Vir LeKhan: An Introduction
Ome Caporatti was briefing his henchmen.
"So where do I fit in?" asked Vir, even though he already knew. You didn't have to know the Force to figure out what mercenaries are for.
"You." Replied Ome. "You will breach the Jedi defence, and assassinate."
"Him!" Pherall Kligen had joined in. "He assassinates? I'm the best gun merc in the galaxy, and you're asking this kid with nothing but a little puny laser dagger to do it?" Pherall shook his head. "I could take you out with just one shot, kid. Nothing escapes my scope when I focus on it."
"Guns aren't exactly the best weapon against the Jedi, Kligen." Ome's experience spoke.
"Really? Then we'll just test out my brand new T5-Claw Series on this kid. I could kill him with my eyes clo-" Pherall's throat started contracting. That was when he first saw the look in the young Uberjedi's eyes. Hate. Pure hate, fueled by years of training, suffering, nothing else but hate. The Diorian hitman started to stutter.
"C'mon, kid, you know I didn't mean to really do that."
Breathing was hard now, let alone begging for mercy. Suddenly Vir's light side woke him up. He released the mercenary, who now had blood streaming out of his ears. Fortunately for Pherall, Diorians possess a natural healing agent in their blood. Pherall pulled out the T5.
Vir's Jedi training saved his brain from being instantly vapourized. In the split-second he had to react to the blast, he turned his head. The blast just grazed the left eye. Now filled with rage, he unleashed the full force of his Sith power.
Pherall was held in a Grip so tight that blood was now gushing smoothly out of his mouth, ears, nose, anywhere it could flow out from. He was lifted clear off the ground and slammed into the face of a cliff. Now screaming in pain, he lifted the T-5 as a gesture of defiance, even near death. It was pulled straight out his hands and crunched up by the Force.
The henchmen, ardent fans of the now late Pherall Kligen, didn't like it. They stared closing in on the Uberjedi, growling insults and death threats. Vir didn't even break a sweat. His eye was a complete radioactive mess, but he had other things to concentrate on. One of the brawny Del'Marqui bodyguards charged. Vir killed him without even having to turn around, with a bolt of electric blue Sith lightning that seemingly jumped out of one of his four hands. Just as the other henchmen pounced, a blood-red blade emerged from Vir's Durallex jacket. It swirled around a few times, creating beautiful patterns in the night sky. The henchmen didn't have time to admire this, because they were being slashed up right where they stood with a "puny little laser dagger". Never underestimate the sheer power of a lightsaber, Vir thought. Too bad that idiot Kligen never knew. He chuckled softly to himself.
The Dantooine cliff was a mess. Severed Del'Marquis lay all over the ground. The only survivor of Vir's onslaught was Ome. Looking back at where Kligen lay, he soon turned away, put off by the gruesome sight.
"Some mercenary." Vir spoke for the first time since the night before. Then he strode off to his ship.
Ome Caporatti was briefing his henchmen.
"So where do I fit in?" asked Vir, even though he already knew. You didn't have to know the Force to figure out what mercenaries are for.
"You." Replied Ome. "You will breach the Jedi defence, and assassinate."
"Him!" Pherall Kligen had joined in. "He assassinates? I'm the best gun merc in the galaxy, and you're asking this kid with nothing but a little puny laser dagger to do it?" Pherall shook his head. "I could take you out with just one shot, kid. Nothing escapes my scope when I focus on it."
"Guns aren't exactly the best weapon against the Jedi, Kligen." Ome's experience spoke.
"Really? Then we'll just test out my brand new T5-Claw Series on this kid. I could kill him with my eyes clo-" Pherall's throat started contracting. That was when he first saw the look in the young Uberjedi's eyes. Hate. Pure hate, fueled by years of training, suffering, nothing else but hate. The Diorian hitman started to stutter.
"C'mon, kid, you know I didn't mean to really do that."
Breathing was hard now, let alone begging for mercy. Suddenly Vir's light side woke him up. He released the mercenary, who now had blood streaming out of his ears. Fortunately for Pherall, Diorians possess a natural healing agent in their blood. Pherall pulled out the T5.
Vir's Jedi training saved his brain from being instantly vapourized. In the split-second he had to react to the blast, he turned his head. The blast just grazed the left eye. Now filled with rage, he unleashed the full force of his Sith power.
Pherall was held in a Grip so tight that blood was now gushing smoothly out of his mouth, ears, nose, anywhere it could flow out from. He was lifted clear off the ground and slammed into the face of a cliff. Now screaming in pain, he lifted the T-5 as a gesture of defiance, even near death. It was pulled straight out his hands and crunched up by the Force.
The henchmen, ardent fans of the now late Pherall Kligen, didn't like it. They stared closing in on the Uberjedi, growling insults and death threats. Vir didn't even break a sweat. His eye was a complete radioactive mess, but he had other things to concentrate on. One of the brawny Del'Marqui bodyguards charged. Vir killed him without even having to turn around, with a bolt of electric blue Sith lightning that seemingly jumped out of one of his four hands. Just as the other henchmen pounced, a blood-red blade emerged from Vir's Durallex jacket. It swirled around a few times, creating beautiful patterns in the night sky. The henchmen didn't have time to admire this, because they were being slashed up right where they stood with a "puny little laser dagger". Never underestimate the sheer power of a lightsaber, Vir thought. Too bad that idiot Kligen never knew. He chuckled softly to himself.
The Dantooine cliff was a mess. Severed Del'Marquis lay all over the ground. The only survivor of Vir's onslaught was Ome. Looking back at where Kligen lay, he soon turned away, put off by the gruesome sight.
"Some mercenary." Vir spoke for the first time since the night before. Then he strode off to his ship.
