"What're we going to do?"

Finn held his head in one hand, cringing as he looked at Poe. He wasn't sure what hurt worse. His pride, or his fractured tibia. The Mandalorians were muttering to one another, clearly ashamed with their pitiful performance against the two mercenaries as Poe administered to Finn…whilst Zack, in turn, tended to the Mandalorians and THEIR wounds.

"Hey, thanks for helping." Poe added as the "blind" Sith smiled in his direction and then finished a proper bacta application on his current patient. "We weren't sure you'd come…"

Indeed, Zack had actually wanted to speak to Finn and Poe for quite some time. He had a feeling those two weren't too far gone into the Dark Side, and could be reached. The problem would be confessing who he really was…if they could handle it. But first thing's first. He had wounded men to tend to.

"We're really out of shape." One Mandalorian groaned. "Our economy going down the tubes only made our weaponry and armor worse, and our spirit has just drained right out of our people…"

"It's not the same as it used to be when YOU were there, Kid." Another Mandalorian said as Finn sighed and Zack found a question rising up.

"Why do they call you "Kid"? You're OLDER than some of these guys." He inquired.

"I was called "The Kid" back home, my dad had this big farm and he…he got real bad after my mother left. He hurt me once, smacked the shit out of me and…" Finn tried to recall what happened next but to this day, his head ached whenever he tried concentrating. He gripped his skull, Poe looking concerned, a hand on Finn's shoulder as the dark-skinned Sith apprentice continued. "…I was just a kid to the neighborhood cuz my dad almost never called me by my name around folks. I was just "Kid". Then one day I…I think I DID something and…and I leveled the house and I never saw my dad again, and nobody ever called me "Kid" in a mocking way. Now I was the kid who had sent his pa packing."

"The farm was like, in CHUNKS, man." One Mandalorian said, stretching his hands wide, fingers splaying. "Like someone picked it up and ripped pieces off and dropped it back where he found it!"

"Yeah, and their vehicle was halfway buried in the dirt, and half EXPLODED. Amazing." Another added as they all nodded and Zack whistled.

"Maybe your Force powers manifested." Zack reasoned. "I can't think of any other explanation…"

"I thought so too but I've NEVER done anything like that again. If it WAS just my Force powers, why did it never happen again?" Finn asked. "It's not like I never got into another dangerous situation or got mad or furious again…" He muttered.

"Good point." Zack remarked. He'd heard from the two apprentices about what Frequency and Ember had done, and evidently they, too, were a dyad. He wondered…could ANYONE be a dyad? Did it require some sort of deep connection of love? That would make sense…

"What were YOUR parents like?" Poe asked as Zack blinked, staring in his direction.

"Well, I, uh…only had a dad. I've…he's long gone." Zack trailed off, his tone quieting slightly.

Indeed, he'd been speaking with Luke and Leia before he came to help Poe and Finn and they'd told him about his father, Morgan, and how they were trying to find Morgan's body. Evidently, there'd been a break-in in the morgue at the capital of the New Republic, which they had only just noticed…which made sense, it'd been a hectic couple of months! Zack had known for a while his father was probably gone forever but…hearing his body was gone had been a deep blow.

There was good news, though. A little letter had been left behind that read "I'll bring it back, I promise".

"I was hoping to visit his body to…pay respects, I only recently found out he died, he'd been out of my life for so long and…and…" Zack tried to recompose himself, his body slightly shaking. "…but they can't find the body and…I…" He couldn't go on, he cringed and bit into his lip. "I…I need to finish this." He said as he began re-fitting a Mandalorian warrior's arm back into his socket, Finn and Poe glancing at one another.

Meanwhile, Luke was busy at Naboo. They hadn't wanted to bend the knee to Darth Plagueis and he hadn't taken that well at all. It was now one of many a planet that now had a recent infestation of rather nasty, unpleasant "monsters" that were terrorizing and slaughtering the inhabitants, and he'd gone in, undercover, to try and deal with it. Hiding behind a large hill, he held his communicator up, gazing across the valley, speaking to Leia.

"I see them, alright." He murmured, eyes narrowing. "Something's wrong, Leia. VERY wrong."

They were twi'lek warriors but something was very…very wrong. Chunks of their head tentacles were missing. Teeth were gone, whole rows in some cases. One or two had sunken-in eye sockets, blood drizzled out their mouths. They looked more dead than alive, and their movements were rather jerky, as if they were puppets on strings, being controlled by a half-drunk puppeteer!

"They look as though someone dug them out of their graves." Luke reported. "I'll keep the channel open while I deal with them." He said. "They won't reach the capitol on MY watch." He insisted as he put his communicator back onto his belt and then raced down the hill, drawing his saber, seeing that the twi'leks were racing, with torches in hand, towards a nearby village!

Luke reached out with the Force, concentrating, but…

No. There wasn't any trace of the Living Force among these things. He had hoped perhaps they were just under some sort of Dark Side spell but…

There was nothing else to be done.

Luke's lightsaber sang through the air as he did a sliding sweep, and SAAA-SRRZZZZZKKK! It sliced through two twi'lek shamblers at once, and they were cut clean in half, bodies flopping to the ground. He launched himself through the air then, kicking off the ground and THWAA-SCHWOOOOSH! He brought his lightsaber down and THWAA-SCHWULLGH. Another shambler was cut down the middle as he rose up and held his lightsaber up.

The twi'leks, so mutated and looking horrific in form and function, seemed to hiss and snarl, sounding more like injured animals than people. They raced at him, dropping their torches, gnashing their teeth, leaping at Luke as he spread his arms out and THWOOOM! Exerted full Force Push to shove them down, onto their backs before he leaped through the air and brought his lightsaber down on one of the monster's hearts.

But the thing wouldn't die. It stared stupidly at him, then angrily swiped and slashed at him with its overly long fingernails it had. Luke withdrew the saber quickly and then sliced its head off instead when it lunged at him, and he turned around. His eyes went wide in shock, seeing the twi'lek shamblers that he'd sliced at previously were getting back up! They didn't look dead at all.

No matter how many times he cut them, it seemed…they just wouldn't die. Were they invincible?

"Seems you started the party WITHOUT me." A voice rang out. "Duck down."

Luke did just that, and a good thing too, because a moment later, gigantic, enormous chunks of earth and rock soared through the air with the force of a cannon ball! They struck the horrific shambling imitations of twi'leks, and the shamblers began to be CHUNKED right in front of Luke's eyes. The oncoming onslaught of hard rock and chunks of the ground turned the creatures into little more than quivering piles of flesh, bone and fat, just chunks of fleshy jelly flopping all around as a man made his way from out of a nearby speeder.

He was wearing a plain, long-sleeve puffy jacket, with wrapped-up-in-cloth hands, black boots, and he had a brownish beard over his face, brown eyes, and a brown belt with a potent-looking hand cannon pistol in a holster. He was wearing a hood to match the plain, whitish jacket which covered up quite a good chunk of his head, though it made his face visible enough for Luke to see him, and he ALSO noticed the lightsaber he had, a lovely golden one at that.

"Well, you're a welcome sight!" Luke said with a smile. "You look…sort of familiar, do I know you?" He inquired. "My name's Luke-"

"Yes, I know about you, my father, Morgan told me about you." The man said as Luke raised an eyebrow up. Wait, a Force user, a Jedi, who had a father named Morgan…it was a slight reach, but…those eyes WERE so familiar and…

"Morgan Katarn?"

"Yes. I'm Kyle, his son." Kyle Katarn said. "I've heard a LOT about you, Mr. Skywalker."

Luke warmly smiled, extending a hand. "It's so nice to meet you." He told Kyle, who shook his hand. "I have to say, my friend Zack is going to be really happy to meet you, Morgan was HIS father too, evidently."

"Ahh, I heard about him as well. Evidently my father spent some time on LOGOS while I was working for the Empire in the old days." Morgan admitted. "I always wanted to ask him about it, but…well, I never got the chance. I might, however, get that chance one day. I've got a new master who's well-skilled in an art that people in this galaxy are just scratching the surface of…the ability to bring people back to life."

Luke looked at him, astounded, before a very unpleasant tickling sensation rose up in him, and he stepped back. "…who IS this master?" He wanted to know.

It was a good thing he HAD stepped back, because a moment later he barely got the lightsaber strike blocked, as the hood flopped down in the swift attack Kyle had tried. Now Luke saw something was very wrong with Kyle. He had a very clear, nasty head wound that the hood had been covering up, right on his temple, and it looked like it, frankly, should have been fatal. He grappled with Kyle, who shook his head slightly as a small grin spread over his face.

"Well, you can ask him anything you want, Luke…he's right behind you."

Luke felt the hum of the weapon right up against his neck. "…drop the saber. We don't want to damage such a FINE body like yours." He heard the Soul of the Sith speak as the deadly guitar/lightsaber weapon softly hummed in the air. Luke put his own lightsaber down as Kyle sheathed his as well. "See, Kyle's now MY jedi knight…and my top partner in crime." He chuckled. "I SUSPECTED you weren't actually dead. I've got a nice, long contact ring of servants under my influence who had noticed a surprisingly familiar Jedi running around, and they sent me pictures. I thought, perhaps, it was you, that you'd faked your death with the help of that "Darth Mendax", but I wanted to be sure. I knew Naboo was important to you and the New Republic, it's one of the most resource-filled, and respected worlds of all, and it, along with planets like Tattooine have immense sentimental value to your family. So I had quite a few of my men causing trouble in the hopes that you or your sister showed up. You just can't help yourself…you're too kind for your own good." He told Luke with a sigh. "It's an admirable trait…but unfortunately for you…one I can so EASILY make use of."

The Soul of the Sith hissed in laughter. "Now then…get to marching. Kyle's speeder has plenty of room for us all, Mr. Skywalker…"

…

…

…

… "Why did you want to talk to me here?"

The Axe of the Sith quietly sipped on the glass of wine he had, looking in the Soul of the Sith's direction. They were in a very lively bar populated entirely by Darth Plagueis's forces, which the Soul had personally requested be crafted. Fine wine bottles laid on the small, circular table before them as the two Sith sat on curved, comfy couches, with the Soul laying one leg over the other, and the Axe quietly gazing at him.

The Axe's hood was gone, revealing their true form…and they looked rather…strange. Their head appeared to be faintly humanoid but…the eyes were strange, with oddly-colored scelera. It was as if he was "off"…designed not quite right. But when he sipped from the wine glass, his visage changed, and the head now became less humanoid, and more like a kind of living watercolor painting meant to look like a human.

"Good wine, I admit…but I'm taking a big risk being here. After all, Darth Plagueis wasn't too happy with me giving up my position to Rose…especially since she lost in the end." The Axe confessed.

"Hey, you trained her real well, nobody could have foreseen she'd turn traitor." The Soul insisted with surprising warmth. "You fascinate me. I've had a wine with every member of our little cadre but you, and I figured it'd be nice to chat. Tell me…why do you look so much different every time you speak to someone?"

"My true appearance is a matter of your perception." The Axe said. "So much so I NEED to wear the helmet otherwise. Can you imagine thousands of people staring at me? I'd have no sense of self otherwise." He remarked. "In limiting myself, I can better BE myself, at my true power. Wearing a mask…shows a more real "me"."

"I understand." The Soul said. "I believe our truly biggest threat is that "Darth Mendax" character. I'd prefer to have him on our side, but…well, if he won't join willingly, I can make him join."

"I didn't think anyone besides perhaps our master could use the powers of the Force to persuade someone permanently into joining our cause." The Axe was confused, he tilted his head a bit as the Soul chuckled.

"You misunderstand. I'm going to make him my partner in crime, as I did Kyle Katarn."

"How did you DO that? He's so…cheery around you." The Axe asked. "And from what I know of him, he's not exactly…a fan of the Sith. Especially not one like you. You're practically a stereotype of everything the Jedi call us, a cruel, violent Sith that enjoys killing. I've heard whispers your FULL title's "the Sinister Soul of the Sith"…"

The Soul slowly sipped on his wine, sighing a bit before he spoke. "I didn't start out that way. I grew up in a pretty decent place…with loving parents, good friends, and I lived in a beautiful world." He held the wine glass up, and his tone became wistful and longing. "I was brought here by Darth Plagueis around the same time he called upon the Skull, and he, like me, also comes from Earth. It really is a beautiful planet. I'd tell you to visit, but they're not at their best in this time period."

The Axe's eyes…or what passed for it…widened slightly as he whistled. "Darth Plagueis truly is amazing to have such powers."

"I couldn't help but be in awe…despite how much he terrified me." The Soul confessed. "But I didn't want to die. He knew I could be useful, I had immensely incredible healing powers and he, at the time, was so badly ravaged and wrecked that no ordinary medicine could heal him. This was decades before Bacta was a thing…and the healing powers of the Force were beyond him. He'd never be able to touch something bathed in the softness of the Light. But I…I COULD heal him. In exchange, he said he'd let me live. So I was stuck here, in this galaxy, with only my guitar with me." He sighed. "Our Lord wanted me to keep working for him, and all I wanted…was a friend. I knew I was stuck here, but if I could get a good friend or two…I could handle it. You can endure much…if you're alongside someone who loves you."

"How'd it go?" The Axe asked, sounding very intrigued indeed.

How did it go? Well, terribly.

He wasn't into hurting other people…let alone killing them. Worse still, the only people working alongside Darth Plagueis at the time were mercenaries, who's allegiance was bought with coin. Luckily for the Soul, when he'd arrived, he had brought with him his OWN coin, and the metals they were made of were incredibly rare in the time period he found himself trapped in. He didn't have to worry about money.

So he figured he'd just…buy himself some company. He'd pay these mercenaries to basically do any of his new master's orders, and in exchange, they'd become his friend. He still felt bad about paying mercenaries to hurt people but…he had to shove that feeling aside. After all, Darth Plagueis's wrath was terrible to behold.

"Let me get this right. You want us to be your friend and to hit these towns you marked down for Darth Plagueis?" A very big, burly-looking, insectoid alien asked, standing alongside a thick-tusk-having gamorrean, and a Naboo woman with dark-looking facial tattoos on her face. They looked at one another, the mercenaries glancing from one to the other, then the map on the table out in the nice little orchard they were meeting in, then at the Soul of the Sith…back when his name had been Hiss T. Ario.

"Yeah. I can pay for drinks and everything once you're finished-" Hiss began to offer…

Before SCHAA-THWOOONK! His body was sent flying, it crumbled against a tree, the sheer force of the blow almost breaking it in half as the mercenaries laughed.

"HA! As if we'd work with a scrawny little shrimp like YOU!?" The biggest one snorted.

"Can't believe he died from that one strike alone, what a dummy!" The woman laughed.

"Yeah, the sheer BALLS on him to think he could get US to do HIS dirty work…" The gamorrean snorted as they walked off, laughing uproariously, heading for an inn down the road…

Unaware Hiss was rising up. His eyes glittered as he laid a clawed hand on his chest and focused. Sure enough, the potent skill he'd spent years training to develop rose up in him, as the Force seemed to SHRIEK in protest. It was as if it couldn't believe that a Sith was using this ability…

He cringed and groaned. It was incredibly difficult, the Force was fighting him all the way, it did NOT want him to use this skill, and in the end…something happened. He wasn't exactly fully healed. He was "patched up"…

But as he opened the door to the inn, and the three mercenaries and those inside the inn stared, they could tell something was VERY wrong…because he was now holding his own head in one hand. "It appears my healing skills don't quite translate well to this realm." He confessed. "Still, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. Why don't we pick up where we left off?"

"You're quite the boneheaded little bastard." The gamorrean grumbled as the mercenaries rose up, drawing their weapons. "If you can still move even when your head is off…FINE! We'll just break you into chunks and feed you to the dogs!"

"No, I don't think you will." Hiss said as he snapped his clawed digits with his free hand…and his lightsaber, which had been hidden behind his back, on his belt, sailed through the air. There was a horrifying, sizzling sound, and the mercenaries were being shish-kebabed right in front of everyone else's eyes as he put his head back on, cringing a bit. "OOOGH…the Force reeeaaaally did not want me to heal myself." He muttered as he brought his lightsaber back. One of the mercenaries, the woman, was trying to crawl to one of the bar patrons as they gaped in shock. She grabbed his leg, tugging on it as Hiss advanced on her.

"H-Help…m-me…"

SCHAA-THRUNNK. He dug his foot into her neck and THAA-SHRUNK. Broke it clean off! The bar patron turned pale as can be as Hiss nonchalantly dragged her body towards the others, and began to hum merrily as he swirled his hands over their bodies, looking up and around at the many inhabitants of the bar.

"I'm sorry about the mess…I'll have it cleaned up soon." He offered. "You should all leave, though. You may not want to see this. It won't be pretty."

"I learned then and there that my skills at what we call "life magic" still lingered even here in THIS realm. But I could no longer use it properly, the way I once had. I couldn't properly heal wounds without IMMENSE agony to myself. The first time I tried it, my head fell clean off, but…well, I survived. I was tough." The Soul confessed. "And on top of that, I had once been able to bring the dead back to life where I was from. I was so proud of my skills in life magic…" He quietly sighed, shaking his head. "It meant so much for people to have those they loved back…even if only for a few minutes. But…here, I can't do that. I can only bring back a flimsy veneer of them. They're zombies, really…"

"Well…that's surprising…" The Axe commented. "The walking dead, under your command…"

"Yes, that's when I really began killing. My passion for friends translated well with my new skills. When I kill…I make friends of my own. Even those old mercenaries from eons ago are still around, though…practically used up." The Soul cheekily admitted with a shrug before he swigged some more wine. "They're falling apart, really. I almost felt bad for them…until I remember how they broke my back and tried to kill me."

"So the more corpses you have on the battlefield, the more sure you are of victory." The Axe reasoned.

"And…they can't complain about my guitar skills." The Soul added cheekily.

"That's a little unfair to yourself, you're very good at it." The Axe admitted as the Soul smiled kindly back at him.

"Thanks. Still…" His expression turned mournful. "…I got really tired of it. Winning didn't give me satisfaction. It was boring to just kill random people and make them lackeys. Then I found the next best thing. Force users…or rather…Jedi." He smiled in delight. "Ironic, isn't it? Since Jedi and Sith HATE each other. But I tried my skill out on a near-dead Jedi I found and…well, now Kyle Katarn works for me. My new best friend. Been so for well over two years now." He added with a big smile. "He's a real pal."

"Do you ever worry he'll turn on you?" The Axe asked. "He seems to have MUCH more of his mind."

"Yes. His mind's very stable. But that, in a way…makes the influence better. A dumb, mindless brute can rebel because there's so little of my skill to latch ONTO. But the more calm and reasonable the mind…the more firmly my unique life spell entrenches itself." The Soul confessed before he looked at the nearby clock on the wall. "Oh! Look at the time. Better get going." He remarked, putting down a small bunch of coins on the table. "Here…my treat." He offered as the Axe watched him leave, heading out the bar, down the hall.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself." Kyle Katarn said as Hiss. T. Ario turned the corner and smiled at his compatriot in crime.

"Too bad you couldn't come in. The spell doesn't keep you from enjoying booze or food…"

"The other patrons would have caused a scene at the sight of me." Kyle insisted.

"If any of them had tried something, I'd cut them down." The Soul insisted. "But listen…I've got a big job for you. See…" The Soul hesitated, a tiny twinge of regret swelling in him. "…we're going to go kill your brother, Zack."

"…I…see…" Zack murmured.

"Yes, and he's currently actually with the Sith apprentices, Finn and Poe, Darth Raize and Furiosa's second in command." The Soul of the Sith confessed. "I wasn't sure at first, but I had my spies bring me lots and LOTS of footage. I combed through it for hours…I'm sure it's him. We're going to wipe them ALL out, all three of them. Then…we'll have your brother joining our ranks, just like we're going to have Luke join us." The Soul offered. "How's that sound?"

"…well…"

A rather horrifying smile spread slowly across Kyle Katarn's lips. "Sounds pretty good, actually…"

MEANWHILE…ON A PLANET FAR, FAR AWAY…

Leia very gently put a hand on Zack's shoulder as he looked down at what laid upon the morgue flatbed. He was struggling hard not to cry, but failing miserably as he clutched what had been his father's hand. Yet despite how well-done the coroner had apparently done on his father, fixing up what apparently had been a horrific beheading from the faint scars on the neck, despite how good he looked…

It wasn't his dad. It was something else now. Not even an empty shell. It was as if his father had never inhabited it at all. Morgan Katarn's body seemed too still, too silent to have ever been alive at all.

"…I…" Zack looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't. He was glad Leia had called him to tell him that the body had been returned, but…now that he was actually here, it was as if any attempt at getting words out didn't just stay stuck in his throat. No, it was as if his lungs were being squeezed any time he tried to speak. The air tasted like ashes around him. It was as if someone had forced chalk onto his tongue and scraped it up and down, he couldn't get a word out. All he could do was cry.

"Do you…want me to leave?" Leia nervously inquired. "I can if you want." She added gently. "But I don't think you're in a good place right now, I want to be here for you." She added gently.

"…just…five minutes."

Or at least, that was what it SOUNDED like he said. It was more blubbering mumbling than anything. Leia hesitated, then slowly left the room as Zack finally collapsed on his dad's chest, and began to scream into it again…and again…and again.

At last…he lifted his head up. He stared across the room, and he found his hands digging into his father's chest.

"Come on. Walk through that door." He quietly begged. "Bring him here. I don't care if its just his ghost. Give me SOMETHING." He begged of the Force.

"…he can't just pop up when you want." He heard a quiet, sad voice in his head. "You're not in a good place right now. If you tried to see him…he wouldn't look like you want him to look. He wouldn't sound like Dad. He wouldn't BE Dad."

"…but it…it hurts." Zack whispered. "I just want something. ANYTHING. Can't you do that?" He begged of the Force.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he knew it was the real, actual Leia.

"Come on." She said softly. "Let's go talk."

He let her bring him outside of the room and they sat, together, in the waiting room outside, Zack just covering his face. Leia gently patted his back, as he, in turn, tried to get his sobs under control. It took a long…

LONG time.

Leia said nothing. She just listened as Zack finally stopped crying long enough to speak. And…he just…talked. He talked about how he remembered his father's voice. The smell of his dad after a long day. The softness of his eyes. And Leia just listened.

It was all Zack really needed. He let her listen as he spoke, and that was all it took. And when it was over, she just held his hand.

"Would you like to get a drink? Would that help?"

"No."

"Do you want to just sit here some more?"

"…yes."

And so Leia sat, patiently, and soothingly. Zack found, at long last, a small smile had come to his face as he turned to her.

"You know, you're…you're a great "mom"." He confessed.

"Yeah…I get that a lot." Leia admitted with a gentle smile in return.