Halcyon sneered as he ducked beneath the Jedi's saber. The alien was of unfamiliar race to him, but his training was transparent. The creature was barely a knight. It seemed fearless, though, he had to give it that.

The Force reached him, whispered in his ears. He turned slightly, watching his foe's saber slice the air widely. His emerald eyes fell on his prey briefly. Droids? The Jedi were using droids now?

No.

He had heard that the Jedi had a few Iron Knights among them, their crystal hearts fueling their bodies. Rumor said that Muz had killed one of them for the heart of one of his lightsabers. Halc wouldn't have asked to see it for himself. Muz was guarded against him, knowing full well the lessons history told about how Sith treated their masters.

The sound of another lightsaber igniting was familiar and expected. What Halcyon found puzzling was the familiarity of presence that came with it. No time left to waste, he disposed of the Jedi, the green of his saber drawing a line of ruin across the alien, turning to face the new enemy.

It wasn't one of the Iron Knights. It was just an old battle droid. The mechanical arm held a blaster before another lightsaber cleft it from the rest of its body.

"Come here often, good-looking?" The man said with a wink and a smile. The simple and somewhat tailored black combat uniform meshed with the sloppy but closely trimmed hair atop the Taldrya's head.

Halcyon nodded in recognition. "Good to see you, Shad." He turned back to the fallen droid, analytic eyes dissecting the tactics. Outnumbered and outgunned, of course the Jedi would have sought to increase their chances any way that they could. The swarm of Mandolorians were proof enough of that. Whether the Jedi bought or built these droids were irrelevant, but curious. The droids could have come with his brother, purchased through ties the man made while on the Dark Council.

It did not matter.

They would all lay in the same heap.

---

**Odan Urr Bunker

Undisclosed Location

New Tython**

Michael Haclyon watched the tactical display, the tracking icons showing movement of the Mercenaries, the droids, the few Jedi that Jonuss and Ji couldn't persuade to lay low. Michael scratched his head, idly imagining the kind of devastation that would have been suffered if he hadn't arrived when he did. The reports from orbit still showed a vibrant battle in space, heavy hits suffered by both sides, but something bothered him.

The Council hadn't arrived yet.

His time on the ruling chamber of the Brotherhood had taught him that the Council's fleet was powerful, keeping many of the best material for themselves. It was a necessity, so that they could keep the individual clans in check. But the truth of the matter was that they hadn't joined this battle yet, the biggest threats hadn't arrived.

There was still another card to play.

He pressed the button on the commlink, waiting for the old human to respond. Age was there, but there was a sharpness behind his eyes. Long greying hair tied back into a queue, the Jedi Master peered into him in ways that discomforted him even through the light years spanned by the comm.

"My Lord..." Michael spoke as humbly as he could manage. He needed him, and the man would know it. "...your apprentice has gone too far. Now is the time to redeem him, old friend."

The Jedi was cut from an older cloth. Built from equal shares steel and fire, he was a far cry from those that he had contact with on Yavin. A moment passed.

"I have my own ways for that."

Michael leaned forward. "The time is ripe, Eojin. Join us in cleansing the Force of their presence."

---

**Undisclosed rally point

The Fallen Spear**

"Sire, the fleet stands by. Preparing to jump at your mark." Shin'ichi's metallic voice didn't have an echo on the bridge.

The Dark Lord stood in front of the viewscreen, sable eyes crossing over the fleet that lay in front of them. He motioned for Blackwind to open a commlink to the fleet.

Lord Firefox might have explained what was to happen next.

Jac Cotelin might have had a rousing speech.

Darth Sarin might have relayed orders for engagement.

Muz only had one word.

"Mark."

The fleet screamed into the stars within moments. It was a short jump, and they came out of the grey of hyperspace into a battle. CHaos would have encumbered their hearts, were they not calmed by the Battle meditation of hidden masters.

Muz opened the inbuilt commlink on his prostetic arm, opening a channel to several of his Councilors. "Shikyo, Korras, find their captain. Taigikori, get your revenge. I'm after an old friend."

Muz turned back to the viewscreen, his ship standing on the edge of combat, uncloaked, waiting. He watched the ships tear each other apart, his hands resting idly on his lightsaber hilts. Fremoc stepped back away from him, turning to leave the bridge, making his way down to the docking bay. There was more to this plan than he thought. He turned back to the bridge before the doors closed, the Dark Lord speaking to the space beyond the viewscreen.

"Come on. You never could resist."

---

New Tython Surface

Taigikori left a trail of death from his shuttle, his saber carving through anything not wearing a brotherhood insignia. Something trickled across the back of his skull, teasing the ancient reptile part of his brain. It was beyond the Force.

It was rage.

An errant blasterbolt struck him in the jaw, ricocheting off at an awkward angle. He refused to let himself be moved, letting the fire burn through his senses.

It was him.

"Liu." If the man hadn't destroyed his face and taken his teeth, Taigikori would have bared them.

"Aybara." He raised his saber in a mockery of a respectful salute.

The headmaster made no noise, letting the energized howl of his lightsaber scream for him as he threw himself with perfect rage at the anachronisic Jedi.

---

Korras and Shikyo moved in tandem, their blades clearing the field. The ease with which their blades rent the famed mandalorian armor pleased Korras, knowing full well the legendary status the mercenary craft held among the journeymen in the Brotherhood. It may have been effective against the sabers of the ancients long ago, but they barely slowed them down now. Metallurgy and sabercraft had given the Brotherhood all the advantages here., and Korras would sleep well knowing that the skill of the Obelisk helped assure that.

The heavy footfalls of a rancor pounded behind them, the wet snap of bones and armor crushed beneath huge teeth marking when it was directed to feed. Shikyo glanced over his shoulder quickly, eyes falling upon his brother's wife, riding atop the beast with full nightsister paint. How she managed to get the beast to ignore the Dark Jedi all around them was beyond him.

Shikyo watched a Mando jet toward him, a plume of fire behind him. He flipped his wrist quickly, the crimson of his weapon taking a helmet from shoulders, the rest of the body spiralling out and careening into what might have been a tree last month.

"Was that the captain?"

Korras sneered, setting back into a defensive stance as another fired at him. He angled his blade carfully, directing the blaster bolts back at the handprint-marked armor that fired at him until he fell. "I have no idea."

Shikyo let a smile creep across his face. "I guess we'll just have to kill them all, then."

The screech of atmosphere drew his attention upward, a glare of sunlight making him squint as he saw the ship pierce the veil of New Tython's orbit. It was a moment before he recognized the ships markings. It was another before the gravity of it set in.

"Frell."