On Nancora, the twin cities of Faron and Axio are connected via a single rail system. This direct line between them consists of staggered transit stations that provide a means of access to the badlands and the resources buried within them. Axio Transit Station Cresh is one such stop for the trams. Named as such due to its closer proximity to Axio than Faron, Station Cresh maintains the same design as all the other stations along the route.

The rail system itself spans four lines wide, double stacked to allow for maximum flow of transit. This results in eight active trams at any one time. Each side moves in the opposite direction of the other, meaning the fast moving trams could come rushing through at any time from either Faron, Axio, or both. The station itself consists of lifts and walkways leading to the surface far beneath the platform. The main buildings present offer up supply stalls serving food, beverages, and equipment, sold at a premium to account for their necessity in the Badlands. What remains is a small security presence as the Technocratic Guild has an armed garrison at each of their stations.

As a major supply route between the cities, the transit stations see a lot of traffic no matter the time. Station Cresh is one of the busiest, often seeing materials arriving from the lifts and being loaded onto the trams. The seeming small scale of the station can lend one to underestimating it, but its importance means any disruption will be dealt with swiftly.

Morax crossed his legs as he eyed the Hunter sitting further down to his left, unable to comprehend how such a muscled and toned Human could keep this stature of athletic looks from a love of electronics. Turning his gaze away from Jinius Griffin, Morax let out an inaudible sigh.

This is supposed to be an Apprentice to Marcus Kiriyu? He thought to himself as he mulled over the latest facts.

As far as the Seer knew, Marcus had been slain. The Anzat was partly to blame for that. He had seen Marcus dead on the floor, struck down by the Iktotchi warrior Morax had captured and tortured for weeks, trying to extract his secrets to give them an edge over the Dominion. The possibility of his old friend still being alive was something the Seer was struggling to come to grasps with. When information had leaked down that Marcus was in fact alive and even had an Apprentice, Morax jumped on the situation and set out to investigate. This had led him to Jinius, but he was unsure if this was a joke or not.

Looking over at the Dakhani, the Seer noticed the robes Jinius was wearing were of the Shadow Academy. The crystal pauldrons were held together by a chain across the chest area with a hood slumped back behind the head. The robes looked well taken care of with medium wear to it. From the size of the robes Morax guessed that Jinius was taller and heavier than him. Something to watch out for should things escalate.

“Next stop, Station Cresh. Please wait until the doors open before exiting the tram. Thank you for traveling with Axio Transit,” the speakers blared out in Basic.

The Seer watched as Jinius stood up, patted down his robes to smooth out the creases, and took his place before the doors, waiting patiently until they opened to let him out. Morax took place behind him. As the doors opened and the Hunter walked out, Morax was assaulted by a barrage of odors which disoriented him at first. The aromas of food, drinks and traces of mechanical parts overwhelmed him as he struggled to clear his head and follow the Dakhani. As the Seer looked around he realized he had lost track of the Hunter. Cursing slightly, the Anzat began to walk away from the train.

As he turned he noticed a flash of hands, and before he realized it, he was on the ground. The face of Jinius peering down on him from the back of a cowl. Two brown eyes, with oddly patterned flecks of green and amber mixed in them, gazed down upon Morax. Flecks of spittle could be seen stuck in the Hunters beard, some of it coming perilously close to dripping down onto the Anzat. The crowd around them dispersing in an instant, shouts of fear and confusion as people tried to put as much distance between them and two combatants.

“You’ve been trailing me for some time now and I don’t like being followed. State your name and business, or so help me, I will end your miserable life right here and now,” the Human spoke the words lazily, as if the Seer were no threat to his existence.

Anger welled up inside the Anzat, being caught off guard and humiliated by a lowly Journeymen had insulted his pride. The disgust of almost being subjected to Human spit on his own clothes drove the Seer to propel Jinius off of him. Although his opponent was heavier, it took little effort to throw off the assailant and get back on his feet in the blink of an eye. A look of surprise flashed across the young Humans face, before recognition set in and he realized that Morax was no mere street thug or hired mercenary.

“My name is Morax Darkblade, former Quaestor of House Shar Dakhan. I know you are the Apprentice to Marcus Kiriyu. I would like to know where your Master is,” Morax stated flatly as he reached for his lightsaber. Widening his stance, standing perpendicular to Jinius, Morax ignited his lightsaber and held it firmly, his right hand on top holding the hilt of the blade with his left hand holding the pommel, his fingers wrapped around in a fixed but firm position. Raising the silver lightsaber over his head and waiting for the Hunter to make his move.

Great. Good Job, Jin, Jinius thought as he took in the entirety of his opponent. His master had been encouraging him to work on his forms in anticipation of his ascension to Knight – Jinius doubted that picking on someone outside the combat hall had been what Master Kiriyu had been thinking. Jinius had let his instincts get the best of him. Years investigating and interrogating strangers to hunt down the leftover Imperial dissidents in the Republic had given Jinius a natural paranoia. This time the paranoia had backfired.

The Anzat who stood before Jinius was a sight. His eyes held a hungry, almost feral, expression that bled onto his pallor skin. Jinius couldn’t help but sense a well of strength in the man despite his diminutive size. Adding to the ferocity of the man’s gaze was the silver-hued lightsaber that hummed ominously in the man’s hands.

Jinius took a cautious step back plucking his lightsaber from his hip. The distinctive roar of a lit lightsaber echoed through the confined halls of the station as an energetic blue light fell upon Jinius’ focused features, casting broken shadows along the durasteel platform. Shouts echoed distantly as security officers thundered their way across the station. Their words did not do much to break up the tense, charged silence between the two dark jedi.

“A former Quaestor,” Jinius said simply as he began to step slowly, carefully to his right. His opponent matched him. “Tell me former Quaster of Shar Dakhan, Morax Darkblade, if you are a fraction of what you claim to be, why don’t you know where to find Master Kiriyu?” Jinius shifted his grip, one hand above the other on his saber; it was all he knew.

The two men moved in a circle, the dance of jackals, as each stalked their prey. Each step was precise and deliberate – one misstep and the other would strike.

“Where is Marcus Kiriyu?” Darkblade demanded in his level, almost casual, tone. Without changing his posture or gait, the Seer gave the impression that noncompliance with his demand would mean consequences. Severe consequences.

Jinius sucked in a breath to begin his reply. He was hit by a wave of raw anger that overwhelmed his senses. The Force cried out to Jinius. Fear overtook him, and he stumbled back from the oppressive, black anger that washed off the Seer. It had caught him off guard – he wasn’t used to so much violence contained in one soul, such casual and lucid hate. Jinius knew the instant his foot landed wrong, he’d regret the mistake.

Darkblade struck first. He closed the distance between them with viper-like grace and lashed out with a fierce, downward strike from his silvery blade.

Jinius brought his lightsaber up at the last second, a mere moment before his opponent's blade would have sliced into him and caught the Seer’s blade. A deafening crash echoed through the station causing several of the nearby observers to jump back.

The sounds of the shouting guards, who were likely close, had dulled to a quiet, distant whisper as Jinius focused in on his duel. The encounter had gone from bad to beyond horrible in the breath of a moment. His only hope of winning was focus. The former Quaestor would likely have him bested in technique, skill, and form. Jinius had to hold out for his moment.

Darkblade followed up his attack with a series of careful, efficient strikes each being blocked or parried by Jinius, though with each blow the stark contrast in their skill became clearer. The Hunter was outmatched. Morax seized his opportunity and locked blades with the Hunter. The short break in action the blade lock gave was enough for the Seer to focus inwardly for a single breath. Darkblade squared his footing and gave the larger Hunter a heavy, augmented shove freeing up space between them.

“You should have told me where Marcus was, child. Now you’ll fall as he once did!” Darkblade raised his hand.

Jinius could see the Seer’s fingers crooked in wicked angles. He sensed what was coming and focused inward, feeling the air, feeling the crowd.

Dark purple tendrils of jagged lightning flicked from the Seer’s pale fingers. The air became a storm of electricity as the filaments of purple coursed through the air seeking their target.

A shimmering blue wall of light flowed upward coming into existence between the two dark jedi. The acrid smell of ozone filled the air around Jinius as the lightning slammed into his barrier. A bright flash of violet light erupted from the barrier’s edge shattering it and sending Jinius flying from the subsequent concussion of energy. He crashed into several bystanders, knocking them over.

Before Jinius could rise, Darkblade was on him.

With a mighty primal roar of pure anger, Morax thundered across the slight distance between them. Civilians that had come to the aid of Jinius scattered at the sound and sight of such furious monstrosity bearing down on them. Unable to comprehend what was going on, even the security officers were unsure how to deal with the situation. Frantically calling for backup and concerned with keeping the civilians from getting hurt, they formed a very large circle around the two Jedi.

Darkblade reached Jinius and smiled cruelly down on the insignificant pathetic lifeform beneath him.

“Too easy. I never intended to fight you, I only wanted to know where your Master is. If you hadn’t attacked me we would have been able to resolve this...peacefully. However, I applaud your initiative and as a reward for your efforts, I will show you the true power I hold,” Darkblade said as he focused on spreading a disease in the Force around him.

The effect was immediately noticeable to Jinius, who felt as if the Force had ebbed from his side. Where once the Force had been a calm swirling ocean around him from which he could reach into and draw its powers from, now it seemed as if that well of power was dry and merely a trickling stream than an ocean of power it usually represented. To Jinius it seemed tainted, sickly, and hard to reach out to. The ubiety of the Force was faint, and his attempts to call out to it were met with fleeting whispers of the Force.

Panic began to grip the Hunter. He had read about this but never thought it really existed. A Dark Jedi powerful enough to corrupt the Force around them and cause it to retreat from a user for a short period of time. It would take immense effort and will for Jinius to claim the power of the Force to aid him now. However, he noticed that using such powers was taking a heavy toll on the Anza as beads of perspiration slowly formed across the face of Darkblade as he maintained his concentration.

What happened next to the Hunter can only be described as pure dismay. He felt his mind unravel, layer by layer giving up its secrets. It was as if a sharp needle was poking and separating his mind like it were paper. As easily as Jinius could sift through old dusty tombs in search of their secrets, his mind was on display for the Anzat. No longer was the Dakhani’s mind an enigma to Darkblade, it splayed all it's mysteries to him now.

Struggling to keep him out, the Human fought back as best he could, steeling his resolve and trying not to think about Marcus Kiriyu, hoping to buy time for… whatever he could plan next. As the contest of wills went on, both grew weaker. Jinius in his resolve, Darkblade in his power. The exertion of keeping the young Hunter from having easy access to the Force was taking its toll on the Anzat.

Finally, it stopped. Jinius could feel the Force rushing back around him, comforting him and nourishing his depleted resolve. The only thing to give him comfort after what had just happened to him. The Journeymen looked up at the Seer, fear in his eyes as he wondered if he had given up the whereabouts of his Master. Unsure how much he had been able to take away from him.

Darkblade stretched himself nonchalantly, his arms horizontal then moving upwards over his head. Standing on his toes and ending his stretch, he looked down and smacked his lips.

“I got what I needed, now I'm not sure what to do with you though. I am pretty hungry,” he said as his tone turned malicious. “Eating you though would probably make Marcus angry with me. No. I have a much better idea,” he continued as he walked in brisk circles and stopped suddenly. Turning towards Jinius, the Equite raised his hand towards him.

Fearing the worst, survival instincts taking over, a final desperate attempt launched by the Hunter saw him leap up to his feat and call the Force to him, reaching out with his right hand, his lightsaber leapt into his hand and ignited. With a fierce yell, more to calm his nerves than to frighten the figure before him, he lashed out in front of him wildly, the Force surging through his arm to hasten the speed of the strike.

A screech of pain met Jinius’ ears as he saw his blade slice through the extended arm that was pointing at him. It was still pointing at him as it bounced onto the ground in front of him. A sickly thud reverberated up to him as he watched in fascination and awe at how easy it had been to dismember his opponent. Revitalized by the turn of events, the Hunter continued his assault and stepped forward. As he poised for another strike, a familiar voice broke through the crowd of shrieking civilians and protesting cops.

“Jinius, that is enough. No need to continue, clearly you can see that your opponent is beaten,” Marcus Kiriyu said as he entered the ring. Jinius hastily extinguished his lightsaber and clipped it back onto his belt. Reaching down for the arm on the ground, he hoisted it up and returned it the Anzat who gave him a surprised look as the shock began to settle.

“Lets take my old friend back to medbay, maybe we can save that arm of his,” Marcus chuckled as he turned towards the crowd which melted before him almost immediately to allow them through. The Hunter felt relieved that the situation hadnt ended in his death, and quickly helped the Anzat through the crowd to get him to med bay as soon as possible.

“You did well Jinius Griffin. I was watching from afar and am very pleased with how you handled the situation. Well done my Apprentice!” Marcus stated as they walked away from the crowd. Jinius couldn't help but feel pride as he had pleased his Master and defeated a powerful opponent, all in a single day.

As Darkblade’s lightsaber came down, Jinius quickly threw himself to the side. The silver blade cut deep into the durasteel floor leaving a jagged, blackened furrow in the metal floor. The Seer had driven his blade into the ground nearly to its hilt. Jinius seized his opportunity and punched the Anzat in the side while throwing himself into a roll. A quiet crack sounded as Jinius’ fist pressed hard into the Anzat’s ribs. Unfortunately, the sound didn’t come from Darkblade. It came from Jinius.

Searing, brutal pain pulsed through Jinius’ hand. When he came to a stop a couple of meters away, Jinius tried to move his fingers. Several wouldn’t move. His hand was broken. He tried focusing his eyes, but his vision was blurry, marred by the tears welling up from the pain. Pain throbbed through his hand like vicious spikes being driven into the back of his fingers. Jinius started to stand, his vision darkened, his body reacting to the pain. Shock was beginning to set in. Jinius stumbled back to sitting. At least he didn’t fall face first. He sucked in a deep breath, seeking the resolve and the control that hid beneath the surface – the energy of life – the Force. The silver blade of the Anzat flashed through the air, swinging in a long, horizontal arc. Jinius fell back onto his rear, feeling the heat of the blade pass just centimeters from his face. The Anzat’s attack was reckless; it continued through the empty air, driven by the raw fury of the Anzat, completely missing Jinius and slicing into one of the bystanders. A young woman. The silver blade sheared into the woman’s torso nearly cleaving her in two. She fell back to lie motionless on the ground to the chorus of shocked gasps around her.

Once again pain exploded through Jinius. This time it wasn’t his hand. The raw, unfiltered emotion of an innocent life being cut down right next to him mixing with the torment of emotions, the fears of the crowd - it all crashed into him at once. Jinius fell back, the agony blinding him. He couldn’t handle it. It was all too much. He fell into a heap amongst the crying patrons of the station.

The attack had taken Darkblade off course. He was now several meters away from the quiet, yet still alive Jinius. The attack hadn’t connected. The Hunter still lived. Darkblade could sense the calamity of the young man’s thoughts. In a slow, shuffling step Darkblade began to walk up the young Hunter. The fury that burned only moments before had quieted. It had been replaced by something else. Humans might find pity in their hearts upon seeing a young man wracked with so much torment. They would resolve to be better men to embrace their humanity and spare a life. Not Darkblade. Lucky for him, he wasn’t human. Pity was a distant, atrophied feeling. Instead, disgust pooled in the Seer’s mind. How useless this boy would be to a brotherhood already plagued by conflict. Such a formless and unshaped soul the young man was. Marcus was to blame for that. He should train his wards better. Jinius couldn’t be depended on. He couldn’t be relied upon. He was useless. Hunter Jinius Lu’Kar Griffin, apprentice to Marcus Kiriyu, was not a prize, not a victorious conquest in a lifetime of destruction and battle. He wasn’t even a challenge. He was a millstone tied around the neck of a lost Brotherhood. It all make Darkblade sick. This would all be for the better.

“You’re pathetic, Hunter!” the Seer growled, throwing spittle through the air in a cloud.

You are a leaf caught in the wind, Jinius thought. Lucidity played in his mind trying to push back the darkening void that pressed in.

“What would ever compel Marcus to take you, a worthless ape, as an apprentice?” Darkblade continued. He walked closer to the young hunter. Jinius still didn’t move.

You are the breeze tearing through a quiet sky. More thoughts flowed in, lacing Jinius’ mind with light.

“You are hardly worth the effort it takes to kill you.” Darkblade raised his saber.

You are the sky, the silent watcher over the land below. Consciousness was forming. It was almost corporeal in his mind.

The roar of a train coming into station filled the air. The heavy, thundering footsteps of guards sounded on the durasteel floors.

You are the land, the origin of life. Resolve followed. It was a surge of reason and expectation. “Hold it right there!” the gritty voice of one of the guards sounded. It was followed close by the sound of blasters being raised. Darkblade grinned.

You are life. Bride of the force and mistress to the cosmos. Pulsing awareness filled Jinius’ senses.

Darkblade thrust a hand out to the side aiming at the nearest guard. Deep purple lines of electricity erupted from the Seer’s fingertips. A raw, agonized scream exploded from the guard’s lips as he fell dead to the ground with a meaty thud. Darkblade turned to the next guard and waved his hand, drawing a circle with his fingers. Immediately another guard turned and fired his blaster into the two remaining guards. Darkblade sent another rush of lightning into the final guard. He dropped like a stone.

I am one with the Force. The well of power surged into Jinius’ very soul.

As the last guard fell, Darkblade turned his attention to the motionless Jinius. He sneered, “I’m doing Clan Naga Sadow a service. In fact, I won’t even feed. I don’t want to taint myself with whatever it is that makes you so weak.”

“The Force is with me!”

Jinius threw his arms outward sending a booming, concussive blast of telekinetic energy. It dispersed rapidly kicking up dust and knocking a few nearby people down. Darkblade threw his arms up to shield his eyes. Jinius slid back several feet riding the push before falling onto the train tracks.

When Darkblade brought his hands down another wave of air hit him as a train floated into station. Trains moved so elegantly, riding a few centimeters off their tracks propelled by unseen forces. A few moments later the doors flew open and a torrent of people began flowing out of the train. No one flowed in.

Darkblade walked to the edge of the platform peering down onto the tracks. They were barely visible through a gap between the train and the station. Jinius wasn’t there. He wasn’t dead though; Darkblade could still sense the hunter nearby. He was hiding. The coward would hide. The train started to move out of port. For the second after the train left station, the air was still. It was quiet, as if the room was expectant. The feeling of tension permeated the room, a thick cloud of urgency just waiting to be released. The young Hunter was close. Very close.

Darkblade spun on his heels coming about in an instant. He was face-to-face with Jinius. With a small, skilled motion, Darkblade spun his lightsaber. A distinct pop emanated from Jinius’ lightsaber as its blue glow faded. A moment later the clink of steel against steel echoed from his feet.

Jinius looked down at his lightsaber. It sparked and emitted a glowing pastel, blue light from where the top of his lightsaber had once been. The Seer had cut the top of Jinius’ blade off. It was over. Jinius had nothing to fight back with. He braced himself hoping he could throw another punch before the Seer was on him.

“I changed my mind,” Darkblade hissed. He threw a hand up in Jinius’ face. Jinius flinched. It was too late.

Jinius’ mind fogged and raced all at once. He was confused yet aware. He felt joy, pity, love, hate, sorrow, guilt, and quiet, calming, beautiful peace. He blinked, coming out of his daze. The lights of the room were blinding, distracting. Had they always been that bright? Darkblade’s hands were on his collar. Jinius felt calm. He also felt slow, almost sickly. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. If only he could get past the soothing quiet around him, a dulling field of relaxing, calming…

Oh God! Jinius' mind found a moment of clarity. He tried to brace himself. How does one brace oneself for this?

Two thin, whip-like tentacles slid from cheek pockets on Darkblade’s face. They were tipped with unusual bulbs on the ends and were the same pale color of the Anzat’s skin. They reached out to Jinius as everything went dark.