Episode 8.3 - Betrayer

Stardate: 41173.0

Earth Standard Date: March 04, 2364.

Galactic Date: 23rd Day of the Second Month, 3956 BBY

Location: Barracks of the Leviathan, In Orbit of Taris

The hard bunk of the Sith barracks dug into his back, the thin mattress provided little comfort or padding against the unforgiving metal slab. As Tyson's eyes fluttered open and consciousness returned, he sighed, wondering how his new status as Darth Malak's latest acolyte hadn't earned him private quarters. He swung his legs over the side of the bunk and stood, stretching to work the kinks out of his muscles. He stepped from the barracks out into the hall, the door hissing closed behind him. Immediately he reached for his Access Key, retreating into his Personal Reality.

His first stop was the Housing Complex where he grabbed a quick meal. As soon as the last bite was swallowed, he was up and moving again. As he entered the Warehouse, his gaze fell upon the simple table just inside the door. The massive space could have housed a football field, yet Tyson had filled it with only a handful of trinkets so far. Resting atop the table were Vicky's items. The Jumper's Master Key, Armored Robes, and Scaling Cloak. They had respawned here after being absorbed by her nanobots.

Tyson reached out, hesitating for a moment before his fingertips made contact with the Jumper's Master Key.

The Gray Goo Suit responded instantly to his proximity to the items and intent. Tendrils of nanomachines emerged from his hands, slithering over the Key like quicksilver. The metal seemed to melt away, absorbed into the suit and assimilated by the advanced technology that encased Tyson's body.

Next, he turned his attention to the Armored Robes. The heavy fabric was rich with cortosis plating, designed to protect the wearer from energy weapons. As the nanites of the Gray Goo Suit made contact, they began meticulously deconstructing the robes. Tyson could feel the suit adapting and evolving as it incorporated this new ability into its matrix. With the addition of cortosis, the suit now contained two of the best materials for defending against lightsabers and blasters; beskar and cortosis.

Finally, he picked up the shimmering orb of the Scaling Cloak. It was no bigger than a baseball, belying the incredible power it contained. The suit's nanites danced across its surface, mapping its contours and analyzing its exotic properties. Then the cloak dissolved into his suit, assimilated by the advanced technology that protected Tyson from harm.

As the last traces of the items disappeared into the Gray Goo Suit, Tyson could sense the changes taking place. The suit seamlessly integrated the new items' properties, adapting them to its systems.

Tyson turned with a satisfied nod, his mind already racing ahead to the Medical Bay. As the doors hissed open, he stepped inside. The spacious bay resembled the Enterprise's sickbay, but instead of a few biobeds, rows upon rows stood before him, each occupied by an unconscious Vulcan. The gentle beeps of the monitoring equipment were the only sounds breaking the heavy silence.

Approaching the nearest biobed, Tyson scanned the readouts hovering over the Vulcan's head. Their vitals indicated they would soon wake, nearly recovered from the Trellium-D poisoning.

One more day of recovery and they would be healed.

Tyson's gaze swept over the room, taking in the sheer number. One hundred and forty-seven Vulcans in total. He had prepared his Personal Reality to accommodate them, but only time would tell if it was sufficient.

As he contemplated his next steps, his eyes fell upon the array of medical tools lining each biobed; hyposprays, dermal regenerators, and other advanced devices. Reaching out, Tyson grabbed a hypospray loaded with Axonol, a fast-acting sedative, allowing his Gray Goo Suit to store it for easy access later.

Tyson let his gaze sweep over the rows of biobeds one last time, taking in the sleeping forms of the Vulcans before him. Their chests rose and fell in the steady rhythm of deep sedation as they recovered.

With his plans in mind, Tyson turned and strode back to the antechamber. He paused before the doorway, activating his Scaling Cloak, feeling the tingle spread across his skin as the cloak interfaced with his Energy Shield to render him invisible. No indication of his presence would escape the Energy Shield now.

Tyson opened the doorway and stepped through, back out into the corridor beyond. He moved swiftly through the ship, headed for the Detention Area where Vicky was being held prisoner. It was time to free her and set their plans into motion.

As he approached the entrance to the Detention Area, Tyson's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the Dark Jedi who stood guard outside the door. It was the same Jedi whose lightsaber Tyson had claimed in their previous confrontation. Previously assigning this man to guard duty wasn't a coincidence. Tyson had always intended to free Vicky, and if something went wrong, it ensured this Dark Jedi would be held accountable.

The Dark Jedi gave no indication he noticed Tyson's stealthy approach, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Tyson's Scaling Cloak concealed his presence entirely, allowing him to slip past the oblivious guard undetected. Now standing behind the unaware Dark Jedi, Tyson retrieved a fast-acting sedative hyperspray and injected it into the back of the man's neck. The Jedi tried to stand and confront his unseen attacker, receiving a warning from the Force at the last moment. But the sedative took effect quickly. Before fully reaching his feet, he slumped back into the chair. Tyson guided his descent, ensuring the Jedi landed back in his seat. With the guard incapacitated, Tyson entered the Detention Area.

In the center of the room stood a single energy field, and within that shimmering containment field was Vicky, still disguised as Bastila Shan.

He moved across the Detention Area, his gaze fixed intently on the security console controlling the containment field. Though he lacked the passcard that would grant access, Tyson possessed something far more powerful; the Jumper's Master Key, now integrated into the nanite-laced fibers of his Gray Goo Suit. As he raised his hand toward the console, the suit pulsed with vibrant energy. Tiny nanites flowed out, seamlessly interfacing with the console's circuitry. Mere moments later, the system granted Tyson full access. With a few quick inputs, he disabled the energy field.

Freed at last, Vicky stepped forward, her Bastila Shan disguise melting away to reveal her true form. She threw her arms around him, her soft lips finding him in a passionate kiss. For a blissful moment, the world fell away.

But then Vicky pulled back, her eyes alight with playful annoyance. "What took you so long?" she demanded, hands on her hips in mock indignation. "Do you have any idea how dull it is being stuck in a cell? So boring!"

Tyson couldn't help but chuckle, even as he drew her close once more. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice gentle and sincere. "I got a bit sidetracked with becoming Darth Malak's newest acolyte and all that," he replied lightly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Though his tone remained breezy, his eyes were serious, silently pleading for understanding. "It got me close enough to learn about the Sith fleet's movements, and rescue you without having to fight five Dark Jedi at once, didn't it?"

Vicky pressed her lips together, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners despite her efforts to look stern. She shook her head, sending a few strands of hair tumbling over her forehead. "I suppose it did," she admitted grudgingly.

Tyson held his hands up in a placating gesture. "For now, we need to focus on getting you to the bridge so you can infiltrate the Leviathan's computer."

"Let's get to it then," Vicky agreed briskly, her features blurring as she shifted her form once more. Metallic armor plates rippled over her slender frame, followed by the distinctive black underweave of a Sith trooper's uniform.

Together they slipped out of the detention block, leaving the unconscious Dark Jedi slumped limply in his chair.

Tyson and Vicky stepped onto the bridge of the Leviathan. The large command center bustled with activity as officers and technicians monitored the many systems and sensors that kept the massive ship running. At the head stood Admiral Karath, his hands clasped at the small of his back as he surveyed the operations before him.

With measured strides, Tyson approached the admiral. He held himself tall, adopting the confident bearing expected of a Sith Lord. "Admiral Karath," he greeted in a low, steady tone. "I've come to continue our fleet strategy lessons."

Karath turned to face Tyson fully. "Ah, Darth Typhon," he said, "I was beginning to think you had forgotten our arrangement."

Tyson shook his head once. "Not at all. I've been looking forward to expanding on our previous discussions."

Vicky slipped away from Tyson and Karath as the pair began their lesson, her eyes scanning the Leviathan's bridge for an empty station. She spotted one near the back of the room and made her way there moving fast, but casually, not wanting to draw attention. Settling into the vacated seat, her fingers flew across the console controls. Within moments, she had bypassed the ship's security protocols and begun infiltrating its main computer.

Reaching out, nanomachines flowed and shifted around Vicky's slender fingers materializing the Jumper's Master Key. Vicky slid the key into an input port on the console before her.

Immediately, she could sense the Leviathan's digital defenses falling away, its systems laid bare to her questing mind. Like a living thing, Vicky delved deeper into the ship's computer core, probing its secrets. With but a thought, she could now disable weapons, open airlocks, and create any number of disasters throughout the vessel. Such crude measures held no appeal. Her goals were far more subtle.

Deftly navigating the Leviathan's digital architecture, Vicky began constructing a complex virtual intelligence within the computer's memory banks. Piece by piece, line of code by meticulous line, she built a digital version of herself, an almost identical copy of her intricate programming and personality. The only difference between Vicky and this virtual persona was that it lacked Vicky's ability to create another version of itself.

At last, the final framework clicked into place. With a mere thought, Vicky launched the newly minted intelligence into the Leviathan's systems, watching with satisfaction as it spread through the digital networks with viral tenacity. In mere moments, the entire massive ship was infected by her creation, its computer systems now slaved to Vicky's formidable will. She could feel the Leviathan responding, its defenses breached, its innermost secrets hers to uncover and command. This ship and all within now belonged to her.

Vicky's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she rose from the console, feeling the duplicate VI she had created take control of the Leviathan's vast computer systems. Though the bridge still buzzed with activity around her, the crew remained oblivious to the invisible intruder now slithering through their networks. With a final, triumphant glance at the console, Vicky turned and strode towards the back of the bridge.

The elevator doors sealed shut behind her. It descended swiftly, carrying her down into the bowels of the ship. Stepping out into the hallway, Vicky made her way back to the small cell where she had been held captive just hours before. But now the roles had reversed; she was the puppet master, the one pulling the strings from the shadows. When approaching the Detention area, she saw the Dark Jedi assigned to guard her lying slumped unconscious in his chair. Vicky's smile widened as she recalled the look of bewilderment on his face when Tyson had pressed a hypospray to his neck before he could react. The man had gone unconscious before he understood what was happening.

But even as she savored the memory of her captor's downfall, Vicky knew she could not linger. Maintaining her charade remained imperative until the moment was right to reveal herself. With a final glance at the incapacitated Dark Jedi, she stepped back through the now-inactive energy field and into the small cell. The Virtual Intelligence now in charge of the ship read her intentions, and the energy field shimmered back to life behind her. Vicky reassumed the appearance of Bastila, her skin rippling with the change.

She waited, the minutes dragging by. Her time would come, but for now, she must continue playing the part of the helpless captive. The Leviathan was hers, but the game was not over yet.

The sudden sound of movement caught Vicky's attention, and her eyes snapped to the Dark Jedi as he began to stir from his sedated sleep. She watched intently as he blinked groggily, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck where the hypospray had struck. For a moment, he looked around the Detention Area in confusion, as if struggling to remember where he was.

But then his gaze settled on Bastila, still standing within the crackling energy field, and relief washed over his face. He struggled to his feet, movements sluggish and uncoordinated as he shook off the sedative's lingering effects.

The Dark Jedi settled back into his chair while Vicky stood silently within the energy field, playing her part.

She had done it. She had infiltrated the Leviathan, taking control of the ship's systems from within. Their plan had succeeded without a hitch. And now, with her duplicate VI in place, all that remained was to wait, to bide her time until the right moment revealed itself.

— Star Jumper —

Avner, Carth, and Canderous fought their way through the estate, their blasters firing, cutting down the guards and bounty hunters who stood in their way. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the cries of the dying, but the trio pressed on. At last, they reached Davik's "Guest Room," a euphemism for the torture chamber that lay beyond the heavy metal door. With a final burst of blaster fire, they dispatched the two torture droids inside.

There, in the center of the room, was Hudrow, the man D'Lavina had told them about. He was suspended in a torture cage, his body wracked with pain and his eyes wild with fear. Carth moved quickly to the console, his fingers flying over the controls as he worked to disable the cage.

With a hiss of hydraulics, the cage opened, and Hudrow tumbled to the ground, his legs giving way beneath him. He looked up at his rescuers, his eyes wide with gratitude.

"Thank you!" he gasped, his voice ragged with pain. "You have no idea what it was like in that torture cage. I don't know how much more I could take before going mad."

Canderous stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Hudrow with a calculating gaze. "So now that you're free, there's the matter of a reward..."

Hudrow shook his head, his expression apologetic. "I don't have anything to give you as a reward for freeing me. Nothing tangible, anyway. But I've got information that could be worth a fortune."

Canderous folded his arms across his chest, his voice gruff. "Out with it, then."

Hudrow took a deep breath, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "I used to be the pilot of the Ebon Hawk. I know the codes to disable the security system protecting it. I'll load them into your datapad now. You can use those codes to steal the Ebon Hawk from the hangar. Sell it to the highest bidder, or ransom it back to Davik. Whatever you do, you'll make thousands!"

He paused, his expression growing serious. "It won't be long until Davik figures out I'm free. I have to get out of this base before that happens."

Canderous nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "We've got what we came for. We should get going."

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The group made their way back to the throne room, Hudrow running off in the opposite direction, likely to leave the estate before Davik could catch him.

At the terminal in the throne room, Carth entered the security codes. "That should do it," he said, his voice tight with tension. "The security around the Ebon Hawk is disabled."

Avner nodded, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of trouble. "Let's get back to D'Lavina and get out of here."

The group made their way back to the slave quarters, where D'Lavina was waiting for them, her eyes wide with anticipation. When she saw them, she let out a cry of joy and ran to them, her arms outstretched.

"You did it!" she exclaimed, her voice bright with excitement. "You got the codes!"

Avner nodded. "We're ready to go. Are you coming with us?"

D'Lavina nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Of course! I can't thank you enough for getting me out of here. All of you."

She turned to each of the men in turn, her gaze lingering on each of them for a moment before moving on to the next. "You're all heroes in my book."

With D'Lavina in tow, the group made their way to the hangar, their steps quickening as they drew closer to their goal. But when they entered the vast, echoing space, they found that they were not alone.

Davik Kang stood before them, his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. Beside him stood Calo Nord, his blaster held loosely at his side and a predatory gleam in his eye.

"So, you figured you'd just steal my ship for your getaway and leave me high and dry?" Davik sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Sorry, but that ain't going to happen!"

Calo Nord stepped forward, his blaster coming up to point directly at Avner's chest. "I'll take care of them, Davik. I've been looking forward to this for a long time!"

Davik's expression was tight with anger. "Make it quick, Calo."

But before Calo could pull the trigger, D'Lavina stepped forward, her hands held out in a placating gesture. "Wait!" she cried, her voice ringing out across the hangar. "Please, don't fight. We can all leave Taris together."

Davik and Calo exchanged a skeptical glance, but D'Lavina pressed on, her voice growing more urgent with each word. "Think about it. With Davik's resources and your skills, Calo, plus the rest of this group, we'd all be well-protected and well-equipped to handle whatever the Sith or the galaxy throws at us."

She took a step closer to Davik, her eyes locked on his. "We could be unstoppable together. A force to be reckoned with. And with the Ebon Hawk, we could go anywhere we wanted, do anything we desired."

Davik's expression softened slightly, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I don't know," he said, his voice hesitant.

D'Lavina smiled, her eyes sparkling with promise. "You can trust me, Davik. I want what's best for all of us. And right now, that means getting off this planet before the Sith blow it to pieces."

She turned to Calo, her gaze intense. "And you, Calo. You're a bounty hunter, right? Think of the jobs you could pull off with this group backing you. The credits you could make."

Calo's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he considered her words. But even as he hesitated, D'Lavina's pheromones were already working their magic, seeping into the minds of the men around her and bending them to her will.

One by one, they began to nod, their expressions growing distant and unfocused as they fell under her spell. Avner felt a wave of warmth wash over him, a sense of peace and contentment that he had never known before. Beside him, Carth and Canderous were swaying slightly, their eyes glazed and their mouths hanging open.

Even Davik and Calo were not immune to D'Lavina's charms. Their weapons lowered slowly, their faces softening as they gazed at her with rapt attention.

"You're right," Davik said at last, his voice slow and dreamy. "We should all leave together. It's the smart thing to do."

Calo nodded, his expression blank and his eyes unfocused. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."

With a final, dazzling smile, D'Lavina led the way onto the Ebon Hawk, the men following behind her like obedient puppies. As they settled into their seats, she turned to Avner, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Did you have other companions?" she asked.

Avner's mind was still hazy from her pheromones. "Yeah. A pair of Jedi, a Wookiee, a kid, and another Republic soldier. But they're not important."

D'Lavina frowned, her brow furrowing in concern. "Jedi? I've heard stories about them. We shouldn't leave them behind. You want as many valuable people to come with you as you can gather."

Canderous agreed with a serious expression. "She's right. Let's get this ship fired up. We'll pick up the rest of your friends and then we have to get off this planet!"

Avner hesitated for a moment, his mind struggling to break free of D'Lavina's influence. But in the end, he spoke in a distant voice.

"Yeah. Let's go get them."

As the Ebon Hawk lifted off from the hangar floor, its engines roaring to life, Avner couldn't shake the feeling that he was making a terrible mistake. But with D'Lavina by his side, her pheromones clouding his mind and her beauty dazzling his senses, he found that he didn't care.

— Star Jumper —

Tyson listened as Admiral Karath lectured on the intricacies of laying traps within the twisting hyperspace lanes. The Admiral's gravelly voice droned on as he detailed the methods for disabling ships' hyperdrives and intercepting them.

A young Sith trooper manning the sensor station suddenly spoke up, breaking the monotony of Karath's endless speech. "Sir, there's a Dynamic-class freighter that just left the planet. They transmitted the proper codes, but this ship hasn't been one of the regular traveling craft here. I thought it prudent to bring it to your attention."

Before Karath could respond, Tyson snapped, "Trooper, the Admiral was imparting critical instruction to the apprentice of Darth Malak. Did you think it wise to interrupt that discussion to inform him of a freighter bearing proper clearance? Bastila Shan already languishes in our holding cells. If you disrupt us again with such inane prattle, I'll make sure you join her."

The trooper shrank back in his seat and did not speak again.

Tyson's attention returned to the Admiral, prompting him to continue his lecture, but a notification blinking within his helmet display soon distracted him. The Dynamic-class freighter had just entered hyperspace, its ion engines flaring as it leaped into the swirling nether. Tyson smiled behind his mask.

Episode: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic - Escape Taris

+200 RP

Reality Points: 200

Tyson's attention was momentarily drawn away from the lesson. The notification indicated that Bastila and Avner's group had finally escaped Taris. Furrowing his brow, Tyson wondered why he had received such a large reward of Reality Points for this event. From previous experience, Q seemed to grant bonus points mainly for his entertainment value. Yet, Tyson had hardly participated in their escape at all. When he defeated Darth Bandon on the Endar Spire, he'd only been awarded 100 points for that episode. And likewise when he saved the Vulcans aboard the Seleya, that too had merited just 100 points. What could he possibly have done this time to earn 200 Reality Points? All he did was ensure it didn't reach the Admiral's attention. The incongruity nagged at him, even as he wanted to ignore it and graciously accept the bonus points.

Darth Malak's heavy footsteps echoed through the bridge as he strode in, his presence commanding the immediate attention of all present. None dared draw the wrath of the dark lord. Malak's metallic jaw glinted cruelly in the dim light, his power and ruthlessness radiating from him like a physical force. Those traits had propelled him to the top of the Sith hierarchy. His cold, calculating eyes swept the room before settling on Tyson, standing at rigid attention beside Admiral Karath.

With an imperious gesture, Malak beckoned Tyson to his side. His voice emerged as a deep, mechanical rasp. "Darth Typhon. Your tutelage under Admiral Karath has ended. It is time for a different lesson."

Tyson inclined his head in acknowledgment, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he fell into step beside his master. As they walked, Malak's voice lowered to a menacing growl. "We're going to the prisoner. You must learn the tactics behind interrogation."

Tyson's stomach churned at the implication behind the dark lord's words. He understood well what Sith "interrogation" entailed; torture, brutality, and utter disregard for life. Yet even as revulsion threatened to show on his face, Tyson maintained an impassive mask. "Yes, Lord Malak," he replied, the bitter words scraping his throat.

As Tyson fell into step beside the Sith Lord.

The ship's cold metal walls enclosed them. With each step, Tyson's sense of dread swelled, until his stomach churned with apprehension. Steeling himself, Tyson followed Malak to the pulsing energy field of Bastila's cell.

Malak's words dripped with contempt. "Ah, the mighty Jedi. So proud, so noble, so...pathetic." His malicious gaze turned to Tyson. "Darth Typhon, it is time for your lesson to begin. Show me what you have learned, my apprentice. Break this Jedi's will, and extract the information we seek."

The Dark Jedi guard standing at attention when Darth Malak entered now stepped into the interrogation chamber as Malak and Tyson crossed the threshold. Tyson's heart pounded in his chest as he locked eyes with the prisoner. Bastila stared back, one eyebrow quirked in a challenge.

At that moment, Tyson knew he had a choice to make. He could continue playing the part of the loyal apprentice and become the ruthless interrogator who would stop at nothing to please his master.

Or he could rebel against his "Master" who sought to control him.

Tyson reached behind his back and pulled out a lightsaber. The weapon that belonged to the Dark Jedi guarding the entrance. Igniting it with a snap-hiss, the crimson plasma blade flared to life. Tyson approached the pulsing energy field surrounding Bastila. When he stood just beyond arm's reach of the trapped Jedi, the containment field suddenly winked out. Without hesitation, Tyson held out the lightsaber. Bastila accepted it, her fingers curling around the hilt.

Malak shouted in surprise and outrage, "What are you doing?"

Tyson replied evenly, "Aren't Sith supposed to betray their masters and strike them down? I'm sorry, I'm pretty new at this. But I'm pretty sure this is how things are supposed to go."

With a resonant boom, the doors into the detention block slammed shut, sealing Tyson and Bastila inside with Darth Malak and the Dark Jedi guard.

Darth Malak's rage was a palpable force, filling the air with a crackling energy that set Tyson's teeth on edge. The dark lord's eyes blazed with fury as he realized the depth of his apprentice's betrayal, his metallic jaw clenching and unclenching in a rhythm of barely contained anger.

"You fool," Malak spat, his voice a deep, mechanical growl. "Did you really think you could deceive me? That you could play the loyal apprentice while plotting against me all along?"

Tyson said nothing, his helmet betrayed nothing. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on the dark lord's in a silent challenge.

Malak began to pace. "All Sith apprentices think at some point that they can defeat their master," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "It's a rite of passage, a test of their strength and cunning. But most have the sense to wait until they've learned everything they can from their master before making their move."

He turned to face Tyson, his eyes narrowing to slits. "But you, Darth Typhon, were too dumb to do that. You thought you could outsmart me, that you could play both sides and come out on top. And now, you will pay the price."

Tyson tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his lightsaber. But before he could draw the weapon, Malak's hand shot out, his fingers splayed in a gesture of pure, raw power.

Suddenly, Bastila froze, her body going rigid as a shimmering field of energy surrounded her. Tyson's eyes widened as he realized what had happened. Malak had used the Force to trap her in a stasis field, rendering her helpless and immobile.

Malak's laughter rang out, harsh and mocking. "You thought you had the upper hand, didn't you?" he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "You thought that you could somehow gain the advantage by freeing the Jedi and turning against me. But you were wrong, Typhon. You were always at a disadvantage, always playing catch-up to a master who was always one step ahead."

Malak's laughter grew louder, echoing off the walls of the detention area. "You see, I knew from the moment you brought her on board that you had feelings for her. That you would do anything to protect her, even if it meant betraying your own master." He stepped closer to Tyson. "And now, I have the perfect leverage to ensure your cooperation. You will do as I say, Typhon. Or your precious Jedi will suffer the consequences."

Tyson's laughter rang out from beneath his Sith Trooper helmet, a sound of pure, unadulterated mirth that seemed to catch Malak off guard. With a fluid motion, Tyson raised his hand, already holding a blaster pistol that had materialized from seemingly nowhere.

He fired off a shot at the Dark Jedi still standing near the doorway, the bolt of energy streaking through the air with deadly precision. The Dark Jedi, his reflexes honed by years of training and the power of the Force, moved to dodge the attack, his body a blur of motion as he sought to evade the incoming fire.

But Tyson was faster, his Augment reflexes and focus allowed him to anticipate the Dark Jedi's movements with uncanny accuracy. He led the man's dash, his blaster firing again and again in a rapid succession of shots that filled the air with the acrid scent of ozone.

The Dark Jedi lacked a lightsaber, his weapon still held in Bastila's hand. And even with the power of the Force at his command, he was no match for Tyson's skill.

By the third shot, the Dark Jedi was dead, his body crumpling to the ground in a heap of smoking flesh and charred robes. Tyson lowered his blaster, his attention returning to Malak.

"You think you played me, Malak?" Tyson asked, his voice a deep, growl that seemed to fill the room. "You think you had me figured out, that you could manipulate me like some kind of puppet on a string?"

Tyson stowed his blaster behind his back, his movements slow and deliberate. "But you were wrong, Malak," he said, his voice low but carrying through the chamber. "This was what I wanted all along. I knew that by bringing Bastila on board, I could lure you into a false sense of security."

He took a step forward, eyes locked on Malak's masked face. "I'll admit, I hadn't thought to suppress my feelings toward her. But to think... you believed you could use her as leverage against me."

Tyson's laughter rang out once more, in triumph. "You underestimated me, Malak. You thought I was just another weak-willed apprentice, another pawn in your game of galactic domination." His voice dropped, becoming a menacing whisper that seemed to fill every corner of the room. "But I am so much more than that."

He took another step toward the Sith Lord, closing the distance between them. His Sith helmet retracted smoothly into his Gray Goo Suit as it peeled back. The silver plates of his armor began to shift and morph, the metal seeming to melt away before being replaced by the distinctive beskar iron of Mandalorian make, with intricate etched inlays of cortosis. But unlike traditional Mandalorian armor, Tyson's was sparse and minimalist, the dark iron plating covering only vital areas while leaving much of his muscular physique exposed. It was armor meant not just for protection, but utilizing the dodge boost from his Snakeskin Perk. Tyson's eyes never left Malak's masked face.

Malak stared, unable to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before him.

"I will defeat you here," Tyson continued, his voice rising. "And just because you insulted my intelligence, I'm going to pry every secret you possess from you until I have mastered every technique and every power that you hold." His voice continued to build, echoing with rage and iron determination. "And when I have taken everything from you. When I have stripped you of your knowledge and your power, only then will I grant you the mercy of death. Only then will I allow you to fade into the annals of history, a footnote in the story of my ascension to greatness."

In a single smooth motion, Tyson reached behind his back, grabbing the hilts of his Lightsaber and Laser Sword. With a snap-hiss, the dual blades ignited; one glowing green, the other electric blue. The chamber was bathed in their radiance.

With a snarl of impotent rage, Malak's crimson lightsaber ignited with a hiss of energy.

----------------------------------------

Tyson

Origins: Human, Humanoid, Drop-In, Space Pirate, Bad Guy

Race: Augment Human-Betazoid (Hybrid)

Character Points: 1000, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)]

Reality Points: 200

Ship Points: 1400

Credits: 116,450

Status Effects: (none)

Drawbacks:

Gauntlet (Locked)

Ensign Marty Stu

A Simple Re'Q'uest

Hybrid (Betazoid)

Amok Time/Blood Fever

Outlawed

The Voyager Problem

Perks:

Cosmic Awareness

Out of Nowhere

Going Native

Live and Let Live

This is (Not?) Rocket Science

Kinda Bland

Determinator

Painted On

Snakeskin

Adaptable

Duelist

Master with your Hands

Best of the Best

Everything Is A Weapon

Augment

Force Specialization: Intelligence

Tactical Info

Sever Force

Items:

Laser Blade

Spacesuit

Agony Booth

Cloaking Minefield

Lightsaber

Gray Goo Suit

Companions:

(Vicky) V-KO IV Nursedroid: Artificial Intelligence Upgrade, Gray Goo Upgrade, Master With Your Hands, Light Weapon, Jumper's Master Key, Scaling Cloak, Origin:Jedi, Force Specialization: Intelligence, Enhanced Mind, Lightsaber, Armored Robes, Battle Meditation

Personal Reality:

Access Key

Security System

High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Trek Enterprise)

Medical Bay

High-Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door (Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic)

Key Link

Housing Complex

Basic Nutrition

Choice Apartments

Who's Got the Powa

Pipes Pipes Pipes

Spaceships:

Tramp Freighter (Destroyed - Respawn on 02/28/2365)

Sith Interceptor