned to see a blade the color of hell come down on him. Kalen lifted his blade just in time to avoid having a hole in his chest. He pressed against Aciatus’ blade with his own, letting the Force give him balance.

            Aciatus, holding his lightsaber with his right hand, suddenly came up with his left, seizing Kalen’s sword arm with impossible strength. Bending Kalen’s arm back, Aciatus leaned into the Jedi’s face, whispering, “I am hungry...”

            Kalen shuddered a moment, trying to break free. Fear was etched into his face. Aciatus growled at him. “You have no right to defy my hunger!” Dark power bore down with his grip, and with a deft twist, Aciatus snapped Kalen’s right arm at the elbow.

            Kalen screamed, but with no more tension in his arm he was able to follow the break through, turning where it would have been impossible to a moment ago. His mangled arm twisted, but Kalen fought through the pain. He dropped his blade, sending it to his other hand. Continuing his turn behind Aciatus, Kalen swung at his head, but Aciatus sent a wave through the Force that rocketed Kalen away.

            Aciatus turned, and saw that Alluria was beginning to wake. She was conscious, but she had no energy to attack him yet. That would do.

            Aciatus pointed his blade at Kalen like an accusing finger. “You’re moves are too telegraphed, boy. You have anger, and it gives you power, but it makes your attacks sloppy. You are filled with fear, and it makes you weak.” He activated the second blade in his weapon. “Aren’t you a little old to be afraid of the dark?”

            Kalen snarled and charged at Aciatus. He struck left, feinted right, and spun back around to strike left again. Aciatus blocked each strike, his weapon a tornado of crimson flame, the bright red glow reflecting in his mask’s lidless eyes.

            Kalen flipped backwards, rebounding off of the wall to somersault in the air towards Aciatus. His blade met the Sith’s second blade, but Aciatus deactivated the blade the moment after they clashed. The change in momentum threw Kalen off balance; he had expected to reflect off of the blade, not fall through it. As he fell past Aciatus, the Sith activated his second blade again, sweeping the weapon into a circle in front of him. The crimson blade bit into Kalen’s leg, then his other leg. Kalen felt a burn in his legs, then nothing. He moved to catch himself, in order to resume his attack, but instead of his feet meeting the floor, he felt stumps where his knees should be.

            He turned his head. His legs were a few feet behind him, cut from just above the knee.

            Aciatus’ blade flashed twice, and Kalen’s mangled arm fell, followed by his intact arm, just below the shoulder. Limbless, Kalen struggled to move, but found himself staying upright, unmoving, and powerless before the shadow above him. Aciatus deactivated his second blade and pointed the lightsaber at Kalen’s face.

            Kalen spat at the Sith’s feet. Aciatus laughed. “Such restraint, such serenity. You are powerless, and weak. You are certainly a poor excuse for a Jedi. It is insulting that you thought yourself a match for me.” He looked over at Alluria. She was watching, while struggling to stand. Aciatus smiled again. Raising his hand, he lifted what was left of Kalen’s body into the air, hovering a foot from Aciatus’s face.

            Aciatus whispered, “Now I will kill you, and break your Master’s will. Once her restraint is broken, I will destroy her. The Republic will lose two of its most pitiful excuses for warriors today. Your precious Order will cheer when they discover your death.” He brought Kalen in close, then swept his blade across Kalen’s neck. The apprentice’s head rolled free from the body’s shoulders, bouncing along the floor. Aciatus threw the corpse away casually, as if swatting away an insect. Lifting the head back into the air, the Sith threw it towards Alluria.

            “Kalen! No!” Alluria extended her hand, reaching out to her apprentice’s severed head. Tears leaked from her eyes, streaking across her face and falling past her cheeks. She slowly stood, gasping for air as she wept for her apprentice. Looking at Aciatus, her eyes were raw, and full of flame. “You monster...”

            Aciatus turned to her. “You don’t know the half of it, my dear.” He reached into his robe and pulled out her lightsaber. He activated it, revealing a blade the color of life. He held the hilt before him. “If I give you your toy back, do you promise to play nice?” he said in a mocking tone.

            The hilt flew from his hands, and Alluria leapt through the air, catching the blade and slamming down into the ground. A shout from the Force pushed at Aciatus, but he stood his ground and met her following attack. Alluria continued to hammer away at him, trying to break his defenses with her emerald blade. Aciatus stood, unmoving. He would not deny his hunger. Alluria pressed her attack, each step a strike as she continued her assault on Aciatus. There was no longer any Jedi restraint in the fight; Alluria Ferral was cutting loose, out for Aciatus’ blood.

Alluria stabbed forward with her blade, and Aciatus hooked his parry around her strike to trap her close to him, locking their blades together. Face to face, Aciatus stared down at Alluria. Beads of sweat had formed on her brow, and her eyes revealed only hatred. Aciatus craned his neck forward, his expressionless mask inches from Alluria’s face. “You’re attacks are too slow, too predictable,” he whispered to the Jedi. “You’ll have to do better if you want any hope of destroying me, my dear Jedi.” Alluria snarled a curse and broke away from the lock. Aciatus realized how simple the fight had become. Alluria had given into her rage, but her Jedi training still influenced her swordplay. She still allowed the Force to flow through her, moving her blade through each exchange. Her Jedi techniques stood no chance against his mastery of the dark side.

She allowed the Force to direct her, but Aciatus had seized upon the Force with his unbreakable will. The Force obeyed him, and he directed it to alter Alluria’s moves. He directed her strikes to his parries, her emerald storm to his crimson flame. She was already dead; Aciatus simply had to finish the details.

“You cannot win, Jedi,” he said. His voice was calm, and had a tone of finality. “Your feeble skills are no match for my power.”

Alluria’s face was contorted with rage. “I will destroy you, Sith!” Her voice wavered as her body shook with sobs.

            Aciatus laughed. “You use the light as your weapon, but you have forsaken your Jedi restraint. You have never seen the full extent of the darkness.” He lowered his blade. “Allow me to show you, as a parting  gift.”

Bringing his hand up, he sent a barrage of lightning at Alluria. The Jedi caught the electricity in her blade, but Aciatus amped up the energy. Deactivating his blade, he brought both hands up, sending every bit of his hatred at Alluria. Her blade bent back under the pressure. His electric malice wrapped around her blade, attracted to it like a lightning rod. Alluria struggled to keep her blade upright, gritting her teeth and shouting in anger.

Aciatus sighed. It was time to end the charade. Between his will and her will, there simply was no contest. He tapped further into his power, and his lightning became stronger, reaching past Alluria’s blade. The electricity overloaded her lightsaber, and the air around Alluria exploded in a wave of emerald and electric blue. Aciatus shielded his face from the blast, looking up once the energy had subsided.

            Alluria was severely weakened by the blast, knocked onto her back and struggling to maintain consciousness. She saw Aciatus approach her and attempted to slow his progress with a wave of the Force, but Aciatus laughed as he felt the energy brush against him. He raised his hand and sent his own wave at Alluria, and the Jedi was pushed back into the wall with crushing force. Aciatus heard the satisfying crunch of her bones breaking as she impacted.

            He slowed as he approached the broken body of the Jedi. “Now, my dear, I have one last gift for you.” He raised his hand, lifting her body into the air, close to his. Suspending her directly in front of him, Aciatus leaned in and smelled the air. “The air is littered with your power, Jedi. I want it for my own.”

            Alluria was barely able to raise her head. “You don’t have... the power... to steal the Force from others...”

            “Correction, my darling, I very much can steal your power.” Aciatus lifted his head to think a moment. “However, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you to get it. I do apologize, Jedi, I enjoyed where our relationship was going.”

            Alluria snapped awake at the announcement of her death, but she could not move in Aciatus’ Force grip. “You Sith disease...”

            “Now, that is hardly a way to treat your victor.” Aciatus lifted Alluria higher into the air, and brought his second hand up. “It’s time to kill you now. I’m quite sorry it had to end like this.” He paused, then traced her cheek with his other finger. “Such a beautiful creature should not have been wasted on Jedi principles.”

            Lightning spread from his fingers again, tracing the edges of Alluria’s body. She flinched in pain as the energies felt around her frame. Aciatus closed his eyes, feeling Alluria through the Force, drawing out her power. He was searching for her body’s breaking point, where he could destroy her and take her power for his own. He felt along her back, through her head, down her arms. As the lightning passed along her torso, Aciatus felt the nexus of power within her. He smiled, and his gauntlets made a fist.

            Alluria shrieked as a blue glow began to fill her eyes. Jagged lines spread along her body, branching out  from her chest. Her body shook violently, and the blue glow shone from her entire body. Her skin started to break apart, peeling away from her fingers and farther up her arms, revealing bare muscle tissue and bone underneath. With her entire body breaking apart, Alluria looked down into Aciatus’ mask. He met her stare, continuing to draw her power from her. Alluria’s entire body was void of skin, and her muscles were beginning to unravel.

            With a mouth that no longer had any lips and a tongue that wasn’t whole, Alluria spat out at Aciatus. “I hate you!” she screamed, as her skeleton began to peek out from behind her muscle tissue.

            Aciatus sneered. “Now, it isn’t the Jedi way to hate, is it?”

            He dropped his fist, and turned around, slowly walking away from Alluria. She slowly began to lower to the ground, the blue glow still shining from her body. Aciatus whipped around, shooting lightning from his hands. His electric hatred struck her in her fracture point, and her body exploded, broken shards of her being raining down in the room. Where Alluria Ferral once stood, there remained only a blue transparent sphere of energy. Aciatus extended his hand, and the sphere floated to him, resting right above his palm. Placing both of his hands around the sphere, Aciatus pushed the sphere towards himself. The energy broke apart, wafting into his very being. As the energy filled Aciatus, he felt the well of the Dark Side grow more powerful.

            As he devoured the energy, Aciatus felt his hunger dissipate. Finally being able to focus on his original mission, Aciatus turned towards the Infinity Gate. Upon closer examination, he saw that the hexagon bracket was cracked at the corners, which is what was leaking the blue glow. The power that the ancient device once held was now only fractional at best. Aciatus frowned at the device. The Infinity Gate could be recreated, but he and Shrike could not afford to leave the original Infinity Gate intact for the Republic to eventually find.

            Aciatus reached into his robes and withdrew a holocron. Lifting the holocron into the air, Aciatus scanned the fractured Infinity Gate. After the holocron captured the Infinity Gate’s structure, Aciatus returned the holocron to his robes. Making a fist with his hand, he crushed the hexagon bracket with the Force. Shrike joined him as he crushed the Infinity Gate, watching him work.

            “We can’t afford to let this device remain here,” he said as he finished grinding the Infinity Gate to dust. “I recorded the design of the Gate on a holocron, so we’ll be able to submit the designs to Imperial Intelligence.” He turned to the other Sith. “We’ve done what we could. Let’s return to the Voidtalon and get off this forsaken planet.”

            Shrike nodded. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” The other master’s apprentice was with Shrike. Aciatus didn’t even pay the boy a glance, but he wondered how Shrike thought the apprentice would fare as a Sith. Aciatus certainly had no faith in the boy. He did not voice his concerns, merely gestured towards the doors to the chamber.

            Wordlessly, Shrike, Aciatus and Renn stepped from the center of the chamber towards the world beyond.

                        Riveya Kairis breathed a light sigh as she leaned back against the support strut of the Voidtalon, idly twirling the hilt of her lightsaber around her hand with the Force. Her cool amber colored eyes glanced out at the humid landscape of Dathomir, awaiting the return of her Master.

                        “You will not get away with this, Sith witch!” The voice drew Riveya’s attention over to the Voidtalon’s entrance ramp. There, the ship’s contingent of Imperial troopers held twelve Republic soldiers prisoner, each stripped of gear and on their knees, arms restrained behind them. Riveya pushed herself casually off of the support strut and walked toward them.

                        “Who said that?” she asked softly, looking from face to face.

                        “I did,” a man said, looking up at Riveya with fierce defiance in his eyes. The Sith woman leaned closer to him, putting her face to within a few inches of his.

                        “Brave of you to stand up to your captor,” she said with a mocking smile. Anger flared in the man’s face and he opened his mouth to respond to her.

                        His words were lost as red plasma slid into his throat.

                        Several of the other prisoners let out gasps and turned their heads away as their compatriot slumped to the ground.

                        “Brave, but foolish,” Riveya finished, deactivating her lightsaber.

                        “Monster!” another prisoner shouted. Riveya glanced towards the speaker and laughed.

                        “I’d be more careful with my words if I were you. You are completely in my power. If you desire to live, I suggest you learn some manners.”

            “Just kill us then, and be done with it, dog. All of us swore an oath to the Republic-- and we’d rather die than--” The prisoner stopped short in her sentence as her throat constricted. Riveya’s hand was held out almost casually towards her, and her face was still void of expression.

            “If that is how you feel... so be it.” Her hand tightened into a fist, and the sound of crunching bones broke the relative quiet of the clearing. The woman’s lifeless body fell forward into the mud. Riveya’s lightsaber spun up with a hum and flash of red. “Now for the rest of you.”

            She was about to swing her blade down when another of the Republic soldiers cried out.

            “Wait!”

            Riveya paused, looking at the speaker curiously.

            “I... I don’t want to die.”

            The Sith woman let a cool smile spread across her face. “No, I’d imagine not. Anyone else who would like to live, I suggest you speak up now...”

            Slowly, some almost grudgingly, the other prisoners all voiced their will to live.

            “Good. Now... choose which six of you will live, and which will die.”

            The Republic soldiers stared at her with horror.

            “The Voidtalon is a small ship. We have room for six of you, no more. So choose... and I do suggest you choose quickly. If my Master returns and you are still out here, I’ll simply have to kill you all.”

            Riveya turned her back to them even as they started shouting at her, walking away towards the edge of the clearing and ignoring them entirely. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fumes, the smog and mist of the swamp. The Dark Side was everywhere. It was in the trees, the waters, the very air. It was... invigorating.

            And yet... wrong.

            Riveya opened her eyes, her smile fading. Vague guilt prodded at her mind, but refused to reveal its origin. She shook her head to clear her head.

            A familiar presence revealed itself to the east, and Riveya waited where she was as it approached. Only a few moments passed before Darths Shrike and Actiatus stepped into view, along with...

            “Jedi!” Riveya hissed, her lightsaber flashing to life in her raised grip.

            “Calm yourself, apprentice. He is no Jedi anymore,” Shrike replied. Riveya stared for a moment, keeping her lightsaber ready. Renn met her gaze for a moment or two, and she saw the emptiness within. He looked away, but she watched him closely as he passed. She fell into step behind Shrike as the trio made their way towards the Voidtalon.

            The Imperial troopers were shepherding the last of the six prisoners onboard, while their four other comrades remained on their knees in the mud. The feelings of betrayal and guilt were palpable on the air.

            Without a word, Shrike, Renn and Riveya stepped onboard the Voidtalon, ignoring the four soldiers beside the ramp. Aciatus gave them a brief glance, but decided that the insects weren’t even worth destroying. He gestured for the Imperials to board the ship, and they did so without question.

            “Execute us, then!” one of the prisoners shouted, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Aciatus looked at him, smiling faintly.

            “Why would I deny the wildlife their snack?” Turning away, he stepped onto the ship. Their protesting shouts were lost as boarding ramp sealed behind him, but he savored the terror within them.

            Mere moments later, the Voidtalon rose towards the sky, and left Dathomir behind.