Like Flies to Wanton Boys

His soldiers recoiled visibly after they had seen his face. He paid no mind to it; his mind was preoccupied with another revelation. When he boarded his vessel, he could only stare out into space, the explosions around the station lit the black morass. He paid no attention to the death and destruction around him. It didn't matter—Dante was alive! He could only focus on the image that reflected off the transparisteel. The eyes stared back… they were no longer the deep brown orbs that had brought comfort and peace to those who had mattered in the past.

"Nathaniel…" he breathed. His memories had resurfaced. He knew that Nathaniel's death would never go unanswered. He knew that Nathaniel had fought for them both—and ultimately lost his life in the process. Xavier was gone the moment he had killed Nathaniel. All that was left was an angry and power-thirsty Dark Jedi—Seth. Seth knew that Dante would never join him now, in fact, Dante was now his greatest threat. Malak could never pose as much of a threat as Nathaniel and Dante. Nathaniel was dealt with—Seth had seen to it. Revan was dealt with—Malak had seen to that. All that remained was Dante. If he had amassed such power-- as Seth had felt prior to the engagement--, then it stood to reason that Dante could rival even the power of Vandar and Revan. He could even match those of Nihilus and Traya. But he would be too powerful… he would never reach that power, but the Unifier was the one key to unlocking unlimited power from both sides of the Force. Dante was much further along the trail.

"I wouldn't think of harming him, if I were you," came a voice that reflected his own. It startled Seth, who turned away from the window and gazed right at a blue aura reflection of himself.

"Nathan," he gasped. One of the benefits of being a Sith Lord was that no one would sit in the main hold, especially since it was Seth's private shuttle.

"You know I'm right, Xavier." The voice was reassuring, calm and yet somehow teasing.

"Shut up. You're dead!"

"Of course I am, you were the one who killed me." A smile formed on his face, a soft yet mocking smile that accompanied his mocking tone.

"Nathaniel, you tried to stop me from becoming great."

"Look, you can kid yourself all you want, but face the facts Savvy. You sought power and you killed Zan and myself. Was it really worth it?"

Seth was taken back by his old nickname that only Nathaniel and Dante would have called him. Savvy. He looked at the soft brown eyes of his brother. The same eyes he had. Not quite. "No…" he answered.

"Of course not."

Seth—Xavier, looked out at the spectacle before him. The control, the ability to crush those in my way…I can be more powerful than any Jedi! More powerful than Malak himself! He looked back at Nathaniel. "Not yet, at least. I will become more powerful than any Jedi. Dante would be wise to join me. We could rule the Galaxy in your honour!"

"Do you really think he'd fall as far as you have? Do you really think that you can delude yourself with these illusions of grandeur?"

Seth stared icily towards the spectre. "They are not illusions. He will join me or fall by my hands."

"Of course, because that's going to make up for the fact you so desperately want someone with you. Lotus isn't even doing it for you, Savvy!" The spectre only chuckled.

"Shut up! I am not Xavier! I am SETH!"

"I'm sure you are. Tell it to yourself a hundred times, but the fact remains that you are Xavier: my younger brother by 3 minutes, my killer and the traitor to all that meant something to you."

Xavier stared silently at the blue figure.

"Face it, Savvy. You're all alone—that's why you want Dante so badly. The last link to us—to you—presented itself to you today. It made you realize that all the warmth and love you ever felt in your life is gone because you thought power was the way for you. No amount of power will ever keep you safe. You will always have enemies within your ranks… potential assassins. The list will only grow with time. Your apprentice will kill you in a matter of time."

Xavier could only feel rage at the blue spectre.

"I think that's another reason why you want baby bro. You think he won't kill you!"

Xavier felt the rage and urge to hurt something swirl within himself. He knew Nathan's bloody spectre was right. He is alone.

"Well guess what, Savvy?" Nathaniel continued. "He'll sure as hell kill you now! I don't think killing me in the past is water under the bridge to him."

"Don't call me Savvy," he hissed.

"After all," the spectre said, ignoring Xavier's warning. "He didn't know if either of us were alive during the Mandalorian war! So it's been even harder on him now!"

"I am Darth Seth!" He screamed. "I am the bane of the Jedi! I slaughtered countless foes and I killed you!" He rose from his seat, fragile instruments in the main hold collapsed under itself. His rage was visible and growing. "I will have my power and nothing will stop me! I will make the Jedi pay for what they've done!" He had gazed out into space, watching the growing slaughter as four of his vessels were engaged against the local militia and the Republic flotilla.

"And what exactly is it that the Jedi have done to you?" Nathaniel asked.

Before Seth could answer, he spun around and saw no one sitting in front of him. No reflection…no blue spectre…nothing.

"My lord," came a voice over the com. "We're about to dock with the Inferno."

"Very well," Seth replied, calming himself. "Inform Captain Stormov to set a course for Dagobah—the final key awaits us there. Leave the rest of the task force to deal with this."

"Yes, my lord."

With that, Seth continued to look out at the explosions in space. He watched one of his own vessels tear apart in a torrent of flames and debris that encompassed many unfortunate pilots. He closed his eyes and entertained the idea of going into his training room where he can destroy countless droids.

He would no longer wear his mask. He wanted Dante to see the face that would be known throughout the Galaxy as its ruler. He wanted Dante to see his missed opportunity. He wanted Dante to know that nothing would stop him. After a few more moments, a dark smile found itself on his face.

The deaths of Hex, Haden and Tun had not gone unnoticed. The hum of the vessel traveling through hyperspace filled the sounds of the corridors and hold. Not much was said, except for an attempt at last rites for the lost companions. Rin especially was too crushed by the loss of the young Padawan. She hadn't come out from her dorm for hours. The sound of the engines filled the ship's silent interior.

Flin and Frreral's hasty departure also had caused the ship to feel all the more empty. At one point, the crew would have enjoyed their own solitude, but it was melancholic now. Everyone had found a way to maintain a busy composure. The commandoes were silently grieving for the loss of one of their own. Gors, Sirry and Sekula recited their mantra to the fallen. Phaete spent his time meditating in the cargo bay, eager to pass the time until he would be needed. After the assault on Gateway, Phaete had been allowed to roam free. He would be reported at a later date—assuming they all survived this mess.

Carrying a tray of food, Dante walked into the dormitory where Rin had spent her time, mourning the loss of Rin. He knew all to well about the pain of losing someone close. He kept his pain closed; the revelation of Seth's identity and Nathaniel's fate was far too much for him. He would deal with it at a later date. There were more important things than his own feelings at stake. He saw her, lying on the cot, with a light sheet covering her.

Her eyes were open, rimmed with tears. Her expression was dour. She paid no attention to him, lost within her own thoughts. It would have been miraculous if she even glanced at him. As it stood, nothing mattered to her. The young Twi'lek was gone.

"Rin," Dante finally said.

She said nothing.

"All right." He sat down on the same cot, at the edge of her feet. He could feel the grief permeate through her being, finding its way all throughout the ship. "I brought you something."

She continued to stare out into her own world.

"You need to eat. Keep your strength up."

Nothing but sorrow.

He sighed. "I know her loss is hard. But we need you now, more than ever."

She continued to say nothing.

"I spoke to Lon and Simon. They had tried to speak to you earlier. I know that you feel pain now, but Rin, you need to hold on strong. Don't shut us out through the Force. Her loss is natural."

Rin glared at the young man. "There is nothing natural about the death of a 17 year old Padawan," she hissed.

"I know."

"You know nothing."

"I know the pain you feel."

"How could you? Alec was 56, he was near to his death bed."

Those words stung him. Betraying no emotion, he replied, "perhaps, but I also know that even if he wasn't, it still hurts."

She continued to glare.

"I feel and understand your pain, Rin. Don't shut us out."

"She was like a sister to me. Do you understand that?"

"More than you can possibly know." He looked at the grid panel, his expression grim at the recent meeting he had with Xavier—no, Darth Seth.

She cocked her head, realizing that she may have struck a nerve. "I'm sorry, Dante. I don't know what came over me."

"It's all right," he said, shrugging it off. "I know Tun was young, but I also know that she has become one with the Force. You will see her again, Rin. Trust me on that. But for now, we need you. The Galaxy needs you. I need you."

"It never goes away, doesn't it?"

"The pain?"

She nodded.

"No, it never goes away. But with the last rites, at least we gain some closure. She'll be with you, Rin, have no fear of that."

"I don't fear that. She was young. She should never have been killed. She should never have been sent on this mission." Her voice began to grow louder. She raised off her cot, looking at Dante, her expression seemingly brooding. "Damn the Council! Damn Phaete! What kind of Master was he? He didn't even train her; I spent my time training her! This mission is not even worth anything! The Unifier doesn't even exist! We're chasing a myth—nothing more than phantoms or-or a fairy tale! I bet we'll find ruins and return to see the Galaxy in flames. They deserve it. No just the Jedi, but the Sith too. They all deserve it."

He felt the words that came from her, the venom in her tone, the anger, and the hatred of all things in the Galaxy. He felt the lure of the Dark Side within him as surely as she felt it within herself now. There was nothing sanctimonious about the Jedi—not when they are in war, at least. He knew she was feeling the pull just as he was. The tempting tone of the Dark Side, whispering in its honeyed tongue to give in to anger. To release all that was kept from reaching its true potential. Dante shrugged it off. He knew the call of the Dark Side all too well.

"They took her away from me. I want them all to suffer. I want to watch them suffer. I want to taste their suffering. The Galaxy's taken everything away from me and I want to make it pay," she continued.

"Perhaps, Rin," he finally said at last. "But that would mean taking away everything that ever meant something. You are not the only one who suffers. Frreral suffers, I suffer, and countless billions suffer daily."

"The Jedi brought it down on the Galaxy. Sanctimonious bastards. We are Jedi, we're supposed to be greater than everyone else."

He looked at her, in her eyes. "Perhaps that is why many have gone to the Dark Side. Rin, did you ever consider that maybe it's because we have to be the mysterious Jedi—to maintain that idea of being righteous and holier-than-thou—that makes us fall? The Jedi are many things and unfortunately, we have to take the many romanticisms and criticisms that come with us being Jedi. We are just like the rest of the Galaxy. We just have a bit more talents, that's all."

She had calmed down, at least, for a moment or two.

He sighed, feeling that he could confess to her about the truth between Seth and him. "Seth is my brother. He's so far gone into the Dark Side that I couldn't even recognize him. He told me the truth about Nathaniel. I wanted to hurt him, cause him the pain that I had to endure over the last 7 years… yet I didn't." He looked up at her. "I know what it is to feel the anger, Rin, but trust me, do not allow it to consume you."

"He's your…?" She barely managed.

"Yes."

"How can that be?"

"My brothers… they took part in the Mandalorian Wars. He killed…Nathaniel…"

She looked at him and could only say, "I'm sorry."

He looked at her and subtly nodded. "I know."

"I've lost everyone that I cared about. I don't want to lose anyone else." Her eyes focused on him, brimming with new tears.

"Rin, no one else will leave you, I promise." He rose, embracing her in his arms, feeling her open up through the Force, where he began to soothe her. He knew that the last of her family being killed was what had begun to renew its feast within her. He caressed her cheek and wiped the tears from her eyes.

She wrapped her own arms around Dante, feeling the warmth that came from him. "Don't leave me, please."

"I won't," he said. He held her in his arms for a moment longer.

She looked up at him, in his eyes and saw that he would never leave her. He had loved her from the beginning, as she did with him. She kissed his lips and pulled back, gazing into his eyes once more.

He kissed her, they felt only warmth.

He lay next to her on the cot. She was in his arms, the sheet had covered them both. She looked safe…content and peaceful. Her serenity caused the Knight to smile softly to himself. For once, in a very long time, he too felt really happy and safe. In one corner of the Galaxy, something was going well. He closed his eyes, eager for sleep to take him.
Alec had been forced to fight the other Mandalorians. Dante had squared off against the leader, the one in a rusted blood coloured suit. The Mandalorian had referred to himself only as Hessian. A great warrior. Dante's blade struck against the vibrosword of the Mandalorian, his thrusts and parries were all deflected expertly by Hessian.

The Mandalorian was easily a seasoned veteran. His sword continued to play with the sapphire blade of Dante's. In a stunning manoeuvre, Hessian grabbed the hand of the teenager, and elbowed the Jedi right in the face, sending the Padawan back, dazed. Now was the time for the killing blow.

Dante regained his composure after being sent back by the Mandalorian leader. He glanced at Alec, who had expertly sliced through one of his opponents and had maimed two others. As the young man looked back at Hessian, he saw the thrust coming at him. Shifting to the right, he brought his blade upright and deflected the thrusting sword, slapping it away from him, while Hessian continued to move on momentum towards the young Padawan. In a blur, the young Jedi spun around, carving his blade across the face of the Mandalorian, slicing at the warrior's neck.

He was surprised at the reversal of his own attack—watching in agonizing pain as his instant victory was turned into a defeat. Hessian screamed out for a few seconds, the searing pain on his face, tearing through his flesh and instantly cauterizing the wound. He found himself on the ground, his sword clattered to the other side of the corridor.

Dante ignored the fallen warrior, noticing that Alec had dispatched with the rest of the Mandalorians. The countdown had continued unabated, imminent death and destruction teasing the pair. Both Jedi jumped into an escape pod, eager to find a way out. In a handful of seconds, both Jedi clambered aboard and shut the door as they heard the hiss of the docking clamps release and feel the rockets ignite, propelling the Jedi towards the Guardian. It appeared that the Mandalorians were only on board the freighter, nowhere else. Gazing back, Dante saw the freighter explode, bursting into red and orange flames. He caught a brief glimpse of what could have been another escape pod ejecting, but he doubted it. No one else was left alive. Not even Hessian.

Sekula had continued to stay at the helm, eager to watch any other change. He knew Gors had chosen to get some sleep, there wasn't much anyone could do, for the moment. It was better to get some rest so as to be frosty later rather than stay up only to be burnt out during combat. He had elected to stay at his post. Piloting vessels, even through hyperspace, seemed to be his answer to meditation. He glanced towards the co-pilot's chair as he saw Sirry strap herself in.

The olive coloured woman glanced at him and smirked. For a demolitions commando, she was still very attractive. Her short cropped chestnut brown hair, flowed against her sparkling green eyes. For a few months, both commandoes had partaken in a rather interesting relationship. One, where no one—not even Flin or Dante—knew of. She had locked the cockpit doorway, eager to just spend time with the dark skinned man.

"Hello there, lieutenant. Is there something I can help you with?" A wry grin formed as he spoke.

"Only in your dreams, flyboy," she punched him on the arm, chuckling as he grunted. There was nary a man who could best Sirry in hand-to-hand combat.

"Well, perhaps I should reprimand you for hurting your commanding officer." He continued to smile until she kicked him. "Ow. Can't seem to catch a break here."

"Well, maybe you can." She leaned and kissed the commando.

"Ah, well then, I think a couple more of these will suffice."

"Really?" She smiled again. "Well, how about this?" She punched him again on his arm.

"What did I do to deserve this?" He grumbled as he rubbed his aching arm. "Commanding Officer, indeed."

She grinned. "Well, flyboy, I think it's time we told Dante."

He looked at her seriously. He knew what she was referring to. "If I do, that means we get pulled off this mission. That means Dante will have to wait while the Sith get the third key and the location for the artifact."

"Sekula, we're going to have a child. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

He looked at her, sympathetically. He took her hand in his and kissed it. "You know it does, Sirry. But right now, if we let them know, we will get pulled off this mission and the Sith may even win this war."

"The Republic is collapsing."

"I know that. But listen to me, if we leave this war, thousands—maybe millions more will die. We are the key to ending this war! I know it."

"And what happens if you're killed during this fight?"

"What happens if we leave this thing unfinished?"

She was silent. He was right. They were both Republic soldiers. This war would only drag on, perhaps even bringing their child into the war.

"Look, after this mission, I'll make sure that you and I will retire to some distant corner of the Galaxy, where it's not plagued by the war. We'll have our kid and we'll be without a care in the world. We need to see this through, believe me, Sirry."

She nodded solemnly. "You better make good on that promise, otherwise I'll make you wish you'd been fed to the krayt dragon on Tatooine."

He smirked. "Something tells me that I already regret not being fed to it sooner." He sighed softly. "I'm sorry about Hex, Sirry."

She nodded grimly. "Me too. She was a good friend."

Before the conversation could continue, a warning signal began to beep. They were dropping out of hyperspace. Dagobah was within their reach. The retrieval of the third key was now their goal. The salvation of the Galaxy lay moments away from becoming a reality. The war would come to an end—one way or the other.