I am very sorry with the delay. The place where I work didn't give me the permission for a leave. Putting that aside, please enjoy this chapter!

P.S.: Star Wars is not mine, Familiar of Zero is not mine, and unfortunately, the Force is not mine.

CHAPTER II

DOUBLE TROUBLE IN THE SUMMONING

In the land far, far away from the touch of Imperial cruel clutch…

….was a girl by the name of Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere.

The said girl, who had the most vibrant hair color of pink, was standing on a picturesque field of grass, along with her classmates. Little did she know that her day was going to turn upside down.

Louise was anxious.

Well, more than anxious to be exact. The little girl was extremely upset and distressed, as her mind was assaulted non-stop by horror and uncertainty.

The day was clear and relatively pleasant, with the sun shone mildly upon the grassy field of Tristain Academy of Magic, and with a slight breeze of wind caressing every blade of grass on the field. The mood and morale of every student, teacher and servant alike in the Academy were on its peak; except for Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere, who was shuddering in terror presently. Despite of the infectious jubilant mood all around her, the disposition of the youngest of the Vallieres was darkened with every breath of her lungs.

She was extremely worried. The intensity of her uneasiness made her stomach hurt and her head heavy. The pink-haired little noble felt a giant hot lump of iron suddenly clogged her throat, suffocating her from the inside of her neck. Every gulp that she took felt very painful, yet it was just one from her many agonies that tortured the little Tristainian from within. The pounding of her heart, like a sledgehammer crashing to the wall, rocked her petite frame. She was trembling in panic as her name was closer and closer to be called.

"What will happen if I fail? What will happen if the spell doesn't work?" Louise's mind was riddled with such questions. Her morale was worsened, as dark imagination born from her thoughts drained her courage and reason from her spirit.

"No, no, no! Louise! Get hold of yourselves! You are a Valliere, for Brimir's sake! Rule of the Steel, remember the rule of the steel!" Her mind frantically held off the creeping gloom by recalling her standing as one of the most influential nobility in the land of Tristain.

"But if I fail, I will surely be expelled! Mother will disown me, and I will be thrown away from home! I will live like a peasant!" Her efforts to allay the negative thoughts were instantly flushed into nothingness. Like a massive torrent destroying a cracked dam, Louise's mental fortitude crumbled, as images of her failure and the grim consequence of such matter flooded her mind.

"A RHYME DRAGON!" a fellow second-year student of the Tristain Academy of Magic yelled, which followed by a thunderous applause by other students. Apparently one of Louise's classmates, the genius and extremely talented Tabitha, who was her rival in academic knowledge of magic….in written, had successfully finished her summoning ritual by calling forth a beautiful blue dragon. From the summoned beast's outer appearance, Louise recognized that the rhyme dragon was still on its infancy. However, its sheer size and magnificence managed to drove Louise into jealousy. Her envy was further fueled when she saw the gentle dragon lowered her head benignly for the blue-haired sorcerer to pat and scratch. The dragon purred cutely like a cat as it relished in the comfort of the soft, kindly strokes given by Tabitha. Although her face was devoid of emotion, Louise somehow could felt the growing pride in her heart.

"As expected of you, Mademoiselle Tabitha!" The bald middle-aged man with small spectacles on the bridge of his nose, praised the blue-haired little girl with his own clapping of his said teacher in simple blue garb of a traditional mage was Jean Colbert, Louise's ONLY favorite teacher in Tristain Academy of Magic. The bald-headed man might be one of the most neutral teachers of magic in the academy, but he held great esteem to Louise.

When almost every educator magical arts in the academy had affirmed the youngest of the Vallieres as a complete failure in aspects of magic, Jean Colbert stood stoutly in her defense, quoting Louise's extraordinary aptitude in theory of magic as proof to her brilliance to be one of the best mage in Halkegina. Unfortunately, Colbert's earnest justification fell short in everyone's ears, including thefirst-years, the third-years, and the faculties; even her family members and the servants of her house were not spared from knowing the little girl's ineptitude.

"So, her affinity is wind, huh?" a busty red head spoke in a tone that truly aggravated the little pink-haired girl. Walking beside the red-head with its four legs was a big red salamander with a small flame on the tip of its long tail. "I already knew it. She's always the talented one, isn't she, Zero?" The girl deliberately emphasized the last word with stronger tone.

"What do you want, Zerbst!" Louise coldly answered back to the tall, tan-skinned girl. The said person in the standard white uniform, black short skirt and the black cloak of the second-year students was Kirche Augusta Frederica Von Anhalt-Zerbst, or just "Zerbst" for short. The girl was a noble that hailed from Germania, an upstart country which recently rose in status and power as one of the most powerful countries in the land of Halkegina.

Although its common folks and aristocrats were boorish and rather lacking in decorum and civility like those in Tristain, Gallia and Albion, Germania was the only country which possessed the mightiest military strength in the entire Halkegina. Because of such fact, it was not an odd thing to find the Germanian nobles acted arbitrarily in many places in Halkegina, including its small and unfortunate neighbor, which was Tristain. It was expected that such powerful country, like Germania would certainly expand its borders and in turn, swallow the weak and small Tristain into its fold. However, due to the intervention from the pope of the Holy Romalian Empire, Tristain annexation could be prevented with a peace treaty, although it was not without certain arrangement that certainly and slightly detrimental to Tristain's interest.

Like the average citizen of Germania, Kirche Augusta Frederica Von Anhalt-Zerbst possessed a certain trait of pridefulness that was contrary with her flirtatious character. Although the Germanian nobles were considered to be as brutish as their peasantries, the red-head beauty was certainly a candy for an eye. Such thing could be seen in her sheer height, her beautiful red-colored long hair, and her proportionate, well developed form. Her curvaceous figure was tightly covered in the white shirt, with two buttonholes on the top left unbuttoned. Such manner of fashion was intentional in order for the beautiful Germanian noble to be not suffocated in the rather tiny and tight uniform. Still, the slightly unbuttoned white shirt was barely preventing her breasts from spilling out completely.

"What an attitude, Zero! Is that how the Tristanian nobles act to their peers?" The red-haired Germanian scoffed, which Louise retaliated with a mute scowl. "I only want to see how you are doing, that's all." Kirche continued with a fake sweetness.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Zerbst! I know you Germanian are always up to no good." The pink-haired Tristain little noble answered back with a more aggressive tone. Her witty remark unfortunately, had no effect on the Germanian.

"Hah, if you think your insult has worked, you are utterly mistaken, Zero. Besides, what's not good about us Germanian, anyway?" Kirche said while pushing her enormous chest forward, jiggling her two mammaries slightly and making the petite pink-haired girl fuming with envy. The little girl unconsciously moved her hand to her own chest, only to disappointedly find out that she was losing severely to the Germanian.

Noticing how furious Louise's envious stare was, and where her hands were, Kirche launched another salvo of her mocking to the already fuming Tristainian.

"Maybe it was just YOU who have problem with me." She sighed in fake sadness, wiping a fake tear from her eyes. "Such thing was expected, a true and talented beauty like me will always be scorned by the likes of you, Zero, zero talent and zero sex-appeal."

"SHUT UP! I don't need those stupid cow-udders!" Louise angrily replied. The last comment from the Germanian noble bit hard on her mind. How dare this brute spoke her so! "Tristainian beauty is not superficial, unlike you Germanian brutes! Besides, my magic is greater than you, you stupid barrel-chested dunce!"

"Then, prove it, Zero! Prove it to us that you are not without magic." The Germanian goaded the little Tristainian. In appearance, Kirche seemed like a mean bully who liked to pick the pink-haired girl. But in heart, Kirche was a golden-hearted girl, who knew the weight of Louise's talent. The red-haired Germanian actually recognized her brilliance in magic arts, even though all that she could do was explosions even from the simplest spell. In truth, she was trying to encourage the girl; pushing her to outgrow herself from her degrading moniker. However, since there was a long history of bloody feud between the family line of Zerbst and Valliere, the Germanian had to resort into the tactic of reverse psychology.

"But wait, you don't even know your affinity yet, do you Zero? And you never perform a proper spell even if it is the simplest of spells. How can you ever hope to summon a familiar, eh Zero?"

"I know my affinity, Zerbst!" Louise lied as she put a false confident front. "Just you wait! I'll show you and the entire school of my affinity when I summon my brilliant and magnificent familiar, the one that will certainly outdo your overgrown red lizard!"

"Hey! You can mock me and my body, but you can never mock my wonderful Flame!" The Germanian quickly lowered herself to the giant red salamander that circled around her feet. She picked up the beast and hugged it lovingly, making the lizard croaked happily. "You are the best familiar in the world, aren't you Flame?" Kirche rubbed her face affectionately to her familiar's head. The beast croaked happily as a reply.

"Whatever, Zerbst." Louise said disgustedly as she turned her back from the Germanian and her familiar. Even though Louise was angry with the busty, red-haired girl, the little pink-haired Tristainian somehow felt her mood lightened after the heating squabble with her sworn enemy. Uncomfortable thoughts crept into the little Tristainian's mind. Was this a ploy to make her lightened up? No, it can't be! The Zerbsts were always the lifetime enemies of the Valliere! There's no way in the world that the foul-mouthed Germanian try to cheer her up.

"Mademoiselle Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere, please step forward and perform the summoning ritual!"The bald-headed mage exclaimed, which made Louise to turn her head to the direction of the origin of the voice.

Apparently, the central ground where the summoning ritual was to be performed had been cleared from Tabitha and her majestic familiar, and it was now waiting for the youngest of the Vallieres to enter and proceed with her beckoning of her own magical companion.

Hearing her name being called by the bald teacher, Louise felt coldness swept through her once again. It was her turn to summon her familiar at last, and now she felt her blood slowly froze within the veins of her body. However, this time, the uncomfortable sensation was milder than the previous one, making her wonder if her heated discussion with the flirtatious Germanian had something to do with it. Still, wasting no time, the petite pink-haired girl clutched tightly her wooden wand and strode proudly to the center ground, where the summoning ritual was to be performed. Bearing her newly acquired confidence, she presented to everyone on the field the air of high nobility in herself when she arrived to her appointed destination.

"Oh no, It's Zero!" One of the students cried out in a deliberate terror. "What are we going to do? She's going to kill us all!"

Soon, the other mocking and verbal abuses followed the initial insult. A chorus of jeering was erupted from Louise's fellow students. They were her classmates, but they were far from being her friends.

"Just go home, Valliere! You don't have the talent!"

"You are Zero and always be a Zero! Spare yourselves from humiliation and return to where you come from!"

"You shame us all! Tristain is better off without you!"

Louise gritted the concealed teeth behind her lips. Her brows were twitching lightly, and her vibrant pink-colored locks of hair were starting to rise in anger. Those insults from Louise's peers, the fellow second-years of Tristain Academy of Magic, did not sit well with the youngest of the Vallieres. However, the petite Tristain noble did not give her insulters the pleasure of watching her suffered under their verbal abuses, nor did she let them relish with her retaliation. She kept the common arrogant attitude that the nobility possessed, in the midst of the students jeering and mocking. Her face was hardened with anger, but her steel-like fortitude overcame her burning desire to exact vengeance.

"SILENCE!" Jean Colbert roared. His kindly countenance was transformed into a furious visage that could be likened as a demon. Ireful nerves popped out on the glistening skin of his head, and furrows appeared on his face as he put on the scowling expression of wrath. The bald teacher's wooden staff stood threateningly in his hand, ready to explode in order to silence the commotion.

"Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere is an esteemed member from the Valliere family line, and the respected student of this academy. I will not stand when you all callously insult one of your peers!"

The second year students were quickly silenced. Although Jean Colbert was seemingly harmless and rather odd, due to his bizarre experiments, there was something about the balding man that when he became furious, his countenance turned terrifyingly deadly. When it happened, it would certainly for the student's best interest to not testing further the length of the bald man's patience. There was something about the furious teacher that inspired terror and compliance from the students.

In rather indignant fashion, the second year pupil of the magic Academy stopped their mocking to the petite pink-haired girl. They were all unsatisfied and clearly unhappy to the fact that the untalented pink-haired was the favorite of the hairless teacher of the academy. Even though the order from Jean Colbert was absolute, and the seriousness on his face promised of severe reprisals for every transgression, the students were still holding a grudge against the one that they called as 'Zero', and secretly, they were plotting mean affronts for the little Tristain noble.

Looking satisfied after seeing her classmates got reprimanded for their verbal abuses toward her; Louise launched a smug grin toward her insulters before she turned to her defender.

"Monsieur Colbert." Louise's cute hand tugged the back of Colbert's blue robe, which made the bald-headed teacher to turn his face to her. She silently shook her head to the teacher, who quickly grasped the meaning of such mute gesture and sighed slightly. His terrifying countenance softened and returned to his normal, gentle ones.

"May I proceed with the summoning ritual?" The voice of the youngest of the Vallieres was full of confidence and courage, surprising even Jean Colbert. Seeing Louise in such manner, the bald teacher felt uneasily guilty; he admitted in his heart that he had previously doubted that the ritual would do anything, but good result for the young mage. Seeing the firm resolution in her eyes, Jean Colbert could not help but feeling proud in his heart. Surely the young one before him would be this age's greatest mage in Halkegina, even though Brimir himself had not blessed her with the knowledge of her own affinity!

"You may, mademoiselle Valliere." Jean Colbert stated to the young mage as he momentarily placed his hand on her little shoulder. "May Brimir grant you the partner that will shout out loud of your hidden talent, Louise." The bald teacher solemnly said, and promptly left the central area for the pink-haired girl to perform the ritual.

Feeling somewhat confident and happy, due to the Zerbst's unconventional motivational talk, and Professor Colbert's encouragement, Louise began to raise her wand until it was on the same level to her head. Her breathing was rhythmically calm and her mind was positively bright. Even though the image of her failure still looming, Louise felt that she could take on the world at the present moment.

Focusing her mind and tapping into her willpower, Louise swung her wand in an already practiced movement, and chanted the spell that she had been practicing for weeks.

"My name is Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere." The words flowed from her tiny mouth as easily as the air that she breathed. "Pentagon of the five elemental powers, heeds my summoning!"

Circular outlines of green light appeared on the ground, and it hummed with unseen power.

"Bring forth my chosen that exists somewhere in this vast universe."

The green glow of light from the magical formation on the ground brightened and rose to the air.

"My divine, beautiful, wise and powerful familiar, heed my call!"

Out of nowhere and in the middle of the air above the magical formation, a green sphere of energy appeared and began to expand. Its size kept on increasing for each passing moment. The crowd, including Jean Colbert and Kirche could only gasp and gulp nervously. Was this day the day that the one that called Zero finally broke her accursed luck as the most untalented mage? Or was this the day when they all meet their doom? Some of the students began to look for cover when they saw purple lightning bolts began to appear inside the giant sphere. Whine and yelps of terror began to arise, but Louise did not falter nor was she distraught.

"I wish from the very bottom of my heart, follow my guidance and APPEAR!" The young mage yelled the last phrase of her incantation and swung her wand downward. As the result, the giant, lightning-filled energy sphere that floated above her head crashed to the ground and exploded, engulfing every color in the blinding white.

"Well, another screw-up again. Perfect, just perfect, Louise." The pink haired girl berated herself. She did not know how long the time had passed since she woken up in the strange plane of total pallor. She could not feel, see or hear anything, for everything was completely white around her. She only remembered that she was previously performing her summoning ritual, which resulted in a massive explosion...again. "The good news is you probably killed yourselves with the mess-up spell, and murder the entire class in succession." The train of thought of the continued

"So this is the afterlife, huh? Not so bad after all. No more insults from Zerbst and others, no more scolding and punishment from mother, and no more…..hugs from big sis Cattleya." Sadness crept into the spirit of Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere. It was strange to find that even the spirit of the dead could suffer the formless, uncomfortable pain of sadness. In flesh, she would probably be in tears. However, in spirit, the only thing that she could produce was a soundless wail. She screamed and screamed, yet only silence came out from her spiritual mouth.

"I am a failure after all, in life and in death." The girl continued to wail, as the memories of her life passed before her sight. None of them was worthy to be called as an accomplishment. Failure followed with another failure, was the song of her life. She was a disappointment of the Valliere, and now she was dead.

"Wake up, youngling." A strange ethereal voice reverberated in the realm of total whiteness

"Huh."

"This is not the place that you should be." The voice spoke again, this time with a much commanding tone. "You destiny awaits you, little one. Wake up, now!"

"What? Who are you?"

"There is no much time. Follow the man that walks on the path of all, for your fate intertwines with him."

"I don't understand."

"Follow him." The voice weakened, and was slowly fading away. "Follow the one that kills the stars."

With the voice finally diluted into silence, the spirit of Louise Francoise Le Blanc De La Valliere was violently yanked by a powerful, invisible hand into the land of the living.

The little eyes of the pink-haired mage droopily opened, as she felt a strong tug on her shoulder; the shaking awakened her from her dead-like slumber. Not only that, the little mage also heard a loud shout calling out her name.

"Louise! Hey, Louise!" The half-awakened pink-haired girl recognized the concerned voice that called her name. It was the bald teacher's. "Are you alright? Hang in there!"

"Huh." The Tristainian answered senselessly. The little girl was still trying to return to her senses after a brief visit to probably the afterlife. Although her sight was blurred, she could see the bespectacled face of Jean Colbert, who was now looking rather relieved.

"Thank Brimir, you are alright!" The teacher broke a smile on his mud-stained face. He was extremely relieved to find the little girl unharmed, only shaken.

"W-what….happened?" Louise groggily asked as she was helped by the balding professor to rise to the sitting position. The blurriness of her vision was quickly fading with few blinks of her eyes. With her eyesight restored, Louise could see a cloud of dirt spreading all over the field, including the area where she previously stood to perform the ritual. She could also hear the coughing and wheezing of her classmates as they choked on the dirt in the air.

"It's jus-"

"I tell you what happened!" A chubby second-year student with a dirtied blonde hair interrupted the balding teacher from finishing his sentence. His face was flecked with dirt and dust. "It's you! Your screw-up happened! Seriously, are you trying to kill us, Zero?!"

The smoking cloud of dirt started to thin-out, and from it, came out the second-year mages, who all had the spiteful gaze on their eyes, and all of them were directed to the pink-haired girl.

"Go back to the rock where you came from, Zero!" The blonde girl with twin curly drill-like hair, shouted nastily toward Louise.

"A failure like you will never be a real mage!" A male blonde student with an open shirt that showed his chest, pointed a finger accusingly toward the berated girl.

"You suck, Zero!" Another vicious verbal abuse followed, and soon the entire class voiced their discontent and overwhelmed Jean Colbert's attempt to appease the angry crowd.

"You are lucky that you are a Valliere, Zero! Otherwise, my father will have you hanged!"

"You are only fit to be a servant girl, Zero!"

The last comment pierced her heart. Her eyes were sorely tempted to spill out the tears that she had been holding back. But remembering what her mother had said that tears were signs of weakness and that the Vallieres never tolerated weaknesses, Louise quickly turned her eyes away from the crowd. Her head was hung, with her face concealed in gloom. The balding professor saw this and quickly intervened to stop the harassment from going on, yet only to fail for the mob's angry shouts were spreading fast like a forest fire.

While the insults and berating from her peers continued, Louise cursed her ill-luck inwardly. Biting her lower lips deeply while trying her best to hold the tears from pouring out from her eyes, the youngest of the Vallieres regretted that she had not been killed in her latest foul-up. It would have been better for her if she had never woken up. Was this the 'destiny' that the voice promised? Was it her destiny to face humiliation of being expelled and disinherited? How could Brimir be so cruel to her, to let her live in such bitter and disgraceful life?

Louise's self-wallowing continued as she sat dejectedly beside the large smoking site, where she had failingly performed the summoning ritual. Now she would never knew her affinity ever again, nor would she possessed the majestic and powerful magical partner.

"FZZZZZZZZZZZZ!"

The strange hissing sound that was followed by an odd buzzing hum broke Louise from her gloomy thoughts. Gasps and nervous gulps were heard from her insulters. The pink-haired girl quickly wiped her glistening eyes and took a quick glance to her classmates, who all possessed the uniformed expression of shock and alarm. Some even brought out their wands and staves in unconscious anticipation.

"W-what is that?" The fat student, who was the first to mock Louise, pointed his fore finger tremblingly toward the still rising smoke that covered the summoning ground in its dirty veil.

"FZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" the same strange hissing sound and the buzzing hum that followed it happened once again, and this time there were more of it.

Louise, who was still feeling down from her supposed failure, quickly turned her eyes to the direction where her portly insulter pointed, and found herself to be utterly stunned. Each of her eyes became as wide as a plate when she saw strange lights coming from within the thick smoke of dirt.

Louise swore that all of her long, pink hair was jumping straight from her scalp for a moment, when she saw floating poles of light, glowing from within the shadowy screen of smoke and dirt. There were in total of four of those floating light sticks, which divided in two pairs of different colors. One pair had the color as red as the bright crimson sun that set into the horizon; the other pair had the color as black as the night, with white-silverish outlines like a bright star. Those sticks of light swung and spun furiously, their swinging reverberated their unearthly drone loudly. The veil of dirt and smoke began to thin-out on the said area, revealing two shadowy figures that seemingly wielded those sticks of light.

Louise's heart skipped a beat as she looked upon the two unknown figures from behind the screen of smoke. Her sadness was quickly forgotten and replaced with the ever swelling hope. Were those two shadowy figures her familiars? Wait; was it even possible for a mage to summon two familiars at once? What were those things? And what were those sticks of light that they held in their hands?

"Who cares? I can finally summon not only a familiar, but two familiars at once! I am not a failure!" Louise screamed internally with gladness. Finally, she could prove to her insulters, especially to that brute of a Germanian, that she possessed an unparalleled magical talent that surpassed theirs. She too, could find out her affinity at last. Oh, how her heart was leaping with jubilance, as the images of the Little Tristain noble strutted with pride and glory before her jealous classmates, ran wild in her head.

Her joy, which could not be contained simply with a single smile, manifested in a single tear that flowed away from her right eye.

However, such joyfulness of the little pink-haired Tristainian was about to vanish.

The unknown figures began to spurt out angry shouts and yells toward one another in unfamiliar tongue that Louise and her classmates knew not. The intensity of the rage in their unrecognized speech grew to an even more dangerous level, while the swerving of their respective light sticks escalated to a more vicious turn. Even though the figure of Louise's summoned being were still obscured by the thin screen of dirt, the little summoner managed to glance at the purple-bluish lightning curls, which jumped and coiled around her mysterious familiars' sticks of light.

All of the sudden and out from nowhere, a strange but unpleasant thought hit the little Tristainian. Louise began to suspect that those sticks of light that were wielded by her supposed familiars, were not some kind of outlandish accessories. Their vicious swing and turn displayed the great animosity between Louise's summoned creatures, and it became clear to the pink haired girl that the glowing sticks of light in the hands of her summoned being were means to end one another's lives. They were weapons of an unknown origin; alien blades that promised of swift and unforgiving death to anyone who falls prey upon them. Her suspicion was proven true when her two summoned beings, in a brutal fluidity, swung their blades of light and clashed them against one another. Louise's summoned creatures entered into a mortal showdown of strength as they tried to overpower one another;flickers and flashes of light jumped lethally from the point where the blades met.

"Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!" Louise yelled louder than the gasps and shrieks of the students in the background. She was both worried and embarrassed. How could her summoned creatures be out of control after being initially summoned? She would be a laughing stock for the entire class. The little Tristainian noble also did now want her newly summoned beings to kill one another, not after the difficulties that she had to endure to perform one proper spell. She had not even properly finished the binding ritual, for Brimir sake!

Her yelling finally bore fruit as the two mysterious familiars broke from the vicious blade lock and jumped to the opposing side from one another.

"Stupid familiars! I order you all to stand down immediately!" Louise commanded her two mysterious familiars while stomping her foot hard on the ground. Louise doubted that her command was understood by the two mysterious figures;yet at the very least, she got the attention from both of her summoned beings.

"Good, now come to-" Louise's words were interrupted by the sharp buzzing hum from a spinning blade of crimson beam that flew toward her. Its unyielding speed, reaching for the neck of pink-haired girl, signified the incoming demise of the little Tristainian's life.

"NO!" Starkiller shouted, as he utilized the power of the Force to pull the strange, pink-haired child toward him; missing the evil clone's saber throw from claiming the little one's Force master's last minute action had spared the child's head from being severed by the Sith's crimson lightsaber. The crimson spinning death passed almost harmlessly, as it missed its intended target and singed the dirt ground before returning back to its master's clutch.

Starkiller deftly deactivated one of his lightsabers, and dashed toward the Force-pulled child. He quickly caught the flying and screaming kid unceremoniously in one hand, while his other hand still clutched tightly on the hilt of his black lightsaber. The silver armored warrior had his one arm coiled around the waist of the pink-haired child, who was now kicking and screaming relentlessly. Starkiller did not understand one bit the words that came out from the little one's tiny mouth; he did not even know whether those words were cuss words or thanks. All that he knew was that the high tone in the young one's voice indicated that the child was a girl.

The little girl's screaming, kicking and pounding exhibited her wish to be put down. Unfortunately, Starkiller was unable to do so as he leaped sideways to avoid another vicious saber throw from his Sith twin.

"Foolish Jedi! Why do you complicate yourselves with that insignificance?" The evil clone of Galen Marek mocked in his usual spiteful tone, while catching his returning lightsaber with his hand. The hilt of the crimson lightsaber was welcomed into his grasp;the energy blade was skillfully spun afterward by the dark clone. "That youngling's life is meaningless! Your heroic attempt will only serve to weaken you and kill you!"

"No one is insignificant or meaningless before the Force." Starkiller sternly replied as he put the little one down to the grassy floor. The pink-haired child still pounded and kicked the armor-plated shins and torsos, while blurting out incomprehensible languages. The blows and the words of the little pink-haired girl had no serious effect on the Force master, who was garbed in the Kaminoan Experimental Armor; yet it certainly made foolish the seriousness of the present situation.

Activating the inactive lightsaber to life, the girl stopped and stiffened as she witnessed the black light with outlines of bright white sprung out from the hilt of Starkiller's lightsaber. The startled girl fell silent and immediately took a step back away with horror in her face. She quickly turned her gaze to the faceless white plate of Starkiller's mask and was agape to find the face was devoid of all emotion. Starkiller nodded slightly to the pink haired which she replied in the same fashion before she took another step back more from the Force master in silver.

"Only the Sith see weaknesses in everything, hence, weakening themselves in the process!" Starkiller exclaimed to his opponent with one of his black lightsaber pointing at the said man. "Look! Your wounded arm is the proof of such truth!"

"Humph, this is simply a scratch, nothing more!" The Sith answered back while swinging his crimson lightsaber sinto his habitual reverse grip. His tone of anger couldn't mask the fact that the swinging of the energy blade in his injured hand was slower than the other blade in his uninjured ones.

"Besides, you are a just a pathetic failure! A reject that Vader chose to destroy! How can you h-"

"Just give up!" Starkiller interjected furiously. By this time, Starkiller knew that his injured opponent, even though was still dangerous and powerful, was starting to wane. The damage that the Sith suffered on his hand had barred him from letting loose his monstrous skills in the art of twin Lightsabers combat. "You are at disadvantage, Sith!"

"Maybe, maybe not." Twisted smile was formed on the pale, cruel face of the clone of Galen Marek, as he turned his face toward the crowd in the vicinity. Immediately, Starkiller felt strong lurch in his stomach as foreboding uneasiness crept into his mind. His brain quickly interpreted the Sith's words and body language into threatening signs that he had feared the most.

"Your previous action had shown your weakness, Jedi! I've told you, haven't I? That it will only kill in the end." The Sith turned his glances ominously, from Starkiller to the crowd, then to Starkiller again. His grip on the hilts of his weapons was threateningly relaxed, as if the evil clone was ready to let them loose upon the bystanders.

"You wouldn't!" Starkiller yelled while the grip on the hilts of his weapons tightened. His intuition was proven true. The sinister intention of the dark clone was displayed clearly in his flaming auburn eyes, which gleamed most notoriously. The Sith villain was targeting the innocent lives!

In the past, Starkiller might have little to no regard to human lives other than those of his friends. He might not even care about the collateral damages and the innocent casualties that he had caused during his days as the Alliance's "Force adept of fortune". Yet, as days went on, and with the ever growing experience from missions after missions, Starkiller began to realize if he was to keep on treading on such violent path, he would certainly turn into the likes of Vader, who viewed human lives from a very cruel point of view. He despised the dark lord greatly and he hated the idea of turning into one in the greatest intensity. Starkiller was not some kind of rabid beast who could not differentiate friend from foe, and he was certainly not the type of a person who would use the power of the Force indiscriminately to wreak havoc and total annihilation to wherever he was set loose upon. Since the Force master was fighting for the sake of liberating the populace from the Tyrannical grip of the Emperor, doing such despicable act wantonly would certainly made him no better than the Emperor and his Force-damned minion, the notorious Darth Vader.

Through his communication with the Force and further aided by his mentor's furious advices, Starkiller finally saw his errors, and reformed himself to be more and more prudent in his actions. He started to see the lives of the people in different light; that they all shared the connection to the Force, no matter how miniscule such connection might be. Through meditation, Starkiller formed and held a rather simple understanding that viewed every life to be unmeasurable in worth, despite of their short and fleeting existence. Unlike the teaching of the Sith, the Force master acknowledged that each life in the galaxy, despite of the inequality between them, possessed the very power that formed the Force itself.

Since then, Starkiller became wiser in action. He would not employ deadly and destructive powers when the situation did not warrant such use of powers. The Force master too, would exercise mercy toward the enemy, if such thing was possible to be done. Although there was still a great deal of cases where Starkiller had to unleash his furious might upon the supporters of the Empire, there was also a great number of reports where the Force master selflessly throw himself to danger in order to rescue innocent lives. All in all, Starkiller had a neutral stance on the matter of taking lives. He preferred if he could protect the lives of the innocent rather than condemning them in early demise. But when a certain situation arose,the Force master would act adroitly in either ending or rescuing lives around him.

Therefore, it was not a strange thing if Starkiller was greatly alarmed when the Sith intended to murder the bystanders in order to goad the silver-armored warrior into a trap. It was not the Sith's ruse that truly concerned Starkiller, it was the safety of the unrecognized bystanders that were mostly younglings.

"Oh, I wouldn't, would I? The dark clone of Galen Marek said wickedly as his stance became even more precarious. Starkiller glared shadily toward his evil twin, as he became even warier at the dark clone's threatening behavior. The silver-armored Force master swiftly spun his grip on his lightsabers into his customary Shien reverse-grip; and in matter of seconds, he dashed toward the enemy afterward. Unfortunately, the enemy's intention had already manifested into action.

"Then, what about…THIS!" The dark clone yelled as he flung both of his lightsabers to the crowd. The horizontally spinning red blades of death dashed through the air while humming their signature drone; signifying their coming to take away lives in the most efficient speed. The energy blades were all poised-up and speeding evilly in the air, ready remove several heads from their bodies. Such thing would certainly be so if Starkiller did not interfere in the last minutes.

"HRRRAAGGHH!" Starkiller roared as he propelled his own black-colored lightsabers to intercept the red ones. The vertically spinning energy blades zoomed true to their aim for they met with the enemy's blades and clashed furiously in the mid-air. Sparks flew out at the impact, and the blades bounced back afterward. The spilling of the innocent blood was averted, but the danger had not yet ceased.

"Now DIE!" The Sith hurled purplish lightning bolts from his palms and fingers to the weaponless Starkiller. Taking the advantage of Starkiller's being distracted, the dark clone launched his attack in the form of the Force lightning. Unable to muster a proper defense in right time, the darting Starkiller was hit squarely in his chest by the villain's lightning discharge; and as the result, the attack successfully stopped him from going any further. The jagged streaks of electricity immediately appeared and enveloped the armored Force master.

"EIAARRGHHH!" Starkiller screamed of pain that burned into his entire body. He was quickly brought into his knees for the dreaded pain was unbearable for the Force master to endure. Even though he was covered from head to toe in a sophisticated suit of armor, it could only give a little protection from the fearsome might of the Dark side of the Force. He felt as if thousand burning needles flowed through his veins and into his nerves, frying and stabbing everything as they passed. He could even felt his lungs and his brain getting cooked from inside.

"Suffer! Suffer for your weakness!" The Sith reveled at his groveling opponent. His and Starkiller's lightsabers were lying dead on the ground. Apparently, after the lightsabers clashed against one another, their masters were engaged in another kind of duel that pitted their might in the Force, thus forgetting to pull their blades back. Consequently, both pairs of lightsabers fell after clashing against one another.

The words of the Sith was incomprehensible in Starkiller's ears. His sense of hearing had gone awry because of the pain from the lightning attack. The Force master struggled to fight off the pain and focus his mind in order to create a Force barrier to shield himself from the Sith's unrelenting barrage of fierce electricity. However, the pain was so intense that it rendered him to be unable in focusing his mind and calling forth the Force. Biting his lips, Starkiller tried to fight off the pain physically while the torture continued. White smokes began to rise from his armor-covered body, as Starkiller pushed himself with all his four from the ground.

"Your resistance is futile, Jedi! Despair, as your life ebbs aw-" The dark clone was interrupted by a passing fireball. Due to his heightened reflex, that further improved by the Force, the Sith evaded the massive ball of flame with relative ease. He somersaulted to the back, while pulling his distinct lightsabers from the ground.

As he landed, the dark clone spun himself to the direction where the attack was originated, while activating his lightsabers. The sight that the dark clone saw confused him, and aggravated him a little bit. Not far from the location where the dark clone fought with his Jedi opponent, was a bald man in a long blue robe, standing poised for combat; with a long wooden staff in his hand pointed furiously at the Sith. Behind him was a group of terrorized children, who all wore strange uniform of black cloaks and white shirts. Seeing the vicinity he was currently in, and also the presence of an adult with a class of younglings, the dark clone swiftly deduced that he and his opponent had been transported into some kind of educational facilty, with the bald adult as its educator and the young ones as its pupils.

The dark clone of Galen Marek also noticed the expression that the bald man wore. The teacher's face was furrowing angrily with his eyes staring threateningly toward the dark clone. The man's mouth let out words that were unrecognized by the Sith. But listening to the sharp and coarse tone that accompanied them, the dark side champion could grasp that the meaning of such unrecognized speech was far from being friendly.

"Are you the one that attacked me? And now, you dare to threaten me?!" The dark clone exclaimed in a dangerous tone to the bald man, while slowly approaching him. His pace was deliberately slow, for the dark clone intended to terrorize the group even further. The younglings' response was exactly as what the dark clone had always wanted: shrieks and screams of terror. There were only a few who stood defiantly to challenge the Sith, equipped only with some odd-looking twigs in their hands. Even so, their trembling limbs and blinking eyes betrayed their courageous front; the twinge of fear had stabbed deep into their hearts. It was clear that the show of his power during the duel had burned a memorable image into their brains.

The air was reek with fear, and the dark clone truly enjoyed it very much.

The teacher quickly barked the students to step back, which the younglings obeyed. The teacher displayed his concern and responsibility toward the safety of his students, by stepping forth before the approaching dark clone. The bald-headed teacher immediately changed his stance and pointed the upper end of his wooden staff threateningly toward the dark clone. His gesture was clear; he was challenging the Sith for the sake of his student's safety.

The dark clone of Galen Marek smirked amusedly. He would applaud the bald-headed challenger for his courage if he had been a worthy opponent. Sauntering slowly toward his soon-to-be victim, the dark clone readied his blades. His feral grin grew wider with every step.

Suddenly, without a warning, the bald man hurled another fireball toward the evil clone, only to be dispersed by the dark one so easily with a simple swing from his hand. The fiery sphere of flame was violently dissolved by a mighty burst of air, which made both the students and the teacher erupted in nervous gasps.

"You dare to attack me! A master of the dark side?!"The Sith clone yelled furiously toward his astonished attacker. He was intrigued by his opponent's wooden staff. It seemed that such unlikely weapon could produce elemental projectiles with considerable damage. The Sith too, could sense strange energy that closely resemble to the Force being channeled by the bald-headed man, from his surroundings into his wooden staff. The dark clone quickly suspected that his challenger had the ability to channel energy into his staff to produce such elemental attack.

Despite of his ever growing fascination toward the oddities of the mysterious place where he and his Jedi twin arrived, the dark clone did not falter from his intention to deliver a very painful demise to the insolent challenger. The Sith was quite displeased at the man's insolence for interrupting his fight with his force-sensitive twin; and he was going to make the audacious interferer paid the dear price for his foolishness. He increased his pace toward the bald-headed man, while swinging the lightsaber in his uninjured hand threateningly. "I'll show you what it means to cross me!"

The startled assaulter quickly regained himself from the shock and launched another flaming sphere from the tip of his staff, which only resulted with the fireball being dispersed in the similar fashion like the previous one. Even though his attacks were proven futile, the bald teacher stood firm on his ground in front of the students. He kept on bombarding the sauntering villain with more fireballs, trying to overwhelm the antagonist with the quantity of his assaults. Yet, before another attack was made, his staff was yanked violently from his hand by invisible force, which power equaled the strength of a hundred men.

Witnessing that his challenger had no intention to stop his futile attack, the dark clone decided to end his vain resistance once and for all. Tapping into the power of the dark side, the Sith extended his hand toward the wooden staff, and gripped it tightly with the Force. With the swung of his hand, the dark clone wrenched the staff from his attacker's hand, staggering the bald-headed man and leaving him weaponless.

"Taste the power of the darkside!" The dark clone, using the momentum of his opponent' shock, unleashed a powerful streams of lightning upon the bald-headed man. Without his weapon, and refusing to evade from the Sith's lightning in fear of harming his student, the stalwart teacher was directly hit by the purple-bluish thunder bolts. Screaming at the top of his voice as the sting of the lethal electricity bit into his flesh, the protector was finally brought down to his knees. He tried to resist the villain's attack, but the pain was too tremendous to be endured. Soon, the man slumped to the ground and jerked uncontrollably, as bolts and sparks of lightning unrelentingly and mercilessly whipped the unfortunate man's body.

The terrified younglings could only voice their terror with more shrieking. Seeing how helpless their teacher against the unknown villain, the students reluctantly yet frightfully backed away. Few with grave concern drawn on their faces,tremblingly stepped out from the crowd with odd little sticks in their hands, as if they were trying to take up the mantle of their fallen protector.

The dark clone smiled evilly, as he relished on the dread of the younglings. Their shrieks, accompanied by the screams of the dying man, were like music to his ears. He could see their faces drowned in despair and helplessness as they all witnessed how great the suffering of their teacher was. He could also see an odd winged beast of blue color, trembling and cowering behind the crowd, with its massive forearms sheltering its head. Be it from beasts or from men, the thickness of their fear was rich in the air; and it gave the dark clone more and more power to torture his fallen opponent even further.

Usually, the fearsome might of the Sith lightning would kill its victim outright with its extreme intensity. But for the dark clone, he used such dark power of the Force to extend the suffering of his foe. It would not be long when the power of the dark side took its toll on the unfortunate victim. Soon, the physical appearance of the bald-headed prey would deform as the destructive might of the Sith lightning routed every cells within his body. The dark clone, disregarding the stinging wound on his injured arm, extended the injured limb to unleash another barrage of force lightning to his slumped foe. He intended to speed up the process before ending his victim's pathetic life.

However, before he could pump another round of energy from the dark side of the Force into his palm, his instinct screamed of imminent danger. Without having a chance to respond to the danger, the dark clone was pushed away by a powerful blast of air.

"Damned Sith-spawn!" The dark clone curse, as he pulled himself from the ground to regain his composure after being forcefully pushed by a powerful burst of pressurized air. "Why don't you just die already?!" He gritted his teeth menacingly as he looked upon his other foe, who wore silver suit of armor all over his entire body.

The said opponent was now standing in front of the slumped and shivering bald-headed man, putting himself between him and the dark clone. The Force master's imposing pose displayed his heroic intention; the silver armored opponent was now becoming the defender of the unknown crowd behind him. His twin black-colored lightsabers were held steady in his signature grip, ready to unleash their master's righteous wrath.

"I will not let you harm anymore innocent lives!" Starkiller coldly stated as he deactivated one of his lightsabers and brought it to his belt. Using his now-free hand, Starkiller pressed the button on the side of his helmet, and with a hiss, the lock of his helmet was unclamped. He then pulled off his helmet, and brought his concealed face to the light.

The dark clone was not surprised to see that his force-sensitive foe had the same face as his, for they were both the replicas of the rouge apprentice of Darth Vader. Still, there were stark differences between those twins. Starkiller possessed a much healthier complexion that his dark side counterpart, and instead of flaming auburn eyes, he had a deep brown eyes, who was now blazing with wrathful sparks of blue.

Looking at his own face before him, the dark clone couldn't help but getting angrier for such face in his opposite direction, which was still devoid from the complete control from the dark side, sorely reminded him of the weakness that plague every replica of the weakling apprentice of the dark lord. The Sith clenched the handle of his lightsabers tightly with his fingers around them. Although such blight of a weakness did not afflicted the Sith, he still couldn't stand looking at it, especially when it strutted before his face with a suit of armor and a pair of lightsabers.

"I'll end you, right here and right now!" Starkiller let down his helmet, which dropped to the ground with a light thud. He pulled back the lightsaber that rested on his belt and activated the weapon once again. "Even if it is the last thing that I do!" He continued while readying himself in his Jarkai stance.

"You could never kill Vader! How can you ever hope to kill me?!"The dark clone laughed at the maskless warrior with a scornful tone, while preparing himself with the same stance as his opponent. His rage was intensifying, and soon, the dark clone's eyes were blazing with the same azure spark that flickered dangerously in his opponent's eyes.

"It is not by my power that I shall defeat you!" Starkiller proclaimed. "It is but, by the Force!" The Force master concluded his words and sped to the enemy with the Force enhancing his pace. Swinging his crimson lightsabers tauntingly, the dark clone fled toward his approaching enemy as well.

The interrupted mortal combat between the two force wielders resumed once again.

With their lightsabers bounced after the impact against one another, both Starkiller and the dark clone spun themselves by using the motion from the recoil, to deliver another lethal blow toward one another. Having already entered into the state where their rage-enhanced force augmented their strength and senses beyond the normal capability of a Force master, every blow and slash that Starkiller and the dark clone traded against one another was heavily imbued with violent bluish-purple electricity. Their bodies, from head to toe, were already bathed with the same energy. Thin layers made from crackles of lightning wreathed the entire bodies of the force wielders, and they sparked furiously every time Starkiller and the dark clone slammed their respective lightsabers toward one another.

Even though bluish screen of electricity ran through the exterior of his body, Starkiller still could feel the brush of the wind on his face and his was slightly thankful that his decision to remove his helmet was the right one. The dark clone's previous lightning attack that was inflicted upon him, had made a mess to the electronics of his Kaminoan helmet, thus rendering himself almost blinded inside the helmet. Because of that, he was forced to remove the silver helmet with white plate as its face guard. Still, Starkiller's lack of a head protection was compensated with a wider line of sight.

Starkiller dashed and leaped as he delivered his attacks and dodging accordingly to the Force master was keenly and avidly adjusting his tactics to adapt and counter his enemy's brutal and vicious approach to end his life. Due to both of the Force warriors entering into the state of Force-enhanced rage, the mortal combat between them rose to the level that was almost destructive to their surroundings. The grassy ground where they stood was scorched by the lightning produced from their bodies. The smell of burnt oxygen lingered all over the vicinity. Smoking craters and scarred earth blemished the once beautiful emerald field.

Every time impact was made between the black colored lightsabers and the crimson ones, debris and dust were thrown away. The earth itself was cracked under the titanic gravity of the battle between the two fearsome warriors. The graceful mastery of arts of lightsaber combat that the warriors performed had been heavily tampered with brutal efficiency. No more the duo implemented the bewitching swings of the Shii-Cho and the elegant thrusts of Makashi, for they had long traded them for the beautiful yet utterly deadly strikes of Vaapad and the relentless Force combination assaults of Niman.

Silence reigned between the two, as they let their actions spoke louder than any voice. The buzzing hums and the fizzes from the grinding energy blades reverberated throughout the field. Even though wounded, the dark clone proved himself to be an adversary that could not be underestimated for a second. The Sith's expertise in two lightsabers combat, especially with his unique Ataru form, had pushed Starkiller to fight with even greater ferocity and tactfulness. Against the dark clone's somersaults and cartwheels that preceded his deadly slashes, Starkiller would counter it with the deflecting and parrying attacks of Soresu. Still, with every successful parrying and deflecting of the Sith's attack, Starkiller had less success in delivering counter blows to the Sith. Ever since the Sith was wounded from Starkiller's shrewd counterattack, the dark clone of Galen Marek had been extremely wary of his twin's irregular patterns of attack. The dark clone had been avoiding Starkiller's strikes that always connected with his redirections, with the greatest caution. Even so, maskless Starkiller refused to concede defeat against his enemy, and increased the swiftness of his assaults. Brutal style of attacks and unpredictable counterattacks intensified the lethality of duel between Starkiller and the dark clone.

Starkiller might be the less aggressive party in the lethal duel on that field, but the lightning clad clone was far from being losing. He might be unable to land successful blows on the Sith, but in fact he was holding powerful dominance in the battle. The armor-clad Starkiller was not losing any single ground, nor was he forced to step back. The Force master's prowess was showingthe signs of overpowering the dark clone's skills. Starkiller had proven himself to be a more than a match for his evil twin, as he masterfully held his ground and advanced to gain even more by pushing the Sith backwards and backwards. Slashes were dodged, kicks were evaded, and salvos of lightning-imbued spherical missiles were blasted by another salvo of energy missiles; yet no ground was conceded to the dark clone.

Against the dominating stance of the maskless warrior, the dark clone of Galen Marek grinded his teeth in extreme displeasure while dodging a sharp thrust from the black colored lightsaber to his face. The smell of burned air stung his nostrils as the energy blade passed rather harmlessly near his head. As he distanced himself away from series of slashes that connected with the previous thrust, the dark clone's mind fell into frustration. Few minutes ago, the pitiful and wishy-washy clone of Galen Marek was ripe to be slain. Then somehow, he gained inner strength to match and even managed to wound the Sith!

"Curses!" The Sith hissed as he leaped and slammed his lightsabers in a vicious downward slash to cleave the Jedi-ish clone, only to be easily evaded by the target as he spun himself to the sideway from the attack. He connected his evasion with another roundhouse kick to the landing Sith; his armored sole slammed powerfully to the dark clone's back, pushing him far and forcing him to kiss the ground in humiliation.

"RARRRRGGHRR!" the dark clone bellowed. He quickly rolled and skillfully rose to the standing position from the ground. Dirt did not fleck his garments and his face, thanks to the Force layer all over the surface of his body. Yet the dark clone felt the flaming stung of degradation on his face. In his mind, he cursed the Force-damned bald-headed man that had cost him the chance to flay his Force-forsaken more curses in his mouth, the dark clone then Force-dashed to his foe with his crimson lightsabers in each of his hands. His weapons were spread wide like a pair of falcon's wings.

His foe, the silver-armored Starkiller, was waiting for the approaching Sith. He was already in his battle-stance, with one lightsaber held in reverse grip, extended in front. The other lightsaber in his other hand was extended upward; its blazing tip was facing forward. His countenance was unchanged; the neutrally frowning face of the clone was peering deeply toward the furious enemy. He could see that the dark clone's flaming auburn eyes, which blazed beneath the thin layer of cackling lightning, was now burning even brighter in orange glow. Angry snarl on the Sith's mouth and the furrowing scowl between the his eyes indicated that it was his turn to lose his cool. His reason had been taken over by the will of the dark side; his eagerness to end Starkiller's life was multiplied a hundredfold.

Starkiller, through his Force-enhanced sense, became aware of the change within his enemy. He detected the considerable escalation in the dark clone's , he too, detected the declining of his enemy's reason. In the deadly duel which involved the skillful control of the Force, loss of focus and sense of reasoning would result in a very deadly consequence. Planning his next steps carefully, Starkiller braced for the incoming attack from the dark-sided aggressor.

The two met again in combat. The Sith was relentless in his vicious slashes and stabs, but Starkiller responded them in the same valor with his ripostes. The Force master's dodging and blocking, which followed by vicious slashes and thrusts were more than enough to further aggravate his evil twin.

"WHY?! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST DIE?!" The Sith roared as he tried to sweep his foe's legs, who already leaped to his behind. The maskless warrior pressed his offensive to the dark clone by swinging down his twin lightsabers hard. Even though enraged, the Sith still managed to block them skillfully by delivering his lightsabers to the back, intercepting Starkiller's energy blades with his own. Pushing the black colored lightsabers and their wielder away, the dark clone spun himself to face his armor-clad twin, and deftly brought down his wrath upon him. The fizzes of energies erupted once again as the battle continued with each lightsaber bouncing and grinding against one another.

"WHY?!" The Sith's monstrous roar magnified his already terrifying visage a hundred fold.

"Because-the-Force-sustains-me!" Starkiller responded with difficulty, but the seriousness of his tone displayed his unyielding fortitude. His expression was unfazed by the dark clone's bellow. The armor-clad clone's parrying, that followed by flurry of slashes was successful in sending the Sith away to his back. "You're-fighting-against-the-Force!"

"YOU'RE LYING!" The dark clone unleashed the hails of lightning from his fingers toward Starkiller. The latter blocked them with one lightsaber that he swung it in circular motion. The dark side energy of Sith's lightning was absorbed harmlessly by Starkiller, who deftly returned it to the dark clone with a powerful blast by his other hand. The dark clone was forcefully thrown away by the mighty push, and once again he was painfully dropped to the ground.

"You're blinded by rage, thus ruining your link to the force!" Starkiller exclaimed to the downed foe. The Force attack had put a moderate distance between the dark clone and him. Seeing the crackling screen of lightning departed from the body of the rising Sith, Starkiller suppressed his rage. Immediately, the thin layer of bluish lightning, that blanketed his entire outer shell, subsided. "It's over, Sith! I have greater advantage over you!"

"You underestimate my might, Jedi!" The dark clone slurred. His countenance was now a face of a madman, with dirt and mud stained the greenish-pale complexion of his face. He extended his hands toward the nearby trees, and immediately, they were pulled violently from the soil where they were rooted. The trees were floating menacingly in the air, waiting to do the dark clone's bidding.

"EAT THIS!" The Sith pushed his hand toward Starkiller, and the floating trees instantly darted toward the silver-armored clone. The driving force that launched the trees was fearsome, as it was shown by how they dashed through the air, despite of their sheer massive size did not impede the speed which they were travelling with. Closing nearer and nearer to the armor-clad clone, the trees were ready to crush and trample the armor-clad clone under their mammoth forms.

Despite of already sending out his attack, the Sith was spurred by his rage to deliver a successive attack toward his opponent. Immediately after throwing the lumbers to his Jedi-ish twin, the dark clone dashed along the side of the flying lumbers that he launched, and jumped powerfully toward the reviled clone of Galen Marek. His blazing red lightsabers in his hands, were extended high above his head. Should the silver-armored clone destroy or evade the trees from crushing him, the dark clone would be ready to strike the finishing blow on him. By exploiting his distraction from avoiding the crushing death by the trees, the dark clone was confident that his ploy would finally seal the fate of his Force-damned twin.

In the face of the fast approaching lumbers of enormous size, Starkiller deactivated both of his lightsabers and holstered them to his belt. He brought his hands together, with each palm clasped against one another like a praying pose. His eyes were closed and his mind was empty. The only sound that he heard was the beating of his heart, which tempo descended from fast pace to a calmer rate. As the massive lumbers were closing in, Starkiller opened his now-flaring eyes and brought up his legs and hands to his chest. The invisible energy of the Force sustained the clone in the air; and quickly the giant, rippling globe of energy appeared and enveloped Starkiller within it. Before the speeding lumbers could ever touched the massive sphere of condensed energy, the Force master shot out his limbsinto different directions; his arms and legs were spread out wide. Instantaneously, the preserved energy that was contained within the giant sphere was set loose, unleashing powerful energy of nigh-insurmountable force to its surroundings.

This was the signature technique of Galen Marek in the way of the Force that passed to those who shared his bloodline, namely his clones. This was the unparalleled Force Repulse, the Force technique that hailed not from either the dark side or the light side; yet possessed the most destructive power among Starkiller's other Force abilities.

Shooting out the gathered energy outward, the Force Repulse sent out powerful kinetic waves which power equaled the might of thousand tsunamis. The speeding massive lumbers of death stood no chance against the sheer force of the mighty burst of energy. The outward blast that Starkiller unleashed quickly washed through the massive wooden debris. Upon impacting with the furious torrent of the Force, the trees were quickly shattered. Timbers were ripped apart straight away by the mighty and invisible wall of energy that kept on expanding out. Giant logs of wood were reduced into splinters, while the smaller and weaker ones were immediately disintegrated into nothingness. The surviving shrapnel and chips of the once mighty trees were repelled hotly toward Starkiller's opponent like plasma projectiles shot out from a blaster.

The Sith was not spared from the might of his foe's titanic Force Repulse, as he was washed away by the blast. Thanks to his Force-enhanced physical resistance, the dark clone was able to withstand the fearsome waves of the compressed air and lightning, thus saving him from disintegration. However, pain was not on the list of the things that he withstood. When the raw power of the Force repulse passed through the floating dark clone,the powerful bursts of air and the stinging electric impulses ran through the Sith forcefully like a raging stampede. The dark clone was tossed away by the violent blast of air, tugging his body backward powerfully. Not only that, the biting agony of the lightning that wreathed his body and coursed through his veins forced him to lurch overwhelmingly in the mid-air. His sonorous yell of pain was drowned into the booming explosion of the Force burst.

The kinetic surge that the Force repulse unleashed was so ferocious that It tore off the Sith's lightsabers from his hands. His defeated body was flung speedily across the air; wiggling awkwardly like a rag doll, and waiting to be mercifully put down upon the hard soil. Unfortunately, such thing did not happen according to his wishes. It was neither pleasant nor painless experience when the Sith was hovering haplessly in the air; for the jetting shrapnel and splinters of the heavily mangled trees shot through the his body. Even though they flew out in wild directions, the plethora of spiky scraps still managed to find the fleshy end to be nested in. Sharp fragments of lumber dug deep into the flesh of the dark clone. The Sith's dark garb was torn and ridden with holes, as sharp fragmented shells-like wooden debris, indiscriminately and painfully bombarded his body.

"Kriffing Sithspawn!" The dark clone winced painfully as a sharp splinter grazed his neck. His twitching body was jetting helplessly in the air, as both pain and weariness coursed through it mercilessly. His state of defenselessness soon brought fury and frustration into his mind.

Time seemed to lengthen its pitiless pace, as the dark clone drifted across the air. Some semblance of reason in his mind tried to call forth the Force to break his fall. But due to the overwhelming frustration and anger that clouded his thoughts, such feat could not be hatred to his twin was plastered in the Sith's face; his mind was filled with thousand curses and vile designs to break the silver-armored warrior. The was waiting unpleasantly for the rough landing on the hard ground, before he could launch himself up and delivered his most fearsome vengeance upon his most abhorred twin.

Then, all of the sudden, shadow crept over him, as something had risen to block the sun. The dark clone, feeling the sudden darkness and a slight flash that accompanied it, lifted his eye-lids slowly, only to have them unfurled the dark clone saw was his armor-clad twin, descending swiftly toward him. Upon his countenance was the hardened expression of a vengeful warrior. In his hands were his signature twin black-as-night lightsabers. The way that they were raised high above his head was likened the fangs of a ferocious Ralltiir Tiger, arcing wide before sinking down in lethal finality to the flesh of its prey.

The dark clone was manic with utter terror and disbelief, as he looked clearly to the sight that would probably be his last. How could the scum like his Jedi-ish twin be the one that defeated him, the perfect Sith that one day would oust both Vader and the Emperor?

The dark clone's instinct to survive quickly overruled his panicky and disorganized mind, and he quickly mustered his remaining strength to pull a defensive act against the incoming blow. He attempted to call forth the Force to aid him, trying to pull his thrown off lightsabers back into his hands. Unfortunately, the muscles of his limbs had been numb from the pain, and his sense of touch had been crippled from the agony. The damage and the wounds inflicted by the lightning, compressed air blasts, and sharp wooden fragments had effectively paralyzed the body of the Sith.

The dark clone's entire being screamed for the Force to aid him immediately, but it was to no avail; not even a spark of answer came up to him. He was too wounded, too weary and too disoriented to link his connection to the source of the Dark Side.

"CURSES!" The Sith bellowed defiantly before the face of his inevitable demise. Rage and shock were plastered on his face. "CURSE Y-"

The Sith's words were cut off by the sharp fizzles of the twin night-colored lightsabers, as they hammered down hard into his tattered form. The energy blades stabbed deep into the Sith's chest, and burned through his flesh. The blazing tips of the Starkiller's signature lightsabers appeared before the Sith's back, showing that such energy weapons had little difficulty in piercing his physical exterior. With a horrifying thud, the body finally slammed into the ground; leaving the defeated laying on the ground and the victor kneeling atop of him.

The dark clone would never harm anyone, anymore.

Starkiller had won, but he did not felt victorious.

His grip on the handles of his still-flaring lightsabers was kept tightly. His pose did not decline from its vigilance and readiness, even though his muscles were stinging with weariness and soreness. His hasty breathing was slowing down to a normal rate, as indicated by the heaving of his chest. Sweats were trailing down his dirt-stained face, and sometimes they trickled to the corner of the Force master's eyes. They stung uncomfortably in his eyes, but he did not blink. His gaze was fixed unrelentingly to the form of the vanquished Sith, who was now lying haplessly on the ground.

The dark clone's chest was heaving weakly. His limbs were twitching faintly. Even though the hybrid expression of both incredulity and hatred was still plastered on his face, the dark clone's mouth was now gurgling with blood and spits. The weakening of his evil twin's life signs showed that he was struggling for his fleeting life-force defiantly, albeit such struggle was surely be in vain.

Starkiller had no love for the enemy that he had recently slain, but he too, could not help himself from feeling sorry for his enemy. He had resisted the lure of the dark side, and won the titanic by using a clearer mind and conscience; yet, his heart and mind were troubled by the sight he was currently seeing.

His slain enemy, the dark clone, might have been the champion of the dark side, and the perfect weapon of Darth Vader, the dark lord that Starkiller despised the most. But, in truth, he too, was another replica of Galen Marek, just like the victor himself. The Sith-sided replica might have been a very powerful and staunch devotee of the dark side of the force; but he too, shared the same memories and doubts just like him, albeit heavily tampered or maybe suppressed. When his lightsabers drove deep into the dark clone's heart, Starkiller swore that he felt the Sith's mute, heart-rending scream to the core of the Force itself when his connection to the Force was severed, and it resonated to The victorious Force master's connection as well! Although he already had a suspicion, Starkiller was greatly shocked and alarmed when he sensed the enemy's the now-severed link to the Force. It was the very mirror-image of his!

So, in a sense, Starkiller was not killing some kind of crazed Sith assassin, he was actually killing his own flesh and blood. Although there was no definite proof to confirm that there was a link of siblinghood between the clones of the same template, Starkiller could not shake off the uncomfortable thoughts that he might have killed his own brother.

"Y…ou,kh…fool!" The Sith suddenly coughed; shattering Stakiller's train of thoughts. The words came out from the dark clone's mouth was with a great strain, for more black blood and revolting content were gagging out with his coughing. The Force master quickly deactivated his lightsabers; the blazing blades of energy, with color as dark as the night, zapped out from the existence into nothingness. He removed the weapons from his hand, and put away his pressing foot from the torso of the dying foe.

"Y..ou,khk,…think…you…kkh…have…won….khhkk,..don't...kyou..kh?" The dark clone wheezed. His sentence was borderline unintelligible. The black-colored lightsabers had done a wondrous work by boring two holes of cauterized wound on the Sith's chest. The gaping holes was thoroughly burned that they let not a single drop of blood to drip from them. Still, the grassy ground was defiled by the oozing liquid life that the evil clone discharged from his mouth. "Yo..hkhk..u…are..wrong!"

Starkiller was moving closer to the dying foe's side, while planting his right palm on the Sith's fatal wounds. No energy from the Force coursed through his fingers for he had no intention to save the enemy. There was no Jedi teaching that compelled the user of the light side of the force to show mercy to the Sith, and there was no rule that forbade it either. Starkiller was not a Jedi, and he too, was not in the best terms with the dying Sith; yet, such thing did not prevent Starkiller from showing humane gesture to the defeated opponent.

"Save your strength." Starkiller dully said to the dying clone. His scowl still adorned his countenance, but he had no longer any intention to further harming the Sith. Instead of hostility, pity was what Starkiller felt as he saw his dying foe before him. "You're already defeated."

S-s-s-save..your..kkrrh..pity..Jedi!" The dark clone put up a defiant mock to Starkiller. His scornful gaze of auburn, although failing, was still piercing deep to Starkiller's eyes. "I…kh..don't…kkhe…need..khh…them...Don't…kkkh...thinkkkhh…that...this…is..over!"

"What are you talking about?" Starkiller frowned in confusion.

"khekhekhekhekhe..hrk..you…are..just..khrk…a...tool,…Vader's..kkhk...pet!" The dark clone spat spitefully. "My…khrk..death-means...hrrk..nothing…..hhrrk...com…hrk...pared..to...khrrk..the…terror…hrk...that…comes…khrk..after!"

Starkiller's frown turned darker. What did the Sith mean by the "terror"? What would follow after his death?

"Soon…hrk…this…hrk...back..hr..water..khh...planet…will..burn,…and..kh…you….along…with…kh..it..." The choking Sith was tethering desperately at the edge of his fleeting life. "Yo..hrk...u..will..hrk..die,..and..there's…hrk…nothing…you..can…do..to…hrk…stop..it…."

The dark clone's words ended abruptly with his mouth gaping wide. Foul blood caked all around his lips, the corner of his mouth, and all the way of his chin. His eyes, widely and wildly exposed, bore a dead hateful gaze which had lost its spark of life. All that remained in them was the Sith's bloodshot auburn stare.

Life finally passed unpeacefully and painfully from the dark clone of Galen Marek.

"May the Force accept you into its eternal embrace." Starkiller whispered as he pulled down the eyelids of the dead clone with his hand. His years of experience and meditation had taught him that every life, be it born from the dark or from the light, was equal before the Force. Thus, no matter how evil or how virtuous his foe maybe, Starkiller would never deny his enemy from his last rite.

Starkiller had slain his Sith twin, but he did not feel happier with it. Instead of relief, he felt perturbed. The ominous threat that his enemy had announced as his last words, plagued into the Force master's mind. Such threat might be his final defiant action against Starkiller, yet it did not sound hollow, like the ones given by the Trandoshan bounty hunters during Starkiller's days as a "Lightsaber-for-hire". It sounded of a deathly promise of a foreboding storm that would certainly come and unleash its promised wrath. Even though shadowy, the disturbance in the Force showed the signs that there was no untruth in the dead Sith's final words; it was the otherwise.

He rose to his feet, while his mind delved deeper into the slain enemy's last words. A light stroke from a breeze to his dusty face, disenchanted Starkiller from his thoughts. He became aware to his surroundings, and was struck with bewilderment immediately.

Starkiller turned his sight all around to capture the landscape into his eyes. He turned once more while blinking profusely, as he could not believe what he was currently seeing in his eyes.

The Force master knew that he was in some kind of a field or maybe a grassy plain, which vast expanse was barred from four sides. What barring those sides of the grassy field were high and majestic partitions, made from white stones. The walls on both left and right from Starkiller's position, were adorned with hollow archways that ran along the entire sides of the said walls. Two silo-like structures stood erect at both corner of the wall, where each rear end of the right-side wall and the left-side wall met with both edges of the hindmost partition. Meanwhile, both front tips of the left and right walls were connected to the large rounded wall of a circular platform, which at its top stood a tall spire with triangular supporting fins running along its rounded surface. The white spire, although was not as tall as the towering structures of Corruscant, possessed a certain beauty in its own right. Bathed in the sunlight, the immaculate shell of the white tower gleamed beautifully.

Scanning the other parts of the area, Starkiller saw several healthy shrubs and pine trees adjacent to the walls. Their hale and hearty greenness reminded him to the hilly plains of Alderaan. Yet, the structures of stones around him did not resemble the ones that he saw in the lush planet of the Alliance. The buildings that he saw were not only odd in style, but also….archaic in fashion.

Starkiller did not know where or what planet he and his evil twin were transported to. He couldn't even tell how both of them got into this location in the first place. All that he knew was that he had previously locked in a struggle between two deadly Force lightning with his evil twin; in a highly clandestine facility in Kamino named Rakesh. All of the sudden, he and his dark-sided foe were pulled into a green bubble of energy that appeared out of nowhere; and with a blinding flash, they were teleported into an unknown location where they were currently situated.

When Starkiller and his evil clone firstly arrived to the unknown place, he was confused; and was even greatly confused when he found a bunch of younglings, draped in strange uniform of black cloaks and white shirts. He had suspected them to be students, and it was further reinforced with the presence of an adult that look like a teacher to them. The same confusion had also been drawn on the face of the dark clone, especially when he noticed a large, strange winged beast of blue standing behind the younglings. Due to the presence of the Sith, those oddities were quickly disregarded, as they clashed against one another in mortal combat.

And now, with the duel being concluded, confusion returned to Starkiller, followed by the feeling of being lost.

"Where in the bantha' s backside, did I end up into?" Starkiller thought out loud. His bewilderment was quickly faded when he heard something amiss not far from his position.

Picking faint shriek and sobs in the air, Starkiller turned his sight to where the students huddled together. He then saw a laying figure on the ground, surrounded by the children. Suddenly, realization of the transpired event came back to him like a powerful slap across his face.

"Oh, Force!" Starkiller remembered the bald stranger, whose action had given him the chance to fight back his evil twin. As the result for his action, the bald one had been painfully electrocuted by the dark clone, and now he was laying on the ground- withering slowly and painfully to the death.

The armor-clad Force master hastily sauntered across the grassy field with broad stride, toward the grim crowd. Concern and fear quickly rose to his visage, as the sound of sadness getting thicker and thicker with the ever reducing distance between the Force Master and the mob. Leaving the corpse of the Sith behind, Starkiller could only hope that his unknown savior had not been badly injured or killed from the Sith's cruel lightning.

Starkiller did not know who the mysterious man was. The only thing that he knew about the bald stranger was that he was brave enough to stood up in Starkiller's defense against the dark clone, even though his strength was terribly lacking compared to Starkiller's evil twin. Beyond that, he knew nothing about the stranger anymore. Even so, Starkiller had no intention to let the man who had risked his life for the stranger he didn't even know to die.

The victorious clone finally arrived to the crowd, only to find them cowering away from his presence. The younglings were even more fearful than before, as he moved to approach them.

Before Starkiller could proceed any further to the fallen stranger, he was barred by a little bespectacled girl of blue hair. Despite of her surprisingly small and thin body frame, the blue-haired girl stood imposingly before him, while the other younglings huddled and whimpered behind her. The little girl, whose body frame was likened a stick, had a face of indifference on her. Though neutral, her dull expression seemed to conceal her readiness to do battle with the maskless Force master, as how it was indicated by the fiery gaze of her eyes, and her pose before him. Her crooked staff, gripped tightly in her hands, was raised high against Starkiller; the unfamiliar weapon of the youngling seemed ready to launch strange projectile against the armor-clad Force master.

Not only was the blue-haired girl, the winged beast that stood behind the crowd was also glaring irately toward the concerned Force master. The giant reptilian being was growling threateningly toward Starkiller. It was clear that both of them perceived the silver-armored clone of Galen Marek as a threat, and it was not a surprise; since they all had seen the eerie resemblance between Starkiller and his evil twin, and that they had also witnessed how devastating and deadly the duel between the two Force users.

While the girl and the beast fixed their gaze wrathfully toward him, Starkiller managed to notice that the other younglings, with stranger but smaller animals on their embrace, were clustering together tightly. Some of them stole a glance at him; but quickly close their eyes, and hurriedly turned their face to the other way with fear. Looking back to the blue-haired girl and the winged beast, Starkiller spotted a slight trembling on their bodies when his gaze connected with theirs. Despite of their courageous bearing to stand in defense for the other students and animals, the tinge of fear in toward the clone was absolutely transparent in them.

Slightly giddy from sensing the fear of the younglings, Starkiller realized that he would not accomplished his objective to save the unknown savior if the younglings were immensely terrified of him. Added with the fact that the children was mumbling unrecognized language alongside of their whimpers and sobs, Starkiller had to do something fast to allay their fear. With every passing minute would bring the fallen baldheaded man closer to his demise, Starkiller wasted no more time. He intended to use the mind trick toward the youngling. But fearing that the Force trick would have a negative effect on their minds, Starkiller opted for more primitive method.

Starkiller slackened his hardened expression into a compliant one. His frown dissolved, leaving only a serious, but sympathetic look in his eyes. He raised his hand above his head with a deliberately measured pace, a universal gesture of submission.

The blue-haired student was alarmed at first; but seeing no sign of hostility from the man before her and that he had a face of worry and concern, she relaxed her piercing stare toward the man, and slightly lowered her wooden staff. Even though her crooked staff was still raised, the blue-haired girl somehow seemed to be able to read the armor-clad stranger's expression. The youngling appeared to understand what the Force Master intended to do, and was going to give way for him. But, before she could do so, a flash of pink shoved her aside from behind and darted toward the clone.

"S-S-S-STUPID MONSTER!" the pink-haired little girl that was Louise yelled while pounding hard on the torso of the mysterious….thing that she had probably summoned. "Y-Y-YOU KILLED PROFESSOR COLBERT!"

The little Tristainian continued to rain fists to the armor plate that protected the unknown person's body. Due to the stark difference of the heights between Louise and the man in strange silver armor, the pink-haired girl's fist could only reach the region below the man's chest. She was trying to dent the mysterious person's armor plate by unleashing furious flurry of blows upon it. Despite of the still lingering fear that embedded deeply in her body and mind, Louise kept on banging the body of the stranger. Her anger, due to her summoned beings' ruining the day, overwhelmed her terror. The fact that the stranger before her had the capabilities to do things incomprehensible, was quickly disregarded.

Yet, due to the unearthly hardness of the armor plate that protected the man's body, Louise's beating seemed to have a little to no effect to the stranger, who was now wearing a face of perplexity.

"YOU MONSTER! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING?!" The youngest of the Valliere sobbed, as she thumped her forehead to the stranger's. His hands were reddened with sores; her eyes and her nose were runny with watery substances. She had no idea who or what the stranger before her was, and she was greatly horrified because of it. The pink-haired little Tristainian had seen everything from the moment when she woke up. She had been nearly killed by the unnerving spinning blade of red light, rescued by the stranger before her, and watched how everything unfolded before her very eyes.

She was greatly disturbed when the battle between the strangers happened. Although the garments that they wore and the weapons that they wielded could be likened almost closely to the equipment and arms of respectively the white knight and the dark knight of the children's tale, the battle that the strangers made against one another was far from the story.

The duel between the two unknown persons was both titanic and monstrous. Louise was frozen stiff when she witnessed purple-colored lightning bolts shot out fiercely from their fingers. She was stupefied when she saw those unnerving black and red blades of light flew out from the stranger's hands, and spun deathfully in the air. The beautiful, yet deadly flashes from the clashing of the blades mesmerized the little pink-haired girl with fear and wonder. Even though the buzzing hums of light the blades alarmed her greatly to the bones, Louise was hypnotized by the trailing lights of black and red that lingered in the air.

Louise also witnessed the duel of lightning and radiance between the strangers reached its brutal maturity, when her favorite teacher, Jean Colbert, stepped into the fray and suffered dearly for his action. Maybe because of his outer appearance, or maybe because of his speedy action in saving Louise from imminent death; under no apparent reason, the bald-headed educator of Tristain Academy of Magic decided to help the silver-armored stranger from a grave predicament. As the result, his successful interruption had reaped him a painful torture by the Brimir-damned lightning from the stranger in black. Although it did not last long, and the perpetrator had been slain, Louise could still hear the professor's scream of utter pain echoing in her ears.

"BECAUSE OF YOU, HE IS DYING, YOU MURDERER!" Louise continued to sob into the man's torso, pouring out her overwhelming and jumbled emotion that already flooded her eyes. Her aching and tired arms finally thumped for the last time, as her little fists planted on the armor plate and slid down slowly. She was crying loud, losing herself in sorrow, when all of the sudden the stranger lowered himself and circled his strong arms around her in a kindly embrace.

Louise was at loss of words,….and was at loss of action as well. She was silent and still like a stone statue when the stranger embraced her tightly. Nervous gasps of shock erupted behind her; no doubt her classmates were watching the entire happening with their eyes and mouth wide open. Louise too, was scared beyond her wits. What if the embrace was a fake one? What if the stranger had nefarious intention beneath the kindly gesture? What if he intended to kill her and the other students after the hug? Fortunately, such thing did not happen for Louise did not feel any malice from the stranger's warm embrace. One of the stranger's hand pushed Louise's head onto the man's shoulder. Her reddened cheek was pushing against the cold plates of the silver pauldron, while her long pink hair was stroke in a calming manner. She could hear the stranger's whispers, which she understood not one bit. Even though the words felt foreign in her ears, the little Tristainian could felt the reassuring content within, as how they calmed the storm within her mind.

"Don't worry. I am not your enemy." Starkiller softly said while calming down the strange pink-haired youngling. He did not knew if the pink-haired youngling understood any word that he said, since he was totally unfamiliar with the language that the little one had yelled to him. But seeing her becoming quiet and still, Starkiller knew that his gesture and words had performed their purpose like magic.

Initially, the Force master was shocked when the girl with the most bizarre hair color assaulted him with her little fists, and yelled at him with unrecognized tongue. Although Starkiller was unhurt, he could not just shove her aside. Such thing would only show to the crowd that he was some kind of unsympathetic bully, no matter how pure his intention might be; and that thing would certainly impede his attempt to rescue the laying and dying bald-headed. Using the experience he had in the slums of Ryloth, Starkiller simply hugged the youngling as a silent statement that he meant no harm toward her and the others. If such action had worked perfectly fine to the Twi'lek children, why wouldn't it achieve the same result with these younglings?

The outcome was as Starkiller had predicted: the girl was calmed down and the onlookers were now loosening up a bit, albeit still sorrowful. Seeing the girl in his embrace had been consoled, Starkiller quickly released her and rose to his feet. Before he made his way to the laying man behind her, he saw a worried look on the face of the pink-haired girl. The expression on her face was a mute pleading; a silent implore of "Please save him!"

No words came out from her mouth, yet Starkiller understood it all too well. After nodding slightly to girl, the Force master walked passing her.

When Starkiller approached to the laying man, he had no idea what the bald-headed victim had suffered. To his terror, he found the man to be almost heavily deformed. His skin turned sagged, and was corrugated heavily with deep wrinkles and creases. The color of his skin turned deathly pale. His muscles seemed to be thinning drastically; revealing bony features of the bald man's body. The small patch of hair had turned bony white.

The bald-headed man, who was laying in an almost fetal position on the grassy ground, was trembling and coughing profusely. His current pathetic state betrayed the intense struggle in the man's withering shell for his own life.

Strakiller quickly recognized the symptoms; it was the fearsome result of being directly exposed to the Sith lightning. Such utilization of the dark side of the Force had varied results, depending on the intensity of the Force and the purpose of its use. But the vilest of all application of the Force lightning was its use to physically transform its victim. Considered as one from the many forms of Sith sorceries, the Sith version of Force lightning was powerful enough to physically transform its victim according to the whim of its conjurer. In one application, a powerful Sith lord could use the Sith lightning to enthrall and transform his / her victim of any kind, be it sentient being or dull animal, into a powerful mutant slave, forever bound to its Sith slave master. But in another application, Sith lightning was used a means of torture; transforming its victim into a creature with deteriorating form as to prolong or to intensify the victim's suffering and agony.

Thanks to his Force-enhanced resilience, Starkiller could resist the ruining effect of the Sith lightning, although he still felt the debilitating pain and agony inflicted by such force technique. Yet, unfortunately for the now-laying bald-headed, he was now suffering extremely for being the victim of the Sith sorcery.

As Starkiller move closer to the dying stranger, he noticed a female student had already beside the deformed bald-headed. Kneeling beside the man that Starkiller presumed as the teachers of the younglings, the girl, who had the most bizarre hairstyle of drill-like curls, was trepidatiously chanting unrecognized words while waving her wooden stick despairingly to the dying man. Her grip on her stick was wavering, while tears ran down from her eyes to her reddened cheeks like flood water. Frustration and sorrow were thick in her sob-filled voice and in her expression, as whatever she did to the dying man were all for naught. Her chants turned into a wail, as the girl threw her stick away forlornly, and buried her face into her palms.

Before Starkiller dropped himself beside the man, a male student with short blonde hair quickly approached the sorrowful girl and brought her away from the misshapen man, who lay miserably on grassy soil. The golden-haired boy quickly enveloped his arms around the curly-haired girl, who seemed to be inconsolable. Her expression, revealed only after the girl had been persuaded to remove her hands from her face, seemed to lose all of her vitality. Almost stumbling on her feet, the curly-haired girl had to be carried by the blonde boy, in order to prevent her from falling down. She was promptly led away from the sight that wrecked her heart so badly.

After the grief-stricken girl left , Starkiller promptly stooped beside the dying teacher. Kneeling with both of his legs kissing the ground, Starkiller, with his eyes closed and his mind focused, mustered his remaining strength to call forth the power of the Force. The toll of the previous battle gradually weighed down on the clone's body; weariness and soreness were stinging on every part of his frame. Even so, he had no wish to deny the miserable victim of the Sith from the chance of life, no matter how miniscule it was. Stars! The stranger had risked his life for Starkiller; it could be considered a blood debt and the clone would rather choose eternal damnation if he disregarded such debt.

Remembering what his old cranky mentor had taught, the Force master extended his open hand toward the heavily deformed man before him, and began to meditate.

"Listen, Starkiller!" Rahm Kota said annoyedly to the yawning Force master in the cafeteria aboard the Just Vengeance, one of the Alliance flagship, which was now doing its routine patrol around the Calamari sector. "The core of the Force heal is not only for mending physical wounds."

"Yes, I know it already, old man." Starkiller replied disinterestedly. Both Force masters were having a heated discussion on an empty table, waiting for the debriefing from Juno after finishing a simple escort mission. "It is meant to heal the spirit, too. I have heard it for hundred times now."

"Then, you still don't get it!" The old veteran hissed with his eerie blind eyes glaring at the insolent youth. "Force healing was invented to combat the nefarious Sith sorcery. When done properly, the healing technique of the Force could purge the poison and the taint of the dark side!"

"I don't understand." Starkiller, whose interest was piqued by the old general's explanation, asked. "If such technique was so powerful, then how come the Sith was now the ruling force all over the galaxy?"

"Don't you ever hear what I have said?" Rahm Kota sighed with a frowned face when he saw Starkiller shook his head. "The Sith had not won, because we are still here! Besides, the Sith being the most dominant power over the galaxy has nothing to do with the true might of the Force healing. In ancient times, when both Sith and Jedi have not even came to existence yet, there was a primordial order of Force users, whose expertise in the way of the Force was unparalleled. One of their capabilities was to summon the power of the Force to heal the physical and spiritual wound. The energy that they summoned for such restorative technique was likened a powerful light that burned the darkness away, yet it did not hail from either light side or the dark side. With the progressing of ages, only a handful of Jedi masters knew of such power."

"So, you are implying that this "true" form of Force healing has now been lost forever?" Starkiller cut in with a skeptical look.

"I didn't say that!" Rahm Kota retorted. His tone indicated that he was slightly displeased with the youth's manner. Still, his displeasure did not hamper his intention to explain the matter further to Starkiller. "What I meant to say is that the true form of the Force healing could still be resurrected, and who knows, it could probably be brought back to life by your hands, boy."

Starkiller's hands suddenly glowed bright, as energy of the Force converged into his palms.

"Let's see if your teaching is right, old man." Starkiller mumbled to himself. "Reaching deeply…into the Force…to mend the flesh…..and heal the spirit!"

Ending his words, Starkiller drove his extended hands toward the victim's frame, relaying the energy of the force to the shriveled body of a dying man. The body of the misshapen bald-headed man was soon jerked upward when the energy of the Force permeated into the man's deformed flesh.

More loud intakes of breath and fearful yelps were voiced by the younglings, when they saw the malformed body of their teacher was tugged by unseen power. They suspected the stranger with glowing hands had something to do with it. Their suspicion was proven true when the same glow of brightness enveloped all over their bald-headed teacher. The children, albeit fearful, began to extend their arms toward the stranger. They intended to stop whatever the silver-armored man was doing after seeing the shriveled face of their teacher wincing painfully. Yet before their fingers could touch him, the unforeseen happened.

The bald-headed man, although gritting his already-yellowed teeth in pain, started to regain his healthy form. The saggy skin grew tighter as muscles beneath the fleshy shell expanded exponentially. Creases and wrinkles started to fade away, and the fair-pinkish color of healthiness began to crawl into his skin. His wheezing turned into a normal breathing, with now his healthy broad chest heaving in orderly cadence. The little patch of hair that the bald-headed possessed, returned from its sickly white to his previous brown. Loud groan from the recovering bald-headed was heard

"C'mon! Hang in there! Just a little bit more!" Starkiller said, as he heard the groans of pain from the baldheaded teacher. The Force master exerted more of his strength to detect and cleanse the venom of the dark side within the laying man. His forehead furrowed deeper and his hand trembled moderately. Sweats began to pour down from his head to his neck. His mind was focused deeply in finding and purging the deteriorating poison that his Sith twin had inflicted upon the unfortunate man. Despite of his tedious concentration, Starkiller could still pick up the nervous chattering behind and around him. Although Starkiller do not understand any words that the bystanders shouted out, he could understand their tone of shock and incredulity.

"Uggghhh." The bald-headed man groaned even louder, even if his countenance turned healthier by seconds. The thick blackened pockets under his eyes were diminishing quickly, leaving only few thin pouches of skin below them; a normal trait for a man of his age.

"Just….hang…in…there!" Starkiller encouraged the man while his body rattled tremendously. The Force master was now running in fumes; he felt his strength faltering greatly and his consciousness fading rapidly. Starkiller never knew that pulling such Force technique would require so great of his willpower and vigor. His already weary mind and body were now tested in a very difficult trial, which would decide the life or death of an innocent soul. Even though his mental and physical fortitude were failing rapidly, Starkiller had no intention to concede defeat. He would make sure that this man before him lived.

"There…..is….freedom, and there….is…unity." Starkiller chanted his own mantra to bolster his failing strength. It only bought him a little more time to find and the purge the last taint of the dark side. Finding it finally, Starkiller pumped the entire energy of the Force into the body of the laying man.

"For….I..am..the..FORCE!" The Force master yelled as the pumped energy of the Force burned away the last taint of corruption. The laying man yelled loudly as the light that enveloped his body flashed in blinding brilliance. Starkiller and the younglings shielded their eyes from heavy intensity of the light. Thankfully, the blinding flash only lasted for a few seconds before it finally died down.

Putting their hands away from their eyes, the youngling unlatched their eyelids and witnessed the result of the stranger's handiwork on their baldheaded teacher. Instead of finding a heavily deformed adult, the younglings found a healthy, breathing person laying on the ground, with his chest heaving normally. Every typical feature of the baldheaded man had returned to him. His skin, which had regained its healthy hue, was now clear from the unnatural wrinkles and creases. His body frame also had grown from its previous state of nearly skeletal into healthy plumpness. All in all, the bold stranger who had saved Starkiller's life, was now fully cured from the deteriorating taint of the dark side.

Starkiller smiled as he saw what the Force healing had done to the man before him. The baldheaded man, who lay unconsciously on the grassy ground, was now freely breathing the air of life once again. Shriek of both shock and joy quickly replaced the sorrowful mood of the younglings with relief and happiness, when they saw their teacher had been successfully restored to life. The yell of delight and the clapping of hands were infectious to the younglings. Yet, before it transmitted to everyone, a loud thud was heard.

Starkiller, the silver-armored stranger who had slain the black-garbed villain and restored the teacher of the younglings from the mouth of death, had fallen unconscious beside the man that he had saved.

All of the shouts and screams that followed after were fallen deaf to the ears of the Force master, as Starkiller drifted into the dreamless realm of sleep.

I know, I know. You guys are probably displeased with the dark clone being dead in this chapter. Because of him being dead, Starkiller would probably curb-stomp everything in Halkegina, right?

Wrong.

I do want to have Starkiller having some "honeymoon" moment during his adventures in Halkegina, especially by pwning almost everything in that land. However, such moment would not be for long. Rest assured, I have already planned something on Halkegina that would prove challenging for the clone, and it would not be those silly conjurers and wand-wavers from FOZ realms. No, Starkiller would have hard time against the adversaries that I have in mind. He will fight armies of Sith monsters, and lords of the dark side! Besides, the dark clone is not the only clo…..I have said too much, haven't I?

Ahem, moving on to the other matter.

Honestly, when I saw your reviews (yes, I am talking to you, O Thunder God of the Norse mythology) and the numbers of the favs and follows, only one thing came into my mind that day. It was "WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE?!"

Seriously guys, I only released one chapter, which is ridden with mistakes, and you already poured out your most overwhelming interest into it. To say I am honored would just be an understatement and an insult to you all. Really, I am unworthy to you people patronage, but I will do my best to keep you all entertained.

To you my reviewers, especially Necrofantasia, Chronotimeguard, Darkerdeepdown, Cyricist001, and Z2010Deadmeat (aka THOR), I sense that you guys have the same concern in your reviews. Rest assured, for I will not have those wand-wavers "steroidized". There is no way in the hell that I would make FOZ magic be equal with the Force. Besides, how in the hell could those wooden sticks be toe-to-toe with the lightsabers?

About Starkiller, I do not and will not make him to be another oppressed and victimized pet of the little lady. No, I want to make him as epic as he has been in the games. I have been mesmerized by scene of Star Destroyer being pulled down, and being shot in half; and I intended to create the same scene again in this story (with or without the Star Destroyer…I am still considering about it). Nevertheless, Starkiller will show to the Halkeginians that Force….is the Force.

About Louise,..well, about Louise….she is a brat, but not a bad brat. She only have issues, and they are pretty bad issues, too. Still, Starkiller won't be playing as some kind of a dog for the little lady. He would still be her protector or some kind of that shit, but our hero will have another role, too. This other role will change the life of Louise (…and maybe, probably everyone else). Just imagine! Our little pink-haired lady, in a black robe, and instead of a wand in her hand, she have a ligh…I have said too much again. Dammit, why do you do this to me, brain?

About Romance…..this is hard stuff, very hard stuff. Why? Because Starkiller that I portrayed in this story had just getting over his feelings for Juno. Let's face it (SPOILERS HERE!), his obsession for the ex-pilot of the Empire was and is simply a mirror image from Galen Marek, his DNA template, and we know that Starkiller is NOT Galen Marek; he is just a clone, a very powerful clone. Although Starkiller in here was much mature and wiser than the one in game, he is still in experienced in the matter of love. In future, I will make a romance for Starkiller, but unfortunately, harem would be highly unlikely. Starkiller here would probably break many maiden hearts because of that…but what the hell, at least he got a girl!

About grammar, I will do my best to improve myself. Darkerdeepdown, your input is noted and I will do something about it.

About Tifa…sweet bo, I mean girl, sweet girl…..I am very sorry. Cyricist001, I will make it up for that kindly elf in other ways. Rest assured, Vader will have a role to play in this story.

About release…..I will do my BEST to update faster. Drake202, Darkcomedy, I will do my BEST about it.

Once again, I am very sorry for the very late release. I intended to have this chapter finish before new year's eve. However, to spare you all from boring tale, my dickish bosses had to ruin my plans. And for that, I am very sorry to you guys.

But let's put that gloomy and boring thoughts aside, because I want you people to pitch in your thoughts about who would be best to be Starkiller's love interest. Why? Because your ideas, my dear readers, are like gems in my eyes and diamonds in my mind; your ideas enlighten me in many ways that I can't articulate in words. Simply put, this unworthy me wants your ideas.

At last, this chapter is a tribute to Ellie Goulding. I'll always love your voice.

Force is with you and around you…..for the Force….is you.