Kyle Swain
An Epic of Nadd
	“No! Please!” The cry issued forth from an old Twi’lek’s throat as it was constricted, swiftly closing in on a fatal demise.
	“Ah, but I’ve only just begun,” clucked a dark, hooded figure. A single hand flicked at the wrist, and the Twi’lek was hurled against the alley wall.
	“What do you need to know? I can tell you anything!” This last desperate plea was ignored as the figure motioned, and the Twi’lek rose to his feet, unable to control his body at all.
	“Just one thing,” The face inside the hood, dark and shadowed as it was, gleamed with the hint of a white, toothy smile. “Where is the location of the Sith artifacts?”
	The head that was held by dark power snapped free for a moment, as the Twi’lek fought back. “Never. I will never tell you that.”
	“Oh, but you will. As you know, I can do many things to help……convince you.” Again the hand moved, but this time for a different reason. Darkness gathered into the palm of that hand and lashed out in a savage blast of twisting lightning.
	A thunderous crackle erupted as the Twi’lek desperately pulled out a lightsaber to intervene against the deadly flow of hate.
	“You will get nothing from me!” The alien cried as he threw the blue coils of power against a nearby wall. “My master entrusted them to me and me alone. Nothing will come to you.”
	“That is where you are wrong, oh disillusioned Jedi.” The dark figure sprouted a lightsaber of its own, and sizzling flame eagerly leapt to meet cool plasma. 
	Sparks flew and the distinctive droning of blades clashing drew observers.
	“Hey! What’s going on over there?” Many a species called for people to help the Jedi, but all were too late.
	In mere seconds, the flashing blade of fire smashed away the glowing summer sky, leaving a defeated, disheveled alien on his knees in front of the darkness.
	A triumphant whisper bled into the Force, and the shadow gripped the Jedi’s head between his two hands.
	“Now where is it? Where did you hide…Aha!” Hands dropped away as the robe drifted backwards. “Thank you.”
	Dark energy pooled again in the palm of the outstretched hand.
	“Mercy.” Twi’lek head tentacles swished in the air as his head lifted up to meet the eyes of his murderer.
	“Please, Freedon Nadd, please. Mercy.”
	There was none to be found in the cruel, emotionless orbs staring back down.