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Dragon Wars: Odyssey and Revolution

Episode 6: Arrival of the Jedi

Nyashquwai

The high ground had turned out to be their only advantage. That and a good fighter pilot. Cid looked down and saw that the home the tribe had built was already burning. He imagined that it was a similar sight to what was going on across the planet. An entire civilisation upended, forced to pull up their roots. The Sith defenders reloaded their cycler rifles, firing the slugs into the Sith troops below them. Shooters atop trees sniped only for explosive bolts to knock them out of their perches. Daylen checked over a warrior that fell in front of him, gritting his teeth together as the man gripped his hand.

"Family, safe?" he got out two words before his body became still.

Infidus was trembling, hiding with his blaster ready. Kaldur lived up to the name Mandalorian. He came out of cover, shooting two Sith troopers before snapping a cable around one of the young Sith defenders. Rather than being used to harm the boy though, Kaldur pulled him out of the line of fire and shot the troopers trying to kill the boy. He and Shasot moved forward, shooting before going to cover. Kaldur looked at the reflection of his gauntlet, tracking the movements of the troopers climbing up. With a nod to Shasot, they moved out and gunned down the troopers climbing up. Taral and Kust fired their light bows, the green bolts flying into the enemy.

The defenders stopped firing when they heard hissing sounds. Xenomorphs ran towards the camp like hounds, quickly, dodging any defensive fire. The runners leapt at their targets, Kaldur again pulled a defender away with his wire, blowing the runner's head apart with a well placed shot. He drew his cable back into his gauntlet and drew his secondary pistol, shooting back a runner that tried to jump him. Shasot shot at a red armoured Xenomorph, a prowler variant that was larger than the others. His slugs only bounced off of the prowler's armour. The Xenomorph hissed at Shasot and then began to approach him. Shasot reloaded the slug thrower as fast as he could, but the prowler was already jumping towards him. Two light arrows flew into the side of the Prowler, knocking it away from Shasot. He threw his rifle aside and drew his sword, stabbing it through the Prowler's head. The tail whipped at Shasot, but he grabbed it, tearing the tail off and letting the acidic blood spray onto the troopers behind the Xenomorph.

Shasot pulled his sword free and began using the Xenomorph's tail as a whip, shattering the visors and helmets of the Sith that got into the camp. He also used his sword to slice, cutting down troopers and the Xenomorph crawlers, kicking their bodies so that the spray of their blood would angle away from him and his allies. Another trooper fell before a blast flew past his head. Shasot braced himself as more troopers came over the hill, only to be shot by Kaldur. The Mandalorian drew his sword, slashing two troopers with a single strike. He briefly went back to back with Shasot, shooting his blaster whilst he lashed out with the prowler's tail. Light arrows flew alongside them, but the blaster fire from the Sith troopers continued, followed by explosions from thermal detonators. Kaldur was knocked across the floor by one explosion, Shasot however ran through the smoke. He drew the spiked tip of the Prowler's tail, spearing the grenadier through the head. A blob of acid suddenly flew into Shasot's face.

"NO!" Tarel screamed.

Shasot roared, holding his sword with both hands, running quickly at the spitter Xenomorphs. Jumping from side to side, he crossed the distance, moving in a frenzy. One spitter was beheaded, and Shasot grabbed its rib cage, angling the body to hit the troopers with the blood spray. Blaster fire hit the spitter and Shasot threw it at the troopers. He ignored the burning across his face and picked up one of the troopers rifles. He blaster other spitters and brought his sword down on other Xenomorphs, shoving them back before their blood could hit him. A Prowler lingered over him, only for electricity to fill its veins. Daylen ran to the creature's side, slamming his hand into its chest.

The hooded and wailing figure of a sorrow demon appeared over Daylen as he flash froze the creature. The bony protrusions on its back and tail became icicles and Shasot took this chance to smash the alien with the butt of his stolen rifle. He nodded in thanks to Daylen, but then shoved him into one of the tents.

Red blasts flew over Daylen's head, Shasot though was not so lucky. One hit him in the chest, followed by a dozen more across his body. He went limp, falling hard to the floor.

Taral and Kusk looked at Shasot from their perches, distress and sorrow flashed in their eyes before they buried it with focus.

A flurry of blaster bolts began hitting the village, ripping apart two more protectors. Taral fired at the Dowutin gunner, his light arrows bouncing off of the shield that the mercenary attached to his rotary cannon. The barrel span, releasing blasts that tore through the village. Explosions threw some of the protectors back, leaving them vulnerable to the approaching Xenomorphs.

Coruscant

The Jedi temple, palace of the Jedi and supposedly the headquarters of their order. Meetra rolled her eyes when it was referred to as that, it did its job well enough with the construction of four council spires, each handling a different aspect of the order. The High council for overall decisions, the council of reconciliation for diplomacy, the council of first knowledge oversaw the academy and the censorship of knowledge. That was something Meetra adamantly opposed during her time as the grandmaster and head of the high council. Despite this, Meetra still believed in the republic's ideal of democracy and had thus been outvoted as the head of the council and though she had made her voice known, a majority vote dictated that certain knowledge had to be concealed by the council. Meetra's focus however was on the council of reassignment.

When one failed the trials to determine their effectiveness as a Jedi knight, rather than just send them home with nothing, the council of reassignment would determine the attributes of the rejected recruit and then give them a task in the service corps that related to their skills. There were a few small divisions, such as engineering, agricultural, exploration, security and policing. Meetra combed over the records of rejected Jedi recruits. When she had been grand master she recruited from all walks of life, lately the standards had become more picky.

"If you tell me what you're looking for I could assist you," one of the permanent council members Jogo said.

His species...in fact, for all these years Meetra had no idea what species Jogo and Master Vrook had belonged to, green skinned, short, pointy eared and long lived. Jogo had been with the order since the days of Nomi Sunrider. He chose the council of reassignment because it best suited with his personality, to cherish what others may have seen as 'not good enough'. Dressed in a brown robe with a white coat, he was sitting in a hover unit as the centuries had not been kind to his legs, and it was only through the force that his species could move quickly alongside others.

"It isn't just about the talent, its the numbers too, I see you have Tarcs, I thought they were Xenophobic," Meetra said.

"They are isolationist, their insular behaviour and view of emotions make them ill suited for the work of a Jedi, although from a certain point of view their insular emotions might make them ideal. They were attacked by Revan during the war, several of them showed signs of force sensitivity, the republic was already helping them so the Tarc government sent some of their younger citizens to us," Jogo explained.

"I see, now this one surprises me, Verpine, they're great engineers," Meetra said.

"Careful old friend, that's generalising, but yes a lot of them are good, we just didn't have any projects for their high numbers to work on and I wanted to keep them for something...kinder," Jogo stated hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Lord Hoth has been looking to expand his forces," Jogo said and Meetra shook her head.

"Have we been assisting him?"

"Not overtly, the last time he came he only left with volunteers, many of them he rejected on account of them being too young," Jogo said.

"At least he still has principles," Meetra huffed.

"Lord Hoth believes that he is doing what is right, combating the dark side of the force, which as we know have very real and very dangerous acolytes operating even openly, but generally ignored by the republic," Jogo explained.

"Those who think they're right, are especially dangerous, when you push that button, you don't know how many are going to..." Meetra stopped, her hands shook and she took a deep breath.

Jogo said nothing, asked no question, he remembered battles of his own and the terrible price of taking the moral high ground. He also knew the great illusion such a thing could be, especially when see through another's perspective. With a telekinetic pull, he brought the data pad Meetra had been holding to his hands.

"You wanted life experience, there are at least six old soldiers, I'm going to give you the two youngest, their PTSD at least doesn't affect their ability to use blasters. We have three lightsaber duellists, five if you persevere with the other two I'm recommending, some were orphans or at least grew up in the rough neighbourhoods of worlds, are you looking for anything else specifically?" Jogo asked.

Meetra smiled, walking to Jogo's side. She walked over and highlighted several names on the data pad.

"I know it seems a lot, but I need them for a very special project," she said.

Jogo looked over the names, rubbing his lips together and humming in agreement.

Nyashquwai (Renamed Red Harvest by Yutani corporation)

The Covenant, that was the name of the music that David played in his quarters. Standing barefoot in front of an observation screen, he looked into a room where a milk skinned, giant of a humanoid was strapped down. He simultaneously watched footage on his datapad of a massive face hugger wrestling with the alien, wrapping its tentacles around the man's wrists and feet, wedging it against the wall. Despite strength that far surpassed a human, the alien was only able to struggle against the trilobite, miniature tentacles latched onto his head and neck, making him look at the orifice located in the centre of the trilobite's body. David rewound and rewatched the moment that the trilobite's barb shot into the alien's mouth, implanting him with an embryo, giving him one moment of shock before embracing him in unconsciousness. It would have been a gentle 'birth' but David wanted the creature awake, wanted to see how it would act when his new creation began to emerge. The alien struggled against his binders, roaring so loudly that the lab shook. A horrific ripping sound came out of the alien's chest, just as Shaw-02 came into the room.

"Remarkable," David said, watching the new being burst out of its victim's chest.

It crawled across the floor, already half the size of a fully grown Xenomorph.

"Many years ago Revan came to me, offering me credits, a lab, enough to turn my experience in Xenobiology and Xenobio-weaponry into a practical addition to his forces, he didn't want bestial hounds or foot soldiers though, he didn't even want a bio-weapon 'why waste a planet, why waste its people, I want a weapon not a monster' he said to me, he dared to say to me," David seethed.

He touched the glass as the white Xenomorph came towards it, unlike others it had almond shaped eyes.

"He wanted a destroyer to decimate his enemies, to die in the first wave after spreading terror, but this, my Ultramorph, perfection!" David shivered.

"We have annihilated several villages and recovered new subjects, but we lack sufficient eggs considering our prisoners," the clone said.

"A shame, we will keep them until we can return to homebase, what of the recovery of the void?" David asked.

"We've narrowed down the location, the Praetorian is already on the way, but there is something else sir, long range scanners detected several ships coming out of hyperspace, fighters," Shaw-02 said.

David looked away from the Ultramorph and smiled.

"Very well, deploy our own, welcome our guests," he said.

Red Harvest system

A Grey Delta fighter came out of hyperspace, drifting along and deploying its tracking buoys. Jacen traced his hands across the controls, remembering which buttons controlled what and where they would be. It was possible for his kind to see through the force, Jacen though was different. Adopted by master Visas Marr and her former apprentice and lover, they together taught Jacen how to utilise his other senses before they tried moving onto the force. But no matter how hard he tried, he just didn't have the gift for it. T3 was there to help him navigate as much as he was there to repair the ship. As well as brail and the unique sounds of a number of alien languages, Jacen also understood the binary speech of droids.

"Old star forged produced ship in the system, chain code identified as the Romulus, part of the Yutani conglomerates illegal task force, deploying message to any knights or frontier defence ships in the area, this is Jacen Marr of the Jedi Service Corps," he relayed the message and disconnected the ship from its hyperdrive ring.

"Move as closer to the planet T3, raise shields, there are foul things on that ship and even fouler things on the planet," he stated, the astromech droid beeping in response.

"Yeah, I know, I can sense the battle going on down there," Jacen said. "Hail the ship," he added.

T3's head whirled as it beeped.

"Hey, the law is the law buddy I can't just open fire on enemy combatants," he said.

T3 beeped again, confirming that a link had been made to the ship's bridge.

"Romulus, this is Jacen Marr of the Jedi Service corps, I'm currently tracking a group of criminals I believe have found their way onto this planet, per the Amidala accords and the rules of engagement I identify myself and humble request that you Sith remnant assholes fire upon my ship so that I have the excuse to fight you fascists," Jacen explained.

T3's beeps took on a tone of annoyance.

"I bet they're powering their weapons up," Jacen grinned.

The Delta swerved, avoiding a volley of turbo laser fire. T3 had an assortment of programs installed within its processor, computer and lock slicing, first aid, blaster combat, demolitions and piloting. Most droids could co or autopilot, but short of the Trade federation droid ships very few droids specialised in fighter piloting. T3's piloting program had been based specifically on the technique and psychological profile of one republic pilot, Carth Onasi. To anyone else, it would seem as if the war hero himself was dodging the blaster barrage and missiles. Fighters deployed from the Romulus and T3 used the planet's gravity well as an added defensive manoeuvre.

Clouds and a distant sea entered the droid's field of view. Jacen got a brief feel for the life on the planet, the creatures and the people. There was a fight, but it was only his empathy and in some ways his common sense that told him that families and lovers were being ripped apart. The Delta dived towards the water, adjusting speed at the last moment to dodge the blasts the interceptors fired. Just as T3 pulled up, he adjusted the angle of the fighter, whilst Jacen altered the speed with a few clicks of the right buttons, feeling the way the ship shuddered, hearing the crash of the waves. The Delta darted just as something came out of the water, a creature resembling a shark and a whale, opening its great maw and clipping one of the interceptor's wings. The Sith fighter veered out of control, slamming into the ally beside it. T3's beeping sounded like giggles to Jacen's ears.

"Bigger fish? Well what if you're the biggest fish?" He asked in response to the droid's joke.

Daylen let out heavy breaths, running and diving for cover as the mercenary continued to fire his rotary blaster. When he would come around a corner, screech, an xenomorph would be there, making it necessary for him to use his mana. A fireball, mana bolt, icicle, he tried to conjure again but his mana was low. He imagined the chart, the willpower and magic, the feats and spells he knew gone, just out of his reach. Another hiss ran in his ear and Daylen turned, moving just as a blaster bolt blew the Xenomorph crawler's head open. The barrel of Infidus's barrel smoked, the young man shaking, looking at Daylen.

"Where is your power?" He asked.

"Don't allow what he says to get into your head apprentice, keep calm, wait for your mana to charge, look for your opening and then strike," he heard a familiar voice.

But it wasn't a mage this time, instead it was a man in armour, robes with a flaming sword on his chest plate. Knight-commander Greaigoir stood with the same discipline and dignity, spoke with the same unsympathetic firmness that Daylen remembered. The young man grit his teeth together, listening to the sound of the rotary cannon, that barrage of noise 'jut, jut, jut,' there was an opening, it was fast but there was an opening.

"Every opponent has a tell, a habit they can't shake off, even in a life and death fight, observe your opponent and exploit that gap even if it's just for a few seconds," the Templar, a man who had dedicated his life to watching and restraining his mage charges, advised the apprentice he didn't seem to like very much.

'He never smiled at anyone,' Daylen reminded himself he wasn't special.

The mercenary was nothing special either, just a big guy with a big gun. Daylen took a deep breath, stilled his heart, watched the barrel rotate, watched the mercenary spin and then saw the opening.

"THERE!" Daylen threw a fireball from his hand.

It was no meant to blow anything up, just utilise the gap in the barrel firing to superheat the rotary gun. Overheated, the safety measures kicked in and stopped the weapon from firing. The mercenary cursed, banging his weapon, looking at the glowing red barrel in shock. Kaldur came out of cover and fired his twin blasters, hitting the Dowutin gunner several times in the chest. The Mandalorian span his pistols before putting them back in their holsters. Drawing his secondary blaster, he aimed at the Sith troopers coming up the hill.

"Second wave," he said.

"My heart, we will avenge him," Kusk said to Taral, both lingering over Shasot.

Cid shot down two more interceptors, looking to the clouds as more came in from orbit. He adjusted the positioning of his turret and rotated his ship, hearing the old Sith fighter creak as its hull tore. Targeting the interceptors as they came towards him, Cid fired a few bursts from his cannons, destroying at least one before his wingmen came through. The brave but inexperienced Sith pilots were able to destroy two before they were shot in a flurry of red blasts. Cid strafed across the area, hitting the Sith reinforcements coming up the hill. A rocket suddenly slammed into the belly of the old fighter. The Khaleesh handed the launcher back to the rocket trooper, pointing at the ship as it came down. He fired a few shots from his blaster, forcing some of the Sith defenders to take cover. Kaldur and Daylen watched Cid's fighter come down, the former reloading his blasters with fresh cells.

"I thought you Mandos had indestructible armour, why aren't you tanking them?" Infidus asked.

"Those Mandalorians use Beskar, hard metal, but when they over rely on it, they lose something as warriors," Kaldur said.

"What?" Daylen asked in genuine interest.

"The ability to avoid getting hit," Kaldur slid the loading mechanisms back on his Westar-34's.

He came out of cover, firing the blasters in a rhythm, hitting the troopers before they could fire. Moving one arm to the side, he shot marksman, causing the man to shoot his own allies in his death throes. Kaldur used his own enemies as covers, shooting them, and immediately after the people behind them as they fell down. Daylen realised it wasn't a case of the man having more accuracy than his enemies, he was just quicker on the firing. It was just the same as magic spells, or arrows, some of the best had the method of firing down to an art form that there was no real effort required. The battle told him that these human troops were not used to opponents that fought back, or they were at least out of practice when it came to fighting. Out of practice, inexperienced in actual fighting, perhaps they were rookies.

Kaldur put his twin blasters back in their holsters, quickly drawing his KYD-21 blaster, holding with his free hand a trooper with a heavy repeating blaster. He fired a few shots at the Xenomorph spitters, hitting them before their handlers could deploy them. The exploding heads of the Xenomorph melted the handlers with their blood. Kaldur fired a few bursts with the heavy repeater, cutting through some Xenomorphs that tried to get to him. He threw the weapon away in disdain and aimed his blaster. A blob of acid suddenly struck it, prompting him to throw it a trooper coming up the hill. He fired his cable, pulling the trooper into the path of the spitter's projectiles.

"Help him," Taral commanded.

The hunter fired his light bow, his lover firing with the cycler rifle, hitting the spitter and troopers. Daylen looked at his hand, focusing on trying to gather his flames.

"Contain you anger and your fear, use them but do not let them rule you, or else you might leave yourself vulnerable to possession," the Knight-Commander said.

Cid's fighter had slammed into the ground, the pilot came out, looking to the Khaleesh coming towards him. Rather than draw his Bryar pistol, Cid drew the sword at his waist. He jumped off of the fighter and onto the dirt, holding his sword at the ready as the Khaleesh extended and lit the ends of his shock staff. There was a beat of silence before the duellists slammed their weapons together.

"Pull back to shelter, don't go too far out," Taral warned his fellows.

But a tail suddenly skewered two of the Sith defenders. A third looked up at the face of a Xenomorph that stood taller than the others, the curve of its head more elaborately detailed than the crawlers. The tribesman's head exploded as the Praetorian's inner jaw pierced his skull. Kaldur was about to draw his pistol and shoot it when a bolt flew into his leg, drawing a yell from him as he fell.

"NO DON'T!" he yelled at Kusk as she ran towards him.

She dived, a bolt hitting her back as she rolled to cover with the Mandalorian. More remnant troopers came up, their weapons ready. Taral looked at his tribesmen dead on the floor, looking out across the gap between himself and the Mandalorian for any trace of his lover. Daylen snarled in frustration as he gathered fire in his hand.

"COME ON!" he yelled.

'Keep it,, keep it, keep it,' he thought to himself as he ran across the field, down the hill and straight towards the Praetorian.

"Have you forgotten your teachings Amell, no fear, you must maintain discipline and control," he heard Greagoir speak in his head.

"STOP TALKING!" Daylen yelled.

He was about to throw the fire when he felt a jolt run through his body. There was a flash in his mind, a horned monster grinning at him, multiple eyes blinking whilst many voices laughed at him. The fire died down and Daylen fell to the ground, the Praetorian hissing at him as it took a few steps towards him. Kaldur looked down at the dead woman that sacrificed herself for him, his hands shaking before he looked over the cover, seeing the troopers getting ready for a second strike. Infidus looked up in fear, seeing the Sith interceptors approaching.

Suddenly, blasts hit the interceptors and a grey fighter swooped down.

A man in black robes and a hood landed between Daylen and the Praetorian. The flap on his back waist billowed in the wind, whilst he dragged the cane he was holding across the grass. He tilted his head, hearing the clicks of the trooper's and their blasters, the hissing of the Praetorian and the quieter sounds of the creature's skeletal frame moving. The troopers had stopped in their tracks, even Cid and the Khaleesh hunter had stopped their duel to see the new arrival.

Jacen brought his cane up his face, taking a deep breath to centre himself. He absorbed every sound, calculated the distances of his enemies and the size of the Praetorian as well as who was friend and foe.

Then he ignited split his cane apart and ignited his short lightsabers. With a great hum, azure blades sprang to life and in two strikes, Jacen cut off the Praetorian's tail and then its head. The weapon cauterised the Xenomorph's wounds, cancelling out the hazard of its acidic blood. Blasters began to fire at the Jedi, who moved his arms with precise timing, reacting to the sounds and that brief moment when the air shifted around him, allowing him at the last second to block the projectiles. He moved quickly, no movement wasted, no flash or rhythm to his movement. Infidus always imagined stylish fighters when he heard of Jedi, but Jacen was anything but graceful. He moved like the blindman he was, just barely avoiding some blasts. But he struck with the brute force of a thug, cleaving through any trooper that didn't run from the flurry of blue blades.

"Use it Daylen, use it, a battle can shift with the slightest change, USE IT!" Greagoir yelled.

It was as if the Knight-Commander was touching his shoulder. Whatever annoyance and frustration Daylen felt before was replaced, by the urge to not fail, to not need this Jedi to turn the tide. Bolts flew towards him and he closed his fist, conjuring a disc of mana, a shield that protected him.

'Discipline and calmness, control of your breathing, of your thoughts, replace fear with caution, anger with focus, total concentration, primal road, path of fire, flaming weapons!'

His thoughts gave way to energy, which spread, running through those he considered allies. The bow wielding hunter, the rogue pilot duellist, and the member of a warrior culture.

'Yes, this is a party,' he thought.

Taral was astonished, but not at all displeased that the bolts he released from his bow had becoming projectiles of fire, melting holes through the enemy troopers. Kaldur rolled out of fire, firing his duel pistols in a barrage of flaming blasts. A fiery sword met an electrostaff, the Khaleesh bounty hunter was impressed, bowing his head slightly before shoving Cid back. He dropped a smoke bomb, making Cid cough from breathing in the offensive substance. Cid expected an attack to come, but the hunter had retreated. He drew his Bryar pistol and ran to Kaldur, shooting at the surprised troopers, their own bolts thrown back at them by the Jedi whilst the Sith Hunter released fiery arrows that created lines of fire. But they were the line, the warriors empowered by the mage.

There was a sudden explosion, a shake in the earth. The troopers looked up in fear as the mountain shattered. It emerged from the rubble, hovering over the region, the objective of the decimated protectors and their salvation. Jacen tilted his head as he heard T3 beep over his ear piece.

"Derriphan-class battleship huh, pretty damn old, Naga Sadow's era if I'm not mistaken," he muttered.

He turned to where he felt Daylen was standing. Not so much as sensed, as from the perspective of the force there was nothing there. That's how Jacen knew he had found exactly who his master was searching for. The remnant troopers were in full retreat, Jacen reactivated his sabers and brought them back together into his cane.

"You must be what all the fuss is about, nice to finally meet you," he said.

Romulus

There was no music playing inside David's quarters, only the crashing of glass and other expensive objects. David let out a great bellow, a scream that seemed childish, overacted in a way. Shaw-02 stood at ease, watching the tantrum of her creator, remaining calm as he threw data pads and forced tears out of his eyes.

"No, my Praetorian, the perfect, no, NO!" he screamed.

She had just given him the news of the last wave's retreat. David smashed his fist through the wall so hard that he had left an imprint, the paint over his hand scraped off, revealing the dented alloy that was his right hand. Bounding across the room, he stepped through his glass coffee table, not caring that the shards pierced his feet. Instead of blood though, white fluid was left with each step he took towards the clone. David grabbed her arm and dug his fingers into her cheeks, slamming her against the wall. He increased the pressure on her arm, the crack of a bone breaking echoed in the room but the woman showed no reaction, she just looked at David, his lip quivered and his once sad eyes narrow in fury, squeezing her face.

"The void, I want it, I want it now, writhing, struggling, screaming before we implant it, it will serve as the egg for the perfect life form," he spoke as if he was angry, or pretending to be, but gradually his voice returned to a calm state.

He loosened his grip on her cheeks and moved his head down, awkwardly spreading his lips across hers.

"Is that right?" he asked.

"I would not know," she retorted.

He let go of her arm, not seeming to notice that it was dangling from the elbow as he stepped back.

"Show me how it is done," he commanded.

She gripped the back of his head with her free hand, pulling his face down to hers. This time their lips met in a passionate embrace, a perfect kiss that began lustful and shifted into a tender, soft, and almost loving touch. Their lips parted and a slimmer of fear cross Shaw 02's face, he felt that fear run through her hand. Despite her professional, subservient demeanour returning, the damage was already done. It both angered and elated him to see and feel for a moment an echo of the clone's donor. Smiling, he tenderly took her into his arms and carried her across the room. This time he understood enough to exchange kisses with her as if they were lovers. He carried her to the test chamber, gently placing her on the table.

"The history of the Jedi and their past conflicts, as well as my own predictions on the nature of heroic and desperate individuals tells me that eventually they will attempt an attack upon this ship, we'd best prepare for it," he gave her a final kiss before walking out of the chamber, closing the door behind him.

The spores around Shaw 02 began to open, releasing particles she quickly breathed in. She gasped and began to convulse in pain as her eyes turned red and blood began to leak out. David combed back his hair and pushed a few buttons on his desk's console, barriers slid over the lab's windows, muffling out the sounds within. Then he typed out the frequency to the armoury.

"Gunnery chief, prepare the new weapons and suits, I want to welcome our incoming guests," David put on an off putting smile.

"Yes sir!"

Next Episode 7: The demon awakens

I hope everyone enjoyed these first six chapters, Daylen formulates a plan to keep the Sith tribe safe and faces the worst of David's creations.