Burden, Distrust, And Loathing - Storyline

Prologue

Part One
by Shaz'air Taldrya

Yridia II was typically quiet compared to its planetary counterparts. While Yridia IX was a crazed metropolis and Yridia IV was like a redneck struggling to adapt to the contemporary world, the capital planet of Tarentum lay unscathed. Its lofty cultural landmarks and its vast seas made it a beautiful place, as its islands rose like flecks of gold on a nearly never-ending tide. On one island in particular, an aristocratic family sat together fishing, revelling in the large catches they made.

Perhaps the people had gone too long without a disturbance. That night, the aristocratic family had all been seriously injured – bitten by some strange creature found on the landscape. When hunters arrived, they found the thing already dead in the grass, its carcass browning in the moonlight. That was the last thing they saw before four more of the beasts, all shedding strangely human garments, decided to feast upon them.

---

The glare from the KrTal sun glazed the horizon as Anubis watched the incoming shuttle prepare to land on the platform before him, the two Lieutenants to standing by his side stood firmly; both soldiers bearing blasters.

Landing silently on its protruding legs the craft landed smoothly, the gold triad-insignia on its bow shone vividly against the sunlight displaying the Naga Sadow emblem with prestige. The main port opened as the suspension ramp fell forward to reveal the Exarch’s lower-half of his body. Anubis glared as the Keibatsu descended from his vessel. Without a word, Taldryan’s Aedile turned on his heel and began at a brisk pace, his robes billowing slightly as he moved.

Tsainetomo glanced at the two armed soldiers briefly then began in the wake of the Sith Warrior, the men behind him following in quick succession.

They made their way through a large array of corridors until they came to an open room with a large viewport overlooking the bustling Taldryan Security Forces below. The same orange-sunlight bathed a tall man, the Taldryan Quaestor releasing a deep breath slowly at the presence of the Sadowian. Reaching towards his hip Shaz’air grabbed a strip of black cloth from his belt and wrapped it around his head, hiding his eyes completely.

The Prelate turned around quickly to meet the guest before him, his Aedile coming to stand at his side. “Tsainetomo, we finally meet together outside of battle. Pity it cannot be a more recreational meeting. I have questions that I hope you will answer, as I do not appreciate my time being wasted.”

“Shaz’air Taldrya,” said Tsainetomo. “I too have questions for you, and I am as eager to receive answers as you are, I assure it.”

“Only a few weeks ago it came to my attention that parties within the Orian system in which Naga Sadow has dominion have become infected a Rakghoul infection…” Shaz’air ended briefly for a breath and continued on. “Shortly after these reports I was notified by my security of an unmarked ship within our regions designated for Karufr , its charts revealing the craft originated from the Orian system.”

Shaz’air stopped for a moment and looked toward the Keibatsu. Surveying his emotions unwavering, the Taldrya continued. “Further investigation found a crate amongst a plethora of other boxes filled with miscellaneous items. Inside this box was a raging beast. Displayed on the side of the box was a very familiar emblem… Are you aware of what emblem that was?”

Naga Sadows Quaestor did not move for a moment, his gaze locked upon the Miraluka before him. A second past and Tsainetomo’s mouth opened, word quickly spilling forth. “After the breakout of this infection, we found where this plague originated from… Much like your story, Taldrya, we too found an unmarked shuttle. Inside was where the Rakghoul had originated from. My intel found a crate eaten and torn apart from the inside out. We recognized the scratches and bite marks matching that of the Rakghouls. We checked the logs in its computer system and found them originating from this very point where I am standing now.”

“I’m sure by now you’ve collected that Taldryan doesn’t stoop so low as to distribute dastardly deeds like that, Sadowian. The marking upon the box was that of House Tarentum, from the Yridia system. Albeit a failed attempt of an attack - as we were able to subdue the beast before it could inflict any damage - we’ve been privy to understand that the Grand Master issued the knowledge on Rakghoul alchemy for the use of Tarentum.”

The Exarch took a slight step forward, his hand raising a little as he began to speak. “We’ve attempted to contact Tarentum, but to no avail. They’ve not been heard from nor seen in many weeks. I have established for a portion of the Naga Sadow war fleet to deploy to Yridia. I will be leading the party there.”

“The Taldryan Fleet has been prepped and ready for departure in the last 48 hours. If what you say is true, then I have no further need to believe Naga Sadow was the driving hand at this. Anubis has heard of Tarentums communication being cut from their end. I feel it necessary to pay Ronovi Tavisaen a visit, don’t you?”

Tsainemoto nodded, hand brandishing one of his lightsabers. Without further hesitation Shaz’air turned to his Aedile who stepped forward to usher the Keibatsu back to his shuttle.

***

Part Two
by Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae

Castle Tarentum was not a place to relax, and it hadn't been for several years. Today was no exception. As a overly energetic Ronovi feverishly stepped into her office, she found Stanson Rend already waiting, along with Scion Altera.

"Any update on the quarantine on the rest of Yridia II?" she demanded as she briskly sat down at her desk, instinctively reaching for a glass of whiskey before realizing there was none there.

"It was done hastily, madam," Rend replied. "But unfortunately, it was not enough to stave off the plague from traveling elsewhere. An infected patient happened to flee in his fighter to Yridia IV, and already we're getting reports of Rakghoul activity along the borders of Messina. However, every other reported victim on Yridia II has been treated or eliminated, if necessary."

"Is the Marquis of Messina supplied with the proper antidotes?"

"Affirmative," the Ethnarc replied. "Anshar has been distributing the serums accordingly, though given the speed that the virus has been traveling, it may not be enough for one person to play doctor."

"And what about Yridia IX?"

"All ship travel has been temporarily stalled due to the emergency."

"It'll definitely bruise the economy for a while," Scion commented, and he was promptly countered with the sound of a fist slamming down on the table.

"I don't give a damn about the economy for now. If everyone becomes a Rakghoul, then there'll be no economy to bruise, now will there?"

Ronovi took a deep breath before rising from her chair. Her fingers traced the shelf where she normally kept her liquor, but surprisingly, she wasn't in the mood to be inebriated today. Maybe the image of screaming civilians as they underwent the hideous transformation to Rakghouls killed any appetite for food or drink.

"Stanson, you are to appear on hologram to the populace to alert them of the problem and ask them to remain calm," the Quaestor ordered. "I want the Reckoners to be on patrol in Eden, as well as Yridian police around the spaceport. If any ship lands, every passenger and crew member must be checked. If there are any victims, they must be transported immediately to the Mystics Asylum, where Bloodfyre and Dr. Steiner will tend to them."

"I never thought you considered the Sinners to be medical employees," Rend remarked sardonically.

"I don't. But for now, they're located where we have everything we need to manage our control on Rakghouls. I trust them," Ronovi said. "Who is responsible for the outbreak, however, is different."

She didn't have much time to think about that, but it bothered her to the point of anger. The reason Tarentum had been granted the power of summoning Rakghouls was because Muz had trusted the dark clan at the time to be responsible with said power. Now someone, or something, had caused an epidemic, and the blame would solely fall on Ronovi as the Prince. And now, as the comm station nearby crackled with static, she knew Muz was not the only one who'd have a bone to pick with her.

"Ma'am, we've just received word of several ships stopping at the Yridian checkpoint. They appear to hold the emblems of Taldryan and Naga Sadow."

"Oh, Hell, what do they want?"

"Answers, apparently. At least, that's what one of the officers reported back."

Ronovi frowned, though she had a sick feeling about why they were here. She looked at Scion and Rend, purposely keeping the transmission on so the officer could hear.

"Prepare the throne room for me," she said. "It appears that we have unexpected guests."

***

Part Three
by Tsainetomo Keibatsu Sadow

Distrust, once taken hold within a heart and mind, is no small thing to shake. It clouds judgment, colors and enlivens prejudices, and gives false strength to belief. It sticks in the back of one’s throat as the abrasively saline aftertaste of the sea air, and Tsainetomo Keibatsu Sadow had felt it ever since he’d disembarked from his shuttle on Yridia II, a suspicion born of brine and bile carried upon an ill wind.

A squad from the Tarentum Army met the off-worlders as they disembarked from their shuttles, their practiced movements and leveled blaster rifles conveying what their faceless helmets did not. The trio, upon being summarily passed off to the professional curtness of a quintet of officers, had little time to savor what could be their last breaths as they were hurried to the craft waiting to speed them towards their audience below the ocean's surface.

Once the short and silent trip to the docking station had been completed, the Sadowan Quaestor followed the Tarentae escort through the stately halls of Castle Tarentum, his Taldryan counterpart beside him. Neither man spoke as the small procession wound its way towards the throne room, choosing rather to save their words for their host. Both the Keibatsu and Shaz’air Taldrya noted the deliberation with which they were led, their path designed to showcase, as subtly as possible, the grandeur that was House Tarentum. Varied busts and tapestries honoring the House’s heroes and victories adorned the ebon corridors, flanking their path as they moved with purpose. For their parts, the visitors played their roles in this, the pomp before the circumstance. Shaz’air walked unerringly forward, direct in his approach and unwavering in his resolve; his Aedile Anubis was as a mirror, uncompromising in his conviction to support Shaz’air. Anubis’ face was locked in a state of perpetual scowl, deepening whenever he happened to glance at Tsainetomo, who made no attempts to hide his universally recognized mane of hair, the bushy queue at the back of his head billowing behind him as if the man carried his very warbanner through the august halls.

Soon, the time for pageantry had passed, the contingent halting at a set of great doors hinting at the splendor that lay beyond. The escort parted and motioned the three Force-users forward, and they complied as the doors swung open into the throne room.

“Finally,” Anubis muttered under his breath. “They've finished stalling. I swear that if I have to see one more tapestry…”

“Lady Tarentae,” Shaz’air interrupted his Aedile, calling out to the figure seated at the centrally located dais in front of them. Anubis, choking back the rest of his complaint, moved at Shaz’air’s unseen signal to join Scion Altera, battle-tested and wise as he was scarred, to the side as Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae rose to her full height from her throne and towards her visitors.

As Tarentum’s Quaestor approached, two things became evident to Tsainetomo: firstly, the halls through which they marched were as a hobo-riddled alleyway compared to the spacious seat of Tarentae power that they now occupied. The walls seemed to be carved of a single, massive henge of obsidian, flawless and preternaturally smooth, and the Dark Side emanated from every corner. It was truly beautiful, and Sai distantly wished that he’d come under different conditions.

The second thing that the Son of Sadow noticed was that Ronovi was easily the tallest woman he’d ever seen, much less met. He’d heard stories of the woman’s stature, both literally and figuratively, but to see her in person was entirely different. He was, for the lack of a better word, impressed.

Standing a full hand taller than he, the Tarentae threatened to loom over both he and Shaz’air, but to their credit, neither man flinched as she drew close and stopped, her striking beauty conveying strength and confidence in both herself and in her position.

The three regarded one another in silence, Miralukan, Epicanthix and Korun meeting peaceably outside of the Iron Throne’s impetus, all three paragons of their respective Houses and assembling as equals. It was a moment of import, and the Quaestors took the time to recognize its significance.

It was not to last.

“Lord Taldrya, Lord Sadow,” Ronovi began, her voice strong and sibilant within the throne room. “Welcome to Castle Tarentum, honored guests.” There was no condescension in her voice, no duplicity in her mien, and Shaz’air appreciated her forthrightness. Tsainetomo merely nodded, a single eyebrow rising to signify his acknowledgement of Ronovi’s recognition.

Ronovi continued. “What brings you to our distant shores, intrepid travelers?” Her professional demeanor belied the storm of emotion beneath her hardened surface; the sooner she could send Shaz’air and Tsainetomo on their way, the sooner she could get the Rakghoul ‘situation’ under control. She did not need this distraction, not now.

“You, Lady Tarentae,” Taldryan’s Quaestor said. A man of very few words, Shaz’air made sure that when he did speak his words held gravity, and judging by the look of resignation that flashed for the briefest of moments upon her face, Tsainetomo knew that the Prelate’s singular pronouncement was grave, indeed.

“Rakghouls, to be more precise,” the Son of Sadow said, picking up on Shaz’air’s cue. “Thanks to the havoc being wrecked on our systems, time and niceties are not luxuries afforded us, Lady Tarentae, so I’ll be brief.” The Tarentae vanguard who were permanently stationed within the throne room were not used to anyone but Ronovi speaking thusly within this, the Sith King’s Hall of Halls, and especially not outsiders. They shifted uneasily at their places at the perimeter of the space, and even Scion’s eye developed an involuntary twitch at Tsainetomo’s words. The Keibatsu noted the sudden change in mood, but he continued, undaunted.

“Weeks ago, I was alerted to an attack in my system involving some sort of animal, one not…indigenous…to the area. Subsequent investigations led me to meet with Lord Taldrya,” Tsainetomo nodded towards Shaz’air, “who regaled me with a similar tale. We both thought that we had been attacked by the other, but it turns out that the beasts originate here. The Throne has entrusted you and yours with this power, and we are here to make sure that an accurate accounting has been made.”

He stopped, his tripartite gaze locked with the singular one of Ronovi’s. She waited for him to continue, but quickly realized that Sai was not going to. Shaz’air stood stoically, saying nothing to refute the Sadowan’s story. Ronovi’s hand itched to be filled with a tumbler full of whiskey, but instead, it instinctively found her ‘saber’s hilt.

Her eyes began to narrow. There was too much surety in Tsainetomo’s tone, and Shaz’air’s silence added conviction. Tarentum was on trial, and the looks on both men’s faces conveyed judgment. Even Tsainetomo’s very word choice reeked of accusation. Attacked. An accounting. Ronovi’s anger began to flare, an ember of disbelief fanning itself into a blaze of incredulity. The tension was palpable, waiting for the spark to set the powder-keg of latent aggression off.

“A moment, Lords and Lady,” Anubis spoke. “Where is the rest of the Sadowan contingent? I don’t think that Tsainetomo is prepared. We should really wait for the good Quaestor’s second to arrive…whenever that may be.” A derisive snort punctuated Anubis’ suggestion, and the man’s arms folded across his chest, satisfaction draped across his face as Shaz’air’s head turned slightly in Tsainetomo’s direction. It was Ronovi’s eyebrows' turn to rise as the unanswered queries in their minds were given voice.

Tsainetomo responded, but his eyes never left Ronovi’s. “Anubis, my cousin Ashia used to be your Master, yes? You seem to have forgotten her lessons, prime of which that as my Overlord wills, so I obey. Wherever threats surface to me and mine, so shall I to destroy them, as long as I draw breath, office or no.” Tsainetomo’s voice was flat as he spoke; it was common knowledge that Naga Sadow had been operating without an Aedile for some time, and now the question of his, and by extention his very House's, fitness to assist had finally been asked.

Tsainetomo’s answer was incendiary, to say the least.

“Besides, the Aedile position is just another chair that anyone could conceivably fill: nothing more, nothing less.” The Keibatsu grinned as he framed his next pronouncement. “I see that Shaz’air agrees wholeheartedly.”

The Dark Side seemed to roar in triumph as Anubis took the bait, a growl tearing itself from his throat as his lightsaber found its way into his hand, yellow plasma eagerly ripping its way from his clenched fist. The palaver disintegrated as the Aediles moved to their Quaestor’s sides, each party distancing themselves from one another.

Shaz’air’s blind eyes scanned the area as his own argent-tinged weapon ignited, the Force whispering possible exit routes and ways to inflict maximum damage even as Anubis stood guard before him.

The cacophony of charging blasters surrounded them as the Tarentae vanguard began to level them at Shaz’air, Anubis and Sai. “You would draw blood within my very House?!” Ronovi roared, her ornate hilt belching bronzed fury even as Sai, the grin still creasing his features, drew his own unique weapon and held it before him. Gifted by the Voice himself, Sai’s lightsaber was two hilts joined at their bases, and the twin emitters birthed identical columns of sunset. His heartbeat pounded in his ears just as it did in the quiet moments before a battle or duel, and an anticipatory stillness had fallen upon the throne room, eagerly waiting to be violently dispelled by the first clash of blade upon blade.

Ideally, Tsainetomo thought, he could probably kill two of them, maybe three if Ferran smiled upon him. He was working out how who would be the first when the unexpected happened.

The seasoned voice of Scion Altera poured out even as a gentle hand alit upon Ronovi’s shoulder. “Ronovi, this solves nothing…”

Tsainetomo gave a start then relaxed, powering down his blades. “Did you hear that?”

Shaz’air, signaling for Anubis to stand down even as his own blade slurped its way back into its housing. “I did, Tsainetomo. He said solves, not proves.”

“Indeed,” Sai said, approaching the Tarentae Summit with measured steps, the Force betraying Ronovi's sudden hesitancy even as she, too, quieted her weapon. The difference in phrasing, though subtle, was distinct, and Shaz’air moved forward as well. So many Dark Jedi clashes were about establishment, of power and of position, but this situation was different; there was a clear opportunity for cooperation before them, if they were wise enough to seize it.

The Miralukan spoke, his words carefully weighed as to not send them back down the abyss.

“Ronovi, what exactly is going on?”

Chapter One

To Kill a Rakghoul
by Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae

If there ever had been the atmosphere of curiosity present within the room of the Obsidian Throne, then it now hovered like a bloated cloud waiting to release a watery storm of confusion and doubt. Ronovi, however, was not keen on being bewildered. In fact, she felt more the opposite; the onset of cruel realization was familiar with her, as she had dealt with complex turn after complex turn of events within her fiefdom. Allowing her saber's hilt to slip back into the confines of her simple belt, she let the blue handiwork below her left eyebrow fall upon her Aedile.

"Scion," she murmured, "I ask that you wait outside with Aedile Annedu. The Tarentae will go with you."

Anubis's lips parted, exposing clenched teeth, but he did not make a sound. Shaz'air's boots had shifted against the floor simultaneously with his Aedile's attempt to protest, as if he would move to strike him should any scorching words erupt from the other's throat. Scion wordlessly complied with his Quaestor's demand, as the many silent Tarentae, though some of them hesitant, trailed behind him in a frosty procession. Anubis eventually followed them, though not without letting a simpering gaze linger like a dirty print on Ronovi before letting the heavy doors bellow behind him as they closed.

The three Quaestors, left alone, did not speak for some time. Their hands had dropped from their belts, their fingers lax and eyes locked in a perpetual stare. Only Ronovi dared to break contact, moving back toward the dais as the empty throne of Khyron loomed behind her like a mindful doppelganger of her King. When she spoke, all manner of courtesy and polished speech had dropped, and her voice dripped thick with sticky anger that threatened to coagulate within her own throat.

"If what you both say is true," she said, "then the problem is greater than we all thought."

"So you are not responsible for the attack?" Tsainetomo asked.

The question disoriented Ronovi, as her fingers danced in the air gesticulating her own confusion. "Not responsible? Of course we're not responsible! Yridia has been crippled far too many times in the past few years for us to even dare anger our Brotherhood counterparts. We're trying to recover, not wage more unnecessary war."

"That still does not explain the ships with the Tarentum crest that we discovered in our systems."

"Did you even look around when you landed on Yridia II?" snarled the Epicanthix, jabbing a finger toward the closed entrance. "Did you not see the influx of soldiers and doctors all around the area? The entire planet has been quarantined. I lifted several travel restrictions just to let your ships in."

It was after the word "quarantined" that Ronovi sensed her fellow Quaestors' recognition of the situation. She was not weak nor foolish with the Force - the sensation of understanding bubbled in both Tsainetomo and Shaz'air's stomachs, and a soft exhalation passed through the former's lips.

"So Yridia, too, has been a victim of the plague," Tsainetomo said. "Long before the ships even arrived at our systems, I assume."

Ronovi felt her palms itch as she bitterly clapped her hands together, her sarcastic applause ricocheting off the richly carved obsidian walls. Shaz'air's lips had stretched into a wispy grin at the young woman's sardonic behavior, as she stepped back down from the dais with her boots harshly scuffing the floor.

"Bravo, my good man, bravo," she hissed. "Now you see what I've been dealing with? Let me inform you right now, both of you, that I first thought that the infestation was a careless mishap, something that would have resulted in a Tarenti getting his face kicked in. Fortunately, however, your arrival has cleared up the situation."

"And what situation is that?" Shaz'air asked, curt as always.

"That we're dealing with a terrorist," replied Ronovi. "Think about it. Rakghouls attack a single island on Yridia II, far from the base where we research and practice our powers. Then both your houses receive a special package from ships marked with my house's crest. Which means one of two things. One is that someone outside Yridia, familiar with Rakghouls, has attacked all of our systems. The other is, though I don't like to admit it..."

"...the possibility that one of the Tarenti has committed an act of treason," Tsainetomo finished for her.

There was no suspicion in these statements, no second thoughts about the honesty of the present leaders' remarks. The Force worked marvelously for these situations, ever capable of divulging the hidden motives of its own adherents. It was in that unified silence, that awkward sense of agreement and unity, that Ronovi moved toward the doors and gestured for the two men to follow.

"I will summon those Tarenti who practice the art of Rakghouls to Yridia II, to undergo questioning," she said. "Bloodfyre will serve as Chamberlain for the trial. Seeing as we only have a few true masters of the art and even fewer who have access to our shuttles, it should be a quick process. As for you, I suspect you will return to your systems, knowing that actions are being taken to bring the culprit to justice."

"Not until we have our man," Shaz'air retorted, and Tsainetomo, eyes unflinching, nodded.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear before. We came here to ensure a full accounting has been made," he said. "And before we depart, it will have been made."

"You'll have to do said 'accounting' yourselves," Ronovi said. "I can't leave here. We have yet to eliminate the Rakghoul plague, and our numbers are thin across our planets. It will take some time."

It was at that remark that the two men in the room nodded in chorus. Tsainetomo approached Ronovi, his eyes slanting upward in order for him to stare into her own.

"Well, then," he said. "I guess the only way for us to pass the time responsibly is to have our men help you clean up."

Chapter Two

All Along the Watchtower
by Tsainetomo Keibatsu Sadow

Shuttle, Designate Unknown
Yridia II Atmosphere

The trio of Quaestors sat in silence as the craft sliced its way towards the whitecaps adorning the vast ocean that spread below them. Though Ronovi initially stated her duties could ill afford her leaving Castle Tarentum, leave she did, investigating and fighting alongside her counterparts as the extent of the Rakghoul menace became more evident.

They had each received reports from across Yridia of their respective units finding success in wiping out masses of the cursed creatures; those heady reports were tempered by the nigh equal number of failures. At the last, Ronovi had taken Tsainetomo and Shaz’air to Yridia IX, home to the infamous Mystics Asylum.

It was also home to maybe its most infamous "scientist", as well. Master Bloodfyre.

So, when Ronovi cautioned the Sadowan and Taldryan leaders to stay at the shuttle, she was not surprised when they politely refused. After all, she would’ve done the same were the Houses’ positions reversed.

Neither was the Tarentae surprised when Bloodfyre voiced his considerable displeasure at being dragged from his studies deep within the Asylum’s bowels. The Dark Jedi Master’s eyes alit upon the outlanders, who regarded him with righteous bravado.

A gentler approach may have saved them the ensuing headache.

Bloodfyre was not one to suffer fools, especially those from without his House’s walls, but he also knew the wisdom in allowing others to risk their safety over the rest of the Tarentae. And so, he opened his mind to the pair, deeming that the quicker they got their so-called ‘proof’, the quicker he could be left alone.

Tsainetomo’s and Shaz’air’s psyches were dragged, kicking and screaming, through Bloodfyre’s memories of the past few weeks…

…they saw the initial Tarenti responding, and falling, to the first of the Rakghouls who emerged out of the accursed darkness…

…they saw the dozens of Force-users who were put none too gently to Bloodfyre’s questioning…

…what they did not see was any treachery on the part of any active Tarenti. Even as they slogged through the Rakghoul Creationists’ muddied minds, Sai and Shaz’air both sensed a profound and almost reverential link to the Dark Side, but not one iota of duplicity.

Now, the Sadow and Taldryan Quaestors each tried to ease the screaming anvils that were their heads and dampen the sensation to a dull roar. Ronovi said nothing at first, instead letting the past hour speak for itself.

“Now that you finally have what you need to get out of your own way, can we please get back to, I don’t know, solving this problem?” Finally loosed, Ronovi’s tongue had not lost any of its acidity since the beginning.

“A squadron reported a downed shuttle on the island we’re heading towards. The IFF transponder says it’s Taldryan.” Shaz’air let his shared intel move the proceedings along instead of taking Ronovi’s bait.

“Have we really the time for a rescue op?” Sai wearily asked through clenched teeth. Since focusing on the martial aspects of the Force, he had been ill prepared for Bloodfyre’s mental tour.

“I’d be curious as to whom we are rescuing myself, Keibatsu,” Shaz’air rejoined, “seeing as how Taldryan has had no ships operating in this sector since before my arrival.”

“In that case, we’d better let our forces know that there is truly a traitor, one operating outside of Tarentum’s jurisdiction, and that we should assist them in finding this menace and terminating it with extreme prejudice.” In following due diligence and revealing the absence of malice in Tarentum’s actions, Sai’s resolve had been strengthened; a new ally needed help, and it was his to give. And he would give it freely…unless there he’d been given a reason to regret his choice.


-=[]=-

Three pairs of boots tramped down the shuttle’s gangway and into the soft sand of the relatively nondescript island at which they’d arrived.

Nondescript, save for the wreckage of shuttles strewn about, with shattered crates and varied transmitting gear mixed in.

Shock resonated within the Force as each one recognized a missing shuttle or a piece of ‘misplaced’ gear, each reported over the past few months but, separately, deemed too unimportant to pursue beyond normal initial investigations. Even more damning were the varied Naga Sadow, Taldryan and Tarentum crests garishly adorning various slats of durasteel.

All around, imprinted in the soft and slightly shifting sands of the area, were the tell-tale prints of the Rakghouls.

“I believe we’ve found our staging area, gentlemen,” Ronovi whispered. “Now the question is, do we wait for our guest to return, or do we go get him?”

Chapter Three

The Messenger
by Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae

The island winds practically carried the three Quaestors across the various splinters and fragments of former transports and equipment, their boots kicking aside various shards of ships that had been turned against them. Even without finally catching the one responsible for the attack, they knew the evidence was clear: Whoever had caused the plague was no ordinary terrorist. The gleaming crests of Naga Sadow, Taldryan, and Tarentum said otherwise, that someone familiar especially with Yridia had attempted to get the houses at each other's throats, tearing at their own flesh in an attempt to cut open the jugular vein that held answers as bloated as blood.

Ronovi felt a swell of pessimism, believing for a moment that they'd find nothing but tracks leading to the other side of the island and straight into the ocean. Still, the trust she could now sense from both Tsainetomo and Shaz'air was relieving, to say the very least.

The Epicanthix stopped suddenly at a particularly large drift of sand, the lip of the land rising sharply against her feet. She felt a slight draft of air as Shaz'air moved beside her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, eyeing Tsainetomo as the Korun placed a hand on his belt.

"I thought I sensed something," Ronovi murmured. "Nothing too big, but still noticeable."

"Why, do you think our culprit is here?"

"If so, either he's ready to welcome us, or he's an idiot." Ronovi's finger coiled around the hilt of her sapphire blade. "And I'm going to play it safe and think the former."

"You sense anything else?" Tsainetomo asked.

Ronovi frowned. "Now that you've mentioned it, I think there's something nearby - "

She reacted only moments before she heard the snarl, ripping her saber from her belt. The bronze fire that the warsword hilt unleashed was enough to sever the flank of an approaching Rakghoul, its face contorted in agony as it stumbled and rolled onto its side. Several more of the beasts were coming toward them, and Tsainetomo and Shaz'air let their sabers light up with white-hot fury as they readied themselves to fight.

Then a soft voice spoke a simple command in Sith, and the Rakghouls stopped and backed away. While they surrounded the three Quaestors, the beasts did not move to strike, though they bared their teeth and let yellow saliva drip down their massive jaws. Ronovi suddenly felt inclined to lower her saber, as she felt a certain wave of calm amidst the wary nature she had held before.

Emerging as if from the sand itself, a stranger strode toward the house leaders, dressed quite plainly in a black robe. With the hood pulled over his face, he looked more like a monk and less like a Dark Jedi, though he was impressively tall and lean and already exuded an aura that Ronovi was somewhat familiar with. However, he was not familiar to her by name but by presence - a noble presence, one the Epicanthix was nearly tempted to bow down to.

"It appears that in the face of conflict, Tarentum may still have some hope," the stranger spoke, as he passed each Rakghoul and stroked its head as if they were pets.

Ronovi opened her mouth to speak, but the voice she heard coming from her throat was more curious than accusatory. "So you're the one who..."

"Started all this ruckus?" the stranger finished for her. "It seems to have gotten your attention, which I wanted most of all. You seemed to have followed all the clues to find me..."

"Silence!" Tsainetomo barked. "I will not stand here and listen to a traitor of the Brotherhood!"

The Korun received a soft laugh in reply. Ronovi turned to look at her allies, and they too had moved away from their offensive stances. The growls from the Rakghouls had grown softer but were continuous, their desire to devour the flesh before them growing all the stronger. However, they remained still, frozen by their trainer's commands.

The stranger continued to walk around the circle of beasts, eyeing the Naga Sadow Quaestor. "I am no traitor, as much as you'd like to believe it. No, I do not come from any house in this Brotherhood of yours, although I have made myself familiar with Tarentum's arts. However, I do come with a mission."

"So who are you?" Ronovi asked, her voice still sounding bewildered.

"An agent," the stranger replied, "sent by someone who is not pleased with your current proceedings. Someone who is unhappy with the way Yridia is being run."

"Who?" Ronovi demanded.

The stranger laughed again. "How very strange," he said. "I would have imagined you would've guessed by now. No matter - I'll let you figure it out yourself."

The racing thoughts in Ronovi's head were almost too much to bear. She felt a sudden obligation to know who had sent this man, and the idea that she could not figure out who it could be brought on a strong sense of disappointment and rage. She could feel Shaz'air and Tsainetomo's own confusion, as Shaz'air fiercely spoke to the stranger.

"If your conflict lies with Tarentum, why get us involved?" he demanded, his question laden with a sharp, simmering tone.

"That is not a question I can answer. I only follow the orders of my lord," the stranger said, keeping his eyes on Ronovi. "But know this, Prince of Yridia - continue your diluted practices as they are, and I will not be the last sent to you. Consider it your first, and final, warning."

"Ridiculous!" barked Ronovi, confidence returning to her voice. "I will not be threatened by a man who talks tough, but has nothing tangible to offer!"

"If that is what you truly believe," said the "agent," "then perhaps you are better off dead."

With those words, he turned to the Rakghouls and spoke two soft Sith words before disappearing into the misty shore. "Zudyti savimi."

"Damn!" Ronovi cried, as the beasts roared and charged into the light of the warriors' sabers with their fangs glistening.

Chapter Four

In Different Tongues
by Shaz'air Taldrya

The wind blew over the bodies of countless Rakghoul corpses at the feet of the three Obelisks warriors, their weapons fizzing into the metallic tubes holstered in their palms. A sense of dry bewilderment was apparent between the Quaetors. So much had been spent in the past week recovering the Yridia system from the vile plague. Multiple operations were distributed between the Houses, their members bearing past barriers that had been held up for years prior. All of it leading the three Quaestors to stand before an enemy who remained unchecked and unchallenged.

Shaz’air reached backward and sheathed his Sapphire blade into the back of his armor, his lightsaber still fumbling in his grasp as he spoke. “Ronovi, what have you been keeping from us that you would remain silent in front of the very terrorist that has nigh destroyed your home?” His voice was stern, yet eager for a response.

Tsainetomo spoke before Ronovi could reply, his hand rising toward Shaz’air to calm him down before continuing. “We’re all surprised of this, Taldrya, even Ronovi. Did you not feel his power? It was not tainted by darkness nor corrupted by light. His sheer power was enough to make us all question our actions…” He let his sentence trail off momentarily. “Ronovi. What did you feel?”

The Epicanthix looked up from her soiled coat and glared into the eyes of the Sadowan, remaining silent for a moment as she collected her thoughts. Her lips began to move with hesitation, “I’ve been tried by one more powerful than I am to test my charisma and power… “

“Ronovi, who was that robed figure? Clearly he was someone you have felt before. Do not spare us any more of your secrets!” Shaz’air bolted out, his voice booming over the rushing winds of Yridia XI.

“The King doesn't speak in just one speech or tongue. He doesn't send out messages often. They're not easy to hear. But today… today, I was given a message directly. If you can decipher this message for me, Shaz’air, then by all means do so!” She did not withhold her agitation. “But if not, may I politely ask you to keep your mouth shut.”

Ronovi turned on her heel and began to head back to their ship's landing zone, her free hand fetching a comm device she brought it close to her mouth. “We’re ready for our carry-away. We’ll be there shortly for pickup.” A confirmation reply rang over the comm. before the Tarenti returned the device to her belt.

“Let us return, brethren, to Castle Tarentum to confirm our victory over this plague and finalize the departures of Taldryan and Sadowan forces from Yridia.” Tsainemoto called forth to his fellow Obelisks.

---

Tsainemoto glanced over at his Aedile, then back at Ronovi. “All Sadowan forces have reported in with their post-battle-speculations. All seems to be in order. Various operations were carried out alongside the Taldryan and Tarentum forces that were seen through to completion. There were casualties in many facilities and strong holds within the Yridia system, but none neither fatal nor un-repairable.”

Shaz’air reached out for the datapad in Anubis’s hand, his eyes scanning over the text on the illuminant screen before him. His head raised slightly towards his Aedile, the Tribune nodding curtly as the two communicated without verbal communication. The Miralukan pressed a curt smile upon his face, his focus turning towards the Epicanthix on her throne. “M’lady, I am pleased to announce a similar outcome from Taldryan's front.”

Scion took a step forward, his voice traveling through the silent chamber as if the force were backing its strength, “Prince of Tarentum.” He addressed, waiting for Ronovi’s direction for him to carry on which she duly allowed. “I coincidingly concur with both Taldryan’s and Naga Sadow’s reports. All known Rakghouls have been exterminated and numerous checks have been made to back up this conclusion. All have come back negative of further Rakghoul pollution. I have requested our security to see the two Houses fleets to our borders as soon as you are ready.”

Ronovi stood to her feet, her boots clicking softly against the hard floor below her as she raised a hand in a form of quasi benediction. “Tsainemoto, Shaz’air… you both have done well in the sight of Tarentum and her keep. We started here, in this very room with our own blades pointed at each other’s necks. Today, I'm proud to stand before you as a proud ally to both the House of Naga Sadow and her followers, and the honorable House of Taldryan. We have conquered more than one battle here, and I pray we may do so in the future…” Her voice fell silent as the two Quaestors silently agreed with her speech.

“Until we meet again, brethren…”

Shaz’air nodded his head towards Ronovi, then tilted his head towards the Sadowan before bringing a black cloth to his temple and tied it around his eyes. Turning around on his heel the Prelate made his way to the large doors leading out of the throne room, his Aedile curtly behind him.

Tsai returned Ronovi’s presence with a short bow, then turned to his Aedile.“Prepare for my shuttle.”