Star Wars: Vengeful Shadows Trilogy

by John the Silver

After the Emperor's Order 66 which eradicated Jedi across the galaxy, one Jedi has survived. Having suffered to watch the death of his former padawan, the Jedi, Lun Gue Ra, makes a deal with a mysterious Sith and risks his very soul for vengence.

2. Episode II: The Scorned

A loud battle cry sang out from the darkness that made up this rather harsh, blistering landscape. Once a Jedi by the name Lun-Gue-Ra, now a Sith, Darth Crimson could feel the sweat clinging onto every crevice of his battle worn face. His eyes slowly narrowed into tight slits as he stared ahead at the figure that stood ready for battle. Draped all in the black, the figure held a thin arm out to the side with a single blade of red energy humming from the tip of its forearm. Thin, yet also muscular, his opponent looked like an intimidating force to deal with. And, for some reason, Crimson could not see the face of his foe. There instead seemed to be a thick mist of black draped over its body, hiding its true identity.

Breathing heavily, Darth Crimson glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw the red horizon of twin rising suns. The entire skyline was painted so beautifully that he would've taken the time to look if he weren't locked in battle at the current time. He could feel the wounds he received starting to ache some, but he managed to focus his mind past it. The only distraction he allowed was the slow intake of breath he heard from the shadow ahead of him.

Darth Crimson felt his foot sinking somewhat into the sandy dune he stood upon, but he managed to slowly edge towards the silhouette with both lightsabers burning. His fingers ached from gripping the blades so tightly, but he knew that he had to get to any kind of vantage point.

The green blade of his saber pointed up and towards his opponent while he held the red one ready at his side. "Give up now. I'm only going to offer this one last time."

The figure said nothing at first as it began to circle closer to Crimson with its red saber pointed off to the side, ready to come down upon him with all its fury. But as it came closer, he caught the sight of something gleaming from the front of its face. Where its left eye should've been, there was a triangle of metal that seemed to focus a red tinted lens directly on him. It was obviously the creature's only remaining eye.

After circling around each other closely, the figure finally spoke in a raspy, almost unintelligible voice. "There can only be two." It said as it took a firm step directly in front of Darth Crimson. He could see, now that it was closer, the figure's right hand was missing, and in its place was the emitter of a Sith lightsaber attached to its flesh. "The master…and the apprentice." It continued. Rage seemed to be building up in its voice. "And I shall reclaim my position!"

Darth Crimson bared his teeth and tossed his black ponytail over his shoulder with a flick of his head. Putting on an intimidating show, he twirled both his sabers expertly around his body, making it look like blooms of red and green swirls surrounded him. He then stopped with both blades ready and in a fighting stance. Crouched down just a bit lower than his opponent, he cracked his neck loudly to the side.

"You can try." He whispered darkly and stood still. Crimson glared directly at that single eyepiece that stared back at him.

The two combatants said nothing as a breeze suddenly picked up from behind the dunes and wafted over both of their bodies. Neither of them glanced to the pair of suns that finally rose up and over the horizon. As the glow of its rays seeped over the seemingly endless fields of sand, both Darth Crimson and his unknown enemy took in a deep, slow breath. And it was only when the first edge of light touched their feet that both made their final moves. With ear-shattering war cries, both warriors ran, kicking up sand and raising their lightsabers up, aiming to strike the other down.

His eyes opening wide, Darth Crimson waited momentarily for his vision to adjust. The overhead light that hung above his bed was still on. Once again he'd fallen asleep without turning it off. Slowly he started to sit up and moved over to the edge where he gently cupped his face in his hands. He'd been getting so tired of having that dream that he'd always feel exhausted afterward; strange how a simple nightmare could have such a strong effect on a man such as he.

It's been seven standard years since this one time Jedi took his first step into the dark side of the Force. Before that time he would've never believed that he'd ever acquaint himself with a denizen of darkness, a Sith. Yet here he was, dressed in a black vest and pants with his red tunic and boots sitting at the corner of his bed, and all of this because of the death of a student.

Funny. All his life as a Jedi, Crimson was always taught that death was nothing to be feared. That those who pass on will become one with the Force and therefore should not be missed. In a way, those teachings worked. Crimson did not fear death. But he did not rejoice it either. As a matter of fact, Darth Crimson despised death. No, Lord Crimson hated death. He saw no justice or celebration in it. All he saw it to be was a cruel entity that took its victims before their times. And his proof of such a thought sat on a small table just across from him…Yeniz's lightsaber.

Looking around his small sleeping quarters, Crimson's eyes immediately fell upon the large window that showed him the vast, inky blackness of space, sprinkled with the glimmering stars of far away systems. But these days he no longer saw those tiny dots of light. All he could see was the encroaching darkness.

He didn't bother to check the time, but instead reached over to snatch his red tunic from the corner. After slipping it onto his shoulders, as well as tying his boots, Darth Crimson stood and slowly wandered over to the only window in his room. He felt inexplicably drawn to it, staring mesmerized at the blackness between each individual speck of light. All he could do was get lost in its infiniteness. Maybe it would be there that he could finally forget what her face looked like. Since that first day and through all of his training, Darth Crimson had never been able to forget Yeniz's face. It could be that was why he stared at the space between the stars, it reminded him of the color of her hair: black and like an empty void.

It took a couple tries but Crimson was finally able to pry his eyes away from his view port and started towards the door. Along the way he grabbed both his newer, Sith lightsaber and Yeniz's. Attaching them both to his belt, he was about to leave when the reflective gleam of his mirror drew his attention. He couldn't help but realize that his new life had indeed changed him; both spiritually and physically.

His face was thinner and seemed to be pale. After years of training under Darth Gryphon's tutorage, Crimson had seen and committed many atrocities that he would've never thought possible of himself. But as more and more blood spilled onto his scarred hands, the less he saw any of his actions to be crimes. With his new, darker perspective, Darth Crimson spread fear along side his master. Everywhere they stepped blood was sure to rain upon the ground in a chorus of tips and taps. And while he felt little to no remorse concerning that idea, his weary looking face reflected each of those sorrows that he believed to be buried so deeply in his heart. Even with his fall, it was hard to bury his soul.

Tucking a few loose strands of his black hair behind his ear, he gaze his reflection a thoughtful sigh before he exited the room through the automated door. The halls of his master's starship, the 'Ragnarok', always caused his skin to goosebump. Not because of any unheeded fears, but because there was always this icy chill that radiated from off the very walls. It was almost as if Gryphon's mastery of the dark side was so powerful that he was actually able to corrupt the very bolts and circuits of this entire ship.

Crimson only had the sounds of his own footsteps to accompany him on his trek to the starship's bridge. He knew that was where his master was. He could feel that void of darkness blooming from up ahead. And that could only mean that Darth Gryphon was there.

Mindlessly he continued on, paying little attention to the rows of overhead lights that lined both sides of the cold hallway. Circuits blinked and energy hummed along in a cornucopia of colors and sounds. At the right of the hall he spied their small, green astromech droid, R3–E1, busy at work. It clicked and whirled as it frantically tried to repair a series of power cords that were sparking madly. More than likely another of his master's outbursts of anger caused the damage.

His dark eyes turned up, Crimson casually walked through the double doors that led to the bridge and stopped. There, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, stood his master.

"Welcome Lord Crimson." His malevolent voice whispered. "I see that you've awakened just in time." Turning around, Gryphon's lifeless seeming eyes fell upon him. "We are almost at out destination."

"Excellent news." Crimson replied even though he didn't know where they were going since his master refused to say. Silently he fell to one knee and bowed his head respectfully.

His hand resting on the hilt of his double-ended lightsaber, Gryphon turned fully to face his apprentice. Still the same death incarnate Crimson witnessed since his first day as a Sith, Gryphon still made an intimidating figure. His bulky, muscular body was just as pale as his eyes, though his head was heavily tattooed. One could mistake this man for dead if not for the smirk of sheer confidence and malice that seemed to forever be etched on his face.

Adjusting the pair of thick straps that ran across his chest and into his belt, Gryphon returned to the flight panel, but not before whispering. "Something troubles you."

Darth Crimson stood up right and eyed his master closely. "My lord?"

The Sith smirked darkly and tapped his temple as he watched him from across the room. "Your thoughts betray you. I sense a great amount of confusion. What is on your mind?"

"It's nothing, master." Crimson replied with a shake of his head and walked over to take a seat at the panel next to him. "Merely a dream that haunts me."

"What sort of dream?"

"A strange one." Crimson muttered and immediately tapped a button on the panel to pull up the ship's status. "I'm standing on the sandy dunes of some…desert. In the sky there is the glow of two suns." He didn't notice Darth Gryphon turn to look at him and continued on. "And standing before me is a figure. Possibly a man and one whom wants to engage in battle with me. I believe that he maybe another Sith."

Gryphon smirked and shook his head as he checked the time left before reaching their destination. "It's merely a dream and nothing more. Except for the Emperor and his servant, Darth Vader, you and I are the only Sith left. More than likely, it was one of them you saw."

Crimson fell silent as his mind wrapped around his master's words. His thoughts went back to the dream, trying to see if either Vader or the Emperor's faces fit into it. But the longer he concentrated, the surer he was that it was neither of those two. Whoever the Sith in his dream was, it was someone else.

"No," he finally whispered under his breath, "it wasn't them. I'm sure of it. This man was someone different. And even though it was a dream, I could feel the dark side radiating off him. There was such anger and…scorn…"

"This was no vision, Darth Crimson." Gryphon said sharply and turned his eyes away from the screens to face him. "Only a dream that you will forget with time. As I've told you before, besides yourself and I, and those on Coruscant, there are no more Sith."

Darth Crimson stared back at his master's lifeless eyes for the longest time. Every instinct in him was saying that this was wrong, that his master's assumption was wrong. Before he didn't want to believe he was having a premonition of any kind. But the more that he thought of it, the more he began to believe its real possibility. Could there actually be another Sith out there and alive?"

"You may not believe it," Crimson slowly replied, "but I do. I do not know who that man was, but I believe he is real."

"I'm warning you Crimson. Do not let these thoughts cloud your judgment. Your training is just about complete. Soon the pair of us shall be strong enough to dethrone the Emperor and kill his protégé. You shall have your revenge. And me, well, I shall ascend to the power that belongs to me."

Crimson sighed and let the argument drop. He knew that his master Gryphon was correct. He had to keep his mind clear so that he wouldn't lose his focus. The power was almost his. The strength he would need in order to slay the murderous Darth Vader and avenge all the Jedi that fell before his blade was just within his grasp. It felt like a sphere of electricity locked deep in his chest. Hidden behind a door that he had yet to pull open. And Crimson knew that the time to tap into it was near. He could feel it.

After checking that their engine status was good, Crimson glanced sidelong to his master. "My lord, where are we going? You have yet to tell me."

A small smile played on Gryphon's lips as he kept his eyes forward, watching the sparkle of stars fly past their ship's bridge. He said nothing, and instead remained quiet and contemplative. The silence was almost eerie to Crimson as he watched the Sith turn to face him.

Finally after what seemed like moments dragged by, he addressed him. "We are going to Tatooine, a system on the Outer Rim. Once there I shall meet with an old acquaintance. It is she who will give us the means to get close to the Empire's leader."

Nodding, Crimson turned back to the windows but soon felt an icy chill run down the length of his spine. There was something familiar in the sensation. Much like how he felt when he first had those dreams of his unknown opponent. Darth Crimson continued to stare out at the black space mutely, unable to shake the persistent feeling that he was somehow being followed.

A safe distance behind, by only a few par secs, another starship is at a stealthy pursuit. Speeding across the galaxy, following the ion trail of the Ragnarok is a smaller, single-manned ship. Obviously a few years obsolete, the hull of this cruiser was marred with burned spots and blaster marks that identified its years of service in the Clone Wars. But any semblance of that former glory is now gone. A patchwork of metal and color covers its entire surface, thus replacing only the serious damage it sustained and keeping the mementos of its once prestige. That was how the weapon runners across the galaxy liked it. A ship's old scars made it priceless to collectors and proved its authenticity to anyone else who had the money to buy them. But the current owner of this starfighter was neither a collector, nor a rebel or pirate. No, this man was a killer, a killer with only bloodlust on his mind.

Keeping a steady hand on the yoke, the man breathed calmly as he reached over to push down a button on the control panel. Slowly he tapped the fingers of his left hand against the armrest of his chair while he listened to static that flooded out of the speakers around the cockpit. The man's fingers gave off a metallic click each time they struck the panel in sequence, but he didn't hear the sound. His attention remained directly to the static and the static alone.

Leaning forward some, the kaleidoscope of lights from his controls illuminated his face momentarily in the surface of the cockpit window. Dark hair grew out of his crown in thick spikes that rested against his forehead like tiny wings. But that was where his humanity ended for there was no face to be shown. Dirtied bandages covered every section of his head and neck, all the way down to his shoulders. No features of his face could be discerned from the strips of cloth…save for one. Cutting straight out of the bandages where his left eye should've been was a single, triangular eyepiece.

He reached up with his cybernetic left hand, as only a shallow breathing was present while he turned the dial near the speakers. Silently he kept changing frequencies until a familiar voice caught his attention:

"My lord, where are we going? You have yet to tell me."

"We're going to Tatooine…"

The lens on this creature's eyepiece flashed red briefly as the voices of the two Sith he was following rebounded inside his skull. One he knew all too well and the other was merely an obstacle to be taken care of in due time.

Another shaky sigh and he turned his head slowly to his right arm that he lifted in front of him. It was odd how much he despised the living flesh that ran up to his elbow. From his forearm down there was only cold metal that cut off at the stump where his wrist should've been. So as a result of that metal casing, all he could feel up to his shoulder was an ever-present chill. At least his left arm was completely cybernetic; there was no cold to feel. Flesh and metal should never be combined. He knew that discomfort from personal experience.

But he still would not take his eye off his right arm. His gaze wandered gently over the emitter that stuck out of his newly fitted wrist. The rest of his lightsaber was buried deep into his forearm. It was the only thing he had left to cherish because it was the very last thing his flesh and blood hands had ever created.

A small growl rumbled from deep in his throat as he punched in the coordinates for Tatooine and set the ship on autopilot. This man had only to sit back and wait now. His feelings were strong in telling him that now was the time that everything was going to end. The chance to regain his former status had arrived. For this past year he had been studying the man named Darth Crimson closely. His surveillance droids recorded almost all of Crimson's battle movements so that he might study on his foe. Learn the precise timing of his attacks and find out what burned in his heart so brightly.

"Vengeance may be what fuels you," he muttered in a raspy voice, "but that won't be enough to save your life. I swear that before long, I shall hold your beating heart in my hand and prove, once and for all to my master, that I am again worthy of his tutorage!"

NINE YEARS EARLIER…

"What do you mean I'm not good enough?" shouted an angry and impatient voice.

A frustrated sigh preceded the reply. "In what part wasn't I clear? You're weak Ravage! You fight with skill, but there is no passion behind it! Passion, be it anger or lust or whatever, is what gives a Sith his strength. You battle like an arrogant machine and nothing else." Darth Gryphon pinched the bridge of his nose to release his tension and glared at his much younger apprentice. "To be honest, you seem more suited for the Jedi than the Sith."

His black, feathery hair was disheveled and matted against his forehead from the sweat. Perspiration was dotted all over his thin, muscular body due to the strenuous workout he just endured. The black tattoo that covered the expanse of his chest seemed to gain a life of its own with his heavy, exhausted breathing. Red eyes flashed dangerously at the words, and a young Darth Ravage snarled and held up his burning red lightsaber in a fighting stance.

"You take that back!" he shouted through his clenched teeth.

Darth Gryphon, ever the same intimidating figure, shook his head in disapproval and attached his double-ended saber to his belt. "You display such rage in conversation, but this is no battle of 'words', Darth Ravage. I'm afraid that your skill with a sword and channeling of the Force has reached its peak. And that, simply, will not suffice for what I have planned." Quietly he turned and began to leave the training room. "Just…go back to your sleeping quarters and wait for me to call you."

Darth Ravage's entire body shook with wrath as he let his master's words sink in. Once he was gone, Ravage suddenly growled and spun fast, digging his saber into the smooth, rock wall. Watching the stone melt and ooze out from the hole he cut into it, the Sith quickly slashed out to the side, sending a spray of molten rock in all directions. Ravage breathed heavily in his rage and deactivated his sword before clipping it to his belt.

His arms crossed over his chest, he started to wander down the hall of what had been his home for the last three years. Cut into the very face of one of the many mountains on the planet of Abyss III, the base had been used many years before by smugglers and pirates. Yet for some reason or another the entire complex had been abandoned and hollowed out. Now only two people occupy it: an eager apprentice and his Sith master.

He was not far from his quarters when he suddenly stopped and took a detour. He drifted out to one of the many balconies and rested his hands against the cool railing. His burning eyes looked out over the craggy landscape of this planet and watched the red sun as it started to set behind the high mountain peaks that made up this entire world. A flying rock hawk beat its humongous wings against the air as it soared majestically through the sky, singing its evening call for a mate and shimmering its gray and black feathers. Ravage watched as it disappeared near one of the many peaks and hung his head down.

"If I'm not strong enough, then why did you accept me as your apprentice so long ago?" he muttered little noticing that the sun had fully set and the stars were poking through the black sky. "I was so young to be an assassin but I was good. And I had a reason to be. Those damn Jedi killed my mother when she drew her blaster on them for stopping her smuggler's run. After I learned it was they I trained my hardest to kill. And I ended up as one of the best. I always hit my marks, but I could never get close enough to the Jedi. And then you appear like a ghost in the night, saying you could make me even stronger. That only you could give me the true strength I required to slay a Jedi. I was a killer, master, and you saw the potential in me."

Ravage bared his teeth and gripped the railing even tighter with a few sparks of lightning dancing around his fingertips. Finally, his muscles tensed and spasming, Ravage growled and snapped the railing in two.

"Well, master," he whispered hotly, "if this is another of your tests, I shall not fail. Tonight," he turned and began to walk back into the base, "I shall prove I'm worthy!"

The hours flew by like seconds as Ravage stayed away from his master's presence long into the night. He kept to the shadows, waiting for an opportune moment so that he may strike. In the darkness he embraced the cold void and went over everything his master Gryphon had taught him. And the more he thought on it, the more he deluded himself into believing that he was greater than his master; that he had learned everything he needed to learn from him and his presence was no longer required. No, even as the blackness and the chill of the night air filled his heart, Ravage knew that he was correct; he was ready to take his rightful place.

So as the night pressed on into its early hours, Ravage waited until he felt that his master was truly asleep. Once he was sure of that, the Sith apprentice crept out of the shadows and stalked the halls on his way to Gryphon's sleeping quarters. He could feel the power of his presence growing closer, but knew that he himself was far stronger.

Staying in the shadows, he was silent and flowed like an unfelt breeze. Carefully he stepped into his master's room and narrowed his eyes upon the single bed and his master's sleeping form. For a few, brief, moments he did nothing but tighten his grip on the lightsaber in his hand. He had to make sure that Darth Gryphon was truly sleeping and was unaware of his presence. So it was only after a couple more seconds that Ravage took his second step into the room and crept up to the side of Gryphon's bed, holding his blade ready.

Ravage lips peeled back from his teeth in a malicious look as he lifted the handle of his lightsaber above his head and rested his thumb on the activator button. With pure contempt he glared at his master's sleeping face and held the saber in his shaky hand. Then, in one swift action, he brought down his sword with all the strength he could muster and ignited the blazing, red blade at the same time.

Suddenly another flash of red caught his eye and he noticed that another lightsaber hovered protectively between himself and Gryphon's body. The sound of the two blades crackling fiercely rang in his ears as he tried to force the blade down into his master's throat. But the strain on his muscles was too great and before he could react he felt himself being thrown back by an invisible power. Landing effortlessly on his feet, Darth Ravage looked up in shock as he held his saber threateningly to the side, all the while watching his Sith master, Darth Gryphon, sit up from bed and retract his open hand.

His pale eyes watched Ravage closely as his double-ended saber whirled dangerously around his body. "I was wondering when you'd gather the nerve."

Snarling darkly, Ravage tightened his grip on the saber. "It's time for you to step down, master. I am ready and I am powerful enough to take your place! I'll prove it by running this lightsaber through your heart!"

Gryphon's lips formed a sadistic sneer as he stood up from bed and summoned his lightsaber to hover close by his right hand. He was still fully dressed in his Sith attire. Obviously he had been waiting for Ravage to make a move against him.

Staring down at his apprentice, Gryphon twitched his fingers to make his saber activate its second blade. Slowly he crouched into a fighting stance and beckoned him with his hand. "Then go on and try."

The silence that ensued felt like thunder in the ears of Darth Ravage as he watched his master closely. For many years now he had been sparring against this Sith. And right now, as Ravage felt the calm, steady beat of his heart pounding in his chest, he knew that he would have to summon all those skills in order to finally defeat him. Without another word the apprentice made the first move against the master.

Suddenly shooting his free hand out, he used the Force to push a rather heavy table directly at his master. Knowing that he could easily avoid the attack, Ravage used it merely as a diversion. He observed as Gryphon easily willed the table away so he took the opportunity to roll towards him and slashed out at Gryphon's knees. Yet once again he was greeted by the furious crackle of his master's blade blocking his own.

"Is that it?" Gryphon asked disappointedly. "I trained you better than to use cheap tricks!"

Ravage felt the Sith master's foot connect under his chin and the feeling of only air under his back as he soared through the air. His bones rattled once he crashed against the wall and skidded down onto the floor. But Ravage had no time to catch his breath. Hearing the battle cry of his master, his vision became engulfed with the image of Darth Gryphon charging at him, his saber poised to run through his chest.

The apprentice just barely reacted in time. Twirling his own lightsaber up, he parried Gryphon's attack and sent the blazing sword straight into the wall. He then shot out his leg and threw his heel straight into his master's stomach to knock him back. Rolling behind his master, he once again tried to strike him down from behind, but all he was met with was yet another expert block from Gryphon's intuitive lightsaber.

And in this manner the battle raged on. Forcing one another out into the halls, sparks flew as both the Sith sliced through anything to get to the other. Walls were deeply scarred with burns, furniture and computer consoles split in half with a shower of molten debris. In the darkness, this pair of silhouettes only became illuminated in the glow of red light that occurred with the defensive blocks and rage-filled slashes. Both were at the peaks of their individual styles. Gryphon's sheer power matched perfectly against Ravage's timing and speed. But just as the master commented, there was a flaw in his apprentice's form.

Finding themselves out in a balcony that overlooked the steep cliffs below them, Gryphon only smiled nefariously as he deflected yet another of Ravage's lunging swipes with his saber. "There you go again!" he whispered without the smallest hint of fatigue in his voice. "There is no originality in your attacks! You started this fight with such rage guiding your hand and now you've slipped back into the mechanics of a duel! You're just fighting with the same, basic moves you've memorized; not the burning passion that a true Sith embraces!"

A red arch of light swept in front of Ravage as he blocked his master's attack and drove it into the railing. Ignoring the sparks, he glared as he held Gryphon's saber at bay. "You're lessons have no importance to me anymore, you phantom!" Ravage shouted and planted his foot firmly on the rail. Kicking off it, he flipped backwards, over his master's blade and once again went on the attack. "I will out duel you this day! And I shall become the master I know I'm meant to be!"

But while his arrogance urged him on to fight, Ravage could already feel the exhaustion starting to plague his limbs. Each muscle in his arms ached and his legs felt too weary to keep holding him up. Gradually he felt his reaction time slowing as he fended off both ends of Gryphon's saber that tried to attack in quick successions. Feeling himself being pushed into a corner, Ravage ducked under another rapid spin of his master's deadly blades and drove his sword into a control panel on the wall. Hearing the sudden churn of gears and feeling the rush of warm air on his face, he took the opportunity to dash into the hanger bay so he could catch his breath for a moment.

And a moment was all he was granted. Before he could even blink, the doorway was filled with the dark outline of Darth Gryphon. Ravage could only eye his master as he subtly moved his footing into position and held his saber ready.

Gryphon stepped in calmly, his lightsaber spinning like a disc near his open hand and the usual twisted smirk appeared on his face. "Why are you running away?" his voice echoed in the massive hanger. "I thought you were going to claim the mantle of 'master' away from me?"

Ravage said nothing as he glanced at the ship marked 'Ragnarok' sitting quietly in its spot out of the corner of his eye. His knuckles turned white as he held his blade up and growled wildly. He could feel that he was already losing this fight. "I won't lose to you, Gryphon!" he shouted in a sudden rage.

"I'm sorry," the master responded and took another step closer, sending the echo of his footsteps rebounding off the very walls, "that is no longer your choice to make."

There was a brief moment of calm and silence before the battle erupted into its most furious. War cries boomed like thunder as the prideful, young apprentice charged, his sword drawn and ready in his hand, Gryphon, of course, only stood still and smiled knowingly the entire time.

Sabers clashed and the very air was burned as these two entities fought for pure dominance. Skilled strikes were blocked and deflected as each tried to drive the other into submission. But while this battle seemed like little more than tie, the true victor was revealed in the following moments.

Darth Gryphon always taught Ravage to never get too close to his opponent unless he possessed the speed to outmaneuver his foe. And it was obvious, with his exhaustion, that Ravage didn't remember this. As both had their sabers locked against one another, the master raised his free hand up against Ravage's bare, tattooed chest.

The sound was low at first but gradually began to build. After feeling every hair on his body rising, it clued him in onto what was coming next. The thunderclap was loud as it followed the flash of purple lightning that erupted from Gryphon's hand in a sudden burst. Electricity ripped through him, wracking his muscles in burning spasms as he flew back and skidded across the smooth floor. His saber discarded and lost, Ravage weakly lifted his head to gaze past his smoking chest and to his master's triumphant look.

"You see now, Ravage?" Gryphon asked as he deactivated his blades and attached the saber to his belt. "You could never be a master of the dark side. You are little more than a skilled robot trapped in a living body. I now realize my error in choosing you as my apprentice."

Ravage felt his breathing go shallower. He couldn't accept all that he was hearing. He lost? All the power that he felt was little more than a waste? While all this would've sounded logical to any normal man who found himself on the threshold of defeat, Darth Ravage could not tolerate it. In his eyes it was his right to become the master! And Gryphon would no longer tell him otherwise!

Summoning his last bit of willpower, Ravage quickly flipped onto his feet and reached out with the Force. It was instantaneous how Gryphon's saber reacted and flew across the room, into his waiting hands. The master turned calmly to see Ravage holding the double-ended saber like a trophy.

"I can be no master?" Ravage asked darkly and ignited both blades. Slowly he shook his head and laughed while he held the weapon ready. "That is where you're wrong, Gryphon! I shall be the ONLY master!"

The whole time, the statue-like Sith master said nothing since he now knew that Ravage had finally secured his fate. That lightsaber was powerful and only a master like him could wield it. So just as Ravage began to run into an attack, the Force sensitive blades sprang to life. Unable to control it with the meager power he possessed, Ravage lost his handling and saw only flashes of red before pure agony seized throughout his entire body. In tears of utter pain, the apprentice collapsed back onto the ground, withering and screaming.

A quick flick of his wrist and Gryphon's saber returned quietly to his hand while he walked up to inspect the damage Ravage had inflicted upon himself. The Sith apprentice truly looked like a puzzle broken apart: his right hand was severed from the wrist down and his left arm was completely separated from his shoulder. But these cauterized wounds weren't the worst of Ravage's harms. Gazing down at what remained of his ruined face, Gryphon silently shook his head. Ravage's single, remaining red eye glared back at him.

The master crouched slowly next to the wounded Sith's twisting, tormented body and sighed heavily. "You could never be a true Sith. It would be merciful of me to end you life now." He whispered but suddenly his expression turned demonic as he seized what was left of Ravage's jaw and forcefully turned his head to look him in the eye. "But I'm only merciful to those who are strong. No, Ravage, lie here until the pain grows so intense you die from it. That is your fate now." Roughly turning his apprentice's face away, Gryphon stood, spun on his heel and headed for his starship. He wanted nothing more to do with him or this place.

Watching him go, the screaming and groaning Ravage tried to roll onto his feet. He wanted nothing more than to make his master pay, but the pain of his extensive wounds and his blurry vision proved to be too much. Lying on the cold floor, he watched helplessly as the Ragnarok's engines flared to life and lifted the ship into the air. And it was right before Ravage slipped into unconsciousness that he saw his master lift out of the hanger and disappear into the night sky amongst the many, many dots of lights.

Sand. Harsh, irritating sand stretched out far to the distance. As he gazed out the bridge window, it was all Darth Crimson could see. They had just broken through the atmosphere of Tatooine and were flying over the Dune Sea, on their way to the settlement of Mos Eisley. Though Crimson disliked the yellowish glow that came off the expansive and barren surface, he did not voice any opinions about it. He trusted Gryphon's plans and instead opted to remain silent and observe.

But as he glanced out and saw the twin suns that were already starting to set over the horizon, and unsettling feeling came over him. It all was so familiar to him now. This was the place from his dreams! The sandy dunes and the pair of suns that were all in his mind were here as well. So his master withheld information from him. Maybe it was a vision after all. But as always, he would say nothing. Instead he would have to wait and see what was to unfold.

"We're not far from." Gryphon commented as he put the ship on autopilot. Standing up to his full height, he stepped around the consoles and glanced out the windows before turning to Crimson completely. "I'll go over the plan with you once more. Both of us are going to meet with Anara Nix in the cantina but be on your guard. More than likely she'll have a gathering of her soldiers covering us from the shadows. She doesn't trust anyone she can't blackmail."

Crimson smirked but didn't take his eyes off the sandy dunes. Would his opponent be here as well? "Are you sure that she's been able to procure the access codes we'll need on Coruscant?"

"Oh, I know for certain." The Sith master smiled diabolically, exposing his sharpened canines. "Anara can be very, very resourceful when given the right incentive."

It took them only moments to arrive at an open hanger bay in the Mos Eisely. Crimson still said nothing as he looked over the settlement from above. He could already tell that this place was a haven for the scoundrels and scum that drifted in from across the galaxy. A multitude of species and ranks could be seen: from the high-classed gamblers, to the lowly slaves. Yes, if Gryphon's description of Anara was correct, this is indeed where she would be.

Watching the rough interior walls of the hanger loom up around him, Crimson immediately took hold of his black robe and slipped it onto his shoulders. Gryphon had already done so and was proceeding to the landing ramp that was already starting to extend as they landed. After making sure that his lightsabers were safely hidden on his belt, Crimson pulled up the hood on his cloak and followed Gryphon off the ship after he powered down the Ragnarok.

He found Gryphon paying the docking crewmen a measly sum before he waved him away irritably. Seeing Crimson join his side, the master pulled up the hood of his own cloak and nodded. "Let us go then."

Both Sith were as shadows as they drifted out into the sun drenched streets of Mos Eisley. The coarse sand that covered the ground crunched under their footfalls but none around heard or saw them. Children who ran along the street in play visibly shivered as they went past. A Dug who was speaking in hushed whispered with his cohorts suddenly looked up in suspicion, having an odd feeling of darkness nearby, but he, along with the children, never saw this pair of destroyers. They were blind to their presence, except for an odd tingle, like a warning at the base of their skulls. It was as if the master and apprentice were dark shades moving from building to building and keeping away from the very eyes of those present. Silently the two black robed figures moved along the very edge of the street, dodging around inhabitants with a set location in mind.

Stepping to the side, Crimson came to a stop when Darth Gryphon raised his arm a bit. Both turned to look at a small, out of the way building that seemed lost among the many of the less than desirable homes. Seeing that this was the cantina, Gryphon dodged around an annoying taxi droid and stopped at the doorway.

Crimson watched his master close his eyes and knew he was reaching out with the Force to sense who was already inside. Only a few seconds passed before Gryphon finally summoned Crimson to follow him in.

"Eight of her bodyguards are already hidden among the other patrons." He whispered as they headed down the stairs. "They can easily be taken care of if need be. But do not make any move against her unless I say so. We need those access codes first."

Both stopped at the bottom of the steps and Crimson looked out from under the brim of his hood, eyeing everyone around. He could already sense the darkness all over the place. This truly was the watering hold for all sorts of fiends and criminals. At the bar he watched several creatures trying to drown their sorrows with whatever vice was for sale. Hidden around the dimly lit room, several patrons were laughing or whispering to one another, describing whatever nefarious deeds they had committed, or were planning to commit. This weaved a thick, heavy blanket over the entire air of the cantina.

Gryphon slowly turned his head until his eyes stopped on a figure at the corner of the room. "There."

Following him down, Crimson skirted around a trio of jabbering Jawas and gazed at the figure Gryphon had pointed out. Sitting at the farthest corner of the cantina, Anara Nix was a sultry sight to behold. She sat with her legs crossed in a booth. The red, fiery-headed spy sat unmoving with her pale, delicate looking hand resting on the top of a glass of whatever beverage she had ordered. Her emerald eyes flashed dangerously as soon as she caught sight of Gryphon, but she didn't budge and only breathed calmly. Slowly her chest grew with each intake of breath, causing her bust to strain against the tight black bodysuit she wore. Waiting for Gryphon to take a seat, she didn't even turn her head to acknowledge him. Instead she merely took a sip of her drink and tapped upon the table with her claw-like fingernails.

Crimson could already feel her hidden bodyguards resting their hands upon the blasters at their sides. It was obvious that neither he, nor Gryphon, were to be greeted with open arms. But still keeping his mouth shut, the fallen Jedi merely stood behind his seated master and kept his senses in the Force. The last thing he needed was to be surprised.

Anara eyed Crimson cautiously before her eyes finally fell upon Gryphon. Her ruby lips turned into a smile as she turned her head again, staring off to the side. "Who's he?"

"Does it matter?" Gryphon asked and lowered his pale eyes upon her.

"It does in my line of work." She took another drink of the glass and kept her head turned. "I need to know everyone I deal with. Just to make sure, if anything goes sour," she locked her eyes upon Gryphon's finally, "that there won't be any loose ends."

The Sith master smiled his usual, devious grin and rested back against his seat. "I assure you, Anara, nothing will go sour in this deal. But, if it sets your mind at ease, his name is Crimson, nothing more. He is merely an associate of mine and of no threat to you."

The female spy-for-hire eyed the two of them closely, before she casually nodded her head. "I should hope not, Gryphon. I would hate to end this most prosperous relationship of ours."

"As would I." Gryphon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, why don't we get down to business?"

"Always so quick to work." She muttered and tilted her head a bit to gaze at him. "Don't you ever," she bit her lip gently, "find the time to play?"

The master was unmoving but managed a sneer. "Only when I'm with the right company." Reaching over the table slowly, as to not alert her guards, he gently ran his thumb across her bottom lip and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Now, about those access codes."

Rolling her eyes in frustration, Anara gently reached into the pouch on her belt and proceeded to pull out a personal terminal. She sat back in her seat and started to roll the device teasingly between her fingers. "I told you I'd get them. They're all in here."

"Good girl." He whispered and reached out to take the device away from her. But just before his fingers would brush against the surface, Anara pulled back and slipped it back into her belt.

"Hold on, Gryphon. We still need to discuss my price." Her eyes ran along his muscular chest without any kind of shame.

"I already transferred the money to your account."

"Not that." She said and ran the tip of her finger carefully around the rim of her glass. "We've known each other for a long time, Gryphon. I've gotten a lot of good business from you. But there is…one thing that we've been neglecting for quite a long time now."

The silence was an eternity for Crimson as he glanced between Anara and the bodyguards from out of the corner of his eye. For some reason he was getting a strange feeling. Like something dark was looming not far behind. It was the same thing he sensed back on the Ragnarok and even from his reoccurring dreams. Unable to get a real idea about what he was sensing, Crimson forced the thought away and turned his attention back down to Gryphon and Anara.

"Crimson," his master whispered from his seat, "leave us be for a bit, will you?"

"Of course, my lord." He replied and quickly turned around. He could already sense the blasters trailing him all the way to the steps, but he made no move. Instead, just as quietly as he entered, Darth Crimson left.

The horizon was a dull shade of blue now as the suns were almost completely set. Owners were starting to close shops and patrons were gathering their belongings to return home. As Crimson finally stepped off the top step of the cantina and onto the street, he calmly ran his gaze around his surroundings, glancing at everyone and no one as they went about their business. Not a word fell from his lips as he silently paced around the outside of the establishment. In all honesty, he'd rather be off this wretched planet already and making his way back to Coruscant.

For the years of his training, Crimson tried to keep up to date with all of the Emperor's growing power. He overhead how more and more systems succumbed to his will or were forced into submission by Darth Vader's vast armies and terrifying presence. To Crimson, those two were little more than a cancer that spread from planet to planet, corrupting its civilizations in the name of a dictator. And he, Darth Crimson, convinced himself that he was the cure needed. He wanted to believe that so badly.

Since the first day he stepped upon the path of the dark side, an overwhelming guilt had begun to devour him from the inside out. Though he knew he was doing this to avenge his padawan's untimely death, an image of her saddened face haunted him. Before his reoccurring dreams of this place began, he remembered being plagued by the sight of Yeniz's downcast eyes and frowning face. In his sleep, he would always ask why she was sad. And in reply Yeniz would touch his cheek and whisper, "it's my fault, let me go." That is when Crimson would awaken with tears at the corners of his eyes.

But even with this plea from his once student, Crimson was a talented murderer. With Gryphon as his master, he learned to manipulate the darkness that existed in the universe. He could make any creature beg for the sweet release of death by his hand. In the blink of an eye he could eradicate a room full of foes without even breaking a sweat. And with all of it, with every person slain, with every poisonous barb of the dark side he accepted, he felt no remorse anymore. Though the Jedi he once was still tried to fight for a position in his heart, it was quickly losing the battle against the Sith that he was fully beginning to embody.

Coming out of his musings, Crimson sighed heavily and adverted his eyes from a pair of moisture farmers that glanced at him on their way out of town. Only when he killed did he ever allow himself to look at another being. Slowly he started to pace under the darkened night sky when a sudden chill ran up the length of his spine. Feeling as if he were being watched, Crimson turned his head slowly from side-to-side, glancing at any alleys and dark corners nearby. At first he saw nothing but once he felt the sense of being observed persist, he sharply turned to the right. There he caught a fleeting glance of what reminded him of loose bandages disappearing behind the corner of a wall.

He sensed that this was what had been watching him so Crimson immediately broke into a run after it, crossed the street and into the alley. His robes kicked up behind him like a pair of black wings with each step to give him more of a flying appearance than running. Quickly he turned the corner and looked ahead. There he saw a silhouette dash around another corner and the chase was on.

Crimson ran with all his might after the shadow but it always seemed to stay ahead of him. Leaping over discarded crates and skidding on his heels across the loose sand, he tried his hardest to keep up but just didn't seem able to. Even as he tried to slip into the Force to sense who the creature was, he could find nothing; just another void, like his master's. The only thing he could feel radiating off of it was bitter, unleashed contempt.

Turning another corner in this maze of alleys, Crimson could sense something up ahead. The path ended! It would soon become a dead end. Suddenly changing directions, Crimson slipped into a smaller alley to cut off and block his chase. The darkness was pressed all around him due to the pressing night, but he could feel that his foe was somewhere at the end of that alley. Yet as Crimson's eyes fell upon the rough, stone wall, he saw only tipped over crates and nothing else. Whoever it was he was following somehow managed to slip away like a womp rat.

His lightsaber held in hand, Crimson cursed under his breath and kicked the nearby wall. He didn't know who the creature watching him was, but he was now quite annoyed with it. Crimson clenched his jaws tightly and made to leave when he heard the smallest of footfalls break the silence behind him. His finger moving over the activator button of his saber, he could hear the footsteps growing closer; they were almost timid. But he kept his back turned. With his hood down, his black ponytail got caught in a breeze and wafted lazily against his shoulder, making him appear completely oblivious.

It was only after hearing the closest step that Darth Crimson finally turned and ignited the emerald blade of his saber. His teeth bared, he suddenly spun and aimed weapon to strike down his enemy.

A small gasp of breath and the only sound that followed it was that of a bundle of supplies falling with a dull thud on the sand covered ground. Crimson's hand shook as he forced himself to keep his saber at bay. His arm ached as he summoned all the willpower he could to drop his arm to the side and deactivate his sword. All the while the red seeped away from his eyes, revealing the wide-eyed, blonde child who looked up at him.

The boy was young, only seven or eight years old with a crop of short, blond hair atop his head that waved with the breeze. His wide, childish-like eyes stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and shock. For the longest time he didn't move. He only stood there, dressed in his wore, white tunic and beige pants with his arms to his sides.

Gulping down the rage that tried to seize him, Crimson attached his saber back onto his belt and took a deep breath. His features softening a bit as he looked at the kid, he nodded his head to him. "S-Sorry about that kid. I…didn't mean to scare you. You all right?"

Carefully the boy nodded his head. "Yes sir."

Crimson looked awkwardly back to the wall before he glanced down to the items the boy dropped. Sighing deeply he fell to his knee and began to scoop up the bundle. "What're you doing here? Were you following me?" he asked and placed the supplies back into his tiny hands.

"No." he replied meekly and nodded his thanks for being given back his things. "I…just heard running. I thought someone might be in trouble."

Still on his knee, Crimson nodded slowly and took a close look at him. He couldn't explain it, but he sensed something strange from the boy. It was a familiar, yet forgotten feeling that he used to sense back in the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. Still watching him, he could swear that he sensed something else in him, almost as if he were part of something much grander. Like some sort of light was dwelling deep his body, hidden away and completely untapped. If he didn't know any better, Crimson would've called it…hope.

"Luke?" a female voice called out. "Where are you Luke?"

Both the boy and Crimson looked up as a slender woman, closer to the Sith's age, arrived at the entrance to the alley. Her short blonde hair remained tied back as her eyes looked surprised over Crimson's appearance. Clutching a small box of supplies to her chest, she bowed her head gently in his direction.

"H-Hello sir." She whispered and turned her attention to the kid. "Luke, are you okay?"

After watching him nod his head, Crimson put on a small smile and stood up straight. "My apologies, Miss. I was merely helping the boy pick up some of the supplies he dropped by accident. Seems I startled him as I was coming out of the alley."

"Oh…" she said and suddenly gave Crimson a bright smile, "well excuse my rudeness then. Thank you. My name is Beru, Beru Lars." She stretched out her free hand to shake his.

Slowly reaching out, he actually seemed a little strange as he carefully took the woman's hand. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he shook her hand with a gentleness that he hadn't used in years. It'd been so long since he'd had any kind of cordial greeting that, for some reason, he actually felt unaccustomed to it.

Retracting his hand, he nodded his head slowly before he replied. "Lun-Gue-Ra," he muttered it as if he'd almost forgotten his own name, "my name is Lun-Gue-Ra. And it was my pleasure to help out. Sorry if I scared him."

"No trouble at all." Beru smiled, a small blush coming to her cheeks. "Accidents will happen." Reaching down she placed a hand on Luke's shoulder to lead him away. "Well, it was nice meeting you sir. I thank you again. Come along Luke. Uncle Owen is waiting for us."

Crimson merely waved his hand goodbye as he watched the pair of them leave. He couldn't help letting his eyes drift back to the boy named Luke whom glanced over his shoulder to look back at him. Though he wasn't completely sure, Crimson couldn't shake his feeling about Luke. Whatever it was about him, he knew then that the boy would be meant for something…tremendous. He'd bet his life on it.

Resting his head back against the wall, he sighed and stared off silently into space. He knew that he had to get back to the cantina before Gryphon found out he was gone. So after pushing himself off the wall, Crimson slowly started his way back. The streets were practically empty now that the night had fully appeared over their heads. The only lights left were the small ones from household windows and from the large, full moon above him. Before long he found himself outside the bar once more.

The night pressing on and hours having gone by, Crimson rested still in front of the cantina. He knew that morning would be coming soon and hopefully his master Gryphon would be ready to leave by then. Contemplating whether or not he should just head back to the ship to wait, a sudden warning flashed through his head. Once again that feeling of some kind of hatred watching him overtook his senses. Unsure of where it was coming from, he started to turn from side-to-side in a paranoid motion. He knew that whoever was watching him was nearby, but where?

Then he saw it again, that same wisp of bandaging caught in the breeze. But this time he saw what they were attached to. Though from far away it only seemed like a silhouette, Crimson knew this was the man who fled from him earlier. Quickly this shadow ran along down the street before he suddenly hopped onto a speeder bike and revved up its engine. But he didn't seem to be leaving yet. As a matter of fact, he more looked like he was waiting for someone.

At first Crimson was confused by this behavior but as he got closer, he finally realized what the man was doing. Watching him tear off down the street, Crimson hijacked his own speeder bike. "He wants me to follow him. He's coaxing me on."

But even as the thought came to mind, he didn't stop to rethink it. He didn't know who that lunatic was but he was now hell-bent on finding out. So after starting up his bike, Crimson followed suit and sped off after the malicious-feeling entity that called him out.

Though now in complete darkness except for the bright moon thanks to the firmly settled night, he never once lost the trail of his fleeing foe. All he had to do was focus squarely on the vibrant hatred he felt from up ahead. Following this he weaved around the barren streets with ease until he noticed that they were now leaving the settlement of Mos Eisley and were heading out into the empty desert. Wherever this person was leading him, it was obviously already all picked out. Yet he still would not give up the chase. His hair whipping around behind him, Crimson ducked down a bit and shoved down on the accelerator. He was fully intent on catching this fiend, no matter what.

After sensing that he was catching up, Crimson reached and pulled his Sith lightsaber free from his belt. Holding the handle off to the side, he sensed the rider turning to come around to a stop ahead. Crimson pulled his own bike to a halt as well and listened as his opponent revved up the engine loudly, almost challengingly. The silhouette then raised its right arm and the sight that followed startled him. A blade of pure red light erupted from its forearm and was held out.

Also revving his engine in reply, he narrowed his eyes and pushed down on the activator button. A sudden hum and crackle of energy assaulted his ears as a blade of ruby red energy formed from the emitter of his own saber. Holding it out to his right, he stared down his foe, also making the engine of his speeder bike sing.

"So," he thought to himself, "you're the one who's been plaguing my visions? I guess that I now get to see the man behind the shadows!"

Only a dead calm existed between the pair of strangers as they watched one another from across the dunes. Both were waiting for the other to make their first move so they could figure a way to get an upper hand. But only so much of this waiting was tolerated. Feeling the tension in their muscles reaching its peak, both of them roared the engines a final time before riding towards one another at full speed.

Sand kicked up in their wake and sabers blazed in the night that enveloped them. Neither combatant deviated from their path. The seconds ticked by in a blur and before they knew it, under the rolling, starry night sky, both of these foes finally crossed swords.

Crimson watched the image of this villain grow closer and in an instant, the blanks from his dreams cleared up. He observed the waving of his enemy's loose, dirty bandages trail behind his head. But once he saw no features on this man's face, only the triangular eyepiece that stuck out, he was sure this was the creature that haunted him; for some reason he had foreseen the battle beforehand, but why? Was it possible that the dark side was trying to warn him?

Shaken back to the matters at hand, he saw the bandaged warrior already bringing his sword down to strike but Crimson was quick to respond in kind. The block was expert and well done but this Sith was trained just as well. A flick of his arm as they passed by one another and Crimson felt his own bike shutter under him. Moving a good distance away, he snarled as he looked down and saw that one of the handles of his bike was glowing red-hot and had been severed in half. Any closer and that might have been his leg.

"Bastard." He muttered between his teeth and looked up to see his opponent already charging for another attack. "All right," he whispered and slammed down on the accelerator again. Speeding off towards him, Crimson shouted to the wind, "no more games!"

Riding directly at him, Crimson waited until he was at just the right moment. The villain raised his sword arm into the air to strike Crimson again, but this fallen Jedi proved to be trickier than he appeared. At the last second before they would cross paths, he suddenly dropped his arm to the side, hopped onto the seat of his bike and leapt towards the oncoming Sith. He half spun in mid-air and delivered a bone jarring kick straight into his opponent's chest. Added with the speed at which he was going, Crimson knew that it would hurt.

Crimson landed with ease upon the soft ground just as the two bikes grazed each other and came to a noisy stop. Turning his head, he barely caught sight of his enemy sliding across the sandy dune on his back. But after he finally watched him come to a stop, Crimson pulled Yeniz's saber free from his belt and walked up slowly to the figure that started to stand.

Keeping a safe distance away, Crimson kept his two, deactivated sabers to his sides and called out to the Sith as he finally stood. "Tell me who you are. Why did you lead me out here?"

The Sith rolled his shoulders gently as he finally turned to face Darth Crimson. His black hair whipping up in the breeze, he ignored it and only focused his bionic eye, which now seemed to flash to red, on him. Brushing the sand off his shoulders with his one hand, he never took his eye off Crimson and raised his now ignited saber. The blade was produced from the spot where his right hand should've been.

A dark laugh echoed from his covered throat as he waved the lightsaber mockingly from side-to-side. "My name…is Darth Ravage. And I led you out here for one reason, and only one. To kill you and reclaim my place!"

"Place?" Crimson asked with confusion. "What 'place' would that be?"

Ravage grinned under his bandages and slowly began to circle around him. "Do you really think that you're Darth Gryphon's first apprentice?"

Crimson narrowed his eyes as he slowly turned to follow the Sith's movements. Pulling his robe off, he let it slip off his shoulders and fall silently to the ground. With that he activated both of his lightsabers with a loud hum.

Laughing at his reactions, Ravage gently nodded his head. "That's right, I was Gryphon's first student! Though he left me for dead, I know that if I destroy you, he will finally give me the recognition I know I deserve!"

He could only shake his head as he slowly began to put his footing into position. Keeping his sabers ready, he carefully began to speak. "I think that maybe you should've taken the hint the first time. But I'm fair. Walk away from this Darth Ravage. I don't want to be forced to kill you, but don't think for a second that I won't."

"You can try." Ravage said mockingly and held up his arm. The red glow of his blade illuminated his bandaged face. "What you don't realized, Darth Crimson, is that I've been watching you for quite a while now. I've been keeping records of you with surveillance droids. Every time you've fought, I'd have it saved on holodisc to study. I know your techniques inside and out, Crimson. You don't stand a chance."

Crimson smirked as he kept following Ravage with his eyes. "Wow, I didn't know I had such a fan. I'm flattered."

"Don't be." Crimson could feel the tension rising in Ravage's muscles and knew that he was going to strike. "I'd rather you died!"

Suddenly springing forward, Ravage lashed his arm surprisingly swift towards Crimson's throat, but his blade was only met with a fierce crackling from another blade. Crimson tried to use this move to his advantage and kept Ravage's saber blocked off to the side while he reared back his second sword. Bringing it down fast he suddenly lurched forward when the Sith slipped away from his sabers and delivered a strong kick to his chest.

Stumbling back, Crimson could feel it coming on again. His teeth clenched tight and veins popping up from the side of his neck, a veil of red soon washed over his entire field of vision. Common sense quickly melted away as he glared at Ravage with fiercely glowing eyes. He watched as Ravage came in for another attack, his saber aimed directly for his heart. But in this enraged state, the former Jedi did not back down. Waiting for the split second when his foe's sword would pierce his flesh, Crimson quickly twirled his blade up, deflected his strike, and rammed his knee directly into Ravage's ribs. He could hear the throaty growl of pain leave his throat and quickly swung his saber to slice through the Sith's skull. But again he was only met with air as Ravage rolled away to regain his footing.

"Is that your best?" he laughed darkly and began to stalk around Ravage. "I'd be embarrassed to call you my apprentice too!" He couldn't help the beast that was overtaking him from the inside out. Only wrath and passion existed in him now.

His muscles twitching from the insult, Darth Ravage re-ignited his lightsaber. "This fight has only begun!" And into the fray he rejoined.

Auras of red and green flashed in the barren desert as these two warriors tried to use every last bit of their will and strength to strike the other down. Sabers sizzled threateningly against one another and the flesh itself was scarred and bruised from kicks and repeated falls against the desert sand. Neither of the two combatants could get the upper hand on the other and only succeeded in striking air or merely grazing the skin.

Crimson snarled as he blocked another of Ravage's swipes

with his green saber and held him tightly at bay. His arms burned as he forced Ravage backward until he could get a clear shot at his enemy's chest. But a quick sidestep and his blade only charred the skin of the Sith's arm before he went on the attack again. Crimson felt himself being beaten back by Ravage's lightning quick strikes, but despite that, his rage kept urging him on. His blocks and parries matched Ravage's attacks blow for blow. The flares of light were surely seen a great distance away as they kept equaling each other until Ravage acted in desperation.

Distracting Crimson with a dangerous spin of his body, he quickly ducked down and seized a handful of the sand from the dune they fought upon. Then, as the fallen Jedi came in for another attack, Ravage released the handful straight into his eyes.

"Ahhh!" Crimson shouted as a blurry pain overtook his sight.

Struggling to see his foe again, he peeked out through the corner of his eyes just in time to see Ravage coming at him once more. Summoning his body to move faster, he tried his best to step away from the strike but it was too little, too late. A blinding pain ripped through his shoulder as he felt Ravage's lightsaber pierce through flesh and bone.

Darth Ravage mockingly laughed as he edged closer and whispered. "Does that feel good, Crimson?" he asked and turned his saber torturously in Crimson's arm. "That's the kind of pain that keeps a heart beating and a will strong! That is the pain that kept me alive until I could hunt you down and take what's mine!"

Crimson cringed as he eyed Ravage harshly. His eyes flashing with pain and hatred, he suddenly planted his foot firmly against the Sith's stomach and kicked out. Both shouted in pain as Ravage fell back and Crimson stumbled backwards. His arm burned so much that it hurt just to grip the handle of his lightsaber. But he wouldn't relinquish his hold on it. Glancing away from the green blade, Crimson leapt at the fallen Ravage and brought both of his sabers down in a blur of pure strength. Though his blades were met with Ravage's own sword, he kept forcing them down, pressing Ravage's own lightsaber to his throat.

Ravage shook as he tried to force his arm to remain steady. "Damn you Crimson! You don't deserve this power! I do! I'm the one who's suffered for it!" Throwing his knee up, he struck Crimson in the stomach and shoved him back. As quickly as he could he flipped backward, onto his feet so that he could put some distance between them. He needed to catch his breath again.

But Crimson was already up. The red in front of his eyes was growing even fiercer as he glared at Ravage. "So you keep saying. But enlighten me," he muttered with a bite in his voice. Slowly he twirled the sabers in a threatening manner. "How did you…piece yourself back together again? From what I can see of your 'replacement parts,' all wounds you sustained must have been quite extensive. Especially the face."

Taking the time to regain some strength, Ravage slowly began to circle along with Crimson. "Gryphon's base was rediscovered by smugglers only hours after he left me to die. They're the one's who pieced me together, intending to sell me into slavery. But they finally realized what a mistake that was!" Leaping forward he swung his saber, just barely missing Crimson's stomach in the process. Blocking another of his attacks, Ravage recoiled and kept his eyepiece focused on each of Crimson's move. "After I was healed enough, I slaughtered them all and finished the repairs on my body by myself." He grunted as he slipped around another strike and kept a careful distance away. "I have persevered, Darth Crimson! If all it takes is your death to help me reclaim my role as a Sith, then so be it!"

Crimson said nothing while he spoke and only watched Ravage with his fury still burning in him. He felt something different in his power this time around. Slowly he felt the rage-filled electricity coursing through his body. It seeped in every crevice of his muscles and bones until it seemed like his entire form was on fire. He finally sensed it! The true power that lay dormant in him for so long was unleashed!

Scoffing at Ravage's speech, Crimson grinned and spit off to the side. "Pathetic. That's all you are, Ravage! Pathetic! You're little more than an obsolete machine that's been pieced together with delusions of grandeur! You say it's your right to ascend by Gryphon's side as his student? Wrong! It's my path to surpass him and achieve the revenge that needs to be wrought! And you, Darth Ravage…are merely a small stepping stone for me to take!" Spinning his sabers a last time in his hands, he caught the glare of the rising suns of Tatooine and narrowed his eyes. "Let's you and I finish this!"

"Fine by me!" Ravage growled and moved into position. His whole body seemed to be flaring thanks to the speech that Crimson delivered.

Crimson lifted his green blade and pointed it towards him. "I gave you the opportunity before. Give up now. This is your last chance."

Slowly he stalked closer and Ravage whispered in his raspy voice. "There can only be two: the master and the apprentice. And I shall reclaim my position!"

Staring each other in the eye, both Crimson and Ravage watched closely with sabers drawn. Carefully they waited, noticing the slow intake and outtake of breath, feeling their hearts beating and listening to the breeze as it danced like an excited child around them. Both saw the rising suns over the horizon but still they waited. Like statues poised for battle they seemed lifeless and unmoving. But as soon as the first rays of light struck them, a final war cry trumpeted. Charging straight for each other, Crimson wielded his twin blades and Ravage reared back his own.

Each strike and turn was calculated but both seemed to be, again, caught in a stalemate. Crimson spun expertly, blocking high and low, sidestepping Ravage's quick chops and thrusts and even deflecting his opponent's saber to scorch the very ground. And when he went on the offensive, the same results greeted him, but as the fight when on though, he could feel a change in the scales. With every strike, Crimson was sure that he felt his power growing. The dark energy that fueled his body drove him on to slash harder and faster. Soon his senses proved to him that Ravage was indeed weakening. Every blocked blow was depleting his enemy's strength more and more.

But the losing Sith would not accept this. Feeling that he was beginning to fail too, Ravage summoned up the last of his power to once more catch Crimson off guard. Focusing all his darkness to a single point, he laughed deeply in his mind as he slid Crimson's sabers off to the side and quickly shot out his open hand between their bodies.

There was no time for Darth Crimson to react. He heard that quiet, thunderclap and then felt his muscles spasm from the sudden surge of electricity throughout his body. Weightlessness engulfed his mind momentarily before he came to a crashing halt on the sandy dunes once more. The pain was intense but with his rage, he ignored it and found the will to stand. His body twitched under the skin but he showed no weakness as he stared across to the mocking Ravage, his saber ready and his only hand crackling with more energy. Crimson could only feel wrath. It was then he noticed that both his sabers had been inadvertently thrown far aside; one to his left and the other to his right. Seeing as he had little time to move, Crimson followed Ravage's example.

"Now, I'm afraid," Ravage whispered and held out his hand again, "that it is time to end this!" Quickly another stream of purple lightning flew from his hand, directed straight to Lord Crimson.

But with another flash of light and a boom of thunder, Ravage felt a pressure as he urged his attack on. Staring in disbelief, he watched as Crimson held back his attack with a surge of dark lightning of his own while he slowly made his way back up the dune. Ravage was easily dumbfounded that Crimson displayed this kind of strength and tried to pour more energy into it, but he could already feel the pressure growing with each step Crimson took.

The fallen Jedi smirked malevolently as he held Ravage back and stepped closer. "Your arrogance has blinded you to your true self. You're weak! Gryphon was right to discard you!" Crimson edged closer, the electricity sparking madly and flying off in bolts in all directions. The hum of the opposing energy was deafening, but not so much that Crimson couldn't be heard. "And I'll prove it!"

The power he now displayed seemed to be limitless. Energy flew fiercely over their shoulders and tingling their skin, crackling so loud that they couldn't even hear their own thoughts anymore. And for all the force that Crimson had, Ravage could feel it. Slowly his body wavered under his weakening limbs. But try as he might and how much he wanted his place back, he just couldn't keep it up any longer. Before he knew it, he could feel his arms being pushed back as he fruitlessly tried to fend off Darth Crimson. But it soon became more than this Sith could handle and his arm dropped to his side.

That was the only opening that Darth Crimson needed. Suddenly cutting off the surge of lightning he was emanating, Crimson watched Ravage lurch awkwardly in exhaustion and shot his hand off to the right. It only took the smallest of efforts to make his half buried saber fly directly to his hand. As soon as he ignited the blade of blood colored energy, Crimson sensed Ravage make one last attempt to end his life. Turning as the blade weakly came towards him, he easily knocked his arm to the side, causing Ravage to spin. Crimson then seized him from behind and wrapped one arm around his shoulders and pulled the other, holding his red saber, in front of Ravage's chest.

All of it was over in one, enraged motion. Darth Crimson, with his saber pointed under Ravage's chin, suddenly ran his blade up and all the way through without a second thought. There was a quick gurgle of pain and a twitch of limbs before it was finally all over.

It took a few moments before Crimson finally came to his senses and saw what he had done. Staring at the lifeless, rag-doll body that Ravage had become, he slowly pulled his blade free and regained a calm, steady breathing. Silently he let the fallen foe drop to the ground and took a shaky step backwards. As that curtain of red finally lifted and in its wake, Crimson felt so weak he wanted to drop to his knees. But he didn't. With another flick of his wrist, Yeniz's saber floated up into the air and returned to his waiting hand. Attaching them both to his belt, Crimson stood under the suns of Tatooine and stared with weak eyes at the body of his enemy.

He had just slain another follower of the dark side and finally tapped into the pureness of his Sith power. He felt only passion and seemingly limitless strength coursing throughout his body now, but as he looked down at Darth Ravage, he could feel the heaviness in his heart. Ravage was crazed with delusions of power he thought he possessed.

"Am I not acting the same?" he asked quietly and turned his head towards the direction of Mos Eisley. It was time for him to head back. But before he would take a single step to the remaining speeder bike, Crimson turned back to the body of Ravage and pulled a saber free from his belt. With a hum of his red blade, he slowly walked over to the body a final time.

The morning heat was fierce as it beat down upon Crimson's back. But a pure numbness was overpowering him as he rode his bike into the hanger bay. His clothing was scarred and several wounds could be seen on his body through his tore tunic, but none of this seemed to matter to him. Moving past the protesting manager who didn't want his bike in here, Crimson rode all the way towards the familiar starship and killed the engine.

He heard nothing except for the calm, steady beat of his heart as he climbed off the bike and grabbed his black robe, which was now bundled up tightly. Heading for the Ragnarok, he could already see Darth Gryphon waiting for him. Again that knowing smirk was on his face.

"Hello, Crimson. I have the access codes from Anara. Where have you been?"

Standing at the bottom of the landing ramp, Crimson glanced up to Gryphon before he slowly shook his head. "You knew…didn't you?"

Gryphon, his arms crossed over his massive chest, walked down the ramp slowly and shrugged his shoulders. "About what, Lord Crimson?"

"About Ravage." He replied softly. "You knew, all along, that Ravage had been trailing us. That'd he'd been planning to kill me." Walking up to his master, Crimson raised his head to stare him in the eyes. "This was a test, wasn't it? That was why you didn't believe me about my visions. You wanted me to be off my guard when I fought him."

The master cracked another smirk as he watched his apprentice and unfolded his arms. Nodding his head gently, he tucked his thumbs into his belt and stood casually. "How did you figure it out?"

"The fact that I could sense him and you, supposedly, couldn't. And…" he stopped and reached into a pouch on his belt. After a moment he produced a small, worn device. "…I found this, a comlink with messages from you on it. You told him we were going to Tatooine. You told him I would be waiting outside the cantina and it was even you who supplied him with the surveillance droids to keep an eye on me. You were egging him on to fight me."

"Yes," Gryphon said casually, "I did."

"How long ago did you contact him?"

"I found him trailing us a year ago. I could sense your power was growing so I made a deal with him. He was still weak but he would pose as the perfect test for you."

"You set me up to murder him. You knew I could defeat him so you sent him on a suicide mission."

"He was becoming a nuisance, so I decided to handle it for good. Besides, I had to test if you were ready or not, Lord Crimson." Gryphon smirked and clapped him on the shoulders. "And I can see, since you came back, that you are. Only with pure, life or death battle, could you take that final step into the dark side. Only by battling with your passion alone could you become true and powerful. And it pleases me to say that finally your training is over Darth Crimson. You…are now a Sith."

Nodding, Crimson gave a heavy sigh before he moved past his master and climbed up the landing ramp of the starship. While it was true that he had figured out the fraud, he really felt no malice towards his master. He felt nothing and even less did he feel surprise. After all, deception is a kept weapon of the Sith. All he really cared about now was that he finally achieved the power he needed. And he intended, with every fiber of his being, to use it against Darth Vader.

"Lord Crimson."

He stopped at the entrance of the Ragnarok and turned back to face Gryphon. He watched him wordlessly as his master followed him up the ramp and nodded to his folded up robes. "Yes?"

"What is that?"

Crimson glanced down and stared at the bundle momentarily. Without a sound he tossed it into Gryphon's hands and walked into the ship. But as Gryphon began to unwrap it, he called back from the interior with a weary voice. "Hopefully something I will never become."

Gryphon watched his apprentice disappear into the starship and continued to unfold the robes. Pulling away another layer, he paused as he stared at the contents. A breeze was seeping in from the open roof that made the crop of dusty, black hair shake gently, giving each strand a last semblance of life. Gryphon could only smile wider, exposing his teeth as he pulled back another fold to reveal Darth Ravage's severed, bandaged head and dim, triangular eyepiece.

Staring at it mutely for a few moments, Darth Gryphon wrapped it up in the black cloth again while he made his way into the Ragnarok. Once inside, an amused smile curled on his lips as he nodded his head. "Yes, I did choose the correct apprentice."

With those satisfied words, the landing ramp of this starship retracted and closed its doors before finally lifting off from its spot. The engines flared bright and loud as they lifted the Ragnarok out of the Mos Eisley hanger bay and into the blue skies above Tatooine. With a burst of power, this Sith starship tore out of the atmosphere and into the cold void of space. And it was only after a few moments of drifting that it jumped to light speed, heading to it's next and final destination: the heart of the Galactic Empire…Coruscant.