-Chapter 109: Of Magic and Mayhem-

Location: Dathomir

"Mysticism is no replacement for a trusty sidearm."

As Wraith's transmission ended, Dooku switched channels and opened a new communication. A few moments later, Reaper answered.

"Report, soldier." He commanded. "The Wraith has given me his report of non-interaction with Lux Bonteri's endeavour on Carlac. Can you confirm?" Reaper knew the truth and also knew that Wraith had lied. However, his compatriot's willful willingness to do so made him curious, enough to further the lie.

"Yes sir. He was completely compliant with the mission directives." Reaper responded. Dooku accepted his report, his calmly spoken words offering no hint of deception.

"Very good. Return to the Dominance when possible." He stated, promptly ending the call.


The sounds of grunting and exertion, accompanied by the thwack of hard contact, filled the training wing of the Dominance. Alone against a punching bag, Wraith delivered, sharply accurate jabs into the bag, working off some compounding frustration. His experience on Carlac was days behind him and yet the tension between him and Ahsoka still weighed heavily on his shoulders. He tried to vent his anger and turmoil on the bag, his wrists and knuckles bound by straps as he unloaded blow after blow into the dense construct. All the while, Ahsoka's words plagued him.

"Tell me this: is this what you're fighting for? You're fighting for people who'd kill those seeking peace? You told me on Mandalore you believe in peace. Do you? Or was that another lie?"

His blows came quicker, his strength amplified by the Force as his emotions bubbled like water in a cauldron.

"You've left him an orphan! And for what?! Because you were ordered to?!"

Sweat dripped down his forehead, his hair clinging to his skin. He grit his teeth as fury coursed through his veins, every memory of Ahsoka and Lux driving him to thrower harder and harder punches.

"Deception? You're gonna lecture me on deception?! After you lied to a room full of people, including me?! Hypocrite."

Feeling hot and boiling over, Wraith reared back and delivered a final, massive jab that tore clean through the seam in the bag and knocked it off its hook. The bag hit the ground like a deadweight, sand pouring out through the hole in its side. Snapped out of his fervor, Wraith slowly straightened out as he realized his session had come to a definitive end. His fury still simmered, not yet fully worked out of his system. He needed something else, something to unleash his pent-up emotions on...

It was then that the entrance opened and the black-clad Reaper entered the room, tugging off his helmet as he did. At six-foot seven-inches tall, Reaper had between three and four inches on Wraith that made him look even more impressive. His black hair was buzz cut, close to the scalp, and his grey eyes were piercing and haunting. A patch of cybernetics was stitched to the right side of his head, as though actually plugged into his brain. His face was not nearly as angular as Wraith's and was more squared off, like he would've been very stocky if not for his enhancements that made him so tall.

"Am I interrupting?" He jokingly queried, seeing Wraith heaving by the destroyed punching bag.

"Not really." Wraith mumbled, starting to unwind the straps from around his hand. This workout had come to a definitive end. "Been busy?" He wondered.

"Running an errand for Dooku." Reaper answered, setting his helmet down near some weights.

"Fun times." Wraith mused, tossing his wraps aside as he fetched a towel. "Who'd you have to kill?"

"More like who am I going to kill." Reaper joked and Wraith shared it.

"Banshee tells me you spent some time training her." Wraith queried as he cleansed his face of sweat. Reaper nodded.

"After she was finished with the militia, she came to the same special projects lab on Xagobah, where I had just finished my trial runs. They immediately paired us up, figuring a couple of newbies could help each other out." He explained.

"So how old does that make you?" Wraith wondered.

"Twenty-eight." Reaper answered. Wraith whistled.

"Well, you've certainly got at least a good decade on me."

"So I heard. Out of all of us, I'm quite confident I'm the oldest." Reaper agreed. Throwing his towel around his neck, Wraith took a swig from his nearby bottle, downing a vitamin drink.

"So... what brought you to the Separatists?" He casually asked. He knew Banshee's reason, that being the loss of her homeworld, and wondered what brought Reaper into this. "Better yet, why become a super-soldier?" Reaper fell very quiet, his gaze distant as some memory unknown to Wraith was conjured up in his mind. Wraith was about to apologize for asking when Reaper spoke again,

"It wasn't exactly by choice. More like... circumstantial proddings." He quietly admitted. Wraith could both see and sense that this was a hard topic for him to cover.

"If it's too much, you don't have to-"

"No. I... I want to... I need to." Reaching for his belt, Reaper produced a small holoprojector and toggled it. A single still-frame image flickered into clarity moments later, revealing Reaper in civilian dress, looking quite a bit shorter, standing beside a very beautiful Rutian Twi'lek as he held a much smaller Twi'lek in his arms, obviously a child. "My wife, Hirani. And our daughter, Tann." Reaper explained. "They... They're my universe. My everything. I'll spare you the gory details, but... Hirani's the love of my life. I love her so very much. And our daughter, well, she's probably the best thing to ever happen to us." For a moment, it seemed obvious. Reaper was a family man, fighting for his wife and child to ensure their future would not be under the Republic's influence.

But then his story took a twist.

"When the war came to our home, we stayed inside, tried to be safe. Then a Vee-Nineteen Torrent was shot down... and it crashed into our house. I survived, barely. When a squad of Clones came to check on their pilot, they pulled him out... and didn't bother to check for survivors." Reaper paused, his words sinking in as he took a breath to steady himself. "I buried my family alone the next day." He revealed, staring longingly at the image of his wife. "That was when I decided that the Republic did not care about life like they claimed to." The hard-hitting fact was a real blow to the atmosphere and Wraith realized that his comrade, just like Banshee, had lived through the cruelty of war. His experience had pushed him to fight for the Confederacy.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Wraith proffered.

"Me too." Reaper quietly agreed as he tucked the holoprojector away. Wiping his eyes and taking a breath, he continued, "I used to work for the Techno Union, so in the aftermath, I was working on getting medical coverage and all that when my bosses approached me and asked me if I wanted to participate in the special projects division on Xagobah. I said yes... and this was the result."

"So... they crammed you full of gear?" Wraith wondered.

"Oh yeah." Reaper affirmed, tapping the plate on the side of his head. "Custom neural interface, microscopic nanites, a metal epidermal coating molecularly bonded to my skeleton, I've got it all." He listed off. Wraith whistled again.

"You must have a holonovel of an owner's manual." He mused and Reaper chuckled.

"I guess you could say that." He concurred. After another pause, in which Wraith deduced that recalling his past was something that weighed heavily on Reaper's shoulders, the super-soldier turned to him with a fairly serious look in his eyes. "Look... I don't really like to talk about my family-"

"Say no more, friend." Wraith stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I get it." This was hard for him and he wanted to move past the hurt, not remember it. "Just know that, if it ever gets difficult, you can talk to me." Since Reaper was his brother-in-arms, Wraith felt bound and determined to be there for him. His fellow super-soldier nodded in thanks, appreciative of the gesture. The door slid apart and a fully-armored Banshee quickly entered.

"Reaper. Wraith." She spoke their names with an urgency that prompted both to give her their full attention.

"Banshee, what's up?" Reaper wondered.

"Doctor Scipio needs all of us in the briefing room; Count Dooku has a new assignment for us." She informed them. Wraith and Reaper shared a quick glance of understanding, both of them realizing they needed to get ready. Wraith was more than eager to engage in something with his teammates. Hopefully it would provide him with another outlet for his emotional buildup...

"You two go on ahead, I've got to get in a quick shower." He stated, quickly collecting his things as Reaper grabbed his helmet and followed Banshee.


Dooku's mission for the super-soldiers was simple. The Nightsisters of Dathomir, led by the mystical Mother Talzin, had offered Dooku one of their Nightbrothers as an apprentice: a powerful Zabrak by the name of Savage Opress. But it was swiftly revealed that Savage was intended to assassinate Dooku and not be taught by him. The Zabrak escaped, but Dooku did not forget about the treachery of the Nightsisters.

He wanted the super-soldiers to eradicate the entire clan.

They were charged with joining General Grievous and Durge as part of a larger task force that would destroy the Dathomir coven and eradicate the Nightsisters. Having received their briefing in full, Wraith piloted them to Serenno where the Invisible Hand awaited them and set down inside the main hangar. There, Wraith, Banshee and Reaper were greeted by the cyborg General Grievous and the cybernetic General Durge.

"Long time no see, kid!" The Gen'Dai boomed as he clapped Wraith on the shoulder.

"Perhaps too long, Durge." Wraith agreed as he greeted the towering ex-bounty hunter. "I look forward to fighting by your side once more."

"Looks like ya brought some friends this time." Durge noted as Banshee and Reaper stepped out.

"Indeed. May I introduce you both to my brother-in-arms Reaper and my sister-in-arms Banshee. Both super-soldiers like I am and both just as dedicated." Wraith introduced, both of his allies standing at attention and saluting.

"At ease, soldiers," Grievous rasped, "with three of you, the Nightsisters will not stand a chance against us. They will truly reap what their traitorous actions have sown."

"Speakin' of which, whadda we know about these schuttas?" Durge asked, a far less-refined man in terms of galactic understandings.

"I too should like to know more about these 'Nightsisters'." Banshee agreed, having known very little beyond her homeworld. "They sound like they would come from my native Umbara."

"They are witches who live only on Dathomir." Grievous simply replied.

"There's a measure of mixed fear and respect for them across the galaxy." Reaper added, knowing a bit from stories and historical texts. "But that's all I know." Wraith, however, knew plenty more about the clan. He knew the former Asajj Ventress had once been a Nightsister, before becoming a Dark Jedi and Dooku's apprentice, and thus had done some research early in his career.

"Nightsisters are Force-sensitive, like Jedi, except they channel their abilities through magical spells and hexes." He explained. Banshee cocked her head.

"Does that make them more powerful than Jedi?" She queried. To that end, Wraith did not know a great deal about Nightsister magick.

"To an extent. But their magicks limit them, as well. My understanding is that it takes time to conjure a powerful spell. Anything simple and easy to unleash is less harmful." He stated in response.

"Regardless, we should proceed with caution." Reaper surmised.

"Agreed."

"I say, bring 'em on!" Durge cackled. "They line themselves up, we'll jus' knock 'em down!"

"A correct assumption, Durge," Grievous agreed, "and for that, we must plan our strategy. Come, soldiers, we have a holomap to study." The cyborg had neglected to mention the survival of Ventress and her part in the Nightsisters treachery, seeing as most of the Separatists believed she was killed during the Battle of Sullust. This fact continued to remain unknown to the super-soldiers, even as the Invisible Hand and its battle fleet jumped into hyperspace...


From space, Dathomir was a red world shrouded by mist and shadow, appearing ominous and even eerie from afar. Some had said that the world was truly beautiful on the surface, a weaker gravity enabling the local fauna to grow to impressive measurements. Wraith theorized that might've been true once, but since the Nightsisters had made a significant claim to the world, Dathomir had likely been consumed by their power.

The entire world reeked of magick. But the influence of the Dark Side was even stronger. He could sense it.

The five leading Separatists were aboard the fleet's C-9979 landing craft, one for each, that descended to the planet while covered by a squadron of Vulture starfighters escorting Hyena bombers. Their landfall went unhindered, all five of them touching down and disgorging their legions of droids and armored tank divisions without interruption. The Vultures and Hyenas flew further ahead, strafing and bombing the coven to soften up the sisters for the impending arrival of the Confederate army. Mother Talzin and her sisters quickly discerned what was going on and prepared themselves for battle, fleeing to the refuge of their mountain fortress.

The landing craft touched down in a clearing and Wraith prepared himself for battle, offering a silent prayer to the Dark Side as the ancient Sith Momin had recommended. Everything I do today, I do for the Dark Side. Grevous' order to deploy came soon after and Wraith marched down the ramp with a company of B1 droids following smartly behind him. Lines of B2 super droids were activated and formed up alongside him as tanks and armor's divisions flanked his growing column. Above, a fresh squad of tri-fighters screamed past overhead, disappearing into the fog of Dathomir as they made to join the Vultures and Hyenas still hounding the distant Nightsisters. The environment was dark and foreboding, knurled and twisted trees reached high above the ground, long branches interlacing and adding to the spooky atmosphere. Wraith adjusted his scanners to max as his spectroscopic suite shifted to night vision as a means to improve his sight.

"Establish a perimeter and get the droids in attack formation. We'll burn a path straight to their fortress." Grievous ordered and the super-soldiers moved to comply.

"So this is Dathomir," Reaper mused over the comms, "not exactly a welcoming atmosphere if you ask me."

"Indeed. There is an evil about this place I do not like." Banshee chimed in. Wraith was less worried about the potential of the Nightsisters, as he was eager to go into battle and unleash the stress and frustration that had been building within him since Carlac.

"Either way, be careful and look alive. Remember Dooku's orders," Wraith commanded, drawing his carbine and charging it, "not a single Nightsister is to survive. Expect heavy resistance and clear a path for our droids."

"Copy that." Reaper growled as he drew his blaster rifles. The average trooper would've required both hands to hold such large weapons. But Reaper had what it took to dual-wield two simultaneously. Banshee concurred as she charged her sonic emitter and drew both of her battle pistols, all three super-soldiers ready to advance as Durge took the air with his heavy repeater at the ready.


The Nightsisters, meanwhile, had regrouped as the leadership of Mother Talzin and Ventress prepared them for battle.

"The droid army is here because of me." Ventress determined, disappointed she did not foresee this eventuality. "And so many are going to die..." she felt responsible for this and bound to defend her sisters.

"There is no time for regret," Talzin encouraged, guiding Ventress' face towards her, "now we must fight." Her resolve was strong and the Elder Nightsister held a power that no battle droid could ever match, of this Ventress was certain.

"That gutless coward Grievous is coordinating the attack," Ventress realized, "I can sense it."

"You know the droids. It gives us an advantage." Talzin mused and Ventress agreed. Tri-fighters suddenly dove low from overhead, guiding twin Hyenas as they peppered the fortress entrance with their cannons. A missile struck the base of a pillar and dropped it on an unsuspecting Nightsister.

"Karis!" Ventress cried, quickly using the Force to throw the debris off of her sister. She cradled the dying woman in her arms.

"Go... and lead us to victory..." Karis whispered as her body went limp. Ventress closed her eyes as she felt the spirit of her sister vanish, then opened them as a steely resolved filled her. She laid the body down and looked up as the droids broke through the forest and unleashed volleys of devastating blaster fire upon the defending Nightsisters. The crimson clad witches fought back with energy bows, violet arrows striking droids with similar force to a blaster bolt. While their counterattack was slow, their shots were precise and very effective.

The super-soldiers took note and sprung into action, Reaper advancing first as he laid down withering fire with both of his rifles. The targeting systems in his visor and retinal implants allowed him to fell several Nightsister archers in quick succession before his actions prompted knife-wielders to spring up and engage him. They drew closer than his blasters could compensate so he cast one aside, a prototype E-series carbine by BlasTech, and drew his machete from his belt. Twin knives, imbued with magical properties, clashed against his blade. The Nightsister was talented, but his power won out as Reaper forced her guard high so he could unload several shots from his DC into her torso. Another attacked him on his right and Reaper dropped his rifle to take the twin blades against his arm, popping the blade stored their and lashing back with a powerful swing that literally threw the witch off of him. She remained staggered long enough for him to plunge his machete through her back, the tip of the blade popping out of her chest as blood splashed the ground.

Banshee was quick to fire, green salvos of energy streaking through the air and forcing the Nightsisters to take cover as she scampered in close. Two peeked out from behind their tree and loosed twin arrows that became embedded in Banshee's chest, the Umbaran shrugging them off as she snapped up her arm and unleashed waves of sonic energy that forced the Nightsisters into submission. As the ruthless sonic waves wore off, their ears ringing, both sisters looked up to see Banshee dropping down, the blades of her lightsaber gauntlet lit and humming. The twin blue sabers carved clean through the tree as well as their necks. Rolling to her feet as the tree collapsed, two more arrows hit her chest with a thunk, Banshee promptly snapping all four of them off before her twins blades were lunged through an archer as well as the sister behind her.

Having long-since forsaken his carbine, The Wraith was in full attack mode, his chain-blades gripped tightly as he carved through the Nightsisters opposing him. One had a blade driven through her head before she was impaled on a tree, Wraith promptly tearing the blade back to him and swinging it wildly as he carved up another with trails of blood splattering the ground. Both blades were soon launched out as he impaled another before swinging her body around and pitching it into more approaching Nightsisters. This was what he needed, the rush, the fervor, the outlet to completely vent. It felt good. Really good.

Mother Talzin summoned her magicks as a green aura enveloped her, quickly ballooning outwards as she formed a protective shield around herself. Her magicks flowed into her hands and, with a screech, she unleashed torrents of green lightning that felled a line of battle droids in rapid succession.

"By the twin moons!" Banshee gasped. "I see now what you mean, Wraith."

"She's just made herself a priority target." Wraith responded as he plucked his weapons from a freshly-made corpse. "Circle their defences. Durge, draw their fire."

"Can do!" The Gen'Dai dropped to the ground and quickly opened fire on the main Nightsister line, heavy, belt-fed rounds pounding the terrain as the witches took cover. Mother Talzin remained undeterred as his salvo harmlessly ricocheted off her protective field. Ventress watched with keen eyes. So Dooku as more super-soldiers. She thought. She had met the first one, The Wraith, a long time ago and knew what he was capable of. Three of them would mean that she and her sisters would require more to overcome them.

"We will need an army to defeat them!" Ventress determined, ducked down alongside her sisters. That gave Talzin an idea.

"I will speak with Old Daka. She will give us the reinforcements we need." She promised. Ventress confirmed and ignited her lightsabers, leading the charge as her sisters counter attacked. Durge quickly took the the air as a hail of arrows became embedded in his armor, droplets of his blue blood hitting the ground as he put some distance between them.

"Uh, since when do Nightsisters carry lightsabers?" Reaper wondered as the leading figure tore through his line of battle droids.

"Here's hoping it's an uncommon thing." Wraith mused over the comms. "Continue as planned, I'll handle her." His blades disappeared into his duster and Tyth was in his hands seconds later. Surging through the trees, Wraith hit the attacking witches like an out of control freighter, his firesaber carving through them with deadly precision. The leading sister turned about only to find those closest to her cut to pieces, or completely incinerated as their was filled with their ashes. Her appearanced shaded, not even his optics could discern her looks from the shadow of her hood. Their blades met in a fierce and tempestuous series of strikes and parries, the combat swift and tireless as battle raged around them.

"Take him down, sisters!" She cried, and for a moment Wraith thought her recognized her voice. He had to forgo his wonderings as multiple witches pounced on him, blades in their hands or magicks empowering their blows. One by one he swept them away until he drove his blade into the ground and unleashed a shockwave of fire that forced them all to the side various burns scorching their bodies.

"End of the line, witch." He growled, firesaber tightly gripped.

"That remains to be seen." She responded and quickly bounced away from Wraith, leaping into the trees as she summoned the Force. Wraith gave chase, tasking Reaper and Banshee with continuing the assault. If he could prevent this one from felling more droids, they would all be better off, even if it meant he wasn't directly involved.

The Nightsister push continued, Ventress' orders for them to take to the trees and attack from all angles proving effective against the droid's superior numbers. The super-soldiers would not be outdone, though, and fought back even harder as the arrows grew more numerous and the blades came ever quicker. Reaper's armor was soon stained with the blood of Nightsisters as his machete chopped them to pieces, Banshee's was riddled with broken arrowheads as her sonic emitter unleashed piercing screams of pure sound that drove the witches to their knees before they joined the severed corpses of their sisters that lay in her wake. Thanks to his regenerative abilities, Durge remained an unstoppable force. His flechette launcher riddled witch after witch, their blood watering the ground as they fell still with dozens of razor-sharp projectiles piercing their skin. His flamethrower held other witches at bay, those unfortunate to be close enough reduced to ashen corpses, their dying screams in lingering in the air as chemical fire consumed them. His flail, spikes deployed, ripped through their ranks, tearing skin from bone as he brutally tore the Nightsisters to pieces with wild swings.

From his position aboard the landing craft, Grievous was continually updated on the growing assault.

"Sir, we're reading heavy resistance along the eastern flank," a droid reported, "the fighting is fiercest there." Grievous anticipated this and had brought along a specific tool to render the Nightsister's homeworld advanatge ineffective.

"Send in the Defoliator tank, we'll burn those witches to the ground!" He thundered.


Within the stronghold, Mother Talzin ordered her aids to fetch an item of great importance from her chambers while she held an audience with one of the most powerful witches in her clan. Some Nightsisters could live for centuries if their power was great enough, and Old Daka was the oldest in Talzin's clan. Her residence was sealed away, accessible only through a powerful spell that could great the necessary gateway, a spell known only to Talzin and a select few. The green portal revealed an aging Nightsister, sitting alone and surrounded by various artifacts to enhance her mastery of witchcraft. She was ornately clad with the grey trappings of respected Nightsister, one whom even a clan mother like Talzin respected.

"Daka! As the oldest and wisest of us, I need you to resurrect our fallen sisters." Talzin asked as Daka regarded her with aged eyes, whose physical sight was limited but her spiritual gaze was broad and insightful. There was still a fire about her, her body weakened but her connection to the Force and her magicks as strong as ever. "Ventress will need the aid of the undead army to achieve victory."

"She may need more than even the undead," Daka whispered, "I sense a power unlike any other has come to Dathomir."

"You mean the droids..." Talzin suggested.

"No. Something far worse. A harbinger of the Fanged God." Daka revealed and Talzin gasped. As part of their religion, the Nightsisters worshipped the Fanged God and Winged Goddess; representations of the Force itself and keepers of the spirit world. Among the Nightsisters there had existed many prophecies, portents and foretellings of the coming of one with the power of the Fanged God, one who would unleash fire and wrath upon the galaxy.

"It is not his time, is it?" Talzin pried.

"No. But his path is not yet set. He may not know who he is, as I do not. But he is here." Daka replied, her senses keen and enabling her to see many things. Though she did not fear whoever this harbinger was, she was willing to offer the aid Ventress needed. "I will begin the chant of resurrection." Her tone shifted, darkening as it grew gravelly and otherworldly, her words uttered in a dialect unique to Dathomirian witchcraft as she began to recite the spell and allowed her magick to flow. An orb before her shifted its glow from orange to green as a misty cloud flowed out into the world, guided by Daka's dark words. It wove through the mountain stronghold and past the many trees before slowing to branch off and encircle the many bulbous sacs that hung from its branches. "Rise... Rise! Awaken dead sisters! Rise!" Daka's command floated on the air as her magick seeped into the burial sacs and forced the corpses of long-dead Nightsisters to the ground. Their the clouds of green lingered as they filled the bodies and reanimated them, giving them a new lease on life for a moments time. Broken bodies stitched themselves back together as they rose, zombified Nightsisters releasing unholy shrieks that filled the air as the army of the dead was gathered.


Banshee, Reaper and Durge continued their onsluaght as the droids were joined by the Defoliator. Heavy shells arced through the air before slamming into the ground and consuming the terrain with a shockwave of fire. The nimble Nightsisters quickly took shelter behind protruding rocks as the defoliation waves reduced organic material to fiery ash. It boxed them in for a moment, allowing the super-soldiers to close the gap and slay many more witches. Joined by tanks, their assault was relentless, the clan slaughtered in droves.

But then the cries of the walking dead reached the ears of Banshee, the terrible sound filtering through her audio receptors and sending a shiver up and down her spine. Her technologically-produced ultrasonics had nothing on that noise and she lingered for a moment to listen and watch, her lightsabers humming idly by her side. From the gloom, the zombies moved with freakishly unnatural speed as they joined the fight, guided by Daka as they attacked the droids with sharpened claws and jaws long and unhinged. Their strength was unparalleled, the droids torn to pieces as they surged through the Confederate ranks. Their assault on the droids enabled the Nightsisters to commandeer a nearby tank, whose guns they turned on the Defoliator and destroyed with a few direct hits. The droids started running thin and Banshee and Reaper found themselves back to back against the relentless horde.

"What manner of hell is this?!" The Umbaran cried, having never witnessed such a sight.

"They're just corpses, Banshee. They died once and they can die again!" Reaper called out, his twin rifles back in his hands and mowing down anything that wasn't a droid.

"Right. Let us put an end to such foul things once and for all!" She vowed, charging her emitter to its peak frequency and then unleashing a powerful blast that levelled most everything close to her.

"Durge! Torch them all!" Reaper shouted into his comms.

"Don't have to ask me twice!" The Gen'Dai responded as he dropped down and unleashed a blazing stream of chemical fire from his wrist. The undead fell easily, the living Nightsisters having a little more acumen to avoid his assault.


Wraith had chased the saber-wielding Nightsister through the woods, their blades clashing periodically as he tirelessly pursued her. She was nimble and agile, leaping from branch to branch with effortless ease. But he was a ruthless tracker, bound to his quarry until he had caught them. It was this determination that inspired his cunning and prompted him to develop a plan.

He calculated her angles, watching the pattern of her leaps unfold, selected his target and timed his strike, summoning the Force to guide Tyth and he hurled it through the aide. His spinning wheel of fire zoomed in on his branch of choice and Tyth severed the wood well-before the Nightsister landed, causing her to lose her footing and tumble to the ground. Recalling Tyth to his open hand, Wraith swooped down on her as her twin red blades clashed with his fiery one. He pressed his advantage, his immense strength straining her. The light cast by their blades illuminated the face under the hood.

The last time he'd seen her was on Jabiim, but he still recognized that face.

"Ventress?!" Wraith gasped, suddenly backing off. "Bu-... You're supposed to be dead! We were told you died!" He cried. Ventress pounced to her feet.

"Then you were decieved, soldier. For Dooku knew of my survival for some time." She responded through gritted teeth. Their blades clashed again, Wraith on the defensive this time.

"Wait, stop! Tell me, please!" He begged. "I'm... What happened?" The fact he would so willingly lower his guard and virtually plead with her for answers gave Ventress pause. His lightsaber was lowered, he was no longer on the attack. The former-Separatists decided she should know the truth, so long as he remained under the Sith's employ. She would not give him every single detail, though, only those that mattered.

"Dooku and his master, Sidious, did not like how powerful I had become... at least that is what I believe." She explained. "They tried to kill me, but I survived and fled here."

"And... Dooku found out... so he wants you dead?" Wraith wondered, slowly trying to tie things together.

"That would be after I tried to assassinate him alongside Savage Opress." Ventress clarified.

"He neglected to mention your involvement." Wraith rumbled, realizing he had essentially been lied to... again.

"I can't say as I'm surprised." Ventress huffed. "The Sith are hungry for power and control, soldier. They do not like that which expands beyond their grip. I was perfectly loyal, obedient and dutiful... yet they turned on me because they believed I would usurp them one day. But the thought had never crossed my mind." Her words conveyed the innocence of her situation. She had been everything he was currently, and then they struck without warning, throwing her away when she least expected it.

Would the same become of him?

"Take my advice, soldier, and run while you can. It seems my old masters have some new toys to play with, you will not be missed." Ventress suggested. But Wraith couldn't do that. What few people realized was that he legitimately believed in the Separatist movement. His loyalty had never been to the Sith in charge but to those who sought a better life outside the Republic's corrupt society.

"I do not serve any man, but the Confederate movement and the people behind it." He stated.

"And what happens when that dedication gets you in trouble with the Sith? Will the people you serve be there to save you the day they decide you're just a loose end?" Ventress asked. Her pessimism was well-founded and Wraith could not argue with it. Perhaps he would find a way to overcome such troubles if... or, more accurately, when they came his way. It was only a potential situation for the time being. He would deal with things as they came.

"Wraith! We're being overrun!" Banshee suddenly called through his comms. "The Nightsisters... they have reinforcements!" Deactivating his saber, Wraith turned and allowed Ventress to leave. But he was starting to heavily question them...


As the battle raged on outside the stronghold, Mother Talzin had enacted another plan while on the inside. Using a lock of Count Dooku's hair, she had fashioned a doll that was tied to his spirit and used a cauldron of potions to cast great agony upon Dooku from across the space between them.

In his private study on Serenno, Dooku suddenly fell ill as boils broke out across his forehead. A sickness gripped his mind and the Force revealed to him his tormentor.

"Tal-zin..." He growled, clinging to his mind as his body was wracked with unbearable pain. Grievous and the rest needed to end the clan now, before Talzin claimed him as a final victim!


The super-soldiers continued to fight back against the Nightsisters and their undead army, surrounded on all sides as the blood of many Dathomirans soaked the ground and their armor. Ventress, however, circled around to Grievous' command ship where the cyborg General was waiting for her.

"Surprised?" She wondered, a cunning smile gracing her lips.

"Hardly. You are the one I was sent here for!" Grievous declared, shrugging off his cape.

"Then fight me alone. Prove you're the greater warrior," Ventress offered, "if I win, your army leaves. If you win, the Nightsisters will surrender to you." She was playing to his ego, using inflated odds too good to pass up. As anticipated, Grievous took the bait with a cackle.

"I've always been better than you!" With four lightsabers in hand, his arms split in two as the General quickly assumed his fearsome four-bladed stance. Spinning his hands, Grievous advanced on Ventress with a guard of green and blue to secure his path. Having contended with his abilities once before, Ventress knew that Grievous might always outnumber her... but not necessarily outwit her.

Talzin's ritual was going as planned, Dooku's effigy dropped into the cauldron as the Count writhed in terrible pain on Serenno.

Wraith rejoined Durge, Banshee and Reaper's struggle against the swarming undead, Tyth flaming brightly as he hewed down zombie after zombie, his thought briefly returning to his misadventure aboard the Bravado with Ahsoka against the infected crew. Thoughts of her filled him with regret and longing, but the sting of her words on Carlac turned his sadness into anger and then strength and he powered through the Nightsister assault alongside his fellow super-soldiers.

"You think you can defeat me? You are nothing!" Grievous roared as he powered through Asajj's guard with all four blades. The Nightsister was quick and ruthless, her blades a crimson blur as she attacked Grievous. But the General was just as fast, his mechanical body able to move a split second faster than her and his strength was double whatever she could bring to a fight.
But he lacked the cunning she had and so Ventress managed to cleave through one of his arms and put Grievous on the ground. She smirked triumphantly, only for Grievous to laugh. "Kill her!" He ordered his B2 supers, laughing in confident victory as Ventress was suddenly caught in a crossfire from over two-dozen battle droids. She had no choice but to divert her attention and defend herself, blocking incoming shots from left and right until one struck her shoulder and downed her. Grievous moved in for the kill only to be set upon by the swarming undead and he turned his blades against them, cutting them to pieces while others tried to scale his body.

Ventress was helped away by a still-living Nightsister, only form them both to crumple as a pair of B1's shot her in the back. Ventress quickly pushed them away with the Force and turned her fallen sister over, the witch gasping as her life ebbed away.

"Doom... is upon us, sister," she coughed and Ventress saw similar motions to when Karis died, "run... save yourself." She gasped, falling limp in Ventress' arms. There went another life that she could not save, another death she had brought to her clan... her family.

But she was right. She had to save herself. If only to live long enough to avenge them later.

Wounded, Ventress limped into the mists of Dathomir, her departure unseen by the preoccupied battle droids. Grievous himself finished disposing of the zombies swarming him when a dying Dooku called him, gasping for air.

"Grievous... you must stop Mother Talzin... before she kills me!" He rasped, doubling over as pain gripped his insides "Follow the witches magick... it appears as a green mist... Follow it to its source... eliminate Talzin, quickly!" The communication ended and Grievous turned his gaze skyward. Set against the scarlet heavens was a long green bolt, leading back to the Nightsister stronghold. Another zombie pounced upon him and Grievous crushed its body within his mechanical grasp. One more tried to fell him, only for the irritated General to rip it limb from limb before crushing its head under his mechanical claws.

"Durge! Soldiers! Make for the stronghold and slay the witch Talzin!" He ordered in a new communication. "Count Dooku's life depends upon it!"


"Dooku's life?" Reaper repeated, killing one more Nightsister with his DC-15LE. "How is Dooku in danger?"

"Dark Side magick is a gateway to many unnatural things. It wouldn't surprise me if Talzin had such a method to afflict him from afar." Wraith mused, pulling his blade from the corpse of a witch. Maybe the Count was overdue for some hurt after all his deception and trickery, but that thought he kept to himself. Like he'd said on Zygerria, he preferred Dooku's leadership to that of Sidious. "Inside. Hurry!" A final wave of Nightsisters rebuffed them at the stronghold entrance. But the super-soldiers had been through enough combat today for their motions to be fluid and executed perfectly. They were in sync with one another, their skills and abilities honed after fighting side by side.

Banshee dropped the Nightsisters with a burst of ultrasonics, allowing Reaper to mowed them down with his red-hot blaster rifles. An explosive disk from Wraith blew their lines open, buying Banshee time to race within their ranks and cut several witches to ribbons. Wraith quickly rounded her back, his shield deployed and blocking several arrows from the remaining Nightsisters. His distraction offered Reaper the opportunity to charge them, his blasters across his back in favour of his arm blade and machete which quickly turned the stone floor red with witch blood. Another burst of ultrasonics stayed another line of Nightsisters long enough for Banshee to kneel, Wraith boosting off her back as he slammed Tyth down in a fiery arc that cleaved a witch cleanly in two. He caught another by the throat and crushed her neck with his bare hand, a boot slamming into the face of another as he smashed her skull against the nearest wall. Durge brought up the rear as Grievous arrived with the remaining forces, the Gen'Dai brutally executing any Nightsisters still alive after the super-soldiers had torn through their ranks.

They moved deep into the stronghold, following the trail of green mist. It led to a wall of stone, seemingly impenetrable. "Banshee, low frequency pulses in a single beam pattern." Wraith quickly ordered, allowing his partner to step up and adjust her emitter. Training her arm on the source of the magick, Banshee hit the wall with a steady stream of sonic energy, the stone cracking and crumbling as it was vibrated to pieces at its very molecular structure.

The disturbance forced Talzin away from the ritual and to the source of their trouble. The wall had come down and Wraith and Reaper had burst into the room, their blades quickly slaying the two Nightsisters with her and Daka. Banshee followed and another pulse of sound destroyed Talzin's cauldron as Reaper made for Daka.

"No!" The witch cried, still locked in the chant of resurrection and unable to fend off the hulking super-soldier as Reaper drove his machete through her chest. Wraith made for Talzin, the clan mother summoning her magicks and casting them into Wraith's mind. She sought to curse him, to hold him off long enough for her to spirit herself away. But Wraith pushed back her invasive presence as he allowed his Force sensitivity to flare, inadvertently creating a feedback loop that allowed Talzin a glimpse into his mind...

She saw light and darkness, broiled in conflict, slowly merging yet also rejecting one another. He was chaos, his future shrouded in darkness. Unrevealed to Wraith, Talzin alone saw visions of fire and death and destruction... and a great winged beast that offered a bone-shaking shout to the heavens.

"You..." she gasped. "It's you..." Daka had been referring to him. He was the one who would bring the Fanged God's malice to the galaxy. He would fulfill their ancient portents...

But there was one more thing she saw... something about his path that would forever rock the galaxy...

At last, Wraith pushed her from his mind, but had not the faculties to attack. Banshee quickly helped pull him back as Durge entered the room, he and Reaper attacking Talzin with blasters bared. The clan mother allowed her body to dissipate into a cloud of green and vanished without a trace, leaving the Separatists victorious.

Outside, Daka's death reduced the reanimated bodies to mere corpses again, the living Nightsisters significantly outnumbered as Grievous and his forces advanced. The droids showed no mercy and the Nightsisters were slaughtered entirely, the whole clan dead by the time Grievous was finished.

On Serenno, Talzin's defeat brought a merciful end to Dooku's suffering. A green mist was expelled from his body as the boils lining his head began to recede, much to the Count's great relief.


In the aftermath, the remaining Separatist forces regrouped as the last of the Nightsisters were hunted down. The three super-soldiers convened before a single holocom as Dooku imparted his congratulations.

"You have done well today, soldiers. The Confederacy is proud to have such powerful allies on its side." He applauded. "I too offer you my deepest thanks for saving my life."

"We are honored, sir." Banshee responded, crossing an arm across her chest and bowing as Wraith and Reaper mimicked the motion.

"Return to your ships... but not you, Wraith. There is a matter I must discuss with you." Dooku instructed. The super-soldier remained as his allies moved onwards. Once they were confidently alone, Dooku began again. "Now that the source of such treachery has been dealt with, I need you to deal with one final end."

"And what would that be?" Wraith pressed.

"My would-be assassin, Savage Opress, roams the galaxy. He may be aimless or he may have a goal, you must find him and deal with him." Dooku stated. "I do not care how long it takes or if you must abandon it for another mission, when you find Savage you must end him. I task you with this because of your... additional abilities." He clarified and Wraith knew he was referring to his Force powers.

"I'll get right on it, sir." He promised.

The Separatists left Dathomir in a state of chaos and destruction, the remains of an entire Nightsister clan left in their wake. Save for a wounded Ventress who stumbled across the terrain, aimless and without a purpose. She tought by embracing her past she could fin a new meaning in life, only to have her past life come and rob her of it. Now she was alone...

But Ventress was not the only survivor.

Having witnessed the carnage and the demise of her sisters from a safe distance, Merrin fled into the wilds of Dathomir with only her skills to aid her. The young Nightsister would remain in hiding until well after the Separatists left the planet. The memories of today would forever stick with her, the carnage, the chaos, the death and the suffering, as well as the two hulking behemoths made of metal... and their three demonic allies who led the bloody charge.