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Drako walked into what looked like a old bar. He looked around and his sencers found blaster scaring. They also found saber scaring. The force was strong here.

Drako walked along the ceiling. Small droids gaurded the area. He could not be seen. Drako climed out of a small window and scanned around. He was getting closer.

Lord Imperius watched Lady Terra clear the jump and land in his suite. Cautiously, she entered the room, searching for him. Quietly, Imperius lit one of his lightsabers, keeping the hilt underneath the sofa to muffle the infamous snap-hiss of the blade. Unfortunately, it began to eat away at the Kashyyykian woodfloor, and he pulled it back. The suite was completely dark and Imperius crouched behind the sofa in a dark corner, the silvery sheen of the blade dancing on and off the wall. Imperius twisted the hilt, a feature that had taken very long to make, and in doing so, revealed a myriad small buttons on the inside of the hilt. Pressing a sequence of three, a regal purple light began to flicker up the beam of the blade, slowly dissolving to a bright purple, and when its path reached the top, reverted to the silver. Imperius chuckled. He knew that he had sheathed the blade, essentially putting it's power setting lower, but to anyone else, it would look like the silver glow of death.

It's time to teach Terra a thing or two about lightsaber combat

Jumping out of his crouch, he backflipped over the sofa and swiveled on the balls of his feet, turning towards an astonished Terra.

Imperius held his saber up in a ready stance. Under Lord Vader he had chasen in the Fourth Form of lighstaber combat, and on his own, during the years of study through Holocrons, he had studied Darth Maul's way of combat: Form VII. Blending the two, he had invented Form VIII, his own way, a graceful yet powerful, yet light form of combat. Slowly, he circled around her, his eyes gleaming with faux intensity, an intensity he hoped she would never discover as false. He wore a grim expression on his face, and expression that did not mean TRAIN or STUN, but rather the hard worn impression that said KILL. Suddenly, he broke his circling of her, and bounced forward, slashing at her shoulder, and pivoted around to jut his saber behind him, before turning around to backflip backwards and begin his circle again.

Drako walked along the roof tops. He stopped and paused. " I feel you my old master. I know you are there......"

Drako leaped from roof to roof with large bounds. He could hear the sound of sabers, but could not find the sorce.

" ......... "

Drako stopped, again. " Human....your start to remind me of a old friend of mine. He is dead now.....as should you be."

He turned his arms raised, all four. His saber still at his side.

" You should not be so quick to call me names.....when you your self have the face only a Rancore could love." With that said Drako pulled his saber to his upper right hand. The glow of the lightning blue blade lite up his face.

" Come......."

"Funny thing about my face. at least I can pick up the ladies with it. the only things you could possibly pick up with your's are radio waves.Oh, and by the way: Bang." Cale pulled the trigger and a brilliant red bolt fired out of the blaster.

The sound of Cale's weapon dishcharging echoed through the air, and Selkisto, who was close enough to hear it, pulled his own weapon out instinctively, whirling around.

"Dammit... I'm too jumpy..."

He looked in the direction of the sound and made his way towards it, stealthily. He realized why he felt drawn to it; it sounded like the same weapon the undercover guard from before had, or one of them. He cursed his own patheticness for remembering the distinct sound of the weapon, but quickly put such thoughts aside.

Selkisto had been thinking cosmically, which he usually does while he's waiting for long periods of time. It helps /pass/ the time, after all. And he had done some meditating and pondering and soul searching. He had decided, in that stretch of time, that he didn't want to be a mercenary all his life. But he didn't have much of a choice, anymore.

The blue flash of a lightsaber caught his eye, and he raised his E-11. He saw his opponent from two occasions before, and aimed at him. If he could have been seen by this mysterious gaurd, and attacked by him from on top of the roof, he clearly was superior.

Selkisto thought a moment and put his weapon down. No, this seemed wrong. Selkisto didn't believe in any gods, or in fate, or in the force. But he believed in his own gut, and after meditating for so long, he was more inclined to ask questions before shooting. This person had something unique around him...

Selkisto scanned the area. He noticed a ladder and jumped on to it, E-11 back in its holster. He climbed to the top of the roof and peered over the edge. He'd sit this one out. No, he'd watch... and protect this person.

Selkisto had no idea why he felt like doing this all of a sudden. Thinking deeply tended to put him in a more peaceful mood. That was his explanation for the time being, anyway.

Imperius dodged the attack, but two waves of presence shuddered through him. The first was that of the Jed Neb Wulf, but the second was dangerous, that of his former apprentice. He lunged back with his saber, and began his elegant and deadly dance of death.