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He walked slowly down the main street leading to the Capital Building. The disillusionment charm wasn't perfect and he did not want to make any sudden movements that would cause any wandering eyes to see a ripple in the air. His nerves grew tenser as he made it closer and closer to the entrance. The building had one large main entrance. Four stormtroopers stood sentry at the door, two on each side. This was where Harry met his first challenge...opening the door.

He knew that it was possible through the Force to influence the thoughts of others, but he had never tried something like it before. The other options were creating some sort a distraction to necessitate opening the door, or using an imperius curse. Harry did not feel confident about experimenting with the Force at the moment, when he knew there was something else that he definitely could do. The fact that the method had been labeled unforgivable meant little to him at the moment. He had used the curse multiple times on goblins while at Gringotts, so at that point he figured he was already beyond forgiveness anyway.

Reaching out with his magic, he focused on the guard furthest to the left. He pushed the spell towards the man, and felt confident that it had worked when the stormtrooper's head popped up suddenly. Harry could actually feel the threads of his magic connecting him to this other person. He focused his commands through the threads and watched as the guard left his post.

"Problem with the communications in my helmet," the puppet-stormtrooper remarked casually heading towards the door. "I'm going to have it checked with maintenance."

As soon as the last word rolled off the man's tongue, Harry was on the platform and just steps away from the door. The stormtrooper was side-by-side with Harry at that point, entering the code into the control panel on the wall. The door hissed and suddenly retracted upwards into the wall. Harry didn't wait for the stormtrooper to make the first move, and stepped into the main corridor inside the Capital Building.

The inside was nothing but long hallways of sterile metal walls. There were lights overhead, which were dimly lit, just enough to illuminate the hallway for any late-night occupants. He was relieved when he saw that there was no activity, and no other guards patrolling. He was left with just one problem, which was what to do with his captive. There were numerous doors that lined the hallway, and Harry decided to take a chance at picking one about halfway down the length of the hall. He commanded the helpless man to open the door and proceed inside. As luck would have it, the room was some sort of utility closet, with extra mechanical pieces sorted into containers. Most importantly it was empty of other people.

Once they were both in, Harry ordered the stormtrooper to crouch behind a crevice between two containers. The man was barely finished moving before Harry knocked him out with a stunner. Harry instantly cringed when the soldier's armor clanged against the floor and containers, causing them to shift their contents. He waited a moment for the silence outside the door to be broken by the sound of incoming curious footsteps, but again luck was on his side.

His hand hit the panel to close the door as he walked slowly back into the hall. He kept heading down the western hallway and searched each door for a sign that it was the lift to go down to the lower level, where the holding cells were apparently located. Further and further he went until he began to run out of doors to check. His patience had started to wear thin, when he realized that he had been staring at the lift the entire time. The door to the lift at the very end of the hall was completely clear, and standing from a distance, someone who did not know what they were looking for would only see through to the back wall, which looked just like the rest.

Harry stepped close to it and was about to hit the panel to open the lift, but he heard a churning sound that forced him to halt. He immediately knew that someone was already inside the lift, and on his or her way up from the lower levels. He pressed his body back against the wall, wanting to take no chance of someone running into him. The lift clicked as it came a stop on his level. The clear door swept away revealing two Imperial officers, deep in conversation.

"I understand that there has been an increase in activity, but was it really necessary to send one of them here?" The man on the left tittered, unpleasantly. He was an older man, tall, with grey and white hair.

"Obviously the Emperor and Lord Vader are concerned," the younger man on the right, responded to his companion. "We took four more into custody in Mos Eisley just today, for looking to sync up with the rebels. If we aren't vigilant, this place could become a hive of them."

"Still..." the older man started, "they don't exactly make for a comfortable working environment."

"They should make our jobs easier, at least."

The clicking of the officers' polished boots against the floor gradually softened and their voices tailed off as they disappeared down the hall, leaving Harry once again on his own. Even though they were gone, Harry was left with an ill feeling at their words. Obviously there was someone on Tatooine, who made even his or her own allies fearful. Almost unconsciously, Harry's hand drifted down just to ensure that the lightsaber was still attached to his belt.

Knowing that he could not linger there for long, he stepped into the lift, and sent it down into the depths of the Capital Building. As the lift fell, he tried to calm himself, focusing on the Force and his surroundings. It was as he was doing this that he realized something was not quite right. His vision through the Force was hazy and the streams of lights that usually flowed through his surroundings were tinged with darkness. His only thought was that whatever the officers had been referring to was responsible for it.

The lift came to a halt, and the clear door opened, beckoning Harry out. He stepped cautiously into a new hallway, this one shorter then the one on the main floor. It came to a dead end at another door, and Harry had a feeling this was where his target resided. He approached the door and prepared himself for whatever was waiting for him on the other side. As the door withdrew, Harry was met with a wide room that was clearly a prison. The walls were lined with cells, each with a clear door that offered a view of who was being held inside. The center of the room was filled with various machines and apparatus that were undoubtedly there with the purpose to cause pain. Also in the center of the room, was a warden who was clearly confused as to why the prison door had just opened on its own.

"Is there someone there?" the warden asked sternly, standing from his seat. He waited for a response for several moments, but when none came, he sat back down with a huff. "Damn thing's always malfunctioning." The warden barely had a chance to sit down before Harry took him out with a stunner as well, sending him falling off his chair and onto the floor.

Harry wasted no time beginning to make his way around the holding cells, looking for Nola's Father. The cells were all full with every manner of creature. Some had clearly been subjected to the tortures of the machines that were housed in the room. He realized the doors were soundproof, as some of the prisoners pounded on them, their lips moving with no noise coming through. He knew most of these people were probably innocent of any real crime, but there was little he could do at the moment. A mass prison break out would bring the entire Imperial presence in the city down onto him.

He had gone through the majority of the cells before he happened onto the man he was looking for. Ordol had certainly seen better days. His clothes were in tatters, covered in singed holes and dried blood. His face was bruised, and several cuts ran along his cheek. Ordol's eyes were open and seeing though, meaning that at the least he was still alive. Harry realized that he was still invisible, and quickly removed the disillusionment charm. The ragged man's eyes instantly widened when Harry reappeared out of nowhere.

Harry was about to open the holding cell to free the man when his senses seemed to pulse, and the Force warned him of something else's presence. The moment Harry turned around from facing the cell, he instantly took a step backwards. In the doorway to the prison, stood something that made the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand on end. Whatever the thing was, it had the body of a human man, but the skin on its face and baldhead was a shocking white. For a second Harry feared that the pasty bastard Voldemort had managed to follow him to Tatooine, but then he got a look at the being's other features. Instead of the snake-like slits that Voldemort possessed, this person had wide eyes, that were completely black in color, lacking any visible pupils. Just like its eyes, its lips were completely black. It was dressed in crimson robes, which fell over a tall and powerful frame. If Harry thought the appearance was intimidating, he was not prepared for the deep baritone voice that seemed to echo through the room.

"I knew I felt a presence skulking through the building," the man stated slowly, his voice controlled, dripping with arrogance. "It intrigued me to say the least. I've never felt something like it, even through the Force. Imagine my surprise when it turns out to be just a boy."

"Who are you?" Harry questioned, putting aside his fear. He had spent his whole life living in fear, and he was done with it.

"I have had several names," the man answered dramatically. "But now I only answer to Darth Iratus."

Harry put the pieces together rather quickly after that. Darth Sidious, Darth Vader, Darth Iratus...Sith. Apparently Obi-Wan's notion that there were only ever two was completely and utterly wrong, judging by what Harry was standing having a conversation with at the moment.

"You know who I am, now I believe it is only courteous that you let me know who you are," Iratus beckoned.

"My name is Harry. I'm a moisture farmer. My friend here was arrested for something he didn't do. I was concerned for his well-being."

"Touching," Iratus growled, sarcasm evident. "You will have to forgive me if I don't wholly believe you. He may be a friend, but you are certainly no moisture farmer. There is power around you. I can feel it flowing through the Force. It calls to me...Jedi."

Harry knew at this point that getting out of the situation quietly was likely not an option. "So what now? You turn me over to your masters?"

"I serve no master," Iratus roared. Clearly he had struck a nerve.

"And yet, here you are in an Imperial base, doing the Emperor's bidding."

"I do not serve the Emperor. My brothers and sisters have chosen to ally ourselves with the Empire for our own benefit. We act on our own will, not Sidious'."

"And what do you mean to do with me?" Harry asked, already anticipating the answer.

"I mean to end you. There is no place in the galaxy any longer for the Jedi. Their time has come and gone. The Sith shall rule again." Iratus was done talking at this point, as he reached into his robe and extracted a familiar hilt. This one was longer than Harry's, and when it hissed to life it glowed deep red, deeper even than Iratus' robes.

With a sigh of reluctance, Harry dropped his outer robe, and pulled out the silver and gold hilt that had belonged to the fallen Jedi Master. He instantly felt the power of the violet blade as he ignited it. He emptied his mind of all things other than the scene that lay before him and dropped back into a defensive stance. Predictably it was not Harry who moved first, but Iratus who seemed to almost glide across prison floor like a bird. The red blade moved almost impossibly fast, but Harry managed to raise his own and deflect the initial strike. He swung his own attack at his opponent's center, but Iratus moved away casually.

They continued to circle each other, each trading probing strikes to test the other's defense. Glancing to the side, Harry realized that most of those housed in the prison cells were glued to the door, watching the battle play out. He noticed Ordol looking at him in plain concern, as if believing Harry to be a dead man. As they felt each other out, Harry realized that Iratus' height and length gave him a strong advantage. He was able to strike from high, and from a greater distance away without fear of counters. Harry knew he would need to get in close to gain the upper hand. If there was one thing that Harry had faith in, it was his reflexes. Years on a broom as a seeker had bolstered his confidence. So it was with a clear sense of faith that he held his blade to the side and left his center an open target.

Just as expected, the opportunity was too good for Iratus to pass up, and the Sith lunged forward, intent on impaling Harry through his heart. Harry waited until the last possible second before spinning around the blade and dropping his shoulder viscously into his enemy's sternum and forcing him backwards. However, Harry did not revel in his small victory, but followed it with an overhead downward swipe. The violet blade hummed as it plummeted down, tearing through fabric and flesh. Iratus howled as the lightsaber burned a foot-long wound down his chest.

The Sith backed away from danger, grabbing at his ruined skin. The strike was good, but not deep enough to incapacitate the man. Iratus anger was evident, as Harry could feel the hatred pouring off of him in waves through the Force. Harry barely noticed the blue thread of electricity gathering on Iratus' fingers before it came flying towards him and into his body. He instantly fell to his knees, and he was sure he was screaming, but was in too much pain to tell. The electricity coursed through Harry's body, and he could feel his skin burning. With a desperate plea to the magic within his body, he pushed out and threw up a shield. The attempt was a success and the electricity bounced off and impacted the ceiling, charring the metal. Catching his breath, Harry realized his clothing was slightly smoking. He brushed his hands down them, making sure nothing was aflame.

Meanwhile, Iratus stared at Harry in confusion. "What are you, Jedi? That was no manipulation of the Force."

"I never said I was a Jedi," Harry muttered, still feeling jolts from his nerve endings. "You just assumed it."

"The Force flows through you strongly, and you carry the weapon of a Jedi. You are Jedi...but you are something else as well."

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't take the time to explain it to you," Harry stated, gripping his lightsaber tightly with both hands.

"It's of no consequence," Iratus' answered, dropping his hand away from his wound and raising his own weapon. "The dark side of the Force is my ally, and will allow me to overcome any ability you possess."

While Harry had his lightsaber raised and ready for a resumption of the fight, the reality was that the electricity that had flowed through him was still wreaking havoc on his nerves...particularly those in his fingers. His grip on the lightsaber was such that if a single blow struck his guard, he would likely lose it and be cut in half. Thus he was going to have to improvise. It was what he excelled at. As Iratus stepped forward, intent on ending him, Harry brought forth his magic and forced out the most powerful beam of light that he could conjure. The spell illuminated the room as much as any sun could, forcing Iratus to drop his guard and shield his eyes.

Harry's own vision was affected, but not to the same extent, so he gripped his saber and swung with fierce intent. The blade slipped unimpeded through the air until it entered just under the Sith's armpit and came through the other side. While Harry's strike had been true and effective, he had not counted on Iratus' still-ignited lightsaber flying from his severed limb and embedding into a nearby power cell. Harry barely had a second to curse his horrible fortune before the room exploded and he felt his body become weightless.