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Disclaimer: Violence contained in here...you don't like it, don't read it...etc..

The large boisterous drunkard stumbled from the tavern and into the alleyway parallel to the establishment, a large bottle of not-so-fine ale clutched in one large meaty paw. A swig of ale caused droplets of the liquid to run through the buffoon's shaggy beard as he stumbled his way down the alley, quite obviously in a stupor.

A lone figure watched this overbearing imbecile make his way down the ale, covered by the darkness that blanketed the sky. Below him a grunt escaped the fellow that made his way through the venue of transportation as he tripped over something that he hadn't seen in his rather 'distracted' state.

Lightly, he slowly slid down from the roof he occupied, plummeting down the ten feet separating him and his target. A mild sigh escaped clenched lips as he stalked between the few feet separating him and his target, stepping over the silent obstruction the drunkard had hit, he closed the distance silently.

A hand darted around the side of the unfortunate man's head and planted itself over the mouth, clenching the nose shut between thumb and index finger. Shutting off the reflexive cry for help, the lone sentinel drug the man backwards, opening his mouth and exposing a fair of deadly fangs that plunged themselves into the exposed neck.

Bloods was steadily removed from the victim's body as he felt the man he held in his grasp slowly and slowly go limp. With a slurp he drew his mouth back, lapping the excess blood from his chin he slammed the man into the wall and darted his hand into the man's neck, digging fingernails into flesh until it broke and he successfully ripped the man's upper esophagus, larynx, and jugular vein into the air, neatly casting them to the floor of the alleyway.

The man was now certainly not going to be doing anything, and as blood shot from the gaping wound in the throat he gently lapped at it, he aimed a heavy booted kick into the man's ribcage, again and again he heard the rewarding bone sickening crunch as ribs were destroyed. After several minutes of a good beating he dug his hand into the battered chest and ripped off the flesh coverings.

Bare hands gently removed the intestines from their resting place among blood and gore, and guided the long organ around the dead man's neck, using his own teeth he bit off the intestine cord when he had enough, and with a smile drug the man to the entrance to the alley.

Finding an extrusion in the building that would support the fop's weight, he looped the intestine around the thing he had chosen and pulled it taut, tying it tight he retreated back into the darkness, leaving the man hung around the neck with his own vital organs.


Upon daybreak, a report was filed at the local law enforcement agency of a strange and mysterious murder of a local bum in the outskirts of the capital city of Hapes. An investigation team was quick to arrive to the murder scene that had already been cordened off from the rest of the City, as to preserve the crime scene evidence -- and to keep the public at bay.

The Investigators were quite peturbed and curious about how the crime scene had a two-block radius of no-habitation, residents in the area were asked to leave until further notice, but were not told of the nature of the incident.

Upon viewing of the victim, the senior investigator on scene had remembered to forward odd incidents -- such as this -- to the local TSB/TF agent.

"Vicky, get a hold of Director Raymond Drylight, I have something I believe he should see for himself. Tell him to come to this location."

"Right, and sir? What should I tell the Director?"

"That it's urgent."


It was early. Too early. The sun was just rising.

Ray looked out the viewport of his hired AirTaxi. As it swooped through traffic, toward a slummier part of the City, Ray reviewed the message.

It was sent to him by a Vicky Mayanor from the local police force. They were investing a strange murder of a bum near the City outskirts. The investigators had never seen anything like it before, and had called upon himself, as they were to do. They sectioned off the area, and told some people to leave.

Then the Taxi landed.

Ray exited the craft looking ahead, towards the scene. He wasn't exactly dressed appropriatley, but they had woken him up with what they called urgent. He did have his shades on though.

When he saw the dead man, with the two disctinct bite marks on the mans' neck, and the manner in which he had been handled, he removed his sunglasses, and looked up at the Captain in charge; a distinguished Tunroth.

"Sir, are aware of what kind of creature does this?" Ray asked.

The Cpt. looked down, bunched up his face, and looked back up. "No, Mr. Director, I have no idea."

Ray looked at him sharply, and with a tone of assurance, said, "Exactly what I want to hear."

He then turned to face the rest of the Investigation team. "I am assuming supreme jurisdiction in this case. Nothing happens unless it passes by me. No exceptions. I am going to contact my superiors, and have them check this out. Quarrantine the area, and have anyone who isn't /vital/ to this investigation relieved."

With that, Ray opened a comm to Marc's personal unit.

"Hey, pal, you might want to meet me at this crime scene. I don't think you Amonites are alone anymore."Marc had initially ignored his comm unit, thinking that it was just another minor problem, such as one of the fighter pilots were having fun in a "borrowed" Miy'til fighter from the surface...

"Hey, Pal" he had heard Ray's voice, despite it was his longtime friend and partner, he still decided to ignore it.

"Why is he up so slaggin' early," Marc thought to himself, "Shouldn't he be recovering from a hangover?" He then atttempted to get back to seat.

Then it caught him, "You might want to meet me at this crime scene. I don't think you Amonites are alone anymore."

Immediately, Marc sprung up out of his bed to get the comm, but he heard the click of a hang-up. "Right, I'll be down."

He then got dressed in his normal attire, "Shirly, get me Director Drylight's location, forward it to a shuttle and get it fired up."

"Aye aye, sir."

Marc then walked across the hallway, and overrode the security on the door with his clearances, stepped in and waited for the door to seal behind him. "Luke, wake up... we've got a situation on Hapes. We're not the only Ones here."


Crimson eyes glowing within the darkness greeted Marc's words. Silence escaped backas the soft scraping of metal under fine linen escaped only to the senses like theirs. The silver glint of a mechanical hand disappearing from the darkness as words finally whispered forth softly.

"I know."

Nothing more escaped his lips as he walked past his friend, eyes burning crimson. Only then, when Luke had passed Marc did the other look down upon the floor to see faint droplets of scarlet coating the floor. With a single cant of a black eyebrow, Marc turned and followed after Luke. Whatever it was that was going on, he wasn't about to ask.

They both got to the prepped and ready shuttle, silent. Within twenties minutes, both Directors were on the ground, reaching the 'scene'. Ray was already there, looking things over. He had seen the body, but Luke and Marc had not. The blood had stopped drpping when both Luke and Marc had shown up.

The smell of dried blood, ripped and flayed flesh, the scent of Death...it was all in the air, and when both came across the body, eyes looking it over. Marc was silent for the moment...Luke however...

Luke just laughed.


Marc looked around for a moment, "Interesting." he muttered softly as he looked at the body, hung up by his own intestines. "Interesting indeed." He turned away to let Luke do as he wished and went over to talk with Ray about the entire situation. Things were getting weirder and weirder on this planet.

Luke stared at the body for a moment, his laughter fading as he moved closer, kneeling down and letting his finger come dangerously close to the dried blood. "He's close..." he whispered deadly soft once again as his eyes shifted off to the sides and a faint smell over took his senses. Words echoed in his mind over and over...

Kill it...

DESTROY IT...

Thank him...

Interesting artwork...

Four of the many Luke caught as he narrowed his eyes. "Come out childe, you can't hide all day, if you make me find you...I will hurt you." the words whispered past his lips in the strange Sith-Eroican language they all spoke. "Come out and play with us..."

The words were hissed softly, as was the faint little drop of blood falling down to the ground, splashing forth upon the dried blood of the dead drunkard. A little rippling effect. One sole drop...then another...

Drip...drip...drip...drip...

Time passed...

Then Luke's senses flared and he moved off, follwing the young one. He wasn't about to come out and play...so Luke would force him out...


He stalked silently through the street, his somewhat feral instincts guiding him in a slow looping path through the slums he preyed upon back to the place he had gutted that insolent lowlife a night ago. He knew he was being chased, and he knew that they would find him, what would happen then, he didn’t know.

But he did know one thing

People would die

As much as he was slightly fearful of these new arrivals hunting him, he was yet intrigued at the same time. Whoever they were, his instincts were telling him to go back to where he had sloppily gutted that fellow and face these…dangers.

The sun was annoying at least, the reason he was sticking to the shadows. He paused a moment, as a pair of Hapans passed by him, in security uniforms and he realized he had unwittingly walked right back to were he had slaughtered the fool.

He snarled and leapt up a drain pipe to the roof of a building, scowling at the sun as he felt it’s rays slowly ebbing away at his strength, and his hand curled around the butt of his Flechette Pistol as he slowly made his way across it, pausing at it’s edge and peering over the side.

Hapans everywhere, obviously investigating his ‘crime’, as they called it. And of course, the nagging persistence at the back of his mind…

…Yes, this presence was indeed close.


He stood there on the complete opposite side of the building, watching carefully as the other peered over the edge. This was indeed interesting. Crimson eyes stared silently as movement was made but silently. This one was so young...so...seemingly innocent. So perfect to be molded for his needs.

For the moment, the cloak protected Luke from the harmful sun. Indeed it was to early in the morning, but for one that hardly ever slept? Time was pointless. Words silently echoed from his mind, telling his companion, Marc, to look up, to the building slowly. All the while Luke himself moved forward, silently.

Then, he stopped at two feet from behind the other. Still silent as he looked down. Perhaps a second had passed since the other had looked over the edge now.

Clap...clap...clap.

The sound of laughter and appluase escaped into the air as Luke tilted his head to the right ever so gently, eyeing the weaponry that he had used while laughing and clapping. Then words proecceded to escape past fine red lips, away from the pallid white flesh.

"A fine display."

The words were soft-spoken, gentle in the morning breeze that swept up Luke's black cloak, moving it softly.

"A fine display indeed..."


Wedge slowly leaned his head back as he stood, his hand involuntarily detaching itself from the flechette pistol in his hands...yes, this was the presence. Interesting...they were one in the same, apparently the same beings drawn across the cosmos...perhaps...perhaps this was the reason he was at Hapes?"

Knuckles cracked as the two stood facing each other, black cloaks moving ominously in the shy wind that coated this fine morning.

"A Fine meal too..."

Words escaped from lips that were painted black, parting ever so slightly to make their way into the air. Eyes narrowed clenching orbs between pale flesh, he strangely no longer felt fear, almost as if he was....home?


Before their eyes was a white flash...a flash of everything.

A flash of nothing.

Slowly, within a blur of movement. Pale fingers slowly curled together around black and soft fabric. Slowly and surely, blonde hair, shortened with a few streaks of, barely noticed within his hair.

Memories had floated up as Wedge had turned and looked at him. The barest curves of an old smile came across his lips. With an ever-so-slight cant of his head, while soft and pale blue eyes scanned up and down.

"You've changed since I last saw you Wedge."

The voice came across soft and smoothly as he took another step forward, slowly however, just in case this man wasn't exactly like the friend he once knew. Wedge just smirked slightly back at Luke.

"Luke...indeed it has been a long time." Wedge's voice was almost as soft, a bit less refined and controlled as Luke, that was a given. "You went and disappeared a few months before I did, din't you?"

"Yes, I did." he muttered softly, holding out his true hand. "Can tell, I'm not much of a Jedi Knight...or even close to a Master of that regard."

Wedge smiled somewhat at that and took Luke's hand and shook it gently, "Way to long." That Corellian grin rose to his lips, "...like my artwork, I see."

"Yes, very...interesting." Luke responded and laughed again.

The past was catching up with him now. It had been a long time since he had seen Wedge...way to long. And now, to see his friend like this? Things were indeed looking rather interesting...

The Past was Imperitive...


The past was indeed different than this new future they lived. They had both found...sanctity? Perhaps sanity? He doubted both of those as answers.

Wedge's black painted lips pursed themselves.

Luke had been so...boyish, perhaps was the word the last time he had seen his friend. On Endor...
Yes, he had been different back then.

They had all changed, everyone of them. Time itself had massacred their forms.

Lips unpursed themselves and words finally escaped the confines of fleshed and tossed themselves into the morning air.

"Of course it was interesting..have you ever seen that before?" he chuckled and then he paused as these words sprung, and paused, thinking before he spoke next.

Words echoed themselves inside his mind. Luke, Wedge. They had both been so eager once, so naive. Pilots eager to make their mark, perhaps? No...they had each their own purpouses for doing what they had done.

Perhaps that was the reason they had ended up like this...no...No. It was different, and the answer he Didn't Know.

"When did we change...?"


"When did we change?"

The words echoed into his mind softly, slowly...

When? When, yes, when? All to long ago. Heroes were everywhere, the villians were gone.

"When did we change?"

Into the bleaness of the mind so old did these words roam with a stinging bite. A pain so severe...

Did we? Yes, all to easily. Like pawns falling to the wrath of a Queen. Left, right and center, the heroes died off, fading from the light and into the darkness. Not many existed in this day and age. A Hero? That was a fallacy...there are no Heroes no more.

"When did we change...?"

The words repeated off of his own lips as stream-lined eyes slowly lifted from darkness to the pallid flesh of the nearest proximity.

Change? Yes, that dreadful and chilling word. Changed...we changed to long ago. We changed from being the Heroes...protecting those dear. All that to this, to scum. To parasites. To what they now called existance and what they enjoyed to an extent.

Soft liquid blue eyes looked up silently. Eyes of rememberance as the words passed upon his lips once again, this time, however, they uttered not a sound. The words were lost within his mind. Their mind. Our mind.

Then crimson filtered forth as he looked away and towards his dear friend. Silent and staring...


Marc had landed from his light jump, his eyes locking for but a moment with Luke's. He was about five meters behind Wedge, his landing went unheard except to the highly adept ears of other Amonites. "What should be asked, General Wedge Antilles... is why you're not with Rogue Squadron, and why you're here, AWOL, on the planet Hapes."

The youngest of the three, he walked foward, to the left and inbetween both Luke and Wedge, "But as for your question. 'When did we change?'"

He paused, looking towards the rising sun, despising the brightness of it so, then looking back to Wedge, "We were changed the second we were Turned... The second whichever Amonite sunk their thirsty, yet infidelic canines into our flesh, sucked our body's dry of blood, and Turned us. This is the moment we ceased to be who we previously were."

"Say... I used to be the head of the Intelligence group that brought down the galaxy's largest Empire," He suddenly looked at Wedge, a feral look on his face, "But now look at me. I'm the Director of the present Trade Federation, tied for the most powerful being in the Galaxy, and constantly thirsting for blood." The grin suddenly faded from his expression, it growing sober instantly.

"But just because we are what we are, this does not mean that we can't pretend to be who we once were."


Well, at about this time Ray was wrapping up his explanation of how and why the two Directors had leaped onto a building-top. "...and it's because of the current orbital pattern of the planet that these Paleomagnetic waves reoccured, and in that slight moment gravity could be manipulated. The Directors knew of this and, um, fell in pursuit of a suspect."

A few of the investigative team had blank stares on their face, but, for the most part, they soaked it all up as truth.

Ray thought to himself, 'Ray, you magnificent bastard!' He then had the team conclude its investigation, proclaiming that his people would finish up.

As the Hapan team walked off, they were stopped by a man in a suit, bearing TSB/SD markings, with black sunglases on. He raised a small metal cylinder, pushed a small button after correcting the settings, and a red flash occured. He gave the team a new memory of the investigation, and both parties parted the scene.

Raymond Drylight himself entered the empty building Marc and Luke had ascended. He was curious as to who it was they were talking to.


Wedge looked at Marc and gently cocked his head to one side, pursing his lips and blowing out a breath.

"Why...I am here, is..of no consequence..."

Words sprung from their interior prison and off black painted lips and into the air as he paused, looking at Luke for a moment and then slowly back to Marc, then to space, fixating his eyes on that spot.

"Perhaps...our change was not important? Perhaps we never...did change? Maybe the fact of the matter is that...the galaxy changed?"

Yes..perhaps that was it. It was a new galaxy out there, out in the void.

There were no heroes anymore, it was a world filled with evil and corruption. No...perhaps they never did change, but the world changed around them.

But...perhaps...they both changed. Change...such a horrid and complex word. He didn't know, when he came to think of it, what the galaxy, or he himself had become.

He was a nomad now, a nomad of the time streams. Or...not? A sigh escaped tightly clasped lips and eyelids closed for a split second. He turned to look at Luke and Marc again, and then, nothing. Just the sky.


Words whispered into his mind. Those whispers probed the voices interest. Piqued them into a quiet frenzy as they caused his body to twitch ever-so-softly. He stared for a moment as his body twitched once again. Marc's eyes instantly shot to Luke. Narrowing slightly, he did not move however.

The words in his head, driving him slowly insane.

Slowly, Luke sat down upon the roof, pushing the hood of his cloak. As the sun smashed against his flesh, ebbing away at his reserve of power, words leaked out of his lips.

"Change comes with death...death comes with change." The words hissed out in the Amonite language that only Marc and Wedge would understand, but...then words leaked from him that were in Basic.

"We're going back today. Leaving the Hapan system. We're going...if you two wish to remain, that is up to you."

Luke's face slowly contourted as he twitched again, his eyes crimson...but...so very dark...so very dark.

They were never this dark before, as Luke stared down at the panels that covered the roof. And then, darkness faded into his vision. All anyone else saw was air after a single and soft sucking noise was heard.

No one heard the tears that came across Luke's eyes, dripping blood down across the floor of his quarters in the 'Vette. No one knew the wiser about how Luke was slowly losing control of himself. Only Marc.

Only then, after he was alone did the blade come out slowly as the marks were etched upon flesh. The sign of Death, something he was going to inflict upon the Galaxy. Within the tears of blood came laughter. Inaned laughter that echoed in the sound-proof room. Until there was nothing.

The only sound was the faint drip of blood...echoing even louder with every single drop.


Wedge lowered his head at Luke's dissapearance. It was almost saddening to see his friend like this, however he hadn't felt anything like remorse or pity since...change. Yes, change was a curse. A sigh escaped lips as his face turned to Marc, his green eyes starting at the other Amonite like a blaster bolt.

"He's...different.."

Words echoed into the air, carefully avoiding the word change as they chose their existence.
He let his hands fall to his sides, another sigh echoing across his lips.

"Give me something to do, Director..."

A smirk etched it's way across is face. For lack of a better word, he was drafting himself. He smirked a bit, his fangs bearing themselves before he brought them bac into his mouth and blew a breath out.

He looked up at the sky briefly, briefly glimpsing Luke in his mind's eye. Not as he was now, as the farmboy he had first seen in Yavin Base's briefing room.

Yes, they had changed too, but so had the galaxy.


Ray was ending his jog up the stairway. It was longer than he thought. He reached the door and kicked it open, and stopping his jog when he saw Luke and Marc conferring with another dark, shady figure.

Then, Ray noticed the fangs. The other figure let his fangs show out as he sighed.

Ray started walking towards the trio. "So, what's up?" He had a half grin, half curious look to him.

He stopped about 3 feet away from them and thought, 'Well, what wonders will a third one bring?'

He looked from one to the other with his arms folded, calculating possible answers.


Marc gave a sidelong glance at Ray, "Another Amonite will bring us quite the brigade..." He then looked directly at Wedge, "Well, there's an open space on the shuttle... we need to get going pretty soon anyways."

With a slight pause, he grinned, his face becomming almost maniacal, giving glances to both of the men, "How do you like your Jedi? Flame boiled and shattered into minced-meat I hope..."

He then paused to judge the reaction of both of them.

"Well, either way, I feel like killing a certain person that was responsible for us getting to Hapes all too late." With that, he spun around, and walked towards the flights of steps, since they were travelling with one human.

"Oh, and Wedge?" He paused, turning to expose only one half of his face. "Don't eat Director Drylight... he doesn't tend to like it much. Just ask the aliens that are the cause for his cybernetic arm..." His voice trailed off as he meandered down the stairs.


He looked at Marc, adressing the Jedi question about his apetities as he followed the other Amonite down the steps, though it would have been easier to jump, he pulled the hood of his cloak back over his face, plunging features back into blessed darkness.

"I enjoy the fileted, eviscerated, gutted, Drawn and Quartered" he replied, the smirk evident on his face at that very jolly thought. He also snickered a bit as Marc made the second statement, turning a bit to look at Ray.

"Don't worry...he looks dreadfully sour anyway, and durasteel probably tastes horrible.." he sneered, face contorting to make the sound as it escaped from his lips he paused one last time to look up, whispering softly.

"Luke...good luck..."

His head tilted back downwards to the ground as he paced off after Marc.