Requiem: Bloody Sunday

[Jeseth Cloak]

U2 - Sunday Bloody Sunday

I can't believe the news today,
I can't close my eyes and make it go away.
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long? Tonight we can be as one.
Broken bottles under children's feet,
Bodies strewn across a dead end street,
But I won't heed the battle call,
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

And the battle's just begun,
There's many lost, but tell me who has won?
The trenches dug within our hearts,
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long, Tonight we can be as one.
Tonight, tonight.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

Wipe the tears from your eyes,
Wipe your tears away,
Wipe your blood shot eyes.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Sunday, bloody Sunday.

And it's true we are immune.
When fact is fiction and T.V. is reality,
And today the millions cry,
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.
The real battle just begun.
To claim the victory Jesus won,
On a Sunday bloody Sunday,
Sunday bloody Sunday.




Jeseth maneuvered his new ship carefully, watching as several fighters screamed in behind him. He gazed down at his ships readouts and raised a brow. X-Wings... Vintage trash.

His senses flashed with insight, his hands welling up with anticipation. The small ship he was piloting veered off to the side, narrowly dodging a spray of cannon fire from the lead fighter behind him. A man's voice came in through the ship's comm-channel. <font color=lightgreen>"This is your last warning. Land the ship immediately, or you will be engaged as a hostile."</font>

A smirk surfaced on Jeseth's face. He opened the comm-channel and replied calmly. "You will be engaged as a hostile." The other two fighters veered towards the small squadron's leader, who managed to pull up at the last minute. The other two ships collided into each other in a shower of chemical eruptions and debris. The squadron leader vanished as a pillar of fire licked at the bottom of his fighter, incinerating it's hull.

Jeseth sneered and punched the ship into hyperspace. The stars melded into one another in front of him, melting across the view port... until all space turned into a wall of pure light.


<center>____Munto Codru, Six Hours Later____


</center><font color=lightgreen size=1>-v^V- Incoming Transmission....
-v^V- Origin.... <font color=red>Corellia</font>
-v^V- Destination... Munto Codru, Trace Sha

N 77.7, E 66.6</font>


The message only held those coordinates... and they were located not far from The Sith Empire's head quarters. Leaves rustled along the ground, Jeseth's feet moving over them slowly. He scanned the area with his eyes, keeping himself alert. He would wait quietly, patiently, and hope that the message was not intercepted.

[Quellin Vos]

It had been prolonged and stressful trip in the tin can some would call a ship. But at last the two passengers had arrived at their destination, Munto Codru. Quellin hastily departed the prison-like ship. He eyed his master, Jeseth, still unsure if this was the smartest of things to do.

Quellin knew little about the planet Munto Codru, except for the fact it was inhabited by members of the Sith Empire. Ah, the Sith Empire, a group he had grown to despise over a course of a few months. He once called them family, but now they were his greatest enemies.

After a few moments of pondering, Quellin turned towards his master a bit puzzled. He knew who they sought, but for what reason? Quellin began to question Jeseth but hesitated. He figured all would come in due time and continued on.

[Trace Sha]

:: It was an unusual message he received, containing nothing more than a set of coordinates and a point of origin. The point of origin was interesting. Could it possibly be someone that had something to say about his father? He knew no one on Corellia.

Deciding it best to investigate on his own, he alerted no one else of the message, though that said nothing about the possibility of someone else receiving it as well. An unencrypted transmission could easily have been and most likely was, but it was the dead of the night and most members of this Empire were either off on other worlds, drinking in Rama’s Corner, or sleeping.

He ordered his personal IG-88 droid to remain behind on this occasion, so as to draw less attention and make his travel a little faster and more discreet.

The black clad Sith exited HQ and vanished into the absence of light, heading for the coordinates specified in the message. It wasn’t long before the two that were awaiting his arrival, felt a shift in the air. The wind around them seemed to stop and grow stagnant, as if an invisible force has suddenly surrounded them and cut off contact with their surroundings.

From a distance, Trace had seen the two among the darkness, but did not recognize either. He extended his telekinetic field out to where it surrounded the two of them, wondering what their reaction might be to being contained within an impenetrable field that they could not even see, and to keep them from attempting a possible sudden escape.

He leisurely continued his approach, a smug grin on his face, still unsure who these two were from this distance. His ghostly pale face almost the only thing discernable of his form as the shadows seemed to follow him. ::

[Morgana Dreada]

It had been years since Morgan had visited Coruscant and bore witness to the massacre which took place in the streets. She'd been there in search of her older brother, who had been missing for nearly a decade, but by the time she found where he was and arrived on the planet he was already dead. Morgana was distraught and knew not were to turn. At last, after speaking with Warren Azalin of the Greater Jedi Order she found that several people were responsible for the slaughter, among one of them was Trace Sha, of The Sith Empire. Morgana had never had much contact with that particular sect and was on neutral terms with the members, however she needed to know for certain if what Warren said was true.

She had kept a low profile, searching for what she could. Then there was a revelation. As she and her dear friend Alana Stormcloud continued their long journey, which began at the Coven of the Sith and would end on her home world of Argon, she came across a transmission. Whether it came to her by accident or was sent deliberately she was not going to ignore it. It was directed to Trace Sha and was nothing more than a set of coordinates and a location. Morgana knew not who would send such a transmission, she could only hope that it was someone from the Jedi Order who knew of her search and was aiding her for whatever reason.

Perhaps this was too good to be true, she thought to herself as she walked toward what appeared to be three figures. She was weary from her trip and had not gotten much sleep since she had left the Coven. She kept her distance, therefore she was not sure if she was certain about the number of people congregated and one appeared to be further off than the other two, approaching at a fast, somewhat confident pace. Morgana was on edge, she knew nothing about the planet she was on and nothing of the people who had sent the transmission.

Nearly 100 yards from the three figures she stopped and waited. She wished to see the outcome without being in the middle of the commotion, she was not going to rush to her death if it was not necessary. Morgana could only hope that none of them would be able to sense her presence from far off. Being so new to the force and having not her Amulet with her she had no way of blocking her presence from those who might be hostile.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth could see Trace's shadowy figure not too far off, bobbing up and down slightly as he walked. He felt a strange calm fall over the area... the air growing stale and unmoving. A few leaves that were suspended by the winds around them suddenly ceased their gliding motions, dropping straight to the ground.

Jeseth tilted his head slightly as he tried to get a better look at Trace. His eyes were many times more power than that of a human being... Even from this distance, he could clearly make out all of Trace's facial features, his clothing... even the design of the saber he wore clipped to his belt. Disorder.


Flash.


Murder... brother... A few brief thoughts seemed to project directly into Jeseth's head, peaking his senses. He saw another image flash... it was three men in a forest, one of them with wings, another strutting along a distance away from the first two. Jeseth was seeing through someone the eyes of another... but who?


Flash.


The sudden detached feeling ceased, but the presence he had felt looming upon them lingered. "Be mindful of our surroundings brother. Trace has not come alone... it seems he took a measure of caution before coming to meet us." His hand slid down, brushing back his coat to reveal two sabers attached to his belt, one just above the other. The one hung lowest was the light saber that previously belonged to the Jedi Knight, Fire Hazzard. The other was assuredly not a Jedi's light saber. It's very appearance seemed to give one the impression that it was designed to do anything but help others...

Trace arrived on the scene just in time to get a good look at it as Jeseth smiled somewhat sadistically. "And so we meet again, Trace Sha." He bowed, one hand moving backwards in a formal show of grace, the newly constructed saber griped within it. He trusted Trace to an extant much further than most others, but he didn't like not knowing who was out there watching him.

[Raven]

In the distance high up in the air, soaring, gliding, and silently moving through the darkness, there was another, besides the four present. But this was not a Sith or a Jedi, be it Dark or Light. The creature that had joined them was a spawn of the Dark though. A gift created from the very essence of Jeseth’s “child” Slayn, and presented to Trace.

It had not been intended to be a permanent living creature, but Slayn’s gift had been more powerful than he originally thought it to be. It continued to “live” in some fashion, and it did more than Slayn intended as well. Instead of only pleasing Trace, Slayn’s Master, with the display of power and ability., this new life now served the Sith Lord. Its servitude also included a connection, one that allowed the Dark Lord to see through the eyes of the creature almost as if they were his own.

And the Raven, now saw the uninvited visitor to this little get together, and Trace knew from what he saw that it was not someone he knew, and most definitely not someone that he invited, which thanks to the Raven, he would convey to Jeseth.

[Trace Sha]

:: Trace greeted the Dark Jedi before him with a small nod, immediately after which, his head turned in the direction which his ‘secondary vision’ had told him the other presence now occupied off in the distance. His head seemed to point in the direction of the uninvited guest in a questioning gesture. ::

“An associate of yours?”

:: He asked, conveying that it was not someone that he knew or had brought along, while at the same time trying to determine if the same could be held true for Jeseth or his associate. ::

[Jeseth Cloak]

"I wondered the same of you." Jeseth raised a brow, his black orb-like eyes becoming more visible to Trace. It was strange that they could convey so much, yet seem to feel so little. "It's a familiar presence... Though I can't place it...." He turned his head slightly and whispered to Quellin, "Go around and see if you can surprise our admirer. Trace and I have some things to discuss."

"Slayn conveyed to me once that you had mastered Disorder. Would you be willing to put that assumption to the test?" Jeseth wondered if they would have to engage the being that stalked them now... and he was briefly reminded of his encounter with Dalethria. In fact, the river he had met her by wasn't a long way from the spot that they were at... but he knew that this presence was not strong enough, or dark enough, to belong to that particular Sith.

[Quellin Vos]

With small nod of obedience Quellin set off to complete his task. He stealthy rushed forward, trying to mask his presence in the force as much as possible; he didn’t have long before the foreign creature caught wind of him. It wasn’t long before he was at the right speed, ducking and crouching behind any objects visible. Though trusting his master’s confidence in his own strength, Quellin was still a bit frightened as he approached what looked to be human. What was to be expected? The idea of death did not scare him, but making a mistake did.

Quellin could feel his entire body quiver, as he set dormant behind a timeworn rock. His breath was deep; he could feel his master’s impatience grow, as he sat idle. Why hadn’t he dealt with this being by now? The question ripped through his mind. Quellin wrenched at his head, his fingers beginning to break the scalp in frustration. The thought of failing his master, his group, himself was pure agony.

Quellin, get a hold of yourself, you’re stronger than this, he whispered to himself. He could only sooth the pain via the force, why did such miniscule thoughts bring such pain? His thoughts were soon interrupted as he heard motion. It was the indeed the intruder his master sent him to uncover. Acting on pure adrenaline Quellin arose from his coup.

This was not the ideal situation Quellin wanted, but for now it would suffice. Throwing back his cloak Quellin revealed the hilt of his saber, hoping to intimidate the stranger. “May I inquire who you are and what are your reasons for being here?” Quellin demanded as he prepared himself for any latent attacks.

[Morgana Dreada]

She always seemed to get interrupted when she was in deep thought. Morgana could just slap herself for being so distracted when in such a situation. She jumped when she heard his voice. He was so quiet at first, she didn't even hear him coming. It was irritating. This was very unlike her and certainly not the behavior of someone who spent nearly 15 years in a militia. Standing up slowly she turned around to face her stalker. He was indeed intimidating and Morgana wished not to provoke him. However, he seemed to be slightly uneasy at having to confront her. Perhaps this could be used to her advantage.

He stood looking at her, with his lightsaber visible as he parted his cloak. He looked as if he was awaiting a response. Then Morgana remembered that he had asked her a question, she had been so caught up in playing the defensive that she had forgotten to respond to him. Morgana was slightly tall for a woman but was in no way intimidating to a man, she wished to keep it this way. Slowly she removed her cloak. Her appearance would give any one of the opposite sex a false sense of security. She was rather pleasant to look at. Her long and fragile blonde hair, her large blue eyes, her delicate skin. She had always depended upon these traits to keep her within the good graces of her enemies until the time was right to strike.

Quellin seemed to let his guard down only slightly, as he could sense little or no force ability from her and see no weapon visible on her except for an old sword which would be no match against his lightsaber. He could sense that Morgana knew this as well, however something did seem amiss. Still he stood with that inquisitive look on his face. Morgana remember his question.

"No," she said slowly, hesitating slightly. Then suddenly she drew her sword, "you may not!"

With that she jumped into the air, raising her sword above her head then striking down at the surprised Dark Jedi. Quellin, however shaken up as he seemed to appear, had no qualms about drawing his own lightsaber and deflecting the attack with authority. Morgana was tossed backward roughly and fell on her rear several feet backward. Quellin was far stronger than she had imagined, but he did have a slightly surprised look on his face when she gazed up at him from the ground. She assumed it was the sword which should be in pieces at that moment, having come in contact with the lightsaber...but it was still intact.

[Trace Sha]

:: The Raven found a limb within a tree high above the uninvited visitor and the Dark Jedi, watching. Everything it could see, Trace could see as well, even though he was face to face with Jeseth.

A grin grew and danced across Trace’s lips as he heard what Jeseth had said, and also partly because of what he saw, though the fact her metal sword had not been severed by the lightsaber was a mystery.

He spoke in response to Jeseth, his face still bearing the grin. ::

“What kind of test may you have in mind?”

:: He asked and then turned in the direction of the conflict. ::

“It seems our uninvited guest has decided to engage your associate in combat, and she possesses the most interesting of weapons.”

:: He spoke this time while still looking in the direction of the conflict. It was too distant from where they were to see with natural eyes what was taking place, but Trace had another vantage. ::

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth peered through the trees, his better-than-human vision helping to bring a more detailed perspective of the battle before him. The trees were in the way and he only got glimpses of what was going on, but from what he could tell, Quellin wasn't in any danger. He would have sensed some kind of cry for help if that had been the case. The woman still appeared to be quite familiar to him... not only her presence, but her face. Where had he met her before?

"If Quellin will be keeping our guest entertained, then perhaps it's time for our sabers to meet. When I constructed Disorder I was but a learner... Now, I am a master." Jeseth opened his palm to reveal a hilt similar to that of Disorder, though darker. It wasn't quite as elegant... just black and silver. "Reaver, my saber... If you've truly tamed Disorder, then prove it."


<font size=4 color=red>Snap-Hissss...</font>


Like a vacuum, the saber tore away at the very fabric of the Force... it could render a Jedi's defensive tactics useless. It, too, like Disorder, had various settings and tricks concealed within it's small and wicked confines. It was not a match for the wild, destructive nature of Disorder. It wasn't meant to be; Like a counterpart, Reaver possessed those traits that it's kindred blade did not.

[Trace Sha]

:: No sooner had Jeseth began the ignition of his saber and the beginnings of the sound of it activating ripped through the night air, then Trace dropped low, expecting a strike and delivering one of his own at the same time.

A heavy steel laden boot swept at Jeseth’s feet as Trace simultaneously reached for Disorder, its metallic hilt blades making a scathing scratching sound against the surface of his coat as he withdrew it from its place. Its red blade spewed forth just as he was completing the twist of his leg sweep, coming into view held in a diagonal pattern in front of the Sith Lord, fully prepared to block or parry any oncoming retaliation.

His eyes reflected the piercing red light of the blade and the look they contained did not change, unlike the previous times Jeseth had witnessed Trace wield the blade. The dark brown eyes hinted red, bore a determined and pleasured look.

Trace had mastered the latent ability that his brother had released back when he was new to using the cursed weapon on Vjun and was able to make the natural TK field around his body intangible so that he could enjoy the feel of an up close and personal fight. ::

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth turned his wrist, the sabers length easily parrying the blow and coming in the way of Trace's leg. Jeseth used the opportunity to slice upwards with his wrist, singing trace's ankle slightly as he stepped back, attempting to loosen Trace's grip on Disorder. The two blades had crashed together in a shower of sparks, energy cracking between the two opponents with all the energy of a hundred souls, which Disorder had likely claimed in it's short life.

Trace was showing little signs of pain or delirium... he seemed to be harnessing the weapon well. Rama had wanted to break Trace away from the saber's maddening affect, and in his attempt had only succeeded in bonding his brother and the weapon together. The Dark Jedi flipped backwards to gain a few extra feet of running space, then darted forward with amazing agility and speed, his hands blurring as they manipulated the red beam before him to engage Trace.

[Quellin Vos]

What? How? This is not possible, no material, to my knowledge, could withstand such high temperatures! Such a puzzling question it was, but at this point Quellin cared little. He now knew she was armed and skilled in some form of combat, to what extent was unknown. With a dexterous grin Quellin’s shy-like personality dispersed as he formed an offensive posture. Schizophrenia maybe. The crimson saber cackled, burning through the moist air, the setting was now all too perfect.

Quellin rushed his assailant with full force, twisting the calamitous blade in a circular motion. His mannerisms were devilish indeed, the war cry alone was enough to dismay any normal being. But the tactics were not effective, Morgana arose without any concern, this skirmish would certainly be no walk in the park.

As Quellin neared his prey, he swung high, bringing his blade careening down upon the so-called victim. Mental pictures flashed in his head, responses to this attack were eminent, and deducing which one the girl would choose was near impossible, not to mention ignorant. But following Morgana’s counter attacks would create a pattern; a flaw in her technique would be found.

[Slayn Cloak]

Sleep; A gateway to dreams to the future... maybe even to one's own surroundings. Slayn was asleep not to far away from the location of the others. He was in the midst of a dream... A window of sorts, and what he saw was unexpected. Two men were fighting - no wait: Three. A grueling battle was being witnessed, and then a pain was felt inside of Slayn, but to one of such as him it was exquisite. A smile took hold of his face, and although he was asleep, it still had a exacerbate grasp upon his features.

The Sith's eyes finally glazed open to see the night sky. He had been on a training pilgrimage in the wilderness of Montu Cudro. His Master had departed, and it was his intentions to track him down. He was getting better at controlling his dark gift. A stream of thoughts had crossed his mind since he first released this power. Did father mean for this? Will he use... Noise could be herd and strong presence felt. It was Jeseth and another fighting... Master?! Slayn kept himself hidden from his father and Master alike as best he could.

When he finally approached the disturbance and peered out from the foliage, he could see that it was two others… A man and a woman. Interesting... though none of my concern. So he continued his journey across the landscape. A few short moments later he happened upon an image that didn't agree with him: His father and master fighting. Keeping himself hidden once more, his mind began to race. What is the meaning of this? Why... what are they...

Father... Master... Father ... Master... He witnessed Jeseth make what looked to be an advantageous strike. Master!!!

[Morgana Dreada]

He was an incredible swordsman. Morgana could barley deflect all of the shots which he was swiping at her so ruthlessly. Morgana retreated somewhat and stumbled backward, nearly falling to the ground. He continued to walk toward her, he was relentless! She attempted to regain what was left of her balance then as he was swinging his weapon toward the side of her she blocked with her left arm then leapt forward and drove her knee into his face with all of her strength.

The Dark Jedi fell backward slightly but it seemed to yield Morgana very little, within seconds he was on his feet again. He had gained the upper-hand, it was clear at this point...painfully clear as Morgan suffered another lightsaber burn to her midsection as she narrowly avoided the searing blade. It was only a few short moments before her weapon was knocked from her tired hands. Once she was not armed Quellin quickly seized the opportunity and struck her in the face with the back of his fist.

She fell to her back with a thud and slid across the ground several feet. She was out of options, "My quarrel is not with you," she said gently, her voice soft and reassuring, "I seek the Sith you hold company with. Trace Sha. I am no threat to you or your comrades."

Morgana looked Quellin in the eyes so that he was sure to know that she was not deceiving him. She only hoped that he did not sense her intentions toward Trace Sha, or at least that he and the people he was with were not on friendly terms with the Sith. If Trace did indeed commit the atrocities with she believed, she would kill him without question.

[Trace Sha]

:: The heat of Jeseth’s blade had not penetrated Trace’s boot, but it had superheated the metal enough to burn the Sith Lord’s ankle. The pain from the searing of flesh only serving to strengthen his resolve even more so, feed him with more power over the Darkside. His, for the moment, intangible TK field began to shimmer and glow with a blue luminescence, ripple of eerie blue light flowing close to his skin, cascading his pale face in its strange light.

Trace rose, showing no slowness from the wound to his foot and ankle, in fact he seemed quicker and stronger than he had before. The two sabers clashed in a spewing of red sparks into the still night air.

Just as the weapons met Trace heard Slayn’s voice within his mind, but could not let it distract him from what was before him now. If he were to, it could spell his death, and this fight was merely only a test of abilities, pitting the Sith Lord against the Dark Jedi. It had been some time since they last engaged in any form of battle, and considering the outcome of their last Jeseth was probably itching to best Trace this time.

The blue glow around Trace seemed to grow and move away from him in tendrils, as if the field were either being manipulated or protecting Trace on its own accord. The strength of the two combatants seemed evenly matched as they each took turns thrusting with their sabers as the other parried, and returned to the offensive.

The tendrils started to look as if they were tentacles, becoming longer and longer as they stretched out to the sides of Trace and arced toward Jeseth from behind. They were about a dozen of them, each reaching for different parts of the Dark Jedi’s body. Some moved for his upper body, head and neck, some reaching for his midsection, midriff and arms, and some reaching for his legs, upper lower. They would soon have the Dark Jedi ensnared in their web of tangible thought generated power.

Trace intended to inform Slays of what was occurring here when he had the opportunity, but now was not the time, he did wish to live. ::

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth felt the tendrils moving for him, and smirked as a flash of thought brought up similar but blacker tentacles. They tore though the air to meet those which Trace had produced. The Dark Jedi's shadow was the source of the counter-attack and as far as Trace could tell his own shadow was quickly following in suit, translucent and incredibly cold extensions of it leaping up to take hold of his feet. Jeseth continued to move towards him, hoping to come within arms length of the man. Saber techniques had always been Jeseth's weaker talent, and he was much more effective when within range to touch his opponents.

Slayn had come... not surprising in Jeseth's mind, but certainly a distraction. He paused for a mere moment, and in that moment One of Trace's tentacles seized his left arm. He parried a strike from the Sith Lord's lightsaber as he brought his left hand forward and attempted to rip it away from the agent of the Dark Side that now held it tightly in place.

Be gone.

Lightening exploded from Jeseth's left hand, shattering the tentacle's grip and allowing him to rip his left hand away and take another step towards Trace.

[Slayn Cloak]

Slayn's mind was in conflict, his master and father battling, scaring and striking at one an other. The blast from Jeseth was strong it left his fingers with a brilliant light, arching out toward trace and crashing against something that to Slayn was unseen. The blast left its own reckoning upon Jeseth, his fingers where now blackened and dark. It seemed to Slayn that they had been burned. The use of the dark force is often double edge, I can't let this go on. My master could be harmed, or father... NO!
Slayn struggled to restrain himself though to any on looker he remained calm, but his mind was in deep parole. A wave built deep in his body, it was not of his mind, but a feeling still came. Slayn could feel his power growing with his confusion and rage. It was common among Sith to use only their emotion to grant them power with the force and their emotion governed their control on it. Slayn used a more controlled calming method, but always relied on emotion to bring out greater power, though this felt different he was confused and obscured. WHAT AM I TO... ERRRRHHHA!! His mind was now passed the point of reasoning and no longer was at haste, however the mind of the Sith was now erupting with fear. A deadly fear, that which one gets from the urge to preserve the self. Slayn was imprinted to protect and assist both these men. In that conflict was born a terrifying and dangerous power...