CHAPTER SEVEN
--The Resurgent--
Lieutenant Mirska rocked nervously on the balls of his feet as Darth Taral's shuttle docked in the hangar bay. He could not figure out why Captain Redarn had sent him to greet the Sith rather than do so himself; it wasn't as if he had pressing matters to attend on the bridge. Nonetheless, he maintained a professional stance as the shuttle's ramp lowered and Taral stormed down.
Before Mirska could even get a word out, Taral stated, "Well? Is the ship destroyed?"
Mirska blinked. "I... what ship, my lord?"
"The V-wing," Taral snarled, looming threateningly over the lieutenant. "Has it been destroyed?"
The officer swallowed before replying. "Well, the TIE fighters damaged it quite heavily--"
"Damaged?" Taral repeated. "I said I wanted it destroyed. Obliterated. Blown to particles!"
Mirska could feel his forehead was wet with perspiration. "Well, Captain Redarn ordered us to bring it in via tractor--"
Before the lieutenant could finish, he found himself hovering over the deck, clawing at his neck as he struggled to breathe.
"Where is it?" Taral growled.
"Bay... Eleven...." Mirska croaked.
Taral then gestured with his hand and the officer was thrown into a bulkhead. His head suffered significant trauma and he slipped into unconsciousness.
* * *
Darth Taral felt himself seethe with rage as he made his way to the hanger bay, vowing that he would make an example of Redarn once he had finished off Sedriss -- if she was indeed still alive. Entering the bay, he found the burnt husk of a V-wing, surrounded by a squad of stormtroopers. The leader of the squad, who stood taller than the average trooper and wore chrome armor and a black cape with red trimming, turned to Taral and nodded in acknowledgment as he approached.
"Is she still alive?" Taral asked, seeing the motionless Sedriss through the canopy.
"Initial scans indicate she is dead," Captain Phasma replied. "However, I would suggest we take her to the medical lab to be sure. Unless, of course, you'd rather make sure yourself."
Taral stepped up to the V-wing and tore the canopy open. Looking down at Sedriss, he knew exactly what she was playing at; she had fallen into a hibernation trance, making herself appear dead to anyone but other Force-sensitives. While it was a useful ability, especially for what Sedriss was clearly planning, it had a flaw that Taral knew how to exploit.
Stepping away from the V-wing, Taral turned back to Phasma. "Take her to the lab and have her placed in a stasis tube."
Phasma nodded, wisely not questioning the Sith Lord's request. While she ordered the rest of her squad to work, Taral kept his gaze on Sedriss, smirking beneath his mask.
You want to play a game then, Dark Lady? Very well: let's play.
--Mandalore--
The man who called himself Benor Sardan tore through the forests that covered Mandalore upon his Balutar-class swoop bike. Vhe'viin rodents scurried to get out of his path while shriek-hawks monitored him from above. Already he had come out of the downpour that had rained upon Enceri and entered the starry night that graced Keldabe.
He knew it would have only been a matter of time. Ever since Darth Taral had announced himself across intergalactic media, he had feared that he would send someone to either recruit him or kill him. Either way, he refused to endanger Goran and the others, or have them risk their lives for his sake. They knew nothing about him and would not understand what they were getting themselves into if they had insisted on accompanying him.
This was his problem and his alone. And if it were to be his demise as well, then so be it.
He finally entered the city of Keldabe. As he made his way to his apartment, he started to feel a strong presence in the Force. Anger and hate entered his mind; these were emotions he was familiar with, having once used them himself in a previous life. But here they felt... different. Unrestrained, almost. Like that of a uncontrolled beast.
Slowing his swoop to a stop, he dismounted from the vehicle and moved to enter his home. Just as his hand fell over the access panel, he sensed someone standing behind him. As he turned around, he unholstered a blaster pistol and aimed it at the masked man standing behind him.
"What do you want?" Benor Sardan asked.
The stranger tilted his head slightly. The torn ends of his black cloak flapped in the wind. "Put away your weapon," he said through his voice-altering mask. "I mean you no harm."
"Answer me," Benor snarled.
"I would think the answer would be obvious. I've come for you, 'Benor Sardan.' That is what you call yourself now, isn't it?"
"You listen to me very carefully," Benor said harshly. "I am not going back to the Sith or the Dark Jedi. I swore myself from that life years ago. If your master, your new Dark Lord, wants me, he's going to have to accept my cold dead corpse."
"You misunderstand. I am no Sith. I am affiliated with Darth Taral, yes, but I am not one of his minions. I am of the Knights of Ren."
"Even so, I'm sure Taral sent you."
"Yes, but his goals further mine." The masked man took a step forward. Benor tightened his grip on the trigger. "I know who you once were. I know you once knew Darth Vader."
There was a hitch in Benor's breathing but he kept his composure. "What does it matter to you?"
There was a certain emphasis on the stranger's answer. "Everything."
Benor stared at him, searching him with his hidden brown eyes. "Who are you?" he whispered.
"My name is Kylo Ren. And I know who you are; you who have gone by many names. Sen-Axe Valan...."
Benor started to squeeze the trigger, only to realize he couldn't move. It was as if his entire body had went rigid.
"...Darth Stalker..."
Benor struggled to fight back, to free himself from Kylo Ren's hold. It had been years since he had last called upon the Force, however....
"...Starkiller...."
The name triggered a series of images in his mind. Events of his past started to reemerge: his creation, coming out of the cloning tube, kneeling before Darth Vader, being put through the trials of a Sith apprentice, killing Juno Eclipse, gazing upon the dead form of....
"...Galen Marek...."
Benor's mind was assaulted by an onslaught of faces he remembered, people he once knew -- people Galen Marek knew. Darth Vader. Rahm Kota. PROXY. Juno Eclipse.
Juno.
A sudden, uncontrollable rage boiled within him. Giving into it, he broke free from Kylo's hold and charged towards him. Dropping the blaster, he reached behind his back and pulled out a weapon he had not used in ages.
A lightsaber.
Igniting its crimson blade with a snap-hiss, the man known as Starkiller swung it at Kylo, who blocked it with his own blade. It took Starkiller a moment to realize that Ren's lightsaber was unlike most. Besides its crackling, unstable red blade, it also bore a pair of energy quillons on the sides of the hilt, forming the appearance of a crossguard. To Starkiller's knowledge, such a design had not been used since the Sith Wars.
The former Sith broke off from the saber lock and swung again at Kylo, aiming for his head. The Knight of Ren raised his blade to deflect it, then again to block an attack to the shoulder. The two continued to parry, each countering the other's moves. The sound of lightsabers clashing started to echo throughout Keldabe, waking a good part of the city and attracting the attention of several Mandalorian civilians.
Dozens watched as the warriors dueled, awed by the sight of a Mandalorian wielding a lightsaber. To many it was considered heresy, given the harsh relationship the Mandalorians had had with the Jedi throughout history. However, no one dared intervene in the fight simply for their beliefs.
It quickly became evident to Starkiller that he and Kylo were an even match. The crossguard of the latter's lightsaber provided sufficient protection from Starkiller's attacks, and the former Sith's unpredictable fighting style effectively countered Ren's aggressive assault.
Just as Starkiller readied his blade for another attack, Kylo suddenly reached out a hand and used the Force to stop his blade as it came close to his masked face. Gritting his teeth, Starkiller struggled to push against the invisible hold on him, but to no avail. Kylo then gestured with his hand and Starkiller went staggering back, disoriented. Before he could recompose himself, Ren lunged and swung his saber at the ex-Sith's weapon arm. The fiery blade cut through just above his iron gauntlet and Starkiller screamed as his forearm and lightsaber dropped to the ground.
As the former apprentice of Vader collapsed to his knees, Kylo Ren strode forward and took a hold of his helmet, roughly pulling it off. Baleful eyes greeted him, glowing yellow with the dark side. Sheathing his blade, Kylo knelt down and stared at Starkiller through his opaque visor.
"Now then... where were we?"
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