Drake walked into a darkened room, eyes not needing to adjust. He saw what he needed. Drawing his light-saber, he let his thumb sink into the power switch. The blade burned bright, and the darkness fled away from the yellow glow. However it still was not enough to to showcase the mechanical Predator that was hanging from the roof. It's white eyes flashed once before its clawed fingers dislodged from the eighty foot above-the-ground-ceiling. With a heavy thud and display of cracked tile, the Predator landed, and raised its head with a growl. Drake just tilted his head to the side. "Oh come on, you won't fight me like that."
The mask scoffed. "You're smart. Now you'll die." Its hands bent all the way back to its wrists, and out shot two light-saber hilts. Snapping back, the hands grabbed the cylinders in mid-air, and yellow grew out of them. Twirling both, the Predator attacked.
Drake spat at the ground, and raised his hand. The lights of the Predator went out with a flash and the hunk of metal noisily crashed to the ground in mid-sprint. Drake then said, "Did you honestly think that had any chance of killing me?"
"No...but I was expecting a good bout. You know how I always love those fights. Two of my favorite movie franchises: Star Wars and Predator, combined into a real life configuration. Do you remember the first time Big Daddy and you fought?"
Drake turned around to see king-like appearance of Crislin Dunnovoocha.
"I remember." he replied, smiling as he saw their supposed target sitting on a throne. Arms were splayed out in a lax manner while his legs were criss-crossed over each other and a mug of...Irish Cream Coffee lay in his right hand. Crislin smiled too. "Are you here to kill me Drake? Avenge your little DragonDen?"
Drake rolled his eyes. "I'm tired of not being on any sort of team. With DragonDen, we were working for you, the bad guy, but we also took down other bad-guys. Does that make us good? Bad plus bad equals good right? Not true. The rationale hurt my head every day thinking about. So now, I'm picking an easy side."
Crislin put his mug on the arm of his chair and asked, "So you're on my side now?"
Drake shook his head. "I'm on the bad side. Your side has too many angles."
Crislin stepped a few feet forward, hands in his black silk dress pants. "Why are you still talking to me when you can kill me just as easily as that Predator guard? Don't tell me it was because of my charm and fortune."
"You have no charm, but I do need your fortune. I have a score to settle with someone called Yoda."
"Yoda? As in, the Desert Master?" Crislin for once appeared astonished. Drake chuckled to himself, mentally taking a picture of Crisilin's face at that moment.
"Well it makes sense why rebels in the Far East are all riled up by this figure. What do you need with my fortune?"
"We'll get to that. First, I need to see James."
Crislin sucked in his breath through his teeth. "I'm sorry Drake, but James is dead."
Drake cut off Dunnovoocha's right hand before the man could comprehend. A howl of agony spurred from Crislin's lips, but it had a hollowing effect on Drake. He didn't need games, he wanted what he wanted.
And he wanted it now.
"Are ready to take me to him? Or will I have to remove your leg at the knee?"
Crislin painfully looked up. "I will not help you. You look tacky," He took out a screwdriver, and tossed it to Drake's feet, unfearing of Drake's glare.
"Now go screw yourself." Crislin spat at the floor. Drake burst out laughing. "That worked better than I hoped. Now I have a reason to kill you!" With a spin, yellow flashed for but a second, and Crislin's body fell forward while his head fell back.
"Now let's revive you." Putting the head back on the neck and hand back on the arm, Drake closed his eyes, and dug into the Force. It was pool of energy, circulating with individual currents; the life-force of all beings that Drake could detect. Some were completely golden, and pure of heart, while some were all black and smoky, corrupted. Drake looked for but a few more seconds, and suddenly he had found Crislin's newly released life-force.
"Gotcha." Taking hold of it spiritually, he ripped it from the pool, and jammed it back into Crislin's body. It was instantaneous. Crislin coughed violently, and then gasped as disorientation set in. Drake held him down.
"What did you do to me? What did you do?!" Crislin screamed, still gasping. Calmly, Drake said, "I have saved you. You will soon be thankful for what I have done. Now rise, my apprentice."
Dunnovocha's frantic eyes stilled, and he rose. "Master." he greeted, and Drake's heart pounded with pride for himself. He could resurrect the Dead?! Amazing! He was to be the strongest man on Earth! But he maintained a poker-face. "Take me to James."
Crislin said nothing but started walking towards a wall. With both hands, he ran his fingers down it. The wall crumbled, and revealed a cage. The man inside it looked up with spite. His hair was long and matted from the time he had spent in there, and his flesh was gaunt. Drake wasted no time in moving over to James.
"I have need of your services James." He said. James' eyes widened with recognition. "Drake, you're with him?"
"More like he's with me. I want you to make two light-sabers."
"I won't help you. You and Dunnovoocha can go to hell."
Drake pursed his lips and bent the bars enough to make a gap he could fit through. "Here we go again."
*Ten minutes later*
"What would you like the two light-sabers to be like?" James asked Crislin. Drake in the meantime was surveying the wall of blades. Some massive, some small. Then he saw it.
"James, why did you make a light-spear?" Drake questioned with genuine curiosity. He hefted it in his hands.
"Well, I use to think that if you and Big Daddy ever were to rescue me, you would probably like these. And that spear was that promise I made to you long ago when I gave Big Daddy Ravage."
Drake nodded, and clipped the weapon to his back, he'd test it later. "Now Crislin, you will practice with a standard light-saber until James is done making your custom ones. I will teach you what I know. With it, you will in turn teach others down the line."
Crislin kneeled. "Yes, my Master."
"Then we shall begin. James, grab a light-saber too."
"But I am weak my Lord." James acknowledged.
Drake walked up to James, and placed his hand on his chest. Reaching into the force, he packed tens of life-force into James. In front of his eyes, James hair receded. Color returned to his flesh and hair follicles. His clothes themselves even mended from rags into a tan t-shirt and blue khakis. James looked himself over and flexed his hands, admiring the work. Drake let out sigh, and then proceeded to empower Dunnovoocha. Needing to rest his feet, he sat on Dunnovoocha's throne.
"Now, draw your blades." James and Crislin did without hesitation.
"Fight." Drake ordered, and the flashes of red and red followed.