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In the years before he had found Keris, Locke had lived a largely isolated life, never forging any connections and restricted from possessing any by his former master, Voyde. Finding Keris and bonding with her had changed that, and his later companion Miles had given the white wolf lives to value over the missions he was given. Having a family in his brother Kajex, becoming part of his pack, had made him happier than he'd ever remembered being.

It made the current isolation sting that much more. His eyes closed, deep in meditation, he could only feel the barest glimmer of his brother lightyears away. Though not nearly on the other side of the galaxy, even being in the neighboring sector was too far for him.

You got this, Locke.

It must have taken him great effort to say just those four words, over so vast a distance; yet the feeling faith in him was enough to bring some comfort to Locke.

"I'm coming back," he said, both to himself and to Kajex.

"One minute out," the MAAT pilot informed him, looking back into the hold.

Locke opened his eyes, getting to his feet and turning to fact the rest of the passengers. The Jedi Guardian was accompanied by three Jedi Padawans, a single Antarian Ranger Captain, and five Ranger Explorers; a team hand-selected by Master Skywalker himself. Though Locke had his doubts that he was best-suited to lead them on the operation, they had thus far followed his orders without question.

It had started with an investigation on Tiss'sharl, encountering a fragment group of Circle of Syn cultists attempting to seize the world's black market for Jedi and Sith artifacts. Several skirmishes had led to one of the Padawans discovering hyperspace coordinates being erased from their terminal, managing to secure the most recent log. The Jedi team had managed to damage and follow the Circle's last fleeing vessel into hyperspace, and now were waiting for what they'd find on the other side.

"You've come with me this far, and you've done incredibly well," Locke said, nodding to them. "If it were up to me, we would all be going home and getting some rest, but Master Skywalker is counting on us to see this through." He turned to the pilot. "If my hunch is correct, the coordinates we picked up on Tiss'sharl will bring us to a place the Empire has tried its hardest to keep hidden. Just be on your guard, trust in the Force, and we'll get out of this safely."

"Sir, you can count on us," the leading Ranger said, saluting him.

He turned to the pilot. "Pull us out once we're in range. We need to know what we're dealing with, range be damned."

"Aye, sir."

He stared ahead into the blue void of hyperspace, his focus centered dead ahead. Before long the ship's terminal pinged and the pilot pull the ship cleanly out of hyperspace, the blue tunnel dissipating and a streak of stars heralding their return to realspace, along with a gray-blue planet that appeared just as the ship slowed to sublight. Locke leaned over the pilot's chair, feeling a chill in his spine as he stared at the world - it was teeming with life and dark side energy.

"Log that planet, Captain. Where are we?"

"Somewhere in the Esstran system, but it's not a charted world," the pilot told him. "Galactic eastern border of the former Sith Worlds." A pause. "I'm reading a Type I atmosphere, terrestrial-class planet; twenty-seven thousand kilometers in diameter, standard gravity and a single moon. Limited but significant habitations detected." She looked back at him, shaking her head. "This one is new to me, Master Locke."

"I know it," the wolf said grimly, recognizing the description. "It's Thule. It used to be a Separatist world during the Clone Wars."

"How could that be if it hasn't been charted?" the pilot asked.

"You'd be surprised how many worlds Emperor Palpatine erased, both from galactic maps and from existence," he said darkly. "It's a former Sith world with abandoned academies. That alone made it critical for him to hide it from the rest of the galaxy. Whatever is down there, I'm sure the Circle will be after it."

An alarm rang out on the console and the pilot jerked up. "There's our runaway!"

Some half a kilometer ahead was the bright emissions of the cultist starship. Locke got into the co-pilot's chair and started aiding her, locking the target and reading the data carefully. "It's still damaged from the dogfight. Life support is on its last legs and the reactor is damaged. It needs to make a landing or it'll blow."

"It's heading for a landmass to the north, away from any cities," she noted. "Thirty seconds to breach the atmosphere, and we've got rough weather ahead."

Locke furrowed his brow at their approach, his eyes lingering on the dense cloud cover and flashes of lightning within. Even with a damaged life support system, the cultist ship did not deviate from its heading, diving directly into the clouds. "Desperate or insane, that's a huge risk their pilot is taking. Is this ship rated for this kind of descent?"

"It'll hold for a few moderate zaps, but I'll need to power down weapons and life support to keep the shields up," she said. Locke did not miss the concealed tension in her voice, but said nothing about it as she worked. "It's going to get bumpy, strap in and hold secure your weapons!"

Seconds later the ship rocked violently, buffeted from all sides; Locke was sure if he hadn't fastened his harness he'd have been thrown from his seat, no matter how well-trained in the Force he had been. With a quick glance he checked on the rest of the team, all of them seated and secured, then turned back and kept his eyes on their scanners. More to calm himself and not think about the possibility of their ship being struck by a bolt, he kept refreshing the scan every few seconds - a task made more difficulty by the violent jostling.

"Getting a signal," he said, a blip appearing on the scan. "We're close to breaking the cloud."

"There!"

Locke looked up, his blood running cold at the dark shape below. There were miles of rock, and rugged terrain with sparse vegetation, laced with large patches of what Locke assumed were the planet's bioluminescent fungi. But even in the dim light he could clearly see the massive, rectangular profile of a war ship embedded in one of the mountains.

"Master Locke... is that...?"

"A World Devastator," Locke said, his ears pinning pack and a slight curl along his muzzle. "I thought the New Republic had wiped all of these out."

"The New Republic didn't know about this planet either," she pointed out. "But I'm looking at the damage right, then this one is a wreck. There's no way it's flying, and if it can't fly it can't strip the planet for resources."

Locke shook his head."Small comfort. I'm still reading energy signatures in the ship. We need to get down there, this is clearly where the cultists are going."

"Then hold tight, I'm going to bring the ship near it!"

Ahead of them, the cultist vessel was touching down on a flat stretch of rock just a few hundred meters from the warship's wreck. Despite the low light surroundings, Locke could just barely make out the shape of several figures running towards it, briefly revealed by a flash of lightening. A sharp boom erupted somewhere close, but before Locke could point it out, another flash blinded him.

The ship jolted violently and a deafening crash shocked through the ship. A swooping feeling of dread filled the wolf and he braced against the co-pilot's controls, covering his head in anticipation of what would happen next. Somewhere within the ringing of his ears he could hear the pilot swearing up a storm, the ship pitching to one side and leaning upward for several seconds. Suddenly, the back of the ship seemed to catch earth and slammed the ship down, letting out a horrible crunching sound that was soon accompanied by the grinding of metal against stone.

Moments later, the ship went still.

Beside him, the pilot let out a sigh of relief. "Thank the Force, that was a close one!"

Locke groaned, rubbing at the sore spot beneath his harness. "Lightning strike, I take it?"

"Sadly, yeah," she said, taking off her helmet and running a hand through her red hair. "More powerful than your average lightning bolt, systems look fried. Go check on the rest, I'll assess the damage - though I'm not hopeful," she added with a sigh.

Locke nodded and got up, returning to the passenger hold. Though there were a few groans and panicked looks, everyone seemed to be conscious. "Any injuries?" A few moments passed with them checking themselves and each other, with a few mutters noting a lack of wounds or mishaps. "Good. We need to disembark quickly, they may try to stage a counter-attack."

"Got it, sir," the leading Ranger said. "How do you want to do this?"

"Change of plans - we've got a damaged World Devastator out there, and the cultists just made a beeline for it." Several groans of frustration sounded at the news. "I know, I don't like it either. But it doesn't look active yet. We need to find out what the Circle of Syn wants with it, and try to destroy it if we can."

"If there's a point of entry near its foundry, we could try to set off its reactor," one of the Rangers suggested.

"What is a World Devastator?" one of the Padawans asked. "I've only heard of them as super weapons, but nothing else."

"AI-guided war machines that strip the world of resources with tractor beams, then use those resources to fuel itself and its foundries to create weapons, ships, combat droids - anything the Emperor wanted them to," Locke said as he checked the exit hatch for an emergency release. He found it near the top, grabbing the handle. "I don't think I need to elaborate on why a ship like that needs to be destroyed. Captain, what's our status?"

"The damn ship is screwed," she groaned, stepping into the hold and checking her blaster pistol. "Not a single system survived that shock."

"Then we'll have to get off this planet another way," Locke said. "Our first step will be to secure a ship; second, we scuttle the warship. If we find information then take it, but no taking risks. We won't have the luxury of taking prisoners - don't kill if you don't have to, but be prepared to if it becomes necessary." He nodded to the hatch. "I'll open it on three, then we make for the ship. We ready?"

The Rangers, Padawans, and pilot all nodded, holding their weapons at the ready.

"Then may the Force be with us. One... two... three."

He yanked the handle and the hatch shot away from the ship, banging across the rocks as he leapt out of the ship and ignited his lightsaber. The others followed quickly, the Padawans spread out in front while the Rangers took the rear with their rifles at the ready. The smell of ozone and the constant sound of rumbling and lightning blasts were unnerving as they jogged towards the World Devastator, and Locke could feel a sense of dread coming from his team as they approached. Yet Locke had learned long before becoming a Jedi the value of committing himself fully to the battle when lives were at stake. A lapse in focus or a distraction was all it could take to end his life, and so he kept his eyes forward and his senses alert.

They were within thirty meters of the wreck when a dozen black-armored figures sprang out from behind the larger pieces of debris. He brought his lightsaber up on instinct and deflected a pair of blaster bolts, just as the Rangers returned fire. The Padawans kept formation as he lead the way, the white wolf keeping his polearm moving and intercepting the hail of blaster bolts that peppered their approach. One of the figures charged in with a vibroblade, his war cry cut short as Locke dashed in and jabbed his blade into his chest, ending him with a swift killing blow.

Now several other cultists rushed at them, brandishing blades and blaster pistols and meeting them at close range. The Padawans engaged carefully, not used to the aggressive approach of an enemy seeking to kill them, yet held up a stout defense as they put their months of training to use. The Rangers behind them broke into two groups and began flanking from either side, taking cover behind other piles of debris and opening up on the few cultists that were firing from range.

"Less than a dozen, sir!" one of the leading Rangers called out.

"Keep them suppressed!" Locked ordered, cutting past another two duelists. He spared a brief glance at the Padawans, one of them having slain their opponent with a troubled look on their face, clearly distracted by the act. "Focus, Padawan!" he barked, getting her attention. "Meditate on it later!"

It was a tough decision in the heat of battle, and Locke knew it. A Jedi was to value life and preserve it when it was possible, yet the cultists were not giving them an easy option. It would be a risk to the Padawans (who weren't even his own students) if they tried to take prisoners for questioning. He bit back a growl of resentment, focusing the Force in his mind and directing it to the Ranger captain.

Use your ordinance, these cultists are ready to fight to the last.

The Ranger looked to him and nodded silently, before letting out a shrill whistle. A Ranger from either flank ceased their firing, pulling a detonator from their belts and chucking them behind the debris piles. A shout of dismay rang out for half a second before being drowned out by the deafening crack of a nearby thunderstrike; everyone hit the ground, seemingly mistaking the sound for the detonation. A second and third explosion rocked the vicinity, raining rock and metal over their heads while several cultists went flying, hitting the ground without further movement.

Locke was one of the first to get back to his feet, his focus unwavering as he approached what had seconds before been the enemy firing line. Now all that remained were less than a half-dozen bodies. He rolled over one of the cultists, his featureless mask falling off and revealing the face of a pale-skinned human, his eyes lifeless. Locke grimaced, then looked around - none of the others were in any better shape, and he could not sense life among them. He shook his head, then turned back to his team.

They had not reached safety unscathed. One Padawan had taken a blast bolt to the leg, and was now limited to healing their only other injury, a ranger who had taken a shot to the breastplate. "How are you holding up?" he asked, kneeling beside them.

"I'll be fine, but neither of us will be able to fight," said the Padawan tending to the injured Explorer.

"Sorry sir," she coughed, gritting her teeth. "Tried to shoot them before they shot me."

He put a paw on her shoulder. "Take it easy. We'll get you out of here, that's more important right now." He looked up to the rest, who had taken defensive positions near the only visible entrance, a wide, hangar-like chamber filled with wreckage. Nothing stirred within, yet that didn't prevent a chill settling in the wolf's back, a flicker of unease that seemed to pulse both from instinct and the Force.

Something was not right.

He turned to the Ranger Captain. "Any movement?"

"Nothing," he said. "But I'm counting on these cultists having backup. I was active in the NRDF when we faced these things. They'd be fools not to have this place manned."

"I'm open to any information you can share, then. This operation is as much yours as it is mine."

The Captain rubbed his chin for a few moments. "I remember the layout for these big bastards, from the first and last times we had to deal with them. From what I'm seeing the foundry must be buried underground, but there should be secondary hangars on the middle levels, towards the front. The reactor should be in the center of the ship." He turned to the wolf. "The foundry is AI-controlled, but still has a command deck and crew facilities, if that helps."

Locke spared a glance at the injured on their team. "It very well might." For a moment he weighed their options, then turned to them all. "Captain, we need you and your Rangers to secure any medical facility or supplies that you're able to, then stabilize our wounded. See if you can lock down the hangars and find us a ship to fly us out of here."

"You're talking like you aren't going to be with us," the captain noted, frowning.

The white wolf nodded, still feeling that tingle in the Force within the ship. "I'll be heading to the reactor to disable it. Going alone will speed things up."

"Then you'll want these." The captain reached into his satchel, pulling out a trio of detonation charges and a palm-sized trigger. "Depending on if they're active or not, the damage to the reactors will be immense, so we'll need to secure transport before we even consider blowing it up. Keep your comlink on, we'll let you know if we find a ship out of here."

Locke nodded, then turned to the rest of the squad. "I'll head in first and draw attention while making my way to the generator. Wait two minutes, then move in and find a route to the main deck. We need a ship off this planet, your task will be to secure one. If I don't make it back, you're in charge for the rest of the operation, Captain."

The Ranger Captain salute. "Yes sir. May the Force be with you."

"And with you all," Locke replied. He took a breath, pushing back his worries - he would need to trust that the squad would be able to handle themselves, and that he would be able to draw all eyes to himself.

Taking just enough time to detach his lightsaber from the rest of the shaft, he turned to the hangar and entered.

The innards of the World Devastator were far from the most unnerving derelicts Locke had traversed through. As a orphaned pup on Coruscant he had spent many years in the deepest reaches of the undercity, digging around scrap and salvaging discarded valuables in environments that were far filthier and less hygenic. Nevertheless, the halls of the disabled warship seemed to barely hum with the dark side, echoes of the destruction it must have caused while active. Deeper within, he could feel a more pervasive shadow lingering, as if to beckon him closer.

It was not as if he was being watched actively, he knew; while security systems were not Locke's forte, he had learned enough about them from his brother to know when they were disabled or inactive, and so he was quickly surprised to see most of the warship's subsystems were completely inert. The emergency lighting was far too dim for human eyes, though his wolfish eyes were more than enough to let him see clearly. He kept his steps silent and fleet, ears alert for any unusual sound the deeper he traveled, with only the light of his lightsaber illuminating his immediate surroundings.

"He's down here somewhere! Find the little son of a bitch and frag him!"

The sound of the voice caused Locke to gasp and backpedal, his lightsaber falling to the floor with a clatter as he fell on his backside. His eyes went wide, paws going to his muzzle. The sound he had made was too sharp, too young for a Kanj'Isha in his thirties. The lightsaber extinguished its blade automatically, yet when Locke made to reach for it he immediately noticed two things - the design of its hilt was not that of his own weapon, and it was far too big for his paws, which now seemed half their size. What unnerved him the most, however, was the echoing voice in his ears, a memory from decades prior.

He heard the first footsteps from behind, the cold grip of fear closing around him as he held up the oversized weapon defensively. Everything he'd learned under Voyde seemed to be gone, leaving him rooted to the spot as a human gang member in a mish-mash of armor raised his blaster carbine and opened fire. Locke's moves were clumsy but automatic, his arms twisting the weapon around and catching the bolt mid-air, deflecting it into an ancient sewer wall. A second shot zipped past his left ear and he dodged to the right, shouldering into a sewage pipe. Pain lanced through his arm, but inspiration came with it, the wolf pup hacking his energy blade through the pipe and filling the space between him and the thug with a deluge of rancid sewage.

He turned to run, managing a few steps before his foot caught a pile of refuse and tripped him up, his borrowed weapon clattering away. Prone and defenseless he rolled onto his back just in time to see the thug force his way past the burst sewage line, now covered in unspeakable wastewater contents. When the ganger tried to open fire, however, the weapon only clicked and fizzled, its exposed content apparently too soaked with water to function right. The thug tossed aside his rifle with a snarl and charged at the pup with a war-cry.

Before he could get to his feet the thug had grabbed Locke and pinned him against the wall with his hands closed around his throat. Hot tears of pain and fear rolled down the pup's face, the knowledge of his impending death making it that much harder to struggle even as he kicked and flailed; but a more powerful part, one he could sense was determined to see him survive, seemed to control all that happened next. His right paw reached out blindly, calling upon a need so desperate that he could think of nothing else. The moment the lightsaber rolled into his paw his fingers closed around it and triggered the activation switch, bringing the weapon around as the blade ignited. It met its mark cleanly, stabbing through the thug's chest.

The next thing he knew he was on the floor with a thud, the back of his head smacking against the wall. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he looked around in fearful confusion, his face wet with tears, the ghost of an ancient pain tingling around his neck and throat - and the hollow pain of regret at taking another being's life. It had been as vivid as reliving the moment itself, a perfect memory of the day Locke had cut down a man, just to save himself.

"... Curious. So that's how it started, then."

The intrusion into his mind was enough to get Locke back on his feet in half a second, his lightsaber brought up to meet whatever enemy was ahead. He could feel the presence retreat quickly from his mind, Locke trying to reach out with the Force to intercept it.

"Who are you?!"

He was met with only silence, occupied by the low hum of his weapon. The white wolf took in a deep breath, pushing back the fear and pain he'd felt with reason and resolve as he deactivated his weapon and holstered it. The illusion had been potent, far more than anything his beloved Keris had managed at this point in her Jedi training - but it was just an illusion. He'd survived that crucible decades ago, had come out stronger. If he had to relive more, he would do it. He shook himself back into an alert state, pushing on ahead, his ears perked for any more noise.

His vigilance served him well soon enough, his ears catching the unmistakable sound of chatter around the corner, just as he was nearing the reactor sector.

"... sighted outside. No word from the guards."

"They're probably wasted at this point. If it was just the NRDF we'd have wiped them out, but until us acolytes are augmented we're not going to last long against their Padawans."

"The leader, Locke, is the goal. If we can wipe him out it'll be a hit against the Jedi. Call it in if you see him, we'll need every gun to stand a chance."

Locke drew the metal shaft on his back and waited, their footsteps getting closer. A plan had formulated at the information, something that would require less-than-lethal force to employ. The moment he was sure they were within striking distance, he rounded the corner and swung.

The rod caught one of the stormtroopers across the helmet and sent him staggering against the wall, while the other panicked and fired a wide shot from his rifle. Locke dashed in and shouldered him hard, slamming the rod into the back of his knee before kicking him in the faceplate. By now the other trooper was on his feet, his rifle held up as he started shouting into his helmet comlink.

"Contact on reactor level, it's the traitor, Locke! All hands to the react--"

It was what the wolf had waited for, certain now that the squad would have time to look around and procure a ship, so long as the cultists were focused on him. He gave the trooper no more time to speak, sending him flying with a burst of Force energy that knocked him out cold. A surge of alarm was all the warning Locke was given, his paw drawing his lightsaber in a smooth, fast motion and intercepting the blaster bolt fired from the remaining trooper; the bolt bounced off the blade and exploded in the soldier's face, ending his life.

There were no klaxons, no alarms that rang through the halls of the World Devastator, yet Locke could feel a flare in fear and aggression in multiple directions. His actions had not gone unnoticed. As risky as the situation was Locke pressed on, keeping his lightsaber lit and his senses alert; the darkness he'd felt earlier seemed more oppressive the closer he was to the reactors.

He had just reached the hatch leading to the reactors when he heard the sound of more soldiers somewhere down the corridor. "He'll be here, spread out and open fire the moment you see him! We can't let him destroy the reactor!"

Locke checked the hatch, noticing there was just enough power running for the hatch and its lock to function. "Too late for you, I'm afraid," he muttered as he jammed a security spike into the hatch's control panel, the aperture sparking violently as it unsealed the room. He dashed in and sealed the door behind him, stabbing the control panel with his lightsaber. Almost immediately there was a pounding at the hatch mixed with muffled curses as the soldiers realized what he had done.

He turned away from the hatch and continued. Before him were a trio of spherical generators, surrounded by wide catwalks above a deep, bowl-like chamber. The spheres were completely unshielded yet still humming loudly with energy. Knowing he wouldn't have much time before the troops found a way in, he pulled the detonator charges from his belt and began to set them at the base of each, trying to ignore the cold chill in the back of his mind. He had reached the second generator and was setting it when he heard a dull creak nearby, the wolf sighing with a wince.

He finished setting the charge and stood. "Come on out. I know you're there."

For a few moments nobody answered. A ripple of movement drew his eyes to a brown-cloaked figure ambling along the catwalk. The figure drew his hood back, revealing the jackal-like face of a Nalroni male, his gaze fixed directly at the white wolf. "I had no intention of keeping myself hidden."

Locke frowned, folding his arms. "That's awfully forthcoming of you... Khios."

The jackal gave him a pleasant smile. "You've heard of me, then."

"My brother and I have been working hard to identify former and current members of the Circle of Syn and their Dark Acolytes," he replied, drawing his weapon as a precaution. "I've heard of you from my work under Inquisitor Voyde, he used to speak highly of your abilities. It hadn't escaped my attention that you were among the newer members, though I didn't think we'd meet this soon."

"If you're thinking I meant to bring you here, you're mistaken," Khios said, walking along the rim of the catwalk as he raised his paw. Locke crouched, anticipating an attack, only to relax when he saw the third detonation charge float from his belt and into the jackal's grasp. Khios turned away and strode towards the third generator, activating the charge and sticking it onto the surface of the sphere. "This was simply bad luck mixed with Imperial incompetence."

"Perhaps so," Locked said, following Khios curiously. "So what happens now? I doubt Voyde has standing orders to let me go."

"Did you think he was really going to just let you leave the Circle of Syn and not have you dealt with?" Khio countered. "There are plenty of the Circle who want you dead for one reason or another. I've no qualms with you, but you're not going to leave without a fight."

"So why did you set that charge, then?" Locke pressed.

"Because this warship is useless," Khios said, shrugging. "You're smart. You have figured out that the Circle wanted this vessel, though I won't tell you why. The only reason I would destroy it is if it had nothing left to offer. The foundry is smashed beyond repair, its hangars are almost completely inaccessible. The men stationed here are incompetent enough that they led you to us, so our hand is being forced."

A pounding on the hatch briefly drew their attention away, and Locke's brow furrowed. "You're letting my men go. You've made no attempt to tell your soldiers and acolytes to stand down, so you must be leaving your ships unguarded."

"Their lives are nothing compared to you, Locke," Khios said, nodding. "There is no reason for the Circle to waste its time on Padawans and Rangers. Right now... all I want is to match myself against you."

"Is that why you tried to unsettle me with an illusion?"

"It was radiating off you rather clearly," Khios said, nodding as he drew his lightsaber and unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. "Yours is a story many Sith are familiar with. But if you've mastered your fear, then the next step is to test your aggression." An amber-hued energy blade sprang from his hilt, humming dangerously as he settled into an opening position. When Locke did not immediately react he smirked. "Unless you've decided to cling too tightly to Jedi philosophy."

The banging at the door continued, reminding Locke of his situation. One Acolyte was enough trouble even for a trained Jedi Guardian, but adding a dozen stormtroopers into the mix would only exacerbate matters. There was little time left if he had any hope of escaping with everyone else. He held back a grimace as he reattached his lightsaber to the rest of his weapon, holding it at the ready. "Fine. I'll humor you for a few minutes."

"I appreciate it," Khios replied with a chuckle. "Just as long as you don't die before then."

The jackal was the first to move, going from a relaxed opening stance to dashing towards the wolf in the blink of an eye. Only someone as trained as Locke would have anticipated the attack, parrying the strike and sidestepping as he swung the metal shaft around; he scored no hit, the Nalroni ducking the attack and shifting his feet to face Locke again. He jabbed hard and fast, changing the angle and vector every time, yet Locke kept his guard solid and backed away slowly, the shaft of his weapon easily weathering the barrage.

"Empowered your polearm to prevent it being damaged, eh?" Khios noted as he brought a powerful overhead blow to the shaft.

The wolf kicked him away, flourishing back into a defensive stance. "I've learned a thing or three since I left the Circle," he replied. "And I haven't forgotten how to fight."

He took the initiative this time, opening with a wide sweep and spin that Khios backed away from, their cadence punctuated with the sharp crashes of their blades meeting. Khios kept up solidly, his defense as tight and light-footed as an agile duelists, shifting his position to dodge where possible and parrying what he could not avoid. Yet even with his defensive strength he could not begin to launch an attack on the wolf. Locke left no opening for him to exploit, his attacks bold and his footwork oppressive, bearing down on the jackal as their duel moved across the catwalks. Wild as the strikes seemed, there was an intense focus put behind every one, kept in check by years of study so he never overextended. It wasn't long before Khios backed away, clearly impressed by the wolf's ferocity.

"How... are you able to move like that?" Khios said, seeming slightly winded.

"Easy," Locke growled. "You pissed me off."

He lunged again, biting back the snarl he wished he could let out. Juyo_as a Sith style of fighting demanded him to release his emotions and allow them to control his movements; but it's sibling Jedi style,_Vaapad, cautioned on immersing himself too deeply in his darkness. To have his mind intruded upon, attempting to us a moment of fear from his past as a way to instill weakness, felt like an insult to Locke. He had every right to be angry, to lash out in frustration at a complete stranger and enemy seeing a moment he'd only ever privately confided to his family about. It was this dangerous thought of privilege that he kept within, a bright flame stoked and tended to with reason and focus. Immense strength was channeled into that first strike, knocking Khios off-balance, yet Locke did not follow up on the opening, holding back until the jackal had resumed his guard.

He anticipated Khios moving, darting in just as the jackal shifted his stance and catching him off guard to win the opening exchange, forcing Khios on the backfoot. The jackal leapt back out of range and lunged, aiming for Locke's shoulder, only for the blow to be deflected away. Locke swept for the legs and the jackal leapt to the side, flipping cleanly over the railing and hanging off it as he dueled one-handed. Despite the lack of footing Khios defended well, ducking one slash and parrying two more before rolling under the railing to Locke's other side, pressing the advantage with fencer-like cuts and jabs. Yet even as their lethal energy blades swept through the air, carving apart the railing and gouging molten lines into the shell of the reactors, Locke did not waver or flinch, matching each attack with a parry or counter of his own.

The jackal caught his weapon in a bind, preventing the riposte by forcing Locke's blade to the side; the blue blade carved a long, red line of melted alloy into the reactor shell. Locke grunted and swung upwards, his weapon cutting through the catwalk between them, forcing Khios to break off before he could counter again.

"Yuda and Thresher claimed you'd lost your edge, turning on us to become a Jedi," Khios said, stepping back a few paces until he had reached his discarded cloak. "But someone with your history makes it a point to never forget their training and sturggles, do they."

"I've worked hard to survive, to become who I am," Locke replied quietly. "Voyde could have told you that much."

"There are some things a man should let go of, Locke," Khios warned, pointing his saber directly at him.

"Those who forget their past are doomed to repeat it," Locke started to say.

"And those who continue to regret their past are ill-prepared for the future," Khios countered. "Careful that your thoughts linger on them too much, else you lose yourself - or your life."

Before Locke could anticipate it, Khios swept his open hand toward the wolf. He had expected a telekinetic burst or a barrage of lightning, but ended up backpedaling as Khios' cloak came sailing towards his face. He slashed and reduced the cloak to two burning halves just as the overhead lights flickered, but when he looked up, Khios was nowhere to be found. For a handful of seconds he remained alert, looking around and reaching out with the Force to locate his vanished foe, until the sound of blasterfire drew his attention.

The fight had brought him close to the hatch he'd used to enter, and through the slim viewport next to it he could see a barrage of blaster bolts zipping through the hallway. A gray blur flashed past the window in the opposite direction, followed by a bright yellow light - seconds later Locke could hear several shouts and screams, mixed with the sound of a lightsaber cleaving through armor. Locke took a few steps back as several seconds of silence followed, raising his weapon at the ready. Suddenly, a shaft of yellow light pierced through the hatch from the other side, cutting through the locking mechanism and unsealing the door, causing it to open. The wolf's eyes went wide as a raven-haired gray wolf stepped into the chamber.

"... Kajex?"

The wolf gave him a smug grin. "Felt like I had to join the party."

"But... how--"

"Your team called us once they reached the command post, they needed extraction since they can't find a ship," the wolf explained, approaching Locke. "I came to make sure you could handle the reactor."

Locke stared at him for a few moments, then shook his head and deactivated his weapon, turning to the reactors and looking around for Khios again. "I'm fine. Just had a run-in with a Circle member screwing with my head, and he escaped," he sighed. "Can't believe I let him get the drop on me."

"Bro, don't sweat it - even the best Jedi can't see everything," Kajex told him. "It's a shame he got away, but we all fall prey to tricks at some point."

"... Yeah... that's true," Locke said quietly.

He was ready for it, twisting his weapon around with inhuman speed and reactivating his weapon just as he stabbed behind him, the blade finding its mark. He glanced over his shoulder, his lightsaber impaled through his brother's throat, his face frozen with shock - and his own lightsaber raised high above his head, ready to bring it down on Locke. The white wolf grimaced and carved his blade through the rest of the illusion's body, until it fell to the floor. What had once been the image of his brother was now revealed to be a destroyed combat droid, wielding a yellow lightsaber that clattered away before being snuffed out.

"... But not that trick," Locke growled. "My brother trusts me. He knew I could handle this."

"Very inspiring. I suppose we'll see if that faith still holds out in the end."

Locke glared, latching on to Khios' presence in the Force. "Count on it, Khios. And tell Voyde that my brother and I will see to him soon."

For a few moments Locke got the sense the jackal was about to respond, only to fade away in silence, leaving the wolf alone. He sighed and deactivated his weapon, turning to the ruined droid. It was of a make Locke had never seen, with no identifying marks. If he had to guess, it had likely been created from the World Devastator itself, perhaps one of its last productions before its forge was rendered useless.

"All the more reason to blow this ship up," he mused quietly.

A crackle in his ear interrupted his thoughts. "Knight Locke, are you there?"

He brought his paw to his commlink. "Ranger Captain, what's our status?"

"Thank the Force, we were having trouble with jammed communications. We've found a transport and we're ready to leave. The cultists are backing off, I think they have their own ship. We just need you to board before we go."

"Is the ship rigged?" Locke asked, adamant on not being tricked again.

"Negative, we did a full sweep before we even turned her on." A pause. "Well... one minor hitch, though. The captain says the ship was programmed to wipe hyperspace coordinates after every jump. We won't be able to slice into it and prevent it."

Locke frowned. "Clever... but let's not worry about that. If they had another World Devastator, they wouldn't have wasted time with this one. Let's just get back to the Praxeum and let the Republic figure out what to do about Thule." He holstered his weapon onto his back again. "I've had enough of this place."

Ten minutes later Locke had reunited with the rest of the team. They'd been lucky enough to not suffer any losses, but Locke wanted to make sure their job was done. Once they were in the air he ordered the pilot to circle around the wreck, while the Ranger Captain drew out the detonator.

"We better make this quick," the pilot said. "We don't want to get hit with another bolt and get knocked out of the sky."

"I'm ready. Gotta say, I'm honored to permanently put one of these big bastards out of commission," the Ranger Captain said with a smirk. "Anything that keeps the galaxy a little safer."

"Anytime you're ready, then," Locke said, nodding.

It took a few seconds for the effects of the trigger to be seen, but the blinding white flash and deafening explosion was impossible to miss even from their altitude. What elements of mountain it had been embedded in that hadn't been blown away from the wreckage in quickly collapsed on what was left, the shattered hull buried beneath tons of rock.

Several of the team cheered from the deck. "As it should be," the wolf muttered, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction. "We finally have a tangible victory."

"What about Thule?" the Ranger Captain asked. "It's likely still aligned with the Remnant."

Locke considered for a moment, then shook his head. "It doesn't matter. This planet doesn't have much to give to them as it is. Just... let it fade into the background."

The pilot pulled up into the clouds, the ship shaking as they broke through back into the vacuum. "And the coordinates?" he asked.

"Same with them," Locke said, nodding. "We'll report it, but in the end we just have to let go."

As their transport got clear of the planet's mass gravity shadow and they prepared for the jump into hyperspace, Locke climbed into the co-pilot's seat and reflected. It was hard to shake off the unsettled feeling he'd felt, reliving an old memory, but he did his best to push it back.

Khios was perhaps right.

Some things - like Thule, World Devastators, and old regrets - were better left forgotten.