Secret Admirer (completed)

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She'd met him once before, in a cafe on Thyferra. She had not known who he was, nor had he any inkling of who she had been. The fact that her face was splashed on the Empire's 'Most Wanted' list (though it was grainy and hard ot make out) had probably changed that for him.

A little research into the remaining leaders of a weakened Empire had turned up the name Khendon Sevon to go with a face she had suddenly remembered. He'd complimented her, but she had sensed his darker intentions for a rendevous later. Lilaena had had work to do, and hadn't given the man any further thought... until now.

She was tailing his motorcade of speeders through the midnight skies of Coruscant, somewhere near the equator. A large, man-made sea was enclosed somewhere nearby, supported by apartment buildings most likely. Coruscant made her dizzy if she thought about the layers of buildings too much.

It was full of memories, as well.

Lilaena saw where Sevon's speeder parked and the man got out. She was coming up to it, and boldly turned in, pulling her dark blue closed speeder to the curb as well. It seemed to be a hotel of some sort, or perhaps apartments for the immensely wealthy.

A dark armored trooper approached the speeder, and she stepped out delicately to the duracrete and straightened her dress. There were no cries of recognition, but she had not thought there would be. The most easily identifiable feature of her mugshot was a dark stain of black that marked her face, and she had stopped wearing it once the list had come out with her on it. Instead there was a thin, smooth scar that ran above and below her left eye.

The nearest trooper spoke, it's voice a staticky rumble. "You'll have to wait here ma'am."

She pouted a little, seeing that it was a hotel. "But I'm trying to get to my room!" Lilaena was statuesque in a sleek black and white number that hugged her muscular curves. Sevon was looking in her direction and she caught his eyes for a moment before returning her attention to the stormtrooper. He might have recognized her, and she hoped that her original thoughts had been correct.

He would be intrigued at her appearance, and quite possibly would want to entertain her. In the way he liked the best.

If she was wrong, well, that would mean a fight right here and perhaps her death. But she was as good as dead anyway, and her revenge against the Empire had to start somewhere. Instead of two assassinations (cleverly taken care of by the Rebellion at Endor), she was faced with a multitude of heads on her chopping block.

Choosing Sevon as her first was a test. If she passed, then she was indeed worthy to continue what her late master had tried to start. She tossed her speeder keys to a valet as Sevon was escorted into the hotel, and then the trooper allowed her to move forward.

[Khendon Sevon]

Again the Executor found himself staring down the barrel of a deadly weapon with energy coiled, ready to spring forward like a venomous serpent and remove his head from his shoulders at the slightest sign of weakness. It was the constant story of being an extremely high ranking officer of the Empire, and that definitely didn’t make it anymore enjoyable. With authority came responsibility. Khendon didn’t want to answer to anyone.

Several hours of paperwork waited in his private room, diligently placed on a large, oak desk by his aids. The room would be bathed in shadows, just as he liked it, and quiet—very, very quiet.

A few well brewed drinks with medium froth and full taste would be chilled and in the fridge, or, maybe, just maybe, there would be a bottle of something strong and flavorful. Never the less, the night’s duties would be lessened by the gentle hands of a select liquor.

Just as Khendon’s taste buds were working themselves into a parched frenzy, something caught the corner of his eye. It was a shape, firm and young. It was someone he had seen once. She was an individual that carried risk and adventure in an attractive, toned package.

The Executor turned toward the guardsmen to his side and whispered, “Let her in. Don’t stop her, no matter where she tries to go. Cut the security cameras from the global network, I’ll file the paperwork in the morning.

“Sergeant, make sure the building is secure from the outside, loosen it on the inside… and make sure no word of her arrival reaches any non Office personnel. I don’t want any Inquisitors in on this, and definitely no regular military. They’ll only ruin it.” A slight nod affirmed the commands.

This might be an exciting night, after all.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena walked boldly into the lobby, playing with her hair as though she hadn't a care in the world. There was a group of people getting ready to go up the turbolifts, and she took her place with them.

A young man in the group smiled at her, and she returned the expression, adding a little giggle as her cheeks colored slightly. His smile remained as the 'lift arrived and everyone got inside.

"What floor, Miss?" The kindly older man who stood in the turbolift addressed her, and she managed another blush.

"The twenty-fourth. Thank you," she added, as he pressed the call button for the tenth floor.

The man who'd caught her eye earlier also requested the twenty-fourth floor. A complication. Not too difficult to take care of, however. Sevon was on the top floor in the penthouse suite, only one floor up from where she was stopping. There was also a private turbolift that went directly to his suite, but it had been guarded by a trooper and so not worth the effort.

Lilaena looked up at the corner of the turbolift where a tiny security camera was perched. It stared blankly back at her, a reminder of how her face had gotten onto the 'list' in the first place. No matter. If after Sevon's death they picked up on her presence in the hotel she didn't care. It would be much too late by then.

The 'lift reached the tenth floor and stopped, letting out Lilaena and the young, smiling man. She ignored him, walking towards the end of the long hallway.

[Khendon Sevon]

What would this night hold for the Executor of the Empire?

The Imperial wondered that exact question himself as he leisurely opened the heavy, ornate doors to his suite. Instantly, the warm embrace of shadows greeted him. “Perfect,” a tired smile crept on his mildly tan face—the color he had gained on a recent mission was already fading and his skin was becoming milky again.

With a click, Khendon opened a small ‘fridge. Amber light spilled from the small doorway and cast its oval glow on the black-bathed room. The angles of the Sith’s face were brought out by the sudden shift in contrast.

Yet another smile grew on the man’s face as he pulled a chilled bottle from the cold womb. With excitement growing in his chest, the Executor shut the ‘fridge door and took a seat behind the large, dark-wood desk that overlooked the main room.

Khendon poured himself a glass of the cool liquid and swirled it around its crystal container. A short sip flooded the man’s taste buds with the aged flavors of the dark fluid.

The officer removed his jacket, threw aside his dress coat, undid his collar, and rolled up his sleeves. His gray military shirt accented his silvery eyes as he cast them to a bulge in his coat’s pocket. From within the discarded leather heap he retrieved his family saber.

Delicately, the Executor placed the cylindrical weapon on his desk. The runes etched deep in the gun-metal surface resonated ever so slightly in the shadow cloaked chambers of the Sith and brought a smile to the warrior’s face.

“I’m waiting,” he mused. Maybe I was wrong? Was it really her? The drum in Khendon’s chest picked up slightly and excitement clawed at its restraints—begging to be freed.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena almost giggled as she caught sight of a vent opening, remembering her mad scramble through the conduits on Thyferra to escape IG-88. As entertaining as wriggling through vent systems was, she was certainly not dressed for it.

Well, not at the moment, anyway.

The hallway was lined with large potted plants that nearly reached the ceiling. Lilaena slid beside one and quickly stripped out of the slinky cocktail dress she'd been wearing, revealing a tight black ensemble of tank top and tiny shorts underneath. The dress folded down to almost nothing and disappeared into her purse after she extricated her lightsaber from it.

The purse was stashed inside the potted plant, and she took a scant moment to cast about with the Force, feeling for life upstairs. She'd studied the layout of the penthouse, and knew that directly above her was a hallway that led to the second refresher. It was probably not in use, as there was a much larger 'fresher attached to the master bedroom. The Force indicated that all was quiet above.

The Jedi stretched her leg up and caught a toe on the edge of the decorative wood accent about three feet off the ground, and pushed herself up, swinging her other foot into the strong branches of the plant next to her. The plant creaked as she ignited her saber and made a circular hole in the ceiling, cutting through ceiling and floor and insulation alike. A gust of warm air blew down, and she silently cursed. She'd cut the pipe that fed the climate regulator to the penthouse - Sevon might notice it, but he might not think anything of it.

She'd cut the hole at an angle, and it needed no holding as Lilaena disengaged her lightsaber and hopped down quietly to the hallway floor. She pushed the section of ceiling up and over, and jumped straight up and through the hole.

Landing like a cat with her feet on either side of the hole she'd created, the dark haired woman quickly stood to one side and replaced the section she'd carved out. Silently, hardly breathing, she listened, hearing nothing.

Something bothered her about the elevator ride she'd taken up, but she pushed it aside in her eagerness and crept down the hallway towards the larger living areas.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon closed his eyes and took another sip of the aromatic drink in his glass. He allowed the liquor to burn his mouth for a moment before letting it slide, smooth, down his throat. There was only a mild bite, but it was enough to curb the anxiety growing in the Executor’s mind.

She wasn’t coming. There was no way she would take so long. He had virtually opened the doors and invited her in; yet, she was still not standing before him. Khendon let out a held breath and rubbed at his still closed eyes.

The room was silent and completely still save for the movement of air through filters. Even this sound barely was noticed by the inward-turned mind of the Sith. Instead, he mulled over the foolishness of letting a known terrorist go unchecked.

Khendon’s hand, now cold from constant contact with the drink and condensation on the crystal, brought the dark liquid to his lips again. He drank until the end of what he had poured and settled into his comfortable leather chair. Warmth grew around the Executor as the alcohol’s first advanced scouts found place in his blood.

The room was so calm, so serine, so completely motionless. He opened his eyes and smirked.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She stood in the shadows of the hallway, against the wall and just able to peek into the larger room. The Executor was sitting at his desk, a cyclindrical objext in front of him and an empty glass in his hand.

Lilaena zeroed in on the object on the desk, noting what it was. A thread of uncertainty wove it's way into her plans and threatened to unravel them. Sevon had a lightsaber. Either it was a trophy, or it was his. In any case, it was a weapon that could counter hers, and made him a much greater threat whether he had training in it's use or not.

He was smirking, watching his front entry through lidded eyes, unaware of her presence to his right. Her heart sped up a little at the thought of him glancing over and spying her in the shadows of the passage. It would be so easy...

But, he didn't. And he still had that lightsaber, even if he was pouring himself another glass of whatever he'd been drinking and pulling out a datapad to read. For a moment, she didn't know what to do - stay where she was and wait for him to discover her, or jump out into the middle of the room and surprise him.

Frellit, she thought, and ignited her blue lightsaber, taking one step so she stood just out of the hall and in the half light of the room. And then she remembered what it was that had bothered her about the elevator ride up. The security camera had displayed no little indicator light. It hadn't been on.

"I believe you were expecting me, Executor."

[Khendon Sevon]

Not exactly as Khendon had expected, never the less, he would adapt—another thing a high ranking Imperial officer had to learn to stay alive.

The Sith took in a sharp breath and smirked, “Why don’t you put that away and we can talk like civilized adults? If not…” his silver eyes flashed threateningly at her for a moment. “Well, why don’t you have a drink?”

Khendon set his own glass on the dark-grained table and turned a clean crystal container right side up. He poured an equal amount of the flavorful liquor in each and made a gesture towards the chair opposite his desk.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"I didn't come here to talk." Lilaena put her free hand out and snatched the lightsaber off his desk with the Force as he poured her a drink.

"I came here to kill you." She walked towards him, her lightsaber leveled at him.

[Khendon Sevon]

“To kill me?” Khendon grunted in amusement, “you and every other bastard in the Galaxy, Lady.” The Imperial mused with his glass for a moment then set it down.

“Your anger makes you strong,” his silver eyes gave her the once over, “It boils from your heart like magma flows from a planet’s core.” The Executor’s stood slowly and took a few steps towards the fiery woman.

“It excites you, doesn’t it?” Khendon’s own voice sounded like it was under the ecstasy of his monologue, “that pounding in your chest, the fire in your mind!” He maintained his hands open and facing his would-be assassin.

“It gives you direction, Lilaena,” he pronounced the name like an exotic spice, “it drives you… feeds you.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

This was going to be easier than she'd anticipated since figuring out he knew she was coming. As he blathered on, she took step towards him and lunged forward with lightsaber extended to pierce him through the heart.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon turned his chest and leaned out of the way of the saber thrust, the Force providing him cat-like balance. So much for smooth talking, he thought as his mind prepared for the dance of combat.

There wasn’t much else to do, years of engaging hostiles had taught Sevon one tactic. That simple concept quickly went into play as the Executor sent a reflexive snap-kick at Lilaena’s weapon wielding hand. Disarm, the word shot like fire through his thoughts.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She almost dropped her lightsaber when he kicked her hand, but instead he mashed her fingers against the hilt and the lightsaber deactivated. As she balanced herself she ignited the saber that she'd taken off his desk, swinging it towards him towards him from his right.

Her fingers stung, but she re-activated her weapon, it's blue blade lighting up the room.

[Khendon Sevon]

In a fight, to think was to die. Reaction had to be trained. Muscles were required to build a memory for different reflexive motions. Repetition was the key to survival. No mistakes could be afforded.

Khendon had made a mistake. No point in dwelling on it. Just react. Move. Move.

The Executor’s balance suddenly shifted and he back flipped out of reach of his assailant’s weapons. In that instant, he called upon the flow of the Force. It stood ready, like a river blocked up by man’s hand, and he demanded it knock down the dam’s doors.

In a rush of telepathic power, Khendon sent his desk sliding across the floor toward Lilaena to cover his landing. As his feet found contact, he focused more on the act of forcing the object onward and added concentration and power to the action.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The man spun away and out of reach and the lightsaber hit nothing. Anger mounting, Lilaena leapt up on top of the desk as it slid towards her and somersaulted off the other side.

She landed softly on both feet in a dueller's stance, the blue blade held in front of her and the second, whitish blade held at arms length behind her, the business end pointing towards it's master.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Oh, the drama,” mumbled Khendon, “how much more of this are you willing to do? Aren’t you getting bored already?” He grinned and began unbuttoning his shirt, his lean muscles and tan flesh appearing.

Every move of his wrist had a weight to it; he was still prepared to fight. “Now what?” he removed the dress shirt and threw it to the ground. His arms were covered in black-ink, tattoos that spit the acrid Sith tongue into the room.

Khendon listened to the hum of the sabers and his grin widened. “Now what?” The Executor’s martial arts roots were beginning to show. He took on a powerful defensive stance in the style of House Heladune. With left leg forward and right leg firmly planted, he bounced idly on his toes, shifting weight slightly from fore to back. The Executor brought his left arm over his chest and allowed his right to form a right angle with his shoulder.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She stared at him a moment, a little flabbergasted at his response. "You do realize that you can't possibly block a lightsaber with your bare arm."

Lilaena quirked and eyebrow up, and caused his discarded shirt to rise up and wrap around his face. As this happened, she leapt forward, dual lightsabers twirling and intent on taking any limbs that happened to be in the way.

[Khendon Sevon]

No eyes, that’s alright. You know what to do. It wasn’t even a thought, more like an adaptation. Years ago, what seemed to be a lifetime ago, in the blinding snowstorms of Hioni, Khendon would train with his father atop heaven-touching peaks. The lessons of those labored battles had paid off many times in the Executor’s career. So would they again.

The Force turned tactile and sensations of distance and shape along with emotion became clear as sight.

Khendon knelt under the first sweeping twirl, pushed firmly against the ground, lifted himself off the floor with one arm and inverted his body to avoid the next attack. He then pushed off the weight strained appendage and tucked his body into a tight roll low in the air.

The Executor touched the wall with his feet and sent himself a few meters behind his assailant, landing in a roll to absorb the momentum. He stood and blew out a single heavy breath. The scent of burnt flesh wafted into the room. A single crimson mark cut across his chest, a close call between Khendon and the dancing lights of plasma.

A smile crossed the Executor’s face as he finally removed the shirt. “The weapon is only as good as the fighter,” his gray eyes brightened in emphasis.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Furious, she stayed her hand a moment longer, and asked, "You are trained in the ways of the Force. How have you survived this long under the Emperor's nose? Unless he knew about you."

Her face darkened at the thought of this man receiving personal training from Palpatine himself, and lunged at him again, trying to sever his head before he could answer.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon was beginning to enjoy the game. A quick and nimble sidestep brought him out of harm’s reach and he attempted to keep his distance from his assailant. “So, you know my story,” a smirk formed on his red lips, “what’s yours?”

The pain of seared flesh kept the Executor in reality. This was a battle; he would treat it like one. With a flick of his wrist, the heavy jacket that had been thrown aside rustled. From within the folds of the worn Imperial garb burst a cylinder. The shimmering hilt found itself snuggly in Khendon’s waiting hand.

With the classic snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber, another silver glow added its color to the dancing hues of the room. Tight in a two-handed grip, Khendon brought the brilliant blade over his head in a very aggressive stance and slowed his footwork, he was allowing her to make the first move—as he was sure she would.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She wanted to fly at him and etch the smirk off his face with a slice of her lightsaber, but she remained as she was. Her stance adjusted slightly to make up for the change in her opponent, dual lightsabers ready to block an overhead strike from Sevon as they slowly circled each other.

"You and yours destroyed everything I ever cared about, and I have thought about you ever since the day on Thyferra we met. So, your name reached the top of the list when Palatine and Vader were killed."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon continued to grin like a jackal, “I’m flattered, your charm is endearing.” The Executor purposely made his guard look looser, as if he had relaxed.

“Lilaena, you have no clue what powers you trifle with. But,” an odd expression flowed through his features, “I could… show you.” He falsely allowed his stance to become less aggressive—it was a ploy, but it could work either way.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"I had a master." Lilaena did attack him then, lightsaber flashing inwards. His stance tightened up and he deflected her attacks, and they separated once more, both breathing a little heavier.

"You could show me nothing." She jerked her head, flinging her hair out of her eyes. "It is you who don't know what he's trifling with."

[Khendon Sevon]

Releasing his two-hand grip on the hilt, Khendon brought his saber to point straight out with his outstretched arm. “You are strong, I’ll give you that; but, you still have much to learn. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” That same sly grin remained permanently painted on his lips.

The sith tattoos scrawled on the Executor’s arms pulsated with dark intent. This would be his last attempt at averting all out battle.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

His smug face and words were as annoying as listening to a Gungan read a directory listing. He knew about her, but not everything. She had been training since she was six to take on the Emperor himself!

Lilaena slashed at him diagonally with one blade, following it up with the other in case he managed to block the first. At the same time she pulled a smallish statue off it's pedestal with the Force and shot it towards the back of his knees.

[Khendon Sevon]

Enough talking. This wasn’t getting anywhere, and fast. The situation had deteriorated. All his preaching had agitate the misguided female, nothing more. Oh, well. It was time for business as usual.

Khendon took a good step backwards with legs bent to allow a lower center of balance. With the deftness of an experienced swordsman, he put his single blade vertically between both of the two assaulting tongues of energy. It was his move, his pieces were in play, he had a strategy, now was the time to act.

A second hand quickly grasped the hilt and the weapon rapidly twisted 180 degrees and wrenched the weapons violently apart in an effort to disarm the beautiful assailant.

Just as the thought of a quick victory washed over Khendon’s mind, it was foiled. A heavy weight collided with one of the Executor’s partially bent knees and dropped him to the ground, back colliding with the full brunt of his body’s weight accelerated at 9.8 meters per second squared.

Not good. Thinking was bad. Action was needed.

He threw his lightsaber and rolled away.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

With a cry her lightsaber was wrenched out of her hand, leaving her with only the borrowed one. As hers fell, it disengaged, but the sudden fall of her opponent stopped him from similarly cutting her hand off. Lilaena kept her balance, bending back and to the side until her hair nearly trailed on the floor as Sevon threw his lightsaber at her.

Upright once more, the Jedi raised her hands, breaking the chandelier from the ceiling and sending it crashing down on top of the Executor with a spray of plaster dust. She gathered in her anger like a cloak, power filling her as she moved towards him.

[Khendon Sevon]

Not good.

Khendon could sense the dense cloud of darkness surrounding the vixen. She was dripping wet with evil intent and Force prowess.

Not good.

The Executor summoned all of his dark rage and allowed it to meld with his body and blood. There was an excitement as it consumed him from outside in like a drowning man. His body gagged on the putrid taste of power for a moment before embracing it like the deadly, loved drug it was.

A fist slammed against the floor and sent a web of shattered splinters into the air. With the wave of an opened palm, the formation of deadly shards swarmed towards Lilaena. The Executor’s other free hand summoned his heavy oak desk from an intersecting angle and collided with the side of the incoming chandelier, sending it firmly into the opposing wall as the horizontal momentum overtook the vertical.

There was a loud, deafening crash as the frames of precious paintings crumbled under the heavy stress of both objects.

The Sith stood and brushed himself off, summoned his hilt, and ignited the waiting blade. The silver saber thirst for action, thirst to be up to its metal components in flesh—he would have to control its lust, for the moment.

Reservation was needed, not unabridged passion.

Khendon narrowed his eyes and brought his shimmering weapon in a two handed grip.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

He'd hit the ground so hard the synthesized wood splintered.

Lilaena's mind wrapped itself around that as the desk slammed into the opposite wall, turning artwork into rubbish. She twirled the silvery saber in front of her, the splinters burning up in the plasma blade. One made it past, nicking her cheek and barely missing her eye. The Jedi blinked.

Sevon stood in front of her, saber at the ready. She rolled the hilt of hers over in her hand before pointing it down at the floor in front of her, knees bent and one leg out to the side for extra balance. A drop of blood trickled down her face, as Lilaena regarded her prey with hazel eyes.

"That's how you like your girls, isn't it? Bleeding?" Disgust filled her. "You're sick, that's what you are."

[Khendon Sevon]

“Don’t try to justify the deed, just do it!”

He charged her in that split second. Khendon’s silver saber lashed out like a scorpion’s venomous tail, darting with the intricate patterns only a master swordsman knows.

In a show of brute strength and raw energy, the Executor bat at Lilaena’s saber and drove a sharp, powerful elbow toward her face.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her saber was forced down and she didn't manage to block Sevon's elbow in time to stop it from striking the bridge of her nose. Bright lights exploded in her head as a gush of blood left the taste of iron on her lips, and she reeled backwards, momentarily blinded by the pain.

He came at her again, his saber dancing in ways she'd not seen before, and she blindly blocked him, relying solely on the Force to guide her arm. It did not fail her, and his emotions (so tightly controlled) seemed to feel ragged around the edges as he failed to mark her with his blade.

To buy her another moment to wipe away the blood from her face, Lilaena swept his feet out from under him with the Force.

[Khendon Sevon]

Gravity was suddenly shifted upwards. The world’s tilt must’ve changed for such a drastic alteration in the direction of the ground.

Khendon’s head bounced off the synthesized boards of wood with all the grace of a grapefruit dropped from the first floor of a building. White flooded the Executor’s vision and the thud of impact sent waves of torturous pain down the Sith’s spine in a very, very unpleasant way.

The digits of Khendon’s left hand twitched and his eyes focused again. Now propped up on an elbow, he shook his head clear. “Having fun?” he muttered with another sly smile.

With the return of conscious thought came the controlled rage, anger, hostility, enmity, deprecation of all humanity and goodness—he was Sith, pure only in the most wicked sense of the word.

Balance thrown forward, he leapt to his feet and clenched his hilt in a one-handed grip. An uncomfortable twang remained in his lower back, aching from its collision.

He lunged forward, hand opened, grasping for Lilaena’s saber—it was time to bring the fight closer in. Khendon brought his grappling skills to the table.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

He sprang upward, hand extended towards her saber. If he wanted it, she'd give it to him. Lilaena started to take the bait, almost taking his hand off with a spin of the blade, but hesitated. It seemed too obvious and was probably a trap.

Instead she skipped backwards as he came at her. Khendon lunged once more, saber stabbing towards her. The Jedi kicked off from the floor, somersaulting over his head and landing facing his backside.

[Khendon Sevon]

The Force slipped tendrils of knowledge into Khendon’s mind and fed him nutrients of position, speed, and slivers of possible intent. There was no science to interpreting and acting through the ever present connection; yet, the Sith had an artist’s view of combat with the omnipotence of the Force and was more than willing to embrace the grace present therein.

An intricate dance was occurring and Khendon could only watch himself react. His saber deftly twisted in his hand. The hilt became capped by the Executor’s other hand as the weapon came parallel to the ground and was, at the same instant, thrust backwards.

True, it was a “blind” attack in the sense that the warrior could not see his opponent with his naked eye. Only the Force guided the rearward thrust and its placement.

Twisting body around to face his opponent, Khendon called Lilaena’s previous dropped saber and took it in the hand that had helped thrust his own weapon. The blade activated with a crisp snarl.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Facing him, she was ready for the saber attack as he stabbed backwards at her. Lilaena blocked, putting all her weight into it and trying to shove his shining blade into his own side. Sevon turned with the shove, now with two sabers in his hands - a matched pair.

With sabers he had the upper hand. With the Force... Lilaena blocked his initial slashes and then lightly closed her eyes. Initiating a pressure wave with the Force she caused air to ripple around her as though she were a stone thrown into a pond. Khendon flew backwards, buffeted by three waves of outward moving pressure.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon flew like a discarded doll and collided with all the grace of a misshapen boulder into a bookshelf juxtaposed with the opposing wall. It wasn’t pretty.

A splinter of oak colored wood occupied a space the size of a wookie’s fist in the Executor’s side. Warm crimson formed small rivers that trickled down the exposed flesh in shortening intervals. Like a snaking tattoo filled with magical motion, the life providing liquid worked its way over the hills and valleys of the Sith’s muscular curves.

At first the pain blinded Khendon. It sent violent jolts of teeth grinding torment throughout his body. Breath became fire in his lungs and he choked on the escaping vapors. The copper taste of blood touched his tongue and marked his blanch teeth.

As the brief seconds ticked by, a train of dark, thick malice ran across tracks of contempt and smashed aside the obstacle of pain. The ire of the Executor touched brush and kindled furious signal bonfires.

With a strong yank, the Executor dislodged the piece of red-coated bookcase. He blinked hard and smirked, “Resorting to tricks, are we?” Khendon grunted with mild mirth, “I should’ve known.”

He began to stand.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

With a push of her hand towards him, Lilaena shoved the Executor backwards again, but just enough to keep him off balance. "Tricks of the trade."

As he stumbled a bit more she put her thumbs on opposite sides of her broken nose, one slightly higher than the other, and pushed. The cartilage snapped back into place, scraping and clicking loudly. With a shudder she forced her eyes open, reigniting her lightsaber and facing her soon to be defeated foe who was now standing upright. Warm blood was trickling out of her mouth - she'd bitten the inside of her cheek as she had embraced the pain of the reset.

As her vision cleared, she smiled, "Why Khendon, you're bleeding."

Lightsaber in a two handed grip, she advanced on him.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon allowed his hand to grip his side and clenched his teeth. His face contorted in pain. This he permitted himself.

As the dark fiend approached and her shadow advanced, a point of no return clicked in affirmation. There was something that had to be used to survive this encounter. An ancient devil must be unleashed to ensure momentary continuation.

With a let out breath, the Executor allowed himself to continue to look disoriented. It would only take a misguided glance to foil the warrior’s plans; yet, his discipline held.

Close enough. In less than a heartbeat, the warrior’s composure changed. His body became flexible and controlled, fluid and organized.

The first assault was a fast snap kick to Lilaena’s shins that quickly retreated and became an alternate attack. An inside crescent kick shot out with the speed of a TIE fighter, avoided the woman’s guard, and fell upon her saber bearing hand, sending the hand and weapon far away from the suddenly lightening fast Sith.

That golden moment of open guard appeared. With both legs firmly on the ground, Khendon twisted his hips and sent a snapping strike to Lilaena’s temple with his right hand’s knuckles followed quickly by an open palm to her throat from his other appendage.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

He was beaten. She read it in his stance and smelled it in the blood on the air.

And then, she was.

The boot to her shins was painful, but not as hard as it could have been. Her saber went flying from her hand, the saftey switch disengaging it as it skittered across the floor from the kick to her wrist. His knuckles rang her head like a bell, causing her eyes to go dim, and then she was on the ground, choking and grasping at her throat.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon, panting from sudden release of energy, grabbed a particularly large board of wood from a shattered shelf and, with eyes still blazing, smashed it over Lilaena’s head. “For good measure,” he mumbled.

The Executor walked over to his thrown aside overcoat and slipped his blood covered hand into a concealed breast pocket. From within, he retrieved a pair of Imperial cuffs—specially modified ones for his typical type of quarry. They fit perfectly on the woman’s wrists.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Minutes, or hours, later, Lilaena blinked her eyes open. Her head felt like an overripe melon just waiting to burst, and her nose was sending shards of pain into her face. Her face was pressed tightly against a wall, hands cuffed behind her back.

She felt like groaning, but kept it inside for fear that once she started making noise she'd be screaming in pain next. Shifting slightly, the world flipped dizzily and the Jedi realized that she was actually lying prostrate on the floor. She moved her face a little bit, resting more comfortably with her cheek to the hardwood, and then lifted her neck and looked around.

Sevon was across from her, leaning against the wall. He was stripped to the waist, a bacta patch covering the wound on his side. And he was smirking.

Lilaena put her head back down to alleviate the strain on her neck, but nothing could help the feeling of despair that was growing in the pit of her stomach.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s hand shook with the slightest of tremors. He forced spit down his dry throat and bit a lip with that odd, menacing smirk slapped squarely on his face like a permaglue sticker.

It was the excitement. It was welling in his chest like some sort of uncontrollable birthing of energy.

You know you’re a monster. A voice from Khendon’s past and nipped at the back of his mind. You’re a twisted, sick person with delusions. That’s what you are, Lieutenant.

Khendon shook his head and his left eye flinched. Stop that. Stop.

Can you still see their faces at night, Lieutenant? I always could. The glow of hollow eyes burned its imagine into the Executor’s skull. They were Max’s, unmistakably intelligent and completely lost and empty. They were unguided and sickly—just as Khendon remembered them being.

He pulled a blanket of control over the situation and swept it away.

“Lilaena,” his voice frothed with mirth, “I know you’re awake now. What would you have me do?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena breathed raggedly through her open mouth, tongue licking her dry lips. "Why, let me go of course."

She coughed, "But if you want to know what I think you will do..." She didn't finish the sentance as the despair she'd been feeling spiked up almost into terror. Lilaena grabbed control of her emotions again, shoving them all into an imaginary box which she shoved into the back of her mind. A Jedi knows no fear. Or at least, knows how to draw power from her fear.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s heart was still beating rapidly from the battle. No.

No.

It wasn’t from the battle. It was the sight of Lilaena. Helpless.

His blood was hot with pounding proteins—hormones that flooded his senses and made him unsettled.

Control. It was an order and, like the soldier he was, Khendon followed it. He stood with faked grace and tried not to wince as pain ran talons of fire over his muscles.

The ‘fridge was remarkably intact. He opened the door and took a moment in the wash of cool air that slid out. A bottle stood firm and covered in beads of dew. It begged to be touched, relieved of its contents.

Crisp and cold, it went down like ambrosia. A backhand removed some spilled froth from his lips and he let out a breath. “You’ve put me in an odd situation, Lilaena. I can’t let a would-be assassin just walk away, and I know you’re far too dangerous to be allowed outside my influence.

“And. Well, I don’t think torture will get anything out of you besides religious zealot bantha,” he gestured with the half emptied bottle, “allocution, rhetoric… speech… crap.” His brow had tightened.

“So, instead, I think we’re going to have a nice little talk, sans sermon. You’re going to tell me everything you did before coming here, everyone you talked to, everyone who saw you, every place you were.

“Incase you’re wondering why… I’m going to erase you from existence. At least, from any formal databanks that may have your picture recorded.”

Khendon could use her, he was sure of it. The question was how to control her? He would figure it out. All he needed was time to think.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She laughed, a hoarse chuckle. "Erase me? From the list that has already circulated to every bounty hunter in the galaxy? I've been on it for almost five years. Since Thyferra. Even you could not be so bold as to attempt to hide me."

With a painful twist, Lilaena rolled to her side and then sat up, leaning against the upended desk. "And I doubt it would benefit you to do so, anyway." She spat blood and saliva onto the ground, running her tongue around her teeth to make sure they were all intact still.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon took another swig of cold beer and tightened his jaw. He made sure his vision remained firmly fixed on the woman’s eyes, though they fought viciously to slip away.

A typical smirk painted itself on his face, “If anyone can, it’s me.” Still nothing came to him, no way to pin her down and keep her under the covers, controlled in his firm grip.

“What does defeat mean to you, Lilaena?” He slid down opposite her and swirled his drink around, his fingers covered in the bottle’s perspiration.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The stun cuffs were on tight enough that a persistant buzz of energy irritated her wrists. It increased with each wiggle and bump, so she took care not to move her arms more than necessary. The man sat next to her, and she felt open and vulnerable. Although she'd spent a lot of time in the company of men, she'd never... She was innocent, as all Jedi should be. Purging themselves of the need for physical love. Her master had counseled her to channel her energy into her practice and workouts.

It worked brilliantly, of course. But now, knowing his dark intent with every glance of his eyes, she was getting nervous. Lilaena wished that her old pupil Dalamar was near. He would have her rescued in a jiffy. But she'd left him on Onderon. No, don't think about it. She did not feel the buzzing sensation in her head that meant someone was delving into her mind, but that didn't mean that Sevon wasn't.

"Death is the only defeat I know. And even then it is only a door to becoming one with the Force." A door I do not wish to go through.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon looked at the woman’s face, perspiration still staining its perfection—along with plenty of dried crimson.

“So, you’re saying I need to kill you?” From his pockets he fished out a switchblade and thumbed the release. The Sith moved closer to the woman, close enough to catch the scent of blood on her.

Delicately, he pressed the sharp end to her throat and narrowed his eyes in concentration. “Is that what you want, Lilaena? To die and become some ghost, a shadow of what you are.” He looked at her legs, followed the hills and valleys back to her pallid visage. “You still have so much to do, you haven’t even killed me yet.”

He ran the blade across her curve hugging shirt, cutting the material a little. “So, why don’t we help eachother?” Khendon’s smirk returned and his clear blue-gray eyes burned into hers.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Anger flashed in her eyes, the fear she'd felt earlier evaporating like a morning mist. "Help each other?" Lilaena sat very still, though she was investigating the release on the stuncuffs through the Force. Not even Palpatine would be able to tell what a person was sensing through the Force, and she felt relatively safe exploring for the catch that would release her hands.

"So you want me to run an errand for you, and in return I get to kill you?" She leaned away from the knife before he could cut her shirt more. "How naive do you think I am?" Her eyes deadened, "But... you're right. I do have more to do."

She looked into his eyes, green meeting blue-gray. "What is it you want?"

[Khendon Sevon]

As soon as her eyes met his, he dodged.

“It’s not that simple.” He snapped the blade shut and moved away from her, mildly disturbed by his own lack of restraint.

“Stop playing with them, will you! Every move you make registers an annoying mental beep!” Khendon triggered a numbing response that would release enough energy to make her hands go slack.

His neural processor itched. Was that possible? No. He was certain it couldn’t do that.

The Executor made a frustrated sound and turned to her, a pinch of passion spilling over the edge, “I want you to kill them all! All of them! Whoever else is on your damn list!

“I’m going to give you their itineraries, names of their assistants, whatever the frell you want. In return, you kill them. You don’t get caught.

“I know I can handle you in a fight,” he wasn’t exactly sure of that, but he allowed himself to sound confident, “so, I’m not worried.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

As much as she hated the thought of working with... no, for the Executor, the bait he dangled was juicy enough to tempt a saint. Her wrists were slightly numb from the last jolt he'd sent up her arms, but sensation returned quickly with pins and needles.

And every time she'd touched the cuffs with the Force the skin around his eyes had tightened.

"Tiberius Anar," she whispered. "He's next." Khendon was leaning close to her again, his breath hot on her forehead as he loomed over her. A mental beep. She wanted what he offered her, really wanted it. But... if there was even a chance...

She closed her eyes, breathing lightly through her mouth. "Please. I'll do it." Her voice trembled slightly.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s lips curled in recognition of the words, Please. I’ll do it. It was almost as good as what he had planned. Of course, he wasn’t getting satisfaction in the way he had hoped; but, there was still time for that.

Restraint.

The Executor downed the rest of his beer. It had grown warm and bitter in the musty, blood-tinged air of the hotel room and his face expressed the fact. His inner drive, that nagging sensation that was physical and mental at the same time, died down.

“That’s a good girl,” it purred out of him like silk and he broke a genuine smile, “looks like you and I ended up in bed, anyway,” he winked and mentally winced at the same time.

Restraint.

She has miles to go. If, at the end of this, she’s still as full of spirit… then, you’ll get your chance. Your day will come. You can wait. It’ll be a perfect finish to a perfect plan.

The storm in his eyes quieted.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She ventured a tremulous smile at him, and then the stun cuffs exploded off of her wrists.

Khendon reeled away from her, clutching at his temple. Lilaena leapt to her feet and grabbed a heavy candlestick that was sitting on a sidebar by the huge window that gave a view of the old Senate building. It took three hits to bash out the reinforced window, and she jumped up onto the sill.

Sevon was recovering already. He looked like a thundercloud. "You are right. We have the same goal, for the moment." She looked down, and then back at him as he got to his feet. "I'll be in touch. Take care of my lightsaber."

Then she dove off the windowsill and into the night.

[Khendon Sevon]

Smart girl, thought Khendon with a smirk. With one hand rubbing his temple, he looked out the naked window. It wasn’t the most exciting exit he had ever seen, but it was dramatic.

The Imperial walked over to a comm. unit and tapped it on, “Executor, how may I serve you?” It was the main desk.

“I’d like to talk to the lieutenant by the door.”

“One moment.” There was a click at the other end and Khendon continued massaging his head as he surveyed the destruction around him.

“Sir?” It was definitely the voice of a trooper.

“I need a medic and a clean up team, now.” He nearly growled.

“Yes, Executor.”

Khendon slammed a fist at the off button and sank to the floor. Soon his plans would come to fruition, soon. A smile crept onto his visage as he continued to work the pain out of his skull.

“And, Darkness shall encompass the Galaxy, removing the false beliefs of the betrayers and clarifying the divinity of He-Who-Grants-Death. Unto Him they shall bestow their thanks, for His word will bring Truth.” Khendon could hear the old Sith’s voice in his own, could taste the prophecy like the beer he had only sipped moments ago.

The Shadow was coming, and fast.