Dusk
Small lizards scampered about. A rancor mating call could be heard in the distance. The eerie calm of the forest was no comfort to Koran. Every fiber of his being burned with the pain of an old scar, old wounds reopened, yet he lusted something: revenge. Yet he slunk onwards into the thick of the woods, where he knew the ghosts of his past lurked. This mission, Koran reminded himself, was of the utmost importance. Success could put all of his ambitions in motion. Failure could cost him his life.
Sustained by this idea, Koran successfully pervaded the dense mass of trees surrounding the previously Separatist outpost. It wasn't really much to behold: a small, bulky, emaciated steel structure, with a large plasteel door in the front but without windows. To any natives, it looked like a Republic frigate wreck. Koran approached cautiously. Crunch! In a split second, the ground dropped out from under his feet. Attuning to the force, he blasted himself out of the now fifteen-foot deep hole he'd nearly fallen into. Koran swore stuck a landing, and proceeded to inspect the would-be trap. "Nightsisters," he whispered to himself. Koran knew full well that only a Nightsister would set such a trap. It was but a large hole covered by a massive collection of rotting, caked leaves, just what covered up the rest of the area, which was meant to do only that: trap. The victim would die of dehydration before they could ever escape, unless the unseen predator had other plans.
Now positive that the ghosts of his past were right behind him, breathing down his neck, Koran made a near frantic dash for the plasteel door. Without another thought, he ignited his lightsaber and laid waste to it. Three scout troopers stood in the now exposed foyer of the base. With a flash of plasma, they fell to the floor. With a loud clank, the emergency hatch slid shut behind Koran. The ghosts were still outside. His fear had left him.
In a matter of minutes Koran located a computer access terminal, slew the resident guard, and had hacked himself schematics of the entire fortress. He was once again thinking clearly; it was time to strike. The layout of the outpost was not very complicated: there was a foyer, which lead into a chamber, a main chamber (divided into many rooms), and three other auxiliary chambers surrounding it. Also, an intricate series of ventilation ducts wove their way throughout. Koran considered this mode of infiltration for not even a second. A Jedi Knight or clone commando would easily use this convenient way around security, but It was nowhere close to fit for a Sith.
He exited the computer access terminal booth and proceeded down through the foyer and into the first chamber. The door slid open with a wave of his hand. It was but a small room, with nothing but yet another large, thick, plasteel door. And there were guards; six to be exact, each armed with standard issue blaster rifles. "Perfect," thought Koran. A second passed. The clones then processed that an intruder stood before them, and they raised their weapons. But it was too late. He strode away, a cocky grin on his face, enjoying the deaths of his enemies.
Recently, Koran had stumbled onto an astounding discovery. He could, in fact, create fire. Well, simulate fire is a better phrase. By "rubbing" mediclorians in the air together at ridiculously high speeds and causing enough friction, heat could be created. Enough was created to ignite nearby objects. After strenuously practicing this technique day in and day out behind his ever-vigilant master's back, Koran could now use his new power in the field.
The clones passed out simultaneously. Ot`i, as he called it, allowed Koran to create fire wherever there were mediclorians to burn. The insulating armor of clone troopers created a wonderful container in which to ignite flames. Koran deactivated their guns and laid waste to the second plasteel door that day.
Koran strutted through the rest of the outpost killing the remaining clones, or he called them droids with brains, in a very similar fashion. Once again pride was getting the best of him. So brilliant was his control of fire, that none stood in his way; none, perhaps, but the lightsaber-wielding Jedi from beforeā¦. Koran's thoughts turned to the mysterious, force-sensitive Mandalorian. Standing amidst the silent emptiness of the base, Koran remembered his own plan, and what he had really come here to accomplish. Immediately, he reached out with force tendrils of his consciousness and searched for the unusual Jedi Commando. He touched two minds, the first and closest of which was in an oddly subdued state. This one he disregarded as it posed no conceivable threat. The second reached out back at him. It was rather unfortunate for Jedi Commando, one with so little training rarely knows how to control their power, but it was welcome to Koran. "That's it!" Koran whispered to himself. Quickly and carefully, he retracted his mentality and set out in the direction of his prey.
A door opened. There he stood; a clone commando, in his katarn armor, except no lightsaber. Jedi Commando wasn't one to carry one around and flaunt it, he was trained to little to care. Koran grinned now it would be easy. In that distinct, Concord Dawn accent, he stated, "Nice to meet you again."
"I wish the same could be said for you," Koran retorted. "You possess such wonderful talent, so much has been given to you, and you waste it on your 'brothers'".
"You see, we Mando'ade, we have a saying. Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din. So I'll say it again: I will never betray them for you!"
"Pitiful. It's a waste." The clone laughed, "I pity you. You subject yourself to torture and happily slay people you've never met for the hell of it."
"I call that power, perhaps I can educate you." The commando shook his head, "Sorry buddy, ain't gonna happen."
He raised his blaster and fired just as both sides of Koran's saber ignited swatting them away. Koran Force leaped towards the commando who ducked away and grabbed a vibroblade. Now they both lunged for each other, crying out, and crossed blades.
Meanwhile, the owner of the lonely, subdued consciousness stirred in her detention cell.
Notes:
Plasteel is a very thick, strong material that is impervious to blaster fire, but not lightsabers.
Katarn armor- clone commando armor, no relation to the Jedi master from the new jedi order (who is beast btw) or the animal
Aliit ori`shya tal`din = "Family is more than a bloodlin" in Mando`a
