The death of Lord Starkiller came at great cost to Xol,
He let his guard down and in that moment, his former Dark Jedi master; the spectre known as Blades struck from shadow and brought him down with a lightsaber strike to the heart.
That cold moment was the last thing Xol experienced.
Slain on Hoth, so close to reaching the Emperor and ending this war once and for all...
As he reaches out his clawed hand to scratch away the ice crystals, he can hear a door open from down the corridor. Light stretches out from the open doorway and the distinctive mechanical footsteps of a droid can be heard.
“Master Xol,” the unseen droid says into the darkness. “Now that you are awake the Emperor will see you now. Please come with me.”
Curiosity piqued and with little other choice, Xol steps down from the tank ledge and walks toward the open door. Standing at the end of the rows of churning, chilled Bacta tanks is a sleek, black RA-7 protocol droid without any Stormtrooper escort. Still complying with the droid's request he follows it from the doorway of the medical bay through a series of access tunnels, uninhabited and freezing cold under Xol's bare feet. His breath like a mist hanging around his face as he follows the droid for more than a half hour. Then at long last, the pair reach a doorway. It's larger than the others he's seen, made of stone masonry and looking as ancient as some of the temples he saw on Rakata Prime. The columns on either side are inscribed with a multitude of Old Sith glyphs, only a few characters are even recognizable to Xol.
The droid leaves the Yautja at the doorway and walks back the way it came.
“Enter, lost one.” an unfamiliar and foreboding voice says from beyond the doorway.
Feeling no need to fear, Xol steps forward into the pitch black room. To his shock, the effects of the Ysalamir seem to disappear immediately after entering, and he can feel an intense presence in the Force, familiar but yet somehow not all at the same time. With a twist of his hand, the binders restraining him unlock and fall harmlessly to the ground.
“Good.” the new and ancient voice says. “You have progressed well, and though your path is twisted and unpredictable it has led you inevitably to me, just as you were once led to Master Blades.”
“Who are you?” Xol snarls at the mention of his old master's name. “Are you the Emperor I have heard so much about? If your power is so great, why don't you come out and fight me?”
“Patience Master Xol, your bestial rage will not bear you any fruit against me.”
Calming himself Xol responds, “Why have you brought me here and why have you saved me?”
“Your life was spared, because you had yet to achieve your destiny, one which I have foreseen. This grand revelation is the very reason why so many have come to me to seek bloodshed and instead stand beside me. This was the way for your old master Blades. Once a revolutionary himself, he now serves my purpose and understands his role in bringing you, an alien blessed with a purity of Force ability the likes of which the universe had never seen and trained him in the ways of the Jedi.”
“Blades used to say things very similar to me,” Xol scoffs. “He said I would be able to one day return home and in the process defeat Vader and bring stability to the galaxy. That turned out to be nothing but manufactured myth and lies. Blades like all of you just wanted the power of the galaxy himself. Like him, whoever you are, you will die.”
“Bold words Xol, but that has always been your way. Though, you may want to rethink targets for now. I should not be the one you are worried most about. You will find Master Xol I can be most persistent when my hand is forced. What you did to Project Rebirth on Kamino was only a minor delay in creating the finished masterpiece. Now I shall see what makes you so special.”
From a few steps away, a ring of blue flame a few feet in diameter cuts the darkness with such intensity that Xol looks away out of reflex. When his sight adjusts, he can clearly see sat in the ring are his armour, clothing and weapons. The ring's flame has reduced to a low flicker so Xol has no trouble reaching past and grasping his items. In minutes he dons the entirety of his equipment and then waits in the stillness of the room.
“Well you Imperial soft-meat!” Xol yells impatiently. “You wanted a fight Emperor. Well then let's have a fight.”
As a response to the Yautja's impatience, the room begins to illuminate fully. Torches lining the walls of the vast circular room flare with blue flame and drench the stone worked masonry of the interior with light. More ancient Sith symbols line the walls, like a vast repository of knowledge scrawled for eternity into the rock. An upper level can be seen with a balcony overlooking the floor below. Sat atop it is a grand throne and two flanking statues of Sith warriors carrying swords. The swords are themselves large torches of the sapphire coloured flame. Resting comfortably in the great seat is a figure wearing a large, ornately decorated black robe. The hood of the robe is drawn over the wearer's head so far that it completely obfuscates the face of the one who wears it. Behind the lone spectator are two Imperial Royal guards, their crimson armour a stark contrast to the darkly garbed dignitary.
Across the floor of this arena of sorts is a large stone door, a possible exit or path of entry to access the balcony. Xol charges up and unleashes both his lightsabers, and as he is about to land the first blow against the stone door he sees it shift violently outward, as if forced from inside. Another violent shove from inside cracks the rock and makes Xol assert a more defensive stance in response. The Yautja can sense the same energy from when he entered strongly emanating from beyond the door, like the scent of blood. Something troubles him however about what is inside, the feeling he gets is so familiar like being greeted by a loved one or revisiting a childhood home. It unnerves him and he frustratingly cycle through all his helmet's vision modes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of what may lie behind.
A final blow from inside shatters the stone, sending hunks of rock barrelling out into the open area where Xol stands. The explosive blast from the rock has sent a haze of dust into the air obscuring the sizable combatant that emerges.
Shock, horror, and confusion fills Xol's heart as this new opponent steps from beyond the dust. Standing as tall as him and armed to the teeth is another Yautja. The armour is a more traditional steel grey compared to his own blackened style and gripped in each hand are skillfully crafted lightsabers, much different than his own. The triangular laser reticule of the enemy Yautja activates and shines at Xol's helmet.
“How can this be?” Xol asks in disbelief.
“I told you I was persistent Master Xol,” the Emperor responds. “I found a way to finally clone you, power and all. Trained by my own hand of course. That and all your pesky rage and individuality has been bred out of him. This is a pure killer, a true predator if you will, for the Empire.”
“You'll never leave this place alive!” Xol snarls. “I swear it!”
“On the contrary, Dark Jedi. You won't survive this day and in your place will be this agent of destruction born from your own blood. Enjoy your last moments Master Xol, and take pride in how close you came to almost defeating me.”
The Emperor's laughter signals the start of the combat and the Yautja clone ignites his twin orange lightsabers and strikes in a well executed series of thrusts and strikes. Xol has no choice but to defend, still recovering from the shock. This new attacker is unlike anything the experienced master has ever had to face before. The clone seems to know each move Xol will make before he makes it. He barely parries an assault before it hits him. To give himself some distance he attempts to use the Force to push the clone back. However to his surprise and shock, the clone counters with an identical attack creating a collision of the two waves of force in between them both which sends the pair flying away from each other in either direction. Though it may not have been the outcome Xol wanted he takes advantage regardless and throws an ignited lightsaber like a glowing red spear toward the clone, simultaneously running headlong toward the clone to execute a one two combination that he hopes will serve him well. The clone responds by using his own abilities to deflect the saber away and leaps into the air, dodging Xol's charge. As the clone acrobatically flies overtop the veteran Yautja he displays incredible martial prowess and kicks Xol in the back. The strike bows Xol's back and makes him stumble. In his attempt to regain balance he fumbles the lightsaber that remains in his hand. Xol reaches out to reclaim his weapons with the Force and finds his efforts blocked by the clone who has already reclaimed them to his own hands. The clone drops his enemies lightsabers at his feet and unexpectedly begins to laugh.
“What is so funny, you Imperial abomination?” Xol asks, gasping for air.
“I do not believe that you could have possibly been the source of my genetic code.” the clone answers with a chuckle. “You are pathetic, not even a challenge for a being as magnificent as myself. You disgrace me and my Emperor.”
The clone disgusted by the exhausted Xol, looks up to the balcony and asks, “What is your will my master? What would you have me do with this vile thing?”
“Finish him.” The Emperor says coldly before standing up to leave the balcony, his red guards following close behind.
“As you wish my master.” The clone responds before turning back to Xol. “Master Xol, you of course are the reason for my existence in the first place, so as one last gift to you before you die you may retrieve your weapons. You deserve a sporting chance after all.”
“Keep them, scum.” Xol utters with a low growl. “I already have that which I need most of all. Something you'll never have.”
Xol stands to meet his attacker and brushes himself off. The clone, thinking the elder Yautja foolish prepares his lightsabers and kicks Xol's away from him. With a loud scream Xol charges headlong toward the clone, using the Force to maximize his speed. In a blur he surges across the arena floor but as he reaches his opponent he is stopped flat in his tracks by the clone's orange lightsabers, which now have impaled Xol through the upper torso causing him extreme pain. Xol unleashes a yell of fury as the clone pushes further forward with his blades.
“You actually believed you were faster than me old one?” the clone mocks. “Now you are dead, stuck like a womprat on the end of a forcepike.”
“Am I really, you laboratory grown idiot?” Xol replies with a cockiness peppering his words. “Or did you and your new Emperor not educate yourselves on my abilities in the Force. I can allow objects to pass through my body as if I were the air itself, so these chest wounds, are like you. Nothing more than an illusion.”
The clone looks to see that his strikes have indeed not penetrated the armour and flesh of the older Yautja but are merely stuck right through his intangible form. Xol ducks allowing the blades to pass with ease out of his body and in that same moment, he restores his tangibility and sweeps the clone's legs, tripping him up. The clone, falls backward onto his back. Staring up at Xol from the ground the clone can see the elder Yautja draw his wrist blades out from his gauntlet. The jagged metal edge of them shines in the torchlight for just a moment before Xol plunges them into the clone's chest plate.
“I also have the real armour of my ancestors, you false shadow of a creature.” Xol says as he digs his razor sharp weapon deep into the clone's body. “You, like your armour are a copy. A lie created by a megalomaniac dictator to destroy something he barely understands but ultimately fears. Your existence should never have been and even though you are not truly one of my kind, you are the closest thing I have seen in many years, the Emperor will pay for what he has done, I can promise you that. Rest now, and meet the Black Warrior in my people's land of the dead and when I see you there, we will continue our battle.”
Xol hearing the last breath of the clone slide out, grasps his lightsabers and using the Force leaps to the balcony. He can see that just behind it is a hallway that is partly ruin and rock like the room he stands in but then changes to a reconstructed passageway made of modern materials. He bolts down the hall and upon reaching the next doorway without fear phases through it. Xol rolls forward as he passes through the door so that he can be at the ready on the other side. Just as he suspected, the Emperor would not go unattended as he sees around him ranks upon ranks of stormtroopers standing guard in front of a Lambda class shuttle craft. The shuttle's gangway is deployed and the Emperor is boarding, followed by six of his royal guard.
Without hesitation the ranks of stormtroopers open fire with their blasters sending a torrent of bolts toward Xol. In defense, the Yautja becomes intangible but given the sheer volume of fire coming toward him he is finding it difficult to hold on to his focus. Each bolt that passes through him feels like an electric shock channelled directly into his mind. After what feels like an eternity, the first volleys are complete and a portion of the troops are having to reload. Using these precious few seconds, Xol restores himself and begins cutting a swath through the ranks, using his Force abilities to fling soldiers left and right, there screams following them as they fly. Those that fire upon him, are parried by his lightsaber and cut down. His armour takes a few hits but none of them strong enough to penetrate it's dense structure. As he becomes more and more surrounded and is unable to ward off the horde of stormtroopers, he is left with no choice but to sheath his lightsabers and focus all of his energy into the Force.
Arcs of lightning snap and whine as they pour from Xol's body and cut the air. The stormtroopers, incapable of fear proceed to assault the focused Dark Jedi. With a flash of energy, the flitting tentacles of electricity turn into bolts and lash out in all directions incinerating anyone caught in their path. Stormtroopers, armour and all ignite into ash upon contact with one of the red snaking arms of lightning. When Xol feels that all the troopers have been eliminated he loosens his focus and walks overtop the bodies around him toward the shuttlecraft. The Emperor, with a wave commands his crimson guards to descend the gangway and cover his escape.
Once the royal guards exit, the shuttle immediately takes off, raising it's gangway as it flies. Between the shuttle and Xol stand six of the Emperor's personal guard. Though not Force users, the Yautja knows by reputation that these elite combatants should not be underestimated. The guards fan out and take up positions around Xol, powering their forcepikes as they do so and assume a much more offensive stance. The group charge all at once hoping to take the experienced Force manipulator by surprise. Admittedly overwhelmed Xol leaps out from the center of the formation to a more open spot in the landing area. Suddenly a disturbance in the Force fills Xol's mind, but he can not determine what from and his only opponents are more than thirty feet away now. From the corner of his eye he sees the source and moves to dodge. Heavy green ion blasts fired from the shuttle narrowly miss the Yautja but the final shot shudders him and makes him lose his footing. The ionic interference caused by the close shot seems to be minorly affecting his heads up display but not so much that he has to remove his helmet. Xol stands up to face his adversaries who now grow closer to him, their pikes drawn forward like lances as they charge. Though not making a sound, the royal guards' techniques are well executed but fueled by furious hatred for Xol. Each strike that is evaded is answered by two more nearly striking the Yautja in an unprotected area. Unable to focus on so many strikes at once, Xol is caught by a strike to the back of the head and another to the solar plexus which doubles him over, followed by a third bludgeoning blow that collides with the back of his knees, buckling his legs. In response, Xol reaches out to unleash an arc of lightning against one of his attackers, which is successful and sends the now scorched royal guard to the ground but soon after a powerful downward strike to the hand interrupts the Yautja's Force attack. Drawing his lightsabers, Xol proceeds to enter a melee exchange with the remaining five guardsmen. His weapons clash and spark as the guards parry his attacks. He can only infer their weapons are made of lightsaber resistant material. After already battling one powerful adversary today and expending a great deal of energy dispatching the multitude of stormtroopers, Xol can feel his reserves draining away and he knows he must do something soon to either defeat these imperials or retreat. In desperation he headbutts the center guard sending him reeling and strikes another with an elbow before levelling a dual lightsaber strike against a third. While one of his blades was turned away, the second snuck through and pierces the crimson armour of the royal guard with much resistance. It appears that even their armour is denser than a standard stormtrooper and like their weapons might actually be near invulnerable to glancing lightsaber attacks. One of the remaining four guards nearest Xol lands a successive three hit combination of strikes that pounds the Yautja sturdy chest. In the moment that this attack stuns him he can feel white-hot searing pain flood into his body as one of his attackers stabs their pike into his exposed and unarmoured collarbone narrowly missing his neck and a second does the same to back of his leg bringing once again to his knees. Angry but exhausted, the Yautja savagely lashes out but to no avail unable to gain enough reach on the pike wielding guards.
Xol feels like a cornered animal at the end of a hunt, and though he will fight until his last breath, he wonders which one of his attackers will bring him down. As the guards move in for another series of strikes against the partly disabled Xol, a blaster rings out striking one of them in the head, though it was not enough to kill the guard, it did get their attention. The four turn to meet their new challenge whilst keeping an eye on the Yautja never leaving him unguarded. From the distance in addition to hearing further blaster fire, Xol can see a purplish energy orb strike one of the guards and blast them back with a severely damaged chest piece. Summoning all of his remaining strength, he brings himself back to his feet and reenters the melee. Between glances toward his opponents he sneaks a look at what has come to interfere with this clash between him and the guards. From down the hangar, Xol can see Dex leading the charge along with Qiin, Wompit and the Gungan Boomah. Though the royal guards of the Emperor are formidable martial artists, they cannot seem to keep the motley crew at bay.
Dex enters a hand to hand exhange with the lead guard and has his blaster knocked out of his hand, which only leads the clone commando to deploy his fist-knife and plunge it into the underside of the guard's armpit where the armour has a weak point. The nerve clusters and blood vessels struck there are enough to bring the guard down.
Qiin attempts to cover Dex from an attack but is unable to keep up with royal guard attacking her and is struck in the head, sending her to the ground. Upon hitting the ground, Boomah fires a couple shots at the same guard to assist the prone Nautolan. The guard having no choice but to parry the blasts with his pike turns his attention away from Qiin. She uses that chance to slash at the guard's feet using her lightsaber and severs the lowers half of the guards leg, bringing him to the ground next to her, screaming. When he falls, Qiin raises herself up and stabs downward into the guard delivering a coup de grace. The guard's body falls limp and the young woman brings herself back up to her feet.
Wompit angrily storms toward Xol and is blocked by the remaining two guardsmen. In true Mantellian Savrip form he reaches out to grab one of the guards and despite being stabbed by a pike in the arm as he does it, he manages to get a hold of him. Wompit obviously upset about his arm, crushes inward on the guard making the man scream in agony and then throws him to the ground, only to stomp on him as hard as he can. As he does so, the second guard moves in for another strike against the Savrip. Seeing this, Wompit picks up the limp body of the first guard and as if using the body as a club hits the second guard. The powerful blow wasn't enough to kill but did send the guard to the ground, where Wompit proceeds to continue bludgeoning him to death shouting, “Red trooper not hurt master big guy! No! No! No!”
The tremendous Mantellian continues so long that his weapon and his target are far beyond dead and Xol raises his hand to stop the enraged attack.
“Quiet yourself Wompit, I am alright now,” Xol reassures the behemoth. “I am safe because of you.”
The scuffle over, the rest of the group rush over to the injured Yautja and help him up. The pain in is leg is dramatic enough that Xol places weight on the other to compensate.
“Your plan to go down here alone sure seemed to work out huh, big guy?” Dex scolds jokingly. “We got a nice Bacta bath back at the ship with your name on it and this time I may even let you have bubbles.”
A forced smile appears on Xol's face behind his helmet. “Thank-you DX,” he says with a tired voice. “I should have had you there with me...”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Dex replies. “I shoulda settled down with a nice blue-green Twi'lek girl on a paradise colony years ago but you see me cryin'? Of course not, I wear this helmet all the time.”
Xol laughs and knows what his old friend's message is through his humour. He understands and is glad Xol is alive.
“Alright, Qiin and Boomah,” Dex orders, “You take the lead. Wompit and myself will hang back with Xol until we reach the Wayfarer, copy?”
The still slightly stunned Nautolan and purple Gungan nod in agreement and set out ahead of the group.
“So we are still on Hoth?” Xol inquires.
“You betcha big guy, and Wompit didn't even bring any mittens,” Dex answeres sarcastically. “You try and raise these kids right and look what you get, nothing but defiance.”
“How did you get here, the Emperor's presence must have brought half the Empire, not that I am not appreciative of the rescue Dex.”
“No sweat, it appears the Emperor travels light then because we had no idea he was even here. In fact, the big ships guarding this frozen marble booted out into hyperspace two days ago.”
“Strange things are going on 1165, and this new Emperor is incredibly cunning. We have to watch our next move because he may have already anticipated it.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
j.r bennett has done a good job with this story and his story telling, but i am surprise the story has lasted this long. from mto007
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