Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age Or Star Wars

Back with an update of Daylen's progress, and the return of a Knights of the Old Republic character.

Dragon Wars: The Force of others

Episode 32: Against the Arena

"Another," Onasi commanded.

He sat on a stool, not a chair, in a bar and not a ship. This was how his career was ending or at least that's how he felt at that moment. His orange coat was laid out on the opposite stool, and his glass was filled with bubbling ale. The droid serving raised its arm, topping up the cup beside Carth's glass with a clear green liquid. He raised it to his mouth, took a swig, swirled it around to taste it and then swallowed. It burned his throat, making him click his tongue. But the taste served its purpose, bringing him closer and closer to the point he needed to be. That point when the pain wouldn't be there anymore. The pain in his knee and back would be gone. And for a while, he'd forget the pain he felt every time he went to sleep and experienced the nightmares.

"Bantha milk please!"

Who the hell would order that at a bar? Carth looked to his side, rolling his eyes when his question received its answer. Of course it would be him. Klue had taken off his Jedi robes, opting to wear a yellow jacket. His light sabre was probably hidden in the pocket somewhere, instead he had an S-5 hand cannon on his belt, popular amongst Naboo security forces.

"Believe it or not this was not the last place I was thinking you'd come to," he said, chuckling.

"Don't tell me it was the first," Carth grumbled.

"Oh no, I checked plenty of other places, but this is the only one that has a mural of the mountains of your home world," Klue said.

Carth lowered his head in regret, he hadn't been home in a long time. Not since Korriban and the rogue op.

"Whatever it is, I'm not interested," Carth said.

"Aren't you at least going to hear me out?" Klue asked.

"I already tried doing good for the galaxy, last time I tried to play hero it didn't work out so well."

"I'm not him!"

"A bottle!" Carth commanded the droid, who raised a bottle of blue liquid.

Klue took his milk and followed Carth to a table. The former admiral rubbed his knee as he sat.

"Can't the doctors do anything for it?" Klue asked.

"Knee shot during a skirmish against old Revanite troopers, back injury from a fighter crash. Me becoming admiral was as much to keep me off of the field as it was to reward my many years of service," Carth explained.

"You deserved to be admiral, you won't find anyone in the republic fleet who doesn't agree with me," Klue said.

"But it won't be the republic fleet anymore, soon it'll be the First Order security service, unless they change the name to something even less provocative."

Carth opened his bottle, and the liquid immediately began to bubble and froth. Raising it to his mouth, he tilted the contents down his throat, the froth coating his beard and dripping onto his trousers. Klue didn't recoil, but he didn't laugh or smile either. The sight was pitiful and sad, but he still understood why Carth buried himself in it.

"I'm worried," Klue muttered.

"You mean the Jedi council is worried," Carth huffed.

"No I'm worried, our investigation into an unknown ship's passenger sent to Korvis is cut short just as the First Order posts troops there. And then the senate decides to disband the fleet and give the first order defence authority. A contract I would understand, but they're making the First Order more and more legitimate, first territory, first a senate seat and now..."

"The keys to the fucking kingdom," Carth growled.

"A fitting analogy I suppose," Klue said.

"What do you want Klue?" Carth asked.

"The Old republic back!"

"We'll never have that."

Klue tipped the milk down his throat, set the glass down hard and looked Carth in the eyes.

"I want to go to Korvis and save as many people as I can. I want to find the passenger of the unknown ship and find out where they came from and why they are here? Because every instinct I have is telling me that this is all connected, that we're looking at the opening shots of an invasion of the republic," Klue explained.

"You can't invade people who are letting you in," Carth said.

"Not just the First Order, something else out there."

Carth shook his head and drank again.

"I trusted the force, the Jedi once, you know what happened," he said.

"You also trusted Master Surik once, and me...I'm not here as a Jedi, I'm here as a person who wants to protect the republic and more importantly..."

"Protect the republic and what it stands for, it stands for the people doing whatever their leaders tell them to do. They're not like us, they don't care about what goes on beyond their stars or about preserving ideals. Even democracy doesn't matter to them if they have safety, security and entertainment," Carth explained.

"Fine, I want to protect what's left of the republic, and those people on Korvis held prisoner by those criminals. Not just because I believe worse is coming but because I believe we shouldn't have abandoned them, and shouldn't now," Klue explained.

He stood up and placed some credits on the table.

"I want to do the right thing, if you still want to then contact me," he said.

Carth tilted his glass again, looking away from Klue. Whatever he did, the dreams would return and he would feel the pain again. Seeing his reflection in the liquid, he briefly saw a younger man, more idealistic. A man who had been called hero once, and had believed in the good he did.

'I...I want to be that man again,' he thought.

Korvis

"The Mark of blood!"

Daylen looked at his new hand, of all people, it was Uldred now looking down at him. Circling him, lecturing him.

"Through partial fusion with a pride demon, you allow it to infect your arm. To infect it, to increase the power of your spells. As well as the unexpected side effect of giving you a new hand, it will slowly eat away at you the more you use your magic," Uldred explained.

Daylen sat in his cell, staring at the bloodied limb and flexing the fingers. Uldred faded as soon as Vim stepped into the cell.

"You've sacrificed part of yourself to darkness haven't you?" Vim asked.

He put his hands together and sighed, shaking his head at Daylen.

"I've known many men in the past whom have used many excuses for falling to severe measures. 'Desperate times, desperate measures,' 'you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs', 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'. You however choose a different level of sacrifice don't you?"

"If possible I would like the sacrifice to me mine and mine alone," Daylen said.

"Those whom fight monsters often become what they fight," Vim said.

"We have the same saying on my world."

"What is the name of your world? Where are you from Daylen Amell?" Vim asked.

"A place of wonders, a place the Sith empire is bleeding dry. I don't want my people to suffer anymore, but at the same time I won't turn away whilst injustices are being committed here. By the Dark Jedi, by this First Order, by the Hutts and the people in the crowd," Daylen explained.

"Are you one of those people unsympathetic to everyone's plight?"

"I'm not unreasonable, I understand that these people are troubled, that they lack entertainment and stimulation, that they're as bullied by the warlords here as the slaves are!"

"They are slaves in all but name Daylen, the original rulers of this world picked at random the youths of the planet to fight, tributes they were called," Vim explained.

The older man leant against the wall and touched the granite.

"The force leaves echoes, I know you have little belief, but its power is very real. I know you were once hurt when you listened, but sometimes hurt is the only way you can learn. What will you be Daylen Amell? Another warlord? Or just another gladiator?" he asked.

Daylen squeezed his new hand into a fist and took a deep breath. Once, twice, exhaling again and clearing his mind of the anger, clearing even his self righteous (he admitted he could be) thoughts. Even the desire to help others was gone, as he opened his mind to new feelings, and to the force itself. But beyond that, the magic within him allowed him to access the fade. As a gateway his consciousness turned the planet into just another part of the Fade. In that world, the spirits reacted to the echoes that the force left behind. The ghostly sprites took on forms and voices, and re-enacted times of the past.

Once this planet had been lush and filled with greenery. The sun made it a hot world, like a rain forest. A species once occupied this world, evolving from predators and becoming hunters that kept their instincts and savagery. Yet across generations they developed honour, mastered building, caste systems and laws and even genetic science. They built great pyramids, built the arenas to test themselves and new prey. They had even built great ships to go beyond the stars, weapons to become greater hunters, genetic modifications to become perfect.

But this species of predators soon fell to another great empire. It had reminded Daylen somewhat of what had happened to Thedas. A technologically superior species arrived on their world, trained in the force, this species brought forth ships that could build more ships. These 'star forges' drew upon the life force of the world itself. In time, as well as bleeding the native species to extinction, the world had been turned into a dead zone. Slaves were brought to the arenas to test, but then the empire left and returned to the stars. Settlers came, building a life away from governments. They came close to building a small life for themselves free of the corruption of traditional governments.

Then the criminals arrived, Hutts, pirates and warlords imposed their rule on those whom sought freedom. They brought weapons with them, droids and ships, and more criminals. In time those whom were free became prisoners to debts, prisoners to the greed of the criminals, prisoners to the need to work as the criminals eliminated all the farming and building. Sorrow and anger echoed across the planet, a need to fight back though was destroyed when the criminals demanded tribute.

Kat was a good hunter, she joined to protect her sister and mother from the wrath of the Hutts. Within the very cell Daylen sat at, she nursed her wounds, interacted with other slaves and even fell in love. She fought and fought, but ultimately failed, dying in the cell. Crixus too fought, fought to return to the woman he loved, even if it meant butchering everyone. But one day he left his cell and never returned. Gaian was fighting for his family and the man he loved, it was the only method he had of raising money for his family. He refused to kill though, and eventually his own master had droids come into the cell and beat him.

The arena, Daylen expanded his mind ever more to the arena. To the underground, to the seats, the joy, the disgust, the frustration. 'If only we could look away,' 'if only we didn't have to come here'. With a yell, Daylen awakened and roared in frustration with himself. He had truly misjudged the world. For every person who enjoyed the spectacles of the arena, there were many, many more whom were imprisoned within it. Attending the arena was a requirement, no one on this planet was truly free. And now, he felt the fear of the arrival of warlords, of the Dark Jedi.

Kas'Im looked at Daylen Amell in shock, seeing the shadow his body had become and the light that glowed around him. Perfect balance with the force, oneness with the force. It was a state he had heard of but had never seen before. But just as soon as Daylen had achieved it, the effect faded and he returned to normal to look at the Blade Master.

"It all needs to stop, every bit of it, the crowd is the key," Daylen said.

"The crowd is the key," Kas'Im nodded.

The call came again to go into the arena, Daylen strapped on his shoulder armour and flexed the fingers of his cybernetic hand. He refused the swords offered to him by the weapon's master and opted for a metallic staff. Maximus leant against the wall, watching Daylen walk to the gate. The young man wrapped a black scarf around his mouth and hefted the staff onto his shoulder.

"A crushing weapon, will you be obliterating your opponents today?" the Mandalorian asked.

"No," Daylen said.

The roar of the crowd hit Daylen as soon as the gates opened. And as soon as the gates opened, Daylen ran out into the sands. He saw his opponents were Gamorrean axe wielders. Slamming the staff against the ground, he jumped and kicked one of the Gamorrean's across the head. When he landed, he span the staff around, hitting two more opponents. He smacked, thrust, tripped and kicked and head butted the warriors. But he didn't kill, blood from broken teeth hit the sand, but not bone fragments or guts. The crowd became silent when Daylen stabbed his staff into the ground. His speed had increased by drawing a haste spell inwards. Daylen grabbed one of the Gamorrean's by his tusk and whispered in his ear:

"When a storm hits this desert world, be ready to fight for your freedom, spread it to those whom believe in it!"

"KILL THEM!" Kalla yelled.

Daylen brought his feet together and bowed, one hand on his chest and another wavering at the side like a stage performer. Looks of amazement, shock and awe crossed the faces of the people in the crowd.

"Daylen Amell the merciful!" someone shouted.

He walked off of the sands, passing Maximus as he did.

"You'll do no favours to anyone if you show mercy," the Mandalorian said.

"Showing mercy is how I show respect, and honour," Daylen said.

Maximus lowered his head, thinking over what Daylen said. In the following matches, when facing the cybernetically augmented gladiators, Kas'Im sliced their augments with his sword. He elbowed then, kicked them, hit them with the flat of the sword and blinded them with sand. His final opponent he held in a choke hold, drawing him to the floor. But like Daylen, he too did not kill and he too whispered the words into their ears. Moorint and Shriv led other gladiators in the arena, doing the best they could not to kill their opponents and defying the order of execution. When Daylen was sent out into the sands again he faced a Shistavanen, a Lassat, an Ishi Tib and a Talz. Brandishing a pair of Tonfa, he deflected their blades and clubs, punching them until they lost their consciousness. Again he whispered to their leader, the Lassat.

"Never in my years as a presenter have I seen a development like this folks, but it's not just you people who need to be pleased, nor is it just our Hutt patrons, what do our guests have to say?"

The First Order representatives looked down at the fight. When Daylen knocked out the Ishi Tib, he kicked out the Lassat's knees and kneed him in the face, grabbing the strap of his shoulder guard before he could fall. He looked up expectantly at the VIP's, listening to sweet music to his ears.

"Live!"

"Live!"

Finally, he saw the true faces of the crowd, those whom didn't crave violence, but change. Together they chanted, throwing up their thumbs in rhythm. The hooded member of the order stepped up to the balcony and raised his fist. Slowly, he pulled up his thumb, causing a glorious roar to shake of approval to shake the arena.

"When a storm hits this desert world, be ready to fight for your freedom," he told the Lassat.

The Lassat looked at him in shock, before smirking and falling unconscious. Daylen raised his hand in acceptance of the praise, in acceptance of the crowd. Just as they had accepted his will, he had accepted their desperation. When Daylen returned to Torvan's house, he trained with the other gladiators and took part in their games. A group of them had gathered, Moorint and his migrants, the Zabrak brothers and others.

"B1 battle droids, and these first order troops, they have shock sticks and blasters but not a lot else, get in close and we rob them of the advantage," Daylen said.

"What about shock collars?" one of the Zabrak asked.

Daylen stroked his chin, unsure of an answer for that. They trained that day, and in thanks for the fortune he had won Torvan, his master granted him time alone with any of the house slaves. Daylen chose Ranna. When the guard droids turned their back, Ranna sat beside Daylen.

"Thank you for keeping my people safe," she said.

"You don't ever have to thank me for that, I did nothing, Moorint's the one you should praise, what's the consensus of the slaves in the house?" Daylen asked, getting straight to the heart of matters.

"Only a rare few truly enjoy their place here, one half though wants to slit Torvan's throat in his sleep," Ranna said.

"And the other half?"

"Beat him to death, I never thought anything besides a Flesh raider could have such violent thoughts."

"I know what they did to your people, but I'm allying with them too," Daylen said.

"Do you truly believe you can get them to help us?" Ranna asked.

"Help us to help them maybe, why should I stop at one group of slave? I've been through the house and memorised what I can, but are there any details about security one wouldn't know about from a surface look?" Daylen asked.

"A digital security system, if an incident happens here, 'authorities' are contacted. Some of the rooms also have gas dispensers and the shock collars are all linked to the remote," Ranna explained.

"Are the collar controls linked to a specific network or do they operate under their own power?"

"They're controlled by a singular network, no one wants a master to shock their slaves to death so the collars have limits set by the network. Maya may know more, she's sometimes sent on errands," Ranna stated.

Maya, a human girl whom had been refitted with cybernetic hands. She had been given a shock collar and an armed escort. So if she attempted to run, she would be gunned down in the streets. But that didn't mean she couldn't do her part, spy, secure materials. With a rag she jotted down position of guards on the streets, in the arena and outside of the house. In the arena, Daylen brought down Super battle droids custom fitted with flame throwers and electrified weapons. He smuggled out small parts of the destroyed droids, passing them to a Sullustan engineer. When Maya visited him as his 'reward', she gave him the parts she smuggled.

"The ship yard is here, within sprinting distance of the arena pens. Torvan keeps his three freight ships here, and still operational V-19 Torrent Starfighters for his collection," Daylen stated to the group when they gathered for games.

"I'm a pilot, I'll take one of the fighters," Shriv said.

It was in the arena that Daylen and his fellow slaves slowly won the respect of the crowd. Wald and Kitster struggled, but of all people it was the Zabrak brothers who helped them. When the match was over, the Zabrak leader shook Daylen's hand and tipped his head in respect. Daylen walked onto the arena and raised his sword for the crowd. His opponent entered to silence, dragging his swords across the sand.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" the announcer yelled. "WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU! HE WAS THE CHAMPION OF THE ARENA FOR YEARS! NOW HE'S BACK OUT OF RETIREMENT!"

He wore a black coat and armour on his lower body. Armoured gauntlets were wrapped around some kind of blasters with swords attached to them. He wore a black helmet that covered his face.

"OBSIDIAN DUX!" the announcer named Daylen's opponent, and the crowd went into an uproar.

The blood lust and excitement was back.

Ord Mantell

The XS Stock Light Freighter, it was the successor of the Dynamic class freighter (the same ship as the Ebon Hawk) and was noted to have improved by bounds from the earlier model. Klue's search for allies extended to some of the lesser liked areas of the galaxy. To the dark places Jedi in their robes only really went to when the danger was obvious. But Klue was known on Ord Mantell, as both Jedi vigilante, ally of the police force and respected opponent of the underworld. If Klue had his way, he would do away with all of the crime gangs. But they were a generally accepted part of the populace, often doing favours for the people living on the streets and protecting them in ways the local government couldn't. Smugglers, in Klue's experience, were the kind of criminals you could rely on once you paid them.

Arthur Red was one such smuggler, one such criminal that Klue often worked with. A type of 'you scratch my back, we'll scratch yours' kind of relationship. No criminal gang was stupid enough to ask Klue to kill a rival or take part in murder (nor were they disrespectful enough). Honour existed even amongst thieves, that was probably why Arthur was married to a Mandalorian. Akaavi Spaar, called 'fire hand' by her clan for her first kill. Klue felt the Zabrak's eyes on him as he walked underneath the XS. He approached the human-Zabrak hybrid and captain of the XS.

"I don't owe you money do I?" Arthur asked.

During his time as a republic fighter pilot, he went by the call sign Ace. Amongst the Smuggling coalitions, he was known as Voidhound. Arthur dropped his hydro spanner and put his hat over his spiked head, running a hand through his beard.

"Klue," he whispered.

"How are things Arthur?" Klue asked.

"New crew, would love for you to meet them, look buddy I've got a job lined up and it's something that could lead to a big one down the line. Besides my new crew doesn't like the republic much, especially with recent actions," Arthur explained.

"I understand, but I'm not here on behalf of the republic or the Jedi order, I'm just here as a man who can't afford to look back anymore," Klue said.

Arthur nodded his head, calling his service droid, C2-N2 over, the protocol droid carrying two bottles in his hand. The smuggler took one bottle opened it, throwing the other one to Klue. He took a swig and smacked his lips together, sitting on a gear for his ship. Finally he looked up at Klue and shook his head.

"You're planning on going to Korvis aren't you?" he asked.

"I am, the people there need help, whether they realise it or not the First Order is holding them as hostages," Klue said.

"And you need fast ships to get people in and out, and crews that know difficult, downright suicidal missions," Arthur said.

"You were the first person on my list."

"That's comforting, but I can't work for free, I've got a crew to keep happy and fed now and like I said they're not big fans of the republic or causes for that matter, don't take it the wrong way..."

"I understand Arthur, not everyone wants to stick their noses out for a stranger, or help others. It doesn't make any of them bad people, it just makes them people. You remember when you helped us smuggle food past the Mantellian separatist blockade? It was the right thing to do back then, a lot of people were suffering, you didn't save everyone but you were able to help quite a few. That's what we're aiming for right now," Klue explained.

"And what are you offering in return?"

"Out there, a person's life is valued by a three digit credit number, there is no valuation of a person's life, but if you help me I will give you five hundred credits for every person you get off of that planet," Klue said and turned away from Arthur. "You have two days to answer, we'll be commencing the operation on Korvis then."

"Klue," Arthur called out before the Jedi reached the edge of the ship. "Even if you manage to save people, what guarantee do you have that it'll change anything?" he asked.

"Change isn't what it's about," was Klue's answer, before he left.

Dantooine

The old Jedi temple of Dantooine was said to be haunted, haunted by the spirits of the three masters killed by Kreia/Traya the betrayer. When Jay-Den and the other service corps members landed on the planet, they each felt a shiver through the force. Looking upon the ruins of where the failed Revan plot was hatched, served as a reminder of the risks that were inherent in daring decisions. As well as reminder of the dangers of the dark side. In fact the whole planet was a reminder. The old grove, where Jedi knight Juhani controlled a pack of Kath hounds. The old Rakatan temple, where the map left there put Revan and Malak on the path to becoming Sith lords.

"It isn't all bad," Kaine muttered.

In the days since the fall of the Triumvirate, a powerful family rose to restore Dantooine's economy and establish it as more than just a colony world. The Sandral-Matale family were the subjects of a popular story. Rahasia Matale had taken the name of her husband Shen, whom likewise took her family name of Sandral. This was to show both their grandparents that they turned away from their family feud. Building a life of marital bliss, they raised three children and later found fortunes after the passing of their parents. Sandral discovered a plasma vent and formed the 'Sandral Power company', Rahasia, taking after her brother became an archaeologist and established numerous museums across the system. Through their efforts, the people of Dantooine welcomed the Jedi again, and encouraged them and non-Jedi to take part in pilgrimages to the temple and other lands believed to once be held by the Jedi.

Certain areas though were kept from the public path. Those were the areas that Klue's students walked, with others. Jedi Padawans and service corpsmen ready to take on the next phase of their tests, or Knight-errant's seeking new wisdom within the force caves. A multitude of people followed them, and as they walked, they spoke of what was happening on Korvis. Sayla spoke with Zabrak twins and a robed Trandoshan, Kaine spoke with several humans, Tiko with a Twi'lek and a Tholothian and her Loth wolf. Jay-Den though walked the path alone, reaching a force cave where crystals resided.

His light became redundant when he reached the back of the cave, and was illuminated by the shining crystals that served as the source of the light sabres. Emotions resonated from the special crystals, absorbed by all those whom had explored the caves. Fear, wonder and serenity dangerously wobbled on the scales of the crystals. They were unbiased representations of the battle between the light and the dark that resided in all living creatures. Jay-Den wanted to do good in the world, he wanted to fight against all evil and strike it down before it struck at the good. So he pushed himself physically, and intellectually to study light sabre duelling and star fighter piloting. He logged the hours, practiced and continued to improve himself. Yet still he knew he was a long way from being considered a true Jedi knight.

"I am one with the force and the force is with me," most Jedi chanted the Jedi code.

But as Jay-Den crossed his legs together, he chanted what force priests would say. Not Jedi, but men and women so devoted to the force, so attuned to it that they spent their days praising it, spreading the faith and encouraging people to believe. 'May the force of others be with you' was a popular saying, taken directly from the days of the first Jedi, before it was simplified to 'may the force be with you'. The force was in everyone, that was the logic behind the saying. When people helped each other, it was the force in its purest form. Yet there were times Jay-Den knew he would be alone. People went through some of the most defining moments of their lives alone.

So whilst his companions walked with others and found their crystals through trial and error, and the wonder of exploration and discovery. Jay-Den reached within himself, analysed himself and through the force, trusted in what he would pull into his grasp. Laying out the pieces of his light sabre, he focused. The crystals shined and Jay-Den levitated off of the ground, followed by the parts of the light sabre. Slowly, a singular crystal was chipped from the mass and floated in front of Jay-Den's face. His confidence and desire to do good, clashed with his urge to destroy evil and frustration with the law. The blue of the crystal began to mix with a red, and the parts of the light sabre began to form over it. Silver alloys slid over a grey leather grip, a singular trigger could be seen underneath a smooth hilt.

Jay-Den returned his feet to the ground, took hold of his finished light sabre and ignited it. A purple beam slid from the hilt and illuminated his face. He held in his hand the embodiment of darkness and light in harmony. The representation of his anger and serenity, his light sabre. Emerging from the cave with his weapon he looked upon the students. They had finished before him and waited. The group had halved, but Jay-Den saw that whilst he sought strength for himself, his friends had found both strength for themselves and allies. Twenty Men and women whom would dedicate themselves to their cause. Twenty light sabres that ignited, a flurry of greens, blues, yellows, and purples. Jay-Den spotted one girl with a black sabre, and another with dual white beams glowing side by side from her hilt.

Sayla held in her hand a double bladed light sabre. As the most skilled fighter amongst them, she took on a blue crystal to embody the path of the Jedi guardian. Kaine held a sabre consisting of cheap parts, with a pair of dice hanging off a chain on the pommel, the yellow of his crystal representing his seeking of multiple skills as a Jedi Sentinel. A path that Jay-Den thought Tiko would follow with his engineering skills, but he was an ultimately peaceful man, and the green of his crystal represented his path as a Jedi consular.

Jay-Den raised his sabre, igniting it and he held it high with the other Jedi. A vow to the force that they would fight together for the same cause.

Korvis

The masked man walked with his cloak wrapped around his body, the Prophetess beside him. His knights walked on the streets, the people keeping away from them. He walked to the cantina, bopping his head to the music. Locals had been driven out in favour of the higher classes, or anyone intimidating enough to be given a pass. In his case, he flashed credits and was let in. Taking a seat, he watched the scum of the galaxy converse, and the even prettier scum laugh with one another. Murder was taking place in the arena, and they smiled. But then he heard surprising news.

"No bloodshed, that's not good for business," said a human in a Tux.

"Still, the crowd is entertained, the problem is, some of my own slaves have begun to refuse to kill," said another man.

The masked man smirked underneath his shield. Such an unexpected development could put a smile on his face. Still, it didn't mean the Prophetess's visions would be wrong. After all she saw far off potential futures, not the specific sequence of events that led to those futures. Rising from the stool, the masked man made his way out of the cantina, some people watching him fearfully as he moved.

"Who is he fighting?" he asked the Prophetess.

"Another assassin," she said.

Another roar erupted from the arena, reaching the ears of the Knights. The echo of blaster fire followed. Daylen rolled out of the way of Obsidian's blaster fire. The purple blasts streaked past him. Then the champion ran towards him, throwing a flurry of sword strikes that Daylen parried. Images of his practice sessions with Kas'Im flashed before his eyes. The blade master taught him much about sword fighting, noting Daylen had a talent for it. Maximus furthered his teaching by advising Daylen about his breathing patterns. He told Daylen he had good endurance and determination, but wouldn't need such things if he controlled his breathing, enabling him to control the amount of stamina he was using. So to Obsidian's surprise, he was fighting a better opponent than he previously expected. The armoured man thrust his swords at Daylen, only for him to deflect them multiple times.

'Improving as he fights, just as he did in the previous fights,' Obsidian mused.

He threw a cloud of sand into Daylen's face, and ran back firing his blasters. It struck through the sand, but hit only a distortion. Obsidian stopped, looking through the cloud. Daylen held his red fist up, black and red energy glowing around it. He was clearly in pain, fighting through it to conjure a shield of mana. Bits of blood spurted from his arm, and his opponent took that as a sign of weakness. Obsidian aimed his blaster shots at Daylen's feet. But Daylen threw his hand forward, releasing a blast of fire. Obsidian rolled, throwing his coat off as it was set alight. Plasma spread around Obsidian's swords and he scraped them together, releasing sparks onto the sand. Jumping and flipping, Obsidian kicked Daylen across the face and knocked back his sword with his blades. Daylen slid back, seeing that the force of the blow had blunted his sword. He gripped the tip of his sword, holding it tightly until what was left of the sharp edges cut into his skin. Then he dragged his hand across the blood.

He recalled what Vim told him, 'don't be afraid of your darkness, unleash it'. Vim must have been more than a gladiator, he had to be. How he spoke of the force, of the dark side of it. Spreading his blood across the sword, Daylen focused on the magic of the mark. The darkness spread across the sword, the fade twisting the sword. Darkness and a red haze rose from Daylen's arm and his eyes glowed red. Obsidian backed away, lowering his swords for a moment. He looked over his shoulder, at the Jawa Korrenze group. The gate beneath them opened and a droid emerged. It had a streamlined body, its arms splitting apart to reveal it had four arms, each equipped with an electro-baton.

Obsidian looked towards Raknar Tib, the man simply drank from his glass. The gate beneath him revealed a fully armoured man in a cybernetic harness, buzz saw blades attached to his gauntlets continually rotating. Another gaze was thrown at Callista Sojen, former Night-sister of Dathomir, she grinned as her fighter appeared in a burst of green flames. A Zabrak with skull like tattoo patterns, green fire burning in his hands. Finally, Obsidian's eyes settled on Kalla, whom opened her arms, presenting the larger gate beneath the VIP booth. There was a great hiss as the door opened. It crawled slowly out of the gate, saliva dripping from its maw. The creature had large horns on its head, and spikes running down its back, down to its tail. Crawling like a lizard native to its desert region, it was in fact however the most dangerous creature of Tatooine. The great Krayt dragon roared at Daylen, who smirked underneath his scarf.

The fade twisted his weapon, increasing its size, turning it into a black great sword with curved blades stretching from the edges of the main blade. Black and red fire burned around the sword and Daylen turned to his opponents with a snarl.

"Don't be afraid, OF THE DARKNESS!" he roared.

Next Chapter 13: The Rebel march

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

The Jedi were were introduced to through Klue's apprentices, were actually based on the artwork released for the High Republic series.