"Creativity represents a miraculous coming together of the uninhibited energy of the child with its apparent opposite and enemy, the sense of order imposed on the disciplined adult intelligence."

(Norman Podhoretz)

"For rarely are sons similar to their fathers: most are worse, and a few are better than their fathers."

(Homer, The Odyssey)

Space.

Upon the black canvas only painted with sparkling stars, Regana floated like an oblivous pearl. A lonely insignificant planet in the far corner of the Galaxy, barely noticeable, barely inhabitable. And yet, for the past month, events that would shape the future for years to come had taken place right there on it's arctic surface. It held a concentration of Force energy unmatched by the Jedi Academy on Yavin 4, and like a well of power every living Jedi in the Galaxy could feel it's surge, like a drawing power beckoning them to come and visit it's inhospitable snowy plains.

But with the rest of the Jedi engaged in training and not ready for the test that awaited them, only two answered the planet's call.

Rishi Kjoil had his cloak wrapped around him for warmth, he felt as though the planet had fingers, reaching out and touching him, it's icy tendrils running over his body. He combated the sensation with the Force, as well as his own logic. But there was a coldness inside of him that could not be sated, a deep lonely hole where regret was fast building itself a nest.

This is where he died, Rishi thought to himself. He was unaware of the events that had led to his Master's demise, but he stared at the planet with such anger and longing that he wished he could rip out the heart of the planet itself and squeeze it to death in his palm. So much anger and hate flowed through him, only building with each minute that he came closer to the planet.

And yet, he felt as if he was standing at the end of a very long road. A road paved by many others, years before he was even born. And now here he was, almost at the end of it, on his way to meet this Kayupa, the man that had most likely killed Master Skar. The clone of Skind Kjoil, the abomination behind all of this insanity. But he was going to end it here, this long overlooked task now had befallen him.

The floor panels beneath him shook vaguely as someone came up and stood beside him. Rishi didn't have to turn his face away from the object of his hate to know that the person next to him was Kal Ulani, Jedi Knight. The Jedi said nothing, only secluded himself in his own cloak, he also felt the same tendrils moving over him.

They both stood on the bridge of the Masumune, one of three Republic-class Star Destroyers in their fleet, led by Admiral Gout Saul. Each with a crew of over eight thousand and able to carry over three thousand soldiers, as well as four squadrons of starfighters, Rishi felt more than enough pressure weighing on his draped shoulders. The Republic-class, for unknown reason, never saw extensive production and as made Rishi wonder why Admiral Saul have been given an entire three.

Shaped much like the more infamous Victory-class, except for two cavities near the stern, they were still an impressive armada, and Rishi felt priviledged to be standing on the bridge, to feel the force pounding through the ship beneath his boots, and the sharp professionalism of every member in the crew. For some who'd spent so much time tending a disdain to the Republic, he had to admit the feeling had wealth in itself.

For the last week they'd been traveling through hyperspace to reach Regana, a long arduous journey that had tested Rishi's very sanity. He'd known before leaving Coruscant behind that his Master had fallen. He'd felt it in the Force. Since their departure he'd thrown himself at various tasks to fill out the hours, to distract his mind from the single fact that surfaced in his mind every waking moment.

Master Skar was dead.

He'd tried decieving himself, telling himself it wasn't possible and that he was misreading the Force, but deep inside he knew it was true. He'd even tried telling himself that he might make it in time to save his Master. That the feeling he felt inside, that horrible dark emptiness, was only a premonition of things he could yet prevent. He knew he was grasping at straws, but sometimes, a lot of times, it was all that kept him from breaking and submitting fully to his anger. He felt like a taut wire; even the slightest of movement would make him snap and lash out.

After a week together, Kal seemed to understand that and spoke only when spoken to. Rishi turned and bowed his head to Kal beneath the cowl of his hood. "Tell me; what do you see? Do you sense anything, Kal?"

The Jedi's eyes tightened, his feelings orientating around the planet drifiting slowly towards them. "Something...a lot of darkness, but also light."

Rishi suppressed a frown, refusing to believe anything good could exist on the same planet that had claimed his Master's life. But Kal was right, nonetheless. "My first impression also...but there's more. Try expanding your awareness. Your mind looks for one thing, but in doing so you leave yourself closed to everything else."

Kal considered that option, and then tried again. Next to him Rishi could feel Kal's awareness widening, turning from one focused beam into a vast umbrella of focus. Rishi complimented the Jedi mentally, linking his mind with Kal.

Together their minds became a single eye that moved across the surface of the planet. While they could not see images, they could sense intentions and feelings, but were unable to link them to a person. They sensed pride and determination, but also deception. Secrets and unveiled agendas. The planet was a maze of dark emotions; animosity and jealousy, hate and lust, revenge and desire.

Rishi began to feel himself suffer from the link, taking every emotion onto himself, finding it far too easy to relate to these sentiments, and decided to pull back his focus.

Kal did the same, but Rishi could tell by his intense breathing he hadn't expected such a powerful effect. Rishi placed a comforting hand on the Jedi's shoulder. "Relax, it will wear off shortly."

Kal settled himself, focusing on the planet once again, this time with a sense of respect in his eyes. "Wow. I've never done that before," he let out a short breath, "and I don't think I ever will do that again." His eyes went to Rishi again. "What about you? It didn't wear you?"

Rishi shook his head slowly beneath the hood. "That planet can't show me anything not already inside of me. Nothing can."

The Jedi's gaze fell upon the floor. "Sorry...I forgot. Jedi aren't used to those emotions, we avoid them."

"I know," Rishi said stiffly.

Kal looked over at his Kjoil companion. "You're lucky."

Rishi snorted. "Lucky?"

Kal nodded. "Yeah, you live without rules, without boundaries. The Jedi are ruled by our dogmas, because they save our souls. We cannot allow darkness, won't allow darkness to be a part of us."

Rishi smirked and looked over at his Jedi accomplice. "And you think of me as lucky because I can feel pain, and anger, and hate?"

Kal realized his failing and quickly looked for another way of putting it. "No...I mean...it's just easier for you to - "

"Believe me," Rishi broke in, "if I could, right now I'd choose your Jedi ways."

Kal didn't understand. "Why? Why live by rules when you're free?"

Rishi hugged himself tightly. "If being free means feeling the way I do inside, no cage could be small enough."

Kal nodded slowly, looking away from his companion. "I understand...I've felt the callings of the Dark Side many times, too many times. If it was my Master that had died here, they never would have let me go. They would say I was seeking revenge, a sure path onto the Dark Side."

Rishi shivered, his heart starting to feel pinced. "Dark Side, Light Side...they're the same to me. There's little difference. The Dark Side just seems most useful, it's quicker, faster and stronger. It's rare I find myself looking to compassion to solve a problem. Nevertheless, I am often overcome with compassion when looking at the world. But my compassion always leads me to use the Dark Side to be compassionate on a wider scale." He thought his words through. "Does that...makes any sense to you?"

Kal nodded. "It does. I can't say I live the same way, but I understand your point of view." His eyes narrowed. "Yet I can't seem to find any compassion in your coming here."

Rishi's insides coiled again. "Because there is none."

"Is it revenge? A search for answers?"

Rishi realized he couldn't really be sure. Maybe it was both. Certainly, it was both. What he hoped to achieve on a greater scale eluded him. It was a personal journey, a dangerous one, one even his Master would have frowned upon. But he felt justified coming here, it was the only place he should be. He had to see it for himself, he had to know what had happened, and if he could he would take with him every last soul that had contributed to his Master's death.

Kal shuddered by his side, and started to take distance to the Kjoil apprentice. "Your feelings affect me, Rishi."

Rishi realized his fault and calmed his mind. "I'm sorry, Kal. I'll be more careful. It's just...you must have felt this too, when your Master died. You may have turned away from it, whereas I dive into it willingly."

Kal looked sad at the mention of his own Master. "I can't see what good it does you."

Rishi shrugged. "You're right. But therein lies the difference between you and me; I haven't been taught control so I don't shy away from it. The Dark Side is inside of me, and it's going to make it's presence known once we reach the surface."

Kal kept his position slightly away from Rishi. "You think there's any hope he's..."

"Still alive?" Rishi shook his head. "Not a chance. But that doesn't mean my loyalty to him has ended."

Kal squinted his eyes, gazing at the omnious orb starting to fill most of their viewscreen. "Meaning?"

Rishi smiled, and this time not of vengance or a promise of evil to be unfolded. But a smile of love and reverence. "He may be dead, but his body doesn't belong on this world. I'm not here to save him, Kal. I'm just here to take him back home."

I never had the chance to apologize for my idiocy, for my betrayal. It's the least I can do for him.

Rishi caved on the inside and turned away from the viewscreen and marched across the bridge, happy knowing the hood kept his tears hidden from the many technicians working in the pits below.

It's not even the least I can do. It's all I can do.

Unlike most commanders or captains, Admiral Gout Saul stayed far away from the bridge. He was a quiet but speculative type, not the kind to wear his rank on the outside, but a man known for his patience and overbearing nature. By Rishi's estimate the man had not seen enough battle yet to harden him, although he was spoken of as a great legend among Republic high class, Rishi suspected the rank and honor he'd acheived had been come from the traces of a diplomat in him, that he'd stopped fighting by simply being a man who understood psychology. Rishi had been wary of the man at first, but had grown to like him during their travel to Regana.

He liked him even though Master Skar had met him and placed a taint of distrust in the man, a feeling emanating in the Force, left behind like a mark for other Force sentients to pick up on.

It had been Gout Saul's face that had been there when Rishi had awoken from his second encounter with Boba Fett inside the Bothan's hideout, explaining to him the current situation on Regana. Informing him that the commandos had failed and had been captured and that the only other solution was to send in a fleet to handle the siege.

Kal had been the one that had dragged Rishi to a medical station, heard about the situation from Master Skywalker who instantly engineered another oppertunity for a Kjoil to journey to Regana.

Gout Saul had accepted willingly, almost too willingly for Luke's taste, but Rishi pounced on the chance to go to Regana, to find his answers, and maybe take this Kayupa down once and for all. To fulfill his Master's unsolved issues. Since he'd never finished his training, he believed that tying up the loose ends would make his Master proud, and he could move on, with resolution finally settled in his heart. Kal had volunteered to come along, by Luke's suggestion.

Rishi entered the Admiral's private quarters, a humble two-roomed apartment situated among the living quarters of the crew and soldiers also onboard. The apartment was no different from any other chamber onboard the Masamune, same blank walls and modest furniture. It raised Rishi's opinion of the man, that he wasn't caught up in the prestige his title granted him, that he didn't elevate himself higher than those assigned to his fleet.

The Admiral looked up as Rishi came in, made a sincere smile and put away the datapad he was reading. His hands touched the opposite ends of the small desk and motioned with his head for Rishi to take a seat across from him.

Rishi slid into the small chair uneasily, letting his limbs stretch and exhaling a heavy sigh.

"I suppose," the Admiral leaned back in his seat, interlocking his fingers, "seeing the planet itself was harder than you first imagined."

During their travel Rishi had shared many of his thoughts and feelings about the mission with Gout Saul, and although he didn't consider the man a friend, he did think of him as a confidant. Rishi nodded slightly, his face still obscured by the rim of the hood. "No."

Saul's eyes widened. "No?"

Rishi didn't know how to explain it. "I knew what I was going to see, I've seen it in my dreams for the last week." His voice hardened. "But feeling it...I wasn't ready for that."

"The feeling." The Admiral leaned slightly forward. "Tell me about it. Is it a darkness you sense?"

Rishi's eyes came up, fast but solid as rock. "That's just it. There is darkness, great darkness. But also light, pure unrestrained light. And not only that," he pulled in breath, "I feel stronger."

Saul looked confused. "Stronger?"

Rishi's eyes went to one of the small viewports in Saul's chamber, seeing the stars drift by outside. "I feel...like an old knot has finally been undone. A veil lifted. I've never...felt so," he searched for the right words, "unrestrained...raw."

Saul's expression changed into concern. "And what does this mean exactly?"

Rishi shook his head. "I don't know...maybe I will once I get groundside. I feel like the Force itself has amassed here on Regana, all of its energy directed towards this one planet."

Saul, like so many others doubtful about the Jedi and the Force, could only produce a worried smile. "It all sounds very disturbing."

Rishi smiled grimly, he liked being mysterious and misunderstood. It gave him a level of power being a mystery. "And yet, for the first time in a long time, there is no disturbance."

Saul looked uncomforted. "I will leave this matter entirely to you," he rose from his seating and activated a switch on his desk. "It is your arena, and it's time I saw to mine."

The switch activated a holographic projector in the ceiling above his desk. Soon the air became bright blue, computerized lines and shapes starting to morph into a richly detailed image. A minimized version of Regana painted in bluish and white swirled on its axis before Rishi's eyes.

"Since the Sons of Destiny relayed their declaration of occupation, little has happened in the ways of communicating with the group. As we've feared, it seems even more evident now that the terrorist faction is not interesting in negotiating with the Republic, they have made no demands, no specification of intent. They've simply...taken Hope's Haven for their own."

Rishi stared at the little hologram rotating before him, reading the data streams flowing beside it. "Their intent remains hidden. Even if the planet itself holds something of value to them, their lack of communication has worked against them. If they'd made up some bogus demands, the Republic wouldn't have at the rate and force they have."

"You'll make a fine terrorist someday," Saul smiled with obvious sarcasm, but his serious face soon returned. "Why they chose this planet for a siege is beyond me. It's too remote for any strategic advantage," the Admiral looked worried, his right hand rubbing his chin, "I can't help but feel we're walking right into a trap."

Rishi remained unmoved. "That's the way the Republic wants it. They want their repair yard back, willing to sacrifice whatever it takes." His jaw tightened. "Or whoever." He blinked and exhaled. "It's the only way we can find out what's really going on down there. Sometimes the only way to evade a trap is to take a long good look at it."

"So it would seem." The Admiral hugged himself. "You're not afraid?"

Rishi smirked. "Afraid? Admiral, I wanted to be here."

Saul stood unchanged. "That doesn't really contradict my point."

Rishi's eyes finally moved away from the hologram. "Fear gets me nowhere. It is a useless emotion. I am here because I want to see it, I want to know."

Saul walked to the other side of his desk. "Fear breeds calculation, consideration. The enigma surrounding this ghost army, this pointless occupation and the death of your Master, it does not stir your confidence?"

Rishi checked himself, letting the flow of the Force reveal his inner thoughts and unanswered questions. He found no fear, only a curiosity that clung tightly to a desire for revenge and redemption. He supposed he should be afraid by all reason, whatever had claimed his Master's life had to be a powerful entity, and sensing the darkness that shrouded the planet he knew he was in for a challenge.

But he remained undaunted. Maybe it was the presence of a Force in perfect equilibrium, a sensation that left him feeling invulnurable, which rendered all fear into vapor. He felt ready for anything.

Leaving the question unanswered, the Kjoil changed his position in the seat, leaning forward to study the hologram more closely. The closer the Masamune approached Regana, more details came into view. Three small space stations, the size of an average city, were sketched in with the planet's image, their blue and white shape in a slow orbit parallel to the groundside repair yard's location.

More data typed itself and one of the space stations was magnified beside the planet, showing the station in elaborate detail.

Saul read the information. "Stations are powered down significantly, leaving only enough for the stations to remain on their programmed orbit. No defenses, no ships, no living signatues onboard. They're dead in space. Guess the terrorists didn't need them."

Rishi frowned and turned his attention back to the planet. "Can you get in tighter on the repair yard?"

The hologram dissolved into a thousand small flecks of blue light, swirling once around an unseen center before massing again to create a small stetch of landscape, the flat terrain rising in several areas to construct buildings, erecting a small city in a span of seconds. The main building was finished last, several of the specks used to create the terrain switched position to capture the main building in all its detail.

Rishi's eyes went wide at the sight of several downed buildings.

Saul also leaned in closer. "Interesting."

"There's been a struggle, fighting."

Saul increased the zoom function on one of the wrecked buildings. "Explosives didn't do this. Otherwise I would have said that Dragon's Tooth made it further than we expected."

Rishi looked at the Admiral through the hologram. "The Dragon's Tooth?"

"The team of commandos that went in with your Master, a group of seven commandos. They could be responsible for this, but..." he shook his head. "There's so sign of an explosion or external damage. That building was lifted from the ground and thrown back down."

Rishi examined the structure again, and found nothing to contradict the Admiral's solution. But lifting an entire building, if not by the Force, demanded some serious mechanical support. He'd never seen it done, but he'd visisted some of the large construction droids on Coruscant, immense giant robots that could redesign a building within days. But none of those were in sight.

"A Jedi did it."

Saul nodded. "So it would seem." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Strange indeed. Look at it. You'd never think there was an army in there. All the ships are torn apart and the place itself is severly wrecked." He scratched his chin. "It looks the way we probably would have left it, a deserted battle zone. A cemetary."

Rishi agreed, and couldn't combat the hollow feeling inside of him. The repair yard looked dead, a ghost city devoid of light or motion. But nevertheless he knew there were still people down there, lurking in those dark corridors. People he couldn't wait to meet.

"So, how are we going to play this?"

Saul activated another switch and the projector displayed the terrain outside the repair yard, showing only a few buildings to the far left. "Within the next hour the Masamune will set down on the planet's surface, while the Ronin and the Infinity will remain in orbit. Our ground attack vehicles will be deployed here," he stabbed a finger into the hologram, "on this ridge. Seven thousand troops will join them, as well as a solid full wing of snowspeeders. The snowspeeders will perform a reconnaisance run of the station, testing it's defenses so to speak, see if we can draw any reactions from them. If they do, the ground forces will march upon the station and add support."

Rishi nodded. "And if they don't react?"

"Well, that's what we're hoping they'll do. Five gunships carrying five of our best special forces teams will approach the station, dock on its landing pads and take the station in close-range combat and secure the hostages."

Rishi found the plan weak at best, but they were working on possibilities and maybes. With no sure way of finding out what the terrorists had in terms of armament and defenses, their best option was to show their own force and come knocking on the front door.

"Where will I be?"

Saul punched another switch, bringing up a cross-section schematic of one of their gunships. "Gunship Four will be your way inside the station. Ulani will be on a separate gunship. Each of you will lead separate teams of commandos inside different parts of the station and capture it one structure at a time."

That idea Rishi liked, starting to feel his chest pound with excitement. "Good. Will you be commanding the army?"

Saul nodded. "Yes, from the bridge."

Rishi's head came up. "You're staying on the Masamune?"

"It's safest for all," he said.

Rishi tilted his head and made a mischievious smile. "Safest for you? Afraid to get your hands dirty, Admiral?"

Saul sighed. "Rishi, please realize, this could be a great trap. In case the army fails, in case the gunships and you fail, there is no option left than a bombardment from orbit." He held up a hand. "I know there are hostages down there, Rishi, I'm only acting on orders."

Rishi frowned. "You're an Admiral."

He shook his head. "I'm a just a playing piece. My only consolation is that, unlike a pawn, I do still command some pieces of my own." He leaned in over the desk, his face caught in the blue hologram. "This is why I wanted you along, Rishi, as well as the other Jedi. This assignement has dung written all over it. I need someone like you, someone more than a soldier, someone better than a commando, to make this succesful."

He was speaking right to Rishi's soul, such words of praise rare in his life. His Master had never condoned of his actions or his way, neither had the Senate. As such he doubted himself and his choices, since he didn't have a seal of approval from even his own Master. To hear the words from Admiral Saul warmed his heart, made him feel capable and important. Rishi could almost see himself winning the day on Regana, defeating the terrorists singlehandely and becoming a great hero, instead of an infamous rogue.

He could almost hear the cheering.

He smiled firmly. "I won't let you down, Admiral."

To some the Force was a thing of eternal wonder, a mystery never truly revealed. Some could spend lifetimes studying it, mastering it as they claimed, and never come close to understand the simplicity of it. Where most failed was in their desire to obtain a vision of the Force that was special, undiscovered, always searching for a truth that no one else had found. They did not understand that the Force wasn't a mystery, wasn't the great enigma behind the curtains of this world. It was a path, a very simple and easy path, but only if one learned to listen from a point of surrender, and not desire.

The most obvious answer is often the right one.

Jedi Master Raine was a very good listener; he'd learned decades ago in the Jedi Temple, that the Force was not a tool but a voice. It was the certainty that separated good from evil, unveiled any cloud that might cause one to mistrust their own judgement. It was the final say on right and wrong. Some were good at listening, but hadn't learned to trust the Force's simple answers, they tended to doubt it, or themselves based on what the Force seemed to ask of them.

Understanding that the Force was without limits was a lesson many tended to misinterpret. And more othen than not it was this prospect that led to corruption, the notion that one could do anything.

The Force did offer this choice, it's possibilities were never denied to anyone who mastered the art of manipulating it's energy. Any Jedi was free to choose to abuse it's reservoir of power, or to simply do it's bidding. Not many were able to restrain themselves from turning to abuse, which led to the Dark Side. Few understood what it meant to be a Jedi, to be a servant of justice and truth, to believe the Force's will was paramount.

Personal feelings or ideals were often the shatterpoints of a true Jedi, like those in the Sons of Destiny who manipulated the Force to enforce their own vision of justice and truth. Why the Force had chosen him to help them was a great puzzlement to him, why he had been told to help these obviously evil-doers, these fanatics, and, in some cases, psychopaths.

There were traces of good in all of them, but it was misguided good. General Riokon and his wife acted on a desire to wipe the slate clean for the Galaxy, to clear away any remnants of a past sure to repeat itself in the New Republic.

He had little theories, small angles that he kept locked inside of himself, that maybe he was the one who would stop their crusade, altough he was sworn in as a Son. He agreed with the notion that the Republic of today was ineffective, but firmly disbelieved slaughtering billions of people was needed to acheive such a template for a better society. Yet it seemed the Force was not ready to contradict that vision.

At least not yet.

The future confused him, it's path becoming more and more unclear. Two months earlier the Force was a straight line, one pure and without divergence, the same path he'd always walked. But since the appearance of the Kjoil clone, his escape and defeat, many things had changed. The Force had been enforced since his demise, but there was no clear path anymore. Raine had never felt so lost, never so betrayed and unsure. It seemed the path of him that he'd always followed had suddenly to come to an end, a ledge beyond which lied only darkness.

This is where mistakes are made, he thought to himself, I've lost sight of my path. Anything could be a mistake.

Something had happened in the course of fate, the future once so clear had been severed from the present and the very Galaxy hung in the balance. Things were changing, something was happening by which even the Force could not ascertain the repercussions. Destiny was being altered and the fate of all was adapting. Jedi Master Raine was humble by nature, by his service to the Force, but without the guidance of the Force he was an empty vessel, a stray soul.

And for the first time, he was afraid.

The others didn't listen to the Force, they only pulled power from it, and as such they did not share his worry and loss of way. A reckless bunch they were, none of them truly understanding the ways of the Force as he did. They were selfish and idealistic, and worst of all; powerful. They in truth had the power to see their dark wills through, to make it a reality and the Force did nothing to stop them. How could it be? What was the Force trying to tell him?

All of them had given themselves to the Dark Side at some point, knowing it was a greater power, learning to use both sides of the Force to make themselves invincible. But they were able to dispel their dark emotions, none of them hungered for power or were blindly seduced by their emotions, judging by their own actions and words. They were patience itself. They only wanted to enforce what they believed to be a brighter future for the Galaxy.

And the Force had never once labeled them as an enemy. Could they truly be described as evil? Or was he a ghost of an older generation, too restricted by the tradition and views of old? Was he the stray, the blind? More and more he doubted himself. A lifetime ago he had been just a youngling training at the Jedi Temple, receiving instructions from Master Yoda himself. Many had regarded Yoda as a living embodiment of the Force, the wisest and strongest of them all, a clear symbol of how great power and responsiblity could come from the smallest of creatures.

But Jedi teachings had evolved greatly through the years of the Jedi Knights, many new discoveries had changed their evolution. Maybe now was such a time? Maybe now called for another way of thinking, the clean slate that the Sons of Destiny strived for. And if such was the Force's will he would follow it, albeit with a great worry in his old heart.

The last time the ways of the Force had to be reassessed, Darth Vader and the Emperor had all but wiped out every single Jedi in the Galaxy, and billions of lives were lost in the Clone Wars and the following civil war. He realized then he was still living by the dogma of old, the way the Jedi Knights in the Old Republic had firmly followed, one proven to be too narrow-minded and easily clouded.

If two Sith Lords could wipe out the Jedi and take control of the Galaxy, without ever a Jedi detecting the threat before it was too late, clearly it seemed the Force intended for it to happen, for reasons unknown.

He'd accepted the tragedy then, but he feared he would have to do it again. Such was his role as a servant, not to ask questions, only to obey. Only to trust. But with the voice in his heart gone, he felt blind and lost. And now was not a time where he could stand by and observe silently.

Now is a time of war.

Jedi Master Raine used the Force to open the doors before him and his body moved with the slowness age had bestowed upon him over the years. He'd supplemented the weakness with a cane, instead of restoring his body's natural energy with the Force. He knew many viewed him as a bothersome old weakling, a ghost looking for a place to die.

But the Force, as fading as it had become, was still vibrant in his old bones. He knew his strength laid in his understanding and loyalty to the Force, and as such did not fear death. When the time was right, once his service was complete, he would transform into the Force without regret.

Beyond the doors, at the ground level of the largest structure, was the grandest of Hope's Haven's hangars, filled to the brim with the last of their soldiers, those not killed by the escaped prisoner. He came to a halt, supporting his body with one hand against the railing of the half circled dais. Though his height did not allove him to look over the railing, instead he regarded the soldiers on the hangar floor below through the middle of its rungs.

He released a sigh, one coming from more than just fatigue, one brought on by all the worries in his small body. And as of lately, it still did not remove the tension he felt in every fiber of his being. The idea of having an army at his disposal had never meant anything to him. It was not a comfort or a strength to him, armies did not signify power.

The ability to create war was not a greatness. It always brought a sadness to his heart, to know these loyal soldiers existed only to fight and die, caught in a scheme they could never never see the way he could. They were pieces in a puzzle, a puzzle that no one knew what looked like finished.

"Even without your leash - "

Raine turned around faster than anyone would have guessed his old body was capable of, his green lightsaber ignited in a flash, aimed at the throat of the one who'd snuck up behind him.

" - you are still a slave," Eknath finished.

Raine's face became a snarl, infuriated by Eknath's love for invading private moments, and private thoughts. Among them all he disliked the telepath the most, for his reckless and brutal behaviour, for all his gloating and infatuation with himself, for all the pure dark evil inside of him that the Force had never once asked Raine to destroy.

Raine lowered his saber, wary of its pitched hum. He could feel some of the soldiers beneath the dais reacting to the scene. "Master Eknath," he said as respectfully as he could manage, pushing aside his deep loathing of the perverse genius.

For that he was, a Master beyond doubt. And Raine considered it a cruel fate that such power had been bestowed upon one so dark. He knew that Eknath had once been a Jedi Master before the Clone Wars, just as Raine himself had been, yet their paths had never crossed. In the good moments they'd shared, although rare, they had shared many stories and comparisons about the old Jedi Temple and it's inhabitants. Both of them had admitted to once have stood before Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and not sensed anything out of place.

Raine turned back to the railing, and Eknath moved to stand beside him, his spidery hands hidden inside the sleeves of his gray robe, a devious smile on his lips as he looked across the sea of soldiers beneath them. He chuckled to himself, bristling with dark joy at the many souls he could manipulate, his scarred face beaming with excitement.

Raine always felt hazy around Master Eknath, his darkness so powerful it sent black sickening waves through the small Jedi Master. "A slave does not choose the leash or his master, Prophet," Raine said out the corner of mouth. "And only a fool fears blindness, when all his days are filled with darkness."

Eknath's joy was undiminished. "I see you remain a master of wits, even though the Force has left you astray."

Raine shook his head slowly. "Those who are led astray, are those who don't see the signs right in front of them. And even this sign I will decipher with time."

Eknath's face soured, and those black scars across his face seemed to darken. "To discover truth is an individual journey, and it demands choice."

Raine couldn't help bring out a small smile. Eknath's attempt to out-philosophize him always came off weak, and only reinforced Raine's belief that beneath all Eknath's strength and bravado was a small child that desired greatly to admired for his wisdom. Depriving him of that was one of Raine's greatest joys. "I choose to wait for truth."

The man's face darkened even more, clearly annoyed he couldn't break Raine's spirit. "Truth does not linger - "

"Tell me," Raine said, confident that his victory was already won, "what really happened to Joon, Master Eknath?"

The telepath's face turned away with great fury, his jaw clenching, knowing he'd lost. Eknath held up his right palm, stared into it and flexed his fingers. "When the ysalamiri cages were raised, the Force-bubble released Joon of my mind-control. He attacked me, but without the Force he was still just a fifteen year old boy. But he wouldn't stop," Eknath's voice became very grim, almost sad, "he just wouldn't stop thrashing. I clawed out his eyes to save myself, and sealed up the wound with the lightsaber once the Force was restored."

Raine had suspected that incident had been less controlled than Eknath had first implied. Sensing Joon's spirit in the Force was that of a very conflicted individual, beneath all Eknath's control. "Interesting, his first reflex was to kill you."

Eknath shrugged indifferently. "Don't pretend to be surprised. I wasn't."

Raine looked up at him. "You're not even sad that he hated you? That he hates you?"

Eknath's eyes seemed distant, devoid of presence. "He is not an apprentice in the traditional senses, the kinds we all trained in the Old Republic. We're at war now, we need soldiers, bodyguards, tools that we can manipulate. We don't have time for attachment. We have a responsibility to the world, that is our heritage, and the Galaxy's restored peace will be our legacy." He blinked and the old Eknath was back, dark and sinister. "Don't tell me, my little Jedi friend, that your apprentice is any different?"

Raine thought of Ragh, a dumb beast as far as others were concerned. Once, while in service to the Republic, Raine had been sent on a peace mission to the Caludaa system. A hundred year peace between two co-existing races had turned into war and Raine was the Jedi the Council had sent to mediate.

He managed to forge peace between the two races again, but not without having to fight for it. He'd befriended and saved the life of Ragh, part of a large beast-like but sentient race. Caludaans resembled the Wookies on Kashyyyk more than any other race, they believed in life-debts and Ragh had proudly accepted to become Raine's bodyguard.

Ragh was not the dumb beast everyone suspected, but neither was he intelligent on a human level. Raine considered him a loyal friend, a son even, and he'd trained the creature to understand certain aspects of the Force. When Raine had escaped the Jedi Purge he'd secluded himself in exile on Caludaa, waiting for the Force to guide him again. When Riokon and his ships arrived to Caludaa, it had been Eknath that had brought them there to find him. Raine had rode out to meet them on Ragh's back.

Always keeping his eyes on the future, ever wary of things to come, the first thing he'd said was; what took you so long?

Raine smiled at the memory, remembering the history between him and Ragh. Ragh was a fond companion, the closest thing he would ever have to a son. And it was all he needed beside the Force. Ragh had given himself to a life of service, just as Raine had. Together they lived to serve the same thing; loyalty to something greater than themselves. The others could frown at his choice of apprentice all they wanted, he knew the soft humble kind nature that was Ragh's soul.

"Don't bother yourself with Ragh, Master Eknath," Raine said slyly, touching a side of himself he rarely showed, "people who do usually end up dead."

Eknath's eyes tightened but he pressed the subject no futher. "Finality and Gravity; an awesome match."

Raine frowned on the inside. "Any report on the Republic fleet?"

Eknath's eyes sparkled, untarnished evil pouring from his smile. "One of the SDs is approaching the atmosphere. Seems it will be a surface attack, after all."

Raine had always known very little of Riokon's grand plan in itself, Riokon kept the details to himself and his wife, sharing only that which could not be comprimised. When they'd last conferred, Riokon had ordered them to go to the highest peak of the station once the Republic armada had touched ground, but for reasons unknown.

And Raine needed no explanation, he didn't need to know the finner details of the plot. He listened to a higher duty. If Riokon told him to go to the top of the control center and the Force didn't warn him of any danger, that's where he'd be.

"Does it ever occur to you," Eknath spoke slow and deep, "that our fearless leader...is not quite so fearless?"

Raine sensed a plot, a trick in Eknath's words. "Riokon is a strong man, a wise man, a powerful Jedi."

Eknath nodded slightly. "He was powerful, but he is broken."

Raine looked up at the taller Eknath.

"You saw it too. He hid it well, but you must have sensed it. His encounter with the escaped prisoner left him humbled, afraid," Eknath's lips curled in disgust, "weak."

Raine admitted that. For all the times he'd heard Riokon speak of facing his former Master, he understood that the General was dissapointed he had not only lost the battle, but also been stripped of a rematch. Young Krych had been the one to that vanquished the clone, an unexpected turn of events but perhaps for the better.

But Eknath's way of describing Koll and his nature startled Raine. For all the time he'd spent within the Sons of Destiny, despite their intentions and alligiance to the Dark Side, he had begun to care for most of them. Espicially Koll and his wife, as well as the young Krych. And over time they had become the family that Koll had wanted the army to be. They were brothers, sons, fathers and mothers.

At Junn's departure from the army and subsequent exile, she had made the first fracture in their ranks, showing their unit was not as invulnurable as they'd thought. Krych's injury and Sonnet's mysterious death had also left gaps. The family was falling apart; there was mistrust, lies, and deceit.

No one knew where Koll and Sasa were hiding but they hadn't showed for a long time. And with the unit's unraveling Raine began to feel unsafe. It was hard for him to see it all fall apart around him.

Raine felt dishonest. "As I told you before, everyone fails at some point. At his heart, Koll means well. A humbled man is a careful man."

Eknath smirked. "Planetary obliteration...doesn't require much care," he chuckled menacingly and started to walk from one side of the dais to the other. "Soon Coruscant will be another dead moon, another ash-strewn warzone. The beginning and the end."

Raine let the words pass over him, not giving them enough attention so that they might provoke images in his head. How Riokon planned to destroy Coruscant was another part of the plan that was confidential. And that bothered Raine not at all.

He shook his head, realizing he'd been staring at nothing ever since Eknath had joined him. The army still stood splayed out before him, perfect rows of black polished armor, weapons at the ready, all of them waiting to fight. He could smell the excitement off them, feel the snakes coiling in the stormachs of some, taste the impatience of others.

And for the first time it provoked a smile from his lips. A time long ago he'd stood before the very same army and felt fear for the Republic's ability to combat the Sons of Destiny. But not any more. He smiled because more than half of the twenty-thousand soldiers he'd seen back then weren't present now. He had the dead clone to thank for that.

Pain.

The pain was like a million spears stabbing through every part of his body. He could hear it even, like the searing sound of burning flesh, constantly repeating itself in his ears. He couldn't be sure if he was alive, yet he had conciousness. He could think. But he couldn't think clearly. Pain was pulling at his every thought, always leading his mind away from a conclusion that would explain what had happened to him.

He remembered fire.

He remembered hearing the vhroniks howling.

He remembered -

- the prisoner. The Dark Jedi that had fought him outside in the snow. His mind filled with anger and hatred and he lashed out into the liquid nothingness that surrounded him. He was caged and trapped and he wanted to be free. He had to save Junn, she was still alive, he'd felt it. He had to save her.

Release me!

He screamed, but he wasn't sure he was vocalizing the sound.

Set me free!

No answer came, only more pain. Terrifying pain. But he bit it down. Junn needed him. He tried to remember how he opened his eyes, such a simple unconcious act seemed impossible. All he could see was darkness and a flimsy image of Junn's body lying in the midst of fires.

SOMEONE HELP ME!

He thrashed about in his weak state, fighting to sever himself from this blackness that had swallowed him. And then some light. A small light growing before his eyes. Slowly his eyes opened and he stared into a waving, unsolidified image of a droid standing before him, a medical droid, the kind with a face that distubingly reminded of a human porcelain doll.

His skin slowly felt the liquid that covered him, felt the breathing apperatus stuffed into his throat, making him want to puke. He was trapped in bacta, a gelatinous liquid that healed wounds, commonly used everywhere in the Galaxy.

Once his arms started to respond as they once did, he slammed his fists against the glass, screaming with all his soul.

The droid outside was talking, he could see that much but he couldn't hear it. He didn't care. He didn't care about his own health. He just wanted to be free, free so he could find Junn. He knew where she was, he knew she was in danger. He was the only one who could help her.

The glass finally buckled and a spiderweb pattern of cracks began to form outward from where his fists landed. Finally the glass broke, spewing bacta on the droid and the floor in front of the cylinder. The rest of the glass shattered and Krych tore the apperatus from his mouth and once enough bacta had left the cylinder for his feet to touch the floor, he stepped outside of it.

The droid instantly protested. "Sir, your wounds are not healed - "

He wouldn't hear it. He punched the droid aside with all his anger, smashing it against the wall. He took another step, but his feet slipped and his body slammed down into the bacta-covered floor.

He cried out in pain, pieces of glass cutting through every corner of his body, but the pain wouldn't die. He bit his jaws together and placed his hands on the floor at his sides and started to push himself up, screaming in agony all the way.

And then he saw it.

His reflection in the bacta on the silvery floor. A face deeply scared beyond human features. It was a miracle, or a grotesque insult of fate, that he was still alive. A sickening face that stood out from the rest of his pale skin, with flesh as yellow and purple as the horizon of a setting sun. A face bulging with deep sores, pieces of ash dropping from his jaws as his mouth trembled.

In several places the face had been sown together crudely, deviding the face into four pieces of dead scorched flesh. The lips were gone, the nose devoid of flesh enough that bone could almost been seen. The eyes, although the eyelids themselves were gone, remained the only features that still appeared intact, stared back at himself with absolute terror.

He scared himself to death.

Bile filled his throat and puking his guts out on the floor, covering that hidious image, was all that saved his sanity.

Once the Masamune started piercing through the outer layers of Regana's atmosphere, Rishi left the Admiral to his planning and went looking for Kal. Through the Force he learned the young man was back in their chambers. Strodding through the halls of the ship he passed many officers and technicians, all of them crisp and perfect in their uniforms. He realized how much he must have stood out, wearing his black cloak and moving through the halls like a mirror image of the late Darth Vader.

Many stood aside or changed their stride once they saw him, and the realization of this always brought a dark smile to his lips. He liked knowing others didn't know what to make of him, even feared him. It gave him a sense of control, to know he already struck fear in the hearts of others by pure appearance. It was the most subtle of powers and the easiest to master.

Every soul he passed turned into lines in the Force, links between them and other parties that would hear the story about him wandering like a ghost through the ship. An endless flood of information would move through the ship faster than electricity and soon all would know about him. And although it fed his ego, his confidence, his recent discoveries changed the face of that power.

Rarsk Dokyan had changed his life.

He'd always harbored thoughts and doubts about the Republic's ability to govern correctly, often feeling they turned a blind eye to many of the obvious problems right in front of them. If it was inability to change things or simply ignorance, he couldn't really discern. All he knew, all he'd always known in his guts, was that something wasn't functioning the way it should.

Rarsk Dokyan had showed him why.

An unrest coiled in his belly, a pulling tension. Who could he trust? Could he trust anyone? Who hadn't been affected by the Sons of Destiny? Who was outside their reach? Was he going to destroy their corruption or was he already a part of it? He couldn't know for certain he wasn't acting on their will already, that maybe all of the events unfolding around him had been planned for some design he couldn't yet fathom.

It was there, in the eyes of every being he passed. Every gaze looked mischivous to him, every person seemed to stare too long, or look away too fast. Everyone was a suspect. He wanted to trust the Force, but the Force had betrayed him before. It hadn't shown him the deception.

Or maybe...maybe the Force had shown him the deception now so he could end it. It was all he could believe. Impatience wouldn't benifit his mission, and it would only weaken his connection to the Force. He had to trust the Force would not betray him, and chose to believe that the Force had waited for him to be ready for this challenge before revealing the deception. The logic was frail, but it gave him some reassurance and some feeling of pride.

The doors to his living quarters opened and Rishi stepped inside, casting one quick glance over his shoulder just before the doors closed, checking to see if anyone was watching him go in, to see maybe the top of a head behind a corner going into cover as he faced them. He saw nothing out of the ordinary before the doors sealed behind him.

You're being paranoid, he told himself, not everyone is being used or a traitor.

He turned his eyes forward to see Kal meditating on the floor in the center of a circular depression of the room, one they'd used for sparing occasionally. The training ring they'd dubbed it. Kal sat in a perfect posture, feet folded inwards, his fingers shaped like a triangle at his waist, breathing in perfect rhythm.

Rishi felt bad about intruding on Kal's meditation, until he remembered the fact that if the man was meditating it meant he already knew Rishi was there. Neither Rishi nor Master Skar had cared much for meditating. Master Skar had always insisted that he learned nothing through meditation, that it didn't ease his mind or expand on his knowledge of the Force. All he got was a steady feeling of peace that only lasted for as long as he was under.

All Rishi ever got from meditation was a sore forehead, when he fell asleep and usually banged his head on the nearest table.

Rishi hugged himself and waited patiently for Kal to return to the world of the living and breathing. Through their time together, their adventures on Coruscant, they'd slowly become friends. And although they didn't talk about it, Rishi had found his first apprentice in the young Ulani. Rishi knew he couldn't teach Kal everything, and Kal's training was already so lacking that it was an uphill battle, but with every five failures there was one victory.

Kal was rash, arrogant, easily offended, but still eager for knowledge as long as it fit his assumptions about the Force. Rishi also knew that he was afraid some of his Kjoil techniques and methods would rub off on young Kal, perhaps driving him closer to the Dark Side. But Rishi liked the idea of advancing his own knowledge, and to help someone he considered a friend to find peace in a world that offered none.

Rishi stretched out with his mind and touched Kal's. There were images, faint and flickering. Painful memories that repeated themselves, connecting with Kal's own internal monologue, his mind fighting to prove a point to a side of himself that turned to self-deprevation too easily. Kal was thinking about his former Master, a Master whom had died not too long ago.

The two of them couldn't have been a better match, Rishi thought. Both of them had sorrow close to their hearts and both of them were looking for ways to grow and to find a path. When he'd first met Kal he'd instantly disliked him, but through their time together he'd come to realize how closely they resembled each other.

Which put his previous dislike in a rather sad light; meeting someone just like himself and he'd immediately disliked him? Rishi supposed meeting himself was a quick lesson in fixing himself.

He could feel Kal blaming himself, and although Rishi didn't know the details of the Master's death he knew such feelings were easy to provoke once you were already there. He reached out and soothed Kal's mind.

Do not center on the past, Kal, and do not worry about the future. All you have is the moment. It is only now that you can change anything, it is only now that you can make a difference. Learn from your mistakes, but don't beat them to death.

Kal's eyes opened slowly and met Rishi's across the room.

Put aside your thoughts, and learn to feel. Learn to trust what the Force tells you, learn to trust the events it shows you. Don't calculate, don't speculate, feel. Listen to the voice inside your heart, it cannot betray you.

Kal slowly rose from his seating and unclipped his lightsaber, preparing to train with Rishi. Rishi brought his lightsaber forth too, and took the first steps down into the training ring.

"Do not strategize, do not think ahead. Do nothing besides giving yourself to the moment and let the Force guide your hands," Rishi's lightsaber snapped to life with its throbbing hum and blue glow, "let yourself become one with it. You and your lightsaber are not removed from each other, it is not a weapon in your hands. It is an extension of yourself."

Kal's lightsaber also shimmered to life in mid-swirl, instantly in a defensive stance. His eyes showed confidence and strength, but no will, which was good. No battle, in practice or otherwise, should be fought from the soul. Combat to a Jedi, when inevitable, should never come from a will, but from the Force.

Kal stood poised for combat, but it was the Force that governed his moves, and not himself. Rishi reached Kal's level in the ring and set himself. Kal bowed his head slightly, his eyes never leaving Rishi who copied the gesture.

Like two currents of power, two powerful waves of water, they crashed against each other in an instant and chaotic flurry of lightsaber combat. They were equal, but their powers came from two distinct different areas of the Force. Kal was strong and fast, but Rishi was sly in his fighting style. He fought with a desire to surprise, to trick. He used many feints and subtle moves which could be easily changed into a dangerous strike if the chance revealed itself.

"The will of the Force is not a carefully laid plan," Rishi explained as they fought, "it is the sense and logic in ourselves that create an awareness in which the Force responds to us."

Together they danced to a song-less rhythm, their swords spinning and thrashing in what might have seemed chaotic and improvised to the outside viewer. Rishi surrendered fully to the Force and he could almost stand outside of himself and watch as it happened. He could see himself and Kal battling each other with great accuracy, Kal having an upper hand since he was fully rested from his meditation.

The image was faint and dreamy, because he could see both the present, past and future of this fight. He could see where it would end, where it had began and where it was. Cloud-like trails followed their movements, showing where they had begun and where they were heading.

"Merging with us, we are the eyes of the Force, it's very sword and shield."

Kal's strength had greatly improved since the recent surge in the Force. Whatever it was, the young Jedi was taking full advantage of it. Rishi couldn't help worrying about him, Kal was a Dark Side devotee wating to happen. All the signs were there, and Rishi doubted his abilities to keep him locked on the path of light. Kal seemed meant for it, and Rishi only hoped if the day should come that they would be far away.

"There is no tomorrow in the Force, no grand design, no prophecies. There is only the moment. If we center on our worries regarding the future, we lose the moment, and lose our vigilance."

Kal leapt above a low swipe, backflipping to a stand above the depression, resting for just a second before rejoining the fray. Their blades crackled and snarled, never apart for more than a breath.

"The future we may desire to see, that the Force may wish for us to acheive, is created solely in the moment." Rishi felt like he was channeling some old Jedi Master, relaying a wisdom he couldn't claim to see so easily. His mind hadn't settled in yet, he had yet to find the calm that he understood Jedi strove for.

Maybe it was impossible for a Kjoil to find it, being so easy to unrest and dark. Master Skar never found it, he knew. But nevertheless he understood the wisdom of the words. Filling your time and mind with thoughts about a possible or impossible future was a waste of time. The future you wish for could someday happen, but the journey between acheiving it and envisioning it was so immense that when the future finally arrived, you wouldn't notice the change. Life would always move forward, whether you wanted it to or not.

Tearing him away from introspection Kal's blade fell upon Rishi's unready guard, the Jedi manipulated his own blade around in a masterful disarming technique, straining Rishi's wrist. The hilt was removed from Rishi's fingers, clanging on the floor, and Kal stabbed forth the blue blade, the tip of it resting an inch beneath Rishi's chin.

He could still hear his hilt rolling on the floor over the intense hum of Kal's threatning weapon, it's bright beam almost blinding him. Rishi swallowed, holding his hands out. "Nice work."

Kal grinned. "Must stir something in you, seeing a Jedi catch you off your guard."

Rishi smirked. "Unless that was what I wanted."

Kal's eyes widened -

Rishi waved his hand and Kal flew away as if struck by a powerful fist. He dropped down ten feet away, groaning.

Rishi calmly called the lightsaber to his hand. "If you seize the advantage, never hesitate. Don't think you've won until your enemy is vanquished."

Kal jumped to a stand, his cheeks blushing slightly with embarassment. "Got ya," embarassment soon bred anger. "Damn, that's my real weakness. I want my enemy to know he's beaten. Headstrong like a dewback."

Rishi laughed. "Don't beat yourself up about it. You're learning. Better you learn it here than the hard way."

Kal juggled his lightsaber hilt back and forth. "You learned a lot the hard way?"

Rishi nodded. "Being a Jedi is the hard way."

The lightsaber stopped moving in Kal's hand. "But you're not a Jedi. The Kjoil is an easier way of training, an easier approach to wielding the Force."

Rishi dropped down on his rear, sitting on the highest stair of the depression. "There are no easy ways in understanding the Force, Kal. I learned Jedi techniques first, their method of thinking. Kjoil power allows me to gain understanding at a faster rate, because it comes as a second nature to my instincts and my soul. But most of what I've learned, other than the basics, I learned on my own."

Kal looked dumbfound. "On your own?"

Rishi cradled his lightsaber in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. "He taught me the ropes and led me in, but he was a very distracted indivual, Kal. You have to understand; he came to too much power too fast. His Master forced his Knightship because of outside implications. Master Skar was taking up all he could hold, but in doing so it blocked him from outside impressions. For example the fact that his very own friend was a clone, and that the clone was scheming towards dangerous paths." Rishi nodded to himself. "He was my Master, but he was still a student in many ways."

Kal clipped his lightsaber to the belt. "Okay, you've just never said that before."

Rishi pulled in breath, seeking to ease the tension in his chest. "There were only two trained Kjoil, now there's only one. The other one died, long before he could find the true way of Kjoil methods and power. Now there's just me," he smiled apprenhensively, "and I have nowhere to begin. Haven't the slightest of clues."

Kal seemed sad for Rishi. "I guess I hadn't thought of that. I was jealous of Kjoil power, of you and your unlimited access. I guess it never occured to me that you were merely scratching the surface."

Rishi shrugged. "Scratching the surface...but how do I know it's the right surface?"

Kal started to answer but both their comlinks twitched at that moment. Rishi had a feeling what the message was long before Kal read it.

The Jedi's face paled. "We're in position. The ground teams have already touched down. The Admiral wants us downstairs."

Rishi nodded slowly, his eyes on the floor. He felt like he should say something, him and Kal would be separated once they were on the planet, and Kal would have to fend for himself and think for himself. Though Kal had risen himself from first impressions, Rishi still found himself worrying about the Jedi. He'd even go so far as to say he cared about him. Kal had become a friend somewhere along their adventures together, though Rishi had never thought it possible. Maybe that was all he wanted to say, don't get yourself killed.

"Kal, whatever happens down there - "

The Jedi put away his comlink, nodding his head. "I know, I know. Stay mindful and focused."

"No," Rishi said, standing up and walking over to place a hand on the Jedi's shoulder, "you have what it takes, Kal. You mustn't doubt yourself. We both need to let go of our pasts. Neither of us can have our Masters back. I wish I didn't feel so strongely about coming here, because I have many doubts about what I'll actually find. But I know I have to. To let go of him. I rely on you as much as you rely on me to get through this. I consider you a friend, at long last - "

Kal chuckled at that

" - And friends are equal," Rishi finished and unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and handed it to Kal, and Kal likewise gave his to Rishi. it was a bonding between Jedi to exchange sabers, it was a symbol of laying their lives in the hands of others, and also a hope of reunion.

Kal clipped Rishi's lightsaber to his belt, smiled confidently and nodded. "I appreciate that, Rishi."

"We're more than friends, Kal. We're linked by something greater. We're brothers of the Force, and brothers look out for each other." Rishi bowed his head. "Don't get yourself killed, alright?"

"I won't," Kal said determined.

Rishi smiled. "Or at least stay alive long enough so I can have a rematch."

"You're on." Kal smirked. "As long as I get my own saber for that, sure."

Rishi raised his eyebrows in jest. "You got a problem with my blade, Kal?"

Kal shrugged jokingly. "It's two grams heavy on the back end, the power source's only half full, the emitter's sorely outdated, and the color is slightly off." He grinned. "Or maybe I'm just worried the shiny silver finish will get in my eyes."

Rishi tilted his head. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

"Oh?"

Rishi shook his head. "You'd never even get the thing ignited before I got in your eyes."

The click and vibrating hum of the droid's scanner filled the barely-functional medical center. Light fixtures were going in and out, some of them entirely dead. A shattered bacta tank sat in the far back of the room. Thoroughly the medical droid moved it's arm down the height of it's patient, reading every limb and internal organ for defects.

Raine sat slumbed on the floor nearby, his eyes open but distant from the room around him. The twist of his lips was caused by his inertia and unsettled feelings. And even with his back to the telepath, Raine could feel the nefarious smile on Eknath's face who stood behind him in the shadows of the room. The entire room was thick with the Dark Side, leaving Raine feeling cold and fragile.

The droid finished its readings and turned around to face them both. "All internal organs are in perfect condition, and apart from the patient's head the remaining burn wounds are healing properly." The droid shut down it's scanner. "Although the patient has refused further treatment, without it his facial wounds will not mend." The droid hesitated, uploading an empathy application for it's vocalization unit. "I'm sorry, but he will die if he doesn't receive the proper treatment."

Raine wouldn't face the monster sitting in chair in the center of the room, wouldn't look the man in the eyes. He'd known Krych from he was just a youngling, could still remember the boy's cheery nature as a youth. The abomnination that rested in that chair, was not Krych the loyal. And yet...loyalty seemed to be the only thing that remained unchanged inside the boy's soul. But its parameters had changed.

Eknath rubbed his chin, his eyes fixated firmly on the creature before him, spotting potential where others would turn away in fear, always scheming. The plotting grin on his face seemed to grew wider by the minute. "Excellent," his snake-like voice hissed, excusing the droid, "leave us."

The droid was perplexed, expecting a request for more treatment to it's patient. "Sir, I think you've misunderstood my meaning. Without - "

"I," Eknath's red eyes beamed with anger, "understood perfectly."

The droid nodded quickly and made for a hasty retreat. "Very well, sir. Excuse me." The droid jittered away and exited the room as fast as it's bulky legs would allow.

Raine stared at a segment of the floor by his feet, mourning the boy he'd once known. He could hear the monster breathing, a soft hollow rush of air that whispered like daggers in his ear. In the Force he could sense Krych's eyes moving around the room and feared greatly their link as they fell upon Raine himself. Small as he was, he felt like a distant bright star put up against a ravenous sun.

"Why such sorrow?" the monster asked through charred lips, in a voice so deep and venomous that every stretched syllable seemed to erase all shred of the boy he'd once been. "I thought you'd come to congratulate me."

Raine fought back the tears, closing his eyes shut and tried to remember the boy before his mind's eye. "You...feel blessed, do you?"

Krych had destroyed the medical station he'd awoken in, the bacta cylinder and the droid that had watched over him. He'd fashioned a mask from it's white porcelain doll-like face, which now covered the worst of his burnt face.

What hair that had not been touched by flamed had been shaven down to a bare scalp, horrible scars stretching out from beneath the rim of the mask, and although he knew he was mistaken Raine couldn't help imagining those scars were slowly growing, as though alive by themselves and doing their best to cover all of Krych's head.

The ears were gone, but the mask reached around his face well enough to disguise that fact. The perfectly oval mask itself provided only slits for eyes and mouth, and no bulge sat where his nose would have been if it was still a part of his face.

His breathing came out hollow from inside the mask, his lungs still damaged from the inhalation of too much smoke while he'd been unconscious inside the flames. Bloodshot eyes moved back and forth slowly, dazed almost, and shiny white teeth contrasted eerily with the burnt black flesh of his lips when he spoke.

"I died and was reborn. Is that not cause for celebration?"

"Certainly," Eknath exclaimed enthustiasticly. "how are we to be anything less than thrilled to have our greatest warrior, returned from the netherworld?"

Krych moved his face slowly, every motion stretching sore and damaged nerves. "Back, but not to a clean slate. I took questions with me to the other side, and the fire did not burn them away along with my face." His voice was sharp as a bloodied blade. "The man who attacked me...is dead?"

Raine hugged himself. "The vhroniks left little behind."

When the monster smiled, it brought no joy to those who were there to catch it. "Then the Kjoil menace is dead. His apprentice will surely perish along with the rest of Coruscant." Krych nodded. "And Junn?"

The tension deepened, a cloud rolling over the faces of Eknath and Raine. Eknath hurried to answer. "Unknown."

Krych's eyes locked on to Eknath. "Unknown?" He twitched in his chair. "She was alive when I left her."

Eknath rephrased. "Her whereabouts are unknown, but we do know she is alive. It's safe to assume she must have sustained some damage or injury, but for the time she has exiled herself, hiding somewhere within the facility - "

"Hiding!" Krych snarled. "How many patrols are out looking for her!"

Raine shivered. "None. We are respecting her solitude, her choice to leave her service." He finally looked up at the monster. "And so will you."

The monster's eyes burned inside those slits, his entire body starting to tremble with fury. His fingers dug into his palms, drawing blood. "You are in no condition to force orders upon me, Master Raine," his eyes shifted, "or you, Master Eknath." His knees slowly straightened and he stood, tall and steady, a truly menacing figure. His fingers stretched at his hips, energy and knowledge flowing into the tips of his fingers like tiny receptors. "I can still sense her...she is hurt...but not dying. She's waiting for someone, or something."

Eknath tilted his head. "Something you can give her?"

The monster's head bowed slightly. "No," he admitted. "Not yet." His mask came up again. "And there is a battle approaching. The Republic has arrived."

Raine was impressed. "You've grown stronger with the Force to be able to see this."

"They will launching their troop carriers any minute, their ground support vehicles are already in place. Their entire army. Thousands of soldiers," he muttered, "and something else."

Eknath's red eyes flashed. "Something else?"

"Yes," Krych whispered, his eyes scanning the horizons of the Force. "The Kjoil apprentice is coming."

Raine's senses suddenly came alive, seeing parts of a future again, but too indistinct to make a conclusion. "He's right. The last Kjoil is coming. Coming for revenge."

Krych was walking across the floor of the room, without any chosen destination, lost in the Force and his own mind. "He brings death, death to us all." The hollowness of his voice through the mask made the words sound even more terrifying. "The Kjoil apprentice...and the prisoner was the clone of Skind Kjoil."

Both Raine and Eknath suppressed their initial shock. There was no obvious way that Krych could have known that the prisoner was infact the clone of Skind Kjoil. Riokon himself had gone to great trouble to keep that information from the young man. Raine could think of no other way than the young Loyalty having learned the connection from the Force itself.

Rishi changed his aimless heading and started to close in on Eknath. "And Sonnet was taken from us, I sensed him in the clone's soul. I heard his voice in my heart," Krych stopped in front of Eknath, the white mask glaring upon the telepath. "He was taken...or perhaps...given?"

Eknath started to scowl, his red eyes beaming a furiosity that did not weaken even in the face of a monster. "Are you threatning me, boy?"

Krych's sinister laugh was horrible. "Threats are a waste of time." Krych's left hand reached out behind him and Raine's lightsaber flew from inside his cloak to meet Krych's fingers. The blade bathed the room in a verdent glow and Krych slammed the blade down -

Raine closed his eyes.

- but the green blade was intersected mere centimeters from Eknath's face by a red blade. Krych snarled in anger as Tragedy stepped fully from the shadows behind his Master. Eknath chuckled, staring victoriously at Krych through the crossed blades. Krych pressed the blade against Tragedy's but the boy's grip offered no lenity.

"Did you forget yourself...Loyalty?" Eknath mocked Krych by putting his face even closer to the nexus of red and green lightsaber. "Your woman waits for you...but you cannot be idle. There is a battle to be fought. And you are the new commander. The army needs you, Loyalty, to lead them."

The red and green cast highlights upon Krych's mask. "You betrayed us, Eknath!"

The telepath snickered imperviously, but shook his head. "No. You don't know the truth yet. And there is no time to explain now. The army is waiting for you. Any minute now this place will be infested with Republic presence. Finality and I are needed elsewhere. After we've fended off the enemy I will give you all the answers you want. For now, let me only assure you; I am no traitor."

Krych stayed locked with Joon for a handful of breaths longer, but finally disengaged, a resentful angry frown remaining beneath his mask. Joon kept his blade active while Krych tossed the borrowed handle back to Raine. The hilt dropped from the air, pulled by invisible magnets into Raine's grip.

"After the war, then."

"Yes," Eknath confirmed, "then we'll talk."

Krych smiled, a look in his eyes that hinted he wasn't at all interested in talking. "After the war."

Eknath's eyes squinted as though he caught the message clearly, but avoided delving deeper into the matter. He bowed before Krych and with Joon defending his back they both left the chamber. Raine checked his lightsaber carefully before securing it to his belt. He knew he was alone with the monster now, and the thought stirred his bravery and strength.

"You don't need to fear me, Master Raine," their backs were turned against each other, "I sense no treachery in you."

Raine's brows lifted. "No treachery?"

Krych nodded, still staring at the surface of the door Eknath had gone through. "Since my accident, I've grown stronger. The equilibrium is not solely responsible. The loss of my face has given me great pain on several levels, a pain that has strengthened me in the Dark Side." Krych's hands made fists. "I burn, Master Raine. The fire that took my face is not extinquished. It lives on in my skin, my soul. I am alight inside, burning brightly. I can...I can see connections."

Raine shuffled in his seating on the floor to look upon Krych's naked back. "Connections?"

Krych turned sideways, but wouldn't meet Raine's eyes. "Threads of influence. Connections between individuals who've had contact, who've met, who've made plans together. I see them...like rainbows emitting from the person in the Force. I can't not see it, the fires took my eyelids and I cannot look away. I saw Eknath's threads, but there are so many of them I cannot decipher it all."

Raine could almost imagine it was Krych talking, almost sense a remnant of the boy still in him. "Someone so young, shouldn't carry so much power. It could unmake you."

The mask moved slowly towards Raine. "I am already unmade, there's nothing in me now but Loyalty."

Raine nodded. "But...not the same loyalty as before."

Krych stood still for many breaths and when he finally spoke, his voice was somber. "I will finish my service to the Sons of Destiny, as I once swore. If I am still alive by the time this is over..." his mask looked away. "Well, future has a way of finding us faster than we like." The mask nodded to himself. "For the first time in more than forty years there is no future. The moment is all we have now, Master Raine," Krych moved back towards the doorway and the doors slid open as he approached. "We must trust the Force."

Raine rose and watched Krych walk away. "Forty years? What are you talking about?"

"Come, Master," Krych's hollow voice resonated back from the hallway, "we have a war to fight, and a Galaxy to reshape."

As soon as the sensation and emotions of the Masamune'slargest hangar reached him, Rishi felt like every step he took forward should have been backward. The hangar of the Masamune was bustling with activity like the inside of an anthill, troopers marching to their ships, equipment being packed, orders shouted at the top of lungs. And at the center of it all he walked determined towards his own ship, doing his best to drown out the riot of emotions flooding over him. It really only dawned on him then what he was about to embark upon, and the Admiral's words came back to him.

You're not afraid?

Fear gets me nowhere. I am here because I want to see it, I want to know.

That confidence, that arrogance, was far away now. He still wanted to know the truth about his Master's death, but little voices began to debate back and forth in his head how much he really wanted to know. He knew it was just jitters, that he couldn't back out now and that things would be differently once he was down on the surface. Once he couldn't turn back.

He understood that the ground units had already been launched, thousands of soldiers were already being unloaded on the plains of Regana, preparing for a perhaps inevitable ground battle. He could sense tension everywhere, fear even, and a dreadful feeling told him that all the weapons, all the armor and all the soldiers weren't going to do a single difference about the situation.

And he also knew that the tension he was sensing was not just the thousands of soldiers that were revving up before the battle. What he felt was the Force, like a string of chords. Each chord was being strummed, pulled taut and then released, and a wave of emotion followed. It was stretched thin, too many drawing upon it at once.

This was a Jedi's battle and in the end it would be face-to-face combat that decided the future, not soldiers, not ships and not guns. The Sons of Destiny had already won the surface battle, he was sure of it, he could feel it. They would win the war, but Rishi would win the battle. All he could do was stay alive long enough to get inside and seek out Kayupa, face him and beat him.

He looked out at the soldiers in the hangar as he headed towards his ship, and tried deeply not to see them as already dead. But they were. Clad in top-of-the-line armor, cradling state-of-the-art weapons, one by one, ghosts were being packed into dropships. And the snowy plain below on Regana was already a graveyard.

Fear was a useless emotion.

He reached his own dropship, only to find it vacant except for the two pilots. Both of them snapped to attention as he approached and he greeted them with a quick nod. The ship was about the size of the Koniduz, Master Skar's old ship. The Koniduz was a personnel carrier, much like this one, except it's design deviated greatly. The Koniduz had been customized over the years by mercenaries and pirates before ending up in Master Skar's hands, and as such was sleek and gaudy.

This carred all the trademarks of a ship customized only by battle. Much repair-work shone through like scars of war, and it's design was angry and hostile, a craft designed to be effective psychologically as well as utilitarian. Cannon barrels and missile silos jutted out from every surface and every cavity of the ship that wasn't already in use. He could sense the two pilots weren't the least bit displeased with their assignment, clearly convinced they had the mother of all gunships, judging by the Force as well as their smirky expressions.

"Sir," one of them stepped forward, "we'll be your pilots today."

Rishi still wasn't done taking in the metal predator that loomed over their heads. "She looks...amble."

The pilot smiled. "Just waiting to impress you, sir."

"Too bad she's only giving me a lift."

The pilot chuckled and glanced at the bird affectionately over his shoulder. "Safest ride you'll ever get."

"Commander."

Rishi looked around for the source of the new voice and found a fully armored Republic soldier behind him. A youth but with enough confidence in his eyes that Rishi didn't immediately deem him inexperienced. "Me?"

The soldier saluted him perfectly. "Yes, commander. Admiral Saul appointed you as our squad leader."

Rishi started liking the sound of title. Commander. "I see." He noticed the group of fourteen commandos, decked out in snow configuration and deadly weapons attached to every limb. standing behind the one adressing him. "This it?"

He hadn't meant to sound degradating but the quick change of expression on the lead soldier proved he had nevertheless. "Yes, commander," he straightened even more than Rishi thought possible, and his voice sounded like a weapon in itself, "the Specters, tightest crew the Republic has to offer. They'll do their job well."

Rishi did his best to smile, to appear encouraged as well as encouraging, all the while his eyes refused to lock with any of the soldiers, afraid he'd envision what they'd look like dead. He stetched out with his feelings and found this group to be the calmest group of soldiers in the hangar, their experience had taught them to control their anxiety before a mission.

He also, by reflex as of lately, searched them for any corruption produced by the Sons of Destiny. Any one of these young men could have been tainted by their deception, and since his life depended upon them to some degree, he deemed it wisest to root out any dangers before he locked himself inside a ship with them.

He found nothing except sharp minds that edged to get their fingers dirty, and he wasn't about to delay their wish.

"Right, let's get out of here."

The lead soldier nodded and ordered his men onboard the dropship. Rishi joined them inside and soon the dropship was locked down tightly, the men securely harnessed to rungs in the ceiling of the ship, their armor clattering as they bounched against one another. The pilots strapped themselves in and the deadly ship soon yawned to life, all its systems slowly awakening. He felt the ship lift from the hangar floor, heard the heavy snarl of the repulsorjets as they fired up.

Rishi felt his body start to quiver to response to the ship's vibration, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He wished himself far away, feeling too vulnurable inside a ship he wasn't controlling. He hated flying, hated not being the outer ring of defense that kept him safe.

With only a few pieces of metal and some crude cannons to protect him, Rishi secluded himself inside his own mind and allowed the gentle current of the Force to help him make time pass with more speed. The Force brought comfort and warmth to his mind, helping him relax as well as centering his mind. But it also brought forth questions dormant in his mind that wouldn't be quelled so easily.

The Force was without it's forsight, all his life he'd been able to see glimpses of the future, either by vision or focused intention. What surprised him mostly was the strength he felt in the Force, as if it's boundaries had been lifted and endless, pure energy flowed to him. A greater balance had been achieved in the Force and he had an idea it stemmed from the incidents that had occured on Regana.

The planet had become a nexus point, a great deal of power had centered around the planet, drawing in energy from all of the Galaxy. He was sure Jedi elsewhere could sense the pull. He'd never felt anything like it before, as if the Force had suddenly manifested into the physical presence of Regana. Fates were being decided, the future was left uncharted, and the fate of the Galaxy remained uncertain.

Rishi felt ready, as well as fated, to be a part of it. The newfound strengthening of the Force left him feeling as though he'd skipped several years of training and wisdom, a leap in time as well as soul.

But the feeling of freedom was harrowing, it humbled him, making him worry about the consequences of it all. Was the Galaxy heading for a fall? Were the Jedi at Luke's academy ready for the kind of strength they'd been given? How many of them would misuse it and break away from their teachings?

There was no clear future, and Rishi could easily imagine that this insurgence on Regana would branch into a domino effect, producing catastrophe upon catastrophe that might undo the Galaxy as he knew it. Knowing he'd grown stronger was of small comfort, because so had those who would surely oppose him.

He felt Kal reach out to him and gladly allowed their minds to meld. He felt Kal was also in transit, onboard his own dropship.

Thought I'd find you here, Kal sent.

Rishi felt lighter by Kal's attempt at levity. And he was eager to hear Kal's thoughts on this newfound surge of the Force. Can you feel it? I can't feel it anymore. The center.

The what?

Rishi found it hard to explain. The center of it all...the Force...I can't see the center. Its like...its being pulled in every direction...like a blade of grass pulled by the wind.

Kal sent the equivalent of a nod. You're talking about the future.

Yes, Rishi replied.

I've never used forsight much, Rishi. The future is always in motion, as you said, and we'd be stupid to pay too much attention to unclear evidence. Past has always been where my eyes gazed the most.

Rishi found sense in his words. He'd never relied heavily on future images either, but he wished he had some direction to go after. Some indication of what was to come. Maybe...I just wish I had something to go on.

Rishi, did you ever consider this surge is given because we need it? Because we'll need it to find the future, to shape the things to come?

Rishi felt his insides tighten. Are we ready for that?

If we're not, who is?

For the hundredth time Jovis reassembled his rifle, making sure once again that the weapon wouldn't jam up once things started to go haywire. He'd been given a small squad of soldiers to help him safety the prisoners. The location still looked damaged from the escaped prisoner's visit, one of the gangways above his head had been rebuilt, but the floor still showed scaring from a firefight.

The hundred prisoners were silent as sleeping babies, for which he was thankful, oblivious to the outside events and activities they were a part of. He knew the telepath Eknath had worked some magic of his on them, keeping them quiet and tranquil. It frightened him somewhat; he wasn't used to prisoners being this quiet.

And he would have given anything for some noise. The sound of Akla's dying screams were still echoing in the back of his head, the image of the alien's mangled body appearing in flashes before his eyes every few minutes. He carried some guilt and some regret, he hadn't felt it was needed for him to prove his loyalty by killing Akla. But he'd still done it, because otherwise they had both been dead.

Most of his other mercenaries had been exported from the planet or killed in the initial attack. He was alone now, despite the supposed adoption into the Sons of Destiny. He felt alone, and he would take the first chance at combat to get out there and make the screaming in his head go away. Or at the very least replace it with the screamings of his enemies.

Jovis started when the supposed sealed door into the hostages's pen opened without any sign of ever having been sealed. In walked Eknath, trailed by that younger than young apprentice of his, the blind one everyone called Tragedy. Jovis raised himself off the floor and made his way across the floor to meet Eknath.

Jovis bowed to Eknath, trying not to stare at the odd dark scars crisscrossing his face. "Something wrong?"

"Jovis," Eknath said, slightly intriqued, "I think it's time we had a talk. You've been here for so long and we haven't had a moment to get to know each other."

Jovis felt apprenhensive all of a sudden, and kept his eyes on Tragedy, hugging the rifle in his hands tightly. "It's been working for me so far."

Eknath looked affected. "Don't be abrasive, Jovis. We're associates, not enemies."

"I work for General Riokon," Jovis said firmly, believing those words. "Sorry, but until the fighting is over I prefer keeping myself ready. I haven't got time for leisure. So unless you're here to order me to a new location," he sincerely hoped so, "I gotta get back to my prisoners."

Eknath's face darkened. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

Jovis didn't understand what that meant, but it quickly came clear to him. Eknath raised his hand and closed his eyes. Jovis's body stiffened in place, locked tight inside walls he couldn't see or touch. He felt a dizziness moving over his mind, a prying presence in the back of his brain. Suddenly Eknath's face was everywhere, in all of his memories, privy to all of his darkest secrets.

"You've been around, Jovis," Eknath whispered, his eyes blank. "You've seen much of the world, many battles. But hollow battles. None as glorious as you've wished for. And you've kept a mercenary's heart, fighting for no one but yourself. But it's not just the money, is it? No...there's more."

Jovis wanted to fight, scream, cry and run away. He'd underestimated the telepath's power or never conceived the idea that it might be turned against him. Eknath was in his mind, invading the deepest darkest of his soul, reading it as clear as a hologram. And he could do nothing to stop it.

"Ahhh, I see."

Images of Jovis's own family appeared before his inner eyes and Eknath paged them through like an open book.

"Mandalorian blood runs in your veins, Jovis. A legacy of war and battle. So that's why you seek combat. To understand your heritage. Not many Mandalorians remain, and you're only a half-breed. Yet the drive is in you, on your father's side."

Eknath released his control and Jovis dropped to the floor, exhausted from the man's control of his mind and body. Above everything else he wanted to beat the man to death, make him hurt for his abuse of his brain. But the young Tragedy standing nearby kept that desire to a mere feeling.

"I understand now why Riokon's words affect you so effectively," Eknath nodded. "He's speaking right to the part of you that wants the kind of fame, that can only come from walking away from a battlefield."

Jovis sat up on his knees, glaring daggers at Eknath. "Alright! Enough!"

Eknath grinned. "But Riokon has failed you."

"What?"

Eknath hid his hands within his dark cloak and started to circle him, looking down upon him. "This position, this mission guarding the hostages, it holds no potential for combat. No grand stand, no great victory. You are wrong for this. Mandalorians don't wait for the battle to come to them, they take the battle to their enemies."

Jovis bowed his head, steadying his breathing. "Your meaning?"

Eknath walked behind him. "The ground battle is already underway, but there is another field of warfare that needs a commander. These hostages are safe where they are, within the hands of your soldiers."

Jovis looked over his shoulder at Eknath. "What field?"

Eknath's eyes widened. "Go to the command station. From there you can watch the ground battle unfold perfectly, and you will be the one to drive the finishing stab to the Republic warships in space. But you must go now."

Jovis considered his options, was he being played? Did it matter anymore? As honored as he was to be a part of the operation, he had never shook the initial feeling that he was merely a puppet, as Akla had proved. But a puppet with power could become a puppeteer on his own. Jovis stood and strapped the rifle to his back.

"Hurry," Eknath urged. "The war will not wait for you."

Eknath watched the man run for the exit, knowing another piece of his grand design had just snapped into place. But there were more pieces to move yet. He turned back to the hostages, that devilish grin spreading across his face, falling back into his mind-melding trance.

His fingers flexed at his sides and soon the tendrils of the Force moved throughout the prisoners, affecting each and every one.

On the frozen plains, a silence passed over the seven thousand Republic soldiers. Each single soldier had his eyes on the repair yard partly veiled by the blizzard, each one fixating his attention on the slightest hint of movement.

But there was nothing, not even a light. No sign of life at all. The repair yard stood like an empty fortress, more than willing to be conquered. But it came as no solace, the best of traps were designed this way and it was evidently clear that the Republic would have to make the first move.

Each soldier wore white armor over gray webbing, a bandana over mouth and throat and a helmet feeding them reports from the various units, along with an eyeshield that kept the wind from provoking tears from their eyes. Breath came out as smoke through the cloth over their mouths. The snow-gear was outdated at best, a far cry from what special groups like the Dragon's Tooth or Specters utilized.

Among the soldiers mutterings began to flutter, worried questions passed back and forth, each soldier feeling a tremor in their bravery. Some said prayers, some checked their weapons a fourth time, and some just stared ahead, frozen by fear. Even the ten dormant AT-AT, gargantuan battle-machines standing behind them, left-overs from the Imperial arsenal, did nothing to ease their emerging fear.

The wind's pitch changed, from a low howling it rose to a high scream, as five Republic gunships soared high above over the ranks of soldiers, flying in perfect unison as they went to pay Hope's Haven a visit.

The soldiers cheered beneath the swooping gunships.

Rishi could faintly hear the soldiers they'd just passed cheer them on and it did warm his heart slightly, but not enough to quell the beating in his heart and the ever-growing unrest that built with every second.

He pulled up the sleeve on his left arm and activated his gauntlet's comlink and holoprojector. A lightly detailed schematic of the repair yard appeared floating over his arm. He linked the image to Kal.

"Saber Two, the main structure has a clutter of life signatures at the bottom level. That should be our hostages. Once you reach the station, head for the hostages, extract what information you can, leave your unit with them and regroup with me."

"Affirmative, Saber One," Kal's playful voice came through. "You still feeling queazy?"

Rishi frowned, but found it of some amusement that none of his worry had rubbed off on the young Kal. "Nevermind me. Stay focused."

Kal was laughing on the other end. "Fair enough. Saber Two out."

Rishi watched out the side of the dropship, steadying himself with a tight grip on the rung over his head. The cold wind struck his face but he found himself to be curious enough to bite down the pain.

Beneath the dark specks of the other Republic gunships, the plains of Regana were nothing short of mesmerizing, a vast rugged dreamy landscape, filled with white and blindingly pure. Even through the gale-force storm he could see it, see an enviroment that stayed untouched, uncorrupted by artificial structures. He remembered nothing like it. He'd lived on Coruscant for so long, grown so used to metal and concrete and steel, that he couldn't remember what Draori, his homeworld, looked like. The sight brought a rare joy to his fluttering heart, and he'd never thought he'd find so simple pleasure at simply looking at unfamiliar landscapes.

Strange, he thought. There he was, heading into almost certain death, right into a clear trap, all on personal motives only to witness this now. He couldn't help feel the Force had wanted him to see the snow, the mountains, the ravines, all of it to help him remember that a world existed outside his own head, a beautiful world at that.

He could feel himself starting to smile -

When blocky black metallic structures rolled underneath the dropship, the towering buildings of the seemingly deserted Hope's Haven. It looked no more alive up close, the snow had been falling more rapidly and the repair yard appeared to be slowly overcome by the landscape itself. He spotted several cannon emplacements and spanned his awareness to enfold all of them in his mind. Any sign of activity or motion would send a warning through his mind.

His heart started to pound faster, and the dropship moved into a sharp dive, settling into a hovering position over the roof of the designated structure, blowing the snow from the surface and revealing a landing pad.

The fifteen soldiers began jumping from the ship when it was within a safe height, never fully landing, making for a quick flight away from the structure once the team was offloaded.

He knew the same thing was happening at five different locations throughout the installation and he was curious enough to look up and see if he could spot the other gunships.

Across the station the other gunships likewise dropped to a hovering state over their designated entry points. He could spot two of them, on the adjacent buildings. The soldiers onboard were crawling out of the hold, armored and already in combat-mode. They secured the roofs and laid out a defensive pattern, while one soldier on each roof prepared shaped charges to blow a hole through the ceiling.

The Force enveloped him and an image of two roofs exploding flashed before his eyes, only seconds before it happened.

The roofs of the two closest buildings erupted in a fireball that swept out, engulfing the gunships and throwing commandos off the ledges. He could hear some of them screaming as they fell over the engine of his own gunship.

"Sithspawn!" Kal's voice broke through on his comlink. "What was that!"

Rishi pulled himself out of the shock and forced his mind to work logically. "Saber Two; do not use ordanance to breach! They've got the roofs loaded with explosives!" Another explosion drowned out his voice, and Rishi's heart pounded against his chest. "Kal! Kal! Come in!"

Static filled most of the connection. "...alright, Saber One. That was the last gunship. We'll talk once we're inside!"

"Copy that," Rishi killed the link and saw only half of his commandos had been unloaded so far. "Get out of here!" He knew the pilots didn't like staying in one place for too long at a time. The drop-off went too slowly for Rishi's taste, feeling extremely vulnurable. "GO! GO! GO!"

The soldiers hustled as fast as they could, dropping down onto the landing pad one at a time, rifles ready in an instant, setting up a protective perimeter. Rishi touched the shoulder of each soldier that passed him, urging them forward. He felt like he should say something encouraging, but his frustration with their slow movements only fueled his anger. They'd just been reduced to less than half their force, thirty soldiers and three gunships lost within a minute.

You know what will happen to them.

A voice in his head. Rishi felt exposed, even more vulnurable. He looked out at the other structures, trying to spot a source. Obviously someone was observing him somewhere. Someone Force-sensitive.

You know they're walking into a trap, just like your Master. They are coming here to die, and you know it. You shouldn't be here. It's wrong, Rishi.

Rishi couldn't shake the fear from his heart. Master?

You're not ready for this. You have no idea what you're walking into. You're not just going up against an enemy, you will be fighting the very will of the Force. You are walking into a destiny in which you do not belong, events that you should not affect.

Rishi started fading into himself, losing sight of time, losing himself in an attempt to keep the voice going, to understand what it was telling him.

This has to happen, Rishi. And the Force wants it to happen without you. You're only making things worse. You cannot escape fate. And the Force will work against you, it will betray you, because your presence is not needed for a favorable -

"Commander, please!"

Rishi came out of it, to see the dropship empty of soldiers and the pilots staring at him from the cockpit.

"Get out of here, Commander! We can't stay here any longer!"

Rishi ignited the lightsaber and jumped from the hold, plummeting down through freezing winds with that voice, that soft comforting voice becoming a haunting presence in his head.

This has to happen, Rishi...

Rishi shook the voice out of his head and the wind took him, nudging him slightly, but using the Force he steadied his descent and dropped down perfectly in the midst of the soldiers. Above him he heard the dropship revv up its engines and watched as it accelerated away, only to come back around through a half circle and roar over their heads before heading back towards the ground forces.

Rishi wished them good luck and dropped to his knee on the roof. Reversing his hilt he stabbed the blade easily through the surface and carved a circle around himself. The carved disc caved and Rishi rode it down into the level below. The moment the disc touched solid floor inside the top level of the building, his blue lightsaber fell into a defensive stance.

His cloak billowed out behind him, still pulled by the wind outside. He looked down both directions of the wide blackened corridor, released two flash grenades from his belt and tossed them both ways. Heartbeats later both went off and rocked the floor beneath him, lighting up the corridor in a brief but powerful blaze, showing him sealed doors at both end.

He gave the clear signal to the soldiers on the roof and moved down the corridor while they dropped down loudly, one by one through the hole. They filed out behind him, half covering the rear while the second half stayed behind him just enough to shoot around him. He was a living shield to them, and the thought he found complimenting, if it wasn't for the fact that every shot fired would reach him first.

Never wasting a second, he reached the end of the corridor and slammed his lightsaber through it's locking mechanism. The door remained sealed however, but Rishi's manipulation of the Force pulled the door aside, spitting sparks over his feet as it clawed against it's own rail system -

A shot wheezed past his head and Rishi left the door half open, moving behind it's cover along with the soldiers. It annoyed him he hadn't managed to do a count of the enemy in the next corridor, but right now the doorway that vomited shots through the half open door reigned first priority.

With his lightsaber he stabbed several holes in the door and stepped aside so the soldiers could use them to shoot through. The holes were small enough to offer cover but also large enough so they could aim efficiently through.

Rishi unhitched another flash grenade from his belt and spun it through the doorway, a second before rolling through. The grenade exploded just as he came back up. He closed his eyes from the blazing light that burned through the corridor before him and lended his body to the will of the Force.

His arms moved as though he was a string puppet, cutting down enemies left and right, whipping through them with fast and wide arcs of the blue blade. Two heartbeats later he gave another clear signal.

The soldiers filed past him, checking the dead for useful items. Rishi was about to advance forward when a gnawing feeling manifested in his gut. He made an annoyed sigh and nodded to the soldiers.

"Hold on."

He dropped to his knee again and carved another circle around him, dropping down into the floor underneath, landing in the middle of a group of enemy soldiers running for an unknown location. Rishi knocked the nearest down with an elbow, kicked another to the wall and sent out a whirlwind of the Force. The soldiers lifted off the floor and hovered helplessly in his grip. Rishi spun his blade as he circled himself, ending the lives of every soldier. Their bodies tattered to the floor loudly and Rishi jumped back up through his hole and joined his group of commandos once again.

"Move up," he said casually and activated the comlink on his wrist. He thought it wise to inform Admiral Saul that they'd made it inside and that they'd made contact with the enemy. He moved it to his mouth to speak -

- and a sputter of static clawed at his ears.

Kal swirled the lightsaber, making good use of his wrists's flexibility as he created an umbrella of blue light that bluntly punched every bolt aside. The soldiers in his unit raised hell with their rifles, gunning down their assailants with ruthless efficiency. The enemy soldiers fell back as though struck by an invisible fist with every salvo of bolts that slammed into them.

Kal watched it with half his attention while the other half focused on keeping his lightsaber spinning at full speed. They'd come down inside a small hangar which housed the only starfighters Hope's Haven had for an air defense, several B-wings sat packed along the walls and a group of enemy soldiers had firmly barricaded the only way out by stacking several large crates into a small section of cover.

Kal began to press his shield forward, shouting for the soldiers for follow him. The air around him was laced with blaster bolts, a sharp ringing starting to pound through his brain. He locked the pain out of his sphere of attention and kept a steady forward pace, ignoring the pain forming at his wrists and the sweat stinging his eyes.

Once he got within reasonable range he sent an order into the minds of the soldiers behind him and threw himself into the air. The soldiers jumped to the sides, diving onto their stormachs and rolling to safety behind the starfighters. Kal came down on top of the cover, whipped his lightsaber down in a wide semi-circle, cleaving three helmeted heads in one stroke.

His speed offered none of the remaining soldiers a chance to fend him off, as he dropped down to the floor among them. He stabbed his blade out to his left, spearing two on the length of the saber, then retracted the blade and changed grip behind his back, dropping it into his right palm and stabbed another two.

The battle ended and Kal whistled for his unit to form up. He faced the door leading out of the hangar and brought his comlink to his lips.

Static exploded from its small speaker.

They've jammed external communications. His eyes looked at the walls of the hangar around him. Or maybe it's the storm...doesn't matter. Onwards, Kal.

He switched over to Rishi's frequency. "Saber One, this is Saber Two."

The speaker replaced static with distant muted sounds, a lightsaber twirling and bolts flying. "Kal, you okay?" Rishi asked.

"For the moment. I've lost communications with the outside."

"Me too. Nothing we can do about it now," a thunderous explosion on the other end almost broke the speaker in his comlink, "mind if I call you back? Kinda in the middle of something."

Kal smiled. "Catch you later."

Although he felt no more connected with his soldiers groundside from the bridge than he did in his quarters, Admiral Gout Saul had chosen the bridge as his command center for the operation. He moved from opposite ends of the bridge, watching the readouts on all screens over his officers's shoulders, issuing orders, asking questions, relaying thoughts and making sure his presence was known to every man in his crew.

Anything to avoid staring at the haunting white planet that spanned his viewscreens. An hour had passed since the young Rishi had boarded his gunship, even more hours since the ground forces had launched from the hangars. Three gunships down, three units of commandos gone in the blink of an eye.

He felt vulnurable, knowing the Masamune was cut down to a skeleton crew, knowing so many of his men were down there on the ground, in harm's way and he could do nothing to better their chances. They were fighting a ghost on it's home terms, unable to do anything but their best to win the day.

Communication with Rishi and his team had been severed, the circumstances still a mystery. The lack of communication with the commandos inside only worsened his fear, it could mean many things, it could easily just be a disruption in the single comlink or it could mean all of the teams were dead. There was no way of knowing without going inside.

He wasn't about to count it off as a mishap, in combat everything was intent and nothing happened by accident. No plan survived contact with the enemy. By all the evidence the repair yard was dead, no electronics present that could distort their signals.

But the reason worried him less than the consequence; was Rishi and his team already captured, perhaps dead? He'd decided to give them two hours, before he ordered the ground forces to advance on the station.

He feared having to give that order, feared having to enforce incidents he wished he could avoid. It brought him little comfort to know that the order wouldn't really be his, that it would be High Command in actuality giving the orders.

And five minutes ago, they had.

Admiral Saul secluded himself at the front of the bridge, as close to the viewscreen as he could get, and fought the temptation to rest his head against the screen in frustration.

A blue hologram shimmered to life behind him, a full-sized reconstruction of General Davon, commander of the ground forces. "Admiral, still no word?"

Admiral Saul didn't really want to face the man but he managed to pull himself away from the viewscreen and shook his head at the hologram. "Nothing, General. High Command has given us the go-ahead. Are your units ready?"

The General nodded, a grave look on his face. "I've trained them too well. I was hoping we could give them more time."

Admiral Saul sympathized. "Nothing more we can do, General. Have your army advance on the station. Once within firing range, your walkers will open fire upon the structures of Hope's Haven, one building at a time."

General Davon nodded, but it was clear by his expression his heart wasn't in it. "And the hostages?"

Admiral Saul turned his back to the hologram and tried to vent his despair with a heavy exhale. "Their lives are forfeit. Casualties of war, General. For all we know they're already dead."

The General tilted his head. "For all we know...Admiral, we don't know anything."

Admiral Saul gazed distracted at station outside, so far away and yet so close. "Sometimes an illusion can fill the gaps of questions we have no answers for. High Command wants the Sons of Destiny's ploy squashed and they want us to be the boot." Admiral Saul searched hard for logic behind his own words, and decided there was none. "You have your orders, General, just as I have mine. Permission granted to level Hope's Haven into the ground."

The General nodded and made a quick salute to Saul's back. "It will be done, Admiral...for the New Republic."

The hologram faded and the General's last words sounded noble but Admiral Saul was not ignorant to the poorly hidden discomfort and disillusionment beneath them. What was happening to the Republic? How could they let this happen? He could have easily sent in another team to inspect the station, but they'd refuted him. The quicker the threat was gone, the happier were the officer-dwellers, hostages be damned.

Admiral Saul tore his eyes away from the viewscreen when his eyes uncovered his own reflection and he found himself unable to look at it.

Krych waded through an ocean of pain, a veil of torment that had no end. As he'd explained to Master Raine, the fire that had burned his face still lingered. He could still feel it on his skin, feel the stabbing ache that came over him in waves as his mask brushed up against the sore skin. He knew any normal human would have been on his knees, screaming for death, praying for a release from the furious terror that draped his head. But Krych was not any normal human.

He was a Dark Jedi; he strived on pain. He'd manipulated his own mind to embrace the pain, allowing it to flow freely, letting it fill his entire being. Doing this brought him in a constant link with the Dark Side, and every pulse of pain brought him more power, made him stronger. He could've easily pushed the pain aside with a technique, but he didn't want that. He wanted to grow, wanted to nurture the Dark Side.

He accepted the loss of his face as his punishment for failing to rescue Junn, it was the only noble thought that kept him from going insane by the thought that he'd never look the way he did before. Covering his face with a mask was another part of that truth, it deluded him from the fact, and sometimes he could almost pretend his real face was still underneath that porcelain facade.

His gloved fingers tapped the controls next to the door to the vhronik pen. For some reason the canines had herded together after they'd eaten all of the ysalamiri. They were territorial creatures, pack-hunters, but so far they'd sent out no scouts, no hunting party to search for food. He admitted he knew very little about the creatures, but the sensation they exhibited in the Force had his curiosity peaked.

The doors groaned as they opened, the sound of it exceptionally loud in Krych's ears. He could feel the vhroniks reacting to it also, their senses centering on the invasion of their sanctuary. He sent out a wave of peaceful intentions, but as he suspected it merely bounced right off their carnivirous minds.

The sloped rows of seats around the round space in the center of the room, led him to believe the room had once been a briefing center or a council chamber. There were ten rows of raised chairs, dark shadows lurking behind every one of them. The floor at the base of the room seemed to have no floor, except for a moving flowing carpet of gray ashy hide. The entire chamber seemed to be alive, moving and snarling, smelling of rot and that unmistakable rusty scent of blood.

The General had told him how they'd lived in cave dwellings on their homeworld and it seemed they'd done their best to find a space that resembled a cave. By all rights the creatures had made the chamber their own, little evidence remained to suggest this chamber had ever truly belong to anyone else.

Krych stepped inside, and the doors sealed behind him.

Five vhroniks leapt at him from a perch above his head, their weight throwing him down the stairs, sending him tumbling onto the sea of vhroniks. Panic shot through his body, but rather than fighting against them he laid still upon their spines, letting their small movements work him like the waves of a leathery ocean.

He understood that these creatures were more than simple animals; they maintained an awareness of the Force that aided their hunting senses, but they, unlike any creature Krych had ever heard of, also believed in justice.

General Riokon had told him how they hunted using the Force, that they preyed upon the Dark Side. So by all means he should have been already dead, torn to pieces like the escaped Kjoil clone, since no place would they find a heart more nestled in the Dark Side than his.

And he could feel them acknowledging the fact, he could feel their minds touching him, reading him, assessing him. The ones upon which he gently rocked back and forth made no physical advance upon him, but the five that had sprung from above the doorway, stalked down the stairs and dispursed at its base, leaning back on their shorter hind legs and lowering their heads as they examined him.

He could see them gazing interestingly beyond his boots, releasing small growls and snarls to each other, communicating on a level he couldn't read.

And he allowed it to happen.

The largest of the five was an animal almost as horrific as the monster he saw in the mirror these days. Four meters in length, the blade-tipped tail easily a meter and a half by itself, the creature's yellow eyes seemed to glow upon him with fury beneath brows made of small horns. The lips pulled back to reveal sharp bloodied teeth that laced their jaws. The tail wagged slowly, and the creature purred shortly before letting out a roar that shook Krych's eardrums.

Then it's hind legs stretched and it began to approach him, crawling over the sea of the herd, barring it's teeth and trembling with anger. He kept himself perfectly still, suppressing the fear starting to form in his guts. And as though the creature's advance wasn't bad enough he could feel the ones beneath him starting to move towards their pack-leader, bringing him closer to the demonic creature upon waves of bony spines.

His breathing intensified, soaking the insides of his mask with humidity. Through those small slits in his mask he saw the creature grow and grow as it came closer, saw the powerful muscles flexing beneath the tight gray skin over it's front legs. He saw those razor teeth, those quivering lips, that thrashing tail.

The paw of it's right front leg landed upon his left shin, and he could feel the fingers tightening around his ankle. The second front leg touched down on the right side of his hip, claws digging into his skin and bones.

And it didn't stop there, the creature never paused but continued to crawl over him, slowly filling all vision the holes in his mask allowed. He felt it brush against his chest, his belly and thighs, enfolding him within it's powerful limbs.

And the head lowered to sniff his mask, it's death-filled breath filling his nostrils. His body convulsed a second but he denied himself the reflex of vomiting. The creature's lips moved across his mask, tasting the porcelain surface. He heard teeth clacking against teeth, heard the tongue as it smacked within the powerful jaws. The tongue moved outside of the mouth, running along the mask, reaching inside the small slits for his eyes, prying and tasting his burnt face.

Krych moved his right hand up slowly, letting the animal clearly know he was moving. He unfastened the mask with a small but quick pull and moved it away from his face, holding it firmly in his palm.

The vhronik stared at his face, unsure of what to make of him. He could see those bright yellow eyes no more than centimeters away, feel its breath wash over his face, see the tiny twitches of its ears as it studied his face. The tongue licked his chin, it's sandpaper texture tearing open his wounds and drawing blood. He bit down on his own teeth, tasting blood inside his mouth. But the creature didn't seem to care, it continued to soak up the taste of his dead face, while he squirmed beneath it's enourmous head.

He could hear other vhroniks hissing and purring beneath him, felt more tongues touching his naked hands and back, felt sharp teeth gingerly probe his soft skin. The uncomfortable sensation brought shivers to his body, and sweat through ever pore, only to be soaked up by rough grainy tongues.

He wondered how long the ritual would last, and what it even meant. He secluded himself from the outside world, and allowed the pain of his bleeding face to fill his awareness. He could stay there for hours if he had to, days. It didn't matter to him, pain had become second-nature to him, a constant he only really noticed when it started to fade. Vhronik minds pricked at his mind, reading his thoughts. He hid nothing from them, nor could he if he wanted to.

He surrendered himself to their care, knowing he couldn't escape unless they wanted him to. And how long it would take for them to evaluate his survival didn't matter. He knew there was a war waiting for him out on the plains, but at that moment he really had no choice. He questioned his motives for coming down into the vhronik pen, releasing it was a stupid idea. Had he come to test them, to fight them? Was there any hint of intelligence behind his coming here?

The pain pulsed again, that fire burning in his skin, steadying his mind, leaving doubt and confusion mired underneath. There was a purpose. His eyes sharpened slowly at the realization, gazing into those yellow eyes, moving his face closer to the inspecting tongue, wanting it closer.

The vhronik pulled its head back, surprised at his movement -

And his free hand flew up to grab hold of the muscles in its neck, holding it tight before it could move further away. The yellow eyes widened and the creature roared into his face. He stared it down, brought his face right up into its teeth and eyes. He allowed no fear to shine through, and he let the animal read his eyes thourougly, letting it know he was the monster here.

The creature roared again, but it slowly dissolved into a painful whimper, a scared and broken yelp escaping its lips.

He grinned into it's head, his cracked face bleeding freely as what remained of his lips formed a smile. "Hate...anger...fear," he whispered to it, "the powers on which we both strive. Your every cell screams, doesn't it? Its your nature to kill the unworthy," Krych closed his eyes and allowed the creature's fear of him fill his head, "the hunger."

The vhronik no longer resisted his grip, but laid into him, seeking his love, acknowledging him as its new master, coiling its powerful tail around his right leg. Its head moved down and flattened on his chest, and he caressed it softly by the ears.

"Don't worry...Talon," he dubbed his new pet, "soon you will be fed hate, anger and fear," he thought of the Republic soldiers outside on the plains, waiting for the war to begin, waiting for him, "by the thousands."