STAR WARS/PREDATOR: MASTER XOL'S SAGA (PART TWELVE)

Days have passed since the defeat of the Rodian scavengers aboard the Gladiator-class Star Destroyer,

Wompit and the others hurt in the fighting are immersed in Bacta tanks in the ship's medical bay.

Xol stands and watches over the Mantellian Savrip's container with unrelenting dedication. The Yautja's guilt over leaving Wompit alone to face a horde of enemies, gnaws at his bones. He wonders how many more of his compatriots will suffer and perhaps die because of his zealous quest for vengeance.

Meanwhile, the loading bay is abuzz with activity as Dex and Mok Sur Tinn begin processing and receiving the first new droid crew members. The task is exhausting as each one must be individually activated and coordinated for use aboard the still unfamiliar vessel.

Han Solo and his Wookiee partner Chewbacca have stayed on board to complete repairs to their ship even though they have received their payment in full from Xol.

Much is left to be done, and even in the Unknown Regions, no one knows how much time they will have before they are discovered...

The whine of the medical bay door opens and Xol snaps his head to see who enters. Draped in a fine black cloak is Darth Maul; the tattooed Zabrak seats himself next to the larger Yautja and begins to speak.

“You have been down here a long time Master Xol. Mok's droid crew is nearing full activation and we will require some further orders from you before we can proceed. Your captain Dex Kamino is a fine officer but he cannot sense the thoughts of others.”

“You are right Maul,” Xol responds, his voice weary from sleeplessness. “I can do nothing more here, I must continue working on the ship. Are you familiar with Mechu-Deru?”

“Sith Alchemy?” Darth Maul questions surprised. “I am familiar with some of the techniques, yes. Why do you ask?”

“A Sith Lord by the name of Kla once owned a holocron I now possess. Inside its databank were the detailed teachings of another Sith calling herself Bo Vanda. She practiced unorthodox techniques in fusing the dark side of the Force with technology. I had originally only used these studies to amplify my patrol fighter, however now I believe it best to use what I have learned to modify this vessel. I will teach you some of these practices if you wish as there is a lot of modification required.”

“As you wish Master Xol.”

The pair walk from the medical bay together and continue to converse as they walk along the halls towards the loading area.

“Maul, should anything happen to me, I request that you continue to teach Qiin in my absence. She is gifted but far too naive to see that Sith and Jedi teachings are so limiting compared to what we are doing here.”

“I should hope that nothing terrible shall befall you but in that event I will do as you ask.”

The two share a silence before they emerge into the deafeningly loud cargo bay. Droids of various make and model are being assembled and initialized all around them. Standing atop a supervisory platform, Dex and Mok survey and discuss amidst a sea of metallic forms. Spotting the two Force users enter, the armoured clone descends from the platform and briskly moves over to where Maul and Xol are standing.

“Hey big guy,” Dex says plainly. “Mok's droids are in pretty good condition for being antiques. Nearly half are already working on assembling the other half. Also, Captain Solo wanted to speak with you briefly before he departed.”

“Good work 1165,” Xol replies formally. “Keep the droids housed here for the time being, they will need to be modified further by Lord Maul and myself. First we much complete our work on the bridge before that can happen. If you can gather Qiin and Booma, you can meet Lord Maul up in the bridge. I will be along shortly after my conversation with Captain Solo.”

Issued their orders, Dex and Darth Maul go their separate ways to complete the tasks given to them. Xol displeased by any interruption, storms his way towards the Millennium Falcon. A shower of welding sparks streams from it's fuselage as he can clearly see Chewbacca perched atop it, a welder's mask down over his face.

“Wookiee, where is Solo?” Xol shouts up at the mechanic.

Annoyed, and insulted for being called simply Wookiee, Chewbacca angrily grunts, and points to the cockpit of the freighter. He then cusses in his native tongue of Shyriwook before returning to his task.

Not wanting to irritate the Wookiee unnecessarily, Xol walks up the entry gangway and into the vessel. As he walks in, he cannot readily see Captain Solo. Assuming he may be in a maintenance hatch, he changes his helmet's HUD to heat vision and gazes in all directions. He can make out a human form in a hatch beneath the floor. The Yautja walks over to the hidden floor compartment and stomps heavily on top of it. From inside, he can hear the startled shrieks of Han Solo. A moment later, the smuggler climbs up out of the hatch.

“Easy next time your largeness,” Han Solo exclaims. “Do you have any idea how loud those steps can be in an empty hatch?”

“Well Captain,” Xol replies. “What were you doing in there in the first place if you knew I was coming to see you?”

“I had heard you could see through things and I wanted to see if it was true.”

“This had better not be why you called me here Solo.”

“You would accuse me of playing games when there is work to be done?”

“Well, then why have you asked for me here?”

“Seeing as how you have been so good to me, I figured I would share some private intel with you. I just got a message from a friend of mine over in Cloud City. He says that Lord Starkiller is supposed to oversee the launch of a new Death Star in orbit on the planet Hoth. Rumour has it, the battle station will be relatively lightly guarded due to some uprising in a nearby system. The Emperor feels that Starkiller and his command fleet can oversee its completion while the revolution is put down.”

“Solo, how much do you trust this intelligence?”

“I would trust this man's word with my life and I have.”

“Very well then, Captain Solo. I appreciate your intelligence report and as soon as repairs to your ship are complete, you may depart. I would be sad to see someone as resourceful as you leave so hastily.”

“Listen big stuff, I understand you find me charming and handsome and all, but I must be going. A very large Hutt wants me dead unless I pay him a sizable amount of cred. After that, I will come find you and only because I'll miss that beautiful face and your winning personality.”

“I'd like that Captain, and one other thing.”

“What's that your largeness?”

“Tell your friend I have Shyriwook programmed into my translation matrix. Whatever he wants to say about me is fine but he shouldn't insult my mother like that.”

With a swift turn on his heels, the Yautja exits the Millennium Falcon and walks across the crowded cargo bay to a lift that will bring him to the bridge. As the floors whip by, Xol collects his thoughts. He fidgets with his gauntlets control panel, stroking the flashing letters of his native language that scroll across the screen. His mind wanders to that first moment when he put on this armour, his father's armour. The thoughts of his past are scattered by the shunting stop of the lift arriving at the bridge. The door rolls open and he can see the faces of his allies staring back at him as he step forward out of the elevator.

“Now listen all of you,” he begins before the lift behind him can even close it's door. “We are no armada, and we will not need to be. The best hunter is the one who works alone, darting from tree to tree, stalking his prey. This is what we shall become. Through my own experience and powers in the Force we shall upgrade this humble attack craft and transform it into a lethal killing machine, capable of overcoming any obstacle the Empire may throw our way. Her first task will be to take Lord Starkiller before the Emperor and the full power of the Imperial fleet. With him disposed of, we will be able to make a move against our enemy that they will have no defense for.”

“But how?” Qiin questions. “How is it that we alone can do this?”

“I admire your bravery apprentice, you question your master so as to not fall victim to his folly. In the ancient Sith practice known as Mechu-Deru, the Force is fused with mechanical devices allowing the creator to manifest any number of abilities through that machine. This ship will become an extension of myself and my abilities. Qiin, you and Darth Maul will act as partial controllers so that the system does not stop working should I not be present.”

Reaching into a satchel on his waist, the Yautja's clawed hand pulls forth the holocron of Kla and the accompanying amulet. Placing the amulet around his neck, glyphs written in ancient Sith illuminate and the holocron activates.

“These are the teachings of Sith Lord Kla and Bo Vanda. Darth Maul and Qiin; you must study this holocron extensively before beginning work. Start first with the droids, then proceed with the integration of the bridge and the rest of the ship's key systems. Every inch of this vessel must be connected to me, our plan will not work otherwise. Booma, you will assist Mok with the delegation of the droid's tasks and ensuring that the Neimodian falls in line as he is not yet to be fully trusted. Dex, you and the crew will assist in the construction effort but also you must take the Wayfarer out to conduct patrols of the surrounding space. We cannot afford any interception while we are so vulnerable, anything that appears remotely Imperial must be destroyed.”

“Master Xol,” Maul asks. “What of my followers? They too are capable in the ways of the Force and now are a part of this crew.”

“Lord Maul, your comrades will be able to assist in the construction just like everyone else however, when it is complete, their new task will be act as shock troops for ship to ship or ground combat. The Empire employs nearly all of the galaxy's Force practitioners and in order to win out against their armed forces, blasters will not be enough.”

“As you wish Master.”

“Now you have your tasks, go forward and complete them. If I am needed you may find me here communing with the Force and once a new system is adapted I will make the final connection through my communion. We have no time to waste, so to your stations!”

Hastily, the crew splits into their individual groups, while Xol senses a normal level of doubt and unease in them, the trust he senses from them is much stronger.

Weeks pass as the newly modified droid crew set to work on the Star Destroyer's main systems. Xol in a trance-like state seldom breaks his focus as he binds his abilities in the Force to the ship. He hasn't meditated this long since his study under Master Yoda. His mind drifts to thoughts of the venerable Jedi and unexpectedly he can hear his wise old voice slip into his consciousness.

“Dark your thoughts are Master Xol,” Yoda says with a sigh. “Knew this day would come I did. Aboard Vader's Death Star I knew.”

“Yet you trained me anyway?” Xol interrupts.

“In pain you were, of the body and the mind, damaged you were. Guide me the Force did, to teach you our ways. Trust in the ways of Force, you must.”

“If it was so important that the Force guided you to me, then why Master Yoda did you and the rest of the Jedi Order forsake me?”

“Leave you, I did not. Gone was I, to the Force by the time you came back. Clear and inviting, the path to the Dark Side is, but stray away from such a clear path already travelled, you do. A trail of your own design, the Force leads you on, yes. Shrouded, the path ahead for you is Xol. Advice, I have for you lost one. Allow you must not, your own heart to drown out the sound of your enemies cries.”

With Yoda's words trailing off into the recesses of his mind, Xol can hear another voice, Dex.

He snaps awake as the calls from his clone comrade come screaming through his helmet's earpiece.

“Xol, come in!” he shouts, static disrupting the transmission. “Incoming Imperial cruiser, it's an Interdictor Xol, I don't know how it found us but it's heading straight for us.”

“Dex, report back to the ship and gather an assault team. We are going to take it...”


TO BE CONTINUED...

STAR WARS/PREDATOR: MASTER XOL'S SAGA (PART ELEVEN)

En route to an undisclosed location in the Unknown Regions,

Xol has made a pact with the Neimodian crime lord Mok Sur Tinn and the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Maul aboard his ship. This agreement required both parties to bring their comrades in arms to a hyperspace waypoint at which time they would be brought aboard and made a part of Xol’s personal rebellion. Both ships have docked and transferred their passengers and cargo over the Wayfarer transport, abandoning the ships they arrived on.

The Millennium Falcon piloted by smuggler Han Solo waits patiently as they complete this operation.

Now in the docking hangar of Xol’s ship, the Yautja has gathered the crew to join in a meeting that will assess the newcomers aboard the vessels. The Force tells Xol that there is much tension in the air. A fear of the unknown that could unravel his plans before they even begin…

The cargo bay is packed with shipping containers and dozens of people, so many in fact some have had to resort to sitting atop the large boxes around them just so they can all congregate in one place. Low muttering between individuals fills the air with a bevy of sounds echoing off of the bulkheads around them.

Xol steps into the center of the gathering accompanied by Darth Maul, Mok Sur Tinn and Dex. He raises his hand calling a hush to those around him.

“Those whom have gathered here,” the Yautja begins. “You have not been lured here nor are you prisoners or slaves. You and your masters that stand beside me are now a part of something much bigger than yourselves. Together we shall embark on a journey that will see the end of the Galactic Empire. An end that will not come by some Rebel Alliance or through the actions of the Jedi, it will be because of us and on our terms.”

“Why should we believe the words of a Jedi?” a voice asks from the crowd.

“I am neither Jedi or Sith,” Xol replies firmly. “Yes, the Force has guided me down this path but I do not serve some dogmatic religious agenda. This is an uprising by those who choose to truly reshape the galaxy, not in the interest of restoring some ancient republic or further the ends of its imperial bastard child. This is about giving choice back to the galaxy, a true sense of freedom.”

“Do you think that this small band you have brought here can complete such a task?” Another voice inquires.

“Yes I do,” the Yautja answers with assurance in his voice. “If we gathered a large force such as the Rebels have in the past, Lord Starkiller would bring the fleet to bear right on top of us. The Empire is a strong but wounded predator much greater than us. In order to defeat such prey we will become like a pack of hunters, individually non-threatening but, together capable of inflicting terrible wounds that will bring our quarry to its knees. With its final breath we will form a new galaxy. One where the likes of those gathered here can flourish in the peace that we bring.”

“This sounds promising Jedi, but what assurances do we have?” the same voice utters.

“None,” Xol replies bluntly. “This is not a smuggling run where you are paid upon arrival. This is an incredible gamble, and I am sure Maul and Mok agree with me when I say that if you are not up to the task then you can disembark as soon as we reach the final destination of this journey. This is not a sign of weakness, but merely you exercising your freedom. For those who stay, there will be a strict chain of command to ensure our success in this great mission. Each one of you will be assigned duties and will report to Darth Maul, Mok Sur Tinn, General Kamino or myself. You will all be compensated with room, board, and when our mission goes well, perhaps a little extra.”

“And what do we call you ex-Jedi? Or is that title suitable enough?” the voice in the crowd shouts.

“You may call me by my name, Xol. Should anyone refer to me as a Jedi from this moment onward, they will be thrown out the nearest open hatch into space, is that understood?”

The quiet in the docking bay is answer enough for the Yautja as he pauses to collect his thoughts.

“You all have exactly eight hours left before we reach the end of this part of the journey, and then the real adventure begins. In the meantime you are all confined to this cargo hold as this ship’s other areas cannot accommodate your numbers. At this time your leaders and I will retire to private quarters to discuss our next moves. For those who intend to join us, welcome to our revolution.”

The motley crowd breaks off into their respective cliques as Xol and the leadership move toward the exit of the cargo bay. As they enter the hall, the noise and turmoil of the hold, dissipates behind them. The group of newly appointed leaders seats themselves at the large dining table in the common area, while Dex continues onward down the hall toward the cockpit while Darth Maul and Mok Sur Tinn settle into their chairs, Xol begins to address them.

“Gentlemen, I owe the both of you a more in depth explanation about where we are going and what we are facing ahead. Firstly, we are indeed travelling to the area of the galaxy known to you as the Unknown Regions. There, we will find a functional, relatively unmanned ship capable of accommodating a great deal more crew than we have aboard this transport right now. From there we will begin our assault on the Empire. We will require more recruits though, and that is where the two of you come in. You have connections within various non-imperial organizations that also have nothing to do with the rebellion. From these groups we can build up our numbers without rousing suspicion.”

“Actually Master Xol,” Mok raises his hand in interjection. “It will take me a few days but I can have the vessel fully crewed except for command staff, and best of all they won’t require pay!”

“I know it might be your practice Neimodian, but I will not employ slavery. That would be a contradiction to our objective of bringing freedom.”

“No need to worry General, the solution I have is in the form of droids. I have a supplier on Mechis III that I can call upon.”

“And you are sure that this contact can be trusted?” Xol asks.

“Absolutely,” Mok assures. “We go way back, he and I. We served together in the Confederacy.”

“Very well Tinn, we shall make the appropriate arrangements upon arriving at the vessel. Also, should you fail there will be dire consequences.”

“Understood Xol,” the Neimodian replies with a quiver in his bottom lip.

“Those in my ranks are skilled in the ways of the Force but not much else really,” Darth Maul explains before he is called upon. “Their talents are in battle, not so much in space.”

“Do not worry Lord Maul,” Xol says in consolation. “You and your group of force users will be of much use in the coming weeks. Now both of you, return to the cargo bay and bring your key people up to speed on the operation. I will summon you when we arrive at our end destin…”

The Yautja’s command is interrupted by a message from Dex over his helmet’s commlink. “Hey big guy,  the Falcon and I have dropped out of lightspeed but you better get up here.”

“Please excuse me gentlemen,” the stately Yautja announces as he bows. “A pressing matter has arisen and I must cut this conversation short. Continue as we have discussed and I shall meet you in the hangar bay shortly.”

At a brisk pace, Xol walks down the corridor and opens the doorway into the cockpit. Even before he steps foot inside he can see clearly out the forward viewport. There floating in space amidst several large moon size asteroids is a Gladiator class Star Destroyer, the exact ship once belonging to Dark Lord Blades. Xol had only just been here not that long ago and yet, it seemed like he was stepping back in time. A small vessel is attached to its side, one that was not there the last time the Yautja was here. It is fixed in place with mooring clamps and a boarding walkway between it and the Star Destroyer.

“Looks like a GR-75 big guy,” Dex comments as he hears his friend enter the room. “No Rebellion markers though. It could be pirates.”

“Any chance it’s the Empire DX?” Xol asks, frustrated by the other ship’s presence.

“Out this far Xol there would be very little chance of that. Seems whoever it is, is making Captain Solo nervous. The Falcon’s engines are primed and he is preparing for hyperspace jump.”

“Connect me to his commlink immediately!” Xol demands.

With a flip of a toggle, the communication channel opens and Xol is prompted by Dex to speak.

“Captain Solo, cease your actions.” The Yautja commands. “Your engagement into lightspeed may draw unnecessary attention to us from the pirates or whoever they are.”

“Not my problem big fella,” Han snidely retorts. “Deal was for navigation and guidance to this point, not to fight off scavengers at the far edge of the galaxy.”

“Your ship has significant combat ability compared to my own. I am requesting your assistance in seizing the vessel below.”

“No can do your largeness, Chewie and I are blasting out of here back to civilized space.”

“I shall pay you handsomely for your assistance.”

“Well, I am pretty handsome so it had better be good or we’re gone, understood?”

“I will pay you an additional twenty-five percent on top of what you have already received and I will allow you a share of the spoils of whatever we find onboard their ship.”

“Make it thirty, the Falcon could use some love.”

Infuriated by Solo’s arrogance Xol replies, “You are a despicable scoundrel, and a true master of your trade, smuggler. Thirty percent is larceny but acceptable. I will contact you shortly with details of our next move.”

Reaching across the console, the Yautja’s clawed finger flips the toggle off and ceases the comlink with the Millennium Falcon. He turns to walk out of the cockpit, his fists tightly clenched in anger. Before he exits through the hatch, Xol looks back to Dex and says “Patch yourself and Solo into the docking bay comlink system, I will be announcing my plan shortly. Time is something of a commodity right now so I will need you to remain here and be ready to move on my order.”

“Just say the word ol’ buddy and I’ll take this rust bucket anywhere,” Dex responds with a salute.

Quickly making his way back to the cargo bay, Xol mulls over the details of his strategy in his head, his mind contemplating every action and reaction he can think of. He even stretches out with the Force to gain some insight on what the future may hold. Though no image comes to mind, a feeling washes over him like a cold wind. It is the same way he felt when Dark Lord Blades first brought him to this galaxy all those years ago. Choosing to not dwell on such a vague detail, Xol sets it aside for now and enters the hangar with fury in his step.

Staring at a sea of faces, most of them strange he begins to loudly speak overtop of their ongoing conversations seizing their attention.

“Allies, Brothers, Sisters,” he begins. “I had hoped that you may come to know me better before we embarked on our first mission together but the future of our crusade against the Empire is in jeopardy even before it has a chance to begin. There is a vessel just outside that was to become our command ship and now as we speak, raiders are pillaging it like scavengers to a carcass. We cannot allow this to happen, and we shall make them pay for what they have done.”

“Could we not negotiate with these raiders?” Qiin interrupts.

“My apprentice, the time for negotiation will not be now. These carrion crawling maggots may have already seized control of key systems including weapons. They will be neutralized first and then should any survive, we shall have a discussion.”

She nods in acceptance of Xol’s words and leans against a container, a look of reluctant defeat on her face.

“Now if I can have no further questions until afterwards,” the proud Yautja continues. “General Kamino, please increase our speed to full and proceed towards the port side docking bay on the larger vessel. When I give the signal you will release the holding clamps from this docking bay and proceed with the Falcon on a diversionary assault run on the enemy ship. Is this understood General?”

“Affirmative Master Xol, increasing thrust now.” Dex replies firmly.

With a shunt the ship begins to move rapidly towards the Gladiator class Star Destroyer, Dex grips the throttle tight becoming ever more nervous as the large grey hulk grows ever closer. In the docking bay the passengers grab hold of anything that is fastened securely.
“Are you insane Xol?” Mok Sur Tinn frantically yells. “This section of your ship, detachable or not, isn’t a torpedo! We will all be killed by your cavalier risk taking!”

“Quiet your mind Neimodian, you shall live to see tomorrow,” Xol reassures.

Still scared, the frightened lanky humanoid runs for the exit hatch that leads to the rest of the ship. He presses the release and the door begins to slide open. Then, stopped by an unseen hand the door is slammed back into a closed position and the keypad put into a lockdown.

“I did not wish to use my powers to get you to stay Mok but you left me no choice,” the Yautja says with a smile beneath his helm. “Trust the Force, it will be our guide.”

With the Star Destroyer nearly upon him, Dex nervously looks to the console comlink speaker, desperately waiting for any order. Then, just as he is about to make a sharp deviation thus avoiding a collision he hears a relieving sound.

“Now Dex, now!” Xol shouts. “Proceed with your attack run once we’re clear.”

With a firm downward jerk of a stubborn release lever Dex disables the holding clamps for the cargo bay. His view a blur of gray as he sharply maneuvers to avoid a crash, the outer plating rattles as he narrowly grazes the hull of the large capital ship. With a sigh of relief he forms into an attack pattern alongside the Millennium Falcon.

In the now detached compartment, the forward momentum from the Wayfarer’s speed keep the container moving on a collision course. For the most part the crew inside are curled up the floor bracing for a violent impact they fear will come soon.

“Qiin, Maul, try to aid me in this final step,” Xol announces to his comrades as he stretches out his hands in front of him and closes his eyes. “Only our combined abilities will make it successful.”

Reaching out with the Force, the Yautja steers his derelict hangar bay towards the Star Destroyer’s dock. Maul and Qiin’s focus waivers but they too are able to stabilize and slow the runaway compartment. Xol uses all of his own ability to slow it down so much that the trio can set it down gently inside the dock. With a screech, the cargo container of the Wayfarer slams into the hard metal floor of the hangar, its speed too great to truly bring it down gently but it is enough to only rattle the contents and passengers inside. With the final squeal of metal rubbing against metal, the compartment grinds to a halt. Its occupants cheer as they start to stand up and right surrounding objects.

“This is just the beginning, arm yourselves however you can and follow me.” Xol says with intense furor. “We must first secure the hangar bay area. From here we can go throughout the ship.”

The armoured Yautja followed by Qiin, Booma and Wompit open the forward hatch manually and lower the gangway. The motley assemblage of fighters behind them follow as they rush down the ramp leading into the hangar. Their heavy footsteps echo in the near empty hangar as they run across its floor, stopping to take cover behind small fighters and shipping crates that are spaced randomly throughout the bay.

The powerful crack of slugthrower fire erupts from the far side of the hangar, its kinetic rounds sparking as they collide with the bulkhead. Each shot misses by such a large margin that this act seems purposeful.

A voice rings out in a language that Xol cannot understand. His helmet’s integrated translator takes a moment to decipher and configure for the new language. It is Rodese, the language of the green skinned Rodians.

“…our rights,” the mysterious Rodian says as Xol’s helmet configures. “I repeat trespassers; this abandoned ship belongs to us. The rights to salvage are ours alone. Leave or you will be killed and left to float in space with the rest of the garbage.”

As the reptilian finishes, a large concussive force from an explosion can be felt through the bulkhead. A few moments later, a comlink channel opens inside of Xol’s helmet.

“Xol, the enemy ship is neutralized,” Dex reports over the link. “It had minimal shielding so we blew out their engines no problem, however there were no life signs aboard. Whoever owns this thing is already onboard.”

“I know DX,” Xol snaps. “We are currently pinned down in the hangar bay by that ship’s owners. Rodians I believe, salvagers or pirates, I am not sure which. You and Captain Solo get here as soon as you can. Once they find out their ship is useless, they will do everything they can to take this one.”

“Got it. On my way big guy.” Dex says in response before ending communication.

Taking refuge behind a small craft, Xol attempts through his helmet’s sensors to locate his attackers. He can hear their movements. Nearly a dozen sets of boots moving so quietly along the outer edges of the hangar that only his amplified hearing can detect them. His heat vision reveals how dire their situation is. From their slightly raised positions around the perimeter of the landing platform, even with their inferior numbers the Rodians could execute twice their number before the Yautja and his crew overruns them.

Desperate, he motions for the others near him to stay where they are then stands up, making himself visible to the attackers. He unsheathes his lightsabers and turns on the blades. No sooner does the red glow of their blades shine against his armour then is Xol shot at from all sides. Slugs are destroyed as they collide with the scorching hot weapons but they do nothing to deflect or parry the blasts. A projectile slips past and wings him in the shoulder plate and another bullet crashes against his back piece. The damage is not severe but it is enough power that continued shots would penetrate before he could reach one of the Rodians. Returning to cover, Xol retracts his blades and reevaluates the situation.

“Boss’n Xol,” Booma whispers from behind a nearby crate. “Weesan can be stompin’ deez goober faces, no givin’ up time.”

“He’s right master,” Qiin agrees. “They are outnumbered, we have superior skills they do not possess, and we can succeed.”

“My apprentice,” Xol replies. “I agree with you and the Gungan but, we must formulate a plan that would minimize losses on our side. We cannot afford to lose so many crewmembers when there is many needed now. I have an idea, where’s Wompit?”

“Master big guy, Wompit here.” The large brute utters without remaining quiet as the rest.

“Curl up very tight my Savrip friend,” Xol answers back. “It’s time to bring the fight to them.”

Wompit does as his Yautja commander asks and balls himself up very tight. Using the Force Xol pitches the hardened Mantellian towards a group of Rodians. Caught off guard by the sight of a flying creature the likes of Wompit, the attackers draw their guns and fire. In their panic they fail to land a shot as the Savrip lands in amongst them and unfolds himself from his protective posture.

“Greenskin try to kill big guy!” Wompit roars in anger. “They try hurt Wompit. No more hurt from greenskin!”

With unrelenting aggression, the Mantellian Savrip lashes out in all directions, sending bewildered, frail Rodians flying this way and that, their Rodese curses and yells bouncing off the bulkheads as they sail through the air.

“All wielders of the Force to me,” Xol orders as he once again draws his weapons. “We shall take the center, the rest of you converge on the left and watch out for their fire!”

From their covered positions, the crew of misfits the Yautja has brought together, coordinate like a unit and move rapidly towards the Rodian positions. Xol through his abilities runs at great speed and leaps into air high enough to land on the higher platform in front of the enemy. Darth Maul, Qiin and a few others follow suit, their lightsabers ablaze as they fly through the air. The Rodians falter in front of them and fumble with their weapons allowing Xol to cut a few down, slicing up through their weapons and then down into the assailant holding it. The sound of slugthrower fire is nearly drowned out by the whirring hum of lightsabers in combat, their brilliant blades streaking as they cut through the air and into the Rodian attackers.

Shots from the explosive rifles still ring out and collide with Xol and the others. Some are wounded so badly that they fall to the ground, letting out only a small cry of pain as they fall, blood pooling where they lay.

Angered, Xol lashes out with lightning. It’s vibrant, deadly arcs ripping through the Rodians with ease; scorched reptilian carcasses remain where the attackers once stood. Slugs continue to pit his armour as they connect with such kinetic force that he is physically moved backward by the impact. As he moves toward the gunmen, he tries to avoid any incoming fire best he can but becomes frustrated by his saber’s lack of deflection capability against the static rounds coming toward him. With a roar, he casts his Jedi weapons aside and deploys his jagged wrist blades from his gauntlet. The mechanism strains from lack of use but the sight of them causes some of the Rodians to fall back out of fear. Using the Force to increase his speed his closes the gap between him and the riflemen within seconds, cutting into them with his razor sharp blades. With a Rodian skewered on each wrist blade, another moves in to stab him with a fixed vibro-bayonet, and as he grows close to Xol, the Yautja casts off the corpses, laughs and activates his shoulder cannon. The three ominous infrared dots leap onto the greenish attacker’s chest and before he is aware he has been targeted, Xol fires and blows a gaping hole right through him. The bayonet wielding marauder falls at the Yautja’s feet, and with a proud roar, he searches for his next victim. Shots ring out as if to answer him, but not from a slug thrower, they come from a heavy blaster.

A doorway from behind an enemy position is being opened manually by Chewbacca while Han and Dex roll out discharging bolts of blaster fire with flair into the unsuspecting Rodians. Once the powerful Wookiee Chewbacca emerges from the doorway, he draws his bowcaster from his back and fires a full spread, roaring ferociously with each shot. Solo’s flamboyant pistol wielding, yields several kills in a row due to his pinpoint accuracy with the very unique weapon.

“Thanks for saving some for us,” Dex says sarcastically via comlink to Xol.

“Always willing to share DX,” Xol replies.

The playful conversation is cut short by the sound of an explosion near the left side of the hangar. Knowing that that is where Wompit was, Xol uses all his power to race to that area. As he lands near the site of the blast he rolls and pans around ensuring that no raiders lie in wait. What he sees instead is a terrible sight. As a desperate last attempt, one of the scavengers used a thermal detonator against Wompit; the blast killed the Rodian attacker and left the Savrip singed black and lying near death on the ground. As Xol comes closer, the Mantellian knowing his friend is close, tries to speak.

“Master big guy,” Wompit coughs. “Him have blaster ball on him. Hurting Wompit, no more hurting…”

The hulking creature rests his head against the ground and falls silent. Xol kneels besides him and takes off his helmet. The sounds of violence behind him grow quiet as he places his hand on the brute’s broad chest. He fights back the tears and sadness welling up inside of him. For all his power in the Force, he cannot heal those whom he cares about most. His sadness turns to urgency and hope as he feels the faint beat of a very large Savrip heart thump inside Wompit’s torso.

“I need a Medic!” he shouts. “We have wounded!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

STAR WARS/PREDATOR: MASTER XOL'S SAGA (PART TEN)

After his clash with Ateyru, Xol has confined himself to his quarters aboard the Wayfarer transport while Dex and the rest of the crew continue to coordinate their efforts with their newfound guide, Han Solo.

After a smooth departure from Ord Mantell and Worlport, the pair of vessels led by the Millennium Falcon plunge headlong into hyperspace.

In transit, the crew of the Wayfarer is unsure of many things. Where are they going they wonder and what is going to happen to Xol?
 

The questions aren’t nearly as troubling as the answers they may find when they reach their destination…

Xol sits in his room, his armuor strewn about; still seething with the anger he was filled with when he ripped it off days ago. His mind struggles to make sense of life as he stares blankly as his assemblage of holocrons laid on the floor before him. Like a panel of judges silently questioning his fate they glimmer and gleam in the pale light of his room. Deactivated, their voices are still but Xol cannot escape one that seeps into his consciousness like a viscous liquid of cruelty and malice.

“Why do you struggle with your decision Xol?” the dark voice of Chaos says mockingly. “You know as well as I that that Jedi was going to impede your plans to overthrow the Empire. He had to die.”

“Not like that! No Jedi deserves to perish in such ways!” Xol screams aloud, his voice crashing against the wall as a wave of outrage.

“Need I remind you, who you really are and where you come from Yautja or do you not recall what you did to Dark Lady Aranna aboard Count Raxus’ ship?”

“She was my enemy, the Jedi are not my enemy!”

“Well if Ateyru was not your enemy or some prey for you, then why did you kill him?”

“He was in my way!” Xol screams. “Why didn’t he just stand aside?”

“Finally Master Xol, a moment of pure truth. You hide from it too often. You hid from it when you served Dark Lord Blades’ motives and you hid from it in the guise of a Jedi. Accept your true nature, become the very animal you know you are and unleash your true power!”

“Never!” the Yautja shouts.

“Why resist Xol, it is not as if I am forcing you to behave this way. You have always been this way, only now you no longer restrain yourself with some other lesser creature’s dogmatic code of conduct. Stop running and hiding lost one and forge your own path.”

“You are right spirit, I really should make my own destiny and on my terms.”

“Precisely Xol, this is what I have been saying all along.”

“Do you know what one does not require when embarking on a new journey of this kind?”

“What might that be, warrior?”

“A guide.”

With a look of delight washing over his face, Xol begins disassembling his custom lightsaber with the Force. Its scattered components hover around one another leaving the black crystal exposed, its heart still swirling with the red crystal core.

“What are you doing Xol?” the dark voice asks troubled.

“Just as you said spirit, I am being true to my nature.”

Just as he had before when he formed the crystal, Xol focuses his power and mind onto the crystal itself. Objects that are not fixed in place begin to levitate and spin around the room. A shriek streams from the crystal as the black elements are separated from the red.

As it parts, Xol can hear the cries of the entity that is contained within. “You have no idea what you are doing! I am the infinite power of the Dark Side! You are throwing away a tremendous gift! You cannot succeed in your mission without me!”

Ignoring the pleas from the dark force inside his mind, Xol separates the crystals, leaving a black shard floating in the air in front of him while the red one remains in the lightsaber’s housing.

“Now wretched creature,” Xol utters with a growl in his throat. “There are no more chances, no advice of long dead Jedi telling me to keep you in my company. There are no more lies, torture, and manipulation. There will be peace.”

As the dark spirit utters a final scream, Xol using all his might, cracks the onyx colored piece down its center and in one sure crushing motion with his hand, the crystal is shattered into pieces so small it becomes a near invisible powder in the air. A great feeling of mobility fills the Yautja as he feels as though he has removed a great weighted chain from his mind.

His newfound freedom renews him with zeal as he reassembles his lightsaber and dons his neglected armor. Once outfitted completely he exits his room door and makes his way to the cargo bay where the prisoners are being kept.

Each crewmember he passes is shocked to see him and takes a moment to watch him in silent curiosity as he makes his way passed. Upon entering the bay, he is met by more surprised glances from Qiin and Booma whom are guarding Darth Maul and Mok Sur Tinn. Maul sensing the approach of the powerful Yautja, has a malicious smile on his face as he stares down the fallen Jedi. The Sith Lord is restrained by powerful cargo cables and suspended from the ceiling by his arms.

“Qiin, Booma leave and take Mok with you.”

“Master?” Qiin asks confused.

“Do not question me girl,” Xol replies firmly. “This Sith scum and I have some business to discuss. The Neimodian was a hostage and he has served his purpose. So you can do one of two things, either take him to the galley and eat comfortably or throw him out the nearest airlock, it makes little difference to me.”

As the Nautolan begrudgingly drags Mok down the hall, he pleads with her and Booma, desperately trying to convince them not to discard him into space. As their voices disappear behind closing compartment doors, Xol begins to speak.

“Rumor has it that you fight against this new emperor and his forces. Is this true Maul?”

“Yes it’s true,” the Dark Lord says with a scowl. “But why should this matter to you Jedi filth? My compatriots and I am no more an ally to you than your order is an ally of mine. Do not expect your interrogation to yield any results, I will not tell you anything!”

“I am dead to the Jedi and they are dead to me. I belong to no one but myself, and I personally want to see this Empire fall. Now, it seems that you and I have similar goals in mind and I propose we work together. I have bested you in combat twice now, but that does not make you an inferior warrior just one that has known loss. Loss is the only way to gain insight into what can be done differently.”

“You are lying, Jedi!” Darth Maul snaps. “You honestly want me to believe that you have betrayed your order and still want to fight the Empire as you did before? You are trying to manipulate me. You are trying to stop us and I won’t let you or the rest of you Jedi scum. I will escape before you release me.”

“Is that so Maul?” Xol says as he draws his two lightsabers.

“Just as I had suspected from the beginning,” the Sith laughs. “You’re going to kill me because I won’t tell you anything of value. Do your worst Jedi, I am prepared to die.”

“Such a shame really,” Xol says as he slashes at the cables holding Maul up.

A look of shock appears on the Sith Lord’s face as he falls into a pile on the floor.

“Master Xol I do not understand,” Darth Maul asks, as he scrambles out of the tangled cable. “Why have you freed me?”

“I told you, I wish for you to join me in my endeavor. Do you honestly think I would have let you live this long otherwise?”

“What do you ask of me?”

“Contact your associates and tell them to rendezvous with us when we arrive at our next checkpoint before our final destination. There, we will need their help in starting a different kind of rebellion against this new emperor. One where the rebels are not a group of undisciplined rabble but a strong military force capable of seizing power.”

“You think you are the one to take the emperor’s place?”

“Absolutely not, I am no politician, however every cause needs a leader and given my experience against the Empire, I will be the one to place the right replacement on the throne thus crushing this emperor once and for all.”

“What of the remaining members of the Alliance and your beloved Jedi Order?”

“I shall do to them what they have done to me. Their usefulness has elapsed and they too will be forgotten. Now Maul, do we have an agreement or do I have to jettison you with the rest of the trash?”

“I would be most honored to stand beside you, Master Xol.”

“Excellent, now do as I have asked so that we may begin preparations.”

Leaving Darth Maul alone in the cargo bay, Xol makes his way back down the halls to the common area where everyone is enjoying a bit of respite and a warm meal. As the Yautja steps into the room, they all stop what they are doing and look to him, waiting for some sort of command. Looking at the table, he sees Mok Sur Tinn shaking with fear as the cold, dark eyes of Xol’s helmet train on him.

“Tinn,” the Yautja barks. “You have much property yes?”

“I have some things,” the Neimodian stammers. “Oddities for the most part, nothing really of value to…”

“Enough Tinn!” Xol yells, interrupting. “Qiin and I both know you are lying. If you do not wish for me to overturn my apprentice’s decision to spare your life you will surrender all of your possessions and invest them in our cause. If you do not accept these terms, I will kill you and take it. However, if you are as smart a Neimodian as I think you are, you will know that once we succeed you stand to gain substantially more upon our victory over the Empire.”

“Agreed Master Jedi, I would be a fool not to accept.”

“Wompit,” Xol commands. “You and Booma go and watch Darth Maul in the loading area. He has also decided to join us.”

“Can he be trusted master?” Qiin inquires.

“My apprentice, no one can be trusted in this galaxy but we have made an arrangement that is mutually beneficial. Tell Dex to advise Captain Solo of a delay at our next waypoint, there we will take on more passengers.”

“Passengers, master?”

“New recruits in our effort, you need not concern yourself with the details my apprentice.”

Hesitating before nodding in acceptance, Qiin proceeds to the cockpit leaving Xol alone with Mok Sur Tinn in the common area.

“How long will it take Neimodian for your items to arrive?” The towering Yautja inquires.

“No more than a day,” Tinn utters nervously. “I have private couriers that I can entrust them to and have delivered.”

“When Qiin returns, send your message, and we will wait for one day. If it takes longer than that Mok, I will personally throw you into the nearest star and watch you burn.”

Xol leaves the common area on his way back toward the cargo hold. He wants to check up on Wompit, Booma and Darth Maul before turning his attention elsewhere. As he exits the hatch and enters the large loading area, he can hear Dex’s distinctive armor-clad footsteps behind him.

“Gr'rit'Xol!” Dex shouts. “Qiin just told me what’s going on. What are you doing?”

“If Qiin has told you DX-1165, then you should already know.”

“Listen ol’ buddy, I have known you a long time, and I have seen you transition from an angry beast to a disciplined teacher and now this? I don’t need to know exactly what is going on with you, but I do need to know the truth.”

“I have never lied to you Dex,” Xol explains. “Is there something on your mind my old friend?”

“I trust you Xol, but you are throwing yourself in with the likes of Darth Maul and this Neimodian. I just need to know that you have a plan on this one, because I have a bad feeling about this whole thing.”

“Rest assured DX,” Xol pauses. “Dex, it may not seem like it now, but I am doing what is best for the galaxy. I apologize that my unconventional methods concern you to the point of worry. When this is all over, you will understand better I think.”

“I hope you are right big guy,” Dex says as he pats the Yautja’s shoulder.

Seeming relieved, the armoured clone walks back down the hall, making his way back to the pilot’s compartment.

Xol proceeds into the loading dock and walks over to the group of three crew members standing in the center of it. There Darth Maul and Booma the Gungan carry on a quiet conversation while Wompit looks on, puzzled.

“Maul,” the Yautja begins. “Have you contacted your people as I have asked and relayed the necessary information to them?”

“Yes Master Xol,” the Zabrak Sith says in confirmation. “I expect them within the next day, possibly two if the Empire becomes a problem.”

“Good. Now due to our limited facilities here aboard this transport, you, Qiin, and I will now take up sleeping quarters in this cargo bay. This is also where any new passengers will be housed until we reach our end destination. Booma and Wompit, starting now you will be in general quarters safeguarding the cockpit and securing Mok Sur Tinn. Send Qiin back here to me when you arrive and tell her to bring mine and her personal effects.”

“Yousa gottin’ it Boss’n Xol,” the sturdy Gungan replies as he and Wompit make their way to the hatch.

Soon after, Xol’s Nautolan apprentice arrives with all their gear and the three begin setting up their makeshift accommodations in the docking bay. Once assembled, Xol begins training Qiin in the Jedi arts. He includes Darth Maul as well, who is more than delighted to engage in sparring with the powerful Yautja. The trio practice for hours, taking in meals and resting as necessary. Qiin exceeds Xol’s expectations, the young Nautolan female’s keen sense of the immediate future even enable her to keep up with the fast and deadly actions of the physically gifted Sith Lord.

During a period of rest and meditation, Dex summons Xol via comlink announcing that they along with the Millennium Falcon have dropped out of lightspeed at the next checkpoint. Pleased with the news, the Yautja quickly makes his way to the cockpit. Upon entering through its sliding doorway, through the transparisteel front window he can see Han Solo’s ship and two others floating in space alongside them.

“DX-1165, are those the transports we are waiting for?”

“Not sure,” Dex says and he reaches for his console. “Only one way to find out though, I will send a hail.”

With a flip of a toggle, a pinging sound comes for the forward console. Moments later, it is answered by a similar sound indicating that the ship wishes to open a communication channel. Flipping the toggle again, Dex enables a comlink between all four ships. Through the console’s speakers voices can be heard, one being Han Solo’s however the other two are mysterious and unfamiliar.

“Unmarked Wayfarer transport,” one of the foreign voices booms over the link. “We represent Mok Sur Tinn, as a safety precaution we require his security code before we will relinquish it into your custody. This code has a voice indent, so he will need to be present. Do you receive? Is Mok Sur Tinn available?”

“Tinn!” Xol shouts into the comlink in his helmet. “Report immediately to the nearest intercom and I will patch you through to your transport.”

With a pat on Dex’s helmet, the clone pilot presses several switches tying the ship’s intercom system in the open external channel. With a confirming beep, Mok relays his code and the first transport pulls along the Wayfarer and begins offloading its cargo.

With that underway, the second transport’s communication feed streams in. The male voice on the other end is angered and shouting the second the connection is made.

“Where is Dark Lord Maul, pirate?!” the angry voice yells. “If he has come to harm we will hunt you down and kill you ourselves.”

“Forgive me if I am not terrified in the slightest,” Xol mocks. “Your Dark Lord is a guest aboard my vessel and so shall you be but only once you cool that fiery tongue of yours and actually step foot on my ship. If these conditions are not to your liking, my pilot and crew will disintegrate your vessel right here and now, leaving you as nothing more than charred remains floating through space.”

Xol reaches over the shoulder of Dex and disengages the open channel, cancelling the transmission. He waits patiently for a reply or some movement from the second ship. With its thrusters engaged, the secondary vessel also begins docking procedures, just as the Yautja had anticipated.

“Come along DX,” Xol says impatiently. “We must greet our newest recruits and see what we are dealing with before we proceed onward into the Unknown Regions.”

Dex instinctively grabs his blaster rifle and follows behind Xol.

The Yautja’s mind is flooded with the sense of great ability in the Force nearing his location. Whomever Darth Maul associates with, they could be a blessing or a curse. Which one they are is yet to be decided.

TO BE CONTINUED…

STAR WARS/PREDATOR: MASTER XOL'S SAGA (PART NINE)

Making good on his deal with Xol,

Orlo the Hutt liberates Dex’s Wayfarer transport from his storage facility and arranges the removal of Wompit, Dex, and Booma’s slave transmitters.
 

In addition, any supplies apart from weapons are provided to them by the corpulent blue crimeboss.

As agreed, Xol brings the Neimodian businessman, Mok Sur Tinn along to ensure his removal from Ord Mantell and secure their safe passage from the system. As a bonus, they also take Darth Maul prisoner to function as a greater bargaining chip should they encounter the Empire.

However, it being some six years since they traversed the galaxy, Dex and Xol are instructed by Orlo to meet with a knowledgeable smuggler and navigator at a local spaceport to acquire an updated navcomputer before embarking on their journey.

Knowing that Hutts are not known for being true to their word, Xol and the crew load up the vessel and proceed to the rendezvous point ever mindful that they may be stepping into the sluggish gangster’s trap…

The small spaceport on the outskirts of Worlport is nothing spectacular, barely a landing pad adjacent a dive of a bar. It’s sole pad occupied by an YT model freighter that looks heavily modified. As the Wayfarer lands next to the landing platform on a bare piece of earth, dust and debris blow away from the downward wash of the engines. Landing gear drops down digging into the arid brown dirt. The gangway lowers slowly as its mechanisms creak and whine from sedentary lack of use. With the walkway fully deployed, Xol along with Dex exit and wait for the gangway to retract and seal before they begin talking.

“Listen big guy,” Dex begins. “Are you certain that that pack of miscreants can be trusted with my baby while we are in here?

“Don’t worry DX-1165,” Xol replies reassuringly. “Qiin is loyal to me, Booma owes me a life debt, and Wompit is very capable of alerting us of any trouble. It is Darth Maul that concerns me, but he should be sufficiently restrained until we return.”

“If you say so Xol,” Dex says with a sigh. “Um…not that this really matters but, I am curious ol’ buddy. Why did it take you so long to find me? I sent word to the Rebellion for a while after I was captured but when the replies stopped coming; I gave up and made the most of a bad situation. Word has it the rebels are all but gone, wiped out by this Lord Starkiller guy.”

“You may be right Dex, and on the matter of my absence, it pains me that it has been so long. Orlo betrayed me and led me into a trap orchestrated by Jabba the Hutt and the Empire. I received fatal wounds and in that moment of near death, an ancient enemy of mine kidnapped me and had me frozen in carbonite, tortured by a horrific force lo these six years. When I was awoken and realized this, I defeated my enemy, escaped his clutches, and proceeded to Ord Mantell immediately.”

“Oh…” Dex pauses as he absorbs the information but still finds it puzzling. “That old story, sure. Well I’m glad you came back for me, I always knew you would.”

“You are what semblance of family I have left in this world Dex, I will never abandon you.”

The emotional exchange brings Dex to a stop and he sets his weapon down so that he can embrace his Yautja friend in a heartfelt hug. Xol unsure of this sort of interaction pats his comrade’s helmet lightly in understanding. Regaining his composure, Dex slings his rifle over his back and walks with purpose toward the shanty structure ahead.

As the pair enters the building, it is near vacant with a lone bartender serving drinks to two patrons, a human and a Wookiee seated at the bar despite dozens of empty tables being available. The duo glance over briefly as Xol and Dex walk in and then return to their drinks.

“Gentlemen,” Xol directs at the bar. “We are looking for two individuals that are under contract by Orlo the Hutt to assist us. Are you the two we seek?”

“That depends,” the human replies as he talks partly into his glass.

“Depends on what exactly?” Dex asks as he instinctively reaches for his weapon.

“It depends on whether or not you’re the ones in need of this navcomputer I have here and some escort off of this hole or are you Imperial spies sent to kill us?”

“We are not spies,” Xol answers angrily. “We have come for the computer and your assistance.”

“That’s too bad,” the man laughs. “I haven’t fired my blaster in weeks. Well you might as well grab a seat and have a drink with us, because my friend and I aren’t leaving until we’ve had at least another round. Name’s Han Solo, this is my co-pilot Chewbacca and that thing of beauty you passed on your way in, is the Millennium Falcon. She may not look like much but she’s fastest ship in the system.”

“I am Xol, and this is my comrade Dex Kamino. Pleased to meet the both of you, we will gladly drink with you. We haven’t had many pleasures these past few years.”

“So what are you flying out there? Wayfarer class?” Solo asks.

“Yes, but how did you know? Our ship cannot be seen through any of these windows.”

“What can I say, I know ships.” Han responds with a cocky grin. “You boys are going to be tough to sneak passed Imperial patrols, and I’m talking destroyers now, not those Outer Rim freebooters mind you. Just follow me and I’ll get you anywhere you need to go, which brings me to the next question. Where are we headed?”

“It has no name, however I can provide you with spatial coordinates.” Xol answers as he slides over a small datapad that has numbers scrawling across its display.

Han Solo picks up the pad, and after looking it over for a minute, throws it back onto the bar and says, “Are you insane or just stupid? This’ll put us into the Unknown Regions, with well you guessed it. The Unknown!”

“Do not trouble yourself smuggler, perhaps this credit chip to my account with the Banking Clan will steady your uneasy nerves. Assuming the Empire hasn’t discovered it and wiped it clean, it should be more than enough to accommodate you Captain Solo.”

Chewbacca troubled by Xol’s choice of words growls at Han to which the smug faced rogue responds, “Take it easy furball, we’ll see what the man is offering before we decide to go or not.”

Solo inserts the chip into a reader he has in a side pocket. With a green light and an accepting beep, the display is met by the ever widening eyes of the human smuggler.

“This is a lot of credit your Jediness, what sort of trouble are you expecting out there?”

“Enough,” Xol says, his voice turning stern. “Do you still intend to turn us over to the Empire as Orlo has planned?”

“What are you talking about?” the smuggler scoffs, and his Wookiee companion reaches for his weapon.

“At ease Chewbacca, I am neither hurt nor surprised by this. I was once a Jedi Master my dear Captain. I sensed your thoughts the moment we landed. I will deal with Orlo when we come back this way another time. That amount should wipe out your debt with the Hutts though, am I correct?”

“Absolutely, heck I could pay to have em’ killed with this kind of Datari on the table.”

“Then we have a deal Solo. Lead us passed all that the Empire has to offer and guide us to those coordinates, and in return you are a man reborn. We shall disembark shortly.”

“Not so fast Jedi Master, pull up a seat. Right now those Imperials are stirred up like Viper Wasps and they are all gunning for anything resembling a ship right now. We’ll be locked down by gravity wells and boarded before we can engage light speed. We’ll head out in the morning, by then hopefully they will have begun spreading out searches of the system. We’ll slip through the cracks and be on our way.”

“As you wish captain. Do not attempt to double cross me or I will never relinquish the access code to that card.”

“C’mon Xol, it’s me. What are you worried about?” Han replies rhetorically with a smile.

“I shall retire then to the ship. DX, are you coming?”

“In a while big guy,” Dex says as he slides up to the bar next to Chewbacca. “I’m going to enjoy a couple drinks with the boys and maybe play a couple hands of Sabacc if they are game.”

“As long as I get to deal, you shifty old antique,” Han says with a smile.

“Old antique, are you referring to that rust bucket outside or to your mother smuggler?” Dex retorts back, jokingly.

“Alright clone, those are big words, we’ll see if they match your skills with the cards.”

Seeing that his friend will be okay and not wanting to feed into the childish banter between the two men, Xol exits the bar and walks toward his ship. As he approaches, he notices a lone figure in a brown robe sitting just underneath the Wayfarer. The stranger has green tentacles that dangle from its hood.

“Qiin, I thought I had instructed you to stay onboard to watch Maul and Booma. I am most displeased by this.” Xol utters as he storms toward the seated individual.

“You mistaken me for someone else Master Xol,” a male voice utters in broken Basic. “I am Ateyru, a Jedi Knight, and I am glad that the Force has drawn me to you. We had feared you were lost to the Order many years ago.”

The knight rises and removes his hood, he is Quarren and a mutilated symbol on his forehead tells Xol that he was once a Sith with the Empire. Through his senses he can tell that the being that stands before him has a pure connection with Living Force, not with the Dark Side.

“Ateyru, I was under the impression I was the last of the Order. Now it appears that after all these years they had actually abandoned me, and so in turn I must admit I have abandoned them.”

“How do you mean Master?” the Quarren says, a puzzled look across his face. “We had tried to find you but Lord Starkiller has single-handedly scattered the Jedi and crushed the main command of the Rebellion. With Yoda lost to us, presumably dead it was Master Skywalker that sent us to find you so that you may aid us again in our cause. You are one of our greatest champions.”

“Skywalker was a fool to think that after all this time I could be saved, I am not your champion, Jedi. Nor am I your enemy. Now report back to this shadow of an order you come from and tell them I am dead as well.”

“I am sorry Master, I cannot do that.” The young Jedi says firmly. “My mission is to retrieve Darth Maul, finding you here was a fortunate surprise. The order requires the Sith for interrogation.”

“He is my prisoner, and if you hadn’t heard, he may not be your ally but he is no friend to the Emperor either. He has no information worthy of discovering.”

“Master Skywalker sees differently, you may have turned your back on us but are you obstructing me from completing my mission?”

“No, obstructing would mean you have a chance of accomplishing your task. You may have overcome some haunted past as a Sith warrior but you do not want to try my patience boy. You will find I am not as merciful as Skywalker.”

“I am warning you Master, do not impede me further or I will no other choice but to resort to more aggressive tactics.”

The Quarren reaches for his lightsaber and ignites the weapon. He raises its emerald blade in front of him in a basic attack stance.

“Do not make me destroy you Ateyru, I may not be a Sith or even a Dark Jedi, but I will not give you quarter should you decide to not heed my warnings young one.”

“I am not as young as you think, oh fallen master!”

The swift young Jedi moves in to close with Xol. Before he can execute his first swing of his blade, the Yautja has deployed both of his. He crashes his crimson pair against the humming green Jedi blade smacking it down to the ground with intense power. With this opening Xol simultaneously stamps down on Ateyru’s weapon with his foot and slashes at the knight’s arms with his lightsabers. The red, blazingly hot weapons sever cleanly through the Quarren’s limbs. With a scream of agony, the Jedi glances at his seared, charred stumps and a look of hopelessness washes over his face. While the young knight takes in his situation, Xol uses his powers to lift the warrior from the ground and suspend him in air. Anger from his feelings of abandon fill up the Yautja’s mind like a goblet of pain and anguish causing him to begin tightening his grip on the Jedi.

“How could you do this?” yells Ateyru, “You are one of us! One of our teachers! How can you protect such a creature as Darth Maul, it’s madness!”

“He is required young one, do you yield or must I destroy you?” Xol angrily growls.

“You and I both know I cannot do that Master. I am a Jedi, and if this should be my end, I will always be stronger than you.”

At the uttering of the Quarren’s last word, Xol can feel his anger burst forth in his blood. His rage takes over, and he can no longer stand the sight of this petulant Jedi strung up before him. He lashes out wildly with the Force, sending arcs of vibrant red lightning streaming from his fingertips, roaring like a great beast. The violent tongues of energy rip at the Jedi’s body, tearing flesh and cloak alike until finally, the knight’s form bursts into a cloud of irradiated ash and blows into the breeze like a smoky mist. The blackened remnant of Ateyru, wisps passed the still angered Xol. Its inky particles adhering to his armor and clothing and through the Force he can feel it staining his soul as well.

Responding to the commotion, Han, Chewbacca and Dex run out into the clearing with their weapons drawn. Reacting in a similar manner, Booma, Qiin, and Wompit race down the Wayfarer’s gangway as it lowers, rushing to Xol’s side.

By the time they reach him, the Yautja is knelt on the dirt, his sabers dropped on the ground beside him. In his cupped hands, he holds Ateyru’s lightsaber with his head bent down staring at the lifeless, severed arms. Tears fill his eyes for the first time in what feels like several lifetimes. He gently sobs behind his helm, his breath like a harmful vapor he is trying to expel. His mind is flooded with the images of all those he has killed and each one stabs his heart so painfully he feels as though he may die from the assault.

“Xol,” Qiin says as she places her hand on the pauldron of her master. “What has happened?”

“I died, my apprentice. I am dead.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

STAR WARS/PREDATOR: MASTER XOL'S SAGA (PART EIGHT)

After plummeting into the wastes on the surface of Ord Mantell in the class-6 escape pod, Xol spares no time in finding Dex. He knows he has days before the Empire brings their whole fleet to the planet in the wake of what he did to the Super Star Destroyer.

Joined by the young seer Qiin, he goes to the only place he knows to be a haunt of Orlo the Hutt, the Lady Fate Casino in Worlport.

The pair purchases a low cost speeder from a local farmer they happen across and make haste for the capital city.

Xol worries that he may be six years too late, despite what stories Dark Lord Blades told him of Dex’s incarceration…

The dilapidated X-38 speeder, chugs to a halt on the outskirts of Worlport. Its skyline, nearly unchanged since Xol’s last visit, however its skies are teeming with TIE fighter patrols. Stormtroopers can be seen roaming the streets in force and guarding checkpoints entering the bustling metropolis. With a hiss the passenger canopy opens and Xol turns to Qiin.

“Young one, this is not your fight and this is where we must part ways.” Xol says with his pointed finger outstretched.

“No Master Xol,” she refuses. “I can see my path and if I should leave you now, it will result in both our deaths.”

“Then that is our path, there is no use in denying the will of the Force.”

“What complete and utter lies you tell yourself!” she snaps. “You don’t want me along because you think I am too young and inexperienced to be of any use in your search for your friend.”

“How do you know my thoughts Qiin?” Xol says suspiciously as he reaches for his lightsabers.

“It is not as you think Jedi Master!” the young Nautolan insists as she holds out her hands. “I am adept at reading the minds of others, even those that bury their thoughts as well as you. I do not see all of what is offered but I do receive glimpses.”

“Well, in the future, do not intrude on my personal thoughts without permission or I will extinguish our travel arrangement without even a moments notice. Is that clear?”

“You mean you are going to take me with you after all?” she replies, excitedly. “Oh master thank you! I will not let you down, I promise.”

“I trust that you won’t, but in the future refer to me as Xol, I am not your master. Now we must gain entrance to Worlport, go to the Casino and find Dex befor…”

“Dex Kamino?” Qiin interrupts. “Do you mean Dex Kamino?”

“Yes, that was the name he used, how do you know this man?”

“Katarus won me from Orlo the Hutt in a game of Sabacc. Another slave that Orlo lost that night was Dex Kamino. He was kind to me and always knew how to make me laugh even when I was at my worst. He was treated far worse than I, often nursing a fresh new set of wounds every time I saw him.”

“Who won him from Orlo, Qiin? Do you remember?” Xol asks insistently.

“A Neimodian businessman named Mok. Mok Sur Tinn, I believe. He owns a few nightclubs throughout the city. He collects Force sensitives and old Sith artifacts, I know because he offered Orlo a fortune for me on multiple occasions but was turned down each time.”

“Well if you show me the way to this Neimodian, I will take care of the rest.”

“One step at a time Xol, first we must find a way into the city.”

“I have already decided the best course of action to do just that, so if you intend on coming along I suggest you fasten your safety harness and be ready to fight if necessary.”

With a zip of her harness straps tightening, Qiin responds with a smile, “Ready when you are!”

Xol closes the canopy of the speeder and throttles towards a sentry post that lies ahead. Three Imperial Stormtroopers armed with repeating blasters inspect the documentation of all those that pass through their post. A lone officer in her black tunic oversees the operation, punching information into a datapad as each person proceeds passed. The pair approaching in their speeder is waved over by one of the soldiers.

“Identicard please,” the trooper says sternly as they pull alongside him.

“I’m sorry Imperial,” Xol says snidely. “I do not possess an Identicard, will this be sufficient enough?”

Xol reaches to his belt and presents his lightsaber. In shock and panic, the Stormtrooper points his weapon at the vehicle and shouts for the other guards. As they gather around the vehicle with their weapons drawn, Xol concentrates with the Force and prepares himself.

“Foolish Jedi,” the officer says as she approaches from behind her soldiers. “Did you actually think you could intimidate a hardened, battle-ready squad of Imperial soldiers with your antiquated weapon?”

“That was not my intent whatsoever however I did want you to be close enough to hear this,” The Yautja explains as his voice becomes darker and his eyes glow red with energy. “We are Imperial attaches, and it is your personal duty to safeguard our travel throughout the city, clearing us through checkpoints and anything else requested of you. Agreed?”

Under the Jedi’s powerful persuasive trance, the soldiers and their officer repeat Xol’s exact words in unison back to him. The Imperials lower their weapons and abandon the guard post for their nearby speederbikes. Taking up formation around the Yautja’s speeder, Xol instructs them forward to the Lady Fate Casino. In compliance, the two lead Stormtroopers embark leading the pair through chaotic Worlport traffic. With the troopers guiding them through, no guard patrol or checkpoint even pauses to stop them as they travel through the city.

In transit Qiin and Xol converse to pass the time. “Xol,” she asks. “Your actions aboard Katarus’ vessel surprised me, I had assumed the Jedi were incapable of such actions.”

“You’re right, young one. Jedi are.”

“Are you not a Jedi Master?”

“Once I was, and a Dark Jedi knight before that. I have explored the Force and all its facets and now I am forced to become something outside of the teachings of the Jedi and superior to the instruction of the Sith.”

“Will you teach me?”

“As I said young one, I am no longer a Jedi Master. I cannot teach you their ways. Their ways have died in this galaxy, and with them a part of me has perished also.”

“I do not seek any instruction but yours, not the Jedi nor the Sith. I only want to learn from you.”

“Why do you volunteer so readily to follow me down this darkened path Qiin?”

“I know your thoughts Xol, and I can see your path ahead is unclear, always fluctuating within the Force. Even with that uncertainty, I can sense that you are an instrumental figure in the shaping of my destiny. I wish to learn if you still have it in you to teach.”

“Very well Qiin, I still do not understand your reasoning entirely but if you want to learn that badly then I shall take you under my wing. You shall be my apprentice.”

Immensely happy with his decision, she reaches over and hugs his arm tightly, thanking him excessively. Xol can sense great confusion within himself as Qiin clutches to his side. He brushes away the feeling swimming deep inside of him and focuses on the road ahead.

Upon arrival at the Lady Fate Casino some minutes later, Xol and Qiin are helped from their vehicle by valet droids. As the Yautja straightens his ruffled cloak, he waves and simultaneously commands the Imperials to return to their original posts. As they pull away, he transmits a mental command that will explain their absence but not have them remember them ever meeting Qiin or himself.

Sending them and the valets on their way, Xol turns and walks up the stairs of the casino to the front entrance with Qiin following close behind, their long black cloaks fluttering behind them as they climb. As they walk into the building, the profane mix of smoke, alcohol, and the secretions of different races flood the Yautja’s sensitive olfactory. Were it not for the air filter in his helmet, the smell might be twice as pungent.

The pair walks onto the casino floor and before they reach the bar Xol sees a familiar face in the back of the room. It is Booma, the Gungan enforcer of Orlo the Hutt and two other armed guards.

“Qiin wait here,” Xol commands. “I know where to find Dex, but I cannot succeed if I constantly have to look out for you my young apprentice. Stay here and alert me on this commlink if you see anyone coming towards that back area.”

Handing the visibly annoyed Nautolan a communication device, Xol readies his lightsabers and makes his way across the gaming area floor.

“Xol I can help,” Qiin says over the comlink. “I’m no good playing lookout. You need me in there with you to sense their thoughts.”

“No, you must stay where you are, and only use this link for emergencies like I instructed you. Is that clear?”

“Yes Xol, I understand,” Qiin responds with a pout before cutting transmission.

As the Yautja nears the sealed door, the sturdy purple Gungan notices Xol and does a double take. Shocked to see him, he nervously fumbles for his blaster holstered on his hip. Noticing their leader’s nervousness, the two guards standing to either side of the Gungan draw their weapons as well. The trio takes quick aim and fire on the approaching Yautja.

As the shots ring out and sail through the air towards him, Xol deploys his lightsabers and deflects the blasts harmlessly away from him and into banks of gambling terminals on his right side. The outbreak of combat sends patrons running for the doors and alerts guards from all over the main gaming floor to Xol’s presence.

“Yousa not being dead Jedis!” Booma shouts at Xol. “Thatsa bein’ perfecto wit’ meesa. Isa wantin’ to be killin’ yousa meeself for longin’ time.”

“So what’s stopping you Booma?” Xol taunts. “Too scared of Orlo I suppose.”

“Meesa not scared, yousa shouldn’ be bein’ scared,” the purple thug replies, trying to hide his fear. “Yousa is surrounded Jedis, no escapin’ the ouch time this time.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Xol growls as he runs headlong at the armed trio, lightsabers blazing.

As he nears the dark purple Gungan at their center, Xol does not stop, instead he chooses to phase through him using his abilities. Like walking through a mist, the Yautja glides passed the Gungan and once on the other side, at his attacker’s backs he slashes with his two blades. Their crimson blades cut down the two other guards with ease leaving the bewildered Gungan standing frozen stiff from fear. With the hum of Xol’s blade just behind his haillu, Booma quivers with terror.

“I will let you live purplish soft meat if you help me get my friend back and kill your boss in the meantime.”

“Meesa can’t be killin’ boss Orlo, Meesa gettin' crunched for that by bounty hunters.”

“I can guarantee that if you don’t help me, you will be how did you put it? Crunched, right here and now.”

“Fine meesa help,” The Gungan complies. “Only if’n yousa can promisin’ meesa that meesa bein’ kept safe from crunchin’ wit’ yousa.”

“I never make a promise I cannot keep, however I can ensure your safety as best I can with all my abilities as long as you do what I say when I say it. Do we have an agreement soft meat?”

“Meesa agree, now what’n yousa wantin’ meesa to do first?”

“Call off the other guards and make something up about what happened here while I hide behind the door.” Xol commands. “And if you try to double-cross me, I will destroy you.”

“No problem, meesa takin’ care of dis. Just yousa better getting’ hidin’!”

Without opening the sealed door behind him, Xol phases through it and takes refuge in the hallway on the other side. He can hear boisterous laughter from down the hall. Anxious to get moving, he listens through the door to the conversation outside.

“What’s going on Booma?” a guard says, his voice partly muffled by the door. “We heard blaster fire and had reports that a lightsaber wielding attacker was going crazy on the floor.”

“No, No, No, thisa bein’ big misunderstanding!” Booma explains. “Darth’n Maul’s losin’ Sabacc game bombad. Heesa gettin’ ooberdrunkin and takin’ himsa’s raging out on meesa and killin’ Lim and Pokk. Meester Sur Tinn came and retrievin’ himsa and gonna pay all the damages to Orlo okeeday?”

“I hate it when Maul gets that way,” the guard replies. “Why do we even let that Zabrak menace into our casino? Where are they now Booma?”

“I takin’ care of it, theysa leavin’ da floor, no causin’ any more trouble today. I sendin’ them back to Boss Orlo’s suite. Theysa should be calmin’ down enough by mornin’ meesa tinks.”

“Alright Booma, nicely handled. We had better get back, we will see you later for some Dejarik and ales though right?”

“Yousa bet, and yousa better bring yoursan credits this time, Lim and Pokk owed meesa big payday and lookin’ what be happenin’ to them.”

“You have one sick sense of humor, you old son of a Mynock!”

The group laughs as they disperse. The guard’s voices become quieter as they move away, hopefully returning to their posts. Curious, Xol uses his comlink to contact Qiin who is still in the casino.

“Qiin, have they returned to their stations?”

“Yes Xol, I left with the other patrons as to not draw too much attention to myself and the guards are just letting us back in now.” She replies.

“Good thinking young one, just keep a watchful eye from the bar. I will be working my way through to Dex shortly and this place is going to erupt with activity so I need your eyes and your foresight.”

“As you wish Xol,” Qiin answers before she shuts off her comm.

Xol closes his channel and opens the access door in front of him. On the other side is Booma, waiting impatiently glancing from side to side. With the door open, the Gungan steps through and walks down the hallway, waving Xol onward as he reaches the end where another sealed door is located. The Yautja stealthily approaches from behind and places his lightsabers onto his belt. Reaching out with the Force he can sense the occupants of the room beyond the door. He feels Dex’s familiar presence, Orlo, two others, and finally with great surprise he senses the dark side presence of Darth Maul.

“So your story is true, Darth Maul is here?” Xol asks.

“Of coursa, Darth’n Maul bein’ here,” Booma responds. “Heesa was some big time hero in Empire because of killin’ yousa. Now heesa enemy of the Emperor but good friends with meesa boss Orlo.”

“I thought I had killed him on Tatooine, but apparently I was wrong just as the Empire has been about my death.”

“Meesa wishin’ I could see the look on himsa’s face when yousa be walkin’ into dat room”

“You just might Gungan soft meat. You just might.” Xol says as he raises his hands palms open to the door. “You seem pretty calm considering I am about to kill your master and rescue my friend.”

“Boss Orlo bein’ a blue pile of Bantha poodoo, heesa just payin’ meesa well for a slave. Besides, yousa sparin’ meesa life, and even though meesa bein’ scoundrel, meesa honor his life debts. Yousa stuck wit’ me Jedis whether yousa wantin’ it or not.”

“Good to know where you stand soft meat, now stand back or you might get hurt.”

Xol focuses strongly on the door in front of him and within a second it collapses in on itself and launches into the room. The metal projectile creates a gaping hole in the rear wall of the gaming room where Orlo and his guests are gathered. The hole itself leads to the exterior of the building, the sounds of street traffic and screaming pedestrians carry through it and into the room.

Without any hesitation, Darth Maul ignites his dual bladed lightsaber and flips across the table landing directly in front of Xol. In reflex the Yautja draws his blades and brings them up to parry the Sith’s first attack. As the pair lock sabers, Orlo chortles at the melee, clapping his slimy hands in delight.

“How can you be alive?” Maul shouts, “I killed you on Tatooine!”

“I can say the same thing to you Sith Lord.” Xol says cheekily

With an angry scream, Darth Maul breaks his grapple with the Yautja and charges with a flurry of saber attacks. Though the Sith’s technique has improved since their last battle, Xol can still counter each assault and when he receives an opening, he stretches outward through the Force and grips his opponents dual bladed saber. With a twist of his hand, the hilt of Darth Maul’s lightsaber crushes inward and rains its contents on the ground. With the shattering of the lens assembly and the exposure of its focusing crystal, the weapons ceases to function and the blade dissipates instantly. Aghast at what has transpired, the Sith stares in shock at the pieces of his prize weapon lying in his hands. While he is distracted and distraught, Xol exerts a push on the defeated warrior that has him fly across the room and impact hard against to the wall, crumpling in a heap on the floor. Orlo’s laughter quickly halts as he sees the infamous Sith is rendered unconscious.

Now, with no distractions, Xol can focus on the others in the room. He can see Dex standing next to a Neimodian whom he can only infer is Mok Sur Tinn in full armor, with his blaster rifle in his hands. Across the table sits a dark skinned human in upper class attire and finally a portly Toydarian with a well manufactured IG model bodyguard standing behind him. Without saying a word, the Toydarian gathers his chips, nods to Xol, and along with his droid exits out the hole in the wall. When Mok Sur Tinn tries to do the same, he can hear the whine of Dex’s blaster warming up as it readies a bolt. The clone has pointed the rifle at the Neimodian and has a blaster in his offhand pointed at Orlo.

“You’re late Xol,” Dex says with joviality in his voice. “Now, I have been waitin’ a long time for this Tinn, pray to your Neimo gods because you’ll be meeting them soon.”

“No Dex, wait!” the Yautja exclaims with his hand stretched out in protest. “We can use him.”

“Are you out of your Jedi mind Xol?” Dex replies angrily. “This bastard has kept me imprisoned for nearly six years and you want to negotiate with him?”

“Not that piece of trash, Dex. We only need Orlo. His Imperial contacts will allow us to get out of this place.”

“What makes you think I would help the likes of you?” The portly Hutt replies through his protocol droid.

“Because Orlo,” Xol continues. “I can make it so Tinn is no longer competition for you on Ord Mantell, and in exchange for that and your own life you will provide us with the means to leave this system safely, my companion Wompit and the Gungan called Booma freed of their enslavement to you, and any supplies we require. It is either that or we kill you both and let the Empire have full reign here. It makes little difference to me.”

“You surprise me Master Jedi,” Orlo laughs. “I expected you to kill me for my treacherous acts against you six years ago but instead you have become a more fearsome breed of scum than you ever were before. Worthy enough I think to be called my friend!”

“Quit wasting my time slug meat, is it a deal or not Orlo?” the Yautja insists. “Because I have other ways of negotiating if you would prefer?”

With a tilt of his head, Xol begins to channel his powers into the Hutt, and as his eyes glare at the corpulent, blue, crime boss, Orlo can feel himself being choked and lifted off of his plush sedan chair.

“I accept…your…deal,” the Hutt chokes. “Now…release…me.”

Xol turns his head away from Orlo and allows his immense sluggish body to flop heavily back into his seat. Once the crime lord has regained his composure he takes a puff from his hookah and says, “You have a harsh way of making a deal but, I like it so I humbly accept your offer.”

“A wise choice Hutt,” Xol replies pleased. “Dex, gather up and restrain Maul and Mok Sur Tinn. We have a lot of work to do.”

TO BE CONTINUED…