MOTF Book I: BOTE Chapter 10

Dylan stood on an open field and glanced all around him. He saw the faces of his soldiers staring into the circle they formed with their bodies. He saw a lone warrior standing in front of him, encased in slim armor and holding a sword with a slight bend to it.

Dylan grinned behind his spiked helmet as he drew his own blade. He stared into the blackness of his sword as he flourished its blade in front of him. After drawing his sword into a ready stance, he stared into the mask of the warrior who stood before him and asked, “Are you ready to begin, Shorya?" His voice sounded like that of an overexaggerated announcer on one of Fernin's computer fighting games.

Shorya let out a small chuckle at Dylan's deliberately exaggerated tone of voice. "Are you going to do this every time we fight?" she asked exasperatedly. Dylan couldn't see behind the faceplate of her helmet, but if he could, he assumed he'd see her rolling her eyes in amusement.

"Come on Shorya," Dylan chuckled. "You know you laughed at that."

He watched as she coyly twirled her blade around her body. "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. There's only one way for you to find out," she said as she pointed her blade at him.

"Indeed," Dylan responded, a tone of anticipation dripping from his very voice as he held his sword at the ready. "Your move."

Almost immediately, Shorya charged at him with quick purposeful steps, and slashed at him. Dylan parried her blade, before returning her strike with three of his own. He watched as his dark blade met with her almost silvery one as she deflected his blows off to the side.

"Come on Shorya," Dylan said taking a pause. "I know you can do better than that."

"So can you," Shorya responded with a chuckle.

"Very well," Dylan conceded, now grinning. "Let's step things up a notch!"

Almost immediately after the words had left his mouth, he and Shorya were all over each other. Their blades clashed an innumerable number of times in the next couple of minutes. Their movements were perfectly synchronized with one another. One attacked, the other parried. One took a step forward, the other took a step back. It was almost like a dance.

Over the past few months, Dylan had sparred with Shorya countless times, and was actually finding himself increasingly drawn to her. Her fighting skills impressed him so much, that after the first couple of missions his squad embarked on with their new recruits, he had granted her the position of leader of the tactical unit in his squad.

Their synchronization was perfect, whether in sparring matches, or side by side in a battle. It was almost as if he could feel what she was about to do before she did it. This of course was a rather common feeling Dylan had fighting with anyone, however, this was the first time he thought he recognized a similar proclivity in somebody else. The result was a harmony of blades and guns in the midst of a chaotic battlefield, or an entertaining friendly sparring match now and again.

Dylan found value in sparring with her, but not as much as he did talking to her. Though her combat skills impressed him greatly, he found himself more drawn to her personality. Though his squad was full of the best friends a man could ask for, Shorya listened to him in a way the others could not. He felt more open with her than he did with anyone else. No matter what the situation, he could always count on Shorya to listen to him, and support him in his choices and convictions.

Despite how much fun he was having, Dylan knew this contest had to end sooner or later.

After a few more clashes, Dylan recognized a familiar pattern in her technique, and he readied himself for an inevitable move. He readied himself to exploit the opening that move of hers would provide him with.

Sure enough, Shorya fell into a pattern of quick diagonal cuts and slashes coming in on the corners of Dylan’s defenses, and Dylan defended patiently, waiting for that horizontal slash at his legs that would come soon.

Finally, after ten seconds of defending against Shorya’s flurry of diagonal slashes, when the horizontal one should’ve come, it didn’t. Right when her attack was almost certain, Shorya swiftly transitioned into an overhead chop as Dylan’s blade was down low, ready to block a strike at his legs.

Dylan would’ve lost then and there, had he not felt something right as he was blocking down low. A voice of alarm cried out in the back of his mind, and at the last possible second, Dylan frantically thrust his blade upwards and caught Shorya’s a couple of inches away from the top of his helmet.

Without missing a beat, Dylan pressed his blade up and to his left with all of his might, before twisting his body, and slamming it into Shorya’s. As she fell to the ground, Dylan slid his left hand across her right arm, caught the hilt of her sword, and wrenched it from her hands, letting it fall to the ground next to them. Concurrently, Dylan flicked his blade towards Shorya’s head and caught the bottom of her helmet, knocking it off of her head, and sending it tumbling across the ground behind her.

As Shorya lay sprawled out on the ground, Dylan quickly stepped between her spread out legs, effectively blocking her off from any attempts to kick him. Now grinning, Dylan took off his own helmet with his left hand, and extended his right arm, pointing the tip of his blade at Shorya’s throat. “I win!” Dylan said in his exaggerated announcer voice, with a huge grin spread out across his face.

After a brief pause, Dylan sheathed his sword, and extended his right hand towards Shorya. As she grasped onto it, he stepped back, and helped her to her feat.

“Nice duel!” Dylan exclaimed as he released her hand. “You’re getting better all the time!”

“Still not any closer to beating you than I was a month ago,” Shorya sighed.

“Well,” Dylan said thoughtfully. “Maybe you aren’t the only one improving,” he said with a self satisfied grin.

As he turned away, Dylan felt something hit his legs, and he toppled forwards on the ground. When he rolled onto his back and looked up, he saw a blade pointed at his throat. Holding the blade was Shorya with a sly smile on her face. “I win!” she said, in an obvious imitation of Dylan’s announcer voice.

There was a brief silence before Dylan, Shorya, and the rest of the squad burst out into uproarious laughter.

As Dylan rolled back onto his feet, he glanced around at each of his squad members. Each one with their own unique armament and skill set.

He glanced over at the communications unit. The Communications Leader, Walton, was a loyal soldier. One of the first members of the squad, Walton was experienced with a sword, perhaps the greatest duelist in the squad, after Dylan and Shorya of course. He was also familiar with a variety of ranged weapons, ranging from automatic blaster rifles to rocket launchers. Perhaps the most unique thing about Walton’s armament was his rocket boots. Whenever Walton was in a tight spot, or just needed to cover distance quickly, the thrusters on the sides of his boots ensured that he would get where he needed to be.

Also with him were Barto and Herndon, the two Communications Advisers. Barto was a fairly calm guy with a double bladed short-sword and an automatic blaster rifle. He seemed pretty humble to Dylan. Herndon, by contrast, was perhaps the least humble person in the entire squad. Armed with a broadsword and a photon blaster, Herndon had delusions, far beyond what was befitting of a twelve year old girl. Dylan wouldn’t have let her on the squad at all, if it weren’t for that promise he made Shorya a few months ago. Herndon had been a member of Shorya’s former squad, and one of the only other three survivors of it. As much as she got on his nerves, his promise to Shorya was more important than that, so he honored it in its entirety by letting Herndon be on his squad.

He then looked over at the tech unit. The Tech Leader, Barre was a rather logical minded soldier. His skill with technology was unmatched by anybody else in the squad, hence the reason he was the undisputed leader of the tech unit. His armament was anything but standard, consisting of his own creations. He wielded a highly electrified shock baton, with a maximum voltage powerful enough to kill an Innamortan with prolonged contact, even with the protection of armor. On his left hand, he wore a metalic gauntlet with a laser attachment, and an attachment that shoots lightning out at its targets.

Dylan found himself rather intrigued by the idea of being able to shoot lightning from ones hands, but the range and control of Barre’s creation left much to be desired. Dylan definitely planned on taking a look into that technology at one point. Perhaps utilizing it when it reached a point of greater user friendliness. Something more personal than the randomized outpour of electricity. Still though, Dylan liked the idea of himself as a ruler who could shoot lightning from his hands.

On either side of Barre were Chase and Dirk, the two Tech Advisors. The two had an interesting relationship. They shared a distinct rivalry with one another. Not a bitter rivalry, but a rivalry nonetheless. Chase was a rather short boy, about a year younger than the majority of people in the squad, while Dirk by contrast was tall and skinny. Chase wielded a focus beam, and a personal energy shield. The focus beam was an interesting contraption. Basically, it was a laser that made use of high energy radiation condensed into a focused beam to destroy a target. Quite ingenious, Dylan had to admit, but not particularly efficient.

Dirk on the other hand wielded a personal energy shield of a similar makeup to Chase’s, but rather than wielding a laser based weapon, Dirk made use of a railgun. Dirk's wrist mounted railgun used magnetic relays to fire a magnetic projectile at an immense velocity, while at the same time, releasing a blast of lightning that followed the projectile and electrocuted the target. Something that confused Dylan was Dirk's interest in Herndon. He seemed to have some sort of attraction to her. Though Dylan usually made it a point to learn more about things he didn’t understand, this was really something he did not want to get involved in.

Next, Dylan looked over at his stealth unit. The Stealth Leader, Sullivan, was a rather short boy, and an entertaining companion to have around when Dylan needed a laugh. Though Sullivan had a pretty outgoing distinct personality, as a result of his size and expertise, he could go virtually unnoticed whenever he felt like it, even without the  use of the cloaking devices standard to all members of the Tech Unit. Sullivan favored the use of a longed range laser rifle, which effectively allowed him to operate as a sniper. Though, when the need for close quarters combat came into play, Sullivan always had a combat knife at the ready.

Standing with Sullivan were Seph and View, the two Stealth Advisors. Seph was a rather quiet and shy kinda guy. Though he was a valued member of the squad, Seph often appeared and disappeared from social settings, seemingly at random, in ways such that his sudden presence or lack-of was not noticeable to anybody else for a good few minutes. It was this talent that made him such a successful member of the Stealth Unit. Much like everyone else in the Stealth Unit, Seph was equipped with a cloaking device, and a combat knife for close quarters. His ranged weapon of choice, however, was the precision laser. The precision laser was a special type of automatic blaster rifle with a great deal of precision, and packed a considerable punch, particularly when its green blaster bolts made contact with vital targets on the enemy’s body.

View on the other hand was not as quiet and withdrawn as Seph, but she did make a point of sneaking up on other people for fun. Sometimes, it got a little irritating for Dylan, but much like Sullivan and Seph, this talent was what made her such a valued member of the Stealth Unit. Like Herndon, View was one of the few survivors from Shorya’s original squad, and thus, when she was found, she was instantly made a part of Dylan’s squad. Her weapon of choice was a blaster nicknamed “the bubble blaster.” The bubble blaster rapidly fired projectiles of a chemical mixture that held a slight homing capability based on infrared technology. Though an effective weapon for one who never wished to miss their mark, Dylan couldn’t help but feel a little bit underwhelmed by the punch it held. Nevertheless, View seemed to have taken a liking to it.

Last, but certainly not least, Dylan glanced over at his Tactical Squad. His Tactical Advisors, Weiss and Foyle, were standing side by side. Foyle, similar to Herndon and View, was a part of Shorya’s former squad, and one of the few survivors. Still, Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that the whole experience had somehow left her traumatized and disturbed. Dylan couldn’t help but notice cuts on her face, and the black blood of the shadikill on the blades of several of her throwing knives. Still, she was a frightening soldier to behold on the battlefield, and wielded a pretty unique set of weapons on the battlefield. Aside from her throwing knives, Foyle also had a flamethrower and a bladed whip at her disposal. Though Dylan never found the whip to be a particularly practical weapon for his tastes, he could not deny that Foyle had an impressive degree of mastery over her weapon.

Weiss seemed to have some sort of obsession with Foyle. Now this was something Dylan definitely did not want to know more about. Weiss was a skilled combatant in his own right, being armed with a sword, an automatic blaster rifle, and a belt of grenades. Nick was also pretty impulsive, much like Dylan himself actually. Nick seemed a bit unstable to Dylan, but never the less was a fun person to be around and a valued friend.

And then of course, there was Shorya, his Tactical Leader. Dylan couldn’t even begin to describe how much her presence as a member of his squad had changed his life. He always felt like she listened to and understood him in ways nobody else did. It was almost like they had some kind of special bond.

Ever since Shorya had joined the squad, she had become a more and more formidable warrior. Her weapons and armor had been upgraded. She traded her old sword for a more ergonomic sword with a slight bend in the blade, and she swapped her old automatic blaster rifle, for one that fired more rapidly, and with more powerful laser blasts.

But more than her skills as a warrior, Dylan valued her companionship as a friend. Over the past few months, he found himself increasingly drawn to her. Something about her just entranced him and drew him in. Perhaps it was the way her dark hair flowed down the edges of her face. Or perhaps it was her deep brown eyes that beckoned. But more than anything else, it was that she understood him, and that was something infinitely valuable to Dylan.

Glancing around at his squad, Dylan saw that each of it’s members had their flaws, but together, they were perfection made manifest. Dylan realized just how fortunate he was to have friends like these.

——————————————————————————

Meditating in a relatively empty temple on Korriban sat Darth Malvot. Recently infuriated by certain fruits of her venture on Felucia that were never born to her, due to Odious and his mindless grinning bulldog Carthage, Malvot sat underneath the roof of a Sith temple, letting her anger and hatred fester. She could feel the darkness flowing through her as her hatred smoldered beneath her flesh. Had she not developed the control she had after decades of experience, this temple would no longer be standing.

Malvot was beyond angry, she was furious. Carthage, when I get my hands on you, I am going to make you squeal! she thought to herself. You are going to be dancing on puppet strings, with the fist of the Dark Side up your rectum like the whore you are! After years of dealing with Carthage, Malvot was growing increasingly tired of his presence.

It was then that Malvot felt an all too familiar presence. One that made her blood boil, and her mouth quiver with fury. “Speaking of people I hate…” she muttered to herself as she turned to face Darth Slazer standing in the entrance of the temple. “I’m surprised to see you so far away from the Temple of Blades,” Malvot greeted as Slazer stomped closer and closer to her. “There are apprentices who need to learn how to swing a stick.”

Slazer was not amused. She was angry. The only solace Slazer took in Malvot’s endeavor was the fact that Odious had claimed the precious healing herbs Malvot sought after so dearly. “What the hell were you doing on Felucia!” Slazer cried out in outrage.

“Succeeding where you failed,” Malvot replied with a sneer behind a cold veneer of amusement. Malvot could practically feel the anger rolling off of Slazer’s body in waves, and she knew her own bloodlust was barely contained behind a fragile shell of calm and control. But the shell was indeed holding, for now at least.

“My warriors were driving the enemy back before you swooped in at the end and claimed all of the credit for yourself!” Slazer cried out in outrage.

“Your warriors were deadlocked by the Triumvirate army,” Malvot responded indignantly. “I killed Kagar, I decimated their army, and I single handedly brought down an entire dreadnaught while your ‘unstoppable warriors’ panicked and ran around like a bunch of wild Banthas!”

“Why were you there?!” Slazer coldly demanded, the hatred seething from her voice, completely ignoring her previous remarks.

“The Battle of Felucia was a pivotal point in this war,” Malvot explained, her voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. “A vital strategic foothold we needed to claim in order to press the advantage in this war. I was simply not willing to leave a mission of such importance in the hands of a bunch of barbarous fools who wouldn’t know the true power of the Dark Side if it flowed through every corner of their body, as it does in mine.”

“How dare you!” Slazer exclaimed. “If you weren’t a member of the Dark Council, I’d-“

“You’d do what?” Malvot inquired. “There’s nobody here but you and me. What are you afraid of Slazer? The fact that your blade can not reach me any easier than your apprentices can reach an average level of intelligence?”

It was at this point that Slazer snapped. "I will smear the walls with you bitch!"

Slazer drew her standard lightsaber, and charged at Malvot with a loud battle cry. Her charge was one of pent up fury finally being unleashed on the world. When she finally reached Malvot’s form and swung her blade, it met with thin air as the visage of Malvot dissolved in front of her. Slazer turned around just in time too see Malvot with an outstretched palm before she felt her body flying through the air like a rag doll.

Malvot grinned with satisfaction as Slazer’s body slammed into the wall, leaving a sharp cracking sound as the temple itself shook from the impact.

The wall behind her almost destroyed, Slazer stood up and snarled, and found her glare met by Malvot’s own. Her blinding fury muting any pain she may have been feeling, Slazer clipped her standard saber to her waist, then removed her lightsaber pike from her back, and again charged at Malvot, this time more cautiously.

Malvot clapped her hands together in the first gesture of cosmic energy and sent a blast of glowing red energy hurtling towards Slazer, but Slazer rolled to the right before the blast of cosmic energy reached her. She then raised the tip of her lightsaber pike to catch a crackling bolt of lightning unleashed from Malvot’s staff, before swinging the pole-arm with both arms, and slapping the bolt harmlessly to the side.

Malvot sent three more bolts of lightning flying her way, all of which Slazer deflected to the side, just as easily as the first, before continuing her charge.

Setting her staff to the side, Malvot unleashed several more blasts of Cosmic energy in Slazer’s direction. Though Slazer was quick enough to dodge every blast, she could still feel the searing heat permeating her very soul. She welcomed the pain, and used it to spur her anger on. To feed the fires of an already raging inferno.

By the time Slazer came within a few feat of her, Malvot had summoned her staff back into her hands, and sent a current of force lightning running along its shaft.

The room was bathed in a brilliant flashes of red and violet light as the short bloodshine blade of Slazer’s lightsaber pike clashed with Malvot’s staff, now pulsating and crackling with violet energy. Though Malvot’s raw strength in the force was enough for her to perceive and respond to the first of Slazer’s strikes, Slazer was a master of the art of dueling.

After her blade slashed at Malvot’s staff three times, she already had Malvot at a retreat, and by the time her blade had made it’s fifth slash, Slazer saw her opening. A quick but decisive cut left a long searing gash on Malvot’s face. When Malvot screamed and frantically scurried back from the pain, Slazer lightly slashed Malvot across her legs.

Malvot tried to scurry back, but it was no use. When the blade came at her face next, she swatted it aside with her staff, but her face still met the blunt edge of Slazer’s pike. A deafening crack was heard as Malvot’s head snapped to the side from the impact.

Not missing a beat, Slazer swatted Malvot’s staff aside with her blade, before slamming the other end of her pike into Malvot’s gut with all of her might. She grunted with effort as the pommel of her pike hit Malvot with a loud boom and sent her tumbling backwards into a heap, five meters away from Slazer.

As Slazer leaped through the air to finish off her opponent, Malvot let out a shrill scream as a burst of explosive telekinetic energy flew out from every side of her body. The temple buckled under the force, the cracks in the wall Slazer had been punted into earlier were now twice as large, and the floor underneath Malvot was all but destroyed.

Slazer herself was sent flying by the attack. Had she not thrown up a defensive barrier, she knew her body parts would’ve been scattered all across the room in unrecognizable chunks, and the walls would be stained red with her blood. Luckily for Slazer, force barriers were the one aspect of force combat she had actually decided to master.

Malvot stood up, miraculously with no sign of any injury from the beating she had just taken, apart from the slashes in her robes, and the blood on her face. Not even the cut Slazer had levied on her face remained. Snarling with fury, Malvot thrust out her right hand and unleashed a blast of telekinetic power. Slazer braced herself, and her defenses held, but only barely, with her staggering back from the sheer force of the attack.

With her opponent now charging at her yet again, Malvot decided to handle things a little differently. In less than a second, Malvot perceived the atoms of the ground in between herself and Slazer. Focusing intently, Malvot energized the atoms on the top of the ground and sped up their motion.

When Slazer stepped onto the now partially molten stone, Malvot thrust out her hand again, and Slazer braced herself. This time however, Slazer’s feet slipped on the molten stone, and she was sent flying across the room. She felt her face smolder and burn as the molten stone simmered on it.

When Slazer leapt back up to her feet, Malvot sneered and jammed the bottom of her staff into the ground, and almost immediately, the room was filled with spectral images. Some were Sith, some Jedi, and some monsters such as Slazer had never seen before. Slazer could sense that these were no ordinary illusions. She could feel them being empowered and endowed with the force. She did not doubt that if one of these monsters bit her, she would bleed profusely.

Slazer returned the lightsaber pike to its position on her back, before drawing her standard lightsaber with her right hand, and her curved hilt lightsaber with her left. She waved both blades around in a flurry, carving intricate patterns through the air as she waited for these creatures to make their move as they began to circle around her. Then, without warning, they charged.

She twirled both blades in intricate patterns around her body as she deflected the lightsaber blows of the Jedi and Sith, and dodged the tentacles, claws, teeth, and other unrecognizable body parts of the monsters. Each and every time one of her blades found their mark, the spectral projection would explode in a flash of light, and dissipate just as quickly.

One of her blades carved through the outstretched claw of an eldritch abomination as the other was plunged into a mass of tentacles. An inhuman shriek sounded from behind her as her blade bit into the neck of a spectral Jedi Knight. After a dozen more flicks of her blades, there was nothing more surrounding her.

Surprised, Malvot one again jabbed the end of her staff into the ground, then pointed it forwards. From behind her, half a dozen wolf like creatures wreathed in flame charged towards Slazer. Their eyes were a distinct reflection of Malvot’s own eyes. Their teeth and claws glowed purple, like the blade of Amoye Ilu, and what could be called a cruel grin on their faces, largely resembled the look on Captain Carthage’s face whenever he got somebody riled up.

It was their shriek that offset Slazer though. Their shrieks were like a cry of pain. Not just any cry of pain, but Slazer’s own cry of pain. In each of these wolf creatures, Slazer saw her most hated enemies that she had never been able to kill, and heard her own failures reflected in their earsplitting shrieks. And she hated it.

She let the fury within her build to the point at which it was burning as hot as the flames that enveloped these foul creatures that stood before her, circling her, waiting to strike. Finally, when the first one leapt, she was ready.

As the first one leapt at her with its claws outstretched and its teeth bared, Slazer thrust one of her crimson blades into its face with the force of a landspeeder set at maximum speed. Slazer could feel the flames licking at her arms, but she didn’t care at this point. She just wanted these things dead.

She swung her other blade behind her immediately, swiftly severing the outstretched claws of another creature, before slashing her other blade across its face, and erasing it from existence forever. As the remaining four circled around her in anticipation, Slazer danced around them, positioning herself in a spot that would allow her to charge at her real enemy as soon as these creatures were taken care of.

As three of them began to attack with a ferocious amalgamation of clawing, pouncing, and biting, Slazer became a weapon infinitely more fierce than any of them. Her unchecked fury was made manifest in perfect bladework as she swiftly and effortlessly cut all three of the creatures down with perfectly aimed strikes.

As the final wolf creature enveloped itself in an inferno of fire and leapt at her, Slazer raised both of her blades up, and brought them down in an X across the creature’s face. She watched as the light left its eyes, as its claws and teeth dissipated, as its cruel grin twisted into pained grimace, as its shriek became a deathly hiss. Flames shot out to the sides of her as this final creature dissipated and exploded.

Just as she turned to charge at Malvot however, the sorceress raised her staff and sent several violet bolts of lightning flying in her direction. Slazer deflected them all with her bloodshine blades, but was incapable of seizing any ground under this assault. Returning the curved hilt to it’s place at her waist, Slazer swiftly grabbed her lightwhip.

As the next bolt of lightning flew at Slazer, she fired up her lightwhip, hearing its all too familiar hum as it buzzed to life in her hands. As Slazer caught the next bolt of lightning on the blade of her lightsaber, she swung her lightwhip around, and caught Malvot across the left side of her body.

Not giving her opponent any reprieve, Slazer swung around her whip again, this time, making sure it wrapped around Malvot’s staff before flinging it to the side. Now defenseless, Malvot was able to do nothing as Slazer brought around her whip a third time and caught her upside the body, sending her sprawling.

Before Slazer could make another move, Malvot thrust both of her arms out in front of her, and unleashed a deadly storm of crackling lightning. Returning both her lightwhip, and her standard lightsaber to their respective positions along her waist, Slazer desperately grabbed her double bladed lightsaber, activated it, and began to spin it in circular patterns around her body to intercept the fierce storm.

Though a few forks of lightning got through and sent a searing heat and millions of volts coursing through Slazer’s body, her defense held for the most part. Malvot pressed her advantage as she forced Slazer into a slow retreat, while she herself was advancing towards her staff.

When Malvot was but a few meters away from her staff, she broke off the storm, and gestured with her left hand towards it, pulling the staff back into her hand. As Slazer exchanged her double bladed lightsaber for her standard lightsaber and a guard shoto, Malvot extended her staff and her right hand towards her enemy.

When Slazer charged at Malvot, dozens of forks of violet lightning sprang forth from Malvot’s hands to intercept her. Gripping the secondary handle of her guard shoto, Slazer began to twirl it around to intercept the barrage of lightning Malvot was unleashing from her fingertips. At the same time, she raised her standard lightsaber in preparation for whatever attacks Malvot might levy with her staff.

Malvot sneered as Slazer steeped closer and closer to her. Now Malvot decided she had had enough. She began to vigorously thrust her staff out in front of her, sending bolt after bolt of violet lightning hurtling at Slazer, only for Slazer to slap it aside with her lightsaber, albeit with great difficulty. With each step Slazer took towards Malvot, it became harder and harder to deflect her lightning.

Things were headed in one inevitable direction. Once Slazer reached Malvot, a flurry of strikes would meet up with a raging vortex of lightning, and only one of them would walk away alive. It’s all over now both Slazer and Malvot thought to themselves as they drew nearer and nearer, the prospect of obliterating their great rivals almost intoxicating.

It was at that moment that an obnoxiously loud voice broke the air. “Enough!” the voice cried out. Both Malvot and Slazer dropped their hands to their sides and turned to look at this newcomer, and when they laid their eyes upon him, an identical hateful and vengeful glare spread across both of their faces.

“As much fun as it is to watch you play your little games,” the all too familiar Captain Carthage spoke up. “The Dark Lord would rather not lose one of his most powerful councilors. So if you two could please stop derailing the war effort, and actually do something useful, then that would be much appreciated.”

“Do something useful?!” Malvot cried out indignantly. “Slazer’s forces and I just captured Kashyyyk and turned the tide of the war!”

Slazer would’ve called Malvot out on her sudden grouping of them together, but she agreed as much as Malvot did that somebody needed to put this little piece of bantha fodder in his place.

“Whatever,” Carthage responded with an unimpressed tone of voice and a mocking grin on his face. “You only took Kashyyyk by tapping into a bunch of nexus energy. Tell me when you actually do something impressive that isn’t on a nexus.” By this point, an entire squad of the Dark Lord’s guard had taken up positions around the area.

“Know this Captain,” Malvot spat with a distinct venom in her voice and words. “It would not be any harder for me to splatter you all over the walls of a random space station in the middle of nowhere than it would for me to splatter you over the walls of the greatest temples on Korriban!”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Carthage mocked. “The Dark Lord has enjoyed watching the two of you play your cute little game, and he can’t have you derailing the war effort any longer. So leave here and go back to your little politics before I tell the Dark Lord that you are blatantly refusing to accept his order.

"Oh yes! And one more thing,” Captain Carthage called out as they were turning to leave. "The Dark Lord has a special mission for the both of you in a couple of days. I'd advise the two of you to be careful, because it's not on a nexus."

Both Malvot and Slazer limped off in the directions of their respective sphere’s headquarters. Neither could attack each other for fear of evoking the wrath of Darth Odious, perhaps the most powerful and dangerous man alive, but then again neither really wanted to kill each other as much as they had a few minutes ago. At this point, all of their fury was directed at Carthage, but they could not make a move on him without befalling a similar fate to everyone else who defied Dark Lord. If they killed Captain Carthage, death would be the least of their worries.

Nicely done dmb. I loved that you actually used that line for Slazer, the fight scenes with Slazer and Malvot was incredibly well done, the dialogue was great, the action was awesome and the scene with Carthage was hilarious. I enjoyed reading it, hopefully more chapters will come soon, i hope.