In a time after the fall, but before the arrival.

The evening fogs had all but enveloped the marshlands, the air cool and sweet and reminiscent of night-blooming jasmine brought about a feeling that was entirely uncharacteristic for the occupants of that particular evening.

The buzzing hum of the light sabers, various shades of green and blue with one silvery-white blade at the supposed peak circled around a lone figure. The Jedi circling the figure were no better than recently appointed Knights, though the true target was the holder of the silver-white blade. She was a woman, aged but frighteningly strong in it. Her status as an near-unchallenged Master showed through her expression in the face of the creature before her. In the center of the circle stood the Hunter.

Malex Ker, the Fallen, the Hunter, and the perfect opportunist; other names were often unnecessary and duplicitous. The six and a half foot-tall Hunter stood, clad in unmistakable armour and bearing a freshly-obtained saber. The handle of this saber, unlike the black of the one holstered upon an armoured right thigh, was golden; and when a snapping-hiss brought it to life, the purplish blade cast an unearthly glow to the armour coating every inch of flesh. A near-mechanical "Henh," transmitted through the helm, before the first Knight decided to make a fatal mistake.

The poor thing, a man no older than twenty-three, sent a hurtling wave of energy in the direction of Malex, before launching himself behind it. The Hunter canceled out the wave with one of its own, and blocked the horrendously performed downward slash of the Knight's with the purple saber. A single sound rang out then, as a blaster fired from the Hunter's free hand. The Knight dropped his saber, which deactivated with a thunk into the semi-hard soil, and he soon followed suit.

This got three of the remaining four Knights to attack at once, either to capitalize on this moment of possible distraction, or out of a loss of control over their emotions. Malex launched into the air, clashing sabers with two of the three as he rotated and spun over them, and landed behind the trio, laying into the female that had pushed past with his auto-blaster. The heavy and repetitive noise created by the weapon brought the rhythms of the night to a standstill. As the other two, twins by the looks of it, spun around inwards and towards their now slightly lighter comrade, a single *fwip* brought their two very surprised faces to look at one another for the last time. They were cast in a purplish glow, as the blade of the Hunter's saber pierced through one skull and into another. A final *fwip* removed the blade, and the pair crumpled over their former Sister Knight with dull thumps.

The final Knight, though taller and much wider than even Malex, backed up several steps at his approach. When Malex raised his blaster, the fool dropped his saber and ran. Malex ended his dishonorable life with a well-placed shot to the back of the head. The ground shook as he fell.

The woman he'd come for, the Master, stood serenely in the face of this utter destruction; the twelve-second decimation of her pupils. The only thing that had Malex even the slightest bit confused was her lack of participation. Perhaps the rumors were true, perhaps she'd been waiting for him all along. He looked her over, the purple blade still humming cheerily at his side as she spoke. "Please, do not insult me by using that. I believe you've put me through quite enough, Malex Ker."

That brought about another "Hehn," before the blade snapped out of existence, and the empty single-holster upon his left thigh was filled again. She moved to speak once more, but was cut short by an invisible foe. Her eyes bulged, her hand moved to reach out and fight against him, and her saber fell to the ground and deactivated. It moved closer, no gestures or movements fueling her strangulation. The voice transmitted through the armor again, emotionless and mechanical. "Target designation, eight-nine-four-two-five, terminated. Farewell, Master Zhen." With that final syllable, her eyes forced one final wave of emotion free before glazing over. A single tear crept down her cheek as she fell to her knees, and then onto her side against the soft, forgiving ground.

Malex Ker stepped forward, placing a small device beside the body and taking up her dropped saber. The opposite hand removed the matching one from the holster upon that armoured right hip, and latched the two together at the ends. With a twist they locked into place, and the two silver blades snapped out of either end with a hiss. It spun the blade around several times between frighteningly dexterous fingers, chuckled, turned, and strolled away from the twitching remains of the Rogues.

"Together again, at long last." The shuttle awaited, and there were new places to work. Time, as always, was on Malex Ker's side.

In a time after the fall. The Empire reigned.

The corridors of the massive vessel were circuitous, a chrome maze that would end in an inevitable capture and subsequent death for any being fool enough to attempt to infiltrate it.

Especially when the apprentices were training aboard it.

Malex Ker was never noteworthy in the areas of performance. At least, that's what was written down, and seen by instructors. For some reason, not even the darkest and most twisted pupils would take Ker on for anything beyond simple physical sparring under the scrutiny of a Master. Even then, they usually gave in before the final point could be scored. It wasn't uncommon for deaths among the apprentices during training, but the only recorded killing on Ker's record was kept from all but the highest-ranking officers. The listed reason for classification read "Comprehensible Necessity" and it was never questioned.

One thing nobody could ever guess at was whether Malex Ker was a boy or a girl. At the age of sixteen, the Apprentice was always in black, flowing robes. A cowl covered any signs of a face, and a vocal distorter had either been placed over the mouth or implanted inside the throat. The robes made the telling all that harder, being bulky and thickly-layered. The final piece of the mystery was in the rooming arrangements. Ker had apparently been training before most of the current apprentices had arrived, and thus had private quarters for meditation and practice without distraction.

It certainly made for interesting mealtime discussions. Especially when Malex would be at an adjacent table, not caring what was said.

The only thing that was surely certain about Ker was this: Power and Knowing were a casual part of what added to the frightening and deadly mind and body that was Malex Ker.