Dantooine

Running through a forest, Bide decided, was very much like running through a crowded city-or so it was for Force-attuned beings. Bide could feel the gazes of dozens of creatures trained on him, some very obviously radiating malicious intentions, others fearfully keeping track of him, and still others regarding him with a sense of guarded curiosity. But for the most part, these Force signatures radiated a feeling very familiar to Bide: focused determination. They were hunters, and he and Ache were the prey. Of course, Bide would not let any harm befall Ache; he followed her closely enough that he could come to her aid if she needed it, but not so closely that they made easy targets for the more crafty fauna one would find on Dantooine.

But while Bide's mind worked with the speed and efficiency of a well-maintenanced astromech droid, absorbing as many details as he could about the ever-moving hostile environment he now found himself in, he also knew that Ache was doing none of these things. Her mind was centered around a single, selfless task: locate and rescue the obviously-distressed Trem Leem. This task, Bide thought, was a waste of time. If the circumstances were different, if Ache and Trem were training to be Sith warriors, Trem would have been left to fend for himself. If he survived whatever ill had befallen him, he would return a wiser and more prepared warrior; if he failed to survive, well, then there was very little use for him in the first place.

The thick, damp odor of trees and wild plants began to thin, and in the distance Bide could see light breaking through the tree-line. A clearing. But even from a distance of two hundred meters, Bide could tell that the clearing was small: a perfect spot for an ambush. He quickened his pace now, ducking under thick blackish-brown branches, leaping over moss-covered logs, until he was only a few steps behind Ache. His steps were deliberate, careful; he did not snap a single twig or rustle more leaves than was necessary to follow his course. If Ache noticed he was behind her now, she didn't show it.

Opening himself to the Force, Bide was overwhelmed by the focused determination he felt earlier. He extended his awareness even further, trying to pinpoint the source of these feelings; trying to find the creatures who were about to make he and Ache their prey.

They were on him before he could react. A flash of purple fur and white bone streaked in front of Bide's face, and another narrowely missed his hip. His hand shot down towards his belt, trying to unclip his lightsaber. But it was gone. Caught off-guard by his weapon's absence, he did not sense the second kath hound behind him. Pain shot up his right leg as the creature's horn pierced his thigh. He felt his pant leg dampen with blood.

But the pain gave him focus, made him more attuned to the Force. Even without his lightsaber, Bide was a formidable warrior. Opening himself to the Force again, Bide extended his awareness three hundred and sixty degrees around him. He could hear the leaves rustling as the kath hounds prepared for another, more fierce attack; the first two creatures had merely served as a gauge of Bide's strength. He shut out these sounds, however, relying completely on his Force awareness. In his mind's eye he could see the entire forest, glowing brightly with life. It was a calm, steady feeling; the forest itself never radiated anything but pure life, no emotions. But around himself Bide could also feel the determination and satisfaction of the kath hounds, now having drawn the first blood from their prey. It was not darkness, exactly, that he felt. Not the same feeling his Master-or, under different circumstances, he himself-would radiate. Rather, the kath hounds were simply attacking him because they had to in order to live, not to climb the totem of power or test the limits of their strength.

Then there was Ache. Bide could see her, too, in the Force. She glowed brightly with life, though she now radiated confusion and worry rather than her usual jubilation. She had stopped her pursuit of Trem, now, and was instead scanning the forest for someone or something.

For Bide.

Sensing that the kath hounds were poised for a second attack, he nudged Ache away with the Force. He focused, sending her a single word before returning his attention to his assailants.

Go.

The kath hounds struck in greater number this time. Three leapt from the cover of thick, leafy bushes, heads angled downwards so that the points of their upwardly-curving horns were targeting Bide's legs and midsection. But the experienced warrior was ready for this. He shifted fluidly to a solid Teras Kasi defensive posture, then swiftly cracked the heel of his boot onto the skull of the closest kath hound. Using the downward momentum, he planted his right hand onto the ground in front of him, balanced himself, then sent a powerful push-kick into the snout of a second kath hound. It whimpered as it flew several meters backwards into the bush it had emerged from. Bide gestured at the remaining kath hound, now only a meter from his abdomen, with his free hand, grasping it in the Force and sending it crashing into the base of a nearby tree. It crumpled to the ground and did not move again.

Bide could sense more kath hounds around him now, some radiating concern, others frustration and anger. The bush to his right moved, and as it did he could hear a faint metallic click. He recognized the noise.

Bide whipped the powerful DL-44 blaster pistol from its holster on his right thigh, cringing ever so slightly as the motion irritated the wound inflicted on him by the kath hound. He made a mental note to bandage it up as soon as he dealt with his newest attacker.

The attack came from out of nowhere.

No malicious intent, no warning from the Force wised Bide to it. A blunt object slammed into the left side of Bide's skull, causing his vision to blurry. The last thing he saw before darkness overcame him was a face shrouded in shadows staring down at him.

A metallic click. It was unmistakable. Someone was unclipping a lightsaber from its belt clip. But where? In front? No, behind.

An anomaly in the Force. Too late. My head. Block out the pain, stay conscious. Fight the darkness.

"Well, Bide Shriek, I must say that the circumstances of our meeting are far different than I expected," said the voice. It echoed in Bide's head, piercing his dreams and wrenching him from his semi-conscious state. His eyes shot open, and he leapt to his feet.

Or he would have, had he not been bound to the thick trunk of a blba tree. Its bark was smooth and cool despite the height of the sun. Quickly, Bide surveyed his surroundings. He was in the center of a clearing-the same clearing, he guessed, that he had seen earlier. There were three figures in front of him, two prone, one standing. He recognized the one standing as the shrouded figure he had seen before he succumbed to unconsciousness. His blood boiled with anger as he recognized Ache as one of the bodies lying on the ground. Her normally pristine blonde hair was soiled by a red stain, clearly blood. Next to her, Bide could tell from a simple probe of the Force, was Trem Leem. From what he could see, Trem was uninjured.

"You speak as if you know who I am," Bide retorted. He shifted slightly, testing the strength of his binds. He was strapped to the tree by high-tension rappelling cable; it would be impossible for him to break it with brute force. The cable seemed to be surrounded in Force energy, as well. Someone was keeping it protected from tampering by the Force. He'd have to figure out another way to break free.

"That's because I do know who you are, Jedi Shriek." The shrouded figured placed knowing stress on the word Jedi. "I've been following your progress for quite some time, and I have to say that I am unimpressed. Your current level of strength is far below the potential I can feel emanating from you."

Bide perked a brow at this. Just who was this mysterious figure?

"Ah, you're curious, aren't you? You want to know who I am? How I know you?" A hint of anger lined his voice. The Force was very suddenly flooded with an overwhelming aura of power as the figure removed his hood, revealing a heavily scarred, haggard face. But it was a young face, Bide could tell. A face that, like his, had seen countless battles.

"My name is Paradox," he said, and then after a brief pause he smirked. "That is the title that the Dark Lord gave to me, anyway."

Bide's heart sank. Dark Lord? Could Ja'neel have seized the throne in his absence? Did he take a new apprentice? Anger seeped steadily into the Force as Bide calculated the various possibilities.

Paradox laughed heartily. "So easy to read, Bide Shriek. Don't worry, your worthless Master didn't abandon you. He still thinks that the mantle of the Dark Lord of the Sith is rightfully his, and that you are a worthy successor. As I have just proved, with disappointing ease, he is sadly mistaken. I do hope that your Master does not so disappoint the Dark Lord when they inevitably duel."

Bide growled. "If he is so mistaken, then unbind me. I'll show you how worthless I am." He flexed his biceps, testing the strength of the ropes once more.

"Come now, even you know that it's pointless to struggle. Those cables won't break that easily. But if you're so eager to fight, I don't see why I should deny you the pleasure, especially when we're lucky enough to have such a large audience." Paradox gestured to Ache and Trem, whose bodies rose into the air and slowly moved towards him.

"The girl... she's quite beautiful, isn't she? Maybe I'll take her as a prize after I kill you." He stroked her cheek gently with his index finger, smiling as he did so. "Yes, I think I'll do that."

It took all of his focus to do so, but Bide controlled his temper. He could not afford to let his feelings for Ache come to light. "Good luck taking her when you're dead. Maybe I'll take her for my own," he said, forcing himself to smirk.

Paradox paused a moment before chuckling. "You almost had me there, Shriek. So, are you and the Jedi girl a couple? How does that work, exactly? Does she look the other way while you go do Sith things for your Master?"

"Just let me go and I'll tell you, you piece of bantha poodo." Paradox simply shrugged and waved his hand in Bide's direction. The cable slackened and fell to the floor at his feet. Bide massaged his arms where the cable had dug into his flesh, leaving the skin red and raw.

"You'll probably be needing this," said Paradox as he tossed something towards Bide. A shining metallic cylinder landed in Bide's outstretched hand. It felt familiar in his grasp-it was his lightsaber. "I guess your Master never taught you the importance of keeping track of your lightsaber. It's an invaluable tool."

Paradox unbuttoned and shrugged off his heavy cloak, exposing a bare torso that was as heavily scarred as his face. He was lean and muscular, with a single tattoo on his left pectoral that, quite curiously, read: I was not chosen. But even more curious was the strange marking around his neck. The flesh there was red, raw, in the shape of a necklace on the end of which hung a large cylindrical medallion.

"Now then, let's awaken our audience, shall we?" There was a surge in the Force, and Bide could sense that Trem and Ache were regaining consciousness. He cursed under his breath. It was clear to him that Paradox was very powerful and, judging by the scars on his body, equally as experienced. Bide doubted that he would be able to defeat him without relying on the dark side-but doing so would blow his cover as a Jedi, wasting the months he had spent on the mission. Ja'neel would not be pleased.

Bide stole a glance over at Ache, who was now accustoming her eyes to the light of the clearing.. Trem, it seemed, was more preoccupied with Paradox, and paid Bide little heed. Ache's gaze met Bide's, and she wrinkled her nose in confusion.

Snap-hiss. Paradox ignited his crimson lightsaber. He acknowledged Bide with a flawless Makashi salute, then slowly shifted into a mid-guard. Bide activated his own blade, flourished, and fell into his own battle stance. For a brief moment, Bide analyzed Paradox's stance, looking for a flaw; looking for an opening.

And, to his dismay, there was none. It was perfect. Bide scowled visibly, tightening the grip on his hilt.

"Getting angry, eh? Impressive, isn't it? You'll notice that my defense is flawless; you won't be able to get through it. The Dark Lord is the most proficient swordsman ever to live. I learned from the best."

"We'll see," Bide said simply. He leapt towards Paradox with impressive speed, launching a series of furious attacks. At the end of his attacks, Bide grinned as he saw an opening-he went for it.

Crack.

His attempt at exploiting the opening was met with a backhanded hilt smash to the nose. Bide staggered back a few steps and refocused his blurry vision. Paradox had not so much as moved a step.

"You'll have to fight with all of your might, Bide Shriek, if you hope to ever match me. Use your anger. Your hatred. Your disdain for me. Fight me, Bide Shriek!"

Again, the Force was flooded with anger. Ache and Trem cringed visibly; they could feel it, too.

As Bide reached deeply into the well of power he had not touched for so long, he could feel Ache's lucid blue eyes staring at him as she recited the words that, coming from anyone else, was poison to him:

"There is no emotion, there is peace."

Bide Shriek was tempted.