Forceful Entry

[Khendon Sevon]

Light flashed in the distance, a clap of thunder reverberating throughout the sleepy city. A hovercar sped by the two dark immersed figures, showing no signs of having seen them. The streets were desolate, tall buildings forming an impenetrable prison of durasteel and plast. Raindrops began to plummet towards the planet’s surface in a downwards spiral, striking with such force as to shatter into thousands of smaller likenesses.

Khendon grinned at his companion as the two walked on the duracrete sidewalk, clicking sounds emanating from their military boots. “Nice night,” said Khendon as he continued to look and walk forwards.

“That it is,” responded Vapor, a slight smirk crossing his face. The two continued onwards until they reached their destination, an old, beat up pub nestled between two office buildings.

[Daikun Fenix]

The sky had darkened, the breeze was picking up its speed. Thunderous rolls echoed through the air, and streaks of brilliant light danced across the skyline. Small drops of water began to splatter on the ground here and there, following no true pattern. In moments these drops would increase almost a ten-fold; it was clear that there was a powerful storm brewing in the background.

It was not normal for one to be roaming the streets at this hour. Especially not during an approaching storm. One man, however, walked quietly down the street. A lone figure on an empty city road.

He muttered something to himself about his rotten luck and turned a street corner just as a large drop of rain landed on the tip of his boot. Another proceeded to land on his shoulder, and before he could blink it seemed that rain was coming down in a constant stream.

He had no place to go to seek shelter. This was a run-down part of the city and he wasn't familiar enough with the rest of the area to find someplace dry to spend the night, or at least sit out the worst of this storm. It wasn't as if he had a change of clothing. He actually carried very few personal belongings. He was nearly broke, often going days at a time without much of a meal. He was a loner, a drifter, an outcast from the rest of society.

Looking up, he caught glimpse of a lit sign further down the road for a small pub. Any shelter was better than nothing, and it had been a while since his last meal. Come to think of it, he had not eaten since he arrived in the city two days ago. He stepped off the sidewalk and landed his foot in a puddle, which had already accumulated, though the rain had only been coming down for a few minutes. He made his way across the sreet and further down towards the pub.

[Vapor Kazuna]

Vapor continued on towards the dilapidated establishment, the clicking of his boots beginning to be drowned out by the increasing rainfall. His emerald green eyes flicked over to the figure walking to his right. How much Khendon had changed since the last time had seen him. But seven years would change anyone. You should know that, you most of all. Indeed, a very long seven years. It was growing hard to see in the torrent of rain that was now falling.

Vapor glanced up at the inky black clouds that rolled and heaved with brooding violence. He started to look away, but a crackle of lightning that arced across the sky stayed his wandering eye. For a moment there the patterns were visible, if only to him. Yes, he could see them, past the rain. He watched the struggle between forces within the storm; so much like the universe, with its constant struggle between light and dark. It was just as well that Vapor had finally given that particular struggle up.

Khendon coughed again, loud enough to be heard this time, and snapped Vapor out of his stormy reverie. Vapor smiled to himself at Khendon’s characteristic impatience.

“Forgive me. You have quite a stormy planet here.”

Vapor followed Khendon through the open pub door and looked around through the haze of the common room. Primarily humans here, but that was to be expected in any Imperial controlled territory. Tables and benches were scattered throughout the room, an oblong bar surrounded by gamblers was along one wall and opposite was a row of windows.

They sat down at one of the tables and began to chat about old times. A droid came by to take their orders as somewhere in a corner musicians began to play.

“So Khendon, Imperial Warlord now, eh? Fairly impressive. Though I suppose you owe it mainly to Darth Viscera. How did the old fool die, anyway?”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s brow folded and eyes narrowed, “How dare you speak of such a great man in so lowly a tone and manner. He died with thousands of brave soldiers looking up to him, each with infallible respect for both his history and what he had wrought, an Empire, each wholly willing to furnish their lives to save his. He died a hero, a man to be revered and studied, not cursed and belittled.

“In the mean time, you cowered light years away from the wars and pestilence that have riddled this galaxy as the Empire fell, you have run away from your Sith trainings, your friends, and betrayed those who cared about you. Only once the flames have died down, and chaos clenched the throat of the mightiest and subsided it do you return, to do what? Take a piece of what is not rightfully yours? To try and influence past friends who are fully fed up with your insolence?

“Apologize to myself and the resting soul of Viscera now, or I shall make you feel sorrow beyond your conception,” Khendon spat the words out, eyes becoming cold and filled with passion and hatred as he clenched his fists and sneered at the foul creature before him. The room had quieted in the time it took Khendon to say this, and the occupants turned and gawked at the argument presented before them, not because of its subject, but because of who was saying it, Warlord Sevon, ruler of the planet.

[Daikun Fenix]

For such a lonely and dismal night, the pub was certainly bustling with activity. Drunks lined the bar counter, friends and acquaintances conversed with each other. The air was thick with smoke, yet carried an enlightened feeling about it. It seemed like many of the patrons here were enjoying themselves, and were happy to be abel to leave their busy lives for just a brief period of time and kick back.

Wouldn't it be nice to have the luxury of being carefree? It was something he had always dreamed of, but knew he could never achieve. Not in this lifetime, at least.

His given name was unknown to him. His origins were a blur, a distant memory. He didn't know how long he had been alive, or what purpose his life was to serve. For over two decades he had been using the name Daikun, a name he adopted by what may have been fate. His memory could only go back that far, during a time when it seemed like he awoke and had no idea who or what he was.

A little girl once approached him in joy, calling him Daikun and saying how happy she was that he had returned. The girl's mother told her to mind herself, and that he was not the man the girl mistook him for. Apparently, Daikun was the girl's older brother, and he had been missing for quite some time. He was told he and Daikun had very similiar resemblance, and the girl was very young when her brother had left. Since that day he had been using the name Daikun, only because it was the first thing he could remember anyone addressing him as.

He had been on the run for as long as he could recall. There have been people trying to kill him for reasons he could not understand. However, he possessed an uncanny fighting ability and has managed to live thus far. He has acted totally on instinct his entire known lifespan, not knowing what else to act upon.

He took a sip of his warm beverage, something popular among the locals which contained a touch of alcohol. It warmed his insides, and for a moment he felt he could escape his gloomy existence. His temporary bliss was cut through by in intervention of reality.

The bright feeling in the room suddenly grew dim. He looked around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Then, two men caught his attention, far across on the other side of the bar. He turned to see the two, glaring at each other in anger. Daikun could sense the feelings between them, and although they were allies they seemed to be in some sort of disagreement that turned worse than it had started. Strangely, he could feel their energy signatures growing, a sensation he had never felt from two human beings before. Curiousity bested him, and he made his way across the bar to view the scene more closely.

[Vapor Kazuna]

Vapor raised his eyebrows at Khendon's sudden vehemence for him. Khendon had always been very touchy, and it seemed that his devotion to what used to be the Empire had allowed quite a bond between its figurehead and the hotheaded commander standing in front of him right now.

Vapor scanned the room, feeling the fear from the patrons and the anger from Khendon wash over him. A part of him buried deep, deep inside hungered for these emotions, fed on them. Shuddering for a moment, Vapor quenched these desires with a mighty effort. No. I will not become like that again. Never! He shuddered again, but regained his composure. He leaned forward and began speaking, his voice a harsh whisper and a terrible conviction burning in his eyes.

"I, run away and abandon my friends? I think not. I did turn away from my Sith training, and forevermore it will remain such. But I have not and will not run away.

"You speak as though the Empire is a mighty dream, meant to protect and defend. You do not speak of the pillage and rape they have brought to the galaxy. In your blindness you seem to think the only reason I have returned is so that I might have a piece of your mighty Empire.

"I have come before, when you have called. After the idyllic times we had training as young Sith were shattered, I came. Twice. Both times I found hollow echoes of the Empire's tyranny everywhere. I could take it no longer and went on a quest of my own, to find myself. You cannot even begin to image what I have found. What I have experienced. What I have lost.

“I have not come to steal a piece of your precious little pie that you so jealously guard. I had hoped to come find someone, anyone I could trust in. But it seems I was so very wrong. For the respect and friendship that existed between us once, I will apologize: to you, Warlord Sevon, and to the old, dead fool that you so worship.”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon slowly shook his head, leaning back in his chair, “all of the time you spent away, ‘searching for yourself’”, Khendon grunted in contempt, “wasted years,” Khendon cracked his neck, the clicking of his muscles stretching echoing throughout the room. “You should have stayed away, like the dog you are. I declare you treasonous, I hereby sentence you to death,” Khendon stood up, the chair flying away from him and slamming to the ground.

“I shall enjoy ripping your heart from your failing body and putting it in front of your eyes as it pumps its last few drops of blood, securing your final journey, and brining it to an end.” Khendon brought himself into a fighting stance, turning his body sideways to minimize the weaker points of his body that faced his opponent. Khendon bent his knees and began to move lightly on the balls of his feet, one arm at high guard, the other at low near his groin, fists clenched and ready. “Seeing as how you’re obviously rejecting your sith trainings, I shall just have to remind you.”

Khendon fed on his emotions, demanding the force to bend to his will and prepare him for battle. What a pathetic waste of a once good man, thought Khendon.

[Daikun Fenix]

Daikun could feel the tension building between the two men. It was an eerie feeling, though, as if the negative and positive energies between the two were tearing through him, sending chills up and down his spine. His stomach began to ache; his throat became dry. He fell into a chair, feeling as if his legs couldn't support him anymore; still, he kept his eyes fixed on the two strangers.

He was suffering from a memory relapse of sorts. On rare occasions, visions would come to him of things he did not recognize or understand. People he had never met, places he had never seen. Or so he thought. In some incident of déjà vu, the two men standing before him seemed almost familiar. And that power they could tap into, it all began making sense…

It was the Force. These two had sensitivity to the Force, no, strong control over it. He could feel the energies between them because, only a few years ago, he had discovered he was also mildly sensitive to this "greater power." He did not understand it, and never comprehended the power of it, but suddenly he was receiving an overwhelming dosage of Force energy, and his mind was not accustomed to it.

He had experienced the Force before, seemingly as if in some other lifetime. Once he established what he was experiencing, he concluded it would be possible to regain control of his self. He cleared his mind, and focused on the present, on what was going on in his presence. He opened his eyes to find the duo, engaged in a locked stare, on the verge of breaking out into full-fledged combat.

"How strange," he said to himself under his breath. "All those visions, and hardly a moment has passed..."

He knew in his mind that once the fight broke out, the pub would be a very dangerous place to be for just about any bystander. It was no use to try and get everyone out, though. There was no time, and most of the patrons were probably too drunk to care. He thought about intervening, but decided against it. It seemed best not to get involved yet. Daikun just braced himself, ready for what was going to happen...

[Vapor Kazuna]

Vapor watched Khendon seethe and rage with cold amusement glittering in his eyes. It was very amusing indeed, seeing the 'mighty warlord' get so upset over an imagined greed and a slight regarding a doddering old fool. It was Khendon's nature and, of course, his Sith trainings. The old Empire had always been eager to foster those with ready anger; it was a cornerstone of their trainings. Predictable.

Vapor watched Khendon marshal his Force energies. Khendon treated the Force like some kind of brutal attack dog. Only with overwhelming power could he get it to listen to him, and even after it had been cowed it only drove forward, lacking precision or grace. Blind rage, indeed.

The Force was not something to be used like that. It was a tool, a weapon. That was a lesson that Vapor had learned very well. To him the Force now felt like nothing more than an extension of his own natural senses and abilities.

Not bothering to deign Khendon's pretentious death sentence with a reply, Vapor just simply raised his eyebrows and reached forward to grab his drink, raising it in a mocking toast. Grasping his Force ability firmly, Vapor ripped the table out from the floor and sent it hurtling straight at Khendon.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon grinned and the table stopped in midair then was hurled towards the bar, a large crashing sound emanating throughout the room as a large mirror, which lined the back of the bar, shattered to a thousand shards of crystal. “Your powers are still as weak as ever, I see, Youth. You should never have left with the rest of us… Apprentice Kazuna. You’re pathetic.” Khendon kicked up towards Vapor’s neck but pulled back at the last second and changed his motion into a back kick with the opposite leg, the powerful attack connecting with Vapor’s mid-section causing him to keel over.

The dark creature burned within Khendon, and he slammed his knee into the chest of his past friend, popping sounds emitting from Vapor’s ribs as he fell to the ground finally, eyes closed.

“Fool,” spat Khendon.

[Daikun Fenix]

It had been almost an instant, but one man was already out. The offender's eyes hinted to more sinister intentions toward the other. Like it or not, this guy was good. It was almost a guarantee most people in the pub hardly even saw him move. Not Daikun, though. He had seen every move in his seemingly-fluid motion, and had already mildly calculated his fighting style. One way or another, this had to stop. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the two, and he knew deep down they were once very close companions, and then there was a third man...

Daikun knew what he had to do. It was the only thing he knew how to do; his whole nature revolved around it.

He was going to fight. Not to harm, only to protect. To protect both men from each other. He had no choice. The man on the ground began to stir, attempting to regain his footing. The other was already on the approach, about to swoop down on his prey for the finish.

The attacker had hardly heard the clicking sound of the hammer as it snapped back and into the chamber. The Force had alerted him, and he stopped as a bullet shot past him, mere centimeters in front of his eyes. The projectile rocketed into an aged bottle of wine, the bottle bursting into thousands of shards and vintage alcohol raining down to the floor. A sudden power surge dimmed the lights for a moment, as a sudden clap of thunder echoed through the night.

The man turned to find Daikun, about ten meters away, standing with his gun pointed with a shot that would land between his eyes. Whisps of smoke still poured out of the barrel, only to fade into nothing.

"I won't allow you to cause any more harm to Vapor," he spoke softly in minor disbelief. He knew the man's name and spoke it out loud without even realizing he spoke it.

"Khendon..."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon took a calming breath as he turned towards the new face. Normally, a firearm’s discharge would have caused him to go ballistic and quickly remove the threat, but something was odd. Khendon felt something, a presence he hadn’t noticed, and it was familiar in a way. The man who stood before Khendon he had never seen before, but he felt relaxed and calm towards the man, a blanket of recognition warmed him and caused an uncontrolled smile before Khendon’s inner demons smacked him upside the head and demanded action.

He quickly composed himself, his brow furrowing as he fell into an attack stance and threw off his cloak, revealing a pistol and lightsaber. “I don’t know wh--” Khendon allowed his voice to trail off and rephrased what he was about to say, “I can’t understand why you would fire a weapon at me, but you shall understand untold amounts of pain for it.”

[Daikun Fenix]

As often seen in classic western films, Daikun spun his pistol around his finger as he drew his arm back and thrust his weapon back into its holster. He stood almost at ease, not in a manner of arrogance, simply to try and bring control to the situation. He spoke softly once more, trying to reach out his feelings to his apparent opponent.

"Now is not the time to worry about explanations. All you must know is that you have no right to injure him ," he spoke, motioning to Vapor briefly with his eyes, "and no business challenging me. I was only doing my best to mediate."

Khendon, apparently that was in fact his name, narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. There was obviously no talking him out of it. He knew Khendon was never one to reject a challenge, especially one that presented itself so openly. The thing concerning him is how he knew that at all. If a fight is truly what the challenger desired, it was a fight he would receive.

Only fight to subdue his anger, he thought to himself. I have no desire to bring any real pain or discomfort to him. Not yet, at least.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon felt his center of gravity shift as he brought his left leg up and twisted his body away from his opponent, chambering his leg then slamming it to the ground, shifting his weight yet again as his feign took effect, sending Daikun into a quick attack stance as he moved out of the way into Khendon’s newly launched jab, which was yet another feign that moved the swift opponent into Khendon’s hook which he had fired quickly after his second feign.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to use this tactic throughout the fight, and he might as well throw the card away now and begin developing new tactics based on his opponent’s reactions.

Something was oddly familiar with this character, something that made Khendon want to stop and buy the man a drink, and talk of old times, but what old times was Khendon thinking about? He didn’t know this man!

[Daikun Fenix]

Daikun jerked his head back around to face Khendon. His estimations were right about his technique. The man moved fluently, basing his attacks on deceptions and feints. Daikun was about to curse himself; he expected the attacks, but still missed catching one. Obviously, the man was fast. Daikun had rarely seen so many manuevers pulled by a physical human form. Indeed, his great speed was only rivaled by his skill, and he had a strong bond with the Force to boot.

Not too much to worry about. Daikun knew even if he was feeling sluggish he could still rival, if not outdue, the man's speed. Before Khendon could regain his control from his first attack, Daikun was already on the move, making a swift jab to the bridge of his nose, hitting him with the flat-end of his palm. He follwed with a right hook, which Khendon attempted to intercept with his own forearm to block the attack.

Before he realized what had happened, Daikun withdrew his hook and shot his arm in the opposite direction, forcing his weight back. He snapped out a quick left kick to Khendon's midsection. His method had worked. Khendon had attacked with a feign, so Daikun retaliated with one, possibly the last thing one would expect despite how obvious it may seem.

He kicked his left leg up again connecting with the bottom of Khendon's jaw, driving it over his head and forcing his weight to flip around. A powerful right immediately followed, hitting the same part of his jaw, forcing his head back almost knocking him over. Daikun's legs flipped over him and he gracefully spun backwards, landing softly on an empty table.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon felt as if he would fall and brought his gravity down low, bending his knees and leaning forwards slight. He had underestimated his opponent greatly, and at a grave cost, he would not allow himself to do this again. The Warlord redistributed his weight, assigning a good portion to his back leg and bringing his body into a back stance, both of his hands made into fists and at a low guard, protecting his groin and midsection.

His ribs ached from the attack, and Khendon spat at the ground, his jaw numb from the repeated assaults. “You’re fast, and know a few moves, but that won’t save you,” Khendon absorbed the pain, exactly as he was taught to, he allowed it to fill him, along with rage, and generate a source to feed his powers.

The warrior flipped onto the far end of the table that his opponent stood on causing it to topple with both men’s weight, Daikun performing a midair spin to allow him to clear Khendon. As the man flew threw the air, Khendon pushed off his back leg, all of the power of his stance with it, and brought himself into a flying side kick, the force enhancing his movements and power as he collided with the gut of his opponent, sending him flying into a booth, the patrons scrambling out of his way.

Khendon dropped to the ground one leg after the other, his face placid, but heart boiling, as he fell into the back stance yet again, prepared for an attack, his mind thinking steps into the future as he remembered this time to throw in a counter-attack as soon as his opponent stated attacking.