A Life (The Inquisitoriate)

[Ridwan Vars]

Kaut City, Kaut

Nebula Orchid.

The night casted across the heavens, painting an illustration fond for all. Darkness omitted the light which once claimed the world, but had been forgotten at the passing of time. No being withstood the impatience of time. A long the surface carved a land. Upholding from the finest structural advancements, tall buildings scrapped at the sky in hopes of a topping.

Amidst the colossal stands retained a beauty of confusion. People bashed against one another, and traffic jammed the streets as speeders blasted through lights, or waited unnecessarily. The planet had grossed a vast amount of accidents over the years, but it had grown at the pedestrian fear of the Empire. The Galactic Empire wield the world as another place for starports, and shipyards.

Kaut was another notch on the Emperor's belt.

Time had passed for him also, but not for Kaut so much. Still they were a notch, and still the fear reigned.

Ridwan had found himself in the spin of time. In a matter of days his life as a Jedi had dwindled into the past. No longer had her carried the symbol of his old existence. Instead he contain a new idenity, one catergorized as normal. A simpleton amidst commoners, he dangled in the conventional activities of man. Playing the employee line he found his way as a shipyard conductor. A few dodges here and there, and he would eventually gain a name for himself amongst the bunch. Possibly join a larger company to work his magic along the lnes as manager.

The everyday life of a worker was different.

No longer did the strenous influences oppress his urges. At times he even found it eventful to venture into the club scene with a few buddies from work. It was evident-he had changed. Word had spread throughout the city of the renown diner, and the newcommer wasn't going to miss it.

Once again he was out on the town, sharing his fun with a few friends.

"Just one of those Corellian Ales will do fine."

A smile perked on Jinred's lip beside him. The Sullustian had taken a beating down at the casino a few days back, but he would recover with a few overtime. However, he wouldn't hear the end of it. Over the intercom during work hours the word had spread and lunchtime was a festive event as always. Ridwan was just another face to him, but he was a face he liked being around.

The kid had pizzaz, and he liked it. Corellian Ale was a decent drink, and one of Jinred's favorites.

"Give me the same."

"Follow the leader, eh? Must've been follow'n a fool back at that casino, aye?"

Laughter paraded the two as they waited. A few drinks would dull the ache of a day's labor. Ridwan knew that laughter was a tranquilizer without any side-affect. The two would do alright that night.

He just knew it.

[Y'roth Helghast]

The man who entered the diner at that moment wore a black Imperial outfit and on his shoulder had the blood red symbol of the Inquisitoriate. His black hair was slicked back with glints of gray and the high collar of the uniform almost covered the wires that laced the side of his neck conveying nueral implants of some kind. He removed his cover, and entered the well known establishment. Following behind him, two troopers in black stormtrooper armor bearing the same crest as the agent entered and stood beside him. His voice was very sterile as he made his announcement.

"Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen. This building is currently under lockdown for investigation of personnel by the Imperial Inquisitoriate. Your cooperation is appreciated as you assist the Inquisitoriate in ensuring that the peace is kept and that their is no disruption among the law abiding citizens of the Galactic Empire. Please prepare your identification for review."

They didn't understand how much Inquisitoriate Agent Cl 3 Ganon Welz wanted this to go smoothly. His career banked on how easily this extraction process would go. The depth of the consequences for error at this point was beyond the every day tragedies of these simpletons. They had been tracking a rebel agent, a Sullustan that went by the name of Jinred, and determined that this current moment would be the optimum window for extraction. The all-powerful 'they.' The civilians thought the Inquisitoriate was omni-present at times, whispered at just how little privacy they had. If they only knew. If they only knew about 'them'.

Welz stepped to the side of the entrance and pulled his leather gloves into a more snug fit anxiously as he looked over the room. Three Sullustans. And the public wouldn't know a thing as usual. Black armored soldiers entered the room in groups of two, one hand scanning equipment and the other was armed with a riot control compact rifle. As per procedure, all possible targets would be detained, given a second reviewing, and upon singling out their target, the other two would be eliminated. There should be no problems this time around, all of Welz' comrades had been promoted without any trouble.

[Ridwan Vars]

Nerves began to bundle the grouping as the entrance busted the crews bubble. A simple night on the town had turned into a terror. Ridwan reseted the world in a blink, but nothing had changed. Still at the door remained figures rumored about. Beings cascaded in a darkness that lay reminiscent of an omniscient potency that overwhelmed the galaxy. Days past recalled of the Dark Side, but such men were minion to a similar spectrum all the same.

The similarities flashed across the young man's brain.

All the escapades throughout the universe, but when he managed to settle down he bumped into the wrong crowd. The situation was far too ironic to swallow whole, leaving his eyes only to dart in search for a fork. Something would be entirely necessary for a defensive act.

These men meant business.

A business that Ridwan hoped to avoid with a departure of his Jedi robes.

Along his face grew a frown as his eyes grasped the situation clearer. Faces beyond the counter had taken to the back door. It seemed imminent that doom would claim the realm that he had once called comfortable. The place was supposed to be famous for it's good meals, nice midnight bites, but the chef had cooked up a troublesome dine.

Ridwan taste bugs didn't fit for such unsorted ingredients. All the elements splashed into an unfit, strange affair that left his comrade with an upset stomach. Jinred without warning or heed propelled himself from his seat and dashed to the bathroom.

Hopefully he would manage to get out before he got sick with a few blaster bolts in his stomach.

"What the frell is goin' on 'ere?!"

Ridwan protested as he took a stand, his eyes deviating from his friend to the crew. The men certainly weren't going to ruin his dining with a salty entrance.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Oh bother...

Simple people who led simple lives were left with very, very simple decisions in life and could easily choose to not complicate things for themselves. All they had to do was follow the rules. Welz couldn't understand why they always seemed to take the wrong turns with their blessedly simple lives. Always. He hissed through his teeth as two Inquisitoriate soldiers looked to him from where they stood further in the room. He nodded and they dashed towards the bathroom where one sickly Sullustan had disappeared into a moment before.

As to the other man, Welz made his way towards the man who was on his feet. Why him? Why did Welz get stuck with people who just had to make everything difficult?

"Citizen. Take your seat and endure with the Empire a bit longer. This is merely a routine operation, verifying that there is no corruption or treason amidst us law abiding citizens and allowing the Empire to ensure your's and every other prideful Imperial's security."

[Ridwan Vars]

Ridwan's eye escaped him. He watched carefully as the small unit dashed over to the refresher. Doubt crept into Ridwan's faith, corrupting it with all the horrid possibilities. Turmoil sped his mind as he gave the room a smooth gander. Most had leaned against the their booth seats, hoping to evade any further trouble. Ridwan had made it worst for them all, but his spirit couldn't help to compel him onward.

He would just have to deny it any entrance.

A sigh slept his legs as he dropped into his seat. There was certainly going to be one way of it all without any trouble. Certainly they weren't looking for him, so there was a chance of gaining Jinred back. Despite the foolish evasion, there wasn't any point in pinning anything on the poor Sullustians. From the conversations they had back on the shipyard there wasn't anything bad about the guy. All the basic, ordinary things that life could bring someone's way.

Never a story that would bring the Empire's interest.

At least not to such a pinnacle.

However, he knew better than to trust the New Order. All it had done over the years was destroy lives. Even his own had been unwrapped by the careful hands of the Emperor. Spite splinter his morals and good sense as disgust crept along his face while he swallowed his pride. The despicable tales that enthrall his mind left him in near anguish. It was painful to even deposit the horrific scenes that could be happening in the refresher as he looked away in ignorance.

He couldn't handle it.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


He just couldn't.

Not a hand-full of moments passed before Ridwan found his legs holding him upright once more. A hand flung forward and a recall to a connection returned from a forgotten realm. A spectrum awoken in the depths of his spirit, devouring all the spite in his being and unloading on the very occurrence he despised. The man before him...a figure of complete darkness, felt the wraith of the sublime Force.

Expelled from the command of his palm, the unseen pressure flooded the man, pushing him forth. Definately there were eyes that would see this, but he couldn't think. Contemplation was a point for meditation, and there was no time for that. He had to save his friend.

Jinred wouldn't die on him. Not his dad. He only had so few to cling onto, and Jinred would not be the first to leave him. A dance of gentle, quick steps pressed him toward the refresher in follow of the unit. All the training in the past couldn't prepare him for this, but fear could. Adrenaline pumped at his legs as he swept inside the door, his eyes catching the blasters lifting as he awaited the returning recall of his old companion to help.

Assistance roared through his being as the Force beckoned for another command. The begotten tool derail the inevitable shots as the blasters were stripped from their tighten grips. Banging against the surface they were left with their hands like him. Finally the fight was even, and Jinred could possibly get off to safety as Ridwan worked on his own security.


He would survive as he always did. He had faith in that if not in anything else.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Oh bother...

Welz slowly got to his feet, his neck craned as he hung his head, a wrist glued to the bottom of his nose as blood flowed freely over the leather glove. The force had blown him back and as he had tried to grip something Welz had turned and struck his nose on a stool by the bar. An indignant display of clumsiness and now humiliating weakness at the hands of some incognito force adept.

Before Welz had been raised into the ranks of the Inquisitorial agents, he had been merely an Inquisitoriate soldier. During his service, Welz had been witness to one conflict with a force adept until now. And that had been years ago, and it had been messy. The Inquisitoriate gave briefing after briefing concerning the nearly extinct Jedi, the supposedly extinct Sith, and other forms of force adepts. A constant reminder, conveyed through a poorly illustrated picture, was when combatting a force user, it is better to err on the side of caution and not use projectiles as they have a tendency to be reflected back with deadly consequences. In fact, the briefings gave examples of force adepts that had found ways around nearly every method devised to kill them. It was merely a trial and error process to determine which one would work.

Nonetheless, Welz was an Inquisitoriate Agent, and his cunningly trained intellect always sought the choice that would accomplish things in the most efficient manner. A force adept had exposed himself during an extraction. Now there were two objectives; the force adept was newer and now held higher priority but had a tendency to be able to outlast the other objectives, therefore taking care of the terrorist was first. As long as the adept didn't escape, of course. But then this adept was an odd one wasn't he?

Welz put the puzzle together in the time it took to blink. The Sullustan had dashed into the bathroom, that Sullustan would be Jinred, of course. And the force adept had been sitting next to him. They were friends. This force adept worked for the terrorists and had come to the diner to share a meal with his treasonous comrade. The idea of such... infidels in the midst of loyal Imperial citizens almost made Welz sick to his stomach. And it made Welz feel sorry for those innocent citizens that they would have to suffer because the terrorists decided to recklessly involve them in this matter.

His free hand went to his neck and pressed on the wires exposed upon his flesh. From behind his gloved hand, his nose still bleeding, he spoke, slightly higher in pitch this time.

"This is Agent Cl 3 Welz. All units, we have an Order 66 in progress. Lock the sector down. Maximum security."

He tapped the wires twice before holding down on it again.

"Extraction team. Holster weapons, activate respirators, and release the dioxis."

He finished his sentence by standing up straight, a trickle of blood running down his lip as Welz withdrew a respirator mask from his utility belt and pulled it over his face. The building was locked down in the following seconds and canisters were rolling across the floor. Green gas was seeping across the room at a rapid rate and absolute chaos had broken out among the bystanders. Inquisitoriate soldiers stood by the exits, not paying attention to the windows as they were shatterproof and nearly unbreakable, intended to prevent vehicles from outside from crashing into the building. How ironic. Anytime a civilian rushed one of the soldiers, they simply flipped them around and tossed them to the ground where all the gas was rising from. And thus those civilians didn't get back up.

The two soldiers in the bathroom looked at each other, the noise of a vacuum being engaged and their breathing suddenly sounded much heavier than before. It was only the tell tale sign of built in respirators being activated. The green gas was just now starting to crawl from underneath the door of the bathroom. Inquisitoriate troopers were not idiots and were trained to higher standards, given more attention to detail as there was not a galaxy wide force of them like storm troopers. They knew how to do this right; they'd been trained.

One turned to the Sullustan who was on his knees and kicked out, a plated shin coming in contact with the alien's droopy shin and snapped his head back and into the wall behind him. The soldier stepped forward and prepared to deliver another blow. The other one, facing the force adept, cocked his helmet to the side as he got a perspective. Inhaling, the soldier lunged with a left feint and a right hook at the enraged force adept. Combat with adepts was supposed to be nearly impossible, engaging them was scoffed at elsewhere.

In the Inquisitoriate, the attempt, even knowing that one would most likely fail, was an honor and a sign of devotion to the Galactic Empire and everything it stood for.

[Ridwan Vars]

Explosions come in many forms. Some are small, some are big. In snap moments everything can change with a simple explosion. Even a child's torpedo pop could catch a few eyes in a school yard, or take someone's hand off if placed right. The booms and bangs of an explosive hitting the floor could shake the whole block and kill a bundle. The tenacity of any explosion merit shock always, even to those fools who threw grenades off into the distance. Such beauty in raging shards, flying material could only be articulated as rage.

Ridwan had much of that "explosive" rage in him.

Before a single hand could land, the blessed Force configure his inners. Impulses ambush his senses, throwing him into a duck as the punch flew above. The blow was far from landing, but his counter were precise and on point. The limits of man were eroded by the villainous tool mistaken as the Force by the crude user. Hand after hand blasted at lightning speed, bashing the mid-section of the Inquisitor's shall.

"Die," he snarl as he thrashed the soldier's canister. Dents printed the man's chest as the fist returned to the exact point continuously. A barbaric bellow exclaim over the shallow bangs as a dark spirit rose from the ex-Jedi's fear.

Allowing a moment for his hands to rest, he swept his feet about under the soldier's own. A swing of the leg and the soldier was tripped to the floor. Before a blink could separate the moments, his eyes were swaying to his comrade. Jinred was in a bind that only his quick speed could untangle.

Throwing himself to emotion, he splurged the Force in a hasty dash to the other side of the polished bathroom. Not a single breath exasperated him as the gassy trail began it's way through the refresher. An echo blared through the room a powerful combination to the soldier's throat. The only reply was a crushed gasp for air.

"Get up Jinred! Get out!"

[Y'roth Helghast]

The Sullustan stumbled to his feet and ran for the only exit there was, the one door. Covering his face with his hands, hoping to prevent from inhaling any of the dioxis. He made it to the door in time for it to open as he was only a few steps away. His large black eyes opened wide as he tried to turn and stop himself but instead tripped and fell right into the grip of the entering Inquisitoriate Agent.

"Freeze adept! Make this easy on yourself and die now peacefully. If you try anything now, your friend, Jinred dies."

Agent Welz stood behind Jinred, who had been flipped around and now served as a living shield for the Inquisitoriate agent. One gloved hand had Jinred's arm painfully contorted behind his back and the other was around his neck, a slim looking vibroknife resting against the place where a major artery was located on his neck. A trickle of blood was running down the Sullustan's body already.

Given enough time, the Sullustan would die in a moment anyway as the gas spread into the air more and more by every second. Covering your nose and mouth would only work for so long. One of the soldiers lying on the ground wasn't moving and the other was twitching. Whatever had happened, they were both dead now. No matter. Welz had a small task force at his disposal and he didn't know if the gas had even reached the adept yet.

[Ridwan Vars]

The ex-Jedi's body moved with an intensity all it's own. Even as the bodies banged against the floor, gas steadily rising up, he could feel the heartbeats at an end. Never before had his hands bare the stain of death, but he disregarded it all. Beyond the door Jinred was heading off to safety, and his mind could only be consumed with life. Ridwan had left Coruscant to evade such situation, and they kept creeping on his tail

Yet Jinred didn't deserve this. From all the bad luck served on his plate, the Empire was the last seasoning he craved for. A frown parted the youth's lips as all days flashed past. A bundle of memories around the town having fun were to be undone by simpletons? A mysterious crew of jet-black attack fleet--or whatever they called themselves--would not do in his life.

Not now.

Not ever.

The words of the lead didn't halt the adrenaline. Harsh words provided a fuel to the growing fire, the ember in him grossing a furnace. Before another threat could land on his ears, he dashed from the hide in the refresher. Moments splurged his eyes, laying his soul a costly response. Blood trickled to the surface as the fumes polluted the air. Not a breath escaped him as the Force ran through his being, pushing him onward to the enemy.

He just hoped he would get to him before the vibroblade got to Jinred. Already the crimson poison had infected Ridwan's eyes, any more would leave his comrade with less time on his hands than Ridwan fought for.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Welz crashed backwards as the adept collided with them. It knocked the agent to the ground with the Sullustan on top of him so hard that his secured respirator was dislodged from its seal around his face. Both the Inquisitoriate agent and the rebel Sullustan drew in a gasp of breath in surprise, sealing their fates. Welz was already on his hands and knees, stumbling to get up as his lungs set on fire.

He was through. Despair collapsed upon him, all of his efforts to promote himself had come to naught in one night at the hands of an adept. The accursed Force once again would steal from him as it had been from the people of the galaxy for ages. Welz felt himself collapse on his side, his hands at his chest, his gloved fingers trying to dig at his rib cage, an instinctive response to resist the unnatural pain that felt as if it were burning him from the inside out. He looked up at the force adept, blood and pure hatred clouding his vision.

"Sir!"

A soldier who had just finished watching the rest of the civilians die in a similar manner to what Agent Welz was experiencing stepped forward. His rifle was up in one breath and upon exhaling, Staff SGT Muldane pulled the trigger. The choking Sullustan rolled over with a scorch mark bored into the top of his skull. One traitor was neutralized. With the determined death of Agent Welz, even though he was still breathing at the moment, he would not be surviving this, Muldane was now the commanding unit of the task force. As capable as he was though, he would not accept a death similar to Agent Welz. He wasn't going to take any chances at all.

"This is Staff Sergeant Muldane, Extraction Task Force Alpha 336. Inquisitoriate Agent Cl 3 Welz is down. An Order 66 is still in progress, requesting back up and another agent."

He looked over his shoulder to the seven other soldiers in the room and then pointed to the adept.

"Take him down men. Watch your lanes."

They drew their rifles, triggers ready as soon as they had a lock on the adept before them.

=======

"Sir."

"Report..."

Helghast stood in the operations room where the Inquisitor was sorting information and determining the most efficient methods for the Inquisitoriate to tackle the more recent issues that Y'roth had undertaken. Helghast was on his way to Doldur to speak with Moff Tarkin when he had heard of a series of stings against terrorist cells in Kuat were soon to occur. The meeting with Moff Tarkin could be post poned, the appointment would not even be established until he entered the Doldur sector.

"Sir, diverting communication stream now..."

Helghast listened to the replay of what was occuring and the profiles of the rebel and the agent flashed before his vision.

"Sir, will you be deploying, Sir?"

[Ridwan Vars]

Silence swallowed Ridwan's senses. Everything became dull, beside the shock that painted his face like a war mask. Many survivors of the Jedi had carried such a face before. Death shrouded even the Force adept, leaving their reliance on emotion to guide for at least a second. Wise falter under the hopelessness of a friend, master or fellow Jedi falling into the pit of death beside them. All for a meaningless cause of power.

Power?

Ridwan's eyes took in the sizzling remains of his colleague and friend. Jinred had welcomed him happily to a new life. Desperation pushed for Ridwan to cling to such willing friends and company, hoping to live his life somewhat normal. The faint dreams busted at the seams as the darkened spot sent fume into the poison of the room.

Shock had presented Ridwan with a chance. He could not breathe. He could barley function, but his mind had been trained for effortless activity. Even as death surrounded him, bodies piled along one another for the senseless purpose, he noticed possibility. There was still a chance to find the image in recollection, instead of a place of remembrance.

Grabbing onto the last hope, he swung his body into action without the aid of the thwarted air. Throwing his arm into the depths of the Force, he pulled out a bag of tricks. The arms raised in offense, but he had become too fast. One step sent him forward, rushing to the door at the standing defender. A blaster pointed at his face, his hands opened to cripple it. Under the unmeasurable pressure of the Force, the blaster's hull dived inward.

Ridwan's hand did not close, and before an action could detail a defeat he pressed it against the soldier's face with added measure. The push pressed through the husk, leaving a damaging nose as he drove the body forward against the door. Hope rode on the velocity and weight to break through the sealed door.

If he could get out, he could breath...and live. At least live by some measure--running was living in some way or another.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Inquisitor Helghast stood outside the troop transport, ready for deployment. The other two had just arrived. Before him stood the two other members of Project Nightmare that he had brought with him in case of such a situation, Bren'lar Scothis and Danni Reyok. These two and Helghast emitted a similar sense of dread among their prey, the dread of knowing there was no mercy, there was no hope, no avenue of escape beyond death. And then death rarely came fast.

Overall within the Inquisitoriate, a three to one ratio was the assured odds to successfuly overcome a force adept in any situation. In Project Nightmare, it was overkill. Their helmets were on, the pale receptors of their helmets glowing a ghastly hue; bystanders and nearby workers averted their eyes from the three mechanical monstronsities. The Nightmares held an aura and reputation about them that gushed of death and mortality like an opened artery.

Sir, your deployment window is now available, Sir.

All three slipped into the transport, their armor, for its mass and appearance, was surprisingly quiet and agile. The black door of the transport closed behind them as they took their seats, a dark blue glow being cast over their armor and weapons.

IMP ran the tactical overlay in their HUD, a small diagram of the sector, a highlighted building indicating the extraction site turned gas chamber. The mechanical voice of IMP was then projected into all three of their helmets instead of Helghast's alone.

The adept has now escaped the building. The sector is locked down however and there is no virtual escape possible. Three task forces are now on scene and the walls and security systems are up. Any random ports of evacuation, sewers, ventillation, has already been rigged and secured. The Task Forces will manage the adept until your arrival.

Helghast was unmoving. Nothing was new about this situation. One more adept crawled out from underneath their rocks. One more adept would indulge the questions of the Inquisitoriate. Because where there was one adept, there were more. They were attracted to each other and often had quite intimate relationships which would eventually lead to their downfall.

Scothis was leaning over, his HUD was scanning and rescanning his C-14, the sniper-mod attached to make the weapon the top of the line in long range light arms. The compensators always had to be readjusted though due to the varied environments and gravities that Project Nightmare was introduced to. Scothis looked up, the pale blue eyes of his visors leaving a light trail in the darkness as he looked from Reyok to Helghast.

"Sir, in what manner is the adept to be taken, Sir?"

Scothis spoke strictly military, linguistically speaking, when he spoke with the Sir. Even Reyok knew Scothis wasn't so well spoken anywhere else. But the Sir, there was nothing familiar with him. The term familiar and all there in didn't relate to Y'roth Helghast at all. This didn't bother Scothis in the least. He could think of no better man than Helghast to lead something like Project Nightmare.

"Alive Sergeant."

That voice though. Even without the helmet, Scothis had never met a man who sounded like that. So much like some kind of machine, not like a droid, but a machine.

=======

"What the...?! There he is! Snipers! Hit him in the legs!"

Staff Sergeant Aliyosh pointed down the road from where he stood on the corner of the flat roof ontop of a building. He pointed with his rifle and made sure the targeting laser hit the adept as it would signal to every other unit that Aliyosh had a mark.

Moments ago, the adept had burst out of the diner like a diving bullet. Soldiers had slowly followed behind, dragging a dead Agent, two dead soldiers, a dead Sullustan, and a still shaken SSG Muldane. And now the three Task Forces, consisting of around 40 men each, were attempting to keep the adept on the run. The adept couldn't escape the sector, but if he hid, he could catch his breath. And from what Aliyosh understood, Project Nightmare was on its way. There was no room for error in protocol. As long as Aliyosh did what he was supposed to do, there would be no altercations. The sniper beside SSG Aliyosh fired, a bright lance of red energy headed towards the legs of the adept running down the alley.

[Ridwan Vars]

Skid!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!"

The scream echo through the alleyway, rumbling the sleep of the neighborhood and scum alike. Homeless rustled in their boxes and old cloths as Ridwan's body splatted on the floor. A quick step, but not quick enough, and he was hitting the canvas was with a thud and a sizzle at the shoulder. The agony threaded a needle through his inners as he remained for a moment. Thought overwhelmed the pain, but it could not leave it without it's punishment.

Ridwan had exposed himself, and been dealt with.

The conclusion had not set, but the anguish detail the possibility in all it's clarity. The fee of a righteous life had been on complete display in such a wicked galaxy, but he would maintain. Faith stroll through his impulses as his legs pressed forth. Pushing him from the dirty grounds, he struggled through the alleyway with the impending end calling at his rear in the sounds of trotting footsteps. Darkened soldiers rolled through the night shade, their eyes darting for the demise that would consume the Kiffar.

An eyebrow furrow in sharp pain as he glanced over his shoulder. Twitches perked his head about as he stagger against the wall to find a hiding place. The building remained high, built and fortified for industrial usage. Time had wasted the place for ordeals of community service, and other non-profit occupations. Beside the mingling that settled in the day, the night left the place empty and remedial. Ridwan had been on the planet for long enough to know a few secrets, and before he could find the chance to slip in his step he sled through a hole.

A few homeless people called the basement a shelter, but with the heat so warm outside it wasn't exactly the place of preference. Blocks had been constructed with new shelters for the bums and scum to rummage in their goods in isolation. Ridwan found the damp environment cold, but it was necessary spot to evade the imminent doom.

"Frag," he whispered, his eyes darting from side to side in the empty darkness. "What the frell did I get myself into?"

[Danni Reyok]

Gleaming green eye’s followed IMP’s overlay with perfect comprehension. Plans and protocol was a new thing, it wasn’t something that Reyok had paid close attention to when she was on her own. Now, it’s what she lived for; no wrong step, no wrong move, no wrong order, and no wrong decision. Everything was perfect and by the book.

The plan was set, IMP was done and now the three of them waited. Danni supposed she should be honored by the fact that Helghast had chosen her to come along on a mission instead of one of the more experienced members of Project Nightmare. But really, she didn’t feel like she thought she would. Her assassin’s pride was failing, and surprisingly it didn’t matter to her.

Listening silently as Helghast stated that he wanted the target to be captured alive, Reyok couldn’t help but smirk. Every adept these days were wanted alive, Danni didn’t understand why the Imperial Government didn’t just kill them off. After all, these adepts were more of a hazard than a help.

Her adrenaline was at a peak as she started playing slightly with the hatch to her favorite melee weapons. Even being with the Nightmares didn’t stop her from getting excited before a mission; it was a natural. . .instinct. Much like killing.

The loud degenerating whoosh of the engines on the transport was a signal for Reyok to get ready. She stood fluidly and moved to the side hatch; the azure lights of her HUD bore into the durasteel door.

Her mission; was to catch this adept. To draw him from his hiding place; and hopefully Scothis wouldn’t miss. Although she knew perfectly well that he wouldn’t.

The transport slowed under her feet and she waited eagerly.

“Quickly and quietly, sir?” Danni’s voice was full of hollow amusement; she was sure that the those could see the wicked grin that lay underneath her helmet.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast was not a people person in any respect, as few would even remark the Inquisitor as a person, but he was trained in the intuitive arts of picking up the slightest sign or conveyance and making an accurate conclusion of that person. Reyok asked her question, and Helghast hit the command for the side hatch to open; the transport was hovering four meters from the ground, nothing for the compensating Nightmare armor they wore.

"The adept will be executed, Sergeant."

He was not stating the conclusion to sate the anticipation of the kill, a trait they both shared. Helghast could hear the question of conclusion in her voice, as to why death was not the first priority in handling adepts rather than a secondary or third. But then Reyok had not been in the Empire during the time when the Jedi and other force adepts and been a swarm of poisonous insects, spreading disloyalty and insurrection amidst the ranks of the Imperial citizens. At that time, death had been the first order of business when dealing with adepts. But now, the brave and the bold had all but been wiped out. And the fledglings, the sickly adepts, and the eldery were left behind, hiding in the corners of the galaxy until they snapped, irresistably thrusting themselves back into the eyes of the Empire as their chaotic Force compelled them to do. And they were connected. One could always lead to more. And Helghast was not content that they were merely in hiding, isolated from society for their own protection. Their corruption was not even worth existing in quarantine.

The area has been evaluated and all priority Imperial personnel and associates have been evacuated.

Helghast looked to Reyok and then out the open hatch. On his HUD, the comm channel switched to open wave transmission on the INQ receivers.

"This is Inquisitor Helghast. This sector had been tainted with treason and is harboring a rogue adept. Purify the sector and keep your distance from Project Nightmare."

The channel reverted back to the passive PN receivers as he looked back to Reyok.

"Go, maintain line of sight distance with me and kill on sight."

Scothis checked his rifle before loading a clip into the rifle. He withdrew another clip, checking the rounds one more time before loading them into the second slide for his alternating fire trigger. The second magazine had a dark blue band around it meaning the rounds were tranq rounds, enough to knock a Rancor down.

=======

"This is Inquisitor Helghast. This sector had been tainted with treason and is harboring a rogue adept. Purify the sector and keep your distance from Project Nightmare."

Project Nightmare was on the scene. A string of curses filled the passive wave lengths. The NCOs present were not entirely pleased but at the same time it meant one more adept would die or disappear into the blackness that was the Inquisitoriate Citadel.

SSG Aliyosh checked with his squad leaders and then gave the signal to start entering the buildings. Rifle fire was heard here and there, whoever the Inquisitoriate soldiers passed by, was left with a number of holes in their chest. Their screams were heard on occasion over the comm depending on their proximity to the soldiers when their victims perished but none of them were really bothered by it. Two of the three task forces had participated just last week with the systematic elimination of some agricultural villages in a nearby system that had been supporting rebel troops with smuggled consumables.

[Ridwan Vars]

The rustle caught Ridwan's ears. The building bellow with death, as the homeless scream in reply. Lull rumble of shots expelled Ridwan from his hole, digging his way out into the alleyway once more. A sly eye spread about the proximity, dispensing of any possible remnants to be casted off.

Anyone could be a threat, and Ridwan was in no place to be too secure. Movement was necessary to stay alive, and even the slightest sound would leave him darting in a different direction. The perfect trap was one unseen, and Ridwan wouldn't fault in such trials.

A leap threw him to the wall, starting a series of bounces before he reached the ceiling top. Above he might catch a better view of the oncoming threat. The plan had been set, he would survive this ordeal one way or another.

[Danni Reyok]

“Understood, sir.” The reply was dark and shadowed; time for business. Humor was out the window and it was time to focus. The kill was coming but the presence of death was already here. A crazy pleasure that Danni couldn’t help but love. It was like family to her, it gave her a sort of comfort she couldn’t explain.

Armor plated connected with the hard ground with not even a pin drop of noise. With no hesitation she moved; surprisingly gracefully in such a bulky suit. Her movements were that of water; swift, connected, smooth. She kept a distance away from Helghast but within range that she could still see the glowing cyan eyes of his armored helm.

The sector was a graveyard; bodies and trash. It felt like home; some much like it. The hatches on her hips were open; the handles were at easy access for her. There was no single noise; not a one. The streets were echoing and echoing with emptiness; something that Reyok hadn’t experienced in a long time.

She stood silently, no movement, even her breath was mute. There was someone around, she just need one little giveaway, one little mistake on the adepts side. It would happen, soon, she knew it would.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Scothis climbed up a fire escape, reaching the top of a three story building, and began to crawl over the pipes and ducts that made the central conditioning unit for the building. His enhanced vision specs on his HUD activated as he began his search. In urban environments, the tactical support team used the already established security network to provide Scothis' with additional perceptions. It proved useless as the HUD focused in on movement and vital signs of a man who had just leaped to a roof top from some alley below.

"Sir, I have eyes on the adept."

In the seconds it took to report, Scothis' HUD had tagged the man and the other members of Project Nightmare could see what Scothis saw in a smaller window of their vision. Their objective directionals suddenly swerved from their respective locations towards Scothis' target.

Helghast's voice followed immediately thereafter.

"Bring the adept down."

Y'roth exploded into movement. He was taking an indirect path towards the adept as to close off his avenues of movement and keep him in the sights of Scothis while Reyok could close in. For being a mechanical hulk and moving like a juggernaut, the power suit made little to no sound, the stealth compensators working perfectly. In the darkness, only the trail of their visors was readily apparent to their black armor.

[Ridwan Vars]

Silence welcomed his steps as he flew across the buildings in boundless leaps. Seamless movements kept his motions in absolute fluidity, carrying him forward with elegance and grace. Despite the emergence of demise from the ashes of the past, he had kept his adrenaline acute for usage. All the training from his father remained well within his grasp, even when so distant from Galantos.

A frown carved it's way along his lips as he glanced upward, searching for any possible obstacle or follower. Anything could be classified as an enemy at this point, leaving even birds within his strike. The height of the buildings continued to tower higher as he treaded onward, eyes forever surveying the scenery.

There was a possibility that an attack could still bounce from below, but the chances were slim. The ceiling remained as a nice plateau for an overpowering reach at any foe who threated him. Whoever attempted a sneak attack would regret it.

[Danni Reyok]

The boss’ words would make any girl like her grin . . . too bad Reyok was nothing like any other girl. She really wasn’t like anybody; male or female, unless witnessing the last drop of blood seep from a tortured body is comforting to any one else. A cat-like smile peeled her lips back at the thought; exposing fine white teeth. Her excited was broiling and she was on her way.

Swift wasn’t even the word to describe how fast Danni moved. Short, heavy strides moved three times as fast as anyone would have thought. She weaved through the streets swiftly and more so important, quietly. Silent. The breeze that whipped between the buildings was the only thing to be heard. Scothis had found the adept and surely Danni would find him too.

She followed the sights that Scothis saw on the screen of her helmet and in only a sort amount of time she was nearly on top of her prey. Nerves on end, Reyok fluidly pulled at the handles of her Ryyk blades. Cat and mouse was over and show time was in a countdown.

Perfect silver blades were at the ready; all she had to do was wait for the prime opportunity to show itself.

After all, everyone slips once in a lifetime.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Scothis exhaled, a familiar breathing pattern ingrained into his muscle memory and the moment his body came to rest at the natural point of no movement, he fired. The C-14 sniper mod convulsed in a seamless fluid action, the mechanics designed so well as it launched a tranq round at a high speed from a remarkable distance away.

Helghast was close enough to turn the corner and look at the adept from where it was ontop of the building. In that second his HUD signaled that a shot had been fired and Helghast wasn't going to ruin the path by scaring the adept out of it just yet.

[Ridwan Vars]

Speed is an adequete attribute for any fearful animal in the cycle of life. A quick dance could fling an incoming attack into turmoil, meanwhile a slow body coupled with mass always was formidable. Ridwan knew all too well his abilities, and no heed was given when he felt death creep at his shoulders. One step sent him flying through the air at the incoming tranquilizers, his eyes ahead and thoughts without bound.

The Force opened a gateway to the world. Every motions and notion ran in accordance to it's whisper that eased into his ear. Even in horrid moments his reliance on the all-knowing gave him a step, that few could take away.

"Move it, move it."

Encouragement could come from no one else beside himself, and he barked like a coach. The slightest slip could throw him into an abyss, too deep for him to go soaring back up. Without wings coupled on his back, he flew through the sky to land on another roof top.

Step after step, leap after leap, he evaded the shots. He would not be killed.

He would not be killed...

[Danni Reyok]

Reyok didn’t have to hear or see the shooting begin in order to know a shot was taken; the presence in the air shifted dramatically. Immediately she was moving back down the alley she had been snooping around. Midway in the alley, she threw a quick glance upward; three cables ran along the upper parts of the buildings and just below those was a small ledge running the entire side of the structure.

A tiny grin picked at the corner of her mouth as she flexed her fingers; it was time to make all those action holofilms come to life. With the little room she had, Danni prepared herself for her little show. One step up the wall sent her propelling diagonally toward the opposite wall; with a minor shift in direction and a powerful push she rebounded off the building to once again fly the opposite way. The gauntlets of her armor clamped hard onto the small ledge jutting out of the building.

It was child’s play to ease herself up on the ledge; the adrenaline pushed her senses. A mere breath later and she launched herself at the closest wire. Within moments, she was in an acrobat spin and soon after she hoisted herself onto the roof. Her mind was ready and eyes sharp.

She was behind the target and as soon as Scothis stopped shooting; she would gladly take his place in the assault.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Scothis' HUD flashed red and his finger eased off the trigger. As high and mighty as some adepts liked to think of themselves, they weren't beyond dirty tricks like leading a line of fire into friendly combatants. Not that Scothis would even if an adept tried, he was cautious enough to not even make the risk.

"He's all yours."

Reyok was in the green to slaughter the adept if she had the mind for it. Too bad Helghast wanted the slime alive.

[Ridwan Vars]

"Hm?"

Sounds came shallow. Seconds had carried Ridwan off, but his ears didn't forget his own steps. The rigid, quick leaps pressed the ceiling with a subtle crudeness to off-shoot his elegant body language. All was a portrait of his past, his teacher, and young learnings. Even the slightest motion contain some habit that had fester throughout the years. Times had allowed him to become studious, listen intently and gain from little.

Plus, he didn't like being surprised.

In a sudden sweep, the adept swung about with his hands lifted and out. He had run long enough, and the slaughter had crept it's way to his shoulder. Ridwan had told himself over and over that death was certain, and one of the few certain aspects of life--running would only delay the inevitable. The splurge of adrenaline only dwindle a bit as his eyes graced the foe.

He was ready.

Absolutely ready.

"What now?"

[Ridwan Vars]

A frown perched on his lips like a bird, but he couldn't fly away.

There was no escape, no way out. The grimace restrained outside tore him apart within. Although he knew death to be the neigbor with life, he didn't want to be friendly to it. There would be a fight, and he would die.

He readied himself, and with the best weapon. The frown died before him, and across his lips came a smile.

"I'm ready when you are."

[Danni Reyok]

A faint reflection worthy of rivaling that of the adepts smile spread like a wild fire against the flesh of her mouth. It was almost saddening to know that such a unique specimen had its fate already written from start to finish. However, a permanent story it was, there was room for alteration; possible gruesome details could changed.

The reflection grew with shear insanity, this boy was ready for death, and Danni could sense it with perfect distinctness. Under the blood seeking veil in her mind; she held an awkward respect toward him . . . no, not him. His willingness and actions; death was coming and he might as well make it a show.

It was a personality much like her own, if she ever was put in a situation like this. It was a shallow pity that such martyr would fall under these circumstances. She wouldn’t honor him, he didn’t deserve it, but she would acknowledge him.

And she did. In the deadly silence, her head was bent in fading appraisal. It was no sooner that she snapped. The first wave of throwing daggers flew towards the adept just as the last of any warmth in her eyes bled out through her veins. She knew that those few blades were a mere nothing; although they provided a flawless distraction as she was given time to crash forward.

With gleaming Ryyk blades drawn; she followed in the path left directly behind the sailing daggers. If he was ready, so be it, so was she. And it was inevitable that she was going to make him bleed.

[Ridwan Vars]

"Man, oh man."

The Galantos accent of the farmland tore through his common Basic, and the twain signaled his body. Memories flashed through his mind of times with his father. The studying, training and learning enforced a habitual understanding of the skills. Rehearsed movements became flawless displays of the Jedi.

All of it felt so long ago, and his accent prompted nostalgia. For the slightest moment he felt himself return to those days, the times when he was younger and less defined in his skills. A roughness was on his edges, but he had grown since then.

His father would be proud.

In a boosted leap, he scaled the sky above his foe to land near her parting place. Ridwan didn't seek to devour his opponent, or bash back in return. Faith set him to let any enemy undo themselves before he struck, it was a code his father lived by...it was a code he'd die by.

[Danni Reyok]

. . . Good . . .

He was showing what he was, what the beginning of his power was, even. Speed, however, was something that could be matched with ease; that was the beauty of having a neural implant. It was surprising, that a weakness was wiped from the existence in one person, only to be heightened and be succumbed by no other trait.

The adept landed with grace but her own swift hand had already sent a second wave of knives sailing in the direction she had just vacated. Once again, she did not expect them to hit him; just enough to made him move. Just enough to let her know him.

Her attack with the daggers was identical to the first she threw; only this time she did not follow their path. This time, she would wait or at least try to. Hunger for blood shed was strong in her violent nature and it was proving hard for her to keep still.

Strict training had allowed her to at the most keep such a hunger at bay for some small amount of time. Strict were the punishments that left more that just physical scares for her carelessness in the past and strict was the patience that she had learned to oblige, that any good soldier had to follow.

The daggers were more than on their mark and her second move was finished. She awaited eagerly on the tips of her toes for his next move.

[Ridwan Vars]

Battle was nothing new to Ridwan.

Training had set him on a rigid path through combat. The fiercest opponent he had faced had been his mentor, his father, and he managed to gain even in his numerous losses. Even his ticks, and mistakes developed from those sunny, hot days out in the farmlands of Galantos with his father.

He would be proud...

Ridwan wasn't phased by the second platoon of daggers. Instead of repeat the same feat, he dug in his depths as they came. Intuition had spelled a spell anew, and with the calling of his closest friend, The Force, he calmed the oncoming danger. A hand extended, he opened his palms wide to unleash to inner giant which shifted the dagger's direction back wards.

A change of momentum was in need if he would survive, or even last--and switching to the offensive seemed to be the best route. Ridwan showed no emotion as the daggers turned about and headed toward home.

He had run long enough, it was time for the brawl.

[Danni Reyok]

So . . . he was going to fight back . . .

Perfect, she had an endless list of activities to fuel the fun the two of them were about to begin. His Force trick was ancient history and easily escapable. She half-heartedly dodged forward and out of the hit range of her won sharpened daggers. A gruesome grin worked the corners of her mouth. He didn’t know it yet, but he had just helped her create the boundaries of her soon-to-be playground.

A playground where the two would play and only one would win; the advantage was hers, of course. It was a game where she was the game master and he was a mere pawn.

With only slight alterations on how the game could be played the result was very readable . . . death. This game played for two had started and it was his turn. Whether he was prepared or not, he was staring Death in the face and she was hell’s personal messenger.

The grin she held never failed, game time! And only one was walking away from this game, alive.

[Ridwan Vars]

A sneer parted Ridwan's calm features. The motions weren't sudden, a surprise or anything weird, but he was disappointed. Despite the offensive retort, he was at a disadvantage. The scrutiny of his eyes attempted to unravel the troublesome bounds set, but he couldn't. His next move would require a more imaginative basis for his survival.

Ridwan dashed forward, his speed rapid as he darted toward his foe. Not a name had been claimed, it was simply an opponent.

He could deal with that.

The joints in the Jedi's legs went to work, binded with the elegance of the Force he leaped bounds into the sky. Above he reigned, the heavens embracing him as the rooftop came to be an ant within his eyes. Then, in a sudden sweep, the Force was unleashed from his usage and reality wrapped about him. In a rough push, gravity collapsed on him as his accuracy was sharpened for a hard landing.

This foe would be smashed within the seconds as his feet came diving down.

[Y'roth Helghast]

The adept couldn't change course from where he was now and with seconds and closing, his full focus on Reyok. Helghast drew his modified tranquilizer pistol and fired with expert precision at the adept.

The round carried the chemical titled "Dead Man's Dream", DMD for short. The chemical put the victim into a physically dormant state, to a degree that the person would appear dead without the proper equipment to see otherwise. Their mental state, on the contrary, would be very much aware. The chemical had traumatizing consequences though on how the victim perceived reality. They would have nightmares, and nothing random, but pulling from the victim's subconcious, that which would draw them into a state of despair and hopelessness. Helghast had seen a number of subjects simply go insane when their paralysis wore off. Adepts had a stronger resistance to it though and while they suffered the immediate effects, their mental state did not decay into long term insanity, merely short term.

Helghast hadn't been interested in intervening right away, allowing Reyok to apply herself. But the direction of combat taken would have eventually lead to the death of the adept and Helghast wanted the adept alive. There were too many adepts appearing from thin air after what should've driven them into a near extinct state. This many reappearances after the death of the Emperor only continued to bolster Helghast's belief that the Jedi were not only hiding, but were organized and were training themselves to prepare for the proper counterstrike so that they may return to their former point of power and bring their corruptive traits back into society. If this adept was a part of them, or had been, or intended to, he would give the Inquisitoriate the link it needed.

[Danni Reyok]

A life . . .without discipline is utter weakness.
But . . . a life with discipline is complete strength.

And strength she had; could she have done it without the training she received from the Empire? She doubted it; however, now hotheadedness would have been her downfall. It again was fairly simple to escape the adepts ‘power’ dive. She moved swiftly and was about to attack again; but through her heightened senses she realized what Helghast had done.

The fire in her cold emerald eyes disappeared; it was obvious Y’roth didn’t want this boy dead yet. Although, she did know that when the Sir was done with him, she would be there to end it.

As for now, Danni merely dodged her way across the rooftop; it was only a matter of time before whatever drug Helghast shot into the adept would take its effect. And whatever that drug was, there was no doubt it was a good one.

[Ridwan Vars]

Ridwan hit the ground hard.

A thud echoed through his skull, leaving his mind blank and his heart screaming. No voice could be found, but he yelled with a closed mouth. Pain reared it's ugly head from his depths, edging it's way through every part of his being. Darkness clouded his judgment, finding himself in a field of distraught. Disdain tamper with his care, his senses, but he was barley conscious. Only a tremor could be found twitching his eyes as he hoped to force sight from closed eyes.

They weren't made to open, not for now...

Maybe not for later...

A bout raged inside, but his body was silent. There was no an external notion, gesture or move to signify life - he was out cold. In the frigid escape of his mind, body and soul dived a serum that began tearing away at his existence. The darkness that dulled his judgment attempted to sprawl itself throughout his essence. The feeling wasn't new, he had sense such turmoil within before.

The thought was a nightmare, at least by instinct - but it was far worst.

Far...far worst.