Subject: [OTL]: (alt. Betsy/Star Wars) Fanged Butterfly 2: Knightcross 45/? (R) From: Phil Hartman Date: Wed, 7 May 2008 06:21:00 +0000 will1@earthling.net Fanged Butterfly Vol. 2: Knightcross Chapter 45 by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: Marvel’s are Marvel’s. LFL’s are LFL’s. Any original characters are mine. The rest belong to their owners/creators. No money is being made off of this. Please don’t sue. WARNING: Themes, imagery, some violence. --------------------------------------------------- 40 ABY: Lower levels of Nar Shaddaa, Nal Hutta System, Hutt Space, Outer Rim Territories, Galactic South: Day of the Battle of Corellia: --------------------------------------------------- The ring of bounty hunters and thugs surrounding Betsy, Vergere and Remy parted, allowing Tarfang to march forward proudly ... with two Twi’lek females beside him. The Ewok was followed by a miniskiff bearing a corpulent Hutt wearing rings and ... lipstick ... fanned by a Rodian female while Nikto guards operated the skiff. “The Hutts are REAL? An’ there’s an Ewok with a GUN!?” Remy exclaimed, wincing when Tarfang jabbered something and poked at Remy’s leg with that Merr Sonn blaster. “I find it a little hard to believe the Thieves’ Guild lacks an office on Nar Shaddaa,” Betsy accused. Remy tried, and almost managed, to look innocent. “Some of our more exotic Guild families used t’ bring in unique goods. Pere always suggested they were workin’ deals with AIM or HYDRA. An’ I’m more a Trek fan anyhow,” he said, frowning as they were disarmed. Betsy rolled her eyes. “You and the Professor. ’Make it so’ got old fast,” she grumbled, struggling as two Gamorreans dragged her before ... “Remy LeBeau, meet Gardulla the Hutt,” Betsy said, and Remy shuddered when Gardulla chuckled, leering at him. {Not so ill met this time, Braddock. You denied me the dance of Booster Terrik - I knew arranging for Rhysode’s capture on Vjun would force you to surrender to Tarfang, so that I could have my revenge! And now I have a new plaything, with such lovely eyes, too! HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO !!!} Gardulla boomed. “Not happening, Gardulla. Release us, and you may yet survive,” Betsy demanded, even as the thugs dragged her and Remy into Gardulla’s dimly lit audience hall. {I don’t think so, Braddock. I have no desire to give up my new trophy, and humiliating you will be a pleasurable time. Plus, I get to see the prettyboy dance,} Gardulla chuckled, nodding at a carbonite slab on the wall ... Betsy gasped; it was Ganner ... thankfully clothed, but trapped ... “Yub-bwahahahah!!!” Tarfang laughed - and Betsy had HAD it - but the Force was denied her, and she saw the ysalamiri on the walls. And a widebore telepathic shockwave might harm Remy. “I got a bad feelin’ ’bout this ... time to go,” Remy muttered, grabbing and charging the axe of one of the Gamorreans holding him. The piglike thug squealed, terrified, allowing Remy to grab the charged weapon - just before a horde of stun bolts cut him down. The charged axe fell into Betsy’s hands, but she knew she was holding the equivalent of a thermal detonator; so ... Betsy hurled the weapon toward the closing rear door, ducking the shrapnel, and grabbed Remy. Fortunately, she kept in good shape, so hauling him wasn’t that difficult. Unfortunately, Tarfang was able to cut her off, and a dozen blasters were pointed at her before she got to Ganner’s slab. {Cute, Braddock. But after your treachery on Ryloth, I hired anti Force user security experts. Prepare for a gold bikini! HOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!} Gardulla mocked, and Betsy was dragged away, while Remy was hauled another direction. #Bloody hell. Let’s hope Vergere caught my lead ...# Betsy thought. ------------------------------------------------------------- Vergere WAS watching, but arched a feathered brow from where the shadows hid her. #Those ysalamiri pose a difficult problem. And ... that Remy MIGHT look good ...# Vergere thought, sneaking outside. She found an alcove to meditate in ... to await guidance from the Force ... and to ponder red on black eyes, set over a body clad in a gold bikini. ------------------------------------------------------------ Star System MZX32905, near Bimmiel: ------------------------------------------------------------ Lumiya TRIED to drive the submission programming into Anakin Solo’s brain, to break him as he hung naked in a web of wires ... to both exact revenge for Jacen sending the Ganner Rhysode to destroy Korriban, and to have another Darth Vader in her life. But the Force was shifting, refusing to obey the Dark Lady ... She SCREAMED, as lightside energy poured back at her through the nanobot-forged Force bond, pushing her to her knees. Anakin commanded the wires to extract themselves from his skin, leaving fine scars, as the Force burned the nanos from him. He ignored the blood dripping down his muscular frame; he was no longer the half-grown boy hero of the Vong War, but a man, with a fully fleshed out frame. Shira Brie whimpered in memory of what skin had been like, beneath her, once. Lumiya refused to give Solo the satisfaction of hearing her moan again, watching when he easily summoned his lightsaber. She still couldn’t move. “You can still surrender. This doesn’t have to end with death,” Anakin offered, drawing a surge of outrage from the cyborg. “Impudent ... naked ... delicious ... FOOL,” Lumiya managed to snarl - She drove all her remaining darkside strength into making her right hand extract the holdout blaster from her right thigh, and levelled it at the Solo ... boy? ... man ... but her trembling fingers dropped the weapon. It was trying to aim while staring straight at a supernova; and Lumiya collapsed, unconscious, from the overload of her senses. All she could think, before she blacked out, was how accursedly fortunate the Veila girl was ... and that Tahiri wouldn’t be the only female in the galaxy who could claim accurate descriptions of Anakin Solo’s body. For his part, Anakin blushed, and looked for a robe. He was Jedi enough to be embarrassed about having *that* effect on the weak-minded ... even if it was flattering ... --------------------------------------------------- Jedi Temple: Coruscant: --------------------------------------------------- They were just about ready to start with the turbolasers, when the cloud of dust cleared. Heol Girdun waved the front wave of GAG shocktroopers - he hated the term, but things had been getting ... Imperial ... for weeks now - back, as the night was lit up by multiple bars of color amidst the entrance to the Temple. Purple. Blue-black. Yellow. #Shavit ...# Girdun thought; Shevu or Wirut would’ve been better suited to leading this kind of work. He was an Intel spook. Loud, bright things bothered him. Lightsabers fit that definition. “Soldiers of the Galactic Alliance Guard. You’re engaged in an unlawful occupation and assault of the Jedi Temple. We do not consider ourselves above the law, but neither will we knuckle under to unjust actions by a rogue authority,”a voice - a voice NOBODY in the GA could fail to know - rang. A hooded figure holding a silver lightsaber aloft led a march of 20 adult sentients, all with various-colored lightsabers, out of the clouds, protecting a crowd of scared Padawans. And Corran Horn tossed his hood back, meeting Girdun’s gaze with ... determination. Pity. Defiance. It was so ESSENTIALLY Corellian that Girdun’s hackles rose. “Those who leave now keep their lives and possibly their limbs. Those who attack us ... face our defense,” Horn said. “Colonel Solo - the LEGAL authority - ordered us to secure this facility, Master Horn. YOU stand down, and you won’t be mistreated in custody,” Girdun managed to snap. Horn’s eyes narrowed as he replied, “WHAT facility!?” Girdun admitted, the creepy tentacles and giant beak nibbling transparisteel in the giant hole in the background kind of undermined the order ... and then a VERY familiar disk-rear-ended freighter blasted through the clouds, and Girdun waved his troops back. Even the Intel spook knew when not to mess with legends. ----------------------------------------------------------- “Keep her steady! COME ON! Meewalh, Cakhmaim, keep the quadlasers on those troops - Corran, is that all of them?” Leia called, helping the last young Knights and the few Padawans assigned to the Temple board the Falcon. “Yeah! Thanks - how’d you know we were in trouble?” Corran asked, strapping in as the main boarding ramp closed, and Han and Chewie blasted the freighter out of Galactic City. “Luke disappearing in the Force, and Nom Anor resurfacing, claiming to have punished Hapes? We weren’t about to stay away,” Leia said, sitting on one of the few open chairs and reaching out in the Force as the Council gasped at Anor’s name... Luke had reappeared, but was terribly afraid and far away, then ... distracted; Mara felt ... oh. OH. Leia blushed, focusing as Tresina Lobi asked, “Master ... no, Luke ... my mind feels ... more free, somehow ...” “I have a working theory on that. Grand Master, indeed ...” Leia muttered, trying to ignore amused sissing coming from her former Master, Seba Sabatyne. “Thisz one agrees, Knight Solo ... Leia. The Council used to deliberate, but in recent years, didn’t we rely too much on formality? Were, ARE, we not friends?” Saba noted. “Luke wouldn’t deliberately mindkri - er, mind influence us,” Kyp tried to argue, catching himself before the Padawans heard him, but Tahiri and Lowbacca looked ... unconvinced. Even grumpy. So did many of the Council members. “I don’t think Luke did it maliciously, even consciously. But he IS Luke Skywalker, and mind influence and moral certainty ... whether it’s accurate, or not, are two of his strengths,” Leia pointed out, before reaching out to check on ... Jaina was getting ready to act, and was grateful to feel her mother; Anakin was ... ignoring pain, but would be all right, and had captured ... “LUMIYA!? Anakin captured her!” Leia gasped, prompting smiles or cheers from the other Jedi. But Nom Anor’s words haunted Leia ... “...then ... she ... interfered, and your accursed son with her” ... And her heart broke, as she realized why only a dark swirl surrounded Jacen. ----------------------------------------------------------- Felucia: ----------------------------------------------------------- “How could I have ... GRMMM ... been so WRONG?! So arrogant!?” “Who says restarting an order of ... heh heh heh ... Force users came with an instruction manual? OOOHHH ... ” “Once we get that ... errr... Phoenix satiated, we need to find Ben, then ... OOGH ... the others, and I need to apologize. To work WITH the rest of the ... AHHH ... Council ... and control the battlemeld ...” “They’ll understand. Grand Master ... nibble ... should’ve been a clear ... CHOMP! ... warning sign ... you don’t do ego ...” “AHHH!!! And this ... AURGGhh ... is my ... Errr ... penance?” “You must unlearn what you have learned, yes?” “OK, THAT was just disturbing.” “Fine. Farmboy, shut up, stop thinking good thoughts so loud they mindkriff the rest of the Order, and kiss me.” “Yes, deAaAaAaaa ... r ...” “Much better ... grmmph ...” ~MUST KRIFF LUKE SKYWALKER!~ “Working on it...” ------------------------------------------------------------ Ossus: Jedi Praxeum: ------------------------------------------------------------ The Force was almost unfair to cretins like Serpa, Jaina thought. If he’d been smart, he would’ve brought ysalamiri. It was just another sign that Jacen was slipping in who he entrusted his dirty business to. A few Force-flickers between her, Kam and Tionne - experienced-enough Jedi could read empathic messages as clearly as Betsy’s telepathy - had set up the timing. A few more Force-probes of the GAG guards had revealed that almost none of them wanted to shoot children. They were revolted by Serpa, and deserved to be restrained without harm. Which left the snipers seeded into each squad ... the ones left over from Force knew what cold-blooded shadow-ops units people like Dif Scaur and the Imperial era fostered. Jaina shrugged at her probably unfair assessment of Scaur; he’d wanted to win the Vong War. But salting the ground wasn’t the way. And that was hardly a “soft-hearted” Jedi assessment of Alpha Red. Anyone who accused Jaina of being soft-hearted had NO idea of the whole “Sword of the Jedi” business. But swords lost their threat level if waved around. So it was time for a normal dinner, pretending there were no morally challenged assassins hiding among guilt-riddled kid soldiers stationed at the entrances to the cafeteria. Her comlink blinked with a familiar code, and her heart clenched - it COULDN’T be - “NO!” Tionne sobbed - Kam was holding her, and the Force suddenly filled with a disturbance - Jaina reached for Mom, finding her totally focused in flight, the Coruscant temple burning behind the Falcon. And Serpa looked like a child in a ryshcate factory. The students were too disciplined to whisper overtly, but the younger ones shivered, and the older Padawans comforted them. Which left the sudden entrance of a series of amphistaffs somewhat ... unnoticed. Until the ophidians slithered around the snipers’ ankles, dropping them, and Jag and Zekk held blaster or lightsaber - recovered from the safe in Kam’s office - to Serpa’s throat. “You DARE -” Serpa began, but Jaina had had QUITE enough. She Force-yanked Serpa’s weapon to her hand, then stomped over to him and said clearly, “Major. Obviously, you’re incompetent. And since I never actually filed my retirement papers with the GA Navy, I’m assuming emergency command of this guard detail.” “Wh - you CAN’T -” Serpa spat, and everyone went quiet. “Yes, I can. I recall General Order 1-A-7.4 - something about fitness to command? It starts with keeping one’s uniform in order, and since I still HAVE my boots, and you don’t ... well. Lieutenant - Gorbit, is it?” Jaina asked Serpa’s aide, a terribly young human man with annoyingly short blond hair who ran over to her. “Yes’m,” Gorbit replied, sparing Serpa a brief look of disgust - the kid had felt decent through the Force, and he’d been outraged when Serpa had been about to order the massacre everybody had been fearing. “I assume you find the ... contingency plan which Major Serpa hinted at to be morally and militarily unnecessary? To be immoral orders?” Jaina asked. Gorbit looked nervous until Jaina continued, “Permission granted to speak freely, Gorbit. The colonel IS my brother, even if he’s a shavit-head.” “... Yes’m. With all due respect, Major, these are children and their teachers we’re holding hostage. We’re supposed to be better than the Empire. I have to ask you to turn over command before something horrible happens,” Gorbit insisted to Serpa. “You - Alderaan DESERVED it, you schutta! YOU HEAR ME!? YOUR BLOODSTRIPE-KRIFFING MOTHER’S HOMEWORLD *DESERVED* IT!” Serpa ROARED at Jaina - He blacked out when Jag‘s blaster bounced off of his temple, as the kids cheered. “Lieutenant, I apologize, but -” Jaina sighed, before shaking Gorbit’s hand. “None needed, ma’am. Serpa’s a monster. Why the colonel promoted him to command this mission is beyond us. None of us would’ve pulled the trigger, I promise,” Gorbit said, sounding disillusioned as Kam and Tionne started coordinating with the now-contrite GAG sergeants and other troops. “We need more like you, Gorbit. And ... about my commission paperwork being lost ...?” Jaina said, whistling innocently until Gorbit winked. “We still remember the Trickster, Colonel. You saved a lot of lives during the Vong War, and some of us wish YOU were leading up the Guard. We’ll coordinate with the Jedi Masters - please excuse me,” the kid said. Jaina kissed Jag once he reached her, and he let Zekk haul Serpa off to Force knew where - Jaina didn’t really care. “The Shawnkyr is warmed up. There’s room enough for everyone, once we get coordinates,” Jag said. “We can rule out Coruscant - the Temple ... it’s under attack, Jag. Jacen’s thugs are ATTACKING THE TEMPLE ...” Jaina growled - sobbed? Her comlink flashed, and she answered thickly, “Solo.” “Jaina!? Is the Praxeum all right?!” Corran Horn asked, and Jaina closed her eyes in relief. “You got away. Yeah - we’re preparing to evac. The GAG troops here defied orders and didn’t attack us. Is -” she was about to ask - she should be worried about the rest of the Order, not just Mom and Anakin. “Han and Leia pulled us out. We haven’t been able to reach Anakin or Luke,” Corran sighed. “And no word from Ben ... Corran - all right. Where should we rendezvous?” Jaina asked, loathing what she had to do next. She was the Sword. She had to protect the Padawans and get them to safety. No matter the cost to her heart. “We’re sending coordinates now. There’s no word from Betsy Braddock, either ...” Corran said, his voice not quite hiding an accusation. “Betsy went to help Ben. The Council are accomplished Masters, too. Don’t forget that,”Jaina snapped - not very fair, but Corran and the rest of the Council HAD let Betsy search for her homeworld. Complaining now was just hypocrisy ... and Jacen felt horribly wrong, when Jaina COULD sense him. “... THAT’S the Jaina I remember. See you at the rendezvous,” Corran said, a smirk in his voice, and Jaina nodded, checking the coordinates. “Endor,” Jaina told Jag in a soft voice - she respected their GAG “prisoners” for their decency, but she wasn’t going to TRUST them. “We’ll load the ship. What about ...?” Jag asked, glancing at Gorbit and the small knot of GAG officers being watched by a circle of older Padawans. “Ossus isn’t as barren as it used to be. Once we wipe the Praxeum’s computers clean, let them hole up here until their ride arrives,” Jaina suggested at Kam and Tionne’s request for mercy through the Force. “And their landing craft?” Jag asked, half-smirking. “Coolant leaks. Why do you think Serpa wanted you and I to hunt Zekk in the first place?” Jaina almost smiled. ----------------------------------------------------------- Vjun: Castle Bast: Day After the Battle of Corellia: ----------------------------------------------------------- He stirred ... and something nagged at Ben’s mind. He pulled back the vorazh membrane, a sort of living blanket that warmed and cleansed - Vongtech WAS useful, he admitted - his body, then slipped off of his bed of hau polyps. He had his own room; it was nice of Jacen to have given him his own bedchamber, and the twins were rooming together Ben was glad of the physical privacy; he was troubled by his nudity, even with the groin pouch. He was troubled by a LOT of things. #Jacen tortured Dad, used me to try and make Dad doubt himself. Jacen attacked the Jedi, sent GAG troops to Ossus, ignored Anakin getting captured ... we could’ve SAVED Ani,# Ben thought, tearing up. Jacen had lied. He wanted to mindwipe Ben, make him ... Paxis. Someone else. Someone forever Shaped. Ben shuddered as the Shaped groupmind pulled at his free will; part of him WANTED to stay Shaped. To be ... #... not Ben. Not bad, but if Jasa really loves me, then why’s he keep offering to mindwipe me?# Ben realized. Maybe Dad wasn’t totally right for the Jedi, either. But Dad LOVED Ben, honestly; he might not be comfortable with Ben being Shaped ... but Dad had reached out. And so had Mom. Ben didn’t want to leave. He really didn’t want to abandon Tace and Allana, but Tenel Ka was here. And Jacen wouldn’t hurt the twins ... That was when Ben heard a ... shearing, at his room’s door membrane ... and gasped, then remembered who ELSE had come for him, as the door was forced open, and Ben cheered: “ARTOO!!!!” His family’s faithful astromech droid rolled through the door, and Ben knelt and hugged his oldest friend. “You know me, even if I’m Shaped? Artoo, thanks! Don’t be scared, please?” Ben begged, and he rubbed his cheek against the droid’s dome. “Reooo-twoodt! Dwoo broot twoodl,” Artoo replied, cheerfully, and Ben nodded - he wasn’t Threepio, but he’d been around Artoo enough to know the little droid DID feel - did care. “Thanks, pal. Listen, we gotta -” Ben began ... and then a shadow fell on them, and Artoo moaned. Ben looked up, finally standing as Jacen looked at him with ... sorrow? Disappointment? Sympathy? He just handed Ben a robeskin, and said gently, “Put it on. I’m not angry, just ... sad, and sorry.” “Jasa? I ... don’t understand ... I mean, I’m weirded out by the Shaping, and I’m not happy about what you did to Dad, but ...” Ben said, putting on the robeskin, then his combat belt and Mom’s lightsaber. He gasped when Jacen grabbed him by the neck - not cruelly, not to hurt him, but REALLY fast - and it felt like something was being pulled OUT of Ben, his whole body felt numb ... and Ben felt his body, and blushed normally, as he realized he was HUMAN again. He staggered, suddenly feeling ... empty ... as the groupmind’s pressure faded from his mind, and Jacen supported him. Even their Force bond was ... no stronger than the ones Ben had with the other Solos. “I WAS cruel. And thoughtless. You saved Tace, asked to be allowed to go home, and I subjected you to near enslavement. You deserve to make up your OWN mind,” Jacen said, leading Ben and Artoo to some kind of lift. “But ... where’ll ... and the twins ... and Tenel Ka?” Ben asked, feeling like he’d run a 10K drill with Jori and the guys. He gasped a little when he recognized the dovin basal portal room. “I’m sending you and Artoo to Betsy. Whatever issues I have with her, she loves you as much as I do. All I ask is that you make your own decision about what side to take, if there’s a side TO take. I promise, the twins and Tenel Ka will be safe. And if you ever want to rejoin the Shaped, we’ll welcome you,” Jacen promised, opening the portal. He gently pushed Ben through, and Artoo quickly followed, as the portal closed ... and Ben gasped, as he and Artoo hid in an alcove; Ben recognized this place ... “Nar Shaddaa!? Thanks a LOT, Jacen. UnShape me, then dump me on the Smugglers’ Moon without even underwear ...” Ben muttered, kneeling down beside Artoo to catch his breath. Artoo toodled in relief and comfort, and Ben leaned gratefully on his pal. “At least I have you, buddy ... it’s just so ... sudden,” the boy breathed ... Then how he’d taken the Shaping for granted hit him - how ... right IT had felt ... Ben shuddered; he’d been so ... LOST ... in what he’d been - He broke into wracking, horrified sobs, clinging to Artoo as the little droid toodled sadly, and Ben wheezed, “I ... it’s ... I didn’t THINK, Artoo. Even Dad let me THINK. How could I ...?” “Wroo tweet dwooooo,” Artoo said, projecting a hologram, and Ben recognized it: Him, back on Dathomir, with Mom, Dad, Aunt Leia, Uncle Han, and everyone else ... and Aunt Betsy, smiling in the background. “They ... never gave up on me ... like you didn’t. Thanks, Artoo,” Ben said, managing a smile as he stood, and rubbed Artoo’s dome. Ben might’ve been lost for a while, but he had a second chance. And he knew who to ask for, and who to offer, help. ----------------------------------------------------------- Betsy was NOT pleased. She was chained to Gardulla’s dais, dressed in a gold bikini, and forced to watch Remy ... dance ... also in a gold bikini. Bloody hell, the Cajun had worn more as swimwear. Well, the fat schutta could take a LOT from her, Betsy thought, but only Betsy could FEEL humiliated. And when the moment was right, Gardulla would pay for all of this ... no. Betsy would take out Gardulla WITHOUT the dark side ... “Hey, Your Bloatedness! Can I get a break!? This ain’t ’xactly without chafing?” Remy snapped, dodging another electrostaff prod from Gardulla’s majordomo, a Twi’lek male. {But I *LIKE* you scratching, Red Eyes. Bab, shock him! Dance, prettyboy! DANCE! HOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!} Gardulla cackled, and Remy had to start writhing again ... Gardulla had also made it VERY clear what would happen if Remy used his power; a rumble from the grate beneath the dance floor warned of some unspeakable monster ... Hutts were just bloody obnoxious, Betsy decided. Worst of all, Tarfang was counting stacks of credits, and Betsy was sitting beside none other than ... Salacious Crumb. Jabba’s court jester, the Kowakian monkey-lizard, had SURVIVED the destruction of Jabba’s sail barge, and he had found employment with Gardulla. Every time Betsy even glanced around, Salacious HAD to cackle, “OoOoOoOoOo. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” #Bloody HELL, I’m going to -# Betsy thought - and the lights went out, as Gardulla raged, {WHO KRIFFED WITH THE POWER!? I’m running a wretched hive of scum and villainy here!} Before Betsy could wrap her chain around the Hutt, precise blaster shots from the front door started picking off ysalamiri ... and Betsy gasped in joy as an IMPOSSIBLE Force signature appeared, along with her Force senses. The lights came back on, and the clack of Remy’s collar opening made the crowd gasp (and Remy breathe a sigh of relief) ... as BEN - bald!? - raced in, Mara’s lightsaber in one hand, a blaster in the other, and yelled, “Aunt Betsy, to your right! FORCE PUSH!” “Ben, how - oh. OH, that’s BRILLIANT!” Betsy said, grinning as she pushed the thaw button on a certain carbonite slab. Gardulla’s eyes bugged out, Salacious shrieked, and Tarfang gulped, “Yub-uh-oh.” A cloud of steam, followed by a growl, made everyone freeze. “SOMEBODY froze me,” Ganner Rhysode ... rumbled. “THE GANNER IS *NOT* HAPPY.” And the bodies started flying. --------------------------------------------------------- Korriban Solar Orbit, Outer Rim Territories, Galactic East: --------------------------------------------------------- She left the shuttle, walking to the command deck of her contribution to the One Sith, her new slave at her heels. Construction hadn’t taken terribly long; her innate powers, mingled with the knowledge that fool of an ex-lover of hers had entrusted her with, AND her new Sith might, had enabled the woman once known as Marie LaVonne the abilities to replicate her Master’s greatest weapon. Far worse for the Galactic Alliance and the heretic Solo, the second Star Forge was drawing not only from Korriban’s star, but also from sacrificed Sith acolytes. The dark side caressed Darth Rogue, and she purred at its touch ... and examined the one power source the Star Forge couldn’t exhaust, floating in a core power generation tank. The ... Chagrian, Darth Wyyrlok, joined Rogue as she bowed; she recognized she was new to the cause, but had earned a degree of respect for providing them a new armada. Still, showing respect was never a bad idea. Enough of the Mississippi Marauder remained to remind her of her manners. “Lord Krayt extends his ... regret, that he cannot join us,” Wyyrlok said, returning Rogue’s bow. “Ah understand, Lord Wyyrlok. There will be time enough for Lord Krayt t’tour our new fortress. Everything in time ... it took me many months t’accept mah ability t’touch the Force, much less embrace the dark side. Lord Malak’s holocron freed mah innermost desires, taught me the ways of pain, betrayal, and hunger,” Rogue said. She slapped her riding crop against the tank, and smiled cruelly, adding, “ESPECIALLY betrayal ... ” The tank’s occupant - the mutant Joseph, the magnakinetic clone of Rogue’s ex-lover, Magneto, and a would be paramour of Rogue - screamed, as the Star Forge used him as the focus for its extraction of solar material from Korriban’s star. Rogue just laughed, then motioned her plaything to follow ... and the slave that had been Jori Lekauf, now shaved bald, wearing a spiked collar and a thong, scuttled behind her, joyful. Darth Rogue grinned at Wyyrlok and said, “So, who do y’all want me t’whoop the livin’ Force outta first?” ----------------------------------------------------- Medical Lab, Bast Castle, Vjun: ----------------------------------------------------- He waited, rechecking the nutrient feeds; those, with the Force flash imprinting, were the most critical parts. Caedus wasn’t going to twist his twins. They deserved happy lives; they could be Sith if they WANTED, but that was at least 10 years away. Caedus DID miss Ben, terribly, but he’d proven ... not too soft, but too NICE to be a Sith. Honestly, part of Caedus didn’t want to hurt Ben. So, Caedus had decided to split the difference ... and get an apprentice another way. If Ben ever returned, Caedus would gladly welcome him ... another set of twins would hardly be a bad thing. The pod hissed open, dripping nutrient fluid as its occupant emerged; Caedus looked the new arrival over. The hairlessness, the claws and talons, the groin pouch, all were in place; the teen boy’s body was symmetrical, proportioned correctly, and his Force presence was NOT warped by his ... status. Careful brain chemistry and Force adjustments in utero had ensured that. Caedus wrapped the Shaped boy in a vorazh towel. And the teen asked, in Vong, “... Father?” “Hello, son. Welcome to home,” Caedus told the boy, who beamed, and gladly let Caedus rub his head. The boy moaned delightedly as the groupmind welcomed him, and his blue eyes sparkled when Caedus handed him a lightsaber. The boy carefully ignited the weapon ... grinning when its red blade lit his skin in crimson. “Father, THANK you! How may I serve?” the boy gushed. “Just keep being loyal,” Caedus said, grinning back ... at Paaxis, Ben’s clone. ----------------------------------------------------- tbc...