Hiya, boy what controversy. Well, perhaps some ground rules? I've made some points already, but all respectful reviews are welcome (good, bad, or indifferent), regardless of your writer status and you'll find that if you're logical and reasonable, I'll accept your view most of the time. I am an aggressive debater so just be ready to present a rational point of view. Also understand that I take a lot into consideration, but that the final say on reviewer credibility is mine on this particular site.
Given the limited time that I have for writing, there are certainly things that we'll work on given the good points that were made. I don't take kindly to beingsetup and, if you do your research, you'll see that and understand that I probably won't react in the manner that you anticipate.
Anyway, understand that there are issues beyond my control, but forward progress is always intended.
The Leviathan
A tractor beam forced the Ebon Hawk onto the hangar deck of the Leviathan as dozens of Sith soldiers rushed out to surround the helpless ship. The soldiers' glistening, silver armor reflected the overhead lights, lending the whole scene a sense of gaiety usually reserved for a military parade, giving their ordered ranks the appearance of fish scales. Sith officers in red, shouted precise orders, arraying their troops and support weapons to inflict the maximum damage on any resisters.
The landing struts of the small ship compressed as the weight of the vessel returned to normal and vents of steam shot out from exhaust ports along the fuselage. A squad of troopers hastily set up a heavy repeating blaster to cover a communications team with a commlink.
Behind the mass of soldiers, a Dark Jedi knelt, holding the handset of the link. "You, in the ship, surrender immediately. Prepare to be boarded," he commanded.
The squawk of static heralded an answer. "You're not taking us alive," came the determined response from a man.
"I'd like nothing better than to slaughter you all, but it doesn't suit Malak's purpose. Now, let's be reasonable. You are without hope here, but I have orders to take you alive. Fortunately, there are other members of your motley group that I can use as leverage…including children."
The voice of an adolescent male came through loud and clear. "You just try it!"
The sound of shuffling issued from the speaker of the Dark Jedi's comm set, telling the Sith that there was a struggle for the microphone in the ship. The first male voice spoke with an edge of impotent anger, "You are beneath contempt, but we will surrender."
A hatch alongside of the Ebon Hawk hissed open, but was shrouded by steam. Sith blasters were raised in anticipation of a fight, but Jon stepped out, his hands raised. One-by-one, the others emerged, beaten in spirit, until the whole crew stood before the guns of the enemy. Only young Tankios shook with anger, staring defiantly at the Sith.
Nisotsa, dressed in gray and black, strutted up to Jon and Seja and looked them over carefully. Only the Dark Jedi's eyes could be seen through his mask and he raised an eyebrow.
"So, it is true," he said and then kicked Jon at the back of the knee, knocking the Jedi down. Seja made a furtive move and was clubbed at the base of the neck.
In the ensuing chaos, all of the crew were thrown to the deck amid the wails of the young. The Dark Jedi pointed toward the main hatch to the hangar. "Take these ones to the interrogation room," he told the troops, indicating Jon, Bastila, Carth, Sano, and Seja. "The rest, throw them in the brig."
The five were led off, followed by the remainder of the crew. Then, Sith soldiers boarded ship and emerged with Canderous' stiff form and HK-47's inert chassis. "What do we do with…these?" a sergeant asked Nisotsa.
The Dark Jedi looked the two over with disgust, noting the terrible burns on the Mandalorian's body. "Dump the mercenary in the morgue. The droid…throw it in salvage. We'll get to it later."
The Prison Deck
Cold prison cells sparkled with the light of energy fields that held several of the Ebon Hawk's crew. In one corner, Sano and Seja lay limp upon the floor, groaning weakly. Nearby, three other cells held Carth, Jon, and Bastila.
Jolts of electricity shot into the three and screams filled the chamber. Amid Jon's agony, tears and snot cascaded from his face onto the ground and he collapsed to his knees. The screeching drowned out any other sounds in his mind until his throat was raw from the effort.
When it seemed that he could endure no more, the voltage shot up a notch and his world exploded. Writhing uncontrollably, Jon wanted to beg for mercy…beg to make the pain stop.
Suddenly, it did.
Out of the darkness, a lone man walked toward the cells. Jon couldn't make out the man's features, but the man was dressed in a well-pressed, gray Sith uniform with medals and braids of gold and silver. He wore a fur cap, crafted from the skin of some luxurious beast on some far-off, exotic world. His regal, authoritarian bearing stood in stark contrast to the crumpled forms that lay before him.
From another cell, Jon heard Carth's weak voice.
"Saul…."
The former Republic admiral and stood in the dark, his face partially illuminated by the glow of the force barriers. "Carth Onasi. You've come back to me after all these years. Though you turned away from me once, there may be second chances. Do not worry, my friend," he said in a quiet, almost fatherly manner, devoid of any anger or hatred, "I will be merciful with you."
Jon watched helplessly as Carth rolled about, trying to focus on one of the great betrayers of the Republic. The pilot snarled. "I'm going to kill you, Saul. I've sworn my life to it."
The admiral shook his head sadly. "The years have not been kind to you, old boy. And I highly doubt you're going to have the opportunity to carry out your empty threats here."
Carth spat on the energy barrier, but Saul merely inhaled deeply, shaking his gloved finger in a mocking admonishment.
Saul stood and wandered lazily over to Sano's cell. "What do we have here? One who turned his back on the Sith as well. We have something special reserved for you."
The broad-shouldered man grit his teeth. "For once, I'm with Carth. When we get our hands on you, Saul-"
"And what, you'll kill me, I expect? Like that miserable Exile, you were given the opportunity for power. You were outstanding in the execution of your duties, but you always had that weakness for fairness. Sano, the universe is not a fair place. Get over it," Saul said coldly in his clipped accent.
At that, Seja stood and glared silently at the admiral.
Saul took note of this and chuckled. "And what are you staring at, weakling? You, with that pathetic non-killing oath. I'm surprised that you haven't become a droid programmer."
Seja scowled behind the shimmer of the force barrier, but said nothing.
The admiral turned to look at each prisoner in turn and announced, "It would make all of our lives easier if we would come to some agreement. I will agree to stop torturing you if you agree to reveal the location of the Jedi training facility."
Jon struggled to one knee. "Never."
Saul smiled. "How could I have forgotten about you? It has been a long time, has it not?"
The anger drained from the Jedi's face to be replaced by confusion. "Wha…what are you talking about?"
It was Saul's turn to express amazement. "You really don't know, do you? How extraordinary. Well, I shall not be the one to spoil the Dark Lord's enjoyment."
Jon's confusion became even more apparent and he looked from Carth to Bastila and saw her horrified expression. He tried to reach out. He tried to extend his energy to her, to see what was in her heart, but his connection to the Force was quiet.
Saul observed the unspoken exchange and clapped. "Bravo, I would have expected nothing less than defiance from you. My question was merely a test. Would it surprise you to know that your precious Enclave has been obliterated? Well then, I shall leave you with your pain and hopeless contemplations as I await Lord Malak."
With a smart, heel-clicking turn, Saul turned about and marched out of the chamber, raising his hand to have the torture resume.