Knights of the Old Republic II: Sith Lords - Volume 3: The Enclaves.

Knights of the old Republic and Starwars are owned by George Lucas (I think he owns them both).

Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belong to Joss Whedon.

I own nothing here. As said by many wise men..and women…please don't sue me.

The timeline for Buffy takes place about three years after the end of Buffy. No exact date has been decided. KOTOR 2 timeline starts right from the beginning of the game. I apologize now for my lack of grammar etc, etc. I've never posted anything I've written until now. This bug has been floating in my skull since I first read Slayers of the old republic by Michael Weyer. It definitely fed my imagination. Thanks Michael. Anyways on with the show. Please comment. It won't get better in quality or quantity without constructive criticism.

Dantooine - Khoonda…

Willow returned to consciousness slowly, her head already pounding and thoughts floating around at a sluggish pace. Somehow she knew she'd over done it, her magic that was.

Opening her eyes, she choked slightly upon seeing the heavy structural damage done to the hallway just outside of Administrator Adare's office. The two doors leading to the front entrance little more than slag metal, warped and blackened in their frames.

Bodies. It was the bodies that drew her eyes however. A few Militia Volunteers, the ones that had been laid up in the medical ward. And nearly three times as many Mercenaries, easily recognizable with their heavier armour and far newer looking rifles.

And then she spotted an unfamiliar face, a lone pale dead eye stared back at her accusingly. Azkul, leader of the Mercenaries, or what was left of him. As the lower half of his body had been sheered off right above the hips.

Still on her knee's, it didn't take much to keel over and empty the contents of her stomach on the cracked and debris covered floor. At least the smell of bile masked the smell of burnt flesh and blood.

Sitting up, she pushed her long red hair back with both hands, ignoring the dirt and ash she likely streaked through it. Finding her Earpiece in the process.

Her memories were already starting to sort themselves out, bringing her up to speed on what had happened. The return to Khoonda and the brief battle planning done to protect the small community. Little more than a foot note compared to her memories of Master Vrook constantly staring at her like some kind of monster.

Not that she took part in the planning. As it had taken more than a little while to get her emotions back under control. She was always a little more emotional than most people, she accepted this. It was just part of who she was.

She knew they had prepared for the inevitable attack, repairing the defence turrets. Getting the medical droid back up and running, as well as the internal defence droids.

But what she couldn't figure out was what had gone wrong, as something obviously had. Otherwise she wouldn't be kneeling just outside the Administrator's Office, surrounded by the dead.

Looking at the door, she could see it was still intact. Apparently welded completely shut from an intense amount of heat. Or maybe it had just been damaged, either way it was still closed, which meant Giles and the Administrator should be fine.

Pushing herself to her feet, she headed for the lobby. Grasping a discarded blaster rifle from a fallen Merc. Just in case.

Stumbling through the ruined hallway, she entered the lobby itself, and almost collapsed again at the sight before her.

Bodies, everywhere she looked were bodies. Charred armour from blaster hits had killed most of them, but enough of them, right around the front entrance had obviously been shredded by someone with a light saber. Creating a corridor of bodies and parts just outside. The smell alone was almost more than she could bare.

Coughing drew her eyes towards the receptionists table, and the body of a Militia Volunteer began to stand, only to fall over a moment later. Revealing someone beneath, bloodied and grime covered as they looked around.

It took several heart beats for Willow to recognize the face, and suddenly realized she was holding the rifle aimed right at them, nearly trembling.

Graham Miller finally turned enough to see her, and she gasped upon seeing the damage to the right side of his face. Hair and skin were burnt away, leaving ugly blackened skin and oozing blood.

"Willow" he coughed, and somehow pushed himself up a bit more, only to crash to his side.

She dropped the rifle and almost launched forward, almost panicking at what she could do to help. His injuries looked pretty bad. Burns on his right leg and several blaster scores on his chest made that quite obvious.

"Oh god, Graham!" she gasped "Stay still, let me check you over!".

He waved her off, not quite able to speak, but he forced the words out anyways "No…Cari…check on Cari!" he blurted, and desperately shoved her back.

She stopped, almost afraid at what he was referring too, even as the memory started to clear. Caridad had been paired with Graham. And set to watch over the front entrance. Along with twenty defending militia.

"Cari?" she asked, her voice laced with fear.

He nodded, and finally rolled onto his back, his head propped against a section of the collapsed desk.

"Merc's…broke through. We managed to hold them here….Some pushed passed us, and more tried to join them" he explained through groggy lips "Cari…she knew we couldn't let anymore slip through…she charged the front…to plug the hole".

Willow looked back to the front entrance, seeing exactly what he was describing in her mind. She could almost see how the Merc's had stormed in, pushing Graham and Caridad back, and the few militia volunteers. Forcing them to use the desk as the only form of cover.

She could imagine how merc's, lead by Azkul had slipped passed them, taking the two side doors. Ignoring the few defenders in order to go right for the heart of the building. And she could see, so clearly in her head that Caridad had charged the main entrance, intending to keep anymore Merc's from slipping through.

It explained all the bodies.

"Musta been hit by a stray grenade" Graham continued, and reached a shaky hand into one of his pouches. Pulling a medical stim.

Willow quickly took it from him "Your in no shape Graham, let me" she whispered. And went about applying the Kolto Injection. Pain relief and tissue regeneration all in one nifty little package.

His breathing eased considerably within seconds. And a lopsided grin slipped into place "That's better" he almost chuckled.

She smiled back "Stay put, I'll check on Cari" she said, gently touching his left shoulder.

He only nodded, even as she pushed herself back to her feet and grabbed her fallen rifle. Unsure of what she would find beyond that single door.

What she saw however was nothing short of brain numbing.

No one moved, not one. Of the countless bodies that littered the field. Most obviously torn to pieces by the defence turrets that were now little more than scrap metal. And another large number having fallen to the plasma mines set up before the lone bridge and creek bed.

But the most shocking sight was the multitude of dead mercenaries that almost encircled the front of the building. As though Cari had not only tried to hold them back at the entrance, but actually waded out into a full platoon of them.

Then she spotted her, sitting with her back against the only sandbag emplacement left intact. Barely even noticeable amongst the dead, and debris littered ground.

"Cari?" she called out, her rifle at the ready just in case there were more merc's around.

The girl didn't respond, forcing Willow to surge forward. She could be unconscious.

What she found however shattered that instantly.

Her eyes were wide open, staring out across the hillside that circled the small community. Blood caked hair was matted down to her face. Her lightsaber sitting in her lap, as though she'd simply stopped to take a breather, and was staring up at the sky in contemplation.

Only those eyes were now lifeless. She had given her life for a community of farmers she didn't even know.

The wounds that covered her armoured body were clear enough. She'd taken more than enough to kill most men, and maybe even a few demons. But it was obvious she hadn't fallen. She had secured the area, and only then did she stop.

To Willow it was as though the young Slayer had decided to simply sit down and rest for a bit.

Only she wouldn't be getting up, not this time.

She didn't even realize she had collapsed to her knee's, stunned at seeing someone so young cut down in some pointless battle.

Someone she knew, and cared for.

The urge to cry out was almost overwhelming, to wail at the injustice. Find someone to pay for this. But she had nothing left to give. Seeing so much death had taken it's toll. She was at least aware of that.

No, what really kept her from losing what little control she had left, was the peaceful look in the eyes of Caridad. Lifeless, but not dead. The contrast was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

And that was how she was sitting, when the others found her only a few minutes later. Staring at the peaceful gaze of someone they would never hear laughing again. Never join in on amusing pranks with Shannon, or practise with Graham and Riley at the Flight simulator.

Never do her odd little dance when she found something amusing.

It was Shannon who approached her first, kneeling beside her, appearing almost as shocked at seeing her best friend. But unlike Willow, she knew all too well what a Slayers life was like.

Seeing that pained resignation in the brunettes eyes drew Willow from her own thoughts, now wasn't the time to mourn. Others needed her now. She needed to be the strong one. At least for Shannon, if for no one else.

"Shan?" she called out, reaching out to pull the slayer a little closer.

Shannon didn't fight, and allowed Willow to pull her in just a little bit. Her eyes already filling with tears, only she didn't actually cry out, not once.

"She always wanted to go out in style" the eighteen year old whispered.

Willow had nothing to say to that, even as the young woman rested her head down on her shoulder. And let out a long pain filled sigh.

The next few hours passed quickly, for Willow it felt like she was left in a fog. Simply watching as the survivors went about the immediate task of cleaning up. First finding the wounded, and then clearing and identifying the dead.

At least the ones that could be.

Shannon, she knew had taken charge of Caridad's body. And knowing the young woman hadn't left her alone even once.

Even as unfocused as she felt, Willow helped out where she could. Tending to the wounded mostly, as she didn't feel comfortable using her magic at the moment, she needed time to meditate first. Her emotions would only make the flow of the planets energy unpredictable.

Through the entire day, the battle came back to her in small snippets of memory. And the fallout afterwards, she never saw any member of their little group together.

Shayla spent most of her time talking with the Administrator and Master Vrook, periodically breaking away to help with something elsewhere.

Giles spent a lot of time with the clean up crews, along with volunteer's from the surrounding farms. Some people even came in from up to a hundred miles away to help.

Riley and Graham probably spent the most time together, as they'd both been wounded. Riley having taken a few nasty blaster shots while defending the rear of the compound. He'd be fine in a few days however.

Graham on the other hand would need a little more time, since he'd lost his right eye, and the scarring of his face, right arm and shoulder was as bad as it could possibly be. He'd require at least a week of regular medical care. Probably more, due to the muscle damage. Plus several weeks of physical-therapy as well.

It was close to midnight, or midnight for Dantooine at least, before she returned to the Ebon Hawk. And headed straight for the showers, after grabbing a simple robe and what limited personal hygiene products they managed to scrounge up.

She didn't take long, focusing on scrubbing all the blood and grime that she couldn't clear off earlier. Though her hair slowed down the process, as it was a rats-nest thanks to the sweat and blood that still clung to it.

Seeing the water vanish down the drain, a bright red at first which diluted to a soft pink within minutes always shocked her. Nearly nine years of fighting beside Buffy. Fighting the good fight, meant that she'd had plenty of blood that would need washing off.

She never got use to it. And that was a good thing, at least for her. She didn't want all the death and loss to stop affecting her. Three years ago she learnt exactly what happens when one gives up, or gives in.

She had no intention of giving into that overriding sense of loss again.

Quickly drying off, she wrapped the robe around herself and headed for the room she shared with Shayla and the girls.

Sorry, only one girl now.

Willow took a deep breath at that thought, and forced herself to remain calm, at least for the time being. They'd have time to mourn later, assuming they could stop the Sith.

The guys had moved into the other bunk, which left Visas to bunk in the cargo room. Not a bad arrangement really.

But right now, she was desperately missing Buffy, Xander and Dawn. Her family.

Reaching her room, she stopped upon seeing Shayla. Already clean and wearing a simple set of white robes. Meditating quietly in the center of the room.

Where she managed to find a shower baffled her for a moment, but she ignored it and headed for the bag she brought with her from home. Containing everything she brought with her, mostly the military fatigues the Council reluctantly adopted for field missions. But she did bring a few personal articles of clothing.

Which was what she pulled out, desperately wanting a connection to something a little familiar. She hugged the Scooby-Do Pyjama's tightly for a moment, and then slipped them on quietly, not wanting to disturb the thirty something blonde JedI Exile.

She turned and stared at the woman for nearly a minute, a battle of thoughts and desires fought briefly within her, but finally she succumbed and settled in across from the young woman. And started the breathing exercises that would bring her closer to her core self. Her center.

So much had happened in only an hour. Lives had been changed irrevocably. But she could also feel the threads of power. Stretching out beyond the confines of this one single planet. And she allowed herself a little bit of comfort. Knowing that they had made a difference today. Not just in the lives of just one world, but an entire Galaxy.

Korriban - Unknown Tomb…

Xander stared at the fallen bodies in a mixture of fear and hate. Self-loathing really. Knowing that he was the one to strike them down.

Two things happened next. The bodies vanished, as though they were never their. And a sudden realization slapped him across the metaphorical face.

Violet blade still ignited, he started to chuckle. Even as his two unlikely companions moved further into the room. Having witnessed the entire spectacle. For the three seconds it lasted.

"This isn't a prison" he spoke quietly, turning towards the two women standing by the door "Or a tomb, this is a test".

Mission Vao unconsciously moved a little ways from Bastila. But her eyes were entirely focused on him. The hate and fear almost constantly flashing in those yellowed eyes seemed dimmer at the moment.

"A test?" she whispered, and looked around warily "I hate tests…I always forget to study".

Bastila too stepped closer, eyeing the small Twi'lek with equal amounts of concern and caution.

"I believe you are right" she frowned "I recognize much of what we have seen…first you recognized Shayla Kracek, the Exile. And then the Mandalorians. Which I could only assume was her time within the jungles of Dxun".

"I also had a strange vision of what happened at Malachor Five" he added "That wasn't fun".

Bastila's eyes widened slightly "I imagine not".

"What kind of test is this?" Mission interrupted "I like killing professors".

Bastila smirked at that, why exactly Xander could only guess.

"It's not that kind of test Mission" she replied quietly, then turned back to Xander "The images, and situations we've seen. Are all about the past, specifically Shayla's past".

"Except this one" Xander cut in, waving his weapon out across the room "This wasn't a past event. My friends and I never fought like this…and Shayla, she never fell to the Dark Side".

Mission started giggling, which wasn't as creepy as it was before "You break it, you buy it!" she exclaimed.

Xander looked to Bastila for any kind of help, but she appeared just as confused as he felt. Mission herself finally sighed, seeing no understanding in their faces.

"Duh!. Consequences!" she exclaimed in a near screech "Not that I really care about such things. But think about it, this Shayla joined Malak and Revan. Lead battles on Dxun and Malachor, we know both battles had drastic consequences on the course of the war".

Bastila blinked in understanding "And this…this situation where you fought in the defence of Shayla. Against your own friends…".

"Choices" Xander finally spoke, and knew the word was right. Something within him just knew that this wasn't just about consequences, but the choices that created them.

"A test…a lesson. Choices and consequences" he sighed, feeling suddenly very tired "But why?".

Mission pointed at the door behind him "Maybe the professors answer sheet's in there?" she smiled, flashing those shiny chrome teeth.

"She's right Xander" Bastila spoke up "We need more clue's, and they might be in there".

He nodded and stalked towards the door, unsurprised to find it swish open on it's own. Only to stop upon seeing a single figure kneeling within.

Stylized robes covered the figure, who was facing away from them. Kneeling or praying maybe before a Pyramid like Tomb. Three more doors filled the walls. Possible routes out maybe.

But it was gasps of shock from his two companions that told him something definitely wasn't right.

"It can't be" Bastila whispered.

He glanced to them, and spotted the shock in Bastila's eyes. But it was the nearly brutal rage that was filling Missions eyes that had him suddenly worried.

The figure stood, drawing his attention. And turned to reveal a strange visage. Masked with lots of leather and buckles. Hell, whoever this was looked down right nasty.

Definitely the kind of outfit he'd chose if he was a Sith Lord.

"Revan…" Bastila whispered.

Xander blinked "Tell me your joking?".

The masked Dark Lord stepped forward, saying nothing as he pulled two lightsabers from his belt. Twin long beams of crimson light sprung forth. Long blades, a good foot longer than any other saber he'd seen yet.

"Oh…this can't be good" Xander muttered quietly.

"DIE!" echoed off the walls, nearly deafening him, as Mission dived forward. Her own bright blue weapon leading the way.

"Mission no!" Bastila yelled, too late to stop the girl.

"Shit" Xander grunted and dived forth as well. Illusion or real, this was the missing Dark Lord responsible for so much death and destruction that he needed to be brought down.

Mission lead with a brutal thrust, only to find her weapon parried and removed from her possession, it clattered across the floor even as the Dark Lord simply nodded, and sent her flying off to the side. She hit the far wall hard, and collapsed to the stone floor. Unmoving.

Xander progressed with far more awareness of the situation. Knowing that to lose control of his emotions or awareness he'd lose quickly.

Words not his own filtered through his mind as he approached the dark lord, just as they did every time he entered battle. Only this time he knew the strange buzz for what it was. And could recognize what was being whispered.

Soresu, the eye of the storm. A distant voice echoed, a sliver of memory he'd gleaned from his link with Shayla.

Revan didn't hesitate, wordlessly moving in with both blades. Which Xander easily deflected, his single blade moving impossibly fast around his body as he met the Dark Lord head on. Gaining no ground, but neither did he give any.

The Dark Lord kept at it however, his strikes precise and filled with rage. It was almost palpable in the air, the hate, rage and need to kill.

He didn't give in however, feeling his concentration focusing to levels he had never achieved before. All of his exhaustion and frustration seemed to almost bleed away as he slipped further and further within himself. Turning what little strength he had towards defence. And found it almost easy.

The battle seemed to almost slow down before his eyes, and he started noticing subtle movements within the dark lord he faced. Recognizing when a strike would come, before it landed. How he held the pommels of both weapons, how his knee's were bent. It all processed at once, and he knew that he could win.

By simply waiting.

Time has no meaning, focus on the center and let your opponent batter themselves against the storm that surrounds you. See everything from within the eye, and you will know when to strike.


Bastila witnessed Missions pointless attack, and her flight across the room. And instinctively raised her own weapon to join the man she once loved in battle, only to see Xander reach him first.

She hesitated, feeling suddenly torn between the battle and the unmoving child she once considered a little sister.

Heartbeats later, she found herself kneeling beside the unconscious form of Mission Vao. Her eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids. She stretched out with her feelings, and knew she'd be fine. Though she'd likely wake up with a bit of a headache.

Turning to see how Xander was doing, she hesitated a second time. Her jaw dropping in awe at what she saw only a few meters away.

Revan was hammering away with the same intense fury he always employed. Even when he believed he was someone else. Jar-kai, the dual bladed style he had easily mastered, as both Revan and his counterpart persona. With heavy influences from Juyo, a style that focused largely on offensive attacks.

And as she could remember with such ease, Revan made it look easy. Unpredictable, yet with a savage grace few could achieve.

But it was Xander that had her attention, his face a mask of calm acceptance even as he stood before the Dark Lord. Completely opposite of the man he faced, employing Soresu with a degree of skill that was not only shocking, but just as enchanting.

Every strike levelled at him was deflected or easily avoided, spinning and weaving with a grace that she would never have attributed to the physically larger man.

And then everything changed, somehow Xander spotted an opening which he took advantage of without hesitation. Calling upon a commonly employed acrobatic twisting leap common to Ataru. And landed behind the dark lord.

His Violet blade seemed to spin around the masked Sith's head, as if floating all on it's own even as he touched the ground.

And Revan promptly vanished, as though he never was.

Xander turned towards them without a seconds hesitation, only to stop. A strange look flashing across his face.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he pitched forward. Smashing to the ground face first.

Class M Freighter - Hyperspace en-route to Nar Shaddaa…

Buffy tossed in the bunk, trying to get comfortable. She knew that it wasn't the mattresses fault, so why was she finding it so hard to even take a nap?.

With an irritated growl she tossed the thin blanket away, and quickly dressed. Choosing the loose fitting combat fatigues provided by Riley. She had to admit, they were comfortable, especially the boots.

With that done she headed for the common area, and paused as she stepped onto the grid-like walkway that connected the berthing compartments to the common area, allowing a clear view of the cargo bay below.

Where her sister and the new guy. Mical. Were once again sparing, two short red blades versus emerald green. And jut seeing those bright weapons had her rubbing the spots that still felt sore, compliments of her sister during their last session.

And again she was blown away by the skill her eighteen year old sister was displaying. At the moment she was standing almost still, her two weapons weaving in a complicated pattern all around her. Like a shield of crimson energy. Not a single strike from Mical could penetrate.

The man pressed his assault for a few more seconds before backing off, stopping only a few feet away, his sword aimed down at an angle one handed. Almost like a fencer.

"Impressive, you have an excellent grasp of Soresu, but i sense your concentration is lacking. To use the third form effectively you must remain in complete control, and retain complete concentration" he explained.

Dawn nodded "I know, i can feel the strain of focusing so completely. But the harder i try, the more difficult it is to concentrate".

Mical relaxed his stance "You have the instincts, and the skill. Perhaps you are relying on your other senses too much".

"How?" Dawn asked.

Mical smiled "A test" he replied, and moved to the far wall. Taking a flight helmet from one of the crates they had move on board "Put this on" he ordered and moved back to position.

Dawn stared at it "Huh?".

"Put it on" he repeated.

Bufy smirked as she stared down at the odd appearance of her younger sister, dressed in the same combat fatigues and wearing a rather bulky flight helmet.

"Drop the blast guard" he continued.

Buffy's smile vanished. This didn't sound good.

Dawn hesitated for a second, but said nothing. Following the order and dropped the blast shield.

Mical didn't wait, he surged forward "Shii-Cho!" he called out as he attacked.

To Buffy's eyes, her sister seemed to move far more smoothly, as though she knew where Mical was at all times. There was no hesitation in any of her movements, though simple this time around compared to the last form she was using.

Mical himself was still using the same form. Moving with an elegance that only added to the man's natural good looks.

"Makashi!" he called out after a few minutes.

Before her eyes, Dawn deactivated one of her blades, and smoothly moved into an identical style as Mical's. Reminiscent of how Giles wielded his favoured weapon, the Rapier.

The single short blade intercepting every strike he sent her way, and followed up with strikes of her own. Back and forth they sparred, taking and giving ground.

"Soresu Single Blade!" Mical hollered after spinning away from a chest level wide slash.

Dawn again became the center of a crimson shield of energy, and this time moved far more smoothly. As if she truly was the center of a storm. The short red blade intercepted every strike, and Buffy could see the strain forming on Mical's face.

Buffy suddenly realised she couldn't see where Dawn had hidden the second blade, it didn't matter however as Mical barked again.

"Ataru!".

Buffy flashed back to the fight where they had met the blonde Jedi Padawan. As Dawn rolled forward, and then leapt into the air, literally appearing every bit a monkey as she moved around the room. Bouncing off the walls, rolling over crates, flipping over Mical. And all the while her weapon lashed out every time she was within striking distance.

The strain on Mical's face was increasing, but she could see the determination in his eyes. He was getting as much practise from this as Dawn was it seemed.

"Free form!" he called out.

Dawn instantly ceased her monkey like manoeuvres, and moved to a new style. To Buffy it looked similar to Soresu, her blade moving close to her body, ready to intercept any strike levelled her way, yet loose enough to launch her own devastating attacks. As Mical discovered only a second later.

Mical was able to hold her off for a few moments, attacking fluidly. But Dawn instantly turned his attack back on him, every strike to be exact.

He would thrust and Dawn would deflect it just enough to avoid being hit even as she led in with her own slash. Mical would slash and Dawn again deflected and followed with a thrust.

Mical switched this time, moving into the form he identified as Soresu, and though not as focused as dawn, his defence was enough to halt her sisters obvious domination in the sparring match.

Buffy could see the young man almost regain some measure of strength within seconds, and then surged forward in the same form Dawn was using.

Dawn somehow knew he had changed tactics, and moved right along with it. Her second blade apearing in her hand, the crimson blade held in a back handed grip, as she met his renewed assault head on.

Not once could Buffy see any fault or weakness in her sisters attacks or defences. She realized with a heavy heart that her little sister didn't need her to protect her anymore, she was more than capable of protecting herself.

Another minute passed before the two parted, an unspoken agreement to cease the match. Dawn pulled the helmet from her head awkwardly, as she was holding two weapons "Wow, that was intense!".

Mical, breathing quite heavily nodded "Truly, in all my years, i have never seen such skill. Not from anyone so young...no offence".

Dawn nodded "None taken. Wow...i know we've gone over the different styles already, but I didn't really know them, if you get my meaning. But when you called them out, i just reacted. Like they were always there".

"Really?. Remarkable. Your connection to Shayla has imparted quite a bit of knowledge it would seem" he said, more to himself "Your skill at first was adequate, but you were distracted. As many experience upon first learning how to wield a Lightsaber".

"The helmet?" Dawn asked.

He nodded "A training tool used by many Knights when training their Padawans".

"What was that last form?. It felt the most natural for me" she asked.

"The sixth form, of seven official forms. It is called Niman, also known as The way of the Rancor, or the Diplomats Form. Originally developed for dual blade combat. However, it is just as effective with a single blade" he explained as he moved to a nearby crate.

"So what about using two weapons with the other forms?" she asked, moving to join him.

"Jar'Kai. A form developed a very long time ago, though it is more commonly used to describe the use of two blades in any capacity" he replied "You however have an inherently advanced grasp of both. Remarkable really".

"Two blades just seems more natural, i can't explain it" Dawn mused "Which means i need to practise with a single blade more".

Mical nodded "A good idea, more than a few Jedi i use to know chose Jar'Kai to add to their preferred styles, which left them somewhat weaker if forced to fight with a single weapon. Devoting time to a specific style is commendable, and i can see you becoming a master in a very short period of time, with enough practise and determination. However, every form has at least one weakness".

Buffy chose that moment to slip away, the show was over. And as much as she felt proud of her sister, she couldn't keep watching.

Partly guilty at feeling jealous, and a little unnecessary, but mostly worried at how their relationship would develop now. Would they drift apart now that Dawn didn't need anyone to watch over her?. She hoped not, but the fear was still there all the same.

Korriban - Ridgeline above the Valley of the Dark Lords…

Jon slipped as quietly as he could into position, and checked the scope on his modified MP5. Spying the group of Sith troops currently situated on the ridge right above the cave Xander had been trapped within.

From what he could make out, they were preparing to start blasting. No doubt hoping to either send down troops to find their target, or lure him out so the numerous troops up above could cut him down with ease.

"This doesn't look good" he frowned.

Two more people joined him, Faith and Bao'Dur. Each sliding up the slope on their bellies and checked out the sight for themselves using the advanced optics visors they were wearing.

"Stating the obvious O'Neill" Faith whispered "You got a plan yet?".

He didn't respond immediately, as his mind was already going over the scene down below. And the years of training and experience he inherited from the other O'Neill analyzed everything.

"They're either going to go after him, which I think is absolutely stupid. Or they're going to try and lure him out" he replied "Only option we have right now, is set up to provide fire support".

"We've got the high ground" Bao'Dur agreed "This whole ridge will give us a good line of sight on every one of those Hutt-Spawns".

"Guys, I'm not so good with guns" Faith added quietly.

Jon passed his MP5 over "It's set for heavy stun".

"Right, this box-like thingy on the front" she nodded as she took the weapon.

Jon just nodded as he pulled his salvaged Blaster Rifle from his back, and checked the power pack before checking his sights. Frowning only a little at the feel of the weapon.

"You really should let me take a look at that when were off this ball of dust" Bao'Dur smiled "A device like that could be adapted for so many different weapons".

"Classified Earth Tech Bao'Dur" he replied, adding a wink a moment later "But if your good, I might be convinced to let you take a gander".

"How good is good?" the Zabrak Engineer asked, even as he readied his own weapon.

Jon let a smile slide into place "Rack up a larger body count than me".

"Deal" he chuckled.

Jon nodded and glanced up and down the ridge "Alright, our best bet is to spread out, just in case they get a good lock on our position. Five meter spread should do it".

Faith nudged him as she slipped away "Good luck boys".

Jon didn't reply, he just watched his two comrades slip away. And found himself once again praying that they all made it out of this one alive.


Commander Dor'Trandel watched with barely restrained anticipation as his troopers finished with the last of the explosives. To the Rutian Twi'lek who had served with the engineering corp back in the last war, nothing was as enjoyable as a good explosion.

A young human female clad in the familiar white armour of the rank and file troopers, broke away from the engineers who were setting up the det-packs. Quickly crossing the rough and rocky terrain as she made her way towards his command tent.

At about ten feet she pulled her helmet free, letting her short red hair free. He noted absently that she was quite stunning really, well, for a human.

"Commander" she huffed, slightly out of breath from the fifty meter jog. Unsurprising really considering the weight of the armour, her heavy blaster rifle and support gear.

"Trooper" he nodded.

"Engineers are almost ready" she quickly reported.

Dor'Trandel raised a single hairless brow, of course their almost ready he thought. Why else would a young trooper be sent to report to him. He took a deep breath, nodding as she stood there, no doubt waiting for his orders.

"You're the ranking trooper correct?" he asked, reaching for his chilled glass of Juma Juice.

"Yes sir, Corporal Vilana.." she began to speak, only to be cut off.

"As soon as the way is clear, you will take you squad and establish a perimeter below. Do not stray from the immediate area. The Assassins will move in after you and begin search and retrieval. The target is definitely a JedI from the holorecordings we retrieved from the Academy, you wouldn't last two seconds" he ordered, then took a tiny sip of his beverage.

She nodded and slipped her helmet back on, and quickly moved to rejoin her squad. The nine other members of which didn't hesitate to prepare the zip-line attachments that came with the belt harness.

His eyes drifted to the ten remaining Assassins that stood perfectly still on the opposite side of the area. Each was in perfect parade rest, right hand behind the back and left hand resting on the hilt of their Tremor Swords.

The new breed of Sith Soldier, silent to a degree unmatched by any special operatives he had ever served with under Revan or Malak. Relentless and not once had he ever heard of one complaining.

He'd never even heard of one speaking unless spoken to first. If he was to be absolutely honest, they terrified him. And he knew he wasn't the only one.

And their numbers seemed to be growing. Lord Sion was now surrounded by them, choosing the silent and efficient assassins over the rank and file soldiers.

Movement from the troopers drew his eyes, the shortest of the assembled squad, Corporal Vil…something. Tapped her helmet, he nodded and slipped the head-set on. Safe up above he could at least keep some measure of control over the personnel heading below ground.

Second squad sound check.

"You sound fine corporal. Remember your orders, secure and wait for the Assassins" he reminded her.

Copy that Commander. Alright troop!, You heard the order, on my go, we drop in, set a fifteen foot perimeter and let the ghosts do their thing. Am I clear?.

Nine voices echoed an affirmative. Shortly after the engineering team signalled the all clear, hightailing it back towards the Armoured ATV parked not far off from his command tent.

Dor'Trandel sipped his juice as he waited. A slow smile stretched across his face as one of the engineers voiced a countdown. His heartbeat accelerating as it neared zero.

A dull and muffled THWUMP shook the ground, he could feel it through his boots. The explosives weren't flashy, or very loud. The mark of a professional however he knew, as the a tiny flash of light accompanied the sound, quickly followed by rising dirt and dust.

That's our cue!. Go. Go. Go. The young female Corporal echoed over the comm's.

He could barely see the dull white armoured Troopers vanish into the dust, then nothing. He couldn't even see the Assassins now, the deluge of dust that still hung in the air was enough to blot out any view of the opposite side of the area where they stood earlier.

He smiled as the Corporal's voice echoed over the Comm's a few seconds later.

Commander, perimeter established. Ghosts are down and fading.

He took another sip of his juice, frowning slightly as he realized the cup was empty. He absently waved for his aide to refill his cup even as he activated his comm's "Good Job Corporal, keep the perimeter until further notice".

Yes sir…wait…Carrik you seeing this?.

Dor'Trandel sat a little straighter in his chair, even as the woman spoke.

Commander, we've got movement. Correction we've got lightsabers!. Troop, pin them down!.

Even from his post, a good distance from the improvised hole, the zing of Blasters erupting could easily be heard. Dor'Trandel absently pulled his own blaster pistol free from it's holster, knowing all too well what would happen if the enemy were to escape.

It was over in less than five seconds.

Five entire seconds. Was there an army down there?.

He stood and kicked his small portable table over, sending the refilled cup of juma juice spilling to the ground "All personnel on me!" he bellowed. And not a moment too soon, as three glowing streaks of light appeared within the settling dust.

Violet, Blue and Red.

Only three. How could they have carved there way through ten Assassins and ten Troopers so quickly?.

"Fire on my mark!" he hissed, just as the twelve man Engineering squad and his young Rodian Aide formed up around him.

His order to fire was never formally issued however, as a jumpy young human engineer pulled the trigger on his rifle only a second later. The entire area quickly filled with the bright red bolts of Blaster fire.

Well, over a year since my last update. Damn do I feel like a boob for not keeping up with this one. Again my sincerest apologies to all who've been reading and looking forward to it's continuation. Even I will admit that a year between updates is rather ridiculous.