Shortly after opening the holocron of the legendary, Tyvokka, Xol departs Rakata Prime aboard his new found Wayfarer transport.
Accompanied by his new ally, a long lost commando of the Old Republic, he sets out deeper into the Outer Rim Territories, guided by the prophetic, holographic, recordings of a long dead Wookie Jedi.
Apart from the prophecies, Tyvokka's holocron teaches young Xol much of the Force itself, new techniques that he may be able to utilize in the near future.
That future for him is fraught with peril, and uncertainty…
Apart from the prophecies, Tyvokka's holocron teaches young Xol much of the Force itself, new techniques that he may be able to utilize in the near future.
That future for him is fraught with peril, and uncertainty…
High into orbit above Rakata Prime, the transports hulking frame begins to creak and groan, its lack of use for several years beginning to show. Xol, now fully recovered from his trial on the planet, sits in a meditative pose on the floor of the cargo bay, Tyvokka's holocron activated in front of him, the holographic Jedi's image sitting in an identical pose.
"Concentrate pupil," the Jedi's visage says in a soothing, patient voice. "The Force allows us to see into the future only at its allowance, quiet your mind and it will grant you an easier journey."
Xol's eyes clench tighter with intense focus, boxes of cargo and other loose debris, begin to levitate from the floor. The objects swirl around him, like planets orbiting around a star. Their rotation remains constant for a matter of minutes, before increasing in speed. Their speed grows more and more rapid until they are nothing but a blur surrounding Xol. The Yautja begins to rise up in the air, maintaining his sitting position, into the center of his Force-driven tempest. A few meters off the ground, Xol's eyes snap open, their red intensity now replaced with brilliant blue light. His mouth begins to slowly open, and a voice not his own, echoing through him, rises up, and begins to speak.
"Dark, the Force must be now; if you are the only one the Force can choose to connect me with in my time of great need." The mysterious old voice says before continuing. "Dark one, help us you can, none can stand against Vader, not many Jedi left, there are. Seek Master Kuro you must, last of us, she is. Well hidden, she must be, in order to avoid the Empire. Great knowledge, she has, in unorthodox ways of the Force, and teach you, she will. Aboard the Star Destroyer the path to her is..."
The voice's speech is disrupted, as Xol is snapped to consciousness by the sound of blaster fire from behind him. He and the objects that surrounded him in his meditative state slam to the floor, sending debris every which way as boxes break from the fall. As soon as he touches ground, Xol whips around towards the source of the weapons fire, his lightsaber gauntlet ignited with a crack as he assumes a defensive posture. His tense posture soon gives way to a more relaxed one as Xol realizes that the shot fired came from Dex, who is facing away from the Yautja, standing atop Xol's fighter, his sidearm still drawn.
"Dex," Xol yells down the cargo bay, "What are you shooting at?"
"Rats, sir." Dex says, as he turns toward Xol and jumps down from the nose of the fighter. "Bloody big Rakatan rats the size of your head, not bad eatin' mind you but absolutely vicious to anything wired. Whole ship's swarming with em, I blast every one I come across, but we could really use some Mouse droids to come through and wipe them all out, sir."
“Well in the future Dex,” Xol explains, his voice reverberating across the near empty cargo bay. “Kill them with a blade when I am meditating nearby.”
Xol quickly turns away from Dex’s direction and walks back towards the holocron, the claws on his toes clicking and clanking against the floor with every step. Having worn only his loincloth during meditation, Xol begins to collect his garments and armor that he had set out neatly next to Tyvokka’s projection spot. As Xol begins to don his armor, he asks the holocron flickering before him, “Master Tyvokka, what was the first premonition you recited to me again?”
Upon Xol’s prompting, Tyvokka begins to speak, “Where the shadow splits into multiple parts, high above the secret crystals, a new darkness will come, and find knowledge of all things in the blood of his enemies.” Upon the completion of the message, the holocron immediately powers off, Tyvokka’s image dissipating into golden, flickering particles that scatter outward in all directions.
Dismayed, Xol runs to the holocron. Picking it up in his hand, he shakes it madly, desperately trying to reactivate it to no avail. Frustrated, he throws it into the open white box it had originally emerged from. Still aggravated, Xol resumes placing on his final pieces of armor, including his helmet and cloak before asking aloud, “Master, did you hear Tyvokka’s prophecy, does your program have any idea what it means?”
“Not entirely, it was atypically cryptic for Master Tyvokka, probably some Jedi precaution should the information be viewed by people such as us.” Master Blades voice replies, from the lightsaber on Xol’s belt. “Although, he did mention secret crystals, there are caves on Ilum filled with crystals, akin to ours, that the Jedi used to use in the construction of their lightsabers, it was not a well known system, and it is close to our present location, perhaps it is a good place to start. Besides, if you are supposed to equip the Jedi with what they need to start their order again, you will need several of those crystals.”
“Hey Dex,” Xol shouts down the cargo bay. “Can you get this ship to a system called Ilum?”
“She’s a good ship sir,” Dex hollers back from the cockpit of the patrol fighter where he has been working. “I’ll take the helm, and have us there in no time at all, sir.”
Dex hops from the fighter and hastily runs to an adjacent hatch, Xol using the Force to increase his speed, makes up the distance and follows on his heels. The halls and doorways still smell somewhat of the Rakatan swamp, but save the odd exposed wire dangling from the ceiling, it has remained in immaculate shape. Xol bends slightly to move through the human-sized doorway into the pilot’s compartment where he can see Dex seated in the forward pilot station, flicking a series of switches. The Yautja sits down at the slightly raised command station behind the pilot position, and begins strapping himself into the chair.
Swiveling the pilots chair around, Dex turns and looks up to Xol before asking, “Sir, the navigational information inside the databanks seems to be out of date and is unable to find the planet Ilum. What are your orders?”
“Input my program into the main computer, just like on Rakata.” Master Blades’ voice insists, from underneath Xol’s cloak.
“Very well, my master, I shall do as asked.” Xol replies, reaching for the lightsaber from his belt. “Dex, I am inputting new star chart information, try to locate Ilum again.”
Xol, places his master’s lightsaber on top of the command console, triggering the holographic emitter to open and activate but instead of displaying an image, the command console begins to display a message reading, “Transfer in progress.”
A few moments later, the emitter closes then, just as quickly, re-opens this time, displaying just a facial image of Master Blades which begins to talk, “Lord Xol, as before with your fighter, my holocron’s information has been uploaded into these databanks, if you require any additional information, simply enable the saber’s emitter, and say my name, the rest you already know.”
“Navigation has acquired hyperspace coordinates for Ilum sir,” Dex says from the forward console. “Shall I make the jump to lightspeed?”
“Yes Dex, engage the hyperdrive, continue with the hunt.” Xol responds with a hidden smile.
With an abrupt shunt, the Wayfarer transport maneuvers into position, and with a streak, plunges forward into hyperspace. The whirlpool of blue and white, just beyond the transparisteel of the cockpit shines through, seeming to dance across the dimly lit interior.
After a few minutes, Dex again revolves around to face Xol in his chair, when he comes to rest he says, “Lord Xol, sir. We won’t arrive for several hours, only one of us has to remain on the command while in hyperspace.”
“Very well commando,” Xol replies in agreement. “I will retire to my quarters, should there be any problems, use internal communications to contact me.”
“Will do sir,” Dex says affirmatively, as he revolves back around in his chair to face the forward pilot’s console.
Xol upon leaving the command, proceeds down the hall and enters his room. After setting his, armor, weapons, and helmet down on a small table that sits in the room next to his bunk, he sits in the center of the open floor and begins to meditate.
Hours pass, and with a shudder, the Wayfarer exits hyperspace. Almost immediately afterwards, a crackle comes over the intercom in Xol’s room before Dex’s voice starts to exclaim from it, “Lord Xol, sir. You are needed in the command immediately.”
Xol rises to his feet, grabbing his helmet and arm gauntlets on the way out of his room. Walking into command, he is met by an unusual sight, three ships around the orbit of Ilum, the lead ship, a large grey hulk, triangular in shape, twenty times larger than his. Its hull is lined with armament so formidable it could only be a warship. The two lesser ships are similar in configuration but are covered in several dome-shaped constructs and are still better equipped than the Wayfarer.
“Who are they Dex?” Xol questions, his eyes scanning back, and forth, at the horizon beyond the cockpit.
Before Dex can answer, the voice of Xol’s former master sounds from the console’s speaker, “Those are Imperial Star Destroyers, and they’ll blow you into tiny little pieces if you show any aggressive posturing whatsoever.”
“Well then, I suggest Lord Xol sir, that we make the jump back into hyperspace and escape.” Dex says, confidently.
Before Xol can respond, the conversation is again interrupted by Master Blades’ voice. “It’s no good trooper, those smaller ones are Interdictor cruisers, they are fitted with gravity well projectors, and they can disable anyone’s ability to jump to hyperspace without their permission. It appears my former apprentice, that they have blockaded Ilum for some reason.”
A blinking light begins to flash on the right console next to Xol and Dex. Dex looking uncertain turns to Xol and says, “Sir, it appears they are attempting to hail us. Should we answer them sir?”
Xol does not respond for several seconds, and then just as Dex is about to ask his question again, Xol replies, “I will answer them; my master has taught me that these great constructions of Vader’s empire are nothing but mere playthings next to the all powerful Force. We shall see what they want.”
Xol reaches across Dex and presses the still flashing button, an official sounding voice, in mid sentence begins speaking, “…I repeat, unidentified vessel, this is Captain Salus, of the Imperial Star Destroyer, Reclamation, identify yourself or be fired upon. The Ilum system is under blockade by order of Emperor Vader, any attempt to leave the system will result in detainment and the confiscation of your craft.”
“Pardon the interjection, Captain.” Xol interrupts. “I am Lord Xol, and if I were you, I would think twice about even so much as charging your weapons, let alone firing them.”
“My sincerest apologies, Lord Xol,” Captain Salus says with an air of condescension. “What, are you the lord of exactly, besides perhaps that dilapidated ship of yours?”
“The Dark Side of the Force, captain.” Xol says, anger, boiling up in his throat. “Allow me passage or I will destroy you!”
“I am sorry, but lord or not, I am afraid without proper identification; I have no choice, but to carry out my orders.” Salus replies before terminating the communication signal.
“They are charging weapons, and gravity projectors on the other two destroyers are active.” Dex says, his eyes darting between the flashing displays on his console.
“Take no violent action Dex, I will deal with this imbecile that impedes our mission,” Xol says as he turns for the exit of the cockpit. “I am taking the fighter, once I am clear, take as much evasive action as necessary, but I doubt they’ll land a shot.”
“You’re as mad as a rabid Gundark sir, if you think that you stand a chance in that fighter.” Dex exclaims, while hitting a series of controls and piloting throttles.
Xol exits the cockpit and using the Force to open all the hatches in front of him, he quickly makes his way to his fighter.
Warning lights flash, as the cargo bay opens like the gaping maw of some great beast. Xol’s fighter rushes out from behind the protective airlock shield, plunging headlong, into the vastness of space.
“They are firing ion cannons directly at you sir,” Dex says, his voice blaring over the fighter’s communication system. “Your shields won’t withstand that level of firepower; those blasts will drain all your onboard power and leave you adrift.”
“Don’t worry about me soldier,” Xol says, his voice crackling back over the line. “Just keep on my tail and trust in the Force.”
The fearless Dark Jedi flies his fighter at full speed towards the blasts, the Wayfarer transport following behind in close pursuit. The green bolts of ion cannon fire, streak across the black of space coming ever closer to the two craft.
Anger begins to course through Xol’s veins; he is angry, angry that this impudent little piece of soft meat would dare challenge him, he is Gr'rit'Xol, last of his clan and Dark Jedi Knight, he will not be defeated so easily. His rage flows through him stopping at the palm of his now, outstretched hand. Channeling the Dark Side, Xol diverts the ion blasts outward, making them careen right into the two Interdictor Star Destroyers that are on either side of the Reclamation. The vessels crackle with the energy of the blasts, their power disabled
“Lord Xol, that’s it, you’ve done it,” Dex yells happily over the speaker. “Those gravity wells are down, we can jump to hyperspace!”
“Hold your position Dex, this hunt is not over, this soft meat Salus has underestimated his prey and has been stung badly.” Xol responds, the anger still swimming in his voice. “We still require what is on Ilum, this Captain will either know now, that I am telling the truth, or he will die for his ignorance.”
The heads up display screen in Xol’s fighter begins flashing with a graphic indicating an incoming communiqué from the Reclamation. With the flick of a toggle adjacent to the screen, the communication line is opened and a video image of a tense Imperial officer appears, in the background, another officer dressed in grey can be seen being dragged away by two soldiers in white armor similar to Dex’s. Once the individual being dragged away is clear of the line of sight for the video feed, the young officer begins to speak, “Lord Xol I presume?”
“You presume correctly Captain…” Xol pauses awaiting the officer’s reply.
“Commander Tykon. I am acting captain of the Imperial Star Destroyer Reclamation,” Tykon says, with intensity and pride.
“Where is Captain Salus?” Xol inquires.
“Captain Salus has been removed from command in lieu of recent events, I will liaise with you from now on,” the nervous commander replies. “We were unaware of any Imperial operatives working in the Outer Rim.”
“An honest mistake commander, which is why I have made my actions purely defensive,” Xol says gruffly, knowing the tone will keep the young officer off-balance. “Despite a couple of temporarily disabled ships, you remain for the most part, quite strong, able to repel just about any attacker in this region.”
“Yes, that much is true, and I must apologize for Captain Salus firing upon you sir,” Tykon replies, his voice shaky. “Our Interdictors will return to normal functionality within a matter of days, in the meantime please accept our hospitality, and dock with us. I trust that word of this incident will not find its way back to the Emperor.”
“I do not know what incident you speak of, commander.” Xol says sarcastically. “My pilot and I will come aboard and acquire some provisions for our mission.”
“Excellent sir,” Tykon replies, his eyes beaming with excitement. “We anxiously await your arrival; docking procedures will be uploaded to you and your pilot in the Wayfarer transport.”
The commander’s image disappears as communication ends, the display reverting to its standard configuration of black with blue lettering. The tugging force of a tractor beam, grabs hold of the diminutive patrol fighter, slowly it moves down the hull of the Reclamation until it is engulfed in the massive shadow of the underside. The docking bay opens, its outer airlock doors slowly parting to the sides allowing the two vessels pass in between them. Once inside the humongous hangar, the vessels are lowered into place and secured on landing pads beside several other ships and fighters. Warning sirens still sound, as the docking bays doors reseal beyond the semi-transparent safety shields.
The alarms cease, as a still quiet falls over the hangar, before the plodding of heavy footsteps in unison can be heard echoing throughout the chamber. A platoon of soldiers in white armor march in formation across the cold steel, splitting into two halves, with a path down the middle, as they come within feet of the Wayfarer transport, quickly following walking in the newly made pathway is a young man in a black dress uniform and four individuals wearing identical black robes. Xol opens the hatch to his fighter upon unhooking his pilot’s harness, collecting his equipment before hopping down from the cockpit, despite the fact that a descent ladder was attached to his craft upon docking. He senses the presence of the Dark Side as he walks towards the darkly-clad figures.
The man in uniform looking up at the towering Yautja says, “Lord Xol, I am Commander Tykon, we spoke earlier as you recall, and these four gentlemen are Sith knights Vosh, Gann, Chorbek, and Ulatt. I formally welcome you aboard you aboard the Reclamation, I and my men are at your disposal.”
“Thank you for the warm welcome commander,” Xol says with confidence, all the while feeling unease around these four Tykon calls Sith knights. “My pilot and I won’t be requiring anything more than provisions and some rest, as well as any information you have on this planet beneath us, Ilum.”
“As I said, we are at your disposal my lord, we shall do our best.” Tykon says with a smirk of pride on his face. “Now, Lord Xol, you had spoken of a pilot accompanying you, yet I see no one.”
“He is securing our ship, commander.” Xol snaps back firmly, ensuring that the young officer’s snide remark does not go unchallenged. “I am carrying very valuable equipment aboard that innocuous looking vessel and none of it can be left unsecured without total lockdown, your security is superior, I am sure, but, the Emperor will not accept failure.”
“I understand entirely my lord, I had seen him strangle a man from light years away with his Sith powers for failing to complete a routine scouting mission.” Tykon replies in agreement, his voice now more subdued. “I was just a junior cadet at the time.”
Pressing the side his helmet to enable its internal communicator, Xol summons Dex, choosing to refer to him by his serial number Dx-1165, keeping up the ruse of a command structure in front of the Imperial officer and his entourage. A few moments later, helmet on, with his weapons holstered, and wearing a dress cape over his armor, accompanied by red kamas and a matching rank pauldron on his left shoulder, he walks down the transport's exit ramp and walks beside his much taller Dark Jedi compatriot.
“DX-1165 reporting for duty as you requested, Lord Xol, sir!” Dex says with his hand raised in salute.
“Very good 1165,” Xol says assertively, making sure not to turn towards the soldier as he speaks, maintaining his illusion of superior rank. “You will accompany me and Commander Tykon until such time it is that you are dismissed, is that understood commando?”
“Perfectly sir, I am at your command.” Dex states, his head lowered slightly in submission.
Tykon, Xol, Dex and the four Sith knights proceed to the hangars exit making their way inside the first hallway of the ship. Upon their exit, the trooper formation reassembles and marches through the same exit, their footsteps in perfect synchronization as they go.
Tykon and Xol walking in front, begins to talk as they snake their way through the halls of the star destroyer.
“Is that a real Clone Commando Lord Xol?” the young officer’s voice peaked with intrigue. “I have only read about them in textbooks on the Old Republic at the academy.”
“Yes, commander, he has been a loyal companion and an even more loyal soldier to me for many, many years.” Xol replies, his voice still carrying a dominant tone. “He will respond only to commands I give him, but I assure you commander, he will not cause a disturbance aboard your ship.”
“A great reassurance, thank you my lord.” Tykon answers, the anxiety in his voice seeming to rise before he continues to speak. “Forgive my incessant questions my lord, but I have never met a Sith knight of your race, you are quite formidable, larger even, than most Wookiees, what do your people call themselves?”
“I come from a race of hunters, known as the Yautja, I killed many creatures before I even spoke my first words, and have slaughtered countless since in the service of the Emperor.” Xol gloats, his bravado successfully intimidating his meek host with his half-truth.
“I see,” Tykon stammers, “You are truly an asset to us, Lord Xol, I am honored to have you aboard.”
The procession continues through several more halls and up a special service lift until finally coming to a stop at the command bridge. The bridge itself is a bustling environment with command staff manning displays in a lower area while a causeway crosses above them where senior officers can go to an observation station just in front of large transparisteel windows, Ilum, with its snowy surface, gleams like a pearl in the distance just beyond them.
Waving off his honour guard, Tykon leads Xol, Dex, and the four knights, across the causeway towards the captain’s station, junior officers, staring up at the formidable Yautja as he walks above them. His hands folded behind his back Tykon stares out towards the planet and asks, “Lord Xol, what exactly is your mission in this sector?”
“Do not forget your place Commander Tykon, my mission is of the utmost importance to the Emperor and must be kept secret.” Xol replies, tersely. “What I can tell you is that I must find a cave on Ilum’s surface that holds crystalline deposits, rare ones that greatly interest the Emperor. Do you know of such a cave Tykon?”
“Yes in fact, I do, my lord.” The young commander responds with a smile. “I was just about to send a squad of snowtroopers down with the knights on a mission they must accomplish in the same area.”
“How fortunate for me,” Xol says, amused. “If they were not scheduled to depart immediately, I would like to offer the use of my transport for the mission, after my pilot and I resupply and rest for a time.”
“Such devotion you have, Lord Xol. You would offer up your own ship in service of the Empire? I shall of course allow you the necessary time to rest and recuperate before departure on this mission,” Tykon replies, seemingly impressed by the gesture. “I will have one of my security liaisons show you to temporary quarters and have a droid bring you refreshment within a half of an hour, if anything is not to your liking, let me know, I shall have it dealt with personally.
“Many thanks commander,” Xol says with his head lowered in obligatory respect. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we shall accept your gracious hospitality and retire for a time.”
Escorted by two security officers, Xol and Dex are led through a labyrinth of hallways and secured, locked doors until they finally arrive at their rooms, which conveniently are placed side by side with one another. With a salute, the security escorts dismiss themselves, leaving the Dark Jedi and his Clone Commando counterpart to settle into their rooms. Moments later, a glossy, black RA-7 protocol droid enters the room carrying a tray of assorted food rations and containers of water. The droid sets the tray down, and exits the room after a pat of gratitude on the shoulder from Dex. After its departure, Xol waves his hand towards the open portal, closing and locking the mechanical door instantly.
“DX-1165, I need you to listen very carefully,” Xol transmits telepathically. “They may be monitoring this room electronically, so I will speak to you through your mind, do not be alarmed. In order to ensure our escape after our mission is complete, you must find a way to sabotage this vessel. With the support ships still recovering from my attack, the Reclamation is our only obstacle in leaving this system without being pursued. Answer me by removing your helmet for yes, and adjusting it slightly for no.”
Dex then removes his helmet, a half smile on his face, a newly ignited determination in his eyes. “Sir,” he inquires, “it has been some time since I was aboard a capital ship and I am not very tired, do I have permission to explore? Stretch my legs out a bit?”
“Of course DX-1165, you are dismissed, I must rest now,” Xol explains whilst removing his armor and cloak, without removing his helmet, gauntlets, and lightsaber. “Wake me in four hours trooper, Commander Tykon is patient, but I do not want to test his patience.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Dex says before exiting the room.
Four hours pass and Xol is awakened by a chime coming from his room door. “Enter!” he says, still groggy from sleep. “The lock is not engaged.”
With a hiss of pressure, the door opens, sliding into the wall. Dex steps through the doorway and comes to attention before speaking, “DX-1165 reporting as ordered sir, shall I inform Commander Tykon that we wish to depart?”
“Yes, do inform the commander, trooper,” Xol replies back firmly, “unless of course, you have more exploring to do?”
Understanding his master’s innuendo, Dex replies, “Yes sir, I have completed my exploration of this wondrous ship.”
“Very good DX,” Xol responds with a nod, “tell Commander Tykon that we shall rendezvous with him in the hangar, there we will load up his troops and you can start your pre-flight, is that understood?”
“Sir, understood, sir!” Dex responds, a salute snapping to the side of his head.
After relaying the message and allowing Xol to re-don his armor, the pair makes their way to the hangar, where they are met by Tykon, his four Sith knights, and a squad of a dozen heavily armed snowtroopers. Once Dex allows them access to the loading ramp, they begin moving their equipment onto the Wayfarer transport.
Overseeing the loading of the craft, Tykon turns to Xol and says, “My lord, these men, will assist you in your mission whatever way they can.”
Sensing fear in the commander, Xol inquires, “Commander Tykon, why are the men so heavily armed? Are you expecting trouble down there?”
“Not at all my lord,” Tykon quickly replies, “I just felt that the success of this mission is paramount, not to mention the indigenous Gorgodon can be quite the messy business without heavy firepower.”
“I understand completely commander,” Xol says feigning reassurance, still sensing great fear in Tykon, “I shall do what I can to minimize the loss of any of your men while they are under my command.”
“Of course you will my lord, the men feel quite privileged to be under your leadership.” The young officer responds, his voice slightly wavering.
Once all of the troop’s equipment is loaded and secured, Tykon privately speaks with the four cloaked Sith before allowing them to board the ship. With a nod of appreciation towards the commander, Xol turns and boards his Wayfarer, the gangway rising behind him, the air release of its lifts fluttering his long, black cloak as he walks.
Once aboard he makes his way to the command area for departure, upon entering, he sees Dex at his usual station but also waiting for him are the four knights, their hoods still drawn up over their heads so far that only the lower halves of their faces can be seen.
“Master Xol,” one of the black figures asks, “How is it that you are trained in the ways of the Sith, yet the academy on Coruscant does not accept non-human applicants.
“Correction, you impudent whelp,” Xol retorts, displeased by the line of questioning, “It does not openly accept non human applicants, but the Emperor could not allow someone of my talents to go untrained, so he had me trained, but only if he could use me as his instrument, and no other, thus the reason I do not cower before a soft meat officer like Tykon as you do. The Dark Side has taught me that no one is before Vader, his command and only his, I will follow. I expect no more of these foolish questions lest you wish to be cleaved in two and sent out the nearest airlock as chum for the Mynocks!”
“As you wish my lord,” the figure says, his head held in shame. “I apologize if I have offended you, it is in our training to seek out the Force-sensitives masquerading as Sith, namely, hidden Jedi.”
Xol, enraged, locks eyes with the Sith knights and says, “Would a Jedi do this?”
Once more, the Yautja taps into his anger to amplify his connection to the Force. With a thought, he begins to choke the four knights, who despite their own attunement to the Dark Side, seem unable to stop his attack. They rise up into the air, their hands around their throats attempting to fight the grip that has been placed upon them. With a turn to face away from the struggling knights, Xol ceases his assault and allows the four to drop to the deck of the flight area.
Coughing, his words strained, one of the knights speaks, “Lord Xol, we shall never question your loyalties again.”
“See that you don’t,” Xol replies, anger still in his voice, “Do yourselves a favor, we are about to make our descent to the surface, strap yourselves in.”
The four do as they are told and seat themselves where they can, pulling down their hoods, they reveal themselves finally. Xol takes notice that all are surprisingly quite young, human, and share no uniform appearance besides their attire. The one called Vosh seems to speak for them, and brash is his speech, he is very pale with long, black hair that comes down to the middle of his back, and the soft meat females probably find him attractive based on his facial symmetry, his skull would make a fine trophy, Xol thinks to himself. Gann is smaller, with short, dark hair and facial hair which he seems to have grown to appear older. The third, Chorbek is darker in skin color, and totally bald, he has instead decided to replace his lack of hair with intricate, detailed, tattoos in the same style as Xol, indicating a strong threshold for pain. Finally, the largest of the group, is Ulatt, even for soft meat he seems formidable, a fine prey. His hair a light blonde almost white, shaved down until he is almost bald, offset by his well manicured, long, blonde moustache and goatee.
Shortly after the Sith do as they are told and lock themselves in, the Wayfarer begins to breach the atmosphere of Ilum, the tiny freighter shuddering as it pierces through. Despite the turbulence, Dex seems quite comfortable on the controls occasionally making an adjustment on the descent path. Within a few minutes the ship successfully navigates passed the outer atmosphere and into the high altitude above the surface of Ilum. Clouds race by the windows as they make a steady decline towards the planet below. Moments later, Dex lands the ship atop a high cliff, its weight shifting slightly before finally coming to rest. The front window reveals nothing but whistling, wintry winds and dense packed snow and ice; in the distance the ruins of a structure can be seen, almost completely shrouded by the blowing snowfall.
Within seconds of Dex lowering the ramp into the thick snow outside, the snowtroopers immediately begin offloading their equipment and arming themselves with a plethora of weapons, including the components for a tripod mounted E-Web heavy blaster. Soon afterwards, Xol emerges accompanied by the four Sith. Dex, at the request of his Yautja comrade is staying with the ship, two snowtroopers stay as well, assigned to guard the vessel.
With the remaining ten troopers taking the lead, the band of Imperials and Xol embark towards the ruined building ahead. Once closer, they can see that it once was a great temple, an immense structure dedicated to the Jedi Order, now reduced to crumbling rock.
The snowtrooper on point waves an all clear before announcing, “I have found a way into the crystal caves, the support columns have held and there doesn’t seem to be any danger of a collapse.”
A snowtrooper with an orange pauldron on his shoulder indicating his senior rank orders his soldiers forward with a wave of his hand. The group moves towards the opening and one-by-one makes their way inside. Xol going last, should have the most difficulty due to his size, but much to the surprise of the rest of the group, he maneuvers his way through the narrow pass as elegantly as a snake moves through grass.
Once inside, the party is treated to a fantastic sight, large spires of black rock, shining with illuminated crystals, stretching up into the ceiling so far that it surpasses normal vision and plunges into the unknown black above. A short distance into the cavern, an upward, spiral bridge like path of natural origin, possibly even man made, lies before them and seems to lead further inside the cavern.
“Commander, lead these men up that bridge and report anything anomalous you see back to us, Lord Xol and ourselves will remain here guarding the entrance.” Vosh commands.
With a salute of confirmation, the commander along with his troops make haste towards the bridge as they move along it at quickened pace until they disappear from sight entirely.
A few minutes later, while Xol and the other wait at the entrance, a crackled message comes through on Vosh’s comlink that he is holding in his hand, “Sir, the path has led to a dais of some kind, with an assorted collection of Jedi artifacts on top of it, nothing else seems to up here, what are your orders?”
“Retrieve the artifacts and return them to me, after which place charges and blow up the entrance to these caverns, collapse it if you can.” Vosh responds excitedly.
As Vosh finishes speaking, Xol senses through the Force, great feelings of anger and fear coming from all of the Sith knights standing near him. Feeling that he already knows what the answer will be, he asks in a sarcastic tone, “Is something the matter young ones? You seem troubled.”
With an unsettled roar from Ulatt, all four draw their lightsabers, the red blades lighting up their faces with a sinister, crimson, hue. They encircle Xol, assuming an attack posture, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Xol, then draws his gauntlet saber along with his master’s saber, but instead of raising them in defense, he lowers them to his sides, as if to taunt the already shaken Sith around him.
Unsure of what to do, three of the knights charge Xol simultaneously, presuming the strike will be too much for him to handle. Gann and Chorbek charge his front using the Force to increase their speed, while Ulatt, in an overhead swing, comes barreling at him from the rear. Vosh, deciding not to rush in, holds his position outside of the fray.
Xol waits until the last possible second before striking, in one fluid movement, he narrowly ducks beneath the oncoming sabers of Gann and Chorbek, lashing out in a sweep with his own energy blade, cutting their legs out from beneath them, sending them crumbling to the ground. At the same time, Xol whirls around to deliver a gauntlet saber strike to the chest of a surprised Ulatt. He lets out a final gasp before Xol removes the gauntlet from his chest.
Vosh, now seeing his opportunity, slashes at the distracted Yautja. Xol sensing the attack, moves to block it, but is too late and is slashed across his left shoulder, not deep enough to amputate but enough to make him bleed and feel pain. Xol’s roar of pain, overpowers the ones of Gann and Chorbek, who lie on the ground in agony, their legs from the mid-thigh down, completely severed. Phosphorescent green blood drips down the arm of Xol, its drops falling to the ground, lighting up the black of the cave floor where they fall.
“So, false Sith, you can be hurt.” Vosh says, an evil grin forming across his face. “I always suspected you to be a charlatan and so did Tykon, but when you punished us aboard your ship the way you did, after my questions, I knew then for certain you were covering up the lie that you are not a true Sith knight.”
“If you are an example of what a Sith is supposed to be, I count myself lucky.” Xol replies, with a laugh.
“How dare you mock the Sith, you inhuman scum!” Vosh says, outraged. “I will strike you down myself and present your corpse as a prize for Emperor Vader.”
“You can try Vosh,” Xol says, a smile hidden behind his mask. “But only true hunters get to collect trophies.”
Vosh angered, strikes at the Yautja with a flurry of wide, clumsy blows, the crash of lightsabers colliding, sending light and sound echoing in every corner of the cavern. With acrobatic proficiency, Xol flips overtop of the young Sith in such a way, that he lands at his back without exposing his own. Vosh reels around to strike his opponent behind him, only to be blocked by Xol’s gauntlet blade. Their sabers locked together, the cold, dark mask of the alien Dark Jedi staring between the crossed blades is unsettling to the young human.
“Vosh,” the voice behind the mask says, “You forgot one important lesson, they taught you at that academy on Coruscant.”
“What might that be?” the Sith replies, his voice strained with effort as he pushes against his larger opponent’s saber.
“How to count,” Xol snidely fires back. “I have two hands. Sith soft meat.”
A look of fear washes over Vosh’s face as he realizes that he has made this fatal error. With a swipe, the red blade of Xol’s other lightsaber slices along the young Sith’s torso, cleaving him in two. A red mist of blood sprays briefly from the surgically precise cut across his body before his eyes become still and the human warrior exhales his last breath.
Vosh’s lifeless halves collapse to the floor, his lightsaber’s blade retracting into its hilt as he falls. Xol, walking over to the bodies of the near dead Gann and Chorbek, looks down at them and despite their pleas for mercy, he plunges his saber into their chests, ending their lives instantly.
Relieved that combat has ended, Xol retracts his sabers and takes out his medical kit, attempting to mend the slash on his arm. In the distance he can hear the snowtroopers returning from their mission, he knows he doesn’t have much time and must find cover.
Suddenly, a rain of red blaster fire fills the area; the troopers have taken up position at the top of the bridge and must have received orders to kill him. Narrowly dodging blaster bolts, Xol draws his lightsabers again and begins to run full speed towards the armor-clad assassins, he uses the Force to increase his speed and agility, making the passing blaster fire seem as still as stars in the night sky. As he runs, he deflects some fire back to their shooters, sending them falling off the bridge as they die. Troopers that get within slashing range are cut down effortlessly, as the enraged Yautja rushes towards the active and assembled E-Web firing from the summit. Drawing closer, he no longer becomes concerned with small arms fire, allowing any that can hit him to strike his armor as he evades from side to side. Xol is surprised at the fearlessness of his attackers, the snowtroopers even when they are being slaughtered, do not retreat, they would rather die than fail it seems. Once within twenty feet of the E-Web, Xol leaps into the air toward the gun position. With a powerful downward Force push, he flings the gun and its two operators off the side of the narrow bridge. Their screams trail behind them as they plummet to their deaths below. Xol, now exhausted, takes a moment to breathe deeply, cooling the fire in his weary muscles.
Remembering that the soldiers had found something of interest, Xol searches the corpses for the commander, hoping of course, that he didn’t send him off the edge into uncertain blackness. Amidst the carnage he can clearly see the orange rank pauldron, and stepping over to the body, begins to rifle through his backpack. Inside he finds a featureless, white box, just like the one that Tyvokka’s holocron came in. Certain that this is what they had found; he grabs the box and begins to walk back down the bridge towards the exit.
As he walks back, he uses his helmet communicator to contact Dex, “DX-1165, are you alright?” Xol asks, expecting to hear silence from the other side.
“Everything is fine here sir, threat has been neutralized,” Dex says proudly.
“Good to hear Dex, I was worried I would have had to kill two more snowtroopers for you.” Xol replies, jokingly.
“You kiddin’ sir, no enlisted grunt will ever get the jump on a commando, that’s a fact,” Dex responds, his tone cocky. “Besides, they would have needed bigger blasters to even stand a chance.”
“Well if I can take you away from your ego for a moment,” Xol jokes. “I could use your help, scavenging whatever we can from this group, and we still need to collect a large quantity of these crystals before Tykon starts to figure out that his assassination attempt didn’t work.”
“Affirmative sir, I will be there faster than a bead of sweat down a Jawa’s back.” Dex says before closing off the comm channel.
Minutes later, the sounds of the Wayfarer transport landing outside the cave can be heard, the rumble of its engines bouncing echoes against the walls of the cavern, while its exhaust blows snow and freezing wind through the entrance. The draft subsides, and the hydraulic sounds of the exit ramp being lowered can be heard. Emerging a few moments later is Dex, bloodstained and singed snowtrooper backpacks in each hand, his armor in a similar state. Xol paying no attention to his arrival, continues piling all of the backpacks, blasters, and armor the soldiers had on them into an area near the entrance.
Looking around in amazement as he sets his two backpacks down, Dex asks Xol “How to you expect us to haul this crystal back to the ship? The entrance is too narrow for a loader to fit through, and even though cargo containers can be moved through, they would be too heavy, not to mention these crystals are still embedded in that black rock.”
“I have a plan Dex, and as long as you still remember how to use explosives, I think it will succeed.” Xol replies, as he looks around at the crystal-laced columns of ebony stone. “We place some of these charges and in essence blast mine, yielding hopefully enough material to supply any new Jedi Order effectively, at least that’s the hope. We don’t have time to do much else before the Empire realizes what’s happened.
“Not a problem,” Dex says, confidently. “Those snow troopers left me enough explosives to obliterate ten of these cave complexes, whatever those Jedi jewels are Xol, the Empire wanted them gone.
After removing a handful of charges from the snow trooper’s collection of gear, Dex begins setting them to bases of stone spires that play no part in the support structure of the cave system. After he feels that he has placed enough, he signals to Xol to fall back to a safe distance and begins to run away from the blast area himself. A few minutes later, the concussion of explosions vibrates the air as the charges detonate in sequence, sending debris and clouds of black rock dust everywhere. In the thick, blinding, haze rock can still be heard crumbling.
From out of the stillness, beyond the rubble Dex shouts “Yaaaa-hoooo! I love demo missions! I still don’t understand how we are going to get this slag out of here, but it was fun to blow up, I will tell you that much.”
“Prepare for takeoff DX-1165, I will stay to load the ship, I will be with you momentarily.” Xol replies, a sternness in his tone.
“But…” Dex says, before being interrupted.
“No questions DX-1165, just start up the transport,” Xol snaps, his eyes glowing red with energy.
Without another word said, Dex rushes overtop of the crumbled rock heap before him towards the exit, out into the blowing ice and snow of Ilum. The Wayfarer transports engines ignite a short time later, their exhaust once again blowing snow into the entrance, but also stirring up the near settled black dust of the collapsed rock.
Amidst the fragmented chunks of rock and crystal, Xol clearing away a space large enough for him to stand in, removes his helmet and cloak, setting them gently at his side before kneeling down. Knelt, he begins to breathe deeply and closes his eyes. Leaning forward he immerses his two hands into the black dirt in front of him. His mind begins to focus, sharpen, like a blade against a stone raining sparks of the Dark Side down upon him. Like an empty vessel filling with water, Xol channels the Force into himself, just as Master Blades had taught him so many years ago. Rock, earth, crystals and even the confiscated snowtroopers gear levitates into the air. Xol’s body shakes with spasms as he lifts more and more of the rubble. Seeming to be an eternity for him, it takes the Yautja Dark Jedi only a minute to lift everything, dust and all from the cave floor and into the air. Then, like a great levy giving way to a flood, all of the floating objects funnel through the exit of the cave and into the waiting cargo bay. His body still quivering in effort, Xol’s eyes snap open, crackling violently with red electricity as lets out a loud, triumphant, roar as the last pieces of cargo set down in the Wayfarer’s hold. Once again, exhausted by his efforts, he crumples to the ground, his labored breathing kicking up what little dust remains around him. Straining against fatigue, he pushes himself off the floor and stands up, he looks around at what remains, a vast cavern of precious stones that he couldn’t save and the bodies of the slain Imperial soldiers.
Still extremely tired, he adheres to his Yautja hunting traditions and begins to skin the bodies of the snowtroopers, at least, those that are mostly intact, making sure to remove the spinal column and skull of their commander as his trophy. Even with all these years of training and tutelage in the ways of the Force, he has not forgotten his roots. Leaving only the skinned carcasses behind and the effluence resulting from such an act, Xol, his gory prize in one hand and his helmet and cloak in the other, emerges from the cave, his warm tired body stung by the harsh cold of the world outside.
As quickly as he can, he boards the waiting freighter and raises the ramp leading to the cargo area, just as it begins to lift off the ground.
Xol’s feet crunch under him as he walks across some of the charcoal colored fragments from the newly loaded cargo that covers nearly half of his ship’s storage. He makes his way to his private training area, where the holocron of Tyvokka still sits undisturbed. Setting his bloody prize down, he turns around to start searching the seized equipment for the ornate box the Imperials had recovered from the dais. As he walks back over the coarse, black grains from the cave floor his foot catches against something sharp, making him wince in pain. He looks down to see a rough, black, shard of crystal lying, near invisible in the dirt. Judging by the amount of rock still clinging to it, it must have been deep inside one of the spires that were blown up. He feels drawn by the Force to this stone, and based on that alone, places it in a storage pouch for examination later. Amused but not distracted, he continues his search for the ornate box from the cave. His search is interrupted by Dex’s voice over the intercom.
“Lord Xol, we have just broken orbit and you better get up here,” Dex states, his voice amplified by the wide open space of the cargo hold. “Tykon is on the com and he insists to speak to you.”
“I will be there shortly,” Xol says, speaking into the nearest intercom receiver.
In a rush, Xol runs to the pilot’s compartment, hastily donning his cloak and helmet. Once arrived at the cockpit, he immediately goes to his command station and turns on the still flashing communication line.
“Commander Tykon, so glad to hear a friendly voice after such a perilous mission,” Xol says sarcastically.
“You will pay for what you have done here today alien scum! The Empire will reward me greatly for capturing you and your cargo.” The young officer replies arrogantly. “Oh and don’t think I didn’t know about your clone accomplice rigging your fighter with high explosives to somehow cripple my vessel, I have jettisoned your patrol craft out with the rest of the garbage, it floats through space even now.”
Before Xol can retort, Dex begins to speak on the channel, “Commander, this is DX-1165, that device I placed on the fighter was a long-range tracking beacon and astrogation uplink, no explosive at all. It would allow Lord Xol to track his ship and if necessary engage its navigation systems including hyperdrive remotely bringing it to his location wherever that may be, a little piece of Rakatan technology I picked up some time ago.”
“So you failed to sabotage my ship? You see Lord Xol, not even your antiquated commando stands a chance against the forces of the Empire!” Tykon says with pretention.
“On the contrary commander,” Dex again interrupts. “I did sabotage your vessel, I uploaded a command sequence into your system using that protocol droid you sent to our room, I overrode his programming with another remote link I attached to him, and you thought I was thanking him didn’t you?”
His voice raised, the commander yells, “What have you done to my ship saboteur! Disable it this instant!”
"Concentrate pupil," the Jedi's visage says in a soothing, patient voice. "The Force allows us to see into the future only at its allowance, quiet your mind and it will grant you an easier journey."
Xol's eyes clench tighter with intense focus, boxes of cargo and other loose debris, begin to levitate from the floor. The objects swirl around him, like planets orbiting around a star. Their rotation remains constant for a matter of minutes, before increasing in speed. Their speed grows more and more rapid until they are nothing but a blur surrounding Xol. The Yautja begins to rise up in the air, maintaining his sitting position, into the center of his Force-driven tempest. A few meters off the ground, Xol's eyes snap open, their red intensity now replaced with brilliant blue light. His mouth begins to slowly open, and a voice not his own, echoing through him, rises up, and begins to speak.
"Dark, the Force must be now; if you are the only one the Force can choose to connect me with in my time of great need." The mysterious old voice says before continuing. "Dark one, help us you can, none can stand against Vader, not many Jedi left, there are. Seek Master Kuro you must, last of us, she is. Well hidden, she must be, in order to avoid the Empire. Great knowledge, she has, in unorthodox ways of the Force, and teach you, she will. Aboard the Star Destroyer the path to her is..."
The voice's speech is disrupted, as Xol is snapped to consciousness by the sound of blaster fire from behind him. He and the objects that surrounded him in his meditative state slam to the floor, sending debris every which way as boxes break from the fall. As soon as he touches ground, Xol whips around towards the source of the weapons fire, his lightsaber gauntlet ignited with a crack as he assumes a defensive posture. His tense posture soon gives way to a more relaxed one as Xol realizes that the shot fired came from Dex, who is facing away from the Yautja, standing atop Xol's fighter, his sidearm still drawn.
"Dex," Xol yells down the cargo bay, "What are you shooting at?"
"Rats, sir." Dex says, as he turns toward Xol and jumps down from the nose of the fighter. "Bloody big Rakatan rats the size of your head, not bad eatin' mind you but absolutely vicious to anything wired. Whole ship's swarming with em, I blast every one I come across, but we could really use some Mouse droids to come through and wipe them all out, sir."
“Well in the future Dex,” Xol explains, his voice reverberating across the near empty cargo bay. “Kill them with a blade when I am meditating nearby.”
Xol quickly turns away from Dex’s direction and walks back towards the holocron, the claws on his toes clicking and clanking against the floor with every step. Having worn only his loincloth during meditation, Xol begins to collect his garments and armor that he had set out neatly next to Tyvokka’s projection spot. As Xol begins to don his armor, he asks the holocron flickering before him, “Master Tyvokka, what was the first premonition you recited to me again?”
Upon Xol’s prompting, Tyvokka begins to speak, “Where the shadow splits into multiple parts, high above the secret crystals, a new darkness will come, and find knowledge of all things in the blood of his enemies.” Upon the completion of the message, the holocron immediately powers off, Tyvokka’s image dissipating into golden, flickering particles that scatter outward in all directions.
Dismayed, Xol runs to the holocron. Picking it up in his hand, he shakes it madly, desperately trying to reactivate it to no avail. Frustrated, he throws it into the open white box it had originally emerged from. Still aggravated, Xol resumes placing on his final pieces of armor, including his helmet and cloak before asking aloud, “Master, did you hear Tyvokka’s prophecy, does your program have any idea what it means?”
“Not entirely, it was atypically cryptic for Master Tyvokka, probably some Jedi precaution should the information be viewed by people such as us.” Master Blades voice replies, from the lightsaber on Xol’s belt. “Although, he did mention secret crystals, there are caves on Ilum filled with crystals, akin to ours, that the Jedi used to use in the construction of their lightsabers, it was not a well known system, and it is close to our present location, perhaps it is a good place to start. Besides, if you are supposed to equip the Jedi with what they need to start their order again, you will need several of those crystals.”
“Hey Dex,” Xol shouts down the cargo bay. “Can you get this ship to a system called Ilum?”
“She’s a good ship sir,” Dex hollers back from the cockpit of the patrol fighter where he has been working. “I’ll take the helm, and have us there in no time at all, sir.”
Dex hops from the fighter and hastily runs to an adjacent hatch, Xol using the Force to increase his speed, makes up the distance and follows on his heels. The halls and doorways still smell somewhat of the Rakatan swamp, but save the odd exposed wire dangling from the ceiling, it has remained in immaculate shape. Xol bends slightly to move through the human-sized doorway into the pilot’s compartment where he can see Dex seated in the forward pilot station, flicking a series of switches. The Yautja sits down at the slightly raised command station behind the pilot position, and begins strapping himself into the chair.
Swiveling the pilots chair around, Dex turns and looks up to Xol before asking, “Sir, the navigational information inside the databanks seems to be out of date and is unable to find the planet Ilum. What are your orders?”
“Input my program into the main computer, just like on Rakata.” Master Blades’ voice insists, from underneath Xol’s cloak.
“Very well, my master, I shall do as asked.” Xol replies, reaching for the lightsaber from his belt. “Dex, I am inputting new star chart information, try to locate Ilum again.”
Xol, places his master’s lightsaber on top of the command console, triggering the holographic emitter to open and activate but instead of displaying an image, the command console begins to display a message reading, “Transfer in progress.”
A few moments later, the emitter closes then, just as quickly, re-opens this time, displaying just a facial image of Master Blades which begins to talk, “Lord Xol, as before with your fighter, my holocron’s information has been uploaded into these databanks, if you require any additional information, simply enable the saber’s emitter, and say my name, the rest you already know.”
“Navigation has acquired hyperspace coordinates for Ilum sir,” Dex says from the forward console. “Shall I make the jump to lightspeed?”
“Yes Dex, engage the hyperdrive, continue with the hunt.” Xol responds with a hidden smile.
With an abrupt shunt, the Wayfarer transport maneuvers into position, and with a streak, plunges forward into hyperspace. The whirlpool of blue and white, just beyond the transparisteel of the cockpit shines through, seeming to dance across the dimly lit interior.
After a few minutes, Dex again revolves around to face Xol in his chair, when he comes to rest he says, “Lord Xol, sir. We won’t arrive for several hours, only one of us has to remain on the command while in hyperspace.”
“Very well commando,” Xol replies in agreement. “I will retire to my quarters, should there be any problems, use internal communications to contact me.”
“Will do sir,” Dex says affirmatively, as he revolves back around in his chair to face the forward pilot’s console.
Xol upon leaving the command, proceeds down the hall and enters his room. After setting his, armor, weapons, and helmet down on a small table that sits in the room next to his bunk, he sits in the center of the open floor and begins to meditate.
Hours pass, and with a shudder, the Wayfarer exits hyperspace. Almost immediately afterwards, a crackle comes over the intercom in Xol’s room before Dex’s voice starts to exclaim from it, “Lord Xol, sir. You are needed in the command immediately.”
Xol rises to his feet, grabbing his helmet and arm gauntlets on the way out of his room. Walking into command, he is met by an unusual sight, three ships around the orbit of Ilum, the lead ship, a large grey hulk, triangular in shape, twenty times larger than his. Its hull is lined with armament so formidable it could only be a warship. The two lesser ships are similar in configuration but are covered in several dome-shaped constructs and are still better equipped than the Wayfarer.
“Who are they Dex?” Xol questions, his eyes scanning back, and forth, at the horizon beyond the cockpit.
Before Dex can answer, the voice of Xol’s former master sounds from the console’s speaker, “Those are Imperial Star Destroyers, and they’ll blow you into tiny little pieces if you show any aggressive posturing whatsoever.”
“Well then, I suggest Lord Xol sir, that we make the jump back into hyperspace and escape.” Dex says, confidently.
Before Xol can respond, the conversation is again interrupted by Master Blades’ voice. “It’s no good trooper, those smaller ones are Interdictor cruisers, they are fitted with gravity well projectors, and they can disable anyone’s ability to jump to hyperspace without their permission. It appears my former apprentice, that they have blockaded Ilum for some reason.”
A blinking light begins to flash on the right console next to Xol and Dex. Dex looking uncertain turns to Xol and says, “Sir, it appears they are attempting to hail us. Should we answer them sir?”
Xol does not respond for several seconds, and then just as Dex is about to ask his question again, Xol replies, “I will answer them; my master has taught me that these great constructions of Vader’s empire are nothing but mere playthings next to the all powerful Force. We shall see what they want.”
Xol reaches across Dex and presses the still flashing button, an official sounding voice, in mid sentence begins speaking, “…I repeat, unidentified vessel, this is Captain Salus, of the Imperial Star Destroyer, Reclamation, identify yourself or be fired upon. The Ilum system is under blockade by order of Emperor Vader, any attempt to leave the system will result in detainment and the confiscation of your craft.”
“Pardon the interjection, Captain.” Xol interrupts. “I am Lord Xol, and if I were you, I would think twice about even so much as charging your weapons, let alone firing them.”
“My sincerest apologies, Lord Xol,” Captain Salus says with an air of condescension. “What, are you the lord of exactly, besides perhaps that dilapidated ship of yours?”
“The Dark Side of the Force, captain.” Xol says, anger, boiling up in his throat. “Allow me passage or I will destroy you!”
“I am sorry, but lord or not, I am afraid without proper identification; I have no choice, but to carry out my orders.” Salus replies before terminating the communication signal.
“They are charging weapons, and gravity projectors on the other two destroyers are active.” Dex says, his eyes darting between the flashing displays on his console.
“Take no violent action Dex, I will deal with this imbecile that impedes our mission,” Xol says as he turns for the exit of the cockpit. “I am taking the fighter, once I am clear, take as much evasive action as necessary, but I doubt they’ll land a shot.”
“You’re as mad as a rabid Gundark sir, if you think that you stand a chance in that fighter.” Dex exclaims, while hitting a series of controls and piloting throttles.
Xol exits the cockpit and using the Force to open all the hatches in front of him, he quickly makes his way to his fighter.
Warning lights flash, as the cargo bay opens like the gaping maw of some great beast. Xol’s fighter rushes out from behind the protective airlock shield, plunging headlong, into the vastness of space.
“They are firing ion cannons directly at you sir,” Dex says, his voice blaring over the fighter’s communication system. “Your shields won’t withstand that level of firepower; those blasts will drain all your onboard power and leave you adrift.”
“Don’t worry about me soldier,” Xol says, his voice crackling back over the line. “Just keep on my tail and trust in the Force.”
The fearless Dark Jedi flies his fighter at full speed towards the blasts, the Wayfarer transport following behind in close pursuit. The green bolts of ion cannon fire, streak across the black of space coming ever closer to the two craft.
Anger begins to course through Xol’s veins; he is angry, angry that this impudent little piece of soft meat would dare challenge him, he is Gr'rit'Xol, last of his clan and Dark Jedi Knight, he will not be defeated so easily. His rage flows through him stopping at the palm of his now, outstretched hand. Channeling the Dark Side, Xol diverts the ion blasts outward, making them careen right into the two Interdictor Star Destroyers that are on either side of the Reclamation. The vessels crackle with the energy of the blasts, their power disabled
“Lord Xol, that’s it, you’ve done it,” Dex yells happily over the speaker. “Those gravity wells are down, we can jump to hyperspace!”
“Hold your position Dex, this hunt is not over, this soft meat Salus has underestimated his prey and has been stung badly.” Xol responds, the anger still swimming in his voice. “We still require what is on Ilum, this Captain will either know now, that I am telling the truth, or he will die for his ignorance.”
The heads up display screen in Xol’s fighter begins flashing with a graphic indicating an incoming communiqué from the Reclamation. With the flick of a toggle adjacent to the screen, the communication line is opened and a video image of a tense Imperial officer appears, in the background, another officer dressed in grey can be seen being dragged away by two soldiers in white armor similar to Dex’s. Once the individual being dragged away is clear of the line of sight for the video feed, the young officer begins to speak, “Lord Xol I presume?”
“You presume correctly Captain…” Xol pauses awaiting the officer’s reply.
“Commander Tykon. I am acting captain of the Imperial Star Destroyer Reclamation,” Tykon says, with intensity and pride.
“Where is Captain Salus?” Xol inquires.
“Captain Salus has been removed from command in lieu of recent events, I will liaise with you from now on,” the nervous commander replies. “We were unaware of any Imperial operatives working in the Outer Rim.”
“An honest mistake commander, which is why I have made my actions purely defensive,” Xol says gruffly, knowing the tone will keep the young officer off-balance. “Despite a couple of temporarily disabled ships, you remain for the most part, quite strong, able to repel just about any attacker in this region.”
“Yes, that much is true, and I must apologize for Captain Salus firing upon you sir,” Tykon replies, his voice shaky. “Our Interdictors will return to normal functionality within a matter of days, in the meantime please accept our hospitality, and dock with us. I trust that word of this incident will not find its way back to the Emperor.”
“I do not know what incident you speak of, commander.” Xol says sarcastically. “My pilot and I will come aboard and acquire some provisions for our mission.”
“Excellent sir,” Tykon replies, his eyes beaming with excitement. “We anxiously await your arrival; docking procedures will be uploaded to you and your pilot in the Wayfarer transport.”
The commander’s image disappears as communication ends, the display reverting to its standard configuration of black with blue lettering. The tugging force of a tractor beam, grabs hold of the diminutive patrol fighter, slowly it moves down the hull of the Reclamation until it is engulfed in the massive shadow of the underside. The docking bay opens, its outer airlock doors slowly parting to the sides allowing the two vessels pass in between them. Once inside the humongous hangar, the vessels are lowered into place and secured on landing pads beside several other ships and fighters. Warning sirens still sound, as the docking bays doors reseal beyond the semi-transparent safety shields.
The alarms cease, as a still quiet falls over the hangar, before the plodding of heavy footsteps in unison can be heard echoing throughout the chamber. A platoon of soldiers in white armor march in formation across the cold steel, splitting into two halves, with a path down the middle, as they come within feet of the Wayfarer transport, quickly following walking in the newly made pathway is a young man in a black dress uniform and four individuals wearing identical black robes. Xol opens the hatch to his fighter upon unhooking his pilot’s harness, collecting his equipment before hopping down from the cockpit, despite the fact that a descent ladder was attached to his craft upon docking. He senses the presence of the Dark Side as he walks towards the darkly-clad figures.
The man in uniform looking up at the towering Yautja says, “Lord Xol, I am Commander Tykon, we spoke earlier as you recall, and these four gentlemen are Sith knights Vosh, Gann, Chorbek, and Ulatt. I formally welcome you aboard you aboard the Reclamation, I and my men are at your disposal.”
“Thank you for the warm welcome commander,” Xol says with confidence, all the while feeling unease around these four Tykon calls Sith knights. “My pilot and I won’t be requiring anything more than provisions and some rest, as well as any information you have on this planet beneath us, Ilum.”
“As I said, we are at your disposal my lord, we shall do our best.” Tykon says with a smirk of pride on his face. “Now, Lord Xol, you had spoken of a pilot accompanying you, yet I see no one.”
“He is securing our ship, commander.” Xol snaps back firmly, ensuring that the young officer’s snide remark does not go unchallenged. “I am carrying very valuable equipment aboard that innocuous looking vessel and none of it can be left unsecured without total lockdown, your security is superior, I am sure, but, the Emperor will not accept failure.”
“I understand entirely my lord, I had seen him strangle a man from light years away with his Sith powers for failing to complete a routine scouting mission.” Tykon replies in agreement, his voice now more subdued. “I was just a junior cadet at the time.”
Pressing the side his helmet to enable its internal communicator, Xol summons Dex, choosing to refer to him by his serial number Dx-1165, keeping up the ruse of a command structure in front of the Imperial officer and his entourage. A few moments later, helmet on, with his weapons holstered, and wearing a dress cape over his armor, accompanied by red kamas and a matching rank pauldron on his left shoulder, he walks down the transport's exit ramp and walks beside his much taller Dark Jedi compatriot.
“DX-1165 reporting for duty as you requested, Lord Xol, sir!” Dex says with his hand raised in salute.
“Very good 1165,” Xol says assertively, making sure not to turn towards the soldier as he speaks, maintaining his illusion of superior rank. “You will accompany me and Commander Tykon until such time it is that you are dismissed, is that understood commando?”
“Perfectly sir, I am at your command.” Dex states, his head lowered slightly in submission.
Tykon, Xol, Dex and the four Sith knights proceed to the hangars exit making their way inside the first hallway of the ship. Upon their exit, the trooper formation reassembles and marches through the same exit, their footsteps in perfect synchronization as they go.
Tykon and Xol walking in front, begins to talk as they snake their way through the halls of the star destroyer.
“Is that a real Clone Commando Lord Xol?” the young officer’s voice peaked with intrigue. “I have only read about them in textbooks on the Old Republic at the academy.”
“Yes, commander, he has been a loyal companion and an even more loyal soldier to me for many, many years.” Xol replies, his voice still carrying a dominant tone. “He will respond only to commands I give him, but I assure you commander, he will not cause a disturbance aboard your ship.”
“A great reassurance, thank you my lord.” Tykon answers, the anxiety in his voice seeming to rise before he continues to speak. “Forgive my incessant questions my lord, but I have never met a Sith knight of your race, you are quite formidable, larger even, than most Wookiees, what do your people call themselves?”
“I come from a race of hunters, known as the Yautja, I killed many creatures before I even spoke my first words, and have slaughtered countless since in the service of the Emperor.” Xol gloats, his bravado successfully intimidating his meek host with his half-truth.
“I see,” Tykon stammers, “You are truly an asset to us, Lord Xol, I am honored to have you aboard.”
The procession continues through several more halls and up a special service lift until finally coming to a stop at the command bridge. The bridge itself is a bustling environment with command staff manning displays in a lower area while a causeway crosses above them where senior officers can go to an observation station just in front of large transparisteel windows, Ilum, with its snowy surface, gleams like a pearl in the distance just beyond them.
Waving off his honour guard, Tykon leads Xol, Dex, and the four knights, across the causeway towards the captain’s station, junior officers, staring up at the formidable Yautja as he walks above them. His hands folded behind his back Tykon stares out towards the planet and asks, “Lord Xol, what exactly is your mission in this sector?”
“Do not forget your place Commander Tykon, my mission is of the utmost importance to the Emperor and must be kept secret.” Xol replies, tersely. “What I can tell you is that I must find a cave on Ilum’s surface that holds crystalline deposits, rare ones that greatly interest the Emperor. Do you know of such a cave Tykon?”
“Yes in fact, I do, my lord.” The young commander responds with a smile. “I was just about to send a squad of snowtroopers down with the knights on a mission they must accomplish in the same area.”
“How fortunate for me,” Xol says, amused. “If they were not scheduled to depart immediately, I would like to offer the use of my transport for the mission, after my pilot and I resupply and rest for a time.”
“Such devotion you have, Lord Xol. You would offer up your own ship in service of the Empire? I shall of course allow you the necessary time to rest and recuperate before departure on this mission,” Tykon replies, seemingly impressed by the gesture. “I will have one of my security liaisons show you to temporary quarters and have a droid bring you refreshment within a half of an hour, if anything is not to your liking, let me know, I shall have it dealt with personally.
“Many thanks commander,” Xol says with his head lowered in obligatory respect. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we shall accept your gracious hospitality and retire for a time.”
Escorted by two security officers, Xol and Dex are led through a labyrinth of hallways and secured, locked doors until they finally arrive at their rooms, which conveniently are placed side by side with one another. With a salute, the security escorts dismiss themselves, leaving the Dark Jedi and his Clone Commando counterpart to settle into their rooms. Moments later, a glossy, black RA-7 protocol droid enters the room carrying a tray of assorted food rations and containers of water. The droid sets the tray down, and exits the room after a pat of gratitude on the shoulder from Dex. After its departure, Xol waves his hand towards the open portal, closing and locking the mechanical door instantly.
“DX-1165, I need you to listen very carefully,” Xol transmits telepathically. “They may be monitoring this room electronically, so I will speak to you through your mind, do not be alarmed. In order to ensure our escape after our mission is complete, you must find a way to sabotage this vessel. With the support ships still recovering from my attack, the Reclamation is our only obstacle in leaving this system without being pursued. Answer me by removing your helmet for yes, and adjusting it slightly for no.”
Dex then removes his helmet, a half smile on his face, a newly ignited determination in his eyes. “Sir,” he inquires, “it has been some time since I was aboard a capital ship and I am not very tired, do I have permission to explore? Stretch my legs out a bit?”
“Of course DX-1165, you are dismissed, I must rest now,” Xol explains whilst removing his armor and cloak, without removing his helmet, gauntlets, and lightsaber. “Wake me in four hours trooper, Commander Tykon is patient, but I do not want to test his patience.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Dex says before exiting the room.
Four hours pass and Xol is awakened by a chime coming from his room door. “Enter!” he says, still groggy from sleep. “The lock is not engaged.”
With a hiss of pressure, the door opens, sliding into the wall. Dex steps through the doorway and comes to attention before speaking, “DX-1165 reporting as ordered sir, shall I inform Commander Tykon that we wish to depart?”
“Yes, do inform the commander, trooper,” Xol replies back firmly, “unless of course, you have more exploring to do?”
Understanding his master’s innuendo, Dex replies, “Yes sir, I have completed my exploration of this wondrous ship.”
“Very good DX,” Xol responds with a nod, “tell Commander Tykon that we shall rendezvous with him in the hangar, there we will load up his troops and you can start your pre-flight, is that understood?”
“Sir, understood, sir!” Dex responds, a salute snapping to the side of his head.
After relaying the message and allowing Xol to re-don his armor, the pair makes their way to the hangar, where they are met by Tykon, his four Sith knights, and a squad of a dozen heavily armed snowtroopers. Once Dex allows them access to the loading ramp, they begin moving their equipment onto the Wayfarer transport.
Overseeing the loading of the craft, Tykon turns to Xol and says, “My lord, these men, will assist you in your mission whatever way they can.”
Sensing fear in the commander, Xol inquires, “Commander Tykon, why are the men so heavily armed? Are you expecting trouble down there?”
“Not at all my lord,” Tykon quickly replies, “I just felt that the success of this mission is paramount, not to mention the indigenous Gorgodon can be quite the messy business without heavy firepower.”
“I understand completely commander,” Xol says feigning reassurance, still sensing great fear in Tykon, “I shall do what I can to minimize the loss of any of your men while they are under my command.”
“Of course you will my lord, the men feel quite privileged to be under your leadership.” The young officer responds, his voice slightly wavering.
Once all of the troop’s equipment is loaded and secured, Tykon privately speaks with the four cloaked Sith before allowing them to board the ship. With a nod of appreciation towards the commander, Xol turns and boards his Wayfarer, the gangway rising behind him, the air release of its lifts fluttering his long, black cloak as he walks.
Once aboard he makes his way to the command area for departure, upon entering, he sees Dex at his usual station but also waiting for him are the four knights, their hoods still drawn up over their heads so far that only the lower halves of their faces can be seen.
“Master Xol,” one of the black figures asks, “How is it that you are trained in the ways of the Sith, yet the academy on Coruscant does not accept non-human applicants.
“Correction, you impudent whelp,” Xol retorts, displeased by the line of questioning, “It does not openly accept non human applicants, but the Emperor could not allow someone of my talents to go untrained, so he had me trained, but only if he could use me as his instrument, and no other, thus the reason I do not cower before a soft meat officer like Tykon as you do. The Dark Side has taught me that no one is before Vader, his command and only his, I will follow. I expect no more of these foolish questions lest you wish to be cleaved in two and sent out the nearest airlock as chum for the Mynocks!”
“As you wish my lord,” the figure says, his head held in shame. “I apologize if I have offended you, it is in our training to seek out the Force-sensitives masquerading as Sith, namely, hidden Jedi.”
Xol, enraged, locks eyes with the Sith knights and says, “Would a Jedi do this?”
Once more, the Yautja taps into his anger to amplify his connection to the Force. With a thought, he begins to choke the four knights, who despite their own attunement to the Dark Side, seem unable to stop his attack. They rise up into the air, their hands around their throats attempting to fight the grip that has been placed upon them. With a turn to face away from the struggling knights, Xol ceases his assault and allows the four to drop to the deck of the flight area.
Coughing, his words strained, one of the knights speaks, “Lord Xol, we shall never question your loyalties again.”
“See that you don’t,” Xol replies, anger still in his voice, “Do yourselves a favor, we are about to make our descent to the surface, strap yourselves in.”
The four do as they are told and seat themselves where they can, pulling down their hoods, they reveal themselves finally. Xol takes notice that all are surprisingly quite young, human, and share no uniform appearance besides their attire. The one called Vosh seems to speak for them, and brash is his speech, he is very pale with long, black hair that comes down to the middle of his back, and the soft meat females probably find him attractive based on his facial symmetry, his skull would make a fine trophy, Xol thinks to himself. Gann is smaller, with short, dark hair and facial hair which he seems to have grown to appear older. The third, Chorbek is darker in skin color, and totally bald, he has instead decided to replace his lack of hair with intricate, detailed, tattoos in the same style as Xol, indicating a strong threshold for pain. Finally, the largest of the group, is Ulatt, even for soft meat he seems formidable, a fine prey. His hair a light blonde almost white, shaved down until he is almost bald, offset by his well manicured, long, blonde moustache and goatee.
Shortly after the Sith do as they are told and lock themselves in, the Wayfarer begins to breach the atmosphere of Ilum, the tiny freighter shuddering as it pierces through. Despite the turbulence, Dex seems quite comfortable on the controls occasionally making an adjustment on the descent path. Within a few minutes the ship successfully navigates passed the outer atmosphere and into the high altitude above the surface of Ilum. Clouds race by the windows as they make a steady decline towards the planet below. Moments later, Dex lands the ship atop a high cliff, its weight shifting slightly before finally coming to rest. The front window reveals nothing but whistling, wintry winds and dense packed snow and ice; in the distance the ruins of a structure can be seen, almost completely shrouded by the blowing snowfall.
Within seconds of Dex lowering the ramp into the thick snow outside, the snowtroopers immediately begin offloading their equipment and arming themselves with a plethora of weapons, including the components for a tripod mounted E-Web heavy blaster. Soon afterwards, Xol emerges accompanied by the four Sith. Dex, at the request of his Yautja comrade is staying with the ship, two snowtroopers stay as well, assigned to guard the vessel.
With the remaining ten troopers taking the lead, the band of Imperials and Xol embark towards the ruined building ahead. Once closer, they can see that it once was a great temple, an immense structure dedicated to the Jedi Order, now reduced to crumbling rock.
The snowtrooper on point waves an all clear before announcing, “I have found a way into the crystal caves, the support columns have held and there doesn’t seem to be any danger of a collapse.”
A snowtrooper with an orange pauldron on his shoulder indicating his senior rank orders his soldiers forward with a wave of his hand. The group moves towards the opening and one-by-one makes their way inside. Xol going last, should have the most difficulty due to his size, but much to the surprise of the rest of the group, he maneuvers his way through the narrow pass as elegantly as a snake moves through grass.
Once inside, the party is treated to a fantastic sight, large spires of black rock, shining with illuminated crystals, stretching up into the ceiling so far that it surpasses normal vision and plunges into the unknown black above. A short distance into the cavern, an upward, spiral bridge like path of natural origin, possibly even man made, lies before them and seems to lead further inside the cavern.
“Commander, lead these men up that bridge and report anything anomalous you see back to us, Lord Xol and ourselves will remain here guarding the entrance.” Vosh commands.
With a salute of confirmation, the commander along with his troops make haste towards the bridge as they move along it at quickened pace until they disappear from sight entirely.
A few minutes later, while Xol and the other wait at the entrance, a crackled message comes through on Vosh’s comlink that he is holding in his hand, “Sir, the path has led to a dais of some kind, with an assorted collection of Jedi artifacts on top of it, nothing else seems to up here, what are your orders?”
“Retrieve the artifacts and return them to me, after which place charges and blow up the entrance to these caverns, collapse it if you can.” Vosh responds excitedly.
As Vosh finishes speaking, Xol senses through the Force, great feelings of anger and fear coming from all of the Sith knights standing near him. Feeling that he already knows what the answer will be, he asks in a sarcastic tone, “Is something the matter young ones? You seem troubled.”
With an unsettled roar from Ulatt, all four draw their lightsabers, the red blades lighting up their faces with a sinister, crimson, hue. They encircle Xol, assuming an attack posture, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Xol, then draws his gauntlet saber along with his master’s saber, but instead of raising them in defense, he lowers them to his sides, as if to taunt the already shaken Sith around him.
Unsure of what to do, three of the knights charge Xol simultaneously, presuming the strike will be too much for him to handle. Gann and Chorbek charge his front using the Force to increase their speed, while Ulatt, in an overhead swing, comes barreling at him from the rear. Vosh, deciding not to rush in, holds his position outside of the fray.
Xol waits until the last possible second before striking, in one fluid movement, he narrowly ducks beneath the oncoming sabers of Gann and Chorbek, lashing out in a sweep with his own energy blade, cutting their legs out from beneath them, sending them crumbling to the ground. At the same time, Xol whirls around to deliver a gauntlet saber strike to the chest of a surprised Ulatt. He lets out a final gasp before Xol removes the gauntlet from his chest.
Vosh, now seeing his opportunity, slashes at the distracted Yautja. Xol sensing the attack, moves to block it, but is too late and is slashed across his left shoulder, not deep enough to amputate but enough to make him bleed and feel pain. Xol’s roar of pain, overpowers the ones of Gann and Chorbek, who lie on the ground in agony, their legs from the mid-thigh down, completely severed. Phosphorescent green blood drips down the arm of Xol, its drops falling to the ground, lighting up the black of the cave floor where they fall.
“So, false Sith, you can be hurt.” Vosh says, an evil grin forming across his face. “I always suspected you to be a charlatan and so did Tykon, but when you punished us aboard your ship the way you did, after my questions, I knew then for certain you were covering up the lie that you are not a true Sith knight.”
“If you are an example of what a Sith is supposed to be, I count myself lucky.” Xol replies, with a laugh.
“How dare you mock the Sith, you inhuman scum!” Vosh says, outraged. “I will strike you down myself and present your corpse as a prize for Emperor Vader.”
“You can try Vosh,” Xol says, a smile hidden behind his mask. “But only true hunters get to collect trophies.”
Vosh angered, strikes at the Yautja with a flurry of wide, clumsy blows, the crash of lightsabers colliding, sending light and sound echoing in every corner of the cavern. With acrobatic proficiency, Xol flips overtop of the young Sith in such a way, that he lands at his back without exposing his own. Vosh reels around to strike his opponent behind him, only to be blocked by Xol’s gauntlet blade. Their sabers locked together, the cold, dark mask of the alien Dark Jedi staring between the crossed blades is unsettling to the young human.
“Vosh,” the voice behind the mask says, “You forgot one important lesson, they taught you at that academy on Coruscant.”
“What might that be?” the Sith replies, his voice strained with effort as he pushes against his larger opponent’s saber.
“How to count,” Xol snidely fires back. “I have two hands. Sith soft meat.”
A look of fear washes over Vosh’s face as he realizes that he has made this fatal error. With a swipe, the red blade of Xol’s other lightsaber slices along the young Sith’s torso, cleaving him in two. A red mist of blood sprays briefly from the surgically precise cut across his body before his eyes become still and the human warrior exhales his last breath.
Vosh’s lifeless halves collapse to the floor, his lightsaber’s blade retracting into its hilt as he falls. Xol, walking over to the bodies of the near dead Gann and Chorbek, looks down at them and despite their pleas for mercy, he plunges his saber into their chests, ending their lives instantly.
Relieved that combat has ended, Xol retracts his sabers and takes out his medical kit, attempting to mend the slash on his arm. In the distance he can hear the snowtroopers returning from their mission, he knows he doesn’t have much time and must find cover.
Suddenly, a rain of red blaster fire fills the area; the troopers have taken up position at the top of the bridge and must have received orders to kill him. Narrowly dodging blaster bolts, Xol draws his lightsabers again and begins to run full speed towards the armor-clad assassins, he uses the Force to increase his speed and agility, making the passing blaster fire seem as still as stars in the night sky. As he runs, he deflects some fire back to their shooters, sending them falling off the bridge as they die. Troopers that get within slashing range are cut down effortlessly, as the enraged Yautja rushes towards the active and assembled E-Web firing from the summit. Drawing closer, he no longer becomes concerned with small arms fire, allowing any that can hit him to strike his armor as he evades from side to side. Xol is surprised at the fearlessness of his attackers, the snowtroopers even when they are being slaughtered, do not retreat, they would rather die than fail it seems. Once within twenty feet of the E-Web, Xol leaps into the air toward the gun position. With a powerful downward Force push, he flings the gun and its two operators off the side of the narrow bridge. Their screams trail behind them as they plummet to their deaths below. Xol, now exhausted, takes a moment to breathe deeply, cooling the fire in his weary muscles.
Remembering that the soldiers had found something of interest, Xol searches the corpses for the commander, hoping of course, that he didn’t send him off the edge into uncertain blackness. Amidst the carnage he can clearly see the orange rank pauldron, and stepping over to the body, begins to rifle through his backpack. Inside he finds a featureless, white box, just like the one that Tyvokka’s holocron came in. Certain that this is what they had found; he grabs the box and begins to walk back down the bridge towards the exit.
As he walks back, he uses his helmet communicator to contact Dex, “DX-1165, are you alright?” Xol asks, expecting to hear silence from the other side.
“Everything is fine here sir, threat has been neutralized,” Dex says proudly.
“Good to hear Dex, I was worried I would have had to kill two more snowtroopers for you.” Xol replies, jokingly.
“You kiddin’ sir, no enlisted grunt will ever get the jump on a commando, that’s a fact,” Dex responds, his tone cocky. “Besides, they would have needed bigger blasters to even stand a chance.”
“Well if I can take you away from your ego for a moment,” Xol jokes. “I could use your help, scavenging whatever we can from this group, and we still need to collect a large quantity of these crystals before Tykon starts to figure out that his assassination attempt didn’t work.”
“Affirmative sir, I will be there faster than a bead of sweat down a Jawa’s back.” Dex says before closing off the comm channel.
Minutes later, the sounds of the Wayfarer transport landing outside the cave can be heard, the rumble of its engines bouncing echoes against the walls of the cavern, while its exhaust blows snow and freezing wind through the entrance. The draft subsides, and the hydraulic sounds of the exit ramp being lowered can be heard. Emerging a few moments later is Dex, bloodstained and singed snowtrooper backpacks in each hand, his armor in a similar state. Xol paying no attention to his arrival, continues piling all of the backpacks, blasters, and armor the soldiers had on them into an area near the entrance.
Looking around in amazement as he sets his two backpacks down, Dex asks Xol “How to you expect us to haul this crystal back to the ship? The entrance is too narrow for a loader to fit through, and even though cargo containers can be moved through, they would be too heavy, not to mention these crystals are still embedded in that black rock.”
“I have a plan Dex, and as long as you still remember how to use explosives, I think it will succeed.” Xol replies, as he looks around at the crystal-laced columns of ebony stone. “We place some of these charges and in essence blast mine, yielding hopefully enough material to supply any new Jedi Order effectively, at least that’s the hope. We don’t have time to do much else before the Empire realizes what’s happened.
“Not a problem,” Dex says, confidently. “Those snow troopers left me enough explosives to obliterate ten of these cave complexes, whatever those Jedi jewels are Xol, the Empire wanted them gone.
After removing a handful of charges from the snow trooper’s collection of gear, Dex begins setting them to bases of stone spires that play no part in the support structure of the cave system. After he feels that he has placed enough, he signals to Xol to fall back to a safe distance and begins to run away from the blast area himself. A few minutes later, the concussion of explosions vibrates the air as the charges detonate in sequence, sending debris and clouds of black rock dust everywhere. In the thick, blinding, haze rock can still be heard crumbling.
From out of the stillness, beyond the rubble Dex shouts “Yaaaa-hoooo! I love demo missions! I still don’t understand how we are going to get this slag out of here, but it was fun to blow up, I will tell you that much.”
“Prepare for takeoff DX-1165, I will stay to load the ship, I will be with you momentarily.” Xol replies, a sternness in his tone.
“But…” Dex says, before being interrupted.
“No questions DX-1165, just start up the transport,” Xol snaps, his eyes glowing red with energy.
Without another word said, Dex rushes overtop of the crumbled rock heap before him towards the exit, out into the blowing ice and snow of Ilum. The Wayfarer transports engines ignite a short time later, their exhaust once again blowing snow into the entrance, but also stirring up the near settled black dust of the collapsed rock.
Amidst the fragmented chunks of rock and crystal, Xol clearing away a space large enough for him to stand in, removes his helmet and cloak, setting them gently at his side before kneeling down. Knelt, he begins to breathe deeply and closes his eyes. Leaning forward he immerses his two hands into the black dirt in front of him. His mind begins to focus, sharpen, like a blade against a stone raining sparks of the Dark Side down upon him. Like an empty vessel filling with water, Xol channels the Force into himself, just as Master Blades had taught him so many years ago. Rock, earth, crystals and even the confiscated snowtroopers gear levitates into the air. Xol’s body shakes with spasms as he lifts more and more of the rubble. Seeming to be an eternity for him, it takes the Yautja Dark Jedi only a minute to lift everything, dust and all from the cave floor and into the air. Then, like a great levy giving way to a flood, all of the floating objects funnel through the exit of the cave and into the waiting cargo bay. His body still quivering in effort, Xol’s eyes snap open, crackling violently with red electricity as lets out a loud, triumphant, roar as the last pieces of cargo set down in the Wayfarer’s hold. Once again, exhausted by his efforts, he crumples to the ground, his labored breathing kicking up what little dust remains around him. Straining against fatigue, he pushes himself off the floor and stands up, he looks around at what remains, a vast cavern of precious stones that he couldn’t save and the bodies of the slain Imperial soldiers.
Still extremely tired, he adheres to his Yautja hunting traditions and begins to skin the bodies of the snowtroopers, at least, those that are mostly intact, making sure to remove the spinal column and skull of their commander as his trophy. Even with all these years of training and tutelage in the ways of the Force, he has not forgotten his roots. Leaving only the skinned carcasses behind and the effluence resulting from such an act, Xol, his gory prize in one hand and his helmet and cloak in the other, emerges from the cave, his warm tired body stung by the harsh cold of the world outside.
As quickly as he can, he boards the waiting freighter and raises the ramp leading to the cargo area, just as it begins to lift off the ground.
Xol’s feet crunch under him as he walks across some of the charcoal colored fragments from the newly loaded cargo that covers nearly half of his ship’s storage. He makes his way to his private training area, where the holocron of Tyvokka still sits undisturbed. Setting his bloody prize down, he turns around to start searching the seized equipment for the ornate box the Imperials had recovered from the dais. As he walks back over the coarse, black grains from the cave floor his foot catches against something sharp, making him wince in pain. He looks down to see a rough, black, shard of crystal lying, near invisible in the dirt. Judging by the amount of rock still clinging to it, it must have been deep inside one of the spires that were blown up. He feels drawn by the Force to this stone, and based on that alone, places it in a storage pouch for examination later. Amused but not distracted, he continues his search for the ornate box from the cave. His search is interrupted by Dex’s voice over the intercom.
“Lord Xol, we have just broken orbit and you better get up here,” Dex states, his voice amplified by the wide open space of the cargo hold. “Tykon is on the com and he insists to speak to you.”
“I will be there shortly,” Xol says, speaking into the nearest intercom receiver.
In a rush, Xol runs to the pilot’s compartment, hastily donning his cloak and helmet. Once arrived at the cockpit, he immediately goes to his command station and turns on the still flashing communication line.
“Commander Tykon, so glad to hear a friendly voice after such a perilous mission,” Xol says sarcastically.
“You will pay for what you have done here today alien scum! The Empire will reward me greatly for capturing you and your cargo.” The young officer replies arrogantly. “Oh and don’t think I didn’t know about your clone accomplice rigging your fighter with high explosives to somehow cripple my vessel, I have jettisoned your patrol craft out with the rest of the garbage, it floats through space even now.”
Before Xol can retort, Dex begins to speak on the channel, “Commander, this is DX-1165, that device I placed on the fighter was a long-range tracking beacon and astrogation uplink, no explosive at all. It would allow Lord Xol to track his ship and if necessary engage its navigation systems including hyperdrive remotely bringing it to his location wherever that may be, a little piece of Rakatan technology I picked up some time ago.”
“So you failed to sabotage my ship? You see Lord Xol, not even your antiquated commando stands a chance against the forces of the Empire!” Tykon says with pretention.
“On the contrary commander,” Dex again interrupts. “I did sabotage your vessel, I uploaded a command sequence into your system using that protocol droid you sent to our room, I overrode his programming with another remote link I attached to him, and you thought I was thanking him didn’t you?”
His voice raised, the commander yells, “What have you done to my ship saboteur! Disable it this instant!”
"Basically commander,” Dex says, his voice lowering to a taunting whisper. “The command sequence tells your reactor to prepare for lightspeed and boost its power, the problem is, you aren’t going anywhere and the power boost will build and build and within seconds overload and blow your reactor core. I also relayed this same command sequence secretly through your ship to ship communications to the disabled Interdictors, whose reactors are also still online.”
Shocked, the commander takes a few seconds to reply, “You’re bluffing, there is no way you could ever accomplish such a feat without my knowing.”
“You? Yes. Captain Salus, probably not.” Dex says cheekily. “I am a Republic Commando, trained to exploit the weaknesses of my enemy and use them as my strengths. Goodbye, Commander Tykon.
With a flick of a switch Dex stops communication and pull out a remote detonator. With a press of the lit red button sitting atop it, he looks back to Xol and says, “Brace yourself sir.”
As soon as he tells the Yautja to do so, a flash of white light streams through the forward viewport blinding Xol and Dex temporarily. Once their sight returns they see nothing but floating chunks of wreckage where the three star destroyers once were.
“Well,” Dex says with a laugh. “At least they dumped your fighter with the garbage before that happened!”
“Good thing Dex,” Xol replies agreeing, “Use that device of yours and tell it to rendezvous with us, then get us the hell out of here.”
“Will do sir,” Dex says affirmatively. “Any destination in particular you had in mind Xol?”
“Surprise me Dex,” Xol responds, his voice showing signs of his fatigue.
With a quick maneuver of the Wayfarer transport, Dex engages the hyperdrive and propels the ship away from Ilum, to parts unknown.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Shocked, the commander takes a few seconds to reply, “You’re bluffing, there is no way you could ever accomplish such a feat without my knowing.”
“You? Yes. Captain Salus, probably not.” Dex says cheekily. “I am a Republic Commando, trained to exploit the weaknesses of my enemy and use them as my strengths. Goodbye, Commander Tykon.
With a flick of a switch Dex stops communication and pull out a remote detonator. With a press of the lit red button sitting atop it, he looks back to Xol and says, “Brace yourself sir.”
As soon as he tells the Yautja to do so, a flash of white light streams through the forward viewport blinding Xol and Dex temporarily. Once their sight returns they see nothing but floating chunks of wreckage where the three star destroyers once were.
“Well,” Dex says with a laugh. “At least they dumped your fighter with the garbage before that happened!”
“Good thing Dex,” Xol replies agreeing, “Use that device of yours and tell it to rendezvous with us, then get us the hell out of here.”
“Will do sir,” Dex says affirmatively. “Any destination in particular you had in mind Xol?”
“Surprise me Dex,” Xol responds, his voice showing signs of his fatigue.
With a quick maneuver of the Wayfarer transport, Dex engages the hyperdrive and propels the ship away from Ilum, to parts unknown.
TO BE CONTINUED…
