Unrest In The City

[Center]Unrest In The City[/Center]
[Center](Continued from Fictional Updates 1-4)[/Center]


Commercial and Leisure District
Warehouse 13

Tsainetomo nodded satisfactorily as the banks of computers and monitors spoke to him in their language, letting him know that all was running at optimal levels. Dyrra stood over the shoulder of one of the operators, her voice lilting over the electronic hum of the processors.

“Very good, trooper; well done. The Ragnosians are receiving our homing beacon now?” The question was more rhetorical than anything; now that Marka Ragnos was operating within the city as well, the Kresshians wanted to be sure that they knew where the staging area was. The warehouse was not only set up to monitor activities ‘where the rubber met the road’, as it were, but also as a makeshift medical station, resupply depot, and barracks should anyone choose not to partake of the local lodgings.

Sai chimed in, rather absently, as the sounds from the Blue Hutt wafted into the warehouse. “So, I trust Fremoc is receiving the signal as well. I’m sure he’ll want to coordinate his people’s efforts.” Dyrra glanced over at the Son of Sadow, whose gaze was locked onto the door.

“Tsainetomo,” she chided, “Manji won’t like it if anyone isn’t on the job.” Dyrra, too, knew of the Keibatsu predilection to embarrass themselves in drunken carousing. “You can consider the Blue Hutt off-limits for now.”

The Epis’ face suddenly turned serious. “Dyrra! I’m shocked and appalled that you’d think I’d purposefully slack off,” he said with copious amounts of mock indignation. “Besides, that establishment needs to be cased. We have no idea of who – or what – we might find in there. We need to know what kind of neighbors we have. I submit that we need as much intel as we can gather.” His eyes once again strayed to the door, the karaoke music calling to him with its siren’s song. Sai continued, muttering under his breath. “And if my dear cousin disagrees, he can drag me out of there himself.”

Dyrra clucked her tongue. “Sai, I was born at night – but not last night.” Her face lit up by the grin that adorned it. The red-haired Equite sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I want a full report, and try to keep it at a five-drink max; we need everyone sharp, Keibatsu.”

Already moving towards the door, Sai winked as he called over his shoulder. “Yes’m.”

Marakith
Seng Karash

Fremoc sat in his chair and looked to the two men he called his brothers who were standing near the doorway. The homing beacon was transmitting clearly, and Fremoc had sent the Ragnosians towards the warehouse while others went about doing their own thing. As for right then, it was time to do something Methyas and Kano had been talking about for some time. He nodded to the two of them and left the room they occupied, while the Templar stood taking the hand of his wife.

"What's the plan?" asked Teu.

"For now we meet Kano and Methyas," he replied. They walked out of the room and towards a platform that had a large viewport where Marka Ragnos' Aedile and the Night Raptors Battle Team Leader awaited. The two stood with their backs to the viewport as the Pepoi's walked closer to them. Without a word Methyas grasped Teu's forearm as she did with him.

"Teu Pepoi, I recognize you as my sister in my culture of Mandalorian," said Methyas letting go of her arm finally. Kano grasped her arm and repeated the sentiment before walking off into the bowels of the Skyhook.

Teu turned to Fremoc who grasped her arm as well, who said "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde. Now you repeat it."

Teu stammering at what was happening, recited what the Quaestor said, "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

"Now, I think it's time to join the party." Methyas nodded in agreement before the trio moved out.

Consul's Temporary Quarters
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran

His surroundings were luxurious enough; the leadership of Ludo Kressh had spared no expense preparing these quarters for the Consul of Naga Sadow, especially following the ferocity of his display a few days previously. Nevertheless, Manji was entirely fed up. Even the visceral roaring and cacophonous buzz of his favourite Scrak band Planet Smasher could not lift him out of the doldrums; the dissonant, screeching nature of the music reverberating through his temporary quarters at an entirely antisocial level calmed his soul a little, but failed to dispel his black mood.

There had been rumblings amongst the Ragnosians assigned to Aeotheran- he'd heard them. They'd wanted to know why they should stick their necks out to sort out a problem in Seng Karash; it wasn't their city, and it wasn't their planet. After a few of them had been taken to the infirmary, spitting teeth after voicing those opinions within earshot of the Pontifex, the rumblings had ceased. Manji had been firm on one thing; the problems on Seng Karash would have far-reaching consequences if they were not dealt with. If the Dlarit Corporation lost control of this city, it was entirely plausible that the repercussions would be felt on Tarthos.

One fist slammed down on the arm of the chair as Manji growled angrily before snatching at his communicator. A few swipes at the keypad connected him and a blue loading graphic sprang from the device. Mere seconds later, the face of a human female appeared, a sternly-starched Dlarit cap adorning her tightly pulled-back blonde hair.

"Yes, my lord?"

Manji nodded curtly at her, his mood too dark for any of his usual flirtatious behaviour. The woman was his personal aide for this operation; she'd risen through the ranks of Dlarit quickly by being very good at her job.

"I'm going out, Darla. Keep monitoring all communications on the planet and send me records of whatever holo-bulletins they broadcast; I want to know what's happening as soon as it happens, got it?"

Darla nodded briskly, her face serious. The Kyataran honorific rolled off her tongue naturally as she spoke; she'd done her research on the man she'd been assigned to.

"Of course, Keibatsu-dono."

Snapping the channel shut, his face no longer bathed in a blue glow, the Pontifex pushed himself out of his chair, intending to get out of his quarters and catch some fresh air. And perhaps also to avoid another inevitable call from Astronicus and his brother, demanding to know about the situation on Aeotheran. A wave of his hand silenced the sound system mid-riff, cutting off a particularly strangled scream from the Planet Smasher vocalist. Another casual wave of his hand lifted his twin sabers from their wooden stand and slipped them through his belt, clinking quietly as the door to the room wafted open.

Striding into the corridor beyond, Manji glanced around silently, his face still locked into an interminable scowl. A couple of menials heading his way blanched and veered off into an adjacent corridor, swiftly avoiding the Consul. The sight put a dark sneer on Manji's face as he turned and headed the opposite way, his feet carrying him towards the hangar of the Skyhook.

Logic would dictate that the Consul stay on the Skyhook and co-ordinate this operation. Manji was not known for his skills at logical deduction.

Docking Bay
Marakith Skyhook
Seng Karash


"No, no, the ion impeller goes right here..." A snort of irritation spilled from Macron's lips as he smacked the hapless R5 droid on it's domed head. "Idiot droid." Repairs to the Nachzerer were going slowly. Parts were difficult to obtain and those which could be fabricated took time. There were drawbacks to having such a uniquely hodge-podge vessel. The Sadow squatted next to the beetle-shaped transport and poked idly at some blaster scarring. "Bastards got us with a good shot, actually cleared the quadanium. Damn."

The Sith's wristcom beeped as he peered at the working droid. Absentmindedly flicking the "on" switch, Macron replied to the message hail. "Macron here," he chuckled. "With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"This is Tsainetomo," came the reply. "Secure channel. What's your situation up there?"

"My brother!" came the Warlord's enthusiastic reply. "Not a damn thing. Bored as hell. Repairs are going slow from the Korriz mission. Nobody to torture.... I'm simply going mad. Bwahaha."

"That's a short trip indeed, m'friend," came Sai's chuckled reply. "Interested in a little recon action?"

"I am," grinned the tattooed madman as he stood up fully. "Does it involve an entertainment establishment that serves refreshing frosty beverages?"

"It does," came the reply. "Blue Hutt, in fact."

"Killer!" remarked the Sith as he strode to a speeder bike. "My kind of mission. I'm on my way to your location. See you in ten. Macron out." The alchemist waved a hand at the trooper guarding the bike motor pool. "I'm taking this." It was a statement, and not a request.

The Sergeant nodded and offered no reply. He was fully aware of the Sith's evil reputation and the fact that he happened to be a ranking SOG Marshal Commander although the madman seldom used the title. "Happy Hunting, sir."

Macron saluted him with a giggle, jumped on the iron steed and rocketed toward the ground below at speeds totally unsafe for the general public. Pefect.

Aedile's Office
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran

Raist took a long drag on his cigarra as he allowed himself to relax
for a brief moment. He leaned on the rails of the deck outside of his
office and though it was another beautiful day on Aeotheran, the
Exarch doubted he would be able to enjoy it at all.

It seemed everyone was pissed at him, as if the whole situation was
his fault, when in fact, the threat had been hidden under their
collective noses the entire time. Regardless, it had fallen squarely
on his shoulders to absorb the brunt of the blame, and he had done so
admirably, getting reamed out by everyone. Dyrra had verbally torn him
apart, shouting expletives that Raist thought the girl wouldn't even
know existed from within the confines of her sound proof office. No
sooner had that ended when both Manji and Taig chided him over his
lack of intelligence on the situation. The Overlord himself was less
than pleased and in his brief conversation with Darth Ashen, the Grand
Master had slung nothing but insults at the mere notion that the Clan
he called home was being threatened by "terrorists".

Already, it wasn't a good day.

Raist tossed his cigarra before opening the sliding glass door to his
office with a wave of his hand. The slightly oppressive humidity
vanished upon entry into his temperature-controlled office, but it
mattered not, much like the verbal berating he had put up with. He
would solve the problem at hand, no matter what measures it would take
to do so.

Indeed, if any of the grandiose plans he had were to get off the
ground, Raist would first have to solve the threat facing them
practically right outside their doorstep.

The Exarch pressed a small button by his desk to activate his holonet,
a moment later, a military officer stood on his desk.

"Sir?" he asked.

"I want all non-essential D-SOG personnel recalled to Marakith,
including all of Saheelindeel, and most of Kangaras." the Aedile
paused. "Only military vessels and high value cargo and facilities
will retain troops until this.... rebellion is squashed. Raist out."
the Exarch abruptly severed the connection before letting out a long,
drawn-out sigh.


""Kark my life." Raist said aloud to nobody in particular. He grabbed
his two blaster pistols and a few other things he could easily conceal
underneath his robe before he exited out to the deck once more.

Already plans were in motion. Much of the summit was in the field
already, and Raist had plans of his own that he was eager to initiate.

The Exarch was about to roll another cigarra when the commlink on his
belt began to flash. A single red blinking light told him everything
he needed to know, and though he now had the location of the Summit,
it would have to wait for now.

Raistlin calmly stepped onto the railing surrounding his balcony and
swan-dived off. Had anyone been watching him, they might have assumed
he was attempting suicide. Instead Raist slowed his acceleration down
as he plummeted to the ground and he landed gently on his own two
feet, thanks to the Force.

With a wave to a couple of nearby, agape sentients, Raist began to
head toward his destination, the squalid hellhole known as Tent City.
He needed answers, and the Aedile knew exactly where the answer-man
was to be found.

It definately wasn't going to be a good day.

C.A.R.E Campaign Headquarters
Commerical and Leisure District
Seng Karash

Jade glanced around the room, careful not to use the force as much as her senses in case it should make Van Dastari suspicious at all. But as he shook her hand the voices began to murmur in her mind. Keeping a friendly smile on her face, she clenched her teeth in an effort to block out the voices, sending a curse to the one who had touched her.

She wasn’t yet sure of the lady Soolin, but she had come recommended by a couple other Sadows, Jade’s family, which meant the woman was trustworthy, at least to the Clan. It was good to be going out and fighting for the Clan again, all the recent training had started to get dull.

Soolin brushed a hand slightly on her right hip, it was one of the few small signals they had worked out before going in. It meant she didn’t see anything at the time which signaled it was time to fight or flight. Jade hadn’t either, nor had she expected to this early in the game, but knew trouble was always right around the corner. Jade walked up on Dastari’s left side and flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder in response to Soolin. Jade turned to Van Dastari, making her voice sound excited but not quite teenager meeting their idol excited. “It’s a pleasure to be able to be here lending a hand.”

The man turned his head towards her and smiled. “I always welcome free advice, though sometimes it isn’t quite what I have in mind.”

Jade smirked back; unable to resist the reply. “Well, you get what you pay for.”

Dastari laughed. “Too true my dear.”

Soolin saw the slight frown at the endearment on the sides of Jade’s eyes just on the corner of the sun glasses and jumped in. “So what can we help you with?”

Van Dastari brought up his hand signaling for the two women to follow him. “I have just the thing, I have been looking something over and over and I think some fresh minds might be able to help.”

The Resettlement Centre
Aeotheran

Malisane accompanied Gavroche through the crowds. They were on an informal patrol. The short man had explained to him that they did this every day to try and find new recruits amongst the crowds, and deliver messages to various members of the V.O.J that lived out amongst the masses without risking Dlarit picking up communication signals.
“You have any idea where she gets this equipment from?” Malisane asked, indicating the brand new suit of armour he was wearing under his grey robe.
“We collect a crate every couple of days from an agreed location on the outskirts of the area,” Gavroche replied, “she only tells us with an hours notice, think she gets some sort of signal.”
“Who from?” Malisane asked determined to keep prying, “this is top of the line gear, as good as we had in Dlarit. Someone’s splashing a lot of money on this.”
Gavroche grinned, “You could try asking Deliverance, though she told the rest of us to mind our own damn business when we did. I imagine she has sympathisers in the city. So long as we get it we don’t complain.”
“I suppose so,” the Battlelord answered feeling frustrated.

They kept walking, glancing around them at the huddled masses. Suddenly Malisane felt a push in his mind, and he glanced around to see one huddled figure sat near a fire, sipping from a bottle. He frowned. “I feel like a drink,” he said suddenly, walking over to the man. “Hey you feel like giving us a swig of that?”
The man looked up, “Help yourself,” he said cheerfully passing the bottle up and Malisane took a swig.
The Battlelord studied the man. “Don’t I know you?”
“Possibly.”
“It’s Corporal Sonjie isn’t it? It’s me, Sergeant Verdane.” He moved his hood aside to reveal his burned features.
“Yeah Sarge, I remember you from Kappa Mine. What happened to you?”
Malisane shrugged. “There was an explosion. It’s a long story.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Only when I laugh,” Malisane replied dryly, “so what’s your story. You got kicked out?”
Locke nodded sadly, “Yeah couple of months ago. Got sent here with a couple of hundred in my pocket. Spent it on some of this.” He raised the bottle again and took a swig.
“Didn’t you have a wife and kids?”
“Yeah haven’t seen them,” Locke replied quietly, “no news of them here. Don’t know if they’re even alive.”
Gavroche sighed compassionatley. “We could use him,” he said quietly.
Malisane nodded. “Why don’t you come with us Corporal? I’ll take him to the shelter.” Gavroche nodded and wandered off to deliver his messages. “Any more of you here?” Malisane asked when the little man was out of sight.
The Guardian nodded. “There’s a few of us, with more coming. Raistlin suggested we make our way down seperatley, so it didn’t look suspicious.”
“Alright come with me then, your story ought to stand up to Deliverance. Don’t forget your bottle.”

When Malisane and Locke got back they found Deliverance and her lieutenants in conversation with another man. “So Kano Verda if that’s your name,” she was saying, “what’s a Mandorian mercenary doing talking to us?”
Kano shrugged. “Figured you were looking for people. I know one end of a blaster from the other.”
She studied him, “That doesn’t answer my question, all these people you see here have a grievance against Dlarit or are fighting for the people. What’s your story?”
“I’m stuck here,” Kano replied a touch of annoyance entering his voice, “got swept up in an evacuation from the Ginvas system and lost my gear and my money. I want to get off this rock and out of this system there’s no work here.”
She laughed, “No problem Sir would you like a first class cabin?” she asked and her men laughed with her, “This isn’t a travel agents.”
Kano looked at her seriously, “Your men have expensive equipment you’re not building out of wood from the forest. That means you have a way into the city and probably off the planet. How about I fight for your revolution and you get me out of Orian when it’s over?”
She smiled. “You’ve got guts Kano I like that. Alright you’ve got a deal, just don’t run out on me or you’ll leave Tent City with the next garbage collection.” She glanced at Malisane and then curiously at Locke. “And you are?”
Locke gave her a brief summary of the story he’d told Malisane and Gavroche. She nodded. “Alright Verdane take these two to the doctor for a checkup and get them kitted out.”

Seng Karash Spaceport
Bay 42
Aeotheran

Harn Yurg watched the crates sliding down the ramp from the freighter’s cargo hatch with a bored resignation. The twilek checked his datapad as each clicked past the barcode reader cataloguing each one. For every Dlarit employee with an exciting and fulfilling job there were a hundred like Yurg who toiled through the day then hit the city’s bars at night to drink and try and forget about it. He was looking forward to tonight, he and a couple of friends were going to the Blue Hutt to join in the fun. Rumour had it the stunningly beautiful Lady Chessene herself was doing a couple of songs tonight and people would be fighting for a table near the stage. He paused a moment as her face briefly flashed through his mind, then he shook his head to clear it and focused on his task.

After a few minutes he frowned. Something was wrong with the inventory, he had the same crate scanned in twice. It was probably an error but he had to check, it was more than his job was worth if something was delivered to the wrong company due to being incorrectly labelled. He walked down the corridor to the holding area. It was quiet, they were understaffed and apart from a few droids he was the only person in the area. He picked up a portable scanner and approached the crates, calling over a lifter droid to help him. When he located the offending crate he waited until the droid placed it on the floor then he pressed a button and the lights began to flash, followed by a burst of freezing vapour as it slid open. He waited for it to clear before leaning inside. He gasped in terror as something dragged him forward into the crate and he felt a pressure on each temple and a wave of agony surged through him as his thoughts were wrenched from his mind. A few seconds later the crate slid shut again sealing his body inside. Something leapt into the rafters and quickly moved away.

The Resettlement Centre
Aeotheran

After having quick examination by the V.O.J. doctor Malisane, or Verdane as these people knew him, lead Kano to an area filled with some of the best and most state of the art armor and equipment that money could buy. Kano's helmet saved several images of the room as well as some unopened boxes still resting on the floor. The Mandalorian enjoyed being back under the confines of his buy'ce, it allowed him to look around as much as he wanted as long as his head didn't move. It was a great tool.

Kano picked up parts of the advanced armor sitting infront of himself and studied it. After several seconds he tossed the armor onto a table and turned to Malisane while hooking his thumbs into his belt.

"I think I will stick with my kit. Besides, no one ever questions why a Mando'ad has one of these on his belt."

Kano patted his hand against the silver hilt hanging just behind the Westar-34 on his right hip. Malisane didn't look to impressed with the gesture and checked to see that Locke was getting himself sorted. As he did this Kano walked towards the door, reached over to shelf, and grabbed a small comm device.

"I think I am going to go for a walk. Talk to some of my new friends. You know how to reach me."

Kano held the comm up so that Malisane could see it as well as pointing towards his helmet to hint that his secure link was open.

Marakith Skyhook
Airspace over Seng Karash
Aeotheran, Orian System

Araic Simonetti filled another glass of Alderaanian Ruge as he stared out the viewport into the skies above Seng Karash. More than a year had gone by since the final battle of the Yuuzhan Vong War, the siege that had seen Orian laid waste to by the barbaric invaders and the traitorous sympathisers and sycophants of Sylus Vega, in which thousands of people, civilian and soldier alike, had paid with their lives. The image of the cosmic fireball that incinerated the Vong flagship still remained burned in Araic’s mind, a rush of red and yellow flames. The burning wreckage had probably done more harm to the fleet than the Vong and Peace Brigade combined, but unlike the Dlarit warships, the Vong ships had melted into green putrescent pools of stellar slime.

For years, the mad alchemist Macron Goura had been a thing of nightmares for Araic and the ordinary men, kept awake by his haunting childlike laugh; even now that giggle still made him wince inside. Yet, when faced with total annihilation, Araic had put aside everything he stood for to authorise Operation Rancor—codeword for the deployment of the violator gas bomb, the VGB. He remembered the first time he saw a man’s eyes bleed out when the alchemist tested it during the original Vong incursion…and now Araic had used it on a previously unprecedented scale. Thousands of Vong, dead at his hands. The scarheads had got what they deserved. Whatever the dark side elite wanted to think, he and his men had ended the war. SOG. The Special Operations Group. Without them, the barbarians would have won.

But victory had come with a price: to end up here, in this cold office, assigned an astromech droid that had been refitted as a protocol unit to serve as his attaché, and which spoke to him as if he were a complete imbecile. This is what happened when half your fleet had been destroyed and there were more important things that needed rebuilding first, like hidden Sith academies and keeping the miners happy to stave off a revolt. Rebuilding was still going on in several places, and some of the cranes could be seen sticking out in between some of the towers in the city below.

‘I have the response from the garrison commander on Tarthos in Markosian City, Admiral Simonetti. The squads requested by General Majerus will arrive within the planet’s next rotation,’ R7 said in its high pitched, tinny voice, which Araic thought sounded like two cheese graters being ground against each other. Whoever designed it had clearly been a sadist, that or some idiot's idea or a practical joke. Araic didn’t bother to look up and just waved the droid to leave the paperwork on his desk. ‘Is there anything else I can assist you with, master?’

‘You can start by leaving me to get on with my work,’ Araic said, shoving a hand toward the exit.

The droid’s head jerked backwards as if to mimic shock, then a few moments later it swivelled around its hip joints and wheeled out the room. If Araic hadn’t known better, he would have been sure the hiss of hydraulic fluid as R7 turned was meant as a snort.

Araic hated being grounded like this. It wasn’t that he was having second thoughts, no. He was the Commander of Special Operations, he’d asked to be reassigned to Marakith instead of wasting money on building a new headquarters in Markosian which could better be used to hurry up construction of the new Final Way II that would eventually replace his damaged flagship. Unlike many of the people around here, he understood the needs of the men, and they and their families needed their new facilities in Markosian sooner than he needed his. No, what angered him was how much other people seemed unable to get their priorities right.

‘Just nuke the kriffing parasites,’ he’d told them when he first heard of this ‘Voice of Justice’ group. The arrogance of these people to think the corporation owed them a living. Had they been forced to come here? No. There were plenty of places in the galaxy for them to flee to during the war. But they picked Orian. Well, that meant recognising who owned the system. How did they think the men and women of Dlarit Security felt about having had to evacuate Kar Alabrek for Markosian City? It was going to take years to clean Kar Alabrek up enough for re-colonisation. They hadn’t bled for these lowlifes who now seemed to think the corporation should provide them with a roof over their head. This wasn’t the Galactic Alliance. Their emperor-given rights meant nothing out here.

But no. His stance hadn’t taken into account the ‘softly-softly’ approach being parroted by High Command now that the war was over. ‘There’ll be an uprising if we just kill them,’ some of the darksiders’ chieftains had said. The darksiders! Araic didn’t understand it at all; since when did the Sith care about these things? Couldn’t they just wave their hands en masse and mind kriff the schutta out of the entire populace so they just forgot?

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

He was starting to think like the three-eyed madman who’d killed his old friend and colleague, Larin Gendash… what was that, nearly four years ago, now? Araic shook his head. He missed Larin, but times had changed. He had changed. In the end, the war had forced him to wake up to the fact he’d been too soft back when the Yuuzhan Vong first appeared. Maybe if he’d realised sooner, Larin—

Araic picked up his glass and downed it in one gulp. There was nothing better than brandy from a planet that no longer existed to help you forget about the past.

No, there wasn’t any room for regrets. All that mattered was to make the most of the situation as it now presented itself. Right then, that meant sitting there, waiting until the fleet was rebuilt and for when he could go back to his real work. But until that time, he was a fleet commander without a fleet. Which meant doing what he could on the ground to help get rid of these halfwit rebels and make them realise, like the True Brotherhood and the Peace Brigade and Vega Incorporated before them, that you Do Not Kark with Dlarit.

Tent City, Seng Karash
Aeotheran

Moving through the city slowly with a worn black walking stick piecing its way along the path, the blind moved with a slight hobble within his tattered grey robes. The dirt was built up among his loose fitting robes along with large portions ripped from it; his skin faired no better with the dirt and grime from living in the city had built up on him. Even the loose scarf tied about his head was torn and covered in dirt. With slight nudging and hushed whispers the people of Tent City tried their best to avoid the blind man.

With the running down the street a Dlarit officer suddenly slammed into the blind man, the two stumbling for a moment before the Dlarit officer started to yell at his collision, "Why you sith-spawned nerf...."
As the officer paused spotting who he had run into he felt the blunt end of the walking stick pounded into his gut before the man drawled off, "Watch where you runnin' ye' monster! Crashin' into a blind man..."

The Officer coughed for a moment before he started to get back up, "I...I'm...I'm sorry sir....I...I didn't realize..."
The Man continued rambling for the moment, "O' course ye' didn' realize, how's a blind man t' avoid what e' can't see?"

With a pause the Officer stumbled backwards before turning to start speaking into a comm unit, "I don't have time for this, Command be advised of a rather disgruntled blind man living in Tent City."

As the Officer started to leave the blind man grunted as he searched for a wall to lean against, the people of the makeshift city helping him to the wall of crates carefully as he thanked them in turn. As he leaned against the wall he slumped down to rest on the ground, his hand slipping a discrete listening device on it. With a slight smile, Methyas began to think how easy it had been to fit in with these people, now to collect data to find a solution to this problem.

Marakith Skyhook
Airspace over Seng Karash
Aeotheran, Orian System

Fremoc moved through the halls, his apprentice Araxis behind him. He knew Kano was off to the surface, and knew he needed a specific piece of equipment before heading to the surface. A Corporal was guarding the room that Teu had been calling "home" since she become the Sergeant of the Bastion. As a gift to his wife for becoming the Sergeant, the Templar had given his wife his old set of armor that he had worn during his commando days. The Corporal saluted Fremoc and Araxis as they entered the room. It took a moment to find the armor and immediately went into the next room to change into the armor. The black armor covered his whole body, except for the green faceplate. He slid the DC-15s Side Arm into the hip holster, as well as the echani dagger and his father's knife in the sheaths on his left hip. He pushed his regular clothes into the pouch at the small of his back and put his lightsaber in a hidden compartment in the breastplate.

The Templar walked into first room again to see Araxis fiddling with his armory lightsaber and immediately stopped when Fremoc walked back in. "This is one time you'll see me in this armor. Kano has, now you have. I need a drink." The two walked out of the room and headed towards the shuttles to the surface.

Blue Hutt
Seng Karash

He walked up to the bar and found a familiar face, with hair down his back. Pulling at the latches, he pulled his helmet off and hooked it to his belt. The man sat next to the Son of Sadow waving to the bartender to bring him a drink.

"Well Sai, it looks like you've already started with out me," said Fremoc Pepoi.

"Who's the kid behind you?"

"Araxis. My newest apprentice. Hopefully this one won't disappear like the rest." He chuckled as he looked Araxis, "He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into does he?"

"Considering your in the line of fire in almost every battle that your in, and that Kano is a bit crazy, I say not." Sai chuckled as well and took a sip of his drink. The bartender brought Fremoc his drink.

"Cheers."

The Resettlement Centre
Aeotheran

In the supply room, Locke picked up some of the armor, swaying slightly as he did so. His body wasn't used to alcohol, but he did what he needed to in order to blend in. Carefully placing it on his shoulders, Locke realized it was pretty heavy. He had never really worn armor before, yet it felt right for some reason, and after a few seconds of awkwardness, he was able to get used to it.

Next game the equipment. He turned to the smaller crates stacked on the other side of the room that must’ve held weapons. Flipping the latches up on one of the crates, Locke noted two pistols, a carbine, and some other assorted weapons inside. Smiling to himself, he pulled the pistols out, placing them on his belt. Then he picked up the carbine and spun it in his hands a little. “Nice toy, “ the Guardian muttered to himself.

Turning back to Malisane, Locke tightened his armor until it fit snugly over his body. “Right, I think I’ll take a look around outside, see what there is it see. I’ll have my comlink close at hand if you need me to do anything, though."

With that, Locke slipped back out into the humid, muddy streets of the Resettlement Camp. As he walked among the people-this time wearing shiny new armor and weapons instead of rags-most actually seemed glad he was there. He could feel hope emanating from them; as if these armed men were their saviors. Fools, he thought, they’re just another power hungry rebel group trying to capitalize on the war.

As he walked, Locke did a good job of looking official, while keeping one hand around his comlink. If it vibrated, he wanted to make sure he was able to pick it up at a moment’s notice. Locke wasn’t sure what his role in this conflict would be, but he wanted to be ready to help bring it to a swift close. The longer things like this went on, the more out of control they got.

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt

The place was, for the lack of a better term, jumping.

Midway between his 7th or 8th round, Tsainetomo looked up from his Corellian ale to see all sorts of people clamoring at the bar or jockeying for a table surrounding the meager stage area.

“So you see, Araxis, it is customary for all newbies to buy every odd numbered round…” Sai’s cajoling of Fremoc’s charge was good humored, and meant to complete his camouflage, allowing him to blend in amongst the crowd.

The Son of Sadow swiveled in the stool and took everything in with his tripartite gaze. He had long since (around his 3rd drink) sent Dyrra a holo of the layout, and he now took stock of the patrons. They were varied and sundry, consisting of those Karashi denizens who could afford to have a drink or two, and those who needed a drink or three after a long day of work…or trying to find work. Here and there were pockets of Dlarit personnel, their uniforms or still-attached name badges proclaiming their loyalties. They stayed mostly to themselves…and stuck out like sand-people on Hoth. Which was part of the problem, in Tsainetomo's mind. Still, he found it funny that, no matter what the politics were on any given day, they could be put aside for the want of a good drink.

The bar seemed unusually crowded, and the bartender was kind enough to tell him so between rounds. A couple of the rowdier patrons cast evil looks at Sai everytime the barkeep passed them up to refresh his glass; not their fault, really, seeing as how they couldn’t nudge the bartender with the Force when they wanted his ministrations.

A gentle caress of his shoulder followed by a playful tug of his hair gave Tsainetomo pause. “Lekku-envy?” The twi’lek female who smiled seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, and Sai obliged.

“Never had a reason to be, miss…?” His playful retort and tone let the twi’lek know that he would give his attention, but maybe at a higher cost than she might be prepared to pay.

Nonplussed, she chuckled her answer. “Actually, it’s ‘Lady’. Lady Chessene. And you…?”

Tsainetomo raised an eyebrow amidst the relative silence between them, letting a roguish grin crease his features.

The twi’lek was again, impressively unaffected. “…are obviously not from around here. Hm. A stranger…one that I hope sticks around for the show.” Her smile lingered, as did the display the swinging of her hips as she sauntered off to mingle amongst the crowd.

Fremoc and his apprentice were watching in silence, and as soon as she was out of earshot, the Templar gave a yell and a hard clap to Sai’s back. “Man, that was smooth!”

“Truthfully, she’d be more my cousin’s speed; those tentacle-y things freak me the hell out.” Sai guffawed as he drained the rest of his ale. All of this was for the benefit of some rather shady characters who had begun to watch the trio as soon as Lady Chessene walked up to them. When Tsainetomo turned back to the bar, Fremoc silently signaled him, pointing in the direction within the bar that the twi’lek had come. Rather loudly, the Keibatsu made an announcement that he had to make room, and made a show of stumbling drunkenly towards the refreshers.

No need for anyone to know that he’d been using the Dark Side to burn off the alcohol’s poison before it could enter his blood-stream…well, most of it.

He bumped and bungled his way through the crowd in the direction of the refreshers, taking care to note the ‘hidden’ door that lay just past them. He was going to investigate it when one of the ‘watchers’, a battle-scarred human, grabbed his shoulder.

“Hold it, friend; the refresher is right here.” Sai quickly affected his drunken mien as he was spun around.

“S-sor-*hic*-sorry…” Tsainetomo stumbled over his words, judiciously applying the Dark Side to the brute’s mind to complete the illusion of inebriation.

He went in, handled his business, and left…and noted the brute still hanging back, trying to hide in the shadows. Tsainetomo smiled inwardly as he meandered back to Fremoc and his apprentice.

A fresh ale waited for him as he sidled back up to the bar. “Well, gents, we may have something of interest here. We’re probably going to have to wait until another night, though, as we have eyes upon us.” Fremoc nodded his assent while Araxis looked on.

“So, I know that ‘mama’ Dyrra will want us back pretty soon…let’s have a couple of more rounds while we wait.”

“Wait for who?” the Templar asked.

“A good friend.” Sai’s sun-bronzed features brightened as the Epis couldn’t help but smile at the entrance of the man of the tattooed visage and haunting giggle…the Alchemist himself, Macron.

Seng Karash

"And now another broadcast from Ven Dastari on behalf of C.A.R.E”

“Ladies and Gentlemen it has come to my attention that the Police have played a huge role in the recent hostage recovery attempt and the brutal treatment of refugees. The once proud Police department has become nothing more than a simple gang that works illegally for profits and personal gain. I am horrified by the behaviour this trusted group is displaying and personally vow to put an end to their terror filled rein!”

***********************************************************************************


C.A.R.E Campaign Headquarters
Commerical and Leisure District
Seng Karash

The screen glowed with the news caster on it mumbling something about the weather. Jade and Soolan stood next to Dastari as he turned away from the screen, having recently replayed his grand speech.
“I need to thank you two for your fine contributions to C.A.R.E and for providing me with the words to take down this group to once again bring order to our society.” Soolan nodded, and Jade smiled still hiding behind her sunglasses. “With you two at my side I can finally see this as a possibility.”

The screen crackled as the news caster cut into a recent feed from the head of the Aeotheran Police, a small name plate came up under the blue skinned mans’ picture, Major General Sipask. “I am outraged at the claims by C.A.R.E’s Van Dastari.” All three occupants in the room turned their attention to the screen. “The police have done nothing but be supportive of the citizens and refuges of Seng Karash!” His fisted hand came down on the podium he was standing on. “We have proof that it was not the police involved in these attacks, but rather members of the Dlarit Corporation!” A few slides of D:SOG soldiers jumped across the screen. Each was clearly marked in their uniforms, opening fire on refugees, some of them Having their guns at their sides, obviously out of bullets but throwing rocks and various other debris around them. “I demand an apology by the C.A.R.E. organization and Van Dastari!”

Dastari had waves of anger rolling off of him, mixed with embarrassment, easily felt by Jade and Soolan through the force. But before he could say or do anything the report cut out to show a young female officer handing a citizen back the wallet he had just dropped. Another name place came up under the young lady as her face took the screen, Officer Chrisatna Hlskia, Leisure District. Her green eyes shining like emeralds which suggested the lady had either been crying or had used eye drops add more effect. She brushed a strand of red hair out of her face and looked from the reporter just off side of the camera into the camera itself. “I joined the Police force to protect the people living in Seng Karash. After having my family’s home broken into, and forced by the criminals to give them everything precious we owned, I wanted to make sure no one ever went through a similar situation. Having accusations, like those just spoken by Van Dastari, hurts. It’s my honour to serve and protect the citizens here, and I cannot imagine anyone on the Police force doing the actions as claimed....”

Dastari threw the controller at the screen, the screen shutting itself off. He stood up and glared at Soolan and Jade before storming out of the office the door slamming so hard both women were surprised it didn’t fall off.

Soolan turned to Jade who smiled the tips of her fangs just visible. “I hate it when those show.”

Jade laughed, something she hadn’t done for a while, not with the voices running around in her mind. She was lucky though, today they had settled down to a dimmer almost as if watching to see how everything played out, it only added to her suspicions. “Poor guy never saw it coming.”

Soolan nodded, “Might be hard to convince him to let us continue to help him.”

Jade shook her head. “I’m sure we’ll find a way. Though I am curious about that Police Head they showed. He seems familiar.”

“His name rang a bell, but nothing more for me.”

“hmmm, it’s been a while since I have dug into CNS history, I’ll have to see what I can find out about this Major.” Jade moved towards the door to leave the room. “I think we should give him an hour to cool down.”

Soolan nodded in agreement. “Sounds good.”

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt

Kalei was looking around for a bar that she had been told was pretty good, and that a lot of people were probably going to be meeting there. But who knew if word of mouth was right. Next to her looking a bit overwhelmed was her new apprentice, Sarconn. Finally finding the Blue Hutt, she looked over at her apprentice.

"Sarconn, don't worry. We're just going for a drink. Plus we maybe able to meet up with some other clan members. Just don't let me drink anything to strong."

She gave a quick wink and walked into the bar, seeing something that made her smirk as she walked towards the bar. It seemed Tsainetomo had not the best luck with ladies. Shaking her head, she went up to the bar, making sure there was a seat for Sarconn. Ordering herself a drink and allowing him to do the same. Spotting Fremoc and his own new apprentice, she figured it was a good place to come.

"How bout you go talk with the other apprentice that is here?"

She nodded towards Araxis who was near Fremoc. Sitting back and sipping her own drink, it was nice to see people actually relaxing and enjoying their drinks.

The Resettlement Center, Aeotheran, Orian System

Storm clouds had swept in not long after the sun went down. Through the remote refugee camp, tents flapped in the wind as multi-species groups of dishevelled refugees clustered together around the crackling flames of open fires. Every so often, someone would scream when a bright flash shot through the resettlement center, briskly followed by an earth-trembling crack of thunder overhead.

Near the edge of the camp where the artificial clearing ended and the wild forests of Aeotheran resumed, a young Quermian girl jerked upright and let out a scream, her long neck going rigid. A Gigoran sitting by the fire with her put a furry paw on her knee. ‘Easy, there,’ the Gigoran said in broken Basic, which wasn’t helped by the species’ usual preference to communicate through grunts. ‘It’s just lightning.’ The corners of the Gigoran’s shaggy jowl turned upwards like a human smile.

But the Quermian shook her head and raised a hand, extending a finger to point at the nearby forest edge. ‘There, look.’ Her voice was barely a whisper. The Gigoran turned and watched as the thick fabric of vines and poisonous fruits untangled themselves, parting for long enough for a woman to emerge—then as quickly as they had opened, they sealed shut again, barring entry to the jungle.

The woman vaguely resembled a human… but she was not human. She was wearing what looked like thick tan hides from an animal; her skin was faintly purple and pallid in appearance, thick blue veins visible where they beat under the surface. Where a human would have had hair, the cap of her skull appeared coated in flaky patches of loose scales.

She briefly glanced at the Gigoran and smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp fangs, then she turned away and vanished into the crowds of numberless species.

‘What was that?’ the Quermian asked.

The Gigoran didn’t reply right away. ‘I—I don’t know.’

Inside Deliverance’s tent

Deliverance stood beside a small table on which Gavroche had an old fashioned paper map of Aeotheran sprawled open. The pair was studying the extensive monorail network that spanned from the central city hub inside Seng Karash out across the rest of the planet to the far-reaching mining stations, out to which hundreds of miners commuted to-and-from the city each day.

Gavroche ran a finger along one of the monorail lines leading out of the city before tapping his finger on a circle at the end of the line. ‘The map’s a little out of date, but this mine’s still being used.’

Deliverance studied the drawing. ‘Within reach of the speeders too.’

The man nodded. ‘There’s a small junction station here as well.’ He tapped on another mark halfway along where the line branched off in two directions.

A draft blew through the tent, pulling at the corners of the open map. In the entrance stood a tall lavender skinned humanoid. A gem-encrusted blade hung at her hip. ‘One trusts one is not interrupting?’ She spoke in a thick ethnic accent which was at odds with her unusual mix of the much older dialect of High Galactic.

While Gavroche looked uneasy, Deliverance turned and shared a smile with the lithe but muscular woman in the doorway. ‘Not at all, Etenia. We’re planning the upcoming op.’

Etenia’s violet eyes seemed to literally light up at the news. ‘Excellent. One cannot wait.’

Resettlement Centre
Aeotheran

The assembled Voice of Justice members sat assembled waiting for their leader to enter the room, including the recent recruits. Locke and Kano sat chatting in a corner, and Malisane was talking with Gavroche They were still expecting a few more members to come down to join them. They looked up as the woman entered the room, and she cast a curious eye over them. "Alright let's get this moving. A lot of you are angry about recent events, the massacre out there which claimed innocent lives. It's time to hit them back."
Kordan, a tall heavily set member with a bald head and tatooed arms spoke up. "What are we doing?"
"We're going to continue to hit them in the pocket and cause disruiption. Thanks to a suggestion by Veldane," she indicated Malisane, "we're going to hit the monorail system tonight." She took a small decivce from her pocket and clicked it at the table, above which a map of the planet appeared, focusing down on Seng Karash and the surrounding area showing a flashing luminous line entering the city. "The monorail system, Dlarit's link between the outlying mines across the planet and Seng Karash, transport for it's workers and mining output. This is our target."
A few people shifted in their chairs. Gavroche spoke up, "Boss we've always maintained a policy of minimal casualties, isn't that running a risk?"
She shook her head, "We're going to hit an ore delivery train. We have the sheduale. At twenty-two hundred an unmaned ore train approaches the city on the main line. When it passes this point we're explosives we're going to set will be detonated and crash the train and a section of the line, not only destroying it's freight but also disabling the line until they can repair it."
"Sounds good," Kano replied though he gave a slight glance at Malisane curiously.
"Wait a minute," Locke spoke up suddenly, "it can't be that easy to bomb the track."
"That's the bit we need you all for," Deliverance replied, "the track has a sophisticated security system. It's controlled from a monitoring station at this point," she moved the display to show a remote building surrounded by a fence near a point in the track, "If anyone goes near the track or a suspect device is placed there it will automatically stop all movement along the line and summon security offiicals. We need to disable the security. We go in there and capture the building. Then Verdane has volunteered to plant the device."
"Can we expect much resistance from Dlarit Security?" Kordan asked.
She shrugged. "It's a risk. They patrol the line, There may also have them at the monitoring station. However we're going to be subtle under cover of darkness," she replied, "if we do encounter resistance we use whatever force is nessesary."
"Any mission has risk to it," Malisane added, "no one said this would be totally bloodless. If they come we have to silence them quick otherwise we'll have troops there."
"Just don't get carried away," Deliverance replied giving Malisane a stern glance, "we're not at the open warefare stage yet if a company of Dlarit soldiers turn up we abandon it." She looked around at them all slowly. "This is the chance we've been waiting for, once we hit their mining operations there's no going back. They'll have to listen to us, I know many of you are upset about what happened recently, but we take it with us and make us stronger. Once we show we mean business they will come to the table to listen to our demands." The people around the room nodded at her words. "Alright get some food all of you, get back here at twenty hundred hours." She turned and left the room.

Malisane stretched then got up and headed outside, Kano and Locke following. Locke waited until they were alone then turned to the Battlelord. "I don't see how this helps us," he said dubiously, "if she carries out her plan they'll just win more support."
"The plan isn't going to go as she planned," Malisane said as he reached into his pocket and took out a bottle of liquor he'd obtained from somewhere, "I can get in touch with Marakith. At twenty eight thirty hundred a passenger train leaves Delta mine on it's final stop and arrives in Seng Karash twenty minutes later. Deliverance knows about it but is confident it will be out of the way by the time we get there. We're going to delay it and cancel the one carrying the ore."
Kano's eyes gleamed. "I like it."
Locke nodded, "What about the Dlarit police?"
"If they turn up we kill them, there's not likely to be too many they won't be expecting trouble. They're disposable,"
"We could have them waiting in force for us when we arrive," Kano replied, "take this lot out once and for all."
Malisane shook his head. "This Deliverance isn't stupid, she won't throw all her people in that's why she wants us. Manji was clear he wants us to disrupt her plans and cause outrage against her. Once the population turns on the V.O.J and sees this place as a breeding ground for terrorists and murderer's we can purge as hard as we want."
"That makes sense."

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt

Fremoc watched as Sarconn and his apprentice started to chat. Sai was still drinking and he was drinking his ale. Kalei was watching everyone off in a corner of the bar. The Templar could sense his wife was on the way to the Blue Hutt, and knew he needed to leave before she arrived. He had his own mission and was going to be else where. He touched her briefly in the Force before closing himself off to their connection. Taking one long pull at his ale, he slapped Sai on the back with his armored hand. Sai moved forward with the slap and looked over at the Templar.

"What was that for?"

"I'm leaving," came Fremoc's reply. His one eye locked onto the Son of Sadow's tripartite eyes. The black and green helmet slid onto the former commando's head and with a soft locking sound, the Templar was completely encased. "I have some.. business to attend to."

"Need back up?"

"Negative, I have an old grudge against some terrorists." With that Fremoc turned and left the Blue Hutt.

Near the Resettlement Centre
Aeotheran

Malisane stood on the edge of the Resettlement Centre, awaiting the signal to gather at whatever transport Deliverance had managed to obtain. They'd left camp separately so not to draw attention to themselves, and Malisane with his newly acquired armour and blaster rifle hidden under his grey cloak stood watching the lights of the city of Seng Karash. He was oddly meloncholy. Underneath the fury and unrelenting determination his accident and the Bastion had put in him a last spark of the old decadent happy man remained. He was abouit to send several hundred Dlarit employees to their death. These people he'd spent so long looking after like pets since he had become Aedile and Quaestor the first time. The Clan's policy of keeping a happy loyal workforce had made so much sense then. None of them were hungry, they were well fed and paid, had luxury goods in the shops and the finest entertainment to buy with their money had safe working conditions, a clean attractive city virtually free from crime and disease to live in, despite the Dark Side nature of their employers their were possibly the best treated employees in the galaxy. He'd even liked them as pets, enjoyed socialising and dining and dancing with them in Dystopia and Lor Zatean. He had built them the park the dome of which he could make out against the skyline, an entire holiday island to relax in, and playing the philanthropic statesman had been a welcome distraction from the madness around him of the Brotherhood, a tonic for past disappointments when he'd seen his promising leadership career go down the drain.

But they hadn't been pets, pets remained loyal so long as you fed and cared for them. They' were vermin who took what they could then bit the hand that fed them.. Despite everything they'd been given they now shouted against Dlarit in the park he'd built and him before Manji had removed him from Quaestor and Governor, listened to the fool Dastari, threatened to strike. More and more of them every day railed against the safe comfortable existence their masters had given them, ungrateful and complacent. Now they had to pay. Watching the silhouette of an ungrateful and rebellious city he knew their plan had failed. The sheep and wolves out there in the city needed to know who they served and exactly what their lives and their pitiful existence was worth.

He turned as he sensed an explosion behind him, a burning flare surging up in the darkness. He quickly made his way over to the source of the flare and found Deliverance and several others waiting around a small flatbacked speeder. He cast a professional eye over it. It was a heap. After the high tech weapons and armour Deliverance had managed to obtain their transport looked like something they'd put together with scrap metal.
She sensed his disapproval. "You have a comment to make Verdane?" she asked curiously, "this is the best we could obtain and hide out here. If we had a fully equipped shuttle we'd be flying supplies in and out of the system ourselves."
"It's a heap of junk," Malisane observed giving it a kick, "if we need to make a quick escape we'd be better picking it up and carrying it."
"It will do," she replied firmly, "so long as it gets us to our location it will serve admirably."
"I don't share your confidence," Malisane repeated quietly. He looked around as Locke, Kano and the Ekind appeared from out of the darkness. Deliverance had another three of her people sat in the speeder. "Where is Gavroche?"
"He and two others went ahead to prime the explosives. We will signal them once we have the monitoring station under our control." She turned and hefted herself gracefully onto the back of the speeder, and waved for them to join. Shakily the craft lifted up, and began their journey. Malisane glanced at Kano and Locke, and they both nodded slightly. They knew what to do.

Above the city eyes watched as Malisane had, as something perched almost lazily on top of a tall tower block in the Government District. He opened it's mouth and breathed in, smelling and sampling the smells from below, while it's mind processed the information. Then it began to climb rapidly down the sheer surface of the building, an almost invisible shadow against the night.

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt

Sarconn moved over towards Araxis, keeping his senses on his Master to make sure that she didn’t go overboard with the drinks. This bar wasn’t the ideal place he had in mind, the fact he had to almost shoulder his way past people bugged him and put him on edge.

“So you are Kalei’s new apprentice huh?” Araxis asked him as soon as he got within earshot, “My name is Araxis, I’m Fremoc’s new apprentice. I would ask if you wanted a drink, but I was conned into buying rounds for them.”

He tipped his head towards the crowded bar, to anyone else it would have been impossible to tell who this Protector was talking about, but they were not just anyone. Sensing a strong power of the Dark Side, Sarconn was able to tell that he was referring to a man in Mandalorian armor and he was talking to someone next to him.

Glancing over his shoulder back at his Master to check up on her the Miraluka said, “Well it seems we are the only two that doesn’t have a drink in our hand, how about we change that?”

With that Sarconn waved down a waitress and ordered two drinks, then clasped Araxis’s shoulder.

“Names Sarconn by the way.”

Tent City, Seng Karash
Aeotheran

"What the hell are you doing?!"

The angry shout rang through the air as a woman clad in dirty clothing was pushed to the floor, the carefully-wrapped food she was clutching to her chest scattered across the ground. A Dlarit-uniformed policeman had pushed past her roughly, knocking her to the ground before turning to shout, his own temper obviously flaring from the air of tension filling the tent city. The few other refugees around turned at the sound, their expressions darkening as the Dlarit policeman stood over the woman, his face dark with anger. Slowly, they glanced at each other and closed in, bloodthirsty intent writ large upon their faces.

Suddenly, a heavily robed figure appeared behind the woman. One hand twitched slightly, deep inside the voluminous sleeve of his robe, comprised of many tattered pieces of cloth thrown over each other. Immediately, the Dlarit policeman was hurled to the floor as though pushed, dirt splattering upwards where he landed. Another slight gesture from the robed figure, and the six or so refugees surrounding them stepped backwards, their faces sliding from anger into mild confusion. They were unsure what they'd seen, and the scene rapidly rewrote itself in their heads as the robed figure concentrated silently, weaving a net of the Dark Side.

One refugee turned to the man beside him.

"That robed bloke, he attacked that woman, didn't he?"

His friend nodded hesitantly; it seemed to make sense.

"Yeah... and then the Dlarit bloke rescued her, right?"

To strengthen the illusion, the robed figure immediately began running, beating a hasty retreat. His robes fluttered around him like a crow's wings as several of the refugees shouted and pursued him, those remaining now adamant that what they had been shown was true; several others lifted the Dlarit policeman to his feet and clapped him on the back, praising him in loud voices. The woman rose to her feet and thanked him profusely, everybody missing the slightly confused expression on the Dlarit policeman's face.

From several makeshift streets away, having quickly darted out of sight of his pursuers, Manji chuckled quietly to himself. The sheep were so easily fleeced; it was a small thing, what he'd done, but the key to winning back support for the Dlarit Corporation in Seng Karash was the small things. Glancing up at the night sky, dusted with crystalline stars, Manji cautiously reached out with the Force, his mind dwelling on the update he'd received from Darla a few hours ago. Malisane, Kano and Locke should have been in the process of sabotaging the supply train by now... for all their sakes, he hoped they didn't kark it up.

Commercial District
Blue Hutt

Tsainetomo finished off his ale and spun again in his barstool. The lighting around the stage area had dimmed and a muted expectation had settled on the drunken crowd. After a moment, the twi’lek who’d flirted with the Son of Sadow alit upon the stage in practiced grace to the sound of raucous applause and whistles.

“Thank you very much! It seems we have a packed crowd tonight, so I’ll do my best not to disappoint.” The crowd erupted as Lady Chessene let the light shift that adorned her shoulders drop to the floor, showing her ample charms. Espying the Keibatsu at the bar, she threw a wink his way; Tsainetomo tossed a half-grin back as he spun back to settle his tab. The twi’lek launched into one of her more rowdy numbers, but Sai barely heard the lyrics. He knew he’d overstayed his welcome, and it was time to report back to the staging area.

He paid for Araxis’ and Sarconn’s drinks, with an extra tip for the barkeep. “Let them know they’re from ‘a friend’, would’ya?” Without waiting for an answer – the Dark Side ensured the barkeep’s compliance – Tsainetomo rose from his barstool and made his way through the crowd, much less drunkenly than he did earlier. Extending his Force-senses, he noted the Sadowans amongst the mundane.

They were all doing a great job at being unimposing and unobtrusive – the exact opposite of what the Dlarit personnel were doing. They continued to huddle in small packs, drinking and whispering. The Son of Sadow sighed; when were they going to learn that to gain intelligence, they had to act intelligent, and their elitism, even in a bar, was going to get them nothing.

He espied Macron, engaged in a heated drinking game with some of the locals. I see you, you salty dog, you! Sai marveled inwardly at the Alchemist’s ability to blend. He missed working with pros.

Sai stepped out into the cool night air, and ushered past the long queue that had formed at the door. The place is packed to capacity, and people are still clamoring to get in! His friend Malisane, Sai thought, could use a pointer or two as to how to run a bar…if he could keep from blowing them up.

Smiling inwardly at the joke, the Keibatsu took a round-about route to the warehouse. For all intents and purposes, the Blue Hutt could be an innocent establishment. It had plenty of drinks and drunkards to drink them, and the sheer size of the crowd spoke to any logistical implausibility of any shady goings-on within.

Implausible, but not impossible. There was the matter of the guarded door beyond the refreshers…and the not-so-subtle attentions of the has-been entertainer whose voice chased him into the night. Oh yes, he’d have to go back, but not too soon. He’d been noticed, and that was not an entirely good thing when trying to subvert a revolution.

Satisfied he hadn’t been followed, he made to turn down the alley that led to one of the warehouse’s entrances…and an ethereal pulse from the direction of Tent City alerted him to a familiar presence…one he hadn’t felt since…

…his cousin attacked him on the skyhook.

Approaching Monorail Monitoring Station
Aeotheran

As the flatbed speeder moved towards the monitoring station Kano stood up to look around. The images on the inside of his visor were a green color but as visible as in the day. The Mandalorian scanned the area as they got closer to the monorail security station. It didn't take long for a fence to appear ahead in the woods. Kano noticed something else too. Walking along the fence was a Dlarit Security patrol. Not wanting him to alert anyone of the speeder moving closer Kano pulled the DC-17m that he had picked up before heading out off of his back and attached the sniper attachment to it. The Mandalorian looked through the scope and could instantly see every feature on the side of the security guards head. Almost as if he could feel that someone was watching his the security guard looked towards the speeder. Kano could tell by the look in the man's eyes that he had heard the speeder and could make out its motion in the darkness. A hole appeared in the middle on the mans forehead and he fell back against the fence and dropped to the ground.

"Stop the speeder. This thing will give us away if we get any closer. We go on foot from here."

Deliverance glanced at the Mandalorian standing in all black armor on the back of the speeder and signaled for everyone to dismount. Malisane looked up at Kano and knew from his time as The Bastion Sergeant at Arms that this was the stuff Kano lived for. It was the hunt. The element of surprise. Mostly it was the satisfaction of the kill.

Everyone climbed down off the speeder and checked their weapons before heading into the woods for the short walk to where the Security Monetering Station sat.

Monorail monitoring station, somewhere in the Aeotheran jungle

The purplish-skinned alien hopped off the back of the open-topped landspeeder, landing with the grace of a dancer, making no sound at all. The same could not be said for the heavily armoured impromptu-refugee-commandos behind her. One of them—Etenia forgot his name—hit the earth hard; a pair of night songbirds which had been roosted in a nearby tree squawked, then fluttered off.

Deliverance snapped her head back round to the small team. ‘Quiet!’

Without a word, the other men unloaded—carefully this time—from the landspeeder. When the last was off, the driver switched off the engine, and a blissful silence fell across the woodland, broken only by the steady humming of the small monitoring station's massive floodlights, which cast long shadows behind the trees packed closely underneath the jungle canopy.

The monitoring station stood alongside the main railway track which cut straight through the forest as if a giant had scoured Aeotheran’s surface with a flaming whip. In the fourteen years since the Dlarit Corporation first arrived, the wild had sought to reclaim the land, a handful of vines wrapped round the track, and the fence around the metal outpost was covered in moss and fungi. Fools, thought Etenia. To think you could bend Sepros’s will to your own. Yes, Sepros; she would never use the conqueror’s name.

Ahead, one of the refugees crept through the trees, then flattened against one, ducked, and glanced round the edge toward the monitoring station; a second later, he looked back, held up a hand, and waved for them to follow. Deliverance went first, followed closely by the one with the burnt face, then the Mandalorian. The beskar-plated warrior crouched; as they waited for the scout to wave them on, a serpent slithered cross the Mandalorian’s foot. It took him a moment to realise; when he did, he reached down with his crushgaunt, gripped the snake’s head, burst it like a balloon; orange blood splattered over his shin plates. Deliverance’s face shot across at the sound, frowned, then turned back to the scout who was now standing over the body of the deceased guard.

The scout waved for the group to follow.

‘You! Hands up!’ To the left of the scout, two more guards had just rounded the corner of the fence. ‘Put the weapon on the ground and turn around slowly!’

Etenia watched the refugee slowly bend down, his arms holding the assault rifle out straight as if to comply and put the weapon down…

Tent City, Seng Karash
Aeotheran

The dull clink of the walking stick tapping against the occasional tent post could be heard as the blind beggar moved along the street, trying to stay out of the way. Stopping for a moment to get his bearings, his mind started to wander, "All these people were expecting a home before the Invasion...and I sit in the lap of luxury where they should be."
As he started ahead he stumbled, tripping over a stone he hadn't seen of felt near his feet. Without missing a beat the young Miraluka let himself fall, only to be caught before he hit the ground. Mumbling and whispers could be heard all around as the young Dlarit officer started helping the blind man up, "Are you alright sir? Here, let me help you find a place to sit down."

The murmuring seemed to increase as the people seemed in awe of what was happening, the officer looking over the area for a moment as he wrapped his arm under the blind man's and started leading him towards a nearby "store". The supporting officer slung his rifle over his shoulder and handed some of his rations to a younger child as he spoke to his companion, "Jake, where's the nearest water pump around here? Some of these people look dehydrated."
As Jake helped Methyas into a seat he made sure the man's walking stick was in his hand before standing and speaking again, "Try near the retaining wall to the north-east, maybe five to ten metres from here; Rayfor, can you make sure he's fine before he leaves? I need to make sure that some of the nearby food stores aren't being raided or overdrawn by overeager moneymakers."
"Nosa problem, mesa maken sure hesa doing good before hesa be leavin'." The Gungan spoke quickly as the Dlarit officer nodded and started off on his next obective, the Gungan noticing Methyas looking vaguely towards the officer, "Yousa no to be worrying friend, yousa in good hands, everything being okeeday!"

With a quiet nod Methyas couldn't say anymore, reaching out through the Force to try and follow the officer; the young man was too good to be true, he was helpful and looking out for the people...maybe there was a way to turn this in their favour.

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt

"Good to meet you Sarconn," Araxis replied extending his hand, "a drink seems like a fine idea" he finished saying clasping the other apprentices hand. The waitress was quick to shovel her way past the crowd so that she could take some orders, thereby making her nightly credits.

With the orders placed, Araxis looked around, he saw everyone having one of those enjoyable nights he wished he could once have as a child. Not a drunk one, but just the general fun that seemed to come with it. Long were those times fleeting, The waitress returned, as quickly as before did she shovel pass the crowd. "A 'friend' over there," she pointed quickly, not leaving much time to either of the apprentices to take notice, "said he'd pay for these, enjoy!"

Araxis looked at the drink, then looked around to find this friend she spoke of. "Ah well, I sense there isn't anything to wrong with this situation, to this 'friend'" Araxis spoke raising his glass in a cheers. Sarconn met Araxis' glass with his own, the two knocked back the drink quickly.

"So brother Sarconn, tell me, how has your time been going as an apprentice to Kalei" Araxis asked bluntly, his mind still fixated on the joyful time the drunkards seemed to be having.

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt
Teu stopped outside the door of the bar for a moment, reaching up she pulled on her hair and tugged out a hair tie allowing the long brown hair to flow down her shoulders. She shook her head once, and then followed through with running her hands through her hair. Looking into a small compact mirror she sighed, it was evident that she was not well slept; closing the mirror and stuffing it into a small pocket she entered the bar.

Taking a quick glance she noticed several familiar faces in the crowd but not the one she was looking for, moving towards the bar she got a large drink and moved to a table in the corner and sat sipping the sweet concoction. She leaned back and watched the festivities that went on.

One or two drunken men stumbled past her table too busy trying to keep from falling over themselves then the women, alone, at the table. Shaking her head she smacked her lips together and went back to drinking. As her cup became less full another one appeared in its place, she could get used to this.

Tent City, Seng Kerash

The rain was pouring in the refugee camp. In a dark corner a pile of dirty rags and refuse was ignored by all who passed by, wrinkling their noses in disgust at the smell. Even the police ignored it, some making a wider berth as they went by.

The comlink in his hand buzzed.

"Yes, my Master?"

"What information has been forthcoming from Kano?" came the voice of Taig

"None as of yet my Master, however they do say no news is good news"

"Stay in position until all that we have planned comes to fruition, then you are to assist and follow the orders of Kano, it appears that the timing to this is all in his hands at the moment. I shall contact you should anything change. You do however have autonomy to react to any situation that arises that you can easily and quietly take care of. I will issue you with further direction as required"

"As you command my Master"

The com went quiet. Quo had been sat in the same position for two days, his issued Mandolorian sniper rifle in pieces placed around his robes ready for assembly and use. His body was using as little energy as possible through his connection with the force, resembling nothing more than a pile of refuse to the casual observer, however observing all around him, and the coms he was aware of much that was going on within the mission. At the right moment he would be ready to move and carry out his part of the plan. Until then it was sit tight and wait.

His body slowed down so that his energy consumption was at it's minimum to function, having only been topped up by his dry rations secreted about his person. He knew his time for action would come.

He began his meditations, preparing his mind and body for the long wait

Guardian Quo Wing-Tzun, Battleteam Night Raptors

Near Seng Karash
Aeotheran

Gavroche lay in the undergrowth, idly waiting for the signal. Nearby his two assistants also lay on the damp ground backpacks on the grass next to them. Above them they could hear the crackle of electricity along the rail. "You sure you know what we have to do?" Melret asked, the zabrak glancing up at the track nervously.
Gavroche looked back with a withering glance. "For the last time, yes. It's not complicated."
"I hope that sergeant knew what he' was doing," Kelena added from the other side, "a homemade explosive put together in a shed that can blow up an entire train doesn't sound safe." She looked at the innocent looking black box next too Gavroche.
The little man grinned. "You should stop talking then," he whispered back, "it might be responsive to loud noises." He laughed quietly. "Relax, Veldane said he knew what he was doing. He's worked with bombs before." In truth he was also a bit nervous about the device but he wasn't admitting it.
Melret gave Gavroche a long look. "Yeah and what does he look like now now? Something you'd send back to the kitchen in a rib restaurant. I'd say at least one of his bombs has gone wrong somewhere."
"We'll just wait for the signal. Once the device is planted and the train approaches we'll find a big tree to hide behind."

Kappa Mine Station
Aeotheran.

The general mood in the carriage was one of impatient annoyance. On it and the other carriages two hundred tired and hungry mining workers sat looking out of the window at the station or the dark forest on the other side. This was the last stop on the train into Seng Karash and most of them had expected a quick twenty minute journey to the city followed by supper and bed, or for the more adventurous a shower, a shave and a shoeshine and onto the bars and clubs. Instead they'd been here thirty five minutes now and they were getting angry. Loved ones would be waiting, meals would be getting cold, drinking happy hours would be running out. A muttering was filling the air.
Out on the platform an equally angry conversation was taking place. The station supervisor was waving angrily at the train then the driver. "You must be able to do something."
The driver took a deep breath, "We're doing something," he replied glancing down the platform to where his engineers were stood pouring over the open maintainence hatch and scratching their heads, "it was fine when we pulled in. Passed a maintainence check before we left the city. It's a puzzle alright."
The station supervisor fixed him with an dark stare. "Well get the damn thing moving," he snarled, "I've got a freight train backed up behind it that can't get into load, and three hundred tonnes of carbon ore sat waiting. Someones going to get in the drek] over this and it isn't going to be me!" He turned and stalked off.
The driver turned as another man walked up, a calm dark haired man who'd been waiting near the end of the platform when they pulled into the station but hadn't boarded the train. The man looked at the engineers curiously, then back at the driver. "Having problems?"
The driver spat on the platform. He didn't know who the man was but he didn't need gawking passengers in his face. "What does it damn well look like?" he snapped.
The man nodded. "Yeah it doesn't look good," he replied, "did a bit of work on these back in the repair yard a few years ago. Girlfriend wanted me to get out of it and set up business for myself though. Do custom upgrade jobs on speeders now. Not really the same is it?" He cast a longing look at the train.
The driver grunted, loosing his irritation a bit in the face of a fellow enthusiast. "Well this one won't start, she pulled in alright. Then the engine died."
"I'll take a look if you want," the man said helpfully.
The driver shrugged. "Why not?"

The engineers stood aside at a nod from the driver and the man stepped up the ladder and had a look inside, taking an offered torch. "Sometimes it's just the power couplings," the man observed as he peered in, "the virbrations shake them loose. You'd be amazed how man times we had a train laid up in the yard and it was a quick repair job."
"Can you see anything?" the driver asked.
The man reached down and took a hydrospanner and fiddled about inside then stepped back down the ladder discreetly removing the small system jammer from near the hatch and pocketing it."Turn her over."
One of the engineers stepped back into the cabin and pressed a few buttons. There was a sudden surge of power along the train. The driver smiled in relief. "Hey thanks," he said gratefully.
The man shrugged waiving away all praise, "Happy to help."
As the engineers closed the maintainance hatch and boarded the train the driver shook the mans hand. "You're welcome to travel in the cabin if you want," he offered generously, "its against the regs but you've pulled us out of a hole."
The man shook his head, "Got some credits to get off someone coming in on the next train," he replied, "but I might take you up on that offer next time you come through."
He watched with a smile as the driver boarded and the train began to leave the station, waving towards the cabin. When it was clear he raised his wrist and spoke into a communicator. "Captain Senth to Marakith control, the target is leaving Kappa Mine on shedule. Please deliver my compliments to the Warlord his invention functioned perfectly." He made sure Macron's jammer was safe in his pocket then strode off to his speeder.


--
SBL Malisane Sadow(Sith)/Ludo Kressh of Naga Sadow [ACC: CL:3]

Knight First Class Envoy (Retired)

The scouting refugee slowly raised his hands, as the rest of the group did at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, Locke watched for any sign from Malisane or Kano for action. If they used their Force powers, it would surely compromise their identities, but they couldn't let the mission end here so quickly either.

"Well, looks like you got us," Malisane started, his voice a little shaky. He looked back and forth warily, and then lunged between the guards, missing both, and they grabbed him and held on tightly as the scout escaped to the side. From his knowledge of Malisane, Locke realized that must have been on purpose, and he got the idea. Taking after Malisane's lead, Locke produced a small knife and charged at the third guard, just as Kano pulled a vibroblade and jabbed it at one of the guards holding Malisane. The guard released his grip, aiming his stun baton at Kano as Malisane began punching at the remaining guard holding him.

That left the third one for Locke. His charge easily missed, as the guard side-stepped. Locke spun, and thought he caught Deliverance shaking her head as the Guardian almost tripped on his own feet. He dived forward, into the chest of the guard, knocking the man's weapon out of his hand before he had a chance to ready it. From there, they began kicking and punching at each other on the ground, until Locke let the man get on top of him. At that point, Locke punched him hard in the head repeatedly, until the man finally collapsed and the Dark Jedi was free to slide himself out from under the passed out hulk.

About the same time, Kano, trying hard to hide his superior Mandalorian training, knocked the second guard to the ground and then sliced his neck. It looked almost by accident, but Locke figured that was intentional. Malisane soon finished with the last guard, finally grappling his throat and snapping his neck.

The three stood up, panting a lot more than they normally would, and Locke could sense by her mild annoyance that Deliverance had bought their ruse. To her, they were just another group of barely-competent hired hands. She nodded. "No time to waste, hurry up! We have to clear that monitoring station."

"Yes boss, " Kano replied, playing the part of the mercenary and purposefully taking the lead, while the rest of the group fell in behind him. Malisane was staying close, with Deliverance on his heels. Locke stayed back with the Ekind and a couple others who had come with, bringing up the rear and watching for trouble.

Monorail monitoring station
Aeotheran jungle

The team of freedom fighters assembled outside the main entrance to the monitoring station. Two commandos knelt, their backs to the wall, on either side of the doorway. Another pair crouched underneath each of the transparisteel windows to the left and right of the others.

Deliverance nodded at the cloaked man to the left of the door without looking directly at his face. The burn victim—Scarface as Etenia had chosen to refer to him—stood and withdrew a small charge from a pouch on his belt, then began fastening it to the door. Deliverance winced when his hood slipped, exposing the full ghastly extent of his injuries.

In her native tongue, Etenia muttered something about human weakness. Nobody had suffered as her people under Urias Orian. These freedom fighters sickened her with their vanity. But now was not the time for that. Etenia’s revenge could wait. She stared at Scarface. A freedom fighter? She knew better. He reeked of the dark side; he had the stench of Bastion about him.

‘Ready,’ Scarface rasped quietly.

‘This is where the fun begins,’ the Mandalorian said and clapped his gauntlets together.

Deliverance snapped her head round to glare at him. ‘We wait for Gavroche’s signal,’ she hissed.

A long minute passed as the team waited for the call from the second team who—if all was going to plan—should right then have been positioning the bomb on the track, at which point they would have only a few minutes before the monitoring sensors picked it up and stopped the passing cargo train.

A green light blinked on Deliverance’s wrist-comlink.

‘Gavroche is in position. Set blasters for stun. Remember, no fatalities—we’re not like them... we're doing this for the people who couldn't be with us today...’ her voice trailed off. After a brief pause, she glanced at Scarface. ‘Verdane, whenever you're all ready. Let’s remind Dlarit why Orian belongs to the people.’

Monorail monitoring station
Aeotheran jungle

Malisane paused, then clicked the device and the door exploded open. Malisane waited until the smoke cleared, then burst inside, seeing a surprised Dlarit soldier on the other side spun around. "Stun," he muttered in annoyance then swung his blaster rifle up smashing into the soldier's face pitching him backwards. Kano followed him shooting another man, blue stunning archs felling him, and then Locke took out another. Deliverance followed giving Malisane a disaproving look then raised her blaster at the remaining two guards. "Alright drop them or the next shot won't be a stun." The guards glanced at each other then complied, their rifles hitting the floor. Deliverance shoved them aside and glanced at the civilian personell in the room as the rest of the V,O.J entered the room. "Alright which of you is in charge?"
A man in a brown overall raised a hand nervously. "I am. Supervisor Dax."
"Shut off the security protocols on the main line," she ordered coldly, "and quickly."
He blanched. "I can't do that maam," he replied.
Malisane strode forward and gripped the man around the throat with one armoured fist. "Can't, or won't?"
"You don't know what you're asking," the man gasped, "the train!"
"One freight train is hardly a concern compared with your life," Deliverance replied.
"Freight?" the man replied nervously, "it's not..." before Malisane quickly twisted, before the secret was given up. The guards made a quick move for their blasters before Locke and Kano shot them down, no longer on stun.
Deliverance spun furiously as Malisane dropped the man's corpse. "That was unessesary."
"He was arguing," Malisane replied, "we don't have the time. I can overide the protocols. Move!" he ordered one of the other Dlarit staff shoving him from his chair then leaned over the terminal, "spent a few weeks in one of these stations I've seen enough during drills." He clicked a few buttons, as Kano and Locke covered the remaining crew. Deliverance watched, still seething as the Battlelord's hands moved over the controls. "There."
She nodded raising her communicator. "Gavroche, you're clear to go."

The track near Seng Karash.
Aeotheran.

Gavroche moved quickly, placing the device on the track and activating it. "Alright, get clear!" he snapped briskly as he and the others turned and ran, scrambling down the access steps and across the jungle floor as behind them they heard a distant sound of the crackle and high piitched hum as the train moved over the tracks. After a few hundred feet Meltret the zabrak hit the ground first as they took cover behind a tree, Gavroche and Kelena following. The little man looked up as the lights approached. "Now we ought to see something."
"If your friend's device works," Kelena added ominously.
"It will work." Gavroche said confidently as the train approached.
Melret studied it, raising his field glasses to his eyes and focusing in on the train. Then he gasped. "Gavroche stop it, now!"
The little man's smile disappeared as he turned to the zabrak. "What?"
Melret leapt to his feet. "The damn device, deactivate it now!" he was shouting.
"The hell?" Gavroche demanded as Kelena also rose up quickly. Gavroche pushed himself up.
"It's not a karking freight train!" the zabrak shouted again thrusting the glasses into the little man's hand.
Gavroche raised the glasses to his eyes in trembling hands, a terrible realisation filling him. He focused on the train approaching, seeing the lights from the windows all along which illuminated passengers, sat back in their seats calmly waiting for their return to the city. Hundreds of unsuspecting people. He dropped the glasses as his hands went limp.
"Deactivate the device Gavroche!" Kelena shouted now, shaking him.
"It's not remote controlled," Gavroche replied weakly. It was all he could say.

They watched helplessley as the first carriage reached the point in the track, and almost disintergrated as an explosion rocked the area sending debris scattering through the air and a shockwave that pitched the three of them from their feet clasping their ears. The track buckled and collasped as the carriages behind left the track, pushed on by momentum driving downwards crashing through trees and plantlife, faint screams rising above the terrible tearing noise of metal and collapsing trees, followed by further explosions as their electric systems were ripped apart on the undergrowth.
Gavroche and the others raised their eyes helplessly as the carriages continued their terrible journey along the floor, several bouncing as flames licked at the insides, sending bodies smashing through the windows to hit the floor hard or be crushed under falling trees. Then as the three got to their feet there was a terrible silence, only spoilt by the sound of burning plantlife and screams emerging from the burning carriages as the initial survivors fought to escape. Meltret pitched forward onto his knees, vomitting everything he had in his stomach before lying dry heaving on the floor as Gavroche and Kelena continued to watch, the smell of burning metal and wood and flesh filling their senses and the air full of death.

Gavroche's communicator burst into life, Deliverance's voice bringing them to their senses. "Come in Gavroche, report your situation."
The little man could not tear his eyes away from the death around him. "It's gone wrong," he croaked hoarsely, tears in his eyes, "it's gone horribly wrong."

Commercial and Leisure District
Warehouse 13

Tsainetomo entered the warehouse, heeding ‘that li’l voice’ inside him that told him that searching for his cousin the Consul amid the filth of Tent City was a mission best left for another day.

Very well that he didn’t.

As he approached Dyrra, the scanners were ablaze with chatter, especially the one keyed into the Emergency Response Units.

…send all available units…civilian casualties…magtrain number...

A quick divination within the Dark Side’s depths told him all he needed to know as waves of concern poured off of the Quaestor. Concern, and something else.

Resignation.

She knew something was afoot; it had to be, as they had key members ensconced within the factions that were striving to tear their planet apart.

As if reading his thoughts, Dyrra’s voice was low as she spoke. “Can’t make an omelet…”

“…without breaking a few eggs,” finished the Korun-Keibatsu. “Well, it begins. What now?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

The red-haired woman whirled, fire in her eyes, command straightening her back.

“You get over there and you roust the place. Bring me the twi’lek before Dlarit Police shows up. I sense things are getting rowdy over there.”

Tsainetomo’s own Force-senses confirmed the same. He grinned, clearly impressed by Dyrra’s new command of the Dark Side. “Manji would be proud,” he said under his breath.

“What was that?!” Every apprentice strove to get out from under their Master’s shadow; Dyrra was no different, even though the Consul’s shade spread far and wide.

“I said, ‘things might get loud’,” Sai lied, the cover-up saving face for the both of them. Dyrra flashed a knowing smile. “Just get over there…and try not to burn the place down. The others should follow your lead. Confirm that intel you sent me.”

Tsainetomo was already out the door.

The Blue Hutt

The Sadowans had anyone beat as far as state of the art listening equipment went, but the Blue Hutt denizens more than made up for it in ingenuity. They had, over months, cobbled together out of date equipment, but the miners and ‘revolutionaries’ had pooled their collective resources and had their own ‘ears to the ground’, albeit outdated ones.

By the time the first Emergency Response Units had been dispatched to the scene of the train disaster, everyone in the know knew what happened. They had been talking. Discussing.

And a great many of them were drunk.

So drunk that, when Lady Chessene had stopped her set prematurely to have a conversation off-stage, and hadn’t returned, the patrons were, as Dyrra so delicately put it, getting quiet rowdy. One burly miner had broken a bottle of Corellian whisky and had its jagged edge against a Dlarit employees throat, ready to lay it open as if the claret gout that would issue could atone for the deaths of the innocent.

The Sadowans who were posted around the bar sat patiently, steeled and ready for action.

Voices became raised. Tempers flared. The Dlarit employee whose throat was in danger had a friend. That friend had a comlink.

That friend also, very purposefully and very loudly, called in for the Dlarit police to come.

It was right about then that Tsainetomo walked in.

Chaos erupted.

In the history of barfights, the first blows thrown would be logged in as the precursor to the mother of all barfights…

…Sai whirled his hilt (unlit, of course) as the baton it was designed to be and began cracking skulls and joints, smiling all the while, and making his way towards the refreshers and the secret door beyond…

…Macron began throwing tables - tables! - and his trademark giggle began lilting from his throat…

…Araxis jumped off of the bar headlong into three miners, admirably taking a punch to the jaw and shrugging it off…

…Sarconn ducked a wild haymaker and punched the man who threw it in the gut, causing the drunkard to vomit…

…Kalei delivered a well-timed kick to the back of another miner, who careened headlong into his girlfriend…

…and all this was in the first fourty-five seconds of the Son of Sadow stepping through the threshold.

C.A.R.E Campaign Headquarters
Commerical and Leisure District
Seng Karash

The chair flew across the room, one of the metal legs buckling and bending as it smashed against the wall of the tiny prep room. The sound of the crashing chair mixed with the data pad as it followed the state of the chair, ending up in tiny pieces scattered around the chair on the floor. Soolan watched the pieces as they spun on the ground, memorised by their movement and the anger behind their destruction. Jade gave her a look then lifted her sunglasses and stepped up placing a hand on Dastari’s shoulder. He spun around, ready to kill whoever it was that tried to stop him, but staring into the violet eyes took him off guard. Jade had never removed her glasses in front of him before, it made him pause.

“It’s a terrible loss Van Dastari, there are obvious radicals trying to make a statement against everything you stand for.” Her eyes flashed a deep soulless black for a moment as the voices pounded in her mind. He isn’t worth it...why are you spending time on him?...there are bigger things you and your Clan should worry about! The screams soon followed and she did her best to press them to the back of her mind.

Van Dastari nodded slowly. “A terrible loss...”the words slow, Soolan noticed he seemed hypnotised, she figured Jade must have been using her tricks to get the man to calm down enough to talk to them. He was still angry and blamed them for their happenings with the last broadcast he had done.

Jade motioned to Soolan with her other hand at her hip not taking her eyes off of Dastari. Soolan took a step closer. “Perhaps you should make another broadcast.”

Van Dastari turned around on his heels and stared at Soolan. “You have some nerve suggesting such an action to me after the last time!”

Jade had replaced her sunglasses as Dastari had turned around and lean up against the wall. “She is right.” He turned to look at her. “You should make a sympathy broadcast. Show them how you feel, give them your condolences.”

Dastari opened his mouth as if to object then rubbed his chin nodding. “hmmm, you could be right.” He looked at the woman, wondering why she had her sunglasses on and why he remembered seeing black soulless eyes, when he must have only dreamed them.

Soolan nodded. “I can get the press in here in about an hour.”

Van nodded to her as he walked out the prep room and headed out of the office, “Make it happen.”

Jade smiled at Soolan who grinned back and moved to make the arrangements.

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Dastari looked out among the cameras and the reporters as he stood at the podium. Jade had told him it would be better if he didn’t use the podium, make him seem more personal without the block in front of him, but he didn’t quite trust the women since his last broad cast. But now, as he stood in front of the reporters and saw them shifting and coughing as she spoke he agreed with her. Stepping out from behind the stand he saw a few of the reports take him more seriously and actually look at him and not the podium or the floor wondering why they were bothering with yet another speech. “Thank you for coming today; After hearing the devastating news of the train accident I wanted, no needed, to express my condolences to the victims, the families and friends of those who were on the train.” He turned to one camera and placed a hand over his heart. “This is a terrible loss and one that is felt by the entire community.” He turned his attention back to the reporters, “The members of Dlarit need to listen and pay attention now, we cannot continue to have incidences that affect the lives of everyone. The way to sort this out is through peaceful protest and people coming together to talk things out. Needless blood does not need to be shed!” He took a breath and turned back to the camera. “I appreciate that the V.O.J. have feelings on this matter and wish to make those feelings known, but their methods are wrong. I implore negotiations and peaceful talks.” He turned and gave a slight bow of his head to the reporters. “My thoughts and wishes are with those affected by this train crash, may you have warm memories and strong spirits.” Van Dastari smiled as he moved away from the sights of the camera and shook Jade and Soolans hand as he entered the prep room, the two women watching the live broadcast in the room.

Commercial and Leisure District
Blue Hutt

The drunkard went down, and it seemed that another one took his place swinging at Sarconn. It was too bad for him that he wasn’t skilled in any forms of hand-to-hand combat. His punch almost seemed halfhearted as it came at the Miraluka, but was stopped in Sarconn’s open hand. The drunk mans face showed his shock at the strength of the apprentice, then to fear as he saw the Krath’s smile. Sarconn threw a punch at full strength at the mans ribs, cracking them, and he turned his back to him and, using the arm he still held onto, threw him over his head onto the Blue Hutt’s floor. Sarconn then brought his heel down on the man’s head, knocking him out.

The Protector had just a second to recover before two men rushed him, Sarconn chuckled as he saw them coming and then dashed at them. The men saw him coming but only one seemed to hesitate a little as he slowed down, allowing Sarconn to reach them one at a time. The first man Sarconn ran into was put down easily with a powerful clothesline, which made Sarconn not have to slow down at all for his friend. The man, seeing that his partner isn’t getting back up, tried to turn around to run away from the Krath, unfortunately for him, Sarconn was faster and caught up to him. Grabbing ahold of the man’s collar to stop him, Sarconn hooked his leg around this drunkards, making them both falling to the ground. The man struggled to get free, but only succeeded in turning over onto his back looking right into Srconn’s grinning face. Sarconn the pulled back his fist and started to hammer his punches into the mans face, over and over again, untill he stopped moving.

After he stopped bashing the mans face in, Sarconn looked up and gazed around the bar. The young Protector couldn’t see anybody he recognized, just the chaos that as happening all around him. Sarconn loved every single bit of it, loved fighting these people, if for nothing else then to just practice.

Monorail monitoring station
Somewhere in the jungle
Aeotheran

Deliverance had not said a word since her heated exchange with Gavroche. That was now an hour ago. Etenia, the burned one—Scarface—who claimed his name was Verdane but who Etenia was sure was in fact someone else, the Mandalorian, and the others had all left the control room and headed outside to keep an eye on the hostages who were now gagged and handcuffed to the wire fence that formed a perimeter around the small jungle outpost.

Even this far out, through the treetops Etenia could make out the black cloud rising from the monorail wreck in the distance as it passed overhead. As if on cue, the storm clouds that had befallen the tent city before the commando team left for the monorail swept in, the freezing winds bringing with them the malodour of overcooked meat. They had all seen it on the monitor cameras inside the station, but one was never ready for the smell of death.

At least, humans were never ready. One of the refugees hunched over and vomited.

Etenia merely shook her head. Death was nothing new to her. It was nothing new to any of them; all these people had lost everything to the Yuuzhan Vong—just like she had lost everything to the Sith sorcerers who had enslaved her people five millennia ago...

Until, finally, Orian’s heir incinerated the Cursed in dark fire three years ago. Except Etenia. Queen Hafalia had spared her and her tribe alone. Now it was time for revenge.

Etenia stared at Scarface—or whatever his name really was. He was no refugee. He was Sith.

And on that thought, Deliverance appeared in the entrance to the monitoring station, her face expressionless, but her eyes bearing the price of all the lives her actions were responsible for. The Voice of Justice’s leader stepped out, casting her eyes across the captive hostages. She let out an exhausted sigh.

‘Take their weapons... then let them go...’ Deliverance said, staring into the face of one of the terrified men chained to a fence post as he mumbled something inaudible. ‘We’re... we’re done here...’ she finished, tearing off the gag before casting it on the dirt.

‘Monster!’ the man cried, spitting in her face. Deliverance didn’t react, and just turned and started to walk away. The other members of the assault team followed, leaving the monitoring team to untie each other; it would buy the refugees more time to get away—not that the staff would be calling anybody anytime soon after what Deliverance did to the controls.

‘What’s the plan?’ Scarface asked when they reached the landspeeder.

Deliverance didn’t answer right away but just continued staring off into the distance. After a minute, she appeared to pull herself together and turned back to the team, her expression hardening. ‘We need to pick a new rallying point to regroup with the other team. I can’t go back to the camp. They’ll know my face.’

The Mandalorian nodded. ‘Dlarit will want blood, yeah. I’ve got an idea. There’s an abandoned mine not far off we can use.’

Deliverance nodded. ‘That works.’ After another brief silence, she continued, ‘I don’t know how this happened. Gavroche...’

Scarface stepped forward. ‘We can worry about debriefing Gavroche at the rendezvous. Let’s just get out of here.’ He put a hand on the side of the landspeeder and leapt up into the driver’s seat.

The Mandalorian remained where he was. ‘It might be better if we go it on foot. Dlarit will have police gunships in the air inside the hour—if they aren’t already. The mine’s not far. If we start now, we can make it there before daybreak.’

Silence filled the next hour as the group trekked through the jungle. Unlike in the wilds to the north like the Nifokalija Mountains, there were fewer predators this near the main hub of the planet wide mining network. The main holdup was the terrain itself—beskar armour had not been built with mud and mosquitoes in mind; for all its ability to withstand a lightsaber, the Mandalorian fidgeted as insects crawled up his leg and in through the small gaps around his crotch and shoulder joints. Given he was the one who knew where this mine supposedly was, he had taken point, so everyone else was forced to amble along every time he stopped to remove a particularly nasty leech.

Scarface followed the group at a cautious distance.

Etenia could sense he knew she was onto him. Slowing to little more than a crawl herself, she let some distance grow between her and the rest of the team—Scarface copying her by remaining behind at all times. Deliverance was too caught up in her own grief right now to pay the pair any notice, and the Mandalorian was too far ahead to see either Etenia or Scarface through the trees.

Eventually, Etenia stopped and turned around to find Scarface only five feet away.

‘Who are you?’ Verdane growled without prompting. ‘You’re no refugee.’

Etenia met his eyes but did not answer.

‘You shouldn’t even exist,’ the burn victim said. ‘All the Ekind died.’

Etenia gave a grin, though it contained no warmth. ‘That my people did. And yet here I am.’

‘How?’

‘How the rightful rulers of Sepros regained their immortality is never for you to know. All that matters is that we have. And that we will have revenge on you and every other Sith.’ The violet skinned Ekind unsheathed the jewel encrusted rapier hanging from her belt. ‘You are a long way from your home, Burned One. And you don’t have your precious lightsaber.’ She let out a laugh that sounded more like a serpent’s siss. ‘Defend yourself.’

Commercial District
Blue Hutt

For all the damage that had been done inside the place, it was still recognizable as a drinking hole.

Barely.

The patrons, who in any other joint in any other galaxy would’ve taken care of any corporate-types who wanted to start trouble, were all to a man trembling and moaning in drunken agony on the filthy, liquor and blood-slicked floor of the Hutt. The trauma they all carried would be spoken of in Seng Karash emergency rooms for months to come.

The Dlarit employees were none worse for wear, thanks mostly to the Sadowans who lived for this sort of thing. They were busy giving statements to the Dlarit Police about who started what, and the like. The Sadowans did very well, considering their circumstances; no one foolishly pulled a lightsaber, and their Dark Side usage was kept to a bare minimum. They had taken their share of lumps as to not look too suspicious.

Tsainetomo had taken up station at the short hallway leading to the refreshers, as to prevent any escape by those whose interests lay elsewhere other than trying to avoid a fight. Those poor souls were heaped at his feet, contusions and lumps about their heads, some with limbs twisted unnaturally. For his part, he was proud of all the young Sadowans there; they held back as much as he did, and no one died under their blows.

The Korun-Keibatsu lit a tabac cigarra and let its bluish-gray smoke pool about his head as he savored its aroma. Stuffing his baton-like lightsaber hilt into his belt, he regarded the script it bore.

…and I shall strike down with great vengeance and furious anger…

Another pull of the cigarra allowed him to calm himself. He’d need to be calm for the next delicate task. He sidled up to the bar, stepping over a moaning miner, and grabbed a bottle of Corellian whisky. Uncorking it, he called out, seemingly to no one in particular.

“Lady ‘C’, it seems we’ve a conversation to finish.”

The twi’lek emerged from behind the bar – rather, she arose from beneath it, visibly shaken. Tsainetomo motioned for her to step out, and she did so upon unsteady legs.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you; I just need you to open that door.”

She stood stock still, voice trembling as she responded. “Wh-what door?”

Tsainetomo merely pulled on his cigarra as he raised one eyebrow. All remnants of her resistance fell away in the wake of that singular gesture.

“Oh, you mean that door.”

Stepping lively, she walked Sai back past the refreshers to the door he espied earlier that evening. Her hands deftly manipulated the locks and the door opened with a whoosh of cool, clean air.

Tsainetomo peered down the dimly lit corridor the door revealed, extending his ethereal senses. He inhaled deeply, and turned to Chessene. “That leads to the outside, I presume,” he said, making more of a statement than asking a question. And that palette over there might have some interest for one of our friends over there.”

Before she could utter a word of protest, Tsainetomo gave a short whistle and a Dlarit Police Officer trotted over, datapad in hand. The Epis nodded towards a palette bearing unmarked packages just inside the entrance to the corridor, and the officer obediently began to investigate.

He barked out the name of some drug; Tsainetomo cared not for the name, just for Chessene’s reaction.

If a twi’lek could blanch, that’s just what Lady Chessene did. Sai didn’t think her eyes could gape any wider.

The officer placed binders on her hands and began reading her rights, informing her that she was under arrest for drug trafficking. He began to lead her out, but not before Sai leaned in close to his ear.

“Officer, Sylvyn, is it?” Sai’s voice was silky as he spoke to the human. “Very soon, a redhead is coming to see you down at the police station. Please,” Sai continued while slipping a rather hefty wad of credits into his breast pocket, “afford her every courtesy.”

Officer Sylvyn merely nodded and continued to usher the downcast Chessene towards the door.

Tsainetomo took one last look down the corridor before activating the small comlink hidden inside his coat’s cuff.

“Dyrra, whatever it is you’re doing, I suggest you leave it for now. You’ll want to take a trip shortly.”

Dyrra’s question came back unintelligible to all but Sai. His response was filled with amusement. “A place you’re very familiar with, if memory serves: Dlarit Police Headquarters. I’ll brief you on the way.”

Roxas burst through the entrance almost stumbling on the poor fools in the floor.

"Damn it! Why do I always miss all the fun?"

After seeing that the fighting had subsided for the moment Roxas went around the bar and took a bottle of whiskey from the shelf.

"No bar tender means free drinks."

a group of punks entered and suspecting Roxas the culpret for their comrades laying on the floor fired a blaster and shot the bottle from Roxas's hand. He calmly stood up and turned around with a demented smile on his face.

"I love skum, no matter what you do to them your conceince never bothers you."

In the mood for a little fun Roxas toyed with the punks by shooting one's trigger finger off. They started screaming and blasting everything in sight trying to shoot him. Roxas just laughed at their pathetic attempts to shoot him. After awhile he got bored and pulled his armory saber and dispatched of them in a slow and painful manner. Afew of them took off running trying to escape.

"I hate cowards. Dont they know that they are going to die anyway, why dont the just stay and fight so they day like warriors?"

Roxas chaised them down, they eventually got cornered, "Why are you doing this?" the asked. "Cuz you destroyed my whiskey", Roxas replied. Right after saying that he heard sirens, so he silently killed them and left the area as to not attract attention.

"I need to stop playing around and try to find everyone, so I can get in on the action."

Roxas approached his speeder and turned on the tracking device that shows where all his allies are.

"Hmm... lets see... man I have a long way to go to catch up to everyone. I guess I need to get in gear then."

Roxas jumped on his speeder and took off at high speed in search of his comrades.

The Aeotheran Jungle

A twisted smile appeared on the Battlelord's burned features. "Foolish."
She paused. "What did you say?"
"We had no idea any of you remained," he said simply, "and you reveal your existance in a moment of revenge lust. My Overlord will be greatly interested to hear of the news."
"You will never live to reveal it Sith!" she snarled and lunged forward. Malisane calmly raised a hand and struck out with her with the force, smashing her backwards with a powerful telekenetic strike. She hit the ground hard and rolled, She glanced up to see the Sith approaching her and she pushed herself to her feet, sword in front of her. Malisane raised a hand and attacked again, aiming a powerful force blast at her, waves of dark energy hitting the Ekind and she sagged, gritting her teeth and fighting to stay on her feet. The dark eyes of the Battlelord burned into her as she planted her feet firmly on the ground.

"You cannot win," he told her in his hoarse voice, "you are foolish to resist. Surrender."
"And what?" she demanded. "I will be treated well?"
"No I will arrange a transport back to Sepros where you will tell us everything. Depending on your cooperation you may live however. It does not take bravery to die, death is a cowards option."
"I would rather die than betray the Ekind," she snarled.
"As you wish," He stood watching as she surged at him again, the Sith sword arching towards him, then struck out once more with the force, heartstunning her and driving her to her knees gasping helplessley. He walked calmly over to her and reached down, taking the Sith sword firmly in his armoured grip from her unresisting hand.

He placed the sword blade at her neck. "You have chosen death. I will grant it. Reveal the whereabouts of the other Ekind and it will be quick."
"Go to hell!" she said staring up at him.
Malisane nodded, then glanced at the Sith sword. It was a valuable weapon but outdated by the advent of the light saber, and he had no need for it. He cast his arm back and flung it into the jungle where it spun away to land some distance away. He looked back down at the Ekind, then attacked her with the force, silencing her vocal cords with telekinesis then sending waves of agony through her. She twitched in pain, trying to resist, before he body began to convulse violently as Malisane calmly increased the agony surging through her and she tried to cry out, her mouth silently opening and closing. FInally she went into cardiac shock and her heart gave out, an explosion in her chest before suddenly peace and tranquility.
Malisane regarded the corpse in disgust before lifting it in his powerful arms and dumping it behind a bush. Finally he turned and walked back to the others.

The Aeotheran Jungle


Kano could feel what was happening at the back of the line and was sure that Locke could too. Malisane's presence could be felt more easily as he tapped into the Force and the sudden number of lifeforms felt in close area dropped by one. The Mandalorian had no idea what had happened or if it was for the better or worse.

Another bug crawled up into the leg of Kano's flight suit and the sudden sting caused him to stop to swat the area. The bugs insides stuck to the Mandalorian's skin and caused him to talk to himself in the sealed off helmet.

"Next time I come back to this gorram planet I gotta remember to use the sealed flightsuit."

Malisane had begun to calm down and just ahead Kano say the opening he was looking for. Several empty durasteel barrels littered the area and just beyond then was a rusted building containing the entrance to the abandoned mine.

Several people let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the building, Deliverance on the other hand still kept to her self as Kano allowed his voice to exit his helmet.

"We should be good here as long as we need. I have been crashing here since I got stuck on this shabla planet."

Nobody really said much as they found places to sit and try not to think about what had just happened. Kano took a seat on a rusted barrel and leaned back against a wall to make it look like he was going to doze off. Inside his helmet the Mandalorian was fast at work getting news updates on what was going on and also reading a message he had been sent from a member of the Raptors. After hearing the message Kano decided it would be better if the man joined up with them as soon as the timing was right. Kano activated the helmets secure comm and sent a transmission directly to Quo.

"Your current location wont be of use like we had original believed. Abandon the post and outfit yourself with some ratty looking clothing. Be ready to join up as soon as an opportunity shows itself."

Tent City, Seng Karash
Aeotheran

"Storm's a brewing, mesa be making dinner if yousa be wanting some." Rayfor spoke openly with his blind companion, the two had been rather close over the last several hours but the blind man had been more of a listener than a talker for the day. Methyas sat quietly, his mind preoccupied as he started to extend himself through the Force; more of an outward expansion of his area of focus than an outward display of Force that most people related to Dark Jedi.

It was distracting, so many people packed in such a small area. Each of them with their own thoughts and problems, their emotions seeping into the white current and finding their way to the young Knight. So much anger, if only there were a way to keep oneself protected from the outside...it made one want to just hide themselves if they could. A clatter awoke the Miraluka from his meditation, as he turned to figure out what the Gungan had fumbled with before he heard the Gungan Basic stumble from his lips, "Wha...You...Yousa start to disappear!"
The Knight's mind raced as his grip quietly tightened around his Shikomizue, his voice rising up candidly, "What are you talking about Rayfor? I've been here the entire time."

"Starting to disappear? Jedi can't just up and disappear! I've read of these people though...Fallanassi? They could immerse themselves in the Force and..." His racing thoughts were interrupted as the Gungan rubbed his eyes and spoke up again, "Mesa fairly sure, but this steam could be playing tricks."
As the Gungan finished the Miraluka's grip started to loosen, his thoughts going back to what he had just done, "Could that have been the Meditation of Immersion?"
His thoughts didn't go very far before the Gungan spoke again, "But yousa is definately bombad different than the others, mesa be keeping an eye okeeday?"

With a reluctant sigh, Methyas responded, "Hey Rayfor, is dinner ready yet?"
The Gungan responded with a curt '"No" before Methyas rose and placed his weight on his Shikomizue, "I'll be back in a bit then, going to go for a walk. I'll remember my way back here."
The Gungan looked at him for a moment before he continued his preparation, the Miraluka starting away with his mind tugging at ways he could convince Rayfor to ignore him while he could figure out other things.
"Maybe I could try to meditate my way through a guarded area? No, I don't even know how I did that yet...what would the Fallanassi do? I wish I could remember those records better..."

As he walked awkwardly into the midst of a busy section of the "streets" a sudden explosion was heard on the outskirts, apparently things were going south for his Clanmates, with a sigh he moved as quickly as he could to a darkened area of the makeshift city near the supporting walls of Seng Karash, sliding his earpiece into his ear and starting it up to listen to the nearby chatter. Apparently a monorail train full of civilians had just been destroyed, reports seemed to indicate it was a faction known as the "Voice of Justice". Shaking his head and pocketing his earpiece the Knight had a decision to make: stay in Tent City and calm the residents or look for a more in-depth means of helping these people.

Hearing the explosion Roxas smiled knowing he was now close to his allies. He quickly became eager for the fight. He decided to no longer play it safe and hit a button exposing extra boosters on his speeder bike.

"I havent tested these out, but im ready for some action." he said as the speeder started taking off at extreme speeds.

After a few short minutes Roxas noticed he was now in communication range with the others of the clan and listened excitedly. hoping that the opportunity would arise so that he can enjoy some action.

Warehouse 13

Dyrra couldn't hide a grin as she shut off her comlink and practically skipped out of the room that contained a hastily cobbled together recording studio. The D-SOG troops around her were professional to a fault and not one of them cracked the slightest of smiles as she began to whistle a jolly little tune.

That man has the most impeccable sense of timing of anyone I have ever known.

In her haste to escape, she brushed past a Rodian. He turned and stared after her, chattering excitedly in Huttese and gesturing to the camera in his hands and the folds of cloth over one shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Bolo, this requires my immediate attention. So I'm afraid I can't make any statements at all. Perhaps you could try to find Raistlin instead? And I'd never have worn that anyway. I said no pink."

Bolo looked about as unimpressed as it was possible for a Rodian to look. Or at least, Dyrra thought she did. He was a decorated D-SOG trooper, but he was getting way too much pleasure out of the idea of being her temporary stylist for these ridiculous statements. She made a mental note to murder Manji brutally in his sleep for making her do them.

"I don't care if you think I've got the colouring for it. The answer is no. And like I said, find someone else to make the statement. You never know, the pink might suit Raistlin better."

The trooper guarding the door turned his spluttered laughter into a coughing fit with admirable speed. Bolo objected once more, pointing out none of them had heard from the Aedile in a little while.

"Well, get one of our good-for-nothing employees to do it. What do we pay them for if they won't lie convincingly to the entire Holonet for us?"

Bolo's protests were silenced abruptly as the warehouse door slipped shut behind her. Dyrra sighed in relief and set off walking, relieved to be out of the clutches of the mad assassin-turned-fashionista.

The Aeotheran Jungle
The V.O.J's top secret hideout cave

The cave was dark inside when they arrived, and Malisane looked curiously inside. "Nice, homely." He had slipped back into the gruff ex soldier persona.
Deliverance gave him a hard look. "Save the jokes Verdane," she replied coldly, "after what just happened no one feels like laughing."
"Welcome boss," Gavroche said from behind them, he Melret and Kelina stepping up from the bushes across the clearing.
She turned around. "Why aren't you inside?"
He shrugged. "We wanted to see who would arrive to find us." His words carried a wealth of meaning.
Kano stepped forward. "What does that mean?"
Melret the zabrak stood at Gavroche's shoulder. "Someone sold us out," he said, looking at the three newcomers in turn, "the trains got switched."
"Don't be ridiculous," Malisane replied, "it was just a cockup. Sometimes drek happens. Maybe there was a delay on the line, maybe there was a problem with a train? We got unlucky.="
"Unlucky?" Kelina repeated her voice furious, "two hundred deaths and we got unlucky?"
"Yeah," Malisane snarled, "sometimes the best laid plans go wrong and people die or get hurt. You're living in the real world. What did you people think? You capture a few diplomats, you blow up a few unmaned trains, you close down a few mines, no one gets hurt at all and in in a week Dlarit caves in and you get carried out of Tent City and through through the gates of Seng Karash on the adoring crowd's shoulders with flowers being thrown in your path? It doesn't work that way. If you want freedom and justice you have to be in for the long haul and sometimes it isn't pretty. It went wrong and people died. Live with it!"
"That's enough Verdane remember who is in charge here!" Deliverance snapped, She calmed a little. "We've all had a long day. No one ought to have followed us but we'll post sentries. Verdane, Locke, you soldier boys are up first. The rest of you there's food, drink and blankets in the cave. We can get a message to our people at the HQ and get some reinforcements. Move out."

Malisane watched them go inside with a quick nod at Kano, then slung his rifle over his shoulder and he and Locke walked away from the cave entrance to take sentry duty.
Locke looked out into the jungle. "What was that speech about back there?" the Guardian asked.
"We need to keep them focused," the Battlelord replied, "it's not over yet. Today went well but we need to keep them going. I don't want to spend the next month with these scum. We want them back on another mission in the next few days. That means giving them a few home truths to think over."
"We could kill them now," Locke replied, "there's only six of them with the scout run off."
"Dead," Malisane corrected meaningfully.
"Dead then, but we can take them easily."
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," Malisane replied coldly, "but others would take their place and we'd have to start again. We need to let this boil grow before we lance it. By the time we've finished anyone who suggests rising up against Dlarit will be strung up in the park by their own people."
Locke grinned. "If that happens I want to be in the front row watching."


Near the monitoring station
Aeotheran

Police Sergeant Goldus waited outside as his men searched the inside. He looked up as his corporal exited the buiding and came over. "Someone hit this place hard," he observed, "mixture of dead and stunned people inside. We've done the best we can for the survivor's but they need medical care."
"We need them to talk," Goldus replied, "whoever hit this place killed two hundred passengers, and we need to know where they went."
"Yes sarge." Both NCO's turned as the private near the shuttle called them over.
"What is it private?" Goldus asked.
"Picking up somehting unusual nearby," the private replied, "something's approaching."
"What sort of something?" the corporal asked.
"The sensors are having problem's identifying it."
"There's a thousand different species out there," Goldus replied. "We'll check it out. Get the rest of the squad out of the building."

The squad moved out, in a rough line, guided by the private and his scanner. "It's close."
"How close?" the sergeant asked.
In reply a private screamed as something heavy hit him, bearing him down and raking down his body with claws. The rest of the squad raised their rifles and fired as it leapt at another soldier, teeth ripping into his throat. They backed off as the creature ignored the blaster bolts hitting it and dragged down a third officer then bounded up high into the treetops.
"Kill it!" Goldus ordered as they turned and fired into the trees, sending sparks and burning branches down around them. The creature leapt back down, catching the corporal around his waist and tearing out his insides before throwing him at another private sending them turmbling to the ground. Goldus hardly had time to react before it was on him, it's clawed hands pressing to his temples as agony and images flashed through his head. Then it ripped out his jugular with one flash of it's claws. The remaining private under the corpse of the corporal struggled desperaltey as it padded over. Then he felt the body lifted free before a death descended on him.
The creature sniffed the area before padding off into the trees.

Roxas arrived at the cave and his speeder after being at such high speeds for a long period of time fell apart with a loud thud.
"Sorry I'm late master Kano, I'm ready to follow any order you give."

So Roxas did as ordered and took a sentry position around 100 yards in front of the cave, to give advanced warning of an enemy attack.
"Finally, maybe now i'll get to see some action." Roxas said to himself prepaired for any thing.

Tent City, Seng Karash
Aeotheran

The scent of the mildly-spiced stew wafted upwards into Manji's nostrils, the aroma of unidentifiable meat wrinkling his features in a slight sneer of disgust. He sat hunched over a long, low table surrounded by other refugees, each cradling their own bowl of stew and scoffing it down as though it was the last meal they'd see- which for some of them, might have been the case. Manji's features smoothed in acceptance and he grabbed the bowl, scoffing the stew down in a few gulps. The warmth was welcoming, even if the taste was toe-curlingly bad.

Wiping his mouth clean, the Consul reached outwards with the Force casually, expanding his hearing. He could hear the conversations of every other group in this makeshift soup kitchen with ease; children squabbling with their parents, couples bickering over their circumstances, and a few individuals who simply sat silently, locked into their own private hells. Then, sifting through the multitude of voices, the disguised Pontifex heard something odd.

"...clear, right? Warehouse 5-C at 2300 hours?"

Manji stiffened, concentrating on the gruff voice and the other, slightly higher-pitched voice responding to it.

"...sure that destroying the food supplies will make Dlarit unpopular?"

The first voice snapped a response, sounding exasperated.

"We've gone over this! The people will think Dlarit destroyed the supplies and they'll riot, idiot!"

Manji turned his concentration away from the conversation and got to his feet, gathering the voluminous layers of dusty sackcloth around him as he shuffled away from the table and out of the soup kitchen, ignoring the few uncaring glances thrown his way. He didn't need to hear any more; whether the two conspirators were aligned with the Voice of Justice or not, they were planning to spark some serious riots over food supplies. Dlarit, and the Sadowans, didn't need another problem to deal with.

Hiding his face deep in the folds of his hood, the Consul grinned wickedly at the prospect of violence ahead.

The Aeotheran Jungle

It had been a while since the Battlemaster had any contact with either the Clan or the Dlarit
Corperation, he choose his life of exile. He choose for it because he couldn't live waiting
for him to arrive and devour all he knew. No, he had to search for power, for answers
and he knew he would someday find them. He already had a Vong shaper work on him in
exchange of her life. The memories of the shaping filled Ylith's mind with pain and disgust
but while it was not an easy choice, it was one he needed to make.

He moved through the jungle, aware that his past had no meaning other than to fight the
three suns burning in his mind. No other meaning than to destroy the sword woven in flame
that scorched his very spirit. In result the Scorpion had betrayed friend and family in order to
get his vengeance, yet the visions still plague him. More severe after seeing him, floating in
a tube, alive, breathing, living, feasting off of the minds of those around him, a void in the Force.

Suddenly his mind was brought back to the present by a sharp pain tearing into his face, neck
and chest. The living Vong 'device' that the shaper attached to him made Ylith able to block
out all emotions, allowing him to cope with the images, with the anger, with the fear.

He moved his hood over his head, concealing the Vong shaping, as he wandered into a small
village, set up by the Dlarit Company for the miners that worked in the Jungle. He had to move
back to the Clan, he had to prove he was still out there, he had to prove he had seen him.
His obsession drove him forward, into the village, in search of answers and power.

The Cave
Aeotheran

Melret leaned back against the tree, his rifle down by his side. The zabrak yawned. "This is stupid."
Kelena looked over. "What is?"
"No-ones following us. Why are we stood out here. I could use some sleep."
"Gavroche and that Mando are going to relieve us in an hour," she replied, "just stay sharp. Gavroche said he was cooking some stew and he'd leave some warm for us."
"Terrific," Melret replied. He shivered. "Still can't believe what we did. All those people."
She sighed and turned away to look into the trees. "Everyone feels the same," she replied, "but maybe Veldane's right. We're doing what we have to do. Yes all those people died, but theres thousands of people in Tent City who will die if we don't make Dlarit listen. Don't you agree?" She paused but there was no response. "Come on Melret." She turned back but he wasn't there. Where had he gone? She walked over and gasped when she saw his torn, bloody corpse. Then agony surged through her as claws ripped through her back into her lungs, and she fell to the floor blood pouring from her mouth.

"Almost ready," Gavroche said, trying to make his voice seem cheerful despite the mood around him. He stirred the stew that was simmering over the fire and took a taste.
Deliverance was sat with the four Sadow's looking at a holographic map she'd broadcast from a projector from her pack. "If this is what you mean It's here," she said pointing, "Generator Two."
Malisane frowned. He knew it of course. It was the large power station a mile from the city that provided power across the mining network and to the monorail lines, seperate from Generator One under the city that provided power to Seng Karash, though they provided a backup service to each other. "It's a big target."
"I'm not suggesting blowing it up," Kano replied quietly, "but we can get in. Shut it down and knock out power across the grid. The mines, the monorails. Everything goes down."
"It's still too big," Malisane replied. "It will be guarded to hell." In fact he'd already discussed this with Kano, Locke and Roxas and supported the idea but he was playing devil's advocate to get Deliverance to support the idea.
"I don't know sarge," Locke replied, "They won't be expecting an attack so soon after the train, and they ought to have pulled security away from it to protect any more attacks on the line. I think if we're careful we can get in."
"We can't hold it," Malisane argued, "tthey'll send everything they have once they realise."
"So we temporarily disable it and get out," Kano replied, "even shutting down for a few hours will show Dlarit we mean business."
"I agree," Deliverance replied, "we'll do it. Once our people arrive from Tent City with another transport we hit the thing. Gavroche can go online and get us schematics of the place."

"Talking of which supper is ready," Gavroche pointed out. "Get Londas and Veer from outside."
"I'll go," Roxas replied and stood up. He walked towards the cave entrance and stopped as Malisane called over. "Wait!"
Roxas turned as Malisane closed his eyes. Deliverance looked at him curiously. "What?" Kano and Locke were looking at the Battlelord intensely, knowing he sensed something and slowly they also felt something alien. Roxas turned again and suddenly stepped back as Londas and Veer, the two remaining normal V.O.J members came running towards the cave, panic in their faces.
Deliverance and the four clan members leapt for their blasters as Veer screamed as something lithe and grey hit him from behind, claws ripping down his back, and then Londas hit the ground dead with blood leaking from his side. They could make out the creatures face as it stood for a moment studying them, It was tall and heavily muscled with yellow reptillian eyes and a fanged mouth. Malisane felt a horrendous surge of recognition as his past memories identified when he'd seen it last, and it met his own gaze, hatred boring into the Battlelord.

"Fire!" Deliverance shouted as it leapt for the Battlelord and she, Locke, Roxas and Gavroche fired at the creature, blaster bolts hitting it without having any effect or even slowing it. Malisane and Kano instantly struck out silently with force blasts and the creature roared and crashed to the floor. Then it was up and leaping at the Battlelord again as more blaster bolts hit it and the two equites hit it with more blasts. Malisane crashed against the wall as the creature hit him, the powerful Sith wrestling and punching helplessley as the creature raked it's claws tearing down his armour, then it placed it's clawed hands on his temples and images began to surge through his mind, his past, the Orian system and it's worlds, Severak, Severina, the Yuuzhan Vong, Agrist, the Keibatsu, Vexatus, Astronicus and the rest of the Sons, everything was leeched out of the helpless Battlelord's mind in a split second.

Suddenly Deliverance stepped forward, smashing her seemingly ineffective rifle but into the back of the creatures head, and it turned snarling and dropping Malisane raising it's hand to strike her down. Then it paused, it's eye's widening and they looked at each other in confusion, Deliverance's face showing a mixture of fear and puzzlement and the creature radiating waves of curiousity to the surrounding Sith.
"Now!" Kano shouted and leapt forward grabbing the half stunned Battlelord and dragging him back as Gavroche and Roxas moved backwards, covering the creature who snapped it's gaze to them away from Deliverance who leapt away from it, . Locke raised his blaster and fired upwards, hitting an overhanging rock and seeing this Kano reached up with the force and dragged the cracked rocks down onto the creature, sending it crashing to the floor under a showever of boulders. Kano half dragged Malisane outside as the rest covered the pile of rocks as they backed out of the cave that was begining to move as the creature began to free itself.
"Grenade!" Deliverance shouted and Gavroche reached to his belt and flung the grenade into the cave. They turned and ran as an explosion rocked the cave, sending the rest of the celing crashing down as they hurled themselves to the ground.

Finally they got up slowly, leaving the Battlelord laying on the ground. He seemed alright, just stunned and confused. "What the hell was that thing?" Gavroche asked, regarding the buried cavemouth.
Kano glanced at Deliverance then shrugged. "Hopefully it's dead."
"Must be," Locke agreed. "Nothing could survive that."
Deliverance still had a farway look in her eyes, Then she shook her head. "Gavroche check on Verdane. The rest of you make a perimeter make sure nothing else is out there. Once our people get here we're as far away from here as possible."
As they begin to move out Kano knelt down besides the Battlelord as Gavroche reached into his pack to see what medical supplies he had "You ok Battlelord?" the Mando asked under his breath.
Malisane slowly raised his head. "I need to talk to the Consul," he whispered.
"It's dead isn't it?" Kano asked glancing at the collasped cave.
Malisane sat back, exausted. He cast his mind back over the decades to the last time he'd seen it. "We can hope."

After 30 minutes on patrol, Roxas saw something large clawing its way out of the ground. He walked closer and turned on his light...IT WAS THE BEAST! It jumped foward knocking him over, launching the blaster out of Roxas's hand. The beast was clawing and slashing at his armor Roxas grabbed his armory saber and ignited it slashing at the beasts belly, but it was completely ineffective."Damn! Why won't this thing die!" Roxas yelled, as he stabbed the beast in the eye. The beast jump back, yelling with pain. "I'm not done with you yet." Roxas said as he pulled a thermal detonator from his belt and threw it into the bests mouth as it roared, charging in to attack. The beast stopped and swallowed it, and suddenly the beast stopped and stood with an odd look on its face and then fell over and stopped moving. Roxas grabbed his blaster and slowly walked up behind it and noticed that smoke was bellowing from the beasts mouth. Roxas let out a sigh of releif and turned on his comm link, "Master Kano, that was beast was one persistent *******, it just crawled out of the ground and attacked me, but it was no match for a determined Mandalorian." Roxas then returned to patroling the area.

The Aeotheran Jungle
Outside the now caved in decommissioned mine

‘Say again...bzzt...Roxas? Your...bzzt...signal’s breaki...up,’ crackled Kano's voice over the journeyman’s comlink.

Roxas rapped his fist on the device, and then flinched when a burst of static shot down into ear canal. ‘Son of a...’

‘That you again, Roxas? The humidity from that kriffing storm cloud is jamming everything out here.’

‘Master, I said I got the monster,’ Roxas replied. ‘Whatever it was.’

‘We’re on our way. Hold station.’

‘Roger, Master. Roxas out.’

Roxas looked back at the large muscular corpse. The head had been blown open, leaving a smoking hole where one half of its face should have been. The yellow eye on top of the side facing Roxas was still staring straight up, eye wide open. It looked hideous.

There was something strange about it, too. As Roxas reached out, brushing against it with the tendrils of the dark side, he... could not feel it. It was normal to not feel something after death, but this was more than that—the dead still left an imprint. He could not anything at all. It was empty.

Like it was purposefully shielding itself from him.

But it was dead. How could it do that?

The sound of a gunship engine overhead brought Roxas out of his thoughts and he dived for cover underneath a nearby bush. Through the leaves, he saw a LAAT/i police patrol boat glide over the jungle canopy above, obviously searching for the culprits behind the attack on the monitoring outpost and the train derailment. A few moments later the larty disappeared again, clearly not spotting them.

A footstep sounded behind and Roxas turned to see Kano and Malisane emerge from behind a tree.

‘We left Deliverance outside the mine,’ Malisane said, ‘so we can talk freely for a few seconds. Locke's keeping her and Gavroche busy working out the details on how we hit Generator Two. They’re expecting some reinforcements from the resettlement village to get here in the next couple of hours.’ He shrugged. ‘But enough about that.’ A look of concern spread across his face. ‘What happened with the creature?’

‘Like I told Kano, it just burst out of the dirt. I shoved a thermal in its mouth though.’ Roxas nodded over his shoulder toward the dead body behind him. ‘That took the bastard down hard enough.’ A satisfied grin crossed the Mandalorian’s features.

‘Nice job, apprentice,’ Kano said.

Malisane’s eyes were still staring at the corpse. The Battlelord shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. He looked dizzy... and tired. ‘I don’t know what it tried to do to me... it... it was like it dug into my mind and ripped out half my head. I don’t know. It was... wrong. It shouldn’t be.’

‘We took it down though. Together,’ Kano said, nodding toward his apprentice in admiration. ‘The cave in, and then the detonator, the thing didn’t stand a chance.’

Malisane still didn’t turn away. ‘I... I’ve fought it before.’

‘Huh?’ said Roxas and Kano in unison.

‘Before your time. Twelve... thirteen years ago. I blew it up and buried it.’

‘It’s an animal. It can’t surely be the same thing... can it?’ said Roxas.

‘I—’

Before Malisane could finish, there was a snort from behind. Roxas spun. On the floor, where he had slain the creature, the yellow eye turned to stare straight at them. ‘What the kark?’ Where half the head had been blown apart, the skin currently seemed to be in the process of netting back together.

‘Run,’ Malisane said. ‘Just run!’

‘We can take it out,’ Kano said. ‘It’s no match for three fully trained soldiers, not with the power of the dark side behind them, too.’ He drew into the Force, conjuring a black ball of energy and hurled a Force blast toward the beast... only for the dark side energies to dissipate before they reached the downed monster. ‘Er, okay, new tactic.’

‘Take out something that can resurrect itself?’ Malisane muttered, seeming to not quite believe what he was seeing himself.

A moment later, a snort snarled from the mutilated corpse, then the body leapt into the air, landing on all four limbs like a dog, limping on two of the arms where the tendons had been snapped in the explosion of Roxas’s thermal detonator. And as the three Dark Jedi raised their weapons in a trio of blaster flashes... the creature suddenly took off into the forest, hurtling away at rocket pace.

‘That... was not what I was expecting.’

‘It’s probably going to go somewhere to regenerate itself.’ Malisane shook his head. ‘We can worry about what to do about it some other day. Right now, we need to get back to camp before Deliverance starts getting suspicious. We’ve got a power plant to take down.’

Seng Karash
Dlarit Police Headquarters

Dyrra sidled up to the headquarters, watching as the usual revolving door of louts and lowlifes were shuttled in and out of the front doors, including some from the barfight at the Blue Hutt earlier that evening. There was an unusual amount of foot traffic, even for a night like this, and the Quaestor would’ve had no trouble sneaking into the building.

That is, if the officer whose palm Sai greased earlier hadn’t been posted on the steps waiting for her.

“Ma’am?” the human asked, certainty lacing his voice. “Officer Sylvyn. Come with me, please.”

Any other time, Dyrra may have been taken a bit aback by the mundane’s directness. The briefing Sai gave her on her short trip over kept her calm, though.

She followed the young man, careful not to hold anyone’s gaze for too long. It would be easier to explain her presence away if she was confronted later on if no one could rightfully remember whether or not she was even there.

After a bit, the pair came to an interrogation room. Officer Sylvyn clicked his heels, snapped off a proper salute, and walked crisply away.

Dyrra stood, confusion threatening to slump her shoulders. All that she knew from Sai’s curt explanation was that there was a twi’lek, presumably the Blue Hutt’s owner, awaiting her interrogation. The trouble was, she had no idea where to start.

Taking a deep breath, she put her hand on the door handle. Before she could push it open, she heard a familiar baritone wafting down the hallway.

“Starting without me, are we? Remind me to tell my cousin that somebody slept through their ‘patience' lessons.”

Dyrra turned to see Tsainetomo striding down the hall, in no real rush, lighting his thin, hand rolled tabac, a rakish grin creasing his bronzed face. She rolled her eyes, a sharp retort aching to leap from her tongue.

And, leap, it did. “This is a non-smoking facility, Sai. I swear, all you Keibatsu are alike! One of these days, someone’s going to wipe that ‘gee-aren’t-I-clever?’ look from your collective faces.”

“They just might, o’ Captain, my Captain…but not today.” Sai playfully rejoined. Shall we?” He made a show of bowing and gesturing towards the door. “We haven’t much time. 'Good cop, bad cop'?”

“Works for me,” Dyrra huffed before throwing the door open with more force than she originally planned. It struck the bulkhead with a loud boom, and Lady Chessene, seated at a metal table in an uncomfortable looking steel chair, jumped at the sound.

Dyrra put on her best, comforting smile and walked to the table, taking the lone chair across from the twi’lek. Tsainetomo closed the door slowly, purposefully, and softly, and leaned back against the door, never looking directly at Chessene, puffing on his tabac.

Dyrra’s voice rang out in the small room. “Lady..Chessene, right? I knew it! I’m so sorry to have to inconvenience you. I mean, we know that you have a lucrative business to run. You’ve stayed out of trouble…for the most part.” The pause let the twi’lek know that the pair knew more than they let on. Dyrra continued. “But, I must say that tonight doesn’t look good for you. You offer a good service: strong drinks on the cheap and lively entertainment. I remember you back from your earlier career.” Her smile and conspiratorial wink made the lie convincing. “Why don’t you just tell us what we need to know, and we never need remember tonight’s…unpleasantness.”

Lady Chessene drew herself up in the chair; at least, as far as it would allow her. “Oh, a fan! Well, I would think that a fan would treat a star a little better than the way I’ve been treated. My bar’s busted up, my reputation, possibly more so. I’ve a mind to make a few calls, you know.” She wagged her finger at Dyrra as if scolding a child. Chessene still hadn’t acknowledged the Korun-Keibatsu, who was still puffing on his tabac.

“Besides,” Chessene continued, emboldened by the pair’s silence, “I still haven’t been told what I’ve been charged with. I mean, ‘drug trafficking?’ Puh-lease. It’ll never stick, and no judge would convict me on circumstantial evidence.”

At this, Tsainetomo finally stubbed out his tabac and spoke. “Hummph; drugs. Poison, if you ask me…” Suddenly, his mood lightened, seeming to have lost his train of thought. He moved to the table, drawing his baton-like hilt and turning it lovingly in his hands.

“Do you see this, Lady ‘C’?” Sai held it out for the twi’lek to see in the room’s single lamp’s light. “My cousin made this for me; said that it fit me. Absolutely beautiful. Do you know what the writing says?” he asked, knowing full well she didn’t.

Before she could answer, Sai continued, his teeth flashing in the light as he smiled. “I know you’re a busy being, so I won’t bore you, but I will paraphrase some of it, because I think it sort of fits this occasion. ‘…and I shall strike down with great Vengeance and furious Anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my Brothers…’”

At this, a sudden chill came over the room. An easy trick, really, for Force-users, but for the mundane like Chessene, it was terrifying…and a thing of theatrical beauty to Dyrra.

Sai leaned in close to the twi’lek, his tripartite gaze holding her eyes fast and voice soft as silk wrapped around a katana. “Are you, dear Lady, attempting to poison and destroy my brothers?” He tapped the baton against the steel table, beating a slow rhythm, metal against metal pinging, seeming to grow louder and louder.

A heartbeat passed.

Then, another.

Then, the twi’lek cracked like an egg. “Alright, alright! All I know is that some men come in with packages, leave them by the door. In a few hours, sometimes a day, someone else comes from the other end and picks them up! The money’s good, and my bar stays open. That’s all I know!”

Dyrra leapt at the opening. “So, drugs were found this time. What about supplies? Weapons?”

“I swear I don’t know! They’re always wrapped up, and I don’t ask questions!” Lady Chessene was near tears.

At this, the door opened. It was the young officer, Sylvyn, and he had news. “Ok, this prisoner’s bail’s been posted. She’s free to go.”

Tsainetomo straightened and Dyrra stood. The twi’lek gathered herself and rushed out the door, flying past the Sadowans like the wind.

Tsainetomo looked out the door and into the hallway, smiling as he saw a familiar face.

Dyrra caught the look, but couldn’t hide her exasperation. “Sai, as glad as I am to have missed the dog-and-pony show back at the warehouse, I think my time could’ve been better spent. We learned nothing.”

“Ah, but we learned all we need to know, for now.” The Son of Sadow looked as a cat who had caught a small songbird. “Do you know who I saw in the hallway, who I presume posted Lady ‘C’s bail?”

Dyrra shrugged.

“Soolin. Malisane’s friend. If I recall, she’s posted up in C.A.R.E. headquarters?” Sai smiled as the cat that had eaten said songbird.

Dyrra’s grin now matched her fellow Korun’s as realization dawned upon her. “We’ve got to get someone on the comm and let them know that Dastari and Chessene are in bed together.”

Sai’s chuckle let Dyrra know that he took her statement in the literal sense, and she planted her hands on her hips as she rolled her eyes. “Oh, grow up, Keibatsu!”

The Aeotheran Jungle

Malisane stood apart from the rest. Deliverance's shuttle ought to be on the way and the ETA was apparently in half an hour. He had a communicator in his hand.
"I don't see this as a serious issue," Manji's voice came from the other side from whereever he was in the Resettlement Centre, "so you fought a creature and drove it off? Aeotheran is packed with things we haven't found a name for yet. Stay on the mission, If you insist I'll send a team of biologists to check out the area after we've finished with the matter at hand, In the time being precede with your orders."
"You're underestimating this thing," the Battlelord snarled back, "I've seen this thing before, a hundred light years away. It's come here and it represents a threat to this Clan. We must act now."
"Don't be ridiculous," the Consul replied, "I'm sure you had a bad encounter and by all accounts you came off badly. Put it behind you and get on with the generator mission. We'll talk later."
Malisane threw the communicator at the ground and swore heavily. "Fool." He paused for a few minutes then stooped and picked up the communicator. He changed the frequency and waited a few seconds. "Senth. Code Nine. These co-ordinates."
There was a pause. "Acknowledged sir."
Malisane turned and stalked back to join the others.

Deliverance watched the transport arrive. Like the speeder it was old and delapidated, a basic ore transport shuttle that Dlarit had used years ago before the extension of the monorail system. Behind her Gavroche and Locke stood nearby as the shuttle made it's final approach and landed smoothly on the grassy clearing floor. She stepped forward as the hatch opened to reveal dark armoured figures inside, and the leader stepped out to greet her clasping her hand.
"Carolides," Deliverance said returning the gesture, "good to see you."
The figure nodded, then replied in a reptillian trandoshan voice, "We came as summoned boss," he replied, "we had several new recruits. The doctor gave them a clean bill of health, and they seem reliable."
Deliverance cast a quick glance over the figures in the ship. "Very well. We'll need them."
Carolides nodded. "We heard about the train. It was a tragedy." He nodded towards Gavroche. "You were not to blame."
Gavroche nodded. "I hope not."
"Verdane, Kano, Roxas," Deliverance shouted, "get your arses over here it's time to move!"

She waited until they approached and boarded the shuttle. The trandoshan observed them, then Gavroche and Locke. "You have had problems here?"
Deliverance nodded, her eyes glancing at the cave. "Nothing we couldn't handle." The encounter still bothered her but she didn't know why.
She entered the shuttle, and took a seat next to Verdane amongst the rest. "You have the co-ordinates. Lets. move. You have the serum Carolides."
The trandoshan nodded, producing a number of syringes. "Enough."
Malisane and Kano exchanged a glance then the Battlelord turned to Deliverance. "What is that stuff?"
"A performance enhancer," Carolides said in an amused tone, "Make you faster, stronger, smarter human, like a trandoshan."
"I doubt we'll need that," Kano argued.
"We'll need all the advantages we can get," Deliverance told him, "it's not adictive. It's a little gift from the same place as the weapons."
Malisane shrugged. "Very well."

Near Usharak Keep
Kangaras

The hatch closed as the last of the small chambers shut with a hiss and the cycle was activated. In the cabin lights flashed as the autopilot engaged and a few seconds later the engines powered up rising the freighter off the ground, and it turned slowly, then the engines kicked into life driving the ship above the Keep and the treetops, swiftly rising through the atmosphere. A few minutes later the Argnok entered hyperspace.

C.A.R.E Campaign Headquarters
Commerical and Leisure District
Seng Karash

Jade’s comp pad beeped and she looked around. Dastari has recently left them alone but she wasn’t too careful. Soolan looked at her and Jade motioned towards the small deck on the side of the room and then the door. As she moved towards the deck she noticed the comlink was from Sai. She smiled. The man had become like a brother to her. Smirking she thought about all the things they had done to try and tease each other. She pressed the button as soon as she stepped out into the night, a small holographic image of Sai popped up. “Greetings Sai.” It was the first time her voice had lit up in a while. It had been a while since she last spoke to Sai, and was somewhat surprised he didn’t use the force communication he had shown her. It then occurred to her it was likely something about Dastari and signalled Soolan to join her. A slight cough followed by the formation of Dyrra coming up beside Sai appeared. Jade had never actually met Dyrra in person, but she had heard great things. She would have to make a point of finally meeting up. “Hello Dyrra.”

Sai noticed the sunglasses on Jade’s face hiding her eyes. It was unusual for her to make such a move, but she had been doing so off and on ever since the last Great Jedi War. He had an idea why it might be; after all he had sent her on the mission with the Beserker, but he didn’t yet know for sure. Soolan moved into view on his end, adding a blue outline to the holographic image. “Jade, Soolan.”

Dyrra jumped up, “We have interesting news that should help you in dealing with Dastari.”

Soolan looked at the tiny images, both ladies using the force to make sure no one was nearby to hear the conversation. “I like the sound of this, do tell.”

Jade looked at Soolan and smiled. The lady had her evil streak, something they discussed often at night after Dastari left for the evening. They were getting to be closer friends, and a much better team than when they first walked into the mission.

Sai nodded, “It appears Lady Chessene and Dastari are sharing close dealings.”

Jade grinned evilly and she and Soolan shared an evil glance.

“I believe this may have gotten just a bit more fun.” Soolan winked at the holograms. “Thanks for the information.”

“Yes, this is most interesting, thank you to you both. May the force guide you.” Jade’s words suddenly cut off as the image of both girls looked over their shoulder.

“You two are still here?” Dastari’s voice followed him as he stopped part way to the door.

Soolan moved in front of Jade, giving her a fraction of a second more to use the force to cool the comlink, so if found no one would suspect they had been using it, and place it back in her pocket. “We were just about to leave, just finishing up a few things, when the night called us to look out.”

Dastari positioned his body slightly to look at Jade over Soolans Shoulder and Jade moved better into his view smiling. “I find it difficult to find time to just look at the stars, but they are beautiful when you get the chance.” Though the position of the head quarters made it difficult to see many of the stars in the sky, but it was a good enough excuse.

He nodded, “Yes I agree, though there is little time for reflection these days.” He moved over to a desk nearby and picked up a book holding it up in almost a salute to the two women. “Can’t believe I forgot this, I swear I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached sometimes!” Soolan and Jade smiled at his comment, both using the force to enhance their vision to see the title of the book, seeing it was some sort of date planner. Both women instantly wondered if there was something more in the book dealing with Lady Chessene. “Well, don’t work too much longer tonight ladies; I need your sharp minds tomorrow to help me deal with recent events.”

Soolan and Jade nodded. “We’ll be here.”

“Good, good.” He gave them a wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

Blue Hutt

Teu glanced around, shrugging her shoulders quickly she turned and walked out of the bar and down the alley. She stopped at another cantina for a brief moment and stopped in the restroom facilities changing her hair from its brown color to blonde took only several minutes. Once she left she moved towards tent city and found this doctor, got cleared and was on the transport towards the main group. Her eyes twinkled softy she had been out of action for far too long.

The Aeotheran Jungle

Teu stands on the transport; she had lost her normal glossy brown hair for rather stunning blonde color. As she walked down the ramp she tossed her head several times, clearing it of the low rumble of the transport. She glanced around swiftly; her eyes glanced over her fellow comrades, focusing primarily on Kano for a brief moment before turning her gaze onto the new comer next to him.

She moved to a tree next to the group and leaned against it, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a stick of dried meat and began chewing on the snack. Her eyes never leaving the Mandolorian Jedi’s helmet, she chewed loudly hoping to draw his attention. It worked he moved over to the female and looked at her.

“Who’s the new kid?” She spoke low so her voice would not carry too far.

“Roxas” Kano kept his voice of similar volume.

“Ah.” She swallowed her mouthful of food. “Meat stick?”

As she asked Roxas approached the duo his voice somewhat lower but still caught the attention of the groups edge “Master Kano who is that?” The contempt in his voice was obvious as he looked at the knight.

Teu gave a short laugh and glared at the man before looking at Kano, the tone of her voice changed from pleasant to cold. “He honestly didn’t ask that did he?” Without waiting for an answer she looked at Roxas, her voice barely a whisper now “I am the wife of your Quaster, names aren’t important”

She reached back into her pocket and began eating another meat stick. “A habit I picked up while unable to drink for those couple of months, kinda stuck."

The Aeotheran Jungle

An armored hand gripped Teu's shoulder, as the man in black and green armor stood behind the trio. It squeezed her shoulder soft enough to tell the young woman that he was with them, and that she needed to put the meat stick away. The Dark Jedi Knight turned to face the armored hand, knowing full well who it was as her Force presence became an supernova of excitement and happiness, while her exterior expression stayed stone cold.

Without removing his helmet, he spoke, "Roxas, try not to get killed, Kano told me about your little mishap with that beastie. Saves me the bloody paperwork to deal with."

The Templar looked over at his former apprentice, and noticed Kano had his helmet still lodged between his two shoulders. His mind opened a secure and private communications channel between Kano and himself. "Kano, we've got a tiny bit of a problem. While I was at that Doctor's they checked me out, and found I've got some disease. I was able to trick the Doc into saying I was cleared but it's not good. Don't know how long I have if this disease gonna kill me or what."

"Kark. Kark, kark, kark. Vode, why are you telling me?"

"Because at the moment your the only one that has a buy'ce on." Fremoc removed his hand from Teu's shoulder and pulled the DC-17m rifled off of his back and held it tightly. Malisane was off with Locke just meters away, and noticed the old black and green armor. For Malisane, he hadn't seen it since Fremoc had helped been just a journeyman years ago. He gave the Templar a quick nod, before returning to the conversation he was having with Locke.

"Kano, remember that Operation we did back when I was the Leader of the Night Raptors?"

"Which one?"

"The one on Dxun."

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't this place remind you of it?"

"Almost vode, almost." The thought of Fremoc being sick was etched into the brain of the only student to have survived the Templar's training regime.

"Don't worry too much, I've still got the killer instinct."

"Kandosii, vode."

Onboard the disused ore hauler
Somewhere in the Aeotheran Jungle
En route to Generator Two

The antiquated shuttlebus juddered as it skimmed over the top of the jungle canopy. The mottled band of refugees and freedom fighters had been picked up from the collapsed mine and packed into the rear hold, their combined body odours adding a new must to the existing smell of oil. The black slimy remnants were everywhere, and Rob Rowaan had successfully wiped enough across his face and hands that he was virtually indistinguishable from any other miner back from a day’s hard graft.

Rowaan was currently squeezed into the back of the hold, having been sitting there since the Voice of Justice representative, Carolides, put out the call back at tent city following the train derailment for all beings able to bear arms to step forward and back Deliverance’s campaign for justice. Rowaan did not care particularly for the woman herself—there was something noticeably wrong about her—but for the moment her goal coincided with his.

He turned to the man sitting alongside him, who was at that moment pressing down on a syringe containing whatever steroid they'd been handing around outside the cave. Rob himself had refused any, it gave him the same feeling of unease as Deliverance herself, but one of the others who'd come with him and Carolides from the camp had insisted; Rob just tossed the cocktail off into the bushes before boarding the airspeeder again, there was no way he was touching it. ‘What’s the operation?’ Rob asked the other man once he was done.

‘We’re off to hit one of the generators. Should put a dent in Dlarit’s commerce.’

Dlarit. There was a name Rowaan remembered. It had been how many years? The children were a good ten years old, putting his last memories of the Phare system to around fifteen years ago. His head currently felt as if someone had driven a poker through one of his ears and out the other side. He’d been living it rough in the jungle for almost a year when he came across Deliverance’s people a few weeks ago. They took him in, gave him food, shelter—promised to help him where Dlarit had failed him.

None of it made any sense.

How could the Dlarit Corporation have failed?

Rob wiped his forehead, getting even more oil over his face. He glanced over his shoulder at some of the other refugees. There was something strangely familiar about one of them—and at the same time something deeply off putting. He was reminded of the Overlord.

But that could not be. There was only one Lord Sadow. How could others carry his blood?

What had happened in the years he’d been locked away?

The possibilities flashed through Rowaan’s mind, forcing him to hold back a pained cry as explosions detonated inside his skull. Had the Clan fallen? Had the Empire been victorious during the Exodus? WHERE WAS LORD SADOW?! One of the two men in Mandalorian armour briefly glanced at him but Rob quickly buried his face in his oily hands.

Bastion. The answers would be found at Bastion. But... what was Bastion? How did he even know about it? Perhaps the Administrator had told him to go there... yes, that was probably it. But he couldn't remember anymore. Why couldn't he remember? It was as if his mind was tearing itself apart...

It was all wrong.

And Rob Rowaan intended to get to the bottom of it.

Approaching Generator 2
Aeotheran Jungle
2217 Hours
(About quarter past ten)

The shuttle was flying lower now, just skimming the treetops to avoid the radar systems. As a few of the V.O.J members on board looked out of the windows in the distance the lights of Seng Karash could be seen but nearer a squat grey building with flashing lights was getting nearer and nearer. Generator Two, the second of the planets power stations that ran the mining network and monorail system. The more disciplined amongst them including the Clan infiltrators were checking their equipment and armour or running their orders through their mind. Whatever they were going to face they were determined to be ready. Not everyone was focusing though.


Lenoris Research Centre
Planet Varenon
15 ABY

Since an early age she'd always had a natural ability of sneaking into places she didn't belong, much to the reluctant amusement of her parents and the annoyance of their colleagues. The ten year old was crouched silently in the corner of the laborartory behind a freezer watching the people in the white suits walking back and forth studying dials and displays. Finally they left and she moved forward carefully, getting to her feet and padding slowly across the floor around the large table. Something caught her eye. A large glass vat bubbled with some sort of liquid and lights flashed slowly around it. It was the content that was most intriguing, some sort of large humanoid creature with reptillian features floated in the liquid with tubes connected to it's face and chest, it's eyes closed and it's face passive as if asleep. Fearlessley she moved foward, glancing at the door of the laboratory then back at the creature. Slowly she reached a hand out and touched the glass. It was strangely warm. Then she gasped as the creatures eyes opened and met hers, yellow with small black reptile pupils and she felt them boring into her own.
"What are you doing in here?" a voice asked and she turned to see two men in white suits angrily approaching as the creature's head snapped to regard them. One of the scientists pressed a button and another light flashed and the creatures eyes closed again. "Morvas!" he shouted.
A few seconds later her father entered and looked exasperated when he saw her. "Sorry I don't know how she got in."
"Just get her out of here, she should know it's forbidden."

A few hours later she lay in bed in the dark in her room of the suite she lived with her parents. They were talking quietly in the next room but her strong hearing could pick up the voices.
"I want to leave Morvas," her mother was saying, "I don't trust them."
"We can't," her father replied, "they'll never let her go she's too valuable to them. And they won't let us just leave with what we know."
"She's not a lab rat," her mother snapped back angrily, "we'd never have agreed to this if we knew all the details."
"I know," he said sadly, "but we wanted a baby."
"And there's that thing," her mother pointed out, "any day now it will be released. It terrifies me."
"They say it's safe," he replied sounding dubious, "they can control it."
"They hope. I don't care I'm getting her out of here Morvas, as soon as possible even if I have to fight."
There was a pause. "We'll think of a way." he resssured her.

"You alright boss?" Gavroche said shaking her arm.
Deliverance blinked. She' been in a world of her own, the memory had been so vivid, and yet until now she'd repressed it somehow. "Yes I'm fine, what is our status?"
"We're nearly there boss."
She nodded. "Good."
The shuttle cleared the trees and landed in a clearing near the generator. Quickly checking they had everything they silently slipped off the shuttle, moving across the moist ground to where beyond another clump of trees the high security fencing seperated them from the rear of the building, where Kano's intel had indicated the delivery entrance. They were determined to make a delivery of their own to Dlarit.

Near Warehouse 5-C, Tent City
Seng Karash, Aeotheran
2242 hours

His shadow dancing briefly under the glare of harsh halogen lights, Manji slipped across the open compound and darted into the shadows of a pile of crates, his eye flitting back and forth to make sure nobody had spotted him. He was just behind the Warehouse that had been mentioned in the soup kitchen, and his expanded hearing could pick up footsteps scuffing back and forth and the hushed sounds of breathing. Shrugging his makeshift robes up around his shoulders, Manji settled back against one of the crates to wait, his every sense tingling and alert. He wanted to make sure every Voice of Justice sympathiser was here before he unleashed the whirlwind upon them.

It had been a strange day. He'd received regular updates from Darla as she kept him appraised of the developments across Seng Karash; the monorail crash, the arrest of Lady Chessene and her subsequent grilling by Dyrra and Tsainetomo, the bar fight at the Blue Hutt, everything. From her lofty position on the Skyhook, his aide was cautiously optimistic; she'd picked up several local holo-reports which cast Dlarit in a good light, and they'd been doing everything possible to stem the tide of negative propaganda hurled at them by Deliverance. That said, for every report of a Dlarit soldier preventing a mugging, there was bilious resentment hurled at Dlarit's failure to repatriate the refugees trapped in Tent City.

A quick spread of his senses told Manji that other Sadowans were still active inside Tent City; to the best of his knowledge, every Dark Jedi of his Clan had been busy engineering positive propaganda for Dlarit. It was a campaign, of sorts- they needed to turn the tide of public resentment away from the Corporation and back onto the Voice of Justice, exposing them as dangerous terrorists. Some of the Force users he could sense were not too far away; the Pontifex would not be surprised if they traced his presence to the Warehouse and offered assistance.

A smirk curled his lips. Not that I'd need assistance...

Shifting position slightly, he leaned back to stare up at the stars and think. He would need to figure out a way to stop this attempted desecration and theft of the food supplies- simultaneously smearing the Voice of Justice with the blame and exonerating Dlarit as the heroes who had prevented it. The Consul frowned.

I hate puzzles.

Suddenly Manji heard more movement; louder footsteps and a voice, hissing to what must have been several others.

"Are we all here?"

Another voice responded, equally hushed; this one Manji recognised from the soup kitchen, gruff and low.

"Who else're y'waitin' for, moron, Deliverance herself? It's almost time, I think we're all here..."

Silence fell as Manji strained his ears, every muscle tensed. Whatever he decided to do needed to be done quickly.

Enroute to Warehouse 5-C, Tent City
Seng Karash, Aeotheran
2242 hours

Fire, smoke and ashes filled the air as Ylith kneeled down and stirred the ground. Men
were running around everywhere yet the Valheru could not tell friend from foe. He smirked
as he was hoping for a quieter return to his Clan, yet he had to settle for it by returning
with the Clan in turmoil. As he smiled in delight the Vong Contraption latching onto his
head started to retract its claws stretching the Dark Jedi's skill. He grunted and as his
emotion faded away, so did the pain.

--

A few months earlier

The Valheru shook his head, he was tired of the visions, of the constant whispers that
plagued him ever since he saw him, ever since he saw Vexatus, alive, floating in a tank
seemingly dead but his spirit very much alive. The Sith's mind just screamed thinking
about what he saw, a void, a darkness beyond darkness. He could not sleep, as when
his eyes were closed he could see the three suns burning his skin from his flesh and
his flesh from his bones. Amidst the images stood a burning sword piercing the world
itself, shattering it, devouring it, a never stilled hunger.

Ylith groaned and clamped his head between his hands and dug his nails into his skin,
wishing the pain would go, wishing the rotten feeling would either kill him already or
grant him mercy. The once powerful Sith Battlemaster that threw down Vexatus at the
heart of the Force now lay screaming and digging his nails into his skin, the sight of
blood flowing stilled his heart but not his mind, it wasn't enough to take away the image,
it was not enough to silence his voice, a single voice amidst a thousand, faded yet clearly
there.

Doors opened, sounding as flesh expanding, Vong technology. A shaper walked into the
cell and examined the Dark Jedi laying on the ground, watching him carefully and was
taking notes to herself in a tongue the Valheru had no knowledge of. Suddenly the
shaper cleared her throat and spoke basic in a heavy dialect.

"You weesh to merge with Yuuzhan Vong Technology, eembrace pain?"

The Sith kneeled in front of the shaper, taking deep and heavy breaths as sweat dripped
from his body. "Yes, I know it can be done - his Vong eye met hers - I've..seen..it."

"Yoo are fool to theenk we help you!" She spat, grabbing him by the jaw, bringing his face
to meet her own. "You kill our waarriors and spat over our Gods! Why must wee help?"

"You forget that you're in Dark Jedi space. I could expose you easily and have you removed
which will not be of help to neither of us." The Battlemaster said and the Shaper moved her
hand to stroke her face in thought before confronting the Sith once more.

"Ai want too test a new beast, new and deadlee. I wish to test on yoo."
"On one condition." The Valheru answered and the Vong turned, amused by the thought he
may have his wish granted. "Yes?"
"I wish to regain my freedom and have my vengeance on the one who plagues me. In return
you may have your experiments."
"Very well... - She grinned wickedly - but do realize that your body is not your own anymore
nor shall it ever bee..."

---
Present Day
Back in Tent City

The Valheru snapped out of his daydream and back into reality as he heard a small group of
men ran towards him, he quickly withdrew into the shadow and let the group past, picking up
something about heading to a threat near Warehouse 5-C. Ylith didn't wait for answers and
followed the group towards this warehouse, hoping to be united with his Dark Jedi brethren
soon.

Outside Generator 2
The entire team was trying to figure out the best way to infiltrate the base and get to the Generator.Roxas sugested to his allies that they follow behind a delivery truck then get to into the air ducts to further infiltrate the base that way they would'nt be seen. The rest of the team decided that it would probably be the best course of action.

The team took up their Dlarit NR3S Submachine Guns and got close to the entrance of the gate, after a while a delivery truck came by and they all hopped on board. The truck went into the gate and unbeknownst to Roxas, but the every truck was security checked. As a guard stuck his head in the back of the truck one of the team members fired their Dlarit NR3S Submachine Gun hitting the guard in the head, luckily the weapon was equipped with a silencer, and another member pulled the body into the truck and stuffed it in a crate. Kano angrily kicked Roxas and feircely whispered "Pay attention, dumb ass!" Roxas replied " it wasn't in the intel and i've been watching these damn trucks go in and out for an hour not a one stopped."

After afew more minutes the truck was inside and stopped, the team lept up and took off into the air ducts, making their way toward the generator.

Tent City
Outside Seng Karash, Aeotheran

He had moved quickly, making up his mind. He had had a quick meal with his host before leaving to find his stockpile, it had been well hidden and placed outside of the makeshift city so that it would be difficult to find even if it weren't so well disguised. Quickly taking the stockpile out of sight into the depths of the jungles he quickly strapped himself into his modified gear before heading back into the city; it wasn't the most original disguise in the world, but it would work for what he needed. The modified armour looked distinctive but would no doubt be branded as "Mandalorian", it was this very appearance that helped him with his next task: find the Voice of Justice."

Generator Two
Outside Seng Karash, Aeotheran

It had taken a little to convince the doctor that he was good to go, the "visor" he wore beneath his helmet gave him more than adequate sight, something that had allowed him to sneak in amongst the group. As the group began to infiltrate the Generator complex, Methyas quickly found the others but made it a point not to draw attention to their knowledge of each other. As the groups started the infiltrate the air ducts Methyas started giving people the leg up they needed to get into the ducts; the distinctive t-shaped visor meeting with various faces he recognized as the group began to try to quietly creep through the ducts. As he started helping the last of the team into the ducts he heard his ear-piece start up, "You're a difficult man to reach, why the different channel?"
A slight sigh before he started to respond, "Didn't want them to pick up we knew each other, two bounty hunters are odd enough...combine that with the distinctive Mandalorian helmet; I just didn't want questions."

There was a pause as he helped Deliverance into the ducts, the woman giving him a solid tap on the helmet before telling him their shared channel before he heard Kano's voice again, "Might want to join that channel now, good to have you here vode."

Backing away from the wall for a moment the Miraluka threw himself at it, his feet sliding along the wall as he tried to push against it for that little extra push towards the ducts before clasping one of the team's hand, the man helping pull him up enough that he could do the rest before he clanked along the floor like the rest of them. As the group worked through the ducting the various grunts, groans and complaints could be heard amongst the clattering of various gear against the walls and floor of the ducting. With a dull thud the Miraluka cursed to himself as a magazine for his NR2 wiggled loose from it's casing. Quickly moving to place it back in it's pouch he started to hear the faint rumbling of people talking around them. With a quick switch to his throat-mic he spoke fluidly to emphasis his point, "We're making a lot of noise up here, we need to find an exit before they start to realize we're not animals up here."

Outskirts of Generator Two
Outside Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Fremoc and Kano had broken away from the rest of the group as they entered the Generator's complex. Finding a safe distance but also the best viewing area of the generator for a sniping team, the two Templars began creating their camoflage. Fremoc set up his rifle in its sniper rifle mode, and laid prone on the ground amongst the camoflage. Kano laid next to him, bringing his scope to the T in his helmet. Guards had been taken care of but the two still lay waiting in case there were more, and if the team needed to get out quickly. The two saw their Mandalorian brother helping the team into the ducts and chuckled as Deliverance had no idea who they actually were.

"I got two Tangos top floor," said Kano.

"In my sights."

"Take 'em." Two beams of light scorched through the air killing both guards.

"God this is getting too easy."

"Almost boring."

"Exactly." Fremoc's neck hairs started to rise as he felt something getting closer to them. "You feel that?"

"Yeah." Fremoc reached for his knife as Kano grabbed his Westars. Fremoc expanded his senses, touching the mind that was coming towards them. The beast was looking for food, something Fremoc and Kano seemed to be made of. The Quaestor projected images into the beast's mind to calm it and to make it think of creatures near by that were food.

"It's a Vornskr."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm controlling it. If it kills me, kill it."

"Consider it done." Fremoc got up, still holding his knife and moved off into the bushes to find the Vornskr, leaving Kano to watch the generator and the team.

C.A.R.E HQ
Seng Karash

Soolin paced the room, lost in thought. Nearby Jade Sadow sat at her table, eyes closed focusing on the force.
"Anything?" Soolin demanded.
The Archpriestess opened her eyes and sighed. "It would be considerably easier to do this without interuptions."
Soolin nodded, taking the hint and sitting on a sofa, throwing her legs up onto it and reaching for her drink.
Jade shook her head and closed her eyes again, focusing on the nearby room.

Lady Chessene strode up and down the room angrily as she listened to Dastari. "This is ridiculous Ven," she spluttered, "how can you attach any blame to me. When I gave you permission to use the Blue Hutt you stated they were humanitarian supplies, not weapons for terrorists!"
Dastari shrugged, "These people are fighting for the survival of their people," he replied smoothly, "from a certain perspective they were humanitarian supplies. Anyway you haven't been charged with anything."
"Yet," she replied, "supposing they have just released me for observation? I have no wish to be arrested again and spend the next ten years in the Centoa facility on terrorist charges. What about my career?"
He frowned. "Before the publicity of my campaign boosted your career it was flagging," he replied coldly, "your last single prior to my involvement bombed. Now you have regained your popularity."
"What use is that to me in prison?" she snapped.
"I imagine your fellow inmates will be greatly appreciative of your performances," he said with a shrug.
"You as well," she told him, "if they arrest me again you're going down with me Ven. I know that much."
He opened his mouth to snarl back, then took a deep breath. "Lie low for a few days," he replied, "let Dlarit finish with your bar and rent a hotel suite. I'll speak to you later."
She nodded, "Count on it." She stormed out.

Dastari looked at the doorway where the twilek had left for a few moments. Then he turned to Kelvert, his black suited Head of Security. "She's become a liability."
Kelvert nodded, "Yes sir."
Dastari sighed. "Go after her Kelvert, make it quick and quiet."
"Yes sir."

In the ajoining room Jade opened her eyes. "Dastari's goon Kelvert is going after the singer. Follow them."
Soolin looked suprised. "You want me to save her?"
"Of course not," the Archpriestess replied, ." It's clear from their conversation she knows nothing else of use to us. Just find a way to turn this to our advantage."
Soolin nodded. "Very well."

Generator Two
Outside Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Teu watched as Fremoc and Kano moved off to give the group cover, she had reached through the bond that she and Fremoc shared, in it she left the impression telling him to be safe before she closed herself off to keep from distracting the man. As she reached up to scurry into the air duct her hand snagged a bit of metal that stuck out, a deep cut ran across her palm, blood poured out of her hand.

“Fierfek” Teu dropped back onto the ground; her eyes scanned the cut quickly. Using her good hand she tore a bit of her shirt off and quickly tied it around her hand, she quickly flexed her fingers ensuring they still worked. She felt a couple of eyes on her back, a couple of people looked at her for a moment. “Just a flesh wound is all.”

They shrugged their shoulders impassively, they waited for her to move into the air duct careful to miss the piece of metal the female was unlucky to catch her hand on.

Teu crawled quickly, her small nimble body made it easy for her to maneuver around the ducts. Some of the bigger men had a bit of difficulty as it was made evidently clear the air ducts were not made for armed people to crawl their way through. This was made for droids and technicians who had no need to be armed to the teeth. As she crawled she ignored the growing pain in her hand, with every movement it throbbed and stung, if she had not been surrounded by the enemy she would have healed the injury as it is she would have to stitch it up by hand when they got out of here.

The kid named Roxas moved near the front of the group, the air around him gave off a bit of incredible self confidence that he knew what he was doing and where he was going. He stopped in front of a grate and began unscrewing it, his voice was a mere whispered but due to the commlink each wore they heard his voice perfectly clear.
“Here is a good place to come out of, it looks like a storage room of some kind...There is a thirty foot drop to the ground though.”His voice was smug as if to say ‘thirty feet no problem’ .

Teu had seen maps of this complex to know this room was no a storage closet, it was the shower room for the guards. Teu frowned as she spoke up. “I don’t think we should go through there.”

She felt the anger pour off Roxas in waves as she disagreed with him, his voice was still calm but held a steely hint to it. “We do this my why newcomer. I know what I’m doing and you do not, so stay out of it.”
Teu felt anger fill her veins, her eyes narrowed and the bond opened between her and Fremoc opened for a brief moment, he felt the anger coursing off his wife however did not know it cause, as quick as it opened it closed. She nearly reached for the force to throw the man through the vent, into the shower room.

“Kid, you can go through that vent I do not care. However I will move to the next vent where there are bound to not be guards.” She hissed into the mic of her commlink, she had heard the voices of the showering guards waft through the vent, she was certain others had heard it as well. She nimble moved pasted Roxas and the others in the front and began to move forward when a hand reached for her shoving her through the opened vent.

Teu landed with her back on the ground, her breath knocked from her chest, around her guards changed their clothes into and out of their uniforms, and luckily no one was around her in this particular row, she let out a soft groan as the air filled her chest painfully. Nimbly as she could she stood, as it so happened a guard managed to walk past where she stood, his eyes clicked onto her, she reached down to her blaster and shot him, he was unconscious before he hit the floor. Unfortunately, the other guards heard the commotion and came to investigate.

An alarm blared and a sweet pleasant female voice filled the air, “Intruder”

Teu’s eyes briefly glanced up to see the vent grates back in place, she muttered under her breath. “I’m going to kill that kid when I see him next”

Guards surrounded her, she didn’t want to give up her comrades who were scampering around the air vents, tossed her gun to the ground, and she placed her hands on her head. She was indeed going to kill the boy once she got her hand on him. She clicked her mouth switching the channel on her commlink to one she shared privately with her husband, “I’m going to kill Kano’s apprentice when I see him next”

She cut the transmission as her hands where bound behind her back.

Somewhere in the back streets
Seng Karash

Lady Chessene fumed as she left Dastaris office. Laying low wasn’t something she was particularly fond of, and she was half tempted not too just so she could find some way to hurt him for the tricks he had pulled on her. She suppressed a scream while kicking a small stone out of her way and turning down one of the side streets.

Soolan followed Lady Chessene in the shadows, about 15 feet behind. She wasn’t sure what exactly Jade had overheard with her force tricks, but she had come to know the women and her instinct told her this was going to be an interesting night. As Lady Chessene turned down a side street Soolan frowned, it was going to be difficult to stay out of sight or blend in with less people around.

Lady Chessene looked up and stopped in her tracks for a moment when she saw Kelvert standing a few feet in front of her. She sighed and crossed her arms before continuing towards him. “Well at least he sent me protection in case this does go wrong.”

Soolan managed to cross the street and walk slower, drawing less attention to herself as she used a nearby building to concealed her slightly. As she walked, she saw Lady Chessene start to talk to Kelvert so she flicked a small switch on a bracelet around her wrist. The bracelet was an old brass colour that looked like it had been beaten and well loved over its life time, when really it hid a video camera. The microphone was very sensitive and she had no doubts her location would produce a high quality.

“Looks like Dastari can do something right after all!” She pushed passed Kelvert, “I can’t believe he set me up!”

Kelvert caught her wrist easily, spinning the singer around in her tracks, forcing her to look at him. “Oh something has gone wrong.”

Lady Chessene’s eyes widened. “He promised he would take care of this! Take care of me!”

Kelvert nodded, a smirk crossed his face, “He always takes care of his liabilities.”

Lady Chessene gasped but had no chance to scream. Kelvert expertly moved his hands to either side of her head and snapped her neck. Lady Chessene’s body fell limp to the ground. Kelvert looked around and Soolan ducked behind the building to hide. The video popping in and out, as she peeked around the building to catch the body guard move the body only slightly into the alleyway to hide it. Soolan then took a few running steps away, behind her hiding spot, before flicking off the video.

Walking back slowly she watched as Kelvert left the area before she opened her com and contacted Jade. “Jade...”

Jade flicked on her com and saw the small image of Soolan flicker in front of her. “Soolan, tell me you have good news.”

“I have great news! I got Kelvert murdering Lady Chessene on video.”

“That’s great! Bring it back and we’ll let the rest of them know we have something.”

“I’m on my way.” She ended the com link, double checking as she left her hiding spot before heading back to the C.A.R.E. Head Quarters.

Generator Two
Outside Seng Karash, Aeotheran

“Great, now the base is on full alert,” one of the team members piped up. Locke watched through the grate as Teu was escorted away and Malisane got on his comlink to communicate to one of their allies on the outside about it, probably Kano or Fremoc. The other member continued in a hushed, but angered tone. “Nice going kid, now they’re on alert.”

Locke interjected, raising a hand “there’s no time for that now, what’s done is done. We have a job to finish,” he paused and the other man started to pipe up again, “if you want to argue about it, argue when we get out of here.” Locke felt mixed feelings in Roxas; the Protector’s emotions were difficult to sort out.

As Malisane finished with the comlink, Locke watched two guards talking in the shower room below. “It’s weird to find a girl like that alone up here. Boss says there’s probably a team. We’ve dispatched groups to investigate the vents, in the meantime, stay here and watch this one.” With that, one guard saluted the other and the one that was speaking left, leaving the remainder guard to watch the shower room and the vent above.

“Did you hear that, Verdane?” Locke asked, turning back to Malisane.

“Yeah, now they’re on high alert and looking for us. We need to move fast. Everyone, keep your blasters ready, this is probably going to get ugly. Also, if we move quick enough, we might be able to rescue the girl before she gets shipped back to the city.” Leading by example, Malisane moved back through the vents, with Roxas right behind. Locke let the other members of the team follow them, before taking up the rear himself. They quietly crawled through the vents, until eventually they soon came to a T-intersection. Malisane turned left, and at the end he stopped at a vent exit. “Okay, according to the station’s schematics, this is a little-used storage room. Since the whole base is on high alert, there might still be guards, but we need to get out of these vents.”

Just then, there was a loud clang at the opposite end of the T-intersection. Locke turned back, readying his blaster. As soon as the guard’s head popped up, he fired, causing the man to drop back down with a loud sound. “I’d say you’ve got that right, “he whispered back to Malisane, who nodded and kicked the vent in on his end, dropping into the storage room. Locke waited until the group had all dropped out of the vent, before firing at the other exit a few more times and dropping down himself.

They found themselves in a small room, with boxes and storage cylinders rising to the ceiling all around them. Sure enough, it was a storage room. “Now we need to get that door open…” Malisane trailed off suddenly. Locke wondered what was going on, and he sensed it too, as did Roxas. There were men on the other side.

Realizing there was no way they could’ve known without the Force, the three simply waited a moment for the door to slide open. As soon as it did, they jumped out of the way, as if by instinct, as one of the other members of the team fell to a blaster shot. All three and the other others in the group fired back with their own weapons. Soon, the guards outside lay dead, and the group moved out of the storage room.

They heard footsteps running from down the hall in their general direction. “Come on, “Malisane started, waving the group away from the footsteps, “the maintence and control rooms are this way. If we can’t shut down the system, we’ll have to damage to damage it manually.” Following his lead, the group took off down the hallway, Locke jogging backward, waiting for the moment when more guards would round the corner behind them.

Outskirts of Generator Two
Outside Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Fremoc clutched his knife as he got closer to the Vornskr, knowing that it was slightly afraid of him. He manipulated the creatures instincts, calming it. On Corvanni IV he had read that cutting off the tail of a Vornskr reduced its primal instincts and made it more loyal and more of a guardian. There was a clearing in the brush where Fremoc found the Vornskr, laying on the ground. The Templar walked over to the creature and petted it calming the beast even more.

Quickly, Fremoc cut the tail off the Vornskr and held the creature down as it writhed in pain. He sent healing waves of the Force into the beast stopping the pain and the blood. The Vornskr stopped writhing and eased to the Quaestor's touch. The Templar rose and walked back to his perch with Kano as the Vornskr followed tentatively.

"Kano, what's the status?" Fremoc said on their secure channel.

"Looks okay from here. How's that beast?" Fremoc laid down next to Kano as the Vornskr sat behind them.

"Well, I think it likes me."

"Great just what we need."

"Hey, will be nice to have a dog." The two chuckled but where silenced by a disturbing message from Fremoc's wife Teu.

“I’m going to kill Kano’s apprentice when I see him next.”

"Frak. That's not good," said Fremoc.

"What?" replied Kano.

"Teu's introuble." Fremoc reached out in the Force and touched his wife. He could feel her surrounded by guards. He brought Methyas onto the secure channel between himself and Kano, "Vode, where is my wife?"

"There's about 12 guards surrounding her, and are pretty close to that wall," said Methyas over the comm.

Fremoc in his black and green armor looked to his former apprentice, "Breach and clear?"

"Amen, vode." The two stood up, quickly checking their weapons and armor. "Sprint to the wall, place a shape charge, bang through, and kill 'em. Let's do this."

"I'll drop in from above where you guys will enter."

The Vornskr had stood and looked anxious as if it knew they were going to go hunting. "Stay," Fremoc said with enough force to get the point across, making the creature sit back down. He looked over to Kano and nodded. Without another word or gesture the two sprinted towards the generator building as fast as they could. It took them several minutes to clear the forrest, and reaching the wall that Teu was closest too.

"I see you two on my radar, your right where you need to be," said Methyas.

Fremoc placed the shaped charge on the wall, and set the detonator on it for a couple of seconds. Kano was across from Fremoc a safe distance from the explosion.

BOOOOOOOOOM

The two Templars held their weapons close as the explosion rocked the building. The rushing sound of air filled the hole, as the two different air pressures equalized. Time slowed down as Fremoc and Kano turned their corresponding corners of the large hole.

Generator Two
Outside of Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Between the Force and his electronic "sonar" system, the chaos below was daunting but not enough to scare the Knight as the two Templar caught the men off guard. The instant the charge had blown through the wall the various sirens and klaxons sounded, the installation had been designed not to take this sort of warfare and the Mandalorians knew with all hell broken loose already between the small group of insurgants that it would be easier for their objective to be completed with attention drawn away from the vital points of the facility. Taking a deep breath the Miraluka Mandalorian calmed himself as his adrenaline started pumping, a quick push from his feet tossing him through the open portion of the ventilation Teu had not passed through mere seconds before. A quick draw of his pistol and Westar and the Aedile began to open fire in tandum with his allies, the flash and crashes of the weapons could bearly be heard over the sounds of the security systems whailing about a "complex breach". As the Aedile rolled through the air he could hear one of the men calling for back-up as the three men contended with the unsuspecting guards. Landing roughly he could feel the presence of the other Mandalorians near him before the Commando shouted out, "Form up!"

As the guards began to regroup outside the chamber, Fremoc gruffly barked over their secure channel, "Where's my wife?!"
Methyas felt out as quickly as he could, knowing Fremoc would be doing the same; a bond between Master and student was a powerful one that would stay with him forever as he sought her distinct signature, "They're shaken and trying to find a way to get her to a secure area while they deal with us...I suggest reloading if you need to and finding some cover."
With silent nods the trio moved as a couple of stragglers dove out of the vents, caught between the firefight of the other group and their own. As Methyas rose to his feet he quickly checked his magazine in his NR2, switching channel's to speak with the rest of the Voice of Justice, "They already know we're here so we'll draw their attention on us while you guys complete your task. We'll find a way to meet with you if we survive this, Arc out."

Switching back to the channel for the three of them, the Knight shrugged his shoulders as he leveled his pistol and removed a spherical device from his belt, "Guess we fight for family today, hukaat'kama ner vode."
With a sudden crash the doors flew open again and the firefight continued, the newcomers holding their own but those closer to the door were ultimately mowed down by the superior training of the Dlarit security. With a quick prime the sphere in his hand started chirping, a small smile spreading across his face as he tossed the destructive orb into the fray, "Time to make some noise!"

With another earthshaking thud the detonator cleared a path, before more Dlarit personnel started to take their place and the killbox starting to grow as floodlights began to illuminate the complex behind the trio. Through the Force they could feel soldiers of Dlarit moving to flank them as the members of the Voice of Justice fell around them, the vehicles and foot soliders were more than enough to keep them on edge. With a sudden grumble from the three, Kano spoke up first, "Push for the hallway! We're sitting ducks out here!"
With yet another silent nod the three started their push, opting for their automatic weapons compared to pistols; Methyas pushing forward with his NR3 quietly and quickly dispatching the guards before him with a ratta-tat-tat. Rolling into the corridor the Aedile grumbled to himself as both his sonar and reaching out in the Force resulted in a higher concentration of enemies in the corridors than he had anticipated, "How much fodder do we have left with us?!"
Quickly the other two Mando's responded, "They're thinning..."

The firefight continued, klaxons blaring amongst the gunfire and explosions as the interior was bathed in flashing red lights blending with the traditional lighting; knives and any weapons at their disposal were being used by both sides of the fight as the corridors began to disolve slowly from bullets missing their mark or bodies shoved roughly into them. Ducking behind a corner, Methyas took quick count of his remaining ammo and gear, snatching another detonator from his belt before ducking out to lob it into the midst of bodies again. Cocking his arm back, the Knight felt a bolt strike his chest, arm and thigh before the grenade lazily lobbed towards it's target. Cursing as he returned to cover he felt the pain amongst his adrenaline, eyes narrowing before leaning out for another assault with his SMG only to feel the brunt of another series of rounds walking up his body from his waist to his shoulder.

Falling on his ass from the impact, the Miraluka cursed as he felt a strong hand pull him out of the line of fire, the worried tone of Kano's voice shouting through his headset as he was tossed against a wall, "You alright?!"
Methyas knew he was in a good deal of pain but couldn't show it with the few survivors with them, "It's just a flesh wound, I'll live...give me something to shoot."

Generator Two
Outside of Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Kano slammed Methyas against the wall out of the sight of the Dlarit guards and without looking fired several more shots from his Westar around the corner. Fremoc had his back to the wall on the other side of the hall entrance and glanced over at the Aedile sitting on the floor before going back to shooting. A familiar click sounded inside all three helmets as Kano spoke out.

"Methyas, stay here and keep this corner clear. Fremoc, once you hear the signal get into that room and get Teu."

Fremoc's voice came over the private comm channel with a hint of adrenaline pushing the words out.
"Get on it Vode."

Kano turned his back to his brothers and ran down an empty hall. The HUD inside the T-shaped visor had the schematics for the plant and he was just doors away from what he was looking for. As he kicked the door in a skinny power tech stood up and let out a scream. Kano's conscience said that killing the man would be wrong but the higher the body count the more the public would hate the VoJ. Kano drew out his Westar-34 and sent 3 bolts into the mans chest. As the Mandalorian walked over to the control panels for the entire generator he opened comms with the VoJ team.

"Kano here, I have reached the main controls. Get the team out now. The Dlarit guards alerted more than just their local security. We have 2 shuttles on the way and they are full of well trained soldiers. I need concentration for what I am about to do so no communication until with me until everyone is out. Verda Out"

Kano closed the channel and reconnected with Fremoc and Methyas.

"Y'all ready for this?"

Both men yelled back in unison.

"Get on with it."

Kano plugged a small wire from his helmet into the control panels and began what he was there for. Instantly the wailing of the speakers around the generator stopped and were replaced with a pleasant voice delivering a disturbing message. "Please evacuate. Self-destruct imminent."

Kano heard his brother's voices let out hushed swears at the sound of the new alarm.

"Fremoc, now would be the time. Get her the hell outta there."

Suddenly the door behind Kano burst open and several blaster bolts hit the Templar in the chest. Kano fell back and rolled over the top of the control panels. The attacker ran to the panels and looked down over the edge to see a Westar pointing upward. The flash was the last thing the guard ever saw.

"Kano, package was retrieved. Lets bang out."

Kano hit a button on the control panel and another calm voice echoed over the speakers. "Destruction in 10 seconds."

As the Mandalorian released the button he ran for the a window in the far wall. With a dive he crashed through the window only to land next to Fremoc and Teu helping Methyas cross the open ground. Teu looked as Kano climbed to his feet and ran to catch up with them.

"I get captured and it starts raining Mandos, now isn't that special."

"Wait for the fireworks" Said Kano with a grin hidden under his helmet.

Behind the four a series of explosions began to tear through the building. As the group made it to a stone ditch and took cover the building let out a low rumble and then exploded. A shockwave knocked trees around in all directions. Bits of flaming debris crashed around in various places. Kano opened the comms with the rest of the VoJ team.

"I am sure that took the power down so mission complete. Did everyone make it out?"

Generator 2 Ruins
Aeotheran

It was chaos. As the smoke covered the area Malisane lead Teu, Locke and Roxas through the area. He was furious. There was no sign of Deliverance or her core Voice of Justice members, leaving the Sadow's and a few other scattered new recruits scattered around the area. Presumably Deliverance had taken the shuttle with her along with Gavroche and Carolides. The Battlelord spied the three destructors through the smoke, Kano with the Quaestor and the Aedile. They looked pleased with themselves. "Wait here," Malisane ordered then walked over. He regarded Fremoc cooly. "A word with you Quaestor."
Fremoc nodded. "Alright." Methyas and Kano watched while Malisane lead the Templar out of sight into the trees.
"Well?" Fremoc asked removing his helmet and turning to face the Battlelord. He fell to the ground a Malisane's armoured fist smashed into his chin, hitting the floor and rolling. In shock he reached for his blaster and Malisane stepped forcefully on his hand.
"What the hell do you think you just did?" Malisane asked coldly.
Fremoc struggled to rise but the Sadow pinned him with the force. "We achieved our objective," he replied, "Deliverance and her band are finished now. The citizens will be in uproar."
"The plan was to disable the generator temporarily you fool," Malisane snarled, "to cause disruption. You've just blown the power on the entire mining network, probably for months. Millions of credits of production lost, added to the cost of rebuilding that thing. And worst of all Deliverance and her followers have run leaving us here!"
"We can find them," the Quaestor replied, "Marakith can track the shuttle."
Malisane's eyes bore into the Quaestor's face. He could happily kill the Templar here and now and the Consul and the Overlord would accept his decision. However right now the Clan's stability was more important He nodded. "You'd better hope so. If not I imagine your career and your life will come to an abrupt end." He stepped backwards and Fremoc pushed himself up. "Signal for a transport. We may as well regroup at Marakith until we find where she's gone."
Fremoc nodded. "Very well."

Marakith
Seng Karash

Dyrra and Sai watched the news reports grimmly. The media were in uproar, even the ones usually opposed to Dlarit.. The mining network was shut down, trains on the monirails stood still. Power from Generator One under the city was being diverted to provide emergency lighting and heating in the facilities outside the city and the drain was placing a hard strain on the city's own power. Dyrra as Governor had issued an emergency statement to appeal for calm and to announce that Dlarit Security was now hunting the Voice of Justice. Ships and shuttles from the spaceport had been despatched across the planet to bring stranded miners and train passengers across the continent back to the city, and though not going as far as declaring a curfew the police presence on the streets had been stepped up to deal with any unrest. Dyrra had also announced plans to begin construction of a replacement generator and temporary measures to restore some of the network.

Dyrra sat back thoughtfully. "Not what we intended but I think we've contained it."
Sai nodded. "I'll speak to the Consul. We can take Deliverance down now. Thanks to the measures you've put in place I doubt anyone in the city would object. What about Dastari?"
"Jade has sent us the recording. I suggest we wait until this has died down then released it and announce we want this Kelvert and Dastari for questioning."
The Pro Consul nodded. "Very well."

Warehouse 5-C
Seng Karash
Aeotheran

The last dissident fell to the ground with a dull thump as Manji stepped backwards, lowering his fist. He'd struck like lightning as the Voice of Justice sympathizers moved towards the Warehouse, surging in from their left side and taking two men down before they quite realised what had happened. No sabers, though; he hadn't wanted to leave any marks on the bodies that could incriminate Dlarit. Looking up, the Pontifex straightened as another shadowy figure moved towards him- a stranger who had emerged from the darkness of the night to assist him in bringing down the dissidents. Suddenly a shaft of light from the Warehouse's lights illuminated the figure's face. Manji's jaw dropped open.

"...Ylith?"

Silently, the Valheru nodded. Manji shook his head as he grinned, reaching out to shake the Battlemaster's hand.

"Damn, man, I haven't seen you in an age. Thanks for the help with these guys, by the way."

"No problem, Manji. What's our next step?"

Scratching his chin, the Pontifex looked down at the fallen dissidents with a thoughtful expression.

"I figure we need a way to make it look like Dlarit caught these guys in the act and stopped them. Shouldn't be too tricky, let me just..."

Crouching down by the fallen leader of the group, Manji slipped a DL-44 blaster out of a holster at the man's belt. Striding towards a small door leading into the warehouse, the Pontifex tapped in his Dlarit access code and stepped inside as the door slid open. His good eye peering through the gloom inside the warehouse, Manji found what he was looking for and took aim- at the nearest food silo. A few carefully-aimed shots screamed off the outside of the silo, leaving a number of easily-visible scorch marks.

Moving back outside the warehouse, the Pontifex slipped the DL-44 blaster back into the leader's hand then stepped back and reached for his commlink with a grin. A secure channel opened up and Darla's voice responded.

"Yes, Keibatsu-dono?"

"Have a nice, sizable detachment of Dlarit troopers sent down to Warehouse 5-C, would you? And make sure they have the media with them. I want the whole of Seng Karash to see how our noble Dlarit Troopers have saved their food supplies from Deliverance's goons."

Manji could hear the smirk sneaking across Darla's face as she responded, sounding pleased.

"Of course, Keibatsu-dono. Would you like a report on the Generator Two situation?"

"No need, Darla; I'm sure Malisane or Sai will report before long."

As the comm. channel clicked shut, Manji glanced at Ylith with a chuckle.

"Right, old chum... time to get these unconscious bodies into the warehouse and lay a few more clues around the place. Should all work out nicely. Grab that one's arms..."

Dilapidated Shuttlebus
Rapidly heading away from Generator Two, Aeotheran

Deliverance was furious. The Voice of Justice leader picked up one of the rifles that had been tossed into the back of the shuttle . . . then crushed it in her bare hands. Well, Robert hadn’t been expecting that—humans, especially females, didn’t usually have the natural strength to twist metal. He kept his eyes straight ahead, pretending look at the swiftly disappearing treetops out the rear viewport, but in the corner of his eye watched Deliverance ground the assault rifle into a small, buckled cube.

Slowly, Gavroche crept up next to Deliverance. ‘Er, Delive, are you okay, babe?’

The woman shot a look of raw murder at him. ‘NO! I AM NOT OKAY!’ Gavroche quickly took four steps back—hitting the wall of the shuttlebus during a fifth. Deliverance threw an accusatory finger at the man. ‘How can I be okay when EVERYTHING we have spent the past year working towards just went up in karking smoke? So no. I am most kriffing certainly not okay!’

Rob saw Gavroche swallow; he actually felt sorry for the man. This entire op had been a con. He knew it. The Mandalorians had known it. But Deliverance and the Voice of Justice? They’d been used. Used by the darksiders who now held this star system sway. Robert had felt it in the Mandalorians; felt it in the one calling himself Verdane; he felt it everywhere. The entire planet stank of them.

Usurpers.

Robert Rowaan looked over his shoulder at Deliverance, who was still glaring daggers at Gavroche, who in turn appeared uncertain whether even to move. ‘I have a suggestion,’ Rob said calmly.

Deliverance swung her head around toward him. ‘And what is this high and mighty suggestion, you have, Robert? What have YOU contributed to our stand against corruption so far?’ She spat on the floor of the shuttlebus. ‘Far as I can tell, you’ve been little more than just another hired thug out for himself, ready to stab me in the back at the first opportunity like all the rest.’

Rob turned around and narrowed his sole remaining eye on the woman. He allowed himself a smile behind his scarf, which as usual was wrapped around the lower half of his face, covering his mouth. He breathed a laugh. ‘It’s more a question I have for you,’ he asked, allowing a hint of mockery to seep into his voice.

Deliverance’s eyes glowered at him, her pupils seeming to narrow . . . elongating as if part reptile. Then, as quickly as they had distorted, her pupils settled back into a more natural spherical shape.

As he thought.

She was not human.

At least, not in the conventional sense.

‘Well, out with it,’ she spat, her temper visibly boiling to the surface, her cheeks inflaming as the blood surged to her head. Rob allowed her to seethe for a moment, savouring the waves of anger she was pumping out. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to drink of the dark side.

Hiding around the usurpers . . . he had been forced to suppress his true self.

Just as it would seem Deliverance had forever suppressed hers. Not that she was Force-sensitive, no—anything from it. He was not sure what she was . . . only that it was more than man, more than the product of natural selection. Indeed, it echoed the beast they had encountered in the forest.

It was primal.

A hunter.

‘What do you know of your parents?’ he asked quietly.

Her eyebrows narrowed further still into a frown. ‘What does that possibly have to do with anything?’ When he didn’t reply, she cursed but continued anyway. ‘I—I grew up on Varenon. My parents were scientists.’ She waited for his response. ‘I fail to see the point in this.’

Of course she did. She had no idea. ‘Well, what if I told you are not what your parents said you were.’

She looked seconds from tearing his head off—and he had no doubt she was capable of doing so. ‘What?! How dare you! How dare you profess to know anything about me!’

He laughed out loud. ‘Ah, yes—the woman who hides behind a charade. Who is afraid even to reveal her real name. What can anyone know about her beyond the character she portrays? The great crusader for justice, she who shall deliver liberty to those left forgotten by the Yuuzhan Vong War. What can an outsider such as I who has only known her for a few weeks possibly know?’

‘Out with it,’ she snarled.

Well, here it goes... ‘What if I were to tell you, you were not conceived of your mother’s womb after all? That you are more than you’ve been led to believe? That you are . . . greater?’ He pulled back his scarf, exposing his face for the first time—in all the months he’d spent living among the refugees, never had he revealed his appearance.

The collective gasp confirmed his true identity had indeed successfully remained hidden. Well, the identity they thought he was, put it that way; the truth was more than they could possibly begin to comprehend. Nor did he plan to explain it to them. He only needed them to remember who they were fighting against. And it was not themselves.

‘You!’ Gavroche barked, pulling his blaster on him. ‘We’ve been had!’ He glanced at Deliverance, awaiting the order to fire. ‘You’ve been awful stupid showing your face, Dlarit scum. You must think you’re real smart.’ He looked at Deliverance again. ‘Delive? What’s going on?’

As Robert had hoped, Deliverance didn’t move. Her face seemed to be frozen by the half-revelation she had just been told. When she finally spoke, her voice was practically a whisper, trembling. ‘What . . . what do you mean I wasn’t born naturally?’

Robert grinned smugly. The woman paraded herself as a pariah . . . but she was driven by the loss of her brother. Loss so evidently fuelled her life. It hadn’t taken much to guess there was something in her past that had brought her here.

And the Dark Side had a will. He had simply taken a gamble . . . and it’d played off.

It hadn’t hurt that he had firsthand experience of her dilemma.

‘I can’t answer that fully,’ he confessed, the sympathy in his voice genuine. ‘But there is something about you. I know it. I can feel it.’ He didn’t need to say he was Force-sensitive for her to buy that there were some things you sometimes just knew. He glanced at Gavroche. ‘He knows it, too, I’m sure.’

Gavroche looked back at him, confusing spreading across the man’s face. ‘I don’t know what the hell you mean,’ he growled.

Robert smirked. ‘I think you do.’ He nodded down at the crushed rifle. ‘Do you think any normal human being could have done that?’ Gavroche shrugged. ‘You may indulge in muscle building narcotics . . . but even steroids aren’t going to give you that super human strength.’ He looked back at Deliverance. ‘I don’t know what you are. But you are unique . . . and that makes you special.’

Her expression softened slightly, though the underlying rage remained. ‘Special?’ she whispered.

He nodded.

‘I’m special . . .’ she said again, looking out the window at the jungle passing underneath them.

Robert could only guess what Carolides must have been thinking up in the cockpit; he would surely have heard every word of their discussion. Perhaps the Trandoshan already suspected something about his employer? Or perhaps he knew what she was? There was more to this conspiracy than met the eye, Robert was certain of it.

‘Delive . . . you aren’t seriously buying this schutta are you?’

‘Shut up, Gavroche!’ she snapped. ‘Special . . .’ She pulled her eyes away from the viewport and back to Robert again, her usual fierce resolve restored to normal. ‘I think it’s time Dlarit finally got a taste of their own medicine.’ She snorted a laugh. ‘Yes. It’s time everyone learnt just how special I can be.’

Gavroche looked on, uneasy, while in the rear of the hold Robert swallowed a laugh. Yes. The Dark Side had a will alright. And it was not on the side of the usurpers.

C.A.R.E Headquarters
Seng Karash

"The footage you are seeing, though shocking in it's nature, clearly reveals the identity of the murderer. At around Nine PM tonight the popular local entertainer Lady Chessene was attacked and killed by this man, Lars Kelvert, Head of Security for Ven Dastari, spokesperson for the CARE campaign, shown here accompanying Dastari on one of his many rallys in The Park. The Dlarit Police have revealed that a few hours earlier the singer was helping them with their enquiries into information received that she was helping someone smuggle materials, possibly weapons to the Voice of Justice, the group responsible for over two hundred deaths in the Kappa Mine train disaster, and also believed to be responsible for the destruction of Generator Two. They have refused to comment about speculation of Dastari's involvement in the smuggling but are believed to be interested in asking him about it."
"Turn it off!" Dastari snapped. He turned to Kelvert. "How were you seen?"
The tall man shrugged. "I have no idea, someone must have been following. Maybe the police."
Dastari paused. "Out, everyone, now!"

Jade and Soolin shared a quick look as Dastari and the other security types herded the volunteers out of the room. Dastari waited until the door was shut leaving him alone with Kelvert. He walked over to a large screen and tapped in a sequence on the keypad next to it. He waited while the signal was scrambled.
The screen remained dark but a voice that was not easily identifed as male or female or even human addressed them. "Well?"
"I need a way out," Dastari said quickly, "it's over the Dlarit Police are coming for me. I can't use the shuttleport."
"I see," the reply came, "what about Deliverance?"
"She's also blown," Dastari replied, "she's lost it or she's screwed up. She's blown up a train and a power station."
"We are aware of that," the voice replied, "be assured we have access to the news channels."
"Anyway she's useless now, she doesn't matter."
"Retrieval of Deliverance is essential Mister Dastari. You will find her. Only then will we retrieve you both."
"I'm at risk here, I want out." Dastari was sweating now.
"Let us make this clear Mister Dastari. You were hired for your ability to compose and deliver rabble rousing speeches and look the part. Up until now you have performed this abmirably. You are not however worth a hundredth of the value of Deliverance to our cause. You will find her or we will decide we no longer have a use for you. Do you understand?"
Dastari sagged. "Very well." He didn't underestimate the threat.
"There is a shuttle in a hangar underneath the building you are in, Mister Kelvert will show you the way. You will take it and you will use it. It does not however have an interplanetary ability. We would not wish you to have any ideas about leaving. Goodbye Mister Dastari."

Dastari followed Kelvert down the corridor, accompanied by two more of their enhanced guards "We have to hurry."
"I'm aware of that," Kelvert replied harshly, "it's this way."
"Hold it there Dastari!" a voice snapped. They turned. Jade and Soolin were stood at an intersecting corridor, both holding blasters.
"Kill them!" Dastari shouted and the two guards dropped into firing poses and pulled the triggers. Jade reached out and hit one with the force, pushing him back hard against the wall hitting it with a thud. Soolin shot the second guard in the chest and grimaced as the bolt burned through his clothing and skin to reflect off his dermal plating. She dodged as a returning blast narrowly missed her head then leapt forward, kicking out and catching the guard in the side of the head. The first guard was on his feet and leapt for Jade, swinging out with his fist. She raised her hand and blocked then lashed out again with the force, sending waves of pain through his body that ought to have felled a normal human but with a combination of his designer steroids and cybernetics he managed to resist. The second guard was fighting with Soollin, aiming powerful strikes at the Knight who fought back using all her training to counter her powerfully enhanced opponent. Finally Jade raised a hand at her opponent hitting him with a force blast and he fell down. Soolin kicked the legs out from her opponent then pulled her blaster to her with telekinesis, then aimed it straight between his eyes as he quickly rose, blasting a hole through his head.
Jade quickly moved to follow Dastari and Kelvert but the corridor was empty, and she could sense them underground somewhere. "Damn."
Soolin pushed her blaster into her belt. She was examining her opponents corpse, taking out a knife and digging around in his body with it. "I've seen this stuff before," she commented, "Macron Sadow brought back a couple of Drastig's people from Refuge. They were destroyed though."
Jade shrugged. "We may as well go back to Marakith. There's nothing left here."

About a hundred metres from the city wall a sleek black shuttle took off, flying low over the ground to avoid detection. On board Dastari was half terrfied but mostly angry. "Kelvert why the hell didn't I know about this?"
The man shrugged looking ahead. "I wasn't told to tell you."
Dastari looked out of the window. The remaining ten guards were sat around silently, avoiding the conversation. Dastari looked back at Kelvert. "Contact Carolides, find out where she's going."
Kelvert nodded. "Very well."

Generator 2 Ruins
Aeotheran

The group of Dark Jedi entered a LAATi gunship that headed straight for the Marakith Skyhook. As it rushed to the Skyhook, the trio of Mandalorians began to patch each other's wounds up. Methyas having the worst wounds, since the bolts had gone straight through his armor. Kano and Fremoc only had scratches and bruises. One bruise no one knew about was the one forming on his chin from Malisane. It didn't take long to get to the skyhook, but no one noticed since everyone was quiet. Mostly were eying the vornskr that Fremoc had brought with them and didn't want to make it angry.

The team exited in silence, Malisane and Teu heading towards the command center where Dyrra and Tsainetomo where at. Roxas followed Fremoc and Kano as they helped Methyas towards the infirmary. The vornskr was by Fremoc the whole time and would growl slightly as Roxas got too close. A medical technician and his assistant helped Methyas to a gurney as Kano and Fremoc entered the room. With his helmet still on Fremoc made a quick call down to his apprentice in Seng Karash.

"How's it going down there Araxis?"

"You missed the bar fight and some other stuff. Nothing major. Sarconn and I are having fun," said Araxis.

"Sounds good, we are above you. Stay safe." With those words he cut off the transmission. Fremoc pulled off his helmet as Kano did the same, and watched the technicians take off Methyas' armor to get to his wounds.

"Hey what channel do you guys use, so I can be on it?" said Roxas. Kano began to chuckle at his own apprentice.

"Your not ready for it," said Kano and Fremoc at the same time and walked out the room.

Medical Facilities
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran Aerospace

It had been a bit of a painful journey from their escape to where he sat now, the gurney was not the most comfortable spot in the chamber and the medical staff weren't making life any easier as they tried to remove his armour. With a couple of harsh words and serveral profanities hurled towards the unfortunate staff, Methyas had managed to convince them to allow him to removed the armour himself to prevent injury to themselves. With a series of pained grunts, numerous signals to stand back and a succession of snapped clasps the lightweight durasteel plates covering the Miraluka's chest feel to the decking with a hollow clang.

It didn't take long after the removal of the breastplate for the medical staff to jump him a quick couple of jabs with various syringes to dull the pain and dull the Aedile's senses allowed them to ease him back onto the gurney so they could do their job. As they worked to ensure the damage wasn't too extensive and to clean the wounds for bacta treatments they asked him to relax, hoping their sedatives and painkillers would kick in quickly to allow them to work without interuption. As his headspun, all Methyas could do is as he was told. His mind instinctively starting into a state of meditation, a defencive instinct as much as habit, his body and thoughts following the guided path laid out before him by the medication of the medical team.

A deep meditative trance, one that would help accelerate his healing while they worked and one he had done before when his wounds were this great. Yet this time was different, as he mind had slipped in Tent City so too did it here; the medical staff treated to the Medical chambers becoming a varitable oasis about them. The illusion was stunning, but flawed as the young Knight had yet to master the illusive technique; portions of the medical facilities plating shining through the sand and ocean below them while cabinets and equipment stuck out of trees and various fauna.

Seng Karash
Aeotheran

"Mesa so happy yousa wanted mesa help. Generator will be needed to be keeping the people safe and happy; needs to be bombad bigger, stronger and sturdier than the last one." Rayfor stated as he bowed and thanked every person at the table around him. The Gungan stood before a team of Dlarit officials, volunteers and anyone else that want to be involved in the clean-up and reconstruction of the Generator following the events. He had donned his best clothes to ensure he would be taken seriously and it had payed off, he had been selected as one of many engineers to head the project to design and build the new generator when the time came. It would be a long time from now, but it secured him a better, more secure and financially greater job than what he currently had as a contractor. With a smile he bowed and thanked everyone present once more before returning to his seat to listen to what the current plans for the investigation and clean-up of the current wreckage would be.

Medical Facilities
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran Aerospace

"Sir?.....Sir?......Can you hear us?" The nurse chimed in, tapping his left shoulder lightly in hopes of rousing the Aedile from his meditation.
With a deep exhale the Knight spoke up, "I can hear you just fine although your drugs are sure powerful..."
A slight smile crossed her lips before she spoke again, "You seem to be an excelent blaster sponge for someone of your rank, luckily for you they were mostly non-lethal and that flimsy piece of durasteel you call armour absorbed most of it."
With furrowing brows Methyas opened his mouth to retort before she spoke again, "It was well design though as it seems to have deflected a good deal of the energy in the bolts. Near your shoulder here..." She paused for a moment to press a finger near the wound for a small spark of pain, "appears to be mostly the top layers of skin and will be healed by the end of the day if you keep relaxing."
A small laugh escaped her as the thought seemed to amuse her before she continue, "Likewise near the bottom of your ribcage seems to be mostly superficial, the most pressing injury is here..." With another pause she pressed near the wound in his gut, a slight squishing sound as the partially open wound threatened to expel more fluids, "...and it's only being held together by a couple of bacta patches, whatever you were doing and a series of tightly bound wraps."

Methyas waited for a second to make sure she was finished, she was obviously more than a simple nurse and making a special note to be more careful of where he were to tap into the Force, he spoke up, "I assume that means I have you to thank for this and you'd like me to stay here with you?"
She giggled again as she seemed to work with a datapad the Knight had overlooked, "As much as you're an interesting specimen, if your medical records are anything to go by I'll see you back here within a day or two. Besides, you're not really my type, you're free to explore the station just don't leave."
With a slight frown Methyas rose slowly to a seated position on the gurney before speaking, "Too bad, you seem to be good with tender spots. Hope your SoG boys are good at their jobs or I may be here sooner than a day or two."

With a quick leap to his feat, and a series of sharp pains to inform him of how stupid it was to do that, Methyas started towards the door as the woman seemed to laugh. As he left he could feel her checking him out as she absently worked with her datapad.

Main Observatory
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran Aerospace

As the Aedile entered the chamber slowly it was somewhat easy to tell the drugs still had a slight hold on him, his movements wavering as he entered to see Fremoc, Kano and Roxas cleaning and preparing their gear. The Templars nodded to him as he entered, eyeing him with uneasy minds as the bandages seemed to cover his entire upper body and he physically exuded pain through the Force. Roxas turned to look at his Aedile before speaking, "Dude...you don't look too good."
Quickly angry glares were directed at Kano's apprentice as the Templar smacked him in the back of the head, "Don't you think he knows that?"
With a slight smirk and a weak laugh the Miraluka spoke up, "So, what's the plan?"

Dlarit Beach
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

The shuttle touched down on one of the lawns between two empty villlas. They'd got in easier than expected, flying low over the ocean to avoid detection and Dlarit seemed to have pulled the island's fighter cover back to the city in the light of the recent terrorist attacks to defend there.
"It's perfect," Deliverance said happily as she strode down the ramp, "they'd never expect an attack here."
"That's understandable," Robert replied dubiously, "this is hardly a strategic target. By all accounts it's a holiday resort."
"It's Dlarit's private little holiday resort," she replied, "a sign of their corporate decadence, nice private place where they lay in the sun without having to meet or see inconvienient poor people. If we hit them here it will jar their complacency, and hurt their pride." She turned around suddenly. "Do any of you doubt me?"
Gavroche stepped back hurriedly, seeing the intensity in her eyes. "No of course not." He glanced at Carolides. The Trandoshan was stood impassively, his face unreadable.
Robert shrugged. "We'll do it your way. Do you have the ordinance?"
"It's on it's way," Carolides replied for her. "ETA ten minutes they had to be careful, someone hit one of our warehouses in Tent City but fortunaltey not the one we needed."
She smiled, turning away from them. "I think a villa will do. That one looks empty."
Gavroche walked over and examined the entrance. It was heavily steel sheeted, and seemed to have been empty for a while. "Pretty good security. Might take a while to get in."
Deliverance strode to join him, ran a hand over the metal sheeting, then found the outside of it and pulled, a sound of ripping metal filling the air and she carelessly tossed it aside.
"Or maybe not," Robert said in amusement.
"Inside quickly," Deliverance ordered.

"You have the co-ordinates?" Dastari asked nervously.
Kelvert nodded, "Carolides has activated his tracer, we can pinpoint them exactly."
"Good." He sat back in his chair, watching the agent thoughtfully. Kelvert had changed since the conversation with their employers. He was more confident, and more assertive, now giving only a thin pretence to follow Dastari's orders. He glanced around at the enhanced agents sat quietly in their seats and felt a stab of nervousness. How long would he live if he failed?
"We're coming into land now," the pilot reported over the speaker.
"What can you see down there?" Kelvert asked quickly.
"A couple of concealed shuttles show up on the sensors," the man replied, "the tracer is in a villa nearby."
"Take us down nearby." Kelvert ordered, "we'll move in on foot we don't want to alarm her."
Dastari glowered at being ignored but said nothing.

Once on the ground the small team made their way through the area through the villas. It was mid day and hardly anyone was on the streets, the weather was blazing hot and many were either seeking shelter or were lying by their pools. Whatever guards were in the area were nowhere to be seen. Security seemed to have been lifted. Kelvert had sent two men ahead to scout and they quietly moved foward, keeping an eye out for any of the black armoured guards.
"There," Kelvert said following a signal from one of the scouts, "that villa."
Dastari looked at it. It looked dark inside, but he could just make out a few armed VOJ guards in the windows. Deliverance had clearly called in reinforcements. "Let me go in"
Kelvert turned to him curiously. "Why just you?"
"We don't want to spook her," he replied, "I can persuade her."
"Very well, but we'll be listening in, keep your transmitter on, and don't get any ideas."
"I don't need your advice Kelvert," Dastari snapped.

The man walked forward, keeping in sight of the windows, trying to look nonchalant. One of the guards poked his head out of a window, blaster rifle trained on Dastari. "Who are you?"
Dastari took a deep breath, "Ven Dastari, I'm here to see Deliverance." He paused a few seconds, another rifle was aimed at him, while the first guard ducked inside.
A few seconds later he was motioned inside. He entered the villa. He was immedialtey met by two armed guards, who searched him roughly, before he was shown to a room at the rear of the villa. He gave Carolides a quick glance as the trandoshan left the room, but Carolides meerly indicated he should enter.
Inside she sat behind a desk, He blanched as he looked at her. She had an intensity on her face he'd never seen before. She studied him, rising to her feet. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
He took a deep breath, "I could ask the same thing," he replied slowly, "what have you been doing recently? Destroying trains full of passengers and blowing up power stations was not in our plans. You have turned the city against us."
An annoyance burned in her face, and he stepped back. "I was betrayed," she replied, "Dlarit infiltrators. They have done this."
"They will come for you now Deliverance," he replied, "you are hiding here?"
She laughed, "Of course not," she replied in amusement, "here I strike at them."
He glanced back into the main room. From below he could hear the sounds of machinery. "What are you doing?"
"The device you gave me," she replied, "the one you said was only for emergencies. I will make use of it here."
He raised an eyebrow. "What is the point, we've failed. We must leave."
"No," she replied, "when it is in place we will leave, but I will watch this place burn. When the device explodes under this villa the shockwave will send Dlarit Beach, the rich private third of this island into the ocean. They drill deep."

He studied her. "You have changed Deliverance."
She nodded. "I know, though I am still trying to understand."
He took a deep breath. "I have been sent to bring you off this planet," he replied, "by people who want you."
"Want me?" she demanded, "I am no ones property."
"They insist," he replied, "you must come with me!"
She walked over to him. "Who insists?"
"I can not say," he replied, "only that they know you. What you are."
Her eyes bored into his, a sudden hunger appearing on her face. "And what am I?" she asked, the past few days confusion and discovery coming to a head. She had to know.
"I do not know!" he replied quickly.
She snarled. "You lie!" She reached out and her deceptively powerful fist gripped his neck. She lifted him easily, struggling in her grip. "You found me Dastari, you recruited me, you persuaded me to set up the Voice of Justice. You have the answers. Now tell me! What am I? Who wants me? Who?"
"I don't know!" he gasped helplessly as he scrabbled against her iron grip.
"You lie!"
"No!" Gavroche shouted in horror from nearby as she carried the struggling Dastari across the main room."Deliverance don't"
"He lies to me!" she roared, "he has done this to me. Used me!" She snarled and threw Dastari across the room, where he hit the wall hard, his skull cracking. His body slid to the floor, leaving a smear of blood and crushed brains on the wall. Gavroche turned and ran from the villa, past the stunned guards. She watched him go. Then turned to the amused Robert who was stood nearby. "Well?"
"Nothing," he replied studying her curiously.
"I am surrounded by fools! Does no one have an answer for me?"

"Yes, a voice came from the doorway and she spun around. Kelvert stood in the doorway. He and his guards had quietly slipped inside and were covering them with blasters, her own guards backing off. Kelvert glanced at Carolides and nodded. "He spoke the truth. He did not know. The people he worked for, the people we work for do not tell us more than we need to know. But they know a great deal. They have your answers."
She looked coldly at him, then suspiciously at the Trandoshan who was stood looking at her. "We were found quickly. Your work?"
The Trandoshan nodded. "We have our orders. Dastari was a pawn," he told her, "his usefulness was over the minute you left. You must come with us."
"I will have my revenge," she replied, "those who killed in my name will suffer."
"As you wish," Kelvert said calmly, "then we will aid you. On your promise that when this is over you will at least listen to what our employers have to say."
She snarled. "Do not betray me. You have seen what I am capable of."
"That is not our intention," Kelvert replied.
She studied him, then the trandoshan. "Very well. Once the device is planted I will leave with you." She glanced around at her followers. "We do not have much time. Dlarit may have tracked us. Form a defensive perimeter. We will not fail."


Marakith
Seng Karash

"Madam we have the trace."
Teu looked up at the captain, the Aedile rising to her feet. "Where?"
"The island of Lor Zatean," the officer replied, "three shuttles have infiltrated the area at low altitude, heading for Dlarit Beach. The satellite footage picked them up."
Teu smiled. "We have them! Inform the Summit."
"Yes Madam."

Outside Main Observatory
Marakith
Seng Karash

Teu let out a long sigh, her left hand was in a fist and her right was wrapped in a stiff bandage. She wore fresh clothes and she had a soft smile on her face but that did little to hid the anger that was evident in her eyes. As she pushed the button to open the door she cursed under her breath.

Inside the room were four men they all sat at a table their helmets on the table. Kano say working on his lightsaber, his apprentice watching him avidly. Fremoc and Methyas conversed silently to themselves. Fremoc looked up at Teu entered, he flashed his crooked smile that she loved best at her.

Teu moved to stand at the head of the table, she nodded at Fremoc and smiled back, the warmth of the smile never reached her eyes. She then felt concern through the connection the couple shared but she shut it off. She took a deep breath before opening her mouth.

“What were you three thinking? Blowing the generator to the sky, our objective was supposed to simply disable not destroy.”

The three men opened their mouths but were halted when Roxas spoke his voice was gruff and emotionless. “It still got the job done.”

This statement ended the rough facade of calm Teu was displaying, her eyes narrowed as she regarded the Protector in front of her, her eyes flashed once and her legs stiffened as she hurled across the table at her. She let her left hand fly out and hit the man in the nose the bone breaking under her fist.

Fremoc reacted quickly as his wife attacked the protector, even if he was surprised at the fury the female displayed. He grabbed her arm pulling and throwing her off his house member, his hand was light but unmoving as he restrained her.

Teu shook in fury as she stood there looking at the damage she caused on the protector, her hand throbbed painfully. She turned to look at her husband, she nodded once and he let go but remained next to her, regarding her in his one eye stare. She turned back to Roxas, her voice was surprisingly calm as she spoke. “If you ever touch me again I will kill you. If you ever speak to me unless its the most dire circumstance I will cut out your tongue and beat you to an inch of your life.”

Roxas stared at the female unblinking for the moment he then stood up and took a step toward the female but was stopped by Kano who gave the young man a simple order. “Go to the medic.”

Roxas nodded once then he walked from the room, grabbing his helmet as he walked from the room.

Teu stared after him after the door had hissed closed. She then turned her attention back to the three men in the room. She smiled once at them, in control again. It was clear that there would never be clear blood between the pair at least not for a long while. She stared into the face of Kano for a moment, she didn’t speak but nodded at him.

When she did speak her voice was strained, “Now that’s out of the way. I’ve been made Aedile here. Congratulate me later. Now the next matter of business our lovely friends have targeted Dlarit Beach as their final target, I fear to blow it up. However if that is their plan well that would be a major loss to us all around.”

As Teu finished speaking, the door hissed opened again and in walked a man in grey and yellow clad armor. His head moved around looking at each person in the room, before focusing on the man with the lightsaber in front of him.

Fremoc looked at the man, taking in the sight of him, he smiled. He then turned his focus onto his wife. “You know punching Roxas was not a smart idea, dear.” He wrapped his arms around his wife and hugged her tightly.

Teu chuckled softly for a moment, her eyes looking down at her right hand. “I think he got off lightly had it been just me and him. His broken nose would have been the least of his worries.” She pulled away “Shall we go finish taking care of this pestering problem we have?”

Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran Aerospace

Soon after, those aboard the skyhook were called to a meeting, and found themselves clustered around a hologram projector in a small briefing room. Locke stood back against one wall, out of the way of the more prominent members of the Clan, watching and listening. On the other side of the projector, his face cast in a faint blue by glow from the image between them, Malisane was preparing to speak. “We have located Deliverance and her closer followers, “he began, “they have taken two shuttles to meet at the resort at Dlarit Beach, at Lor Zatean.” He paused for a moment, and pressed a few buttons on the console in front of him. The display lit up with an overhead map of the resort, along with red dots showing the locations of the two shuttles. Several villas were also around the display, and Malisane gestured to one of these, before continuing. “We believe Deliverance and her followers have taken position in one of these villas. At first their intentions were unclear, but a transport recently left Seng Karash from one of the city’s warehouses. Its safe to assume, due to prior knowledge of that location, that explosives of some sort are aboard the shuttle, but we don’t know the specifics. Orbital sensors onboard the skyhook have also detected power surges from inside one of the villas, so it’s a good bet Deliverance is planning to go out with a bang. We shouldn’t have any problem taking her down. Since there are no civilians out there, we can use whatever method we like in combat.

“Regardless, it remains clear that we need to sneak in, and deactivate whatever device Deliverance has set up before she can set it off. We just need a way to get there undetected and-“

Suddenly, Roxas joined the conversation, his voice enthusiastic. “Why can’t we just fly in, land next to the villa, and kill them all?”

While Malisane reiterated what he had said before about needing to get in unnoticed, Locke thought he heard Teu mumble “he just said that idiot!” under her breath. As Malisane finished, he looked to the rest of the group. “Does anyone have a suggestion as to how we should sneak in?”

A few moments of quiet passed. That didn’t surprise Locke, since half of the group in the room seemed to be Mandalorians. He figured they wouldn’t like the idea of sneaking in. If it were up to them, we’d probably go in guns blazing. Locke thought, laughing inwardly to himself.

He leaned forward, “don’t we send maintenance crews out there once in awhile?” Locke waited for a nod from Malisane before continuing, “then, logically, one is probably leaving Seng Karash for the resort within the hour. How about we take it and pose as miners? That should allow us to get pretty close to Deliverance’s people, at least the guards. They might try to stop us anyway, but they’ll be surprised when we can dispatch them quickly, and we’ll have the element of surprise.”

“Sounds good to me, any objections?” Malisane asked.

Kano shook his head, “what about my armor? I’d rather be wearing it.”

“Those of us not wearing…obvious Mandalorian armor can head out first,” Teu added, “and stay in the open, letting the guards come to us. When they do, those in armor can jump out from hiding and spring the trap. Then we just have to be quick from there.”

Kano and Methyas nodded in agreement to that. “Then its settled, “Malisane continued, “we’ll leave for the city right away. Let’s take down Deliverance once and for all.”

“One more thing, “Fremoc said, “what if they try to escape?”

Malisane thought for a moment. “Good point, we’ll have a squadron of fighters on call at the city, encase Deliverance tries to run. Anything else?” After a few moments, no one said anything. “Alright, let’s go.”

As the group left the room, Roxas and Locke were the last to leave. Sensing disappointment from the young Mandalorian, Locke spoke up as they left. “Hey, don’t worry, it might be a stealth mission at first, but when they try to stop us, the real fun begins, and I’m sure you’ll get to do a lot of damage. Plus, you won’t have to hold back, since we’ll be away from prying eyes.” That seemed to improve Roxas’s mood, and as Locke thought about it, his too. He secretly enjoyed a good fight, especially with the odds in his favor. Well, only with the odds in my favor.

Marakith Skyhook
Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Manji strode away from the meeting room with a thoughtful expression plastered on his face. He'd remained at the back of the room, letting Malisane and Tsainetomo give the instructions; they, and the other higher-ups, knew he was there, but were wisely keeping silent. The memory of the Consul's thunderous outburst was still fresh, despite the time that had passed; even though Dlarit was slowly, gradually winning back the hearts and minds of the people of Seng Karash, they were still on shaky ground. One mistake could send the whole structure tumbling down and see the Voice of Justice driving Dlarit from the planet.

Nevertheless, despite the protestations of some of the more hot-headed members of the Clan, it seemed as though things were going to plan. Locke's idea of infiltrating Lor Zatean as one of the maintenance teams was a good one; it would avoid unnecessary bloodshed until they were within the seclusion of the resort. Several Journeymen gave the Consul a wide birth as they hurried past him to the hangar bay; the Dark Jedi who were not part of the maintenance team were flying back down to Seng Karash in order to man the fighter squadron which would block any escape attempt by Deliverance.

The Pontifex himself had other ideas. His footsteps had taken him back to the command centre, and the door hissed open smoothly at his approach. On the other side, Darla looked up from her console and snapped to attention, a warm smile suffusing her features.

"Keibatsu-dono, what can I do for you?"

"I need you to provide me with a false identity, Darla. I intend to be one of the guests at Lor Zatean; a visiting Kyataran noble who is not affiliated with the Keibatsu in any way."

Darla smiled, her mind already dancing ahead to fine-tune the details of Manji's plan.

"Of course, my lord. I will begin searching the Kyataran database immediately, and I will contact Lor Zatean to inform them of your arrival and arrange payment."

"Excellent. You're doing well, Darla. Now... I'm heading back to my quarters to find a suitably girly-looking kimono."

With a wink at the blonde Dlarit officer, he turned away, kimono swirling around him.

Ground Floor, Keebada Villa
Private Beach, Lor Zatean
Aeotheran Coastline, Orian System

Sapphire waves lapped across the beach front, a golden glow radiating off the pearly white sand outside the villa as the system’s primary sun, Orian Major, set for the night. The sight reminded him so much of the oceanic capital of Dargbar'rh.

Two sentinels from Voice of Justice stood watch immediately outside the front entrance door, now bearing arms the recently deceased Ven Dastari had so kindly stolen... sorry, procured from the City. The weapons looked ridiculously large for the small, malnourished refugees, but they had taken to the task with much gusto.

This was their stand. Tonight, everything changed—and the shadowy puppet masters behind the Dlarit Corporation would finally be unmasked for everyone to see.

This was the night the false brotherhood fell.

‘Usurpers.’ The word... the curse dripped off Robert’s tongue like acid. He would fulfil his prime directive; he would restore Clan Naga Sadow to its rightful place. And these imposters, these traitors would reap the consequences of betraying the rightful heir of the Sith Empire.

Distantly, he heard someone call his name from behind him and turned to see two of the guards Dastari had brought from the City staring directly at him. Unlike the refugees, these two were well suited for their artillery. One of them, a well built, too well built male in a black uniform, with what looked to be a cybernetic implant over part of the left side of his face, repeated Robert’s name—his alias, rather. ‘Rowaan, we need you downstairs.’

He let out a deep sigh—mostly for show. ‘Whatever,’ he muttered noncommittally and shrugged.

Robert followed the man, Kelvert he thought the name was, to the basement of Keebada Villa. Keebada, it was an appropriate name, some sort of fruit favoured by Hutts; it felt fitting for a show of corporate decadence. Not that he objected to that. It had served its purpose, getting the woman, Deliverance, and her people riled up against the Corporation. Against the usurpers. Against the false brotherhood. Against the ones who had sold the clan out to the failed empire's remnants.

The villa was deceptively large. He’d seen the private pool—practically an entire private lake—when the shuttle had come in for landing. While he had no idea how many the villa could house, he put it at a good thirty. At least. It was huge. Though, chances were, it was more likely the average guest rented the entire whatever number bedrooms all for themselves.

He did his best to suppress a grin. For all the love lost between him and the Corporation, the resort reminded him of home. His real home. Not the installation. Not the prison.

I’ll get you for what you did to us, he thought. The Administrator and I will end this betrayal.

As they made their way downstairs to the basement, the sound of drilling drummed through his ears louder... and louder... and louder. His entire head seemed to shake with each further step. The wine cellar had been given over entirely to the drilling equipment they’d had shipped in from the City, courtesy of Dastari’s final bequest. Thick orange cables as wide as a Wookiee dangled from the ceiling, and converged on a nearly two meter wide hole.

Staring over the edge, it was pitch black inside.

‘Rowaan,’ said Deliverance from somewhere to the side.

Robert turned and saw the woman. Her eyes had taken on the same feral appearance he had first noticed on the shuttle ride here. They were... inhuman. He didn’t know how or why—but he suspected some of the others knew more than they were letting on. It made no difference, regardless. She was a worthwhile tool—as no doubt he was to her. ‘Deliverance. How far are we going?’

Her eyes flashed, the pupils narrowing again into slits. ‘I want to get to a hundred,’ she said brusquely. ‘But that isn’t why I called you here.’ She stepped nearer, sniffing at the air as she approached. ‘I can smell them on you.’

Behind his scarf, Robert frowned. What was she on about? ‘Smell them?’

‘The ones who betrayed me,’ she said, her voice laced with warning.

‘I... do not understand.’ Of course he did.

‘Do not lie to me!’ She swept her hand across him, and in that simple gesture flung him across the room, ripping off the scarf wrapped around his face, and nearly sending him toppling down the abyss. ‘I know who you are!’

He raised an eyebrow defiantly and smirked. ‘Really? What gave it away? Was it my charming personality or my dashing good looks?’ He winked his lone remaining eye. Did she think he was afraid of her? Perhaps he should be—there was something about her that was blocking him from sensing her in the dark side—but so long as she helped him avenge the clan that was all that mattered. The Administrator would handle the rest.

Deliverance screamed, or perhaps growled, then leapt across the pit towards him, dragging him onto his feet one-handed, in the process pulling more of his tunic apart in the process to expose the ‘III’ tattoo on his left arm. ‘Before that swine Gavroche fled, he told me all about you! He told me who you are. What you are!’ Her breath smelt sour, bestial. ‘I should kill you on the spot.’

Robert shook his head and let out another sigh. The woman was unstable. Whatever else she was, that much was clear. One minute, she defended him; the next minute, she attacked him. There was no predicting her. It was like taming a wild animal... it struck back if feeling threatened.

‘Don’t you even want to answer me!?’ she said, her voice still seething.

He shrugged, indifferent. You never showed fear to animals. ‘You are mistaken,’ he said carefully. ‘I am not this governor you take me for. Think. Might it not be your former ally is prattling rumour to save his own neck?’

She stared at him for a moment. It was a long shot, he knew—she’d have to be ignorant to swallow it—but her mind was so unstable right now, who knew? Maybe it’d work. ‘I—don’t know,’ she said, more mutely this time. ‘I—You may be right. Gavroche lied about the train.’

Robert nodded. ‘Yes he did. And he lied about being loyal to you. You cannot trust him. Maybe he has been working for Dlarit all along, sabotaging your efforts?’

Her face softened and she dropped her gaze to the floor. ‘You’re... you’re right.’

Slowly, Robert took a step back and put some distance between him and Deliverance again. ‘But he’s right about one thing.’ She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes again. Would it hurt to at least tell her something true? Probably not. And it’d at least make her think he was placing some trust in her—and so up the chance she’d do the same for him in turn. ‘My name’s not Rowaan.’ Her eyes narrowed into feral slits again. ‘It’s Fett.’

That shook her. She took a few steps away, staggering around the hole as she moved to the other side of it. ‘As in... the bounty hunter?’ Her voice was scared. Or in awe. Or both.

He smirked again and breathed a laugh. ‘Something like that.’ He offered out his hand. ‘Robert Fett. Pleased to do business with you... Deliverance.’

She hesitated. Before she could take the hand, a new thrum vibrated through the building. A few moments later, the Trandoshan Carolides appeared at the bottom of the stairwell.

‘Some transports passing over the island,’ Carolides said. ‘You guys might wanna hurry it up.’

Shuttleon route to Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

Jade brushed her hand over the material of the overall covering her normal uniform. She hated the dull colour, but it fit well for their plan and it hid her weapons expertly. Her saber was tucked on her hip and she zippered the last half inch on the neck, it covered way too much skin. Sighing she stood up next to Soolan and looked around at the group. It had been a while since she had gotten together with everyone, or nearly everyone, and it was good to be around her Clan Mates and family once again, though she still hated the fact that their target had managed to escape underground. Soolan and her had made a pact that they would end the mission they set out to accomplish. Jade was also wanting revenge for the Clan, something she could see was apparent in both Sai and Malisanes’ eyes as they looked at her. She smiled as she saw her two apprentices, Fremoc and Teu together. She thought they made a great couple and was glad Teu had found someone she could confide in, and that Demonic had found someone to walk with him in his new life in the Brotherhood. Though she hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know Kano, Locke, and Roxas, very well before the mission, she had heard good things and expected great things of them in the fight to come.

Soolan looked at her and Jade nodded as she spoke. “Right. These enhanced agents can be a pain in the ass, so it’s best not to set them off at first or this will take a lot longer with the chance of the escape as mentioned before.”

Soolan looked at Malisane and smiled, glad to have more of a personal contact with him again. “Best we take it slow.”

Jade thought she heard one of the armoured members on the shuttle mutter something about hoping there was trouble or this was a waste of time. “Soolan and I have already had a nice first hand taste of what these body guard types are like. They can take a few good hits and enhancing their pain receptors seems to almost have no affect on their abilities what so ever.”

“They are strong, a combination from the drugs and their implants, which makes them a worthy enough adversary in a fight. They don’t tire easily.” Soolan smiled, “However a blaster shot between the eyes still kills them.”

“What about using the force, like a wave or blast?” Teu asked the two women.

“Using the force you can eventually take them down. It is a good defensive measure until you find the right time to strike, otherwise using it against them will just be a waste and drain on your energy.” Like always Jade wanted to see everyone come out alive from the fight, and any warnings and tips she could give she was more than willing to. “Sticking with the plan is key here. Going in subtly is our best chance at little trouble and lethality. “ Jade took a breath and looked at Sai, it was good to be back around family in deed. “Landing won’t be too bad if we don’t draw too much attention to it. We need to try and keep our heads down so as not to arouse the agents enough to get ourselves blown up.” She could have sworn someone groaned about not going head first fighting.

“Maintenance team should definitely go first, staying low key, radio silence if you will, with the rest to come in after they get in to their key areas.” Soolan nodded to each of the Clan members. She was still getting use to everyone but was glad to be fighting side by side for a similar cause.

“Though if the enhanced agents start trouble just keep in mind to try and defend first, trying to wear them out will only make you tire quicker in the battle.” Jade forced down the voices trying to laugh at their attempts. Something bigger was coming, but now wasn’t the time to think about it.

Shuttle on route to Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

Fremoc listened to the briefing Jade and Soolan gave the team. He reached into his armor and pulled his lightsaber out of its secret compartment. He clipped his lightsaber to his belt and watched Methyas do the same as well. His two apprentices, his wife, the Aedile of Marka Ragnos, and Kano's brother, Rang, were against the wall of the shuttle.

"Have fun while your sneaking in," Fremoc said gruffly to the team in the shuttle, pulling off the eye patch and gave his wife a quick kiss. He pulled his helmet down onto his head, the seals hissing as they connected. "Because within minutes we'll be in there guns blazing," his voice metallic from the intercom on his helmet, "Vode, buy'cese." Without a word, Kano, Methyas, Rang, and Araxis slipped their helmets on top of their heads.

The generator blowing up due to 3 Mandalorians, some feared what could happen. But fear is what they wanted. Deliverance knew who they were, how they did the job, and now there were more of them. The HUD on Fremoc's helmet lit up as Kano, Araxis, Rang, and Methyas opened up their secure channel, unable to be heard from everyone else except them.

"Well gent's how long shall we wait?" asked Fremoc.

"Give them a decent amount of time," replied Methyas.

"Hows the new chest plate?" came Kano.

"Lovely, hope this one doesn't get messed up."

"What about Roxas?" Araxis piped through the comm.

"Have him stay with us," said Fremoc. He looked over to his wife who was watching him intently wanting to know what was going on. "Method Man, when we we get back we need a few new sets of armor."

"For who?" asked Kano and Methyas at the same time.

"Thomas and Teu."

"Will someone tell me how the vornskr got onto the Skyhook?" questioned Rang. The group chuckled and all looked at Fremoc.

"I captured it. Thank the gods, Manji didn't notice."

"Where is it now?"

"Teu's apartment," came across Kano.

"Everyone ready? We are going to be landing soon," said Malisane to the entire team. The shuttle moved around to get closer to Lor Zatean, most of the team tried to steady themselves as their bodies moved with the transport's movement. The group against the wall didn't move, their training, their instincts had them shift their weight slightly so that they wouldn't move.

"Let them have their fun, because once we step off, the ground will burn," said Fremoc over the private channel.

Dlarit Beach
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

The shuttle touched down on the other side of the compound from the target villa. After a few seconds the ramp lowered and half a dozen maintaince operatives in plain grey dlarit overalls and face masks descended, carrying toolbox's. "Alright we're clear," Jade reported to Fremoc.
"Acknowledged."
Soolin looked across the compound at the villa's with their attractively shaped lawns, hedges and pool areas. "I've never been here before, it's quite scenic."
"It's foolishness and decadence," Malisane observed darkly.
"Which you designed," Jade pointed out through her mask.
Malisane snarled but said nothing. He took out a signal detector and did a sweep of the area. A brief smile touched his burned lips briefly detecting an unusual one and he sound a high static burst along it and felt three surges of surprised pain through the force from the shuttle. "You may take off now."
As the shuttle they made their way along the path between the grounds. Malisane was privatley furious at the scenery around him. Had he really been so vain and ambitious as to sculpt this monstrosity around them, and across the whole island. Useless! What sickness had filled his mind? His accident had been the best thing that had happened, to focus his mind on what mattered.

"Any sign of guards?" Locke asked, looking around them.
"Not yet," Teu replied, "Dyrra called off our own people to a safe distance."
"And Deliverances won't have this wide a perimeter," Soolin added.
"We hope not, we're terriblely exposed here," Jade pointed out.
"Well you're the Krath you ought to be able to sense them," Malisane replied.
"Nothing that feels out of place so far," Jade replied.
"Good. Then keep looking like relaxed workers."

"Stop," the Battlelord said suddenly, "over there!"
Quickly they moved behind a hedge and peered over. "It's that one," Teu pointed out, "those shuttles match the ones Marakith detected."
"Can't see any guards," Locke pointed out.
"They'll be keeping hidden they don't want to draw attention to themselves," Jade replied, "I can sense movement inside though, and tension. They're in there."
"Then thats where we're going," Malisane said grimmly.

Near the collasped cave hideout
Aeotheran

The Argnok landed in the clearing, it's repulsors powering down as the autopilot finished it's program. There was a pause for a few seconds then the side of the detachable cargo section opened with a burst of freezing vaopur as six hundred small compressed compartments opened. After a few seconds a line of small black creatures began to depart, quickly and silently grabbing blasters and alchemically enhanced pikes from rotating racks either size of the exit. Just as silently they formed six neat columns and stood staring blankly ahead. At the front the largest of the creatures stood watching them until they were ready. High Chief Urtarg clicked on a band on it's wrist and a hologram of Captain Senth appeared. {We are ready to proceed}"
The DAC nodded. "Contain the creature. Form a perimeter around this area. Engage if possible. It must not reach civilisation."
"{We have the scent, we understand.}"
"Good." and Senth disappeared.
Urtarg snarled an order and the Sith-spawned ewoks began to efficiently disperse into the jungle. The Argnok's autopilot engaged and it lifted off the jungle floor.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The drilling went deep. Fifty meters. Then seventy. Eighty. Ninety...

Still they kept going.

Deliverance wouldn’t stop until the bomb Ven Dastari had smuggled out from the City sat deep enough that it would crack open the planet’s very crust. The volcanic island would sink beneath the waves—or else burn when Mount Zatean re-erupted.

Her revenge would be absolute, and the corporate elite would learn the way she had, the way all the refugees of Orian had... the way Fergus had. There was no living without making sacrifices. She had learnt that lesson the hard way. Now it was time the Corporation did, too.

She put the detonator in her pocket, then looked down at the small photograph of Fergus in the locket that hung around her neck.

‘You will be avenged, brother,’ she whispered.

A footstep. She snapped the locket shut and looked up. It was Rowaan—no, Fett. She doubted that was his real name either, but then her name wasn’t Deliverance, so she was hardly one to talk. ‘Yes?’ she said, impatient, and leaned back in the red leather armchair. For all her disgust at Keebada’s decadence, she’d make the most of it while it lasted. A villa? It was more like a private estate. No wonder they had no money for those who truly needed it.

‘Someone special?’ Robert asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

She dropped her gaze back down to the silver locket. It had been her mother’s; and was perhaps the only item of any real value she had left from her former life on Varenon. ‘None of your business,’ she said quietly; it felt wrong to shout in front of Fergus. She looked back up again to see sympathy in Robert’s normally gruff face.

His eye glanced away. ‘I have a daughter...’ he said quietly. ‘I know what it’s like to be fighting for someone.’

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Robert shrugged, shaking the worry from his face again. They both had to be tough; he evidently understood that, too. The name Fett was indeed rather appropriate, it seemed.

‘Carolides said to give you this,’ he continued, more plainly this time, and held out a gold, gem-crusted sword; its blade was polished to a genuine mirror shine, and she could see her haggard face staring back at her. ‘He found it in Gavroche’s stuff after he ran off.’

Deliverance snorted and snatched the sword out of Robert’s hand. ‘What a pathetic little man.’ In the corner of her eye, she saw Robert frown. ‘Etenia. This was hers.’ She paused, feeling something cold suddenly close around her heart. ‘I—I’d forgotten all about her. With the train wreck... I never... What happened to her?’

Robert shook his head again.

Oh, that was right—he hadn’t been with them on the mission to the monitoring station. When did Etenia disappear? Deliverance couldn’t remember. Was I so filled with anger that I forgot about my own people? ‘I’m a good leader, aren’t I?’ she asked. ‘I look after my people, don’t I?’

She didn’t know why she was suddenly confiding in this man... she barely knew him. But however much he tried to hide it, she could see the truth in his eyes—he was fighting for the same things. Freedom. Justice. Revenge.

‘You’re committed to a cause,’ he said at last. ‘Sometimes the cause is about more than individuals.’ She nodded slowly. Yes. Exactly. Etenia had understood that. They were all fighting for something... or someone. ‘We all have a job to do,’ Robert continued. ‘Sometimes change requires sacrifices.’

She rotated the blade in her hands. Etenia must have fallen fighting the beast in the jungle. They had lost a lot of good people in that mine... the mine one of the Mandalorians, one of the infiltrators, had led them to. It had all been a set up. All of it. But not now. Not this time. When they came—and come they would, the maintenance shuttles Carolides had seen fly overhead were off schedule; it wouldn't be long now—she would show them what it meant to harness the power of the suns.

She would teach them justice. As its voice, she would show everyone the suffering of the oppressed. Now I am become Death... the Voice of Justice... They had killed her people. It was only fair that she now killed theirs.

‘We’ll make them pay,’ Robert said, breaking her out of her thoughts. ‘For Etenia. For the lives lost on the train. For the generator.’

Deliverance nodded again. ‘For all of them.’

‘For all of them,’ he echoed.

For Fergus...

Outside Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

As the more senior members of the group were talking, Locke looked around. He couldn’t see much from their position behind the hedge because it was fairly thick. “…we need to get closer, carefully…” Malisane was saying, with Jade nodding in agreement next to him. He pointed off to the side, over Locke’s head. “I know this design better than anyone. There’s a low retaining wall over here. We can use it as cover to get closer.” With a nod, the group followed, crouched low to avoid popping over the hedge.

Fortunately, the hedge ended right where the wall began, and soon they were all on the other side. Moving slowly, they inched their way along the wall, until they were much closer to the villa. “Alright, stop,” Malisane whispered, “we’re much closer now, though we’ll still have to go around a few obstacles further away to actually get inside. Jade, what do you sense?”

The Krath Archpriestess closed her eyes for a moment, as if in thought. Locke figured she was feeling out in the Force, but she hid it well; he could feel nothing. “They have somewhere between twenty and thirty people inside, about thirteen of them feel a bit…different, so those will be the stronger ones I warned you about.”

“Right, and three of those will be Deliverance and her lieutenants,” Malisane replied.

“Also, “Jade answered with a whisper. “There’s…something else, possibly someone else in there, but they’re hard to detect or read. Its hard to say if its anyone at all.”

At that, Malisane nodded. Just then, Teu pointed off to the side, beyond some sort of ludicrous, fancy decorative trees. “Wait, over there, guards coming this way.”

“Stay against the wall!” Malisane ordered. The group pressed themselves against the retaining wall and waited. Locke looked over where she had pointed; the trees had long, looping branches of some sort that made them difficult to see through. Doubtless, the guards would be right on top of the group before they really noticed them. Breathing deeply, Locke readied himself.

Suddenly, Malisane and Jade were in motion as the guards reached the edge of the trees. With a quick twist of the neck to one and a slice across the neck to the other and they were down. A third emerged, and Locke jumped up and covered his mouth while Teu briefly lit her lightsaber in his stomach and then let it flash off. The three guards dropped with a thud, not even having a chance to scream.

“Well, that was easy, “ Teu commented.

“Obviously, none of those were the difficult ones I spoke of before,” Jade replied, “those will take much more effort, and are probably all inside the villa.” She turned to Malisane. “Where do we go from here?”

He looked around, as if thinking. “Alright, the villa has several levels. There’s two upper levels above ground. The upper one likely has guards watching and snipers as well. The building itself is sprawling. What you see here is just a small portion; once we get inside, theres still a maze of courtyards and various rooms. Toward the center of this, on the bottom floor, theres entry to the basement, which is itself two floors. The first of these has bedrooms, living areas, and the like. Deliverance is probably there. Below that is a basement, used for storing drinks and other supplies. If there is a bomb, that’s probably where it is.”

After pausing for a moment, he continued. “We should be able to get inside soon; this wall goes back out away from the villa, and ends by a large shed, which actually houses an auxiliary entrance to the villa. Once inside, we’ll still have to be careful, but we can probably call in the others from the shuttle. If they land on the opposite side, or hover over the building even, they should be able to surprise the enemy and create enough confusion for us to get in. Everyone got it?” The group silently nodded in agreement. “Alright, this way then, “ and he took the lead, crouching and running along the side of the retaining wall, back out away from the villa and toward the shed he had mentioned before.

GoodValor’s Restaurant
Seng Karash, Aeotheran

Though the lights remained out across much of Seng Karash, some of the factories shut down to reroute power to the monorail network, business remained open as usual at GoodValor’s, the fastest fast food joint in the whole galaxy... well, aside from any of the thousands of other GoodValor's outlets, available from Cinnagar in the Deep Core to Zonju V on the edges of Wild Space. If you couldn’t find a GoodValor’s, it meant you weren’t looking hard enough.

Tonight in fact, the restaurant was even more packed than normal, much to the managers’ delight. True, miners were taking their anger out on the waiting staff for being unable to get to work with the monorail network offline, and a few—those who’d probably already been moved on from the Blue Hutt earlier that evening—were cosying up far too close to some of the recently widowed wives; and at one table, a small boy of no more than five was flicking spoonfuls of ice-cream at random passersby. However it was all just another ordinary night at GoodV’s.

Or it had been.

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp of air. Silence fell upon the restaurant as mouths froze mid-mouthful. Milkshakes spilled down dresses. Flung ice-cream remained splattered, dripping down cheeks and underneath unbuttoned shirt collars. The only movement came from a fidgeting baby whose mother had frozen halfway through changing him, a disposable wipe still scrunched up in her hand.

This was all because every table’s holo-menu, every wall mounted vidscreen, every portable datapad and music player simultaneously switched to the same channel. Staring back at the citizens of Seng Karash was the female face that had haunted every single person’s sleep for the past year. Her eyes were cold, hard, and... inhuman.

‘Citizens of Orian. We are the Voice of Justice and I am its Deliverance.’

Eyes shifted throughout the restaurant, and, but for the wriggling baby, all remained silent.

‘By now the Dlarit Corporation will have fed you its lies. Covered up attacking its own monorail and power generator. Dlarit’s deception ends tonight. I am here to issue our final ultimatum and to call once more on the Dlarit Corporation to come clean and acknowledge the injustice at the Aeotheran refugee camp.’ The terrorist leader paused before continuing. ‘We have planted a bomb underneath the executive beach of the island resort of Lor Zatean.’

That got a response.

Fists slammed into vidscreens, knees overturned tables, tirades of abuse flooded the room. The baby screamed, wailing.

‘You kriffing terrorist bitch! You stole my husband from me!’
‘I’ve had enough! Turn this fracking osik off!’
‘We don’t care about you homeless schuttas!’
‘Go back to the karking slag pen you crawled out of!’

Everywhere, dinners were pulling comlinks from their pockets, dialling distant relatives, pleading for all those trapped on the isolated resort off the coast to get out. Get out now!

The face had somehow predicted all this and waited, its inhuman eyes fixed straight ahead, unblinking. The corners of the hologram’s lips twisted into a feral grin. ‘We are not Dlarit. Civilians will not be harmed. Until the Corporation’s chief executives are forced to experience what they have forced us in tent city to endure there can be no justice.’

More hurled abuse.

‘You have until sunrise to accede to our demands.’

The image blinked off.

Over the Isle of Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

"..it will be done my lord," said Fremoc to Dyrra with a touch of sarcasm over the comm. The rest of the members of the Mandalorian Strike Team had heard what Dyrra was ordering them to do. They had all heard the communication that Deliverance had spoken to the citizens of Seng Karash and the rest of Aeotheran. Fremoc switched over his comm settings to Malisane who was on the ground. "Malisane, we have a problem. Deliverance has bomb planted underneath the resort. Get down there and take care of it, we'll be air dropping in 5. I'm sorry but I thought we had more time. Good luck my friend."

"You too," was Malisane's only response as he began to explain the situation to the people in his team. Silence crept through the shuttle as the team knew what was about to happen.

"Pilot get us over the roof of the resort ASAP!" yelled the Quaestor of Marka Ragnos to the pilot as he stood up. The shuttle immediately banked and turned towards the resort. "Gentlemen, we have a situation. There is a bomb under that resort, and I wanted that thing gone the day before yesterday."

The group chuckled as they stood up as well. "We'll be jumping out of the back of the shuttle, and use the Force to slow us to a stop on the roof. From there, take out any kriffing terrorists you find or see. Personally I want them all dead."

"What about the civilians?" asked Rang.

"We find them, get them in a safe direction," responded Methyas.

"We want them as far away from here as they can be if this thing goes off," added Kano.

"Objectives?" questioned the young Protector Roxas.

"Kill the terrorists, get the civies to safety, keep collateral damage to a minimum," Fremoc said with a lot of emphasis on minimal as he looked at Kano who hung his head in an obvious sigh of shame.

"It got the job done though," was the Night Raptor's Battleteam Leader's response.

"10 seconds until over the roof!" yelled the pilot. Fremoc walked to the back of the shuttle and hit the manual overrides for the airlock opening both doors as the pilot sealed his door to the main compartment shut. He looked outside the airlock to see where they where, before stepping back to main compartment.

"I'll see you boys down there." With that the Quaestor turned and took two strides before leaping out of the airlock. Using the Force he slowed his body's rate of decent and landed on the roof with a thud, behind two snipers, who immediately turned around. Looking up at them through his helmet, he said "Hello there."

Quickly, Fremoc grabbed one of the two by the neck and immediately began strangling the man while he pulled his side arm. The other sniper in shock of how fast the Templar had moved, tried to bring his weapon to bare on Fremoc before catching a bolt of red energy in his chest and stumbled to the ground in shock.

"Who.. are... you?" gurgled the sniper caught in Fremoc's grasp.

"Your worst nightmare." The Templar felt a crunch, as he crushed the sniper's neck. Your kind took my family away from me. My mother, my father, my sister. I will never forgive or forget what terrorists have done...

Fremoc heard the rest of the team land on the roof of the resort as he kept starring at the two fallen terrorists, his rage building.

"I see you started the party without us," said Kano over the comm channel the team shared.

"Yep you boys took too long." The Quaestor looked up to see Araxis and Roxas against the wall, line up to storm the door that lead to a stairwell. They were waiting for Fremoc's command. "Go."

Keebada Villa
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran.

They slipped inside the side entrance, sneaking through the shed. At the back a simple metal door lead inside the main building. "Alriight keep a look out," Malisane ordered, "I don't want any suprises." He glanced backwards to check they were ready. Malisane glanced at the Hunter. "Lead the way."
Locke nodded. He took a deep breath clutching his blaster in one hand then hit the button and the door slid open. He immediatley moved quickly inside, coming face to face with a tall man holding a rifle in both hands. As their eyes met Locke lashed out with his free hand, his palm upwards the heel smashing into the guards nose driving his cartelidge up into his brain, and he fell twitching in silent death throes. Malisane stepped into the room and looked down briefly. "Good work Hunter."
"Thank you," Locke replied feeling a surge of pride he kept off his face.
Malisane glanced around. They were in an empy corridor, a door leading off to one side and another at the end. He glanced at Jade. She had her eyes closed, concentrating. "This is hardly the time."
She opened her eyes and regarded him calmly. "I still sense something wrong. I can't put a finger on it though, but it feels familiar."
"Just concentrate on the mission we can discuss it later. We hardly have time for this."
She gave him a hard look then shrugged. "Very well."
He indicated the side door. "Aedile, Soolin, in there. Hunter guard the main door." Both women moved forward as Locke moved forward and covered the door. The Kressh Aedile nodded at Soolin then opened the door sabers igniting as they met the guards inside. Two fell instantly before they had chance to react. Soolin gasped in pain as a blow struck her arm and she swung to meet a heavy man in dark armour. He grabbed her wrist pinning her saber arm down and punched out at her, smashing his fist into her face and she sagged, fighting to control the pain. Teu kept her saber raised but couldn't reach the main who kept the knight inbetween himself and the Aedile and struggled to dislodge her saber from her grasp. Soolin struggled back, she'd met the enhanced agents before, and knew their ability. He was stronger than her but she used the force to lash out at him, making him momentarily shudder.

A second later he lashed back, swinging her around and smashing her against the wall, causing her to sag. He reached out and grasped her arm raising it quickly up to bring her saber to meet Teu's strike and the blades clashed together. Teu snarled and aimed a low cut and the man moved the prone Soolin in the way, causing Teu to stop the thrust before it killed one of her house members.
The distraction was enough though, Soolin glanced into Teu's eyes then collaspsed, using her weight to pull the man off balance and he followed her movement, taken by surprise. Teu seeing the gap in his defence thrust with her saber, the glowing blade slicing through his neck burning and penetrating his throat, and he gasped before falling. Soolin pushed his weight off her and let the corpse fall to the ground. Teu smiled grimmly lowering her saber. "All clear." she called.
Out in the corridor Malisane nodded in satisfaction as the two women rejoined them. "Hunter proceed inside."
Locke nodded. "At once." He pressed the door release and moved into the next room.

Keebada Villa
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

As his boot and knee slammed into the rooftop, the young Aedile rose slowly to a standing position as he felt the nagging pain eating at his chest and side. With a subdued slam he felt Araxis and Roxas burst into the stairwell with Rang and Kano following close behind them, a firm hand on his shoulder and a worried voice woke him from his trance, "You okay vode?"
With a silent nod the Miraluka started towards the stairwell, feeling the presence of the Quaestor behind him, "I'll be fine, we need to finish our objective make sure the other team isn't getting themselves in too much trouble."

Quickly the Ragnosians made their way to the rest of their team, each of them at the entrance to a different section of the upper floor. Reaching out, Methyas could faintly feel the signatures of the other team at the other end of the complex before casting his sightless gaze to Fremoc, "We've got a fair bit of ground to cover between us and them...I'd take a guess at low to moderate resistance, more of them are getting alerted by the other team at this point."
It wasn't hard to feel everyone's mood brighten as they grew anxious to get into the fray, Fremoc and Methyas taking their place at another door before the order was given through their comms, "Enter and clear."

The doors opened as quietly as the Dark Jedi could manage before they began their assault. Fremoc moved quietly ahead of the Miraluka at his back, Methyas moving to the nearby corner of the lavish hall to make sure there were no others ready to take them by surprise. The poor sentry in the hall going down with a muffled cry of pain as the Templar's hand covered his mouth and his combat knife found itself at home in the man's chest. As the sentry fell to the ground in a heap Methyas moved quickly down the hall to the next doorway, pushing it open quietly before feeling it slam back into him. Stumbling into the wall behind him, the Knight instantly reached out in the Force before letting loose a small profanity as a sudden slam of the door presented a Voice of Justice agent leaping out at the Dark Jedi with an almost feral speed. As quickly as the man had moved Methyas threw a wall of the Force at his assailant, slowing the brute to a more reasonable speed to slam the weakened Miraluka into the wall. With a smile creeping across the agent's face, another agent stepped out and spotted the Templar down the hall, "I've got that one."

Coughing slightly, the pressure on his new breastplate causing sharper pains than before, Methyas smiled slightly as he mumbled at his opponent, "S...sorry about this...b...buddy."
With a quick and decisive lift of the Knight's knee the Agent eased off as a low cry escaped his lips and stumbled backwards, the two combatants gasping for air as they separated. Taking the opening Methyas threw a mean left hook, catching the side of the man's head as the Force aided the potency of the strike. He'd drawn blood and moved to follow through with a swift right jab, the strike landing squarely on the man's nose resulting in further blood being spilled. A sharp pain lanced down Methyas' side as the blow connected causing the Miraluka to shutter slightly before he spun swiftly on the spot, bringing his foot about in a roundhouse kick to the man's side. The pain was a little harder to deal with than he had expected but he wasn't about to give up on this mission, "Guys, expected heavy resistance; enhanced agents..."

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as the agent cleanly dropped a fierce strike across his jaw causing him to stumble a bit before the man grabbed him on either side of his breastplate, spinning to build momentum before tossing the young Aedile down the hall with a surprising amount of force. As he flew, Methyas could feel the Force screaming at him to evade the impending wall but there was little he could do to stop himself and instead focused on controlling the serious pain he was about to endure. Hitting the solid concrete wall with a deafening thud and cracking it was difficult to tell if it had been the Knight's bones or the wall that had made the sound. Crackling could be heard from the damaged electronics on the helmet as the agent began to stomp his way down the hall to inspect his opponent, with weak movements the Aedile managed to pull his helmet off, the traditional optics had been destroyed in the impact as had the long-range communicator causing the unit to seize and spark at random intervals. With a slight pause, a smile grew across the agent's face as he recognized the man, "Oh, Deliverance will be pleased to know I killed you traitor...your actions at the generator haven't been forgotten yet."

With an almost giddy leap, the Agent crossed the remaining distance quickly, grabbing the Aedile by the back of his neck and lifting him from the floor, seeing a pool of blood at the base of the wall and slightly dripping from the boots of the seemingly broken man in his grasp, "Surprising you could even cause us this much trouble, you weren't even worth the effort."
With coughing and gasps for air escaping the younger man as the Agent's grip tightened, the disturbed smile on his face grew. With a sudden snap-hiss, the Agent's face leapt to that of shock and startled pain. As his grip loosened Methyas fell loosely to a knee as the man stumbled backwards, his face whitening as Methyas slowly rose to his feet with a cerulean glow cast about his face. The loose white scarf about his head lightly spotted with deep crimson pools as he leaned towards the agent with furrowing brows before he leapt through the air with very animalistic roar escaping his lips. The cerulean blade flashing foward as the agent's head was lopped from his shoulders. The blade disengaged quickly as Methyas almost straddled his fallen opponent, deep ragged breaths heaving the Knight's chest as he seemed to stare down the fallen man.

It seemed so distant as Fremoc tried to call to him, almost as though they were separated by several kilometers. He could hear him trying again, a little closer this time with the worry apparently in his voice, "METHYAS!"
The Templar kept a safe berth around the Knight, the blood covering him from head to toe as the heavy ragged breaths were cause enough for alarm, "Methyas! Are you alright?"
Shaking his head for a moment the Knight's head seemed to hang as he almost fell in a heap ontop of his fallen adversary, catching himself for a moment as he looked towards his Quaestor, a hint of acknowledgement and content in his voice, "Hey! Fremoc...how'd we do?"
The Templar felt out as he looked at the Knight, "Well...we've cleared the first couple of rooms, but you're not doing so well."
The Knight nodded as the weak smile seemed to slip from his face, "Think my leg's broken...chest's tight...but I'm good to fight."
The blood dripping from the man's leg in addition to how it appeared visibly crushed caused worry for both of them as they could hear the others calling in over their comms, the wired earpiece in Methyas' ear allowing him to hear their reports.

Beneath Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Robert Fett dragged his eyelids open. ‘They are here.’

Beside him in the red leather armchair, the leader of the Voice of Justice stirred. ‘I know. I can... smell their stench.’ She rotated the small detonator between her fingers. ‘They will regret this trespass,’ she added quietly. Then looked up at him, a thin smile forming. ‘As can I smell you.’

He breathed a laugh. ‘Then, at last, you understand my issue with our shared enemy,’ he said. ‘Kelvert and Carolides can defend you here. I will head upstairs to buy you what time I can. Hopefully the device will be in position before they reach you.’ Before waiting for the Voice of Justice’s response, Robert turned and headed for the staircase.

Ground Floor, Side Entrance, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Gunfire echoed from somewhere upstairs as Locke proceeded ahead of the two Sadows into the next room, while Teu and Soolin covered the rear. A muffled scream, then Locke gave the all clear, and Malisane moved into the next room with Jade... who promptly froze.

‘Wait,’ the Krath said, quickly holding up her hand. ‘Wait... I sense...’

Malisane did as the archpriestess said. ‘What is it?’ he muttered quietly. ‘What’s the hold up?’

‘I don’t... No. No, it can’t be—’

Before she could finish that thought, the door at the far side of the room blasted open, literally flying across the room, throwing up a cloud of plaster. Locke reacted instantly, like the expert marksman he was, spraying blaster bolts at the open doorway the moment their would-be assailant stepped through the door—the terrorist foolishly believing that four Dark Jedi could be taken by surprise...

...when a blood red ray of plasma snap-hissed into existence.

‘The frack?!’ Malisane’s own lightsaber blazed to life, mirrored by the three women behind him. ‘Friendly fire! Friendly fire!’ In the middle of the room, Locke dived for cover, rolling underneath his own attack as it was reflected right back at him, the blaster bolts singing the ornate carpet where he’d been.

The figure in the doorway waved his hand, through the dark side sweeping away the dust cloud. Malisane’s jaw nearly dropped when he beheld the man standing in front of him; but only nearly. In reality, he snarled, baring his teeth in pent up anger. ‘Have you had one Corellian brandy too many, this time? What the kriff do you think you’re been playing at working with these people?’

Though his hair was long and dishevelled, his left eye slashed and blinded, the believed-to-be-missing rollmaster standing in the doorway was unmistakable. He frowned, then returned Malisane’s sneer. ‘My name is Bob Fett, and I will not be lectured to by traitors and Imperial sympathisers.’

Next to Malisane, Jade stood in silence, her eyes still narrow in contemplation.

The warlord, no... the battlemaster in front of them raised his hand, then lifted Locke into the air, and hurled the Hunter toward the others. Malisane and Jade ducked, however Soolin and Teu took the brunt of the impact head on, the two women flying back into the previous room in a confused tangle of limbs and fast deactivating lightsabers.

‘Something is not right,’ Jade’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘This doesn’t feel right.’

Malisane felt his skin beginning to burn with rage, his mind flashing back to the fires when Dystopia blew up, drawing on that pain, drinking it, letting it fuel him. ‘Of course it isn’t right!’ He stared murderously at the man in front of him. ‘You dare to call us traitors! Apostate!!!’ He raised his free hand and let loose a maelstrom of black, swirling dark side energies. The maelstrom collided with the other man’s lightsaber, the sheer kinetic force driving him backward a step.

‘Apostate?’ The man frowned, echoing the curse. ‘No. The apostates are you!’

Bob leapt at him, springing into the air, vaulting overhead to land directly behind him. Malisane deflected a passing lightsaber strike, the blade narrowly missing his head, but passing close enough to singe the side of his left ear. The Sadow growled, savouring the sensation. Memories of betrayal flooded over the Battlelord. ‘First Vexatus. Then Caerick. Now you?!’ He twirled, lunging for the rollmaster. All thoughts of the Voice of Justice and the bomb vanished from his mind as a blood red veil fell across his vision. Apostates. There are no greater traitors than apostates!

The rollmaster was too slow bringing his own sword arm back up to parry, and Malisane’s blade gauged a chunk out of the other man’s arm. Bob howled, backfooting past Jade—who had still not moved to attack. Malisane shot the fellow Sadow the briefest of glances, his enraged expression saying more than the barely comprehensible words he managed to utter between hoarse breaths. Jade continued to look on as the two Sith exchanged blows. ‘Malisane...’ her voice was strained, doubtful.

The treacherous rollmaster grabbed at thin air—then Malisane felt something heavy and metallic slam into his spine, drove him forward into an oncoming strike... which he blocked a fraction before losing his head. ‘Not bad,’ Bob hissed, and brought a knee up to shove Malisane away. ‘But not good enough.’ Two heavily armed, almost cyborg-looking guards emerged through the same entrance Bob had. ‘The other room,’ Bob said, nodding behind him over his shoulder while he continued to trade blows. ‘Two more. Get them.’ The two terrorists sidestepped the duelling Sith to go after Teu and Soolin in the previous room.

Malisane had had enough. ‘Of all the people. Of anybody. Why you? Why you?!’ He reached into the dark side, deeper than he had since his discovery of the Bastion over a year earlier, the forgotten temple he'd found deep out in the Aeotherani wilds, drawing on the black currents that engulfed the entire planet, that emanated from that dark place... and focusing them into a single, needle-sharp prick, which he directed straight into Bob’s chest, the dark energies converging upon his heart—

And the rollmaster jerked to a halt, his lightsaber slipping from his fingers. Bob clutched at his chest.

Malisane waited, squeezing the apostate’s heart between his fingertips, waiting until the rollmaster bent over and collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, beating at his own chest, dying... ‘Malisane! Stop!’ He ignored the voice, staring into the traitor’s eyes as they misted over, a milky white film covering the remaining good eye, making it mirror the blind one beside it... ‘I said stop!’ The side of a hand struck the front of his neck, breaking his concentration, and causing him to release the rollmaster.

Malisane spun round to Jade, the barely restrained inferno of anger still erupting inside him. ‘WHAT?!’

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Malisane snarled, swinging his fist around and smashing it into the side of Bob's head, pitching him forward. Deliberatley the Battlelord placed his foot on the back of the Battlemaster's neck, pressing just enough to pin him but allow him to breathe, just. He turned furiously to Jade. "What?"
"Don't kill him."
"He's betrayed the Clan, he's betrayed the Heir. Ideally I'd arrange a firing squad but we're busy so a saber through the throat and corpse tossed in the sea will have to do."
The Archpriestess frowned. "Don't be foolish, If that is Bob then he's not himself. Sai wants him brought back for questioning."
Malisane glanced down. Bob had been a mentor since he'd joined the Clan, his first Quaestor, his Clan Envoy when Malisane had joined the Society, and an erratic but dependable leader when it counted. All of that just made it worse. Once he hadn't cared about this stuff, when Vexatus and Trevarus had left it hadn't mattered to him they were insane they weren't Sadows anymore really they only cared about their own aims, he'd viewed the disgrace of the former Consul alledgedly running away with her brother in law taking her son to the protection of the former Grandmaster with a quiet amusement, but things were different now. He was a Sadow and it was his Clan. Nothing could be allowed to threaten that, and traitors had to be dealt with harshly to disencourage anyone who considered betrayal.
Still he had a loyalty to the Overlord, and a grudging obedience to a lesser extent to whoever sat on the Clan Summit. He removed his foot, then drew it back kicking the Battlemaster in the side of the head and the traitor went quiet.
"Malisane!" Jade gapsed.
"He'll live."

He reached down and picked up Bob, hefting him over his shoulder. "Go and help the others," he told her glancing to where Teu and Soolin battled. He turned and headed for the door, reaching for his communicator. "Fremoc get your butt down here and take command."
"We're busy, "What are you doing?"
"Never mind," Malisane snarled, "just do it!" He clicked the communicator off and strode out of the building into the daylight, glancing around him. Sensing his destination he carried the rollmaster across the grounds to where a shuttle was landing on the grass. The door slid open and the Pro Consul stepped out

"Well?" Malisane demanded.
"Is that Bob?," Sai asked quietly, studying the Battlemaster curiously.
"Of course it is," Malisane replied.
"Hard to believe he's betrayed the Clan," the Pro Consul replied, "we'll see what tale he has to tell."
Malisane gave him a hard look. "Just make sure no one finds out, we can not be embarassed again."
"I am aware of that," the Pro Consul replied coldly.
"We'll take him to the Bastion," the Battlelord suggested, "better he not be seen on Marakith or Sadow Palace."
Sai nodded. "Very well." As Malisane unceremoniously threw the Battlemaster inside then boarded Sai banged on the side of the door and it slid shut as the shuttle lifted off.

Top floor of the Keebada Villa
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

"Come on vode, stand up," said Fremoc. "I've got to get moving. And I mean moving. Think you can be fine on your own?"

"I'll be fine. I heard. Get down there with the rest of them, I'll take command up here," said his Aedile, favoring his leg as he stood up on the wall.

Fremoc turned and directed his next communication through the comm in his helmet, "Kano, I'm leaving to join up with Teu. Come help fix Methyas, he's pretty messed up."

"Roger," came Kano's reply. The fellow Templar half ran around the corner to Methyas and Fremoc's position. Like a true Disciple of Fremoc, Kano nodded at his master as he went past Fremoc. The Quaestor of Marka Ragnos reached out through the Force and felt his wife below him. He withdrew his lightsaber from the hidden compartment on his armor.

With a snap-hiss his emerald blade lit. Bringing the blade down, the Quaestor cut a hole in the floor large enough for the commando to fall through. The cut circle, fell with Fremoc following it immediately, hitting the ground below. He felt his wife was another level below him and immediately cut another circle in the floor, falling through that one as well. He knew he was on the right floor and opened the door before moving in the direction of this wife. He burst through a door but kept moving, getting closer and closer to his wife. He could sense her in danger.

The Templar finally knocked down the door that Teu, Soolin, and Locke occupied. Two cyborg-looking people were engaged with the trio. Teu's Force presence flared as Fremoc entered the room, happy with his arrival. The Quaestor leaped into the air delivering a drop kick to one of the nearest guard knocking it into the other one. The Templar rolled up to his feet and snapped his blade to life.

"This is going to be fun kids. Use everything at your disposal," said Fremoc.

Top Floor, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

As Fremoc began his descent to the lower floors, Kano approached his Aedile with a look of disbelief, "What happened to you?"
With a slight smile he responded, "What this? Just a flesh wound..." He paused for a moment before speaking more seriously, gesturing towards suited body sprawled across the floor, "These are the same kind of agents we ran into on Refuge, modified to hell and more than a handful for one of us. He caught me off guard, I wasn't expecting him to be waiting up here or else I would've picked a bigger room to fight in."
A slight nod from the Sergeant was silent agreement before he continued, "What about Fremoc? He couldn't help? I remember groups of us took them down with a little less...effort, on Refuge."
Shaking his head he responded quickly, "Busy with the other guy over there, see if either of them have a baton or two we can use as a splint and we'll finish clearing this floor. They need our help down there."
Kano nodded as he started a quick search, not overly hard to find what he sought on a steroid-driven biologically enhanced brute. He handed the batons to Methyas and let the man do his work as the sounds of fighting grew louder beneath them from the hole Fremoc had carved in the floor. The two felt rushed as the reports came in from the other three: civilians found, secured and awaiting extraction. With a quick yank on the last tear of cloth holding the batons in place, Methyas spoke into his communicator, "Araxis, take rear guard while Rang and Roxas take point, meet us at the stairwell again; Kano and I will scout ahead to ensure a safe path out of the complex."
Moving to place his weight on his leg caused to Knight to shudder slightly from the pain as the Templar moved to help him before Methyas waved him off, "I'll be fine, let's go."
As the two moved down towards the stairwell Kano kept an eye on his vode, the two had fought well during the events of Refuge but neither of them had taken a beating this bad in a while.

Making it to the stairwell with plenty of time to spare, Kano took his chance, "With all due respect, I think it should be myself and Roxas or Rang clearing the path. You're in no condition to be in any form of serious combat."
The Miraluka's brows furrowed for a moment and before he could speak the Mandalorian took his chance, "As commander of the GSF it's my job to ensure the Governor's safe, even off-world. I'm suggesting you take a backseat on this one."
Sighing heavily, Methyas nodded, "Agreed, for greater security for these civilians we need efficient point men. Take Roxas, you'll need a fighter and I think Rang and Araxis have a better chance of keeping me out of combat."
As they finished their discussion the three journeymen entered the stairwell with a small group of frightened civilians with them, Kano speaking swiftly, "Alright, change of plans. Roxas you're with me, give us a few minutes for an all clear then follow."

The group nodded as Templar and Protector flew down the stairs and began their search. The two remaining members of the Raptors took a look at their Aedile in disbelief while trying not to stare, the civilians muttering amongst themselves in a mixture of worry and wonder after their skilled rescue so far. The first clear came quickly, "Hallway clear, moving north-west towards outside wall."
Methyas shifted uncomfortably as he spoke up, "Let's move, stay close to us."
Withdrawing his NR3S and starting down the stairs awkwardly with Rang at his side, the two Mandalorians entering the room with their eyes quickly surveying the hall before the spoke in sequence, "Clear" "Clear".
Rang took point, quickly moving in the same direction as his brother with a stream of civilians following closely behind. Starting after him as maybe half of the group had cleared the doorway, the worst started as the sounds of gunfire could be heard from down the hall, "Encountered resistance, suggest alternate exit."
Methyas cursed as he looked between the two Raptors at either side of him, the group had stopped and it was obvious a good deal of the civilians were trying not to panic, "Rang! Get a charge on this wall, it'll give us an exit. Araxis, get up there and help them keep those hostiles away from us." The two nodded and leapt into action, the Hunter running down the hall with his NR3S at the ready as Methyas turned his attention to the south end of the hall.

The tension in the air was thick as the Knight started motioning for the civilians to group near him on the opposite wall, keeping them at a safe distance as the sounds of gunfire grew closer and the sounds of footfalls grew louder, "Rang! We need that charge..."
"Armed, get back!"

As the more heavily armoured Mandalorian helped push the civilians farther back he clicked the detonator causing the hall behind him to flash brilliantly before dust and debris filled the area. The sound of Methyas shouted was all that could be heard next, "Get them out of here! Move! Move! Move!"
With his attention still focused on the south end of the hall, Rang started outside with a slight rattling of his NR3S clearing the resistance near the wall, "Clear! Go, run for the far end of the island! We'll have transports waiting."
Leaning against the wall inside Methyas had his brows furrowing as Kano's voice rose over the communicator again, "Resistance eliminated, what the hell just happened?"
Methyas shook his head as he ran his hand through his hair, "We used a charge to make an exit, you were taking too long. Everyone regroup, we need to get to the others and find Deliverance."

Shuttle en route to The Bastion

The craft jostled as it passed through a rising thermal updraft over the jungle, momentarily shaking Tsainetomo from his reverie. He had been seated on the bench across from the supine Battlemaster, his fingers steepled in front of his face as they always were whenever he’d been in thought. Malisane paced the aisle between them, muttering under his breath and stealing murderous glances towards the Sadowan’s prisoner.

Sai had plenty reason to be introspective as of late. His initial investigations had put the Clan on the right path towards bringing down the rabble who wanted to play at ‘terrorist’, but those actions alone, he’d felt, were not justification for the gaining of his newest position.

Proconsul. Of Clan Naga Sadow.

Even tumbled around in his thoughts, the words gave Sai a heady feeling, like sipping a good aged whiskey. Still, experience had taught him better, and though he knew not to look a gift akk-dog in the jowls, the Epis knew that a conversation with his cousin the Consul would be in order. He’d have to tread lightly, though. “Why?” was a question that one may regret having had asked, and subsequently have answered.

Somewhere, he knew, Dyrra was laughing. He’d confided to her months ago that he’d felt that he was ill-suited to bear the ‘shackles of leadership’, as he eloquently put it; yet, despite his best efforts, here he was. Leading. Administrating.

Shackled.

Dyrra, he’d decided, was not laughing. She was flat out guffawing.

A sharp word from Malisane dragged him back to the present. “Apostate!" he’d spat, as if saying the word would clear the disgust that racked his frame. Sai looked up, raising a single eyebrow.

“Hmm?”

“This offal here,” Malisane gestured contemptuously, his eyes feral and dark. “He will pay for his treachery.” The promise in his tone spoke volumes as to what he’d planned.

“Yes, he does look like Bob, doesn’t he?” The Keibatsu offered, his fingers steepling seemingly of their own accord. “I’m sure he’ll have quite the tale to tell.”

If Malisane took heed to Sai’s deflection, his agreeing without agreeing, the Sith gave no hint. “What, did we take the long way to the Bastion? Pilot!” His impatience getting the better of him, he ambled down the aisle towards the shuttle’s cockpit, eager to loose some of his wrath on someone.

Another updraft shook the craft once more, easing Tsainetomo back into a reflective reverie. Tabling the inner debate as to his ascendancy, he focused his considerable faculties back to their prisoner. ‘Bob Fett’, Malisane had said his name was. As soon as they arrived at the Bastion, Sai would start a bot running. Scour the ether. Get some answers.

“Yes, my friend; I’m sure you’ll have quite the tale to tell.” The Proconsul’s voice trailed as the shuttle leapt forward, the pilot no doubt able to coax more power out of the craft at Malisane’s not-so-subtle urging.

The Bastion
Aeotheran Jungle

The shuttle landed on the ground outside the almost featureless black marble building. After a few seconds the hatch opened and Sai strode out, followed by Malisane carrying the still unconsious Battlemaster. Sai turned around to regard the Battlelord. "We could get one of the soldiers to do that."
Malisane shook his head, "We don't have time to wait while some soldier attempts the trials and dies in the first few seconds."
Sai noted the sarcasm. "Very well." He turned and strode forward and up the steps, reaching the black metal doors. He reached a hand out and touched the metal and immediatley they swung open revealing the black stone interior and the suddenly igniting torches. As they entered they both felt the familiar welcoming presense and a sense of euphoria that even somewhat dampened Malisane's nfury as the Bastion consiousness greeted them.
"The main hall ought to be suitable," Sai commented and the Battlelord shrugged and followed down the corridor to the doors at the end which automatically swung open. Inside the great hall a large fire burst into life and torches around the room illuminating several wood tables and benches and a large throne at one end that belonged to the Sergeant at Arms. Around the room various weapons and tapestries depicting Clan victiories down the ages adorned the walls. Malisane unceremoniusly dumped the unconsious Rowaan on the table. "Right."

"I'll wake him up," Sai said after a few seconds, "be ready if he tries anything, Bob is lethal when he's cornered."
"He wasn't so impressive earlier," Malisane grunted, "he seemed off his game, luckily."
Sai considered this for a moment, then reached out with the force giving the unconsious Battlemaster's mind a none too friendly slap. A second later the Epis gasped, gritting his teeth, as his feet buckled under him and he sank to his knees clutching his head in agony.
"Sai!" Malisane shouted, then he too felt the waves of hostile force energy assaulting him, ripping through his consiousness as something old and malignant and angry attacked. He sagged against the table clutching it as he fought to resist. "That's not Bob!" he shouted, "he doesn't have that much power!"
"It's the Bastion," Sai shouted back through the pain, "it's trying to kill us!"

As Malisane fought off the assault as best he could he heard a metallic sound behind them and glanced to see half a dozen metallic skeletons emerge from the shadows, blue lightsabers igniting in their fists as they fanned out around the two Sadows. Malisane knew them, the guardians installed who knew how long ago to test applicants and intruders. Now they came hunting blood at the command of the consiousness that sought to kill. In his weakened state Sai snapped out with the force, striking telekinetically at the first skeleton and it fell over hitting the floor with a clatter, as the remaining five continued. Malisane's saber was in his hand and through his blurred pain wracked vision he raised it to block an incoming saber, just catching it. Sai pushed himself up, staggering across to stand next to the Battlelord as the sixth droid got to his feet. Malisane's saber snapped left and right blocking incoming saber thrusts and slashes, and Sai tried to drive the droids back though he stuggled to concentrate as the Bastion kept up the mental assault on him. Malisane gasped as a saber thrust slipped past his defance and bit through his light armour, burning along his side, and distracted for a second the mental assault overcame him and he fell, struggling to rise. Finally his eyes closed as he lost consiousness.
The Pro Consul was desperate now, he too felt his strength draining and his will to resist wa almost gone. He backed away clutching his saber, as two of the automatons moved towards the prone Battlelord, and there was nothing Sai could do to help him. Finally he too collasped, his saber falling from his grip as he hit the floor. Above he saw a black droid raise it's glowing saber to strike. He was helpless.

When he died, Sai never expected the ‘reel-to-reel’ of his life to be so strangely…

…absent.

The droid approached inexorably, and the waves of malice continued to crash upon his psyche, incapacitating him. The pain was such that he could scarcely form a coherent thought. But, form one, he did. He hoped that his cousin would raze this forsaken place to the bedrock.

As if sensing the Epis’ notion, the Bastion responded, and the assault intensified, coaxing a moan from Malisane’s throat as the two droids that were poised to strike him drew ever closer. Clan Naga Sadow was about to lose two of its finest warriors. The tributes to them would be glorious and well-earned.

Suddenly, a singular voice put a halt to Sai’s and Malisane’s funeral.

STOP!

Cutting through the white noise of the mental assault, and through the clanging and whining of machinery, the sound of Bob Rowaan’s command was clear and full of surety, as if its owner had finally found a familiar place, and the confidence that comes with it.

Still weakened, Tsainetomo rolled over to see the droid’s lightsaber hovering scant inches above his head. The Keibatsu blinked as he heard similar stirrings in Malisane’s direction, and he could scarce contain his surprise when the lightsaber’s blade slurped its way back into its housing. Sitting up was an effort, but as the droid retreated, Sai managed to pull his weakened body up to gauge the situation. What he saw amazed him more than the sight of the Bastion’s guardians sparing them.

Bob Rowaan had arisen.

What’s more, he seemed in full command of his capacities. The droids were actually deferring to him, one of them even producing a med kit to administer to the ‘saber wound to his arm that Malisane had given him back at the resort.

“Although they don’t deserve it, we must show these traitors to Astronicus’ Name more hospitality than they would us…after all, they are guests in the house of Primus Goluud.”

Rowaan looked around as the smells and sights of the Bastion flooded his awareness…and he felt an emotion he’d hadn’t since he did getting tangled up with Deliverance and her ilk.

That emotion wasn’t happiness, nor was it relief.

Rowaan felt in control.

Basement, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

‘He is gone,’ Deliverance said, her voice acerbic, ‘and he has taken two of their strongest with him.’ Her nose wrinkled as she scented the air again.

Kelvert and Carolides frowned at her in unison. ‘Err, boss?’ Kelvert said. She glanced up at them from where she still sat in the red leather armchair, a wry grin crossed her cheeks. ‘How do you know Bob’s... gone?’ The powerfully built man glanced around the room, an uneasy look in his eyes. They could still hear gunfire. ‘I didn’t hear anything from any of the teams.’

Her grin faded. ‘Of course you wouldn’t,’ she began, ‘he wields the weapons of our enemy.’ Kelvert frowned slightly. ‘Lightsabers,’ she explained. ‘I am talking about lightsabers. They probably thought he was another of our assailants.’

‘Riiight,’ Kelvert said, slowly.

The man remained cool and collected, about that she was sure; she still wished they would tell her where they came from, who they worked for, what their link to her was; perhaps more than anything, it troubled her the Jedi would stand against her. Did they not stand on the side of justice? Did they not stand up against slavery? What did all of this have to do with the Galactic Alliance? She was missing something profoundly fundamental here...

It angered her not to have the answers, but she would. And soon.

‘So—you can smell them?’ Kelvert added, after a moment.

She nodded. ‘They are near. Their stink is strong.’ For a brief moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of satisfaction cross the two men’s faces. ‘It won’t be long now.’

In perfect synchronisation, more evidence than was ever needed of the pair’s shared origins, Kelvert and Carolides double checked their weaponry. Crushgaunts, with inbuilt mini-rockets. Vambraces, lightsaber resistant wrist guards. Verpine shatter pistols. And many, many more weapons and devices that Deliverance couldn’t recognise. She knew enough, however, to know they were the weaponry of Jedi killers.

‘You come prepared,’ she said.

Carolides’s eyes glinted with a feral hunger as he smiled, the Trandoshan showing his full set of sharp, savage teeth. ‘We always are.’

‘I mean...’ she began. ‘It’s as if you knew the enemy we faced.’ Neither of them answered right away, but the pheromones they gave off were unmistakable. She smiled, although there was no warmth in her expression. ‘You cannot lie to me.’

‘That we most definitely cannot,’ Kelvert said. ‘Don’t worry. Once we have dealt with Dlarit, you will have your answers.’

Five floors above Fremoc

"Damn It! Are we there yet! I don't think they can keep running much longer" Roxas said refering to the large group of civies they have rescued. "Five floors and we've caught up. Give the Civilians a short breather." Kano orderd.

The entire group of civies exhausted hit the floor with an enormous sigh of releif. " In five minutes we'll get going again." Kano said, causing the entire group to gasp and one actually shouted "Slave driver!"

Five boring minutes later

The group of civies lazily got up and they started off down the stairwell. As they got down a flight of steps the door below them opened and an enormous wave of sentries came running at them. bolts of crimson flying back and forth, sentries dropping left and right it seemed never ending, with every dead sentry, two would take his place. Roxas's NR3S jammed! and he was forced to pull his NR2S pistol.

"Thanks for leaving us all the fun, Fremoc!" Roxas said as Araxis reached the front of the group to help out with the waves of enemy souldiers. Finally the sentries stopped comming and they continued on down the stair well, checking every door they came to looking for more civies. Finally they reached Fremoc's door and took a minute to calm them selves incase there are more soldiers on the other side of the door.

Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran


Kano yelled at the civvies, "Now get the hell outta here, we got business!" As the group pushed by and made their way towards the exit Kano pulled the Verpine sniper rifle from his back. The large Mandalorian shoved Roxas against the wall.

"Keep your weapons in check."

Kano placed his back to the wall and signaled for a quick breach. Araxis kicked the door from its hinges only to reveal Fremoc looking strait back at them. The Quaestor just shook his head as the team came into the room.

"About time you joined us."

Kano heard those few words then became distracted by a blinking message on the HUD inside his helmet. The Templar opened the new message and read over the words very carefully. It was something that would change his life forever. Kano opened his link with Fremoc to advise of a situation.

"I am moving to the hall to continue cover."

Kano broke communication and exited the room into the hall. The armored Templar moved as fast as he could through the halls and came to the dinning area. The Mandalorian kicked the backdoor open and stepped outside. Just what he was hoping for was sitting there. Kano climbed into the food transport and started his journey to his homeworld, to Mandalore.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

As Locke fell, he grunted, feeling something in his chest crack. For a few moments he just laid there, trying to move, surprised by the force of the impact. There had been times during the Vong war when he had been hit, or knocked over, but he’d never broken a bone in his life, if that was what this was. He rolled onto his side, wincing in pain, and watched a flurry of blades match each other for a few moments, before one winked out, and Malisane moved past Locke.

Clutching one hand to his side, Locke got up to one knee. He looked around; Teu and Soolin had already gotten back up, and were facing two guards. Even in pain as he was, Locke realized those were stronger than usual. A second later, as the pair began to engage the two, a door behind the guards collapsed in a flurry of dust and splinters; Fremoc flying through with his foot outstretched, catching one of the guards in the chest. As Fremoc landed and collected himself, the guards stumbled together. Even as strong as they were; the force of the kick had stunned them for a moment.

Slowly Locke got to his feet, panting. The pain, he realized, was making it hard to breathe. Of course I would land just right to crack a bone… His luck had held out before, but this seemed to be the end of it. While clutching his side, he only had one hand free, and while it looked like the three had the fight in capable hands, Locke had always been taught during the war that things weren’t as they seemed, and that he should keep fighting if it all possible. After all, it only took the pull of a trigger to fire a blaster.

Looking around, Locke quickly located where his blaster had been thrown from his hand, and pulled it to himself with the Force. By now, Teu and Fremoc were engaging one of the guards, beating him away quickly, their motions fluid and almost as one entity. Locke had heard of Force bonds between lovers, but he had never seen it or its effectiveness until now. Turning to Soolin, Locke noted she was not having quite as easy of a time, so he raised his blaster, using the Force to steady himself, and fired. The bolt clipped the shoulder of the guard, but it was enough to distract him, allowing Soolin’s blade to dig into his other shoulder as he turned. Dig in…and meet resistance. Locke wondered why it had not gone all the way through as the guard’s own weapon fell to the ground. Surprisingly, the guard howled in pain as he knocked Soolin back, disengaging her lightsaber from his shoulder. Then he quieted much too quickly for any ordinary living, and turned to Locke and started moving forward, as if the wound didn’t hurt him at all. How… was all Locke had time to think, as a swiping arm smashed across his chest, sending him flying into the wall behind him.

Falling with a grunt, Locke looked up. At least this time, no bones had broken, but his wound might’ve gotten a little worse. Still no excuse to stop fighting… Looking around for anything he could use, Locke found the guard’s discarded weapon; some sort of blaster. Lifting his hand off his chest, he pulled it into that hand. Now holding both weapons, Locke leaned back against the wall, propping them against himself, and he fired both. One missed wildly, but the other hit the guard’s shoulder, only stopping him a little bit. He kept moving. Cursing, Locke drew on the Force to steady his body as he propped the two weapons against his chest. He fired again. This time both hit the guard’s chest, but he was only stunned a bit before moving forward again.

Refusing to give up, Locke continued to fire, as quickly as he could now. He put bolt after bolt into the guard’s chest, as the guard advanced until he was standing over Locke. The thought of dying never crossed Locke’s mind. He had been in situations like this during the war, and wasn’t going to let some over-medicated grunt kill him now. Abruptly, the guard stopped as Soolin’s lightsaber dug into his side and slowly pushed out his chest. The guard growled, preparing to bring his foot down on Locke. Grinning, Locke growled back, mockingly, firing continuously at the cavity opened by Soolin’s lightsaber until the guard, with his foot half in the air, suddenly grunted and began to collapse. Just before he could fall on Locke, an armor-covered fist slammed into the guard’s side, sending it toppling over beside Locke.

Looking up and around, Locke noticed Roxas standing over him, dressed in full armor, with Methyas limping beside him, and Araxis and Rang nearby. “About time you metal heads showed up-“ Locke began, just as the wall behind the group blew apart, and two more of the guards moved through and raised rifles of some kind. “Behind you! Watch it!” Locke shouted, as he sighted them through the group’s legs. As one, they turned to meet the new attackers, and Locke, injured as he was, watched, hoping for a chance to fire again, but this time he didn’t think he would have much of a chance to help as the group engaged the guards.

Main Floor, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The group had rushed into this chamber faster than he had expected and it had cost them their element of surprise. Without so much of a breather after Roxas helped Locke from being crushed under one of the brutish men, two more of the enhanced soldiers burst from the door behind them. Rang cursed to himself inside his helmet as the group moved to duck behind the nearest "solid" object they could find, a series of shots fired from both sides as Araxis chimed in with a sarcastic tone, "Isn't it great when they just come out of the woodwork?"
Roxas laughed for a second before responding, "Just the way I like it."

As the slugthrowers and blasters paired against each other, Methyas couldn't help but find a bit of humour in the situation, "An Archpriestess, a Templar, two Knights, two Hunters, two Guardians and a Protector...and we still manage to get pinned down in the lobby."
Listening as the sounds of combat seemed to slow, Methyas felt out in the chamber as he started to get a feel for his clan-mates. The sudden crash of a body next to him shook him loose from his thoughts. A quick smile on her face calmed his nerves before the second body leapt over the overturned desk, "Hey apprentice."
Methyas relaxed for a second before the sounds of gunfire stopped. He waited for a moment before a voice spoke up from the other end of the chamber, "Thanks for the warning guys!"

Fremoc and Teu laughed for a moment as they recognized Jade's voice, everyone rising from cover slowly; Locke getting a bit of help from Roxas as Rang helped Methyas off the ground. Fremoc, Teu and Jade made their quick glances around the room as virtually everyone present reach out in the Force in some way to check the surrounding chambers, "Seems clear, that guy and most of those guards came through those doors; I think that's our best route down."
"Any other routes?"
"As far as I can recall from the floor plans, that's it."

With an almost simultaneous nod the three turned to the rest of them, Teu speaking candidly, "Two injured and the rest seem fit."
Locke responded quickly, "I'm not down yet, I can still use a gun."
Methyas nodded before chiming in as well, "Plus we can always use the Force if we need to, if they're fighting dirty so can we."
Again the three nodded before starting towards the doors towards the basement, Fremoc speaking up as he moved, "It's not like we'd be able to convince you not to fight if we tried, let's go."

Forming around the doors the group seemed unsure of what was the happen until Fremoc and Jade seemed to share a silent conversation, before Jade spoke, "Mix the group up, Fremoc and Araxis can take point with Teu and I covering the rear. The rest of you can fill in the middle however you like. Alright, let's move."

Main Floor, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Fremoc and Araxis wasted little time moving forward towards the basement. Araxis kept his NR3S leveled ahead of him, and didn't see what Fremoc was doing. The Templar had removed an armory lightsaber from another compartment on his person, and tapped it on the Hunter's shoulder. Araxis looked over to his master with shock, not knowing that he was finally getting an armory blade.

"Th-thank you, master," stammered the unsuspecting Jedi Hunter.

"Use it well until your promotion to Dark Knight," said the Templar gruffly.

"Yes, master." Fremoc walked towards the door, and began to descend them. He could feel his wife watching his every move, and feel her utter joy. At the same time he could feel her anger, her raw emotion, and tried to calm her. He reached out even further and felt Deliverance, as well as a couple of guard near her. He could feel where the bomb was.

The group got to a landing on their way down to the basement, and Fremoc stopped. The rest of the group looked at him as he pulled off his helmet and removed the canteen from the small of his back. He took a sip from it. Teu started to shake her head.

"Your going to drink at a time like this?" said his wife.

"Can't die thursty," he replied as he handed it to Methyas, who took a swig, before passing it on.

"The man has a point Teu," said Rang as he took a swig. The canteen went to every person before it returning back to the Quaestor, who took another swig of the drink. He closed the lid and attached it to his belt, and then putting his helmet back on. The group began moving again, getting ever closer to the terrorist leader. The final steps where in sight.

It's time...

Robert Fett waited patiently while thousands of number sequences rained down the blood-splattered monitor screen as the Administrator tapped on the broken data terminal’s keypad. Bob could feel the Administrator’s tension in the dark side; after twelve years of failed attempts to break the Installation’s security, it was a miracle the Administrator had not surrendered to hopelessness. Like everyone else. But they had reasons to fight for.

Someone hugged Bob’s waist, and he dragged his eyes away from the monitor screen.

Cessa looked up at him and smiled, her bright silvery eyes shining beautifully like two tiny little moons.

‘What're ya doin', daddy?’

The Bastion
Restricted Zone, somewhere in the Vigrian rainforest, Aeotheran

The Bastion whispered in the back of his mind as Robert ran his hand down the engravings on the black stone wall, dusting away the cobwebs, while the guardian droids saw to the two intruders behind him. Though the paint had long since worn off, the stone etchings appeared to tell the fortress’s history, depicting a group of humanoids—the natives, Bob assumed— prostrating themselves after the arrival of a species of hammer-headed aliens. Much of the rest of the story was missing; it looked as if the natives had rebelled, rallying behind a female holding an ornate sceptre, or perhaps it was a sword, the engravings were unclear.

‘It really is an interesting story,’ he said, without turning away. ‘The mural.’

One of the captives heaved a cough. ‘Whhhy?’ the man struggled. ‘Why did you betray us?’

The Warrior of Primus Goluud turned around, and grinned at the sight of the tips of the guardian droids’ energy blades virtually glancing the two men’s throats. ‘Betray?’ he repeated the word slowly. Then his grin abruptly vanished. ‘I haven’t betrayed anyone.’

The second of the two men, the one who looked as though he’d had a bad run-in with a lava pit, flinched involuntarily, the movement nearly costing him his head. The man’s eyes blazed with the fire of the dark side, but he didn’t say anything.

Bob smirked, running a hand across the grey shoulder pad of the nearest guardian. ‘Strange,’ he mused, ‘that they should serve me. But then, I did not prostitute myself to the Admiralty.’

The Krath before him frowned. ‘The Admiralty?’ the man repeated, sounding confused.

‘Don’t treat me like a fool,’ Bob said, his patience thinning. This... Bastion clearly understood true servants of the Sith Empire from false. ‘You sold yourselves out to the Grand Admiral.’

Though the Burned One continued to glare murderously at him, Bob felt genuine confusion inside the Krath. ‘The... Grand Admiral?’ The man’s eyes scanned the room. ‘I only know of one Grand Admiral, and that was long, long ago.’

‘For you perhaps,’ Bob hissed, ‘but you know what they say about the sins of the father. Your hands are stained with the blood of your elders’ crimes as sure as if they were your own.’ He reached out with the dark side... then recoiled the second he brushed against the two men. They were shadows of the overlord. How can this be?! ‘What are you!’ Bob demanded.

‘We are Sons of Sadow,’ the Burned One finally spoke. ‘And you are a traitor—’

Before the words were out of the man’s mouth, the droid in front of him was shoved backwards by a blast of black energy; he must have been charging it up while they spoke. He leapt to his feet, and reached out to the guardian droid keeping the other at bay, tore at its servos with his fingers, ripped out its primary power core, kicked the damaged droid away.

In the corridor behind, more droids whirred to life, pouring into the atrium to Bob’s defence.

FOLLOW.

The voice boomed in Robert’s mind. He didn’t move, and just watched as the droids weapons buzzed into life and surged toward the two whose forefathers had defiled the name of Sadow.

LEAVE. FOLLOW.

The thunderous voice assaulted him again. Images of the Bastion’s corridors flooded his mind.

Images of Administrator Omega.

Bob understood. The fortress. The voice. The map. All breadcrumbs left by the Consul.

He took one last glance at the two defilers as they battled for their lives, then spun on his heels and took off into the unlit darkness of the Bastion’s interior, following the voice...

The Bastion
Restricted Zone, somewhere in the Vigrian rainforest, Aeotheran


It was hopeless, as the traitor ran Malisane raised his saber to block another thrust. The pressure on his mind was still there weakening him and dulling his force abilities but it had lessened slightly, perhaps knowing that the Sith and the Krath were weakening enough not to require it. “We have to do something!”
Malisane snarled, ignoring the Pro Consul. He was angry. The Bastion had betrayed him, as many had before. It had called to him, lead his battered body to it and after passing it’s tests it had given him the vision of the future, renewing his faith in the Clan and his beliefs. Now it had cast him aside. Fury and hatred surged through his normal calm as his blood boiled. A droid saber knocked his own aside and his anger reached a peak as the automation thrust it’s glowing blade towards him and he waited for death.

He frowned. The blade was hovering a few inches from his face but unmoving. Had the Bastion called off the attack? He glanced aside and saw a tableau of frozen forms, the Pro Consul, the Droids, even the fires had stopped flickering. “I see you’ve made a mess of things again De Ath,” a familiar sarcastic voice said with a laugh.
Malisane gaped in astonishment as dark haired man with an eyepatch eased himself past a droid in the doorway and entered the room.
“You’re dead,” Malisane said.
Agrist gave him a withering look with his single eye. “Well done. Your command of current events must be a great asset to the Clan. It should also tell you your number is nearly up. Tough luck but it happens to the best of us.”
Malisane closed his eyes wearily. The mercenary had annoyed him in life, what was he doing here now? “What’s going on? Are you Agrist?”
The mercenary Sith shrugged. “Maybe. I might have force transferred into a Sith spirit. I might have been brought back from the dead by the Bastion. I might be a hallucination, or a,” he paused for a second and took a breath, “ manifestation your self conscious has created forming a familiar figure you can reason with to process information by giving you a similiar mind to bounce it off.”
“Well which are you?”
“None of them,” Agrist replied with a grin, “Now listen because this is important. Your imminent death is the least of your problems De Ath. Your Clan faces a great threat, well two actually but the first is closer to hand."
"Deliverance?"
"Of course not," Agrist scoffed, "your people on the island will deal with her you wouldn't be here if you believed otherwise. You've already met part of it, but you need to identify it to beat it before it hits you first. If that happens your Clan is finished."
"You could just tell me what it is."
"Actually no I'm working within limitations here," Agrist replied, "you have to deal with your more immediate problem."
"The Bastion and my death."
Agrist nodded. "Bang on target."
"Can you tell me that much?"
Agrist paused sitting down on a bench. "Figure it out. You know a limited amount about the Bastion but not everything, you're still new to it. It isn't sentient in any way you can understand it's old and elemental. What you do know is that clearly your enemy has a stronger connection than you which is why it ripped you up when you threatened him and why you're about to die. It is with you though, when it summoned you it formed a connection and entered your mind. It's given you a vision, and it helps you but you don't know enough to control it. It's still present in your mind though."
"So how do I defeat it?"
Agrist looked at him for a few seconds. "Connections often go both ways."
Malisane studied him, then stepped forward. "Very well." His fist snapped out and smashed into the mercenary's jaw, sending him sprawling backwards onto the bench and the room blurred.

He found himself looking once more at the saber blade hovering in front of his face. The droids were still frozen, and the torches and the fire were out now, the room lit only by their sabers. He stared into the dead eyes of the droid as a voice said. "What happened?"
Malisane backed away from the blade then turned to Sai. "I doubt we have long we need to leave."
The Pro Consul studied him in confusion then nodded. "Very well." He turned pushing a droid aside and walked to the door. It failed to open. He pushed it, then Malisane joined him and they threw all their weight and remaining strength at it and it gave tumbling them into the pitch black corridor.
"We have to hurry," Malisane said keeping his glowing silver blade ahead of him as he made his way to the exit.
"What about Bob?"
"There's nothing we can do now. Hurry!"
Sai nodded and followed.

Private Room, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

A tray of drinks crashed to the floor as gunfire sounded outside the room, accompanied by loud shouting. The serving girl let out a scream as she backed away from the door, hands to her mouth- all hell seemed to have broken loose outside the room. From where he sat in a comfortable lounger, Manji glanced across at her laconically; he'd ordered Darla to reroute any communications to him to those leading the assault, so that the suspicions of the staff here at the villa wouldn't be aroused, but the noise suggested that the time for deception was past.

As the serving girl continued to back away from the door, eyes wide with horror, Manji casually got to his feet and turned away from her, striding into the adjacent room- his private sleeping quarters. Returning almost instantly, the Pontifex let out a grin of satisfaction as he thumbed two activation switches, the razor-edged hum of two 'saber blades filling the room. The serving girl whirled round to face him and screamed again, her terror laced with blind, panicked uncertainty- should she risk her chances in the corridor or in here with a Jedi?

Before she could make the decision, Manji reached into the Force and carefully aimed a precise strike at her temple. Unconscious, she collapsed onto the lounger as the Pontifex turned to the holoterminal in one corner of the room and deactivated one saber, slipping it through his belt as he began to type one-handed. The screen flickered and Darla appeared, her expression calm.

"Keibatsu-dono- you're aware the assault has started?"

Cocking an ear to the sounds of battle coming from the corridor outside, Manji grinned at her.

"Just an inkling, yes. Do I have any urgent messages?"

"Yes, my lord- one from your former apprentice and another from a caller unknown to us."

Manji's brow wrinkled in surprise.

"Put Dyrra on."

The screen flashed briefly, and the image of his former apprentice appeared suddenly, her face dark. There was a brief pause as she drew breath, then Manji cut her off, his mouth twisting in amusement.

"You've dyed your hair. Purple? Cut even shorter and spiked up? What on Tarthos-"

Dyrra growled angrily at him.

"People were recognising me in the street! I wanted to stop that from happening! But anyway, where the kark are you?"

Manji chuckled quietly as he responded.

"I'm inside the Lor Zatean villa, preparing to unleash hell on some unsuspecting terrorists. Yourself? I imagine Fremoc could rather use your saber right now- from the sound of things, they're not making quite as good progress as they should be."

Dyrra smirked momentarily, the brief flash of arrogance at her perceived superiority over her Ragnosian counterpart shining through.

"I'm at Marakith, but I'll jump on a shuttle. Give me fifteen minutes to dig that Mando'ade wannabe out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into. Out."

The holoscreen flickered off briefly, to be replaced by Darla's face once again. One of her eyebrows tweaked upwards as she spoke.

"And now your unknown caller, my lord?"

Manji's face slid back into a serious mien as he nodded.

"Sure, put 'em on."

The holoscreen flickered once again, and then a shadowy face appeared, scarred and tattooed, a manic grin plastered across its features. Manji's good eye widened in shocked surprise before his own mouth twisted upwards into a grin.

"Well, if this ain't a surprise! What can I do for you, my friend?"

Kar Alabrek
Tarthos
31 ABY

Robert Sadow walked the halls of the ruined Ragnos Cathedral with his new apprentice Fremoc Pepoi, the new Ragnosian Aedile. The Cathedral was littered with burn marks on the walls, fallen components to the building, and dead bodies of Yuuzhan Vong, Dark Jedi, Peace Brigands, and Dlarit troopers. The Dark Library had been destroyed, most of the work that had been in there was burned and no longer readable. Fremoc’s still youthful face conveyed sadness and anger at the same time for the loss of the Dark Library.

“Don’t worry about the Dark Library,” said the Warlord.

“But all of the work that everyone has done!” replied the Pepoi.

“There is much that you haven’t learned yet young apprentice.” The two continued deeper into the bowels of the ruined Cathedral. The Knight had never been this deep into the Cathedral’s underbelly. He wondered if he was only allowed down this far because no one was either around, or it was due to his promotion to Aedile. The two worked their way deeper until they finally reached a door. “This, is the Sadow Library, where everything is kept from the days that Clan Naga Sadow was originally a House.”

“So nothing was truly lost with the Dark Library?”

“Absolutely nothing. All of that was the copies and edited copies of work that everyone had done. The true work is in here.” Bob moved closer to the door, before pressing his hand on it. The door slid upwards, and disappeared from sight. The Warlord waved the Knight forward to the entrance. The library was vast, far more vast than the Dark Library was. Awe was plastered onto the Knight’s face as he looked into the library. “Everything is in here. Absolutely everything, including some work from our current Grand Master.”

Fremoc couldn’t believe what he was looking at, walls of texts. “This… could rival the Shadow Academy.”

Bob chuckled at the thought. “No, the Shadow Academy holds far more than this. They have more than all 6 clans combined.” With a nudge, Bob pulled Fremoc back through the door’s entrance and into the hallway again, causing the door to shut them out once more. “In time you will be able to go into here. Your still young, and now isn’t the time for you to have access to it.” The sounds of footsteps behind them made the Aedile turn almost instinctively reaching for his lightsaber. “Ah, good, you are here.”

A Dlarit Captain saluted Bob, “Yes, sir. Couple hundred troopers are here as you ordered sir. We will begin reconstruction as soon as possible.”

“Good, but I have a primary function for you. Defend this position with your lives.”

“This position sir?”

“This exact position, needs to be defended with yours and your troopers life. This,” Bob pointed at the door ,“has vital intel that can’t fall into the wrong hands. Understand that trooper?”

“Yes, sir. My men will form barricades and everything in our power to defend it.”

“Good man.” The two Dark Jedi moved out of the hallway and towards the surface. “Everyone leave Kar Alabrek?”

“Everyone that wanted to, there are stragglers that refuse to leave their homes,” said Fremoc.

“As long as Marka Ragnos has left, and are either in the semi finished Markosian City or Mucenic.”

“Yes everyone from Marka Ragnos is there.”

“Good, I have a feeling that we won’t be here for quite some time.”

Beneath Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

When it came Locke’s turn for the canteen, he passed it on to the one behind him. As Roxas took a long swig, a couple others shook their heads at Locke. “What, you don’t drink?”

“Nah, “Locke replied, “ don’t need something messin’ with my head when I’m about to go into combat.” Someone laughed, but Locke ignored it. He’d put up with this during the war, and he wasn’t going to let it get to him now.

“You sure?” Fremoc said.

“Yes!” Locke replied, rolling his eyes slightly. They had their way, and he had his, he wasn’t going to change now.

The rest of the group hardly had time to finish before Jade warned them that the group in the next room was alert. “They’re ready for us,” she whispered just loud enough for the group to hear.

“Let’s greet them then, “Fremoc said, readying his lightsaber.

“Wait, what happened to Kano?” Roxas interrupted. Locke looked around; he didn’t see the Mandalorian anywhere.

Fremoc turned back. “He said something about covering the exit. No time to worry about that now; we have to stop Deliverance before she sets off that bomb. “Alright, “ Fremoc continued, now-“ he stopped as a massive rumble rocked the villa beneath their feet, causing motes of dust to fall from the ceiling above and fill the room. It sounded like an explosion, but it was far too small to be the bomb. Half a second passed, and then Locke felt the floor below him collapse. As he began to fall, something pulled him back into the air, and to safety above. Briefly, he looked across the hole to the rest of the group, noting that Jade had her hand out. Must’ve been her; thanks Jade.

Seconds later, blaster fire began flying through the opening, as well as up the stairs, toward the front of the group, where Fremoc was standing. As one the rest of those with lightsabers lit their weapons, beginning to block the shots back down, but they didn’t let up, keeping most of the group pinned between them. These guys are way too good. Locke thought, as he fired back down, Roxas and Methyas the only other two not trapped in the crossfire. Methyas had his lightsaber out, blocking stray shots back down, but most were going toward the middle, and Roxas had a carbine in hand; blasting away. Then a thermal detonator flew through the opening, landing on the platform in the middle, right at someone’s feet. Judging by the loud curse from Fremoc, the same had happened at the opposite end. It was a brilliant plan. Whoever was down there with Deliverance had really put a lot of thought into it.

but we’re better…

Reacting almost instantly, as one, Fremoc dived back, into the hole, pulling Teu with him, as Methyas dropped behind him, with Roxas next. Araxis was right with them as well. Jade jumped in the middle of them all. Lightsabers flashed and blasters roared as they disappeared into the maelstrom below, the total darkness only pierced by blades and blaster fire. That left only Locke above, and he tucked his legs close and somersaulted backward as the two detonators exploded, creating a bright explosion over those that dropped down, one that would probably blind anyone trying to hit them.

“Not how I’d do it, but I suppose it works, “ Locke mumbled, shrugging to himself, before laying on his chest, leaning over the edge, steadying himself, and reaching out with the Force. At this range, he couldn’t see anything, but he could probably get a few shots off with his pistol if he could sense in the Force. He readied the weapon, feeling outward and watching the chaos.

He could make out the shimmer of a few blades, noting who was where. The group had formed a sort of semi-circle in the darkness, but was quickly fanning out. Ahead of them, Locke reached out and sensed the now telltale murky presence of at least three more enhanced guards. There were two others as well-where rapid blaster fire and was coming from, and those must’ve been Deliverance’s minions. Beyond them… “The witch herself…” Locke whispered. Her presence felt angry, but focused, and then it moved forward with lightning speed. “Watch out!” Locke yelled, firing blinding at her, hoping vainly that the thought would distract her enough to give the rest of the group below some warning as she charged straight for them.

Ten miles off the coast of Dlarit Beach
Aeotheran

A large flock of seabirds swooped and cried out to each other over the still water below, the sun sparkling off the unusually calm ocean. One saw a prey and dived down, slicing through the top of the water and rising triumphantly with the struggling fish in it's claws, its wings flapping as around it jealous rivals screamed at it then sought their own prizes. Suddenly they scattered in alarm as something large silent and invisible dived through them splattering many before hitting the ocean with an erruption of water and disappearing into the deeps. As the survivors swooped back down curiously the ripples and sprray slowly faded and the sea became calm again.

The captain of the Enlightenment sat back sipping a cup of strong tea, watching her bridge crew go about their duties with quiet efficiency. Finally a lieutenant stood and saluted. "The computer reports we are at target destination and depth Captain."
She nodded. "Disengage cloaking device. Engage scanners and receivers and launch aquatic probes."
"Yes Captain."
She watched as the screen flickered to show panicked marine life scatter as the sleek black ship materialised just above the ocean floor. She waited a few seconds until the image changed to show a view of the beaches and cliffs of the west coast of Lor Zatean. She allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. "Inform the Councillor we have arrived."
"I am aware of that do you believe I was sleeping?" a terse voice asked from behind her and she and the other bridge crew leapt to their feet and stood to attention as a short wizzened creature sat on a hovering chair glided onto the bridge, moving to study the display on the screen with a frown. "I assume you are monitoring communications?"
"Yes Councillor," the captain replied quickly, keeping her eyes focused on the wall opposite.
"Good. We will remain at this location until our agents make contact. They can not be long now." He turned and drifted towards the lift, then turned. "You have performed adequatley. Do not let your performance drop." He turned again and the lift doors slid shut behind him. The crew breathed a collective sigh of relief and there were a few smiles caused by what passed for a compliment.
The captain retook her seat. "Resume your duties."

The councillor entered his quarters, gliding slowly through the door. A slight smile of satisfaction touched his wrinkled lips. After all these years Subject Six would be back in his grasp. The possibilities were endless and lost time would be made up.
There was a beep behind him and he turned. "Yes?"
"Councillor we are retreiving a scrambled transmission from the island."
"You will put it through to my quarters."
"Yes Councillor."

He waited a few seconds then a hologramatic image appeared, showing the red puffy features of Gavroche, one of the agents he'd assigned to Subject Six. "Agent Thirty-Nine. What do you have to report?"
"Councillor," Gavroche said in a broken voice, "I need retreiving immediatley. It's all gone to hell!"
The councillor frowned. "Agent Thirty-Nine this display is unseemly. You will explain yourself."
Gavroche instinctiivly snapped to attention but still blurted his words out. "The target has gone insane, she's developed unatural abilities. Her plans have all failed, and she's going to blow up the island. She killed Dastari!"
The councillor considered this. It was not unexpected. "You appear to have abandoned your assignment Agent Thirty-Nine. Where are Agents Twelve and Nineteen?"
"They're still with her. I think they intend to persuade her to join you. But the building they are in is under attack by Dlarit, and I heard lightsabers. They're Jedi."
"You will return to your assignment Agent Thirty-Nine. Should your colleagues fail it is up to you to complete the mission as best the circumstances present. You will not fail."
Gavroche took a deep breath. "I understand Councillor."
"I would hope so Agent Thirty-Nine." He pressed a button on his chair and the link terminated. He was mildly irritated and poured himself a drink.

Basement, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The fall through the stairs had caused more havoc that it was worth, the landing had caused Methyas' leg to buckle under his weight while he fought to maintain the defencive stance with the remainder of his Sadowan brothers and sisters. Amongst the chaos Methyas couldn't help but feel a connection between the hail of blaster bolts crashing upon them and the harsh winter storms of Tarthos. There was a tension in the air as it was thick with the sounds of metalic thuds from slugthrowers, the iconic pinging of blaster fire and the ringing from all of it colliding with a series of lightsabres. At the back of the chamber nearest the door to another room stood three people: a massive human male, a stacked trandoshan male and Deliverance herself.

"Popping detonators!"
"Toss them back!"

The group of Jedi started moving forward awkwardly amongst the hail of fire directed at them, the group of enemies were well trained and well armed and were here to make sure that their adversaries didn't leave this place alive; a task that they were more than confident they could fulfil.
As the Sadowans began to recoil a bit from the increased rate of fire, Methyas couldn't help but notice that people were beginning to take some of the bolts in their body; he was even surprised that Locke had gone prone with his broken ribs. With a quick decision Methyas leaned to the side and took a quick series of shots at the wall next to their right, punching holes in the wall to weaken it's integrity. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he reached out and gripped the wall by the holes he had created; pulling with all his might through the Force as bolts started to bound from the durasteel plating of the wall. The plating was thicker than he had expected, good for the Sadowans as it was thick enough for the slugs to penetrate but would take longer for blasters. With a sudden snap and resounding ring the metalic plating came loose from the wall and started it's path from the wall towards the group of Jedi before Methyas slammed it into the floor, a makeshift wall and cover to hide behind.

With a deep exhale the Knight closed his eyes again before he started crawling towards the barricade itself, listening to the two sides calling out orders and demanding flanking positions as the two sought to blast each other to oblivion itself if they could. Jade and Locke took advantage of the cover as quickly as they could, seeking refuge as they took the Miraluka's idea further, ripping two more large sheets of Durasteel from the wall to extend their makeshift barricade before shifting their positions behind their new plates, Rang taking a knee next to Methyas as they left, his voice faint behind his helmet, "You okay?"
With a slight nod the Aedile slipped some of his spare ammunition from his gear, "Take this, you're going to need it. I'm going to turn on my locator and call out positions from where I'm sitting."

Reaching down to his waist, a dull click as the rocker switch clicked into "on" followed by a small tweak of the radio dial gave him a wider range before the calm feminine voice started speaking, "Alert! S 45° W; Alert! S 38° W; Alert! S 32° W..."
Methyas started translating them almost immediately, his voice speaking almost methodically as he reached out in the Force to instill greater confidence in Rang, "Target bearing 45° right, bearing 38° right, bearing 32° right."

The Protector smiled beneath his helmet as he felt a surge of confidence, rising from cover with his NR3S leveled towards the first bearing, his eyes lighting up as he saw the target easily as his finger squeezed tightly around the trigger. With a solid kick the submachine gun burried itself into his shoulder as the man took the barrage, stumbling backwards as the slugs missed his vital organs. Rang continued his assault on the man amongst Methyas' ramblings, other members of the group taking advantage of the calls as they tried to stay out of the line of fire. A loud bang next to the Aedile and Raptor caused alarm as Methyas shook his head, still lost in thought as he called out the bearings, pausing long enough to voice his concern, "We can't stay behind these forever guys, maybe lay down some covering fire and move to close quarters?"

Basement, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Her attackers tore into the late Ven Dastari’s bioenhanced thugs. The armoured hitmen were a marvel to behold; powerful as Wookiees, harder than Gamorreans, swift as Gundarks. Their blasters moved with lightning precision, pouring fire down upon the Jedi strike team…who moved with mirror like agility, their lightsabers blazing in arcs and pinwheels, deflecting blaster fire right back, now laying down a screen of covering fire as some of the others moved to strike at Dastari’s goons. She was unsure whether to be more impressed by the raw, untamed display of strength, or the almost majestic, musical precision to their movements, as if she were watching a dance to the finish.

Her eyes briefly glanced over at the pit—where the mining droid continued to move the device ever deeper, where it would crack the isle of Lor Zatean in half. This play will go out with a bang, Deliverance thought. She laughed and a smile crossed her lips—when a hot pain shot through her ear as a stray bolt singed the left side of her head.

Her eyes darted toward her attackers…the mob that thought she the prey, and they the hunters. The skin on her ear was already starting to stitch itself back together, stemming the flow of blood, but right now she had no time to worry about that. Whatever Kelvert’s people did to me, they did it well. The bolt had come from one of the women; the Jedi’s copper streaked brown hair was flailing behind her, as she deflected attacks from behind the durasteel barrier they had warped into place before them, letting some of the others move into closer range.

Jedi. What were they even doing here? Was it not their Order’s duty to serve as the guardians of peace and justice? Filth. Deliverance’s nostrils flared at their foul odour; a vile stench mixed with the ionised ozone where they twirled their lightsabers. These…sorcerers would learn their place; they would die by her hand first, staring into her eyes when the prey became the hunter as she choked the life out of them with her bare hands. And then the people of Lor Zatean would drown in the sea which had been born of their own greed.

Justice would be had.

She stared into the copper-haired woman’s violet eyes, who caught her gaze, returning it. The Jedi smirked, adjusting her stance to deflect some of Kelvert and Carolide’s attacks directly at her—

When Deliverance shifted her weight left, her entire body contorting fluidly out of the attack’s path.

The Jedi snorted something impossible to make out over the tornado of battle, then redirected the volley, trailing Deliverance as she danced and turned, constantly keeping one step ahead of the Jedi’s attack, her lithe form moving behind Dastari’s goons to the side wall. She could see the Jedi’s brows narrow, frowning in confusion.

Yes…two can play at this game, Jedi.

Deliverance shot the copper-haired Jedi a smirk, then punched her fist into the nearby wall, grasping the support girder buried inside—and pulled. With a loud crunch, part of the wall snapped free, plaster and debris raining in front of her, absorbing the renewed blaster fire being deflected in her direction. Then she looked for the violet eyes again—there, in the middle—and hurled the massive durasteel girder through the cyclone of red and blue bolts, right into the fortifications the enemy had erected at the base of the stairwell…

As the girder slammed into the buckled barriers of durasteel, Deliverance unsheathed the jewel-encrusted gold sword of Etenia, the late Ekind mauled in the forest, from its holster on her belt, her face staring back at her in its mirror polished surface—and began deflecting the blaster fire now heading her way. You think you’re the only ones able to move fast enough? Hah!

The sounds, sights, and smells of battle fill the air. The semi circle grouping of dark Jedi face head first Deliverance and her goons. The Dark Jedi lead by Fremoc moved quickly, those that had lightsaber’s deflected blaster bolts back towards Deliverance and others. While those who did not carry the fine weapon fired blaster bolts at the enemy. Overall one word could sum up the scene, chaos.

Teu stood behind her husband and towards the right her baby blue lightsaber flashed quickly sending bolts back towards the shooter. Her face glistened with sweat; her eyes scanned the crowd before her. Debris littered the ground, dust filled the air, and this is where she felt at home the heat of battle called to her as much as being a mother did. A grin stretched across her face. A plan began to form in her head on how to stop Deliverance from completing her plans.

She moved to stand even with her husband. "We need to end this sooner rather or later. We are starting to tire...her not so much."

Fremoc nodded slightly, he had noticed the younger members were starting to tire, if they didn’t end this soon they were all going to be picked off slowly. "What do you have in mind Teu?"

Teu smiled. "Well you know what sounds like fun, making a small boom big enough to engulf her and her goons before they can get the big one off." She let out a soft breath. "What I'm saying is you cause a distraction here using these guys here."

Fremoc opened his mouth to interrupt but was quieted by a look from Teu.

"So I with a few people can move to end up behind her. We are spilt so that there are two groups of enemies to deal with some of her goons have to turn and engage us. That gives you time to knock out the crazy women and kill her goons." Teu frowned as she finished speaking, Then I make it so the bomb goes off before, hopefully, she wakes up and we have enough time to get out.

Fremoc sighed; he batted bolts back and nodded. What she said made sense, even if he didn’t want her to do it. "Who do you propose to take?"

Teu flashed him a quick smile for a moment, her lightsaber moved in a blur. 'Well I was thinking Locke. Leaving you here with the others. Two missing won’t be anything noticeable but more than that she will be seen. Once I get behind her I will send a signal."

Fremoc nodded. "Go. Be safe."

Teu nodded and moved backwards using the dust of battle to hide her escape, looking around she spotted the one she wanted. Locke was in the middle of the group his blaster firing quickly and expertly. She tapped him on the shoulder, motioning him to follow her she set off down the hall.

The sounds of blaster fire were behind them, Teu looked at her apprentice. "You have grown far in this mission but our work isn’t done yet. You like fire works?"

Locke looked at Teu and raised an eyebrow. "Yes"

"Well good me and you are doing just that." Teu quickly laid out the plan as she walked. The hallway they walked eventually led them to a T intersection. She looked down both before taking the one on the right. "This will set us up so we will come up behind Deliverance."

The pair moved quickly, with a purpose. The sounds of battle again becoming louder yet still distance. Turning the last corner Teu and Locke came up to the room where the bomb sat, her eyes lit up softly. She looked at Locke, "Ready?"

"Ready." Ahead the sounds, sights and smells of battle loomed between the pair and their friends were their goal for this mission removing Deliverance from this world.

Teu quickly sent a ping towards Fremoc through the Force signaling that they were in position. As she finished half of Deliverance’s goons turned to engage them. The second part of the battle begun.

Pooring sweat, Roxas ducked for cover, he reached for his canteen and noticed that it is empty. The battle continuing and seeming endless he reloads, noticing that he is down to his last magazine. He gets back into his firing position and sees more enemies enter the room from behind Deliverence.

Roxas shouted "Damn it, this is never ending!"

Just then he fired his last round, he pulled his armory saber and began deflecting blaster shots. The others noticing that Roxas was out of ammo, began to wonder how much they had left as well. Slicing enemies with his crimson blade as they get close. The Protector clicked on his comm link
"Locke would you kindly ask Teu to hurry up, because we are running out of ammo!." Locke repplied "Okay", He turned to Teu, "Roxas was wondering how long this is gonna take, because they are running out of ammo." Teu looked to her apprentace with an Evil look in her eyes, "Tell him not to talk to me or I'll kill him. >:) " Locke clicked on his comm link "She said the usual." Roxas replied "Okay".

So with that he went back to mindlessly blasting blaster bolts and slaughtering enemeis.

Basement, Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The fighting had grown more intense as Deliverance herself became more involved in the battle. Her sheer skill with a blade and her speed was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. The room was filled with at least nine agents as well as Deliverance and her two superhuman goons. The Sadowans were fairly spread out across the chamber now, groups of them hanging back to lay down covering fire while another group had splintered off to deal with their enemies toe-to-toe. As the sheer chaos engulfed the room Methyas shifted to a knelt position, keeping his weight on his good leg and grabbing hold of the now shattered barricade for balance. With a sly smile crossing his lips he lifted a hand and quickly darted it towards him, with the Force heeding his call one of the agent's let out a scream as his feet came out from underneath him, his body falling in a heap as one of the Jedi closed the distance to deliver the killing blow.

The distraction had been more than enough for Teu and Locke to escape for their plan, the focus of Deliverance's agents drawn to those with Lightsabers and those who were laying down the cross-fire. With a sense of alarm Methyas ducked, a blaster bolt ricocheting off the abused durasteel panel before him. A scream about low ammo from across the room caused the Knight to toss a glance over at Rang, he had given him the last of his ammunition to ensure covering fire and the Protector didn't seem to be slowing any pace as the submachine gun in his hands continued laying down a stream of pain.

With a quick bark, one of Deliverance's two Lieutenants started to call for his people to move with him towards where Teu and Locke had gone off to, Fremoc barking out in responce to get the remainder of the Sadowans focused on their tougher opponents. With a swift snap from his belt, Methyas grabbed his Westar from his waist and began helping with the cover fire as the fighting intensified. Friendly fire began to grow more difficult to avoid as the two sides grew closer together, it only took the assistance of the Force for those firing to avoid hitting their friends and others moved to flanking positions to try for a better angle at their targets. As the numbers started thining and injuries started mounting amongst both sides the fighting grew more fierce as Deliverance, Kelvert and Carolides refused to let these Jedi win this fight and silence their voices.

Carolides stormed towards the Kreeshan Aedile and her apprentice with an insanity in his eyes, his lust for combat driving him towards the two without a second thought. Slugs and blaster bolts ricocheted off the Trandoshan's armour as he directed his group towards the two Kresshan's. Kelvert and Deliverance stood within the center of their group, the remaining Sadowans closing to assault them on their own ground. Like the Trandoshan, Kelvert's armour saw to the reflection of those that wished to harm him as his own men had similar defences. Deliverance herself stood within the center of the group, her Sith blade howling as it carved through the air around her deflecting the Sadowan's attacks. Today, these Jedi would die and it would be by her hand and the hands of those at her aid.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

Dyrra picked her way through the villa, noting the telltale signs that a number of angry Sadowans had charged through, intent on destruction. As the distinctive sound of blaster fire meeting lightsaber blade met her ears, she sighed quietly and addressed the Novice following in her wake.

“We are so late.”

Cev Nabina glanced at her warily. He had barely arrived at the Skyhook before the Quaestor had thrown a blaster at him and hauled him on a shuttle to Lor Zatean with her, muttering furiously about 'cannon fodder'. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

He trotted after her as she stormed through the villa to the basement, her force senses leading her to her Clanmates in the basement. As her mind swept over the battlefield, trying to work out what she was walking into, she felt the familiar presence of her new Aedile, who, if she wasn't very much mistaken was more than a little under stress.

Basement, Keebada Villa

Teu looked surprised to see them, when Dyrra and Cev ducked into the room she and Locke occupied. Aedile and Quaestor exchanged a quick grin.

“We've not missed all the fun, have we?”
“Not at all. In fact, there's some, uh.. fun headed this way, just for you.”

Dyrra nodded, already relishing the prospect of a good fight. Glancing at the dark haired man at her side, she called to him over the whine of blaster bolts.

“Cev, we'll sort out the introductions later, so just stick close to me and shoot anyone who's shooting at us. No one else. I don't want you killing someone you shouldn't accidentally!”

Her saber lit as she and Teu began to deflect the first of the blaster bolts the Trandoshan and his cronies were sending their way. She felt her mood improve as soon as her first deflected bolt hit one of the weaker looking goons dead between the eyes.

This is where I should've been all along.

She felt her muscles begin to loosen as she shook off the fatigue that came with spending all her time on Marakith. Eyeing the Trandoshan, who looked very much like he wanted to collect their heads, she called to her Aedile.

“So, I assume you've got a plan? Now might be the time to share it, don't you think?”

“I always got a plan Dyrra.” Teu looked thoughtful for a moment her lightsaber dancing as she batted away blaster bolts quickly. “Oh you want me to share.. Well it goes like this. Knock out the big witch there in the center and her goons around her. Then we set off the bomb here behind us to blow up and well then we run.”

Teu looked at Dyrra her mouth flashing a smile real fast before turning her attention to the approaching goons. “Can’t have you too close, now can we here.”

The four dark Jedi worked quickly trying to deflect and shoot bolts at the goons coming near them, slowly they knocked down a few of the weaker goons either unconscious or dead. One of the higher ranking goons, Carolides, moved from the group towards her pulling out a sword. The grin on his face was wide as he stepped toward her.

Teu gulped slightly; tightening her grip on her saber she entered the opening stance of Soresu. “uhm hello…you know this isn’t in the plan.”
Carolides growled quietly. “Die Jedi.”

He lunged towards the Knight his bladed weapon held high.

Teu growled under her breath, her lightsaber moving to intercept the blade. Her blue eyes twinkled with excitement at the coming battle. Her blue blade moved perfectly intercepting the blade she pushed the bladed weapon back before striking her lightsaber at him towards his right arm, his sword arm.

The duo dance quickly moving around the room the sound of medal hitting energy echoed through the chamber. Teu fueled her muscles with the force after such a long day they were starting to tire; her opponent didn’t notice the slight slowing in her movements.

Carolides growled again at the knight, his left leg swinging out towards the Knights right knee, his eyes wide with as the kick made contact a sickening crunch could be heard through out the entire area by everyone.

Teu yelped out in pain and surprise, the leg buckled slightly beneath her but rage filled her for the moment her body felt fresh for a moment. Her blue lightsaber moved in a flurry as she sliced and diced at the Goon, her blade slicing into his stomach, he collapsed unconscious as three blaster bolts hit him in quick succession.

Teu collapsed her knee giving way. Her teeth gritted together she barked out at Locke “Cover me for the moment.”

Teu quickly entered into a Force trance allowing it to slightly heal the knee partially. Within moments her eyes opened. “I can’t do anything with it now.”

Teu brought her lightsaber up and began deflecting bolts back towards their owner. Her apprentice fired quickly and accurately but had to continuously move behind cover to avoid being shot. His eyes were focused on the end result.

Private Chambers
Labs Deep Below
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

"LEAVE. FOLLOW."

The words pounded into Macron's Marked head. He had gone to ground ever since the evil emanations had began. Too many signs of his old Master had been seen of late. Hints, allusions, swords, innuendoes... and the cold hard facts. The voice bored into his brain. "FOLLOW." Every iota of Macron's psyche and innate Sith arrogance rebelled against the suggestion. He clutched his hands against his throbbing head in agony. The Mark on his forehead was a railspike of gritty pain inserted into his forebrain. Passion...

NO. I WILL NOT!

A Sith always drew their strength from within. Total Mastery of the Self, making the will serve the Master. He hawked a large glob of phlegm and spat it with vigor onto the shining marble tiles of the hidden laboratory. "Through passion, i gain strength."

"You will never take me. I will kill you again and again.... and again and again." Pure hatred began to flow in the Sadowite's veins. His hatred of his former master and the horrible things done in his name were legendary. Xanos the Betrayer, or Darth Vexatus was anathema in the madman's mind. Macron's former Sith Master was a source of self-delivered mental pain.

"Through strength I gain power." The alchemist drew in his breath sharply. The ancient words were truth.

The alchemist's eyes bulged as he mentally recounted the horrors of the path he had chosen. "I HATE you! I HATE ME for what you did through ME! I hate ME for what you taught me..... but the Power...."


Macron bit completely though his tongue and tasted the coppery taste of blood. Power was what had motivated him since the beginning. His quest for power had sold him into slavery to the like of Vexatus. Only his earlier training with Nekura Manji had kept him from losing his own self.

"Through Power I gain Victory." The mantra of the Sith was absolute. His breath exhaled with a snarl.


The madman's fingers clutched at both highly modified lightsaber hilts. Never used at the same time, both were different specialized killing tools. One was hot, volatile, and cut deep and the other was quiet, nonmetallic, and hidden. Pefect tools. One saber to crush your enemies and the other to quietly and fatally stab them in the back. Both tools of the Sith. One hand striking with power, and the other grasping a dagger to be shoved in the back.

"I WILL NOT! NEVER NEVER NEVER! No one owns me. Not even mysellf. And certainly not YOU, Betrayer! I killed you once..... I killed a lot of people and Vong because of you. I killed many Falleen.. heh. Yes... to see their bodies rot and twist because of the Empire's research. And your body to rot and burn... hehhehehe. May you burn forever, Vexatus."

The horrible thought ate at his psyche. Macron's pulse twitched in his temples as he turned within to contain the suggestion. The will of a true Sith would not be denied, even in the face of terror and madness.

"Through Victory My chains will be broken.. the Force will set me free."

The quick hiss of a hypospray illuminated the ancient chemicals intruding into his veins as he stuck a tube to his neck. The Sith of old had remedies for such things. The Warlord had had plenty of time to seek out their panaceas. There was never a lasting solution. Always to seek the final answer.... even if you had to rip it from the bodies of your subjects.

"Gods." The Sith staggered into the kitchen. "Gods of Hell..."

"There are no Gods of Hell. You know that, Master." The red-skinned Zeltron Sith Warrior Aixa Qifaxa rolled her eyes as she poured a glass of juma juice. "However, Consul Manji-sama has requested your presence. You have been... gone for some time." The Sith woman smiled suggestively as she polished the carbon scoring from her lightsaber hilt. "You may wish to visit the refresher and have a shower."

"No, but there are gods of my particular Hell." The Alchemist touched his neck and looked at his sharp metallic teeth into a mirror hesitantly. "Um. I think I am functional for now." Both lightsaber power cells and the Sith Battle Armor checked out positive on stat scan, as did the Mandalorian Steel Armor Fist. The mad alchemist was ready and loaded for bear. As usual.

"Master, I would agree," said the svelte red Zeltron woman as they both strode toward the deck area. "Our point of contact is Kebeeda Villa. I have requisitioned the hottest swoop bikes. I know you like them from your Coruscant days." She injected herself with an orbalisk battle stimulant with a deep grunt. Her yellow eyes flashed red with vigor.

"Indeed. Move Out," spoke the Marshal Commander as he fitted himself into his signature Sith Battle armor. His left hand clenched, the servos in the Armor Fist whining with anticipation."Time for a surprise. It's been a long time. It might be a hard fight- I can hardly wait. The blood I long to spill will center me. Let us remain in stealth and catch our victims at their most despairing moment. When they feel all is lost- it will be."

The Bastion
Restricted Zone, somewhere in the Vigrian rainforest, Aeotheran

The Proconsul and the Rollmaster stood for a long time at the threshold of the hoary edifce, staring past the shut massive marble doors into nothingness.

A very long time.

Allowing Malisane to stew at his side in silence, Tsainetomo fought to suppress his urge to destroy, his thoughts roiling within his mind. He tamped down his frustrations and ire, compressing the emotions into a white-hot kernel of rage, to be used at a later time.

The Proconsul was stymied by the stronghold; no small feat, to be sure, stymieing the Keibatsu. He’d been rebuffed many times in his life, by his parents as they ushered him out of a serving area when he tried to steal a pre-meal morsel; by women in bars as he swam through a drink-fueled haze; by warriors who’d, on the rare occasion, had beaten him in combat.

But, never by a building.

The Bastion mocked him in its stony stillness, daring him to step forward again. He winced as the mere thought of doing so brought back memories of the psychic attack he barely survived earlier. Oh, yes, this was a problem that would be well worth the solving. This accursed building and its new tenant.

“So, that’s it, then.”

The Keibatsu whirled on his heel to stalk back towards the waiting shuttle, Malisane not far behind. One of the crew, taking the lull in the action as the perfect opportunity to relax and puff on some tabac, noted the Sons approaching, and quickly stomped out his tabac, prompting the others to do the same and snap to attention. They parted in the wake of Sai’s agitation, scurrying to their stations and bringing the shuttle online.

Malisane ordered the shuttle to ferry them back to Keebada Villa as Sai picked up a comm unit. The sounds of the battle flooded into his ear, doing nothing to assuage his irritation.

“Speak.” His voice was deceptively calm, emotionless. Dangerous.

Locke just so happened to be on the other end of the connection, and his voice came back tinny and harried. “Ah! P-Con! Uhmm..we are still engaging the VoJ forces…no word from November Sierra Actual…my Master is injured, and we’re meeting heavy resistance. The bomb continues to be lowered into the…”

Sai pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he bit down his immediate response. After all, it wasn’t Locke’s fault that the operation was taking so long. But, he could be useful in relaying his…sentiment.

Sai began to speak into the comm. “Locke, I want you to listen to me very carefully. It sounds as if there are more excuses than results being produced over there. Excuses are the tools of the incompetent used to build monuments of nothingness. Now, the Rollmaster and I will be there in little less than three hours…and will be leaving 15 minutes after we get there. That means that everyone over there has about, oh say, an hour and a half to either personally kill Deliverance or to make sure that her bomb does, and subsequently get to the LZ. Spread the word, Locke. I don’t care how it’s done. It just needs to be done if anyone expects to have a ride home. Fail and you all will have plenty of time to continue building those monuments I mentioned.” He deactivated the comm before he could hear Locke’s acknowledgement of the order.

Malisane looked at his beleaguered friend, a smile crinkling his ruined features. “Poetic. Brutal. You’re becoming more and more like a Sith everyday, Sai. I can’t help but tell you how proud I am at this moment.”

Sai returned the grin. “Careful, Mali: pride goeth before the fall. I’m Krath ‘till the end. I felt they could use a little…motivation.”

Keebada Villa
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

"Almost there, Mast---er,Consul...."----- the voice cut in and out of Manji's comlink as the roar of the speeder bikes engines and air interfered.

"See to it that Deliverance is stopped," replied the Krath as he closed the lid on his link. "I'll be along shortly."

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Teu winced. One leg was hurt but yet she continued to deflect blaster fire deftly. Locke fired his own weapon in return, his master’s searing blade surrounding him with a web of protective light as he dodged out and back from his cover.

“They’re closing,” said Locke as he plugged a meathead neatly in the eye with his pistol. “That’s one’s done though.”

“Nice shot,” replied Teu as she gritted her teeth against the pain in her leg. “I’m not very mobile like this. That’s a problem.” A two-handed swat knocked a blaster bolt back towards it’s owner, searing a hole in his shoulder.

The scream of approaching hotrod speeder bikes grew in volume. Twin figures leapt from the bikes right before impact, each executing a Force-assisted leap. The bikes themselves jetted by and smashed through the wall and two of the goons at full throttle, pulverizing them and the bikes into a gory mess. Smoke boiled from the mess, offering temporary sight cover to the crouching Dark Jedi.

A red-skinned Zeltron woman with a disruptor pistol in one hand ignited a crimson lightsaber clutched in her other fist reverse-style as she landed catlike on the floor. The Sith Warrior had a gleam of battle-lust in her pretty eyes that complimented the long scar splitting her otherwise beautiful visage. Unlike most Sith, she wore a form-fitting outfit of tight black leather and no cloak.

The other figure was an imposing six feet of red and black Sith armor clad menace. His right hand raised, igniting a hot orange lightsaber blade as blaster bolts began to be directed at him. One splattered harmlessly against the palm of his left hand as he smacked it away, the Mandalorian iron and steel virtually impervious to blaster bolts.

“Aisha, cover Teu,” ordered the eerie vocoder modulated voice emanating from the Warlord. “Get her back on her feet and give her whatever help she needs to complete her mission. Locke, you keep her covered as you have been. Good work,” chuckled the voice.

“Tell me where this Deliverance is,” giggled the Sith as he began to stride towards the blaster-wielding thugs. “And maybe I won’t kill you slowly.” One thug began to convulse as his head buckled in an invisible iron fist as Macron gestured towards him. Brains squirted cheese-like from his ears along with bits of metallic implants like busting a giant bloody pimple. His head crunched with a crackling sound much like breaking dry tree branches. “Heeheehee,” laughed the maniac as he deflected a blaster bolt crudely. “It’s been too long.”

Keebada Villa
Lor Zatean
Aeotheran

The assorted Dark Jedi of Naga Sadow, Dyrra, Fremoc, Methyas and Roxas amongst them, stared as Macron went about his work with maniacal glee. The alchemist was a sight to behold; raw brutality in the Force coupled with the bloodthirsty elegance of a trained killer, an elegance honed by his time studying with his Kyataran brethren. As Deliverance's goons swayed back slightly at the Sith's arrival before regrouping and rushing forwards again, breaking the brief moment of respite that the Dark Jedi had received, a figure moved into the room almost unnoticed.

Several crimson blaster bolts seared past Dyrra's head on either side, only to be batted away by a thrumming pair of argent sabers. Turning slightly, the purple-haired Quaestor let out a brief 'hmph' at the sight of her former Master, his blades clutched almost nonchalantly in his hands.

"What're you doin' here, One-Eye?"

Moving past her towards the front of the Sadowan group, ignoring the crowds of goons jumping in and out of cover to fire, Manji let out a dark chuckle. Planting his feet on the ground, he set both sabers into a whirling figure-of-eight pattern, smashing blaster bolts away in all directions as Roxas, Methyas and Fremoc darted out from cover behind him, intending to help Teu and Locke obtain their objective. The newly-arrived Warlord and the Pontifex intended to keep Deliverance's forces controlled, both intent on unleashing their full power, while the lower-ranked Sadowans went about the serious task of disarming Deliverance. Glancing back over his shoulder as he stepped forwards into the storm of blaster bolts, Manji shouted back over his shoulder to Dyrra.

"I made... a deal with Macron. An important deal. Then I figured I'd show up and help you guys finish this upstart before that deal comes into play."

Moving up alongside him, Dyrra stayed cautious, smashing away another incoming bolt with her lightsaber. Natural curiosity spoke through her lips.

"What kind of deal?"

Manji's smile slipped slightly, seeming somehow distant and far away.

"The kind of deal that changes everything."

Then he came to his senses, and with a roar of unbridled fury, pushed forwards into the nearest group of Deliverance's soldiers. Several men dropped to the ground screaming, with deep, burning slashes marking their flesh. Teeth bared, the One-Eyed Dragon roared his defiance as he smashed away another flurry of bolts.

The Bastion
Vigrian Rainforest, Aeotheran

FOLLOW.

Robert felt this corridor would never end. He didn’t know if he’d only been walking for a few minutes or if it had in fact been hours. It was impossible to tell; the dark side was so thick that the passage of time itself seemed to bend. This... bastion existed beyond time. Ancient.

The answers would come later. For now, he continued following the Consul, whose image the temple itself seemed to have taken on as its mouthpiece. As the Consul led him ever deeper into the planet’s heart. The black walls reflected no light, not even from the rows of torches that flicked on briefly as he approached, then went out again as soon as he passed. The dark side itself gestated in these walls; it was no doubt what had once given life to the structure’s consciousness, its drive to serve its masters.

That master, the Bastion told him, was House Primus Goluud.

In other words, him, Obelisk Battlemaster Robert Fett, who had gone by the alias Rob Rowaan when the Empire set its Inquisitors on him.

The air grew old; it took on that musty, stale airlessness, reminding Bob of the streets of Narg, so long, long ago. Not that he remembered going there. Nevertheless, the memory was as vivid and sensual as anything. Narg; the cruel, industrialised rock, strip-mined by the Empire. Much like Phare. Was Narg the reason the Clan had felt so like home?

Phare... the Dlarit Corporation... Astronicus.

I will avenge you my liege; that is the reason for my being.

These imposters who draped themselves in the cloth of Lord Sadow; they were not fit to lick the Overlord’s boots. There was one heir to Naga Sadow, and one only. These blasphemers who were like empty shadows of the Sadow bloodline... they were abominations. The usurpers would be brought to justice—and he, Robert Fett, would be that instrument, that voice of justice. That Sword of Sadow.

The back of his skull jabbed with pain, as if his brain was being pressed up against the inside plate. The pain shot through him, even though he knew full well that brains didn’t have pain sensors. It was all in his head—metaphorically as much as literally. He rubbed the blood trickling from his nose on his heavy woollen cuff. The migraines were another question this Bastion would hopefully have an answer to. That and the memory loss. He'd forgotten so much. So much.

He turned the corner... and came to an abrupt halt when he found the Consul’s image waiting before a dead end. Bob frowned. ‘Did we take a wrong turn?’

The Administrator glanced around over his shoulder. Then that booming voice spoke again, penetrating Bob’s mind. STEP FORWARD. The Consul held out a grey-green hand. Cautiously, Bob reached out and accepted the offered hand. The wall in front shifted, the stones depressing back into the surface, before they parted, moving out of sight to reveal an entrance to a pitch black void, dark as any singularity.

STEP. FORWARD.

Did he have any other choice? The Bastion had sealed everyone else out. So no. Not unless he wanted to be sealed underground for the rest of eternity—and he had no doubt the Bastion could imprison him if it so chose. There was an instinctive drive to defend itself at work here. Why it saw him as its master? He had no idea.

He stepped in front of the phantom Consul and moved into the lightless porthole...

...which immediately opened into a quiet study. Stacks of books adorned the desk, covered in cobwebs and dust. Loose leafs of paper remained open, looking untouched for years. He stepped deeper inside and picked up the nearest sheet from the desk—what was presumably the most recent document the owner had once used—and read the heading:

[center]CONTINGENCY ORDER 7

DATED: Day 283, 18 ABY
REF: 13042003

TITLE: Emergency Protocol Omega.

SIGNED: Consul Sith Battlelord Xanos Zorrixor[/center]

Bob’s heart skipped a beat. He read the title again.

Emergency Protocol Omega.

He didn’t even hear as the entrance sealed shut again; his eyes fell instead to his torn shirt, to his left arm, to his tattoo:

Ω III

Underneath Kar Alabrek
Tarthos
31 ABY

There is a creature in our tunnels… Don’t kill them. Find it, create an alliance with it. Keep it in the tunnels. I will tell you the next step to the path when that is done.

The woman’s voice echoed in High Priest Aeratas Aurian Alabrek’s mind. Her voice had been teaching him, telling him different things over the years. This time it was more demanding, more willing him to find the creature. The High Priest walked through the tunnels of the underground city. Mysterious holes had punctured through to the tunnels from the surface. It made Aeratas wonder what was happening on the surface.

Aeratas saw the creature, walking in the shadows towards him. “Who are you?” questioned the High Priest. He hates the Force users on the surface…

“I am Shaper Nal Yin.” The Yuuzhan Vong Shaper was skeptical of the person that was in front of him. He feared it was another Jeedai, someone that wanted the Shaper dead. He had seen what the Dark Jedi could do to his people, and wanted revenge for the slaughter the Jeedai had caused. “Who might you be?”

“High Priest Aeratas Aurian Alabrek, leader of the Lost Tribe of Tarthos. We live in these tunnels underground hidden from the Force users that are on the surface that have killed the majority of our kind.”

“Hiding from the Jeedai?” the Shaper’s voice gave the hint to Alabrek that the woman’s voice was right.

“Yes, I think you hate them as much as we do.”

“I want them dead, I want to burn.”

“I have a feeling we can work something out Nal.”

Good…

Underneath Kar Alabrek
Tarthos
32 ABY

“What happened with that subject?” questioned Aeratas.

“The chemicals made him too passive and too self aware. We want them violent, yet will listen to every word we say.”

“I agree. Keep working on it.”

The time to rise from the underground is getting closer…

Ruins of Ragnos Cathedral
Tarthos
32 ABY

"Sir, the patrol hasn't reported in. It has been almost a week," said a Sergeant to the Captain of the DSOG Force assigned to the Ragnos Cathedral.

"I wouldn't worry about it Sergeant, a patrol of 12 men, couldn't have gone too far. Is there anything else?" asked the Captain.

"Yes. Remember those bodies we piled up after the war?"

"Yes."

"Sir... They are all gone."

Teu grimaced as the bone was reset in her leg, under her breath swear words flowed like water, the sounds of battle drowned them out. Her eyes scanned the area looking for anything to create a make shift crutch. A piece of limber sat nearby. Extending her hand she called it to her.

"This will have to do." Teu winced as she stood, a crutch in one hand her lightsaber in the other. "Locke keep doing what your doing just tell me if anyone is coming at us....I’m going to tinker with a highly explosive device."

Locke nodded once as he shot at the group of goons ahead of him.

Teu reached into her belt quickly, pulling off a blaster pack. She tossed the small rectangle at Locke. "Here you might need that."

Locke caught the pack in the air, sticking it in his belt he nodded once. "Thanks"

Teu limped to behind the bomb where the control panel existed. She muttered softly under her breath as she moved. A small box sat in the middle of the fairly large explosive, Teu opened the small door inside a bunch of wires and components nestled with in reach.

"You know they really shouldn’t have left this alone. It’s just full of fun stuff and will make a fairly decent boom when I’m done." Teu mumbled softly, her hands quickly working to modify the bomb slightly. "Remove their detonator check, placed mine check...hmm added back up auto go off, check."

Teu blocked out the sounds of battle from around her. As she worked her eyes glanced around, focusing on a figure in the middle she smiled sweetly. Turning back to her work, she settled into the rhythm of bomb modification. A memory from her past brought a smile to her lips.

Across from Teu journeymen worked in tandem to dispel the group of highly skill goons coming at them. They swore and grunted, several barely moving out of the way of random blaster bolts, some unlucky grazed by a red bolt.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The rest of the clan is now on it's last legs of ammunition. Deliverence and her goons are tougher than the Sadowans thought. The lower ranked members of the Clan are exhausted, but they won't give up. The battle is becoming for difficult as time passes by, Deliverence is learning her full potential and seems to be growing stronger.

Roxas hiding behind cover to catch his breath looks around for anything he can use as adestraction so Femoc or Manji can get close and hopefuly do some damage to these beefed up enemies. Looking around he finds a T-21 light repeating blaster. A smirk crosses his face as he rises and unleashes a barrage of crimson bolts at Deliverence, she started blocking as many as she could, but there were just to many and she was overwhelmed.

Fremoc seeing this rushed in his green saber shimmering as it slices off Deliverence's left arm which slams to the floor with a loud thud, dropping the detonator, her goons supprised by the sight were distracted long enough for the rest of the clan to unleash their payload killing some of them. Deliverence swings her other arm at Fremoc, who seeing this attack comming he blocks with his saber, but the strength behind her swing sends him sliding back a few feet. She then continues with an onslaught of rapid attacks.

In order to help out his Quaestor, Roxas begins taking well placed shots at Deliverence while she is distracted, but the wounds heal at an alarming rate, angering her more and more. Roxas hints to Fremoc that he is going to make a distraction for his escape, Fremoc sees this and motions for Roxas to hurry, so Roxas throws a flash bang grenade and as it explodes temporary blinding Deliverence Fremoc grabs the detonator and makes his escape. The battle wages on, neither side gaining much ground.

- Tarthos
- Mucenic
- Night Hawks Compound

The sparse quartering was pitch black. Not even a computer screen was lit, nor a single candle flickered. The single occupant sat with his legs crossed in a full lotus position, while his mind reached out through the Force. Outside his door a presence approached, a droid, from the look of the way that energy moved through it’s body in such an organized and patterned manner. It was humanoid, walking on two legs, and it had a pair of arms, one of which it used to knock on the door.

“Enter,” Venator said quietly, his hands quietly moving to the knives to either side of him. He drew his senses back in as well, bringing everything into a much sharper level of clarity. He might not have been born with eyes, but he saw plenty well enough. More so than most, actually.

“Good evening Protector,” The re-fit protocol droid said in a genial tone. It was a ruse though, even the protocol droids here were prone to attacking and killing if ordered to do so. “You have been tasked to visit the armory and gather your equipment. You will be leaving on an unmarked transport to Aeotheran to support your brethren.”

“Very well.” Venator said as he drew himself to his feet. “When’s my departure time?”

“You have one hour to board the ship waiting you in the port. It is registered as the “Blue Nebula” and is a Corellian Action VI bulk transport.”

As Venator reached for his vest and coat, he mused over the choice of vessel. “Awfully big for one person.” He passed the droid, who continued to follow him.

“It carries a refit hyper drive, you will be in transit no more than 8 hours. Further you have been tasked to carry a package to Fremoc Pepoi. This vessel is sufficiently armed and armored should you encounter pirates on your way.”

Venator hit the button on the lift to take him to the armory. The trip went in silence, and once he disembarked the lift, the droid scurried off and turned the other direction, but not before handing the Protector a small earbud with the instructions not to insert it until landing on Aeotheran. Venator continued to the armory where the supply clerk waited.

“Standard Night Hawk gear.” She said as she slid the pack towards him.

“No thank you,” Venator said, as he picked through the things she handed him. He took the insulated body glove for his armor, the survival kit, and vibroblade, but not the armor itself. He also pushed back the blaster and slug thrower weapons as well. “These are unnecessary.”

“Your funeral,” She said, tossing her lekku to the side as she replaced the things he didn’t take. Her statement fell on deaf ears though, as he’d already walked away silently, on his way to the Blue Nebula.


- The Blue Nebula


The ship was huge, but that’s why they called it a bulk freighter. The Captain was equally huge. He was a oversized human, and garbed in what could only be period space pirate garb, making himself look much like a bandit. Venator was grateful that he was effectively colorblind, because the shape of the man was horrible enough, he couldn’t imagine what riot of color he would be.

“So you’re the rest of my cargo, eh?” The captain asked as he casually and most certainly disrespectfully rested his elbow on the head of the Sullustan standing next to him.

“Yes Captain,” Venator said. “I’ll remain in the cargo hold until we land. I’ll require time to prepare. Also, might I access your ship computer for some simple research?”

Go for it, for what I’m being paid, you can shoot my co-pilot.” The Captain said gregariously. He might have laughed, but his co-pilot, he didn’t seem to keen on it.

They embarked quickly, and after an equally quick pre-flight, they launched. It wasn’t long before they’d made the jump to hyperspace, and were well on their way.

In the hold, Venator stripped to his smallclothes and got himself fully dressed while the computer droned on in audio mode about the planet he’d be visiting. He first pulled on the thermal body glove, guaranteed to keep him at a comfortable and safe temperature in any climate. Next went back on his wide legged trousers, utility belt, and sleeveless vest. He buckled this on before tossing the sleeveless long coat over it all. He finished dressing himself by buckling his boots on and slipping his knives within easy reach. His usual pair went to the small of his back while his vibroblade he slung across his shoulders. As it was a larger weapon, he’d need more room to store it for quick access. He traveled light, something he hadn’t given up from his days living in the plains of Dantooine, also a habit he’d kept while bounty hunting for the gangster that had owned him for a while.

Once he’d finished arming and dressing himself, he sat and listened to the computer finish it’s diatribe about the planet Aeotheran. He reached out through the Force and tapped the button to turn off the hold terminal, and sat down to think quietly and plan how he’d get to his intended target with the data card intact. He knew the area was hostile, but there was precious little in the way of anything telling him how hostile. Still, easy wasn’t for him, nor had it been for some time.

As an almost afterthought he put the earbud into his ear and tapped it to activate the recording.

“Venator, upon landing, kill Captain Verspadian. Leave his navigator alive.” Said the tinny voice. It was enough.


- Aeotheran
- Large Wooded Clearing


Venator wiped the blood from his knife and turned to face the Sullustan standing on the cargo ramp. “Ship’s yours so far as I’m concerned. I’ll be getting transit back some other way.”

For the first time, he heard the small mouse-faced creature speak, though he didn’t understand the language. Still, the Sullustan got back aboard the ship quickly enough and shut the ramp without any hesitation. A few moments later and the engines were firing back up and Venator was watching the ship fly away.

He paused another glance at the body of Captain Verspadian, felt no remorse, and gathered his pack. He tossed this over his shoulders and took one final touch check oh his equipment. He’d kept the binoculars and ammunition, figuring one of his comrades might need them. The rest he’d organized to his suiting, and it was all in place.

He took one last look, this time through the Force, extending his senses as far as they’d reach, and saw the light of such bright energy in one direction. With a last shrug of his shoulders to re-set his pack, he took off running in that direction.



PRT Venator (Obelisk)/TRP/Marka Ragnos of Naga Sadow

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Fremoc ran. However before he left arms reach of Deliverance, he went flying. The air from his chest ripped from his chest, his head slammed against the wall. His gray eye rolled into the back of his head. He slides to the floor, unconscious.

As the smoke cleared, it was as if a curtain had risen over a magnificent play, the crazy Sith Alchemist was engaged in a brilliant battle with Deliverance. His crazy cackling heard throughout the chamber.

Everyone who stood watched for a moment as if caught in the trance of the fight. The cackling even louder now seemed to wake the combatants throughout the room, the fighting resumed. The Sadowian combatants seemed to move into a reserve pool of energy moved with renewed prowess.

Behind the bomb, Teu watched the entire proceeding curiously. Her eyes focused on her husband the entire time. She watched in horror as he hit the wall. She felt something move through her, forgetting her broken leg she ran towards the first group of Deliverance goons. Her lightsaber swinging quickly. Anger fueled her motions; a loud cry filled the room as she moved.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran



All around the room Journeymen Dark Jedi fought with vicious fury befitting of Sadow. They were outnumbered, but the Force was their ally. Slowly the bionic thugs were being fought to a standstill.

Methyas dropped low, kicking the legs out from under one top-heavy thug with a Force-assisted kick. He calmly deflected an incoming blaster bolt directly downward into the face of his fallen foe. The bolt blew his forehead open with a smoky *pop*, sending sizzling juices and bits of cranial matter to plop on the floor from the gaping wound.

Locke slipped in and out from behind his cover. Locke had exhausted his own blaster nailing opportune targets and had picked up a Merr-sonn model from one of the nearby corpses. His sniping fire was taking a serious toll on the thugs. Although they were tough, they did not have the ability to deflect blaster bolts; unlike the forces of Sadow. They also could not anticipate incoming blaster fire.

Manji, Dyrra, and Jade wove a murderous danse macabre through the eastern side of the chamber. Their combined swirling blades illuminated the area with a flash of ruddy light each time a part was severed from its former owner. Occasionally sparks flew from a cut as the lightsaber met a metallic implant when the blade sliced through.

Jade swept an arm from the huge thug facing her with a brutal chop from her argent blade using Shii-Cho against the horde of goons. A wave of her hand and a snarl sent the ownerless limb spinning though the air at the next thug she charged, slinging blood and gobs of fried flesh into his eyes. As he raised his hands in self-defense she drove her blade reversed in Makashi style neatly though his heart with a laugh that bared her pointy teeth now red with blood.

Teu ran with a groan of pain, pure concentration in the Dark Side giving her the ability to make her unwilling flesh work. Two goons went down, their chest and neck severed with flashes of light and a burning hiss as the Knight cleaved them with her blue-white saber.

Fremoc was out cold against the broken remains of the wall where the speeder bikes had crashed through earlier. Blood trickled thinly from his lips, and his eyes were open and glassy. Teu knelt down, cradling his head in her lap as she peered about for more enemies. “You are NOT allowed to die,” she yelled at the unconscious Obelisk. “Not yet.”

“He won’t die,” smiled Aisha Qifaxa as she knelt down beside them. “Help me give him some meds,” whispered the Sith Warrior. “Inject him with these. We’ll hold them off,” the Zeltron said as she rose with a gesture toward the approaching Kelvert. Dyrra had cut her way to the wounded Teu as soon as she saw Fremoc fall. Now the two of them faced one of the toughest of the thugs.

Macron nodded in respect. “Fremoc has guts….” ran his thoughts. “Got to respect that.”

The Templar had literally cut one of Deliverance’s arms off with a perfect slice as Macron held her cortosis laced blade off with the Armor Fist. The kick from her boot drove into Fremoc with vicious force, cracking bones and sending him flying. Unbelievably, the bio-enhanced woman simply picked up her arm and re-attached it.

“Incredible,” mumbled Macron as he studied the strange woman. “Only way to accomplish that is with some serious nano-technology,” thought the madman. “Bitch.” It was obvious that direct combat was not of much use as far as Macron was concerned, even with his skill with weapons. Instead the Dark Side must be her downfall.

His guard was held high as Deliverance paced in a circle with him like a pair of battling tigers. The force ripped through his body with aplomb. The mad alchemist was no stranger to battles that took one beyond one’s limits. Limits were made to be broken… or else you died. It was that simple. The Sith Warlord held nothing back in this battle.

“Right behind her,” rang the voice in Macron’s head. “Drive her to me and I’ll make that schutta pay,” said the Kyataran-clipped telepathic tones echoing in Macron’s head. The goons did not have telepathy either...

Veins in Macron’s neck bulged as he drew upon ancient Sith techniques of the Dark Side to make himself the perfect engine of destruction. A scream of anger erupted from Macron’s lips. The waves of sound were enhanced by the Dark Side. Deliverance was the obvious target of the Force Scream. The woman raised her hands to her ears, still holding the nasty cortosis-alloy blade as she wailed in agony at the sonic assault. Her superior senses were a liability in this situation.

The disorienting scream was followed up immediately by the Warlord with a Clan Naga Sadow trademark- a devastating blast of hard telekinetic force directly to the midsection. While it would have pulverized the bones of a lesser being it was not nearly enough to kill Deliverance. It did however drive her backwards into the wall behind her with great force, driving the air from her lungs with a groan as bones crunched.

Twin beams of silver light ignited right next to her as she turned her head. The light illuminated a face with one good eye peering at her from next to a black eye patch. That eye was full of hatred and yellow with the Dark Side flowing through Manji’s veins.

In front of her an orange blade ignited and the whine of servos indicated the presence of the mad alchemist.

This situation was not working out Deliverance had planned at all. Facing two of the meanest and most experienced Dark Jedi in Clan Naga Sadow as her forces crumbled around her was not in the script. A wave of her fingers tried to fire the bomb detonator.

Nothing happened.

While Macron could not take her alone- Ole One Eye and the Madman could together. The bitch had no chance against the Equites. “Now,” yelled Manji as he launched a furious double-bladed assault.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The fighting was intense, there was no doubt about that. There was a maelstrom of energy inside the villa, the Force rippled with it. Still, there was a job to do, and it had to be done. Venator had bypassed the predominance of the battle by using the natural environment and stealth, but there was still a trail of bodies he’d left as testament to his own handiwork. He was on the second level of the villa, above the main battle, and had a pretty good sense of what was going on just below him.

There were plenty of people he recognized below him, each of their life essences a unique signature in the force. Plenty of lightsabers were spinning, swinging, hacking and slicing. Blaster bolts filled the area, and there were people busy killing and people busy dying.

Upstairs, however, there was a much more patient piece of business going on.

Below him, the battle raged on. Venator waited, listening to the Force while he worked. The crude armory lightsaber rested in his hand, it’s only claim to customization is the blue crystals that colored the Obelisk blade. Deliverance stood below him while he cut into the floor, stopping the tip of the blade just nanometers from penetrating to the level below him, his very light step the only thing keeping him from falling.

Venator watched, waited. He saw the way the battle would play out, moments before these actions actually happened. All he had to do was find the moment when everything below him would line up just right. He disignited his lightsaber, and reached into the Force, this time letting his desire to make something move fuel his next action.

It happened soon enough. The blasters stopped shooting through where he was going to be, and Deliverance stood directly below him. Venator pushed then, a shove which put another ripple into the Force, and the floor gave out beneath him. He was falling then, and about to land directly on Deliverance’s head when again he reached for the Force, this time pushing a wave of nausea through his hands and into her as he came within reach.

He didn’t stick around long enough to view his handiwork. Instead, he was moving, springing off and into a roll on the floor. His knives were in his hands, and he began cutting his way up the reinforcements. As they turned to react to him, he switched from knife fighting to K’thri, the swaying dance like martial art of the Zabrak.

His feet went to work as he leapt and rolled, kicking some in the face, others in the knees, and more in the ribs and chest. These strikes alone weren’t sufficient to do any real harm for the most part, but they were put off guard, allowing his comrades to get their work done in a much more expedient manner.

As Venator cleared the majority of the battlefield, he spied Roxxas dropping an E-Clip out of his repeater.

“Ammo!” He yelled, and slung his backpack that direction. The Mandalorian armored heavy gunner nodded the way of the Protector, opened the pack and re-loaded his weapon, sending the rest of the ammo down the firing line.

From there it was objective number two. Fremoc lay there, guarded by Teu, who held a Soresu guard near him, obviously ready to take on all comers who might come too close. Behind him, the Equites took their turn against Deliverance, and the pitch of the battle changed again. The rise in morale was tangible.

“Got a delivery,” Venator said as he dashed to Teu, leaping over and dodging around the rubble and debris used as cover. He’d spent his early life learning how to run and move around in a hostile world, and while the blaster fire was certainly disconcerting, he’d deal with that on his own, later. Much later.

“What is it?” Teu asked as the Miralukan Protector came up to her.

“Beats me,” Venator said as he slid past her like a blastball player making a scoring dive. He reached into his belt and pulled out the fist sized capsule and opened it up. Fremoc’s wife spared a glance his way, and saw the auto-injector drop into Venator’s hand, along with a note written in flimsi.

“What’s it say?” Venator asked, showing Teu the note. One curse of his species is a general lack of what the rest of the galaxy called literacy. Venator could see shapes of objects, in remarkable crisp detail, but the written word was perpetually elusive.

Teu studied it for a short moment. “In case of emergency.” She said, and added the rest. “It’s signed Fremoc.”

“Looks like an emergency to me.” Venator said, and jammed the business end of the auto injector into Fremoc’s neck. It fired off like a shot from a slug thrower, and Venator tossed it to the side.

“I think your clan might need some help,” Teu said, gesturing with her lightsaber. “I’ve got this.”

“Yess’m,” Venator said, drew his crescent moon shaped knives, and jumped back into the fray.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Deliverance's blade moved swiftly, flashing through the parries and counter-strikes necessary to fend off the two Sadowan saberists. However, she was not quite swift enough, not quite precise enough, her senses slowed by the illness that Venator had inflicted upon her. Her feet moved backwards as Manji and Macron pressed their attack, twin silver blades and a single blazing orange blade smashing against her defences from every angle. The woman's expression was locked into a rictus of frenzied anger as, inside her head, she screamed in fury at the Sadowans.

No, no, NO! This is not happening!

With renewed vigour, she pushed Macron back, her cortosis-forged blade smashing the Alchemist's own saber away. One of Manji's sabers was smashed wide, his shorter blade still whipping towards Deliverance's neck. Somehow, the woman contorted her body into a bizarre crouch to evade the attack, her body bending in an unnatural fashion. As Manji's blade passed over her head, she lashed out with a boot that caught him in the kneecap, dropping that leg out from under him. For a moment, all three paused, as if catching their breath; the moment a caesura amidst the maelstrom of battle. Then Macron let out a screeching howl and pressed the attack again, his saber whirling and mixed in with violent displays of seething Dark Side energy.

An invisible blow smashed into Deliverance's side, knocking her off-balance. She was forced to parry the sweeping orange saber as it carved towards her neck, and then was smashed to the other side by another invisible blow, the full range of Macron's force-enhanced fury showering down upon her. Mere moments behind the Sith, Manji climbed to his feet with a deep snarl, whirling his own blades and surging back into the conflict. Like a precisely-orchestrated machine, the Sith and the Krath wove in and out of each other's strikes, keeping up an unrelenting wall of attacks that pushed Deliverance backwards and kept her entirely off-balance. They'd fought like this many times before; it had been a while, admittedly, but old habits die hard.

Another scream ripped from Deliverance's throat as a wide slash from the Pontifex ripped across her leg. Immediately, her force-enhanced nervous system began to heal the damage- but the attack had done more than just causing her a minor injury. Deliverance's guard was down, her mind (enhanced as it was) unable to focus on the two rapacious Dark Jedi and the healing of her wound at the same time.

BLAMM

A stray blaster bolt whirled out of the confused skirmish around them from the barrel of Locke's blaster, smashing into Deliverance's back and sending her staggering towards the two Dark Jedi, her face twisted in agony. Without a moment's pause, Manji and Macron struck like uncoiling vipers; two silver blades carved through Deliverance's neck with stark precision while a blade that blazed like fire ripped through the woman's midsection, bisecting her neatly. For a brief moment, Deliverance stood and twitched in confusion, her lips barely forming a single word.

"H-how...?"

Then she collapsed in a pile of twitching body parts, the nanotechnology in her body still struggling against the embrace of death.

There was a brief moment of stunned silence as goons and Sadowans alike paused, all eyes drawn to the sight.

Then all hell broke loose... again.

Ruins of Ragnos Cathedral
Tarthos
32 ABY

“What do you mean they are gone?” yelled Mactavish. His Sergeant stood in front of him almost afraid of his commanding officer’s reaction. Mactavish had been losing men over the last few months, and was almost ready to ask for help from the Dark Jedi in Mucenic.

“Those bodies are completely gone, vanished without a trace,” said the Sergeant.

“Thousands of bodies can not disappear overnight!”

“Well they did sir.” Mactavish was steaming, but was also starting to have an uneasy feeling in the bottom of his stomach.

Underneath Kar Alabrek
Tarthos
32 ABY

“Everything is going to plan my friend, the toxins have reanimated the dead bodies that we acquired from the surface,” said Nal Yin. His abilities as a Shaper were remarkable and had impressed Aeratas.

“How about the live subjects? Those troopers and other beings that were in the city?” questioned the High Priest. He wanted to get his assault on the Force users as soon as possible.

Wait… You will wait until I say attack…

The voice in the Aeratas’ head spoke to him. It almost knew exactly what he was thinking at all times.

“The live subjects are being obedient, just the way we need them. Your troops are their only commanders, and no one else.”

“Good, and now we wait…”

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Teu stared into the face of her husband, waiting for whatever was in the vial to take effect. Around her lay used needles each contained a different chemical to wake up the unconscious man next to her. Her leg had become a nearly constant dull pain.

Fremoc's eyes fluttered, his normal eye locked into the face of his wife. He pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes scanned the scene around him, used needles, dead people, rubble and other items laying half hazard around. "Ugh what happened?"

Teu held another needle in her hand ready to inject the contents into his neck. "Uhh you were kicked across the room."

Fremoc pointed a hand at the needle in his wife’s hand. "How many have you used?"

"Enough" Teu's lips pulled back into a smile.

Fremoc growled loudly, "If I'm stuck with one more needle, I swear to the gods I will kill them."

Teu looked over her shoulder, "You’re a little late."

The sounds of battle had started to die behind the couple as the Sadowians finished up the remaining goons. The cries of the dyeing filled the room, the smoke thick from blaster fire hung over those left standing.


Teu deactivated her lightsaber, replacing it onto her belt. She looked at Fremoc, a child like glee in her gaze. "You want to see some firework?"

"What did you do?"

"Well you'll see." Teu smiled, she made a move to stand up but her broken leg refused to hold her weight she collapsed back down to the ground. "Sithspit. I might need a hand."

As if on cue Locke approached the couple, holding out a hand he pulled helped Fremoc up, before turning to his master. He pulled her to a standing position and threw her arm over his shoulder taking the weight off her broken leg.

"Come one everyone. I have fireworks to set off." Teu laughed softly, pain ebbed into it.

The others around the room quickly followed the others out of the room, moving quickly.

Keebada Villa
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

Roxas looked around the room at the handiwork that the group had done, he let out a sigh of satisfaction, content with the bloodshed. His armor singed, scratched, and covered with enemies blood from the days fighting, he looked at the T-21 light repeating blaster that he had found, noticing that it was damaged beyond repair he throw it across the room. He turned to catch up with his comrades and noticed a DC-17m, his inner self jumping with joy, he ran over to the blaster rifle and picked it up, examining it extremely closely, he found that it wasn't damaged in any way and decided to take it. He looked ahead and noticed his clan members were far ahead of him, so he ran after them.

When he caught up, his allies looked at him like he was an idiot, he looked back and with a curious remark asked "What, did I do something wrong?" Teu looked at him and said, "Hurry up, scatter brain." Roxas sighed and ran to the front to take point, as they got to a side of the building closest to their ship Manji ignited one of his silver lightsabers and cut a hole through the wall causing a huge piece of durasteel to fall to the ground, exposing the outside. The Sadowans knowing that there was going to be trouble if they did not get going, so they began running as fast as they could toward their ship.

The Sadowans running past villas as the head toward the beach, started attracting enemy fire, the group began firing back, but not losing their pace kept running toward their ship. They were firing as enemy sentries appeared in front of them, each shot was accurated and precise, each shot cleanly killing their target. The group working in unison to eliminate their enemies and reach their destination at the same time.

Keebada Villa, Exterior
Isle of Lor Zatean, Aeotheran

The group moved as swiftly as they could towards the waiting transports, equites flanking with their sabers deflecting any bolts aimed at the group while the injured parties remained safely within the center of the defensive web. With Teu between her husband and apprentice and Methyas supported by Rang; the group retained it's aggresive stance with the Mad Alchemist, One-eyed Dragon, Dyrra and the Alchemist's apprentice fiercely repelled any and all bolts directed at them.

Quickly the ramp dropped for the larger transport before them, members of the Special Operations Group flanking the edges of the platform to lay down covering fire as the Dark Jedi quickly closed the last couple of meters between themselves and the transport. The sounds of military precision kicked in as the last set of boots lay down upon the durasteel deck, "Close the ramp, get us to a safe altitude."
The mechanical sounds of the heavy ramp starting up and the engines firing to life began to distract the younger Sadowans as the injured parties were helped into seats on the edges of the hold, a senior officer speaking quickly, "Orders Governor General."
A moment seemed to pass between Manji and Macron before Manji spoke up, "Change course heading for Marakith, get us to a high altitude on the double."

With a curt nod all that could be heard through the deck plates was the sound of return fire from the transport's mounted weapons coupled with bolts ricocheting of the external plating and the engines screaming to life. The Sadowans swiftly began to either strap themselves in or move to other regions of the transport to speak to the pilots or senior officers. What seemed like hours passed within the hold, everyone anxiously waiting to see when the inevitable switch would be thrown. The time came as Manji's voice rang throughout the hold with a curt barking order, "NOW!"
A devilish grin sneaking across her face, Teu quickly flipped open the safety and squeezed her thumb down upon the button of the detonator. Almost immediately the effects were apparent, the sheer sound of the explosive daunting at this range mere seconds before the transport rocked from the incredible shockwave. From their positions at the viewports, the various members of Naga Sadow were in a state of shock and awe from the sheer size of the firery ball of carnage that now consumed most of the isle of Lor Zatean. From his position near the end of the hold, Manji spoke quietly, "Have medical teams at the ready for injured parties and ensure that support teams from Dlarit are sent to Lor Zatean to contain the damage; we will have a formal responce to this incident within the next couple of hours."

Medical Facilities
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran Aerospace

"Couldn't wait to see me again could you?" The woman's voice spoke coyly but delibrately.
Methyas sighed for a second before she spoke again, "I trust you haven't ruined all the hard work I put into fixing you earlier."
As the commandos lifted the Aedile and dropped him rather ungracefully upon the gurney again before saluting the woman and leaving the facilities, Methyas spoke as they left, "I'm a little beaten but no worse than usual."
With a slight clicking, almost a tisk-tisk sound, the woman spoke again, as she poked at his body, "Looks like mild inflamation of the rib-cage, some of the bandages and stitching from last time have come loose and your left leg has multiple fractures and crushing from something large...."

The Knight let out a slow breath as he tried to focus on something beyond the pain before the woman's head moved over his own to look him in the "eyes". The signature she exhuded was impressive, beyond anything Methyas had seen before, her soft voice spoke up again, "Let me inject you with painkiller and we'll get to work."
Her voice faultered for a second as she finished, the needle in his neck causing a pinch before the sharp pains subsided, her free hand closing around his right hand subconsciously before Methyas spoke again, "I don't think I was the only one eager to see the other again. What's your name?"
The doctor simply bit her lip for a moment before she spoke with a giggle, feeling the Aedile's grip relax upon her hand, the sedative she had slipped him as well kicking in quickly, "Dr. Salus...Naomi Salus. Now you, Governor L'eonheart, are going to relax for a while and I'll fix you up."
Methyas could feel the sedative now, a cheap trick but it had worked, his grip tightened for a moment before he spoke finally, "Maybe we can talk without one of us on our back once this is done then..."
With that said, Methyas passed out, Naomi stood smiling to herself next to the gurney as she signaled for the commandos to help her move him again; a simple whisper escaping her as her eyes remained fixed on where the Miraluka's eyes should be, "I'd like that."

Private Medical Facilities
Marakith Skyhook
Aeotheran

Deliverance’s head grimaced, hissed, and spat inside the glass dome that encased it. Wires snaked in and out of her cranium, her bionic-infested head capable of living on it’s own. With the right support, of course.

Nevermind the sonic needlers and auto-scalpels that worked on it like a crab crawling across it's head. Green and red fluids pulsed in and out of the shunts going in and out of the lightsaber-charred neck stump. Manji's blades cut hot, and it was a challenge to pump nutrients and fluid into the detached head.

Unfortunatly for Deliverance, Macron was just the man to do it. And do it well.The severed head had been bagged by the fleeing alchemist. He chuckled as he sprayed vicious Tattooine-pepper into it’s eyelidless eyes. “Bitch,” chuckled Macron. You are going to suffer for as long as I can make you.”

Most of the Clan had escaped the shockwave and the domain of the former Deliverance was in a blasted shambles.
Manji’s face appeared on the viewscreen. “Our bargain begins now. Lord Ashen agrees. You will serve in order to pay for your transgressions cousin.” The single eye contorted in a bit of rare emotion. “So it is ordered by your Lord.”

Macron nodded head down as the folds of the comforting Sith robe enclosed him. Things were changing. Always changing. Such was the way of the Force. The key was to seek within in order to place oneself at the perfect shatterpoint. Or at the very least to not be destroyed. Those that protect and fight beside one were to be cultivated.

“Yes, my Master,” replied the Sith alchemist. “I will accept the mantle of Consul as Darth Ashen orders,” the Warlord stated calmly. The transmission ended. Macron turned to Tsainetomo with a frown on his scarred face. “How long did you know about this?” he asked. “Manji-sama and I had a deal.”

Unknown Location


Several hours had passed since the Templar vanished from the Keebada Villa. Kano hated leaving his Clan behind but this was urgent. The Mandalorian had sworn that the day his family’s murderers resurfaced he would be there to slaughter every last one of them. Now that time was hear and nothing could slow him down from reaching the destination he had his eyes set for.

It wasn’t very often that a Mandalorian was seen waiting casually on a passenger ship but that is just what was happening. Kano watched through the T-shaped visor as people looked and stared at him, some in wonder and others in fear. For some fun the former bounty hunter activated his helmet to begin scanning the others passengers faces for active bounties. Almost instantly his HUD filled with the names of what looked to be half the people in the ship. He knew if he were to cash in on these goons he would bank plenty to stash for future needs but there was a bigger mission at stake, these guys would have to wait.

The ship rumbled a bit in an all too familiar way and Kano knew something was up. Everyone moved towards the side view ports to see what was happening and as they did an explosion sounded off somewhere else in this ship. It was a raiding party. Kano gripped his Westar-34s and waited for either bounty hunters or pirates to come into the passenger room. If they saw him he would be an instant target.

Within minutes the doors burst open and a bright flash filled the room. Without command Kano’s visor dimmed with the light to stop the temporary blindness it was meant for. No one entered the room. All the other passengers were screaming and holding their faces but Kano only waited. Only seconds passed but it seemed like forever before a figure stepped into the room. The man was clad in Mandalorian armor and looked directly at the Templar. The two men’s visors were locked into position with each other until the new Mandalorian tossed a small box in Kano’s direction.

Kano rolled back to avoid the blast from whatever it was the man had thrown but it didn’t work. A high-pitched screech tore through Kano’s speakers and the helmets inner workings began to flicker. Instantly the HUD went dead and Kano was left staring through the tented visor. Somewhere to his side Kano thought he heard a clanking noise so he turned his head just in time for the Templar to see the device that would cause his next several hours to be clouded in blindness.

Marakith
Aeotheran Orbit
Private Medical Facility

The guard looked up from outside the door as the robed figure approached. “Identify yourself.”
The figure drew aside her hood slightly. “I am acting under orders from the Consul.”
The guard nodded recognising her. “Pass friend.”
She slipped past him, heading inside, She moved quickly through the room, taking a small device from her robe and clicking it on, waiting until the powerful signal over rode the rooms security systems, then found what she was looking for. With a shudder of distaste she quickly pulled out the wires, then slipped the head into a convenient container before slipping it under her robes.
The guard turned as she left the room. “Did you find what you were looking for maam?”
She nodded. Suddenly her hand snapped out and he gasped as the heart stun struck him, and she caught him with surprising strength for her slight frame before dragging him inside the room. A few seconds later she left his corpse inside and closed the door behind him. Confidently she made her way to the shuttle bay.

Bar Tropical
Yamfianta
Lor Zatean

Like most theme bars that were popular and vibrant at night Bar Tropical looked dark, dirty and stale in daytime, the sun from outside barely making an impression on the interior. Near the back Gavroche sat picking at his breakfast, glancing occasionally at his watch. He looked over as an attractive young woman entered the bar, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. She was wearing a light coloured summerdress and had a rucksack over one soulder. She went to the bar, ordered a pure fruitjuice then to Gavroche’s surprise sat at his table. “Hope you don’t mind hate eating alone.” She picked up the menu and studied it.
He shrugged. “Feel free.” He said it out of politeness but quietly he felt a surge of panic. She would spoil his meeting.
“Hell of a couple of days,” she continued, “first that train crash then the power station going up. Terrible.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“You’d have thought they’d have had better safety. Watched a program on the discovery channel a while ago about it.”
“Really?” he asked in disinterest, looking towards the door wondering how to discreetly escape before his contact arrived.
She smiled. “Yes. I suppose in our own way we’re all seekers of knowledge.”
Gavroche’s gaze snapped around at the coded phrase to regard her. “Agent Seven,” he whispered.
She nodded. “Agent Thirty Nine.” She stretched theatrically then got to her feet. “Nice talking to you but I think I’ll grab a sandwich on the front. Have a nice day.” She turned and left.
Gavroche waited a few minutes glanced under the table and picked up her accidentally discarded rucksack, glancing around him then quietly leaving.

The Enlightenment.
Submerged off Lor Zatean’s coast.

“So Subject Six returns to us after all these years,” the councillor observed staring at Deliverance’s head, “significantly less of her than I had hoped for but it will be enough to proceed. You have performed adequately Agent Thirty Nine.”
Gavroche nodded, keeping his gaze averted from the head and staring at the wall. “Thank you Councillor.”
The Councillor glanced at Gavroche. “There was something else Agent Thirty Nine?”
The little man nodded. “Agent Seven sent some footage with the parcel Councillor, it is the creature that attacked us in the jungle.”
“Let us see it then Agent Thirty Nine.”
Gavroche nodded then placed a small disk into the slot below the viewscreen on the wall. The councillor viewed it curiously, then raised an eyebrow. “Project Firak,” he said quietly studying the image. “It’s presence here is most unexpected.”
“Councillor?”
The councillor kept his eyes on the screen. “You may leave Agent Thirty Nine. Report this to no one.”
Gavroche bowed in relief. “Yes Councillor.”
The Councillor pressed a button on his floating chair. “Captain engage the cloak and prepare for departure.” A few minutes later the invisible ship left Aeotheran orbit and entered hyperspace.

Ruins of Kalekka Tower
Antei

The fierce ion storm threw glimpses of light into the ruins of what once was a gleaming fortress but was now just a ruins of a past long forgotten. The owner had chosen the location as the Du'San Boundary shared with him the ironic duality of light and dark. The massive structure overlooked the Jadan Pass which was the only passageway between the Sunside and Shadow Lands. But like many seats of power during the Incursion years it had paid the price for the defeat at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong. As the Tower had gone through a transition, so had the owner.

The seclusion and stain of pain and suffering of the place suited the guest who had taken up residence in the ruins. It was not his first time visiting, but the circumstances of this stay were far more than he would have ever imagined possible.

Being one of the first followers of the Overlord and considering him his first true Master, it was hard for the Sith to accept the following of his Master's enemy. He had accepted the "Mark" when he believed it was necessary for the survival of his clanmates. And once again he was going against his true judgment in the name of the Disciples of Sadow. He had tried to convince the Overlord of the impending destruction of the Betrayer. But it had fallen on deaf ears and the man once known as Robert Sadow turned to the that which he dreaded. He would learn the ways of the Dragon and if he was consumed as others had been at least the Clan he honored would not be.

Underneath Kar Alabrek
Tarthos

Aeratas was in a deep sleep when the voice talked to him.

Begin the attack on the Force users…

Without a word, Aeratas was out of his makeshift bed, and wandering to the Shaper and his two commanders. The trio were in the Nal Yin’s makeshift lab, but turned immediately when they say their High Priest. Warlord Akrellum Perius and Cleric Othalo Keram both smiled as they looked at Aeratas, the two where the best warriors in the Lost Tribe, and where the best commanders Aeratas could hope for. Akrellum would be leading his mixed troops of Ekind and Nal Yin’s “Vongspawn” to Mucenic, while Othalo would lead his to Markosian City. The rest of the Ekind and remaining Vongspawn will go through Kar Alabrek killing everything in sight.

“Begin the attack.”

Quaestor’s Office
Mucenic
Tarthos

“Our numbers have dwindled…” murmured Fremoc. He was looking at the current roster on his datapad, but there were new names of people that he had heard from his old master Robert Sadow. Bob had gone missing for sometime after Mucenic was assaulted, and hadn’t heard from him since. He looked up at the figure entering his office. In the weeks that have passed after dealing with Deliverance and the Voice of Justice, Methyas, who had sustained the worst of the injuries, had healed. Fremoc’s disease that was found, had been cured by the mysterious injection Venator had plunged into his neck. The Templar reminded himself that he owed Venator a drink at Fred’s Lair one night. “Markosian is left for the refugees and Dlarit to take care of?”

“Yes, master. The new Governor has been “put” into power. He knows that what you and I say goes. Or else he will be… “removed” from power,” said Methyas with a touch of a smile.

“Good my apprentice.” Fremoc got up from his chair, leaving the documents and other paperwork behind. The Vornskr that Fremoc had found on Aeotheran, got up as well and began to follow Fremoc and Methyas. Bandit, as Fremoc had begun to call him, was the perfect guard dog and ever obedient towards Fremoc. The Quaestor and Aedile emerged from the Catacombs, and walked out of the Temple of Ragnos, watching familiar faces go to train or do work around the monastery. “So… About you coming back to Mucenic…”

Tarthos Orbit

“You are an unauthorized vessel. Please transfer your access validation or state your business in this sector.”

The call went out from Markosian City’s main hanger control center and broadcast itself over the cockpit speakers on the out of control civilian passenger vessel. A motionless body sat in the pilot’s seat with deft ears on the events unfolding around him. The man’s helmet let out quiet beep and clicked to life. The helmet linked up with the ships control panels and sent a message to the hanger control center.

“This is a recorded message from Templar Kano Verda. If this message is playing I will be crash-landing a vessel somewhere close to Mucenic. I am alive at this time. If I wasn’t then the message would not be playing. The vessel is clear or this message would not be playing. Please notify Quaestor Peopi of my situation.”

Communications were cut by the helmet and a flow of data was sent directly to the ships navigation systems. The ship gained some speed as it crossed through the planet’s atmosphere.
The woods around Mucenic were silent except the sound of wildlife going about their daily routines. That silence was shattered as the passenger vessel came smashing into the ground. Trees were ripped from the ground and tossed to the side. Animals ran in terror only to be crushed under the weight of the downed vessel. The ship slid along the ground causing more chaos and destruction before being forced to stop by the massive boulder.

Fiery pieces of debris laid about the area and once again a silence filled the area. Within the ship the Mandalorian’s helmet activated the personal locator device. Without that locator it could take hours for anyone to find and hopefully keep him alive.

Mucenic

“What the frak was that?” asked Methyas, almost cutting Fremoc off while he discussed matters with him, the sonic booms echoing through the monastery. Just as soon as Methyas had said that, the earth shook for a moment before stopping.

“Take Roxas and Araxis and go investigate. The presence feels like someone we know but yet he’s different.”

“Who is it?”

“Kano… He’s returned.” Without a word Methyas left the Templar’s side and retrieved the two journeymen before heading off to the crash site.

Kar Alabrek

Mactavish was surrounded. His troops were fighting for their lives, yet the vast number of Ekind and Vongspawn had overran their positions, slowly killing everyone. The Captain moved deeper into the undergrounds of the old Cathedral they had tried to rebuild over the last 2 years. He finally settled himself behind the barriers and other equipment he had set up years prior, he was determined to make his last stand at the spot where he was ordered to defend it with his life. But first, he needed to make a call.

“This is Captain Mactavish, the Cathedral has fallen. The Library is at risk.”

Within moments, he overheard another call from Markosian City asking for military assistance, “We are under attack by Ekind and Vongspawn! Their numbers are in the thousands!”

Crash Site

The trio of Dark Jedi approached the site with caution, they didn’t know what to expect from the crash site, or if anyone was with their fellow Dark Jedi. Methyas went to quick work cutting open a hole in the side of the transport, giving the team access to the cockpit. Araxis was first into the cockpit and saw the Mandalorian, leaning forward with his head on the console. Roxas pulled got into the cockpit as well, and the two journeymen began to pull the unconscious man out. It didn’t take them long, and began to walk back to the Temple of Ragnos with Methyas following them.

Mucenic

“This is Captain Mactavish, the Cathedral has fallen. The Library is at risk.” Fremoc remembered that Mactavish was with DSOG and stationed at the Cathedral. But what scared him was the fact that within minutes he received another call from Markosian City, “We are under attack by Ekind and Vongspawn! Their numbers are in the thousands!”

Fremoc had moved back into the Temple and into the Catacombs, where the war room Bob and him had created. With one motion all the dust flew from the holoemitter, before depressing the button to activate it. He made a call to Sepros, “Sai, Macron. I need you help ASAP. Kar Alabrek has fallen and Markosian City is under attack. By my guess within the next few hours, Mucenic will be under siege by Ekind and Vongspawn.”

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” replied Sai and quickly ended the call. There was one more call he needed to make.

“Dyrra,” Fremoc’s great friend appeared in the middle of the emitter as Sai had done before. “I just informed Sai and Macron, that Tarthos is undersiege by Ekind and Vongspawn. Get everyone you can to Tarthos on the double, this is gonna need the entire clan to stop this.”

“Teu and I will be there as soon as we can my old friend,” said Dyrra and she too ended the transmission. There was a moment to himself, where he thought all would be right in the world once more with all his friends at his side again. But he quickly pushed that emotion aside, and pulled his comlink up to his mouth, opening a communication to the entire monastery.

“Attention people of Mucenic. Markosian City and Kar Alabrek are currently under siege and could possibly fall within the day. We are thinking that there might be an attack group coming to Mucenic, so if everyone could calmly enter the Temple of Ragnos, we will strategize from there. Thank you.” The Templar heard the footsteps of everyone moving into the Temple, taking up the vast space. Fremoc moved out of the war room, and into his office once more, gathering his knives, his pistols, the lightsabers, and everything else that he could before heading back to the entrance to the Temple.

The monks and other non-Force users had gathered in the main hall while the Dark Jedi stood waiting for their Quaestor. Methyas moved up from behind the Quaestor as Fremoc stood. The unconscious form of Kano was between Roxas and Araxis. The Templar seeing his son, Thomas with Darra, nudged his pet Bandit to go be with them. The obedient Vornskr went to the two Pepoi children and laid down in front of them watching its master.

“Well, everyone. This is something that we are gonna have fun with. I will say this though. It has been an honor and a privilege by serving as your Quaestor. This will be a tough one and people will die.” Fremoc stepped further out onto the grounds of Mucenic. “Those of you that want to fight for this monastery, this place that I call my home, than stand beside me as we wait for the onslaught. Those of you that don’t, go into the Temple.” Only a few walked into the Temple of Ragnos. “Shut the entrance doors.” The big doors providing entrance to the sacred Temple shut, and locked sealing the occupants inside. Ekeia walked up to Fremoc, standing to the left of him, waiting just like everyone else was.

And now we wait…

Mucenic
Tarthos


As the Templar slept between his former team members his mind was traveling at light speed on the recent events. Visions of death and chaos filled every inch of the known galaxy and in his current dream state Kano was facing it all. Death and chaos was nothing new to the Mandalorian but this was somehow different. This wasn’t bloodshed caused by war; it wasn’t even caused by money. Something about this screamed one word at the Templar, wrong. This was all wrong. This was caused by someone with no control, someone who wanted nothing more than to hurt someone else.

Kano’s body jerked upright and the Templar let out a scream. Both Araxis and Roxas were startled by the sudden life that had sprung into their former Sergeant. Kano shoved the two men away from him and sprang to his feet. The silver hilt on the Mandalorian’s belt flew into his hand and every muscle in his body tensed up.

“Kano!” The voice boomed over the group that was now looking at the three men. “Calm down Kano. You are with friends again. You made it home.”

Fremoc broke through the group to be face to face with his former apprentice. When Kano saw his friend everything slowed down. His heart skipped a beat because he had made it. He was alive after thinking he would never again see any of the others in his Clan.

“I am home.”

Kano took his helmet off and dropped it to the ground. The Templar’s lightsaber sprang to life and in a quick and precise movement sliced the helmet from top to bottom down the ear line. Kano picked up the helmet and stabbed two eye hole into what was the back of his Mandalorian helmet. After tying a few straps to the cut up helmet Kano hung the new durasteel mask over his face. The air could be felt on the back of his neck and the feeling was strange but something said this was the way to go at the moment.

Kano looked through the mask’s lightsaber melted eyeholes directly at his Quaestor.

“What did I miss?”

- Mucenic
- Tarthos

“Well, everyone. This is something that we are gonna have fun with. I will say this though. It has been an honor and a privilege by serving as your Quaestor. This will be a tough one and people will die.” Fremoc stepped further out onto the grounds of Mucenic. “Those of you that want to fight for this monastery, this place that I call my home, than stand beside me as we wait for the onslaught. Those of you that don’t, go into the Temple.”

It was slightly hard to feel motivated by those words. Mucenic wasn’t what Venator called home, it was more of a crash space for him. His home was outdoors, away from the temple, away from the bustle, and most importantly, away from all of the Force users. With so many, it could be blinding at times, and having to scale his vision back so hard was annoying, especially when random attacks happened like most people changed their underwear.

Still, he wasn’t one to shy away from a fight, and while this might not be his home per se, it was most certainly his territory. There was just one small nagging little problem.

“Quaestor Pepoi,” Venator said, approaching the man he’d dosed not a few weeks before. “Ekind I can handle, but actual ‘Vong and their spawn, there’s a problem.”

“You scared Night Hawk?” Fremoc said, leveling a less than pleased eye at the hunter.

“No.” Venator said plainly. “I can’t see them.” To prove the point, he removed the spherical eyeballs which rested in his naturally empty sockets. “The ‘Vong are Force dead. They don’t exist within the Force, which means I can’t see them.”

“Damn,” Fremoc said, as he watched Venator put the ocular implants back in his hollow sockets. “Alright, get into the area around the monastery, find yourself a hide, and keep put. Take one of the clandestine comm units from the armory and get it set up with whatever surveillance gear you can manage to get your hands on. Have the quartermaster set all the frequencies for you, and while you’re at it, hide some caches of gear.”

Venator nodded at the list of requests. He could have it done in no time, especially with the aid of one of the swoop bikes kept on hand.


- Approximately 1.5 klicks outside of the monastery
- About an hour later

The middle of the night had come while the Miralukan protector worked. He had just closed and set the moisture seal on the last ammo canister and was busy covering it with brush. Occasionally he’d stretch his senses out wide, and could feel the people in Markosian City dying. He was infuriated, not for the assault, just the encroachment on his territory.

Once he finished stashing the last canister, he flicked a signal beacon on and off twice. Back at Mucenic, somebody logged the beacon flash and transferred the information to the data pads of the defenders, to correspond with all of the holocam equipment Venator had set up along with.

With that finished, Venator hopped onto the swoop bike, pulled his senses in tight enough to see where he was going clearly, and started the engine. He’d spotted a beautiful hide not far away, and wanted to get there before things got too hairy.

On the way, he relaxed a moment, letting the wind blow through his hair. He’d refrained from tying it any further than the first nine row braids he wore, mostly for this reason alone. Besides, he’d need something to keep his hands busy until trouble got to him.

After a few turns and some wide space to open the swoop’s engine wide, Venator found himself near the base of the waterfall which flowed past the monastery on the other side of the valley. He disconnected the repulsor-cart he’d carried all of the equipment with, and stashed it and the swoop under some brush. That being finished he climbed around the back of the waterfall and slipped silently into the cave behind it.

It was clear that it had been used, well used in fact, for a myriad of things, from meditation to combat practice, romance and violence. The area was kept clean, but the unmistakable sign of lightsaber scoring marred the walls, and there was a burnt area not far to signify a common place for a fire.

Venator dropped all of his gear and most of his clothes before he sat down in lotus on the floor and went to work on himself. He first took the 9 row braids of his hair, and made those three long braids, one off the top of his head and one from each side. These he turned into one long braid which went about a quarter of the way down his back. Unplaited, his hair would nearly reach his knees, but each braid brought it further up his back. He ate quietly as he worked at this.

With that complete, he brought out his camouflage kit. As his face and neck were the only things uncovered by the body glove he wore under his clothes on a mission, he had little work to do when applying the black greasepaint, but he spent enough time on it to make sure it was done right.

That being complete, he re-dressed, and put his weapons within easy grasp on his body. The razors sat at the small of his back and his trench knives rested on either hip while the vibroblade was strapped across one shoulder. He kept his armory lightsaber in his hand, feeling the weight, the untapped power and sheer destructive force it contained.

It was a long moment before he tapped the comm unit that sat against his mastoid bone. “Venator checking in. I’m in my hide, waiting. Everything’s as it should be, all gear’s in place.”

“Roger,” came the voice on the other end, garbled and buzzy through the encryption. “Await further instructions.”

Temple Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

Outnumbered and undermanned, Methyas couldn't entirely feel the confidence that he displayed for those present around him. He watched as Venator left to prepare himself and wished the young Miraluka the best in the field; he listened as Kano returned to life within the group as his hand rested on his sabre's hilt for the worst. Listening to the conversations amongst the members of House for a couple of moments, Methyas let out a sigh for a moment before approaching Fremoc and whispering to his impromptu master, "I need a moment with Naomi, you know how to find me."
A sly smile crossed the Quaestor's face as he responded, "Well, we don't have time for that, but take the time you need."

Methyas left the group quietly, and approached one of the smaller buildings nestled in the green flowing hills within the walls of the ancient sanctuary. Opening the door as quietly as he could manage before shuffling into the room. His sight revealing Naomi's slender body still wrapped cozily in bed, the Force coiling about her while her own bluish signature exhuded from her steadily in time with her breathing. A warm smile crossed his face as he walked towards the edge of the bed, the large burst of light out of the corner of his sight signifying the group of Force users within the grounds. Taking a deep breath for a moment, he leaned in and kissed the sleeping woman on her forehead; a sensual purr escaping her as a smile grew across her face, "Hey baby, want to join me?"
Her soft hand closed about his tightly before she started to pull him closer, the Aedile holding his ground causing her worry, "Methyas, what's wrong...what's going on?"
Squeezing her hand tightly in responce, the Miraluka responded quietly, "Markosian and Kar Alabrek are under seige and we fear Mucenic is next, I'm needed for the defense of this sanctuary and I want you to get up to Onyx."
Naomi's responce was exactly as the Miraluka had expected, panic and anger flowed from her moments before she shot up in bed, her hand quickly released from his as she started raving, "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! You have to be kidding me! You're all healed, we finally get time to be alone and relax and you drop this one me?!" She paused as Methyas got ready to talk, interrupting him before he could squeak out a word, "What are we up against? What's going to be beating the living snot out of you this time?"

As she started to move away from the bed and get changed, Methyas couldn't help be smile as he saw every single curve of her slender body through the Force, a smile only diminished by his readied response as he grabbed his sonar unit from the dresser nearby, "You, are not up against anything. You are going to be going up to Onyx where I know you'll be safe."
A glare crossed the woman's face as she snapped back, "Just answer the question L'eonheart!"
He grimaced for a moment as the beauty's agression peaked, "Reports indicate that both Alabrek and Markosian have seen hostiles in the thousands...I don't know if I believe it but the Ragnosians need me here until the rest of the Sadowans have arrived."
She paused as she finished sliding her pants around her hips, the expression on her face that of disbelief, "You tell me that and then expect me to leave...and you grabbed your sonar, there are Vong present?"
A small sigh escaped Methyas before he responded, "I had hoped you hadn't seen that...we're Jedi, lover. We can handle this, and once the remainder of the clan arrives from Aeotheran and Sepros we'll be laughing." He paused, just long enough for Naomi to finish dressing herself and grabbing some of her gear, "I need you to get up to Onyx and promise me you'll stay safe."

With her signature in the Force starting to return to it's calm blue once again, Naomi responded softly, "I'll do this for you...but you're really going to owe me for this."
She smiled and leaned in close, wrapping her arms around the Aedile before he responded, "I can't worry about you while I'm on the field, losing you would be...."
He paused long enough for the smaller woman to lean in and plant a soft kiss upon his lips, the two of them kissing slowly to passionately for a moment or two before the communicator on his hip started vibrating frantically. With a giggle, Naomi stepped back, grabbing the sonar device from Methyas and helping him strap it on as he responded, "I'll be there in a second Fremoc, just finishing gearing up and escorting precious cargo to the hangers for dust-off."
A simple chime was the only response before a solid snap followed by soft hands sliding down his body took his mind away from everything else, "Sonar and firearms strapped to your hip lover, let's get me to the hangers so you can play war."

With a brisk jog to the hangers, the pair never let each other's hands go, entering the hanger one of the remaining HLAFs was waiting upon the hanger floor. Moving to it's side the two let each other's hands go as Naomi slid open the cockpit and started the fighter before turning and grabbing Methyas by the collar and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Letting him go the young man was stunned for a second as the Doctor leapt into the cockpit, "I'll be waiting for you, don't come back to me in bits and pieces or worse. Losing you..."
Methyas interrupted as he heard the HLAFs engines kick into high gear, "I know."

As the hanger doors opened quickly, Methyas took enough steps back to ensure he was clear before Naomi went rocketing out and toward Platform Onyx in orbit. As the Miraluka watched his lover's signature leave the planet, he started towards the rest of the group quietly, joining up with the group right where he left off next to Fremoc.

Briefing Room
Marakith Skyhook
Low orbit over Aeotheran

It had been only a few weeks since Deliverance had been defeated and most of Lor Zatean had disappeared under the shroud of a massive fireball. On the skyhook, Locke once again found himself packed into a briefing room for another misson. In the center of the room was a plain, circular, durasteel-colored table. Around the room stood Locke’s Master Teu Pepoi, the Quaestor Dyrra Skye, and her apprentice Cev Nabina. In the time since the ordeal with Deliverance, Locke had only had time to introduce himself to the newer member of the House. Aside from that, Locke had been busy recuperating, and he assumed Cev was busy as well. He knew practically nothing about the other apprentice. But I'm sure that’s about to change.

Locke looked to each of them in turn, and then to Dyrra, who had cleared her throat and began speaking. “We’ve just received word from Tarthos. Our friends in House Marka Ragnos are now under attack. This time, the enemy is in great numbers, and there appear to be Ekind, as well as humanoids we call Vongspawn, which seem to be infected with some kind of Vong-like growth. Right now, this is all we know about them, but we suspect this controls them in some way.

“Regardless, we will be making our way via shuttle to Tarthos, where we will join the battle as quickly as possible. Any questions?”


No one spoke. This will be interesting Locke told himself silently. He wanted it to be, but the word ‘Vong’ had stirred memories of atrocity and battle that he would have rather lived without.

“Let’s move out then, “ Dyrra finished after a few seconds. The group left quickly, heading straight for the hangar and a waiting shuttle.

“What about weapons?” Locke asked.

“The shuttle should already be stocked with whatever we’ll need, “ Dyrra replied. Locke nodded.

They arrived at the hangar a moment later, and boarded the shuttle. Several armed soldiers followed into the shuttle and, busy as he was with his thoughts, Locke didn’t take time to note if any other Dark Jedi were among them.

As the shuttle left the station and entered hyperspace, Locke quickly found the weapons locker toward the rear of the main compartment. Kneeling down, he flipped the two heavy clasps up, letting the lid rise slowly, allowing two shelves to extend to the sides of the box as well. On them and inside were perhaps a dozen weapons. There were blasters of all sizes, as well as various types of melee weapons.

Locke analyzed the stash for a moment, before pulling a carbine from the middle. Halfway between a pistol and a rifle in size, it was a versatile weapon. This one had a scope mounted on top as well. He slipped the attached strap over his head and fitted the strap so the weapon would hang snugly across his back. Next he found a vibroblade, placing that weapon at his hip. He anticipated that this time, he would need a lot more firepower than before.

Then something else in the box caught his eye. “Hmm, “ Locke murmured, reaching into the cavity the vibroblade and carbine had occupied with both hands. Slowly, he hefted a larger rifle out of the depths of the box. It was the type that would take two hands to hold and was just short of requiring a tripod mount to fire. Locke realized he probably wouldn't be going anywhere fast with it, but he still felt it was appropriate for the mission. He had only wielded weapons like this against one type of enemy before, and that was the Yuuzhan Vong. These new creatures, he figured, might be similar somehow, so he would need all the firepower he could take.

Smiling, and temporarily forgetting his previous feelings, Locke strapped himself into one of the seats in the hold, letting the rifle lay across his lap. He noticed Teu briefly staring at him and rolling her eyes. “You men all think alike!” she said.

“What?” Locke laughed quietly, grinning. “Didn’t you just blow up half an island?”

“Two thirds.”

“Okay, two thirds of an island?”

“But that was different, “ she shot back confidentily, “that was for the pretty explosion.”

“Well, maybe I think dozens of holes in one target are pretty!”

She shook her head, and Locke thought he heard her mutter “just don’t start wearing Mando armor" as she turned away.

For once, he felt like he was just back in the war again. Heading into hostile territory, possibly against all odds, and somehow finding humor in it despite the situation. It felt…comforting, somehow.

Cenota Facility
Gamulag
Sepros Orbit
Orian Syatem

Tsainetomo and Macron debarked from the transport, striding confidently through the triple-sealed airlock.
Dlarit troopers and commandos with the peculiar insignia of the special operations group snapped to attention.
The two Equites conversed openly as they walked toward the command module.

"It's a serious matter," commented Sai dryly. "We'll need to go pay them a visit in person."

Macron nodded thoughtfully as he pressed his hand to the biometric scanner. The magnetically sealed blast door opened with a hiss. "Agreed. Let's collect our availiable assets and the best crack soldiers we can muster."

They both entered the command area. Lights blinked on and off as the two soldiers manning the controls began to stand up and salute.

"No need gentlemen," said Tsainetomo. "I'd rather have you at work at your position. I want all availiable DSOG assets assembled as rapidly as possible at the Muecnic area."

"Recall the Final Way from patrol," ordered the Consul. "Station it off Tarthos for 'repairs'. Let's send a message we mean business here."

Temple Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos


Kano checked over his weapons as he waited for the oncoming battle. His Westar-34 was in working condition and tucked into the holster at the lower section of his back. The ACP Array Gun was fully loaded with ammo tucked into pouches across the Mandalorian armor and the gun itself sling across the back armor plate. The black marbled lightsaber hilt was secured to his belt. Everything seemed to be in place yet something cried out that there was still something wrong. Kano began to sweat heavily under his armor although it was cooled to a relaxing temperature.

“What is wrong with this gorram suit?”

The Templar removed the gauntlets from his forearms and set them aside. He then drew out a knife and began to cut on the flight suit his armor plates hung from. When he was finished both sleeves had been removed and the gloves fingers were all cut off at the halfway point.

Kano then slid the gloves back on and placed the gauntlets back onto his forearms. The air on his skin was cool and relaxing compared the being in the stuffy full Mandalorian armor he was always in. It was still the same armor, it was just being changed.

Roxas noticed that Kano was slowly ripping his armor to pieces and walked over to talk to him.

“Kano, what are you doing to your armor?”

Kano looked up and pulled his mask off of his face. After all this time and even being the Templar’s former apprentice it was Roxas’s first time to see Kano’s face.

“I am fixing it.”

“But you destroyed your helmet vod. Are you becoming dar’manda?”

Kano threw his knife to the ground, causing it to stick into the dirt and with a burst of speed fueled by the Force darted towards Roxas. The Templar grabbed the Protector by his armor chest plate and sent him sliding across the ground with a powerful throw. As Roxas came to a stop Kano was right on top of him with his knee pressing onto the section of neck just under the journeyman’s helmet.

“If you ever use that word towards me again, I will kill you. Do you understand that?”

Kano pressed harder with his knee onto Roxas’s neck and looked straight into his formers apprentice’s T-shaped visor. A hand grabbed Kano by the collar, pulled him up to his feet, and spun him around. Fremoc stood looking at Kano with a very annoyed look upon his face.

“Take a walk Kano and get into the mood for this battle.”

Kano glanced back at Roxas still lying on the ground gasping inside his helmet and started to walk off. With a tug in the Force Kano pulled both his knife and his mask into his hands. As he walked off he started etching at the mask with his knife. Something was different in the former Sergeant and he was thinking this could be a good change.

Temple Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

Fremoc walked over and asked "Are you alright?" as he helped the Protector to his feet. Roxas looked at his Queastor and replied, "Yeah, he's different...sometthing's changed in him...his punches didn't feel the same."

Roxas patted the dirt from his armor, "He's still quick to attack though, so he couldn't have changed too much." Fremoc said with a small laugh, but he could also feel that something was different about Kano. Fremoc's comm link rang with an incomming call, he answered. "HI Fremmy" His wife sang on the other end of the line, "We are on our way to Tarthos now, we should be there soon." Fremoc with a smile on his face replied "okay honey."

Roxas looked away and quivered, Fremoc noticed this and said "Gagging, Roxas?" In a rush Roxas said, "NO, I'm okay" as not to offend his freind, "The lovey duvey stuff is just a little sickening, but please continue, don't let me bother you." Roxas walked off to let them finish their important conversation.

Temple Insides, Mucenic
Tarthos

The few members of HMR that went into the Temple to protect the civilians lead them deep within the temple, to a room that was stronger fortified than the majority of the temple. They had trouble reasuring the people of Mucenic that everything would be fine and that the best warriors were protecting them.

A call came across a comm link, "Are the civilians in a safe area of the temple?" asked Fremoc, "Yes sir, the civilians are all here and acounted for, we made sure to gather them in the safest place in the temple." one of the soldiers replied, "Good, guard them with your lives." Fremoc orderd. And with that the ones inside made sure that they armed enough to defend the people of Mucenic.

Somewhere along the Daragon Way
Space

Captain Senth of the Dlarit Special Operations Group picked the collar of his expensive jacket uncomfortably as he gripped the Deathshead's controls with his other hand.
"Stop fidgetting and concentrate." Malisane said from the passenger seat.
"I am not used to this sort of outfit Battlelord," the DAC replied, "nor with our respective roles. I would serve better as your guard."
Malisane gave him a hard look. "You're used to doing what I order soldier," the Rollmaster snapped, "and that is to distract attention while I investigate. Now concentrate I sense something."
As if on signal sensor blips appeared on the scannor, first small fighters then larger maurader class corvettes moving outwards from a central location, patrolling and sending signals to ships who like the Deathshead was waiting. Senth clicked a button when sending what they were certain was the correct response to the hail.
Then it appeared from hyperspace dwarfing everything around, an immense mass of metal made up of the hulls of ships and spacestations. Refuge. On the scanner they could make out ships launching from it going on their journeys, while others queued up to dock. They both glanced down as docking co-ordinates appeared on the cockpit terminal. Malisane smiled grimly remembering the last time they were here. "Take us in Captain."
"Yes Battlelord."

Sector Five
Refuge

Senth walked slowly down the ramp into the small docking bay, as a custom's official in the employ of whatever crimelord now ruled this sector following Drastig's demise. Behind him Malisane strode, wearing heavy armour he'd managed to coerce off the Mando's in the clan and carrying a heavy rifle. "State your business in Sector Seven," the offical asked.
"Personal business," Senth replied, "and some entertainment hopefully. I here this is the place to come for both."
The offical glanced at Malisane. "You may have to check your weapons."
Malisane looked down at the rifle then back at the offical. "It seems fine," he said, focusing on the man with a suggestion, "now push off."
The official backed off, "Very well, enjoy your visit."
Senth nodded. "We will." He checked that the ship was sealed then lead the Battlelord out into the promenade.

Dlarit Shuttle
Approaching Tarthos Orbit
Orian System

Soolin was meditating in a small sleeping area when the door beeped. She opened her eyes slowly and frowned. "Yes?"
Jedi Hunter Locke Sonji entered. She smiled. "What's up?"
Locke pointed to the corridor. "We're coming up on Tarthos, the Quaestor wants everyone in the main area for a briefing. They're making contact with the surface now."
Soolin nodded and got to her feet, buckling her saber onto the waist of her Krath robes and stretching. "Lead on Locke."

Refugee Resettlement Center
Aeotheran, Orian System

Paperwork littered Araic Simonetti’s desk in the prefabricated office the Corporation had flown in followed the Voice of Justice incident. A Dlarit Marine from Special Operations stood to attention at the entranceway, rifle braced against his shoulder—a sign of the changing times.

Peace? He’d told them since the war ended that ‘peace’ was nothing more but a fantasy the public were told so they slept at night. In the real world, however, peace was an illusion. But the darksiders had had better ideas; they didn’t want to sent in DSOG; they tried to do it the peaceful way. And where had that got them? Civil unrest.

They should have listened to him. The Force was one thing. But military strategy was his domain. The Commander of Special Operations planned to keep it that way from now on.

Araic looked up at the guard. ‘Nobody ever told me joining the Admiralty Board meant a desk job,’ he grumbled. The guard remained where he was, but the black helmet glanced down and Araic was sure he heard a slight laugh through the external vocoder. ‘Still, I’m told the upgrades to my ship are nearly done. Then someone else can deal with the halfwits here.’

And halfwits was precisely what they were. It was a shame General Raistlin didn’t have the authority he once held. He’d agreed with Araic: they should just have bombed the refugee village the moment that bitch started her crusade. But no.

Araic grumbled to himself and got back to working through the refugees’ security checks. It was impossible to know who had supported the terrorists, but at least the darksiders had allowed him to return to tried and tested methods. That meant torture.

And handing out capital punishment to those found guilty.

The fleet admiral may have had no love for the warlords that now ruled what was left of the Empire, but that didn’t mean he disagreed with the old methods of Vader and Palpatine. Now, those two had known how to keep people in line.

It was funny... six years ago the revelation that he’d unknowingly been working for darksiders had shocked him to the core. During the Fall of Antei, he’d nearly surrendered the Covenant to the Vong, believing a certain death was better than the mind-controlled slavery that awaited him as a slave to the Sith. The mad alchemist had horrified him, in particular.

However, that Araic was gone, transformed when he’d come face-to-face with the horrors of the Yuuzhan Vong during that final battle during the Orian Blitz. His decision to authorise Operation Rancor—was he any better than the alchemist these days?

If anything, he was far, far worse.

Never before—and never since—had violator gas been deployed on such a vast scale. Thousands, probably tens of thousands, of lives now lay upon his shoulders. The bastards only got what they deserved—and, even then, they deserved much, much less than that. I gave them a quick death. The Vong should have been made to suffer... suffer like the galaxy had.

Araic was broken out of his thoughts by his comlink suddenly vibrating in his pocket. Putting down the paperwork for one Gades Sophus, he withdrew the device. ‘Simonetti.’

‘Admiral, I’ve got a Priority Alpha coming in from Tarthos. It’s General Cargas.’

A Priority Alpha? That couldn’t be good... Araic felt himself smile for the first time in days. Not good meant something more interesting than this camp full of lowlifes. ‘Patch it through,’ the fleet admiral said calmly, professionally; this was his job after all. This was what he lived for.

‘Commander,’ Byron Cargas said, ‘we’ve got a situation! Aliens! Mutants! They’re hitting us everywhere!’

‘Hold yourself together, man!’ Araic snapped, his cool temperament disappearing some. ‘You’re meant to be in charge there. Act like it.’

A pause. He heard Byron clear his throat. ‘Sorry, Commander... Araic.’

Araic felt his tension soften again. ‘What’s happening, Byron? Talk to me.’

‘It’s—I don’t know what it, Araic. They came out of the ground. They hit us everywhere. Markosian—the city walls won’t hold out for long. There’s another group on route to Mucenic. They—they need help, Araic. They can’t hold off a legion of Vongspawn.

Araic felt his heart lodge in his throat. VONGSPAWN?!

‘Did you just say Vongspawn?’

A gulp came through the comm channel. ‘Mutants, Araic. Yes. They’re—’ A long pause, ‘they’re our own people, Araic!’ Another pause. ‘I don’t know how to put this, Araic, but—they’re zombies. It’s like Kar Alabrek is taking its revenge on us.’

Kar Alabrek. The city he’d given the order to abandon to the toxins unleashed by the Vong during the Blitz. DSOG had spent the last two years trying to clean it up, but right now everyone was still living in Markosian City instead. That was why Deliverance and her gang had been in uproar over the refugees being left out in the cold.

But none of that mattered right now.

Kar Alabrek was a crater. It couldn’t be a threat...

‘What do you mean “Kar Alabrek”, Byron?’

There was another long pause before the Dlarit Army’s commanding officer answered. ‘I saw her, Byron. I saw Seni.’

What? ‘Seni? What in the Nine Hells do you mean “you saw Seni”? Seni’s dead!’

Araic was angry now. Seni had died in the Blitz. He’d never even gotten the opportunity to bury her; and their last meeting had been before his rotation to patrol the Pipeline to the Hydian Way... that had been over two months before her passing. Kar Alabrek... it’d been contaminated by the biological weapons. He’d left her to rot with the thousands of others who’d never been properly laid to rest. Seni... forgive me. ‘Byron, answer me!’

‘I’m sorry, Araic.’ The man’s sympathy was genuine. ‘She... you don’t want the details.’

Yes, he did. But he knew they wouldn’t help. Seni was dead. She’d been dead two years. What this was... whatever it was... it was... it was a desecration. The dead should be laid to rest. You did not torment them beyond that they had already been forced to endure in life. He swallowed a deep breath, then let it out again.

‘Byron, I’m sorry for shouting. I’ll assemble my men here and return to the Final Way. We’ll be there inside the hour. I promise.’

‘Thank you, Admiral. Mucenic... they need you first. We can hold out here for a while longer. I believe the Governor General is on Gamuslag at Cenota. You should pick up the garrison there on the way across system.’

Araic nodded. ‘I’ll do that. Don’t worry, Byron. We’re coming. Just hold on.’ I don’t want another life on my hands.

The comm channel went dead and once more the fleet admiral found himself in silence. He sat there a moment, taking in what he’d just heard. The dead walked again? Vongspawn?
He knew the viruses were lethal but...

Even in death the Yuuzhan Vong wouldn’t leave him alone.

There was no peace.

The Sith spoke the truth.

You think you can haunt me, Vong? You don’t know who you’re kriffing with. I can kill ghosts just as easily as flesh and blood. Be sure of that, you kriffing undead scarheads.

He looked up at the entrance guard, who, to his immense credit, had not moved an inch, even though he would have heard every word of Araic’s conversation with Byron. ‘Trooper, I want every last marine in this camp airborne. And I mean now. We’ve got a planet to save.’

Temple Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

Fremoc was, to say the least, not afraid of the oncoming onslaught. There was very little in what scared him these days, having knocked on death's door numerous times, and still lived to tell the tale. Although he was facing an enemy that was easily one thousand times larger than the numbers he currently had outside the Temple, he was oddly certain that death wasn't upon them. He could sense his wife's presence getting closer to the monastery at blazing speeds.

They must be doing a micro jump to get here...

He expanded his senses even farther, searching the grounds, the areas outside Mucenic, trying to find where the attack was coming from. He felt a touch of a presence somewhere to the North of Mucenic, surrounded by a void of nothing. He had dealt with Vong before, and not being able to feel them in the Force made things difficult for him, as well as the other Dark Jedi. Without any words, the Templar moved towards the North, his hand grasping his lightsaber tightly. Kano knew where his former master was going, as did Methyas and Araxis. No more words needed to be spoken, as every person in Marka Ragnos began to follow, leaving only a handful to defend the great Temple of Ragnos’ doors.

The void in the Force was getting closer, as the Ragnosians followed their leader. The small group stood past the small wall surrounding the monastery, just as the first Vongspawn came over the hill.

Hilltop above Mucenic

Warlord Akrellum Perius stood at the top of the hill in front of his Ekind troops and Vongspawn that Nal Yin had given him. He saw a group of people with assorted armor and weapons. The Warlord chuckled to himself as he thought that this was the perfect group to test his troops on as he sacked the Monastery.

”ATTACK!!!” yelled the Ekind Commander, as he stood at the top of the hill. He watched as the Vong Spawn rushed down the hill weapon-less while his Ekind held swords and various other weapons.

Mucenic

The Vongspawn rushed down the hill towards the Ragnosians, the hundreds of them seemingly would overwhelm the collected Dark Jedi. Nervousness swept through some of them, especially the Journeymen. He turned and looked at the people he had had the good graces of leading for almost two years. “No one will die today…” the nervousness stayed. “No one will die today! I know I didn’t give you all an inspiring speech, but you all know by now, I speak the truth. None of you will die today.”

The Templar turned back to the onslaught approaching them, and broke into a soft trot, before running at full speed towards the Vongspawn. His emerald blade lit with a loud snap-hiss, as he neared the wave of troops.

“For Ragnos!” He yelled, he heard the rest of Marka Ragnos light their blades as well as they followed him. “FOR SADOW!!!”

Mucenic
Tarthos


Kano followed closely behind his former master towards the massively compiled collection of enemies. This is what the Mandalorian lived for. It was that feeling before a battle that you know you might not walk away from. It was the urge to cause harm to another to ensure your own survival. For a split second a thought crossed into the Templar’s mind. ‘It isn’t any of that. It is the thrill of ending someone else’s life.’ Kano shook off the thought and watched as Fremoc knocked away several blaster bolts from the oncoming attackers.

Kano pulled the Westar-34 from the holster on his left hip and drew his lightsaber into his right hand. The sapphire blade sprang to life, as did many others around him.

The first of the enemy’s forces was now just feet from the Marko Ragnos Quaestor. The mutated warrior rose it’s blaster over its head in an attempt to bring it down as a club on Fremoc’s head. The Templar ducked the swing and brought his emerald blade through both of the creature’s legs. As it let out a scream and began to fall to the ground Fremoc spun and with a flash severed the screaming attackers head.

With the first of the enemies down chaos broke loose. Blaster bolts tore through the air and lightsabers sliced through the wind. Kano fired blind shots into the crowd of enemies until a blaster bolt slammed hard into the Templar’s armor chest plate. With a furious rage Kano turned and his heart instantly sank at what he saw. The black hair with purple highlights was the first thing that stood out and then it was the eyes. They were the eyes that almost caused the Mandalorian to settle down until the woman they belong to up and vanished.

Kano let a single word slip from his lips under his helmet, “Baki.”

The female still wore the same revealing outfit she had been wearing the last time they spoke and it showed a massive scar that ran down his former lover’s body. Images of the past raced into Kano’s head. The world was moving around his so fast that he seemed to be standing still. To his right Kano could see Roxas entering his vision and heading headlong into the battle. Baki rose her blaster and took aim at the battle ready Protector.

Kano’s world was split in two as he reacted. The Templar rushed Roxas and slammed the Protector hard to the ground. At the same time a bolt from Baki’s blaster slid across the durasteel mask resting on Kano’s face. Not a second passed before the Mandalorian sent a bolt of his own at the woman he dreamed of on many nights. The bolt tore through Baki’s head and dropped her to the ground. Roxas, still on the ground, sent several shots into the growing rush of enemy forces. Kano reached down and jerked his former apprentice to his feet, “This don’t change nothing rookie.”

Mucenic
Tarthos

Araxis watched as Fremoc pounded into the enemy wave, annihilating all who got in his path. Within mere moments blaster bolts streaked across the field of war, it made Araxis think of a piece of art work he once saw as a child. "As to the field of battle; it is the abiding of the dead, and he who wishes to die shall live, and he who wishes to live shall die" he thought to himself, words that had always been meaningful in his life. Suddenly he was snapped back to the real world with one blaster bolt screeching across his lower breast plate. "Karkin' Hell! Too close, time to get into this mess" Araxis said to himself igniting his crimson saber, deflecting several incoming blaster shots.

Moving his way past several of his brethren with a tight weaving pattern, the Knight passed his friend Kano and former apprentice Roxas, a mutter of words were spoked, but none were clear to Araxis. He was now in close on the enemy vongspawn, blaster bolts still zooming by, Araxis picked out a single target to engage first, "Time to DIE Vongspawn!" he shouted, chopping down a Vongspawn's chest. The first kill, not pretty, but then again it wasn't suppose to be, just needed to be enough to get the job done. Turning to his right, the crimson blade being held in reverse hummed, it sought the death of countless more and Araxis had no plan on starving his weapon. Deflecting a few more blaster bolts, Araxis scouted out another victim, charging in with enhanced speed, Araxis hit the vongspawn on the head with the hilt of his saber as he caught it off-guard. Throwing himself into a backflip, the top of his armor boot caught it in the chin sending it head over heels. As Araxis landed on his feet, took a moment to watch as the vongspawn as it fell head first toward the field of battle on which it once stood. It was almost like slow motion for Araxis, but he would take pleasure in this kill and the countless more that would come. Timing his final shot on this vongspawn, Araxis brought his crimson blade across the creatures neck line, severing its life, and blew its body backwards with the force into more vongspawn.

Bringing himself to see his former Master about to be swarmed over, Araxis dove into to assist Fremoc. Fremoc turned to see a vongspawn readying an attack but noticed one thing different, a crimson blade impaled through the creatures chest. As the body dropped, Araxis stood on the otherside, a quick nod and he turned to defend his former masters back, "For Ragnos and Sadow eh Patessa?"

Mucenic
Tarthos


Roxas laughed at Kano's statement as he continued his onslaught of attacks toward the enemy line. "I wouldn't have it any other way," Roxas replied with a bit of a joyfull tone. Battle is what Roxas lived for, the excitement of combat and the thrill of the kill. The Protector welcomed war with a calm yet strong outlook. "Let me show you exactly what I can do Kano!" the Protector shouted, wanting to prove his Mandalorian heritage.

The Vongspawn were extemly tough, they had strength beyond anything the Journeymen had ever seen. Fremoc and Kano were making the Vongspawn look like weaklings as they slaughtered them left and right, it was an inspiring sight to behold. The journeymen watching the two of them in action lifted their spirits, and remembering the words of incouragement Fremoc gave them "No one will die today", encouraged the Journeymen to fight with every bit of power and strength in their bodies and souls.

The Vonspawn out numbered them, but the Ragnosians seemed to be handling the Vongspawn easily, though the Journeymen were obviously not killing them with as much ease, but they were proving their worth. All the Journeymen were fighting bravely; Sarconn with his fighting styles, Roxas with his blasters, they were not going to lose this battle, they refused to. Enemies falling all around them, the Ragnosian fought with all they had to defend their home from the Ekind and Vongspawn invaders.

Temple Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

The battle had brought about an eeire calm in the Miralukan Aedile, his lover leaving the field of battle had allowed his mind to focus on the coming battle. Images flashed through the Knight's head like an old holovid, the sparks of life he had grown so close to throughout his childhood vanishing as the ghosts claimed their lives on Mandalore; their screams echoing in his ears as his sonar barked out locations of the ghosts as they moved towards him. The heat of his durasteel armour causing the air around him to grow tighter, his breathing ragged and shallow as the enemy's greatest weapon took hold; fear.
The younger journeymen about the Aedile began to keep their distance as the air about him began to grow more saturated with the Force; the sheer pressure from his anger and agression leaching out into the air about him through his signature as he released his vigilant hold on the fountain that threatened to give him away to those in the Force. As the gates opened the pressure grew and the air about him began to appear as a brilliant lightshow through his eyes, the tendrils of the Force leaking away from him like a basin of water overflowing. The only thing bringing the Miraluka, the Mandalorian Knight back to the present was his informal Master's cry, "NO ONE WILL DIE TODAY!"

With sudden vivid clarity, Methyas was back in his own mind, the gates closed in an instant as though a void appeared in the Force for a moment as he held his breath, Fremoc's next statement steeling his Aedile's nerves, "For Ragnos! For Sadow!"
Like a dog let off his chain, Methyas let loose and launched foward into the makeshift army before him; his traditional robes and blindfold white scarf fluttering about him as he moved. Every fiber of his body seemed to shake with the anger that coursed through him as he gave way to emotion, the Force his impliment of destruction as he augmented his physical skills to lay waste to the abominations that stood before him. These monsters, these Vongspawn were easy prey, being not entirely Vong the Force intertwined with what it could still touch, what had originally spoken with the Force where these foul creatures had left their experiments be. With almost a feral carnage Methyas tore limbs from these adversaries as he dove deeper into the heart of their formation, using these appendages as tools of death; a broken arm becoming an impromptu dagger, a hastily removed leg becoming a terrifying staff and loose articles such as teeth, fingers or toes becoming projectiles as the Knight deftly implanted them in various heads, chests and appendages with the Force heeding his call.

As these Ghouls surrounded him, Methyas grew more fierce and bold, his anger driving him and influencing those near him to an almost unspeakable bloodlust as his signature flowed from him to those engaged about him. The Ghouls began to try to overwhlem him, working as a group to eliminate the lone Sadowan even as the Ragnosians on the fringes fought to rejoin with him. As their efforts began to succeed and the Knight found himself slowly being dragged down and buried beneath these monstrousities he let out a fiercesome roar accompanied by an impulse that tossed the creatures about him. A mere meter diameter had been afforded by the impressive push as the Miraluka visibly panted from the effort exhurted from his violent spree but those who had grown close to him were unsure what had overcome the Knight from his usual collected self. As some Journeymen laid their eyes upon him they somehow knew he wouldn't stop; with a quick flash the Cerulean blade at the Knight's side sprang to life with a violent snap-hiss. It didn't matter to him that these had once been people, been someone's loved one or a brave soldier who had given his life to help the Ragnosians; all that mattered to him was these monsters were tied to the same creatures who had killed everyone he'd ever loved and if he had to kill anyone and everyone in his path to slay every last filthy, wretched Vong it would be a price he'd be willing to pay.

- The Woods
- Mucenic
- Tarthos
- A few minutes ago

“Contact.” Came over the comm earbud sitting in the ear Venator, the Miralukan Dark Jedi who was cooling his heels in a cave behind the waterfall that also concealed the hangars above him. His hands were on his blades before he’d even realized he’d reached for them. In that same moment he’d pushed out his senses and saw the bright lights of energy from lightsabers, blaster fire, and the force sensitive people operating them. Then the dimmer but no less crisp lights of the DSOG personnel, and the rest of the life in the world around him.

Then, then came the dull haze of the Vongspawn. Barely there, not so much a presence in the Force but a whisper, he could barely make them out. Closer up he should be able to make out better detail, but no more than enough to fight them.

At least, that’s what he was hoping for.

- The Woods
- Mucenic
- Tarthos
- Now

One knee was bent, the other was straight out, and Venator was spinning through the cyclone foot sweep and rolled laterally into a handstand to dodge a top down strike from one of the ghouls. He couldn’t stop there however. He turned the handstand into a handspring vault and landed on his feet. From there, it was a reach for his blades at the small of his back while he dropped into a split to avoid weapon fire.

“Damnit,” He swore as the blaster fire ripped over his head. Venator laid back, brought his feet together and kipped up, whipping his arms around and gashing two ghouls across the stomach. Their entrails became their extrails all over the ground but he kept moving forward. These kills had to be fast. Much faster in fact than his usual. Being hard to see, Venator’s targets were being picked through instinct more than evaluation.

The worst part was, they were already dead, so his usual methods of killing weren’t the most effective. The pair he’d just disemboweled were still shuffling forward, but they were at least tripping over their own intestines.

“This isn’t working,” he thought to himself as he cleared a firing zone. He resheathed his knives and reached for the vibroblade at his back. With the length of the weapon he could get some actual cleaving done, and it left his left hand open to grasp his lightsaber. He’d not had much time with the weapon, but he was at least certain he wouldn’t kill himself with it. Mostly certain.

He dove into the fray then, but only made two steps of progress before he was tossed away laterally to the path of his own trajectory, like a rag doll being chucked by a wookie.

He slammed into a tree, but it was far enough away that he’d bled off most of his momentum. He was up and looking in an instant, and saw the glow of someone aiming dead at him, someone he wasn’t familiar with.

“Dark Jedi,” She said, and as she walked closer, it was plainly clear that it was most certainly a woman. She swiveled her hips with each step and the tone of her voice was sultry and deep. It wasn’t the voice of a woman engaged in warfare. “How does it feel, having your tricks used against you?”

Angrily, Venator pushed against the tree he was standing near to vault towards her, but she shoved him again, this time the full brunt of her shove drove him flat into the trunk of the very large and very unforgiving tree.

She leaned forward into him and made a sour face. “How unbecoming.” She said disapprovingly. With that, she reached up, cupped Venator’s cheek and slid her hand up his face before plucking one of the eyes from his sockets.

“Nobody should hide who they are, dear Miraluka.” She said as she looked at his fake eye. She held it in the palm of her hand and blew on it, shooting it away at ballistic velocity at one of the DSOG operators. It blew through his chest and he went down crumpled.

Venator scowled at her as she turned back to look at him. She took his cheek again and forced his face forward. He snarled at her, but he was still pushed tight against the tree. She leaned in again and performed what could only be called a parody of a kiss, which she ended by biting deep into his lower lip.

The pain was exquisite, as her teeth had been filed into sharp points. He could taste the blood welling in his mouth from it, mingling with the blood that had came up when he’d hit the tree. He spat it aside with a grin. Her grip against him was loosening.

“What amuses you Dark Jedi?” She said, watching him smile. “Your people will tire, ours will not. It’s only a matter of time and attrition. You should spare yourself the trouble and serve us.”

Venator could feel the tendrils of the Force tickling his brain with her words. It would have worked too, but he was in too much pain. He’d begun devolving back into the animal he’d been for so long, and wounded creatures aren’t much for reason or persuasion. No, he laughed, his connection to his own sapience keeping him at least reasonable enough to remember his weapons. One of which lay on the ground at her feet.

He reached out with the Force, still laughing at her, which only served to distract and infuriate her to the point of slapping and punching him. One fine filament of energy is all it took to pull the throwing dart from it’s hidden sheath in the grip of his left hand trench knife. He pushed it up through her skirts and flicked it at the end of it’s path, nicking her very near the femoral artery.

She howled then, pulled Venator back, and Force pushed him into another tree. “You will suffer for that!” She screamed, and bounced him off of yet another tree. Each slam hurt, horrifically so, easily breaking ribs, dislocating joints, and certainly dazing him, but still Venator kept laughing.

“Why do you laugh?” She screamed before tossing him almost casually at the roots of a much larger tree. She then signaled for a pair of the ghouls who proceeded to beat and kick at the Miralukan hunter. He could tell that they were punishing him at their mistresses command, either could have killed him but they were holding back.

She was laughing at him then, all the while a tiny stream of blood trickled down her leg to curve around her calf and drip into her shoe. “I can laugh too Dark Jedi. It’s very liberating.”

“I have a reason though,” Venator said, spitting out another glob of blood.

“What reason?” She said, stumbling towards him. She flicked her tongue to the corner of her mouth and tasted sweat. She looked down then and saw a veritable stream pouring down her cleavage as well.

“Because you spent all this time toying with me, and all you did was work the poison into your system that much faster.” Venator said, cackling with malevolent laughter. “The sweats prove you’re terminal. It’s the last indicator before your heart seizes and your lungs stop.”

She scowled again as she stumbled another step, this one bringing her to a knee. “Kill him,” she croaked as she clutched her chest and face-planted.

The two ghouls raised their clubs, one of which a stout piece of wood while the other held a very, VERY large hydro spanner. They went to bring them down when an azure disc whipped through them, neatly hewing them in twain. That same disc spun about and returned to the hand of a Mandalorian armored soul.

“Got to watch out for our own,” Came the voice of Methyas as he turned to get back to the gruesome business of killing his foes. It was cracked, but only a little, and Venator swore he heard a faint giggle as the more powerful darksider attended his business.

Hauling himself to his feet, Venator gathered his things and made movement to clear the engagement zone. He was useless until he could find a healer, or at least some bandaging to hold his damaged ribs in a semblance of place.

Cenota Facility
Gamulag
Sepros Orbit
Orian System

"Report," ordered Tsainetomo with a crinkled brow.

"Sir, we have multiple reports of Vong-spawn down there," commented one of the intelligence officers. "The defenders are holding but have taken losses. Reports indicate that ostensibly dead persons from the area have been seen among the attacking forces."

"Dead?" asked Macron with a puzzled expression. "Do tell."

"Yes sir, ah... apparently Ariac Simonetti's former girlfriend is among them." The intel officer loosened his collar uncomfortably.

"Simonetti. Won't he be pleased to see me again. Hehehe. Copy that, " replied the Sith as he peered at the display. "RSD Final Way has arrived in orbit. Both Vindicators are stationed alongside with TIE bombers fully loaded."

The Proconsul nodded thoughtfully. "Are we in agreement?"

"Indeed," replied the Sith Warlord. "We hit them hard, as hard as possible. The Harbinger and both Victory-class star destroyers remain on patrol," he added. "All 48 TIE bombers are to begin air support as soon as the Vindicators arrive."

The Krath pointed to the display. "Commander Krasik, send orders to the helms of both the Final Way and The Turmoil and Despot. Turmoil and Despot to move in to strike range at once and deploy all available ground and air assets to assist the defenders on Tarthos. When the Final way arrives we will deploy air and ground forces from that vector as well."

"Bomb the damnable vong-spawn and their Ekind 'leaders' back to the stone age," chuckled Macron. "They'll have to retreat and give our forces some breathing room. Dead, undead, living, it's all the same to an antimatter bomb."

"You don't frack around, do you? Always appreciated that about you m'friend. I agree," replied Sai. "Let's board the Final Way. Our best troopers are already aboard along with the garrison from this facility. I've already informed the defenders help is on the way via coded channels."

"What about the Aeotheran-based Clan assets?" asked the Consul guardedly.

"Sir, several are already aboard the Final Way and every available shuttle and transport are being deployed to move them," stated Krasik. "With your permission sir I will give the rendezvous orders."

"Do it," snarled the Marshal Commander. Macron clenched his fists. "I hate the Vong and any of their filthy allies," he giggled. "Let us make the Ekind fully extinct. It's past their bedtime anyhow."

Both the Consul and Proconsul strode from the command center towards the docking bay. A lambda-class shuttle awaited them. Shortly they would be aboard the RSD Final Way and en-route to the horrid battle scene.

"We should have a little chat," said Tsainetomo casually. "We have much to discuss before we land."

"Yes. I must also find myself a scout familar with the terrain down there," shuddered the Consul. "I do hate those 'natural' areas so."

Skies over Mucenic
Tarthos

After what had seemed like an eternity, the shuttle had finally entered realspace. Now, it was rapidly descending through the lower atmosphere of Tarthos. Ready in the main hold, along with the rest of the Dark Jedi, Locke adjusted the headset that looped over his hair one more time. “Testing…” he said, balancing the heavy repeater across his lap.

“Loud and clear,” came a call back from the cockpit. “Heads up, sensors read a few friendlies and massive amounts of hostiles. The friendlies are defending the temple.”

Dyrra, who was seated across the hold from Locke, was the first to respond, “bring us in a safe distance away. The last thing we want to do is get shot before we can help.”

“Yes ma’am, “the call came back, ‘but ah, if I may say so, our allies on the ground are nearly overwhelmed.”

Locke felt a momentary surge of anger from Dyrra, but then it was gone. “Quaestor, if I may suggest something.”

She nodded. “Go ahead Locke.”

“I went through situations like this a lot in the war with the ‘Vong. If the pilot hovers slightly away from the battle, and drops the boarding ramp, everyone can slip out while I cover with this baby, “he finished, gesturing at the oversized weapon in his hands. Of course, in the war, they had rarely had Jedi, and had to practically land, but here they should have been able to do it higher up.

After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Dyrra nodded and radioed the pilot again. “Take us in low next to the battle and flank the enemy, drop the boarding ramp as soon as we’re within fifty feet of the ground, Jedi Hunter Locke will give you further orders.” Locke heard her switch off her comlink. “You can handle that, right?”

“Yeah, “ Locke answered, “No problem.” He tried not to think of all the times things had gone wrong in the war when he was in charge. This is different. You’re not the man you were then, and besides, you have the Force.

Getting up, Locke lowered himself into a sitting position on the boarding ramp as the team of Dark Jedi and support soldiers gathered behind him. Moments after he secured himself in place, the pilot came on the com again. “’Ready?”

“All accounted for, “ Locke replied. With a metallic whine the boarding ramp lowered itself to its full extent, revealing the battle as if a curtain was pulled away. A sustained gust of wind began to buffet Locke as he surveyed the scene below.

On one side, there were masses of half-dead looking humanoids, being guided and pushed on by particular looking aliens. Those had to be the Vongspawn and Ekind. They reminded Locke of the reptilian slave soldiers the ‘Vong had used during the war. Disgusting things. These are probably just as bad. On the other side there was a small group of defenders. Between the two groups was a firestorm of laser bolts, with lightsabers pushing into the crowd of Vongspawn, some of them punctuated with Mandalorian helms that shimmered in the sunlight. Aiming deep into the throng of Vongspawn, Locke picked a target at random, braced himself, and opened fire.

Bolts sprayed from the spinning barrels of the repeater like elongated fireballs flanked by bright explosions, as Locke raked fire through the crowd. He noted that some of the Vongspawn who took only a few shots shrugged them off and got back up, but the ones who had taken multiple blasts to the chest or face had stayed down. For good measure, Locke drew another arc back across the throng, dropping another dozen or so of the zombie-like creatures. “Go, “ he said, nodding his head quickly to the side, as if to gesture toward the exit. The shuttle had dropped to just above the ground now. “Pilot, hover here, “ Locke ordered. The craft came to a standstill, and on cue Dyrra and Cev dropped down below, mere meters away from the enemy swarm. The others followed, the soldiers forming a perimeter and beginning to fire as Dyrra’s blue lightsaber flashed to life, already redirecting bolts back to their sources.

All that was left was Locke and Teu. “Apprentice, “ she said firmly.

“I’m fine, “ Locke replied. He really was. He hadn’t felt this calm in a long time. Maybe he really did like fighting after all. “After you, Master.”

Nodding, Teu jumped into the fray, her own lightsaber igniting before she touched the ground. Locke watched her go, watching as she and Dyrra led the group ahead, closing on the swarm of Vongspawn.

“Pilot, “ Locke started, “slide to your port, and drop until I tell you to stop.”

“Yessir, ” came the reply. Locke could sense hesitation, but the pilot no doubt knew how Dark Jedi usually treated questioning officers. Locke would probably never harm a subordinate in that situation, but the pilot didn’t need to know that at the moment.

The shuttle slowly began to drop, but Locke didn’t stop firing. Occasional Vongspawn noticed him, and he quickly gunned them down as they lumbered or ran toward him, depending on their wounds and mutations. “Lower… lower…” Locke said. The ground was coming up slowly; he reached out with the Force, feeling the ground and the shuttle’s boarding ramp, “lower… lower… stop!” The boarding ramp was now only a couple of feet off the ground. Locke slid off the ramp, standing easily, still firing into the crowd. “Thanks pilot, take off and await further orders.” There was a curt reply, and the ramp raised and the shuttle was gone, but Locke barely noticed. He was fully focused on the crowd now. As he advanced, Locke really looked at the Vongspawn for the first time.

They were beings of every race and shape. Many had old wounds, and all had some sort of growth on their bodies; ridges or bumps covering a face here, arms there, the entire body of another. All of them looked dead. Some had weapons. Many seemed to be wielding these as cudgels, even if they would normally be ranged. A few, however, seemed to still know how to fire a blaster, and were making liberal use of that ability. Locke chose those first, snarling disgust. Despite all the atrocities and strange things Locke had seen during the 'War, he was still astounded by these creatures. They seemed to really be dead, yet here they were, walking clear as day…and attacking.

Then there were their Ekind masters. Strange creatures, but nearly human in appearance, they seemed much more focused, and decidedly not dead. Their weapons seemed to range from vibroblades to higher-powered blaster weapons. As one turned for Locke, he aimed his weapon toward her, holding it in place as bolt after bolt struck the Ekind’s chest. At first she staggered, but soon fell under the sustained fire, and Locke turned the rifle on the Vongspawn that had taken the time to get closer to him. As he finished, more advanced toward Locke.

This is going to be a very, very long day. But then, so were most of the battles in the ‘War….

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Flagship, Dlarit Special Operations Group
Cenota Orbit, Orian System

At the front of the bridge, Fleet Admiral Araic Simonetti, Commanding Officer of Special Operations, stared out at the contaminated wasteland that was Gamuslag, the first moon of Orian V, Sepros, and home to the clandestine Cenota Facility, the Corporation’s detention centre, as well as the site of its top secret cloning installation.

He’d missed this. How long had it been since last he’d had command? He’d handed Final Way’s captaincy over to her first officer, before taking up a permanent dirt job to oversee the reconstruction effort following the final battle of the war. That was nearly two years ago now.

It felt good to be back on his ship’s bridge.

I’ve missed you, baby. Is Captain Bahr treating you well?

A whoosh sounded behind him. The turbolaser doors opening.

Casually—this was his ship, he didn't rush for anyone, Sith or otherwise—Araic turned to see the tattooed face of the governor general stride onto the bridge. The rest of the crew immediately turned, saluting, but Araic held his ground until Goura was five feet away, then gave a short, crisp salute. There was still a certain unease between the two of them, however much the admiral no longer regarded the other man as a monstrous butcher like he had when they first met back during the Fall of Antei. ‘Governor.’

The alchemist cut right to the chase. ‘The Cenota division is onboard, Admiral.’ The man’s voice was terse, weary. The reports from Tarthos—well, whatever you called that mystic telepathy the darksiders communicated with—must not have been good. ‘You can begin the micro-jump sequence.’

‘It will be done, my lord,’ said Araic, turning to his former first officer, now captain, Igniv Bahr. ‘Captain.’ Igniv nodded, then raised his hand; it was all the bridge crew needed to begin the jump sequence which would carry the ship the short distance across the system to Tarthos or Orian VII.

Araic turned back to the Sith. For a long moment, the two men simply stared at each other, neither speaking. Then, the admiral said, ‘I assembled what commandos I had on the ground on Aeotheran before leaving.’ There may only have been a few hundred Dlarit Commandos, but they were the cream of the crop, genetically engineered to be the best a warrior could be. One DC was worth a hundred ordinary soldiers. ‘A number of your warriors from Marakith boarded before we jumped to Gamuslag, as well.’

The alchemist nodded, though the tension on his face remained. ‘Excellent, Admiral.’

Another silence stretched out until it was broken by Captain Bahr.

‘Sirs? Jump commencing.’

And with that the stars stretched into starlines and the Final Way leapt into hyperspace.

The Sith studied the blue vortex. ‘You did well with Operation Rancor, Admiral,’ he said, a slight hint of humour. ‘I never knew you had it in you.’

Neither did I. ‘It had to be done,’ Araic said bitterly. ‘I make no apologies for what I did. The scarheads brought it on themselves when they sacked Orian.’

The alchemist let slip the slightest of giggles; if Araic hadn’t already been used to the man’s demeanour, he would have missed it entirely. ‘Quite. The Violator Gas Bomb was quite something, didn’t you think?’

That was a light way of putting it, yes. The Rancor Bomb obliterated an entire Yuuzhan Vong worldship—what had remained of one, at least. ‘Yes, quite something, my lord. You wouldn’t happen to have another of those sitting around, would you?’

The governor snorted. ‘Unfortunately not, Admiral, no,’ Goura said dryly. ‘The one from my lab on the Miner’s Brother was the only prototype.’ The Sith sighed. ‘There didn’t seem a need once the war had ended.’

And yet, the legacy of the Vong’s twisted bioweapons continued to haunt them. These... Vongspawn, these foul abominations, in a way they were worse than the scarheads themselves. What kind of monster turned the dead, turned loved ones, into weapons? ‘Do you know much of these Ekind?’ Araic asked. ‘I’ve only heard what they told me when I joined. That they were wiped out shortly after the system was colonised.’

The alchemist seemed to darken. ‘Yes—that’s what I was told to believe as well. These Ekind should not be.’

Something even the Sith didn’t know? That didn’t bode well. ‘Not to worry, my lord,’ Araic said, doing his best to sound positive—it was hard, though; he couldn’t stop thinking of Seni. ‘If the Vong couldn’t beat us, we’ll send these nightmares back to whichever one of the Nine Hells they climbed out of.’

This time the alchemist’s laughter echoed throughout the bridge, earning the pair some awkward glances from some of the crew, not least Captain Bahr. He’ll get used to it, thought Araic.

‘Indeed, Admiral. Indeed.’

The starlines reverted back to stars to reveal the blue and green orb of Tarthos.

‘Micro-jump complete, Admiral,’ called Bahr.

Araic looked at the governor who nodded. ‘Then give the order, Captain. All squadrons and dropships are to launch immediately.’

Mucenic
Tarthos

The blue bladed weapon sung through the air as it wove, the arm led down to the owner, Teu Pepoi had a renewed sense of energy about her, occasionally in her run she would limp. The only sign that she had recently broken her leg. She had spent several weeks in a walking brace.

As she came up to Vong Spawn, her lightsaber spun and twirled, knowing the force would be little use now. These were voids in the force she couldn’t even feel them. That annoyed her slightly. Reaching out with her senses she felt her apprentice fighting, father down she felt her husband also fighting. She frowned slightly, distracted, the bladed weapon of the enemy she faced slide through her defenses. She felt the skin break on the side of her abdomen. She synched the wound closed with the Force, it was not deep a mere scratch compared to other wounds she's had in the past. But it brought her out of her own head; the pain fueled the dark side, speeding up her actions for a few moments as she severed the spawn in half.

Around her there were grunts, shouts of joy and pain, Soldiers and Dark Jedi alike worked hard against the enemy. They whooped when one fell, they groaned as they were struck. It was a giant clash, from the air it would have been a beautiful scenes, reds, blues, greens, oranges, purples and many other colors beacons of light as they fought. The thought of this made Teu smile, slightly.

- The Woods
- Mucenic
-Tarthos

The pain was so intense it had a color, and for the ordinarily colorblind Miraluka, that was saying something. Generally only energy produced color in his eyes, mostly blaster fire and lightsaber blades, but this, this was a whole rainbow explosion in his eye sockets.

“There sir, it’s the best I can do,” One of the DSOG Combat Medics said as he finished levering Venator’s hip back into it’s socket. The medic paused to grab his carbine and popped off a couple of shots towards some stray ghouls. Venator winced at the sound of the weapon fire, still very uncomfortable around blasters.

“Keep cautious of those ribs too. I’ve got them bound pretty tight, hope you can do that breathing thing.” He added after checking the charge on his weapon.

“I can.” Venator said plainly as he rose to his feet. It hurt, horribly so. Each breath was it’s own shock of pain through his chest, and his steps weren’t particularly comfortable either. “Don’t work too hard.” He added to the medic as he made his way back towards the thick of the battle.

“Venator,” came across the earbud comm he wore in his ear, and the Miraluka stopped walking.

“I’m here,” He replied as he kept moving.

“You’ve been re-tasked. Get back to the waterfall, you’re going to be linking up with Warlord Macron Sadow. He requested a scout and guide.” Came from one of the civilian volunteers working the battle center inside the temple itself.

“On it.” Venator said and quickly turned on his heel, which elicited another wince. He headed back towards the medic team in the rear, ignored them completely, and hopped on one of their swoop bikes.

He didn’t want to keep the Warlord waiting, and the ride would provide some much needed rest.

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Flagship, Dlarit Special Operations Group
Cenota Orbit, Orian System

"I think we understand each other now," remarked Macron as he watched the holo-display lights that indicated the dropships and fighters leaving the Final Way swarm like lightning bugs on a hot summer night. Slight vibrations could be felt in the hull as the debarkations increased. “I intend to destroy every Vong-spawned lifeform in this entire system. They are an abomination.”

Araic Simonetti looked thoughtful. “Perhaps so, Governor.” The Sith was undoubtedly leading up to some revelation. It was well known the Darksiders enjoyed theatrics.

“It’s my understanding your former lover was spotted with the undead,” said the Governor General with a dead-pan expression. As dead-pan as a tattooed madman could be, anyhow. Curwen Sunei had foreseen undead on Tarthos some years back. It was apparent now that his vision had been true.

Admiral Simonetti flushed very briefly pink and then regained his composure. The man was in total control of himself, worthy of his experience and position but still the Warlord had touched a sore spot. “Yes, that is true. I had heard the report as well. And she was not the only one.”

Macron frowned. As expected, there was no sign of weakness in the Admiral. This was something a Sith could truly respect. “You have mastered your feelings Admiral. We Sith have a reputation of cruelty and callousness. That may be true. However, we also feel passion strongly. More so than any filth-spewing Jedi or scarhead scumbag. Know this. I respect you, and your work. I am glad to see you in command again. And if I can find the Ekind responsible for the disrespect shown your mate, I will make them pay dearly. Their suffering will be legendary.”

The alchemist turned abruptly and strode toward the hangar bay turbolift, leaving Simonetti with a puzzled look on his face. Was that compassion he had just seen? Or was it merely twisted cruelty, an opportunity to crush and torture someone and make him feel honored? It was hard to tell with the Darksiders. Either way, someone was going to pay Hell directly for what had happened to Seni. The thought made him smile grimly as he returned to the tasking of strike groups.

Captain Bahr spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Admiral, the Turmoil and Despot have launched TIE bombers. All 48 are breaking atmosphere and beginning their bombing runs.”

Outside Mucenic

The Ghouls, the Ekind, all melded into one as the Templar pushed deeper into the fray. Slashing, cutting, severing everything in his path. The endless horde kept pouring over the hilltop, as one Ekind stood watching the battle below him.

"Ragnosians! Regroup!" yelled the Ragnosian Quaestor, and within moments a line formed to his left and right. The touch of Teu's presence as well as Dyrra's to far left, fighting their way towards the rest of their Clan mates, was all Fremoc needed to know that the rest of the clan was coming. The Vongspawn kept charging the Ragnosian line, limbs severed and fell to the ground. Bodies piled at their feet.

"NO MERCY!" yelled Fremoc. The rest of Marka Ragnos yelled out a loud roar. Massive waves of Force energy hit the Vongspawn, crippling many. The wave slammed back into the defenders. A hand ripped Fremoc from the line, and threw him deep into the fray. His body was being pelted by fists and objects as he swung his emerald blade around him, cutting through everything that was harming him.

He stood, severing all those around him. His followers behind him, having a hard time trying to get to their Quaestor's position. An Ekind came up from behind him, about to stab its sword into the Templar's back, but Fremoc had sensed it, whipping his DC-15s out and shooting the Ekind trooper in the chest. Another came from the side which Fremoc cut the Vong in half. There was a scream overhead of twin Ion Engines, as TIE Bombers flew overhead dropping their pay loads.

The bombs exploded as they hit the ground, one hitting meters away from Fremoc, the shockwave sending him flying backwards. Unconsciousness took the Templar for the briefest of moments. He heard voices, calling him.

Sarge! Sarge! WE ARE IN COMBAT!

His eyes popped open, grogginess still in his head as he rolled to his feet. His thoughts wondered who was calling him Sarge and who was attacking. Fremoc shook his head as he saw Kano step in front of his former master, followed by Methyas. His mind snapped back into focus as he remembered where he was, and what was going on. Just as he stood to step back into the front of the line, like a proper leader should, his comlink beeped. He recognized the code signature and stepped back far enough, and activated the mini-hologram.

"Fremoc, I'm putting you in charge of all D-SOG, and Military personnel assests that are on Tarthos. Use them to help you push back these Vongspawn," said Macron.

"It will be done, my lord." The newly made Commander of all Military personnel stood back as the landing shuttles began their landing nearby. "This day will be ours."

Outlying Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

The reorganization of the Ragnosians and the timely arrival of their Kresshan allies had proven to be one of the most advantageous surprises to the Sadowan's cause. Fremoc's call had frustrated the already dangerous Methyas as he cut a violent warpath through the Vongspawn that stood before him. The screaming TIEs and incoming dropships would've seen the Aedile's wrath had his mind been consumed by the vendetta in his heart, it was merely the familiar signatures and knowledge that what he could almost equate to a new family was here with him that kept him from completely losing all sensibility and control of his inhibitions.

Helping defend Fremoc as he saw his mentor take the concusive force of a danger-close munition kept the Knight steady for the few moments it took the Quaestor to return to his feet before he threw himself once more into the fire. Anger was all the drove him, his emotions drawing him into situations he would never in his right mind find himself him. With a narrow evasion of a rusty vibrosword, the Miraluka's eyebrows furrowed as he let out a scream and focused the narrow beam of pure malice through the line of Ghouls before him; the signature Force Blast of Naga Sadow carving a clean hole through numerous targets before an angered Ekind handler started to shove his way through the gaggle of bodies.

The Ekind simply watched with disgust as the Miralukan Knight spun about with his Cerulean blade decapitating one of the Vongspawn before grabbing the airborne skull and pulling it towards him, sputtering nonsense about where it's creator was hiding. Grabbing a dagger from his belt the Ekind threw it with impressive aim at the centre of the Jedi's mass. With a quick spiral and a methodical hum of his blade, Methyas cleaved the small metalic blade from the air before turning his attention to a target he could see clearly. No whisps, no faint auras, no nonsense; this thing was sentient and not one of his own, and for that it would suffer. It would know pain for siding with the Vong for leading this filth to his doorstep, and for this transgression it would tell him where on this karking planet the vile, filthy Vong was hiding before it could have peace.

Turning off his sabre with a smirk crossing his face, the Knight simply motioned for the Ekind to make the first move. With a quick wave of his hand, the handler created a space for the two to fight; a makeshift arena formed from a tight ring of Vongspawn and Ekind. The handler made the first move as the steady Knight had wanted, anger surging through him as he sought to slay the monster that had slain his people. With a swift jab the Ekind's fist sought a home in the Knight's gut, only to find he wasn't there but a foot or so away. Another series of quick thrusts and jabs met similar results with the occassional block or parry from the Knight. A smile crossed the Ekind's face as he realized his adversary had no formal combat training besides the sword; a quick feint to the left before a swift, hard jab to the right was buried in the Knight's gut. It had given him an opening he was inclined to take, a quick sequence of blows at various key points of the Miraluka's body would help end this fight quickly. With an almost abrupt roll and swift jerk of his elbow backwards, the Ekind's strike hit home in the Knight's spine with his smile growing as he heard the man begin to fall to his knees.

As the handler rose to his feet he heard a deep chuckling from behind him, a chuckling that slowly rose into an almost hysterical and maniacal laughter that chilled him to the bone. He turned slowly to see the Knight rising to his feet steadily, the Jedi's voice low and sombre, "Is that all you've got?"
Shock and awe were the only expressions that could come to the handler's face as the smile that steadily grew across Methyas' face brough terror to his heart, "My turn."
Quickly the Knight seemed to disappear and reappear right before him, his fist deeply in the handler's gut before the man stumbled backwards for a moment. The gap didn't remain closed as his heels dug into the dirt but his body closed with the Knight again and a swift uppercut landed squarely on his jaw. The strength of the impact sent him reeling, it was more than the man could muster before but it was inhuman for the size of the man. He suddenly felt weightless, like his feet weren't touching the ground, but it wasn't until the stars left his eyes did he realize it was because they weren't. The air about him and within the entire "arena" seemed to grow heavier as the Miraluka's eyebrows furrowed again and the handler started gasping for air, a growl escaping Methyas, "Where...is...the...Vong?"

The Ekind gasped, the air pressure was stiffling, it was like the harsh summer days outside of these Jedi's safe cities and towns; when the heat itself was like a constant wall of tyranny that sought to steal every last ounce of air from within his chest. This silence simply angered Methyas further, with the fact he had yet to receive a response his focus on the levitating Ekind grew and the pressure of his leaking Force signature responded in turn, "WHERE IS THE VONG?!"
A cough escaped the handler as he sputtered out anything that could come to mind, "Y...y....your c...cities...w...will burn...ah...and it...it will...it will be...ma...my honour...to...to die....f...for Alabrek."
His patience drawn thin and the encroachment of the other Ekind and Ghouls growing bolder frustrating him, Methyas tossed the handler to the ground fiercely resulting in an audible crunch, splat and scream as blood and various organs from his lower body sought release from the tearing flesh and bone that was once their master.
With another snap-hiss the Cerulean blade sprung to life eagerly as the Knight held his blade to his side, a lone word crossing his mind repeatedly, "Alabrek."
Slightly shifting his stance into a telltale form of Soresu, Methyas motioned for action with his free hand as a gutteral command escaped him, "Come."

Mucenic
Tarthos


Mutated beings surrounded Kano as he fought a large Vongspawn bare fisted. The creature brought the butt of its blaster up and into the masked Mandalorian’s chest plate. The hit just hardly registered in Kano’s mind as he grabbed the Vongspawn by the growth on his head. The Templar pulled hard and swung the creature around, causing it to smash into a mutated zombie and knock it to the ground. The force of the Vongspawn going one direction and Kano jerking another caused the growth to begin to rip from the head it was imbedded in. A red mist showered the area as the growth severed all connections and the body, half decapitated, fell to the ground.

Several meters away there was an explosion. The bombings had begun. The Mandalorians only thought was that it was too soon. His saber had not had its fill of flesh or carnage for the day. Kano ripped the hilt from his belt and focused everything onto the lightsaber as it began humming in his grasp.

Soaked with the blood of Vongspawn, mutants, and zombies Kano pushed further into the crowd. His sapphire blade creating a brilliant sight to behold as it created a grotesque display of chaos. Limbs were sent one way while heads rolled the other. Bodies were sliced in two and fell to the ground, still inching towards the masked Mandalorian. He didn’t care. As they would close in he would send his blade through the center of their heads, effectively ending their forward progression.

After several minutes of being lost in the pure ecstasy of slaughter Kano glanced around. All he saw was the enemy. The large man stood over most of the attackers yet he was still unable to see where his comrades were. A quick and morbid thought crossed his mind, ‘They are gone.’ He shook off the thought and called into his radio.

“Is anyone still out there? I repeat. Is there anyone still alive?”

Kano listened for an incoming message while fighting off another mutated humanoid. As the Templar’s saber dug deep into the mutant and was ripped strait up an attacker from behind slammed the butt of a blaster into the side of his head. The hit shattered the ear bud resting in Kano’s ear and dazed him for an instant. A panic came over the Mandalorian as he realized he was deep in enemy territory and he had lost all communications. The panic fueled every muscle in the Templar’s body as he began hacking and slashing his way through the attackers, he didn’t know which direction he was heading but the satisfaction of the warm blood hitting the flesh of his arms and neck began to calm the masked Mandalorian.

Sector Five
Refuge

“So why are we here Sir?” Senth asked once they were walking down the Sector Five promenade.
“We’re here on an investigation,” Malisane replied.
“This seems an odd time if you don’t mine me saying Sir,” Senth replied, “with the attack on Tarthos.”
“This takes priority,” the Battlelord replied, “one equite won’t make much difference there. It will here.”
“I wasn’t aware of a problem Sir,” the Captain said curiously.
Malisane lowered his voice. “Someone or something is messing with our Clan Senth,” he replied, “they have been for a while. Two days ago I attended an autopsy of the human known as Kelvert and the trandoshan known as Carolides. They had very unique cybernetic and chemical enhancements, to a level we’ve only seen once before.”
“When?”
“Here,” Malisane replied simply. “A year ago, the gang that attempted to infiltrate Kar Alabrek with narcotics.”
Senth knew about it from reports. The Underworld members had been purged in a series of back alley encounters with Sadow members, and the laboratory had been destroyed. ”Simular technology then?”
“Identical,” the Rollmaster replied, “according to the Consul and the technical staff they may as well have come off the same production line.”
“Could be a random mercenary group,” Senth suggested.
“With that level of technology?” Malisane asked derisively, “no chance. Someone with a lot of money and a lot of scientific knowledge has taken an interest in our Clan. We want to know who they are and why.”
“Ah.”
Malisane smiled grimly. “Then we make them loose interest. One way or another.”

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Flagship, Dlarit Special Operations Group
Hangar Bay, Slip B-12

Tsainetomo stood in silence, observing the happenings with a sort of detached aplomb as his shuttle idled behind him, the pilots dutifully going through the pre-flight checks. He watched as the mundanes hustled, and the Force users, for lack of a better term…

…stalked. He gave a start as he realized that every Dark Jedi that he laid his eyes on walked with the same sense of – not urgency – but aggression. It was as if they all were projecting their ill will twenty feet before them.

Wasteful, he silently lamented.

By contrast, Tsainetomo, due to his training and fighting disciplines, simply…moved. One moment he was one place, and in the next, another. An economy of motion, a simplicity of action. Where the others stored all the energy to remain in a state of perpetual scowl was beyond his ken.

His mood brightened, but only slightly so, by the appearance of the once and future Consul, Macron. The alchemist was one of the few beings in the whole of Antei that he called friend. He gripped the madman’s forearm in a soldier’s clutch.

“Mononoke,” the Epis offered.

“Sai,”, came the response.

“Listen, I know things have been pretty hectic as of late, but I think it’s important that we have this chat.”

Macron stood looking into the tripartite gaze that, in actuality, he himself helped create. Though his battle-cocktail had mutated Sai, there was a disturbing light that shone within them now that he hadn’t seen before…

It was the light of sadness. “What troubles you, old friend?”

Sai gathered his thoughts before speaking, as he always did. When he did, it came out simply, veil-less and straightforward. “You have been gone a long time, Mac. Many things have happened to our Clan in your absence, things that I have been present for at every turn. The bottom line is that I’ve grown weary. I shall back you, Lord Consul, and at every turn, but only if you can assure me right here and now that there will not be a repeat of the unpleasantness that involved Remulus. I do not have the strength to allow something like that to happen again. It comes to that.”

Macron extended a single arm, servos in alchemically treated battle-armor whining. Normally, the Armored Fist at the end of said arm would clamp around Macron’s intended target and crush it beyond recognition.

This time, it merely grasped Sai’s shoulder with as much warmth as a mad, drug-addled Sith could muster. “You are free of that burden, Tsainetomo. I shall shoulder it with you.”

The exchange was as close to an accord that any two high-powered Dark Jedi could come to, given the circumstances. Sai allowed his frame to relax, the tension literally seeping from his pores. “Good! Then it’s settled. I leave the current crisis in your capable hands.”

Alarm poured off of the Alchemist for the briefest of moments. “Vongspawn are threatening to overrun our holdings and you, you’re…resigning? Now?!”

Macron’s response elicited a chuckled from the Korun-Keibatsu. “No, no; far from it. I’ve been summoned to Antei; conscripted for service to the Shadow Academy for a spell. No worries; I shall return, hale and hearty.”

Had it been anyone else, Macron would’ve doubted the veracity of the Proconsul’s boast; as it was Sai, he silently wept for those at whom his fellow Son would be pointed.

Tsainetomo made his way up the gangway of the shuttle, sparing a final glance at his comrade. “Take care of them, Mac; they’re good kids, and they need you, now more than ever.”

Macron watched as the shuttle’s ramp closed and the craft floated whisper quiet into the ether. “I give you my word, my friend,” was his hushed response. He’d been there when Tsainetomo first came to the Clan, full of idealistic energy. Now, a much older and jaded Sai had left him, and he wondered just what in the Nine Hells had happened to dull his friend’s luster.

Near Mucenic
Tarthos

“…anyone still out-“

During a moment of reprieve, Locke fiddled with his headset. It had slid off his ear during the battle, and the mouth piece was out of place. Quickly, he pushed it back up to his mouth and listened intently.

“…anyone still alive?”

Locke looked around. Far to his right and on ahead, the rest of the Kresshians were cutting deep into the massed forces of Vongspawn. He reached out with the Force, being careful not to alert anyone and throw them off guard, sensing the Ragnosians further into the throng of zombie-like creatures and Ekind taskmasters. He sensed tense, focused minds. They were busy.

He was not. “This is Locke, I copy.”

Silence. There was nothing. Locke sensed something, but he had no idea who it was by the sound of their voice. After a few more precious seconds, no reply came. They’d better not be dead.

Then he saw it, far off, slightly over the crowd: a blue lightsaber. It cut through zombie after zombie, and was alone. For a brief moment, as its owner leapt and stabbed his lightsaber down on something, Locke caught sight of a unique looking mask. He had never seen it before, but it seemed Mandalorian. There were a lot of Mandalorians among the Ragnosians, or at least those that wore that armor, but not that mask. Locke focused his senses on that presence. It was one he had last felt at the resort, before beginning the final assault on Deliverance…

Could it be?

Locke charged forward. Running with the large rifle was hard. He considered dropping it, but realized he would need its firepower. Instead of discarding the weapon, Locke drew on the Force for strength.

Briefly, the Jedi Hunter wondered if this was a dumb idea. Using the Force as he was, Locke was rapidly becoming tired. He dismissed that thought. He was trying to aid an ally in the heat of battle; even if he decreased his own chances of survival, it was worth it. Quietly, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. You’re Krath, and a Dark Jedi. You should look out for yourself. Locke simply shoved the voice back down, ignoring it. He was a soldier. He had tried to save the Republic. He had fought for other people. Dark Jedi or not, Krath or not, that was still who he was.

He was surrounded by the Vongspawn now. They were on all sides, snarling, advancing, some grinning. This was kriffin’ stupid Locke. Just kriffin’ stupid! As if to dispel his misgivings, Locke growled loudly, and charged forward, slowly advancing, the repeater firing away. At least the enemies in front of him were dying. The ones on every other side, however, continued to close in.

Then, suddenly, a lightsaber cleaved three zombies in half to Locke’s left. He sighed, instinctively turning away from it and backing toward it. A moment later, he felt his back bump armor. “Kano.”

“Yes.” Thank the Force.

“Great.” It didn’t take conversation. They were surrounded. There was only one thing to do now. As Locke fired in half-arcs into the swarm of Vongspawn ahead of him, he sensed Kano move behind him. No doubt, the Templar was cutting down just as many, if not more than Locke was, but they just kept coming. After a few moments, Locke broke the chorus of death with a shout. “Ideas?”

“Your rescue.” The reply was cold, focused.

Locke gulped. Great plan, genius.“The others are the direction I’m firing.”

“Let’s go then.” With that, Kano sprang up and over Locke, landing to his left and cutting a swath through the Vongspawn there. Locke moved forward, firing, but then realized he was too slow. Using the Force, he crimped the barrels of the rifle and tossed it into a nearby horde of zombies, knocking three of them down and into others. “Blasted thing outlived its usefulness anyway, “ he muttered.

Now Locke readied his carbine with the speed of a soldier, but the finesse just wasn’t there. He was too tired. The Jedi Hunter steadied the weapon and fired a short burst. A zombie fell. Another advance toward Locke, but Kano was there, cutting it in half. So they advanced, blue blade chopping and slashing, carbine whining as it fired short bursts, and zombies howling.

With each shot, Locke felt his tiredness creep up on him. With each shot, Locke’s aim got a little worse. He wasn’t about to ask the Mandalorian if he could stop for a break. I hope we find the others soon though.

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Flagship, Dlarit Special Operations Group
Hangar Bay, Slip B-12



Macron watched Tsainetomo's shuttle depart from the bay. The ion trails reflected briefly in his yellow eyes.
"May you slay your enemies," whispered the alchemist. "May the Force be with you." The madman turned towards his own waiting shuttle. The lambda-class vessel waited, entry hatch open. A familiar face awaited him by the entryway.

"Major Qek."

"My lord," replied the DAC advanced clone. "It has been some time."

"It has. Good to see you," replied the Consul with a chuckle. "Is Aisha onboard?"

"She is. And you have a visitor requesting to travel with you."

"Who is....." Macron was cut short by a familiar pointy-toothed face peering around the landing gear.

"Of course," giggled the Consul. "Jade, it's a pleasure as always m'lady."

"Can the suave act," smiled the Krath. "Are we going to go give these bastards hell or what? I'm wondering what Ekind blood tastes like."

"Rather spicy I imagine," smiled the Sith. "You'll have to let me know. My own gustatory needs are rather simple I'm afraid." The three Sadowans entered the shuttle, finding the red-skinned Zeltron Sith woman already sitting in one of the cockpit seats.

"Drop your socks and grab your... hehehe." The woman winked at the clone, who frowned. "Let's get this party started. Venator is eyes on the ground as requested and will rendezvous with us shortly after we land. He's rather cute for a Miraluka," smiled the Sith Warrior.

"Aisha, you'll have to curb your normal lusty behavior with this one. I have researched him and may take him as an apprentice so no wrecking the goods," remarked Macron dryly.

Jade and Aisha looked at each other, a knowing glance passing between the two women. Both had been Macron's apprentices and knew exactly what was in store for Venator. "Gods help him then," smirked Jade as she sat down in a gunner's seat. "He'll need all the help he can get."

Major Qek began the launch sequence, donning helmet to finish out his flight suit. "Launching in two," he remarked calmly. "We'll be on-site in ten minutes. It's a hot landing zone, so be prepared."

Republic-class Star Destroyer Final Way
Flagship, Dlarit Special Operations Group
Hangar Bay, Slip B-12

Jades fangs itched, it was going to be a most promising battle, and doing so at her former masters side, accompanied by his apprentices past and possibly present was going to be fun. Though she had to admit it was going to be interesting to see if the new apprentice would survive or wind up with an extra arm or some other unknown bodily function. knowing Macron it could be a painful process to find the update that he had in mind.

She smirked at Aisha, as she went over a quick systems check and familiarization of the controls, it was going to be an interesting trip indeed.

Mucenic

“I want that mobile command center set up here,” ordered the Templar. The DSOG troopers with a mobile command unit on a hovercraft, moved to Fremoc’s position, and quickly the unit’s systems where up and running. The spot was just inside the Mucenic walls, but also allowed Fremoc to look up at the battle that was going on over the wall.In fluid motion Fremoc was in front of the holographic tactical display. Immediately DSOG personnel were maintaining communications with various units as well as unit commanders surrounding the display in the middle of the command unit. “Set up a perimeter around the command center here, make sure each man is an expert marksmen to watch for snipers.”

“Yes, sir,” said a DSOG soldier.

The tactical display showed every person, artillery piece, and the occasional air strike from TIE Bombers in full three dimensions. Currently, the DSOG forces, as well as the members from Ludo Kressh and Marka Ragnos were spread out. Pepoi recognized the two figures in the middle of the fray, fighting their way back to ally lines. Kano and Locke, were pushing their way, cutting through every Vongspawn and Ekind, as they ran back into allied territory.

Kano’s presence marched from the lines along with Teu, Fremoc had a feeling deep in his stomach about what they were about to tell him. Teu leapt into her husband’s arms as the two Templars joined the Commander watching the tactical display. The husband and wife shared a quick kiss before Teu pulled away, “Fremfrem, we have been called to Antei along with Sai.”

“Alright. Kano, make sure my wife is safe.”

“Yes master.” The two Templars left the command unit and headed for a shuttle that was waiting for them.

The tactical display showed the enemy pushing straight for the center of Mucenic, while units where stopping the attack, it wasn’t allowing the forces of Clan Naga Sadow to push them back.

“Alright, I want all Dark Jedi pushing up that hill but to stay in one line. I don’t want any hot shots going off and diving straight into this mess. DSOG will provide flanking cover on the left and right, as well as behind. Those behind the Dark Jedi are on clean up, finding anything that moves and killing it. I want that hill taken by nightfall.” The comm. Operators began issuing the Quaestor’s orders to their units, relaying all that was needed.

This is a natural slug fest. The person with the better weapons and more numbers, will be the victor.

“Do we have another air strike coming?” questioned Fremoc.

“No, sir, not for another 40 minutes,” said a nearby Sergeant from the Air Wing on the Final Way.

Damn… I could use an airstrike to push those karking ghouls back…

“Do we have any artillery in place?”

“Only one so far sir,” said a Sergeant associated with the artillery section.

“I want that artillery piece bombarding that hill, anything that moves over top of it, fire.”

“Yes, my lord.” The artillery Sergeant went about issuing the orders, and almost immediately the artillery fired upon the hill. Fremoc watched as figure that had been standing at the top, moved off the far side of the hill, into an area where he couldn’t see.

Yes, these bastards will be driven off from this place…

The Templar looked at the tactical display and watched a shuttle land off in the distance away from the battle. He reached out and felt the presence of Macron and his two apprentices. He looked at those in the command unit, “Look sharp, Lord Consul is on the ground.”

Mucenic

The Dark Jedi lined up to take the hill as ordered by Fremoc. Roxas ran to join the line determined to prove himself as a Mandalorian. His dull black armor stood out shinning in the sun as he joined the group preparing to take the hill. The group ready charged the hill with everything they had. Cutting, slicing, blasting, punching, and kicking the Sadowans pushed their way up the hill forcing the Vongspawn line further and further back. The Sadowans were determined to slaughter every last one of them. More and more Ekind began joining in the battle, strengthening the enemy line. The Ekind numbers added to the Vongspawn began pushing the Dark Jedi back down the hill.

Seeing that they were losing ground, Roxas shouted words of encouragement, “They wish to take our lives, our homes, and our families! I have something the can take…my blaster bolts! So lets give them hell!”

The words giving courage to his allies helped them spur on, pushing the Vongspawn and Ekind back toward the top of the hill. They group made it two thirds of the way up the hill, when the artillery finally began firing, shelling the top of the hill. The Dark Jedi realized that they must have been attempting to take the hill for hours, seeing as how now the artillery was up and running.

A soldier screamed out “This is useless, we are not getting any where! We should give up!”

This angered some of the Dark Jedi, but none were as angry as Araxis, who put things strait.

“Shut up, you coward! If you want to lay down and die then do it, but the rest of us have to teach a lesson to these Vongspawn and Ekind for thinking they can take us on! Now the rest of you lets show these fools who’s boss! For Naga Sadow!”

The soldier more scared of Araxis than the enemies went silent and continued to fight, without any further outbursts. The Sadowans kept pushing, Araxis’s outburst seemed to have further encouraged the Dark Jedi. They gained more and more ground, trying to reach their goal by nightfall.

The push was excelling quicker then most expected. The constant moral boosts provided from key individuals at the proper times was really paying off. All of the nasty enemies ahead started to pull back gradually, knowing that staying was certain death, however the Dark Jedi were not here for simple victory, it was all or nothing. However, the soldiers fighting along side the Dark Jedi started to falter, it wasn't the same for them, their minds worked differently... breakable in a sense.

“This is useless, we are not getting any where! We should give up!” let loose one soldier, clearly on the breaking point.

“Shut up, you coward! Lay down and die if you must, but we will continue to push these abominations back and take the hill as we've been ordered to do. In the process, pray that these Vongspawn and Ekind learn that they tango with the most fearsome of all the Dark Jedi Brotherhood, that coming here was more then a mistake!" Araxis responded with pure anger towards the Soldier, "Immortality is ours! We must take it! Onward for the glory of Naga Sadow my fellow Dark Jedi!"

A rallying roar of the collective power, including those soldiers on the breaking point, sent a deepening chill to the very core of the Vongspawn and Ekind. It was unlike anying the broken soldier had seen. Araxis extended his arm to assist the soldier back to his feet, "Now Fight, or except the embrace of your death Soldier!"

Dusk was quickly approaching, and ground was being taken back at an alarming rate. There was always more of the enemy to take down, kill counts were soaring, moral was never higher. Not one person broke rank, several had probably thought about it though, Araxis included. "I just need to wait for the right moment, it'll probably hurt like hell, but it must be done" he thought to himself.

Outlying Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

Reforming the line at the behest of the new Field Commander was absolutely the last thing Methyas had wanted to do when they were under seige, but as Aedile he had to be the good leader and perform as ordered. His blood boiled for revenge as the hordes of Vongspawn and their warmasters continued their march upon the line of ready Dark Jedi. With sabers ready the group moved forward, blasters and sabers humming and whizzing through the air as their masters sought to thin the lines of murderous intent drawing closer to them and the sanctuary of Mucenic. The orders for danger-close barrages and bombing runs barking through the Aedile's communicator from the Quaestor back at the forward command.

With a quick downward slash with saber before a vicious blast foward with the Force, the Aedile had created an opening, he looked at one of the Dark Jedi beside him and spoke curtly, "Do not let them through."
He could feel the younger man's fear but knew he wouldn't dare break formation, unlike what the Aedile was about to do.
"Alabrek." The lone word still lingered in the Aedile's mind, he needed answers, he needed to find this wretched Vong that had started it all and make him pay for sending this horde of monstrositities to harm his family...it would not happen again.
With a sudden burst of speed the Knight was gone, throwing himself into the center of the horde to find another warmaster he could squeeze information from.

Forward Command, Mucenic
Tarthos
"What the...." Fremoc glanced out from his lofty command deck to the hillside, scooping up a pair of viewfinders from the nearest trooper to see if the shift he had felt was correct, "Son of a..."
Slamming the viewfinders back into the trooper's chest, Fremoc opened a channel with the offender swiftly before screaming into his microphone.

Outlying Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos
"Methyas! What the hell do you think you're doing?! Get back in formation on the double!" The voice screamed in the Miraluka's ear as he carved and blasted his way through the crowd seeking the Ekind that pushed and shoved his way deeper into the horde to escape the wrath of the Knight. Quickly switching off his radio as he stormed forward, a deep growl escaped the young man as fear eminated from the Ekind mere feet before him, "Where ever you hide, I will see you and I will drag you kicking and screaming from that hole you call a hiding spot."
With a swift slash decapitating the Ghoul before him the Ekind lunged out from behind it, striking the Miraluka square in the chest and making him stumble into the arms of a waiting Ghoul, a creature he could only vaguely feel restraining him forcefully as his saber waved about aimlessly above his head. With an attempt at a terrifying laugh, the Ekind rose quickly with a knife in hand as he moved closer to the restrained Miraluka, "Not so tough now, are you Jedi?"
With an almost feral snarl escaping Methyas, the Ekind closed the remaining distance with his Knife ready to bury itself in the Knight's gut. A flicker, a simple glimmer catching the Knight's attention as the grip of the Ghoul behind him loosened and the sound of a saber's thirsty hum tore through it's flesh before moving on to the surround enemies. Dropping his saber and leaping at his assailant, the Knight moved with frighteningly fast reflexes, disarming his shocked opponent in a single fluid movement before pinning him to the ground with the knife in an inverted grip across his throat.

"Hey Methyas! I think my Master's going to have a few words with us when we're done here. Now hurry up!" Araxis chimed in jokingly as he carved a path around the two Dark Jedi carefully with his saber. The Knight curtly nodded as he leaned into his pinned opponent, "Who is Alabrek? Where's the Vong?!"
The Ekind trembled in fear beneath the Knight as he was completely unable to move, a lump forming in his throat as he squeeked out a word, "Leader..."
With a grumble the Miraluka quick moved his knife-weilding hand and laid a quick jab across the Ekind's head before slamming the blade into it's left shoulder, a shrill screech of pain escaping the creature before Methyas spoke again, "Alabrek is your leader? Where's the Vong?!"
Methyas could clearly feel the pain, the fear, the suffering from the Ekind as another lump grew in it's throat and it gasped for air; weak cries escaping the creature as it knew death came on swift wings for it. This was taking too long, with a quick grasp from his thigh Methyas grabbed his combat knife before carving a clean line up the Ekind's side and slamming the blade into the dirt beside it's head, "Speak!!"

Nearly wetting himself, the Ekind spoke through the tears streaming down his face, "Yes! By all that is sacred yes! The Vong is with him! Please! Have mercy!"
With a sudden start, Methyas tore his knife from the ground and slammed it into the Ekind's chest just above his rapidly beating heart; a terrifying scream of pain and agony escaping the creature as his lung now bore a knife right through it and Methyas rose to his feet, summoning his saber to his hand calmly as he placed a foot on the sapient's gut to keep him pinned. The next words to leave the Knight's mouth flung like daggers, the obvious venom in them coming from deep inside, "Mercy? Did you have mercy when you let that wretched creature do this?" He paused as he waved at the Vongspawn all around him, "Did you have mercy when you loosed them on us? Did you have mercy when you were ready to kill me mere seconds ago?" Pausing as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyeless sockets focused on the Ekind's terrified face, "Do you think that monster had any mercy as it slaughter thousands in the name of its gods?!"
With a sudden snap-hiss and quick flash of the cerulean blade the Ekind was slain, it's head rolling towards the feet of the nearby Ghouls as Methyas quickly called the two blades to his free hand. The line of Dark Jedi had closed on the two, it was nearing the top of the hill now and the number of enemies were thinning greatly; a hand rested on the Knight's shoulder as he felt the presence of allies upon him, Araxis speaking quickly, "We have this, fear not my friend."

It wasn't long after that a group of DSOG troopers stood behind the Knight, a sombre voice rising up, "Sir? I'm sorry, but the Field Commander has requested your presence at Forward Command."
A curt nod came from Methyas before he disengaged his saber and handed it to the waiting officer along with the two blades, "I understand."
The slow walk back to Mucenic started from there as the remainder of the Dark Jedi of Naga Sadow and Dlarit troopers challenged the remaining enemies atop the hill overlooking Mucenic.

- The Woods
- Mucenic
- Tarthos
- Now

“Lord Consul is on the ground,” Venator confirmed as Macron Sadow and his two escorts disembarked the shuttle. Each of them were bright lights in the Force, totally detailed and very easy to see, and it was easy to see they were in a definite mood to murder.

“Lord Consul,” Venator said as the shuttle took off. “I’m Obelisk Protector Venator, I’m your scout and guide. We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.”

“Very good,” Macron said. “Tell me about these Ekind. I understand they’ve some surprises they’ve brought to bear.”

“Yes Lord Consul,” Venator answered. Out of his peripheral he could see one of the females eyeing him, and if it was possible, she seemed more predatory then even the Miralukan did. “They’re curiously powerful in the Force.”

“Curiously powerful?” The other female said. “Explain.”

“Yes ma’am.” Venator replied as he gathered his meager amount of gear. “I engaged one of the Ekind. She was able to toss me about like a feather in a windstorm, but she couldn’t detect or purge a fairly uncomplicated toxin before it killed her.”

“Curious indeed,” Macron said. “Continue your update. Jades will tend your wounds.”

“Yes Lord Consul,” Venator said as the very predatory woman gripped his upper bicep with a strength that was surprising from her frame. “The attack began several hours ago, basically Vongspawn just onrushing in waves. The occasional Ekind with their own tricks, but again, generally they’re just one or two trick Banthas. Once you know what they can do, it’s easy to take them with methods they have no preparation to handle.”

The Force channeled through Jades pushed into and through Venator’s body, alternatively rippling and pushing out. He’d healed some of his own injuries, but this was unreal, the sheer power coursing through him. The scariest part though, was this woman deferred to the Warlord. He certainly didn’t want on the alchemist’s bad side.

“You’re a Miraluka, is that correct?” Macron asked of the hunter.

“Yes Lord Consul,” Venator replied, and realized he still had the other ocular implant resting in his socket. He reached up and plucked the cosmetic out and placed it in one of his cargo pouches at his belt. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the other woman made a face.

“What Force training do you have?” He asked, continuing his casual interrogation.

“I have a basic Protector’s level of training through the Brotherhood, and I’ve had some training through my grandfather’s Force Spirit. He was a Jedi Knight in the clone wars.” Venator said plainly.

“Very well.” Macron said while the remainder of the broken ribs in Venator’s chest reset themselves and knitted back. “Let’s move. I’ve no wish to be out… here… any more than I have to be.”

“We have two routes to take Lord Consul. One will take longer but we’ll dodge the worst of the combat. The other will take us through the thick of things, but we’ll be able to shave almost a full klick off of the trip.”

“We’ll be taking the direct route Protector.” Macron said as he squished a bug under his boot. “Let’s be away.”

“As you wish,” Venator said and turned to direct them.

The trip itself went quickly. None of the people following him were slouches, but the Consul was certainly not enjoying himself. He muttered curses constantly and had a habit of crushing errant wildlife with the Force if it came too close to him. It was horrifically wasteful, but there was little the hunter could say about it.

“Weren’t you a bounty hunter?” the woman who’d later introduced herself as Aisha asked as they picked their way through a dried out oxbow that ran next to the river near Mucenic.

“Yeah, more of an assassin really. I only collected two live bounties. Olhel rarely fooled with prisoners. Didn’t feel like spending the money to hold them.” Venator replied as he pushed his senses out. The battle was getting a lot closer as they moved, and the mass of Vongspawn was just pushing out. Their path carried them perpendicular to the push of the Vongspawn, but they’d eventually have to cut to their right and getting moving and cutting.

“How’d you do with the Vong war?” She asked as they drew ever closer.

“Me? I kept out of the way. We flitted from one safe world to another. It was a horrible way to see the galaxy, but it was better than trying to fight an enemy I can’t see.” Venator said as he leapt into a tree overhanging a bluff. He scampered out and leaned off the longest branch that would support his weight.

“Reminds me of a Kowakian Monkey Lizard,” Aisha said quietly to Jades.

“Better trained though.” Jades replied.

Macron leveled a glare at them and ended their conversation quickly. “How much longer?” He asked.

Venator swung himself around and leapt down from the tree with a casual grace and near supernatural silence.

“Just a few minutes longer. If you can scree run then we’ll be right on top of them.” Venator said and looked down at the mass of the ghouls just marching towards the Mucenic temple. To punctuate the point, he removed his armory lightsaber from his belt and stood at the edge of the bluff. Below him was a loose rock and gravel hill, and he seemed hell bent on sliding down it.

“We’ll follow your lead.” Macron said as he and his escorts joined Venator on the edge. With a nod the Miralukan hunter stepped off the edge and began a controlled slide/fall towards the Vongspawn.

“So that’s how that’s done,” Macron said and gestured towards his escorts. “Go.”

And so, they went. The trip down was bracing, to say the least. It was a barely controlled slide down, about halfway between on their behinds and on their feet. At the bottom of the trip Venator tucked into a roll to slow his momentum and came up, blue lightsaber ignited and swinging. He’d not had any formal training with actual use of the weapon, and the gyroscopic effect was hard to control, but there wasn’t anything in the way of what one would call a capable duelist among the Vongspawn ghouls. His swings were wide and probably carried way more power than necessary, but it was a mass of enemy that he had to spearhead through. \\

Behind him, the Lord Consul and his escorts made their own landing, and with their own lightsabers lit, they too began cutting through the mob. Their work was much cleaner, but it was to be expected from them. They moved in the wide swath Venator was cutting, oftentimes killing the foes that their guide was injuring as he pushed to lead them on.

The trip was fast, violent, and ended covered in sweat and stinking of killing and saber burnt flesh. As they came to the gates of Mucenic, a group of DSOG operators opened them up and took covering positions, lighting up more of the Vongspawn horde with repeating blasters.

“Lord Consul,” Fremoc said as the group approached. He offered a curt bow, befitting the tension of the situation.

“Fremoc. The Miraluka has given me a short briefing. Fill me in on the rest.” Macron said as he eyed the command center setup.

“Yes Lord Consul,” Fremoc said. “Venator, rejoin the Night Hawks.”

“One moment Fremoc. I’m keeping him as my personal guide.” Macron said, eyeing the hunter and assassin. It was more than a little creepy, especially since Venator could get a better look at Macron’s face, what with him having removed his helmet.

“As you wish,” Fremoc said, and led Macron towards the operational screens.

Sepros System
Shuttle Inbound

It had been a while since the passenger of the shuttle had been in this system. His home of sorts, his brothers and sisters, and where the disciples gathered. His time away had been spent tending to his adopted family, but now he had returned to his other family.

\\Unidentified shuttle. This system is currently on lockdown, identify yourself or you will be destroyed!\\

“Charming.” The cloaked figure replied as he nudged the pilot to keep going. “Open a channel.” He waited a moment until the pilot nodded and then said, “Sepros Control. Request authorisation clearance Alpha-4782-Omega-CNS.”

\\Standby shuttle.\\

There was nothing but static on the other end for a while which caused the travelling occupant frown to knit as his mind opened up to the Force. He wondered what the reaction was going to be and then the voice on the other side of replied.

\\Authorisation confirmed, Marshal Commander. Please route to Tarthos. We have a condition red.\\

“Well, that’s hardly surprising.” The Marshal Commander said.

\\Sorry?\\

“Nothing! Who is the current Governor General?” He asked quickly and then told the pilot where to go.

\\That would be Macron Goura, sir.\\

Macron is Consul. Well, well, well this should be interesting! A mad grin spread across his face as he reached inside his cloak to clasp hold of his lightlsaber.

“Inform the Governor General that Ashura Isradia is coming in hot and ready to assist on defence of the Sepros system. I need information on what’s happening down there, and I needed five minutes ago.” Ashura said loudly.

\\Understood.\\

“Well, I have to say this is bloody typical of a homecoming. I come back to find blood is being spilled and still way up here,” the Sith then turned to the pilot and shouted, “can’t you get this karking thing to go any faster... I’m missing all the fun!”

---

OOC: Hello, you all know the old saying. "Better late than never." It's short as I just wanted to ease my character into the plot. I got the basic plot summary off Fremoc, although there is an advantage of not knowing what's going on.

Mucenic

“As you can tell this is our line here. Artillery is shelling the hilltop and bombers do the same, virtually stopping them in their tracks. My guess is that their leader is retreating back to whatever hole they dug out of,” Fremoc said as he briefed Macron of the situation. Venator, Jade, and Aisha stayed slightly distant from the two leaders.

“Very good, Fremoc,” giggled the mad Alchemist. “I knew I was right in choosing you as the proper leader for this operation. Continue to defend your world, Commander.”

Commander…“Yes my lord. I encourage you to go to the front lines and help spearhead the push.”

“Indeed, a proper leader always leads the charge.” Venator turned to leave with Macron leading the other two Dark Jedi.

“Venator, I need you to stay here.”

The group turned, Macron looking at Fremoc, “I just said he’s serving as guide.”

“I understand that Lord Consul but I just got a message from intelligence that I need Venator and the Night Hawks to take care of.”

“Very well, Venator,” Macron giggled “should you return I have much that you could help me with.”

Venator stayed to the rear of the command unit, staying out of everyone’s way. It wasn’t long until several DSOG troopers came in escorting the Aedile of Marka Ragnos, weaponless.

“What the frak got into you disobeying a direct order?” yelled Fremoc.

“I was finding out information,” answered Methyas. Fremoc’s Force presence burned brighter than any sun.

“And what information did you find?”

“That the Vong are with Alabrek.”

“Alabrek… They are at Kar Alabrek?”

“Alabrek is a person.”

“Where are they?” grumbled the angered Templar.

“I have no idea. Probably at Kar Alabrek or Markosian City.”

“Well, I’m keeping you off the line and holding your lightsaber until I deem fit,” Araxis walked into the command unit and his lightsaber was handed to Fremoc as well. “Your off the line as well.”

The Templar began to look at his holograph of the battle that was going on and moved the positioning of it so that it was past the hill. There…

Sarconn entered the command unit and looked at Venator who was in the corner, as well as the Ragnosian Aedile and the newest Dark Jedi Knight keeping their distance from the angered Quaestor. Without looking from the image in front of him, Fremoc began to tell the newly made Battleteam leader his mission.

“Take the Night Hawks, and a few squads of DSOG troopers on some LAAT/i’s. Deploy yourselves and your troopers here,” he indicated with his finger at the display. “Push them back towards us here.”

“It’ll be done.” Sarconn motioned to Araxis and Venator to follow him out to the LAAT/i’s. Araxis stayed behind for a moment as Sarconn went out of sight, but Venator followed his new Battleteam leader.

“Can I have my lightsaber back?” asked Araxis. “I’m going to need it for this mission.”

“Methyas, your order came in. It’s on the table,” said Fremoc ignoring his former apprentice. The Aedile picked up the two hilts on the table and gave one to Araxis, knowing that Fremoc didn’t want the new lightsaber. Araxis left the unit while Methyas stayed behind.

“I’m sorry, Commander.” There was a moment were Fremoc didn’t move and watched the battle. There it is again...

“Don’t disobey orders again. It’s bad for moral.”

“Yes, master.”

“These are your people. They are people that I have led for over a year now and consider a part of me. They don’t know yet what’s going on. No one knows what I told you.”

“I know.”

“Let’s finish this crusade, and we’ll talk more about this.”

Mucenic


Sarconn waited impatiently outside the landing pads, the gunships sat there humming. The battleteam leader looked up when he felt the very familiar presence of his Master.

“Welcome to the party lady,” the Hunter said, a grin creeping across his face, “we finally have work that might actually make me sweat.”

Ekeia sighed, once again the thought of a not-so-verbal reprimand crossed her mind, but she had long ago given up trying to change Sarconn’s title for her. The Warrior looked over her shoulder and saw Araxis walking out to the landing pads, then looked back at her apprentice’s smirking face.

“Oh? So the all high and mighty Sarconn is starting to doubt himself?” Ekeia asked.

“Me? Doubting myself? No way, I live for this kind of thing.”

“What is this mission then?”

“Well basically, we are to be deployed behind the enemy and push them back to the main forces. It’s just the four of us, well three, considering some of us can't even see the Vongspawn” the Krath said as he motioned over to the Miraluka, “and a bunch of cannon fodder for soldiers. So we are going to split our forces into two teams and take both sides of the hill and push forward. The teams will consist of myself and Araxis, and you and Venator. Keep in constant communication, and don’t forget, we will be keeping score.” Sarconn said with a laugh as he boarded his gunship. "By the way this is also a race."


With that the young Hunter's ship lifted from the landing pad and went off into the distance.

Mucenic
Command Center


Macron watched Fremoc work silently. This was his baliwick, and Macron intended to give him free reign. "Or enough rope to hang himself... hehehe," thought the madman. "Still, he has more panache than I did. At least he hasn't choked anyone to death... " The alchemist put three fingers under his chin in thought. There's still time, hehehehehe

Aisha stood in front of a holodisplay, pointing to likely spots for snipers. Jade stood next to Macron as she rightfully should, being the senior apprentice. Her svelte presence contrasted the madman's ominous one nicely.

"Lord Consul?" asked Fremoc as the Night Hawks striketeam departed. "Ahem."

"Oh yes," said Macron as his thoughts returned to the task at hand. "Yes. Personal Leadership." He smiled grimly. Personal Leadership meant putting one's life on the line as a leader."I know exactly what that means. Aisha, Jade, prepare yourselves. We are taking this battle to their heart." I wish Manji-sama or Tsainetomo, my blooded comrades were here to fight with me...

"Master, we have an incoming transmission from authorisation clearance Alpha-4782-Omega-CNS," said Aisha as she regarded the communications console. The woman had been a bounty hunter of some skill in her former life and the old habits died hard. "Secure channel."

"Ashura," commented Macron thoughtfully. "Excellent. Send him the landing coordinates and have him come here by airspeeder right away." The madman chuckled. Ashura's appearance was always bound to be interesting. "Jade, did you bring the case from the secure location on Sepros as requested?"

"I did. " The vampiric Krath woman laid a meter and a half long quadanium metal case that looked like a diplomatic briefcase on the table. "I got the things you requested from Sepros as you wished."
She stepped back, a look of mild apprehension on her face. "It took some doing."

Fremoc noticed it with interest but said nothing. "It makes Jade do a double-take," he thought.
"That must be something serious. I hope it's not a bio-weapon." Fremoc smiled, gently sidling toward a nearby gas-mask hanging on the prefab tent wall. He knew Macron's reputation, and Fremoc was no fool.

The alchemist stood over it, placing both thumbs and each forefinger on the top corners. "Vexok 'ak, kissai saarai m'kuth," he whispered. The old Sith words faded away slowly in the room, their vile stain fading reluctantly in the Force. A faint red radiance glamed around the case as the hidden locks popped and the air-seals were broken.

Jade chuckled evilly. The Krath knew exactly what lay within that dark coffer. The things within would bring Hell to their enemies, and blood to slake her unholy thirst. She licked her lips slowly in anticipation. Dying time was near.

Aisha looked surprised, as this was the first time she had ever seen Sith Sorcery at work. Her own studies lay primarily in the arts of combat. "Master?" she queried.

"You forget my first master was a Krath," smirked the Consul. "And the second a Sith of great reknown, although he betrayed us. I am not unfamliar with Sorcery." The Consul opened the case reverently, a gleam of pure pulsing red illuminating his tattooed face. "it is time to utilize all our resources to their fullest. These relics have lain unused and dormant long enough. Let us destroy those who oppose us with them, as the Sith of old dominated the Ekind."

He removed a ring of cold metal "The Ring of Wrath," he intoned as he placed it upon Jade's outstretched finger. A strange blade of metal covered with dark spots that seemed to crawl when not directly looked at was next. "The Sith Sword of Shar Dakhan," he intoned as he buckled the sword to his hip. "The Banner of Revulsion", stated the Warlord as he handed it to Fremoc. The last item to be removed from the case was a strange red bipyramid of gleaming synth crystal.

Macron held the crystal high. "Although I am loath to do it, I see the Holocron of Antar 4 as our only source of information on the Ekind. It has been many years since the Betrayer and Darth Ashen bade me seek it's secrets in their service. It contains my greatest hopes- and my greatest fears." Macron looked at it with an intensity of concentration that quieted the room. "Vexok, Saarai, n'kulo, ithkak, Sith ya'chatyo!" "Come! Truth be opened! Show me the Sith way! "

BAH!! Can someone delete this? Clicked add new instead of edit. Oops

Mucenic

Ekeia rolled her eyes at her apprentice, but smirked nonetheless at their ongoing game. It was simple in concept – who can kill the most, however, the duo had failed to set a specific end to the game, thus resulting in a never-ending competition. Currently, Keia was up four after going on a short personal mission while leaving Sarconn back with Fremoc to settle in as the new leader of the Battleteam Night Hawks.

The Warrior watched as Sarconn’s gunship, filled with half of the troops and Araxis, continued on before turning to face Venator. She grabbed the front of his robes and quickly pulled him behind her to the second gunship filled with troops.

“Come on blind boy, we’ve got some blood to spill and Vongspawn to kill, and I’ll be damned if I let my arrogant apprentice get there before me and jump ahead of me in kills.”

Ekeia boarded the gunship and directed the pilot towards the back of the enemy’s advance.

Although she wouldn’t admit it, she was slightly worried about her partner for the mission, having no idea how he would survive a fight here. Maybe he could hold his own against the Ekind, but she was puzzled as to what would happen when he faced the Vongspawn. However, Venator’s survival wasn not what she worried most about. Call it rude or insensitive, even selfish, but she had a feeling that by the time the Night Hawk’s mission was over, her apprentice would overtake her in their little game. That was what worried the Sith the most.

Forward Command, Temple Grounds
Mucenic, Tarthos

He had expected to be chewed out by the Templar, his actions had been completely uncalled for an completely uncharacteristic but his blood boiled for retribution when the Vong were about; it had cost him dearly on Salus V when he sought his nemesis, wasted time that could've been spent assisting his Clan in their duties. What frustrated him most, was the fact in his blind rage he couldn't put together Alabrek and Kar Alabrek. He felt stupid before moving to check his package, a gift he hadn't been expecting this soon....

Mucenic, Tarthos
Several Weeks Ago

The chiming of his communicator woke Knight swiftly, his body aching from his inability to sit still and heal under the watchful eyes of Naomi. Scooping the earpiece and communicator from his desk he moved to another room for a moment to speak candidly, opening the channel swiftly, "L'eonheart, speak."
The voice rising through his earpiece woke him impossibly fast, "Greetings Aedile L'eonheart, I hope I didn't wake you too early."
"Ma`ar-Tyrius Ga-Tir, I am honoured. What can I do for the Fist of the Brotherhood today?" Methyas responded as quickly and politely as he could.
The Fist simply responded calmly, "I wish to speak to you about the honour and good fortune that Knight Farron and yourself bestowed upon your clan. Your assistance in those weapons demonstrations and simulations has proven to help the Council greatly in our assessments; your Clan was most beneficial to us so I seek to repay you for your services."
Methyas was shocked, he couldn't think of anything to respond with besides the obvious, "Thank you sir."
A small chuckle escaped the Fist before he responded, "The package should arrive shortly, best fortune and may the Force be with you Aedile L'eonheart."

Forward Command, Temple Grounds
Mucenic, Tarthos

Reaching into the package the young Knight removed the two ornate metalic ovoids before giving them a quick glance, hearing Araxis getting ready to leave behind him. Handing the saberless Knight his reward calmly, the curt nod Methyas gave him was the best he could do without speaking. Araxis left swiftly, following his teammate to the waiting Gunships as Methyas went to speak to his Commander. The conversation went to the best he could've expected considering his considerable failures on home-turf today. As the Commander left to deal with the Lord Consul and his escort, Methyas quietly excused himself from the command tent with the appropriate arrangement of guard around him. As he left he took a quick glance out onto the battlefield, the hill a large patchwork of lights and colours to the Miraluka. Patches that faded in and out, large glowing patches and of course, two large glowing birds where the Gunships were circling around to the rear of the formation at the top of the hill to start sandwiching their adversaries.

However, as much as the Knight may want to return to the field of battle, he had a duty here and a standing order to follow. Moving to an open section of the grassy knoll that surround the Temple of Ragnos, Methyas casually waved his hand as a request for the commandoes to create a wider birth around him. Begrudgingly they responded as the Knight took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly, toying with the ovoid hilt in his hand. As he reached the end of his exhale, Methyas slipped the hilt into a comfortable grip in his hand, his ring and middle fingers resting on either side of a slightly raised edge of the ovoid hilt before he spoke up, "Stand clear, going hot."
He heard the shuffle as he saw their figures move, the Force dancing about them calmly as he held the hilt far out before him before quickly thumbing the ignition switch. With a sudden hiss the blade shot out of the hilt on either side of his hand, a much different direction than he had anticipated from a traditional saber. The Blade itself seemed to appear incredibly thin, almost the size of the Katana and Shikomizue he wielded as a "civilian", and was nearly the same length as a traditional saber and hilt in length. Careful to move the blade with an awkward weight and feel in his hand, the Miraluka couldn't help but watch the blade in awe. The Force interacted with the blade like nothing he had ever seen before, it was almost as though the Force itself had formed the shape of the blade; only when incredibly powerful Krath had used their alchemy and magic on an artefact had he ever felt or seen something like this before. It was the blade containment field, with most sabers the blade itself would create an almost superconducting loop in the Force that would contain the superheated plasma, but with this weapon it seemed almost as though some powerful Krath sorcerer had used their alchemy and magic to forcibly shape a new permanent containment field.

He took another deep breath in before a smile started to cross his face, he began to move his hand slowly and ever so slightly to get a feel for the rather different Gyroscopic effect this blade produced. Slow repetitive movements with the blade became stepping stones for the Knight to learn specific motions that would translate into his comfortable Soresu and with each step the Knight grew more confident, his mind and body sliping into a state of moving meditation as the Obelisk focused solely on himself and his blade. As he slipped deeper into his meditation his body and sword moved as one, shaky compared to his traditional saber but enough for him to start speaking the Mantra he had come to know and follow, "Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force."
As he finished his mantra, he finished with a fierce thrust forward, the trooper before him gasping slightly as the tips of the blade seemed to stop mere inches from his body; the sounds of rifles around him cocking in preparation for the worst. Quickly pulling the blade back in close to his body the Miraluka let out a sigh, his mantra seeming to sink in and focus him once again, words quickly escaping him as he shifted to 'look' upon his sword, "Don't worry guys, I appear to have found my Harmony."
With that spoken he disengaged the blade and slipped the hilt onto his utility belt before turning to look upon the command tent once again, curious if Fremoc needed further aid or not.

Command Center, Temple Grounds
Mucenic, Tarthos, Orian System

Macron scrunched his eyes shut when suddenly red lights lanced across the eight sides of the bipyramidal device, blinding flashes tracing the archaic runes, bathing the command center in a bloodied hue. A moment later, adjusted to the scarlet brilliance, he opened his eyes again—

As if gazing into a mirror, before him hung a disembodied face, so like his own.

A youthful, uninjured Darth Malak stared back at him. Then the gatekeeper’s face darkened.

‘You are not my student,’ the ancient Sith Lord growled. Macron felt the air crackle, the already fading daylight deadened to complete blackness. ‘I wish nothing from you... clone.’ The holocron’s eyes flashed like two miniature crimson stars. ‘Where is your Master?’

Fire burned through Macron’s veins and he had to fight the urge not to clench down with his armour fist... and destroy the holocron. I won’t be lectured by you. ‘The Betrayer is not here.’

While the avatar held his gaze, Macron caught the faintest smirk in the corner of its phantom lips. ‘He left for Lehon without you?’ Malak snorted a laugh—however Macron recognised the anger buried behind the façade. ‘How like the Master to discard the apprentice.’

Now it was Macron’s turn to laugh. ‘Discard?’ They didn’t have time for this argument, but the dam holding back his raw contempt was about to burst. ‘I’d think you would know about that,’ he hissed. ‘The Betr—my Master was a fool! It was I who had the last laugh!’ The dam inside him burst and Macron broke into a fit of hysteria, giggling, cackling, gloating. Around him, he was barely conscious of Fremoc and the others as they turned to stare at him. ‘I killed him! I killed him! I KILLED HIM!’

The holocron’s own deep laugher broke Macron out of his giggling fit. ‘Perhaps you learnt something from me after all,’ the image of Malak said, its voice turning more accepting. There was a hunger in its eyes now. ‘Did you make him suffer?’

‘He suffers still,’ whispered Macron, corrosive as acid. ‘But now’s not the time for this.’ The holocron was only doing its job—to make him angry, to dredge up his worst fears, turn him to the dark side, seduce him, test him and see if it could drive him to insanity if he wasn't worthy—but there was a time and a place. And this wasn’t it. Macron clamped down on the lid to his memories and focused. ‘I require information on the Ekind.’

The holocron avatar pinched its brows together. ‘The Ekind.’

Macron nodded. ‘I know you and Revan visited Orian. Your quest for the Star Forge took you to the Star Map on Sepros. You know of them. You must.’

The young Malak studied him for a moment. It amazed Macron just what a resemblance there was in the unblemished face of the then-called Alek Squinquargesimus. Macron shook his head again and focused. The image seemed to sense his thoughts as it grinned—it had known what it was doing when it chose to appear to him of all people with its jawbone intact. ‘Revan and I came here, yes,’ Malak said his Master’s name as if it were a curse. ‘But only briefly.’

‘The Betrayer told me they were originally called the Ombi. That they were twisted by Urias Orian.’

The holocron nodded. ‘According to Revan, Orian infused them with Kissai blood. In doing so, he severed their link to the spirits of their ancestors stored inside the Star of Ombus.’ Malak grunted a laugh. ‘The near-immortal Ombi became short-lived shadows of their past selves. The Ekind—the Cursed Ones—that is what they called themselves when we came looking for the Star Map.’

‘What do you know of Alabrek?’ Fremoc interjected.

The avatar spun, the air around the holocron crackling with red sparks of dark side energy. ‘Do not speak, Obelisk.’ It turned back to Macron.

Macron sighed and shook his head, remembering the holocron only recognised Sith. ‘Do you know anything about someone called Alabrek?’

Malak’s image frowned. ‘I know of no Alabrek. Revan and I did not stray further than we needed,’ it said drily. ‘Our mission was to defeat the Mandalorians. Not go sightseeing.’

The alchemist sighed. Was there anything else the holocron could tell them?

As if reading Macron’s thoughts, Malak added, ‘But I can give you this warning. The Ekind are not to be trusted. Thrice have they served the lords of the dark side... and thrice have they betrayed their masters, turning their own weapons back against them. They are slaves. And like all who are discarded as second, they will rebel.’

Like you, Macron thought. And me...

‘That will be all, Lord Malak,’ said Macron, and the Holocron of Antar 4 fell silent once more.

Upper Atmosphere to Kar Alabrek Landing Platform
Tarthos

\\Shuttle Tiberius proceed to landing co-ordinates.\\

“Confirmed.” The pilot replied as Ashura dug through the cases he brought with him. By the time the shuttle touched down the Warlord was dressed for action. He hadn’t expected to dig out his DSOG uniform so soon, but after all the time away, it did feel good and with his lightsaber hidden away only those who knew the truth would see the returning Dark Jedi. His disguise was essential to blend in.

A solider was waiting for him “Commander Isradia, I have orders from the Governor General to report to the command centre in Mucenic.”

“Very good lieutenant, ensure my bags are transported to my quarters.” Ashura replied before dashing off to one of the land speeders. A few moments later the Sith was making post haste to Mucenic. It irritated the man a little to not know what he was going to have to face, yes he would most likely find out when he go there, but still it would be good. The dark side of the Force bubbled at the back, waiting, to be called on.

Mucenic
Command Centre

To have reached his destination so quickly was almost impossible, expect for driving like a complete mad man, but even then it was down to reflexes. To be able to dodge and swerve without hitting anything required Jedi reflexes, and for Ashura that was not a problem, it was however for the soldier who had to jump out of way of a seemingly out of control land speeder.

“Spast! You almost karking ran me over you idiot!” He shouted at the man jumping out of the now stopped vehicle.

“Shut up before I shut you up,” Ashura replied menacingly without even looking at the soldier. Luckily for the soldier he recognised the Marshel Commander and didn’t reply. Ashura make his way into the building and looked around for Macron. He stood there among watching the flurry of activity and inhaled deeply. He missed this, as every part of his urged to get involved. To kill the enemy.

Isradia spotted some familiar faces and grinned like a mad man as he said, “This is the best homecoming present ever!”

- In the Air
- Mucenic
- Tarthos

Venator smoothed out his nexu hide long coat and gripped the lanyard as he leaned out the egress of the LAAT/i. He watched the faint push of the Vongspawn and could see several of their Ekind masters guiding them.

“Just because I can’t see the spawn doesn’t mean I’m useless.” He said plainly to the Sith. “Those Ekind are the key to the battle. They’re the alphas in the pack. Take them out and the spawn lose coherency.”

“What makes you think that?” Ekia said, her voice tinny over the comms.

“When I killed the Ekind outside of the fortress, her spawn reacted to her command to kill me, but they were slower about it. Like they weren’t so interested in killing me specifically.” Venator replied.

“So you’re volunteering to hunt the Ekind once we touch down?” Ekia asked of the eyeless man standing next to her.

“I was thinking about going for it before we touched down actually.” Venator said as he released the lanyard on the rail of the LAAT/i and took a flying leap out of the troop carrier. Behind him, he could see Ekeia reach for him almost reflexively, but he leaned forward and planed his body out, turning into a meat bullet headed directly for the ground.

At the last moment, with one of the Ekind directly below him, Venator rolled into a flip to point his feet to the ground and pushed himself back up with the Force, killing his terminal velocity. This allowed him to nearly sit on the shoulders of the Ekind below him. As he felt contact, he squeezed with his legs and twisted, snapping the Ekind’s neck before they could realize what had happened to them.

Finishing the movement he rolled into a backflip off of the Ekind and planted his feet.

“I might have thought this through better,” Venator muttered under his breath as he could feel the Vongspawn breathing down his neck. He drew his senses in tight then, so close he couldn’t see three meters in front of himself. This brought the Vongspawn into a much better focus, but it cost him distance vision.

He ignited his lightsaber then, still a very unfamiliar weapon in his hands, but took a faint comfort in hearing blaster fire begin raining down near him. He began swinging, clumsily, but OJT is the best kind of training, especially when the alternative is getting himself killed and possibly eaten.

Venator slashed at an angle down, cleaving one of the ghouls, then turned his body to the right to cut another across the stomach, pushing the blade much harder than it needed to be pushed. This served to put him off balance, which he recovered by disigniting and turning a side twisting flip. With his momentum he kicked another ghoul in the face. There was a satisfying crunch, but he knew that he hadn’t done much in the way of permanent harm.

The important thing was making some room though. Venator pushed his senses out further and saw the blaze of Ekeia’s lightsaber, mowing ghouls like she was doing yard work, her movements flowing gracefully between the Makashi and Soresu forms like it was the most natural thing to do next to breathing.

Sparing another glance at his own lightsaber, Venator scowled at the weapon, lit it again, and began mowing his way towards another Ekind, who appeared to be in the middle of trying to take control of his first victim’s forces. Upon arrival, he disignited his lightsaber again and tossed it high into the air. As the Ekind foolishly watched it, Venator drew his razors, stepped in, and sliced a pair of cuts neatly into his foe’s abdomen. He re-sheathed his razors and caught his lightsaber on the return trip down as the Ekind’s intestines began spilling out around his feet.

“Nice of you to join us,” Ekeia yelled to the Miraluka as he rejoined her, azure lightsaber humming in tune to her red one.

“If you’re not risking your life, you’re not living it.” He replied, and started swinging, his path taking him clear of the Sith Warrior so as to not tangle up in her work. As he worked, he kept his eyes sharp for more Ekind, his preferred target in these mobs. Kill a few more of them and their coordination would weaken, making a push towards their target zone that much easier.

Mucenic

It was no time to be late, not now. She couldn't let anyone down, everyone was needed no matter what. Up ahead of her, Kalei spotted the gunship as Keia jumped onto it. That was where the Hawks were, and that was where she had to go as well. Quickly slipping her lightsaber, which had just been redone, onto her belt and jumped onto the gunship as it started to take off.

"You weren't leaving without all of us Hawks, were you?"

The Priestess sighed and looked at the others. This was going on way to long. They were being sent to the front lines to push the enemies back. She never liked fighting, but she didn't have a choice now. Everything in her life was going great until this whole thing started. Seperation from everything that she had and wanted to keep was taking its toll, as well as really not thinking clearly. Her mind was stuck in a battle mode with not a bit of rest.

Keeping hold so that as she didn't fall as the gunship flew on, she heard the discussions about seperating the teams.

"Keia, I'll split off with you and your team. Let's get this fighting done, we've had more than enough of it."

She wasn't the same as before all the fighting started, her demenior had changed. She was sick of the fighting and wanted things to go back to the way that they were.

In the air above Mucenic


The Hunter erupted into laughter at the sight of Venator leaping out Ekeia’s gunship, making sure to open comms to his Master in the middle of his laughing fit.

“So seems like he is almost as crazy as I am,” Sarconn laughed, “at least he won’t be at a complete lose in this battle.”

“I just hope he doesn’t kill himself before we need him.” Ekeia said, her voice crackling through the comms, “Just like I hope Kalei doesn’t steal all my kills.”

The young Hapan once again burst into laughter as he switched his comm channel over to the pilot, looking at the newly appointed Knight with an insane grin.

“Let us start a show then.”

“Yes sir!”

With that the sound of firing erupted from the gunship as they strafed the ground, blasting enemies on the ground and clearing a path for the team. Sarconn then looked at Araxis with the grin on his face took his whip from his belt and then jumped out of the ship, using the Force to guide his freefall and slow his decent down to actually survive the impact.

Once he landed he immediately swung the whip over his head and snapped it towards a surviving Vongspawn, wrapping it around its neck and yanked hard, pulling the spawn towards the still grinning Krath, and slammed his fist into the face of his enemy, crushing it.

After the Vong fell, Sarconn heard a small rumble and saw about twenty spawns rushing him, and laughed as he felt a strong presence drawing nearer. Not too soon after he felt it, he saw a couple of metallic balls fall just in front of the would-be rushers.

Sarconn had just enough time to cocoon himself in the Force before two huge explosions detonated under the feet of the Vong, blasting them apart. Just as the dust settled Araxis landed from his jump out of the now landing ship, unloading the rest of troopers out onto the battle field.

Both Night Hawk members stood and looked at the carnage they created, knocked dirt out of their robes and laughed.

“Now that is one hell of an entrance Araxis!” Sarconn laughed as he switched comms over to Fremoc, “In case you didn’t know, we landed.”

Mucenic

Keia muttered a few curses as she turned off her comm with Sarconn. She knew she would have to act fast, act now, if she wanted to keep ahead of her apprentice. After ordering the pilot to land as soon as possible Ekeia launched herself out of the gunship with a few flips in the air for fun. Aided by the force, she landed, quietly crouching behind a group of Ekind before activating her lightsaber. In one swift sweep she removed three sets of legs causing three bodies to fall to the ground in various directions. Still acting quickly, Keia stood and sliced through each shoulder leaving three unarmed, defenseless Ekind. She smiled at the pained expressions of the downed enemies before stepping over each one, bringing her saber cleanly through the necks of each, counting out loud each head as it rolled away.

The Sith commed her apprentice and as she waited for him to answer, she turned to look at the gunship landing to her right, the troops being led out by Kalei. To her left she saw Venator resheathing razors and heading over towards her. As the Miraluka came closer, Keia tried contacting Sarconn once again, but quickly shut her comm off at a large explosion from the area that the other half of the team had landed at.

Keia rolled her eyes and could almost imagine the smirk on her apprentice’s face. She knew that the boy had just passed her up already. Her frustration was quickly cut at the beeping of her comm. Ekeia answered it, knowing who was ready to gloat.

“That would be eleven and still counting, lady. You can congratulate me later, though, I’ve got more numbers…”

The Sith Warrior cut off the communication before letting her apprentice finish his thought and led Venator over to where their ten troopers and Kalei were fighting.

“Ok you evil comrades, it’s time we break out the destruction. I’ll not stand for letting our new leader’s ego grow.”

Ekeia floated a grenade from one of the soldier’s belt over to her before chunking it far ahead of her, watching as it blasted a clear area in the middle of a large mass of the enemy. She then motioned for Kalei and Venator to lead with her and for the troops to follow them as they worked their way up the hill.

Blue and red sabers spun and swung, deflecting attacks and dismembering and decapitating their opponents as blaster bolts whizzed through the air from the soldiers that were flanked by the Dark Jedi. For the most part, Keia and Kalei had worked to kill the Vongspawn they ran into and let Venator deal with Ekind. The three of them tried to protect their troops; however, a few blaster bolts had gotten through Venator’s basic Banlanth knowledge, thus resulting in the death of two of their men so far.

As all this was going on though, Keia was silently whispering numbers as enemies fell, counting and wondering what her apprentice was up to.

Mucenic
Behind Enemy Line

Araxis stood from the crouching position he had landed in. Tilting his head to the left, a loud snapping sound echoed in the silent vicinity, "We'll just add those kills up against Master Ekeia, sound good Sarconn?" Araxis put bluntly, adding to the long running joke the two apparently had.

Sarconn nodded, "Fair enough, but lets get to work, you remember the orders correct?" he asked readying himself as the small squad of soldiers prepared to back them up. Loud clicking started to fill the air, charged ammo packs being pumped into guns, stowed away in reserve packs, Thermals prepped for immediate use if things got to FUBAR.

"Yeah, I remember the orders of Commander Pepoi," Araxis recalled as he refilled his own thermals, "Push the enemy back towards the main force, fairly hard to forget." He felt very naked without his lightsaber, seeing as how it'd been taken away before they had departed the commander center. It took a short moment, but Araxis' mind clicked and he remembered the package that Aedile Methyas handed off to him. Sarconn prepared the squad with a more detailed plan, in which time Araxis took the liberty of reading the report on the package. Remembering the testing that Araxis and Methyas had preformed for the Fist of the Brotherhood, the package could be only one of two things that were suppose to be coming his way. Removing the item from the container, Araxis rested the new hilt comfortably between his middle and ring finger, ignition switch opposite his palm. He studied the hilt carefully just before the field briefing had ended, the design was unlike anything he'd seen before, it was clear some careful planning and time went into its construction.

"Move out, lets get this plan rolling" Sarconn instructed, "Araxis, are you ready? We've got to..." his voice trailed off for a moment. "Whats that? Where is your saber?" Sarconn asked aggressively.

"Stand back, I'll show you," Araxis replied, gripping down on the hilt, being prepared for as much as one could expect. With a sudden hiss the blade shot out of the hilt on either side of his hand, a much different direction than he had anticipated from a traditional saber. The Blade itself seemed to appear incredibly thin, and was nearly the same length as a traditional saber and hilt in length. Careful to move the blade with an awkward weight and feel in his hand, the Knight couldn't help but watch the blade, in all it's powerful glory. The Force interacted with the blade like nothing Araxis had ever seen before, it was almost as though the Force itself had formed the shape of the blade; only when incredibly powerful Krath had used their alchemy and magic on an artefact had he ever felt or seen something like this before. It was the blade containment field, with most sabers the blade itself would create an almost superconducting loop in the Force that would contain the superheated plasma, but with this weapon it seemed almost as though some powerful Krath sorcerer had used their alchemy and magic to forcibly shape a new permanent containment field.

"Woah!" Sarconn gasped, "That is impressive, but are you going to be able to control that thing out here?" he asked jokingly.

"Of course, it'll take a few moments to learn, but a true life time to master.." Araxis replied, his eye still fixated on the brilliant crimson sword still in front of him, cut off by the scream of a soldier.

"We got incoming Vongspawn!" the nameless soldier yelled.

"You heard the man, It's time to kill these bastards!" Araxis shouted, dropping the blade to his right side, bursting out into a full on run as he charged the enemy along side the deployed squad.

Sector Five
Refuge

Most people came to Refuge in search of profit or adventure and many found it and often more than they expected. However for each of them there were also the ones who did the day to day jobs that kept the place turning. One such was Keldore, a low level immigration monitoring attendant in Sector five. He didn’t mind, boring though spending his days studying biometric data of those passing the scanners was it too had it’s opportunities for profit for one with a little technical knowledge and an eye for a chance. He took a small data rod from his pocket and inserted it into his terminal, leaning back in his seat and watching as the program filtered the results. Suddenly he leaned forward in interest as the screen focused in and flashed on one particular name. He smiled and pressed a fingertip to one of the icons on the screen that his special program had added, sending the arrival and movement information to a certain interested party with credits to spend. Someone somewhere was about to get their bounty collected on.

Malisane leaned into the doorway, studying the building across the promenade. “Seems abandoned,” Senth commented.
“Giving the going over Macron and the rest gave it I’m not surprised,” the Battlelord replied.
“So what do you expect to find?” the DAC asked, “surely anything of interest has been cleared out by now.”
“Possibly,” Malisane replied, “but they might have missed something. It’s a good place to start.”
“Very well Sir,” Senth said and they moved forward, keeping watch as Malisane quickly and silently removed the shutters covering the doorway. He slipped inside. Drastig’s base had been opulent, the crimelord having a taste for fine furniture and artwork, but now it was wrecked, many things smashed and anything of value had been picked clean by looters or wrecked during the fighting. The place had a distressing smell of sweat and animal urine and worse. Malisane picked his way forward, remembering the layout from before, his eyes enhanced by the force in the darkness.

Outside Senth kept a silent vigil opposite the doorway his Master had entered, keeping a hand on the blaster concealed at his waist. The promenade was quiet, except for a few drunken late night revellers staggering along it and a few beggars the resident crimelords mob hadn’t cleared off. No one was taking an interest in the abandoned base entrance. He settled back against the wall, his enhanced hearing listening for anything unusual. Suddenly his head snapped around at a noise and a small device skittered along the metal floor to land at his feet. He gasped in surprise as it silently burst out a mist of fine vapour, and he felt a wave of nausea as the droplets entered his body through his lungs and pores As he tried to stagger away his feet buckled under him and he collapsed to the floor, vision fading. A few seconds later a figure in a long black coat briefly examined him, then slipped inside the building he’d been watching.

Ashen Meadows, Red Zone
Markosian City, Tarthos, Orian System

The writhing horror just outside the city walls welled up Byron Cargas’s spine. Then it burst. Cold waters flooding across his bleeding chest, freezing his heart into a block of ice. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Something flashed and his eyes shut, unable to see.

Then he opened them again.

Seni Malloch’s naked body lay spread-eagled in front of him, eyes vacant, breasts coated in spiny growths, waist wrapped in rings of nightmare coral. The smoke was still rising from the hole in her forehead.

Byron lowered his blaster... his head followed.

Forgive me, Araic.

Someone called Byron’s name.

What did they want? Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t they hear what was going on out there? He looked up at the city wall. Men, women, aliens, droids—every citizen of Markosian able to bear arms, blasters, antique blades, or simply broom handles—everyone—they were all presently, frantically, fighting to reinforce the main gate. The sounds outside...

They didn’t beggar thinking about. Screams. Lusts. Terrors. These creatures—was it even fair to call them that?—these demons, these undead ghouls hammered at the entrance to the city, clawed, scratched, pounded. It wouldn’t be long. Walls didn’t hold forever. Was this it? Had his career reached its end here?

In the sky above, he could make out the glinting white dagger of the Final Way... but it was too late. Mucenic had come first. It had had to come first. That was always the way. Byron knew this. He’d... accepted it.

But these people?

He looked around him. They were innocent. They’d done nothing wrong. They weren’t even aware of their employers secretly being the masters of the dark side. They’d been deceived. Like Byron had—until he’d sold his soul to the Sith six years ago in the skies above Antei.

All for it to come down to this. Here. Today.

To watch ordinary people be sacrificed in the name a Sadow Empire yet to come.

He sighed and shook his head.

‘General?’ the voice from earlier called again.

Byron cleared his throat. ‘Hold fast the gate! This city will not fall!’ His reservations didn’t matter. He had a job to do. And he was going to do it. ‘Let’s give these inhuman devils hell. Remember. They aren’t your loved ones anymore.’ That goes for you, too, Araic. ‘Whatever you might be thinking—don’t. Fight. Fight or die. There is no third option. Are you with me?’

A few of the surviving soldiers replied, as did some of the police.

‘I said—are you with me?!’

A carrion cry went up from the citizens of Markosian. At least they still had hope.

The snarls and roars from beyond the gate redoubled in response.

Byron swallowed. Hope. They were going to need it...

Mucenic

“We have a man down, repeat we have a man down!” “Medic! We need a Medic!” “Help me! I don’t want to die!”

The screams of the troopers seemed to be louder then the sound of battle, cries for help, reports, and just the sound of cowards filled the net, flooding the comms of the Night Hawks strike team. All it was doing however, was angering the Hunter, he hated any show of fear, and seeing the troopers hide in the face of the enemy would not stand without a price to pay. Spotting a trooper that was whimpering behind cover, Sarconn cracked his whip towards the trooper, tearing out a chunk of meat from the cowards face. Flicking his comm channel over to the entire strike team, the young Krath spoke over the trooper’s screams.

“Cowardice will not be tolerated. We have a mission to do, and I will see it done before the time we are allotted, you have one choice to make, to die by the enemy, or to die by the hand of a Dark Jedi.” Sarconn spat across the net, “If you don’t mind lady, be sure to kill all cowering troopers.”

“Works for me,” Ekeia shot back, “by the way, my count is in the eighties, how are you doing?”

The Hapan turned to look at the path he and Araxis created, eyeing the mangled bodies of Vongspawn and Ekind alike. Looking back at Knight, the Hunter grinned and keyed his comm.

“Around the mid hundreds, you need to stop slacking off lady and put your back into it.”

He could just imagine the look on his Master’s face as she took in the information, and started to laugh at the image he saw. His laughter was cut short when a report came in from on of the hovering gunships.

“Sir, you have a massive force coming straight at you! There are too many to tell, recommend evac!”

“We will do no such thing! This party is just getting good, how about you stop complaining and shoot the bastards!”

The gunship hesitated a moment before lighting up the ground with their cannons. the ground erupted beneath the incoming wave, blasting the enemy into the air or just ripping them apart. The surviving Vongspawn and Ekind rushed them and clashed into blaster bolts, lightsabers, and a cracking whip. The Night Hawks tried to push forward, but the move up slowed to almost a dead stop. They lost the element of surprise and now the enemy was sending troops from the front lines to try and take care of the strike team. Troopers were being cut down, and Araxis was breaking in his new blade, and the enemy was still coming in hard.

Sarconn dropped his whip and advanced through incoming fire towards a group of Vongspawn surrounding an Ekind. Using the Force to strengthen his muscles, the Krath engaged the group using his Shadowfist form. Throwing a punch into the face of a Vongspawn, then using the same momentum to spin around with a kick that connected into the ribs of another. The Hunter just barely avoided a punch from the Ekind, but unfortunately for this opponent, he overextended his reach, giving Sarconn more then enough time to grab it’s wrist and, using his other hand, strike a blow into the elbow of the enemy, breaking it with a snap. Falling with a scream the Ekind’s neck was crushed with a final punch, the Vong it commanded seemed to automatically turn towards the young Hapan, but was easily dispatched with a few well placed kicks and punches.

Araxis came up behind Sarconn as he looked down at the Ekind as it struggled to gasp for some air, his windpipe clearly crushed.

“What do you want to do with him?” Araxis asked.

“Leave him, he will die soon enough,” Sarconn said without taking his eyes off the Ekind, “why not let him think about his mistakes for trying to attack us?”

With that Sarconn turned and pushed forward to another advancing wave.

- On the Hill
- Mucenic
- Tarthos

The battle was getting tiring, mostly the mental exhaustion of trying not to butcher his own people with his lightsaber. It was almost annoying seeing his comrades moving with such a fluid grace with that most devastating of melee weapons. Venator kept swinging though, clumsily and with a distinct lack of grace, something he wasn’t prone to doing.

To make matters worse, the Ekind were avoiding the hell out of him. Once he’d killed a baker’s dozen of them, the remainders kept pushing waves of their spawn towards him, and while these ghouls weren’t skilled combatants, a wall of angry undead was very hard to avoid. The attrition was wearing on him more and more. Cuts, bruises, probably more broken ribs and most likely a fractured ankle were making life tough on the Miraluka.

Certainly his teammates weren’t ignoring him, but their competition drew a particular amount of attention, which was another reason Venator wasn’t involving himself so much with their particular party. Getting into the mess of that was likely to cause more than a little trouble, so he kept cutting, kept getting beat on, and just pressed as hard as he could.

A few swings and a dead ghoul later, and things changed just a little. If Venator had eyes, they would have lit up. There was an Ekind not far away, and by the looks of things, this one had no intention of avoiding him. He was a big one too, a head and shoulders taller, and probably a good 20 kilos heavier than the Protector, and Venator wasn’t what you’d call a little man.

“I was wondering when you’d make your way here,” He said in a deep basso rumble as his last spawn minion fell.

Venator scowled at the man, disignited his lightsaber, and drew his heavy knives.

“So be it.” The large Ekind said, and pointed a hand at the Miraluka, a hand covered in some kind of jewelry. Venator didn’t have the time to register what was happening until it was too late. Orange lightning arced from the Ekind’s gauntleted fist, and struck him firmly in the chest.

The pain was amazing, unbearable, and intense. So much so that Venator felt himself being lifted off his feet. He sailed a couple of meters and landed with a skid. The Ekind responsible gestured towards the rest of the Night Hawks, and the horde around him began swarming Venator’s allies.

At an initial evaluation, once the lightning stopped, the pain ended too, and it didn’t feel like that much in the way of damage. It wasn’t like the dark Force Lightning tossed about by most advanced darksiders. Still, it was temporarily incapacitating, long enough for the Ekind to get up on Venator.

He rained several short kicks into the stomach and midsection of Venator, causing him to curl up to protect himself. When that happened, the Ekind knelt down and started punching him in the face. If possible, his strikes hit harder than the lightning did.

Venator gathered his senses enough to intercept one of the Ekind’s punches, putting his hand into a knifelike shape and thrusting forward. It caught the Ekind in the throat while simultaneously deflecting his punch, causing him to strike the ground. There was a satisfying crunch as the Ekind’s fist struck a flat stone, followed by a howl.

Capitalizing on the distraction, Venator grabbed the Ekind’s lapels, thrust a boot into his stomach, and flipped him over his head. A kippup later and Venator watched the Ekind move to pull himself up. Not wanting him standing, Venator hauled off and kicked the Ekind straight in the side of the head, bowling him over again.

As Venator reached for his razors, the Ekind let loose with another blast of orange lightning, this one pushing Venator down to his knees. The Ekind kept it up as he rose to his feet, and didn’t relent with the blast until he was on top of Venator and had grabbed the Miralukan assassin and lifted him into the air. He then took a kneeling position and drove Venator down.

If not for a last second moment of survival instinct, Venator would have felt his spine snap but he twisted and jerked, instead taking the impact on his right hip. It hurt, and there was definite cracking there, but it wasn’t fatal.

It was annoying. It was the Ekind’s last mistake. It was Venator’s invitation to forget he was a sapient being at all.

Following the impact, Venator rolled away and onto his feet, tossing his Nexu hide coat to the side. He couldn’t take advantage of the K’thri arts because of the fractured hip and ankle, but that was probably more complicated than Venator wanted to get. He simply rushed the Ekind, ducked the heavy swing the Ekind threw, and spun on his good leg to get behind the Ekind. He grabbed the Ekind’s head in a reverse DDT maneuver, but instead of dropping him, Venator torqued up once the Ekind’s back was bent from the added weight. There was a horrible crunch from the maneuver, but before Venator let him go, he finally got hand on one of his razors with his free hand, and proceeded to scalp the Ekind.

One very primal howl of pain later, Venator was holding the Ekind’s scalp in the air. Around him the ghouls gathered, but with the loss of yet another leader, they were disorganized, and fell more easily to the other Night Hawks than they had before.

“You functional?” Sarconn said the Venator as the injured Miraluka composed himself.

“Yeah,” Venator said. He nodded in assent as he put his coat back on and gathered his weapons.

“Good, take these, and on my cue, put them right behind the spawn.” Sarconn said, and handed Venator a pair of Thermal Detonators. “Kalei is running with you.”

“Got it,” Venator said, and summoned up the Force within himself to enhance his running and athletic ability. On one very bum leg, he was going to need it. He further drew his senses in again, he’d need to see his enemies very well to dodge them, so it was back to two meters or so ahead of himself again.

He ran, he leapt, he dodged, and he juked, each movement eliciting another wave of near nauseating pain. Once he’d cleared the wave, he pushed his senses out again and saw Kalei a hundred meters to his right. He saw her nod, and used that as his cue to activate both thermal detonators, lobbing them both with a two handed toss, and using the Force to split their path. They went off with flashes so bright they were blinding and implosions that sucked the air out of the area for a moment.

“Well, that was pretty,” Venator said before igniting his lightsaber again and pushing into the tail end of the wave of spawn. Their leadership was dying, so steering them was getting a lot easier.

Kalekka Tower, Du'san Boundary, Antei
Private Residence of Shan Long
Domain of Forgotten Souls

…One voice in life death
Time out of illusion
Scream darker mourning…

Delicate fingers, white as bleached paper or desert parched bones carefully closed around the filament stem of an over-large snifter. A single gust of fine inhalation brought a twilight rose bloom across each of the milky highlights of flesh that underscored eyes of glittering smoked onyx. Those same eyes flickered with a latent intensity around the broad chamber. Elegantly appointed in tapestry-hangings of blank emerald silk were the only signs of its former grandeur revealed by the roaring fire. A single nip of brandy brought the color in her cheeks to a deep crimson. Much as it had once been in the faces of any one of a dozen guests clambering for an invitation to a soiree in the Emerald Room of Kalekka Tower.

For now, the Lady Morrigan and Master Shan Long sat on a bare stone floor before the inferno of a broad fireplace. The twin pinpoints of violet light his blue eyes reflected back the fire, and again onto thin crystal containing smoky amber cognac.

“Your vices have remained constant Master Long.” The Lady said evenly. “You maintain your attachment to chemical pleasure while foregoing even the minor hospitality of a settee.”

Her voice was thick with an irony not lost on the Dragon

“A river might be crossed, milady. Yet not all bridges need be burnt.”

“As yet still paraphrasing to dodge a question?”

“Nor do you refute my analogy.” The Dragon responded with a sly grin.

“No I did not. “ Lady Morrigan smiled. “Some things must never change.” She waved a hand into the empty expanse. “I am quite pleased. You seem more introspective, less encumbered than your precedent.”

“What is emptiness, my love, but a great void? Indeed, the Enigmas have shown me an appreciation of depreciation that the Son of Alaerus would never have known. “ The Voice of Thunder drew on his own glass. “The receptivity of nothingness is an observation that never occurred to his grand design of penetrating the void with pure will.”

She raised a single eyebrow in a gesture of human amusement. “An apt sexual paradigm, Master Long. The form of penetration follows the function of envelopment. Are you suggesting to be the ravening sexual beast, Shan? That instead the rapist was devoured by his intended victim?”

“Not at all Lady Morrigan.” Shan Long said. “Merely to perhaps establish another metaphor: Sex is a careful dance, seduction, reception, advance and retreat. To barrel unto the dance floor like a bull is to be left waiting for disappointment.”

“Juvenile yet no less effective. ‘Sex and the Jedi’ A holodrama in the making.

Thunder drained his glass, and in a crack of displaced are a decanter of cut crystal appeared. He refilled the Lady’s drink, and then his own. She nodded her thanks, taking another sip.

“All considered Master Long, what is the Force as vulgarly understood, but a metaphor for crass reproductive rituals. Penetrative, holy, fetishistic, and romantic? Does it not resemble a cleric’s few of holy matrimony, or even base fornication depending on the approach?”

“I sense” the Dragon paused, “That you are baiting me for a deeper discussion. Perhaps to determine if mine are the hedonistic ways of Trevarus Caerick.”

“And if I am?” responded the Lady. “Would you begrudge me such an inquisition?”

“Not at all. Jedgar Paladin would be pleased.”

“As the catalyst of your transformation, I imagine he would be.”

“My lady, you imagine nothing.” Shan Long said. “Many secrets of the Star Chamber are known to me, yet to you—in the common parlance—they are old hat indeed.”

“You, the youngest of the Enigmas, are but a babe at your mother’s teat.” Replied Lady Morrigan. “His presumption is yours yet, Master Long.”

“Again, some bridges….” The Dragon chuckled lightly.

“A moment of silence passed between the pair. Subtle crackling of wood-embers and lambent radient heat from a dying fire prompted the Dragon to add another spilt timber to the inferno.

“Something troubles you, Shan.”

“A mere consideration milady.”

“What of it?”

“A trifle, but important.” The Dragon breathed deeply of new smoke. “A question that has plagued my wakeful dreams.”

“I sense in your vague fear a certain question. You consider the darkness receptive, but fear it might not yet be penetrative as well.” She did not ask this as a question.

“Fear is the root cause of confusion, and I am not afraid. I am merely concerned that Trevarus Caerick may have hidden something from me. “

“Call his ghost and determine the truth.” She said this with a simple gesture towards his swirling red-reflecting right hand.

“I will not.” Replied the Dragon. He did, however; raise his right hand, fingers turned down under the waxing violet light that began to radiate from the Fragment of Ombus embedded on the back of his hand. The purple-hued figure of a young man, up from the shoulders appeared as if from a hologram. Even through the colored haze, his eyes could be seen as one blue, the other green. The Mark of the Wanderer completing the triangle on his forehead.

“This child is a Revenant. “ Shan Long said.

“A Revenant? What do you mean?”

“That he is an Avatar of the mystic nature of the Cult. The mark appeared in utero. He was born with it, even though I suspect he only has a bare glimpse of the true meaning and potential.” The knuckles on his left hand tightened into white across the fingers clenching his snifter. “My research has revealed only one other suspected Revenant in the history of the Cult. That being the sorceress Tiamat.”

“I see. You believe Trevarus knew something of this?”

“Kraitus appeared in Clan Naga Sadow territory almost immediately after Caerick’s death at Lehon. He is an undocumented adherent of the Jedi Code, which is even more unsual. He has been tempted, but not fallen to the Final Way.”

”And why is this such a coincidence? Is it required that all Marked adhere to the Way of the Seven Souls?”

“No. The more violent tenants often make it inevitable. It is difficult to embrace the Third Sight and not fall prey to base passion. A powerful will is required to maintain balance.” Shan Long paused. “My chief concern is that Mononoke Keibatsu recognized him immediately upon his appearance in the city of Seng Karesh. Almost as if he had foreknowledge. The deranged Alchemist was anointed Erronis by Caerick when the Far Outsiders threatened Antei.”

“What if the Exile—the Heretic—if you will, who was anointed after he killed the Sword of Astatine played his hand in that affair? You know Caerick’s Apprentice still exists… or was that too mere coincidence?”

“I know not, Milady, yet I believe that Xanos’ anointing was as much fate as perhaps some ill Providence.”

Lady Death s[Expletive Deleted]ed carefully. “You played a delicate game Lord Long. Since your conception at the whim of Fire, your vision has been somewhat clouded by blood. The unity of two Heralds was something not even we Enigmas foretold. “

Shan Long sighed. Withdrawing a small leather tube from under his heavy tunic, he produced a dark cigar of a hand’s length. A small measure of blade and fire from his right hand saw him puffing contently on smoke with a reddish tint, while drawing a heavy nosh from his snifter.

“Caerick himself supplanted an Enigma by orchestrating his ultimate death. He manipulated the Star Chamber to his own ends, and his ends were not mine.”

“You speak of Kiln Tobasa?” Morrigan asked.

“Yes. “ Shan Long said curtly. “I have been heir to Caerick’s physical form and memories, yet often the logic or insanity of his process has escaped my insight. Its hard to observe a conclusion if you cannot perceive the underlying actions or examine more than the merest of evidence.”

“Again, summon his ghost and be done with it.”

“That is not necessary. I have the tools required without the headache of his spectre.” Shan Long visibly shuddered.

“I found Caerick to be engaging, charming, and the perfect gentleman. You are again lacking in certain hospitable necessities.”

“You know I will not be remaining in this ruin for long. You yourself referred to Kalekka Tower as a monument to his arrogance.”

“So I did. Where shall I meet you next?” The Lady Morrigan asked, rising to her feet.

Shan Long rose in turn, and kissed her hand bended at the waist. “You alone choose the manner of our discussions. I am merely your servant.”

“And yet the flirt, Master Dragon.” She smiled lightly.


* * *
Robert Daragon….

It was a call without spoken word.

Yes my Master… what is your command?
We have much to discuss. In the Library. Summon Eosara and come at once.
As you say.

Shan Long stared into the blank void of empty expanse of bookshelves and carrels that once held innumerable scrolls. His eyes alighted on a single object centered on a small round table of dark wood in the center of the room. This might have been the only article of furniture remaining in the entire ruin of the Tower, long lost to disuse, ill-attention, and the subsequent disrepair of the past years. He considered many events, staring at an oversized tetrahedonal obsidian crystal that seemed to shine with its own inner violet light. The Legion Crystal. Such a maddening magnus opus of a gifted sorcerer. Yet its mysteries were so far beneath the Dragon that he barely considered the art of such a creation. Instead he waited with unusual patience for one of his reputation.

Within a few moments, a slightly haggered man in his middle years appeared with the hulk that still served the Master Long as his Seneschal.

Robert Daragon bowed in deference. Quite unlike his general manner. The gravity of the perceived situation seemed to temper his fire. “How may we serve?”

“Master Goratis, what is the operational capacity of the Cohort?” Shan Long said, cutting quickly to business.

“Six of the thirteen Cabals are at full readiness. Epsilon is preparing resources on Gallinore. Alpha and Beta have not recovered sufficiently from the Wild Space incident. I’m working very hard with their Praetorians to reindoctrinate and physically train the new recruits.”

“And Zeta, Gamma… and most particulary Kappa Cabal?” The Dragon asked

“The former are at full readiness. Kappa… they are fully equipped… but what are you planning Tr…. Master Long?”

Eosara slipped out of habit, and Shan Long forgave him.

“I have a special assignment for them. Merge the available units from Gamma and Beta into a temporary combat Cabal. Assign Zeta to its usual mission, do what you can to assemble other Cabals to full readiness. I require six total for combat, plus Kappa and Zeta.”

“To where shall I deploy them, my Lord?”

“The Orian System. Be discreet. We must not tip our hand until the time is right.”

“And when is that?” Eosara asked, surprised.

"I’ll let you know. You have your orders, proceed my friend.”

“Yes my Lord.”

Eosara left the Master and Apprentice alone in the Library. Neither spoke for a space of moments. Tension, questions, and answers already known lingered in the air.

“What’s the plan, Shan?” Robert asked, showing a glimpse of his cavalier humor.

“I believe that our Clan requires our attention. I want you to go ahead, and perhaps scout the politics briefly. I made my peace with the Lord Sadow, but mistrust always runs high when our brothers are involved. Take the Sanguinus… indulge yourself—seduce Christine if you might—I have a feeling we’ll be involved in a fair bit of fighting.” The Dragon smiled.

“Fighting friends or foes?”

“Is there a difference?” The Dragon began laughing mightily.

Mucenic

Tarthos

On the other side of the battle, on the opposite side of the Night Hawks, the battle was extremely intense. A Mandalorian sorounded by DSOG troops, the bodies of Vongspawn were piled high and beginning to stink in the sun, Roxas looked around and noticed that he was the only Dark Jedi on that side.

"I guess that's my fault for not joining them" Roxas said to himself as he was punched in the face by a Vongspawn. Roxas not falling over or flenching, he began laughing maniacally and turned his head facing the Vongspawn, which was stunned by the fact that Roxas didn't even move alittle. Roxas balled up his fist and using his Jakelian style punched the Vongspawn with so much force that its' neck broke under the pressure. The Vongspawn got back up from the ground, the Protector stepped back prepairing for its' attack. Unknown to Roxas an Ekind was behind him, as he backed up the Ekind slashed a sword cutting Roxas's shoulder, his blood streaming down the Mandalorian's armor. Almost unconscious from the pain Roxas ignited his crimson lightsaber slicing the Vongspawn standing in front of him. He then turned and reached out with the darkside pulling a nearby boulder toward the Ekind crishing him. The Ekind kept trying to crawl out from under the boulder, Roxas walked over and drew his blaster from its' holster on his belt and took aim at the Ekind's head."Why won't you die!", Roxas shouted as he fired repeated shots into the Ekind, turning its' head into mush.

The DSOG troops were already low on moral, but seeing the Mandalorian injured made them lose hope. A tropper ran to the Protector and checked his wounds, and luckily it was just a flesh wound, but he lost alot of blood. Calming his mind Roxas felt a burst of healing energy enter his body and barelly closing his wound, but the pain remained. Roxas clicked on his comm link, "Fremoc, I need more troops these guys can't continue any further, and I am injured. Are their any reinforcements left?"

All that came from the other end of the comm was static. Roxas tried again, and realized that the punch must have damaged his comm link. Roxas yelled to a DSOG tropper and ordered, "Try to reach Fremoc on your comm if possible, and inform him that mine is damaged!" The tropper immediately followed his orders, and replied, "Sir, communications must be either down or jammed, I am unable to reach him as well."

Roxas had to devise a plan to reach the Queastor for information, so thinking quickly he decided to send one of the troopers, but it would either have to be one that is injured or new. Roxas called out, "Either the most injured or the newest tropper, go to Lord Pepoi, and report on our situation and ask for any aid that he can supply." The most injured trooper ran from their line and headed for the command post as fast as he could hobble.

While waiting for either aid or the injured trooper to return, Roxas felt that it would be best to keep pushing in the direction of the Night Hawks, so that the enemy lines would be cut in two. With his crimson blade in hand,barelly able to weild it due to his injuries, he lead his troopers further into the never ending waves of Vongspawn. Roxas trying to give some sort of encouragement to his troops shouted, "If you need incouragement then look at the bodies behind you, piled high. The enemies that you have slaughtered are lying in mounds atleast four to five high, if you give up now that all you have fought for is for is for nothing. Don't give up now, we will drive them from not just from our homes and our planet, from from our System!"

The words wroked, but the Protector was wondering how long he could keep them going. He himself was tired and injured. Roxas had planned on keeping a count record, but hours ago he lost count, which was understandable as he was part of the front line that charged the hill. He knew this wasn't going to be easy, but how could the Vongspawn and Ekind numbers be so strong? Where could they have come from, and how could a force so strong be able to hide in a system controlled by Dark Jedi.

M/CRV Sanguinus

The dead silence of hyperspace was once something treasured by the Sith Warlord, but those days were gone as was the man once known as Robert Sadow. The Sith had not known fear for some time and he would never have foreseen that of all things silence would be the thing that would remind him of what it was like to be afraid. It really wasn’t so much the silence that he feared , it what was lurking in the silence waiting for its opportunity to once again take control of the Son of Sadow.

The darkness of the Corruptor had nearly succeeding in taking over his mind; if not for pledging himself to a new Master and accepting the Mark he would have most likely been just another body the Clan had buried in the Valley of the Lost. The new force bond between the Sith and the Dragon known as Shan Long helped shield him from the psychic attacks of what remained of the traitor Darth Vexatus. But every now and again glimpses of the visions of the three burning stars that had tormented him for so long manage to find a way through when his guard is done or when he is surrounded by nothing but silence.

“Lord Kharon,” Commander Zara broke the hated silence for the Sith, “We have arrived at your requested destination.”


Acheron Castle
Unknown Location

It had been ages since the Sith had visited what he “truly” called home. A place that no one, even those he trusted with his own life, knew anything about. It was one thing to trust his own life to others, but he would not take that same chance with those he cherished. “Aadam!” screamed the one he cherished the most. The Sith winced upon hearing his birth name, only one person knew it and only one person was permitted to use it; his wife.

As she placed her arms around him the Sith wished he could keep her close to him all the time. However he knew the danger she would be placed in and that was an unacceptable risk to take. Too obvious of a weakness for his foes to exploit, not to mention her elegance and beauty were far too much of a distraction for the Warlord to concentrate on his tasks at hand. So he would make a concerted effort to not go so long between visits with his family.

“My dear Lady Bridget,” the Sith Warlord stated with a slight smile, “How are the children?”


Command Center
Mucenic, Tarthos

“Bob!” the Consul of Naga Sadow shouted in excitement at the sight of the missing Son of Sadow. But the Consul’s demeanor quickly changed as the man entering was not the same individual who vanished some time ago.

The Sith Warlord nodded in respect to his Consul, “Greetings Sire, but I’m afraid that Bob is dead and that name no longer means anything to me.” Seeing the confusion in the Consul’s eyes the Sith continued, “I have begun a new journey down a different path then the one I have been following foolishly for so long. During the beginning of this journey, Robert Sadow was weak and unworthy, thus ceasing to exist. Emerging instead was a much stronger and more powerful Sith, a true champion of the Jentaraii.” As the Warlord continued his voice began to echo through the command center attracting the attention of all present, including the Marka Ragnos Quaestor, and making the walls slightly tremble from his anger. “For too long the Disciples of Kressh have gone without a Taral’ari. Since the Betrayer tarnished the title many have believed it to be cursed. My fellow Brothers such as Malik and Manesh have avoided and shunned the responsibility because of this danger, but I will embrace this and use it in the favor of the Discples of Kressh.”

The Sith Warlord headed towards the Command Center exit, “From this day forward I declare myself the overlord of the hidden guardians and Lord Protector sworn to defend the Disciples of Sadow. Robert Sadow is no longer; I have accepted my true Sith heritage and am now Sith Warlord Kharon Daragon.”

Macron Sadow watched as his long time friend exited the Command Center, he sensed and recognized the dangerous influence of the Dragon.

Command Center
Mucenic

Fremoc’s body trembled as he saw what resembled his former master, now as Kharon Daragon. The Templar was, to the say the least upset, that Bob was gone, his people were under attack and he had a battle to win. And nothing would stop him from that goal. Not even his old master somehow becoming someone else, someone different, would stop him from retaking his planet from the Vongspawn. His mind became more focused as he funneled his anger, his sadness through his body, making his reactions, his thinking even faster than they were before

The moment after Daragon had left, Fremoc turned from the display and looked at his Aedile just as a wounded trooper stumbled into the command center. “Lord Pepoi –“

“That’s Commander Pepoi trooper. The only Lord in this room is the Lord Consul,” Fremoc interrupted. “Continue.”

“S-sir, Dark Jedi Roxas is requesting troopers. His comm is broken and sent me as a runner.” The Commander of the ground forces swiveled and flicked the display to Roxas’ position.

“Lord Consul, would you, Jade, and Aisha mind helping the young Protector?”

“My pleasue,” giggled the mad Alchemist. Macron left the command center with the others in tow as they raced to the beaten line.

“Methyas, take the Banner of Revulsion, and head to the absolute front of the line. Make a break for the top of the hill if you can.”

“Yes, my master,” the Miraluka exited the command center as well with the banner and began his march to the front. Fremoc returned back to the display, watching the D:SOG soldiers and the others push their way to the top. He moved the camera so that he could see the other side of the hill where the Night Hawks were fighting.

“I want TIE Bombers on the other side of that hill, they are about to be over run.”

“Yes, sir.” A group of bombers came into the screen and dropped their payload, danger close to the Night Hawks. There was a smile on the Templar’s face for once during the beginning of the campaign.

Out of thousands, only a few hundred remain…

Mucenic
Behind the Enemy Line

Araxis continued to take the troopers forward, battering hard against the retreating Vongspawn. When they learned there was no way out of the pincer, the Vongspawn started to get desperate, and with that desperation, many mistakes started to surface. The Ekind were at least better suited for the pincer, not completely collapsing under the pressure of impending death. Sarconn had gone to get a status update from the other team, because for some reason the comms were going down at random intervals. Being the insane one he is, Araxis had no doubt in his mind that Sarconn would be back.

"Sir, you might want to see this," a trooper said as the immediate area around the Dark Jedi Knight was cleared out by his new blade, "We've got incoming."

"Trooper, I can see the Vongspawn in front of us, they are all that remain, what else could possibly be incoming?" Araxis questioned as he took a look at the transmission quickly. Within moments, a vongspawn launched towards Araxis seeing this as a moment of weakness, however Araxis had kept his mind alert, and as such was prepared. The Trooper relaying the transmission tucked and rolled out of the way, while Araxis took a powerful cross body slash, bearing down all his current anger into one massive stroke of death. Assisting the trooper back to his feet, Araxis finished listening in to the new directive of Commander Pepoi. Queuing up the comm system, Araxis prayed that it worked, "Sarconn, urgent relay, we've got danger close incoming, suggest you notify the others immediately."

"Bombers, near us? Thats crazy! Fremoc has lost his mind!!!" shouted a trooper. Araxis would have none of it however, pushing the trooper across the ground into debris, a loud cracking sound echoed over the sounds of war.

"COMMANDER Pepoi, as it pertains to you troopers, has not lost his mind, he's gaining clarity on this battle and drawing it to a close, the closer we get these vongspawn to the front line, the better chance we have at getting the final strike and ending this battle!" shouted Araxis, "Now push you weak fools, PUSH!"

The deployment team led by Sarconn and Araxis pushed forward, blasters firing with precise strikes, enemy bodies falling left and right. Araxis diced his way through the enemy with blazing speed as he enhanced his muscles via the force. The area around him completely void of life, mainly because he was still adapting to this new sword and it's operation. A bombing squadron on approach could be heard clear as a bell, and it had finally come down to the moment of triumph. Araxis disengaged his saber, and ordered the remaining troopers back a couple of yards so that they would actually survive the blast, while he erected a wall of dark side force energy pushing as many vongspawn and ekind back into the death zone as possible. His only hope was that Master Ekeia and her group had received his relay through Sarconn, and had pushed enough back into the death zone as he and his troopers had. The tie's dropped their payload, loud and flashy, insta-death to anything underneath, screams and the smell of burning. It was, if nothing else, a work of pure beauty. As the bombing approached Araxis' location, he jumped back and cocooned himself in a barrier of force energy to deflect as much of the blast from his being as possible. It drained him heavily, and as such, he was forced to drop to the ground on both knees grasping heavily for breathable air. The troopers surrounded Araxis, waiting to see if anything would come out of the flaming earth that was once in front of them.

"Woo Wee! That was one hell of an explosion wasn't it boys!" Sarconn said as he found his way back to the troopers and Araxis. "Sorry for being late back, had to deal with some scum and brag about the kill count, you alright there Araxis?" Sarconn asked in a gleeful manner.

"Yeah boss, no worries here. Little drained is all," Araxis replied, still getting his wind back, "Mop up duty Troopers, lets do it" he ordered, feeling it necessary as Sarconn was still a little to gleeful with the recent Fireworks. "How did Ekeia's team progress?" Araxis asked Sarconn, getting back to his feet slowly while the troopers advanced carefully into the waste zone.

Mucenic
Tarthos

"Care to join us, Ashura?" asked Macron as he closed his facemask ominously. "Little of the old time fun?"

"Of course," replied the Warlord. His smile was grim. "indeed, like the old days." The Sith's hand
flexed on the hilt of his saber. The old days had been pretty bad. The Vong had been a terror like none other, and Ashura itched to revenge himself on anything reeking of them or their taint.

"Very well then. Ashura, Jade, Aisha, follow me." The Consul mounted a speederbike, gesturing toward his cohorts. "Let's get to Protector Roxas' position and give them some relief. We hit them hard, fast, and fatally. Any questions?"

"Only who is going to get the most kills, Master," chuckled Aisha. "Twenty credits says I beat you."

Jade snickered as Macron replied, his voice eerie from the vocoder in his mask. "I'll take that bet, Apprentice. You are going to be buying my beer tonight wench. Hehe. Now.... We Ride! For Sadow!"

The screaming sounds of the hot-rodded speederbike engines rose high over the sounds of battle below. Higher... higher.... and then the sound of engines broke as the four Equites reached the scene.

Ashura and Macron looked at each other. Ashura spoke mentally. The battlemeld....
Yes.... replied Macron to all four of their minds, reaching out for Roxas as well. Battlemeld.

A vibration began to build as all four Equites leapt from their bikes directly into the fray. As one, they ignited their blades and raised a hand. Macron drew the Sword of Shar Dakhan, using it to empower his already formidable telekinetic might. A tremendous wave of kinetic energy washed out towards the Vongspawn clambering toward Roxas' position.

The wave broke upon the nearest fifty. Their bodies were jackhammered mercilessly by the Force. Limbs flew this way and that, rotten heads squelched like old watermelons too long on the vine, stinking entrails riddled with biots bursting with filth. The shockwave propagated further, knocking down those behind the ones that took the brunt of the telekinetic blast. Macron re-sheathed the Sword and drew his tangerine-bladed lightsaber.

"Take that bitches," chuckled Jade as she licked her lips. The Krath's saber thrummed in her hand as she looked for an Ekind with living blood to slake her thirst. She spotted one and jumped towards it using the Force like a grasshopper on speed. Two swipes of her blade removed it's arms, and she landed with her mouth on it's neck. The Ekind woman screamed as her lifeblood spurted from ther neck, splattering all over Jade's mouth and face. The Ring of Wrath was beginning to affect her.

Aisha took a crouching stance next to Macron. Her Deathhammer blaster punched neat smoking holes in Vongspawn heads and torsos one after the other... zzzap! zzzap! *pop* *splutch* Unlike most Sith Aisha was notorious for nursing a blaster in one hand and a red saber in the other. The Zeltron had been a crack shot with a blaster before she became a Sith. Now she was just plain mean. One blaster bolt hit a male Ekind leader in the crotch, blowing his privates into atomized vapor. He fell with a groan and clutched his charred manhood as his guts spilled from the hole. "Ooo, baby, now that's what I call a hot date," laughed the Sith Warrior. "That's gotta hurt."

Macron and Ashura were like Hell unleashed on Earth. The Sith had fought together many times before.
In fact, they had both killed their share of the Far Outsiders during the Vong War and survived. Fear was useless against Vong-spawn. Instead both men filled their bodies to near bursting with the Dark Side. Rage empowered their blows, and unholy alacrity sped their limbs. A whirlwind of death had come to reap the Vongspawn and their Ekind masters.

On the Hill
Mucenic


“They're well enough i guess,” Sarconn said as he looked around at the carnage, “save a few troopers that were used as bait.”

Araxis shrugged off the news, he quickly gotten used to the Krath’s way of planning battle. The occasional sound of a blaster bolt echoed in the surprisingly still air, each sound signified a surviving Vongspawn or Ekind had passed into the afterlife. Reports filtered through short ranged comms, apparently the troop strength had suffered sixty percent casualties, and another five percent wounded, but that mattered little to the Hunter.

Stepping forward, Sarconn dusted his robes off, formulating a new strategy in his head as he looked at the battlefield. The area they were in was filled with craters from the many previous explosions, body parts of the enemy were strewn about, moans of the dying seemed to drift with the wind.

“This is almost tranquil isn’t it?” the Knight asked as he walked with the young Hunter, hilt in hand, “Seems like this battle might be getting close to being over.”

“For the sake of my ’sanity’ lets hope not.” Sarconn said followed by another fit of laughter, “ Alright, screw plans. Let’s just wing it, agreed?”

Araxis sighed and shook his head with a slight chuckle, reigniting his lightsaber.

“There ya go champ!” the Krath said as he summoned the Force to fuel his legs, and took off into a sprint up the hill, rushing towards the next big group of Vongspawn, “Last one to the top buys the next rounds!”

Outlying Lands, Mucenic
Tarthos

Methyas stood upon the cusp of the battle, the group of D:SOG troopers standing by him waiting his order as the Lord Consul and his group had charged into the field to help Roxas and the other struggling members of the Clan in the field. He could feel the Night Hawks in their vicious push towards the top of the hill, a bold and aggressive push to sandwich the enemies between each opposing flank. The Miraluka only stood there, watching the flashing lights that dotted the field with an amusement. The varied sizes and colours painting an epic tapestry before the Knight as he heard one of the commandos clear his throat, it was enough of a signal for the Aedile to back out his command, "Defend the standard and push for the top of the hill, reinforce the weak sections of the line and make sure we push these monsters off our land."

The men and woman of the Special Operations Group let out a fierocious roar as Methyas quickly ignited his saber, hearing the standard barer behind him tighten formation as the Aedile prepared to throw himself through the field. Methyas spoke swiftly, but loud enough for those with him to acknowledge him without need for the communicator, "Banner team, stay hot on my tail, we're going to push through the hole in the ranks Lord Consul and his team have made and shoot for the top of the hill. Injuries are high but morale is low, let's put on a show."

His comm chimed repeatedly for each of the members in his team before a quick grin flashed across his face and he bellowed out as fiercely as he could, "For Sadow!"
In a scene that almost depicted that of a classic Holovid, the team moved in a wedge formation with Methyas and his Energy Sword on point and the standard barer with the Banner of Revulsion just behind him. With the group almost screaming at the top of their lungs as they ran towards the top of the hill, the men and women of the Special Operations Group seemed to get a smile on their face at the sight and sound of this balsy group; their fierce cries and charge in the name of Sadow driving them to fight harder.
The numbers had thinned since the Miraluka had been in the field last, the Bombers coupled with the sheer tenacity of the Sadowans and their troops saw to a much larger pile of bodies strewn about the hillside. Smoking craters lined the field before them, causing them to leap and roll where ever necessary to continue their mad dash for the hilltop. With the Force at his beck and call, the Knight launched ahead of the group as they formed a defensive barrier around the banner while Methyas cleaved a neat path through the Vongspawn before coming face-to-face with another Ekind. The creature had a huge smile upon his face as he saw the Knight, only to freeze in confusion as he spotted the strange plasma-blade eminating from his opponent's hand.

Without missing a beat, the Aedile made up the distance between the two and buried the blade in the Ekind's gut before being sent reeling from a brutal hit from one of its Vongspawn. Methyas flew a little, sliding through the dirt nearby with his saber still lit in hand; it had felt like he had been slammed by a tree trunk when it had only been the creature's arm. With a feral roar, the creature stomped towards the downed Miraluka like an angry Bantha. It didn't take a genius to know to get out of the creature's way, the young Knight taking a tough roll out of the way before springing to his feet. With dirt and dust flowing from his clothing, Methyas simply muttered a simple challenge to his unsteady opponent as he flashed his blade out to his side, "Come get some."
As though the creature understood, it hunkered down a little and launched itself at the Aedile again like it had caught on fire. Breathing deeply and staying calm, a sly smile came across the Knight's face as he planned out his assault and escape; a plan that feel through the instant he heard the Slugthrowers scream from behind and the Vongspawn roared out in pain before stumbling helplessly towards its target, a simple sound escaping the Knight before the creature fell ontop of him, "Sh..."

With slight laughter approaching the pinned Knight, the soldiers started pushing the overly large creature off of him. As the Miraluka's head got uncovered one of the flustered soldiers chimed in, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't think you'd get it."
Methyas sighed as the group did the final heave to push the creature from him, "I don't need to see you to necessarily hear you! Let's get moving, a small region left to clear before the top of the hill. Let's move soldiers."
Quickly the group started towards the top again, moving and watching as the formations of enemy soldiers grew tighter and more well knit as they closed on their objective. The general feel about the Knight was much improved from before: the arrival of Lord Consul and his team, Methyas and the banner and the progress of the Night Hawks turning the morale around; giving the men and women of the SOG that extra little push they needed to topple their adversaries.

"Close in! I'm clearing a path!" Methyas cried out as the Banner team closed about him, before the Knight focused quickly, feeling his power building before he pushed his hands foward; a massive wall slamming into their adversaries as the Force itself responded to his call and pounded through the creatures and their handlers before him. As the thin path opened the commandos responded quickly, "Move! Move! Move!"
The group pushed, leaping through the gap as the Vongspawn and Ekind sought to close their gap. Their objective was in their grasp, a smile crossing Methyas' face before an Ekind warrior caught him with a fiercesome roundhouse kick to the back. The Knight collapsed quickly, his saber disengaging as he was thrown on his face with the Ekind quickly upon him. The creature swiftly delivered another kick to the man's gut causing him to double in pain before another kick cleanly clocked him squarely in his head. Everything started spining, he could faintly hear the gunfire of his team around him as he felt another swift kick to his chest quickly knocking the air out of him.

The Ekind stepped away, looking for some sort of blade with which to finish off his wounded prey; a huge mistake. As the Knight coughed viciously to regain his breath his head stopped spinning enough to give him a window of focus, his window of opportunity. With eyebrows furrowing angrily the Knight sought to pull the Ekind's feet out from under him, a sheer beam of anger lancing from his hand to the back of the Ekind's knees. It may not have been a powerful enough attack to destroy anything but the sheer pain the creature felt was enough to make him find the ground without any trouble. With a smile, the Knight slowly worked to his feet, the screams of agony escaping the downed creature as Methyas took in largre breaths to keep his focus, "Fall in! This battle ends here."
He heard his team moving closer, although the Vongspawn and other Ekind kept them from closing with him. It was enough to get the Knight to sigh as his thoughts became focused, "For the love of...Archie! Throw it to me!"

With an almost javlin like accuracy, the trooper tossed the banner and its standard over the enemies and to the Knight's waiting hand. Quickly righting the standard, the Aedile smiled as he made sure he was standing at the top of the hill, a simple phrase escaping the Knight as he lifted the standard high into the sky, "Get off of our land."

Plunging the standard's main support into the ground, a sudden pulse seemed to escape the ground and the banner. Almost as though the Banner had understand the Aedile's thoughts and words, the pulse expanded quickly into a burst. In his eyes, a sudden bubble formed from the base of the standard, grew rapidly and started outwards and looked as though it intended to cover the entire hill. As the bubble rapidly expanded, every Ekind and Vongspawn it encountered seemed to buckle over in severe pain for a moment before being flung a great distance away from the epicenter of the Banner of Revulsion. As the hill grew more and more clear of enemies, Methyas fell to a knee while taking a deep breath and spoke swiftly into his communicator, "Objective attained, hill is secure. Awaiting further orders."

Mucenic
Tarthos

The blood filled her mouth, tasting bitter and dark, the blood memories of Ekind traveling far to fast for Jade to really pick up on, not that she really cared to read the so called life history, or story, of the thing anyway. As the Ekind screamed, the voices doing the same in her mind, constantly screaming that 'he was coming' that 'something bigger was at play' and over all screeching died down. In that moment she realized she had been far to kind in her everyday actives, far to easy going, especially with her final master being the madman experimenter himself. If drinking blood and using her fangs was going to quiet the voices then she was going to allow the blood lust to take over. She released the body, let it fall to the ground and jumped, using the force to empower her legs. spinning to her right she swung her violet blade out, chopping off the head of another spawn. Her eyes scanning the area quickly around them. It was going to take a tiny bit to get fully to Roxas, but she hoped they would be enough of a distraction to maybe ease up on the team a bit.

Aisha made a small sort of grunting noise as she pushed off the ground, her body coming almost to 180 degrees and parallel to the ground as the balls of her feet came into contact with Spawn, knocking the thing off balance enough for her to slice down with her saber, making a nice hole in the abdomen.

Jade looked towards Ashura, it was good to have the man back, he was family to her and both had helped each other through much in the past. She gave him a small salute with the tip of her saber as both spun back around to deal with another attacker. to Jades' surprise the spawn next her took a step back and focused in the body behind it. Slightly confused, and with her fangs itching, she lept towards the thing. Bringing her saber up in an arch from her ankle to her hip she brought it back and punched the thing deep, the tip of the saber going through the creature and coming up in a J stroke, an inch from Macrons face as the madman turned around to deal with the spawn who dared to come up behind him. Jade looked over the spawns' shoulder at him, pulling the saber out from the thing, the look in her pure black eyes was something he hadn't seen come from her before. Could he be rubbing off on his apprentice and making her as mad as the others said he became? As the body was sliced by the tip of the saber on its fall to the ground, Jade swung the blade swiftly to take the head off, letting it fall separately from the body. She grinned "Hey, I have to give your apprentice at least a small chance at hope they won't need to buy drinks tonight."

Macron gave a small smirk as he turned and sliced his saber down low, taking out the legs of another attacker, and as the thing was forced to bow at its knees to him, he punched the thing in the face then sliced his hissing blade cross the right shoulder and down, cutting the body in half at an angle. "I do so love crushing false hopes."

I-7 Howlrunner Guardian 4
Antei Space
Domain of Forgotten Souls
Several Days Before


"Designation Junior, prepare the coordinates I have established, and prepare for the jump to Hyperspace."

A twittering of the response from the astromech scrolled in translation across the small monitor.

"I am aware of the dangers of a jump through the Shroud. Do as I have instructed."

The small vessel shifted in space with ill-noticed discomfort through inertial compensators. The Dragon favored this small craft for some unknown memorial reason. A fond memory of escape and triumph perhaps. A few seconds later, blackness shifted into blackness as the Dark Star faded to unseen. The Master needed no guide, no crystal to navigate. The Shroud was as his own chambers, it was so familiar to him.


Mucenic Plains
Tarthos
Domain of House Naga Sadow



It might have been a scene out of Epic conflict. Blaster shots interspersed with the flashes of lightsabers were scattered across the vast plains of a rather hilly region of verdant Tarthos. The screams of the dying and those engaged in the process could be heard over the din of exchanging firepower. Small enclaves of warriors from both sides jockeyed for superior position, engaged in futile heroics and otherwise gave their lives for a higher purpose unknown to them.

Ashura stood momentarily, lightsaber poised and ready in his hand. He had suffered through so many battles, carried scars into the depth of his soul. Yet fighting for the survival against a species that should have been wiped out three times played into his mind. He almost saw a flash of violet black. It sparked a memory. At that moment, he was away from the center of the fighting. It had shifted in the hurricane winds of war.

He dived into a defensive position, a stray battle shot had barely been deflected on his blade. Macron giggled near him.

"Too close, you're slipping!"

"Shove it." Ashura started to speak another order to nearby soldiers, but his command was cut short by a series of explosions that shook the ground.

"Artillery!" Macron shouted. "How the frack!"

Streaks of light illuminated a legion cresting yet another hill. The native warriors were being supplemented by unforeseen reinforcements. It seemed almost impossibe.

"This could get ugly. Shift forward command to cut into the center" Ashura commanded at adjutant. "Take out the heavy weapons. Stab hard forward."

"Yes sir." The armored man began relaying his instructions.

Over the plains, a storm began to brew almost as suddenly as the air had cleared. Splatters of rain began with light drips over the bloodshed, quickly expanding into a torrential downpour. The ground became slick with mud created of blood and water.

Yet the thunder and lightning seemed somehow unnatural.

Ashura turned in his armored boots to ask of Macron, yet his eyes were averted to the nearby horizon of yet another undulating hill. A violet light could be seen rising as if sunlight or moonlight at the time. It came forward quickly, shining across the battlefield. So incredible was the light, that almost at its apex, the entire war grew silent in wonder.

A man appeared, holding two lightsabers. His eyes could be seen shining with such violet fury, that it was the source of illumination that brightened the sky with its rage. Standing in total violence, several peals of thunder shook the field as if an earthquake.

"No way...." Ashura said.

A voice spoke out of the storm.

"We are the Hurricane. We are Thunder... and we kill!" A voice that reverberated through stone, water, flesh and blood. Many were afraid, even more in disbelief.

The man was joined by two more, even from the distance, those who knew recognized the man once known as Robert Daragon, and the immense form of Eosara Goratis, clad now in black armor that hid his face. He carried a warbanner well known to many standing in the rain. It was the sigil of Shan Long. From behind them, twenty score black armored warriors appeared, electrostaves and heavy blasters at the ready.

"Ave, Ave Domini Draconis! Te morituari salutant est!" The Obsidian Cohort cried in a voice almost equal to the thunder of the Dragon.

"Forward our warriors, forward to death and glory!" The Dragon thundered.

"FOR SADOW!" The Dragon screamed as his army charged forward as a blanket of death through the dark. Chaos and Command had entered the battle.

Sadow Palace
Sepros

The child wailed out in his mothers arms as she tried to smooth him, why he was crying was something Sakura was trying to find out. “Remy, shhhh, tell mummy what the problem is?”

The three year old little boy buried his face into her chest which muffled his cries. It worried her that he hadn’t been sleeping, but then Remulus Sadow was more like his father in some aspects. The auburn haired child clung tightly to his mother.

“Oh baby,” Sakura knew there was so much a mother could do her, and that her son needed his father. Astronicus Sadow, Overlord of Clan Naga Sadow, father to her son. The man she loved. Remulus needed his father.

“Dorn,” Sakura said to the shadows, “please send a message to the Viceroy that his son has need of his father for when he returns, and that I wouldn't distrub him without good reason.” A man clad in black stood out from the shadows into the light. He had been there the whole time and Sakura knew this, that her sons cries would not have drawn just her attention.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied the clone before he turned and left. Sakura turned back to soothing her young son who was still clear distressed about something.

Mucenic Plains
Tarthos

The Dragon had arrived on the scene with an entrance that sent dread into the core of the Ekind. The events which had caused the sacrifice of so many of their brothers and sisters at the hands of Trevarus Caerick and his apprentice Darth Vexatus. Shan Long’s presence brought a mixture of fear and anger to masters of the Vongspawn.

Ashura was dumbfounded as he stared at the advancing Dragon and the men he brought. He heard Macron say something but he was to absorbed to replied. It was only when the Consul shoved him out of the way did he realise that he should have been paying better attention.

“You are getting so old man,” giggled the mad man.

Shaking himself out of it Ashura shifted back into the merciless killer he was know to be. “This is definitely going to be interesting.” Rage filled his core as he reignited his lightsaber and advanced on the shellshocked Ekind and their pets.

Mucenic Plains
Tarthos


A scream of agony preceded a loss of a limb.

A howl of anguish accompanied a thrust through an abdomen.

All that was heard were the sounds of terror as the Sith Warlord dressed in all white exhibited the skills and ruthlessness he had acquired in his many years of living in the shadows.

Ekind or Vongspawn; Kharon Daragon paid little mind. Most “things” meant nothing to him and this was much to him like an average person stepping on an ant. In the big picture this day meant nothing but merely going through the motions as he served his Master as the Dragon made another move in one of his sinister games. Daragon was well aware he was but a mere pawn in Shan Long’s game of chess.

Another swipe from Daragon’s blade caused a red flash through the air followed by a deformed head of one of the undead flying through the rain. There was little doubt in the Sith’s mind that the Disciples of Sadow would have dealt with this situation without the assistance of the Dragon and his apprentice. The Disciples of Ragnos had been the strongest of the Clan since before Daragon himself became their leader some time ago. Fremoc had kept things progressing among them and they were living up to their reputation on the battlefield. If not for the vast numbers of the enemy, it would have been short work for the followers of Ragnos.

Sidestepping to his right, while his rain drenched cape clung to his back,, Daragon caught a glimpse of a Acolyte of Marka Ragnos being outnumbered by the Vong Abominations. One had a death clutch to the Disciple’s back while he desperately tried to fight off two others. Making eye contact with the Sith Warlord, the Acolyte gave a desperate look as to plea for assistance. Trudging through the mud, the Sith sprinted in the direction of the Acolyte in danger. Force leaping past the Acolyte, Daragon sliced through the midsection of an Ekind who was about to stab down on a Novice of Ludo Kressh who had slipped on the rain soaked hillside.
Sith Warlord Daragon was now the Overlord of Kressh, sworn to guide and assist them to become again what they had once been. But above that he was their Lord Protector and he would do what was necessary to not fail them.

Fremoc rushed to the aid of his Acolyte who had been ignored by the Sith Warlord. But the Obelisk could not reach him in time as a blunt strike to the Acolyte’s head ended the Disciple of Ragnos’s life.

And Daragon thought, if a few of the Disciples of Ragnos fail to survive in battle, then it would just make the task of Ludo Kressh becoming once again the dominant House in Naga Sadow that much easier.

Fremoc made quick work of the Vongspawn who had ended the life of one of “his” Disciples. Turning, the Templar glared at the man he once thought of as his master.

Outside the ruins of Ragnos Cathedral
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos, Orian System

Emerging into natural sunlight for the first time in more than thirteen years, the leader of the Lost Tribe filled his lungs with the city, his city, his home’s decay. Even two years since its destruction, ash and dust still fouled the air. A thin, boneless creature, some sort of snake, slithered past. It glanced up at him, hissed, a purple tongue lashing in his direction. Its eyes widened at the sight of the figure over his left shoulder—then it slithered off.

Behind Aeratas, Nal Yin tittered. ‘An amphistaff,’ said the Yuuzhan Vong shaper. ‘The Chosen Race, we once used them as weapons.’ His voice sounded somewhat mournful. Aeratas knew how that felt... to lose everything. To see it scurrying away in front of your own eyes.

The amphistaff was not alone. Throughout the clearing outside what remained of the once great Alabrek Castle, dozens of small creatures, serpents, beetles and insects, all scuttled to and fro. Vast, voluminous vines wrapped up the shattered blackstone walls of the Alabrek Tribe’s former home, snapping maws lining their girth, swallowing any oversized fly foolish enough to stray near.

Kar Alabrek had been returned to the Mother Goddess.

On one hand, Aeratas should have resented Nal Yin. It was the shaper’s people who had brought ruin to this city. But also, it was the shaper’s people who had liberated the city from the hands of the darksiders. The... Sith.

Our people will have justice, her voice whispered in Aeratas’s ear. Come to me. Come to me and set our people free!

Aeratas bowed his head and nodded; no doubt behind him Nal Yin was wondering what in the name of whichever gods the shaper worshipped Aeratas was doing. The Yuuzhan Vong, Nal Yin had said they couldn’t touch their gods, couldn’t hear their song. Aeratas didn’t know how anyone could live like that...

Aside for the fact, his people, the Ombi, had been condemned to the same fate.

Yes. Justice had been too long coming. Five thousand years too long. The Ekind—the Cursed Ones—cut off from the Gods, they would show Orian’s descendants the truth. It was a crime against nature that he alone had been born free of Orian's curse.

Aeratas sighed and reached out into the ruined castle before him... he could only feel a few presences. They felt at unease. Fearful. Good. They should be scared. Across the other side of the planet, their dark masters would presently be dying in their hundreds before the unquenchable tide Nal Yin and he had loosed upon them from the ashes of Kar Alabrek.

To turn their own dead against someone. How vile. The thought almost made him feel disgusted with himself. But the Sith deserved no better than they treated others.

They brought it upon themselves, she whispered again.

That they had.

Aeratas stepped into the gardens outside Alabrek Castle, Nal Yin, the tribe's Elders, and Aeratas’s supreme guard, following him close behind. There were no guards this side of the castle. Not anymore, at least. Up ahead, two Ekind warriors appeared beneath the ruined archway into the north wing, then gestured him and the others to move.

He could feel him nearing her as he strolled slowly, conqueringly across the garden. She called to him from deep inside the castle—reaching for him, longingly, lovingly.

I am coming, my queen. Just a little longer. The Ombi will hear the music again.

Mucenic
Command Center

Fremoc watched as Shan Long and his troops entered the fray. The remaining Vongspawn and Ekind were quickly slaughtered into oblivion as the combined efforts of D:SOG, The Obsidian Cohort, and the Dark Jedi of Clan Naga Sadow. The stress of the battle started to lift off of the Templar's shoulders. The Dark Jedi began to fall back to Mucenic as DSOG and The Obsidian Cohort walked around the area near the hilltop, looking for any straggling, living Ekind or Ghouls.

Macron was the first to return to the command center. "A great battle fought and won by your leadership Commander."

"I couldn't have done this without your help Lord Consul," said Fremoc finally sitting for a moment. His former apprentice walked into the command center, who was given a wave of the finger to the back, where yet another delivery was sent from the Fist of the Dark Brotherhood. The Templar finally stood as his former master with Shan Long entered the unit.

"What the frak do you think your doing not helping your former house members?" yelled Fremoc as he stood up face to face with Daragon. He looked into the eye balls of the man he used to call master, trying to find what used to be that man.

"I did what I thought was the best for my house. One less Ragnosian, means one more advantage for Ludo Kressh."

Anger showed on the Templar's face, and was about to punch Daragon in the face but was pushed backwards several yards. Shan Long stood between the two staring down the Quaestor of Marka Ragnos. "Who the frak are you?"

"We are Shan Long," said the man, his purple eyes glowing vibrantly.

"So, Shan Long returns to House Marka Ragnos after being gone for several years. Just lovely," Fremoc added as he walked back over to the tactical display. "All forces are to pack up to be enroute to Markosian City. Call the Final Way and have them land in a meadow nearby to deploy the armored division. And will someone take all those dead bodies and burn them. I don't want the dead to walk again."

Araxis finally returned with his new armor on, flexing and bending, getting a feel for the new armor. He stood next to Fremoc, "Methyas needs us."

"Great, let's see what he needs then."

Markosian City

The city was falling, sectors were literally screaming. Orian Manor had become the fall back position for all military, keeping the vongspawn back, as well trying to maintain the Tarthosian Government in place. Tie's screamed overhead as the William Corde fired his rifle at the Ghouls.

Good, air support..., thought the Commander of the Governor Security Force. But the Tie turned and fired its lasers at a building in the Black Sector. Frak me side ways! They know how to use our ties!

For whatever it was worth, he hoped that the help from Aeotheran or Mucenic, or Sepros would arrive shortly.

Temple Grounds, Mucenic
Tarthos

Following his leave of the battlefield, Methyas chose to avoid the command tent, the sudden influx of powerful Force users were causing him a bit of a distraction in the midst of trying to save the planet he called home. While they went to speak to Fremoc and potentially swap old war stories, Methyas sought assets with which to retake Markosian City. Out of sight in a small cleared area of the Temple grounds was a fabricated landing zone for the aerial and vehicular assets utilized by the Disciples and their allies. It didn't take long for the Aedile to find what he sought, "Soldier! I'm commandeering these assets to liberate Markosian, speak to the field commander if you need clarification."

The soldier in question was unsure how to respond, standing his ground for a moment purely dumbfounded by the Dark Jedi's statement before shrugging it off slightly, wandering towards the edge of the "vehicular depot" as he knew better than to trifle with the Aedile. The Miraluka had a good feel for technology and military assets without being able to visibly see them, being raised by a Republic commando had its advantages and Methyas quickly started towards a lone TX-130 Saber-class fighter tank sitting in the depot. Leaping into the vehicle, he started it up quickly and started to feel out towards his next objective; a LAAT/c transport waiting on the edge of the depot. The rumbling repulsortank was enough to draw some attention to the Miraluka but with the current state of the surrounding lands and the assault on Mucenic, few people were willing to stop him. Stopping the vehicle just under the winches and clasps of the transport, Methyas found his way out of the vehicle and started towards the cockpit of the LAAT/c when he heard a voice rise up behind him, "Going somewhere without us?"

Methyas turned slowly, already knowing who had followed him before they had spoken up, "Glad to hear you're with me Araxis, decided to bring Sarconn and Fremoc along with you?"
Sarconn laughed for a moment before Fremoc spoke up, "If you can't wait for your orders I might as well come out to the field to make sure you follow them."
The Miraluka nodded quietly as he leapt into the cockpit and fired up the transport's winches to secure the TX-130, the LAAT rumbling quietly as it's systems started kicking into gear before the sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard next to him, causing him to raise an eyebrow, "Might I recommend someone that knows how to fly the thing takes over?"
Methyas chuckled to himself for a moment before replying, "Go for it Sarconn."
As the Aedile leapt from the cockpit, Fremoc chimed in quickly with a slight hesitation in his voice, "So what's the plan?"
A quick smile rose across the Knight's face as he started towards the TX-130 again, "Simple, we fly in there and secure Orian Manor. From there I can secure control of the city via the access ways to the Black Sector and we can co-ordinate combat from the War room safely beneath the surface of the Manor."

With a slight chuckle from the group, Methyas leapt into the tank, before speaking again, "Sarconn can fly this thing easy enough, you two get in here."
With Sarconn securing himself in the cockpit, the other two climbed into the tank with Methyas as the LAAT began to lift off the ground slowly. The group secured themselves quickly before the LAAT screamed off at breakneck speeds towards Markosian City with Fremoc asking a question that was on everyone's mind, "How well can Sarconn fly?"

Can a moderator please remove this post.

Thank you,
Araxis Farron

In the air
In route to Markosian City


The Hunter broke into laughter at the question, taking his eyes off the viewport and looked towards the group via view screen.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to never ask questions that you don’t want to know the answer to?” Sarconn said as he looked into the eyes of the entire group.

“Sarconn! Keep your eyes on the panel!” Araxis yelled, gripping the handrails tightly.

“Calm down, if something was going to happen an alarm would sound.”

All at once a piercing screech filled the entire cockpit, making Sarconn to immediately look around and fumble with the systems.

“What the hell is that Sarconn?!” Methyas asked, and like Araxis white knuckling the handrails.

“That would be an alarm! Looks like we have incoming TIE’s, I’m going to have to take evasive maneuvers.”

“Does he know how to do that?!” Fremoc asked

“Nope!” Sarconn yelled back, then started into a fit of laughter again, “I’m just going to wing it.”

Grabbing the controls, Sarconn pushed the throttle as far as it would allow being within the atmosphere and rushed towards the nearest TIE. The LAAT/c screaming through the air, closing the distance between the two. Alarms sounding within the cockpit warning of an imminent collision, the only thing that was louder was a insane laugh from the pilot.

The TIE rolled out of the way, but overcorrected, and lost control, going into a vicious spin before it finally slammed into the ground. The TIE’s wingmen came around, bearing their weapons, and opened fire. Loud thuds echoed throughout the LAAT/c, but the deflector shields kept any damage from taking hold. Sarconn jerked the controls and lined up another TIE in his sights, then opened fire, his repeating cannon was deflected of its shields, but pushed it into his wingman, who just happened to be flying little too close.

The Hunter then attempted to turn towards the last TIE but in doing so a giant groan vibrated through the LAAT/c, and yet again another alarm sounded telling the young Krath that the grip that held the tank in place has taken too much stress and was weakening. Cursing under his breath, Sarconn turned back towards the view screen.

“Hey guys, we have a problem,” the Hunter told the group, “I can’t shake this other TIE off me.”

“That’s fine, just get us to the LZ.” Fremoc said.

“Yea, about that,” Sarconn said back, like a little kid who has done something wrong, “it seems that in my heroic attempt to get rid of these TIE’s with no training what so ever. I may or may not have caused the grip that is holding the tank to weaken.”

“So we’re screwed then?” Araxis asked to no one in general.

“Actually,” Methyas replied, “I think I might have a plan.”

Mucenic Plains
Tarthos
Domain of House Naga Sadow



The young man turned his back on the Dragon, a decidedly bad move. Lost in his own thoughts, issuing futile orders the inexperienced Obelisk felt every muscle in his body tighten. A fraction of a second was all he had to react, and even that wasn't fast enough.

The Dragon raised a single hand, tracing a silver finger down in a subtle gesture. Fremoc doubled to his knees, clutching for the ground as his entire body was wreathed in the most indescribable anguish of sheer pain. His voice was a violent blast of torture, echoing across the plains.

"One such as you shall not dismiss us. You survive at our whim, young one." The Dragon said, his eyes glowing even more vibrantly.

"I understand... my.. my lord." Fremoc choked out. He was desperate to end his suffering "I cry your mercy!"

"There is none." Shan Long said, releasing his anguish. "Stand up, Fremoc Pepoi. Even in our isolation, we know of you."

"Then you know what I have to do. This battle isn't over, even if you and yours charged into the heat of it."

"I am aware of this, young one." Shan Long said evenly, the glow of his eyes fading to a brilliant blue with only a hint of the violet highlights. Fremoc noted the change in his pronouns, unsure how to react. The man... or rather... being... had a notoriously wicked reputation for murder.

"I ask your leave, Master Long to continue."

"Yes of course, merely mind your manners in the future."

"I will"

The Dragon watched him walk away, noting the indecision in the young man's footsteps. After a moment, he turned to Eosara. The man had removed his helmet, allowing the wide mane of wild red hair to blow free in the driving wind and rain.

"Eosara... rally the Cohort, and prepare to move into the city. The task I set for Kappa Cabal... now is the time."

"As you wish." The man replied. "But are you sure that's wise?"

"Probably not... but nothing ventured, nothing gained." The Dragon replied smugly.

Cenota Faciliy
Gamuslag

The shuttle landed on the pad to the entrance of the facility. As the ramp descended onto the pad a figure dressed in a DSOG commander’s uniform walked forward. The young woman looked to be in her mid to late teens and by her stern posture someone who was used to authority. The Togruta walked onwards with her chin held up as one of the guards walked up to her.

“State your business, commander,” he said to her.

“Prisoner transfer. The Governor General has want of him on Tarthos.” She said looking in the coldly in the eyes. There was something at the back of his mind that urged him to let her through and that the papers were in order. “Can I have you identification please, commander?”

“Alpha-19837NPC-Omega-CNS,” she said before looking upwards at the weather, “can we make this quick, the window won’t last for long and I don’t want to be stuck here, not my kind of place.”

The guard scanned her ID which proved to be valid. “Of course Commander Ruoxf, your clearance is valid, this was please.”

The Dark Jedi mentally signed as she feared she might have been Rogue’d, but it seemed someone had kept her on the Clan roll, which of course made this easier. “Tell me, has the prisoner been looked after, I need him able to walk on his own two feet.”

“Yes commander,” the guard replied as they made her way through the complex, this was a time sensitive mission, and there was only one shot at it. The Krath used the methods taught to her get through without any stray questions on why the prisoner was needed.

As they entered A-block her eyes shifted on the cell which she knew the prisoner to be in. A smirk spread across her face as the prisoner looked at her.

“Prisoner-8173, to your feet, now!” The guard barked. “Hands through the bars.”

The man did as he was told as the guard cuffed him. “Don’t worry commander the he wont run off, he needs a drug to keep him alive, isn't that right matey. Also his Force abilities are being blocked.” The cell then opened and the prisoner walked out.

“I hope you get killed out there Su--”

However the guard wasn’t able to finish his sentence as blazing red lightsaber impaled him from behind. The prisoner looked from the dead guard on the ground to the young woman holding the lightsaber.

“Good work Kissai. Do you have the de-inhibitor.”

“Yes Master,” she replied and pulled out a hypospray and injected into his arm.

The man known as Curwen Sunei smiled as the Dark Side slowly returned. “Now, we must acted quickly, you must get the synthesizer, this whole escape plan is useless without that.”

“I understand,” Kissai replied as she make her way with her master in tow to where the synthesizer was kept. The room it was in was guarded by another soldier.

“What happened to your escort, commander?`”

“He needed to go to toilet, something about the Gungan diarrhea virus that going around.” She said innocently.

“I’m going to need paperwork,” the guard said while looking a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t need to see my paperwork,” Kissai said as the Force flowed through her.

“I don’t need to see your paperwork,” the man repeated and then let her in while he kept an eye on the prisoner.

Kissai quickly got what she needed and walked out. The sound of the man’s interior turning to ooze made her to smile as she looked at her master. “Did that make you feel better, Master?”

“Indeed.” Sunei replied as the two of them made their way out. They made it to the entrance when the alarms went off. “Frak!” Kissai cursed as by now the false transfer paperwork would have been found out.

Curwen Sunei and his apprentice make quickly escaped out of the complex to suddenly stop where a Dark Jedi was waiting for them. The young Sith Knight had been assigned to the facility. He stared at Kissai and said, “A-Aleho.”

Memories sparked throughout her mind as she knew this Dark Jedi, she had trained and fought with him, and now he had to die. Aleho Ruoxf was powerless to stop herself from walking forward and quickly striking him with her crimson lightsaber while the Knight was still in shock.

“Good work Kissai, now, onto the shuttle.”

She followed onto the shuttle which after a moment took flight as the security forces arrived on the scene and started to shoot at the shuttle in flight. It was to late, they had escaped. What was more troubling would be the security footage of the escape and who helped the Dark Adept.

---

OOC: This post is really to set up for future stuff. I'm sure the news of the escape will reach the people who need to know. Edit: I've been told this is a run-on arc. This means I shall be using these characters more sooner than I realised, yay!

Focusing Chamber, Fourth Floor, The Temple Bellseph
Antei, Antei System, Within the Shroud, Stygian Caldera

Sitting on the cold, impenetrable stone floor, force and matter, space and time, all coalesced into one infinite river without boundaries or limitations that stretched back all the way to the days of the old ones, and flowed far ahead into futures yet to come. Except, as the obsidian tiles chilled the legs of the steward of the true Sith Empire, he saw nothing but that same impenetrable darkness which had now been haunting him for more than four years.

Beside Astronicus Sadow, Yoni stirred. ‘Your thoughts betray you, my apprentice.’

Tron opened his eyes, his eyelids heavy as if having been closed for days. The focusing chamber was as black as the void of space itself, a maw unto which the truth of the galaxy revealed its face. So the Star Chamber said. ‘How long have we sat here, Master?’ Astronicus shifted, still reassembling his thoughts back to the present. To here. The way of visions had always presented a barrier to him. That was why he had relied on... ‘How long has an answer eluded me?’

An unknown pause stretched as the enigmatic lord of the Star Chamber collected his thoughts. Maybe for a few seconds. Maybe years. Time had ceased to operate after the pair allowed their consciousnesses to ride the currents of the dark side into infinity. Finally, Lord Yoni turned to him and said, ‘Perhaps you are looking in the wrong place.’

Tron frowned. Was Antei not the heart of all things?

‘For the Star Chamber,’ Yoni answered, reading his apprentice’s question even though Tron had not spoken the words. ‘But... your dreams lie elsewhere, do they not?’ There was a slightly whimsical hint behind the Star Chamberman’s words.

What his Master spoke was not untrue. ‘You know where my loyalties rest,’ Tron said.

Yoni elicited a hushed chuckle, although this deep in the nothingness of the focusing chamber no sound would disturb others in meditation, not even if both raged at the tops of their voices. ‘Then you understand where to find answers,’ Yoni said. ‘One simply looks in the right places.’

While it was not an answer, it was more than Bellseph had revealed to Tron on his own.

Briefly, he closed his eyes again, watching the cloud of darkness fall upon all that which he had built the past two decades. He would avert it. There was no question about it. The will of his ancestor would come to pass—as Naga Sadow had shown him all the way back then.

My Clan shall not fall, Tron vowed to himself silently.

And he would take whatever steps were necessary to prevent it tearing itself apart. It had come too close—much too close—when the Dragon and the Betrayer denounced him and the Brotherhood. Tron was no fool. Those wounds lingered still, however much the one now calling itself Shan Long claimed to have now atoned for its crimes.

Sighing, he sunk himself into the rivers of the dark side again, becoming one with the vast cosmos once more. Answers would come. The rifts healed. Lines redrawn. Schisms made whole again.

There would come a unification.

It was inescapable. In the end, all would kneel as one at the foot of the true Sith emperor.

- Mucenic
- Tarthos
- Then

Fremoc walked away from Shan Long, loosening his collar. He motioned towards Araxis, and Sarconn, and the three of them walked away. From across the way, Venator had seen the whole exchange, and he’d never seen Fremoc so rattled from it.

As if the Obelisk Templar knew he was watching, Fremoc turned towards Venator and motioned for him as well. Venator stood up and walked towards them, still limping from his experience on the hill. He’d spent time healing his wounds, and to be honest, he was getting tired of having to do it at all.

“Venator, can you fly?” Fremoc asked as the ex-bounty hunter approached the group. They were eyeballing a LAAT/c that had a hover tank attached to it. It was the kind of thing Venator didn’t honestly want to know about.

“Kinda. It’s more instinct than training really. You want me to fly that LAAT/c?” Venator said, pointing towards the cargo carrier.

Sarconn swatted Venator’s hand down then, with an urgent look on his face. “Don’t draw attention.”

“Uhm, ok, sure.” Venator replied.

“We don’t need you to fly the LAAT,” Sarconn said. “Get one of the Interceptors and get into the city. We need an advance scout. Pack a laser target designator with you. Keep low, keep quiet, and don’t kill anyone unless you have to. We need to know what‘s going on around Orian Manor.”

“Ok,” Venator said, “I’ll be there when you get there.”

- Markosian City
- Tarthos
- Now

Venator stashed the TIE Interceptor not far from the city limits, having flown it so low and fast he couldn’t possibly have been detected. For good measure, he stripped out the command cylinder access point so that it couldn’t be taken and used against them. He slung the target designator over his back opposite the vibroblade, and began working his way towards town.

He kept to the woodline mostly in his approach, moving in through the red sector on his way to the blue. The residential areas left little in the way of cover, but it allowed him to flank the approach of his comrades. As it was getting rather dark, the occupation kept most of the city very dark. It looked like an imposed curfew was happening, which was both useful and not. It was useful because it kept people from seeing him, but if he was spotted, he’d stick out like a sore thumb.

The outlying, wealthier houses tended towards keeping some trees though, so by using an arcing route, he was able to slip towards the blue sector. The only real threat were house pets though, but primal sympathy was one of the first talents Venator ever developed in the Force, aside of his vision of course.

Once he hit the Blue sector though, the environment changed to much taller buildings, and alleyways. The urban jungle, though the wildlife was severely lacking. Mostly it was Ekind leading patrols of the ghouls, marching through the streets like they owned the place, but then again, they did sort of own the place. Overhead, TIE’s screamed, their distinct engine noises drawing attention to their presence well before they arrived.

Venator ducked behind a dumpster while one group of troops passed, watching them move on. They were organized enough, ten ghouls and one Ekind master. From what he’d heard of the Ekind, they were a more barbaric people, this level of organization wasn’t their style, so it looked like somebody was guiding them, somebody with a plan.

“You’ve got to be resistance,” Venator heard from around a back corner of the alley. He pushed his senses out further, and saw two figures talking by a loading entrance to one of the buildings.

“Is this where they meet?” a female voice said, sultry and low. Her presence in the Force was brighter than the male speaker was, but she didn’t seem fully trained.

“It is,” The first speaker said. “I’ve got to check you for transmitters.”

Venator moved closer as they spoke. The first speaker was busy waving a wand across her body while she stood there, arms out wide. “You know those wands aren’t that sensitive, you gonna frisk me after this?” the female voice asked, still low and sultry, causing a definite pause in the actions of the young man scanning her.

Venator marked the location mentally, and slipped away. A resistance movement inside the city was going to be helpful, so long as they could be armed and organized. Something for someone else to take care of, but he was sure the DSOG had people that were trained for that sort of thing.

After he got away, Venator climbed a fire escape and moved by way of rooftops. He’d hear the TIEs long before they’d see him, and there was plenty of cover to take advantage of. It also helped him keep away from the patrols. They wouldn’t be looking for somebody freerunning the roofs.

Venator kept moving, heading closer to Orian manor. It was lower than the buildings around it, but keeping elevated and out of direct line was probably the safer route anyway.

The remaining TIE fighters came in hard and swift, determined to kill anything aboard the LAAT/c and it's cargo. Sarconn did his best to evade, but to no avail, he was not trained for casual flight, let alone air to air combat in a transport. The supports holding the tank in place had begun to weaken, and evasive flying was no long part of the question, at least not to the extent that Sarconn was managing.

"I have a plan" Methyas said over the comm lines, "Sarconn put the LAAT/c into assisted flight mode, and make your way to the tank, on the double!"

"But what about the LAAT/c?" Sarconn asked, craziness stirring in his voice.

"It doesn't matter now, we can't keep going like this" Methyas replied swiftly, the TIEs were on approach again. Sarconn double timed it after setting the proper controls. Entering the Tank, he found Methyas' face glued to a console, analyzing the situation as it unfolded, Araxis sitting patiently next to the weapons system, and Fremoc tied up at the very back of the tanks insides.

"G'day lads! How's the weather in here" Sarconn said, attempting to joke where jokes simply weren't needed.

The TIEs came in on final approach, weapons fired penetrating the hull of the LAAT/c, sending vital systems critical and leading up to a total system failure. Small cracks formed across the hull of the LAAT/c, ruptures as it's innards pushed outward. The grapple clamp, holding the tank containing Araxis, Methyas, Fremoc, and Sarconn finally gave out, dropping the tank just as the LAAT/c exploded. The brilliant flash of hazardous shrapnel ended up taking out one of the TIE fighters who was coming in late for the final kill shot. It looked as if the 4 infiltrators of Markosian had been eliminated, the remaining TIEs came in for the confirmation pass, only to find a tank deployed for ground side combat, chutes open and seemingly unharmed.

"OW!" Araxis said with a loud cussing following, his head trickling blood after the explosion sent him face first into the weapon systems he say next to, "What are the chances, in your expert plan pateesta, that they think we're fried?"

Shoots echoed past the tanks exterior, "I'd say not good" Methyas replied putting his plans into motion.

Fremoc still in disbelief, blood shot eyes, looked around asking questions left and right, "Whats goind on? What was that noise? Where is the transport? Why the hell does it feel like we're falling?"

Sarconn had no choice but to answer first, in his crazed manor, "The LAAT/c exploded, we ain't no longer on there!" he said with a laughter that echoed throughout the tank.

"EXPLODED?! WHAT?! WHEN!!!" Fremoc burst out in anger.

"Recently of course!" Sarconn replied, still laughing.

The TIES came in again, firing at the chutes so that the tank would simple fall at terminal speed and kill anything inside upon impact.

"Methyas, are the top side weapons usable right now?" Araxis asked bluntly, a plan seemingly in the sound of his voice.

"Why yes Araxis, yes they are... lets fire up the old weapon systems!" Methyas exclaimed with a smile on his face.

Araxis cracked open the hatch, grabbing hold of the turret and taking aim at anything flying. With the loud wind screaming around him, he still heard the brilliant charging sound of the turret. "C'MON YOU FILTHY EKIND!!! WHAT YOU GOT BITCHES!! HAHAHAHA" Araxis said almost in a Sarconn ish manner. The turret fired at blazing speeds, putting damage on both fighters. The tank continued to fall through the sky, Methyas' destination still on target. With one final pass of the nearing TIE, Araxis pumped out more shots from the turret, finally mowing it down. The wreckage clipped out a few of the chutes, sending the tank bow first towards the surface of the planet. Araxis was nearly flung out of the tank as it picked up in speed, "Uh Methyas, we've got a huge frakin problem out here!"

Roxas standing around waiting for his orders, was tending to the wound from the Ekind’s blade. The pain was barely there now, but it was going to scarThe wound was finally stitched properly and would not reopen. Suddenly the Protector’s eyes widened with anger and disbelief. He rushed toward the doors of the temple and orders them open. The guard decides to argue, so Roxas reached out with the dark side and Force Pushed the doors open sending the guard flying to the floor. "Next time I say open the doors do it!", Roxas shouted as he ran past.

The Protector headed strait for his private quarters, where he opened a footlocker under his bed. Roxas removed his black armor and his red flight suit, setting them to the side. Reaching into the locker he pulled out golden armor and a black flight suit. The armor was bright and shined like the sun, where as the flight suit and cape where as black as night. He quickly put the gear on, rearmed himself ,with extra ammo and thermal detonators, and left for the flight deck. As Roxas left his room, his gilded armor caught the attention of everyone in the temple, DSOG troopers and civilians alike. They staired in awe as the Mandalorian ran past as fast as he could without using the Force. He had to conserve his energy, he was going to do everything he could to win.

As the Protector approached a Headhunter in the hangar, a DSOG trooper ran toward him shouting, “Sir, I have your orders from Commander Pepoi.” Roxas jumped into the cockpit of the fighter and said, “Tell Commander Pepoi that I am sorry, but I have more important things to take care of.” With that the Headhunter took off with blinding speed heading for Markosian City.

“I can’t believe that he found me, this time he won’t get away. I will avenge my Clan!” the Mandalorian swore to himself as he got closer to the city. As he approached the city he checked his gear, everything was where he would need it. He calmed his mind and reached out with the Force extending his senses looking for his foe.

After the battle, Locke found himself alone as the others congregated together to plan the next phase of the conflict. He waited outside the meeting area, noting that at least one very strong Force user had entered, and Locke didn’t want to get in the way.

As one of the normal DSOG personnel exited, Locke stopped him and pulled him to the side. “Wait soldier, what’s going on?”

For a moment, the man looked bewildered, wondering who Locke was. Oh, right, I’m new. They don’t know me. “Jedi Hunter Locke Sonjie.” Locke slipped an identification card out of a pocket in his clothing and showed it to the soldier. “I’m pretty sure I have a clearance.”

The man briefly looked a little upset; no doubt he was fearful of Force users. “Sir…I…”

“Don’t worry, “ Locke replied, “I fought in the Vong war, I know the value of a life. I’m not going to toss you around like a doll because you didn’t recognize me.”

The soldier looked a little happier. Locke felt waves of relief and then respect emanating from the man. “Right, well, uh, thank you Sir. The Commander just informed the others that Markosian City is under attack. It seems that the enemy has taken the blue zone, and there is fighting in the rest of the zones. The city is a mess!”

“First, I’m just Locke. I don’t have a rank, so call me Locke. I don’t care about that “m’lord” or “Sir” or “Sire” stuff. Second, thank you for the information. Third, do you know of any unused transportation to the city?”

“Ah, yes, S-Locke, “ the man replied, “there is a small shuttle nearby with a speeder bike in its main hold. We use them for search and recover missions outside the cities. Will that work?”
Locke reached out with the Force, feeling into the man’s mind, finding the exact location. “Yes, thank you, you may go about your business.”

“Don’t you need to know where it is?” the man asked.

“Nope, “ Locke answered, before purposefully walking in the direction of the shuttle. It was some ways away from the battle, in a large covered landing area just outside the city, but Locke found it quickly. After a brief conversation with another soldier, Locke was given the access codes and was soon in the air.

If they’re going to forget about me, I’ll just figure this out on my own. It was kind’ve nice not being included in the bigger plan for once; Locke could help as he felt he was able. During the previous battle, his stamina had almost run dry. At the same time, it was an odd feeling; years of fighting during the war had made Locke used to authority over his head.

Slowly and carefully, he piloted the shuttle up and over the temple grounds, in the direction of Markosian City.


Just before the shuttle came within sight of the city, Locke put it down in the wilderness. He didn’t want to alert anyone inside that he was coming, especially if the Ekind and their ghoulish followers had taken over more of it.

After landing, Locke reached out with the Force, feeling over the controls on the main console. He had no idea which one would release the speeder from its berth, but he hoped the Force would tell him. Calmly, the Hunter let waves of the Force wash over the console, closing his eyes. Then, the Force began to swirl around one particular lever. Locke pulled that one with it. Immediately afterward, a groan sounded from the ship and a quiet, droid-voice spoke: “speeder bike deployed.”

Letting go of the Force, Locke sighed and stood up, taking no time in descending the boarding ramp and readying the speeder bike. He recognized the model as a 76-Z, noting with satisfaction that the DSOG had chosen a reliable model. With one last look around, Locke pointed the bike in the direction of the city and was off.

He picked up speed quickly. These bikes had been developed over 30 years prior, and in that time their speed had been enhanced greatly. Locke felt the rush of air pass by him, before deciding it was not enough and pushing the bike well beyond its recommended maximum speed. He held on with the Force, breathing steadily, stabilizing himself and his senses.

Soon the city came into view. Even at this distance, Locke could see holes in the walls here and there, and smoke billowing from live fires in many parts of it. He frowned for a moment as he also saw what looked like a hover tank falling out of the sky. As he got closer, Locke judged by its trajectory that it was heading directly for the manor in the blue zone, and someone was firing from it. Well at least someone’s taking care of that.

Locke would just have to get in the city and assess the damage up close, but he had to find a good spot to enter. The holes in the walls were few; he’d have to find a good one somehow. Once again, Locke relied on the Force. It was always there now; just out of sight, as if waiting for him to draw on. As he let it flow through his body, like a stream of warm water, Locke’s senses increased greatly. He found a darkened hole, one that must’ve been made early in the fighting and had long since been abandoned, and pushed the bike straight for it.

A few seconds later, he was inside, and all around were ruined buildings. Locke immediately slowed and stopped the speeder, guiding it to a small alcove formed by the rubble, where it would be relatively hidden. He got off, and looked around.

This part of the city was quiet. Faintly, the sounds of blaster fire and shouting could be heard far off in the distance. With regret, Locke realized that now the fighting had gone to the streets, and the battle would probably take a long time, perhaps even days of small skirmishes before it was over. Any army that tried to march into this would be devastated by hidden snipers, or traps. They would be an easy target in the streets. Dark Jedi, on the other hand, were perfect for this. They could sneak around, pick off targets as necessary, and were even better than commandos or special forces, given the situation.

Smiling to himself, Locke slinked into the shadows, beginning to move through the burning hulks. He didn’t have a plan, but the Ekind and their minions would all have to be eliminated eventually, and Locke was sure the Force would guide him to an efficient way to help with the battle.

- Markosian City
- Tarthos

Venator rested on the roof of a building across from the manor. He’d spent his time quietly, healing his injuries through the Force, occasionally pushing his senses out to see if the rest of his battle team had arrived yet.

Given what they were probably up against, Venator had a feeling it was going to be a while, but this last time, another presence showed up. It wasn’t deeply familiar to him, but he’d detected it before. At this range of his senses though, he couldn’t make any kind of discernment, so he’d have to get closer.

A TIE screamed past him, forcing him to roll under the climate control unit and wait on it’s passing. He counted out 35 seconds, and the TIE’s wingman flew past on the other half of the cloverleaf pattern. They wouldn’t be overhead again for another 20 minutes.

More than enough time.

Venator rolled out from under the climate unit, kipped up to his feet, and pushed his senses out as he took a flying leap towards the building across the street from the one he was on. Below, there was no patrol, so he allowed himself to sail across before making contact with the other building several floors lower. He skidded against the side of the building before making a Force assisted leap back to the building he’d been on originally, though many floors lower. He caught a window ledge to stop himself before letting go. He fell the next three floors quickly before catching the first ledge up from the street. He stopped himself again, then pulled up hard to vault off, turning a backflip to slow his momentum to land on his feet on the sidewalk.

Venator ducked into an alley quickly, and pushed hard with his senses to locate the new operator on the scene. They were moving too, and fortunately, towards him. The Miraluka darted through some alleys and hid from another patrol as they passed before he crossed the street and went up a fire escape.

From there, it was another few simple jumps before he was almost on top of the next operator. This close, he could make out plenty of details, and even before Locke could visually see the hunter, Venator knew exactly who it was. To be fair, Venator didn’t know much about the man himself, but at the least he knew that he was stalking a friendly.

Below, Locke moved quietly, befitting the training he’d received at the hands of Kreshians, but he was being hunted by a ghost. Locke watched, waited on another patrol to pass, and reached for his heavy blaster. Had it been a pistol or carbine, Venator wouldn’t have caught him in time, but the heavier weapon’s weight made it slow on the draw, and more than enough time for him to jump off the roof to land silently behind Locke. One deft movement and he triggered the safety on the large weapon before putting his other hand over Locke’s mouth.

“If I was here to kill you, I’d have done it by now.” Venator said, his voice very low in Locke’s ear. “I’m a Sadowan, so when I move my hand, don’t yell.”

True to his word, Venator moved his hand and scooted away from Locke. The Bakuran man slipped back behind the cover of a trash canister while Venator ducked into a doorway next to it.

“What’re you doing here?” Locke asked, looking none to happy to have been blindsided by… a blind man.

Venator patted the laser target designator. “I’m forward for a mobile unit. You?”

“Trying to be helpful.” Locke said simply.

“I could use someone on my back.” Venator said plainly. “If you can keep up.”

“I can hold my own,” Locke said, just as plain. It was obvious the two men were sizing each other up.

“Good, just warn me before you light that buzzsaw up.” Venator said, nodding to the repeating blaster rifle. “And until you hear a loud noise from our side, don’t light that thing up at all. Here.” Venator added, handing Locke the Night Hawks standard issue vibroblade he kept hanging off his right shoulder. “Don’t power it up either.”

Locke looked at the Miralukan, not accustomed to dealing with someone close to his height, nor accustomed to trying to look someone in the eyes when they have none. “I’m not inept.” He said, also not accustomed to being spoken down to.

“Didn’t think you were, but you looked ready to unload on that patrol, those TIEs would have vaped you the moment the pilots spotted the flashes. Nobody knows we’re here, needs to stay that way.”

“Let’s go then.” Locke said, tired of sitting in one place.

“Follow me then,” Venator said, and made his way to a fire escape. “We’ve got eight minutes to get cover from the TIE patrol.” He added, feeling the tactile display on his wrist chronometer. He then began to climb, and behind him, Locke began to move too. They had to rush, as another patrol was incoming, but good fortune was with them, as the patrol was coming from behind them. Both men scrambled to the top of the escape, a difficult prospect to do silently, and hit the rooftop as the patrol marched on.

“They aren’t fooling around, are they?” Locke asked, seeming impressed by the level of coordination in their opponents.

“They’ve got somebody calling the shots. Even if I could find them now I couldn't kill them though. Too many guards, I'd have to kill too many. Once there’s active forces here, they’d be distracted, I can get in, make the kill and be out.”

“So we’re just sitting on our hands till then?” Locke said as they leapt from one roof to the next. They hit the top running and leapt again, Locke landing in a crouch and rolling while Venator did a side flip across and slid a short distance before coming back up and running.

On they went, pausing only to take cover from the TIE patrols. While hiding in the open door of a rooftop access point, Venator took the time to mention where he’d seen the resistance meeting, and moreso the Force sensitive woman they’d taken in.

It was going to be a long night at this rate.

- Markosian City
- Tarthos

As the Headhunter entered the city, the Protector was able to pinpoint the exact area that his enemy was hiding. The Headhunter turned in that direction, the engines screamed with a burst from the throttle accelerating toward the center of the city.

As Roxas began whizzing past increasingly taller buildings, he didn’t worry about being detected by the Ekind and Vongspawn, because they would soon know that he was there and that they wouldn’t stand a chance. But his decision turned out to be a bad idea, as they knew that a ship was entering the city. As the Protector flew past an office building a rocket came flying from the roof. Taking evasive maneuvers, Roxas banked the Headhunter left attempting to dodge the rocket, but it was locked on and he couldn’t shake it. The rocket quickly caught up with the ship and hit the right wing, destroying half of it. The Protector tried to keep the ship heading in the direction he needed to go. Alarms began screaming and it became evident that the ship would crash.

Roxas pulled the ejector switch, sending the canopy flying off with a loud bang, and the seat was launched from the ship. Roxas attempted to steer the seat, but to no avail, as the parachute deployed slowing the seat to a safe decent. Another rocket came flying from the roof top. The Protector unbuckled his seat and climbed up, standing on the seat. As the rocket approached Roxas calmed his mind letting a burst of Force energy flow into his legs and at the last second he jumped toward a nearby building.

The rocket hitting the seat produced a massive explosion, the force of the blast propelled the Protector crashing through the glass of the window and sending him into the room. Roxas hit the floor and rolled to absorb the shock from the impact. He quickly viewed the room and seeing that it was empty he ran for the elevator and hit the button sending toward the roof.

Thirteen Kilometers above Markosian City
Markosian City Aerospace, Tarthos

The repulsortank screamed as Sarconn struggled to pull Araxis back into the interior of the vehicle, the heavy assault vehicle falling swiftly towards the city below it. Inside Fremoc struggled to free himself from the neting that his apprentice and the Night Hawk leader had ensnared him in as Methyas stared forward blankly into space; the pressure around him growing as he expanded his reach and sight away from the tank to the surrounding lands. As his focus expanded he narrowed his field of view to the region in front of him, the rapidly approaching ground that threatened to embrace them in a loving death grip. The Knight struggled for a moment as a TIE screamed past, the sound tearing at his eardrums as the Force dancing about the villainous vessel broke his focus briefly. As the sound of the roof hatch slammed shut all that could be heard echoing throughout the interior of the repulsortank was Araxis' complaints, "By the love of all that is....it's fracking cold out there!!"

Methyas smirked for a moment as he started speaking, "Ready the cannons, we'll need to act quickly before we pancake this tank or that pilot learns how to focus on us. Araxis, you should know that Tarthos is a frozen wasteland outside of the city shielding."
Fremoc chuckled for a moment as Sarconn and Araxis leapt forward to the cannon controls; Sarconn speaking quickly, "What's the plan? How do we slow down this infernal tank?"
Methyas smiled briefly as his attention was focused elsewhere, "Sarconn, direct cannons fourty-five degrees port and fire!"

The weapon fired shaking the vehicle to it's core as Methyas' eyebrows furrowed, "Full port and fire!"
The weapon fired again as the air within the tank grew tense, everyone knowing that each second that passed lead them to growing closer and closer to becoming a pancake; Fremoc screaming out quickly, "What the hell are we doing?! Someone let me out of this freaking netting!!"
With another shudder, the TIE coming back around and screaming past the vessel with it's blasters rapidly firing at the repulsortank with strikes clearly striking the weak shielding on the tank.

"We can't keep taking hit's like that Methyas! We need out of here now! What the h*** is the plan?!" Araxis screamed before Methyas spoke up again, "Bring her about fourty-five degrees starboard and hold until my mark!"
The air grew more tense, "Your mark?! Your mark?! What's the plan?! What in the fracking world is the..."
"FIRE!!" Methyas bellowed swiftly, the round firing closely there after with a resounding flash and thunderous explosion as the unsuspecting TIE took the bolt in the middle of it's flight path. The heat and shrapnel from the explosion rocking the tank and severing the last couple of strands tying the vehicle to it's chutes and it's last salvation to hold it aloft.

As the repulsortank shook and heaved forward towards the ground, the screams within the tank grew louder and more vocal amongst the chants of "We're going to die" and maniacal laughter. The only figure within the tank remaining calm was the Miralukan Aedile, his fingers hovering over a control panel next to him as he started mumbling silent words under his breath. As the ground grew larger and larger with the surrounding buildings becoming easier to make out with greater detail, the Knight struck the keys on the console before him quickly; a series that quickly altered the balance and tragectory with the repulsors screaming louder than the sounds of the tank's occupants. The nose of the tank shot up as the base of the vehicle rumbled under the stress of the repulsors pushing against the strain of gravity's relentless pull upon it.

Methyas quickly shouted over the sounds of the screaming repulsors, "Araxis! Divert all power to repulsors and shielding for an overburn and cushion!"
The younger Knight quickly moved without hesitation, not wanting to die as they all felt the looming ground upon them. With a series of presses and chimes the repulsors screamed louder, if that were even possible, as the occupants gripped anything they could around them in a vain attempt to feel secure. With a quick smile and rapid key presses, Methyas struck another series of keys beside him and the repulsors quickly shifted their firing pattern, the nose diving as the vessel returned to a normal holding pattern and the rear repulsors fired in a massive boost; the tank almost bottoming out on the hilltop and hillside as it dove down the hillside of Firefox Hills. The sounds of bodies crashing and crumpling against the shields of the repulsortank as it bolted down the hill and towards the streets of Markosian and towards Orian Manor.

Methyas let out a maniacal laugh and whooping holler as the tank slammed through the creatures before them, a small signal to Araxis causing the young Knight to slow down the vehicle again and returning power to the weapons, "Fire at will and push for the secure zone around the Manor, looks like enemy forces have almost overtaken the capital."
With moral boosted, Methyas could feel the signatures of Araxis, Fremoc and Sarconn lighten with the weapons powering to full; a simple phrase escaping the Aedile's lips as the cannons opened fire with resounding pulses, "For Sadow."

Supply Area, rear
Mucenic Plains
Tarthos



“By the many vile Gods,” mumbled Macron as he showered. While many things about the Dark Jedi life were exciting, many were mundane. It was always good to remember this. “Remember your baseline,” grumbled the madman. “My heart must continue to beat and air must enter my lungs.” It was easy to forget your humanity when you weren’t ‘exactly’ human. Close enough didn’t always count.

The madman stepped from the sonic shower and began to re-don his battle gear with a droid’s deft help. The armor had been sanitized, cleaned and no stench of battle or old sweaty bodies- and especially no insect guts or stench remained. The bits of carcass, dried fluids and dead bodies had been brushed and swished away by solvents from the creases of the suit.

A sweet voice resounded from without the fresher. “Master? It’s time,” came the voice of Aisha Qifaxa. Beside her Jade Sadow looked disgusted and merely grunted in agreement. Aisha had as a Zeltron always been interested in tempting her Master. And it had never worked. Ever. She was Sith battle-meat to be controlled in his eyes, and she knew it deep at heart.

“Ridiculous,” snapped the madman as he exited the tent-sonic shower still retaining a certain reek of sweat and death. Although certain things could be replicated in the field the life of a soldier was tough. And by now it was not unfamiliar to the madman.

General Mononoke had seen quite a few campaigns. Stink was nothing new. It smelled better than dead Sadow people. Seeing their dead faces always broke his heart, although the Sith would never admit that as a weakness. It was more a matter of respect.

“Incoming priority-class transmission,”’ remarked Aisha as she replaced the cell in her Deathhammer blaster.

“Open it,” replied Macron as he replaced the power cells in his light sabers one by one from the fusion battery droid on the floor. It was time to attend to one’s equipment before the killing began again.

“Agent 347 reports that Gamuslag has had a security breach. Curwen Sunei is at large, and apparently Aleho Ruoxf was spotted in later vid-cam searches although in disguise and force-wrapped.”

“Frack,” snarled the madman as he gripped his armor fist and fine-tuned it with a hydro-spanner. “Send a high-priority and triple-coded tap to Malisane. So soon after Sai and I left… I think his suspicions could be slaked there and it may be connected, or at least some questions answered. Contact Ashura and see what he may know respectfully.”

Supply Area, rear Mucenic Plains
Tarthos

Ashura’s eyes were fixed on the video feed that Macron had sent him. The Consul wanted his input on the matter as Aleho had been his apprentice. Isradia knew he young apprentice had been affected by what the Dark Side Adept had done to your all those years ago, but she seemed to have recovered. He only left Sepros and returned to see his family because her initial training had been complete. The fact was Aleho was his!

The Sith noticed she looked. Aleho was taller than he remembered, she definitely had been working out, but what he noticed above all was the darkness in her features. As if she had been somewhere where the Dark Side followed freely. There was only one place he knew of where this had happened to her one.

“Well?”

Ashura looked over to Macron and said, “She must have been hiding in the tombs on the Inos moon, or at least forced to hide there, I thought you had taken care of any ill effects he did to her?” His anger bubbling up.

“I did, but it seemed Sunei must have planted something deep inside her, which must have used a trigger of sorts.” Macron explained.

“So something inside her mind grew from a seed which allowed him to totally control her like this?” Jade asked clearly troubled. “There has to be a way to reverse this?”

“We could always kill her?” Aisha replied.

“Not an option. Aleho is still my apprentice. If anyone has to kill her it would be me, but I would rather kill Sunei, as I’m sure he’s the key to all this.” Ashura responded.

“We can sort this out later. We have somewhere to be remember.” Macron said grinningly as the thought of shedding blood was far too amusing to not show it. The four of them made there way to the speeder bikes.

“I’ve always loved this part.” Ashura said with a little smile. “So what’s the wage going to be this time. I have a keg of rum that I’ll bet I kill the leader!”

“Deal!” Macron replied as there bikes roared and soured off to where the action was taking place.

---

OOC: Post tweaked.

Outside the Great Sadow Library
Beneath the ruins of Ragnos Cathedral
Kar Alabrek, Tarthos, Orian System

Mactavish squeezed his blaster’s trigger and fired off his last round. At the far side of the corridor, the ornately-robed Ekind barbarian held up its palm—and the rifle round dissipated in a greenish ripple of energy. Mactavish lowered his arm and tossed the weapon aside. It was over. He was finished. They’d lost.

Beside him, on either side, bodies of special operations troopers lay prone, unmoving—dead. Up ahead, one female trooper still clutched a hand against her side, a pool of blood spilling out the open wound onto the black stone underneath her. The Ekind leader approached. Then with a flick of his wrist, the poor woman lurched upright, hammered the wall... and fell silent.

The captain tensed, every muscle in his body erupting as he fought the urge to charge the monster. Was it suicidal? Sure. Did it matter? The kriff did anything matter anymore?! But he didn’t. Swallowing hard, closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath, he steadied himself: duty came first. That meant no filthy native making it through this threshold. Nobody was getting into the Archives.

The Ekind appeared to read his thoughts. Its mockingly human-looking face smiled at him. The plethora of jewel-encrusted chains and gold amulets it wore jangled when it raised its hand in a greeting. Filthy beast, Mactavish thought. Behind the Ekind, the lone Vong surveyed the massacre with that sickening pain-hungry lust the captain had been forced to grow accustomed to during the war. All of you. Aliens. Filth! When would the karking scarheads learn to stay dead?!

‘You are not welcome here.’ Mactavish’s voice was hoarse. He knew he only had seconds to live, but he wasn't about to grovel like a coward. ‘Go back to whatever sewer you crawled out of.’

Something flashed within the Ekind’s eyes. Anger. ‘You dare lecture us?’ the barbarian snapped. Its accent was somewhat slurred, betraying an unfamiliarity with Galactic Basic. Yes, these alien natives and the scarheads had a lot in common.

Mactavish grunted a laugh. ‘Yeah,’ he snorted. ‘I do.’

‘Kill this one and be done with it!’ the Vong hissed. The serpentine headdress the scarhead wore writhed, the individual snake-heads snapping at the air as if emulating the Far Outsider’s mood. On second thought, they probably were emulating the alien’s mood.

The lead Ekind didn’t turn round but jerked a hand up to silence the Vong, the many amulets and talismans jingling again, but the barbarian kept its eyes fixed on the captain. ‘My tribe built this castle, outsider.’ While on the surface the Ekind seemed to remain calm, its voice steady, the gem in the back of one of its gauntlets glowed angrily orange. ‘If anyone is not welcome here, it is you and your Sithai masters.’

Built it? ‘Whatever,’ Mactavish replied dismissively. These aliens were delusional. ‘But if you think I’m letting you into our library, you’re mistaken.’

That got a response. The orange sunstone on the alien’s wrist blazed with fire and the Ekind punched a clawed fist in his direction and the air itself suddenly superheated, dissolving to a mist of blinding, red hot plasma; the kinetic force of the surge hurled Mactavish backward into the sealed doorway of the Great Library. He grunted, hearing something in his back snap; but that pain was secondary to the fire ripping across his chest as his chest plate’s surface bubbled, black globules of molten metal rolling down his legs.

Mactavish screamed and everything went white.

-Center of the City

As the Mandalorian reached the top floor of the building he made sure that the silencer was on his NR3S. The doors of the elevator opened he quietly stepped out of the elevator walking in a tactical stance, to be ready for anything. He checked every room on the floor. Noticing that each room was clear, for now, he looked for stairs that lead to the roof.

Roxas finding the stairs began the climb up to the roof top. When he got to the roof he reached out with the Force expanding his senses in search of his foe. When he knew the direction to look, he turned on his rangefinder and looked for him. On a landing platform a couple of blocks down Roxas saw a YT Series Freighter and a tall man wearing a black cloak.

The Protector knew that this was his man, so he marked him with his visor’s tracking system. This would make sure that no matter wear the man went on the planet Roxas would be able to find him. Roxas turned around and headed for the door leading back down.

As he was walking down the stairs he heard a noise from below him, he leaned over the rail seeing two Ekind heading up the stairs. Roxas rushed down to the floor closest and hid in a room until they passed. Then he ran to the elevator, being careful not to be seen. He got in the elevator and took it down to the ground floor.

When it reached the ground floor the elevator doors opened and he saw a group of Vongspawn patrolling the ground floor, luckily he wasn’t noticed. As the Vongspawn disappeared around a corner Roxas snuck by and made out into the street. The Protector trying to stay as quiet as a man in full armor could be, which apparently isn’t very quiet. He headed down the street toward the building his enemy was at. He occasionally ducted down corners and alleyways, and hid in the shadows, attempting to reach his foe without being noticed.

Markosian City
En Route to Orian Manor

"Sarconn drive this sucker!" yelled Fremoc as he cut his way out of his bindings. Why his friend had tied him up and knocked him out cold was beyond him but vowed to punch all three of the members of Marka Ragnos in the face when it was all said an done. The tank lurched forward as it moved closer to the Orian Manor with Araxis on the top turret, firing his gun as fast as the piece of equipment would let him. The Manor was in sight, with several soldiers holding the Governor's mansion. As the tank broke the allied lines, Fremoc yelled to the Jedi Hunter, "Sarconn, stop the tank!"

"Whatever," came the reply from Sarconn as the hover tank stopped before it would slam into the building. The hatch at the rear popped open, allowing the Ragnosian's to exit. They walked towards the line, and approached William Corde who seemed to not have pulled his finger off the trigger to his blaster rifle, since it was starting to turn red from the heat.

"Corde!" yelled Methyas over the loud noise of the GSF firing their weapons.

"Sir!" came the reply, as the Commander pulled his finger off the trigger.

"I need access to the war room in the GSF headquarters downstairs. The Access codes still the same as when the Raptor's were stationed here?" questioned Fremoc.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Sarconn, assist these fine gentlemen and ladies up here." Fremoc followed by Methyas and Araxis bolted to the stairs inside the Manor. The trio bound down the stairs and Fremoc quickly punched the access codes into the system, opening the door. "Methyas get every weapon out of the armory, Araxis get the war room's holograph emitter online and link it with the command unit that's back in Mucenic."

The emitter flashed online, and quickly Fremoc marked that the Orian Manor was secured, but the rest of the city had fallen. His markings immediately were sent to the command unit in Mucenic. "Send a broad message out to the Clan, stating that the Orian Manor is ours and that we need reinforcements ASAP."

"Done," said Araxis as he pressed send on his console, informing the Clan what was going on.

Departing Command Center
Mucenic Plains
Tarthos
The awful howl of the speederbikes moaned over the ground below as they flew along at breakneck speed. Speederbikes were not the best armed, or best armored vehicles. They were very fast and maneuverable however. For a Dark Jedi, this was a natural choice. Using the Force enabled them to react much faster and to be physically stronger than your average person. Just right for a wild ride on a highly modified 74-Z speeder bikes capable of reaching speeds of over five hundred kilometers per hour.

Communication at such speeds normally required helmet mounted comlinks. Or telepathy, if you were a Dark Jedi.

"I feel something," commented Macron. Underneath the expressionless Sith battle helmet, the Mark twinkled for just a second on his brow. Macron felt the essence of the ripples in the Force like plucking at a guitar string. "Something old.... The Force used through those who should not have it. It reminded me of a Nightsister trick in the way it felt.”

Where? replied Jade. The Krath's natural curiosity had been piqued. "Telekinesis."
“Should not have it,” whispered Ashura to himself. “Most likely an object.”

“Master,?” asked Aisha through her comlink. Unfortunately the Zeltron was not the brightest candle in the Book of the Force, as it were. What she lacked in finesse she made up for with enthusiasm and combat skill. "I bet there's a scarhead with them."

"Your grasp of the ovious is deep, Aisha. *chuckle* Change course. We head for the ruins of Ragnos Cathedral," ordered the madman.
"Flank speed."
"Why that blasted wreck?" asked Jade silently. ""If it's an object that's a bit of an unusual situation. Well, and the Library..."

"That is where the burst came from. Dark Side energy, but not that of a Force-user. That of an object... strong and old" urged the Sith Warlord. "And someone loyal to us near death. His soul can hear the Force... although that is not the path he follows."

"I felt it as well, almost like a Sith Amulet", replied Ashura. Let’s go.

All four hot rodded bikes made a ridiculously tight turn, their overdriven inertial compensators screaming in protest. The g-force would have blacked a normal person out, but all four of the Dark Jedi merely grunted. They gunned their engines harder, feet pressing down on the pedals with crushing boots. The engines reached a high-pitched howl as they hit maximum acceleration.

Four pissed-off Darksiders, some of the worst of lot and hell-bent for leather. No one ever appreciates being invaded, especially so soon after the Vong War and Telos incident. Things were about to get very interesting- and soon.