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

With his apprentice Qiin in the medical bay, recuperating just feet from Wompit, Xol is furious as those he has come to care about fall beside him whilst he remains unharmed.

Lord Starkiller must have survived the decimation of the Interdictor Star Destroyer. Xol knows that the right hand of the Emperor should not have survived their encounter even with his powers in the Force.

The Yautja's wisdom has led him down only one logical path. Starkiller must have known ahead of time of the capabilities of the Gladiator class starship and prepared an escape. Now angered, Xol must determine who amongst his crew has betrayed him and given away their element of surprise earlier than expected...

The galley is empty save the vacant tables, and meal trays left over from the organic crew. Seated at the same table in the center of the room, watchfully looked on by Dex and his readied blaster is Mok Sur Tinn and Darth Maul. The Neimodian nervously glances over his shoulder at the armoured clone trooper whilst the Zabrak adjacent him, does nothing but meditate.

The personal droideka escorts of Mok Sur Tinn, known as Rolly and Rondo stand guard at the door. They part as Xol enters and activate their shield generators. His black helmet shines under the artificial lamps of the galley and his cloak flutters behind him like a second shadow. As he nears the table, he opens his cloak to reveal his lightsabers. The intimidation only flusters Mok further but Maul remains still.

“Gentlemen,” the Yautja begins. “I know this is not the actions of a trusting commander but I have brought you both here because of my limited crew, the both of you along with your compatriots are the only members that are not unquestionably loyal to me. You have said kind words of devotion but, those same words are like a weak dam. It is capable of only holding the water behind it for so long before finally it bursts.”

“Your point fallen master?” Maul impatiently growls. “I sat beside you at the time the battle was at it's zenith and you sent me away, and I without question followed your command. Perhaps it is this criminal scum you abducted that shutters like a spooked Bantha that you should be interrogating.”

“Calm yourself Lord Maul, you too were once my prisoner and yet, you claim you are far more loyal. I am merely trying to ascertain who is truthful and who is dead.”

“It wasn't my fault!” Mok shrieks. “It was Maul. He put me up to it. He convinced me that I would return to Ord Mantell a very rich man. He told me the Empire would reward me handsomely for saving Starkiller's life.”

“Silence Neimodian!” Darth Maul shouts as he draws his lightsaber.

The Sith Lord flips the table with his powers onto an already screaming Mok. This manoeuvre in turn, blocks Dex's blaster rifle shots. With a well executed sideways flip, Darth Maul leaps over the overturned table and kicks Dex in the head, putting him to the ground.

As this transpires, Xol draws his weapons and lashes out with arcs of lightning, however his Sith opponent deflects the attacks with his two-bladed saber and charges. In a flurry of lightsaber strikes, Maul violently lashes out against the Yautja. Xol is successful in parrying each attack but he can tell that this is not the same dark side practitioner he had defeated before.

From behind pulses of blaster fire flash across the galley and strike the distracted Zabrak Sith in the back, making him howl in anger but not fall even as the bolts rip through him. In a fit of rage Darth Maul explodes with Force power, blasting everyone and everything back from his vicinity. Xol to his surprise has been flung across the room while he can see Dex do the same, slamming against the bulkhead and falling in a heap. Maul pleased with this result walks toward the downed Clone commando, his lightsaber projecting only one blade so he can wield it one-handed. As the Zabrak passes the still panicked Mok Sur Tinn, he plunges his weapon into the Neimodian's body. With a sizzle, and a muffled scream, Mok dies and Maul continues his death march across the galley floor. Xol is still stunned by the blow he received from Maul's energy expulsion, but attempts to right himself to his feet anyway.

Darth Maul stands over the fallen, Dex and with his arms raised above his head, he points his lightsaber down is a stabbing motion. Xol senses his friends impending death and hurls both his sabers across the room like spears as well as simultaneously firing his plasma caster from his shoulder. As all three projectiles near Darth Maul, the Sith turns and with skillful Force manipulation, pushes the sabers aside and evades the blue plasma blast, allowing it to splash harmlessly against the wall behind him. Then with a snick, a painful expression washes over Maul's face and he yells out in agony before falling to the ground. Standing behind him, barely able to stand is Dex, who retracts a bloodstained concealed wristblade back into his forearm gauntlet.

Darth Maul is clearly still alive but incapacitated. Xol retrieving his weapons with the Force runs over to his companion's side.

“1165! are you hurt?” Xol asks.

“No sweat, big guy. Just knocked around a bit.” Dex laughs with a wheeze. “I think he broke a couples of my ribs but nothing a bacta bath won't fix. He won't be so fortunate.”

“What did you do Dex?”

“Nothin' special big guy. I don't need fancy Jedi training for me to know that the lumbar vertebrae on an unarmoured Zabrak is vulnerable to bayonet and knife strikes. He's still alive though, in case you needed him that way.”

“Well Mok is of no use to me now. Take yourself to the medical bay old friend, and I will deal with this treacherous Mynock.”

“No arguing there Xol, I'll say hello to Wompit and Qinn for you.”

The clone chuckles to himself as he slowly makes his way out of the galley. Xol follows behind dragging the limp body of Darth Maul behind him.

“Send a maintenance team down here to clean up this mess.” Xol says to Rolly as he passes through the doorway, exiting the room.

Hours later, Dex and a newly regenerated Wompit joke with one another while a medical droid uncouples both of them from the bacta tank intravenous tubes and sensors. The door to the medical bay opens with a hiss, and Xol steps through with determination. As he approaches the pair, he glances over at the still active tank containing Qiin. With sadness in his voice he asks, “droid, when will my apprentice be fully recovered?”
“I am sorry Master Xol,” the droid replies. “Lady Qiin's Nautolan physiology is mending well from the physical trauma but her higher brain functions and synapses have yet to fully repair. Interestingly, her midichlorians are also suffering from some sort of disruption, their motility is severely impaired.”

“You have equipment that can detect midichlorians?”

“Absolutely Master Xol, the facilities left here before your arrival were configured almost perfectly for the medical applications usually only found in Imperial Sith academy hospital facilities. Though my programming cannot assess exactly how to fix this condition at the moment, the information being provided is most certainly authentic.”

“Thank-you droid, you may return to your duties. Inform myself or General Kamino immediately should she regain consciousness.”

Compliant, the medical droid returns to its tasks and the Yautja continues to the bedsides of his newly healed friends.

“Wompit, I am glad to see you up and about.” Xol remarks, as he pats the brutish Savrip on the shoulder. “What you did was nothing short of heroic and I am honoured to have you as my friend.”

“You came down here to play kissy face with Wompit?” Dex jokes. “You'd think Master Xol would have better things to do than visit a couple of wounded space rats like us.”

“You're always a priority Dex.” Xol says sternly. “I have come though bearing news from Darth Maul's interrogation. Lord Starkiller was aboard a different vehicle inside the Interdictor. When she blew he already skirted away, making one last strike against me through Qiin. Starkiller is going to the shipyards of Hoth before embarking for Coruscant. He will be there only a few days so we must act fast.”

“What do you want us to do?” Dex asks.

“Starkiller already knows of the capabilities of this vessel and may be mounting a counterattack. What we must do is infiltrate Hoth space using the Wayfarer while the Gladiator hangs back just out of range waiting to attack if necessary.”

“Alright, sounds good. How do you suggest we gain access to a such a highly secured Imperial installation?”

“Trust me 1165. I have a plan. Come to the hangar in a few hours and bring Maul's men with you."
Xol, turns to leave and exits from the medical bay at a rapid pace.

“Yaknow what Wompit,” Dex asks turning to the Mantellian. “I got a bad feeling about this one.”

Wompit nods in agreement as the two of them don their clothing, armour and equipment.

Hours pass before an alert flashes across the console view screen at Xol's bridge station. The displays shows the six shipyards of the ice planet Hoth. Three massive Super Star Destroyers and countless other small vessels fly above it, whilst the superstructures of vessels remain moored in the yards, flashes from the welding torches of Imperial droids twinkle like stars in the blackness of the defence fleet. Xol runs his claw across the screen where the planet can be seen and with a clicking hiss, he rises from his command chair and proceeds out into the hall, heading towards the hangar bay. Droidekas roll alongside him, clattering against the hard, metal floor. As the Yautja and his droid entourage make their way into the hangar.

The expansive bay is a hurricane of activity. Droids scurry from place to place, readying the dozen or so vulture droids that will accompany the Wayfarer on it's mission. Beside Dex and Wompit is an assemblage of dark robed figures. They are the former associates of Darth Maul, and their worried faces bring a smile to Xol's.

“I know that you knew nothing of your master's treachery and for that I shall spare you on one condition.” Xol commands. “You must prove your loyalty by assisting me in the assassination of Lord Starkiller, the powerful right hand of this new emperor. Do as I ask and you will find yourself seating among my crew here on the ship. Now proceed to your posts and I will see you shortly.”

The Yautja ushers Dex over to him and whispers something into his ear before patting him on the back, sending him back toward the awaiting vessel.

“Droidekas you are with me,” Xol says as he raises his left wrist gauntlet up and accesses the command panel. He issues a manual command to the battle droids on board before proceeding up the gangway into the cargo section of the Wayfarer.

Dex and Wompit, along with the pilot droids march toward the pilot compartment whilst Xol remains in the loading bay with Darth Mauls remaining disciples. As he seats himself near them, they shoot scowls over in his direction and whisper amongst themselves. Xol unphased, begins to meditate as the Wayfarer makes it's departure from the hangar bay.

Behind the worn cargo vessel are a dozen vulture droids, flying in formation like an escort would. Occasionally glancing around their surroundings with their oblong droid heads, red eyes flaring outward into the darkness of space around them. To the droids surprise the Wayfarer slows, nearly coming to a stop, in response they circle to the pilot view screen with an assuring thumbs up, Dex waves them off.

Meanwhile in the cargo area, the stress has made the Sith very agitated and they draw their lightsabers.

“What is going on Master Xol?” the lead male asks. “Why have we stopped?”

“Because,” the Yautja explains. “Aboard every ship, there is always the risk of infestation by vermin. I am simply flushing out the Womprats. If Lord Maul was an Imperial agent, it is unlikely that he actually trained any of you. You were merely his accomplices. I give this last chance to denounce the Empire and pledge an oath of service to me.”

“Never Jedi scum!” the lead male answers, his lightsaber in an attack posture.

“As you wish. Xol says in a low tone. “Droidekas, execute them.”

With the flare of their spherical shields, the dual cannon wielding droids send volley after volley into the close-knit group of black robes. Though they can deflect most blasts, the sheer volume is too much and they all fall to the ground lifeless, from repeated strikes, their bodies smouldering.

As the Yautja walks over to the smoking corpses he can feel the dark side of the Force leaving their bodies, dissipating all around him. Xol kneels down beside them, for the first time, he flips one of their hoods over hoping to put a face to such devotion finally. To his shock and surprise, each one looks to be an adolescent Zabrak, identical to Darth Maul save the distinctive tattoos each one had.

“Damned Project Rebirth!” Xol shouts in the stillness of the cargo bay before opening a commlink channel. “Dex, this is Xol.”

“What's going on big guy?” Dex responds, confused. “We got readings of blaster fire back there. Are you okay?”

“Fine Dex. Do me a favour though, dump the trash.”

“Aye aye, big guy. Dumping the trash quicker than a Jawa strips a speeder.”

With a flick of his hand, Xol manipulates the cargo bay control panel on the wall through the Force to lower the containment door. As it slams into place, the rear bay doors open and the dead bodies of Darth Mauls followers float off into the blackness of space, silent and still. Xol turns away from the sight and proceeds up to the pilot compartment. He passes Wompit in the common area, hungrily eating a nutrient pack whilst playing a game of automated Dejarik. The Savrip pauses momentarily to nod in respect of Xol before returning to his activities. As the Yautja enters the pilot section, he is greeted by a customary wave from Dex and he seats himself at the rear console.

“So big guy, I take it by that last load of garbage that Darth Maul's cronies weren't willing to fight with us anymore?” Dex asks after spinning around in his chair to face Xol.

“They were clones, Dex. Byproducts of Project Rebirth, for them their was no alternative path.”

“You do remember that I am a clone?” Dex replies, feigning insult.

“Yes but the attributes that make you an individual, do not exist in these barbaric puppets of the Empire. They do not have free thought, only the dogmatic effluence that is forced into their mind upon creation. Back before the Gladiator, I should have listened to you and not believed that Darth Maul would be a good ally against the Empire.”

“Listen, hindsight aside. You always know what to do no matter the situation. I respect that about you, and that is why I trust you in all your endeavours. Some of your plans don't exactly work out as you or I expect, but they do work out because of you. Were it not for your judgement I would still be in that slum of a bar on Ord Mantell and Wompit would have been food for a tribe of Gamorreans by now. We all owe you our lives Xol and we will make sure that those debts are repaid in full, with interest. So quit stressing about the past and focus on the present. I'm about to hit the hyperdrive and punch it to Hoth, so the last thing I need right now is a conflicted Xol. Now strap in, we're going for another ride. Attention all vultures, this is General Kamino, prepare for the jump to lightspeed.”

With the thrust forward of throttle on Dex's console, the Wayfarer and the escort droid fighters plunge into hyperspace. Less than one half hour later, they emerge into a maelstrom of metal and fightercraft. The yards of Hoth are more imposing in real life than any display could convey. The ships moored here are so near completion they look as if they could ignite their engines at any moment. Dex reduces his speed as to not seem hostile.

“Alright big guy,” the commando shouts back from his station. “You're on. They've got a planet based ion cannon locked on and ready to fire, so it's safe to say we aren't going anywhere in a hurry.”

“Open a channel to the planet and be ready to punch it if this doesn't work.”

With a flip of a few toggles, a communications link is established by Dex and Xol begins to speak.

“Imperial base, we have been sent to convey a message from our Lord, Darth Maul in person to Lord Starkiller it is of the utmost urgency. It is in regards to the Jedi rebel known as Xol.”

“This is Grand Admiral JerJerrod, submit your authorization code now or you will be fired upon and then we shall see how true your story is.”

“Very well, Grand Admiral.” Xol responds. “We are sending you the code now, this is for your eyes only as we cannot compromise our identity.”

“As you wish, send your authorization code to this frequency.” the Admiral commands as a series of numbers flash across Dex's display.

“Dex, send a garbled bunch of static on that frequency.” Xol shouts before focusing his mind with the Force.

Through Xol's gifts, he projects his thoughts along with the signal, attempting to fool the Admiral into believing that what he is seeing is authentic. Only the weak of mind can be overcome in such feats but Xol is optimistic in his belief that top Imperial officers are all somewhat idiotic due to an overinflated ego.

“Transport, we are sending you landing coordinates now. You may proceed.” Jerjerrod responds after a long pause.

“Admiral, to keep our presence relatively inconspicuous,” Xol explains. “We will be sending a lone fighter craft to the surface without escort.”

“As you wish, transport. We await your arrival.”

The comlink turns off and with a whir, Dex spins round in his chair to say “Xol, are you out of your mind? Do you think that you are just going to walk in there alone, kill Starkiller and then escape back here?”

“No I don't Dex,” Xol replies in earnest. “I expect you to leave for the ship after I depart in my fighter. Make sure no one follows you and await my instruction. If you have to move, do so but do not openly attack the Empire until I give you the go ahead.”

“Alright Xol. I trust you.”

Dex's voice fills with a sense of calm and understanding as he turns around in his chair. He proceeds to hit switches on his control console that unlock the moorings for the fighter being held in the cargo bay. When he turns to look at Xol's console he sees that the Yautja has already left.

Xol straps himself into the fighter and after a few minutes is allowed to disembark from the cargo hatch of the Wayfarer transport. As he configures the autopilot, he can see on his detection screen the blips that would be Dex and the vulture droids disappear obviously going into hyperspace. With a moment to reflect, he follows the flightpath set out by the navigational computer and comes to land on the planet's surface. It's harsh wintry surface, reminds Xol of his adventure on Ilum, though Hoth seems much more inhospitable. Breaking through the snowy terrain, the metallic grey of Imperial structures are like a mechanical mountain range. Near the centre of this complex is a large landing area, accommodating all manner of vessels. Xol's SoroSuub patrol craft glides into place on the icy surface, it's landing jets thawing out the pad slightly. The canopy opens and Xol is greeted not only by intense cold but by armed snowtrooper escort.

He follows the guard detail to a lift that brings them below the brutal surface and down into a well built facility bustling with activity. They escort him into an empty hangar that is only partially constructed. Support beams and scrap metal lie about while loader droids continue to bring more of the rubbish in.

The guards leave the Yautja without so much as an instruction as what to do, but he knows. He senses the presence of Lord Starkiller and he knows that this will be the final place that the right hand of the Emperor will stand. Just like Vader before him, Xol knows he must bring him down, here and now despite what may occur afterwards as a result.

“Master Xol.” Starkiller's all too familar voice says from the shadows across the hangar. “I knew Jerjerrod was weak, and that you would exploit that weakness. Brave of you to come alone without your friends or that interesting ship of yours. The Emperor will be most pleased when I have taken it and you into custody.”

“We both know soft meat that you will not live beyond the next few minutes.” Xol snaps back. “You are nothing more than a bandage on a seeping wound left by Vader and his Emperor before him. You could have seized power when I struck down your master but it appears that he overestimated you. In the end, you are a weak, scared little boy without a father to hold your hand.”

With a scream of rage, two lightsabers ignite in a reverse grip, one black, the other ice blue. With steady steps, Starkiller comes further into the light at the centre of the room. Standing only feet away from Xol, the new Dark Lord of the Sith clenches his every muscle in anticipation. His artificial breathing reminiscent of his master but much less laboured.

As Xol draws his weapons from his belt, the powerful Sith makes his move. With a powerful burst of forward energy he throws the Yautja back into a pile of construction materials. Without taking a rest, he leaps into the air and unleashes a torrent of lightning that charges the air with white light. The attack results in a pile of dense slag that is glowing red and vaporizing the surrounding ice formations. Starkiller, pleased with himself walks over to the pile with weapons in hand. Scanning the surface, he can see no indicator that Xol made it out and it entombed the Yautja in military grade metal. Not one to settle, the powerful Sith, erupts with more lightning from his forward reaching hands, continuing to heat and liquefy the metal. Once his energy is spent, Starkiller falls to his knees in delight and his maniacal laughter fills the empty chamber.

“Give your master my regards, Darth Starkiller...” Xol says as he phases upward from the floor below, his abilities allowing him to pass through the solid metal and rock underneath. The outline of his invisible form is all Starkiller sees before Xols wristblade perforates his flesh sending blood streaming down the front of the Sith Lord's body.

“You can kill me monster but you'll never defeat my Emperor!” Starkiller chokes out, his mechanical voice, garbled from strain.

“We'll see,” Xol replies as he swiftly beheads Starkiller with the lightsaber in his other hand. “For now, rest dark lord, I shall see you in the void.”

“You just might,” a deep voice says from behind Xol. “my foolish apprentice.”

Terrible pain surges through the Yautja's body as a lightsaber pierces the back of his armour coming through to exit his chest plate. Xol looks down to see a deep crimson blade, protruding out from where his heart should be, it is at such an angle that he know it has severed his spine. The blade's colour is so distinctive that only one wields it other than himself. As he falls to the cold metal floor besides the corpse of Lord Starkiller, his final dying breath can only produce one word.
“Blades...”


TO BE CONCLUDED...