Many thanks to those who reviewed. Many interesting speculations which, while mainly incorrect guesses, are encouraging to me that at least my writing is getting people thinking up potential plot points where the story might, or might not, go. ~F
Chapter Forty
Gathering
Johell had spent a very long time by himself after being released to move about the Jedi Temple as he pleased, not out of a forced separation from others, but simply wanting to bask in isolation upon the peace and light of the Temple as he was afforded. He had made several requests during his stay in the low security detention facilities in the base levels of the Temple, minor things that he had grown to like during his time on Korriban, but nothing that would hinder his recuperation to the Light.
The pair of faceless Temple guards assigned to him were as friendly as their sub faction was allowed to be, and even though Johell had no idea who they were under their masks, they were always available for him to talk to if he felt the desire for light conversation.
Mostly he enjoyed long mornings mediating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains before a light meal, followed by whatever meetings or appointments had been made by the Council to glean every scrap of information they could from him about the Empire, which Johell was more than willing to give.
After that the repenting Padawan usually sought to spend a short time in the archives, sometimes just browsing, other times researching something that had been discussed earlier in the day, before attending an evening meal in his quarters and winding down to sleep.
A simple existence to be certain, but one that was working quite well, he supposed, in balancing out his standing in the Force after the horrendous trials he had been put through.
It was only in his dreams that he was not at peace however, as once sleep overcame him, Johell was returned to the hell that had been the desert world of the Sith ruins, with Zhar or the Emperor around every corner, ready to inflict a new horror upon him. Many nights he awoke in a cold sweat, with the subtle laughter of the Emperor still echoing in his mind.
Johell was not deaf to the rumors flying around the Temple. Thankfully none were regarding him, but the word was that the Empire was building for something major, and the power of the Dark Side was swelling in the Galaxy. Johell could feel it somewhat himself, but he was actively trying to resist any influence of the Darkness, so he suppressed it innately.
Not that he was able to blot all of it out. In those early hours of the morning when the sinister laughing of the Emperor would keep him up, Johell could still sense it, the pulsating menace of the dark Holocron down in the vaults of the Temple, almost seeming to call to him. It horrified him to no end, as he knew barely any of the terrible secrets that that object might contain.
He had asked about it, once when Master Coven had come to visit him, but the small Jenet had drooped in sadness and he instantly regretted even mentioning it. "That object has resisted the attempts of any Jedi to access it, even to confirm whether it is actually the Holocron of Darth Veneficus." she had responded, "If you are feeling some sort of draw to it, I would highly recommend you forget all about it and stay as far from it as possible. With Sith Holocrons, it is not in their nature to give safe information away to just whomever, especially one who had activated it before."
And Johell had tried very hard to obey that counsel, but every time he was in the archive, he felt his eyes momentarily drawn to the doors of the Holocron Vault, thankfully guarded and unable to be appropriately accessed without a member of the Council present.
It was a safety net that Johell was very grateful for, as the desire to look once more at the face of his old oppressor, even to just rub in the fact that he had escaped, was growing by the day, and he wondered if this was some sort of withdrawal-like symptom brought out of him by his steady rehabilitation to the Light Side of the Force.
But for now at least, he was holding on, keeping himself to his busy schedule and making sure that there was as little stress around him as possible, despite thoughts of what he was to do once he was declared clear for full return to the Order.
Hopefully there would still be some sort of plan to ease him back into the role of a Jedi, perhaps duties here in the Temple for a time, before any sort of active duty that took him beyond the scope of Coruscant. In his own mind, joining the fight against the Empire was out of the question, as the temptation to use the Dark Side would be far too near, and some of the mind healers that he regularly spoke with vehemently agreed with him.
Something steeped in the Light would be ideal for him, perhaps assisting to train the newer generations or even just as an aide to one of the Council, finishing his training and being knighted in several years and then, they would reevaluate his condition.
They were worthwhile goals, and something that Johell found very desirous to accomplish. So he pushed himself just a little bit every day, trying to slowly work his way back to his old life, but it came slowly. His emotions were very unstable, and he would have drastic mood swings if there was too much noise or too many conflicting ideas in the Force. Often he would retreat to his room just to wait out some burst of rage that had no place in him, but he more or less remained in control.
The process would be slow, but Johell was determined to succeed for the sake of the other Padawan who sacrificed himself for him.
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Zhar overlooked the volcanic planet of Mustafar, easily locating the mass of Force energy that indicated where the Dark Adepts were seeking Veneficus' mysterious artifact. Their fleet had had to take a more scenic route to avoid some of the current hotspots of the war, not to mention the large segment of Hutt Space which was still something of an unknown.
Zhar was aware that they had been agitated when one of the outpost worlds had been seized by the Empire, but as of yet no retaliation had been forthcoming, so for the time the Empire maintained a hesitant state of nonaggression with the mercenary and pirate empire, waiting for the slugs to make the first move.
Still, nothing had happened to their fleet during transit to the lava covered planet, which seemed all but devoid of any real life, aside from what creatures managed to thrive on its surface by sheltering themselves away from the oppressive heat. His apprentice looked somewhat grim, yet the force rang with the tense preparedness as they disembarked from orbit to land at the main Sith compound, which was an old, captured mining facility for what Zhar could only guess was underground magma, as he doubted that much else of importance could be found on this dead rock.
The assembled officers and handful of troopers that had come to greet them saluted as the two Dark Side Adepts walked down the ramps from the shuttles. They were all wearing some method of breathing masks to protect them from overexposure to the burning ash in the air, but ushered Zhar and his iridonian companion into the shelter of the compound as quickly as possible.
"It is most fortunate that you arrived so quickly, my Lord," the chief officer, a Colonel, said once they were inside and he had removed the mask covering his mouth, "all the other Adepts that were assigned here have gone ahead, and none returned from the enclave that they were sent to explore and recover artifacts from."
"Yes, surprisingly I read the report as we journeyed from the capitol," Zhar replied condescendingly, walking past the foolish soldier and looking out one of the few window ports, the thick glass barely able to be seen through with the thick coating of ash and grime, but he could still just make out the towering spire of the ancient Jedi Enclave in the distance.
The Empire had intentionally set down and taken this location as one of the closest places to the enclave itself, which still posed as extremely convenient to Zhar, that the Emperor had been aware from the beginning of this supposed item that they were to seek, but had not made mention of it sooner, such as when they took control of the planet so long ago, rather than wait till now to attempt to seriously recover it.
Better still was the fact that whatever artifact it was, it seemed well guarded enough that there was little way that the Emperor could have learned of it from some rumor or direct report from the planet, as clearly no one even suspected such an item was here.
Certainly there was a level of mystery and unspoken secrets surrounding their glorious leader, but Zhar was not currently in a position to waste time contemplating why or how, when they had a mission to attend to.
"How long does it take to travel to the enclave?" he demanded of the officer, who hesitated only a moment before informing the pair of Darksiders that it merely took a few hours to traverse the lava strewn rocks by speeder and arrive at the ruins properly.
"Good, then we will be taking one of your speeders to do just that, and get started on our mission within the hour." The female apprentice looked eagerly in his direction, but Zhar ignored her, just as he had since they had left Korriban, and smirked at the spike of anger he felt through the Force. She'd have to learn that she had to impress him to get any sort of reaction out of him by now. She was mediocre at best, and it would take hard work for her to prove herself in his eyes, after the trio of extremely talented apprentices he had trained, aside from the failure of the final one.
Zhar chose not to wait, but proceeded directly to the small speeder hangar when the Colonel indicated the correct direction, choosing one of the few with a covered top so that they had fresh oxygen to breathe on their journey. There would be more than enough ash and dust within the enclave to choke their lungs upon without damaging them before even arriving with the poisonous plumbs of acidic smoke that sometimes erupted randomly across the volcanic wasteland.
All along the way, the pair noticed fools that had tried to traverse the way before them, and had failed to even so much as reach the structure. "So this is where we keep throwing so many adepts away to, and here I thought we were in a war or something," the apprentice said sarcastically, but Zhar did not respond, even if he completely agreed. The Emperor should have sent a trained superior from the start, claim the artifact, and been done with this madness, rather than throw away so many useful lives that could rather have been put to use fighting the Republic.
However, as much as he may disagree with the Emperor's policy, he had to accept that it was the course that would best push forward the goals of the Empire, as trusting in the Emperor's vision had yet to steer them wrong before, and it was still most unwise to challenge the objectivity of the Emperor when it came to running his holdings.
Although Zhar had lately seen much more delegation than there previously had been, but perhaps that was primarily due to the Emperor being physically upon Dromund Kaas, and having so much to do in running an Empire as well as maintaining moral of his subjects during this time of conflict and death.
To be fair though, Zhar was more than sure that Veneficus cared very little indeed for the whims and swaying favor of the unruly masses. Like any true politian, he played their hopes and fears to his own ends, rarely following through too much on what the people wanted, only enough to keep them asking for more and offering their loyal support.
His musings had to end when the speeder suddenly tilted as they started ascending the stone ramp of the ruined enclave. Volcanic eruptions and geysers of toxic vapor seemed to have destabilized the foundation, and the entire building was cracked in several key structures, leading to the entire structure seeming to be ready to plunge off the nearby cliff into a river of lava far below.
Even still, they were not alone as their speeder halted in front of the shattered doors that led inside. Robed and armored figures started to emerge from the gloom of the shadows, their eyes gaunt and their bodies moving in slow, jerking motions that seemed completely unnatural.
Fixing a breath mask to his face, Zhar snatched up his weapon and leapt out of the speeder as soon as the top was removed from shielding them from the outside air. If these former servants of the Emperor wanted to rebel, then he would show them the price of their betrayal.
The apprentice hesitated, and Zhar counted it against the girl as she chose to park the land speeder before emerging herself, but then pushed all thought of her from his mind, instead focusing on his new opponents. It was clear that these were the Dark Adepts that had come previously, but whatever had happened to them was warping their thoughts and vision.
Many were muttering to themselves incoherently, and seemed to be walking more in a daze then by any actual design, although whatever puppet master that was controlling them was indeed attempting to use them to fight Zhar off, possibly sensing that he would not so easily be controlled.
Sabers ignited, but whatever was controlling the other adepts was unable to accurately force them to wield their weapons, as the movements were so slow and clumsy that Zhar dodged far more often than actually blocked, barely even bothering to return an attack at the small horde of mindless beings. With a little luck, he would be able to free their minds and save the valued resource that they represented to the Emperor as well as claim the prize they all sought.
Several more practically tripped over themselves in their vain attempts to halt either Zhar or his apprentice, as the pair wove through the assembled mob toward the enclave's entrance. There however, Zhar was forced to halt as more figures came, dreadfully different in their movement and intent. These sought to kill intruders, rather than merely follow orders.
More black robed figures, of a strangely different design and style appeared, shouting out and raising red sabers into the air, before charging at Zhar and his apprentice. Weapon at last flaring to life, Zhar whirled, parrying the first stabbing strike that came at him from the first of their four opponents, guiding the offending weapon away from his body before repositioning his blade and counter-stabbing, but he was both pleased and annoyed when his foe anticipated the move and fell back a step to avoid it.
These had been trained in saber to saber combat, and were quite adept. Swinging high, he increased the speed and power that he put behind his attacks, leaping deeply into the strength of Djem-So, battering the hastily raised defenses of his opponent. It seemed that these new figures had trained solely with Juyo, working toward a perfect mastery of the emotion-driven fighting style, but at the cost of not understanding the flow of a battle, and how one had to adapt to it.
Case and point, when one of his enemies tried to counterattack, and failed to see Zhar's immediate shift to a Soresu block, and back again to Djem-So counterstrikes, that he was put at the disadvantage as his saber was knocked harmlessly out of the way, even as the helmeted head was separated from its shoulders.
The others saw this, and rather than withdraw or even suffer from the demoralizing strike, they seemed to howl in fury through the Force, pressing to attack Zhar specifically, almost ignoring the iridonian apprentice, which allowed the female to skewer one of them in the back, gravely wounding the figure if not killing them outright.
Zhar battled with the final two simultaneously. He had to admit at least they were somewhat skilled in the art of combat, even if it would never hope to exceed his own prowess. Drawing on the power of the Dark Side, he hurled them both away from him, before throwing his weapon after one of the pair, watching in delight as the weapon found its mark in the being's torso, before withdrawing itself back to his hand with equal grace.
One left, and this one continued to fume and seethe with rage as he attacked again. Zhar bobbed to the left, sidestepping the strike as his opponent allowed his rage to control him, already becoming inherently weaker for it. Wishing to simply end this game, Zhar caught the next overreaching strike, twisting his weapon and guided his opponents lightsaber into a wide arc away from either of them, before drawing his own weapon in a straight line beck through, carving a deep slice through the middle of his foe, dropping the being dead.
Examining the fallen bodies proved extremely enlightening, after sheathing his saber. Zhar discovered many Sith trappings and devises, but each were somehow warped and distorted, as though making the deliberate attempt to separate themselves from the concept of the Sith, without abandoning the power that the true heritage granted; a vile hypocrisy and a dangerous heresy of the worst kind, to be sure.
The Emperor needed to know of this new development, if he was not already aware, and had planned this to come to pass. Pulling out his communicator, Zhar transmitted a connected through the orbiting fleet back to Dromund Kaas, nodding his head in reverence as the Emperor's face, almost completely shrouded by hood and crown appeared, "What have you to report, High Prophet," he asked without preamble.
"A great deal of things, your Highness," he said, understanding the unspoken fact that the Emperor was not alone, "there are other Dark Side users on Mustafar, in the very enclave that our Adepts were trying to infiltrate, and some state of befuddlement or hypnosis has come upon our people. I have eliminated four of their guards, but the markings suggest some sort of Sith apostate group, possibly from the time of the Brotherhood of Darkness or earlier. How should I proceed?"
Zhar could tell from the small smirk that the Emperor was pleased that he had made no casual mention of the artifact that they were hunting, instead playing out that he was sent here to investigate missing adepts instead. "That is most disturbing. A moderately large group I presume, if you chose to contact me instead of deal with them yourself without a plan. Heresy within the Dark Side is a matter for the Sith however, and one that I take very seriously."
The man thought for a long moment, as if trying to make an important decision, but Zhar already could tell that the man wanted nothing more than to be away from Dromund Kaas. Veneficus was a frontline fighter, not some background leader, and he sought battle as much as the next man. "I will be arriving at Mustafar soon," he said, seeming to stand from wherever he currently had been. "Await my arrival; none of these heretics are to leave their enclave until I arrive to return them to the fold…"
"As you command, your Majesty…" Zhar affirmed, pocketing the devise as the Emperor closed the communication.
"The Emperor is coming here?" the apprentice asked, sounding rather excited and overwhelmed that she had been so close to such a personal meeting between their illustrious leader and another of the Empire's higharchy.
"Not that it has anything to do with us," Zhar chided, sparing his apprentice a single glance. Honestly the girl was more a nuisance than anything. They withdrew from the Enclave, back to the command center at the mining complex, to await the arrival of the Emperor.
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Anguis couldn't have thought that anything would please him upon his return to Coruscant after effectively turning all of New Terra firmly to his side, and away from the Sith Empire, not to mention setting professor Snape on the trail of the last connection that that world had to the Sith, Theodore Nott, but waiting for him in his private residence was something that made him legitimately grin from ear to ear.
The little Astromech, Dobby, who he had sent out to scout the Jedi Temple so long ago, had finally returned, ironically looking better than when he had cleaned and modified it. Clearly the Jedi took better care of their droids than he had believed, but nevertheless, the Darksider now had extensive footage from within the Jedi's sacred edifice to review, and determine if there was anything in it that he could use to assist in getting past their defenses and striking at Trelawney.
It had taken several weeks to accomplish that task, all the while working with the Senate to increase military spending even further to allow more of their fleets to be manned and prepared for the eventual fight that Veneficus was sending at them. Anguis could already sense that the Emperor's great strike was coming, like the slow rise of the tide, set to wash over the Galactic Core in one fell swoop.
Still, he was willing to devote the time required when he could to studying the data that the droid had collected, and he was more or less pleased with what he found. Not only were the numbers within the Temple severely depleted due to the war and their own peacekeeping efforts, but out of all the witches and wizards, currently Trelawney was the last one at the Temple, Snape being delayed at New Terra by what Anguis himself had told him regarding Nott.
Even more curious was the young Jedi that was residing in the detention area of the Temple, thoroughly separated from his fellows for reasons that Anguis could only begin to guess at. He was unable to sense it through the recording and at the time there was too much overarching light side energy for him to pick apart and examine it on an individual level. Probably for the best, as that could easily lead to his discovery.
Still, if there was some way he could endear himself to this young man, who Anguis could guess was the same small blot of darkness he had sensed a while ago when Luna first returned without her Padawan, perhaps there was a way for him to nudge the boy along to a more self destructive path, and maybe take down Trelawney with him along the way.
If nothing else, it would be useful to make contact with someone within the Temple, a spy of sorts as to what the Jedi were up to. Carefully, he recorded a very simple and brief message to the boy, whose name had been provided by Dobby, and sent the droid back to collect more and deliver the data disk with his message to Johell in the bowels of the Temple.
Once the droid was busily on its merry way back to the Jedi's sanctuary once more, Anguis turned his attention to viewing the greater cosmos, studying the flows of the Force to try and foresee what Veneficus' next move might have been. The Jedi would have great difficulty with this, being slowly blinded by the great fog of war that loomed throughout the Force, but as a Darksider, Anguis was under no such restraint through the Force.
Within its swirling eddies he could see a great fleet amassing just out of the current sweeps of their scouts, but the curious thing was that the lurking darkness that commanded this armada was not the Emperor himself, but a very powerful subordinate. It was not one that he was familiar with either, which came as something of a surprise.
For the Emperor to keep something like that hidden from Anguis… could only mean that this was the madman's own apprentice, the being that had risen to somehow take Anguis' rightful place at Veneficus' side, the very incarnation of what had driven Anguis to overthrow the man in the first place.
Now that he knew this, his desire to see this oncoming fleet crushed was increased exponentially. He would take an active role in plotting out the movement of their defensive fleets to cause as much damage to the advancing horde as possible, to forcefully hinder their advance as much as possible, and hopefully put the Jedi in the best possible position to slay this true Sith Lord that was taking the valued spot that Anguis had always hoped to hold.
And in the meantime, he would send others still to go around this assault fleet and start stealing worlds back from the grip of the Empire, throwing off the massive powerbase and reasserting the dominion of the Republic. Truly this was to be the bloodiest part of an already extremely bloody war.
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Kelrek couldn't have been happier when they finally departed from Kashyyyk, and the forest world with its underbelly of horror and madness, and started transporting their prize back toward the Imperial Core. Unfortunately, they had not been able to go straight to the home world and deliver it, as they had their respective orders to fulfill, and there were worlds that needed to be fought for along the way, but in due time they finally exited Hyperspace over the familiar jungle world of Dromund Kaas, and started preparing shuttles to land just outside the great capitol of the Sith Empire.
Kelrek was hopeful that the Lords and Ladies that governed the biological research of the Empire would be present, as they often traveled to other Sith controlled worlds to see what effects the powers of the Dark Side could have on other life forms, as this was probably one of the most powerful specimens that they could hope to study.
Granted, if it was highly favored, the likelihood of Kelrek and the others returning to the madness of the Shadowlands to capture more… alive even… would be drastically high, but at least they would not be alone for that future endeavor.
Only waiting a few moments with the medical capsule keeping the corpse fresh for examination, Kelrek finally decided to take the initiative and enter the capitol's medical research labs himself to find the first specialized adept that would take an interest in these strange creature.
What he had not expected to find, upon entering the lab area, was for there not only to be three of the governing Prophets of Dromund Kaas that were devoted to medical Force related studies, but for two of them to be in a heated brawl with their Lightsabers while the third watched with an amused grin.
A Quarren was facing off against an Ithorian, each of their crimson blades flashing and sparking as they attacked and counterattacked; neither gaining nor losing any ground, as well as not scoring any particularly severe blows upon each other. The third, a Neminodian, actually noticed Kelrek's arrival, and turned to face him.
"Greetings, how might we be of assistance to you? I am Prophet Lomy Zhalto, and those two," she indicated the combatants, who were launching into another long string of accelerations, "are Prophets Saquesh Noloff and Dithul."
"Greetings," Kelrek said with a small bow. As part of the local council for Dromund Kaas, these three technically outranked him, even if they were merely scientists and fellow sorcerers of the Dark Side, "I bring a rare creature that I and my allies fought and killed on the world of Kashyyyk, deep in the Shadowlands."
"I creature from the Shadowlands you say? How exciting," said the Quarren, suddenly at Kelrek's right shoulder.
"But what exactly could it be, go on then, open the capsule and let us see it," added the Ithorian, looking over Kelrek's left.
How they had managed to stop fighting long enough to overhear what the others had been saying, Kelrek had no idea, and indeed it was also strange to see, not only Force users of the trio of species, but Darksiders of each as well. Especially the Ithorian, whose race was generally viewed as peace loving and gentle, but he refused to comment on it aloud. Instead, he obeyed, and unsealed the capsule, lifting the lid and revealing the frightful beast for the three to see.
The beast was still as hideous as before, the massive claws and fangs glistening with long dried blood of its previous victims. The trio of Prophets ooh and awed appreciatively, before lifting the carcass out onto a medical slab with the Force, preparing to dissect the creature and learn everything there was to know.
It was not a sight that Kelrek wished to see, so he bowed himself out of the lab, promising himself that he would return later instead to learn of their findings. It was probably for the best, as some argument or another started up again as soon as he reached the door, and the snap hiss of lightsabers heralded another brawl between the two male creatures yet again.
Kelrek sometimes wondered how it was that the Emperor had achieved for so many practitioners of the Dark Side to work harmoniously… or at least as well as possible given the nature of things.
Searching for his allies, who had like most of the ship's crew disembarked for a short rest on the planet's surface, Kelrek started for the closest cantina, knowing that if they weren't meeting with other officials and receiving their new assignments, Jenah would have directed Srilis into the closest one to try and relax from the madness of their previous assignments.
The Marauder was not cut out for long periods of patience, and their last mission had been to escort a terribly slow caravan of important equipment from a rocky mountainside settlement to the nearest spaceport, a journey of several steep miles, all the while terrorist and guerilla cells fought them every step of the way, trying to prevent the Empire from getting the technology.
The urge to simply push the entire caravan off the side of a cliff and be done with their task had quickly grown desirous, when the three Dark Adepts learned that not one of the beings they were protecting were capable of any combat, and wouldn't even have come without the promise of protection.
Kelrek had joked that they could always go back to war-torn Kashyyyk, which had withheld full defeat even when it was time for their fleet to depart, and that had cooled all three of their tempers. However bad escorting civilians was, it would not compare to the madness of fighting Wookiees, either the tree dwelling kind or the monsters that stalked the Shadowlands.
Kelrek found the two female Adepts quickly enough, in a side booth that allowed a wide view of the cantina as a whole, while simultaneously shrouding the three of them from detection unless they desired it.
Jenah slid a glass of something warm to Kelrek as he sat with them, and he downed the beverage in one swallow. "Any word yet on our mystery beast?" the Marauder asked, and Kelrek shook his head.
"They just started examining it, so I wouldn't expect any information for a few days at the least." He replied, which seemed to satisfy the other two.
"We aren't meant to depart back to battle for that long anyway, so we might get to learn what those things are before we join with the massive armada that's forming to push through to the Republic's Core." Jenah said, nodding appreciatively.
"Word is," Srilis added in a hushed tone, "that Darth Diábolis, apprentice to the Emperor, will be leading this important attack, and once we arrive and gain a foothold, the Emperor will be joining the attack personally."
"It's strange though," Jenah added, "how could we already be at the final confrontation, when there is still the entirety of the Galactic Core to conquer? This doesn't feel quite right to me."
"It doesn't," Kelrek agreed, beginning to sense the unease throughout the city, however minor it was, "but nevertheless, we follow the Emperor's commands. He has given us no reasons to doubt him yet, so we must trust his judgment and foresight."
The others nodded, seeing the wisdom that Kelrek had brought to their concerns. "Still, it seems strange that the Emperor and his Generals delayed so long, only to attack now, when it still feels like we have so much yet to accomplish. I mean, the Hutt Cartel is still a major threat that hasn't been even addressed."
"I trust in Lord Veneficus. He probably does not want to be seen the aggressor to the Hutts, and is allowing them the opportunity to change their minds and ally with us, or attack first and be retaliated against." Kelrek reasoned.
And he truly did, as the Emperor had never wavered from their overarching goals, not even from the time he had been the apprentice, back on that archaic world that they served Lord Millennial upon. There had been only one plan there, and there was only one plan now. Kelrek wasn't sure why Jenah or Srilis had to have so many reaffirmations of the Sith Lord's vision.
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Gor-lak followed in the wake of his advancing troopers, storming the manor and pushing the Republic troops from their holdings rather quickly. Fighters continued to sail overhead, bombing other exits to prevent their enemies from escaping except by the slow pain of death.
Just outside, a semi circle of Blast Cannons had been set up, creating a field of death to any that managed to get past Gor-lak's force and out on the causeway. But the ork knew that his prey, the Jedi and the Count, were to be within still, holding out to the very end in hopes that their reinforcements from above would come.
But it was not to be so. Gor-lak moved with deadly precision, cutting his way through both servants of the noble house and Republic warriors alike, emerald flames rippling with great effect and leaving a swath of destruction in his wake. The small vanguard of troopers that followed rarely had time to lift their weapons, let alone fire upon those foolish enough to cross the Lord of Cruelty.
Soon they arrived in a spacious ballroom of the Manor, which seemed to have been turned into a makeshift command center. And there in the middle, hovering around the display of the surrounding blocks and the battles taking place around the planet, was Count Malvern, along with his Jedi friend.
"Go, this is my fight…" the Jedi said, gesturing for the Republic officers to escort the Count away, before casting his brown outer cloak aside and stepping toward Gor-lak, saber in hand and alight, the pale blue blade shimmering in the semi darkness of the high vaulted room.
Gor-lak smiled behind the terrifying mask he wore. This would be a fight to remember. "Secure the Count, kill the Republic filth," he ordered his troopers, who departed as he walked slowly toward the Jedi, a Master of the Order clearly because of his composure and strength. The flaming blade Gor-lak held grew steadily brighter as he channeled more energy to it.
Once the pair of fighters squared off, no words were exchanged, as both knew the full purposes behind the objectives of the other. There would be no distractions, no retreats; a fight to the death between worthy warriors, just as Gor-lak would wish it to be. Striking first, Gor-lak swiped low, before channeling magic into a small green orb and launching it upward, catching the Jedi in the torso as he leapt over the fiery blade of his weapon.
The Jedi did a full flip as he fell backwards, landing on his feet and staggering for a split second, before recovering and advancing again, blade at the ready and all emotion drained from his face. Gor-lak waited, and was not disappointed when the Jedi struck next, hammering a barrage of blows down at him, hoping that his connection to their mystical energy would grant him the speed and power to overcome Gor-lak's magic.
But he had studied the ways of the Jedi for so very long, and manipulated his magic to mimic their 'Force' so that Gor-lak could, with concentration, experience brief periods of significantly increased speed and limited foresight.
He matched blow for blow with the Jedi Master, flames leaping from his weapon with each clash. Neither of them was willing to back down, and they ended up circling each other once, trading locations and trying to find openings in the other's defenses. The Jedi attempted to use his telekinesis, throwing Gor-lak on his back foot after a series of quick and displacing strikes, but the ork spirit jumped with the energy, putting more distance than the Jedi presumable wanted between them.
Even as the warrior-monk charged to close the gap, Gor-lak raised his free hand. Emerald lightning poured from it in torrents, and the Jedi was forced onto the defensive, his blade locked in the attempt to catch and redirect as much of the lightning as possible.
Nearly a perfect stalemate for their pair of them, Gor-lak thought, but it was only a matter of time. The Jedi's energy may flow from a source outside himself, but even their muscles had to tire. A mistake would happen. As a mere spirit within this host body, Gor-lak could not feel the effects of fatigue, even if he could sometimes see them as the body struggled to keep up with its commands.
A weakness of the human flesh, and one that he had works tirelessly to correct with much practice and training. Even still, he might have been slightly worried that his claimed form might tire long before the Jedi did.
Eventually Gor-lak allowed the lightning to disperse; it wouldn't be sporting to slay the Jedi with such a cheap tactic, and leapt forward with his flaming blade in hand. Swinging high, Gor-lak was forced to leap back and block as the jedi ducked and slashed at his legs.
The battle continued back and forth as the manor started to detonate around them, the fighting growing heavier as the Sith and Republic soldiers battled for every inch of the facility. "Even if you win, this planet is ours…" Gor-lak taunted, his face still shrouded from the Jedi by the mask.
"Even if that were the case, better for the Sith to lose one commander, and we can easily return with those that we save from this world to claim it after your empire crumbles to dust." The Jedi retorted, eerie calmness never wavering as he pressed the attack, azure blade clashing with the fiery green of Gor-lak's weapon.
This fight would have been over long ago, Gor-lak thought, if he only had his original hulking body. Sheer strength alone he would have broken through the Jedi's defenses and crushed him with life draining magic. As that was not the case anymore, he had to rely on more subtle skills. Pouring even more magic into his blade, the weapon started leaving momentary trails of powerful flames as he swung, adding a layer of complexity on the Jedi's part if he attempted to counterattack Gor-lak when he swung.
The Jedi found that out the hard way, as he attempted to spin around Gir-lak through a flow of the flames, and grunted in pain as the flames attached themselves to him, igniting the brown robes he wore and making the Jedi waste valuable time extinguishing the flames, while still poorly fending off Gor-lak.
Alas, it was not the distraction needed to finally end the Jedi, but it was a good first step into delving through what Gor-lak's body was fully capable of in full combat against his ancient enemy. Still, he was only just getting started, and this Jedi needed to die.
"Commander," said a voice on his communicator, "We've captured the Count, and executed the Republic commanders, as per your orders."
Gor-lak turned to silently look at the Jedi, knowing that the man had failed his charge to protect the Count, and had all but led his army to ruin. Still the warrior-monk was not dissuaded, and merely readjusted his grip on his weapon, ready to continue their fight to the death.
The ork spirit merely sighed at the foolishness of the sickeningly devoted warrior. He was sorely outnumbered, but would doggedly fight to just kill Gor-lak himself, as though he was one of the more important clogs of Lord Veneficus' war machine.
It was borderline insanity, but worked out to the ork's advantage, so he would be able to avenge himself in one instance for the fall of his ancient empire. Petty, to be sure, but it was a justifiable reason for him, and he would run with it until he found one that was better.
Gor-lak raised his weapon, ready to fight once again, even as the manor exploded around them.