Chakta Sai Kae (Rayna)

Chakta Sai Kae

Lush emerald splurged over the grassland. Eloquent contrast of grazed the land in chestnut willow that perched over the fields. Creatures of many kind chirped in the melody of nature. Tranquility flowed through the leaves that brushed in the sigh of the wind. Taken aback by the utter artistry, the wind carried on effortlessly through the strands of grass. Above rested sea of clouds and meadow of teal. The green below, white and blue above gave a sublime visual. All the peace of the perfect illustration faded with a duo's clench.

Two lids coated their indigo eyes. Swept over in an attempt to exempt the world's allure, the blue-eyed owner took his view inward. On an astute tread through the crevice of the mind, the young figure pursued the past in a search for the future.

Time had brought much onto the man's platter. Once a simple Echani who kept to himself, a faithful night ran it's thread through until a new image was crafted. A closet of old thoughts were reformatted and changed. Everything had been adjusted and modified like the YT-series.

Jehkran requested it, but he knew not what he was stepping into. Underneath the mysterious title of a Jedi Padawan, he took grasp to an exotic being only known as the Force. On numerous occasions he would provide a whirlwind of concepts to win him over in impossible situations. Behind the flank of a normal man he possessed an array of techniques. The Dmath descendant had taken Rayna's teachings to heart. When he spoke, he listened. In many ways he was a perfect student. Tutelage was one of his most prized moments between himself and the young Jedi.

Occasions had requested his keen senses to become attuned. Fastidious crafting molded him into an example of a studious Padawan. During the numerous training sessions he channeled his movements into and mind into a world that was once foreign and unknown. Now it was renown, a grounds at which he walked through and upon. Gestures summoned the wind of this reality a number of times. Objects of many kind went flying as the breeze unseen, and strong push only felt carried it off into the distance. Such practices had led the diligent Echani to work throughout the nights.

All fields of Jedi principles and skills had been pursued, at least to the young Padawan's knowledge. Infatuation and blind support led the attentive down many routes behind his newfound Jedi Master toward an onslaught of defeats. Every experience with held another required trait to spinning brain. Cards were added to his deck, but once it seemed the deck was going to be blown away.

Against the charred, slimy flesh of a Hutt an anguish and terror horrified him to no end. Rayna had taken up Jehkran's training with a genuine conviction, but she also cared for his commission. Omitting the objective was only foolish, and despite the odds she continued forth on his trail down the route to many slavers. Pop-ups of enslaved critters spaced across the galaxy, but when the Hutt appeared on Nar Shaddaa it was certain the duo had to tumble in for another challenge.

Hutt were infamous for their slavery policies. Many races fell under the iron vice of the race's prime individuals, without a chance for freedom. Even the great Darth Vader had once laid under the puppetry of the grim, late Jabba.

Yet this man was different. A darkness emit about him that Jehkran had never before detected. When he spoke a foam of slime and old food trickled down the being's sloppy lips. The slug was a personification of disgust. Even a glance in his direction gave the young Padawan an uneasiness. Despite the defense of his newly formed lightsaber he reserved his rebuttal for later. After the quick encounter, the duo came up short once more.

Enslavement was a trouble that the two could not handle a lone, and it only became worst as Bounty Hunters took notice to the credits above their heads. Prying was not the best way to avoid bids of death. Before the two could say "choobies" onslaughts of assaults pealed at the hull of their ship, and nearly fried them on occasions. If it was not for the Echani teaching's and Rayna lightsaber supervision Jehkran would have been a goner more than once.

So many thoughts came to mind when he simply closed his eyes. Even the night conversations they held. Rayna was the first he spoke about his past with. Detailed and briefed her on the troubled Echani life that forced him into an eternal shyness and introvert lifestyle. Those hardened times across the galaxy had shaped him into a resentful being for long, and only through his dreams could he see his past and a broken future.

Only three months had passed since the faithful day, but Jehkran felt something that lasted longer for Rayna. He was her Padawan, an underling, a fortress of her teachings, but somewhere he felt more. Sometimes he caught himself observing her for more reasons the replaying her moves. When she pranced about the ship, he carried an awe about him. He was certain to keep it hidden, but it was harder than a rancor's rear end.

A lot could change in three months, and it did.

From desert of Tatooine to surface of Telos IV, he had encounter many facets of the galaxy and escaped it in a blink. From the depths of his past, he washed the numerous slots of ideas away momentarily. Presently he needed to focus. There was a refuel mandatory before he unleashed himself.

In an outburst of agility and velocity, his still frame leaped from a meditative sit to a stand. The glow of a shimmering blade ignited as his hand demanded it without a single touch. In the incisive clasp of Jehkran's two hands a blade resonated at his side as he wrenched it into a practiced hold. Green lit his face, slightly disoriented in it's illumination by the sunray's piercing through from above. It was sometime around noon, and Jehkran was set for his spar.

"I'm ready."




Note: Chakta Sai Kae is an old Corellian toast.

"You're too choked up on the hilt." She said from her own fighting position. "It's not as heavy as a sword, you don't need to control it like one." She'd reminded him of that several times in the past training sessions. He was picking up on the skill with rather ease, having studied martial arts before; but no one was perfect from the get go.

In the two months she had been training Jehkran she had been avoiding lightsaber combat. Like her two lives seperated by a year long void, her lightsaber tactics and skills were completely different from one another. The old teaching, embodied in the hilt that she held in her hand, the lightsaber she built as a young girl. In the hands of Jehkran was the hilt she had used recently in her return to the Sith Order. A collection piece from the Jedi paraphernalia collecter and expert Anz'aak of Wayland, given to her as a gift in her mission to attack the Sith. For Rayna, the lightsaber symbolized an aggressive attack she had since grown used to and employed often. Once she never killed, now it seemed all to often.

She had taught Jehkran something akin to the defensive skills she had learned long ago. To teach him aggression would be contrary the Jedi, if she couldn't be the perfect Jedi then maybe he could in her place. As open as they had become with each other in the past two months, she still kept so much from him. The guilt had finally began to trickle into her consciousness as he began to share his past.

She stared between the two green blades to his eyes as each combatant took a step forward in the slow initiation of the spar.

She needed to share something about her past with him, anything. They had a conversation every night about a variety of things, from serious to shallow topics. She couldn't help but feel they never had a true conversation. Her feet danced along the waving grass as she shunned her thoughts from her mind, entering a mental realm of steady focus. She would say something tonight, her last thought dissipated as the noise of clashing lightsabers emerged from the blades.

The day faded, and the sun followed. Night crept into the sky, blending in a darkened mystique with the sun splash that suddenly dried. Instead of the breeze that once was, it was replaced by a gust of whistling wind from a cool breathe. An eased notion ran across it as it rummaged through the land seeking a resting point.

Telos IV carried many wonders, but it's surface was the truest beauty it held. Amidst the extravagance of the land the two Jedi rested. In the day that past they had indulged in a session of spars. Battle wounds wrestled over the youngest face. Numerous falls led him to the ground readily, leaving scuffs to his newfound outfit.

Over the tide of time he had altered his ways. Instead of the reclusive uniform he wore before, tattered with the trials of time, he wore an adorn attire. Robes and artistic garbs draped his frame for loose, fitting movements. Albeit the struggle of combat had not been daily, training was eternal. Almost everything required his body to take to effortless maneuvers at a turn. Anything could happened and his clothing professed such a concept.

A fire sat between the two, sparking from a fine platform of small logs, twigs and rocks. Such materials for camping were wide spread across the world, especially in the grass fields. Trees poked along the fields of green, while pebbles and rocks were drawn as perch to many critters. Creatures could be heard chirping in the emptiness of the fading sun. Soon the sounds would whitter, and return in the next day. Slumber was on the horizon as the day headed to the exit.

"What are we gunna talk about tonight?" Jehkran asked, his eyes shifting off to the sky. Sparkles of distant stars blanket the heavens. Despite the many adventures he took, the night sky always dazzled him.

''I dunno." She responded casually. It's funny how they expected it, the nightly conversation. It had become inevitable, the two couldn't help but talk, couldn't help but share. She resisted, always. They'd skitter around the topic of each other's past, revealing small details. The kind of things that never seemed to embarressing or shocking. She'd twist a truth to a half lie in a vain attempt to lift a weight of her chest.

Oxygen filled her lungs as the small fire's trance danced in her eyes. She felt him wait for her to speak, maybe it was just in her mind. "Jehk..." She started but her own body resisted turning thoughts to words. "I'm not perfect." She blurted. Did she expect him to think she was? "I mean, that's not quite the way... I wanted to say... it."

The fire twisted around a thick branch. "Have you ever done anything you regret? Became something you didn't like? I-" She struggled. "Not that... Do you understand what I'm trying to say?... I mean ask?"

The Echani's eyes pried and scrutinized. She carried a mist about her, that was certain. After almost every conversation amidst the darkness of night, whether on ground or in space was filled with a withdraw. Jehkran always felt she with held something, and here it finally crept out of the shadows. Once before he hoped for her to do it when he unloaded a few baggage from his past, but now was different.

"I understand."

Sunshine had left the world, and all that was left were the stars under the grip of emptiness. A void of ebony coated the heaven's and the many prizes that it gained over the years sparkled from far distances. Moments before Jehkran's eyes would have focused only on the beauty of it all, but instead his eyes had reverted to another subject. One which held many more trophies than space.

Rayna had bewitched him over the past months. Conversation after conversation led him deeper into her grasp. Now he stood beside her side as a dedicated, supportive Padawan. At times he did convert back to his old inclusive, thoughtful ways, but for the most part he was her possession.

An artifact of the Jedi to be molded like clay through her thoughts. However now, he could hold an impression. If she could tell him something, he might be an equal to her. As she said, she was not perfect and nor was he.

"What happened?"

His intuition helped her more than he could know. To answer 'what happened' would serve as a fair start; tell what happened, then explain its impact on her. Simply, right?

This was foolish. Say nothing and leave it alone for another day. She glanced at his inquiring face, she had to learn to trust him completely, as she expected from him. All it took was a simple decision, forget decision make it become instinct. "It started a few years ago..." The next words were easier. "I was part of a rebellion operation, seperate fom the Alliance, designed against the Sith. I took a mission to infiltrate the Sith Order on Korriban, to gain their trust and betray them."

It was as easy as reading the plot to a holomovie.

"Where it get's difficult is... my involvement. With the Sith." She sighed, how was she to say this properly. "It grew beyond what my task entailed." She could hardly go on, she didn't want to. She omitted the details in a vain effort to make everything seem alright. Jehkran was curious now, he would pry and she would give way. She was torn inside, part wanted him to leave it be another cried for him to give her the nudge to keep speaking.

Jehkran was studious. Echani found their emotions through battle, but motionless frames withheld the depths that overwhelmed them. Even with the guide of his new found, and trusted assistant the Force, he could not pry enough. The cool, cold blue amix the silver of his eyes tried to no avail to dig into the woman's soul. Many times he had tried to articulate what he saw.

She was a woman of divine status. An infatuation carried him down under as her support, providing his arms to lift her up. At times he showed his imperfection, and they slipped. Such times captured his mind for a moment as he gazed deeper into her. Memories of the Hutt and the chase that came during their departure of his mansion flushed his brain. He had been taken by mistakes, leaving Rayna to showcase her instinctively raw talents.

A few arms had been left severed, and the two were off to a safe haven. More than once she had saved him, and it hurt him to watch her troubled windows of her soul still not polished. He wanted to clean them, he wanted to do something to change her like she had done for him.

Defeat consumed him, and he opted for a sullen sigh.

"What else?"

She sighed again. "I fell in love with everything I stand against."

The memories trickled back. Loving another isn't as simple as the words so casually said. In a galaxy where such a concept had become so embellished, the words 'I love you' never mentioned the horrible truths behind what drove a person to feel that way.

"I loved him, and... I forsook myself for him." It was the same issue with her mission to take down the slavery ring, she didn't know that he truely believed her. She was afraid he believed that maybe she was exaggerating for sympathy. "I gave myself away on Korriban. The person you know now isn't who I was. It's as if there are two women. Two completely different people." Her voice resembled a decadent symphony as she fought back the tears. ''I killed her. And everyday I can feel her ashamed of me."

She sounded like she was mentally unstable. Like she had a split personality. She'd crossed the Rubicon now, she had to tell the rest no matter the consquences. His head would fill with questions, it would pain her to answer them. He had to know, he had the right.

"On Korriban, when I'd thought I was ready to go through with the mission... I betrayed the Sith. I made my alligences known and drew the Sith Knight who had trained me out and executed him. His other... apprentice. The one I... loved..." The scene had been replayed in her mind so often she could tell the story by heart.

Her voice had grown shaky now, she didn't want to stir to life the emotions she carefully tucked away. "I knew he'd come, I thought what we shared could bring him to the light. I was wrong. Everyone who had helped me in my efforts against the Sith were murdered, except for Nadja." Names of those she cared about returned to her mind, names she swore never to forget. "Then he came for me." She swallowed hard. "After I had been beaten, he took me to a cave owned by Southstar, his master, the one I fooled and betrayed..."

How was she to explain the significance of the cave? It was more than a bubble in the rock of Korriban, it was a hell of its own. "They called it the Dollhouse. It's a place-" She shook her head, she could never believe a living creature was capable of creating such a place. "They take prisoners. There's a side to the Force you've never seen Jehkran; A side so evil. Evil because of the men who abuse their gift." A flash of anger bore itself in a wave of sweat. Breathe, leave the anger behind. "The prisoners are experimented on. The Sith use the Force to deform and mangle people. They take memories with no regret. They create feelings, make men scream and weep. They take people's minds and change them to manipulate how they see fit, the Sith turn them into- into dolls."

Her hands shook, her mind protested going on her body resisted the growing emotion. "He did it to me. He took what I was, all because I gave myself to him." A teardrop trailed down her cheek. "The next year is empty, I was one of the lifeless dolls." Her chest heaved and her eyes grew red. The flood came and she surrendered to it. She could tell no more of her story, she could only weep.

"It's- It's not fair!" She moaned in a flurry of anger and sorrow. She dove into his blue and silver eyes looking for an answer, looking for hope, something to believe in, something to save her. To ask a question, she was barely capable of. For him to answer it, she hardly knew if he was capable. "Why me?" The incoherent words gushed from her mouth and she capitulated, wrapping her arms around Jehkran with nothing else left to say and only tears to offer.

The silver of Jehkran's eyes shined as he watched. Awe overwhelmed his brain, but could not flood through the gates of his distilled expression. He kept intent, prepared to swallow all the information whole. She was no experiment, but he wanted to study her, get to know her. Rayna had been a ball of secrecy for far too long for him to shrug off her stories.

Sympathy ran deep in him as he listened with intensity that could not be rivaled by the furious spar earlier. The one he had learned to call Master and friend had walked a road that very few could return. Now that she was before him, his arms could only restrain themselves are holding warding her away. He was the apprentice, the Padawan, but he wanted to be the Master once.

However, what he asked for showed itself. In a shimmer of glisten, her eyes displayed an agony that he had rarely seen in her. Over the tide of time he had been swept with the view of tears. War had terrorized his past when on Jabiim, and his father before him, but this was different. The agony was not a tear at the flesh, but at the soul underneath. Jehkran was not taught to cure such wounds.

Before he could repel the uncertainty he was thrown into a whirlwind of emotion expelled by his young Master. She delved into his hold, leaving his impulses as the only support. Off-beat reactions riddled his frame as his arm slowly, but surely, grappled about her being and held her close. All the comfort she required, he would happily give.

"Sometimes..." Jehkran began, his eyes flung to the sky. Stars still shined with their unique sparkle, but the tint of the heavens took the slight shimmer away. They didn't sparkle like they use to.

He could only sigh as he awaited the words to return to him. Although he had a few wise words to drop, maybe the timing wasn't perfect. Reassurance wasn't necessary, she needed present assistance.

Why me? He heard the words over and over in his head as he grabbed onto her. It was hard to decipher the jumble of his mind to develop the fitting words. He tried, though...like always.

"You'll be fine. Your gunna be okay," he whispered, running his hand across her head in smooth embrace. With him, he could only hope that she could keep her well. As the apprentice it was awkward, but as a friend it was only right.

"So I messed up real bad last night." Rayna said to Nadja as she sorted through a bin. She couldn't feel Jehkran in the area, perhaps he ventured out on his own, she recalled him earlier saying he'd like to investigate the area on his own. She'd been encouraging meditation, hopefully he was practicing.

"What do you mean 'messed up real bad.' How crazy could things have gotten?" She asked, looking up from the navigation charts on screen.

Rayna replied, "I think I may have told him too much about me."

Concern tinged Nadja's voice, "How much?"

She cast her eyes down and stopped moving her hands about the container. "The bad parts, about the Sith. Me and Jorshal. The Dollhouse."

"Oh." Nadja said with realization this was going to be a long talk. "You alright?"

In a sigh that barely resembled words Rayna said, "Yeah." She paused. ''I cried. It wasn't very proper of me, a knight shouldn't cry in the arms of her apprentice.''

Nadja didn't want to comment on that. "Did he take it well?"

Rayna gave only a curious look.

"Well I mean, you're pouring your guts out about an old boyfriend to a guy who obviously has a thing for you."

"He does not have a thing for me." Rayna assured. "And there's more to it than issues with an old boyfriend. It's so much more complex than that."

Nadja said, "I know. He's going to have a hard time making sense of it. I know you barely have it figured out, how's he going to? Did you tell him about the Aequitians on Sonne yet?''

''No, just the Sith. Nothing before or after."

"Ah, so you just shared the light stuff then. The road only gets rockier after this.'' Nadja said and glanced at the screen again.

"I'll break him in slowly, he's got to know sometime. It's only right."

"True. But you're afraid he'll reject you if he learns more." Nadja sounded confident. Working with a Force user that Rayna was so familiar with left no room for secrets.

So much for a long conversation. Rayna had no reply, she only returned to her work of sorting though parts and pieces to weaponry. Nadja was right, if Jehkran knew everything... he might leave or worse, he may hate her. Who was she, one who was hardly the perfect Jedi, to guide him the the path of the light?

Morning brisk swept over the planet in a spiral and twirl. Apt eased over, turning in minuscule spins. A sun nestled above, the splash of it's shine tainting the landscape below. Sparkles glisten from the dangling rays, stabbing through the white fluff that crowded the sky. Spare rays illuminated the azure heaven's, submerge in the white balls. Daybreak had past, and soon it would be the afternoon.

In the twist of space and time sat one in solitude admix the shift of life. Fixture of lull sunk into the pores of the land, disallowing even a chirp to whoosh over or murmur. Not a tremor lit the ground, shined by the bright sky. A content swig the world down, leaving only a galactic smile to represent Telos.

Jehkran was that man of isolation. Although the breeze brushed over at a serene pace, it still carried his white strands in a bundle. The threads of pearl flushed over his clenched eyes. Meditation had become a recent priority his, but nothing anew. Rayna's tutelage was simply a revisit to old lessons. Days of past had trickled over in his mind as his newly found Master spoke only days before.

She explained with a voice she could only carry. Even in his mind in mock, he could not do it without effort. At times the youth was swallowed in the moment of conversation, amazed at her ways. Always she stood with power, unmatched and supreme knowledge. The night previous had stained the image only slightly, and a smudge of his thumb had return the freshness. Just as always, he idolized his Master. The troubled Knight was still human, despite his beckon to her commands, and he liked that about her.

Yet these thoughts did not scold his mind into a fizzing boil. Instead, he drew a world. A planet of rain, disaster and anguish blossomed in the tranquility of his mind. He fester in the absurdity of it all, and watched the images flash across the screen of his concealed eyes. Precognition, recognition...it was something.

But, Jehkran did not open his eyes. Many times before he did, but this time would be different. He had to focus.

"I want to tell him more, but..." Rayna said as she set a rolled up sheet of paper to the counter along the wall of the living quarters. It'd been nearly a half a standard hour before either had said anything more.

"Go slower with him." Nadja cleared the screen which contained the navigation charts and stood up. ''I don't think you can afford to explode like this again."

Her hands unrolled the sheet of paper slowly, her mind was elsewhere. "I'll take it easy with him. But he does have a right to know."

Monotonously Nadja returned, "Agreed." She reached out and completely unrolled the sheet of paper, placing a glass and a book on each of her corners. "Give him a few days to stew. Then finish the story about the Sith."

"Yeah." Rayna whispered as she tried in vain to focus on the drawing before her.

"This is all you remember about Gerda the Hutt's place?" She said, helping to bring Rayna's mind into focus.

She nodded, "This is everywhere we went, everywhere we saw. I've marked what corridors I saw in red, the closed doors in blue."

"Ok, based on the above pictures I took while you two were in there, we've got about a twentieth of the palace mapped out. We can't go in just yet."

What was intended by Rayna to be a confrontation with the creature responsible for the slave ring had turned into a set up leaving Rayna and Jehkran largely underarmed. He knew they were coming. The man with the villa on Velskos 3 lead them straight to the hutt in charge, apparently he had warned that hutt as well. Standing at the center of a circle of heavily armed men had left Rayna embarressed at best. No longer had they the element of surprise, they had revealed themselves and lost a valuable ally in her battle against the slave ring. It was arrogant and foolish to run in like that, she knew it, Nadja knew it and she assumed Jehkran knew it as well.

"What's the plan, boss?" Nadja said as she glanced back at the aerial photos and then at the map.

"Go back with bigger guns." Rayna met Nadja's eyes. "The Halve Maen can pull of an aerial bombardment, or at least with the cloak on we can make it seem as if we have a fleet powerful enough to smash the palace to dust."

Have you not learned anything? Was what Nadja wanted to say, she withheld. "Okay." She pursed her lips for a moment.

"Cut off the head and the body will die." Rayna said matter-of-factly. "We can do it.''

"Cut off the head and two more grow back." Nadja said. "You're sure this will destroy the ring?"

A flash of heat waved over Rayna, why couldn't Nadja just agree? "I'm sure. With enough force anything will give way."

"Alright..." Nadja said and stepped away from Rayna's sketch of the floor plan. "Run it by Jehk then, we'll go from there."

"Fine." Rayna said and turned away from the paper bitterly. "I'll go now."

Sounds.

At first a crinkle, then it changed. The snippets of squabble echoed through his foresight and lit his brain. A void sat present, and sparkles of light animated the concealed realm. Behind the fascade of his calm exterior sat a raging rush of emotion. Overwhelmed with the flush of life, beings pesented themselves from enlightments in the once darkened world.

Faces contorted by squeezed view, ran about in their minimized plane. Life existed in turmoil as the fire emit about a building, while young and old felt the carnage swallow their last breathe. A wisp of a beam graced the scenery and split the whirlwind of anguish into two.

A body fell, and it ended. The sounds halted, and only a single face emit.

"Rayna!"

Jehkran's head popped from his silence, his head diverting with his eyes over his shoulder. Rayna was on her way, he could feel it.

She peered over at his eyes, he was hardly in a meditiative trance. It seemed more like he was resting while waiting. "Hey." She said.

His eyes opened, he seemed glad to see her.

She walked around his body to face him, stepping over large dew laden plants and flowers. "I want to ask you something." She paused, fighting off the awkward feelings of the previous night was difficulut. "About the... the mission, I guess it would be called."

She laid out a few sketches of her own depicting the situation and her strategy. "We can take this Hutt on, I don't care about how strong his palace may be. I think we can handle whatever he throws at us."

She pointed out her sketch of what she remembered. "I know this much from memory. I think if we stick to the same route as last time we should be able to force our way through to confront him and cut off the head of this slave ring."

She was leaving quite a few holes in the plan, the ones Nadja brought up and more. She could tackle them more easily if she let Jehkran find them. Hopefully he wouldn't. She said, "I really think now is the time to do this before any more lives are ruined."

Three months was a long time. The young introvert had converted into a brash, intellectual student of the Force. Rayna had allowed him to prosper under her tutelage. A guide of understanding accelerated his raw potential into a field of blossomed ability.

Even his mind had grown over the daily routines and practices. Events gave his keen senses a time to utilize his newly acquired talents. Acquainted with the difficulties before, Jehkran for saw situations clearer than most Padawan of any age.

Echani fuel on battle. Calculation gave the race all the attributes necessary to overcome stronger foe. An adversary could only bring out the best in the challenger. There was no wall that could not be hurdled without a proper start. Everything was relative to the youth. Teachings of Rayna and his days on Jabiim intertwined to web a savvy pupil. Observation was just another one of his grand expertise.

So, the adoloscent listened. He watched her as he always did, detailing her frame and words. For a sort while his mind was derailed by her being, but soon returned to the moment. Certainly she could not have notice, she did not before. An inhale parted her statement and his as he began, unfolding his legs to relax. They parted across the nutritious grass below. Scrutiny had ended, and the research was in need of a conclusion.

"I agree about one thing..." Jehkran voice strolled an accentuated calm. The attuned adult rasp, and depth of his voice mixed into the melody of his sly, smooth natural voice. It happened often. More or less, he sounded like a professional bachelor. Just like his father.

"We do need to the strike soon."

A smile parted the slim part of his lips as he stared into Rayna's eyes. The bottom of his lip was slightly sucked in at the right end, a restrained bite calling his mind back onto the matter. For some odd reason he felt bad.

"And hard.

But not full frontal. And the same route would be expected. I think we should get closer under a guise of sort. Do more research around and inside before we head in again."

The smile slit to the side, and formed a smirk. Beside the containment, he felt quite confident about his input. Hopefully this time it would matter.

"I mean, if that is alright with you."

If it's alright with her? No, it wasn't. Why was it that everyone seemed to be against her on this? Granted she asked for his opinion, she didn't expect him to disagree with her. She was beginning to fear perhaps she had given away too much of the authoritatian power she held over him the night before.

"So you don't think we can overpower them?" She asked rather forcefully. "I've waited a long time to find out where that slimy Hutt has been hiding and I swore that as soon as I did I was gonna put an end to his misery. It's been the plan, my plan, the whole time. Before you showed up-" Her voice abruptly ended. She was on the brink of yelling. She wanted to, she wanted to scream.

"I'm sorry, its-" Her tongue fumbled over words. "It's not you. I'm sorry." She glared at the ground, she didn't want to see his face. Never before had she come close to yelling, lately things were unravelling for her.

"Can we talk about this later?" The question was rhetorical, she didn't want to talk anymore. Without so much as a short glance upward she turned and left as quickly as possible.

Was it the lack of spice or the abundance of stress that made her shake? She blamed her body's unwillingness to function smoothly on both. Stressed was an understatement. It'd been nearly two days without a fix. Last night she had bore her soul to her apprentice, of which the past two months she had been trying to train; training an apprentice was harder than she ever thought. All the while since she woke up on Coronet she was haunted by misfortune and bad decisions. Now no one would agree with her. No one would help her.

She stormed up the ramp and into the ship with no regard to Nadja's head having poked out from the cockpit. Despite the calm and consistant functioning of the door to her room, frustration eminated from her; she would have slammed the door had she been able to.

Where the frell is it? She thought to herself as she yanked clothing from the dresser and sent it across the room. A small bag of spice lay exactly where she left it, the right corner of the middle drawer. How could she forget? Tearing into the little bag she dipped her finger into sandy substance and touched her tongue. She just needed a little more...

Her eyes fluttered as she leaned back to relax her body. Dizzyness overcame her as she tripped over herself and backed into the wall, her arm knocking over a bottle of perfume she rarely wore. Slowly her back slid down the surface of the wall until she sat absentmindedly in a puddle of perfume and broken glass.

Anger engulf her face as she spoke. Rayna internal had flared into a whirlwind, spiraling into turmoil. Foil before him, the youth could only stare puzzled. Clutter sent the Knight into a chaotic storm and slowly her words muster in distress.

The smooth facade she commonly garner had faded since the night before and her Padawan could only await the return. Remnants of her fluster pasted itself on her tongue as she began a yell of the wrong words.

Me?

Jehkran sat motionless, his eyes widened at the choice of words. Every letter slightly maximized his orbs until the sparkle gems details illustrated broken glass. Shatter before her eyes, he watched as her words stumbled over the dangerous shambles dripping from his eyes.

Before the conversation could continue she allowed only one last comment, and it came to an end. The catastrophic scold indulge had decimated him...slightly. As an intellect he maintained a logical empathy. She was still human, despite his rather idolized nature. Only time had denature her status.

No longer did she shine like a diamond. Jehkran glanced over his shoulder at the twinkling star from afar. Alone she supplied only a dim light, a minuscule enlightenment. For a moment he forgot who she was to him, and in replacement to the thought was shame. Embarrassment patterned his face as his head drooped down in contemplation.

He needed to meditate, but in his silence his mind re-engineered hope. Fueled by chance and choice, he flung into a stand and dashed after. Rayna had stamped off, imprints pressed into the grass floor below. Jehkran followed...he wanted to help.

Diligence and suave manner strolled him a top the ramp as his eyes survey the interior of the ship. Nadja's head popped once more out from the cockpit, her eyes throwing him off toward where Rayna had fleed. Never before had such a situation tarnished a conversation so readily, and he hoped his logic could mend it all. There would be no certainty if he never tried, so without heed Jehkran dashed off to the target.

Slowing to a near creep, his hand pressed it open for search of the troubled Master. Awe collapsed into his eyes, his hands at a shiver as he gripped tightly to the nearest object. A blink lost it's default and the moist of his eyes nearly dried underneath the heat before him. Laying across the surface was a nimble being. Frail under the cascade of hair, and body turned to debris. Demise perfumed the air, overwhelming the shattered glass that once contained a tasteful aroma. Disdain stained the youth's brain as his adrenaline burst to fling his mind to swallow the room whole.

Finally he blink, but it was still there. She was still there.

"Wha--

What..."

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

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v7.../MScantina.jpg

Slime crumpled over the hardened husk, moist from the sweat fitted by the room's heat. A tongue slushed from the slit opening, thick and bumpy. The tendril of taste tingled as it pressed against the smooth texture of a Falleen's skin beside. Compressed back in the hold of teeth and gums, it awaited it's next arrival. The owner lay motionless a top a large sled, his body exterior of obscene detail.

An over-sized slug, eyes humane but dazzled with danger stared off into the distance ahead. Beside him stood a motionless Falleen, the saliva trickling down her body forcing it into an uncomfortable chill. The superior nature of the race denature the moment, leaving it subtle in her mind. She simply stood there, attire in scantily wear awaiting the next trivial mishap.

The crowd of beings tatter the floor before them. Dancing about in fuel of fire, the body heat continue to muster new heights as the people took to exotic maneuvers. Flesh pressed against each other, forming a tide and sea of beings. All sorts of alienoids and humanoids were confined the grounds. Moving about effortlessly as the music pounded through their ears, they were swallowed by the moment.

At the head sat the Hutt, taking another bite from his finery delivered on a dish by an impish Bith. Many servants came and went, supplying treats as the Slave Lord eyes clasp onto the surrounding events. A laughter escaped his belly in a bellow, croaking over as a Jarrell and Gamorrean carried a prying Ganathan out for a talk.

All was too fun in the life of the Lord Hutt.

The crowd had been whispering amongst themselves for the past few days about the captured Ganathan. Most of the galaxy regarded them as insignificant beings worthy of at most, a laugh. They were a minor sentient species within Hutt space, rarely did a being from Ganath leave the planet's orbit; the species had yet to develope a hyperdrive.

"[Bring him forward]" The hutt boomed as the two guards renewed their force on the Ganathan.

Xau watched from a rather large chair with mild interest. Two fingers rest against his painted face, his chin held up by the palm of his hand. The fate of the Ganathan would not effect him, but if the thing was smart it would quit resisting and comply with the blob of slug's flesh sitting on a sled.

Someone was staring.

He did not flinch as he felt the gaze of a young boy watch on. Two X-faced droids stood on either side of Xau, he would use them as his eyes. There were seven droids in total, all linked together and reporting to his Force commands. What any one of them saw, he saw. What any one of them heard, he heard. Even the pain one felt surged like fire across his nerves. Power for a price.

He was just curious, the boy was, Xau had determined. He recognized the look on a child, he often saw it on his brother when they were children. As a matter of fact, the curious boy looked much like his brother, a strange coincidence. Both of them were children long ago. The black shadowing of his ocular sockets in contrast with the white paint that covered his face often drew attention, even in the Hutt-king's palace. He returned the stare for a moment, causing the boy to look elsewhere. Again he turned back to the Ganathan who seemed to have improved his situation. Death or slavery, which would it be?

Amuse as ever, the Hutt's eyes gawked down at the foolish Galathan. Under the cascade of the Hutt Space, he was a born to descend into the ranks of a slave. To event flood the intergalatic train without a yanking chain at his neck was a direct insult to the stance of the Hutt Empire. A snarl flared up at this slit lips, his tongue sliding out as his mind was pester by the very presence of the being.

The misshaped humanoid was a figure of dismissal to the Hutts. Instinct told the artculate slave trader to act without regret, and fuel of disdain. Attack without misery and end the Galatan native's life. The hands of the slithering being crumpled over into knuckles as his large orbs surveyed the scenery once more.

A week had past since the being had been into custody, daring to invade the privacy of the party held at his kingdom. Such endeavours were indirect assaults on the poweress of his drug trafficing and slave control. He had worked hard over the numerous years to merit respect, and then some low-rate sentient intends to stampede on his parade. Happenings of that sort were necessary to be accomodate with definitive displeasure.

Over the week the Galathan's pride was entagled with the troublesome torture from his underlings. Orders trickled down into the ranks, allowing the encounter of gundark to scare him, while weapons pierced his skin in cells. All the other slaves had been encourage to beat him down in hopes of gaining more notoriety and possible allowances out of their horrid life. None of the promises were attained, but it gave the Hutt a smile at the thought.

Disrespect only bargained for more disrespect, especially in the realm of the scum. The Hutt Empire only controlled it, it did not set all the rules.

"Sasto jij sltin Galanthan, huh?" The roar of the Hutt's voice echoed over the unoffical court. Only days before the room herald numerous high figures, but today was different. Instead of the faces of doom, dismal and hierachy, there was a single figure held down by the press of two formidable underlings of the Hutt.

"Yes," the Galanthan appeased. His voice had grown weak over the days of anguish and angst, leaving his eyes far smaller than before. Weakness wore into his bones and even his manuevers and gestures commanded discomfort. All he needed was a good time to sleep to awake ready for his oncoming duties.

The Hutt smiled once more. The distaste of the slime forced about his mouth was put on full display, as the disgruntle of his thoughts was kept subsided. He still wanted to kill him, but as he had said in his foreign language, the man would be a slave. Both sides of the option were equally painful, but the Hutt had grown a favoritism to demise. It was just so fun.

A nod was all that the Hutt supplied, and he soon waved his hand off to the side. The Galanthan was carried off into a distant room to fit for his sale. Soon he would be taken in at a low bid, and worked to death. Eventually the Hutt would gain what he craved. Galanthan weren't as hard-working as Wookie. They weren't prepared for the turmoil of such a hardened lifestyle.

"Thank you, Jibuu." The Galanthan whisper as he dragged himself out from the room.

Work had been done, and the Jibuu was in need for a few snacks.

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

Oh how he loathed the slave trade. Not that he had moral objections, Jarek simply objected to the work load involved in his station. He watched with disdain as the Ganathan was dragged off, that was his future problem right there. He would see that Ganathan in three standrard days.

"Damn it..." he incoherently mumbled as his lazily gesturing arm knocked a glass off the table.

"What's a matter Jarek? Too many ales?" A richly dressed man said, taking a seat next to him.

"What do you know?" Jarek mumbled and rested his forehead on the table amidst a pool of ale.

"I know this: you still can't get over my promotion, can you? I'll tell you, the slave trade is much prettier on the female side. More money, more women, more oppertunity."

"Aw shuddup.'' He mumbled with his head still against the table. "I work hard."

"And with nothing to show for it, my man." He crossed his leg and smiled. "You still seeing that beast of a woman? I traded my old lady in and got me one of them fine little Twi'lek girls. Does whatever I say and don't know any better."

"Uhhh..." Jarek mumbled. His only time off this week was that night and he blew about two days wages in the palace bar watching the Hutt have his fun. Meanwhile, jerks like Mael next to him cruised the galaxy with young, attractive, female slaves. Partied for days on end in casinos and clubs. The female slave trade was where the money was at.

"You're busting your back for nothing, man." Mael continued. "By the way, check out this new chronometer I picked up last week." He revealed his wrist. "That's twelve genuine, Corusca gems right there. Cost me a fortune."

"Mmmuh."

"Like I said, its a shame you're still pushing them boys around the astroids. I would have thought after that incident with the Jedi-girl on Nar Shadda, finding out her next move and all, would have really set you ahead. I mean-"

Jarek leapt across the table in a flimsy attempt to hit Mael in the jaw with his loose fist. He slid off the table and started to yell and scream as the crowd turned their attention to him, Mael slowly backing off into the crowd with a grin.

"Ooo!" An overweight Rodian noised as a Gamorrean hit Jarek over the head with the blunt end of his ax. She looked over towards the Hutt, he barely seemed to notice the outburst as a disfigured Wookie was dragged in by five more Gamorreans, each with a chain attached to the beast.

A displeasure tarnished the disfigure mistaken for the Hutt's face. The features normally bulbous, slimy and round turned slanted in a contemplation. For a moment he meditated, eyes nearly close as he peered ahead toward the mangled Wookie. Blood stained his decent coat of fur. The brown, white and twinge of yellow carried a newly formed crimson that left the pattern dismal at best.

There had been numerous Wookie that had been carried in before. Jibuu had dealt in such hierarchy of slavery to identify the awkward odds of aliens, even specify their languages and decipher their wording. Nothing sled by him. Centuries of work in the slums of the galaxy had supplied his mind with a sharpness that an ace shooter could parallel.

Not a man within the room could outsmart him, especially in a dejarik game. Suffocated by the turmoil of the rooms he commonly found himself in during his stints as a Lord, meeting with numerous other of the Hutt Empire delivered all the necessary training to survive in such a thriving business. People were simply saw as puppets, and credits always came first.

A frown pressed his slit lips into a burrow downward, dismantling his slender cheeks as his belly roared from a shudder movement. The Hutt's belly crinkled as it rumbled with disdain. He was hungry.

"Sdadtga jiin urans, Hern." The Hutt's hand swung in a lazed gesture, watching as the Falleen beside him trickled off into the small crowds toward the nearby door. Another command had been sent her way, and despite her rather established upbringing she had to fall to his will. She had been taken in as a slave as many other--against her will.

Falleen were a prestigious race. A carving of superior intellect, diligence and talented attributes, they were fitted for the social crowds that riddled the galaxy in the masses. Engraved in the forms of their own planet, a sparse few departed for adventures throughout the stars to grow as beings. Such explorations were regarded as voyages that would eventually lead them back home. Instead, she was a slave. Her life would be submitted to the tide of troubles and commands by a lowlife.

It was a bit too much for her to swallow, so instead of dwell on such depressing thoughts she engulf her mind with the daily routines.

Treading through the darkened halls, her eyes moist and pupils dilated as she spear-headed the oncoming door. Pushing it open with swift haste, she sped down the next hall to the right toward the cells. Jibuu had requested his highest slave in the lower workings to begin their task of food carrying.

---------

Naemi eyes were enthralled in the moment, but her mind was engross in times past. Much had changed since her happiness. Joy once entangled her life, vines wrapping about her very being with an electricity no repulsor lift could generate. Every moment caress a desire, detail with extremes. Purposeful maneuvers aimed for further advances in the smile. Nothing carried the angst and the disapproval that the daily routine merit. Slavery was not the place for a Zeltron.

Blind darkness flush over the chilling cell. Although she rested in her nest with desolates and ghastly specs, she had become accustom to the case. Life had finely dished her with finery of the worst kind, and it was more than she could swallow. Rarely did she open her mouth for intake. Curl of her lips kept her in embarrassed, shame splashed over her divine looks.

Naemi was a grace of Zeltron allure. Despite the despise that rattle her into a shudder at a daily, she still embody the beauty. The curvaceous slide that wrapped her being kept eyes at a twinkle at a glance, and face justified with heavenly guise. Cascaded in utter delicacy, she was a perfect display for the eye. Certain eye candy.

In the slither of cold, her body shook with coming fervor before the heat of the Falleen slave scolded her ears.

"Come, lets go."

Time for work.

---------

Disregard coil the Hutt's face as he spared the Wookie his eye. For moments on end he surveyed him alike an object. No longer did beings stand as simply...beings anymore. They were objects of credits. Their worth lay in their bank. This Wookie had nothing to his name beside his strong arms.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v7...ogie/Jabba.jpg

Only for a moment did he deliver a glance away, gathering crispic and hubba gourd for a stuffed chomp. After a quick swallow, he grabbed up more before he dropped his solution.

"Jighill giin."

The Wookie would die.

"Whoooo!" A Jiivahar next to the bounty hunter Cabal noised as the Wookie was sentenced it's fate. Obnoxious aliens. As little as Cabal had to do with the Empire, much of their ideology ran through him; aliens were inferior to humans. Regardless, some aliens like Jibuu had a number of credits to their name and hence his current employment.

Jibuu employed a system of competition to secure his will within his empire. Nearly every Hutt of any importance kept one bountry hunter in exclusive contract, Jibuu preferred to have two. His rival was the eight-for-the-price-of-one bounty hunter Xau Ghin; he was sitting towards the back, barely watching. They both recieved the same commissions, the first to complete got the credits. Competition encouraged efficency.

The Wookie raged and roared as the Gamorreans hauled him off to the side. The notorius Jabba the Hutt of Tatooine was infamous for his drop out floor and the Rancor that occupied the room beneath. Jibuu was one of a more sadistic nature. The Brazen Bull was the Hutt's favorite method of execution and a crowd favorite. Cabal looked over to the bronze Bull as the the Gamorreans set about their work in preparing it.

The Brazen Bull was the product of an extremely inventive human-alien hybrid known amongst regulars at the palace for his frantic and quirky behaivor. To Cabal, the Bull was marvelous in its method of making an execution most angonizing for its victim and so spectacular for onlookers. The victim was forced inside the bull and a fire set beneath it. The howls and cries of the victim were channeled through a system of pipes and drums to mimic the sounds of an infuriated bull. The smoke from the cooked body was sent through a different set of pipes and tainted to produce an incense unique to the palace. While an astonishing piece of equipment, it also disgusted Cabal. Only a being with alien genes could invent such a thing.

His thoughts were set aside and his attention diverted as the Fallen woman entered the room, behind her a few aliens and a certain human girl that had caught his attention since he began his stay at the palace. They all carried large bowls of food for the bulbous Jibuu, who was eagerly awaiting more to stuff his rotund figure with. The girls name was Anbira'nar, she was gorgeous with dark skin and emerald eyes that transfixed him. He wished he could be with her more often, but once the relationship grew more serious between the two, she revealed to him her slave markings; no slave of Jibuu would love anyone but its master. Since then he had been striving to find a way around the rules, nothing had presented itself.

He flashed a small smile her way, but she barely returned it and looked away, focusing on her task at hand. As the incense filled the room, no slave of Jibuu needed a reminder of what fate awaited those who broke the rules. He turned his vision away from both the Hutt and the servant slaves, it was best not to let the situation between him and Anbira'nar to fester within his mind.

What's this?

He focused on the image of a rather figity Gotal. He arrived at the palace as an honored guest of Jibuu not more than a month ago. Cabal never occupied his time with finding out what exactly put the Gotal in the good graces of the Hutt, it wasn't in his job description, but now he was suspicious.

He stood up and walked to the rear wall of the room. While walking along it he kept his eye on the Gotal, still figity and still suspicious. At last he crossed the room to the giant chair his rival sat in.

"Notice anything out of place today, Xau?" He asked casually.

The droid with snake-like tendrils drapped over its neck and shoulders turned to him. ''What, have you hidden a ring in Anbira'nar's cupcake?" It said to him as Xau Ghin actual failed to give him any notice.

"Come on Xau." He protested forcefully. "I'm serious. I hate it when you talk to me through these things, its annoying."

"What do you want, Cabal?" He said, careening his head towards the rival.

"I asked you a question, droidophile. You gonna to answer?"

"No, nothing is out of place." The painted bounty hunter returned to his former position.

"How about hornhead there?" Cabal said with a nod towards the back of the Gotal.

"He's a little figity for comfort, do you think he's up to something? Did you see something?" Xau's voice rose in slight excitment as if he was beginning to suspect what Cabal had. "Did you see the astromech next to him?"

Cabal looked next to the Gotal, the astromech was obstructed from his view on the other side of the room. The horns on the Gotal lead all of them to be overly receptive to electromagnetic interference. It was nearly torture for one to be so close to a droid.

"Pudu." Cabal spat.

Xau laughed a little. "If there was anything wrong one of my droids would have picked it up easy. Now go away Cabal."

The seemingly lesser of the two bounty hunters turned away from Xau and began the walk along the walls to his previous station all the while he kept an eye on the Gotal and the astromech, something told him this wasn't right.

Notes:
The Brazen Bull was a torturous execution device created by the Greeks. More info here

The band Mushroomhead is what I'm basing the bounty hunter Xau Ghin on, the middle man I've described as Dark-Eyes and his face is attributed to Xau Ghin, the rest in the pic are droids in the story.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v3...d20band203.jpg

Despair festered in the air as the Hutt pasted himself to the seat, and hand upon the numerous platters set about him. A path of servants tread his way, but his eyes trailed off elsewhere. The focus of the moment was on the entanglement of the Wookie's end in a nearby chamber, but he cared about more important subjects. Amidst the profusion of the room's chatter sat his business acquaintance. An uneasiness rested in him, his wrinkled features becoming all the more distorted underneath his fidgety nature.

The horns, profound throughout the Gotal species, were disillusioned by the gray of his facial hair. A red fizzled over his eyes, but his shaping was far from threatening. He seemed like a wholesome fellow from afar, and albeit uncomfortable a thoughtful being. It was displayed in his demeanor, which was nearly overwhelmed by his lost of composure.

Gotal were a divine race of beings, and even the Hutt kept a careful eye on their happenings. Their grasp of mood and life about them was wide, and deprived many to hide their mind state.

Especially the hardened criminals that splashed over the scenery within Jibuu's halls. Somehow it did not disturb him, but Jibuu did specify that his puppets keep an eye on him. There was no room for trust amidst such a horrendous business. Trade of slavery and fluency in the language of crime delved in troubles that could not be coated with sociable nature. Albeit people could smile, be nice, handle things with care, but at the end they were lords of crime.

Room for love had been swept away too long ago.

A yawn bellow from his depths, and the Jibuu's eyes swung over into a near slumber. Despite the restlessness of his company, his mind had fell to a bore. There was no need to observe the Wookie's slay, he had seen many before.

Although at times it was amusing, his mind was a wreck from the day of devious decision making. Earlier there had been a large batch to be departed off into the wings of a heavy trade route. The cartel could easily be undone by a piracy without gaining notoriety for the mission throughout the undertone of the community. People did not respect what they did not know to, especially when crime was the worst of the intergalactic trades.

"Yahgan tu Gotal, uhm."

A swing of the hand, and his servants were off. He had all the food he required for the night, and more. Now was the time to relax and simply watch his pleasantries showcase themselves.

---------

The Gotal's eyes shifted. Abstract ruthlessness wrinkled his mind into a crinkle, his sensories alert at the alarm of death. Burns roared over in the air as the coil of anguish left a quiver down the furred critter's spine. Beside him sat a motionless astromech. The droid had been acquired with tedious bargains long ago, and he had latched onto it's assistance in many facets of his business.

Recently the word of defense against the servitude of Jibuu's Empire had grown. He had been requested for his regard in a number of managements. In all corners of the galaxy he had sprouted up cargo through the work of all kind. Ammo, blasters, speeders and other illicit manufactured goods merit him the watchful eye of crimelords. People employed him with the grace of order in times of disorder. Discord would not erupt or dismantle another Empire amidst the Hutt again. Never would a Jabba situation flush over.

Jibuu had prepared himself for such coming. Since the ordeal with the Jedi female there had been no assail against the refueled Empire. No one dare take a stand against Jibuu's formidable stance. A threshold without vice clasped over the darkened corridors of space, and Jibuu awaited his chance to revive what was once the greatest Empire beyond the Emperor's government. The Hutt had slowly fallen under the creed of the Black Sun, and with the vy for power amidst their ranks the hierarchy of Crime lords could only juggle the possibilities.

An inhale kept the Gotal at ease as his eyes shifted over. He watched with effortless scrutiny, observant to all hesitation amidst the large crowds. They had maneuver over to watch from their respected seats and windows at the chamber of death where the Wookie let out cries of angst. Pain coated over him more than his fur as the flames cooked him alive.

"What a day..."

---------

"Onus, das, jres..."

Delicate fur, stripped smoothly over with coats of black and orange pressed over into a dexterous spin. Spines assorted for acrobatic motion and maneuvers, as the display of species absurd and abstract attributes fuel on. Exotic steps splashed over as the claws of the beings lifted to the sky and clapped together. Clasped in a hold for a moment, the steps proceeded without further heed. Practiced flash and flare splashed through in perfected unison.

The Trianii species was a divine outsider. Their adventurous culture sent them abroad, but minds instilled in the indepedent ways. Never before had they been washed over with the propaganda of the Empire, or dislodged from their upbringings. A race of truth and serenity. Spread and smear over the galaxy with sheer effortless. In the felinoid voids of the eye a painted picture rested in unfinished illustration of incredible tales.

At the head of the operation moved a beauty. Oblique sharpness of her eyes slanted down, burrowed ever so slightly behind the tender brush of her orange coating. Black strips scribed underneath the lavish green in her eye. Lush with intrigue, curiosity and adventure, she maneuver gracefully. Step after step was done without effort. She was a true dancer.

The Hutt watched with a slight smirk as he stuffed a Nala tree frog in his mouth. Jibuu was pleased.

All eyes turned to the Trianii as she danced to the music of the band, a long time favorite of Jibuu's palace. The Gotal surveyed the scene, nearly everyone was distracted now. It was the moment he was waiting for.

It was as if his heart were attracted by some force of nature to the printed picture of his beloved which he carried in his breast pocket of the shirt he wore under his jacket. He loved her. He missed her dearly. Months ago she was taken from him by pirates, he learned she'd been sold as a slave through Jibuu's network but by the time he found her, she was nearly dead.

"She's too ugly for the late night streets. Nothing but manual labor for a slave like her. The voice of a gruff police officer said to him.

She died, with his unborn son, days later.

To blame Jibuu would be too much. Revenge on that scale was unattainable. To blame the man who made the purchase, who forced her into the slave labor life, who was responsible for the atrocities she whispered into the Gotal's ear with her dying breath... revenge was neccessary.

----

"Jame es Heer!" Cabal called to a scowling white twi'lek male past the Trianii and over the way of Jibuu. "Get your pastey butt over here."

The scowl on the face of the twi'lek deepened. "Frack it, Cabal, I'm busy. What do you want?"

"Saw you talking to Jibuu over there, is there a job coming up? I've got a favor to ask.''

"There's always a job coming up." The twi'lek said. "It's just a short one, not much though."

"You think Xau proper is gonna bite?"

"Doubtful, he'll send two droids at most. You might have a chance." The twi'lek looked inpatiently at the door. "What's your favor? I've gotta split."

"You know Phuket, that slimy Nemodian?"

"Handles the bounties." The Twi'lek confirmed.

"If I complete this bounty, I want that cutie Anbira'nar thrown in for good measure." Cabal leaned back in his seat, giving the twi'lek a sturdy look.

The Twi'lek chuckled. "You've really got a thing for this one, huh? What makes you think this one is gonna work out any better than any of the previous girls?''

"I've got a good feeling." Cabal concluded as he shifted his eyes towards the Gotal that had been bothering him.

----

"I tell you boys, that girl can dance." Mael said as he leaned back in the seat and let his eyes suck the image in. "If I owned her... Ooo, boy."

The trianii must have heard him talking as she granted him a sultry glance. The best of dancers were owned by no one. They spent their early lives in dance school, they were more skilled and capable than any slave and their prices ran high. Jibuu wasn't exactly notorius for throwing money out on expensive dancers, maybe once every few months he'd splurg on something better than slave quality. The Trianii was growing in popularity within Hutt circles, to not book her before she became too big was foolish.

She turned her head away from Mael and danced towards another. "I'm not used to being said no to, boys." Mael said to the group of three lackeys at the table.

"Boss, don't you think you should just relax." A Murachaun said. "I mean, after that ordeal on Nar Shadda..." He didn't continue to mention the details of what ended in murder. "She;s a bit more popular, I think it'd be best to..."

Mael wasn't even listening, he was entranced and waiting for the Trianii to turn her attention back to him. Come on, I know what you're really like. He thought to himself and he watched with evil intent. I wheel and deal girls just like you everyday, I know what you like.

"Excuse me sir." A naselly voice said and paused.

Mael turned with a sneer only to have his face contort to fear as he stared down the most peculiar blaster he'd ever seen.

The Gotal had spent much time developing the blaster he held at the head of the slave trader. It contained a chemical shot, undetectable to most droids, that would kill its victim over several days.

"Drop the gun, hornhead.'' Cabal said as he pushed the twi'lek out of the way and raised his blaster. "And don't even move Xau, this one is mine all mine."

"Hmm..."

Jibuu's strong voice crinkled under the muse of his being while his eyes tamper with the disarray to the side. Most of the crowd was quite preoccupied with the tendrils of exotic nature squeezed out by the Trianii trance. The Hutt had seen it all before, and thought tantalizing, he was still quite profound being. Beside the slime that coated his frame, and exquisite aroma perfumed over his body in a coated stench he was an intellect.

Observation was just another trophy he herald in the self of properties. Scrutinizing the scenery had always gave him a chance to intervene and prosper. If only it better him did he interject, and it seemed the situation at hand was another problem of his he would soon have to solve.

The blasters had been pulled, and his guest held his own. Albeit unique, it did not entangle the sharp view of the Palace owner. Instead, he was more puzzled over the happenings itself. Why would a simple business owner throw his hand into the scum and villain that scoured the room at all.

Mael stood motionless amidst the confusion. All was far too absurd for him to swallow whole. A stride forth and he would have been in the mix of dance, but instead he was shifted to a halt by a steady blaster. It was all too weird for him do anything stupid.

-----------

The Trianii pranced about, showcasing her ultimate dexterity. A smirk fester on her face as she glanced once more over at Mael, dazzled by the disturbing events that had occurred. Independence perfumed her being, held in the accord of her possessive aura. Attraction and allure set seeds for deception. She had her hand in the troubles stirring tonight.

Once before Mael had attempted to throw his hand in the litter of Trianii. Such an indepedent grouping clasped tightly on their culture, and clans. The dancer was just another face admix the fixture of feline. However, her family came first and so she set her stance for revenge. Although her sister had died in her rebuttal to the formidable man, she would not.

All she could offer was a glance, a few deceptive maneuvers and the Gotal would gain his chance to throw a blaster in the man's face. Death would be in that man's bed tonight, not the Trianii.

-----------

The Falleen was not amused. Beside her stood a disgusting figure, and affront were foolish buffoons. Dancing about, showcasing their body for useless cause of credits. All of it was below her, but not her status. She was simply a slave. Many about her were slave.

In one respect or another, the room was a complex of enslaved beings. Everyone around her was under the strings of the almighty ventriloquist. Credits controlled their everyday routines, rituals. The alpha and omega of their realm was the change in their pockets and signs in their bank. Simpleton and scum. Controlled by such a foolish symbol of power.

All in a day it could mean nothing. The prowess wield by a credit could be changed in the shift of currency and economy. It was the power behind credits that kept her caged to the side of the slimy Hutt.

How she hated credits.

-----------

Hornhead?

The Gotal's eyes grew tense. In credit to the demise of his beloved woman, he could not heed. He could not fault, he could only proceed. A month had designated him a chance underneath the guide of the Hutt and assistance of other to supply the man an end. Disgruntle behavior would not deal the man his worthy end, only calculated maneuvers.

A fire flare in the crimson of his orbs. Shimmer of the lit room glanced at the pair, revealing the thwarted gleam. Exposure of utter darkness capture the Gotal's once vividly exuberance soul. Times of aspiration had dismantle and thrown from their throne within, replaced by the grace of vengeance. Revenge could fuel the flame of any man, and grip the ankles to drag any being into the dim.

Although the Gotal saw Mael, he did not decipher the flesh, eye, and soul as nothing more than commodoties to a devil. The mirror told Gotal he was a hero. He would kill, and play victor to a scum. Yet in his venture he had intertwine his status with the inter-workings of the very element that swallowed his love and unborn child.

He was the scum.

The realization captured the mind, but it was too late. Already the hatred channel through his spine to his hand, and he pulled.

Mael would definately have death to accompany him to bed tonight.

In an instant Mael found his face burning from the blow dealt by the Gotal's blaster; the shot was a chemical, an extremely volatile acid. The instant following, the Gotal collapsed the crimson bolt from Cabal's blaster collided with his horned head. The room had died to silence, the band had stopped playing, the Trianii had cut short her dance. Cabal stared at the scene ahead, Mael was writhing on the floor and if he had a voice to scream with the room would be filled with his agony.

"Ho ho ho ho." Jibuu chuckled then erupted into a full belly laugh.

Shock and gossip began as whispers through the crowd until they grew to a feny of conversation. The band resumed its song and the Trianii gave one last glance at the fallen Gotal before she picked up where she left off.

Cabal walked to the alien corpse and the futilely struggling Mael pushing various onlookers out of the way. He leveled his blaster at Mael and fired, ending the incident completely.

"I figured you'd be over here, security." He said to Xau and the droids as he bent down to pick up the Gotal's weapon. "Isn't up to anything my rear..."

Xau said nothing for a moment, taking what he could through the droid's eyes regarding the details of the blaster. "It's a chemical based weapon, the Gotal must have designed it himself."

"Well no kidding, detective." Cabal said. "These damn aliens can't just operate like the rest of us do. They gotta complicate things with this kind of crap." He shook the blaster. "So no wonder your Bab-Prime buddies didn't pick up on it."

Cabal stood up and looked Xau proper in the eye. "Here's some advice: technology ain't ever gonna replace good ole instinct. I suggest you learn before someone important gets hurt and you loose your head."

Xau failed to follow Cabal as he walked past him and out of sight. Cabal was right on this one, there was no denying that. But that wasn't what was nagging him. Since Rayna had taken up her crusade against this particular slave ring the whole world, down to the core within Jibuu's palace, had become more dangerous. As he studied the deceased Gotal body, instinct told him this incident rooted deeper than he knew.

He eyes snapped open and for a moment she believed everything was alright. Like a fly in a spider's web she quickly realized how wrong everything was. Her eyes darted from the broken perfume bottle to the bed she had crept onto somewhere in the past six hours or so. Finally she sat up.

She didn't want to go through that door and face everything that had been amassing over the past few days. The one truely good thing in her life, her apprentice Jehkran, had already begun to fall apart. It seemed like everything she touched before the Sith ordeal turned to gold, now she had the touch of dirt.

She ignored the fear of going outside and walked through her formerly locked door. She stood for a moment in the door way, her face was shadowed and her eyes red; she looked like hell. In her immediate view Nadja was sitting in a chair, trinkering with a piece of machinery.

Rayna asked softly, "Where's Jehkran?"

There was no room to deny. When a combatant relied on his senses to capture all, and instinct to perfect every pulse, a man could not doubt his own feelings. However, he could distort the specs which saw them. Under the commonly cool, smooth demeanor that claimed Jehkran reside a minimized ill. Sickness of his Master stir the stew to an overflow.

An exhale damp the air as his clenched mouth open. Anguish cascade his eye, leaving a trickle of fear to slide down the side of his cheeks. Fixed to the irate addiction, he refueled as he barrage the invisible enemy. The trickle of his divine partner dazzled from the command of his hand. Flung to the heavens, it clasped onto his lightsaber at his waist.

Thrown to Jehkran's palm he swung himself forward. The thrust was intent, paired with absolute ire. Bristle visage illustrated his enlighten orbs into cowards under the pressure his temper. Madden flare splashed through his very being, pumping into his veins as the sizzle of his weapon sparked into the sounds of nature.

Denature thought left his motions impulse. The pulsate of his heart shook into a reach of new heights, deploying a smooth artistry forward. Suave clashed with brute as his arm flashed downward, baring the barrage of green onto the earthly tendril before him. The bronze mixed brown tarnished under the turmoil that coil the bark. Life unleashed itself in a crackling call to decimation, and the tree fell.

An animal's growl mused out the heave which lifted his chest up and down. He killed nature, and became one with it. Jehkran had turned to a demonic.

"Outside, Rayna." Nadja said without looking at her.

Her Force sense was a bit diminished now, and aftershock from the spice, but it usually returned within the hour she woke up. Regardless, she could feel him now outside. His emotion overwhelmed her the moment she found him in the Force. He was a whirlwind of confusion and torment, it was a side of him she had hoped to never see.

"Damn it..." She whispered as she burst into a near sprint, headed for the door.

"What did you say to him?" Nadja casually asked, knowing full well Rayna would hear her.

"Nothing, it's just... it's complicated." Rayna struggled to answer.

"You know..." Nadja chose her words carefully, still not granting Rayna a full look in the eye. ''If you keep this up, you're going to make things worse."

That could mean a lot of things, Rayna supposed that was the point. She said nothing and continued to exit the ship in search of Jehkran. He wasn't in the immediate area, everything around the ship seemed relatively calm. He must have ventured out farther through the dense woods. She urgently searched for his location through the Force. He wasn't more than a quarter klick away.

The Force returned to her body and filled her with its speed. Hastily she pushed branches and limps from her path running barefoot through the dense foliage towards the growing Force signature tearing through the woods.

"Jehkran stop." She said as she stopped before the path of destruction and its creator. She smelt of an abundance of perfume overwhelmed by sweat, clothed only in a loose white gown. The jungle had twisted and tangled her hair to a mess, twigs had torn her skin and she hardly noticed. Her feet were bloody yet she stood, albiet shaky, in a plea.

She whispered, "Please."

Voices.

A tendril of familiarity tickled at his heart, but he turned with sharpness. About him washed a violate nature that enhanced his maneuvers, eyes and thought. Even as the vision came to, he could not resist his ears from catching on far too early. Despite the rather sharp glare he gave, his eyes were late in the retrieval of the evidence. The murderer was Rayna.

She lay there only moments ago, body in a spell of self-torture. On the floor beside her was a broken glass and the floor was overtaken by a whirlwind. Number of arrangements had trickled to the surface in her rush of addiction. Day in day out he felt her weakened soul, but ignored. Ignorance was bliss in this instant. Always the young Padawan wondered, concerned about the absolute purpose behind the falter. At times she even avoided practice for slight moments as if in need to regenerate.

The knowledge he gained in a simple glance in a room merit a hopelessness that he had only been taken with once before. All the memories of demise arose in his depths, and dissent began. Falling into the abyss of his heavy heart, he felt the pressures of yesterday and the future capture him in a cage he could not escape. Anguish ran rampant over his soul, fueling his desires for utter destructions. Worlds deserved to perish. Everyone should feel the wraith that sent a barrage onto his very being.

No scars ran on his face, but there was no scabs for the wounds he held. Hope had vanished from his youthful eyes, and more than a plead would be necessary to pull them back.

"You..."

The sly, suave voice he carried had diminished. Under the threshold of darkness, a gloom fizzled into a mixture of agony and contorted anger. An aura emit about him, filled with his emotions. Even the world about him stray in the array of feelings. For a moment he was lost in the vision of Rayna. She had become a symbol of his hatred, an object to be destroyed. Decimation spread from her, and no longer could he safely trust her.

Not anymore...

Still the air captured the sizzle. Crinkling spurs flared through sound. The lightsaber was still activated.

"Why? Why spice?"

He finally asked, his tongue possessed by confusion and disturbance. Somewhere inside he wanted to retain the stirred heat, but he craved guidance. Isolation in such an operation would leave him nowhere but deeper in his fault.

How could he know? She didn't know that he knew anything for sure. Before her were two roads, the first was a path that began with a lie, the other was a rocky road. Both met at the same place, each had a different journey. Since she told him anything about her past, it was as if someone had pushed over the first of dominos in a long and interwoven line. Explaining something like her mission against the Sith had lead to her status with spice addiction in less than a day. This chain reaction had to be stopped, even if it meant a lie.

"Glitterstim and spice are not the same thing." She answered calmly. "There are more forms of spice than you can count, Ryll is one of them, it's in everyday medicines." She paused for a moment to give him more time to calm down as he stood on the recieving end of soothing waves through the Force eminating from her.

"Glitteryll is not glitterstim, glitteryll is a powerful medicine for memory problems." It was obvious where this was going. "Since the memories of life before the Sith started coming back, I've had issues with conflicting personalities. It keeps me sane."

She hated this, but she feared the truth and she feared more what he would think if he knew the truth. Once she ended the spice use, she would tell him; when she could be proud that she escaped its grasp herself. It was only right that he learn the whole story, but to pour it out all at once, evidenced by the destruction around them, was far to dangerous. She would expose it in doses.

"I am not denying that I have an issue with the medicine, I have an addiction to it. I was never diagonosed by a doctor, even patient confidentiality could not keep me from the inquisition. To reveal my mental status, would reveal that I am a Jedi. In the face of either a mental institution or a death camp in the Maw, I diagnosed myself and obtained the drugs without prescription." She paused for a moment. "Without proper instructions, I became addicted."

"I'm sorry I kept it from you. You have a right to know and now you do. It's a very personal battle for me, I'm dealing with it in my own way. In the midst of this business with Jibuu, facing down addiction is increasingly difficult. Once I feel this slave ring is taken care of, I'm going to go to the Corperate Sector and get it properly taken care of." She took his hands in hers as she made a committment she had convinced herself to believe. What started as a lie had transformed into a resolution she made with herself.

''I promise."

Emotion.

The fester of their tendrils sampled Jehkran's soul. A tamper scuffled at his chest as he took an inhale, his ears taking in the words. Anguish illustrated itself behind his eyes, meanwhile his other senses maintained an attune nature. Wind whistled past, catching his hearing for a slight moment before the conversation aside captivated his ears once more. The speech was carried with cadence and effort. Support of fear, loneliness dribbled underneath her direct tone, but Jehkran purposely disregarded it.

In his eyes she had become a vessel of lies.

Even as she ran through the details of his addiction, he could no longer concoct her as nothing more than a machine of peril. Human and flesh she was once more, and no longer an idol or figure to look upon for condolence or guidance. Once before he had placed Rayna upon a pedestal of Knighthood and absolutes. In his delightful paradigm she was set as a Jedi of old, wise and understanding. Despite the sparse disagreements on certain courses and options she always delved into a herd with utter sense. Never did her step falter into a stutter where he could disable her, and place her into a box. She intertwined such grand abilities, still unreachable, and he could only watch.

Jehkran once looked upon her this way...

Once...

Not anymore...

"Promise?"

The whisper was distorted into the breeze as the breach between the two sustained. There was no area for her to hear the lull of his voice as it nearly croaked under the pressure of the demise within. Trust had faded from his depths, his conscious, his logic and in return was the purchase of disdain. Although his crystallized orbs sat in his head without emotion, behind settled an agony only birthed from a tear.

A ripple effect crinkled into his ear as he listened to the perils of the many vulgar words spitting about in the confines of his head. He could only review the scene with obscenity and pain.

Rayna had hurt him...

Bad...

Not a word displayed the affects. Instead he treaded forth, past her, toward the ship where he once ejected. The memory of his run, and the blur of colors still wrestled with his mind. Instilled in his vision, he saw the moment as if it happened presently. The ache of the realization captivated his mind, but not his tongue.

Finally he used his word.

"Lets go."

And he kept on, treading toward the ship.

Jehkran lead the couple into the ship, Rayna chose to stay behind and enter in disassociation with him, as clearly he preferred. Unlike the usual catching Nadja off guard and in the middle of some ship upkeeping task, she sat as in wait. It seemed as if she knew what happened.

As Jehkran and Rayna attempted to part the group gathering before it had even formed, Nadja called to them both. "If we are to attack Jibuu anytime soon, our window of oppertunity is closing."

Rayna merely glared at her with a puzzled look. Granted there was always a time when an attack was more likely to be effective than others, Nadja's voice seemed to imply something had changed.

Rayna enquiried, "What do you mean? Has something happened?"

Nadja confirmed, "It's all over the smugglers communication routes, even some newsfeeds. Apparently a Gotal," She paused for the most brief of seconds. "Tried to conduct some sort of suicide attack. Unsuccessful though. Security is being stepped up, some say Jibuu is becoming paranoid even."

Rayna was at a loss for words. Suicide attack? "What happened to the Gotal?" She dared to ask.

"Alive, I think. He's slated for death but no one is apparently privy to know when or where." Nadja looked towards the silent and brooding Jehkran then back at Rayna. "I'd recommend we move while there's some element of fear in his court. Fear is blinding."

The whole of the conversation between Jehkran and herself came to mind, their strong relationship was nearly at its breaking point. Deep down she feared he might walk out and away from her. At this moment it was painfully clear to her that she needed him. The past day, twisted and viewed through a different lense, stood testament to the fact that for all the pain it had caused her he was a force of good driving through her.

"Jehkran will decide our next move." Her olive branch had been extended at the risk of loosing all her objectives she had strived for since her realization. For all the training over the past months she had given him, he'd graduated to a new level of teaching her. "Your training is complete. If you'll have it, I'd like it if you stayed."

The body maintained an ignorance, but the face was engulf in response. Jehkran's slender eyes rattled into large orbs of focus, the diamonds within glistening in all their silver and blue beauty. He gazed off into the distance, looking past Rayna as her words began sinking into his depths. Rummaging through his pores, he processed the sentences into his heart for consumption.

It was a tasty meal.

Pride rumbled from his sole, slinging to his head, as he awaited a calm to run by. Silence took the world, but it was only for a moment. Jehkran was still apparent of the ship he stood upon, yet he did not care. Extollment was a gracious behavior, especially on his supposed Master's part. Rarely did she switch her demeanor to deplete her defense. The facade he commonly say faulted, withering away as the cool air condition sparked on.

The door had closed behind them at their entrance, but still the balancing chill of the outside clamor at the creases. All the remnants of the conversation beyond the ship had melted away from his mind, and all was left was a burning bush raging within. Jehkran was prepared to take the lead, and his face finally returned to it's calm. An earnest tone clasped his throat as he spoke. There would be no room for mistake.

"We will sabotage. The only rational entrance would be through disguise, so we may become closer to the Hutt.

I guard, I suggest. Their rank is already as one of the trusted figures of the Hutt. Anything else could easily be suspected as a foe, even his own Bounty Hunters. No one, if this Gotal ruined a party, is to be trusted if not directly underneath the Hutt's slimy thumbs.

Can you get that done Nadja? Can ya find a point where we can safely enter in the complexes structure without a direct disturbance to anyone beside the guards?"

"I, uh-" She was reeling for the surprise of Rayna's relinquishment. "I mean, yeah. We don't know enough about the palace quite yet, but with some discreet searching around I can come up with something within a day."

Rayna listened as the two organized the plan. Jehkran mentioned disguises, she hoped he wouldn't as about Force illusions. She was horrible at them for start, how she could teach him within the alloted time was beyond her.

She said, "We're going to need material disguises; I'm hardly a master of illusions. Supplement disguises I can manage though. I hope you know a good costume shop."

She silently thanked the Force, she couldn't dare to attack Jibuu alone and live. Though she was confident he was ready, she couldn't help but second guess herself. What if he wasn't? Regardless of all the recent tribulations, they were going to make the move she was striving for since her realization. Yet what seemed like a victory was cloudy. There was one thing that she had yet to tell Jehkran, he would find out when she was ready.

A calm swept over Jehkran as his demeanor seem to refine under the pressure. Not even a punch would destroy his chilled composure. An instilled feel of faith rolled into the depths of his heart, and the percussion of the future roared over his eardrums as Rayna spoke. The hands normally tinkering with his lightsaber or tools of the Force were delayed activity, and holster in his pockets. A smirk trickled over his lips as he glanced over at the inquirer. Query flung over Rayna's eyes, and Jehkran could nothing but regard it with confidence.

"I am sure that the guards we encounter will give us the garbs we need."

Amidst the words nestled an absolute suave, savvy and cunning nature dismissed previously. The new status as equal had propelled him in his own, in his rightful place. He felt comfortable looking in Rayna's eyes aswell...nothing seemed out of sorts about the situation at all. The only problem arose from the abscence of change. Silence consumed the room for a moment as Jehkran pondered only a second.

They hadn't taken off yet.

"Lets get this show on the road Nadja. Ya' know were not gettin' any younger, and Jibuu just gettin' uglier."

---
Focus She had to focus. Her mind was a freeway of thought, possibilites and worries passing each other through her brain. There were two guards ahead of her and that was the task at hand. From her hiding place they could see only night and she could see them illuminated in the watch lights of the palace. She waited for the moment to strike, her mind bobbing back and forth from future possibilities to the task at hand.

Just a little longer. In her hand she clutched her lightsaber hilt, the other was firmly pressed against her belly searching for one of a few battle wounds that adorned her body. She was nervous, but she believed it was only anticipation manifesting itself. She wanted to charge in the palace of sin before her. She wanted to burn it to the ground. Jehkran, however, was in charge now; reprisal as she saw as fit would eventuate in due time.

Between the bright light and heavy darkness the guards looked like stocky battle droids. They appeared to be covered completely armor but she had faith the guards appearance was at least partially fallacious. Looking tough was easier, and cheaper, than being tough. She measured the length of dirt between her and the two guards meeting at the door. Force aided speed could get her there quick enough to achieve surprise. She was sure she could mute her swift footsteps as well. All according to pla, all it needed was Jehkran to initiate the sequence.

Come on, Jehk. She prodded telpathically, almost playfully. "Let's go!"

Silence blanketed the night, and the beauty of the day eroded. The only symbol of light shimmer iridescently as four eyes peered from the distance at the guards. Since the arrival there was only a faint amount of plausible hope to clasp onto, but the young Jedi Jehkran Dmath had gripped it ever so tightly. Faith rode him through the ways of the Force, carrying the two Padawan before the very gates to freedom for many.

A smile tatter the youth's face as he sat in solitude, but far from cloister from the world. All the subjects dangled in his senses as his being opened to the smooth wave of the Force. Everything existed within his eyes and even as he blinked, knowledge overwhelmed him as he prepared for his next step. Preparation sent tendrils through his spine, throwing him into a speedy dash from the dim.

Step after step came like an enraged animal, yet the task was done without guile or rage. Before the shine of the light hit Jehkran's face he was above, and beyond, his feet coming down for the land between the confused guards.

The signal had been set, and accentuated with the buzz of his lightsabers. Soon enough the shackles to the slaves would fall, as would the guards who supported the vile life.

The body encapsulating shawl the guards wore lifted from the fallen body and wrapped itself around Rayna's shoulders. Time was a commodity, they only had moments to disguise themselves and dispose of the fallen guards. She flicked her wrist as the newly exposed body of the former guard sailed towards the distant rocks where she once hid. Between her hands she held tightly the copper colored helmet, its faceplate of blackened transparisteel. To think, she thought as she silently slid it over her head, she had suffocated a man whose head was surrounded by this helmet only a minute ago.

She looked to Jehkran, his figure enhanced by the technology in the helmet. He had opted for a less brutal approach in disabling his guard. Holding the staff that came with the outfit close to her she nodded towards the east. The replacement guards should be arriving soon, then they would enter the palace unabated. She could nearly taste vengence on her tongue, justice would be carried out at the tip of her lightsaber.

A pain shot through her arm, she was clenching the staff so tightly it felt as if she'd strained a muscle in her forarm. With a long exasperating sigh that echoed through her helmet, she realized rage was growing through her. She could keep it under control, she told herself. She could do this without the darkside, unlike before.

Her hand left the staff and touched against the shawl, she had brought two lightsabers. One was Rayna's, the other belonged to Sarin. She stared at Jehkran through the transparisteel, another secret that she had never told him. Though she had alluded to it before, she was hardly honest about it. No matter, after this night he would be full of questions for her. It would come up and he would know another dirty secret of hers.

Frack, how could she do this to him? How could she keep the truth from him like this, as if she even had the right. He comitted himself to her training, he was honest with her. No, she didn't lie to him she only witheld the truth because he didn't ask. She felt hardly justified standing in front of her enemy's palace in the dead of night. Then she noticed the figures approaching through the darkness to take their place as guards.

"Your plan, you lead." She said quietly to him as she waited for him to go to meet them.

A silence eroded the scheme of tranquility in the night. The wander of iniquity found home in the surroundings as Jehkran stood ahead, his newly gloved palm taken up the staff. Tutelage of his former Master had exposed many attributes of the Force, but never could he defeat plight. A tight grasp on the staff lay as display to his continuous nervousness. Fear was known, his mind keen to the obscene and still unseen.

Possibilities flooded Jehkran's mind as the atrocities and catastrophic situations place portraits from his imagination down the corridors of his veins. The slightest step seemed almost meaningless. Before he had rated the handling of the mission, even expected such an encounter, yet still doubt overwhelmed his mind.

An inhale blessed the foolish qualms. Despite the advancement of the exterior, his spirit was in true power. Submission delivered his heart, will, and mind to the ways of old. All the messages Rayna had drilled into him, the meditations had been for righteous reason, and it's purpose was to be on demonstration. The realization tingle his spine, sending words to his mouth.

"Halt, command our post. We must report about our findings, immediately."

Not a heed allowed Jehkran to stumble, and before he knew it his feet were in a rush. Trot after trot led the young soldier of the Force through the trouble. The two guards couldn't even intersect the two disguised paladin's pathway before they were off in the distance of the halls.

She followed Jehkran through the halls wishing she had a map. Though she had thoroughly studied the details available during their time on the ship, she couldn't help but feel lost in the labyrinth. Reaching out in the Force she searched for minds with the knowledge she needed, if only for security within.

"The court should be up a floor and towards the back." She said with semi-confidence. IN conception the plan seemed simple, get in there and sever the head of the dark snake of slavery. The reality of it all was more daunting.

She forced the thought of the would be martyr Gotal into her head, he was willing to die to strike at this system of evil, so should she as well. Fear for her own life lingered. She fought against it with the acknowledgement that the completion of this task would fulfill her goals for the past year. Did she long for justice? No, what fueled her was vengence in disguise.

Without words she eagerly took the lead from Jehkran and turned a corner to the stairwell. Pausing for a moment she looked at her partner, his face concealed behind a macabre mask. "Come on, I'm sure its this way."

"Sure"

The whisper did not escape from the disguise, but the sarcasm carried it's way through his body language. Before she could carry a glance back, he was on her tail awaiting the inevitable failure. Troubles always seemed impending with her feet ahead, or at least Jehkran felt that way. Every time he allowed his eyes to see her, to truly see her, his eyes burned with the truth.

Despite the justified guise she had grown to attire, she wasn't the woman he adorned with a crown of beauty and grace. Only in a mater of time her visage melted, her body sent in discord and her appearance thrown to the pits of her deceit.

Jehkran was on her tail like a backbone and there would be no cracking on his part. Step after step sent them down the dark corridors to gander at a few passerby. The Hutt's kingdom was unsettled, and the bustle of the chambers carried an uneasy cry below and above. Turmoil ingrained it's tendrils in the cracks and crevices of the palace until it became one. Hopefully soon, through the faith of the young Padawan, all would be cured by the hands of the Force.

Time had taught Jehkran to dependent on the elements unseen. Instead of the formalities of reality, he compressed the concepts of the Force through his being, idolized the capabilities the ultimate strength unseen by the naked eye. He had been blessed by the very force he had grown to cherish, and flourished through the tide that sent him down Rayna's pathway. Rayna was his physical teacher, but the only being Jehkran knee; too in tutelage was the Force.

"Lift is over there."

Before Rayna could drop out of her hardened shell, Jehkran gripped her wrist and twisted her about. A trot led the two the activated lift, and they were off. Soon the Jedi would stand on the very level the Hutt resided. Trouble was certainly around the corner.

Justice was around the corner. She could feel it, taste it, see it. The lift opened up to a large corridor, gates guarded by two men in the same outfit as them. She approached steadily down the hallway all the while considering the dangers of the Hutt's court.

She let Jehkran feel her thoughts.

Guards and bounty hunters, most likely. They needed to be neutralized if they were to strike there in the court. Could two Jedi combat the thongs of Jibuu's court? She could. The rage that built within her could supplement her body until the slug's head stared at its bloody body. But Jehkran... Her conscience attacked her course one last time. She should tell him to leave, it was a mistake to bring him along to her battle.

"Tell me, how do we do this?" She asked quietly. He could give his solution and she would listen, but whether she could follow she was unsure.

The court's vastness expanded across Jehkran's youthful eyes. Beauty was a word far from the horrendous smell that overcame his nostrils. Aliens of all type flooded about, faces once imagined were seen. Bounty Hunters eroded the grounds with their very presence, and the reek of foreign meals pasted the tables in the distance. A dim lit dance floor ahead pranced with a few Zeltrons, enjoying the party.

Jehkran had seen very little places like this before.

It made him smile.

Despite the evident wrong that deployed itself in the bundles, he recognized in all the spite there was spirit. In every horrid face, there was a smile to be found. Something was positive, and despite the rather devious visage there was worth in it all.

"We will first find Jibuu," the whisper escaped the Padawan's masked helm. The words dropped nowhere but his partners ears, he was far too cautious to be caught so deep in enemy territory.

Jibuu wasn't close by. Apparently the rustle that rumbled the courts only days before had merit only a few entrances by the palace owner. Applause would certainly warrant the two Jedi's attention, but until then they would have to wait and merge into the crowds. Words would spread, and information would be delayed.

Hopefully violence wouldn't be the absolute for all the folks in the room, but Jehkran was prepared to do so if necessary. All the studies that had led him to such a point were acquired for safety, not offense. The anger he felt in his former Master beckoned his third eye, but he could only blink. Eventually he would have to deal with that, however to uproot his focus would only disturb the goal.

Her eyes walked through the crowd, looking for a sense of structure in the courtroom's architecture. The room seemed like a crescent, though she could only see half, she assumed it was like a crescent but surprises may lie around the gradually curved corner. She began to walk, to stand still gawking seemed too suspicious, especially after she had noticed that eyes were beginning to drift their way.

Nobody suspects. She remeinded herself. No reason to be nervous.

Upon entering the crowd they melted into it and her heart resumed its controlled pace. They dressed as guards of Jibuu, warrenting some attention from the free-loading guests however no one dared to disturb them in their apparent duty.

As they penetrated deeper towards the black heart of Jibuu's empire the room revealed itself not as a crescent, but a snaking S curve. There was no direct route to the Hutt therefore no direct escape. It did not matter, once the slug was dead her own mission was accomplished, Jehkran would find a way out.

Her eyes wandered along the wall, following the pictoral narrative carved in a relief sculpture imbedded int he wall. It was a political story, myth rather, telling a tale of the strong overcoming the weak. All the figures were translated to Hutts, Jibuu in face only, was depicted as the hero. She followed the story with one eye, the other watching her steps as she drew nearer to Jibuu's chamber.

The story on the wall ceased openended, the final panel which should depit the hero installing a glorious reign of thousands of years was not present. Instead, Jibuu sat on his thrown of sin flanked by guards. The great snake curve ended with a lavish room filled with only the most privy of men and aliens. Dark eyes sat close to Jibuu now, evidently a protector in light of the incident with the Gotal.

"You two." A guard in similar uniform to their own said. "Why have you left your post?"

Rayna had been a great teacher, despite her cons. The adequate, wild knowledge she had gained as a Padawan learner had provided her with a specific paradigm that Jehkran could quickly catch upon. The theory remained that a friend was one of the best teachers. Never did the lessons supply the condescending behavior, leaving his mind to roam free with his spirit aligned with the Force.

He had gained his skills quickly.

However, he had been taught before to stay humble. Even the unwaivering power of the Force could not indulge him in arrogance. All the meaningless squabbles with his siblings left bruises that could not be forgotten. Egos could return, but not without the battered remains dragging at the waist side. Jehkran still stood there, eyes on the present, but vacuumed into the past. Still the memories had a pull on him, even with the aid of the immortal Force.

"We were commanded," Jehkran waved.

The motion was typical of a Force adept. The Force reacted quickly, sending a clutch on the man's brain. Behind the protection remained an error--the mind had no armor. In seconds time the strategic moved display it's product in a submissive response.

"We shall proceed without trouble."

One step pass, and the two were only seconds away from Jibuu. Jehkran had studied the plans thoroughly, but as the conclusion came near he could only hope that Rayna's initial response was not too volatile. The assassination would deflate the party, leaving more trouble on their hands than need be if the attack wasn't precise.

Her self control waned rapidly and her heart pumped blood through her veins more quickly with each beat. One cut and it could be over, her lightsaber was at her side. The fat creature of slime was meters away, a Force aided leap could get her there.

Wait.

Walk.

The two disguised guards walked closer to the Hutt, he failed to take notice but the guards left untouched by Jehkran became restless. She wanted to put her blade to his throat, the notion nagged at her without relief. She could take him hostage, put him on trial in his own court... No, this filth existed in the palace because of the sins propagated by Jibuu himself. The court's eyes were blind to justice, she would be the judge then.

"Lord Jibuu, assassins stormed your gate." She said using the Force to disguise her voice. "We are charged with guiding you to safety."

The Hutt's eyes widened and seemed to bulge more from their sockets than she imagined they could. He laughed as the pair of eyes scanned the court.

"Do you not see what lies before us?" His voice rumbled Rayna to her core. "Security fit for the Emperor himself."

Rayna glanced at Dark-Eyes and tried to guess how many other bounty hunters and undercover guards there might be. The plan called for taking Jibuu out of his court and following through with the execution. If the first insistance on Jibuu failed, they were to assert they stay as extra protection until Jibuu adjourned to his private chambers and wait until then to act. No, she could break the plan, it was made without full knowledge of the palace and situation; it was flawed to begin with and that excused her.

An earthquake shook the foundations of the palace until the pillars braced between ceiling and floor broke and gave way to the weight of the above room. Wookie-sized stone blocks crushed sleezy aliens as panic overtook the crowd like a plague. The trained soldiers stood out as they pushed against the retreating crowd in effort to get to the Hutt hey were expected to protect.

"No." She whispered as she unleashed a monsoon of Force power against them, sending them far out of reach from her and her enemy. She locked glares with Dark-Eyes as he struggled vigorously against her fury, but ultimately failed. At last a wall of rubble stood between them and the rest of the court. She paused, searching the makeshift wall for flaws but only found limbs and the x-faced head of one of Dark-Eyes' droids staring ahead, watching.

The remaining guards that once surrounded Jibuu had fallen, Jehkran was hardly the fool to allow them to act while she collapsed the serpent hallway. She wished he was not present for this confrontation, but his help proved necessary as she could not both disable the nearby guards and crush the hallway simultaniously. The helmet she wore ceased to hide her face any longer as she removed it and discarded it, all the while calling her lightsaber to her hand. At last she ignited it and pointed the blade at her enemy's throat.

"Ho, ho." He boomed in conspicuous amusement. "Jedi!"

The Plan?!

The confusion echoed through Jehkran's mind as his eyes rummage through the turmoil. Blocks and other figments of construction toppled under the formidable strength of the Force. The binder of all undid the fortitude, leaving it's adept at work. Impulses pulsated in his calves as he propelled himself from a falling pillar, his eyes dropping carefully on the demise that defile the world around him.

All of it for a simple Hutt.

Despite all the despicable actions the slug could claim, people within the court were of various backgrounds. Faces amidst the crowd bundled in the junk could proclaim to a less wicked life than others. Slaves engulf in the harshness of their environment were sent down derail tracks by the sheer anguish of one being.

It was not the Hutt.

Jibuu wasn't even a catalyst to such agony. He was a simple object, a figure to point the hatred at. Another barn-yard side to unleash an unstoppable magnitude of loathe. The transgression sent waves through the bind, rattling the child's attuned senses. In the depth of the Force came a barrage of misery. Woe slept the many fallen men as Jehkran abhorrence leaked into the pits of his eyes.

He glanced over his shoulder at Rayna's back within the silence beyond the chaotic destruction. Jehkran eyes flared, the memories of disenchantment haunting him. The truth revealed itself as he survey the scenery for a second before instincts expelled his focus. One step and he was sent dashing toward the many remaining enemies.

A sizzle ignited from his waist as he bid the many foe pain. From fingers to legs, many were left dismember in moments time as he listened intently at Jibuu inevitable end.

She inhaled slowly, held her breath, and exhaled. She had it initially planned in her head, how she would describe the sins propogated by the Hutt and his crime empire. Accuse him, declare him guilty, execute him and free the galaxy from his terrible grip; one more pillar of corruption and evil toppled.

"It's your fault." She blurted.

"Ho, ho! Jedi!" He repeated and narrowed his eyes at her. "My fault? Many of the galaxy's grievances eminate from me. You disrupt my trade, raze my property and now assult my court. What have I done to you to deserve this?"

"I could have had a better life. The spice, the sex, living in the slums of Coronet was all because of the web of filth you've built. Do you know what I've gone through, what I'm going through right now? I escaped from the Sith themselves, I should have had a better life but instead your- you trapped me!"

"Your afflictions are not my fault. You did not escape from the Sith, so I've learned, your body was freed, your mind salvaged by agents of my own!" The Hutt illustrated as his fat fingers twidled between themselves.

"Lies. My friend aided me, you stole me."

"Ha!" The Hutt bellowed.

"And you stole from me." She poised the tip of the lightsaber's blade dangerously close to the two slits in the Hutt's face that acted as nasal passages.

"Dear Jedi, calm yourself." The Hutt murmered, careful not to draw any nearer to the glowing blade on his own accord.

"My child." She said through clenched teeth. "I was three months pregnant when the Sith put me away. I was full term when I was freed. You've taken him from me, where is he?"

"Hmpf." The Hutt stumbled over his words before they left his wide mouth. He realized his next words could be his last. His guards were dead, his hired bounty hunters likely the same. No one was coming, his only hope was mutually assured destruction. To lie might send her elsewhere, the truth would devestate her.

"Dead within you when we recieved your disfunct body."

In the mangled remnants of Jibuu's defense stood an engross Jehkran. The battle demanded his focus, his mind, his soul and spirit to an extreme that training couldn't mimic. Deficiency overcame the crowd as pillars smother corpse, and frail bodies lay undone. Rage had not dealt the destruction, but a loyal guide through the terror that painted the walls. A new layer splash across the crumbled fortress, coated in a pure crimson. Blood trickled through the cracks on the floor, drenching Jehkran's boots in the sticky wetness.

The young Jedi panted. Time had pushed the body's will to outpour more energy than he expected, and his belly was left deflated. The trainee was pooped, but he remained. The fluidity of his offense cut the guardians effortlessly, yet he could not help but remain conscious through the ordeal. In the command of the Force he caught sight of a reflection. All the colossal anger that pronounced itself in his attacks echo through his mind.

He had done wrong here.

In the distance rose the sounds of a prate. A vengeful nature eroded the warm voice of his youthful teacher, forcing his eyebrows in a furrow. Confusion complicated the circuitry of his mind as the loud conversation bellow through his focus sense. Weariness faded under the intensity of the dialog, throwing him into an instinctive stupor. Morals spilled into his mind, and a case of sublimation sent him into a dash.

Jehkran could not swallow his hatred without action. He would make his killings right...somehow.

"Dead within you," the words slammed into his ears as he grew near, and his body separated his old master and her foe.

He stood as a bulwark, prepared to defend the very enemy they had come to fight. The assassination were for unrighteous cause, and he had been spiraled in the horrid tale. The story book ending would not be undone by a false paladin and her foolish lackey. Jehkran would stand to the selfish judgment.

"No."

Though Jibuu's nose was dangerously close to her blade, Jehkran now stood closer to the glowing heat. Who was he to stand between her and justice? Who was he, an apprentice, to tell her what to do?

No? She said in a voice barely recognizable as her own.

The darkside appeared clearly to her and called upon her to sweep him aside. She recognized it, she knew what it stood for, but now through the lense of experience she could make sense of it all. The darkside was the true path, it would give her what she wanted.

"Move." She said as the thrill of pleasure appeared on the Hutt's slimy face.

"You can't blame me for your own shortcomings, Jedi. Had my own empire not been there to drag you in, someone else's would have been. Someone else would have provided the spice." The Hutt said as he licked his lips. The two Jedi would kill each other over him, and then the great Jibuu the Hutt would emerge the winner, the bodies of two Jedi to offer to the Empire in exchange for unlimited immunity. The confrontation was not over yet.

"I don't want to have to hurt you Jehkran." She pleaded. "Please, just leave."

Hurt me?

The Padawan was rash, hectic and conflicted. Every impulsive thought trained through his being, and the exhaustion that swept him was caught in the breeze of his emotions. The whirlwind of his spirit doubled as his fiber stretched to call at the once unknown. The beacon to the Force formed him an object of fertility, prepared to expand on the abundance of skill.

A mixture fixed his body. The Echani arts meddled cleanly with the Jedi techniques, his hands calling at his Padawan symbol. Before the cold hilt could be embraced by his quick hands he had already ignited the blade. The obscure line of hatred had played a catalyst to the confused boy. Excitement spread his adrenaline into a rush as instinct linked him to the realm of the unseen.

Jehkran stood as a segment of his potential, but still surrounded in darkness. Rayna had coated the room with her realm, her afflicted disgusting leaking through the Echani's established shield. He could not hate her, but he fed senselessly on the rage within her. The response wouldn't leave him weak as before. All the mock confrontation on the fields of battle had set him for such an event.

The Force had guided the two companions to separate sides of attack. They were meant to clash. It was inevitable.

Destiny sway his body like liquid. A smoothness carried him to the side, beyond the impending doom of the blade tip, only to be followed by a lifting foot. The fight had begun, and his foot would start it with a strong bash against her chest. Memories flashed through his mind at the face he saw long ago in a cantina.

He loved that face.

It had been forgotten. Rayna had lost it long ago, and it made it all the easier for Jehkran to find it in her depths. This...abomination, would fall and the true Rayna would resurrect.

A kick to her chest caught her by surprise. The whole time she had been training Jehkran, the past months, he had never disobeyed her. But she should have seen it coming, in the forest after their non-violent confrontation. Her control over him was slipping and now he openly defied her.

She pushed herself up by her hands and held her blade before her, poised to attack. "Traitor." She snarled.

---

It is said that if you dodge enough bullets you might think you were invincible. Jibuu knew better, Force adepts were far to unpredictable and to remain present during this confrontation was foolish. He quietly chuckled as his tail felt around for the lever that would allow him to exit his crumbling throne room.

The colliding blades cast a shadow of their feuding wielders on the wall. Had he been more foolish he would believe that the dueling Jedi was a creation of his own. No, deep rooted flaws entrenched themselves in the relationship between the the two Jedi. That pot was already boiling, he had only removed the lid.

The female Jedi, the angry one, Jibuu observed, had more experience with the lightsaber. The other, the one who consequently saved the hutt's life, fought with a style of his own. Had it not been his neck hanging in the noose moments ago it would greatly interest him to stay and further assess the battle and its participants. However, he thought as his tail wrapped around a lever, it was unequivocally his time to go.

The floor dropped at a quickened pace, a replacement panel slid from the side of the hidden tunnel and sealed the throne room away. Jibuu glared at his servants who had apparently been in the tunnel for some time.

"Fools!" He bellowed. "How long would you have me captive in the hands of those maniacal Jedi!"

"You're highness, Jibuu. We were doing all we could to save you!" A weaselly alien replied.

"I'm certain." Jibuu replied with great acrimony. "Seal the room! When one of them kills the other, kill the remaining one! Contact the great moffs, tell them I have something that might interest them. And damn it, get me out of here!"

Though he was certain the Jedi would ultimately both be killed. The collateral damage could be quite large; already he had lost his grand hall. The battle, he thought, must be raging by now. A scene witnessed by so few in the history of the galaxy. It was unfortunate he couldn't stay, but his life,his empire, was worth more than anything.

Dismay wrong Jehkran's handsome face. Although she had become his Master, he was far from her servitude. Over the months he had grown observant, more so than before. Visions plagued his mind, even in slumber, infesting his brain with all the horrific possibilities. Conflict brew in his soul, but he had kept it at bay for years now. There was no point in depending on a weakened leg to trot to a fight. Jehkran re-energize himself with the absolutes, noticing how horrid she had become.

A true manifestation of darkness, there was no light but his own that could outshine her glorious doom. Despite the complications he held, Jehkran knew his motion was right. She had become something worth true judgment, and delay would leave her more room to grow like fungus. The galaxy would be overcome with her destructive behavior. The endeavor was a righteous one, and running away was no longer an option.

Nor were words.

She spat her vicious insults, but he regarded it without much change. Displeasure boil in his eyes as he pleased his body into a stance renown in the Echani fields. The remarkable stance embraced him, and he expelled himself forth with his lightsaber in hand. A shimmer dawn in the gloomy remains of the colossal hall, flour scent in all it's beautiful hue. The blade lifted with a swift notion to the sky before diving downward upon his foe.

Thoughts flush his mind as he prepared to take down her saber with strength. The offensive onslaught would command her attention, and certainly place her on the defensive. Hopefully her mind could expand and realize the fault she had placed on display. The master had fallen to the stance of an apprentice, and underling, in his eyes. She had wronged herself, and punishment was necessary to expose the reflection she foolishly illustrated.

She parried her former apprentice's attack and gaged his intentions as he pressed on. Did he intend to completely subdue her? Would he try to incapacitate her to the point where she wouldn't be able to help herself. Perhaps he intended to leave her to Jibuu's mercy. Perhaps the man had been working for the Hutt the whole time. Sent to infiltrate her from the beginning, bring her to the Hutt's Imperial core and execute her. No matter, he was never on her side. The whole time he used her to gain power through the Force and leave her with nothing.

Her insecurities and fears welled up inside her, she channeled them to unleash another offensive against her former apprentice.

Tutelage had taught Jehkran much. Over the months movements had been left calculated, maneuvers captivated for memory. He had hoped to eventually stand before Rayna with a complete understanding. Echani arts had delved deep in the comprehension of man through combat, and Jehkran could never fail his race. Despite the separation into the Jedi ways, he still retain his deep knowledge of his adversary with keen precision.

Every step revealed another emotional cord. The music played to his pattern effortlessly in his mind, but he still was challenged by her sudden relentless offensive. The desperation destined her into a pit of insecurity that Jehkran could see without a glance to her eyes. Rayna had formed a painting, and the Echani Padawan scrutinize with effortlessness.

A lift threw him over her strung strike, leaving him dropping only a few yards away from her. An eye casted of his shoulder as he prepared his hands with a quickened strike about.

If she could be downed with quickness, maybe he could end the fight before she unleashed her horrid depths.

His hand, not his blade, connected with jaw as she arrogantly and blindly turned to pursue the offensive. The blow only hurt her pride, she shook it off and hesitated before resuming the attack by forcing him to make a circle pattern.

How could she have not been prepared for his hand? She likely would have reacted to his lightsaber the same way, only instead of bruise she might be dead. She was loosing focus, under any other circumstance she would have caught the strike and countered. The get hit was unlike her.

Focus. Jehkran had an edge on her with his outside combat training, she knew that before but now it had questionably slipped her mind. While this darker aspect of the Force, she felt, could be a powerful ally. It's brute force was something she was hardly accustomed to. Years of training nearly since she could walk had taught her discipline, had taught her to thoroughly observe her opponent and meticulously plan an assault.

The dark force within in her needed more direction, more strategy. She would use her old training to plan and put her ex-apprentice in the position he least desired to be in. Give him nowhere to jump to, she would restrict his movement and then close in. The circling lead Jehkran to put his back to the wall of rubble, she could corner him there.

All plans and observations abruptly left her mind the moment she believed she had him. Carelessly, despite previous strategy, she superciliously charged ahead, lightsaber poised to take Jehkran down from this throne he had suddenly ascended to.

The fight had changed, quietly. In an array of sweeps, swipes, slashes and counters revealed a detailed plan. Despite the clearness that once overcame the Echani's impulses, they had grown into a disarray. A dis-pleasant rush threw him backward, on an endless path to defeat. The deficit grew as her offensive strike deviated his mind to doubt. Hope slowly slipped from his fingers, deforming his faith as he attempted a balance in his defense.

Echani housed a true understanding of combat. Emotions and truth drew all conflicts, and every Echani grasped such significant points. Tales were unfolded by bouts, feelings expelled in thrashings, defeats and conquers. Over the years that transpired the cultural discretion separated the Echani on a plane of combat no race could comprehend. They were not inheritable better, just keen in their senses and attuned to combat.

Battles matter in their creed, and all struggles, internal or external, were revealed in a man's attack.

Jehkran could feel the drain of his hope placed on complete display, as disarray squabble him of his good senses. Pressed against the rubble, trouble swallow his mind. The transgression had grown overwhelming, and the debris coated him in ways all his senses caught. There was no room for evasion, and she was on her way to a final blow.

The boy was scrappy. Since the days of Jabiim his style graced an undertone of eloquence, but his elegance stood in stark contrast in points of need. A swift thought was more promising than a poignant fall. Rayna had taught him well, but there were things she did not tell him. Details were built a top the foundation of the Jedi creed and beliefs, and Jehkran hadn't become acquainted with indicative natures.

Seconds dispersed all faults, and Jehkran reacted smoothly. There was no above, but there was a below. A kneel threw him to the surface as his teacher dash forward, leaving open a world of trouble. Peril intensify his eyes to a focus that overwhelmed his optics to a pinpoint.

The angelic hilt lay consumed in tighten clasp of it's owner. Emit from the darkness of his hold came the seething blade, shimmering the shaded corner. Anger coil along her leg, tearing through her being in demand for everlasting anguish. In the hand of anyone the blade was formidable, but a Jedi engross a fury within the blade.

Only a knee remained at his master's left leg, and he hoped that would be all that was necessary to take from her. Jehkran did not wished to fight any longer.

Again, Jehkran attacked and took advantage of mistakes made in the fury of the Darkside whelmed up within her. He struck with more harmful intent than the previous attack, her knee was the target. She called off her arcing blow to defend against Jehkran's blade, narrowly stopping it. The two blades crackled and lights quivered across the shadows.

Stay focused, don't give over to the Darkside. She told herself yet stared into the eyes of her declared enemy. If she were to defeat him, she must command every ounce of Jedi training. She had to move smoothly and gracefully, anticipating where he might try to harm her next.

Two two blades disengaged and Rayna spun distance between them. Voices of masters and lessons past gyrated through her mind. With determined intent to defeat the apprentice that had rebelled against her she renewed the assailment. Concentrated and guided by the Force, Rayna became observant of the Light and her combat benefited.

Why? She asked silently as light engaged light. Why had Jehkran defied her and betrayed her?

You're cause is unjust.

The realization stunned her, it was as if he had been telling her the all along. Her cause was unjust as it served only herself. She had tried to use him to assist that cause. Her attack failed her but the light stayed as she took to one knee holding her blade above, suspending the attack. The roles had been reversed and she failed to perceive it. He learned from her about the Force and its nature, but she couldn't teach how to adhere to it or follow its will. He already walked that path, it was her who had strayed far from it.

"I surrender." She said as her body confounded itself and refused to obey any will to attack.

Surprise rattle his composure as the sparkling crack flared in his eyes at the defensive response. Rayna rarely displayed her full potiental, but lost had gave her the strongest catalyst. The woman would not fall too easily, but nor would Jehkran. Deception crept in his mind as he threw himself upward in preperation for more. The bout had painted an endless streak in his mind, and he couldn't help to hold on.

She had done wrong.

Her transgressions would feel the wrath of righteousness.

Yet it all ended. Silence consumed the world about him, and his eyes gazed with absolute focus on his former master. The fight in her eyes turn dismal, and her words were unexpected.

She surrendered.

"Huh?

You what?"

Her blade retracted into its hilt and became idle in her hand, the other slipped beneath the guards armor and past her shirt, there was a scar. For so long she'd known it was there, but never did she know what it meant.

"I surrender." She reiterated.

The Darkside, once again, had determined her actions and brought her to fight her own apprentice, correction: former apprentice. She had observed herself in that fight with Jehkran, she was most effective when with the light, but the light did not want to fight. The dark did though, despite the fact it couldn't win. Was she being selfish then? Simply turning to the light to save her skin.

"You win." She confirmed.

The moment finally was fully understood. All of it was too fast for the fiesty Padawan to swallow, but he managed. Jehkran had prepared his body for every endeavour imagined, yet halt had been ignored in his resigment. Overdosed in combat, his passion flapped in the past for a moment. Adrenaline pumped throughout his being as the sizzling spark came to a swooping end at the press of his hilt's buttom.

She surrendered, but the troubles were far from over.

In spite of the conclusion, his mind had still continued to motion as if in the heat of battle. The bout had played a catalyst for his mind to zoom into his surroundings. On such wasted grounds there was no place for stability. Soon he would be in more trouble than the battle confronted him with.

Rayna and he would have to leave...soon.

"Shut up. We gotta go"

Tell me to shut up... She thought to herself. She wanted some sympathy but... should he give it to her? He probably would not.

She stood up and looked around their surroundings for an exit. Before one could be sighted Jehkran had found one suitable. It was unfamiliar to her, she had only studied the areas of the map she expected to be in, and the unforseen feud with Jehkran had caused them to deviate far from the expected.

Jehkran turned a corner, she followed. Dread crept around inside her as the prospect of fighting again came to mind. Once they got to safety deadly words instead of lightsabers would be used. He had every right to be angry, but still he didn't understand. Maybe she should depart before he could notice. She could get her act together somewhere and... Fantasies. He would find her, Jibuu would find her, there were a number of bounty hunters who would likely be coming after her, the both of them.

Jehkran lead her down a flight of stairs. Do you know where you are going? She couldn't muster the courage to say it outloud, instead she only hinted at her doubt through the Force.

Jehkran felt her.

He always did.

Yet, now he didn't like it as much. At some point he could only look upon her with a despicable gaze. In his mine he wonder exactly how to react, but he could only muster the wrong ways of dealing. Discretion had suddenly become hard, and everything mushed into a pot of stew. Confusion peddle with his brain as his feet came to a halt. Still his back stay a chisel stone to her face.

Silence consumed the hallways as his eyes peered forth, deep into the darkness that he head lead for them. Certainly he knew where he was going, but far too many times he had been doubted. Erratic notions splurge his being, and a conclusion lead his hilt to spark to life. The sizzling muse murmur in his ears as he spread his arms out in a stance. A quickened step twisted his being about and his fury showed itself.

In the pits of his iris laid a disgust as he sought out Rayna through the lit corridor. Steps lay under his feet, however, only the fire of the seven rings of hell kept his soles company. A frown distorted his face as his saber raised up to near it. The braid that he had been told to grow, the bond that he had shared for his master was gone in a flick of his wrist.

It toppled to the surface in a splash of hair. Strands of a gray white sprinkled the canvas as the symbol was destroyed. No longer did the bond remain. Too many times had bond decimated his senses, and all he could do to replace it was anger. Frustration riddled his brain and there was little to answer to come. Not a word could be spoken, only action taken, so without heed he turned quickly about.

The lightsaber no longer claimed the burning life, and latched onto his belt as he stepped through. There was only a few more steps to go to escape. Before he had watched a crowd of guardsman rummage from the way they walked, so the exit would only be a few twist and turns away.

"Freeze!" A guard ordered as he hurriedly stepped out in front of the two, in seconds more guards appeared behind him, weapons drawn.

Rayna did as told, Jehkran seemed hesitant. She welled the Force power inside her, wishing that this minor annoyance would disappear. There were bigger issues before her than coping with overzealous guards. Her desire manifested through the Force and whisked them away, out of their path. Far from incapacitated, the guards scurried to their feet to insist she and Jehkran stand down, but the moment was all they needed.

The Force aided her feet and she reached for her lightsaber, twirling the ignited blade, drawing the attention of the guards' eyes while she planted a swift kick into the sternum a guard. Her blade gracefully followed its master's movements, who was making short work of the foolish guards. Her mind was in synch with her training, her present combat skills showed this to be true. She felt no rage towards these men, it was easy for her to follow the light.

Was that why being a Jedi before she encountered the Sith was so easy? Had she had never felt rage, abuse or shame then? Perhaps not, she didn't know. This hardship she endured now, it was unlike anything she believed possible. Once when she accepted her mission to infiltrate the Sith she was young, so ignorant of the many things worse than death.

She cut her opponent at the legs, watching the blade cauterize the wound. He might walk again someday, but would he ever become a guard for scum like Jibuu again?

She resumed her drone-like state and continued the fight while her mind wandered. Jehkran was fighting beside her now, he was stressed, angry more likely. All because of her. She took him on as an apprentice, taught him the Force but failed to provide the bulwark that a master should have for their apprentice. She wasn't fit, she understood that now, it had been drilled into her head numerous times over the past few days. Initially she worried about him giving over to the Darkside, she never thought she would be the one in danger of that calamity, and in danger of dragging Jehkran with her. She observed his style for traces of repressed anger...

The butt of a blaster rifle hit her gut. Her mind had wandered to far from reality, she needed to be more observant of her surroundings. A year one lesson... She thought of her own life training. I can't even master a year one lesson. She leaped to her feet and out of the fray, gathered her bearings and jumped back in as a plethora of guards entered the fight. However, she couldn't resist drawing an eye back to Jehkran

Weight claimed Jehkran's shoulders as the words sweep into his ears. Defiance wrestled his boundaries, and before long the guards had been thrown into a battle that couldn't be won. Silence died in the sudden onslaught. Fright spread through the guards eyes, at least the one's seen. Some of Jibuu's henchmen carried a various of apparel.

None of it held a standard, and more customized than the official Imperial outfitting. Jibuu was a Hutt, not an Imperial Moff, and despite the courage that warped the Echani's heart there wasn't much necessary.

Doing the right thing was all that he needed to push him through any wicked foe.

Angst swarm Jehkran's being as he watched Rayna initiate the bout. The command strung the Force into the Padawan's grasp, turning it into a latch to rake in his lightsaber from his belt. A sudden twist whirl the hilt to it's commander, sending a warring rage through the air. Pain ensued at a stage unknown to the battered guardsmen. Inhuman faces growl at the prowler as he struck in smooth, and calculated swipes.

Decay remained below at the waist, a crimson charcoal burning at the ashes of skin. The upper region of the foe's body toppled to the floor as the remainder coil beside it. Demise would soon follow with adequate assistance, but Jehkran's mind was unconcerned. Pounds bundled against the floor in a creaking bang, shuttering the earth as the oncoming monsters dashed in Jehkran's direction. Disgust thrived in the Echani's jagged eyes as his heart formed for survival.

A spin turned his body about across the slimy flesh of the last guardsman. The monstrous figure fell into confusion as Jehkran vanished behind him, his lightsaber emit and ready for another drop. Momentary silence died in an immediate cry. Fear, pain and anguish painted an echoing clamor throughout the dead halls, leaving the colossal alien flailing to the floor.

Jehkran had won.

Before a word could interrupt the victor, his eyes were on the prize. A foot spread him forth, throwing him steadily down the pathway through the corridor.

"Move it."

The crack to her gut must have took more wind out of her than she thought. She panted as the sprint towards freedom renewed itself, no something else was amiss. She cleared her throat as she kept up and spit to the side. It was the effects of long term spice usage hitting her when she least needed it, it seemed as if her body was fighting within itself. When, if, they got out she had to do something about this.

A blaster bolt seared past her arm. No time for future resolutions, she had to devote her attention to getting out. They rounded a corner, facing but a window and doors heading perpendicular to their hallway. She estimated 150 meters between the corner they'd past and the end of the line. At most, three doors on either side of the corridor.

"The window!" She called, hoping it would determine Jehkran to use it as his exit, after all he was leading her. Or, he might choose a door simply because he'd become so skeptic of her. She had to take the lead, she was convinced. She received the Force into her body, she sped up with eyes on the window that she believed was their safety and passed her former apprentice.

The Force lead her, bursting the window outwards as she dove through the narrow hole. Instinct lead her eyes to close the moment her body exited the palace, she opened them to an unpleasant surprise. To begin with, she was two stories above ground than she earlier believed, she was prepared for one. In addition to the unexpectedly prolonged plummet, the guards were out in full force circling the building in skiffs and speeders.

Focus. she reminded herself. Let the Force guide you.

An eye swung back, watching as his ex-Master took the hasty route. A sudden burst threw his body out the window, but he wasted no time in his response. Along his face traced a frown as his head swung from side-to-side in disappointment. The shame that rode from her actions detail for imminent danger. Only seconds ago the two had confronted, and not even in the abscence of her hatred did she regard her behavior.

A mirror was in need.

Yet, the young Padawan had been known beyond his Jedi arts to withhold judgment. There was no point in condemning anyone, and no one was beyond redemption, while more importantly he was not perfect. A smooth step set him back, peering out the window at the falling figure.

Spots riddle the ground, faint in their appearance, but not foreign. A squad of henchmen had been well-prepared for the incoming assail, and he certainly would need to follow suite if Rayna was to survive. All the foolishness had long gone to his head, but a clear thought finally eliminated the stupidity.

He would take the door.

"I'll meet you at the bottom," he whispered out the broken window, before a dash to the door. A lift was close by, and hopefully he would reach them before they could hurt her.

A strong gust of wind manifested and pushed Rayna closer to a skiff, she clenched a railing tightly as she passed it by. Within seconds of doing so she realized she was foolish to have thought she might stop her decent merely by grabbing a rail. It changed her rotation by a number of degrees and although she spun wildly out of control, it had at least slowed her down. At last the plummet ended as she crashed front first on a speeder intent on catching her.

There was no time to recoup, especially as she sensed Jehkran had not followed her. She quickly put her feet beneath her and glared at the guards driving. Her heel spider-webbed the windshield which caused enough commotion to distract the men. She leaped into the air, looking for some refuge from the growing number of men out to get her. Even if Jehkran had joined her they wouldn't be able to combat all the guards and win. With her lightsaber drawn once again, she landed on the speeder of another pair of surprised guards, all the while she called for her friend who occupied the Halve Maen through the Force. She leaped again to the next moving vehicle hoping to draw the growing fire power that was following her movements.

Come on, Jehkran. She thought forcefully. Where are you?

"Move."

The rough edge of Jehkran's voice pierced through his sly demeanor, tearing at the command. A rampage of unseen forces splashed like a wave across the flood of foes. The source remained invisible, yet ever so strong in the gust that composed a flying disarray. Discord insued in puzzled eyes, and confused forces as their bodies flung from their grounded stance to the skyline. An array of dismay splurge through the crowd as the robed guardian step calmly from the exit.

In the ochestra of the Force, a pathway had been casted for the hooded Echani to waltz from his dwellings. Darkness litter behind him, and frail bodies rattle the grounds he walked on. Death had not crept it's way on the field, but the injuries were numerous. Surprise had ensured no policy against such unseen strikes.

Jehkran had gained the upper hand, even with his palms motionless at his sides. Even the anxious lightsaber hilt didn't rumble with interest. The seemingly inevitable bout had been pressed to a heed at the sudden pull of the Force's arsenal. A mind engulf in the incredible traits remained still as he stood, eyes catching the grounds of battle.

Red bolts of fire burned into the metal exteriors of the speeders she jumped to causing more damage to the guards' vehicles than to their collective enemy. Finally the inevitable collision between two skiffs erupted, creating a momentum strong enough to create a chain reaction down the line of vehicles, eventually disrupting her rhythm and causing her to fall. The thud cast the breath from her lungs forcefully out, though she thanked fate that the fall was much less catastrophic than the plummet from the window was. In seconds she was back on her feet, struggling to run under an aching diaphragm for her life.

She didn't need to look back to know that the blaster fire had not ceased to chase her, she could nearly feel the heat from each bolt that passed behind her. Apparently Jehkran had been caught up in something more important than lending her a hand, he probably walked through those hallways and staircases admiring the art Jibuu had stolen. Or more grimly, perhaps he was held up with more guards, perhaps they had stopped him and taken him captive... or worse.

She cast aside her thoughts concerning Jehkran's whereabouts and concluded that something needed be done about the chasing speeders. A skiff coated her in its shadow, presenting a novel opportunity. If she could cause it to crash, it might put this whole chase into a standstill. Leaping on instinct, she cut the neck of the driver in the speeder chasing her and landed on the back, burning her leg on the rear engine's heat. The second guard that had moments ago been firing at her couldn't scramble fast enough to save himself, he too joined his friend without his head. She took the wheel and stole control away from the speeder, steering it to hover as high above the ground as it could go. Unfortunately this summit was not high enough to reach the skiff.

A two person air speeder trailed her, it's second man's incessant and inaccurate firing had failed to grasp her attention so far, now it gave her another idea. She would hijack the air speeder and take it to the skiff, but it was so small she was unsure if she could do so without falling. Confidence She reminded herself. The powerful sensation was not present in her duel with Jehkran, it cost her the victory although he justly won. She brushed her regrets aside and decelerated, the seond man, for all his past failed shots, was taking aim. She met the blaster bolt with her blade hoping to disable the pilot, but failed miserably. She leaped again with tired legs, wrapping her left arm around the neck of the pilot and thrusting her hard soled boot into the cranium of the gunner. Her left hand held her blade, dangerously stuck between the console and the guards abdomen with but inches of air between machine and man. She needed the machine and rotated her wrist, severing the top of the pilot from the bottom. The lifeless torso of the pilot casually fell from her arm. Her right hand had guaranteed her passage on the hijacked air speeder, with the newly freed left she yanked the legs by their black encrusted entrails and took control of the air speeder with a mental note of thanks the planet was barren of tall trees. Now to the skiff.

She jerked the air speeder with the professionalism of the elderly in the streets of Coruscant during rush hour, the lurch in the vehicle cause the moaning gunner to flop over to her side, the mask's cold gaze staring at her scowled and determined face. Heads and blasters poking over the edge of the skiff shifted from starboard to port as she soared beneath the hull, turning upward into a vertical climb. The air speeder rocked as its own hull skidded against that of the skiff, uppercutting the unfortunate guard peering over the edge.

To the remaining men, the air speeder appeared without its pilot as it twirled in the air like a rocket short of fuel. While they looked skyward, Rayna pulled herself to the deck with strength of the Force and continued the massacre of guardsmen. The captain barked orders from the small durasteel hut that contained the skiff's controls and the guards advanced against her.

How many men staffed the skiff? She wondered as a staff collided with her shoulder. However many that wanted to die serving the wretched Hutt. She concluded but quickly acknowledged she was approaching the pitfall of the Darkside. Focus

The Force created a burst of power before her, knocking overboard many who stood in her path. She moved quickly though her legs protested and advanced on the command hut. The door fell to the superiority of the lightsaber, as did the captain. She needed only a seconds to steer the skiff towards the palace and only minutes to defend the controls until the skiff collided with the stone palace creating a veil of carnage in which she would escape.

She glanced through the transparisteel window and realized she had no indication of Jehkran's leaving the Palace. She wondered if he might be don below on the ground. Serves him right, he should have followed my lead.

Most of the guards had capitulated now, they instead resorted to escaping once the new course became apparent. She observed the roof of the palace, it was curved in most places and only towers protruded from each corner. It would definitely be a climb of epic proportions, she wished again she studied the map more thoroughly. The wait for the skiff to turn and accelerate towards Jibuu's house of filth gave her a moment to collect her breath. But as the skiff drew nearer to the walls, she broke into a sprint, running in a half circle to give her enough distance to make the jump. The Force joined her blood as it fueled her legs pounding against the durasteel deck. She was going to make this, she was going to escape the clutch of Jibuu's servants and flee the planet leaving the ill planned attack to memory. It all depended on this...

Though her body protested anymore abuse, the Force diverted the pain from her mind. She took to the air with the roof of the place in sight, as she flew the earth shattering collision of bending metal and crumbling stone erupted beneath her. Oh ,the poor souls that might stand beneath the skiff, or worse in the palace...

A groan erupted from her mouth, her great leap turned into a twisting and failing arc. Cold steel constricted around her body encapsulating her and leaving her in the control of another. The Palace roof taunted her as she dangled by a thread of steel above it. Straining to turn her head and see what had happened, she saw the bounty hunter referred to as 'Dark Eyes' glaring down at her from the end of the line and an air speeder.

She would have spit in his direction had not her dangling body met with the great curved roof of the Palace with a thud. Dark Eyes barked at one of the masked droids in the pilot's seat as she tumbled along the tiled roof, her body taking more punishment from the jutting tiles than she ever believed possible. At last the speeder rose, taking her with it. She hung vertically, her head at the bottom, swimming, as blood rushed to her brain. Two hazy spots merged into one as another air speeder approached her dangling body, it was two of Dark Eyes' macabre droids. It stared at her with its lifeless receptors and at last ended her experience of the failed attack and now, failed escape.

---

He reached for his comm sitting idly at his side. Dark Eyes put it to his mouth and radioed in to Jibuu himself. "Jedi Rayna Eclipse... unconscious and captured. Retuning to secondary base. Over."

"Roger that, Xau Ghin." A voice said back. "We've got men standing by."

The world was in a jumble. Sounds of defeat echoed over the horizon, and Jehkran could do nothing. Helpless and depleted, he could feel his heart pump distraught through his veins. The few remnants of the frontier battalion dangled, and scrapped at the planet's floor. He had hit them...and hit them hard, but he was worthless in saving one among the many.

"Rayna..."

A whisper eased from his lips as he glanced about, his blade lifeless at his waist. There was no need to defend, no need to attack, no need for anything without her. Haste sped his mind as he retracted his comments, his acts, his fight, leaving him bare and horrid. Such acts were of the Dark Side, and the hate that lay in the pits of his heart was revealed in all it's disgust.

Along his face trickled a tear, but he restrained the emotion. There he stood a statue, a potent figure of void emotion. The barren grounds bore only one tear, barley a speck, left behind as he walked off toward the ship.

He would get Rayna back, if it was the last thing he did.

She groaned as she rolled over and came slowly to consciousness. The floor was cold stone, apparently the walls were as well, everything was damp. It was hardly a cell designed by Imperial architects, more like a cave with bars on it. She hated caves, the dark and wet atmosphere reminded her too much of her time spent deep within a mountain on Corellia. She stared at the bars, still failing to even sit up, and noticed the Gammorrean who repeatedly poked his head into her view.

He snorted something signifying to other unseen guards that she was awake. INstead of another Gammorrean as she'd hoped, one of dark-eyes droids eerily stepped into view and stared with lifeless eyes. Gammorreans she could handle, droids were another story.

At last she sat up against the wall, scooting to remove herself as far away from the droids vision as possible. She searched her body with her hands and the Force. She had a handful of injuries, her leg felt like it could be broken. She couldn't tell for sure though. Slowly she felt her head. The droid hit her with the butt of a blaster rifle. Her cheek bone was also likely broken; the pain prevented her from touching it hard enough to know for sure. She blinked, her vision was fine though, thankfully no permanent damage there. It was a hell of a beating, all for naught.

And what about Jehkran? She wanted to reach out to him through the Force, she could if she wanted to. But would he want her to? She would let him assume the worst and they would part ways here, to obligate him with her rescue would be selfish. In her heart she hoped he would not come, that he would not continue to burden himself with association to her. She put her hands over her face and closed her eyes. Silently she lamented the mess she had created.