Toydaria hung in space like a green jewel—a temperate world of dense forests and sprawling swamps, its surface covered in algae mats that gave the entire planet a verdant glow. The air was thick and humid, teeming with exotic plant life and the distinctive mist that made navigation challenging for outsiders.
For Savage Opress and Sora Bulq, it was simply another target.
Their transport descended through the murky atmosphere with practiced precision, docking at the royal palace's auxiliary platform—a side entrance used for diplomatic arrivals that security had flagged as suspicious the moment their vessel appeared on sensors.
They never got the chance to raise an alarm.
Savage moved the instant the boarding ramp lowered. The first guard—a Toydarian in ceremonial armor—opened his mouth to demand identification. Savage's massive hand closed around his throat before the first syllable escaped. A quick twist. A muffled crack. The guard's wings went still, body dropping like a puppet with cut strings.
The second guard managed to draw his blaster. He even got off a shot—a wild bolt that scorched the transport's hull. Then Savage was there, moving with speed that should have been impossible for someone his size. One hand caught the guard's wrist, crushing the delicate bones of his gun hand. The other delivered a palm strike to the chest that caved in armor and ribs simultaneously.
Sora Bulq watched from the ramp, arms crossed, expression one of clinical assessment. When Savage strangled a third guard—lifting the struggling Toydarian off the ground and holding him there until his wings stopped beating—Bulq allowed himself a small smile of approval.
"Efficient," he murmured. "Brutal, but efficient."
The palace alarm began to wail—a keening sound that echoed through the corridors like a wounded animal. Savage didn't seem to notice or care. He was already moving toward the throne room, leaving bodies in his wake.
King Katuunko sat on his throne, trying to project calm despite the security chief's increasingly frantic reports. The small, blue-skinned Toydarian king had led his people through difficult times before—blockades, trade disputes, political pressure from both Republic and Separatists.
But actual invasion? That was new.
"Is it Ultron?" Katuunko asked, his wings beating faster with anxiety. The rogue AI's attacks had terrorized the galaxy. If Ultron had come to Toydaria—
"No, Your Majesty." The guard's voice cracked. "One of the intruders wields a red lightsaber. Double-bladed."
Katuunko's blood ran cold. "Dooku's agents. They've finally come for me." He rose from his throne, small but dignified. "Sound the alarm. Get reinforcements from the outer districts. And prepare the escape routes—"
The throne room doors exploded inward.
Savage Opress stood in the wreckage, his double-bladed lightsaber igniting with a snap-hiss that seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. Crimson light painted his yellow skin in hellish tones, made his burning eyes look demonic.
Behind him, Sora Bulq walked with casual menace, his own lightsaber held loosely, almost bored.
"King Katuunko." Bulq's voice was smooth, diplomatic despite the violence. "Count Dooku requests your presence. You have a choice—come willingly, or be taken by force."
Katuunko drew himself up to his full diminutive height. "I am king of Toydaria. I do not bow to Separatist intimidation."
"Not intimidation," Bulq corrected. "A simple invitation. Though I admit, my associate here prefers the forceful approach."
Savage didn't wait for more conversation. He charged.
Palace guards threw themselves in his path—brave, loyal, utterly inadequate. Savage cut through them like they were made of paper. His double-bladed lightsaber spun in complex patterns, each rotation leaving another body in its wake. When one guard managed to land a blaster shot—catching Savage in the shoulder—the Zabrak barely flinched. He grabbed the shooter by the head and slammed him into the floor hard enough to crack stone.
Katuunko fled toward the suspended platform that would take him to the emergency shelters. His wings beat frantically, carrying his small frame through the air with desperate speed.
He almost made it.
Savage's throw was perfect—instinctual, guided by the Force. His lightsaber spun through the air like a blade of crimson death, its path intersecting with Katuunko's flight trajectory—
The Republic shuttle burst from hyperspace with barely controlled urgency.
"Are we sure this is the right place?" Sam Wilson asked, already checking his wing systems, preparing for immediate deployment.
"Obi-Wan's intelligence was solid," Plo Koon replied, his antiox mask hissing softly. "The Zabrak warrior was heading here to capture King Katuunko."
"Then we'd better move fast," Captain America said, shield already on his arm. "If he's here, people are dying."
They descended toward the royal palace, and even from altitude, the signs of violence were obvious. Smoke. Bodies scattered across the landing platforms. The distinctive scorch marks of lightsaber combat.
Adi Gallia's expression was grim. "We may already be too late."
They landed hard, skipping standard docking procedures in favor of speed. The moment the boarding ramp lowered, they were moving—two Jedi, two Avengers, racing against time and death.
The trail of bodies led them through the palace corridors like bloody breadcrumbs. Toydarian guards, all dead. Some showed blaster wounds. Most bore the telltale cauterization of lightsaber strikes.
"This way," Plo Koon said, following the disturbance in the Force. "The throne room."
They burst through the doors to find carnage.
Savage Opress stood in the center of the room, King Katuunko thrown over one massive shoulder like a sack of grain. The Toydarian king was unconscious, bleeding from a head wound, but alive.
For now.
Sam didn't hesitate. His wings flared to full extension and he launched, aerial combat training taking over. He came in high and fast, wing-mounted guns blazing, trying to force Savage to drop the king.
Savage's lightsaber was already moving, deflecting the barrage with almost casual precision. But Sam's attack created the opening—Katuunko slipped from Savage's shoulder, hitting the ground with a painful thud.
The Zabrak's yellow eyes tracked Sam's flight path, analyzing, calculating. Then he moved—a burst of Force-enhanced speed that closed the distance impossibly fast. His lightsaber whistled through the air where Sam's torso had been a microsecond earlier.
"Fast bastard!" Sam banked hard, using his flight advantage to stay out of reach. "Cap, little help here!"
But Steve Rogers was already engaged.
Sora Bulq had moved to intercept the moment the Avengers arrived, his fallen Jedi training making him a formidable opponent. His lightsaber met Adi Gallia's with a shower of sparks, and he laughed—actually laughed—at the two Jedi Masters advancing on him.
"Master Plo. Master Adi." Bulq's greeting was mocking, theatrical. "Such an honor to have Council members personally attend to my humble presence."
Plo Koon didn't waste breath on words. His attack was pure Jedi efficiency—Form V's aggressive power channeled through decades of experience. His blade scored a deep cut across Bulq's side, burning through robes and flesh.
Bulq hissed in pain but kept fighting, falling back step by step as both Jedi pressed the attack.
Meanwhile, Steve's shield came spinning through the melee like a discus of vibranium vengeance. It caught Savage across the jaw with a clang that echoed through the throne room, snapping the Zabrak's head sideways.
Savage stumbled, shocked. He touched his face, felt blood, and something in his expression shifted from calculation to pure rage.
He roared—a sound that was barely human—and charged.
Steve planted his feet and met the charge head-on. They collided with bone-jarring force—super-soldier serum versus raw dark side power. Steve's shield came up to block the lightsaber, vibranium absorbing and dispersing the energy. He delivered a devastating uppercut that would have shattered a normal person's jaw.
Savage's head snapped back. He shook it off, spat blood, and kept coming.
"Tough son of a bitch," Steve muttered.
The fight became brutal, personal. Steve couldn't match Savage's sheer strength, but he had technique, discipline, seventy years of combat experience. Every time Savage's lightsaber came down, the shield was there. Every opening, Steve exploited—strikes to joints, pressure points, anywhere that might slow the monster down.
But Savage was learning. Adapting. His initial wild attacks gave way to something more focused, more dangerous.
Behind them, King Katuunko stirred. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the chaos—Jedi fighting a fallen master, Avengers battling a Zabrak monster, his throne room turned into a battlefield.
He had to escape. Had to warn the Republic, had to—
His wings began to beat, lifting him off the ground. The emergency shelter was just through that door. If he could reach it—
Savage saw.
Even in the middle of combat with Captain America, even with Sam's wings strafing him from above, Savage's predator instincts locked onto fleeing prey.
He caught Steve's ankle mid-kick, and with terrifying strength, hurled the super-soldier directly at Sam. The two Avengers collided in mid-air, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and wings.
Then Savage was moving, crossing the distance to Katuunko in three massive strides. His hand closed around the Toydarian king's throat, lifting him into the air.
"No!" Sam's shout came too late.
Katuunko struggled, his small hands clawing uselessly at Savage's iron grip. His wings beat frantically, going nowhere. His eyes bulged with terror and lack of oxygen.
Savage looked into those dying eyes and felt... nothing. No satisfaction. No remorse. Just the cold certainty that his target was trying to escape, and escaped targets meant mission failure, and mission failure meant Dooku's displeasure, and Dooku's displeasure meant pain—
He twisted.
The crack of breaking bone was horrifyingly loud in the sudden silence.
King Katuunko's body went limp. His wings stilled. The light left his eyes.
"NO!" Sam's anguished cry echoed through the throne room.
But Savage was already moving, dragging the corpse with him, heading for the exit. Bulq disengaged from the Jedi with a Force-push that sent them both stumbling, then followed his charge.
Steve and Sam tried to pursue, but Bulq's power slammed into them like an invisible wall—the Force wielded with vicious efficiency. Support columns cracked. Ceiling panels crashed down. Everything became obstacles designed to slow pursuit.
By the time they fought through the debris, Savage and Bulq were already at their ship.
Savage didn't even pause. He activated the ship's weapons systems and fired—indiscriminate blasts that detonated every other vessel on the landing platform, ensuring no immediate pursuit.
Then they were gone, jumping to hyperspace before the Jedi could coordinate a response.
In the relative safety of hyperspace, Sora Bulq finally allowed himself to relax. They'd escaped. The mission was... complete?
He looked at King Katuunko's corpse where Savage had dumped it on the deck.
"You killed him." Bulq's voice was flat, emotionless.
"I completed the mission," Savage replied.
"Alive, you imbecile!" Bulq's control shattered. "Count Dooku's orders were explicit—bring King Katuunko to him alive! For interrogation! For leverage against the Republic!"
"He was escaping—"
"So you murdered him?!" Bulq was in Savage's face now, rage overcoming caution. "You mindless barbarian! Do you have any idea what you've done? Count Dooku will—" He stopped, realization dawning. "The Count is going to kill you. Maybe not immediately. Maybe he'll torture you first, make an example. But you're a dead man, Savage Opress."
For the first time, genuine fear flickered across Savage's features.
He'd faced Jedi. Fought Avengers. Killed dozens without hesitation. But the thought of facing Dooku's wrath after failing a direct order...
His hands trembled slightly. The fear was a living thing in his chest, cold and crawling, nothing like the hot rush of battle-rage.
"I..." Savage's voice came out smaller than intended. "I did what was necessary."
"You did what your instincts told you," Bulq corrected, his own anger cooling into something more calculating. "Like the beast you are. And now we both have to face the consequences."
Savage looked at the corpse again. At his hands, still stained with Katuunko's blood. At the reality of what he'd done.
Count Dooku did not tolerate failure. Everyone in the Separatist organization knew that. And Savage had failed spectacularly.
The fear grew, spreading like ice through his veins, and for all his strength, for all his dark side power, Savage Opress couldn't fight this enemy.
All he could do was wait for the punishment he knew was coming.
And pray that it would be quick.
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