Revenge truly is a dish best served cold. (Bespin)

[Zasz Grimm]

It had been relatively easy to get past the guards; these troopers weren't trained in the art of detecting someone like him. The tricky part would be the attache of Crimson Guards both inside and outside the Ambassador's chambers. But as that intruder approached he'd noticed that the perimeter patrols were getting closer and closer. A grin formed on the Jedi's lips; it was time to get his hands dirty.

How many years had he sat back and nearly lost his mind, stricken with grief? The thought of so many of his fellow Jedi slain at the hands of the Empire that now sought to rule the Galaxy? Now would be the time to strike back. Now that massive war machine would start to feel the sting of it's actions. And not by some grandiose space battle. Not by the determination of a military's strength and tactics. No; it would be decided by bodies.

And those bodies would pile up so high that soon the aristocracies would have to notice. Noble houses would wonder if they would soon suffer the consequence of having to see bodies marred by the burn-marks of a lightsaber. And if they did, they would know. Their decision to back the play for one man's greed, one man's power, was wrong..

The two patrols were crossing paths- he had to go through them. How long had it been since he'd used his weapon in such a manner? Something deep within him tried to scream that this was wrong. This wasn't the code that he swore his life by! And what code did these hold themselves to? The slaying of innocents. He could remember the holo those years ago.

And that's when he made his move. The four troopers were just walking past each other. He hit the ground and rolled into them; and as he rose upwards that bright green blade came to life with hiss that spoke for him. He drove it into the firsts midsection and it carried well into the next trooper's cranium. Before the passing group even had a chance to react the Jedi spun and aimed for their chests. It was only a couple of seconds, and that blade was deactivated as it was placed on his hip again.

How long has it been since I felt this alive?

No delay was made as he progressed further down the hall and to a doorway. He pressed the code his source had given him and the door wooshed upwards and closed, that brown cloak billowing behind him.

Ambassador Truouy, a slippery snake of a Neimoidian. That was his target; not incredibly high up in the hierarchy as it went these days. But his hand in the tragedy of the Jedi would not go unpunished. After all this time the cretin would no doubt think he was safe, nestled away in one of the many spires on Bespin that was currently under Imperial Control. What's more, who would in their right mind would attempt a one man siege into a proverbial Imperial stronghold?

Someone who was determined to set the wrongs, right.

The next code was put into the door; and just as he was about to hit the button for the door to open up he sensed something. A presence- right beyond the door in front of him. His hand slipped towards his belt as he could feel the cold metal of the saber hilt against his hand. He caressed it almost..lovingly, as if it had been his only friend all these years. As the door shot open he saw white; he saw an Imperial insignia..And that was all he needed. That green light flashed again and whomever it was that had been there wasn't any longer. He didn't even pause to notice that it was a female ensign, no doubt just delivering a message! It didn't matter, the crimson guards were ahead of him. He had to be fast. It seemed like the blink of an eye; these lasted slightly longer. These were trained.

But in the end, what did they hope to accomplish in holding back a Jedi Master intent on the purpose of vengeance? Of a blood feud with their masters? The last door was before him. A hand was raised and power coursed through him. A magnificent roar was heard, or so it seemed. The doors bowed inwards and blew into the guards, metal ripping through them.

"Ambassador." His tone was entirely sarcastic, and he had an..odd look about his face.."How wonderful it is to see you again! I'm sure you don't remember me. But I imagine you remember the hundreds..no..thousands of innocent Jedi you helped to slaughter? And to think..We served you!"

Incessant ramblings came. The Neimoidian was actually begging for his life as Zasz approached, that ignited saber at his side, giving off that distinct hum. It was as if he'd been someone lost, a soldier without a cause. Without a war.

Oh but he had found it again.."Don't beg. It's unbecoming of you!" The gap had been closed. And he was cut down with a high pitch whine only particular to his species.

Elation. One down, hundreds of thousands to go. The only problem? He had absolutely no idea that the silent alarm had been triggered by the little bug-eye'd cretin.

[Besh]

Intruder. The Imperial agent assigned with security for the station on Bespin caught the silent alarm fairly quickly; following the camera trail was a number of dead bodies.

"We have what looks to be a Force adept. He has assassinated a Neimoidian member of the Trades Guild. Send agents to intercept."

The Agent turned to him.

"Intercept and capture if possible. Kill if necessary. Go."

The Agent known as Besh nodded and left.


------------------------------------


It didn't take long for Agent Besh to reach the suite formerly occupied by the Neimoidian. The other agents fanned out, setting themselves up with tazers and blasters set to stun.

Besh himself didn't wait. The power evidenced by the buckled and broken doors was too much, and likely honed; if the Adept wasn't distracted, they'd have no chance at capture.

So he wriggled his way through a vent above the Adept, silent and slow. An agent outside waited until the appropriate moment and shouted.

"Cease and desist! Security forces! Lay down your weapon and surrender!"

Besh slammed down on the vent grating and spilled onto the Adept from above, aiming to grab his arm and wrench the lightsaber from his hand.

[Zasz Grimm]

He was too caught up in his reverie. One of the many who had participated in the slaying of his brothers and sisters were dead. He felt that much more whole, that much more complete. Who could blame him for being so emotionally vested? His eye's opened to look down at the slain former Ambassador; admiring the burn marks from his saber. The agents had been silent enough- and he wasn't aware until he heard the settings of the blasters before he realized his folly. Obviously they had juiced up the security from what his source had last told him.

It was supposed to be in and out!

He had intended to reply something rather witty to the Agent, but that was all ended as he heard the crash above him and the sensation of impending doom above him...

NO!

His left hand rose upwards and the falling individual would feel that powerful rush of energy collide into it; the feeling of almost weightlessness about it- until it was pushed upwards and thrown back towards the ceiling from whence it came. But not before Zasz attempted a vicious strike from his saber upwards, attempting to end his life.

Blaster fire from his cohorts immediately followed; thought deftly dodged and deflected back at those who fired them. He watched as the energy blasts pulsed against the agents and then they crumpled to the ground. Their blasters were set to stun! This would not do; not at all.

He rushed the first agent that had fallen due to deflected fire- it was nearly impossible to follow his silhouette. His comrades would see that the Jedi slashed downwards, ending his life in a bright green arc. A hand rose and objects in the room- furniture, the Neimodian's desk, even shrapnel from the door was flying at the agents as they would have to seek cover.

"You're all going to die."..

Death, yet the force

Inwardly he rationalized all of this carnage as bringing peace to the Galaxy. All of this death for those of his fallen order. And these Agents would fall just the same as Ambassador. Though it was obvious from the flying debris he was kicking up with his ability, and the moving bodies and continuing blaster fire- he was trying to escape, as well. And little did he know that the one who'd fallen from the ceiling was apparently, still breathing.

[Besh]

The second the wave of concussive energy hit him, he reacted, pushing the grating down again into the swipe of the Adept's lightsaber. He needed to be disarmed, and quickly.

The agents were brought down too quickly for being trained to fight this very type of opponent; he would have to recommend more training. But the agents he commanded fanned out immediately, some taking cover, while others took some of the thrown debris full on.

He hit the ground and rolled, bringing himself around and masking himself with the Force as much as he could. This was a TYPE A opponent. Additional resources would be needed.

"You're all going to die..."

The Adept was obviously Dark. Agent Besh knew these were usually well versed in lightsaber and Force combat, but usually neglected hand to hand. With the other Agents still providing the distraction he needed and his presence still masked, Besh used the flying debris' noise to further mask his approach and launched himself up and at the rogue, unleashing two full fury punches to the man's kidneys and quickly brought his hands around to chop in opposite directions, intent on making the man drop his saber, if not break the arm completely.

[Zasz Grimm]

His statement had been factual; and very much laced with malicious intent. He had to get out of this room and further, out of the spire. But he was so focused on holding up the onslaught on the agents that he wasn't aware of the incoming attack. It was also undoubtedly in part that the being was masking his attack with a shroud of the force. It wasn't until he was beset upon- those punches came harshly and caused him to recoil, and those chops..

Never release your weapon. Ever!

And despite the man's best efforts, he still held onto that saber. He kicked onto the back of his heel and went airborne with the assistance of the Force. Besh would find, however, that as the Jedi rose upwards he was aiming to clip under his chin and plant a well formed kick to his face to cause disorientation. He landed a ways from where he'd been, the onslaught of fire from the remaining agents was still ever present. He went to deflect incoming shots- and though it looked sloppy and appeared to tax the Master, he did so. He swiveled and saw his escape- the large glass window.

And yet another blast was ushered from his hands and towards it, it shattered and all those in the room were taken off balance by the fast gushing winds of Bespin. And when they would gain their senses they would see that brown cloak disappearing as he grasped the side of the window- he let go. But not before he drove that lightsaber into the metal and it assisted him in his fall. Until he came down to the next level and the glass of that room gave way due to the immense heat of his blade.

He fell inwards and came to a roll. The room was empty; it allowed him to catch his breath. He was a level beneath the agents but he had to move. A wince was given as he deactivated his saber and clipped it to his hilt; his blade arm had been injured, but thankfully not broken. The Jedi proceeded through the halls- he had to make it to his ship.

[Sanya Tagge]

“This is Baroness Tagge...”

The secure communication channel used by the Imperial garrison of Cloud City crackled to life. In her office, Sanya stood at her desk, a scowl darkening her features. There had been a time not so long ago when the Empire had stationed only a token force on Cloud City but all of that had changed when they discovered that Jedi had been using the station as a safe-house. When Sanya spoke to the garrison now, her voice would carry into the helmets of dozens upon dozens of Stormtroopers, into the communicators of dock workers and the earpieces of customs officers. There were even some who were not directly under Imperial employ - mercenaries and guns for hire - who would hear the call to arms.

“There is a Force-using terrorist marauding about our city. I want all docking bays and landing pads secured. No one is to leave Cloud City until we have apprehended this traitor.”

[Besh]

Besh barely managed to take the kick on his own forearm, grunting from the pain of the glancing hit, and the quick succession of events afterward kept him from capitalizing on the success of the maneuver to put the Adept on the defensive.

Another agent ran to the viewport and looked down, seeing the Adept's cloak disappearing into the office of the lower level.

Agent Besh did not need to see it. He quickly gestured for the others to follow him, and they ran from the room to the service lifts, frantically trying to keep the attacker from escaping.

"This is Baroness Sanya Tagge..."

Besh tuned out the orders and jammed the correct button in the lift. He needed to continue running interference so the security garrison could clamp down around the Adept and give him fewer places to hide.

He exited the lift a level lower than the Adept, running through the floor plan of the section of offices they were in. If the Adept was trying to leave...

He raced for the entrances closest to landing pads, desperate to cut off his opponent and keep him occupied.

[Zasz Grimm]

Offices? It must be nice to conduct yourselves with civility when in actuality you were responsible for the deaths of so many. It must've been how they washed themselves clean of it. He was about to keep on going, but as he past by a desk he heard a females voice.

Baroness Tagge...

How handy for him that one of the officers or various members of the Empire had left their headset there. He picked it up and brought it to his ear and listened in.

"There is a Force-using terrorist marauding about our city. I want all docking bays and landing pads secured. No one is to leave Cloud City until we have apprehended this traitor."

Terrorist? Is that what I am? Marauding? I'm serving justice, sweetheart!

They were going to the landing pads, docking bays. How handy for him- but it was exactly what he had planned. Why would he park his ship out in the open for all to see? They could just roll back tapes and find out where he came from, and be waiting. No. That's why he'd gone through the arduous task of masking himself; using the outside of the spire's to gain entry, and then further into ventilation ducts. His ship was in no landing bay!

He grinned as he tossed the headset down. Perhaps he should pay this..Baroness a visit? She wasn't the intended target, no, the Neimoidian had already fallen. But another? A current member of the hierarchy? That would most assuredly throw them into dis-array!

Chaos, yet Harmony

No; he had to escape. His target had been dealt with, and whenever the death of that particular being fell on the right ears, they would know what was happening! He made it through the offices level quickly as he came to hallway. The lift was active, the agents above were on their way down. He darted to the right and headed for the alcove of stairs. He hoped that his sources information was correct at least to the the general lay out of the spire, otherwise..His plot of revenge would die here, with him.

A hand waived in front of the door as it whirled open. Stairs, but as he looked and listened, he heard the rumble of footsteps. The glossy white of stormtrooper helmets

"Oh this just keeps getting better."

They were set upon immediately. How could they prepare for the Jedi falling from above? In the midst of them immediately they could see that hateful green light of his saber striking them down, the cries and pleas of pain and requests for mercy evident. A couple of blaster shots got off- but the platoon was routed quickly. And so his escape continued.

Perhaps it might become evident to the slow learned Imperials that he wasn't headed for a docking bay or one of their many pads?

[Besh]

"Agent, Target is heading in opposite direction. I repeat, target is heading in the opposite direction."

Besh did not waste time on remonstrating himself for a tactical or strategic error. They were made, and the repercussions were dealt with, and all that could be done was minimizing the damage the error had caused.

"Cameras have recorded the target assaulting and eliminating two squads of Stormtroopers in Section 4-C; moving along the maintenance shafts and stairwells. Move to intercept; orders have changed to elimination. I repeat, Target is to be eliminated."

Besh moved quickly, racing toward a ventilation duct tearing off the grating that covered it. He squeezed in, and placed his hands and feet against the walls of the shaft, easing himself down using gravity.

He reached the floor below him in under a minute, and kicked out the panelling for that floor; rolling into a recessed doorway that stayed closed, likely locked down during the alert; the Adept would not be able to go anywhere without forcing himself through the doors or utilizing the tiny, lightless shafts of vents and heating ducts.

He pulled a blaster pistol from the holster at his back, a matte black weskar meant for portability, and stalked along the corridors, making his way to intercept the Adept before he could escape.

[Zasz Grimm]

Even though he should be, he wasn't thinking of an elegant escape plan. The whole facility had been alerted to his presence. If he didn't find a way to get out..He never would. They were sealing down the spire quickly; and with reaching out with that cognitive ability of his- time was running out. It sent a chill of panic through the master. He wasn't expecting this much force-to-bear by the Imperials.

Emotion, yet peace.

A deep breath as he eye'd the sealed door ahead. He'd noticed that someone was immediately close to him. No doubt a trained assassin or agent- but he'd dispensed of them only moments ago. What hope would this man have against him?

That lightsaber came alive and was drove into the top corner; he was cutting his way through. He only had a couple of more levels to get through; he wasn't even counting whomever was in the next room as an obstacle. He rounded the bottom and was coming up and then to the top again. A well placed kick and he was through. And that was whenever he saw that agent passing by; and upon further inspection noticed it was the one who'd managed to give him a bit of a tussle in the fray on the levels above..

"Oh it's you. Would've thought you'd given up; or take the cowards way out that you Imperials seem so prone to do."

That lightsaber seemed so menacing in his hand. He could barely feel the blow that had been given earlier; mayhaps that was the adrenaline?

"Put the weapon down. I can make this easier on you. There's no pain in one quick cut."

He offered a wry grin as he kept up that pace towards the Agent.

[Besh]

Besh remained silent as he barred the way the Adept wished to go; the blaster remained pointed at the ground, held firmly in both hands.

He waited, the Adept stalking closer, his smile growing wider and darker, until the last possible moment, while deadly in closer quarters, the lightsaber also became unwieldy; if he could catch the Adept off-guard, he could end the fight with only one good shot.


The Adept came close enough to strike at him with the lightsaber. He dove to the right, bringing his blaster to bear and firing twice, and rolling into a crouch, his blaster once more brought to bear. He fired again, using the little training and ability he had with the force the Adept used to aid his aim and tempo.

[Zasz Grimm]

The agent should've kept to his close-quarters combat; the deflections and reactions put in place by the Jedi easily matched the incoming barrage of fire from the Imperial. However, that was whenever he noticed something; an action that he'd thought was noticed on the levels above when the agent had the assistance of a squadron of backup.

"Do your employers know that they harbor a force sensitive in their midst? Imagine how embarrassing that could be to you if they found out!"

Zasz attempted to close the gap with dual slashes and fancy footwork, that brown cloak billowing about him making him seem a whirl of cloth. And both missed; he'd had enough of this. His hand came forward and that powerful wave of concussive force came against the agent, blowing him backwards and towards the wall. One could hope it might disarm the force-sensitive Agent.

"Ask yourself if I'm the real enemy. I didn't slaughter thousands of innocent people who swore to protect the Galaxy!"

[Besh]

Besh's fingers curled tightly around the blaster as the wave of concussive force swept him up and threw him against the wall. Even as he was lifted, though, he was firing.

"Do your employers know that they harbor a force sensitive in their midst? Imagine how embarrassing that could be to you if they found out!"

The Agent never answered the Adept; to speak was not to be heard. He even forcibly kept himself from thinking about the Programme that had created him, instead lowering his head and flattening his back to spread the impact and lessen the damage.

He hit the wall and landed on his feet, though without any steadiness; he kept his weight against the wall and fired three more times before the Adept blocked the shot and reflected it back at him. He let himself fall, and fired at specific points on the Adept's body, the head and the feet most often, forcing him to block the successive shots, or dodge them.

[Zasz Grimm]

The manner in which the agent hit the wall and the subsequent shots afterwards were sloppy. Easy to dodge, and much easier to deflect. He was growing tired of this. Was this all the might that the empire could bring to bear? Squadron's of cannon fodder troopers and agents, with one amongst them whom could barely stand against his fury?

If this truly was the case, perhaps he was better off running into the direction of those that had been sent to dispatch him by the Baroness. They would fair no better than the ones he'd already sent to the afterlife. Why put such an effort into trying to escape? Well, there was the small offchance he might be underestimating the Empire.

With his hand pointed at the wall, the agent would hear metal being ripped apart and then see pieces of the wall flying at him- it was a diversion. Zasz was behind them and as he got closer, and that last piece flew, a powerful strike moved to come down, to attempt to end his life.

[Sarah Lymia]

Emotion…any feeling, really….had energy. It had power to it. Even the smallest feeling sent invisible ripples through the force, basic knowledge that even the lowliest of people could figure out and grasp. But the concept was much subtler than that with an art to it that many adepts and even master adepts had difficulty with.

But for those gifted enough to sense the barest of ripples, feel the complex motions of thought, pick apart the tiniest nuances and shifting of feeling….there lay rare opportunities, experiences, and power.

And for those so gifted the carnage of this day…the fear and despair, anger and rage, pain and determination…even hope…lit a blinding psychic beacon. Like someone had triggered a supernova as a signal flare.

Sarah Lymia was one so gifted.

The trail wound and wove and the prey had gotten a fair head start. But she and those lead would catch up soon. Sooner for her.

Left

Right

Left

Stairs up

More emotion. Stronger. Closer. More Energy

Left
Right
Down the Corridor
Past the bodies on the floor.

More power. Energy. FASTER

Left Right Right Stairsuprightrhightleriglright DOOR

She flew through the saber-hewn passage in a force-enhanced blur fueled completely by the storm of emotional energy whirling and roiling in the air.
Sarah crashed shoulder-first into the rogue adept centimeters before he cut Agent Besh to ribbons.

The two smashed into the far wall, Sarah’s hand in an unshakeable vice grip about the adept’s saber arm. For a brief moment the two combatant’s eye locked.

The prey’s eyes widened in surprise and pain.

Hers burned with unrelenting fury.

Framed by a shock of satin-white hair with black and crimson attire all backed up with a diamond hard will; Sarah fit the image of the vengeful angel.

The moment finished ended abruptly when the fifty-four kilogram woman impossibly hurled her much, much larger opponent clear back across the room.

[Zasz Grimm]

The surprise truly did strike him; the Jedi had been so focused on ending the Agent's life he wasn't fully taking in his surroundings. And it cost him- the saber strike was an absolute miss as he was rocketed backwards with the woman pressing into him, he went to move the saber to try and mount some form of defense but found his arm bound.

His brows furled in anger until she released him in the air with that hurl- though she would find that he didn't go as far as she might expect. Inwardly he was still rather upset that he didn't perceive the incoming threat. No matter. While escape was key, he found himself unwilling to just up and run.

No. This would further serve his point. He backed away from both the newcomer and the agent, his free hand coming to assist in the removal of those robes and reveal beneath a dark colored battle tunic.

He spun the saber diligently in his hand and fingers, the hum and whirl of the blade comforted him, as if it were a serenade only for his ears. He eye'd the girl...

"You should've done more with your first strike. But that's so like your kind. Arrogant; impulsive. You've no idea what you've walked into here, girl."

Well, if that wasn't the epitome of hypocrisy. He should have already escaped this spiral and been done with this. But he found that a more powerful feeling was keeping him there.

"Though I must admit, your intensity was inspiring. Come, and see if you can hold the tempo."

[Besh]

Besh recovered quickly as Lymia tackled the Adept and threw him. The Adept was thriving on this. They needed to keep him distracted.

As it was, he was stymied in any angle of attack by Lymia. He rolled to the side, sticking to the walls, and brought his blaster to bear, but did not fire. He was more intent on taking any opening to move past the Adept and attack from behind.

[Sarah Lymia]

Sarah stretched her back, enjoyed feeling the series snap-crackle-pops. No preparation time and a few minutes at a flat-out sprint, up and down stairs no less, gave little time to loosen up.

"Arrogance?" The woman rotated her shoulders, tilted her head to the right.

POP

"Impulsive?" She regarded the rogue facing her, taking in his posture and breating in the invisible waves of emotion boiling off of him. Her head twisted to the left now.

POP

"You hipocrite." There, that was better at least, though not ideal by any means. "You charge in here murdering military personnel, government officials and civil servants alike. Unsanction and unrestrained use of the force."

Sarah tossed hair satin-white hair back with a shake of her head. She didn't know who this heretic was or whom he represented... and she didn't care.

"You killed four rookies....MY....rookies. I don't like having to explain to families that their sons and daughters died because some homicidal psychopath decided to go on a force-addicted rampage."

She stepped forward, eyes and features hardening, showing emotion for the first time. This one before her was seething with anger and hate and stank of corruption. There would be no salvation for him. Duty bound as an Inquisitor there was only one possible course that Sarah could take at this point.

"And I think you're providing enough intensity for the both of us. Do you feel that? The anguish....(she took a step forward)....the pain....(she squared off with the darksider)....the despair? It makes you just want to......."

Inquisitor Sarah Lymia, servant of the Office of the Inquisitoriate and protector of the Imperial citizens on this world, pulled all of the terror and fear left from the heretic's rampage out of the air, sucked air into her lungs, focused the emotional energy inside of her that she had just drained from the ether into a relentless wall of force, and...



SCREAMED