Xanatos DeCiron stood over the fallen body of his father, eyeing the big man who stood irresolutely before him with deep hatred.

"I'll never forgive you for this Qui-Gon", he whispered, the fury in his voice through the deceptively soft tone. "Someday, I will make you pay. I'll never forget what you stole from me!" He was screaming now, his voice rising with each syllable he uttered to a deafening crescendo that echoed loudly off the vaulted walls. He picked up his father's ring from the place it had fallen in the fire.

"And this is how I'll always remember the debt you owe me, which can only be repaid in blood", he said, his voice soft once more. Without warning he pressed the hot metal of the ring to his cheek.

The sizzling sound was audible, and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. "No Xanatos!", cried Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn in despair, "It doesn't have to be this way!" The midnight blue eyes fixed on their adversary, glinting dangerously.

"No it didn't", he said quietly, "But you made it this way Qui-Gon, and now you must suffer the consequences!" He drew his blade and faced his enemy. "And now, my old Master, we shall see how proficient a teacher you truly are!"

He leaped so quickly that Qui-Gon barely had the time to activate his own green blade before Xanatos' azure one was upon it. The fallen apprentice circled his former mentor, like an animal searching for a weakness in its prey's defenses.

He charged again, this time fainting to the left before whirling right with a high jab slanted upwards toward the chest area. The move was designed to be a killing blow Qui-Gon realized in a moment of clarity. His apprentice had fallen and truly meant to end his life.

In his rage, Xanatos had over-extended the reach of his blade, leaving himself exposed. With one deft movement, the Jedi Master disarmed the enraged younger man, and put his blade to his throat, the conflict in his eyes evident.

In the space of a moment, his resolve wavered, and the fallen Jedi saw his chance. Using his elbow, he threw a downward blow, meant to dislocate Jinn's shoulder. The Master realized his pupil's intentions however, and was already twisting away from it, but he was too slow.

The jab hit its mark slightly off-center, and while not causing the damage it was meant to, effectively disabled its opponent. Xanatos wasted little time. He opened the window and turned to his former master, his eyes burning with a fire that threatened to consume him. Over the din of the raging storm, Xanatos locked eyes with his opponent.

"We came to this planet as friends Qui-Gon Jinn and shall leave it as enemies, but I promise you this, on the blood of my father: the next time we meet, you will be made to suffer the way I have suffered, and then you will die.

Without a backward glance, he grabbed his saber and leaped out the window into the night...

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Xanatos rose from his meditation wordlessly, his mind on the memory of his "betrayal" of his old master. He often used it to remind himself of his purpose, and to reaffirm his resolve to exact revenge upon Qui-Gon Jinn.

It had been 5 months since his rebellion and he was still unsure as how to proceed. He'd stolen a ship out of one his father's shipyards, drained his bank account and, upon the earliest opportunity that had presented itself, left the planet.

He'd thought at first if the Jedi would hunt him, but the fear had been proven to be needless- at least, so far. They don't think me a large enough threat to actively search for me, he thought bitterly. No matter. They will soon grow to regret that decision and, at present, it makes my job that much easier.

How exactly to do his job and what exactly it was however, he had yet to work out. Even so, he'd been far from idle and was even then plotting his next move.

The first thing to do would be to acquire some sort of front with which to amass wealth to finance his plans for the Jedi. He had no real idea how to go about this, however.

What he did know was how he could establish his presence in the underworld. The DeCiron name still carried a lot of weight and his father had had contacts everywhere. It was a small matter to call in a few favors and set himself up with a new identity with which he could gain access into the underbelly of the galaxy.

After waiting a few days for everything to come through, the arrangements were finally complete. He was to be known as Te'gazi Zedrin, a pirate and smuggler who'd gained his reputation running Kessel spice to various clients right under the nose of the Republic.

This impressive résumé drew the attention of the De'jiri Web, an elite crime organization that was rumored to have extremely important backers in the Senate reaching up into the very highest echelons of the political hierarchy, perhaps even to the Chancellor's personal assistant.

He was to meet his contact in three days on Sluis Van, a planet well-known for its shipyards but even better known for the type of clientele the former reputation attracted. Once there he was to travel to the northern continent and wait in a tavern in the seedier part of the Eastern Sector known as The Green Dragon. He was to take a table near the door and wait for a person who would perform three distinct signs.

First, they were to ask if there was a table open by the window. Second, they would ask for Corellian Brandy on the rocks with a shot of Alderaani firewhisky, and third they were to drop a blue scarf. After this was done, Xanatos was to walk up to the contact and casually comment on how the intricate patterns in the scarf resembled a web. It was by this exchange that he would know his contact, and vice versa.

He thought the whole song and dance incredibly needless and boring: there were far more practical ways to accomplish the same goal (like simply describing what he'd be wearing and what he looked like for instance), but he thought it best not to argue.

It was an extremely dangerous operation and he was taking and absurd risk. If just one element of the plan fell through, one person got cold feet and betrayed him, the whole of it would come crashing down around his ears. Xanatos smiled. That is well, he thought, for I am an extremely dangerous person.

All that was left was to alter his appearance a bit. While Jedi were not typically known individually, so much as a whole, the fallen Jedi knew that his prominent role in the Teleosian civil war potentially made him easily recognizable.

He died his skin a ruddy tan color and put contacts in his eyes that made them a clear crystal green. His hair, he decided, would be left as it was. He wasn't quite so desperate as to shave or tamper with his silken locks in any manner for that matter yet.

................................................................................................................

Three days later, a Dark man, very different looking from the one who had been lounging around on his ship in nothing but his skin and a smile for 5 months strode purposefully into the Green Dragon and took a seat at a table near the door.

It was a dingy, rundown place, in which the lighting flickered ominously and the patrons looked as if they should be on the Galaxy's Most Wanted list.

Dressed in form fitting, black leather pants, a matching leather vest and studded leather arms bracers, he fit right into the crowd. For show, he had one blaster strapped to his left hip, though he was an exceedingly good marksman, but his true weapon was hidden in a secret compartment in the inside of his right boot, which was shielded in case he was scanned for weapons.

Ordering a glass of Telosian ale, the Dark Jedi carefully watched the many different beings that entered the Dragon.

After a few minutes, a tall, muscularly built man ordered the prescribed drink, and took a seat next to Xanatos. Odd, thought Xanatos amusedly, he doesn't seem like the type to carry, let alone wear a scarf. But, after finishing his drink, the man paid his bill and left.

Now slightly confused, Xanatos turned his head and happened to see, out of the corner of his eye, a young woman with the same drink, sitting near the window seemingly accidentally drop an intricately woven scarf. More than a little surprised, the usually blue-eyed ex-apprentice took a moment to study the woman.

She was on the short side of things, no taller than 5'2", with a rich caramel complexion, and a sleight, but muscular build. She wore loose, plain clothing under a black cloak, and had at least three weapons that he could see. Even though she looked young, 25 at the oldest, her hair and eyes were a striking shade of silver.

Rising smoothly, Xanatos glided over to her, picked up her scarf and said silkily, "This is an interesting piece of cloth you have here, Madame. The pattern resembles a spider's web, if one looks close enough."

The woman's eyebrow raised the smallest fraction of an inch as if he was not quite what she expected, then said slowly, "That is very true Mister..."

"Zedrin", he finished.

"Te'gazi Zedrin." She nodded slowly as if taking in the measure of him. "But", she continued, "One only sees what they want to see sometimes, wouldn't you agree?"

Xanatos sat in the chair across from her and eyed her steadily. He'd come too far and blackmailed too many people to falter now. "I think that people can only see as much as they are trained to see", he said softly.

"Oh?", she said with interest. "Some people lack the ability to see the big picture. They can only see a part of what I going on because they have no mind for always keeping an eye on the Grand Scheme of things, instead of what's in plain sight, right in front of you ", he finished.

"And what do you see Mr. Zedrin?" , she asked sternly, her eyes betraying her feelings though as they glinted amusedly.

"I see what I need to see." She laughed softly at this, though the expression did not quite meet her eyes.

"You'll do well enough Zedrin", she said appreciatively. "I am Eravasi Maldera, your contact."