So firstly I just want to mention the strange phenomenon that keeps occurring every so often, where just out of the blue across the board of my stories two or three different people will shove their upturned noses in and start flat out complaining that they don't like the direction I've taken via review... Now, I'm grateful for the numbers that these rather silly individuals give me through their useless attacks, but it still confuses me... why, if you honestly don't like the direction a story is going, and vehemently state so and that you are "not going to read anymore," would one even bother to make it public knowledge and not only not walk awy, but KEEP READING and complaining? Even more so, they're reviewing content that had been made and published half a decade ago, so it's not as though im going to magically go back and change it to please one person... clearly from the state of things that sort of opinion is in the vast minority, I mean seriously look how far this story, and Stormreaver and age of magic have come. Am I just overthinking this, or is there some sort of disconnect from reality going on here? it's just strange to me that it always happens in a wave, like these angry people come out of the woodwork like termites on a set schedule to troll everything they can before returning under the bridge from whence they came... If anyone has insight I would love to hear it.

Meanwhile, to those who leave REAL reviews, comprising of constructive criticism and advise for the future as well as just praise, I thank you for bearing with that little pseudo-rant, and encourage you to enjoy the next chapter! ~F

Chapter Nine

Challenges

It had taken a deal of time to do so, but Diábolis was confident that they had at last found the true tomb of Naga Sadow.

It was not the most grandiose of ruins that dotted the jungle world, but from initial scans the majority of the complex was underground, which in the Devaronian's opinion suited the mysterious Sith Lord quite well, as record had it that Sadow had been embroiled with nonstop shadow wars among his fellow Sith, even in the midst of the Great Hyperspace War with the Republic and the Jedi.

Despite the clear ignoble death that the once proud Sith Lord faced, it was clear that the Dark Lord had done great things worthy of remembrance, and that was what Skarok-Nur's followers sought to defile.

"I want a wide perimeter around this entrance," Diábolis commanded the troopers with them, indicating the small ruins that lay above ground, "and search for any other opens and guard them as well, Lord Fury, his apprentice and I will go inside and destroy or flush out these usurpers. Leave none alive."

"As you command, my Lord!" the troopers replied, thumping their armor as one in reply, and fanned out to follow their orders.

Fury and his troll apprentice stood ready to follow, and Diábolis took a deep breath, tasting the power of the Dark Side that existed in this place after so many years, and closed his eyes, trying to locate their prey more precisely within the tomb's depths.

It seemed as though great power had once existed within this tomb, but only a shadow and a whisper of it currently remained, as though the afterimage of something. Still, it was enough for the Sith apprentice to locate the deepest chamber of the tomb, and sense the beings within, clearly trying to desecrate the physical remains of the once mighty Sith Lord.

"Come, we must move quickly; they are already in the tomb chamber," he said, venturing inside swiftly, the other two following close behind.

Following his feelings from the Force, Diábolis ignored many of the off shooting tunnels, and avoided many of the hidden traps and dead ends in the maze-like passages. They would remained for Imperial Archeologists to discover and catalogue for years to come, but for now they had a specific mission, and limited time in which to act.

Within an hour of traveling through the dark and cold passageways, Diábolis knew that they had arrived at the tomb chamber, braziers and torches alight within the massive sarcophagus room, and a large number of their masked and robed foes gathered around the large stone coffin, which presumable still held the decayed remains.

Their presence did not go unnoticed however, and as one the others turned to face the two Dark Adepts and Sith Lord that approached them, weapons in hand but not activated as of yet.

"So, you finally tracked us here…" said the figure nearest the tomb itself, even as he lowered his hood, revealing the snide smirk of Yihdâ, "It took you long enough I must say, and if not for the defenses that Sadow placed on his tomb you would have been far too late…"

Glancing over the sarcophagus quickly, Diábolis noticed that indeed, there were signs of attempted forceful opening. It was strange; however, that it had withstood such attempts up to now, for as far as the Devronian knew, the tombs of the ancient Sith responded well to any influence of the Dark Side.

Apparently, Naga Sadow has put in place many other measures to limit or control who could access the deepest secrets of the ancient Sith, although how he had managed that, Diábolis did not know.

Nevertheless, he was not willing to wait around for these rejects to figure out some way around to steal whatever Naga Sadow had hidden away, and activated the blades of his weapon in response.

Fury followed suit, and a moment later the massive troll behind them activate his weapon as well, the sheer size of the troll's saber bathing them in the crimson light.

"I see you will not be dissuaded then…" Yihdâ said, frowning. Motioning with his hand, the dozen guards activate their black lightsabers, advancing cautiously on them.

"Take them," Diábolis ordered, even as he darted forward to engage a pair of cloaked figures, intercepting their overhead strikes with a blade each of his weapon.

Fury laughed loudly, leaping into a group of five, his independent sabers whirling and spinning as he took them on all at once, the surge of Dark Side energy through the Marauder giving him the speed and strength to combat so many.

The troll lumbered forward with a challenging roar, great lightclub swinging from side to side, forcing more of their enemies to dodge completely or be swatted aside like gnats. Diábolis was actually impressed with the beast, aptly named Calamity. While the creature lacked true skill and precision with the weapon, it was more than able to hold its own through sheer physical strength and endurance.

Throwing the pair of foes off of his weapon, the Devaronian Sith Lord grabbed one by the throat, hurling him to the side and into a wall, while spinning out of the hasty strike of the other, his weapon becoming a whirlwind of activity as he moved into his counterattack.

The ebony blade was too slow to outpace his flurry, and within moments he had cut down the other, and as the two Marauders took on five opponents apiece Diábolis charged for Yihdâ, eager to pick up where their last confrontation left off.

This time however, there would be no escape for the hybrid or any of his followers, as the Sith Apprentice was not considering capture for any of them, merely a quick and merciless death for the glory of his future Empire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kelrek sensed the moment that the battle on Ord Mantell shifted to their favor once and for all.

Seizing their center of supplies had been the first step, bombing it from orbit to destroy all hopes of a Republic occupation of the planet, followed by the systematic invasions and capture of their strongholds and outposts across the planet.

Many had tried to escape, and were destroyed upon leaving the planet by the waiting capital ships of the Empire, but still the fools held out hope for something.

Watching from his command ship, the Dark Adept Sorcerer kept a keen interest on the progress of their warriors as they moved across the planet's surface, dismantling their power bases and executing every Republic sympathizer the found.

Or at least he was, until a tremor in the Force turned Kelrek's attention to the edge of the system.

"My Lord, a ship has emerged from Hyperspace," one of the officers said hesitantly.

"Identify it," Kelrek ordered, even as he gestured for the sector to appear on the holographic display.

"It's… the Pursuit of Justice, my Lord," was the horrified answer, and Kelrek glared at the virtual representation of the blasted ship that had escaped the downfall of the Core.

"Flitwick…" he said slowly, intoning the name of the most wanted commander in the Republic Remnant. "Move to intercept, I want that ship destroyed immediately!"

Even as they turned about however, the ship that was the bane of the Empire's entire Navy, a fusillade of weaponry emitted from the capital ship, many of which were unknown to the Sorcerer.

"Deflectors double front!" he ordered, even as the ship rocked from the first wave of ordinance slamming into them.

"My Lord, fighters and shuttle are emerging from the ship, heading for the planet," he was informed by another officer, and Kelrek snarled in reply.

"Send word to Jennah and Srilis, and call the other ships to reinforce us against the Pursuit of Justice," he said, hating that he required such assistance for one ship.

Even as he turned back, fighter launched from their ship, flying toward the Pursuit of Justice, plasma flying from their turrets in the attempt to penetrate the capital ship's shields, not that Kelrek expected any results.

And sure enough, as soon as the fighters entered targetable range of the cruiser, a barrage of short range phasers shot through them, penetrating the smaller ships' shields and blasting through their hulls.

Kelrek grunted, noting that the other capital ships for the Empire were quickly approaching. Somehow he just knew that this wouldn't be as simple a battle as he wanted it to be. "Launch more fighters, and prepare a shuttle with boarding parties," he demanded, gathering his effects from the console and turning, "I will join them in the attack on the ship."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ist wasn't sure about this plan, even as the shuttle she was in vibrated with the pressure of the atmosphere intensifying around them. Commander Flitwick had taken them rather swiftly through the various systems, sending only brief messages to each, and learning that the remnant was losing the battle here on Ord Mantell.

He had determined that if they were to rescue any of the former Navy, they had to act swiftly, and quickly planned out making his own ship a distraction for the forces in space, while the Jedi led a company down to the planet below and gathered as many of the former military as they could before retreating further into the north-eastern quadrant of the Galaxy, and then shifting their trajectory to throw off the pursuing Imperials to flee back toward the new base.

They knew that construction was already underway on it, as none of them could remember the name or exact coordinates of the planet, which meant that it had become unplottable, as per the mage-born's special wards.

Still, dropping down into the middle of a war on the planet's surface was not the debut that Ist had envisioned for the return of the Jedi to the Galaxy, but nevertheless it was as though the Force willed it to be so.

"We're nearing the heaviest of the fighting," the squad commander said, keeping those in the passenger area of the shuttle informed of their progress, even as the fighter escort veered off to return to the cruiser and help defend it from the Imperials.

Ist nodded, checking her lightsaber for any signs of wear or potential damage, even as the other troopers went about checking their gear at the last minute. Shadow Guesto was with her in this shuttle, while Knight Dyz and his Padawan Tols Paa were in another, and Knight Bagrax Doususo and his Padawan Mok Januun were on the third, evenly spacing out the Jedi among their soldiers for the three drop zones that they had chosen.

The lights around the shuttle went out, soon to be replaced with the red emergency lights that indicated they were about to land, and Ist stood, allowing the Force to keep her balance as the shuttle jerked to a halt. The lights extinguished, and the ramp to the outside opened with the hissing of air pressurizing to the planet.

"Go!" Shadow Guesto shouted at the troopers, and they charged out of the shuttle, quickly identifying their enemy, whose armor had only marginally changed since the fall of the Republic, and opening fire.

What really got the attention of everyone on the battlefield however, were the yellow flashes of light that accompanied Ist's and Kell's lightsabers activating, the blades of their weapons leading the way as they charged the Imperial ranks.

"For the Republic!" shouted the commander of their squad, and the rest of the troopers yelled in response, hitting the ranks of the Empire like a hammer, fresh soldiers quickly overwhelming the tired and worn out warriors of the Sith, and pushing them back.

"Release the droids!" Ist commanded, and several of Magi-tech's war droids rolled out from under the shuttle, unfolding and opening up with full automatic fire of their weapons, quickly cutting down any foe that did not quickly retreat.

Expected, once the infantry fell back, Dark Adepts of the Empire showed up to try and win back the ground they were losing. A pair of black robed figures leapt into the fray, their crimson blades intercepted by Ist's blade and Shadow Guesto's staff.

Dodging back from a complicated flurry of slashes and stabs, Ist fell into her Makashi dueling stance, deflecting the strikes with precise movements and counterattacking, advancing in a straight line through the hailstorm of blaster fire that surged around them.

Her opponent attempted to circle her, but she merely pivoted, keeping her blade between herself and her foe. It was obvious what the being wanted, to place her between himself and the ranks of hidden Imperial troopers, but in doing so he had done the same to himself, the rebellion lines pushing up behind him even as Ist pressed the attack.

The being realized their mistake when a blaster shot rang out behind Ist, and she sidestepped it completely, forcing the Adept to deflect his own trooper's attack.

The figure attempting to leap over her, to reestablish their original orientation, but she predicted where the being would land, and stabbed, impaling the chest armor of the adept, dropping the robed figure quickly.

Beside them, the other fell to Shadow Guesto's blades in quick order, and the rebel troops ran past them, eager to push the lines of the Empire back even further to give them time and energy to regroup and evacuate what Republic soldiers they could find.

"Can it be? Master Jedi, it is an honor," said one of the other warriors, approaching and removing his helmet. "We never gave up hope that the order had survived the Imperial purge."

Ist smiled at the man, sheathing her saber and beckoning several of the other Republic warriors closer. "We're here to evacuate you, the battle here is lost, but we can regroup and strike back at the Empire in a more organized fashion, on our own terms rather than theirs."

"We'd have to speak to command, but our forces are scattered across the planet," the leader, a Colonel from the insignia on his armor, stated. "There'd be little time to rescue them all."

"We have other parties landing in two other strategic points, to operate as rally points for evacuation." Ist explained quickly, pulling out a small handheld holoprojctor and turning it on, showing the map of the quadrant and the three landing zones, "just have your forces withdraw to these points and we'll see about getting them off world."

"Understood commander," the Colonel said, snapping a sharp salute to Ist, who was rather taken aback that the Republic military would still consider the Jedi as their generals and commanders. It must have shown on her face, because the officer looked bashful at the response, "Sorry…" he said, "force of habit after the war."

"Understood," Ist replied, turning back to the front lines, where Guesto and the rebel forces were holding the line well away from the shuttle, "we'll maintain a wide perimeter here, you focus on getting what forces you can loaded onto the shuttle as quickly as possible. We can signal the ship in orbit for more if needed, but be quick."

Even as the soldiers turned to converse among themselves, and communicate the message across the planet to their commanders, Ist proceeded back to the front lines, saber reigniting as she engaged herself with batting blaster bolts back from their forces to the regrouping Imperial onslaught.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the sort of battle that Lord Fury lived for, his twin crimson sabers clashing with that of five foes, the blackened masks hiding the fear that he sensed plainly from their forms as he battled with them throughout the ruined tomb.

Off to his right, Calamity was wading through another set of five warriors, his brute strength and massive size aiding him in keeping pace with the smaller and better trained Force wielders.

Leaping over a low swing from one of his enemies, Fury twisted in midair to lie horizontally, corkscrewing as he lashed out with his blades, striking armor and searing through robes of two other opponents, forcing them to fall back and nurse wounds from the melted metal and burning cloth.

Landing hard, Fury called upon the Dark Side, enraging himself and pushing his body to even higher feats of speed and strength, allowing the fear of his enemies and their pain to fuel him in killing them faster.

A pair of weapons was caught and deflected to his left, even as he kicked behind him, catching a fool in the chest and sending him flying backward, before slashing with his free weapon at those whose weapons he had knocked to the side.

A pair of screams rent the air, and two of his five fell to the stone, but he was still moving, his momentum carrying him around to face off on the one he had kicked. Slamming from above with both blades, Fury forced the figure to his knees, pressing down with all the power he had.

The figure had no strength left to oppose him, and soon his blade was forced level with his own head, where Fury struck like lightning, removing the offending masked head from its shoulders.

Whirling on the last two, Fury roared in the power of the Dark Side, charging forward and blocking high, jumping to kick the other opponent in the chest, before rotating around as he landed past them, weapons flashing and shimmering in the gloom of the tomb as he attacked with a powerful flurry, the pair only managing to keep up for a few moments before they too were cut down like their allies.

Even as he rose above their crumpled forms, another scream tore at the stillness of the tomb. Some fool had allowed Calamity to get too close, and the troll had seized the being, crushing the enemy in his powerful fist before hurling the broken figure across the room, where they had smashed against the stone wall.

Taking quick stock of the situation, Fury could tell that Calamity was in his element, wading through the remaining three of his five opponents, while Diábolis dueled with the skilled Yihdâ, whom they had encountered and fought before.

Moving toward the Sith apprentice, Fury charged the half-breed from the rear, cutting off any avenue of escape, and flanking the sith hybrid in the process.

Timing his strikes with the Diábolis, Fury swung high, before dropping to stab low with his other weapon, distracting and overwhelming their opponent between their four separate blades.

Yihdâ tried to execute a similar maneuver that Fury often employed, leaping to the side to catch their crimson blades with each other's, perhaps trying to make a run for the exit, but Fury squeezed both his sabers, exercising the Force on the air around the hybrid, slowing his movement and pulling him back toward their waiting weapons.

At the same time, Diábolis had unleashed the blue-white torrent of sith lightning that he was fond of, and with his back to them, Yihdâ had no choice but to take the blast full on. Snarling angrily as the pain surged through him, the enemy Darksider collapsed to the ground, straining against both other Force wielders in order to return to his feet and escape, but neither were willing to let up for even a moment, content to watch the hybrid thrash on the ground.

Sensing the moment that Calamity destroyed the final foes that he had been pitted against, Fury vigorously ripped the weapon from the hybrid's hand with the Force, leaving Yihdâ at the mercy of Diábolis and his lightning, which the Sith kept focused on his new prisoner until the hybrid finally collapsed, unconscious.

"Beast," the Sith commanded, looking toward Calamity, "take this pathetic traitor, we are returning to the ship where we can interrogate him to our heart's content.

The troll lumbered forward and scooped the much smaller sith hybrid into his massive hands, restraining the unconscious humanoid in the event that Yihdâ regained consciousness.

Fury was only marginally disturbed by the look of eager anticipation on Diábolis' face as they exited the tomb, and loaded their prisoner into a shuttle to return to orbit. There was something just a bit over the top about it, but the Marauder couldn't place exactly what it was that the Sith Lord had in store for their new prisoner. He was willing to guess however, that it would only be starting at where his master was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Filius kept one eye trained on the space battle erupting around them, while his attention focused on the stream of communications from the planet's surface, cataloguing their findings and the chatter between the Republic military and their rebellion forces. More shuttles had already been requested and dispatched, the Pursuit of Justice being used as decoy to block the Empire from attacking the shuttles themselves.

Thanks for a bit of clever engineering on the part of Director Granger, and the swell of new tech that she had kept secret over the time they had been in hiding, the Imperial ships had no idea what they were facing.

If he was perfectly honest as well, Filius could guess that these were older models, probably the last of their generations of capital ships, given to wage the prolonged end of the war against the last holdouts of the Republic while the Empire itself progressed onto the newer and more powerful models for keeping the peace.

Typically a clever strategy, but one that would see them fail this day, as the forward lances powered up even as the heavily augmented and upgraded ship pulled into range of the lead Imperial cruiser, which continued to launched fighters and shuttles to try and assault them.

"Fire," Filius said casually, the moment they were in range, and the improved and highly volatile lances erupted from under the ship, arcing out and striking the other capital ship, spaying out across their shields and illuminating the entire vicinity in the golden light.

It seemed that, from the launching of countless shuttles and escape pods that the Empire had perceived something of this nature to happen, but they still were losing an entire ship as the golden lances pierced through the shields, erupting short-lived fire along the hull as they bore straight through the older ship's hull.

"First wave of shuttles returning from the planet, Commander," an officer relayed, and Filius nodded, focusing on the enemy shuttles, many of which were fleeing to the other capital ships, which remained well out of range of their ship-to-ship weaponry, but others, along with fighter escorts, were closing in on them, even while the rebellion's own fighters swarmed toward them to engage.

"Prepare for boarding parties," Filius commanded, his gut telling him that the Empire was planning to launch a surprise attack without even landing a single shuttle. "Seal and partition off the ship, and every crew member ready your weapons," he added.

Drawing his own wand, Filius drew a deep, steadying breath as the imperial shuttles drew near enough for apparation. The tell-tale cracking sound heralded that he was correct in his thoughts, and Filius whirled, throwing a blanket shield across the bridge as blasterfire erupted in their midst.

His officers were ready however, and were not caught off guard, quickly throwing themselves behind cover and returning fire. A trio of spells sent from the dueling champion cut down the largest of their attackers, but Filius had to dodge backward as a torrent of lightning cashed down onto the place where he had stood.

"Once again we meet, Mage-born," the figure said, the sputtering of an igniting lightsaber accompanying the taunt.

Filius remembered this one, only marginally, from the strange shape the blade he wielded, with its small cross guard of additional plasma. Still, this was a danger to their entire operation, and they had little choice but to fight it out, with so many fleeing from the planet to them.

"Kill the traitors!" the Adept shouted, even as he grasped his weapon and charged Filius' position.

Dodging under the screaming blade, Filius felt part of his beard give way, and quickly twisted, apparating himself behind the lines of attacking Imperial commandos.

Not even giving a second thought to the near-death experience he just received, the champion duelist fell into his favored stance, and unleashed a barrage of spells, arcing them widely across the bridge. He trusted that his people would know to stay down, and in that hope he would go all out and attack the enemy, striving to cut down as many of the imperial soldiers as he could for them before being forced by the adept to shift position once more.

The human was already advancing on him again, although a lightning fast shield charm blocking the shimmering red blade bought Filius a few spare moments to fell another trooper, before he was forced to apparate once more to the opposite side of the bridge.

He knew that the adept would catch on to the tactic quickly, on top of combat apparition being very taxing on one as old as he was, so he quickly started to modify his combat strategy.

With half of the invading troopers in the bridge defeated or dead, it would be far easier in he drew the adept away somewhere in the ship, and with the man's determination to attack him alone, that could be something very easy to execute.

Deciding quickly, Filius unleashed a powerful concussion hex at the adept, waiting of the man to intercept the spell with his own skills in the Force, the beam of light colliding heavily with bolts of lightning from the man's hands, connecting them in a battle of strength and will.

But Filius had another plan for the large beam connecting them. Darting to the side, he strafed the entire room, circling around to the exit and dragging the beam along with him. This forced several of the imperial troopers to run, and those who did not were killed between the powerful energies.

Approaching the doors exiting the bridge, Filius wasn't prepared for the beam to suddenly break, the Dark Adept switching tactics and slamming the small wizard in the back with a blast of telekinesis.

Still, even as Filius cushioned the impact with the far wall with a hastily placed charm, this worked in his advantage. The Adept would pursue, and Filius would lead him in a wonderful high speed tour of the ship, simultaneously allowing the bridge to lockdown, as well as countering the other boarding parties wherever they had appeared.

Darting off, aided with magic to maintain a bit of speed over what would definitely be a Force-aided chase, Filius started toward the shield generator, an obvious first target for the boarders to eliminate, the Adept in hot pursuit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Veneficus lounged casually on the throne he had placed within the former Jedi Temple, up in the personal mediation chamber he had built out of the old High Council chambers, relishing the power that the former fortress of the light gave so readily to him.

Gor-lak was off pursuing his prey, while Diábolis was far from the palace, and Veneficus, following the rebellious adepts of a sith best long forgotten.

"Skarok-Nur won't give up so easily," the specter of Ludo Kreesh stated, even as he stood among the other ancient Sith spirits that Veneficus had bound to him for the pursuit of power.

"I am counting on it…" Veneficus replied, allowing the strength of the Dark Side to flow around him, granting him sight beyond sight into both present and future. "With his servants hunted and countered at every turn, outmaneuvered by the empire he so ridiculously tried to challenge, he will have no choice but to come, in person, and challenge me directly."

"And then," Naga Sadow added, his form shimmering in the pale dawn over Coruscant through the large windows that overlooked the city around the Imperial Palace, "he will fall to the collective might of his betters."

"Yes…" Veneficus hissed, seeing the very threads of fate and inevitable destiny that would carry the sith hybrid to confront him in due time. The outcome of the battle was certain, but the ramifications and aftermath could be disputed.

"The real problem would be what our other enemies do in the time they have been given while you deal with this invasion…" Millannial said, "even now they are strengthening their hold on the galaxy, little by little, and if they are not found and destroyed they may pose a threat to your rule, immortality or not…"

"That I will not allow to happen," Veneficus seethed, growing weary of his old Master's tone of incredulous superiority. "Granger has never been greater than I, nor would any of the remaining Jedi match their skill again me." Holding out his hands, in vision he saw the unknown world that they had claimed, and he crushed it between his palms, "I will root them out and eliminate them, either one by one or all at once, it matters not…"

But even as he withdrew his hands, a fragment of the planet seemed to impale his left, not causing pain but a strange sense of unease. "You must be watchful for the hidden thorn within this rebellion," Darth Bane concluded, the usually silent propagator of the Rule of Two adding his thoughts.

"I have made no mistakes," Veneficus declared, but even as he did so he considered the truth of his own words.

Every step had been carefully considered since the toppling of the Republic, and while these rebels had slipped so easily around his grasping nets and snares, their luck would run out eventually. Gor-lak had gifts and power tailors to seeking out magic users, and while the main portion of their base was hidden from sight, likely behind powerful wards somewhere in the Outer Rim, he had spies working dutifully to find their stronghold, eliminating planet after planet from their search, narrowing the possibilities down to a limited number.

It wouldn't be long before they were in his grasp once more, and the last light in the galaxy would be snuffed out forever.

Exiting his deep meditation, Veneficus arose, his mind already working on how best to influence the future that he desired. From sith texts that dated as far back as the early exiles from Tython, he knew of ways and abilities that would increase the power of the Dark Side in the universe, but they typically required bloody sacrifice of his own enemies, the Jedi.

Idly, he wondered if any Force sensitive that was his enemy would suffice, but even without the power contributed by the transcendence of a wielder back into the Force itself, there were means and methods to consider.

Down in the bowels of the palace, deeper than even the holocron vault but not quite to the catacombs that Zychre patrolled and guarded, Veneficus had prepared a place for such spells and rituals, so very close to the dark heart of the old sith shrine that the Jedi Temple was built over, attempting and failing to hide the Dark Side in their own midst.

There he had carved, using the Wild Force, a perfect replica of the ancient sith altars, with runes in the old language for the express purpose of channeling the power of the Dark Side.

Standing over altar, Veneficus raised his arms, allowing the flames of the various torches and braziers to dim. "S'dies laikas manti, fasona savimi kvailas, fasona savimi neviz!" he intoned, using the Force to guide the water in the altar's basin into a swirling, black whirlpool.

"S'dies laikas manti, fasona savimi kvailas, fasona savimi neviz!" he repeated, even as the water began to churn of its own accord, respondiung to the power of his words.

Lightning flashed from Veneficus' fingers, a staple to every true sith ritual, "Nesti savimi kia nun! Nesti savimi kia nun!" he commanded, pushing into the water his hatred of all his foes: the Jedi, the rebels, and the followers of Ludo Kreesh.

The water began to fizzle and smoke, fumes rising to join the dusty air of the chamber, even as the pool of water shone with its own eerie blue light, reflective of the lightning now surging within it.

Bringing his entire considerable will to bear, Veneficus leaned forward toward the water, hoping to catch even the tiniest glimpse of his enemies' plans, and witness firsthand them be frustrated by his spell, and the strength of the Dark Side that rested within him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~line break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kelrek snarled as he charged through the ship, pushing his Force-aided limbs to their swiftest in pursuit of Flitwick. The diminutive Mage-born had slipped away from him, and nearly effortlessly eliminated the entire assault of the bridge, rendering the main objective of their attack mute.

But the Sorcerer's personal goal of retribution for his previous humiliation at the hands of the former Republic general would go on, even as his other troops surged through the ship, targeting the various systems that would destroy the ship and thereby crush the rebels in this sector.

Wheeling around another corner, his cross guard saber snapped upward as the tiny man threw spells at him, clearly having waited in ambush for Kelrek to catch up to him, before splitting into three exact images of himself and speeding down different corridors in the attempt to confusing the Force user.

Not that the attempt would work, as Kelrek felt the for the Living Force within the real Flitwick, which was devoid amid the Wild energy that created the illusions. Choosing the path to the right, Kelrek continued after the wily commander.

The next room he entered was a disaster. Flitwick had already charged through, his spells flying in every direction at the Imperial soldiers that had attacked here, in the efforts to take out the shield generator, and they had been pushed back, allowing the rebel fighters to regain ground and start to fight back.

Kelrek was immediately set upon by a trio of blaster shots just for entering, and his saber flew into action, the Force keeping track of his prey, even as the sorcerer started through the room as a quick pace. His soldiers were better equipped than the rebels, and therefore should have had no trouble retaking the room without him, and therefore Kelrek cut down only those that stood in his way from following their leader.

On and on the chase continued through the corridors of the ship, and room after room Kelrek quickly started to piece together the tiny mage-born's plan. He was striking personally at every point of attack that his soldiers had made, trying to beat back their advance through his ship and stall for time.

They had slowed him down, only somewhat, but by the time that Kelrek entered a large hanger, where the fighters were berthed, he had finally managed to catch up with his adversary. The large number of troopers that had been sent to attack here was proof of their skill, as event he small commander was having difficulty in defeating and killing them, so protected from magical attacks as these were.

Leaping forward eagerly for the kill, Kelrek nearly missed abrupt turn of the small magical commander, even as Flitwick whirled on him and let loose a stream of fire. Even with his split-second dodge, Kelrek was forces top throw his cloak aside, the charring remains of the mesh-weave cloth succumbing to the flames.

Saber in both hands, he advanced slowly, looking for an opening to allow him to get in range of Flitwick, but the small mage had no intentions of allowing that. Spells streamed from his wand, and only a stead movement of defense from Kelrek was allowing him the time to even think of a way to attack.

Glancing to the side, he spotted a large cargo container, and hastily reached to it with the Force, allowing his saber to take a heavier brunt of the spells that came for him.

Heaving with his strength, Kelrek sent the container flying at his enemy, rejoicing inwardly as the little man disappeared under the massive wield of the cargo storage. It was short lived; however, as Kelrek turned to find Flitwick dusting off his hat several yards behind him, having teleported out of the way at the last moment. They squared off once more, and Kelrek sensed that the mage-born was finally growing weary of all his tricks, and was about to fight for real. Kelrek would happily oblige in kind to the small commander, and held his weapon at the ready

S'dies laikas manti, fasona savimi kvailas, fasona savimi neviz! : reveal enemy plan, make them foolish, make them fail!

Nesti savimi kia nun! : bring them to me!