Chapter Five

Damien’s initially naive enthusiasm over getting access to some Galaxy based tech, was soon rendered down to a realistic depression. Not only was he feeling disheartened, but once again overwhelmed. This time it was by the sheer level of discrepancy between Earth’s technology base and the Galaxy’s. For an analogy, all be it a poor one, Earth was an apple, and the Galaxy was an orange. The only thing the two had in common was the fact they were both technically fruit. He felt his entire thirty-seven years of accumulated life experience was a total waste or at least irrelevant.

The realization was made magnitudes more evident by the fact that he, one of Earth’s best technology gurus, was currently riding inside an armored, heavily weaponized intelligent mobile mechanized war vehicle, and couldn’t begin to understand even the underlining fundamental principles of the technology utilized within. For the first time in his exalted life, he finally felt like an illiterate caveman staring at a children's book, and being like....,

“Duh..., can I eat it?”

Giving up on any further exploration to decipher the Galaxy’s technologies, Damien went forward dropping down into the co-pilot's chair, before taking his awareness and entering the “Mind Palace” state.

“It is abundantly clear, that we are hopelessly underprepared to interact on any level with the Galaxy. Alfred, how go’s the progress on formatting a translation matrix?”

“Sir, there are over nine million forms of communication in the Galaxy, and sadly there are none we currently utilize. Without developing a compatible interface, enabling us to directly share data. I am afraid any translation software I can develop at this time will likely not advance beyond the most rudimentary of expectations.

As of this moment we have established communications via a virtual environment with a holographic display that is utilizing the “Aurebesh script”. I’m currently formatting a tri-Paradigm translation matrix that sequentially incorporates “Aurabesh script”, “Galactic Basic”, and “English”. However, as you may have perceived, there are many terms and words, that must in turn have harmonical “English” facsimile pronunciations created for them. This has greatly impacted our speed of progression.”

“Alfred, go ahead and send what you’ve managed to correlate thus far to my “Cybernetic memory core”, and continue updating as you proceed.”

“Very good Sir. Beginning download in 5..., 4..., 3..., 2..., 1..., now.”

Damien felt his mind expand as a sudden influx of strange knowledge flooded his brain. Once again, he tasted watermelon for some reason.

Damien considered his options moving forward, which were disappointingly bleak for now. Sure, he recovered his body, and to a state that was arguably better than before. However, putting the benefit of cybernetic enhancement aside, he had underestimated the degree of detachment he was now experiencing. His overall drive and motivation were at and all time low, with little to no desire or inspiration to draw from. A direct coloration was easily drawn between his current low mental state and the loss of most of what makes a human feel like a human.

Regardless it wasn’t in Damien’s nature to dwell on things outside of his control. Which reminded him of one particular “droid mind”, currently not under his control. Yes, he was indeed referring to “War Chariot”, this unknown variable who had at best questionable allegiances, and at worst could become hostel at the drop of a hat....,

“Alfred, if there is one thing I’ve learned from the “Star Wars” franchise, it is that you should never underestimate or trust a droid, you have not built yourself. With that in mind, we need to figure out a contingency plan that can render this vehicle inoperable. And it would be best to have it hammered out before we get to wherever it is taking us.”

“Very good Sir, I will begin running the numbers...,”

“Sir, I have deduced from the level of temperature fluctuations via estimated energy transmissions, that the highlighted area of the control paneling is the most probable site of a core processor nexus. I calculate a 4% probability rating, that by destroying the highlighted section of control paneling, you will render the vehicle’s controls non-functional."

“Alfred, I take it that is the best result, formulated by your simulations?”

“Sir, the data simply cannot support any conclusive results, making it improbable to render any conclusion with any degree of accuracy at this time. I do apologize, Sir.”

“So, you’re really telling me, that you're guessing. Is that what this boils down to?”

“An educated guess, but I’m glad you understand, Sir.”

“Yes, I understand alright..., I understand we damn well better be extra nice to this vehicle. How about you tell me what you’ve learned regarding the Galaxy’s “Computer science and holo-net?”

“Sir, I’ve been able to confirm much of what we already theorized. In general terms, “Droid brains”, sometimes referred to as “data-brains”, “droid processor”, “cognitive module”, “cognitive units”, or “computer brain”, are a form of processing computer. They are also frequently utilized in starships to manage specialized systems.

A “data-pad” is a small, usually low-cost, electronic device used for storing information. A data-pad can store textual, graphic, and holographic data. They are commonly used as notebooks, day planners, calculators, and sketchpads. Some models could interface with and download information from larger computer networks. Most data-pads came standard equipped with a touch-sensitive color screen, audio pickups, headphone ports, built-in holoprojector, and power packs.

A “data-card” is used to transfer and store large amounts of information. A group of data-cards is called a data-pack. Alternative data storage and retrieval devices were data-discs or data plaques. Information stored on them (for example, star charts, encyclopedias, tour guides, law books, works of fiction) are widely available. These data-cards could be loaded into a data-pad for easy access. Many planetary governments were legally obligated to provide such materials to all off-worlders.

The “Holo-Net”, is a galactic communications grid that was developed, used and maintained by the Galactic Republic. The Holo-Net was a near-instantaneous communications network commissioned by the Galactic Senate to provide a free flow of hologram communication and information exchange among member worlds. It vastly sped up galactic communications, which had previously depended on more circuitous subspace transmissions or relays.

A message was first broadcast from a planet, a vessel in hyperspace, or from another point of origin; from there, it was then routed from the point of origin's transmitter through potentially millions of hyper-wave transceivers suspended in hyperspace to a Holo-Net relay, where it is sorted, identified and logged by the relay's computer, and then routed further via appropriate transceivers to its destination.

The transceivers themselves transferred information across the galaxy through s-threads. This enabled data to be sent and received at faster-than-light speeds, ensuring near-instantaneous communication from one end of the galaxy to the other, by routing information from origin to transceiver, to Holo-Net relay, to transceiver network yet again, and finally to its destination.

Information transmitted via the Holo-Net was nearly impossible to infiltrate or corrupt, thanks to the s-thread's incredibly narrow hyperspace dimensions. The only way to do so was to attach a listening device to the sender's equipment, the relay station, or at the destination itself.”

After getting the info dump, Damien returned to the outside world and watched the alien scenery sail by. Sitting quietly while mulling over the information, “War Chariot” continued plotting along the pre-pared route. He realized the insignificance that the galaxy held towards time, as it meant less than nothing in this new reality. Even the day cycles were completely bonkers and held no meaning anymore. And none of this was as alien as living on a moon was. With a big ass planet feeling like it's only, a stone throws away, while dangling over your head. This life was truly beyond the pale, to the point where it was completely unrecognizable from anything he considered normal.

Damien watched out through the front viewing screen, as a thick plum of dark grey smoke rose up out of the horizon. The sight immediately triggered alarm bells in his mind, giving him a disappointed feeling about what they were about to encounter. He sadly thought it was a shame, he had no one he could turn and vocalize his concerns with. So, he did it anyways....,

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Damien looked around the otherwise empty compartment and sighed. He decided to let the scenario play out, even though he had a good idea of what they were likely to find. He felt a sense of momentum dragging him into this nexus of conflict, like it had its own gravity. He supposed it could even be considered preordained or is it predestined. He supposed it didn’t really matter; he was just a leaf, caught in the current of the wind at this point.

Besides, he was now being directly influenced by “The Force” which was guiding him along, allowing him to feel the different currents, as they forked and branched, leading off to different outcomes. One current lead him to avoid the fight that was coming; however, he could also feel an empty darkness awaiting him at the end of that current.

There was another current that felt like warm sunlight on Damien’s face, it led down a path clouded by an accruing injustice that was his to oppose, it was a strong gravitational pull as if trying to forcibly drag him along. Oddly enough, there was a second current full of darkness, which was merging with the one of light. The darkness tried coaxing him with tempting promises of strength, power, and control. Its motivations were much simpler to read, it only wanted one thing, absolute dominance.

Damien found it amusing to see “the light” and “the dark” traveling the same path and having the same end game, but with completely different motivations. The choice is the illusion, there never was a choice, we are just a bunch of leaves caught up in the current of the wind.

It wasn’t long before the dramatic scene played out, the burned-out homestead, the milling group of evil bad guys, and the heavy tension of two opposing forces about to collide. For the opposition, there were two dozen combatants, with four “landspeeders” each equipped with their own manned blaster turret. From their armor, they were clearly recognizable as originating from the same source as the “Goons” who killed the “Orbis” the Mirialan.

It appears this larger contingent was sent in force to wipe “Orbis” out at his home. Those other six must have been ordered to tail him from a distance, while reporting on his movements. They must have seen the remote destination as a golden opportunity, which was too good to pass up. And, it would have been had it not been for “Orbis” tracking Damien up the mountain. Thats fate for you, a fickle bitch.

“Alfred, can you establish a communications link between our new friend and me while translating for us?”

“Very good, Sir. That is well within my capabilities, Sir. Establishing link in 5..., 4..., 3..., 2..., 1..., now. Will there be anything else, Sir?”

“Alfred, continue housekeeping protocols.”

“Very good, Sir.”

“Well, “War chariot”, it looks like we’re in the shit..., I don’t know if you have any programing that keeps you from injuring “organics” or not. That doesn't really matter. I just want you to not shoot me, sound good?”

“Very good, Sir. He says he is perfectly capable of defending himself, if he is fired upon first. He also states that he will try his best not to shoot you.”

“I suppose that’s the best anyone can hope for..., “Alfred” I want “War Chariot” to stay mobile. His initial priority: needs to be focused on taking out all but one of the enemy transport vehicles, as soon as hostilities kick off. His second priority is to contain the enemy and keep them pinned down with short bursts of suppressive fire. Stress the need to conserve ammo, and not get bogged down, or focus on any one target too long. Just continuously circle the perimeter and provide burst cover fire at targets of convenience. Do all this and we might just survive the day...., Now open the side hatch, and let me out.”

“Very good Sir. However, might I advise a more cautious approach. I calculate a...,”

“Alfred, stop..., First mute or stop translating to “War Chariot” for a moment.”

“Very good Sir, all communications have paused.”

“Alfred, I understand the number disparage is heavily favored against us. However, this is the “Galaxy” and not “Earth” where everyone is roughly on the same level. Here, I might as well be the “Wolverine” when compared to these “unenhanced” bad guys. I have no doubt even if they had twice their current numbers, they would pose little to no threat to me. In fact, I am one hundred percent certain I’m more than capable of annihilating this entire group in seconds if I went all out.

However, that isn’t what I want. I want to employ a bit of deception. We currently do not know who our true enemy is, these bad guys are just expendable cannon fodder meant to do grunt work. So, until we discover the identity of our true villain, we need to present ourselves as weak as possible while just managing to survive. This way, the villain believes he can crush us at any moment and doesn’t become desperate.

A desperate enemy may do something truly insane if he believes he has no other options to win. I can think of a few terrifying nuclear options, which he could utilize off the top of my head. Hell, he could just call in an orbital bombardment for all we know. So, listen to my orders and enjoy the play. Any questions, now that I had to monologue our audience into a coma?”

“Just one, Sir. What of “War Chariot” ...., I calculate an 84% probability chance of it surviving with only heavy damage, as well as a 68% probability chance of it being out right destroyed while in this engagement, Sir?”

“Alfred, “War Chariot” was built specifically to wage war. This is its only purpose in life. How can I deny it a chance to serve its purpose? Now, resume communications with “War Chariot”, and then continue housekeeping protocols.”

“Very good, Sir.”

Damien jumped out before “War Chariot” could decelerate, hitting the ground in a textbook; “tuck and roll”. Jumping back to his feet, he began running at top speed, mostly just to see what his top speed could reach. He was disappointed with the result, finding his overall speed little better than standard human.

Damien realized the problem lay with his running gait, which was still his previous unrefined running style of his past life. It needed refining to a professional athletic standard. Running proved to be a much more complex and complicated process, involving the entire body cooperating in harmony. He continued analyzing his gait while making small incremental corrections. Eventually he reached a level that surpassed elite human standard. He still felt there was room for improvement, but time ran out...,

“Alfred, have “War Chariot” veer left and circle, clockwise. I’ll go right so we can split their fire.”

“Very good Sir. Will there be anything else, Sir?”

“Alfred continue housekeeping protocols.”

As predicted, the moment Damien ignited the “lightsaber” and showed the neon blue blade, he was targeted with a constant barrage of blaster fire. “War Chariot” as directed successfully took out all, but one of the enemies’ land-speeders, while performing his role as a distraction, soaking up more than half of the enemy's focused fire.

Damien had never planned to end this fight quickly, so instead of bulldozing his way to the enemy, he slowed down under their accumulative fire. He utilized the incoming blaster bolts as practice, engaging in furthering his understanding in “the Jedi” art of “Tutaminis” the “Force abilities” related to energy absorption. Through these abilities a force user was granted the capability of dissipating concentrated energies such as “Sith lightning”, “blaster-bolts”, or even “lightsaber blades”.

With Damien’s enhanced senses, it was incredibly easy to intercept the incoming energy bolts. However, he was only able to absorb them and couldn’t deflect them. He continued his slow march, while trying everything he could think of to deflect the bolts. He realized his mistake the moment he fed his own “Force Awareness” into “the lightsaber” blade. Everything became crystal clear in that instant, and simultaneously the blade changed from blue to silver....,

“Shit”

The last thing Damien wanted was to be recognized by anything other than this particular “Mirialan” identity. Thinking quickly, he utilized “the Force” to deactivate the pressure lock on his helmet and tossed it away, giving everyone a clear view of his olive green “Mirialan” features.

Damien proceeded to practice deflecting blaster bolts, at first, he was simply trying to return the bolt back in the general direction of their sender. Once he was comfortable with his success rate, he began targeting their face plates. This was still harmless to their armor but proved infinitely more distracting upon hitting. Besides, he was taking this time to see how well he could incorporate the “lightsaber” in with his extensive virtual “Kenjutsu” sword training. It was proving remarkably compatible, as he continued to grow more familiar with wielding the “lightsaber”.

Damien continued his steady pace until he reached within ninety-paces of the closest enemy, where he gages the distance critically. Satisfied by his estimations, he brought the hilt of the lightsaber close in by his side, dragging the blade outward to the side. He then infused his body with “the Force”, before leaning towards the nearest enemy and stomping the ground with all his “Force” enhanced cybernetic might.

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Damien simply vanished from the spot as he shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow string. He reappeared a dozen paces beyond the enemy, managing to look back just in time to see the two pieces of the armored figure split apart horizontally, as they toppled to the ground. The entire battlefield paused for a pregnant heartbeat, before exploding back into an even more desperate degree of fighting. They had now seen the true threat they were up against and were now hell bent on destroying it.

Damien decided to try emulating “Darth Vader” by portraying an indominable presence on the battlefield and began utilizing various telekinetic abilities to control the tempo of the fight. After all it wouldn’t serve his strategy to make it look like he was having too easy of a time. Best to let himself get bogged down, now and then to sell the performance. With a “Force push” here, a “Force pull” there, and he even “Force choked” one particularly annoying fellow, who tried to toss a thermal detonator at him.

Damien left the “Goon”, suspended in the air by his throat, so he could finish out the rest of this life kicking and struggling. He preceded to wade through the fighting without any real goal other than to get close enough to deliver a killing blow. He also decided on emulating the “Hulk”, by displaying an enormous amount of rage at their presence and the situation in general. Roaring and “Force tossing” anything and everything around willy nilly.

Damien saw that “War Chariot” was beginning to break through the Goons’ armor, sending a few to reincarnate. This once again divided the enemy's focus, allowing himself to sweep away a few more “Goons” who were caught off guard with the sudden change in factors. The last thing he wanted was to wipe the entire enemy contingent. He kept hoping for a few to lose nerve and break ranks, but they were proving unusually stubborn.

For the first time since he encountered these “Goons”, he began wondering just who the hell were these guys, and where did they come from. He had a suspicion, by their detached indifference, professionalism, and coordination, that these guys were brought in from off-world. It seemed unlikely these guys were home grown, not that he had any evidence one way or the other.

It took time, but eventually Damien and “War Chariot” managed to dwindle down their numbers to the last four “Goons”. As he engaged with the nearest of the four, the other three who seemed to be a group to themselves, finally broke rank and retreated as a unit. He saw War Chariot begin turning to pursue, and subvocalized a command to Alfred...,

“Alfred, make sure “War Chariot” only puts up a token effort to give chase, I want at least one out of the three to escape, understood?”

“Very good Sir. I will see to it that he understands.”

Damien turned his attention back to his last opponent and grabbed out with “the Force” yanking the Goon to him. He performed a textbook thrust that left the incoming “Goon” impaled through the heart. He disengaged the lightsaber while taking a step back allowing the Goon to fall. All in all, he was content with his overall performance.

Flipping the lightsaber hilt up into the air, then catching it, Damien was more than happy with his first experience wielding the legendary weapon. The weapon had lived up to expectations and surpassed them. He began walking around exploring the site of the still burning main “compound”. He wasn’t sure what the right designation it deserved, he supposed it could have been a “farmhouse”, or perhaps “homestead”. Whatever the case it was, it was now a total write-off.

“Who are you..., Even though you wear my brother’s appearance, he could never have fought with that level of skill, as you just did?”

Damien could only stare dumbly at the emerging female “Mirialan”, who apparently survived the raid by hiding in a secret underground cellar. He also better understood the term near-human, from her appearance the only difference was her green skin coloring. Her eyes were a beautiful sea foam green; her hair was dark, perhaps even black, it was tied back using a bit of string. Her face was delicate with graceful features, that lent her that innocent Audrey Hepburn vibe.

Her facial tattoos were subdued, with one set located between the brows, one set under each eye, and one set on her chin. Each of the four sets depicted the same four diamonds set close together to form a larger diamond. As for height and body, she measured out at 5’2” and was a perfect body double for, Scarlett Johansen's: Black Widow character. Her attire was of simple design but excellent quality. It comprised of a simple long tunic with three quarter sleeves, loose-fitting capri-style trousers, with a simple pair of open leather sandals. All in all, Damien was getting a “sexy girl next door” vibe from her.

“Alfred, can you translate?”

“I apologize Sir, but “Tamalia Mahar” is currently speaking in a language that is neither “Aurabesh script” or “Galactic Basic” ...., Sir, “War Chariot” has agreed to translate.”

Damien was pleasantly surprised to hear, a feminine droid voice broadcast from “War Chariot” the vehicle, which spoke the same language, as “Tamalia Mahar”. He supposed the language thing should have been obvious, now that he thought about it. After all, “War Chariot” was owned and operated by “Mirialans”, making their native tongue the default language. He had to wait for the two to exchange several statements....,

“Sir. The return translation reads: “So, my brother is dead, killed by these people...., You come to return to me “War Chariot”, Is this only out of a sense of altruism or is there more you require?”

“Alfred, translate: “My name is Wick, Jon Wick. You can call me Mister Wick. Your name is “Tamalia Mahar”, yes?”

“Sir. The return translation reads: “Yes, Mister Wick, my name is Tamalia Mahar. You can call me “Lya” or “Mar” whichever you prefer.”

“Alfred, translate: “I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances, Miss Mahar..., Your brother and I met by coincidence, as I witnessed these “Goons” ambush him. To silence me, they included me in their attack and tried to kill me. Your brother and I fought side by side, but he was struck down during the fighting. Your brother was very brave and fought like a hero.”

“Sir. The return translation reads: “Your words are very kind, perhaps maybe too kind. I’ve known my brother, ever since we shared a womb. He was many things; brave, fool hearty, reckless, stubborn, and completely in over his head. I will except your words in the spirit they were meant. If there is nothing else you require, then I will thank you, and bid you farewell, Mister Wick.”

“Alfred, translate: “I have newly arrived at this world; I was assigned the mission to discover the great evil that is occurring on this world and stop it if possible. I operate alone, with no support, utilizing only local assets to accomplish each mission. What I need is information, and any local knowledge you can provide me with. This includes, but is not limited to; local culture, local traditions, local laws, and even the local educational materials. Anything would be appreciated.”

“Sir. The return translation reads: “I understand, Mister Wick. My brother too, was trying to fight against what was happening. You know better than me how that worked out for him. I hope for both our sakes you have a better fate than he did. Mine seems to be one of ruin, with my only option is to cling to your thigh and hope to receive your benevolence and protection. As for those things you require, all that I am, is now yours. If this arrangement is acceptable to you, Mister Wick?”

“Alfred, try to refine that last translation, it can’t possibly mean what you just related.”

“I assure you, Sir. That is the most accurate translation of her intention and meaning.”

Damien stepped back and thought through all options available to him, while already knowing that the only beneficial option, wasn’t the one that abandoned “Tamalia Mahar”. He also wouldn’t put it past “the Force” to be manipulating things behind the scenes. He had already exposed his “stepsister fetish” to “the Galaxy” by “Way of Shadow”, and here he was now being offered a “smoking hot ass alien girl” who was willing to be his in exchange for shelter. Which by itself was more than enough reason to keep her around, right?

“Alfred, translate: “Perhaps it is fool heartiness that runs in your family. That being said, I am intrigued by such a generous offer. However, you may not know this, but “Force sensitivity” tends to be shared between twins. You have another option available to you Miss Mahar”, if you are willing to grasp it?”

Damien held out the “lightsaber” hilt first to her. Tamalia surprised him by suddenly jumping forward and hugging him around his waist, while pressing her cheek to his hard armored chest plate. He gingerly and attentively wrapped his armored arms around her shaking shoulders, only then realize she was crying, or to be more precise, she was bawling, like a baby. He chalked it up into several factors, grief, stress, fear, desperation, and most of all relief.

“Alfred, translate: “We can’t stay here for much longer. I need you to point out what is important, valuable, or useful to us. We can only take as much as we can fit inside the cargo compartment in “War Chariot”. Just point out anything that’s too heavy or awkward to carry and I’ll see its loaded.”

Damien wasn’t too worried about another attack happening any time soon. It would take time for the opposition to regroup and figure out what went so terribly wrong. Especially, in such a way to cause them to suffer thirty-two fatalities, and back-to-back mission failures.

Damien was almost positive that these guys were professional mercenaries, and probably very expensive ones at that. Which would only exasperate the downside of hiring soldiers of fortune, which was their lack of conviction and unwillingness to die for a cause. After all you cannot enjoy your fortune if you're dead.

That means they will be overly cautious in how they respond, first needing to debrief the survivors and understand the ins and outs of the why’s and how's. Only once they have a clear account of the situation will they begin to plan for their counter. Even with all that, “the mercs” will be overly cautious, prioritizing their survival rather than achieving their targeted goals. Fear and caution would make the mercenaries all but useless for the time being.

All of this boiled down to giving Damien time to breathe and plan. He still had no clue what he was up against or even what he was trying to stop. His biggest concern was the degree of the “off-world connection”, and their overall ability to spend money. He didn’t mind helping in the short term but getting bogged down in situations like a war, was asking a bit too much.

Or Damien could be completely wrong about all his assumptions, and a strike-force was already on the way, and would be arriving imminently. Only time would tell.

It ended up taking several hours to sift through all the rubble and buildings, gathering only useful equipment, and supplies. One fortunate thing Damien came to realize was the Galaxies pension for making everything modulated. It almost felt like disassembling a “Lego” build, which many of the priority systems like water treatment, power supply, and automated lifestyle accoutrement units, only needed unplugging from their housings. Most wiring came in prefabricated harnesses, that would make reinstallation child's play on the other end.

Damien’s “Force sensitivity” alerted him to a presence, that was swiftly moving towards them. And from the direction it was traveling from, he deduced it was most likely an enemy....,

“Alfred, tell “War Chariot” to get Tamalia out of here, head for the base of the mountain. I’ll come find them when I’ve dealt with this new player.”

“Very good Sir. Will there be anything else, Sir?”

“Alfred, continue housekeeping protocols.”

“Very good Sir.”

Damien watched as “War Chariot” disappeared into the thick concealment of the rainforest, heading towards the towering volcano. Not even a moment later a “speeder-bike” broke out of the tree line, moving at an incredible velocity. Not surprised when the rider adjusts course, directly aiming for him, then accelerating to an even greater breakneck speed, throwing up an impressive rooster tail in their wake.

Once the rider made it within fifty yards of him, the hooded black figure suddenly leapt up, utilizing the speeder-bikes seat, as a springboard, to “Force launch” itself incredibly high, in a beautiful arching parabola through the sky. At the peak, while performing an impressive midair flip, it ignited a lightsaber, one with a bloody crimson red hued blade.

Damien’s blood ran cold, as he only knew of one type of being who wielded a crimson “lightsaber”, a “Sith Creature”. This made him have a queer, “DeJa'vu” moment, as he replayed that one scene in “the phantom menace”. The one when “Darth Maul” engages “Jedi Master” “Qui-Gon Jinn” for the first time on “Tatooine”. This all felt way too similar for it to be a coincidence, which begged the question, what were the “Force Gods”, playing at? And what did this mean for him, personally? After all, “Darth Maul” ended up slaying “Qui-Gon Jinn” on Naboo.

Damien shuddered and immediately panicked. Reaching out with both hands, while utilizing every iota of “Force strength” that he could muster, he threw the demon creature as far away from him as possible. It was only while watching the “Sith, turning into a small black speck, flying over the horizon, that he broke out of his panic induced fear. He also realized just how badly he overreacted, seeing how incredibly far he managed to toss the “Sith”.

Damien made up his mind to go after this new variable and to at least see what he could derive from its hopefully dead corpse. Running over to the “speederbike”, he climbed on only to realize he had no idea how to operate it. It took him several long minutes, of going through “Alfred”, to get “War Chariot”, to pull up the operations manual, and then feed the information back down the grape vine, which only got him to the point where he could turn the damn thing on.

By the time Damien managed to arrive at what looked to be an airplane crash site, he was surprised to see the “Sith” standing up at the bottom of the crater its impact had created. The Sith was in a justifiably angry state, as it dusted off the dirt and detritus. Angrily the Sith finished, by ripping off its torn and shredded outer hooded robe, which revealed the statuesque-like amazonian form of an orange-skin, female “Twi'lek”...,

“Twi’leks”, which are sometimes referred to by xenophobes as “Tail-Heads”, are a tall, near-human species whose most notable feature is a pair of long prehensile tentacle-like appendages that protruded from their skulls, called “lekku”. Although “Twi'leks” normally had two “lekku”, some individuals had four. A damaged “lekku” could cause serious harm to the “Twi'lek's” health. “Twi'leks” have skin that spans a vast array of colors, including white, orange, yellow, green, pink, blue, purple, black, gray, and red.

They hailed from the planet of “Ryloth”, in the “Outer Rim Territories”, and female “Twi'leks” are particularly favored as slaves. “Twi'leks” are one of the most common species in “the galaxy”.

Damien couldn’t help but compare the visage of this “Sith Lord”, and that of his all-time #1 fantasy crush, Darth Talon....,

“Darth Talon” first appeared in “Star Wars” in: Legacy #2, a series that followed Luke's descendant Cade Skywalker over 130 years after “Return of the Jedi”. The series is written by “John Ostrander” and “Jan Duursema” and is revered as one of the best series under the “Star Wars” name. “Darth Talon” is part of a group called “the One Sith”, a hidden organization of “Sith” based in ancient “Sith doctrine”. She was an instantly popular character and featured on the cover of “Legacy issue #1”, despite not being in it. The first few issues of “Legacy” now fetch very high prices whenever they come up for sale.

Now Damien was face to face with a real-life flesh and blood carbon copy, that was so similar they could be twins. There were only two differences, the most noticeable was of course her orange coloring, and her full-body, rust-colored tattoos. Which were not tribal in nature like the ones covering Darth Talon, instead these were symmetrically geometric in design and layout. Which, he found greatly synergizing with his own sense of aesthetic appeal. Her other noticeable difference was the number of “lekku” she had. Where “Darth Talon” had two, this gorgeous orange-skin demoness had four.

Damien's heart was palpitating wildly as he figuratively drooled over what could only be the absolute most breath-taking female, he’d ever laid eyes on. She was tall, full of long lean muscle, with a killer set of hips, and two gorgeously powerful long legs. Her overall physique was like that of an Olympian swimmer, while she carried herself with the statuesque demeaner of a “Top-fashion runway model”.

Her attire was anything but functional, it had obviously been carefully designed to reveal the most optimized amount of skin, without breaking any decency laws. It was like how sexy lingerie is designed to be enthralling, instead of functional, only this was taking it to a whole new level. The motive that necessitated such a reveal was bluntly evident in the visually stunning showcase, of her full-body tattoos, which left only the ones covering her most coveted bits a mystery....,

Damien was jarred out of his revelry as the “Sith”, ignited her lightsaber and readied her attack. Wanting to try and stop this before it started, he reached for her with the “Force”, just as he did a moment ago when he tossed her. However, this time she was prepared, and sent out a “Force pulse” that blew away his grip on her. It was an impressive show of “Force control”, and he planned on stealing the move from her after this.

Having failed, Damien changed his target, aiming for her lightsaber, successfully yanking it out of her hand, then disassembling it into its component pieces, before scattering them all around. Focusing too much on his task, he missed the opportunity to stop her from slipping his own “lightsaber” free from his grasp.

Damien watched momentarily stunned, as she didn’t hesitate to abandon her lightsaber, and charge him. Her reasoning played out beautifully, as she caught his own “lightsaber”, mid charge, and in an impressively graceful maneuver delivered a perfectly executed overhead strike meant to bisect him vertically.

Damien, however, didn’t panic, he ignited all six of his “lightsaber” claws, and crossing them over his head in a textbook defensive guard. After successfully catching the descending energy blade, and while the “Sith” was greatly shocked. He took advantage of the moment of surprise, to execute a textbook disarming technique, stripping the “lightsaber” from her hands. He immediately disassembled it just as he had done to hers, scattering the pieces all over the ground...,

“Neat trick, Magic Man, but your actions betray you.”

Damien was surprised that he understood her words, only belatedly realizing it was “Galactic Basic” in which she spoke. She once again charged with all the swift precision of a striking cobra. Her unarmed combat abilities were incredibly ruthless and lethal by design, as every strike was meant to either kill or permanently disable her enemy. Her attack angles were made incredibly tricky, by her flexibility. While her high proficiency in acrobatics made her a difficult opponent to adapt to.

She was swift, nimble, and each strike was powerful beyond reason, thanks to “the Force” infusing her with strength. Damien genuinely found her to be an engaging sparring partner, exchanging technique for technique. Even though she was trying intently to kill or maim him with every one of her strikes, he took the opportunity of an opening to take her to the ground. It was unfortunate that she had been right about his goals. He needed her to be alive to talk, and knowing this made her even more dangerous.

Once he had her on the ground, she proved as elusive and evasive as a slippery eel, becoming an even greater challenge to grapple with. Even so, he was greatly enjoying the close contact, and challenging competition they were having to establish dominance. She was highly proficient in escaping, as well as swift and flexible when it came to transitioning her body. He on the other hand might as well have been a plank in comparison for what his flexibility added up to.

Eventually he ran her down, capturing first her left wrist and locked it with the back of his right knee. Next, he caught her right wrist in his right hand, locking it down. He then captured her left ankle in a leg lock, utilizing his right leg. Lastly, he captured her right ankle in his left hand, officially pinning her body in place with his own “Force enhanced cybernetic strength”. Even so, she was still wiggling and writhing under him, refusing to submit while struggling with all her might and effort...,

“Submit. You are going to damage yourself if you keep this up.”

“Never. You will have to kill me, Magic Man.”

“Um. What color were your eyes before they turned yellow?”

“Shut up, Magic Man. What do eyes have to do with anything?”

“Nothing at all. I just cannot stop imagining you with orange ones. Thats all.”

“They were the light brown of sand. Did I make you happy, Magic Man?”

“You did. I have no doubt they were just as beautiful as you. Was your name as beautiful, as well?”

“Enough. Kill me or fuck me. Just stop talking.”

“Interesting fact, I am incapable of taking either of those actions. Which only leaves talking. So, what Sith name have you been given?”

“Awe, poor little, Magic Man. Did someone chew off your penis. Pity, I was hoping for that pleasure.”

“Ouch. You have the looks of a goddess, and the tongue of a devil. Not bad, how about I call you..., Darth Minx, that’s perfect, it suits you well. What do you think, do you like it, Darth Minx?”

“No. You can’t. Never. Only a Master can anoint an Apprentice.”

“I know. I can be your Master. It won’t even prevent you from trying to kill me.”

“You are not qualified, Magic Man.”

“Oh really. Are you not the least bit curious, why I was able to so easily defeat you?”

“It is simple. You are better than I, Magic Man.”

“No, I’m not. In fact, your talent and skill surpass mine in many aspects. At the very least our duel should have ended in a draw. Yet, here you are at my mercy. I can only think of one explanation for this.”

“I was careless, what other reason would there be, Magic Man?”

“No. This has nothing to do with skill or talent. It has everything to do with faith. So, to answer this, you only need to ask yourself one simple question; “Who do I serve?” I’ll even give you a hint: “The Dark Side” is not the correct answer.”

“So. How does any of this explain anything, Magic Man?”

“It is basic “Force” fundamentals, my dear Darth Minx. All living beings serve “the Force” in one way or the other. It is even more prevalent for those of us who utilize “the Force” directly. We each at some point made a choice, who to serve, the “Light”, the “Balance”, or the “Dark”. For you, it was in that moment before your “lightsaber” bled crimson. You made your choice. You made a commitment to serve and to be of service. A commitment which you have obviously turned your back on. Which has now led you to me, and your defeat.”

“Nice story, Magic Man. But I fail to see a point to it all. What service were you called to perform?”

“The “Light” guides me to destroy you..., “Balance” guides me to make the choice, myself ..., The “Dark” guides me to take your power for myself and become stronger.”

“Destruction then. Go ahead and make your cut, Magic Man.”

The “Twi'lek” then tilted her head, exposing the vulnerable flesh of her graceful neck, even deliberately moving aside her “lekku” for Damien. He released her right wrist, and wrapped his hand around her slender, delicate throat, while brushed his lips against her cheek ...,

“I find it adorable that you think, I'd destroy something so precious as you.”

“You. You cannot be such a fool to spare me. You must know I will just try to kill you again and again.”

“Fool I may be, but my choice has been made. Call me Master. Take the name, Darth Minx. Swear to serve me to my last breath, and I will free you to return to your employer. Deny me, and I will collar you and have you dance for me. Your choice: Apprentice or Pet."