3

The light of the early morning sun glistened through the trees as the trio of fighter craft approached. Kreygor stood in his command room, and scoffed at the results of his radar scan. Three there were that had returned, of the fifteen he had sent on the mission. Obviously they were not as ready for action as he had hoped. Through a one way observation screen that looked out into the hangar, he watched for a moment as the three ships came in to land, before turning disgustedly and leaving the room.

Including himself, there had been eighteen Dark Jedi living here in this secret underground lair, and for the last eight months he had been instructing them in the ways of the dark side of the Force. His master had trusted him with this task, believing him to be the most powerful and advanced of all the current students. Until today things had gone well, but he would have a hard time indeed explaining the loss of twelve Dark Jedi in one battle. His master was a cold, cruel, and very powerful being, and would probably destroy him where he stood when told the news. That is, if he didn't know already.

Kreygor grit his teeth thinking of the other two Dark Jedi he had sent on another mission. They had better be successful, or he would definitely be branded a failure. His only chance now was to recruit new, more powerful Dark Jedi, and train them to an even better standard. Yes, he thought. He would make his enemies pay for these losses, and that would show his master what he was capable of. Maybe then, he could take his place among his master's personal retinue, and be there should a chance arise to take ultimate rule of the Dark Jedi.

The door to his quarters slid open and he stepped inside, the thoughts of the time of his rule still dashing through his mind. Those would be glorious days indeed, and the galaxy would whimper before him. He walked to the far side of the large room, easily four times the size of the quarters possessed by the other Dark Jedi, and activated a holographic imaging device. Upon its surface it played out re-enactments of several great battles from years gone by, and Kreygor watched, feeling invigorated by its scenes of violence.

Before long, the buzz of someone at his door got his attention. He deactivated the imaging device, and turned.

"Enter," he commanded, and the door opened. The three Dark Jedi stepped forward, all at once trying to look brave and strong, but he could sense they were fearful of what his reaction would be. He flicked his gaze across them, and didn't have to try very hard to look menacing with it.

On the right as he looked, he was surprised to see that the Gran had returned. He was one of the less developed students, and his powers were weak. Kreygor wondered how he had survived when some of the more promising Dark Jedi had perished.

The shallow and selfish side of him was glad to see the sight of the purple skinned female Twi'lek. Inside he smiled to himself, for she had proven she did not need to be good in battle to be of use to him. He had taken great pleasure using her in many ways most beings could not even imagine, and had been even more impressed at the fact she enjoyed it too. There could be few in the galaxy, he thought, more depraved and immoral as she.

The last of the three was not a surprise to Kreygor in the slightest. The red and black armoured human cyborg was easily one of the more dependable of his students, and he had known him for a long while now. Formerly a Jedi apprentice, he had grown tired with the rules and restrictions of the Jedi Order and had turned against them. The injuries he had sustained, which had left him requiring a mechanical right arm and leg, had only cemented his hatred of the Jedi. He had developed into a cold and calculated fighter, and his piloting skills were arguably the best among them, Kreygor was forced to admit. Not that he would admit it out loud.

"Are you all that have returned?" Kreygor asked, using it as a statement of his disappointment rather than a question.

"We were ambushed, Kreygor," the Gran answered. "The Jedi arrived, and in a Calamari cruiser. We could not fight them without more numbers."

"Could not fight?" Kreygor scoffed. "What have I been teaching you here? Do you learn nothing?"

The Gran was tempted to step back, away from his instructor's malice, but dared not show him another sign of weakness.

"Ro-Donic speaks the truth," the cyborg explained. Through his helmet, his deep voice was distorted as though it was mechanical, making him sound even more intimidating. "Not even you would have been able to survive that battle for long."

"Do you dare insult me?" Kreygor asked plainly. "If just one of you had but half the power that I had, then maybe you would not struggle to complete some of these simple tasks that I set."

"We could not have foreseen such an intervention," the female Twi'lek purred.

"Our master will not be pleased at this setback, my dear Karynna," Kreygor explained. "Do you wish to be the one to tell him?" When she did not answer, Kreygor continued. "His recruitment goes well. Gorek II must be taken to keep up with his demands. What is the state of the outpost's defences?"

"We had almost decimated them when the Jedi arrived," Karynna explained.

"That is something of merit at least," Kreygor snarled.

"Their annihilation would have been total," Ro-Donic assured him. "Were it not for the Jedi Gorek II would already be in our hands. I do not understand how they knew where we would attack."

"I have warned you all in the past," the cyborg said. "Master Skywalker sees much. His power is great."

"Power? Ha! He knows nothing of power," Kreygor alleged.

"You would be wise not to underestimate him, or his Jedi."

"I have nothing to fear from such pitiful warriors," Kreygor bellowed. "There is only one who possesses more power than me. And one day I will surpass even him."

"That I do not doubt," Karynna said with a wicked smile. "But what if the Jedi come here? Our numbers are now depleted."

"You need not worry about that," Kreygor assured her. "This facility is well hidden, and many more will soon join us."

"This is a risky scheme," the cyborg figured. "If the Jedi discover why we attacked Gorek II, they will not waste any time in hunting us down."

"Sometimes I wonder if you made the right decision," Kreygor said.

"What do you mean?" the cyborg responded.

"When you turned your back on the Jedi, was it a tough choice?" Kreygor asked sarcastically. "Did it tear you up inside, Ghyron? Did it?"

"No!"

"Oh?" Kreygor asked. "Then why do you always seem so eager to praise them?"

"I would never praise the Jedi," Ghyron insisted. "But you should not presume they are weak as you do."

"So you think because you spent time in their precious Academy, or because you have met the almighty Skywalker, that you have authority to instruct me?"

"No," Ghyron accepted. "I do not."

"Good," Kreygor told him. "Never forget that the Jedi are nothing when compared with the power of the dark side."

The three Dark Jedi nodded their agreement, so Kreygor turned and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. As they neared the door, he made a decision. "Karynna," he said.

"Yes?" the Twi'lek answered, turning back to him.

"You will stay," Kreygor told her. "I require... your assistance."

Karynna smiled a twisted, flirtatious smile. "Of course, Kreygor."

Ghyron and Ro-Donic left, making sure to close the door as they did so.


Through a viewing screen immediately to his right, Macan caught his first glimpse of the planet he was being taken towards. As far as he could tell, the entire planet seemed covered in trees and vegetation. A great place for someone to hide, he realised.

His journey here in his captors' transport had not been pleasant, and neither one of them had given him any clue as to why he had been abducted like this. Actually neither of them had really said anything all the way here. But down there on that deserted forest planet, something told him he would soon find out.

The transport shook for a few moments as they passed through into the atmosphere, and then Macan could finally appreciate in full the natural beauty of the landscape. The rich dense forests stretched out like an ocean in all directions. There was nothing but green extending to the horizon all around, except for straight ahead where the trees rose even higher atop a succession of large hills.

Macan watched as the Zabrak, who was flying the ship, reached down and touched a switch in front of him.

"Transport F01 approaching," he said. "Deactivate the cloak."

The female Togruta turned and caught him watching her colleague. She cast him an ominous glare and he slowly shifted his gaze back through the view screen. At the base of one of the hills they were approaching he suddenly saw some activity, and squinted to make it out. Within seconds, an area that had been covered in trees had vanished to reveal an entrance to a large hidden hangar buried right into the side of the hill. It was an impressive disguise indeed, but why a structure hidden underneath the ground on a distant planet would need one he could not imagine. Macan suddenly realised he was in the company of very desperate people if they needed to hide away to such an extent. This didn't seem good at all.

The transport came to rest on the dirty metal floor of the hangar. The side hatch opened, and they ordered him out. He soon saw that the area was fairly empty, but for a few small but swift looking black craft dotted around the place.

The back wall of the hangar included two large sliding entrances. They had landed nearer the one on the right, and it was this one that his kidnappers pushed him towards. As they stepped through it, they were met by a disgruntled looking Gran who appeared out of another door some way up the corridor.

"You return at last," the Gran said. "We were beginning to wonder about you."

"You should wonder not about us, Ro-Donic," the Togruta told him. "For you should be at Gorek II, should you not? I take your presence here as an indication of failure. Would I be right?"

Macan cringed slightly at the frustrating way she spoke, which was capped off by an even more frustrating tone to her voice.

"We returned several hours ago," the Gran lowered his head in shame. "Our mission was foiled by a Jedi strike force that arrived without warning."

"Jedi?" she asked. "I take it you were careful not to allow them to track you back here?"

"Of course Xeroque," Ro-Donic stated. "I am not as useless as you sometimes think."

"We shall see, shall we not?" Xeroque taunted him.

"Where's the boss?" the Zabrak asked.

"He awaits your delivery," Ro-Donic answered casting a glance at Macan.

"Then we shall waste no more time," Xeroque recommended. "Raelag. Take our guest to the meeting chamber."

"As you wish," the Zabrak complied, and pushed Macan further down the corridor. A little way down another corridor split off to the left, which contained two nearby doors both opposite each other.

"In here," Raelag pushed him through the entrance on the left. "You are wanted inside."

Macan stood just inside the new room for a moment and waited as Raelag moved away down the corridor. A dark and cold feeling crept up his spine as the door slid shut.

"Welcome, Macan," a voice surprised him, as two figures entered from another door on the far side of the room. One of them instantly grabbed his attention, as he was clad almost all over in red and black armour and helmet. The motors in his cybernetic right arm and leg whirred as they powered the frightful looking limbs, and the metal foot rang out on the floor as he paced. The other man looked much more regular, but for the bright red streaks in his otherwise dark hair, and a malevolent look in his eyes that chilled Macan where he stood. Straight away he gave off the impression that he was the one who ran things around here.

"Who are you?" Macan asked.

"I'm glad I finally have this chance to speak to you," the man said.

"That didn't answer my question."

"I foresee you and I becoming great friends one day," the man continued, seeming to completely ignore the other's words.

"I seriously doubt that," Macan muttered. He didn't like this guy already.

"Of course," the man agreed. "You do not know what it is I offer you yet."

"I don't want anything," Macan told him, "except to return to my home."

"And do what?" the man asked coldly. "Continue your pointless existence? What a waste of space you have become."

"Then why bother with me?" Macan asked. "There is little point to my presence here."

"Because I am going to make you strong," the man promised. "Stronger than you have ever been. Stronger than you have ever thought possible."

"Why would I want that?" Macan asked. "Who are you people?" Again they didn't answer, and his only response was a fiendish sneer. As he felt his patience start to wear for the first time, a strange sensation suddenly came about him. He felt something really cold wash over and through him, despite the fact there was no breeze at all. He realised the sensation had come to him through the Force, and something was definitely not right here, he thought. There was evil most dark in this room, yet by some means he believed that something was also familiar.

For the last four years he had shunned his basic Jedi training, and tried his hardest to turn his back on the Force and its powers. He did not want the grief, anger and fear he felt to tempt him to use it in the darkest of ways. But here in the presence of these people the Force seemed to beg him for its attention once again. What could it want him to know? He worried whether he could even use it and control it again, as it had been so long, but something nagged him so hard that he had to know. He calmed his mind, and reached out with all his feelings.

In a flash many things opened up to him. Weak as his connection was these days, the Force still allowed him to sense all of his surroundings. Outside this room he could sense the presence of the others who had accosted him, and he could vaguely make out two others. He stretched out to the boundaries of the construction, and beyond that into the trees and plants where the many forms of life roamed the land. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be connected to the Force. Had he really lived for so long disconnected from these sensations? He had truly been blind.

Once the initial rush was over he breathed deep and focused his attention on the immediate vicinity. He reached out towards the man who had spoke to him, and instantly felt cold and afraid at what he sensed. Surely this was the evil the Force had wanted him to know about. He had never felt such terrible power, fuelled by so much anger, hate and cruelty. At last he understood what it meant to come face to face with someone who had given himself completely to the dark side. Worry instantly began to gnaw at him.

"Ahhh," the man said. "I sense you awaken at last. That is good."

Not to me it isn't, Macan thought, and moved his focus onto the cyborg in the armour. Familiar sensations triggered distant memories as he did so, and in his mind he was taken back to the Jedi Academy when he had last been in the presence of this man. He was startled at his discovery.

"Ghyron?"

"It's been a long time," he confirmed, his voice almost unrecognisable through his helmet.

"You see?" the other man asked. "It's not so bad to take what I offer. Your old friend here is happy with his current arrangement."

"Friend isn't exactly the word I'd use," Macan said.

"You would be wise to listen," Ghyron explained. "Kreygor can indeed make you powerful."

"What if I don't want that?"

"You will," Ghyron promised him. "And taking us up on our offer will be the only way to save your sorry existence."

A feint beeping in the room beyond caught Kreygor's attention. With a nod of the head, he instructed Ghyron away to see what was happening. The cyborg vanished through the door which slid closed behind him.

"If you wish to kill me then just do it," Macan said after a short while.

"That is not what I want," Kreygor explained.

"Then what is it that you wish of me?"

"You are weak Macan," Kreygor told him. "You cannot achieve your true potential because of the hurt and self doubt that you feel."

"So?"

"If you were to give yourself over to the dark side, you would have none of those problems," Kreygor promised him. "Join us, where there is no self doubt, no fear. Only power. Pure, radiant power."

"I do not want that," Macan assured him. "People who seek power inevitably end up seeking conflict, and that is not my way."

"Which would you rather?" Kreygor asked coldly. "Would you squander your remaining days sitting around forlorn, and miserable? Or would you rather be rid of all that frustration and guilt? Were you to give into your anger and find the warrior that is within, you would be able to use the abilities you have been bestowed without any ill feeling or remorse. You would be set free."

"No!" Macan denied. "I would become a slave. A slave as you are, driven only by the dark side. I will not become an instrument of its desire to kill and conquer."

Macan watched as Kreygor stood silent for a moment, seeming to ponder whether to bother continuing this pointless conversation or just strike him down where he stood. The pause ended, as Ghyron entered again and approached. Kreygor moved away with him, and they spoke quietly so that Macan could not hear.

They talked for a while until Kreygor turned back towards his captive. "Excuse us for one moment," Kreygor told him. "It seems we have other... guests to accommodate."

Macan watched as Kreygor followed Ghyron back into the other room. Once they were gone the door again slid shut.

"Contact the others," Kreygor instructed. "We must make ready for these new visitors."

"What of Macan?" Ghyron asked.

"Seal the room," Kreygor instructed, and Ghyron complied by entering the command into a panel near the door. Kreygor moved to the centre of the command room to a large holographic display showing the two X-Wings approaching the planet. "He will turn, Ghyron. Even if we have to exploit his weakness. His frailty. Yes, he will turn."