Kyp Durron crept through the jungle, using the Force to expand his awareness of any twigs that might snap, any leaves that might rustle, giving away his presence to the Vong Slayers that he knew were in the area.
This scouting mission was of the utmost importance, one that Luke himself had trusted Kyp to complete. Find the training grounds of the Slayer’s, and report back. Little did Luke know that Kyp was on a double mission: perform recon for both the Grandmaster, and Chief of State Feyla, so that an elite squadron of X-Wings could strafe the training location.
Luke would never approve of the mass bombing of an enemy Force, something that he would consider genocide.
Kyp knew genocide, had completed it himself. This was not genocide, this was saving lives.
Lost in his thoughts, Kyp failed to notice the pile of muck that he was about to step in.
“Poodoo!” he hissed to himself, then slapped his hands over his mouth. Idiot, you’re going to get yourself killed before you even find this place.
Hours later, he finally pushed his way through the dense undergrowth and came face to face with a rock wall, reaching one hundred meters in the air. Sighing, Kyp stretched out with the Force, to sense what lay on the other side. Instead of the normal feelings of flora and fauna, Kyp detected nothing but a void in the Force.
Well, this is it.
Kyp gather the Force around himself, and leapt up to a ledge on the side of the cliff, covering twenty meters with ease. Scouting, he found the next ledge, and after a series of short jumps, finally reached the top.
Crawling on his stomach to the other side of the ledge, Kyp peered down upon the Vong Slayer camp. He gasped. There must have been hundreds of Slayers, and thousands of regular Vong warriors. Smiling, Kyp pulled out his holorecorder and began to transmit images to Luke, back on Coruscant. After the images were transmitted, Kyp pulled out his secondary, secure comlink and began to enter the coordinates to send to Chief Feyla. There were thousands of coral skippers patrolling the sector, so the strike needed to be nearly surgical. They would only get one shot, so precise coordinates were required.
As Kyp prepared to send the final set of coordinates, his comlink sparked in his hand, and then crumbled.
“What in the hell is going on?!” Kyp exclaimed, then winced as he realized how loud his outburst had been.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” came a voice from behind Kyp.
Whirling around and activating his amethyst blade, Kyp stared at the bearded man floating in the air.
“You have three seconds to tell me who you are, or I end you,” Kyp said menacingly.
With a chuckle, the bearded man levitated onto the top of the cliff and began to casually walk towards Kyp, his cape fluttering in the breeze behind him, exposing his curved handled lightsaber at his waist.
“My name is Dooku, Count of Serreno. I’m afraid that these savages below will prove quite useful for plans that I have, and I sadly cannot allow you to destroy them. You may serve me, and help me fulfill my goal of overthrowing the Republic, or you may die, swiftly. The choice is entirely up to you.”
“It’s a good day for old men to die,” Kyp said, and charged at Dooku, saber held high. Dooku smiled, and side-stepped Kyp’s wide, clumsy swing.
“Who taught you to fence, boy? Was it Windu? He was always sloppy.” Dooku ignited his saber. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”
Kyp rushed Dooku again, but instead of another clumsy swing, he changed his attack, going from a horizontal chop to the neck, to a low thrust at Dooku’s midsection, which was easily parried. Kyp spun in a complete circle, bringing his blade to Dooku’s knee’s, but Dooku easily leapt over the attack, not even bothering to block with his blade.
Kyp delivered an overhead strike meant to split Dooku from hip to shoulder, which was this time met with Dooku’s crimson blade. The two combatants locked eyes, and Kyp realized that this old man was stronger than he appeared, both in the Force, and physically.
Kyp backed away, and decided that he had tested the old man enough. This man was dangerous, and Kyp would have to devote himself fully to this fight.
“Play time is over, grandfather,” Kyp said, and began to deliver more precise strikes to Dooku, all of which were blocked, but not easily.
“Good, good…you hid your true abilities. You remind me of him, you know. Of Skywalker. You both have hate in your hearts, but you do not use it. You have…regret…there is much pain from regret…your brother? You killed your own brother? Goodness, my son. What a burden to bear.”
Dooku was talented in Dun Moch, and it worked flawlessly against Kyp. Roaring, Kyp was a blur as he pounded away at Dooku’s defense, forcing the Count back.
And then it happened. Kyp swung too wide, and Dooku delivered a subtle thrust. Kyp attempted to spin out of the way, but not quite quickly enough, as the blade cut a furrow across his side. Screaming, Kyp fell to the floor, but scrambled quickly to get out of the way of Dooku’s advancing blade.
With fire in his side, Kyp came to his feet and was now on the defensive. In his pain, in his fear for his life, he couldn’t but admire the way that this man fought. He’d never seen a more graceful fighter in his whole life. As he defended against the red blade, his danger sense spiked, and he turned just in time to slice a large stone in half that had been directed straight at his head.
Grimacing, Kyp realized that the situation had become much worse. Dooku advanced, Kyp blocked, and the quickly spun to his left, avoiding another stone that Dooku had flung at him through the Force. “Time to get serious, boy,” Dooku said, and moved on him with a speed that he had only seen Luke himself deliver.
Kyp gave himself over to the Force, twirling out of the way of flying stones, and Dooku’s lightsaber, blocking the blade when he could. Some objects were getting through, though, and Kyp felt like he may have broken a rib.
He danced his way through the debris, which was now swirling around the two like a cyclone. Dooku couldn’t but help to be impressed.
A rock the size of Kyp’s hand caught him in the temple, and his vision exploded. He fell over, dropping his lightsaber, blood pouring down the side of his face. He had a concussion, to be sure, maybe even a fractured skull. Kyp poured the Force into his body, fighting through the pain to rise to his feet. He looked down to call his lightsaber to his hand, but it was gone.
“Looking for this?” chided the Count, holding Kyp’s lightsaber. “You really should be more careful. This weapon is your life,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Dooku tossed the saber into the air, and sliced the hilt in half with his own blade.
“Now that you have had your fun, pretending to be a swordsman, shall we move on to the part where you die?”
Kyp bowed his head, reached out again with the Force, and found the inner workings of Dooku’s lightsaber. Pushing through, he sent all of his power into the crystal. Dooku brought the blade down onto Kyp’s neck, but the blade disappeared as the handle exploded in Dooku’s hands.
Without a scream, but his face bearing a mask of astonishment, Dooku regarded his ruined hands. Breathing heavily, he regarded Kyp one more time. “I don’t need a lightsaber to kill you.”
Force lightning raced out from Dooku’s bloody, disfigured hands, and was met by Kyp’s palm, gathering into a storm of Force energy. Kyp screamed, as even though he was containing the lightning with tutaminis, it was still so strong that it was scorching his hand.
“ENOUGH!” Kyp yelled, and sent the blast back at Dooku, hitting the elder man square in his chest, knocking him back ten meters. Stunned, Dooku could do nothing as Kyp approached him.
Kyp raised his hands, and seized Dooku with the Force. He lifted him in the air, and slammed him into the rock, over and over again, until he heard the crack of the Count’s neck breaking, and then the pop as his skull burst open, brain matter spilling onto the cliff.
Kyp regarded the body of the old man, then turned his attention back to the pit of Vong below. They had gathered together to watch the two warriors battle to the death. Now that they had seen the fight complete, they were advancing to him, ten thousands warriors against one wounded Jedi with no lightsaber.
Kyp shook his head, turned to the other side of the cliff, and leapt to the jungle floor below, and began to sprint back to his X-Wing as quickly as his injured side would let him.
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