Mission to Alderaan

[The Dark Man]

[Theme]

Darkness consumes, but,
we shall mark the abyss with eternal fire.​

A brief message came in to the Jedi Chapter House located on Nar Shaddaa. The day was vanishing as the night rose, blanketing the world in darkness. It was now, at the edge of twilight, members of the Small Council would retrieve the newly arrived Sirak, Tesar and Nassaro. They would take them to the upper deck, into the primary conference room reserved for the Council, where in its centre was a holographic projector. An image of a stoic, elderly yet still quite robust man stood. Where ever he was, it was raining, nay, it was pouring down. His robes were drenched, clinging to his skin. His voice came repeated itself, as the video too repeated. "I've sent the other three to aid me on Nar Shaddaa, but I need you three to find me some information on Alderaan. The One Sith currently control it, and our attempts of winning it back have proven inadequate. A resistance of freedom fighters are located on the planet, if you need the extra hand, find them. Otherwise, I need you three to find me some intelligence on the One Sith presence on the planet."

The message ended and began to replay once more. The members of the Small Council would turn, delivering a data chip of information containing three possible locations to investigate;

• Aldera, save Freedom Fighters from public execution by the One Sith.
• Crevasse City, ambush a Sith patrol, locate the commanding officer and apprehend them.
• Juranno, investigate the disappearance of the Freedom Fighters quartermaster.

{ [member="Nassarro"] | Sirak | Tesar }

 

[Tesar Osted]

Tesar bowed slightly before the members of the small council, keeping his head down as a sign of deference. He lifted his head up slightly speaking softly to the few Jedi assembled in the room "As you command, it shall be done." He spun on his heel, heading toward the exit with a slight nod toward Sirak and Nassarro. His feet took him to his room, where he threw a change of clothes into a leather pack and strapped it tightly shut.

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Tesar lurched forward in his seat, restrained by the straps creating an X across his chest. His two stomachs churned slightly as they rumbled around inside of him. He checked the pack between his feet, making sure it was still there. He had decided to put his two light sabers inside of his pack rolled up inside of a spare cloak and without them, he would be left almost defenseless should a dire situation arise. After what seemed like an eternity he blinked softly as the door of the very small transport ship slide open with an almost inaudible hiss. He stepped out onto the platform, his boots splashing in the rain and puddles that never seemed to leave the planet. He looked around, quite frankly unsure where to start his mission.

A blinking light caught his eye and he walked toward it. The door slide open as he approached and he stepped inside the brightly lit hallway. He walked down it and stopped when he saw a young lady of no older than 20. He stopped several feet away from her and coughed softly. She turned her head to face him and a slightly surprised look crept onto her face at first before her expression dissipated to normal.

"How can I help you?" she asked Tesar, a slight smile on her face.

"I am looking for passage to Crevasse City. I am late for a meeting with an old friend."

"Ah, I see." She pointed down a second hallway, running on an intersecting route with the one he had just came down. "Follow this past 3 more corridors and there will be a platform on your right. He bowed his head slightly muttering a word of thanks before he headed down the corridor. He past the three intersecting corridors as the young lady had described and he soon found himself sitting on a public transport unit to Crevasse city.




Location: Aldera (En route to Crevasse)
Objective: Crevasse City, ambush a Sith patrol, locate the commanding officer and apprehend them.

 

[Sirak Kolar]

Sirak's mind was elsewhere when the hologram shot up. His eye's darted to it, and he scratched at his chin, devoid of any hair. A small scabbed scar rested on the understide of his jaw, and as his nails went over it, he thought to himself as to why it formed. His made shook away the thought, content with the idea it had formed from slipping up wet metal stairs in a freighter he was on, or something else to do with Coruscant's disgusting depths.

As the mission was told to him, he smiled, happy with the idea he was back to doing what he was once doing. First things first, he needed to pack and change into something a bit more fitting this. He dawned a dark leather cloak, casual undercloathing for movement and heavy set gauntlets for his own comfort. They acted as weights, restricting his speed, but forcing a harder strike with every movement, and exercising his already large physicue.

As he finished his armament, he stepped out of the small yet modern room. He boarded alone, lucky for him. The padawan almost couldn't stand the idea of boarding with others, simply due to the possible conflicts that may rise. His mind ran back to what his master had told him, to work on containing his emotions, his soul and his thoughts. Sirak regarded what he said as true, but he couldn't help but to rely on them. Everything that seemed to make him, him, was his personality. He felt the jedi would kill what he was, and yet despite this, if he quit now, he'd of betrayed everything he stood for, and himself.

The heavy set door slid open from the room he was in, revealing a slightly empty hallway. Once, this structure may have been full of Jedi, but no longer. They lacked a home, lacked the mastery they once did, and the leadership to boot. The Zabrak Jedi had heard of the Grandmaster and her ways, and had formed a small disapointment in how she ran the Jedi, yet he had respect for her. At such a young age, he considered her a rolemodel in regards to power, yet she lacked the wisdom of a true Jedi Master.

His footsteps reverberated off the metal hallway as he made his way to the ship he was given. An updated version of the Delta-7, he flew a black Jedi Interceptor. Still, Sirak's skill as a fighter pilot was great. Despite his inexperience in fields of combat, his inate skill and training made him a force to be reckoned with in the sky and in space. His feet left the ground as he a lofty jump onto the ships wing, it's aged body showing years of wear. Sirak didn't mind. It showed it had character, and a history.

The ship's canopy opened, allowing him to plop himself into a comfortable sitting position. Readjusting to pull the lighstabers from beneath him, he sat back down and started his pre flight assessment. Proper pressures, no leaks, and plenty of energy to travel to Alderaan using a hyperdrive attachment awaiting his docking in orbit. He sent the signal from his ship to it, getting it into position overhead. The canopy slowly closed and a small hissing came forth, sealing him in his own pressurised tank. A smile parted his lips as his ship slowly lifted, his fingers tingling at the sensation of being behind a star fighter once more.

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Alderaan's air rushed past him as he came into orbit. He smiled at how lacks the security was, and the amount of traffic still coming into and out of its system. It was remarkably easy to stash his hyperdrive far outside of any sensors view, and hid his own ship amongst the large blips that were freighters. No resistence in his landing was a godsend, as he surely would doubt he'd be able to land with any.

As the air around him whirred, he began to slow his ship to an empty field miles outside of the city. In this way, none would search his ship, or him, upon his arrival. As he stepped out of the darkened vehicle, a sharp breathe of cold air filled his lungs. He coughed, his head and body used to the filtered air from Nar Shadda. Sirak hopped off the wing of the ship, wiping his mouth of spittle as he pulled up his hood. In only a few hours, he'd be in the capital of Alderaan, and when that point came, he'd truely begin his mission.

He scratched at his face, something bothering him. The force seemed to ripple on this planet, disturbed by something. The Padawan shuddered, his feet crumpiling the grass around his feet as he walked. It's soft green blades leaving his footprints as a wake on what must've been virgin soil. Sirak's mind focused on the city, feeling for energies and location. Mentally, he was ready, physically, he was strong.

But emotionally, he was hesitant.

 

[Tesar Osted]

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Stepping out of the transport, the sun beat down on half his face, the sun partly hidden behind the other side of the canyon. It was a drastic change from Aldera. It would have been an interesting place to visit had he not been there for other reasons. The walls of the giant crevasse towered above Tesar and seemed to spiral down into a never ending void below. He stepped toward the edge, breathing in deeply and putting his hand on his neck in passive manner as he did. Despite his wishes, his face must have shown some sign of awe as what appeared to be a local grabbed at his shoulder softly, pulling him away from the edge. Tesar turned quickly, a pressure welling up inside of him, ready to send the man flying. The man quickly took a step back, obviously frightened by the Barabels sudden and fast reaction.

Tesar quickly lowered his hands, suppressing the power inside of him. The tops of his hands itched slightly as he did his best to not let his urges get the best of him. He scratched at the crook of his left elbow, quickly apologizing to the man. He picked up his bag fromthe ground in front of him and quickly hurried down the narrow street. The sun had already began to set, the 6 hours of sunlight already up. The faint dim of lanterns and other sources of artificial light slowly lit up the streets, the opposite side of the crevasse seeming to almost glow. He passed entrances to some of the best hotels on the planet, flaps leading to bars where everyone knew each other by name and doors to shops where they sold the finest ingredients and wares. He was forced to stop every once in a while and ask for directions to a specific bar he was looking for, not deterred by most individuals attempts to have him come to their favorite bar instead.

A man stood outside, dressed in nothing exotic or unique, except the yellow seams on both of his shoulders. On his journey Tesar had been lucky enough to exchange a select few words with the leader of the Alderaanian Freedom Fighters. He was told there would be a colleague waiting for him at this very bar, wearing that very boring and hardly unique article of clothing. He nodded to the man and continued to walk into the small bar. The sweet scents meads and wine and hard liquors filled his nostrils. He walked over to a table, several pairs of eyes glancing at him and looking him over. He sat down at an empty table toward the corner, and waited for his contact to come sit down as well.

 

[Sirak Kolar]

The boat closed towards the crowd with soothing wake, rippling the reflection of the moon above them. A strained groan, low and rumbling, came forward as a man above the group called something out in a hoarse voice. He had obviously spent all day up there, calling over rambunctious crowds with a hollering voice. A few singular soldiers, clad in their battle armour stood around the crowd, looking for any problems in the mob, while the entire group waddled onto the boat and readied for the journey across the lake.

The city's sky risers loomed over the lake, their light reflecting across is calm surface while the waves rocked against the boat. Sirak's eye's remained shut, his dark hood still over his head as he waited. The couple next to him slept, the women's head resting on the man's shoulder while a child layed over their laps. It was obvious by the look in their eye and the clothes on their back that they were refugees, coming to the Capital for work after the Sith invaded. The Occupational force was anything but gentle, yet they did no signifigant harm to the people who remained.

Sirak rubbed his head, his facial muscles calm as his fingers stroked at his temple. His mind wandered back to his time being frozen, in what should have been a dark twenty years, he had found images in his mind. Bits and pieces, emotions and wounds, all like stills in his mind. Combat forms he had yet to learn, exotic weapons, doom and the battles he had never fought. He quickly opened his eye's, looking up and outwards to the lake as he realized what the images were. Long ago, he had bonded with his ally and friend, Hasjo. It was his life he was seeing, and his life he was feeling. It must've been the reason for what he saw and felt, and even though he was filled with the life of someone else, he felt empty and cold. His friend was gone, and he could do no good to bring them back.

Sirak sighed, the air around him chilling. Waves rocked the boat as he looked forward, judging the distance to the city. It wouldn't be long now, the city's opposite dock quietly closing in. A few more seconds and the familiar groan of rustic metal and the call of a man above the ship signalled him to depart. He stood before the family adjacent to him, quietly stepping into the main aisle. Blending in with the crowd he wandered into the night time city of Aldera, a city of occupation, and a city of hope.

 

[Tesar Osted]

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"You're late" said the man, his tone soft but hard. He locked yes with Tesar and made no notion of looking away. there was a steely seriousness to this man and Tesar didn't dare test his mental fortitude against his own. "You were expected 3 days ago. We've had friends here twenty-four/seven waiting your arrival."

"Things take time. I am here now, that is what matters. There is no need to reflect on what has passed. It cannot be changed." Tesar responded coolly in an unapologetic tone. He let no sign of weakness enter his eyes or his facial expression. A young scantily clad bar maid walked over to the table and shifted her body weight to one leg. Both Tesar and the unnamed Freedom Fighter looked up at her simultaneously. Tesar nodded at her. "Whatever there is to eat, bring it to me." The man smiled at her and spoke to her briefly, calling her by name and asking her for some sort of local drink Tesar had never heard of. They both sat in silence until she returned with their food and drink. She set the plate down in front of Tesar and he spun the plate slightly to better accommodate his reach. He took a haunch of an unbeknown meat and sunk his teeth into it, growling softly to himself as the sweet scent of the meat filled his nostrils and the smoky taste ran down his throat. The man opposite him sat there silently, raising the drink to his lips every so often to take a sip. He waited patiently for Tesar to finish eating, showing no signs of annoyance or irritation. Tesar looked up after he finished eating the first haunch of meat and said "I hadn't eaten since leaving Aldera."

The man looked up and smiled weakly, "I understand. It was rude of me to presume so much earlier. I apologize." He extended his right hand in order to shake Tesars hand. Tesar hesitated for a moment before he wiped his hand on the leg of his pants and shook the man's hand with vigor. "I am Ulic Kroltho."

"And I am Tesar Osted. Is it safe to talk here or is there somewhere else we can go?"

 

[Sirak Kolar]

Sirak wandered, street to street, vendor to vendor, and ally to ally to find his contact. He was informed to meet him deep in the now slums of refugees and scrap shantys on the under levels of the city. No matter how bad it was here, it still dwarfed Coruscant or Nar Shadda's underbelly like a moutain to a man. As he wandered, he avoided the obvious patrols, narrowly missing one as he dipped into a ally near him, and continued on his way. He passed a man who's drunken bantar forced a snarky expression beneath the Zabrak's hood, but no retaliation was needed.

Finally, he came to a man, rather young and scrappy looking, neck covered in tattoos and his shirt lacking sleeves. He looked up, his youthfulness pressent on his expression. He could have been no older than Sirak himself. His arrogant voice picked up;

"Ya dat Zabrak fella? Tha on' who's gunna help us?", he choked up, his mouth full of something while he spit as he spoke through an accent.

Sirak gently wiped his cheek of stray slobber as he looked down on the boy. He nodded, waiting a moment before responding. His voice was low, yet regal. He sound refined in comparision to this... thing.

"Yes, I am that 'Zabrak'ian who came to help you.", he said, eye's glinting in the dark recesses of the ally.

The boy nodded, looking either way before passing him a holopad. It's surface lit up, illuminating Sirak's face as he looked over it's contents. The boy simply wandered off, every few steps checking over his shoulder for something that wasn't there. The datapad showed the Freedom Fighters were being kept in a local prison, guarded by number of the local stormtrooper force. The simple act of assaulting the place was nigh impossible for the young jedi, and instead he thought of another plan.

First, he intended to scout it out.

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Sirak laid on the roof of the building, his hood hiding the color of his skin in the darkness. Despite it being night, the large moon of Alderaan lit up the night like a lightly lit day. In his hands laid telescopic binoculars, it's scope looking around the facility with a curious intent. It was obvious the jail was made to accompany the large influx of criminals in the city, either those trying to take advantage of the chaos of the invasion, or those who simply saw oppurtunity in the battle, and assumed the Sith too weak to contain order. They were both wrong, and this was proof of that.

The prison had high rising walls, each slanted to protect from laser projectiles. Laser grids and shielding stood on much of the top rings, it's presence for not only intimidation, but for practical management of the high flying population, or climbers. Guards patrolled the walls, their armour contrasting the night with its colors as the watchtowers kept their lookout. Droid bays laid near all the major entrences, a likely riot manever should anyone get so frisky with the prison.

Although difficult to enter, Sirak was confident he could. He lifted himself, gently dropping to street level below no more than a mouses step. His dampened fall a direct influence of his growing control of the force. He listened for a moment, a pulse reverberating around him from inside the prison, forcing him to halt for a moment. He swallowed, knowing full and well that inside was a Sith Commander. The Zabrak clenched his serrated teeth, sprinting up the slanted wall at the perfect moment to allow himself into the facility unnoticed.

As he jumped over the high walls of the facility, flipping over it's fortifications, he landed on the ground on the other side, quickly diving for a shadow. Looking around, he watched the troopers continue on their usual path, none the wiser to his entrence into their facility. Yet it spread again, the same feeling as before. He knew the Sith was close, and he was sure the Sith knew he was here too.

He had to make this quick. He noted where the vehicle bay was in his mind and ran forward to the central building, no doubt where the prisoners were being held.

 

[Nassarro Vek]

Nassarro exited the conference room and parted ways with Sirak and Tesar as they all had their own objective to complete.


He entered the docking bay where his ship awaited him: a worn down shuttle...

The mechanics had already made the necessary repairs before Padawan could embark on his mission. He paid each of the mechanics their credits and thanked them with a solid handshake. As he marched up the lower hatch of the shuttle, the hydraulic systems respondedautomatically to the footsteps and began to slowly close behind him. As the hatched sealed itself shut, nothing but silence filled the interior of the shuttle. It was immediately broken with Nassarro's steps as each one echoed quietly within the corridors. He entered the cockpit, and immediately reached for a lever. He pulled it with ease until it reached halfway, then, applied slightly more pressure onto the lever. Once it reached the end of the pivot, the engine exploded with a roar that rang across the docking bay. It then softened down to a low rumble, ready to take off. Inside, the newly restored ship purred through the cockpit. Indeed, the work that the mechanics put in was more than enough!

Nassarro's grin turned into a quick chuckle as he grew ecstatic, looking forward to taking flight. He sat down and strapped himself onto his chair. He then reached for the steering console and pulled it towards him. With a flick of switch, the shuttle activated its primary engines, and a touch of a button activated the shields. And, by ever-so-gently pulling back on the console, the entire ship lifted itself up into the air and the landing gears retracted on its own. Once he, exited the docking bay, Nassarro, without hesitating, punched in the throttle, sending the shuttle racing past Nar Shaddaa's towering skyscrapers and into the night sky.

Once out of the planet's atmosphere, he made a course for Alderaan and made the jump to light speed.

His mission lied within Sith-controlled territory and due to recently defecting to the Jedi, Nassarro was assigned the mission of the lowest profile:

Juranno - Investigate the disappearance of the Freedom Fighters' quartermaster.

The quartermaster supposedly knows valuable intel regarding the commanding officers, political leaders, and commanding Sith of Alderaan. He was supposed to report to the Jedi Council and the Galactic Senate weeks ago but was reported MIA by the Freedom Fighters.

Once in light speed, Nassarro got up from his chair to prepare his equipment. Behind him stood a closet which contained many of the Jedi's belongings. From within, he removed his black Jedi robes, his long-handled lightsaber, a back sheath, and a holocommunicator. He put on his robes and sat back onto his chair. He then slid the lightsaber into its sheath. Feeling like he was missing something, he stood back up and returned to closet to pull out his old Acolyte mask. He stared intently into the mask, as the shiny black alloy reflected Nassarro's face and his bright yellow eyes. Returning to Alderaan wasn't exactly what he had had in mind. Old memories of the Sith flowed within his head and all he could feel was pain and regret.

Shrugging it off, he clipped the mask onto his belt and calmed his mind.

​"This should help as a temporary disguise... just in case if any Sith happen to appear!" Nassarro thought to himself...

Once landing on Juranno's spaceport, Nassarro exited his shuttle and made his way out and into the mountainous city. It was a cloudy morning and the city's residents had just started their daily commute. He turned on his holocommunicator and produced a list: a list containing names of the Quartermaster's family, friends, and closest comrades. In the middle of a bustling marketplace, he followed the flow of traffic and read the first name on the list.

"Now... let's pay a visit to Vander Fuller....

 

[Tesar Osted]

"There is no place safer inside the city than in here. There are eyes and ears of the Sith everywhere, there are just fewer in here." Ulic said, scratching his chin softly as he did, the bristles on his chin ruffled softly on his fingers.

"You were told why I came here yes?", Tesar asked. Ulic nodded softly, putting his hands on the table and folding them over each other. "Good. I would rather not waste any time. Have you means to ambush a patrol, whether inside the city or not?"

Ulic sighed softly, cracking his knuckles but still keeping his hands placed on the table. Tesar could tell that the look in his eyes was that of slight sadness. The man's planet had been taken over. His friends and possibly family killed for supporting Tesar and the Jedi. He was putting everything on the line to help. He spoke up softly, his eyes glancing around the room as he did. "It would be near impossible to eliminate a whole patrol and take the captain alive inside the city. They are too many and too close to each other. It would be much easier to retreat to the canyons and wait on a patrol there. They tend to send their higher up captains on easier missions since not as much happens out there. Let the new ones handle the brunt of the force in the city."

Tesar nodded slightly as the man talked, thinking of the best way to go about it. "Then it seems our only choice is outside of the city. Do you have a place in mind?"
"Aye, that I do. My scouts tell me that there is a place suitable for such an operation about a mile south. The patrol has to round a sharp corner in part of the canyon, and luckily for us it opens up into a much wider area." Ulic pulled out a small map of the area, placing it on the table. He trailed his finger from where they were to the location of the ambush. He made a small circle around the opening as he did.

"What sort of resistance might we face then? Just troopers and a captain or have they enlisted other means of help?" Tesar lifted up his hand in gesture to call the bar maid back over. "Something to drink. Not too heavy." His forked tongue darted out from behind the two rows of extremely sharp teeth lining his mouth, licking the salty juice from the meat that had begun to coat his lips. The girl brought over a local beer, placing it down with a soft thud. She smiled at both of them and made a strange gesture at Ulic before returning to behind the bar. Tesar looked to Ulic with an intrigued look on his face, one brow slightly raised. "What is that gesture?"

"It is a sign of deference and thanks. She is a supporter of our cause. Her uncle owned this bar once and even though it has fallen to new management she managed to convince them to let us talk and feel safe here since they know all too well the struggles of being true Alderaanian sympathizers."
Tesar nodded slightly, taking a sip from the bitter drink in front of him. He hissed slightly to himself as the cool liquid ran down his throat, burning it slightly. "When do you want to make the move? I would go as soon as you would."

Ulic pursed his lips and thought for a moment and drummed his fingers on the table. "Not too night. If we mean to do this we must make preparations. The earliest we might go is tomorrow night however if you would give us more time it would be appreciated. We must rally our supporters and make sure all understand our goal."

Tesar sighed softly and nodded slowly. "Very well. We give it two days. We cannot delay much longer than that."

"That should be enough time. I think you for coming Jedi. Your support means much to our cause." Ulic rose from his seat, extending his hand again. Tesar stood as well and shook his hand in return. "Have you a place to stay Jedi?"

Tesar shook his head side to side. "I am homeless for the next few days. Haven't the means to rent a room here."

"That won't do. They will kill you if they find a random Jedi on the street." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key. "Around the back of this building there is a warehouse. This opens that door. There is a bed as well as some random supplies. You are free to use it as you see fit."

 

[Sirak Kolar]

Sirak's feet prepped for their sprint, his form low and tight to the ground. He waited, watching the guards before he made his dash, sprinting across the courtyard with a blinding speed. Once more, he dove to the closest darkness, his back pressed against the hard steel of the composite building. A balcony, grated with the moon shining through, stood over him, and he could hear a random guard's footsteps meet the metal with each resounding clank. Swallowing, he waited for the door near him to open, the seconds ticking by slower and slower.

All in a rush, he bound from darkness and into the light as he heard the decompression of the blast door, two guards standing on the other side. Sirak met each at their throat, his hands lifting them both up and back, launching them into a choke slam as he squeezed tighter and tighter to stop any chance of crying for help. The blast door slid shut, Sirak slowly releasing the two troopers from his vice grip. He brushed off his hands and grabbed a genetic reader and a datapad on the prison's layout and occupancy from one of the now unconcious guards. Despite Sirak's deadly grip, he had left both live, although no longer a threat to him. The white walls of the interior made any more hiding not likely to be an option, so he sprinted to where the map told him to, winding through hall ways and stairwells. The force echoed once more, the darkness he had felt seemed closer, almost like a heart beat against his head.

As Sirak sprinted down a rather long hallway, a robed and armored man walked into his view, clad in a black and red battle attire. His full frontal facemask bellowed a remarkable voice, speaking in a rythmic tone.

"Halt, Jedi.", it rang.

Sirak had no choice. His feet shot out infront of him, and held firm against the ground to slow his momentum. This was the thing he had felt before. The dark energy eminating from this place.

This was the Warden.

 

[Tesar Osted]

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Tesar groaned softly as he lifted his head from the now warm cement. He rolled over onto his back, the new, cool ground a relief on his splitting headache. He groaned again and winced as he heard a loud clinking noise above him. He opened one eye, the dim light only blinding him for a second. Through the haze that filled his eyes he saw a white gloved hand, tapping from behind iron bars. He could hear a voice in the distance talking in muffled tones but he couldn't make out the words. His eyes seemed to roll in his head against his own will, each movement more painful than the last. He put his scaled hands to his face, pressing them into his brow and putting pressure on the pressure point to attempt to alleviate some of the throbbing pain in his head.

He laid there in a daze for almost half an hour, tossing and turning constantly. Eventually he brought himself to sit up slowly. He blinked open his eyes fully and took in his surroundings. Black walls surrounded him on all sides. The only detail other than pure blackness, was three single beams of artificial light shining into the room from a slot in one wall that had two, sliding iron bars that locked in place. He crawled his way over to the wall with the slot in it, closed one eye and peered out. He was only able to look outside for several seconds before a guard on the opposite wall came over an crouched on the other side of the door, blocking his view. The guard looked over his soldier and called out to his fellow guard. "This one be awake now it seems. Can't wait to tell the warden 'bout this. He's in for a lovely time, ain't he?"

Tesar scooted backwards into the darkest shadows the cell, curling up slightly. He rested his head on the black wall, closing his eyes again. He tried to think about the sights and sounds that had brought him hear but he couldn't remember anything. All he knew was that his head hurt like there were demons inside of him screaming and that he was trapped. His hands dropped to his belt, feeling at where his Light sabers should have been. He panicked for several seconds before calming himself with several deep breathes. He folded his legs in front of him, his long tail off to the side. He held his hands in the proper position and he tried to meditate. But he couldn't focus between the throbbing pain in his head and all of the questions flooding his brain. How did I get here? Where is Ulic and the rest of the men? How am I supposed to get out?

 

[Nassarro Vek]

The Fuller Residence was a large white dome-shaped mansion - a contemporary structure in Alderaan. For Nassarro, it would take years for him to reach that high of an income to afford a house like that.

He walked up the porch and knocked on the door... no one.
He knocked the second time... this time hearing footsteps from within the home. The footsteps grew louder. Definitely someone was inside the house. The door opened and a woman in her mid-20's presented herself to the Jedi.

"Um... is there anything I can help you with?" the woman asked.

"Yes, is Vander Fuller available at this moment?" Nassarro replied.

"And what for?" her voice turned more hostile and aggressive.

"Just wanted a little talk that's all," Nassarro remained calm and respectful. There was a long awkward pause....
He continued, "If he's not around, I'll be on my way then."

The Padawan turned around and prepared to leave, but just before he took his step, the woman grabbed his shoulder.

"He is inside as a matter of fact... come on in."

Nassarro walked in but was on his guard, "Not quite good at keeping secrets, huh? I know you're leading me into a trap." He thought.

And a trap it was. Right when he stepped into the mansion, the door slammed shut. A Freedom Fighter appeared in a hallway to Nassarro's right with a vibrosword. He dashed down the hall and swung his weapon. Nassarro quickly ducked and kicked his attacker away. The woman drew her vibrolance and attempted to thrust it into the Jedi's chest. But, his reflexes were beyond the Fighter's skills. With a quick glance at the woman, Nassarro, jumped into the air and avoided the attack. He then used the Force to increase his weight by the tenfold, landed on the spear, and crushed it into pieces, leaving the woman defenseless. The Freedom Fighter who was kicked got back to his feet and attempted a second attack only to be thrown into a wall.

Suddenly, just Nassarro thought he had won the quarrel, a platoon of Freedom Fighters appeared with blasters cocked and pointed at the Padawan. A member of the platoon mumbled, "Set blasters to kill..."

Remaining calm, Nassarro lifted his hands into air. Continuing the fight was pointless as he was trying to make allies. Not enemies.

"This isn't what you think it is!" Nassarro exclaimed, "I'm here to harm anyone!"

"You can't fool us this time Sith!" the woman yelled, "The last time one of your kind came into our home, fifteen of our boys were killed without warning! We won't let you go anywhere near Colonel Fuller! Even if it means-"

"~Risking your lives, yeah I've heard that thousands of times," Nassarro interrupted, "But I'm not a Sith; I’m a Jedi.”

“You think we’re blind?? I see that mask clipped onto your belt, your black robes, AND ESPECIALLY THOSE EYES! Only Sith have those kind of eyes... pure evil."

Nassarro slowly walked up to the woman. Alarmed, the Freedom Fighters closed in on him with their fingers on the trigger. But the Jedi kept on getting closer until they were fist length apart. His eyes pierced the woman’s, inducing fear into her brain. A drop of sweat immediately, rolled down her face. Then Nassarro spoke…

“If I were Sith, all of you would’ve been dead before I even stepped into your house…”

The mansion was dead silent…

“Now… where’s Vandar Fuller?”

“RIGHT HERE! JEDI!!!” a voice called out. Nassarro lifted his head to see a large, regal man walking down the stairs…

 

[Sirak Kolar]

The Warden's blade met Sirak's with a violent force, the energy echo'ing in the small hallway. Sirak's voice sprung out in power, seperating the two by sheer force of muscle. He calmed himself, breathing, thinking. This Sith was his equal in height, weight, and skill, if not better. No matter what attack he through at him, he'd stop it. His fighting style seemed to point to Niman, something Sirak could recognize from his own visions of Hasjo, yet he couldn't keep up a perfect counter and attack method on him.

Boots stormed through the allway once more as the Sith in armor charged him, his blade extended to his side. The Zabrak Padawan side stepped, and dropped low as one end of his double edged blade reached to block the incoming strike, while his other end prepared to strike what he hoped would be his flank. The lightsabers met, a micro plasma explosion forming where the blades met before Sirak launched his blade up and towards the rear of his opponent, lifting off his back foot with incredable strength.

Sirak's ears rang for a moment before he realized where he was. The Sith had Force Pushed him into the metal plates behind him, creating a permanent dent behind him. The pure strength of the push was more than enough to break his Force Wall and his concentration, throwing him, his strike, and his mind rolling. His eye's watched as the red coated blade flew towards his position, Sirak having no capable defence. As a last ditch effort, Sirak kicked at the man's knee, knocking his balance off just enough for the sword to strike through his right shoulder, pulling a resounding cry from the young Jedi.

Sirak lifted himself from the hole, knowing full and well he had cracked a shoulder blade and multiple ribs. The burning sensationg in his shoulder reeked of singed flesh. If it weren't for his Zabrak blood, there would be no doubt he would be out of the fight, if not dead. As Sirak regained his balance, he switched the lightsaber into his other hand, quietly breathing as the Sith backed up to watch him, still unharmed.

"You're a fun one, Jedi. You fight more like me than any other I've seen before, and I mean with emotion.", his grin practicaly carrying with his voice.

"The difference is however, you fight with fear, not with anger or excitement. You're afraid I'll sound the alarm, or even that you will lose this duel. Let me tell you, you're right on both counts, if you don't start fighting like a true warrior.", the Sith's shoulders seemed to relax as his blade rested, still lit, near his thigh.

"I've not yet sounded the alarm, and if you kill me, no alarm will be sounded. No prisoners will be purged, and no Sith will come to kill you and your freedom fighters off. Sound fair?", he said almost mockingly, cocking his head in an offering fashion.

Sirak didn't respond, slowly lowering himself for a moment before looking at the slit that was the Sith's armour's eyes. The Sith simply nodded, lowering himself once more.

"I'm glad you accept.", he said, his blade slicing through the air like an unrelenting wind.

Sirak's blade caught his in motion, his left hand compensating for the dead senation in his right. It was numb now, no doubt having nerve damage. He'd need cybernetic implants to fix it now, but he could tolerate until then. No matter what his master had told him however, he knew the Sith was right. He was holding back. His entire fighting style had always revolved around the thrill, the pure enjoyment of the fight. Proud blood made him crave it. His culture made him want it, and the Jedi held him from it. To fight his own nature.

The Zabrak growled as his blade spun through the air, cutting through a pillar in the hallway as it moved, trailing a white hot liquid metal behind it. He spun on his heel, an unrelenting flurry of blows flowing towards the Sith. Strike after strike, hit after hit, all blocked by the Sith, who simply laughed. The harder Sirak tried, the more his blade flew through the air, the more the Warden laughed, calling more and more anger from him. The Jedi was losing himself to the fight, not as a Sith, but as a beast.

He growled again, the Sith responding with an overly cheerful, "Good! Harder! Faster!". Sirak's strike held such a force by this point, the Sith could no longer stop them in their path, instead redirecting the double edged lightsaber to the side each time. It was a beautiful display of light, despite the seemingly uncoordinated sword play.

Walls began to crumple as Sirak's Force Wall expanded, his arm lacks and flinging as he spun and struck, each strike forcing another cackle from the Warden. The Warden struck downwards finally, hoping to end the game he had played, only to meet his blade to the ground. Sirak had moved, his unnatural fighting style still holding some finesse and thought to it, despite his rage. The Helmet clanked against the ground with the Sith's head still inside, his body falling shortly after, Sirak breathing heavily as his blade cut through the neck of the horrid beast.

He waited there, frozen in time as his breathe and sweat seemed to flow together. Sirak swallowed, looking down at the thing he had just killed, and wondered if that would be what he would become some day. He kneeled down and stripped the body of anything useful, armor, lighstaber, keys, datacore's, and anything he could manage before standing back up, his thoughts returning to the Jedi and his mission.

The Zabrak growled once more out of frustration, sprinting off as his arm fell lazily to his side. He still had a job to do.

 

[Sirak Kolar]

As Sirak rounded a final corner, he cut and finished off two more Stormtrooper guards in his way. In front of him lay another door like the one he had entered, but he was short on time. He broke into a full sprint down the hallway, he speed watering his eye's before he jumped and accelerated himself to kick the door full force. It dropped off it's rails, bending the durasteel around it with a violent tearing sound, Sirak left to stand on the crumpled heap of the door.

The room however, was not empty. A man in officer clothing quickly turned back to see him, then back again, his hand slamming down on a large red button, his face filled with terror. Sirak's foot spun around, knocking the man to the ground with little more movement coming from him. He groaned as he latched his lightsaber to his belt once more, using his good arm to find the controls across the board. As the alarm began to sound in the facility, Sirak could hear them yell far off commands and orders, and bootfalls began to echo in the hallway behind him.

Sirak turned momentarilly, forcing the door back into it's position with a great effort before turning back around to the board. A final few keystrokes, and a greenlight lit up above him on what he thought were white walls. The walls seemed to fade, showing hundreds of yards of underground prison cells, each with red lights above them. Almost like a wave, the red lights slowly turned green, moving away from Sirak as they did. Cell's opened, people cheered, and Sirak looked to the data pad to know where to go. He opened the door to his right, taking on his speed again to find the Freedom Fighters he was sent here to recieve.

 

[Tesar Osted]

Tesar growled softly to himself as he paced around the black walls of his cell. He had lost count how long he had been here for, because truth be told he hadn't the faintest idea how much time had gone by. Whether it had been a day or 3 he had no clue. It seemed the every day the walls closed in on him a little bit, the pure blackness creeping closer and closer. He struggled to remain calm at times, his breathing growing heavy, his eyes darting around nervously and his hands clenching and unclenching rapidly. The stress of being locked up in a cell was too much for him. And the worst part was, there was no escape. He was weak from his imprisonment as well, his body still not fully recovered from his time of Coruscant.

He stopped pacing suddenly, his thoughts jarred by the sounds of cheering and a metallic clink every so often. He struggled to open his mind up to the force, feeling out and probing softly. Last time he had tried this, his weakened presence had been thrown aside by the Warden, but this time, it was friendly. It was not welcoming and nurturing as many masters had been before the fall of Coruscant, but he recognized the energy and he was drawn to it. He quickly turned his head to the door as he heard a key click inside of it. Using the force to mask his footsteps, he leapt to the wall alongside the door, hiding in the shadows. The door swung open and a dark, unrecognizable face peered into the room. As the figure took a step back, presumably going to close the door again, Tesar bolted to the door, welling up the force, ready to send the figure in the doorway flying back into the wall. He rounded the corner and stop abruptly. Sirak stood there, as tall and proud as ever, looking down the hallway. "Sirak...You're here. About time."