SFFS

It's been a long while since I posted something on here and I think it's about time we change that.
Below are the opening lines of a novella I just finished called Big Wolf on Campus (Yes I'm a 90's child. Moving along).
Title may be subject to change.
This little baby will be part of a Halloween release and will also be included in a short story collection published by AEC Stellar.
More details on my twitter account (@enkousama).

This story still takes place in the Legacy universe but it is way before First Born. No succubii, no Sins, no angels - just a wizard and his talking cat.

Enjoy.

I live life by two tenants: number one - never speak to me before my first cup of coffee.

Rule number two - never break rule number one.

Period.

“Yep. That's a dead guy,” I said nonchalantly.

Detective Roland March raised his eyebrows from where he was kneeling - right next to the pile of flesh and bone that had once been Woodridge High's most prized quarterback.

I had barely made it to the small clearing outside of campus when a small swarm of journalists assaulted me with questions: Roland wriggled from the crowd and shooed everyone away before handing me some coffee.

He showed me what was left of the corpse: it looked like it had been through a blender. And believe it or not, that wasn’t the part that interested me - I’m used to gore.

I was more intrigued by the set of paw prints leading from the corpse into the woods next to the high school.

“Maybe he met Lord Voldemort in there.”

Murphy can suck it

It's been nearly a month since I posted anything on this thing, so I better get cracking. As you can see I'm not an avid blogger: this is really just a diary for me where I dump all the horrible mental shit that goes through my head.
It's very cool though that you guys react to it.

So I should maybe give some updates and see where that leads.
For starters, I have finally finished the last draft I am willing to do of First Born. Now it's in the hands of God, my manager and the worker bees at AEC Stellar and an editor. Book 2 is written but needs to go through the process before I am even comfortable releasing proper snippets of preview chapters.

Then there are the Pandora Chronicles.
What is that, I heard you ask.
Well, my ethereal friends; the Pandora Chronicles is a series of books the first of which I am working on right now. It's Sci-Fi and action-adventure. It's Indiana Jones meets Assassins Creed.
And if you want to read the prologue of the first book take a peak over here: http://enkousama.blogspot.com/2012/12/genesis.html
Yep. Genesis is in fact the prologue of this novel and should give you an idea of what to expect.

Wraith: Agent of the Force is over as well. That Star Wars fanfiction short story took a lot out of me as one of the longest projects, but it is over too.
check out the full story here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9176627/1/Wraith-Agent-of-the-Force

As of yesterday I have finished writing a TV pilot and am trying desperately to improve it. It's bad right now- I mean, this thing looks like it's been hit by a truck.

Meanwhile I've had one of the worst weeks of my life. It seems that the universe is trying to impose Murphy's Law on me.
Here's a list:
- a minor car crash which did no damage to the cars involved but left me with nine stitches around the knee.
- my computer is away for repairs for two weeks
- I can't work on the things I need to work on with regards to edits and short stories.
- and of course I can't walk, drive or train or otherwise alleviate the stress welling up inside of me.

Maybe there is a God out there - and the bastard is probably laughing his ass off at me. All I know is that if I ever see Fortuna, the Roman goddess of fortune, I am bitch slapping her to the next dimension.

My only complaint so far is that I have a lot of time doing nothing, and that is not healthy for me. I tend to start asking questions and be more of an introvert, which usually leads to self doubt and depredations of mental nature.
Once that happens your day is just ruined.

Though I was never a big believer in luck.
One of my favorite Celldweller songs ( and trust me there are a lot of those) is called the Lucky One. The bridge goes something like this:
"I've tried to push straight through the suck
head first but now my fucking head is stuck
I'm feeling like a stupid schmuck
Lucky for me I don't believe in luck"

Anyone who's an artist knows that those words aren't just lyrics - they are a hard hitting documentary!
Anyone who fought through years of sweat, blood and torment (often self inflicted) knows that luck is just a perspective.
So yeah, maybe some people have a random chance of success better than others. That's only 10% of the formula. The remaining 90 is divided between 10% skill and 80% perseverance.

And through that perspective I suppose I'm starting to see the world a little differently. I mean, so what if I can't walk right? At least I didn't lose my leg.
So what if I can't get an much work done as I want to. If I hadn't grabbed pen and paper and decided to write new projects from scratch then I wouldn't have two new shiny additions to my idea drawer. I wouldn't have branched out into writing in a format completely out of my comfort zone.

So I suppose the point of this post is to
A. Let you know I'm alive although only partially kicking.
B. To give you some updates and wave my new projects in your face whilst I'm still in denial of just how much they truly suck big balls.
C. To say a big Fuck you to Murphy, whoever that guy is.

My philosophy is that of the Lucky One (Song not the lame movie).
Murphy's Law can suck it.

Oh by the way

Read my Author's Note here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9176627/32/Wraith-Agent-of-the-Force

I thank people and make promises for future madness. no big deal.

So click on the link.

Do it.

Welcome to the End

Welcome to the final part of the Star wars original fanficiton entitled Wraith: Agent of the Force.

Thank you for your support and please enjoy,

Welcome to the End

They were back on Dathomir: Elara’s home planet. After Darth Ozar’s defeat, she had found her beloved weak and in a pile of rubble. His Force signature was only a fraction of its former self. It seemed that Wraith had burnt through the last of his power and was left as a husk.

She had healed him and marvelled at the look on his face. She had always noticed the heavy look in his eyes; the heavy burden which the universe placed on his shoulders. But now he looked light and at ease. She found herself attracted to the newer version of Wraith.

He had regained his strength on the ship as he asked her to take him to her home world. He needed a planet coated with the Force, a nexus of power, far from prying eyes and curious power mongers. She knew of a cave, on the far edges of the Signing Mountain Clan’s territory.

During this short trip she noted his change and spoke to him about it. He agreed – liked the newer version of himself too. It was then when she asked about his name. Was there a meaning behind Wraith? He said that once his master told him about these ghosts fuelled by a desire to torment and punish. When the Force illuminated him to a higher purpose he decided to become a wraith, a phantom of torment, for the Sith. Now; now he was just a ghost in a shell. There was no purpose for him anymore.

Elara did not understand, but that was fine with Wraith; he would show her soon enough. They arrived at the mouth of the cave and Wraith motioned for the Wraith to sit with him.

“Let me show you,” he said. “All of the future.” He leaned in and kissed her.

Their minds linked and Wraith passed on thoughts to her. He showed her all he remembered: the future that the Force showed him, with all that pain and suffering. But after that wave of darkness, hope and love will reign again and that was what his purpose was.

However, there was no place for him in that future. Mortris, Ozar, the mutants: they were anomalies. But so was he. He needed to remove himself from the future.

A tear welled up in Elara’s eyes:  he had come here to die. That’s why he needed a nexus – to disappear within the Force.

“No,” she whispered. “Not now that we can enjoy peace.” She cupped his face and cried.

“I must,” he said. A lump had formed on his throat. “There is no place for me here. If I am here, then the future will not take place. I will become like Ozar; and I would rather die than destroy the universe.”

He squeezed her hand. “I love you.” He had to stop to swallow and wipe away tears. “I love you but it’s time for me to go.”

“Blast the universe,” she said furiously. “Blast the future too. Why can’t we be together now? We deserve it!”

He smiled at her and kissed her gently. “You don’t mean that. Your heart is good and you know I’m right.”

He looked at the cave. “I’ll stay there and become one with the Force.”

She squeezed his arm. “Then I’ll come with you.”

“You do not have to. You do not have to disappear with me.”

“No!” she screamed. “If you are an anomaly than I am one too. And if I have to become one with the Force to be with you, then so be it.”

Wraith’s tears increased. He couldn’t say anything – just how does one express love so strong, so certain, so pure, in mere words?

So together they entered the cave, never to exit again. They sealed the entrance and created a cocoon of energy for them to lie in. They lay down together, holding hands.

They became one with the Force, transcending the living world. The cave too was hidden from the physical realm. There, they would lie, as phantasmal energy hidden from everyone and everything. There they would lie, in wait until the universe and the Force needed them again.

It was a good life, they lived. They had done right by the universe and now the universe will give them everlasting peace. Theirs was a little world of tranquillity and love. The wraith had served its duty: now the ghost shall rest.

Until the universe called for it once more.

Endgame

Penultimate chapter to the Starwars story.
Part 30
Enjoy

Endgame

Ozar was waiting for the right moment.

Turge’s blades were almost upon him and that was the right moment.

Losing his facility meant he lost a good chunk of power input but they had made a grave miscalculation. It was Ozar’s innate darkness that had created the facility and kept it going. He was the black heart and dark soul of that facility and, without it to siphon off his power; he had become a nexus of the Dark Side.

His sulphur eyes gazed at Turge and emitted hatred: pure, unfiltered hatred. The Dark Side powers flared as his gaze transmitted that hate and turned it into offensive power. Ozar gazed at Turge – and the mutant disintegrated. He became a puff of ash, like a piece of paper burning and its ashes left in a breeze.

Wraith and Pym remained stunned, as if frozen in time. It was the rarest of Dark powers called Deadly Sight. Whilst most Dark Side powers used anger as their source, Deadly Sight was the gaze of hatred.

The Sith turned his gaze at Pym. Wraith stepped in front of him, shielding the small Bimm from sight, and channelled his own Force powers. He could feel Ozar’s will power as his Deadly Sight willed his body gone. But Wraith countered with equal willpower and managed to remain intact.

“You are just like a plague,” spat Ozar. “You’re impossible to get rid of.” He ignited his lightsaber and a veil of darkness gathered around him. “Unless I cut you off at the source and annihilate you once and for all.”

The three clashed. Wraith and Ozar traded vicious blows, whilst Pym used his smaller frame to navigate is between them and leap. His shoto shot out like a blaster, stabbing into Ozar. The Sith’s veil of darkness blocked every strike.

Wraith retreated suddenly and unleashed a barrage of red lightning. Ozar dissipated the attack and ducked as Pym shot from out of nowhere and nearly beheaded him. He hovered in the air as gravity increased. The two warriors were soon on their knees, struggling to breathe.

‘It’s a Force power,’ said Wraith telepathically. ‘Absorb it.’

Pym was not a master of tutaminis, the art of absorption and redirection of the Force, but could perform it. They both redirected the gravity power back at Ozar: Wraith blasting him with lightning and Pym unleashing a blast of pure kinetic energy.

Darth Ozar was sent upwards and into the ceiling. Wraith Force pushed, keeping him in place. The Sith was disarmed and completely vulnerable. Pym leapt, ran up the wall and Force jumped. His orange shoto was inches away from killing the Sith.

All it took was a twitch of his fingers. Ozar telekinetically brought his weapon upwards, like a red arrow. It intercepted Pym’s leap and impaled the little furred Bimm. The force of the impact sent the now dead Jedi against the wall; nailing him into the stone like a grotesque ornament.

Ozar broke free of Wraith’s hold and retrieved his weapon. There was a silent look between them. Then the Sith brought the ceiling down and flew out of the hole he just created.

Wraith’s powers saved him from the falling debris. He glared at the hole where Ozar escaped through – no, not escaped: the Sith simply changed location.

His eyes wondered over Turge and Pym. Perhaps he should heal them. No, that was not the will of the Force. His destiny was to destroy Ozar and set the future for the rest of the galaxy. That was why he was enlightened in his jail cell all the time ago – it felt like years. He, as a person, may have changed, but his mission, his reason to live, had not.

He extended his senses and felt Elara’s Force signature. She was alive and that made him happy. If he fought Ozar away from here, she had a better chance of survival. It was a battle to the death between him and the Sith. If she interfered, she would be killed.

So he squeezed his lightsaber and allowed the Force to guide him again. He took a step and felt space shift around him.

He reappeared on the rooftop of the building. Darth Ozar stood at ease on the other side. He wore only his boots and billowing pants. Natural lightning illuminated the grey skies and his black Sith tattoos showed briefly under the flash of light. His red lightsaber hummed in anticipation at his side; the plasma blade pointed downwards.

Rain began falling; gently at first, then picking up the pace. Every drop hummed and hissed against the Sith lord and his weapon.

Wraith removed his cloak, revealing the sleeveless black tunic he wore beneath it. His lighsaber ignited twice, and a flame coloured plasma blade appeared on each end.

Both Force users stood there, starring at each other. Their Force signatures were at their fullest and loudest. There was no more need for secrets now- this was an all-out fight.

Their presence began pushing against one another before they even moved. It was like two opposing tidal waves crashing against each other. Then the fight began.

Red lightsaber met amber lightsaber in a flurry of blows. Wraith blocked an overhead strike and spun low. Ozar pushed with the Force, saving himself from impalement. He suffered a light scratch on the leg and Wraith was sent sprawling.

Wraith shot lightning and the moisture increased its power. Ozar deflected it. Wraith teleported to his flank and their weapons met again. Ozar’s free hand collected shadows and became a spike. Wraith unhinged the unused end of his lightsaber and parried the shadow blade. Ozar augmented his strength with the Force, driving Wraith down.

Wraith focused his power on the moisture and a tidal wave of water rose from behind Ozar. He turned in horror as Wraith slip from under him with a Force pull and saw the wave crash down on the Sith.

Ozar yelled in anger and his lightning arced towards Wraith. The latter dodged and Force pulled his leg from under him. Still holding the Force grip, Wraith rose to the skies, spun and slammed Ozar down on the roof ground. Ozar steadied himself and absorbed most of the impact.

Both of them now hung in the air clashing against each other. They were evenly matched and the storm raged more violently as they went in for the kill over and over again.

They smashed into a blade-lock again and Ozar drove them down. He straddled Wraith as both lighsabers hummed dangerously close to their faces. Shadow tendrils rose from Ozar and threatened to piece Wraith. He utilized a combination of powers: first the rendered himself intangible. At the same time he put up a barrier of light so that the Dark Side powers will not harm him. Lastly he Force pushed himself: upwards and into Ozar.

He phased through his enemy and materialized above Ozar’s back. In one swift motion he conjoined his weapon again and spun. Ozar’s red lightsaber parried his strike and shadows rose. Wraith broke off his weapon and defended himself using the Jar’kai technique called Rising Whirlwind, in combination with Shien and Soresu techniques.

The Force users clashed again. Ozar’s weapon arced in an overhead strike as Wraith’s paired weapons met it in a cross shape. They pushed against each other.

The ground shook beneath them and crumbled. Their Force powers reacted with each other and an anti-matter field was created around them. They ended up floating in midair. The more they struggled, the large the field grew. The roof began disintegrating as the sphere shaped field consumed every material thing.

From Ozar, shadows rose and engulfed him. His red lightsaber was shrouded in obsidian. From Wraith, light emerged and his twin amber lightsabers were bathed in light.

They let go of their weapons: this was a battle of wills. The lightsabers remained there, remotely controlled by their owners- they were mere extensions of their willpower.

As their weaopons floated above them, the two pushed with their palms extended. There was an invisible heavy force between them, the balance: it was a surge of destructive energy, and the key to win. If only he could do it, if only he could push through, Wraith would finally be at peace.

But his strength was failing. Even the Force within him began ebbing. He was reaching the last of his reserves. Perhaps this was how it had to end – mutual destruction.

He felt the Force answer his plea. Power siphoned through him as he felt himself become one with the Force. And in that blizzard of sensations, he got a glimpse of Ozar’s past and his destiny. He also felt Elara. She had gotten away long before the building had collapsed.

He saw the future he desperately fought for: the destruction as Order 66 would be issued. The fall of the Jedi. And then, one man, chosen by the Force to become the kindle of hope. He also saw the fearful Sith who renounces evil at the last moment to save his son. The fall of Sith and an era of peace.

And then, like a tiny black hole, he saw an anomaly. A world, perhaps even a different galaxy. The Unknown.

Then he saw them: the next generation. A Nautolan with a curved lightsaber smiling happily. A purple skinned Twi’lek, not unlike Elara’s blade. A skilled yet shy Zabrak mechanic and a brash female human pilot. An engineer who spends his time tinkering with mechanics. All of them Jedi and somehow connected.

But that was another time. Perhaps even another lifetime. Perhaps this was how the Force reassured him that the fruits of his labour will prosper.

He felt all their power, every living creature, who was to perish should Ozar exist, and he fought for them. This was why he fought – all this time, he thought it was the Force. But the Force was alive: life from these beings who desperately wanted to live.

And live they shall.

Blinding light exploded from Wraith as he pushed through. Ozar felt his power and wondered: just where can such strength be found? All this time he spent searching for power and now that he found it, he was to perish by it.

Light and power consumed the sky and Darth Ozar felt himself disintegrating. In one fell swoop he ceased to exist, all of his influence gone.

The light kept on expanding, travelling through the Force, to reach every corner of the universe, cleansing the Sith’s presence forever. Only one remained now, but he needed to be kept alive. Darth Sidious – the lynchpin of the future.

Then finally the light faded too and Wraith found himself face up on debris. He no longer had the strength to move or even fell the lightsabers pressing painfully against this back.

He felt nothing.

And in that nothing, he found total peace.

   

Battlecry

Part 29 of the Star wars story.
Enjoy.

Battlecry

They were back on Drummund Kaas, back in that eerie Citadel. This time their target was a skyscraper, illuminated like a firefly.

Wraith spent the journey there in deep meditation. he knew that Darth Ozar was a businessman on the planet, running the corporate world from above and the underground as a Sith. It was a great enterprise had it not been for Wraith and Elara destroying his facility. The Force showed Wraith where would be located. He constructed a plan based on that information.

Turge, armed to the teeth and cloaked in an oversized black tarpaulin, separated from the group and headed towards the front entrance. He knew what his duty was: wreak havoc and drive Ozar out of hiding. He was more than happy to do that - anything to destroy of Ozar's was a joy in his tiny mutated heart. He would destroy everything and finally Ozar himself.

He planted his feet at the front entrance and removed his cloak. His eggshell white body was covered in plate armour: he looked like the segmented body of a Krayt dragon. Then again he was going for intimidation.

He wore giant oversized gauntlets, going all the way up to his elbows. Two enormous barrels extended forwards from the underside of the gauntlets. Giant ammo packs were strapped to the mutant's back. He raised his weapon at the building's main entrance and smiled.

Revenge.

Wraith, Elara and Pym were waiting for the first signs of panic. They heard Turge's artillery blast off duracrete chunks and glass. There were screams, as citizens and workers rushed out of harm's way. Wraith's could feel the wrath of the mutant - he just wanted destruction. The initial assault was a massacre.

It was easy enough to infiltrate the building afterwards. Security rushed out towards Turge, leaving an open path for the time. They made their way towards the main conference room.

"There." The voice belonged to a security guard. Four droids aimed their blasters at them, but it was too late. The Force users made short work of the droids and the man.

"Run, run." The members of the conference room came spilling out and there was a momentary confusion as twenty or so businessmen of various species burst from the door.

They stayed their weapons until Wraith identified which one was Ozar. The Darth hid his presence very well. Wraith extended his powers and held the members of the conference in his grasp. slowly he begun to squeeze. One of them broke free and Ozar's Force signature spiked for a moment.

"That's him," said Wraith as he pushed aside the other members.

Ozar was dressed in a formal business suit and his weapon was not to be seen. He must have been at a disadvantage because he ran, using the Force to speed up his movements.

The trio gave chase after him.

Ozar ran and stripped out of his suit.

“Kra,” he yelled in his wrist comm. He could feel Wraith hot on his trail, maybe three seconds away.

He sprinted down the corridor and sensed his apprentice. She was a female Mirialan wore a black body suit and carried her lightsaber like a wand. In her other hand she held Ozar’s weapon, and threw it as him as he passed.

“There are three of them. Distract them until I am ready to face them,” he ordered her.

“Yes Master.”

The three ran after Ozar and felt a second Force signature. They leapt over a desk that came hurtling out of nowhere and dodged a Force blast.

A Mirialan female leapt into their vision, scything a double-bladed lightsaber at Wraith. He dodged and Elara kicked her in the chest, sending her flying.

“Go, get Ozar,” she said as she reached behind her. Her lightsaber pike extended and she ignited the purple blade. “I’ll take care of her.”

The two women eyed each other before trading a set of vicious blows. Elara could feel her opponent’s technique – it was deliberate and careful. The witch went in for a killing strike but Kra was too fast and disappeared in a blur. Elara whipped her weapons but missed again.

“I may be at the initial stages of my training, but my basic training is perfected,” said Kra as she augmented her speed and zigzagged from side to side like a fly.

Elara blocked a red blade to one side, then the other. Kra was using hit and run techniques. Her speed made it impossible for Elara to counter attack. All she could do was block and hold out. She studied the Sith apprentice – her strikes were direct albeit random. She had revealed that she was at the beginning of her training. Elara remembered Wraith explaining the seven forms of lightsaber combat to her – the first style learnt was Shii-Cho. It had basic strikes but also emphasized randomness. She recalled the advantages of the system: it was perfect for disarmament and multiple opponents. It relied on body position shifting so it did not make it ideal for a one-on-one fight. Kra’s Force speed however had removed that disadvantage.

The witch channelled her powers and two thin strands of flame shot out. She tried to pincer Kra’s movements – the blur that had been the Mirialan was now restricted to a space between the flames. Kra, however, became a blur once more and appeared under Elara’s arms – far beyond the reach of her spells or weapon. Elara could only block one strike before her pike was ripped out of her hands.

A second strike descended on her neck.

The witch caught the blade with her bare hands, absorbing the plasma energy of the Sith’s weapon. Kra remained stunned at this seemingly impressive feat.

Elara’s other hand grabbed the saberstaff’s handle. She channelled all that energy from the plasma blade, through her and into the hand holding the handle. The energy became intense fire and she literally melted the lightstaff’s handle.

The plasma blades disappeared as their power source was cut off and Kra dropped the burning handle. She was in too much pain to defend herself against Elara.

The witch accumulated all that energy she absorbed and thrust her palm out against Kra’s chest. The resulting Force blast not only sent Kra flying but left a wide gaping hole through her chest.

Ozar dodged a Force blast and spun into a corner. They were leading him towards the commotion. There was probably a task force waiting for him.

‘No,’ he thought. ‘They would not involve clones. The beast.’

That was it. The giant mutant, that genetic defect must be the one distracting security.

Darth Ozar smiled. He had a score to settle with that mutant.

Turge had spent his ammo packs and dropped them. The barrels too – he did not need the extra weight. He threw bombs wherever he could, creating even more destruction.

And then he smelled him.

Ozar came into view and Turge lost his mind. From his giant gauntlets a pair of thick, short and wide blades, shaped like triangular chisels, popped out. The vibro-cutters were usually used to cut stone and precious stones, but any lesser weapon would be useless with Turge’s bulk. With a vibro-blade on each forearm, he charged at Ozar.

“Die!”

From behind Ozar, Wraith felt Turge’s wrath and saw him leap with his vibro-blades extended.

But he also felt Ozar’s bloodlust and realized that the mutant would die if he confronted Ozar alone.

“No!” he yelled but it was too late. The beast had been unleashed.

Twisted Transistor

Part 28 of the Star Wars story.
Enjoy

Twisted Transistor

Once they recounted their story to the Jedi council, the Jedi fell silent and in meditation. No one had ever heard of Darth Ozar, or indeed of any of the other Sith. It was particularly worrisome that a Sith had managed to infiltrate the political world. Wraith insisted to train Turge. The mutant had regained most of his mental facilities but he was still far too fragile for any real use.

Elara stepped in, offering to help rebuild Turge’s mind. Meanwhile Wraith was tasked with the latest mission – an information mining assignment on Nar Shaddaa. Some time ago, the clones had discovered a small shipment of equipment and drugs to an undisclosed research facility on Drommund Kaas. It had not made sense then, and the Republic was too busy establishing on alliance on the Middle and Outer rims rather than waste resources chasing loose ends.

Now it was a different matter altogether.

Wraith boarded a ship with a certain Pym – a Jedi Knight furred Bimm who at first cowered from the menacing human. As time passed however, he began warming up to Wraith and went on and on. Wraith would have been just as comfortable in silence but the Bimm kept on talking. As he indulged Pym, Wraith found himself missing Elara more and more.

They rendezvoused in a quiet street, almost in a ghetto.

“I’m glad you could join us, Knight Pym,” said Kenobi from the forefront. Then he noticed Wraith, who walked out of the shadows and removed his hood. Kenobi’s face let out a momentary look of concern before resuming his poker face.

“And Wraith,” he continued, although it was more of a warning to the others than as a welcome. Three more Jedi turned to glare at him.

He had already met Skywalker and Ahsoka. The third Jedi was a very attractive Twi’lek with blue skin and a very revealing outfit.

She glared the most.

“Hi,” said Wraith as he waved weakly. No one said anything. Pym and Kenobi inched away. Skywalker remained stiff as a board whilst the Twi’lek’s eyes scanned him for weapons. Only one of his twin lightsabers was present on his hip: Wraith assassination training had taught him to hide the other in his sleeve, where he could surprise the enemy. Ahsoka’s fingers inched closer to her lightsaber. Wraith noticed she had a shoto of similar design to her main weapon and had changed her outfit.

“I like the new look,” he told her.

The female Twi’lek crossed her arms. “Is no one going to say it?” She looked around as Kenobi’s shoulders slumped.

“Say what?” said Wraith, partially in challenge.

“You’re Sith,” she spat.

Wraith rolled his eyes very deliberately. “Former Sith,” he insisted. “Why does no one ever listen to me?”

“I don’t trust you,” she snarled.

“I know.” He sighed and looked her dead in the eyes. “And I don’t care. I have a mission to finish. You can either comply and help out or get blasted. Your choice.”

“You’re not going anywhere Sith,” she snarled again. Her foot shifted into a fighting stance. The fifth form, judging by the way she braced herself with her dominant foot backwards.

Wraith allowed his power to emanate from him, creating a thick atmosphere. “I do not have to answer to you,” he said gently. “I am sorry for you, to have become such a violent little girl, but that is no reason to take out your petty anger issues on me.”

Her eyes visibly darkened – he would have laughed at how easy it was to mess with her head. Her hand snapped at her lightsaber.

“Go ahead,” challenged Wraith. “Try to attack me.”

The tension was hung in the air. The Jedi all inched into a fighting stance and Wraith knew he could potentially have to fight off five Jedi warriors.

“Let me make one thing clear,” said Wraith. All the diplomacy was gone from his voice. His power made the air thick and heavy, and the atmospheric pressure made their ears pop and made it hard to breathe.

“I am more powerful than all of you put together. I can cut you all down before you could ignite your weapons. So how about we all behave ourselves and avoid a massacre?”

Kenobi held his hands out. “Master Secura, please calm down. Wraith has already proven to be on our side.”

She relaxed an inch. “You make one wrong move and you’ll taste my sabre,” she threatened. Wraith smiled cockily.

“Let’s just get on with this,” said Skywalker.

“Agreed,” said Kenobi. “We will take different sides of this quadrant. We will be divided in teams.” He paused for a moment.

“I’m fine working alone,” said Wraith. “No one here trusts me enough and we would cover more ground as three units.”

“No,” replied Kenobi. “Jedi work as teams and this is a Jedi mission.”

“I’ll partner with him.” Pym squeezed in between Ahsoka and Aayla Secura and looked up at Wraith. “You have done nothing to make me question you yet. So I have no reason not to trust you,” he squeaked. Wraith couldn’t help but smile at his innocent philosophy.

“I’ll team up with you too,” said Kenobi.

“It’s settled then,” said Skywalker. “Me, Ahsoka and Master Secura will go to the eastern side. Master, Pym and Wraith; you guys take to docks to the west.”

It didn’t take them long to find the ship they were looking for – Wraith now had a ‘scent’ he could follow.

“Excuse me gentlemen.” Kenobi walked out and Pym accompanied him. Wraith pulled up his hood and obscured himself in the black cloak. The crew froze, the crate between them.

“Where is that shipment going?” asked Kenobi.

“Drommund Kaas. Some research facility,” replied harshly one of them. The others glared at the two Jedi and their traditional robes.

“Who owns the facility?”

“We don’t know.”

Wraith looked up. “I think you do. Is the name Ozar familiar?”

The crew members masked their faces with failed poker faces. “I dunno,” replied the leader again.

Wraith ignored him and Force gripped the crate. He crushed it and spilled its contents – a dozen vats of nutrition solutions and enhancement drugs.

“This is going to Darth Ozar’s mutant facility,” said Wraith. Their expressions darkened.

Kenobi held his lightsaber in hand. “You are all under arrest.”

A warning flashed in Wraith’s mind. “Watch out,” he called as he snapped his palm out. From his sleeve, his second lightsaber shot forward and spun. Wraith ignited it remotely and it spun.

From behind Kenobi, a bounty hunter hovered with his jet pack and a sniper blaster. The plasma blade shred through him and the lightsaber bounced back to Wraith’s awaiting hand. Both his lightsabers in hand, he turned back to the crew, who had armed themselves. Kenobi moved to the forefront and used his unique skills to deflect bolts of laser. Pym extracted his lightsaber, an orange coloured shoto, and leapt high in the air. His small blade pierced the second bounty hunter in the neck.

As they realized that they were going to be either killed or arrested, most of the crew ran.

“Let them go,” said Kenobi. “We’ve got what we were looking for.”

From a small office a human swaggered forward, like a bully. “What is the commotion, you idiots – oh shit.” He saw Wraith and began shivering.

“Y- you.” He channelled the Force and extracted a red lightsaber.

“Sith,” squeaked Pym.

“No,” replied Wraith. “Just an apprentice Dark Jedi. I’ll handle him.” He approached the Dark Jedi.

“Don’t come any closer, traitor,” yelled the darksider. He Force pushed a crate into Wraith. The latter kicked it away. The Dark Jedi was still a novice and weak. A good kick was all it took to break his Force powers. He couldn’t even hold his lightsabers in a proper stance. Wraith’s lightsabers spun. Once sliced through the lightsaber hilt and the other through his hand. Before pain even registered in the Dark Jedi, Wraith spun and connected his weapons. He gave his back to the enemy and thrust his weapon backwards, impaling the man. With a spin he beheaded the Dark Jedi.

Wraith gazed at the two stunned Jedi, challenging either to say something. They put away their weapons but their dark looks spoke for themselves: that was overkill, the kind of actions their associated with Sith.

“Hey look at this,” Kenobi was fiddling with a communications grid.

“The bounty hunters are all mercenaries. All the crew were too. They sent a distress message to their HQ. Right where Anakin and his team went.”

“It’s a trap,” said Pym.

“We need to get there quick,” said Kenobi urgently. He looked around. “We’ll never get there in time with speeders.”

“Allow me,” said Wraith. He grabbed a crew member who was moaning in pain and began healing him. As the man sighed in relief, Wraith infiltrated his mind, extracting memories of the Head Quarters building. Then he knocked him out mentally.

“I got the image,” he told the two Jedi. “I can teleport you there.”

The three Jedi were in trouble. The mercenaries, all wearing full Mandalorian bounty hunter armour surrounded them.

“Ozar will be pleased with three Jedi slaves,” said their leader: a bulky man with horns on his helmet. His dark red armour, as opposed to his subordinates’ black, was studded with spines and spikes.

Suddenly two Jedi, Kenobi and Pym, appeared out of nowhere, and on two mercs. The skirmish resumed.

“Surrender now you Jedi scum-” The leader’s head was literally ripped off his neck. His jet pack went out of control, and his headless corpse crashed against the wall before sliding down in a puddle of blood.

Wraith appeared, telekinetically holding the severed head before throwing it away. He disappeared again.

There was only a flash of amber: Wraith’s lightsabers flashed like lightning as he single-handedly felled the mercenaries. One of them threw down his weapon and flew away screaming for mercy.

Wraith Force crushed his jet pack and threw it away. As the man crawled away, wraith telekinetically ripped away bits of his armour. The man turned to face Wraith and crawled away from him.

“Mercy,” he screamed. But Wraith offered none. This man did not deserve mercy – none of them did. He crushed the neck and twisted his head, killing him instantly.

“What are you doing?” Secura’s scream echoed throughout the warehouse. Her blue lightsaber was now pointed at Wraith. “He was pleading mercy. This is a massacre, not a battle.” She looked at Kenobi. “This is Sith work.”

Wraith held his lightsabers at the ready. “I’ve already made this clear: I am neither Sith nor Jedi. You did not see the waves of mutants assault the Jedi Temple. You did not feel the pain and despair of thousands of souls being tormented. Don’t you dare judge me, back off, little girl.”

And that was the trigger. Secura lunged forwards, mercilessly hitting Wraith. He spun and countered. Skywalker and Ahsoka joined in, pushing Wraith back. He conjoined his weapons and attached back. All three of them used the same style, albeit different variants. They were no match for his vicious counterattacks. Kenobi blocked his strike and forced Wraith to switch tactics. Pym spun like a buzzsaw and Wraith found himself surrounded.

He was keeping up with them but they could get the upper hand at any time.

“I’ve already told you,” he said as he kicked Kenobi in the face and smashed the handle of his weapon into Skywalker’s nose. “You can’t beat me.” He Force gripped Ahsoka and threw her into Pym. He blocked Aayla’s strike and elbowed her in the face. With an enhanced leap he flew from the centre and shot Force lightning. Red bolts surrounded the five Jedi, weakening them.

Ahsoka and Pym fell first, followed closely by Secura. Kenobi joined soon after. Only Skywalker resisted. He screamed in pain but for the briefest of moments, touched the Dark Side and resisted Wraith’s lightning.

Wraith stopped his lightning. “You’re not powerful enough to defeat me.”

He teleported behind the weakened Jedi and whipped his fist into his Temple. Anakin fell, face forwards.

“Yet.”

Wraith had already caught a glimpse of Skywalker’s terrible future and for the second time considered killing him and eliminating all that future suffering.

No; the future needed the darkness within Skywalker. Through it, there would be peace and hope again.

Wraith held all five Jedi immobile with the Force and healed them. They yelled and fought back but it was all in vain. Only once they had sworn on their honour as Jedi not to attack him again did he relinquished his grip on them.

Then they proceeded to call the authorities and process the data banks of HQ. There was a lot of information but only one bit interested Wraith.

He finally knew where his enemy was.