Revelations

Their blades continued to cross, silver and emerald against crimson. Lon and Simon continued their battle meld, eager to eliminate their foe before he could pose any more of a threat. As it turned out, Vincent Baroque was a very skilled duelist. It would be very likely that Lon would have to sacrifice himself if they continued to draw out this contest.

Behind the Dark Jedi, Simon continued to block, strike, and deflect each strike that came his way. He knew that this fight was certainly going somewhere.

Vincent continued to lock his eyes onto the blind swordsman, knowing that this was his greater threat. The Padawan was strong in the Force, but nowhere near as strong nor skilled as the Miralukan.

He spun his blade around, forcing himself to turn around and face the Padawan, if only for a moment. As he planted his blade on the surface of the deck, he kicked out and knocked the Padawan in the face, and spun around, lifting his blade around him, deftly hitting the Knight's blade.

It was a blur and Simon found himself pushed away, leaving his Master and the skilled warrior to fight. Shaking his head after gaining his bearings, he looked back and found that both Jedi were much further. Spinning his blade in his hand, the Padawan raced to confront the Dark Jedi.

He parried each and every slash that came towards him, feinting and reaching out in a riposte. He continued to thrust his blade, eager to find some way to end this match. It would only be time until either wielder struck one another.

Using the Force, Vincent reached out for a piece of debris and threw it against a door panel, opening the door and bringing the Jedi towards the engineering room. If you want to die, then so be it! Nothing will stop me! He continued to evade each thrust the Jedi Knight made his way, spinning his blade around horizontally, almost as if it were a shield.

There was no way to penetrate his defences. The Dark Jedi was just too skilled. But Lon knew he was better. He continued bringing his blade high and low, slashing left to right, diagonally and continuing to push his opponent on the defensive. It's only a matter of time, he thought as he continued to push back Baroque.

Simon leapt into the air, knowing that the engineering section had enough room to grant him some freedom. He flew behind the Dark Jedi, bringing his blade to slash across the back of the Dark Jedi.

Anticipating that move, Vincent spun around, forcing both Jedi back. As he did that, he moved towards Lon and brought one side of his blade up towards the face of the Jedi, knowing that he'd block it.

Lo and behold, the blind swordsman did, only to feel the air explode from his lungs as he was sent sailing away from his opponent. Simon! He thought as he slid across the floor. Rising, he shook his head and looked out ahead to see a deep red figure fighting against an indigo figure. Not hesitating a moment, he commanded his blade back into his hand, activating the blade while he ran towards the Sith.

Blocking every attack and being pushed back, Simon found himself cornered. He reached out with the Force and allowed it to guide his hand, unerring for moments.

As Vincent used one blade to strike, he used the other to defend, probing for any weaknesses. He found several, but he knew they might have been feints. It seemed the Jedi Knight taught the Padawan well. Unfortunately, it wasn't well enough. Grinning, Vincent brought his offensive blade to crash and lock against the blade of the Padawan.

Using whatever strength he had, without drawing too heavily on the Force, Simon found he was starting to win. His lips were pulled back, almost as if it were a feral grin, eager to crush the life out of his opponent. It was his fault that he didn't see the second blade come twirling around to decapitate him.

"Dante, join us." He extended his hand out to his brother, eager to let his brother stand side by side. Lotus and the others would be dealt with. Dante felt the presence within Phaete. It was now obvious that Phaete had been the trump card all along.

He continued to look at both groups. He found himself torn between joining his brother, because he would understand what it was like to be a monster. He had hurt Rin, his beloved. But as he looked back at Sekula, he saw his friends and he saw the duty and life he knew was his. Most of all, he looked at Rin's pleading eyes. "Rin," his whispered softly. His heart rose as he felt her within the Force once more, touching him and reassuring him through the warmth that was the Force. He never wanted to lose her again, and by joining the Dark Side, he would have lost her forever.

"No," he said.

"What?"

"I said," looking up at Seth, "no. I will not join you. I am a Jedi Knight, a guardian of peace and justice."

Seth's face turned to one of disappointment and sheer rage. "You dare defy me? You would turn against your own flesh and blood? I see that the Jedi have corrupted you completely, dear brother. If you shall not join me, then you shall die!" He ignited his blade, only to be shoved through the Force and crash against the walls.

"I do not serve you, either, Seth," Phaete replied coldly. "In fact, I never served you to begin with. You were a tool that did the task we set out for you. For that, we thank you," he bowed. "But now, you have expired past your usefulness." His emerald blade somehow seemed darker; somehow malevolent.

"Master," Lotus said, not addressing Seth, but Phaete. "We must retrieve the device." She looked at the Jedi and then back to Phaete. "And soon."

"Yes, my Apprentice," Phaete replied slowly, and much more darkly.

"Lotus!" Seth screamed. "I demand you kill him, now!"

She turned around and gave him a mirthless grin. "I don't take orders from you, Seth."

No, he thought. How could this be? They were all traitors to begin with! And they will take away everything that belongs to me? Lost in his thoughts, Seth didn't see the pile of rocks come crashing down onto him.

"Xavier!" Dante called out. He ignited his lightsaber, a fiery sapphire. "You'll die now, Phaete."

The Iktotchi Jedi merely laughed. "Die? You wanted to kill Seth, didn't you? You practically owe me."

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"You already know. I am merely a servant for a greater Master. You can call me Darth Phaete. There have always been factions within the Sith. My allegiance is to one named Traya. And you will soon know what true pain and power is. You've had a taste of it. The Dark Side is just a part of the greater truth."

"This can't be," the young Jedi exclaimed.

"Oh, I can assure you that it is. The greater truth of it all is that we carry darkness within ourselves. Tap into it, feed it and allow yourself to take control of it, as much a weapon as the one you have in your hand. There are all kinds of evils, Dante. In time, perhaps you would have learned about them all, but I can see that you were never ready to join us in the first place. You're too weak and fearful. And you hide under the banner of the most corrupt and tainted of them all—the Jedi Order!" The Iktotchi couldn't help by laugh at the Jedi and how they had been deluded. After another moment, the follower of Traya looked at Dante. "And now the time for talk has ended. Goodbye," the Dark Jedi said as he brought his hand up to emit blue electricity. Before the crackling energy could crash against Dante, Gors had fired a blaster at the Iktotchi--

--only to have it deflected and sent back into his chest, shoving the commando into a pile of droid parts. Racing to Gors, Dante felt for the pulse of the man. There was nothing. The bolt took him clean in the heart. The melted armour around his chest now flowed with blood that poured slowly, somehow deliberately.

"You—," The Jedi started, his ire awoken.

"That's right," Phaete teased. "Feel the rage and allow yourself to realize the limitless potentials, Jedi. Hate me; feel the rage and know that you are forever bound to the Dark Side! You will never escape it, for as long as you live, then the Dark Side—the truth, and the way of the Force is ours to control. And you, Dante, will find yourself unable to resist the lure, like your predecessors, contemptible fool."

"Bound to the Dark Side?" He felt himself growing in confused rage. Why do they want me to join the Dark Side?

They're lying, a familiar voice said to him. They're Sith; they want their numbers to grow! They are mired in lies and deceit. Don't give in, Dante! This is not your destiny. It was the voice of Alec Ness. Stand strong! Stand strong and fight for the will of the Force!

Calling on the Force, he shoved Lotus and Phaete away, allowing them to crash further into the tunnels. He rose, with fierce determination in his eyes. He took a deep breath and walked slowly towards them; Sekula trailed cautiously behind him, both blasters raised.

Suddenly, there came a shower of rocks as both Dante and Sekula were shoved against the wall, hearing the rage of Seth. "I will not be stopped!" With that, he ignited his crimson blade and leapt out towards Phaete.

Lon could only gasp as he watched his only Padawan die in front of him. "Simon," he barely whispered. No, he thought. No! He found himself giving into rage. "No!" He raced out and leapt to attack the Sith before he could even react.

Forced back on the defensive, Vincent found himself hard-pressed to beat the blind swordsman. But as gifted as his opponent was, in anger, one made many flaws.

Reaching out with the Force, Lon didn't care about how much pain he inflicted upon himself, as long as he hurt and killed Vincent Baroque. Vincent took his apprentice from him. Light and Dark Side be damned. He wanted vengeance. He slammed his blade against one side of the lightsaber and onto the other side in a blur. His hand raced up and down, side to side and in a heartbeat, he and Vincent moved back from one another, pausing in a form that revealed artistic grace as well as raw hatred and anger.

Trying to push the Miralukan onto the defensive, Baroque brought his blade to slash the man in two, only to feel his face be smashed with a foot and hear a snapping sound as his lightsaber was cleaved in twain. This was shortly followed by another kick, this time to the chest, shoving the air out of the man.

I hope you left the ship, Sirry, he thought to himself. He continued to bring his blade to mark against the single blade of his enemy. Now Lon Vorik, the Master duelist, had an edge. In a horizontal slash to slice the Dark Jedi in two, he was surprised by the butterfly Baroque did, evading the slash.

Spinning around, both Jedi found their blades locked against one another and slashed at each other's thighs, only to be deflected by their blades.

Trying to leap high over to the Jedi and slash at his neck, Vincent found himself kicked back and crashing into a wall. His ire now risen, he slashed diagonally at the Jedi Knight, only to slash air, missing the Jedi every time.

"You will die now," came the cold voice of Lon. His blade came up, facing horizontally and locking with the down-cleaving swish of Baroque's blade.

"No!" He yelled. I won't lose everything now! Too much has happened for me to turn back! He reached out with his left fist and smashed the Jedi across the face, shoving Lon back.

He brought his blade to slash left and right, continuing to put the Jedi on the edge.

He didn't anticipate that his overhead cleave would once again be shoved against him as Lon locked blades and then slid it towards Vincent, driving it into the chest, claiming where the Dark Jedi's heart used to be.

The only sound that escaped his voice was air as his face was filled with the dark truth and fear: Vincent Baroque was dead.

But there was something else: Lon Vorik was dying. The Jedi looked at his right breast, where the crimson blade took hold, burning through one of his lungs. It took him a few moments to realize that Baroque must have driven the blade home when he had done the same.

Lon Vorik had moments to live. He felt himself losing air and losing strength as darkness crept around the corner of his sight—more so than the shimmers of the Force had--, overpowering him. "I did it, Simon," he said, as he collapsed on the floor. "I did it." He found sleep to be tempting him. Closing his eyes, he could only hope that Sirry had found a way out.

He felt the shimmering of a young boy giggling, saying, "come Master! I found a way home!" Lon Vorik smiled and knew darkness before flames consumed him.

Sirry continued to move as quickly as she could. She had placed 3 of the four charges already. Time was running out for everyone. The Republic vessels continued to rain energy upon the Inferno, while the Sith warship held its own against the stalwart defenders. Time was running short.

She ran through some of the corridors, her stealth belt's power source still running active. But she was tiring out quickly—one of the disadvantages when she was running for two. Luckily, she was only a month pregnant, so she could handle herself, to some extent. She ran across a corridor where she took cover, looking around and making sure that she wouldn't be spotted. Before she even left, she ducked back as a conduit overloaded from the continuous energy the Republic vessels poured into it.

"Blast," she said as she watched the safety force fields take over. "Need to find a new way," she muttered.

Looking around, she spotted another corner around the bend where several crumpled forms of Sith troopers lay.

As she continued to look about, she ran into the corridor only to come face to face with the girders of a collapsed deck.

"Stars' end," she sighed. Looking about, she found a door to another room that made her smile. She could plant the explosives there. As she continued to move towards the door, she tapped the console to open it.

Nothing.

She tapped it again, hoping she didn't err.

Again, nothing.

She sighed. "I hope I get to kill the man who designed these ships."

She looked around; taking care to make sure no one was around. She deactivated her energy pack and removed a computer spike that allowed her to slice through the terminal's systems to allow her to open the door.

She found herself eager to override the door, but not just that, whatever systems she could get a hold of. As she cycled through the available system commands, she found one of particular interest: security camera.

Smiling, she opened that file and began to cycle through different portions of the ship. Several sections caught her interest as she noticed barracks' full of Sith soldiers. Opening up several security commands, she gassed several of the rooms and overloaded terminals, conduits and whatever else she could get her hands on. It was better this way to leave a path clear to the hangar bay.

As she returned to unlocking the security doors, she heard someone behind her cough and heard the cocking of a rifle to her head.

"Don't move," came the near audio-like voice.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said as she sat there, waiting for the weapon to fire.

It never came.

In an instant, the ship lurched, forcing the Sith soldier to fall away and giving Sirry the time she needed to slide back and withdraw her blaster and fire several times into the soldier; 3 times in the chest, 2 times in the face.

He never even had time to scream as he was sent back, scorched all over.

She looked around making sure that no one else would come in to surprise her. As the door opened, she made her way inside, and the sight before her eyes made her smile a malicious grin.

She walked into an armoury. An armoury littered with energy packs, grenades, mines, even several proton cores.

Leave it to the Sith to let their stuff float around. She carefully planted the explosives and armed the several proton cores as she made her way out, running for the hangar bay. She switched on her stealth belt, camouflaging her, as light shimmered against her.

Jumping across the bodies and ducking into corners, she avoided whatever danger had remained within the vessel. Somehow, the vessel was almost like a tomb. The vessel continued to shake, from the repeated fire it was taking by the Republic group.

This ship is just a time bomb waiting to go up. She continued running as fast as she could, dropping her gear except for her blaster pistol. She jumped into the turbolift, as it closed and took her to the hangar bay level.

All she had to do now was escape and rendezvous with everyone else on the planet and hope that Lon and Simon made their way safely.

As the door opened, she walked outside and found the pristine hangar bay. There sat several sub-orbital shuttles, along with a handful of Sith fighters. She looked around and saw something that once more made her smile.

It sat there, a non-reflective silver, marked with carbon scoring in some parts, with its oblong twin engines, dagger shaped hull. Just above its delta-shaped wings was a name: Vaapad. The vessel was a former Gargoyle-class gunship. Aside from some minor scoring, the vessel was in exceptional shape.

She clambered aboard, hoping that Sekula would enjoy the ship very much when she had it touch down on the planet. Flicking several switches, she cold-started the gunship and removed the landing gear as the repulsorlifts allowed the ship to lift off.

The engines flared to life as the gunship left the hangar, leaving the now battered warship to its fate as it took damage from the cruisers. Several moments after the Vaapad left the warship, the vessel split open in a torrent of flames, becoming a massive fireball, with nothing left. In that instant, most of the Sith fighters stopped firing against the squadrons of Republic fighters, most likely from shock and in disarray at their only hyperspace capable mothership gone.

She found her thoughts turned to Lon and Simon—did they survive the explosion? They had to; after all, they were Jedi. If she survived that, certainly they did too. As she piloted the ship towards the location Dante and Sekula were, she saw fire rip through the area, dousing the target site in flames.