Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga X, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

    "I can assure you, Shockwave, that we had nothing to do with Nova Point's bombing."

    "You can say that a thousand times, and I will still remain unconvinced."

    Ultra Magnus sighed in exasperation. With each act the Fallen and his party committed, the Autobot and Decepticons' alliance grew more and more tense. It didn't help that their latest target was a famous Decepticon landmark.

    "Look, Shockwave," he said sternly, leaning across his desk. "I am just as upset as you are about this incident. Nova Point was a historic landmark even before Trannis' big speech, and it is an absolute shame to see it wiped out. It's clear that the Fallen- or someone working for him- was behind this."

    "There is certainly a seventy-five percent chance that that is the case," Shockwave said. "But the twenty-five percent suggests that your Autobots destroyed it to provoke us."

    Ultra Magnus felt his mouth fall open, unable to believe what he was hearing.

    "Why do you even care?" he murmured. "How can Nova Point mean anything to you? You weren't with the Decepticons on Declaration Day; you were still one of us, serving on the High Council."

    Shockwave was silent for a moment before saying quietly, "I am not speaking for myself when I provide these statistics, Ultra Magnus. Like you said, I couldn't care less about Nova Point. But some Decepticons might think differently."

    "Ah," Ultra Magnus murmured, leaning back into his seat. "You're saying that some Decepticons might break off from the alliance."

    Shockwave nodded. "For every Starscream, there is a Lugnut. I would be on the look out, if I were you."

    "I see. Well, then, thank you for the warning." Ultra Magnus then narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the violet-armored Decepticon. "Why aren't you still with us?"

    If Shockwave had been taken aback by the sudden question, he did not show it. "Why would I still be with you?"

    "You were one of the very few councilors not corrupted by power... and now you are one of Megatron's top generals. What changed?"

    "I did," was all Shockwave said before leaving Magnus' office.

*  *  *

    "So pretty much everyone said no?"

    Standing with Nightbeat outside the closed-down Maccadam's Old Oil House, Hardhead nodded. "Everyone on your list at least. Brainstorm's too busy with his top secret project, Chromia wasn't interested, Hotlink just laughed in my face...."

    "What about Windblade?" Nightbeat asked.

    "Couldn't find her. Chromia said I might find her with the Aerialbots, but they told me that they hadn't seen her... or Jetfire."

    Nightbeat frowned. "Oh, no...."

    "Think it means something?"

    "Think about it, Hardhead. Grimlock, Alpha Trion, Beta Maxx, Hot Spot, and now Windblade and Jetfire... there must be some sort of theme going on here."

    "Well, I'm not seeing it," Hardhead muttered. "The only think they have in common is that they're Autobots... and have red in their color scheme."

    "It must be something beyond that," Nightbeat said. "Perhaps its connected to Alpha Trion; that bot is a total mystery."

    "There's tons of rumors about him. Some say he's one of the Knights of Cybertron, others think he's a descendant of the Thirteen."

    "Things like that won't do us any good." As soon as he said that, something clicked in Nightbeat's head.

    Thirteen. The Fallen. Descendant.

    No doubt seeing the smirk creeping up on his face, Hardhead said, "Uh-oh. He's got an idea...."

    "I think we should pay Emirate Xaaron a visit."

    "...And he's lost me." 

*  *  *

    Night had fallen on Crystal City.

    Not the Crystal City that had once stood on Cybertron. Sure, it looked the same, with its spotless, magnificent buildings, gleaming in the moonlight... but it was not the one Ginrai had visited frequently on Cybertron. Of course, that Crystal City was long gone.

    Sitting next to him on a ledge that overlooked the city, Ginrai's stalwart companion and apprentice Wing Dagger said, "Why don't you trust him?"

    Ginrai did not so much as glance at him. "Who? The new guy?"

    "His name is Drift," Wing Dagger said. "And he's not really new since he's been with us for nearly seven years."

    "I don't see him as one of us," Ginrai said irritably. "He's little more than a hanger-on. And who knows if he's planning on summoning his Decepticon friends here."

    Wing Dagger opened his mouth, about ready to retort, when he and Ginrai noticed a flash of light down below. Exchanging glances, the two of them got up and gracefully dropped down from the ledge. Before they could touch ground, Ginrai suddenly felt himself hoisted up in the air by his feet, while Wing Dagger was sent crashing into a building.

    As Ginrai was slowly lowered down, his assailant came into view. Tall and heavily armed, the stranger was armored in all-black with strands of flame surrounding his body. His similarly fiery eyes bore into Ginrai's as their faces became level.

    "So, this is one of Dai Atlas' apprentices," the stranger murmured. "I am not impressed."

    Ginrai glared at him as he struggled to release himself from the invisible hold on him. "Who the Pit are you?"

    "I am the Fallen. You are my captive. It's as simple as that."

    Ginrai was about to snap at him, as well as struggle against the Fallen's unseen grip, when Crystal City suddenly vanished all around them and was replaced by a dark chamber. He then let out a yell as he was dropped into a capsule of sorts.

    "Do not bother struggling," the Fallen said as he moved to close the capsule. "You will never see the light again."

    Ginrai let out a series of curses and expletives at his captor but was forever silenced as the lid slammed shut.

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga X, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

    "I'm feeling a bit of 'deja vu' here," Brainstorm muttered. "And not in a good way."

    The self-proclaimed Autobot Genius moved about his (rather small) lab within the new Autobot HQ while Nightbeat and Hardhead watched him. Brainstorm was clearly not as comfortable here as he was at Kimia Facility, where he had more access to materials. But like a lot of Kimia's personnel, he had been recalled here for assistance in sustaining Cybertron after the Cataclysm.

    "Look," Nightbeat said, "I'm really sorry to bother you, but we need someone clever who can get us out of stick situations."

    "And I would love to do just that," Brainstorm replied in a not-so-sincere tone. "But I'm pretty busy at the moment."

    Hardhead scoffed. "What could possibly be more worth your time? A magic wand that can restore Cybertron, end this war, and make Megatron deliver us presents while wearing a frilly Nebulan maid outfit?"

    "Not... exactly," Brainstorm said, giving him an odd look. "I mean... it's not a wand, but it could be able to do those things....."

    Nightbeat sighed, rubbing his temple. "So, are you in or out?"

    Before the self-certified genius could reply, the ground shook violently. Nightbeat pushed past Hardhead and Brainstorm to reach the latter's window. Outside was a scene that would hardly make his day better.

    Nova Point was on fire.

*  *  *

    "So it just exploded? Just like that?"

    Standing before the flaming tower with several Protectobots, Inferno solemnly nodded. "Like someone threw a bunch of grenades from within. Should we head in there to find what exactly caused it?"

    Hot Spot, chief of the Protectobots, shook his head. "Too dangerous. Besides, this place has been around for as long as anyone can remember and hasn't been used since Declaration Day. I doubt anyone would've been inside to cause it or-"

    "Help! Help me!" a voice cried out from inside the building.

    His optics dilated. Spoke too soon.

    Pushing past the other Protectobots, ignoring their protesting calls, Hot Spot rushed into the tower, bracing the raging flames.

    "Help!" He followed the cry up a set of spiraling metal stairs, which threatened to break apart with each step he took. Upon reaching the final step, the entire staircase collapsed behind him, robbing him of an escape path.

    The key word being an, of course. He had jumped out of plenty windows before.

    "Help me!" The cries were getting closer. He traced them to the Observation Bay and and rushed to it, only to find the entrance wedged close. With all of his might, he threw his body against the door until it finally broke open.

    Just as he staggered into the room, a large figure emerged from the flames and seized him by the neck.

    "Help me," it hissed before Hot Spot was consumed by darkness.

*  *  *

    "Hot Spot? Chief, come in!"

    Inferno looked frantically from his comlink to the blazing tower. "I've lost him. He's not responding."

    "Blades, fly up there and see if you can spot him," Heatwave ordered.

    The red helicopter bot nodded as he transformed into his alt mode and hovered up towards the peak of the tower. He soon reported, "No sign of him."

    "Frag," Heatwave muttered. "Let's clear the area. This place is about to fall on top of us."

    As the Protectobots began to evacuate the vicinity, Inferno could have sworn he caught the silhouette of a figure moving through the flames, but the urgent calls from Heatwave and the others diverted his attention.

*  *  *

    "That's another one down," Bugly muttered, still wincing from his earlier crash. "How many to go?"

    "Seven," Bludgeon replied as he, Bugly, and Mindwipe traveled through a passage deep underneath Cybertron, dragging the unconscious Hot Spot. "The Fallen is no doubt growing impatient with our progress. He has already captured four in roughly the same amount of time we have captured merely one."

    Bugly sneered. "Have you seriously been keeping track?"

    Bludgeon stopped only to shoot him a glare. When Bugly's optics dilated in fear and he took backed off from him, Bludgeon turned around and resumed walking.

    The three of them eventually reached a circular chamber. At its center was a large, golden plate which their master, the Fallen, stood atop. Connected to the plate were thirteen capsules, three of which were filled with captured Cybertronians. While the rest were vacant, there was one in particular that caught Bludgeon's notice.

    "Grimlock is missing," he muttered.

    "No, he isn't," the Fallen said, his ancient voice resonating throughout the chamber. "I have sent him away to the Jungle Planet to... properly tap into his primal spirit. He will be back with us shortly."

    Bludgeon grunted as he unceremoniously dropped Hot Spot to the ground. "Anyway, here's another to add to the collection. I understand that our progress is slow going."

    "Yes, it certainly is," the Fallen said coldly. "I expected better from the three of you."

    "We actually had the opportunity to catch another of our targets earlier," Bugly said bitterly. "But Bludgeon had us let her escape."

    Bludgeon whirled towards Bugly, ready to tear his companion apart, when the Fallen used his telekinetic powers to turn him back around without laying a hand on him.

    "Is that so?" the fiery being hissed. "In that case, Bugly, you may handle the target Bludgeon allowed to escape. Mindwipe, you shall handle the one known as Jetfire. Make haste. Time is short."

    Once Bugly and Mindwipe had quickly transformed and taken off from the chamber, the Fallen returned his attention to Bludgeon, who, for once, was cowed by his presence.

    "As for you, Bludgeon... you and I shall handle a target together."

    Bludgeon nodded curtly. "Who would that be?"

    "A member of the Circle of Light named Ginrai. Shall we go to Theophany and procure him?"

    "Of course, master."

    Without another word, the Fallen placed a hand on his shoulder and they were gone.

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga X, Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

    The stream of data reflected in his visor, Highbrow closely scrutinized the heavily-encrypted info Rewind had recovered from Polyhex. Standing on either side of him were Ultra Magnus and, much to his discomfort, Shockwave, both observing the data with him.

    "Straxus clearly treasured this particular piece of data more than anything," Highbrow mused aloud. "It would take forever to decipher hit."

    "Straxus is still among your forces, is he not?" Ultra Magnus asked Shockwave.

    The mono-eyed Decepticon shook his head. "Lord Megatron dispatched him and other warlords to worlds far away from New Kaon to stall any attempts to overthrow him. No one knows his current location but Megatron himself."

    Ultra Magnus raised an eyebrow. "I would think someone as highly ranked as you would have the privilege to know such information."

    "Our command hierarchy is not exactly similar to yours, Autobot."

    Highbrow cleared his throat, hoping to diffuse the tension. "So, er, how do you propose we figure this out?"

    "I believe we can save this until another day," Shockwave said dismissively. "I highly doubt it is relevant to our conflict with the Fallen."

    "I... agree," Ultra Magnus muttered. "We should attend to that piece of info later and continue our search for the Fallen."

    Highbrow frowned. "But what if Straxus does know something about the Fallen? This could be vital data."

    "Straxus never believed in such myths," Shockwave said. "Part of why he did not accompany Nova Prime on the original Ark despite having been part of his inner circle; he did not believe in what Nova ventured for." 

    Highbrow looked doubtfully at the one-eyed Decepticon but merely shrugged in consent. Once the two leaders had left his side however, he opened a private comm channel to one of his agents, whom he thought would be ideal in handling a case like this.

    "Nightbeat, I have a job for you...."

*  *  *

    Hardhead grunted as his Decepticon opponent slammed her fist into his abdomen. Staggering back, he tried to regather his thoughts quickly before the 'Con could attack again. As the massive tank of a Cybertronian threw another punch, Hardhead dodged it by jumping to the side.

    Watching the fight from nearby, a spindly, maroon-colored Decepticon cackled. "So much for being the 'toughest Autobot ever.' How 'bout bein' the lamest Autobot ever?"

    Hardhead scowled. "No one asked you, Roadkill."

    "And no one asked you to pick a fight with me," growled his opponent Blockade, the smokestacks on her shoulders blowing out steam. "And yet you consider us to be the oppressors."

    "I wasn't trying to pick fights, just wanted a challenge is all. A little fighting practice never hurt  anyone."

    "Except the loser." Blockade charged and rammed into Hardhead, sending the latter flying off his feet and landing hard on the ground. As he scrambled to get up, the larger Cybertronian pummeled him with her mighty fists, preventing him from rising.

    "Okay," he shouted in between punches. "I concede. You win. Just stop pounding me!"

    "What's the matter?" Blockade said tauntingly. "Whatever happened to Mr. Toughest Autobot Ever?"

    "He was waiting for an opportunity."

    Before Blockade could react, a cannon folded out of Hardhead's right shoulder and fired a missile into her face. The silver and black 'Con reared back as she recoiled from the attack. At the same time, Roadkill jumped in between the two combatants and unfurled his saw-flail.

    "Wanna play dirty, eh?" he cackled. "Fine by me!"

    "That's enough fighting for one day."

    The three combatants turned to see a blue and yellow mech standing there, hands planted firmly on his hips.

    Smirking, Hardhead said, "Hey there, Nightbeat. What's up?"

    Frowning, Nightbeat said, "Picking fights, I see."

    "Challenges," Roadkill said with a maniacal grin. "And if you don't mind, we would like to finish this one here."

    "Not today," Nightbeat said coolly. "If you don't mind, Hardhead, I'd like to speak with you."

    The large green Autobot shrugged. "Okay."

    The two Autobots moved away from Blockade and Roadkill, and once the troublesome duo were out of hearing range, Hardhead said quietly to Nightbeat, "So, what's up?"

    "Highbrow wants to find out Straxus' current whereabouts," Nightbeat replied. "Apparently he's not on Cybertron with Shockwave's forces, nor on Lucifer, but somewhere else in the galaxy."

    "Not even Shockwave knows where he is?"

    The detective 'bot shook his head. "Only Megatron does, and he sent Straxus away shortly after the war broke out. Who knows what he's been up to since then."

    Hardhead slowly nodded. "So you need me to help find him?"

    "You and others. There's a good chance Straxus is cooking up something to take out Megatron and I cannot begin to fathom handling this on my own."

    Hardhead cracked a grin. "Then you can count me in. Who else is coming along?"

    Nightbeat returned the smile. "That's kind of why I need you; to be a recruiter."

*  *  *

    "Are the charges ready?"

    The Pyrobot he had hired nervously nodded his head. "Y-yes, sir. They're all primed for detonation."

    "Excellent," Bludgeon hissed, rising from the cross-legged meditative position he had been in. "I am grateful for your services, though I have no way to repay you...."

    "Th-there's no need," the Pyrobot said. "Really. I just want to go home...."

    "'Home?'" Bludgeon spoke the word with spite. "This isn't our home anymore. Why else would we have ravaged and torn it apart so much?"

    Before the Pyrobot could respond, Bludgeon unsheathed a blade and plunged it through the mech's chest and into his spark.

    "We don't belong here anymore," Bludgeon murmured into his audio receptor. "Cybertron doesn't want us."

    As the Pyrobot's lifeless corpse slid off his blade, Bludgeon brought out the detonator connected to the bombs placed around Nova Point, one of the few remaining structures still standing in the once-beautiful city of Iacon.

    "Let it burn."

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga X, Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

    Tailgate groaned as he inched closer to the energon rations in his trailer. This escape of his would be going faster if he didn't keep passing out. He had half the mind to run a diagnosis on his systems to figure out the problem, but felt too weak to do so. Instead, he simply continued to crawl towards the trailer.

    Stay focused. Keep calm. You're nearly there.

    After passing out for about the sixth time in an hour, he awoke with a worried thought: what if this plan failed? What if he was doomed to be stuck down here forever?

    No, he told himself. Keep calm. You're gonna make it, Tailgate.

    Besides, he reminded himself, he was too important to just be ignored, forgotten about. It was, after all, him who convinced the Prime to disembark from Cybertron. He was a champion kick-boxer, one of Omega Supreme's top students, a graduate of the Ibex School of Epistemology. He had a reputation proceeding him!

    He once again reached for the energon... and collapsed once more.

*  *  *

    "Retrieval Team to Watchout Team. We've got trouble."

    Lifting herself up, Windblade peered over her hiding spot and grimaced. Heading towards Chromedome, Rewind, and Shellshock's position were two fliers- one black and maroon, the other violet and gray.

    "Wonderful," she muttered. "Hang in there, Chromedome. Red Wing and I are on the way."

    "Last one there eats my dust!" Red Wing cackled as he transformed into his jet mode and took off towards the two mysterious fliers.

    Windblade rolled her eyes as she did the same. Of all the Seekers she had to be paired up with, it had to be the one whose personality not even his fellow Decepticons could tolerate.

    Advancing towards the unidentified pair, she got a lock on the purple jet and fired, scoring a hit on their left wing. A pained cry emitted from the flier as it plummeted towards the ground, crashing headfirst into a small building.

    "Amateur," she heard Red Wing scoff. "Shooting down a rookie is no amazing feat."

    "How do you know it was a rookie?" Windblade retorted. "Do you have files on every single flier on Cybertron?"

    "I recognized that particular one," the Seeker snapped back. "His name's Bugly and-"

    He was cut off by a barrage of fire coming from two separate directions. The assault was enough to tear off both of the Seeker's wings, causing him to crash as well. Windblade quickly morphed to her robot mode, landing with more grace, and unsheathed her energy-sword as she searched for the source of the attack.

    Approaching her position were Chromedome, Rewind, and Shellshock, who transformed from their vehicle modes and bore their weapons as well, forming a defensive circle with Windblade around the fallen Red Wing.

    "I don't see the black flier anymore," Rewind said quietly, hiding behind Chromedome's leg for he lacked weapons of his own. "Did you guys shoot him down?"

    "No," Windblade said. "He vanished after I shot down Bugly. He could be-"

    "There he is," Shellshock grunted, raising his multi-barreled cannon towards a far-away winged figure. "I've got him."

    Just as he was about to fire, Shellshock suddenly swung his large cannon and hit Chromedome with it, sending him flying onto his back.

    "Hey!" Rewind shouted, rushing to Chromedome's aid. "What the scrap was that for?"

    "I didn't mean to do that!" Shellshock snapped, trying to return his aim to the winged figure. "It's like someone invisible hand pushed me!"

    "It's Mindwipe," Chromedome muttered as he stood up. "That's his trick; he can hypnotize people and control them."

    "Well, I don't feel hypnotized! How can he get a lock on me?"

    "Your mind is like an open book, Shellshock," an eerie voice spoke out, echoing all around them. "You announce your next move before you perform it. You let people know that they're going to die by merely saying their name."

    "You're next, Mindwipe!" Shellshock bellowed, swinging his cannon all around him. "I'll kill you with my bare hands if I have to! I'll-"

    In the midst of swinging his weapon, the barrel of his cannon ended up pressing against his head and, against his will, he fired it. As his smoldering, headless corpse fell to the ground, the crashed jet form of Red Wing morphed into robot mode, moving around in a daze.

    "Ugh. What-?" The Seeker's eyes fell upon Shellshock's corpse and fury contorted his features as he looked back up at the Autobots. "Oh, so much for an alliance, eh? Well, in that case-"

    "Shut up," Windblade hissed, hitting him in the face with the hilt of her sword. "We need to get out of here. I can support a certain amount of weight, so when I turn into jet mode, you cling onto my back while Chromedome and Rewind hold onto my tail fin."

    "Well, what are you waiting for?" Red Wing snapped. "Transform and fly out!"

    "But what if you get shot down like Red Wing?" Rewind asked Windblade as she converted into her jet mode. "That attack came out of nowhere and-"

    "Got any better ideas?" Windblade said sharply. "Just grab on already."

*  *  *

    "They're getting away," Mindwipe hissed as the three Autobots and single Decepticon fled from the scene. "Why do we not take pursuit?"

    "I already told you," the mech standing next to him growled. "Our purpose is to scare them. We want them to report to their superiors about us. That way, they will eventually send out our targets one-by-one, straight into our hands, not knowing what they are doing."

    Mindwipe narrowed his eyes. "But that fem-bot was one of our targets as well. Why don't we capture her now?"

    "We will eventually. For now, recover Bugly and return to the hideout. I will commence the next act and draw out our next victim."

    The winged hypnotist eyed his leader skeptically but did not question him further, instead moving to carry out his orders. He knew better than to question the Fallen's chosen herald.

Transformers Regenerated: Unicron Saga X, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

    It's going to be all right, Tailgate. No one's going to hurt you.

    He could still remember the soothing words of his caretaker as if they had been spoken only yesterday. When he had first been forged, he was absolutely terrified of everything around him. Only the calm, sweet voice of his caretaker could quell those fears.

    And now, sitting against an underground cave wall, with both of his legs missing, he really wished his guardian was here.

    Happy thoughts, Tailgate. Happy thoughts are key. Just like Rungian therapy; find your happy place.

    He groaned. Obviously his mind was totally oblivious to what had just happened. How could he have been so dumb? Taking a shortcut across the Mitteous Plateau, the most fragile terrain of all of Cybertron... if he hadn't taken his little detour, he would have reached the Ark by now.

    Great, he thought bitterly. Without him, the voyage was doomed.

    Moaning in despair, his attention turned to the energon rations he had been transporting. Suddenly, an idea lit in his mind: if he could crawl towards the energon, he could detonate them and blast himself out. Of course, given his condition, it could take anywhere from a minute to a day to reach the energon. But with his chronometer damaged, it hardly made a difference. And if he did miss the Ark's launch, he could at least get word out to the ship to pick him up.

    Tailgate chuckled to himself as he began to crawl towards the energon. Maybe he wasn't so dumb after all.

*  *  *

    To say that Chromedome was not happy with this loose alliance between the Autobots and the Decepticons would have been an understatement.

    It wasn't just that the 'Cons acted all acted "high-and-mighty" and regarded anyone who wasn't one of their own as inferiors- though that certainly was a factor. But it was also because the one Decepticon he had to be teamed up with was responsible for the deaths of at least twelve people he knew. 

    And was joking about it.

    "I've killed more Autobots than you can count on both hands in less time than this 'pick-up' is taking," muttered the Decepticon known as Shellshock. "That skinny friend of yours sure is taking his sweet little time."

    "His name is Rewind," Chromedome said bitterly. "If you're gonna be stuck with us, at least take the time to know our names and remember them."

    Shellshock sneered. "You wouldn't want that to happen. If I remember the name of someone, that means they're marked for death, and I'm going to put their name on the same plaque their head's gonna be on. So if you ever hear me utter your name- or your friend's- then you'd better start running. Not that you'd get far."

    If Chromedome had a pair of optics rather than a visor, he would have rolled them. He actually would have tolerated this alliance a bit more if these 'Cons weren't so talkative. 

    Activating the communicator on his right arm, Chromedome said, "Rewind, how are things going in there?"

    "Slow, Domey," came the reply. "Whoever last owned Darkmount's archives loved encrypting even last thing... even a recipe of baked energon pie."

    Chromedome sighed. Their mission had been to visit the ruins of Darkmount (the old one in Polyhex, not the new one on Lucifer) and download its archives if they were still intact. Neither Chromedome, Rewind or Shellshock were told why they would be downloading the archives.

    "Well, try to hurry it up, buddy," Chromedome then said. "This place creeps me out at night and the Fallen could be watching us from who knows where."

    "I'll try, Domey. Rewind out."

    As he ended the connection, Chromedome heard a snort and he glanced at Shellshock, was was visibly chuckling.

    "'Domey,' huh?" the Decepticon said. "Is that a common nickname for you?"

    "Call me that and you'll be marked for death."

*  *  *

    Sifting through Darkmount's datalogs, trying to decipher them, Rewind couldn't help but wonder why hand the others had been sent here. The temporarily-united Autobots and Decepticons' goal was to find the being who called himself the Fallen and put a stop to his machinations. And so far none of what he was finding looked useful to that specific situation.

    Battle plans for the Fifth Battle of Polyhex, schematics for the Death Dagger, a secret message from Trannis... all of this had been made during the First Great War many millennia ago and was now obsolete. 

    He was half-considering bringing this seemingly futile endeavor to a stop when he crossed something that piqued his interest: a personal document created by Darkmount's former ruler himself, Straxus. Seeing that it was the most heavily encrypted thing he had come across so far, Rewind decided to download it into his personal memory banks so that more skilled intelligence agents could decipher it.

    After another twenty minutes, he found nothing else of use and so decided to stop his work there. At the same time, his communicator beeped and he answered it to hear Chromedome speak.

    "You done yet, Rewind?"

    "All done, Domey," Rewind said. "Only found one thing of use though."

    "That's fine, just as long as we can get it to High Command, and fast."

    "Why the rush? Does the Fallen have turbofoxes prowling on us?"

    "Not turbofoxes," Chromedome muttered. "More like two unaligned fliers tracking us."

    Rewind felt his spark drop. "Oh."

THE DARK AGE

Part 3: The Hidden Enemy

Star Wars Endgame: Episode III, Chapter Ten and Epilogue

CHAPTER TEN

    Much to Face's surprise- and again, mild concern- Moff Lecersen was actually willing to be put under arrest. After informing his guests that the party was over, he peacefully accompanied the Wraiths back to the Liberator, where he was placed in a holding cell.

    As the Liberator left Orinda and headed back for Coruscant, Face brought Captain Wallen Nix with him to Lecersen's cell, in the hopes of addressing a pressing concern unrelated to the conspiracy he was suspected of.

    "Where is Zilaash Kuh?"

    Lecersen looked up at the two men. "I beg your pardon."

    "An agent of mine by that name ceased responding shortly before we apprehended you," Face said. "Where is she?"

    The Moff seemed hesitant to reply. "Ah, yes. I do not know the name, but I do recall encountering an Anzat woman."

    "What did you do with her?" Wallen asked.

    "I had an accomplice of mine remove her and her partner from my quarters. They should be back on Coruscant, safe and sound."

    Face's brow furrowed. "Partner?"

*  *  *

    Upon landing his ship at a docking bay on Coruscant, Mal Banvor rose from his pilot seat and turned to the unmoving bodies of Kadar and Jesmin Tainer.

    "You can drop the unconscious ploy," the Skakoan said. "It's one of the oldest tricks in the book."

    Jesmin raised her head to look at Banvor. "Why have you brought us to Coruscant? You told Xalren that you were taking us to Metalorn."

    "Xalren is rather gullible," Banvor said. "I knew that right off the bat when he believed my claim of being Mal Banvor. I guess all Skakoans look the same to him."

    Kadar craned his head. "You mean, you're not...?"

    The Skakoan shook his head. "Hrym Mawarr is the name. Bounty hunter and Galactic Alliance Security personnel." He nodded at Jesmin. "You know me, Zilaash."

    "Yes, I believe we've met once or twice," Jesmin murmured. "So, mind telling us what's going on?"

    "Later," Mawarr said. "Director Girdun is waiting for you."

*  *  *

    Straightening his uniform and combing his dark hair, Director Heol Girdun of GA Intelligence sat across from Jesmin and Kadar, while Hrym Mawarr loomed behind him.

    "Loran just doesn't know when to give up, does he?" Girdun said to no one in particular. "His first mistake was bringing back Wraith Squadron right under my nose."

    Jesmin gave him a scathing look. "How did you find out?"

    "I figured it," Girdun replied, smiling mirthlessly. "When I needed Loran for a case, I couldn't get into contact with him, nor Captain Nix. When I found out that the Liberator had also departed around the same time, it all came together.

    "So consider you and your friends under arrest for ticking me off."

    "And how did Mawarr find us?" Jesmin asked.

    Girdun's cruel grin broadened. "I also figured our your objective; that you were after Moff Drikl Lecersen. And I knew that he was on Orinda. It's all good old fashioned deductive reasoning, my dear."

    "But what was Mawarr doing with Xalren and Lecersen, pretending to be Mal Banvor?" Kadar asked.

    "Working as a double agent within Black Sun," Girdun replied. "I knew that the Prince of Falleen would be one of Lecersen's guests, and that 'Banvor' would be a contact of both of them. Mawarr just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

    Jesmin glared at him. "Let me guess. You're in on Lecersen's plot, aren't you?"

    Girdun snorted. "A wonderful mind you have there, Zilaash Kuh. Or should I saw, Jesmin Tainer?"

    Jesmin felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle but she did not move. She glanced at Kadar, but the ex-Mandalorian did not seem to be concerned with this revelation.

    "What are you going to do with us?" the white-armored bounty hunter asked Girdun.

    "Since you know too much now, I will have to have you detained for the time being." Girdun raised a datapad to his face and scratched his chin. "Maybe I could jump through some hoops to frame your for a crime and have the death sentence placed on your heads."

    Jesmin snapped up from her seat. "What? You can't do that!"

    "I can and I will, my dear."

    She glared at him. "That's something only the Empire would do. The Alliance would never allow something like that."

    Girdun grinned like a savage beast. "The Alliance won't be around for much longer, Tainer, nor will the Imperial Remnant. A new dawn is upon us."

    He turned to Mawarr and nodded. "Take them away."

*  *  *

    Once the Liberator had came out of lightspeed and into the Coruscant system, the Wraiths, Wallen, Taaku, and the captive Lecersen boarded a shuttle and took it to complete the trip to the capital.

    Upon entering Coruscant's atmosphere, they were instantly hailed by air security. "Unidentified Lambda-class shuttle, provide us with your name and ID code immediately."

    Leaning forward in the pilot seat, Trey Courser said, "Shuttle Cabirium, code THX-1233-1414, requesting permission to land."

    Silence for a moment. Then came the reply: "Permission denied, shuttle Carbirium. You are not in our records. Please depart Coruscant immediately."

    Trey turned to Face, eyebrows raised. "I thought Captain Sacul said it was."

    Frowning in suspicion, Face responded to the security person. "We are dispatching from Alliance cruiser Liberator, commanded by Captain Jorg Sacul. If you want, we can go back and get him on the line for you."

    Silence again. The officer then said, "That won't be necessary. You are clear to land."

    "Thank you," Face said exasperatedly. The words had barely left his mouth when an explosion sounded above them. Grimacing, Trey provided the other with a view from above on a viewscreen.

    In Coruscant's sky, the Liberator was in flames.

    As Face cursed under his breath, a new voice spoke through the Cabirium's speaker, one he recognized and now hated with every fiber of his being.

    "General Garik Loran," Heol Girdun said. "You are under arrest for committing treason against the Galactic Alliance. Please come peacefully and maybe you won't share the same fate as your fellow co-conspirator."

EPILOGUE

    Green eyes stared anxiously at the clouded sky, which the Corellian ship had disappeared through.

    "He will come back."

    The bald woman turned and headed back into the facility- their home. Alpha, Runner, and the others had already gone back inside while she had stayed out in the cold.

    "Don't worry, Mother," she whispered. "We shall get him back. He will remember."

    I have no doubt about that, Seer, was the reply.

    Stopping before the entrance to their home, the clone known as Seer turned back around, staring hopefully at the sky again.

    "We shall find you, Mother. We shall find you, and bring him back, and then we can be a family again. I swear it."

    I have faith in you, Seer, Mother said. I always have and always will.

    Seer smiled and headed back inside.

-Ten years ago-

    Orde Kaburn groggily awoke to find a face staring down at him. The visage he recognized, but something about it- something in the eyes- indicated that it had changed significantly.

    "Kadar?" Orde slowly sat up, seeing Tessa laying beside him, sleeping. "Where are we? What happened?"

    "You're on Mandalore," Kadar replied. Even his voice sounded different- quieter, gruffer. "I found you and Tessa in Banvor's lab and rescued you."

    "What about Corda?"

    Kadar did not speak.

    Orde's eyes widened. "Oh, Kadar... I am so sorry."

    "Don't be. There was nothing you could do." Kadar straightened up. "I'm leaving. The Mandalorians. For good."

    "What?" Orde said incredulously. "Why?"

    "I have lost everything I had to do with them; my son, my wife...."

    "What about your daughter? She's still with Goran and Medrit, waiting for you- her father."

    Kadar shook his head. "I am no longer the father she is hoping to see again. That man died on Metalorn with her mother. If she were to see me now, she might recognize the face... but never the heart."

    He laid a hand on Orde's shoulder. "Look after her, will you? You and Tessa. Give her the family she needs. Give her my love."

    Orde opened his mouth to protest but decided against it, grimly realizing that this was for the best. "All right. You have my word."

    "Vor entye," Kadar said in thanks before donning his helmet. Then, with a nod of farewell, the White Rider turned and walked away, towards the setting sun.

TO BE CONTINUED

Star Wars Endgame: Episode III, Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

    Jaden ducked as the clone of Kam Solusar swung his lightsaber at him. Activating his own, Jaden clashed blades with him. Over the clone's shoulder, he could see Khedryn moving in to shoot the clone in the back. However, the duplicate Kam seemed to sense this for he craned around to cast a gesture in Khedryn's direction, freezing the smuggler in place.

    Jaden then used this brief distraction to push the clone back with his blade. His opponent disengaged from the fight and kept his lightsaber in a battle-ready stance.

    "Come, brother," the clone said with a wicked grin. "Surely you must recognize me."

    Jaden glowered at him. "I recognize your as that of Master Kam Solusar, but I know you cannot be him."

    "Of course not. My name is Alpha. Surely you remember me."

    "Sorry, but no." Jaden released a burst of Force energy, which sent the silver-haired clone flying into the wall, momentarily stunning him. Then, grabbing the still-frozen Khedryn, Jaden and Toah moved to run out the chamber.

    Only for the door to slam shut in their faces.

    "You're not going anywhere," a silky voice echoed through the room. "You belong with us."

    The three men turned to see a group of figures approaching them, led by a bald woman. Despite her lack of hair, Jaden vaguely recognized her face as one of the ones from his visions.

    Raising his lightsaber, Jaden said, "Enlighten me, then. Tell me why I belong with you."

    The woman smiled. "You were the first of us to be created and the most perfect one. You were meant to be our leader, the one who would hold our community- the Community- together. But they whisked you away and we descended into madness."

    "That's a bunch of Sithspit," muttered Khedryn, the effects of Alpha's Force stun having worn off. "And I've only just met these guys."

    The group of clones ignored him and one of them stepped forward. Jaden nearly gasped; despite his ragged looks, he recognized the clone to be one of his master, Kyle Katarn.

    "We speak the truth, brother. Please, come to us. We shall make you remember."

    "And even if we can't," another woman said, this one with red hair and green eyes, "then surely Mother can."

    Mother. Jaden recalled the name from another one of his visions. Come back to Mother.

    To the clones, he said, "Regardless if I am a clone or not, I have no desire to join you. I am content with the life I already have."

    The bald woman frowned. "But don't you want to know the past you have forgotten? After all, you did come all this way...."

    "Maybe so, but I know for a fact that I am not a clone." Jaden's gaze flickered to the shelves of vials that were all around the room. "I am very sorry to disappoint you... and I'm sorry to do this."

    Moved by the Force, the shelves came flying towards the clones from all directions, colliding into them and piling onto each other. Jaden and Toah then spun around and plunged their lightsabers into the closed door, carving out an opening. The process went considerably fast, since the metal had slowly rusted and weakened over the years since its abandonment.

    "Get them!" Jaden heard the Kyle clone cry. 

    Once the opening had been made, the three men sprinted out of the room and towards the facility's exit, the clones not far behind. Out in the cold outdoors, Jaden found that the ice greatly impeded their escape; enough so that Alpha and the other clones were able to catch up to them.

    "You must remember!" Alpha cried, flailing his lightsaber. "Or all that the Master and Mother have done will be undone!"

    "They're starting to sound like me after I've had too much Jawa juice," Khedryn muttered. "Can I shoot at them?"

    "That will only provoke them further," Toah replied. "Then again, reasoning doesn't seem to be doing any good...."

    "You will be free to leave," the bald woman said calmly, "as long as Jaden Korr turns himself in."

    Before Jaden could refute the clones' demands again, the roar of engines tore through the air as a Corellian freighter emerged from the storm of hail, firing its sole laser cannon. This was enough to scare away the clones while the Junker swooped in with its boarding ramp lowered. Jaden, Khedryn, and Toah jumped on and quickly closed the ramp before the ship blasted off towards the sky.

    Khedryn laughed as he and the other two headed for the cockpit, where Marr was waiting in the pilot seat. "Great timing there, Marr! How did you know we were in a rut?"

    The Cerean smiled as he shrugged. "I didn't, I just... kinda had the feeling you'd be in some sort of trouble. You usually are."

    Khedryn chuckled as he sat in the seat next to Marr. "Doesn't matter to me. As long as those clones are far behind us."

    Toah glanced at Jaden and smirked. "Guess you were right about him," he murmured.

    Jaden did not reply and slumped in the chair behind Marr's. Despite having repeatedly denied the clones' claims, he could not help but wonder why they had insisted that he was one of them. What if there was truth to their statements?

    Toah laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about what they told you, or tried to," he said. "Whether you're a clone or not- and I'm thinking not- you'll still be Jaden Korr and my friend to me."

    Jaden smiled. "Thanks, Toah."

    Khedryn coughed. "Uh, I hate to interrupt the Jedi-bonding-moment, but shall we head back to Fhost? I mean, you didn't say anything about taking you to other places...."

    "Fhost is fine," Jaden said. "Though we may need fuel for our own starfighters."

    "Eh, tell you what," Khedryn said. "For helping me beat Reegas, I can-"

    He was cut off mid-sentence when a ship came out of hyperspace before them. A heavily modified gunship bristling with weaponry, it approached the Junker menacingly.

    "I guess Reegas is a bit bitter about that game," Marr murmured.

    "You 'guess?'" Khedryn snapped. "Hit the hyperdrive."

    Before his first mate could do so, a second ship came out of hyperspace, far larger than the other two. Heavily armed and in jagged shapes, both Jaden and Toah recognized what it was, having seen it in historic records, and yet still could not believe their eyes.

    It was a Sith dreadnaught.

Star Wars Endgame: Episode III, Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

    "Moff Lecersen?" The Imperial officer, flanked by a stormtrooper squad, knocked on the door to his superior's room. "There's been a commotion going on in the ball room. Are you all right?"

    The door opened to reveal a tall, gray-haired man, adorned in the tightly-cut uniform most highly-ranked Imperials were accustomed to.

    "What sort of commotion?" Drikl Lecersen asked.

    "A gas grenade- or multiple ones- went off in the air vents and clouded the room," the officer said. "We've escorted them to safety outside and went up here to check on you."

    "Well, we are all fine here," Lecersen said, gesturing to himself and his guests: Prince Xalren, Senator Bramsin, and an Imperial general.

    The officer nodded curtly. "Very well. In that case, we shall go to investigate the incident."

    "Just one moment," the Moff said, stopping the younger man. "Beg my pardon, but I don't recall ever seeing your face around here. What is your name?"

    The officer smiled thinly. "Lieutenant Kal Berri."

    Lecersen's brow furrowed. "I know the name of all my security personnel here, and I do not know that one."

    "As well you shouldn't," the lieutenant said, stepping into the room unbidden with the rest of his squad. One of the stormtroopers closed the door behind them and locked it.

    "What is the meaning of this?" Lecersen demanded.

    "To tell you the truth, 'Kal Berri' isn't my real name," the lieutenant said, ignoring the Moff. "Tell me, have you seen any holo-dramas? Such as The Black Bantha? Or Win or Die?"

    "Yes, but why should it matter?"

    A look of mock indignation appeared on the officer's face. "Why should it matter? Why, I was the star of those productions. My name is Garik Loran."

    As Lecersen's eyes widened, the lieutenant and his stormtrooper raised their blasters at him. 

    "And in the name of the Galactic Alliance, I'm going to put you under arrest."

-Ten years ago-

    Kadar awoke groggily, the room spinning around him. After blinking several times, he cleared his vision and looked around. The first think he noticed was that he was strapped to a table in some sort of lab. Laying on a separate table next to his, still unconscious, was Corda. There was no sign of Orde and Tessa.

    "I see that you are awake."

    Startled, Kadar looked up to see Banvor staring down at him. Scowling, the Mandalorian spat at him. Banvor did not flinch.

    "I am sorry to disappoint you, but your saliva will not make a useful DNA source," the Skakoan said coolly. He moved away from the Mandalorian and towards a set of large viewscreens. "The point is moot anyway; I have already done to you what I pleased."

    "And what would that be?" Kadar asked spitefully.

    "I have replaced seventy-five percent of your body with prosthetic and mechanical replacements, effectively turning you into a cyborg."

    Kadar snorted, unfazed by this revelation. "And what purpose does that serve? Do you want your own Darth Vader?"

    "You are a step above Vader," Banvor said, not turning to face him. "Unlike Vader, there is less than zero chance of you turning against me... or your new master."

    Appearing on the center viewscreen was a green-skinned Falleen, dressed in elaborate black and violet robes. "Is the experiment a success, Banvor?"

    "Yes, Prince Xalren," the Skakoan said. "We have successfully converted Kadar to Black Sun's cause."

    "That's a load of fierfek," Kadar snapped. "Number one: Black Sun is yesterday's news. Number two: there is no way you have converted me already."

    "Wrong, on both accounts." Banvor strode over to Corda. He did not touch her, but Kadar was nonetheless infuriated and wrestled against his restraints.

    "It would be quite the shame if your loving wife were to wake up and instantly be informed of your... unabridged past," the scientist muttered. "How do you think she'll feel when she finds out that her wonderful husband... is the sole heir of the clan whose her's despises."

    Kadar bristled. "What do you mean?"

    The Falleen on the screen laughed. "Don't play coy. You are fully aware of your heritage... Ziar Vizsla."

    The name triggered a series of memories Kadar had no desire to remember. Feeling his anger well up, he acted without thinking. Breaking free from his restraints, he lunged at Banvor and collided into the scientist. He then began to pummel the Skakoan, pounding his fists into his face and tearing apart his pressure suit. After a while, Banvor suddenly stopped moving.

    Snapping away from his mindless frenzy, Kadar turned to the viewscreen and pointed an accusatory finger at Prince Xalren. 

    "This is all on you!" the Mandalorian bellowed. "When I find you- and I will- you will regret having ever done this to me!"

    The Falleen simply smiled. "I'm counting on that." His emerald visage then visage vanished.

    Forgetting his anger, Kadar rushed over to Corda and freed her from her restraints. "Wake up, cyar'ika," he said softly. "You're safe now. Please, wake up."

    She did not move.

    Kadar felt tears threatening to burst from his eyes. "Corda?" He stroked her red hair. "Wake up."

    He froze when he touched her skin. It was cold. Instinctively, he checked for a pulse. There was none.

    Very few people could claim that they had ever seen a Mandalorian cry. And one of those very few had just died....

-Present-

    Kadar fell silent after finishing his tale. Jesmin mulled over it, for it had now given her a better grasp on what Kadar had been through and who he was. Even so, she did not know what to say.

    She was soon deprived of the chance when Mal Banvor reemerged from his quarters. She feigned unconsciousness again as the large Skakoan strode right past her and returned to his pilot seat. She then peered through her eyelids to watch him bring the ship out of hyperspace.

    The planet that greeted them was definitely not Metalorn. Jesmin's eyes widened at what planet it was instead. Why is he bringing us here? she wondered.

    They had arrived at Coruscant.

Star Wars Endgame: Episode III, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

    Jaden grimaced at the sight that greeted him when he lowered the Junker's boarding ramp. Before him were frozen oceans that stretched across the landscape. Raining down on them were large pieces of hail, which made the ground very rough and difficult to navigate even with an environmental suit and a glowrod equipped like he had.

    Standing with him, also dressed in environmental suits, were Toah and Khedryn. Marr had elected to stay behind on the ship, and Jaden could sense that Khedryn was tempted to do so as well, perhaps out of a subconscious desire to maroon the Jedi. Whether out of good nature or fear of the repercussions he might have faced, he had changed his mind. 

    "The signal's coming from about ten miles away from here," the Junker's captain said, reading his portable scanner. "The hailstorm seems to grow stronger the further you go."

    "Any life signs?" Toah asked.

    Khedryn shook his head. "The storm's blocking out everything except the signal."

    "Then let's find out for ourselves," Jaden said, moving ahead of the other two.

*  *  *

    "He is coming home."

    A head full of white hair nodded. Black eyes twinkled with anticipation.

    "He will finally realize what he was meant to do," a dark voice said in response. "He will free us and lead us to our destinies."

    "What if he refuses to?" a third voice asked. "What will we do then?"

    "Then we will make him see," the first voice said, sounding wistful. "He has to see. He may have forgotten his original purpose, but we will make him remember."

    "Indeed we shall," the second voice said. "I will make sure of it."

*  *  *

    Ice crunching beneath his feet, Jaden peered through the veil of hail falling before him, using the Force to enhance his vision, though it didn't help by much. Up ahead was what appeared to be a facility of some sort. As they came closer to it, he saw that it was marked with the emblem of the Galactic Empire.

    After Jaden informed Toah and Khedryn of this, the latter said wryly, "Oh joy. Guess there'll be a stormtrooper welcoming party waiting for us."

    But there was no such thing waiting for them when they reached the facility. In fact, the place was all but abandoned; windows were boarded in, the exterior was riddled with dents and cracks, and the entrance door was partially closed at a weird angle, disengaged from its connectors.

    "Bad feeling meter increased twenty percent," Khedryn murmured.

    Jaden walked up to the damaged door and peered through its small opening. Seeing nothing but darkness, he held his glowrod through it. He found no sign of stormtroopers or any Imperial officers at all. Shoving the door away to create a wider entrance, Jaden stepped in to the facility, with Toah and Khedryn close behind. The sight that greeted them was a quite peculiar one indeed:

    Everything was set up as if people had been using them just mere moments before. Stormtrooper armor and equipment rested idly on racks; sabacc cards were spread out across a table, as if the players had left them with the intention of returning to their game; and holographic pieces of a dejarik game fizzled in and out on a holotable.

    "Fifty percent," Khedryn said. "Let's get out of here."

    "Not yet," Jaden said. "Can you see where exactly the signal is coming from?"

    Taking the scanner from the shaking Khedryn's hands, Toah said, "Down the main corridor, fourth door to the left."

    The three men went down the corridor and entered a large chamber, which appeared to be some sort of lab. Rows of vials- some of them filled with colored liquids- dominated large shelf-cases while a short series of steps led into a pit with computer stations and monitors.

    "See if there's any archival security footage," Jaden said to Toah. "I'll check if there's any recordings."

    "What about me?" Khedryn asked.

    "You good with a blaster?"

    "Sure."

    "Stand by the door and shoot off anyone who doesn't want us here."

    With that, Jaden moved down into the pit and began searching through one of the computer's archives. To his disappointment, most everything was encrypted and required a security code. If only he had brought R6 with him....

    Suddenly, a voice spoke in his mind. It sounded too quiet and fast for him to put a face to it, but he knew he recognized it. All it said was a single word: Iteration.

    Acting almost subconsciously, Jaden entered in the word and in an instant, the holographic form of a human woman, dark haired and middle aged, appeared. The name tag on her lab coat identified her as "Dr. Gray."

    "The project is underway," the Imperial scientist said to the holo-cam recorder. "As per Grand Admiral Thrawn's orders, we have begun the creation of what we call 'Jedi-Sith clones,' using the DNA of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Palpatine, as well as those of powerful Force-sensitives."

    Still searching for footage, Toah said, "Think the clone Palpatine we dealt with all those years ago had anything to do with that?"

    Jaden shrugged while Dr. Gray continued speaking. "I have great hopes for this experiment. They say it's near impossible to clone a Force-sensitive. True, it's been attempted many times in the past, but rarely with successful results. But we here in the Empire always strive for progress."

    With that, the scientist's figure disappeared. Jaden then searched through the archives again before bringing up another hologram, this time of a man in a disheveled lab coat, panic stricken on his face. His tag read "Dr. Blue."

    "I don't know how much time I have left- they're almost through the door- so I'll be quick. If anyone comes across this, tell Grand Admiral Thrawn that the project has failed. The clones have gone mad and- oh, stars, they've gotten through!"

    Something lunged at Dr. Blue and the hologram fizzled out. Silence reigned for a short time until Khedryn broke it.

    "One hundred percent."

    "Toah, don't bother with that footage," Jaden said quietly. "We need to get out of here, asap."

    "You are not going anywhere."

    Jaden froze. It was the same voice he had heard in his head. He could now tell who it belonged to... and did not believe it.

    The sound of clanging echoed in the ceiling. Suddenly, a figure dropped down from it and landed right before Jaden, igniting a silver lightsaber blade. The figure lifted its head and locked Jaden with its dark gaze.

    It was Jedi Master Kam Solusar.

    Black eyes twinkling with anticipation, the clone grinned savagely and lunged.

Star Wars Endgame: Episode III, Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

    Jesmin Tainer- forgetting her person as Zilaash Kuh for the time being- awoke to find herself laying against a wall. Her hands and feet were bound by stun cuffs.

    Looking up, she saw that she was on a ship, which rumbled as if it was flying through space. Across from her laid Kadar; she couldn't tell if he was conscious or not, since his Mandalorian helmet concealed his face.

    Hearing voices, she craned her head to see a massive being sitting in a pilot's seat; he had to be at least seven or eight feet tall. Though his back was turned to her, Jesmin could tell by his squarish, green head that the being was a Skakoan, wearing an extensively-modified pressure suit.

    "...Taking them to Metalorn," the Skakoan was saying to an unseen individual. "I shall see to it that Kadar is properly modified to your intentions."

    "Excellent," the voice of Prince Xalren replied. "I look forward to hearing of your progress, Mal Banvor."

    There was a click, indicating the disabling of a comlink. Outside the cockpit's viewport, Jesmin could see the stars stretch as the ship went into lightspeed. Her shoulders sagged, knowing that Orinda- and her fellow Wraiths- were far behind.

    Suddenly, Banvor rose from his seat. Jesmin feigned unconsciousness as the large Skakoan approached her. She heard his massive footsteps move right past her before growing quieter as they carried down a corridor.

    "He's gone to his quarters," a rasped voice whispered.

    Jesmin opened her eyes to look at Kadar, who moved slightly to indicate that he was awake.

    "I didn't know Skakoans could get that big," she murmured.

    "They don't," Kadar said bitterly. "He's probably modified his pressure suit beyond those of the average Skakoan's to make himself larger."

    "Why?"

    "He's a scientist. It's because he can."

    "You sound like you know him," Jesmin muttered.

    The rogue Mandalorian was silent for a moment before speaking, grief afflicting his voice. "For the past ten years since it happened, I have never been able to tell anyone how my life went to shambles, because I never saw the need to."

    "And you're going to tell me it here and now because...?"

    "Because I had my chance to kill Xalren and avenge my old life and it was taken away from me." Kadar sighed softly. "This is my last chance to get it off my chest."

    "I'm all ears then...."

-Ten years ago-

    The Metalorn sun was setting behind the tall buildings that dominated the horizon. Nonetheless, the factories of Termin were still working at nonstop, ignorant of whatever time of day it was.

    A blue and gold Mandalorian helmet peered over a large rock, spotting a pair of super battle droids guarding the entrance to the primary factory. He said as much to his companion.

    "Why the kark is he using cheap old models like those?" Kadar muttered.

    "No idea," Orde Kaburn said before extending a hand. "Grenade launcher."

    Kadar reached behind his back and brought out a grenade launcher, handing it to his partner. The other Mandalorian affixed it on his shoulder and took aim before firing. Flames erupted from where the super battle droids stood and they soon became scrap. 

    Rising from his hiding spot, Kadar spoke into his comlink, "Corda, Tessa, the coast is clear. Let's move."

    "Wait." Orde's hand fell on his arm, stopping him. "What if there are more inside? Will we be able to stop them?"

    Kadar looked sharply at him. "We're Mandalorians, Orde. Do you doubt our ability against these bucket of bolts?"

    "Of course not. But this is Mal Banvor we're dealing with here. Who knows what he's done different to them."

    "Nothing that can stop us." Kadar patted his chest armor. "We are kandosii."

*  *  *

    They had gone through several hordes of battle droids, but Kadar and his group had eventually reached the factory's command center. Signalling the others to stop, Kadar pressed himself against the wall near the open doorway and looked around it.

    The Skakoan scientist was the sole organic in the room; droid technicians moved about the chamber, carrying out orders. Mal Banvor himself was surrounded by seven large screens, each one allowing him to view the progress of the factory's machines. Luckily, none of them showed the rooms the Mandalorians were or had been in.

    Turning to his wife, Corda, he said, "Do you have the codes?"

    Her red helmet dipped as she nodded.

    "Then let's move."

    As one, the four Mandalorians stormed into the room, aiming their blasters at Mal Banvor. Several droids raised their weapons in alarm but did not fire, for Corda had deactivated them from a remote control which held the codes.

    "Don't move, Banvor," Kadar said coldly.

    "Kadar," the Skakoan said, pivoting around to face him. "I was beginning to wonder how long it would take you to come here."

    "Enough talk," Kadar snapped. "Where is he? Where is my son?"

    "Nowhere," Banvor said bluntly. "He's dead."

    For Kadar, the whole world seemed to end around him. His breath left him as if he had been punched in the gut. His weapon arm began to tremble; even Corda's touch as her hand fell on it could not calm it.

    "Wh-what?" Kadar's voice came out as a croak. "He's...."

    'Dead, yes," Banvor said. "I tried to experiment on him, but he did not turn out as planned. So he was disposed of."

    As much as he wanted to, Kadar could not find the strength to pull the trigger. "You... monster. You heartless, cruel...."

    There were not enough curse words in the galaxy for Kadar to properly express himself.

    "Are you going to shoot me, Kadar?" the Skakoan asked. "If so, I haven't got all day."

    "Kadar, we're supposed to only capture him," Corda whispered. "Don't let him get to you."

    "Yes, listen to your caring wife," Banvor said. "It will buy me enough time to do this."

    Suddenly, something hard hit Kadar in the back. Weariness began to fight with him just as Corda, Orde, and Tessa dropped down unconscious beside him. The last words he heard were from Banvor.

    "Do not worry," the mad scientist said coldly. "You'll be seeing your son soon enough."