A cesspool of the downtrodden, the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa is home to both the misfortunate and criminals alike. Offering their protection for credits, the criminal organizations that control the sector tax the populace outrageous sums. Unable to provide these fees, refugees are forced to work under hazardous conditions producing glitterstim and adrenals for their overseers. Some of these refugees are addicted to the substances themselves—for which the cartels increase the price of their tithes in exchange for a share of the product.

Crammed with stalls and makeshift hovels, several of the sector’s inhabitants find refuge on the streets and in the alleyways. Those who managed to avoid the dangers of drug production can be found selling their limited and often defective goods to others. Behind these stalls, a selective stock of black market wares is hidden, reserved for mercenaries and thugs.

Littered with garbage, it is obvious that no maintenance droids have been programmed to maintain the sector. The surrounding towers have fallen into decay, bits of debris falling every so often into the middle of the street. The duracrete streets are covered in a film of filth and chemicals from the abandoned warehouses, making movement cumbersome when traveling through the most inhabited areas.

Patrols armed with blasters and vibroswords come through these areas regularly, making a show of force to advertise the merits of their ‘protection’ while extorting the occasional shopkeeper. Screams and shouts are a common enough sound, which is never in the refugees’ best interests to interfere in.

You’ve been tasked with the retrieval of data from a thief who absconded with sensitive information. Not only is this to safeguard the Brotherhood, there’s also a substantial, but little-known bounty on the target, and the goodwill and favor to be earned from the source the data was thieved from. Of course, not everyone will go along with it. There may be those who desire to ensure the thief succeeds, and the source of the data is embarrassed. There are harsh penalties for those who return unsuccessful, and rewards for those who ensure the safe delivery of the information. No matter which side you’re on, you know success is vital.

Warlord Vincent Brujah slowly canvassed the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Dressed in his usual glossy black armor and cloak, the helmet of the Sith’s armor hung on his belt for now. Following closely behind him, monitoring for troubles was Vincent’s IG assassin droid, Frank. Both the Sith and the droid kept their weapons sheathed for the time being. Night had fallen on Nar Shaddaa, and between the addicts and the patrols, there was no need to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves.

Vincent’s long black hair was pulled up into a tight bun. His cloak fluttered in the wind as he stepped along the side of a street, keeping his eyes open for the mark. He had received an encrypted message for the Inquisitorius. Someone had stolen sensitive Brotherhood data, and they were to be taken down by any means necessary.

”This shouldn’t be too complicated” the Warlord thought to himself. ”Tan male, long flowing red hair, perhaps sporting some stubble. Knowing that he’s being hunted should spook him. So we find the anxious ginger and call it a day.”

Squinting his eyes slightly, Vincent searched the cluttered streets beneath the neon hue for his target. Taking him a bit by surprise, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning quickly, he saw that Frank had already drawn a WESTAR-35 and held it to the head of a skittish looking Zabrak.

“Easy! I couldn’t help but notice your armor… you look like a man that could use a death stick.”

Raising his right hand and waving it, the droid reupholstered his blaster. A smirk crossed the face of the Warlord. He spoke back to the Zabrak, waving his hand ever so slightly at his side.

“You have a fine eye for a mark!” Vincent said matter of factly.

“I have a fine eye for a mark!” the Zabrak repeated.

The smirk grew bigger on Vincent’s face, as he continued.

“You don’t want to sell me death sticks.”

“I don’t want to sell you death sticks.”

“You want to give me your whole case.”

“I want to give you my whole case!”

Reaching down behind a stack of boxes the Zabrak pulled out a clear box of death sticks and handed them to Brujah. With a simple nod, the Sith walked away. He opened the case and pulled out a single stick, popping it into his mouth. He then handed the case to Frank.

“Hold onto this, will ya?”

The droid opened a compartment in his chest cavity and placed the case of death sticks inside as he followed his master. Vincent sparked the stick and took a long pull from it. Letting what little anxiety he had within him drift away, he began searching for his target once again.

It wouldn’t be long until he found him. A human, close to his own height but thinner and lankier. His head was covered with a red mop of hair. He appeared to be arguing with the owner of one of the local sales stalls.

”Is he trying to get rid of the data?” the Sith wondered.

The questions would have to wait for now. Brujah tossed the death stick to the curb and grabbed his helmet. He attached the helmet to his armor at the chin and then pulled it over his head with a hiss as it sealed him away from the environment.

The argument ended abruptly as the red haired human threw his hands into the air, seemingly unsatisfied with whatever the conversation had led to. He walked away from the stall and towards an alley. Being careful not to alert him to their presence, Vincent and Frank tailed him.

The alley that the man turned down was dark and appeared empty aside from the heaps of trash on the ground. Using supernatural agility, Vincent rushed him. Waiting until the last moment, as the man heard the footsteps closing in and turned with a shocked look on his face, Vincent ignited his crimson lightsaber. The blade hiss and crackled as it threw sparks.

“Sorry kid, should have been more careful.” Vincent said as he pulled the blade back and swung downward in a slice that would bisect the man.

Before the blade could strike the red headed man down, a snap rang out and a white blade dove in, catching the slice before it could hit the man. Letting out a growl, Vincent turned and found his Clanmate Rasilvenaira StormRaven fighting to hold his powerful swing back. A whir was heard from behind Vincent as Frank spun into action, winding his abdomen until his WESTAR-35 had aim on the man and his DLT-20A had aim on Rasilvenaira. After a brief, but tense moment, Vincent deactivated his saber, allowing Rasilvenaira to do the same, but all the while the droid held his aim.

“Ras… I wish I could say it was good to see you.” a deep voice rang out from within the armor. “If you’re here for the bounty, I’ll split it with you. If you’re here for something else, I’ll have to ask you to step aside and let me handle this before my buddy Frank does.”

“Yeah, I could say the same, Brujah. You need to stand down on this. I don’t care what kind of intel you have, I will not let you harm my apprentice.”

She glanced over at the IG droid, then chuckled as she called out for her own companion.

“Veritas!”

A warning shot whizzed past Frank’s head as Rasilvenaira’s HK droid, Veritas, stepped out of the shadows, blaster rifle primed and ready to take another shot at the other droid’s head.

With the momentary distraction, she glanced over her shoulder at the redhead and gave him a clear look that said “Get out of here, now!”.

The redhead bolted, using the Force to enhance his speed, and soon disappeared into the crowd at the other end of the alley.

Rasilvenaira stood in front of Brujah, saber reigniting as her second saber also snapped to life.

“I can’t let you pass, Brujah, I am asking you to please stand down. But if you won’t, you will have to go through me first.”

Brujah shook his head. “Frank, take care of that HK unit. I’ll handle this. I am sorry Ras, whether he’s your apprentice or not, what he’s done has to be accounted for. I can not just step aside on this one. So I guess there’s only one thing to do.”

He ignited his own saber. Crimson swiftly collided with silver as he struck out at Rasilvenaira’s. She met the strike with crossed silver blades, and pushed back against the crimson blade. Brujah was taller and stronger, but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

She pushed back against Brujah’s blade as hard as she could, and then deactivated her blades as she dove to his right into a roll, quickly coming back to her feet. It let the momentum of his own strength carry him forward as he stumbled a step with the sudden loss of resistance.

Instantly, the world around them went dark, the blackness of freshly spilled ink so thick one couldn’t see their hand in front of their face. Rasilvenaira slowly circled Brujah, silently, like a hunting panther. She concealed herself through the Force, masking her Force signature and presence.

Beyond the circle of darkness, the two droids continued their own battle, with Veritas slowly drawing the IG unit farther from his master. Both had taken minor damage, but their fight for supremacy was far from over and both were equally determined to win.

Within the inky blackness, Brujah braced himself for the attack he knew would come. Saber held ready as he strained his senses to detect his opponent. The sounds from the droids’ battle were distractions he did not need at the moment.

Rasilvenaira drew her twin Nightsister duskblades, still maintaining her silence. She crept in closer, waiting for just the right moment. When she found it, she struck and immediately the blackness around them vanished. She struck for the joints in his armor, one at the hip and one in the shoulder. The strike to his shoulder failed as he’d just started to spin around, but the blade aimed for his hip struck home. The blade sliced through the joint and into Brujah’s hip. Enough to wound but not cripple as she hadn’t been able to get the leverage to go deep enough. But it would still be enough to introduce the poison to his system.

”Damn!” Vincent thought to himself as he felt the familiar burn of poison entering his bloodstream.

Above the two Sith blasters fired as the two droids continued engaging in combat. It wasn’t entirely clear to Vincent which, if either, droid was winning the battle, but he couldn’t be bothered to find out. Rasilvenaira was a threat that he had to take seriously, or he would end up dead on the pavement of this very alley.

Vincent could feel the muscles in his legs begin to stiffen, moreso on his left side where the strike managed to pass through his armor. Even his breath began to feel labored. He needed a plan, before Ras struck again or the target got away. Taking a step back, he began to chuckle to himself.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Vincent, but I’m not finding the humor in this situation.” StormRaven said as the chuckle faded.

“It’s just… you’re so very predictable.” Brujah stated matter of factly. “You may have gotten some of that poison in my system, but am I really your target? Who’s to say that I didn’t expect you to be here, putting your very reputation on the line to save an apprentice that doesn’t know how to follow the rules?”

“Your precognition didn’t save you from that last strike, so again, what’s your point?”

That brought another laugh from the former Quaestor of House Caliburnus.

“What if I were to tell you that this battle and every moment of it was a ploy to call you out and distract you? Better yet… what if my buddy Jaz was instructed to watch from afar and take care of your apprentice while I held you at bay?”

StormRaven’s eyes widened with the realization that she couldn’t protect her apprentice if she was busy dealing with the death machine of Caliburnus.

“No… Jaz isn’t here. I would have sensed him!” she spat back at Brujah.

Vincent grinned widely under his helmet.

“How sure of that are you?” Vincent said with a pause. “Even if I didn’t bring Jaz, the message was sent to every single member of the Inquisitorius. If I don’t take him down, someone else will, and soon.”

He could sense her processing the truth of his words. He could feel the sting that she felt knowing that he was right.

“And what do you think will happen when the Brotherhood finds out that you’ve struck down Inquisitorius members that are simply fulfilling their duty? How do you suppose that will work out for you, Ras?”

The laugh returned.

“Frankly, I don’t know what data your apprentice has stolen… nor do I care. I have a job to do, and if I don’t do it, someone else will.”

Taking a deep breath in and focusing on his next statement, Vincent threw the full force of his skills in intimidation behind his words.

“So let me make this clear, one last time, before I do something that you might not live to regret. Get out of my way, before I get you out of my way. I’m only here to kill one person, but if you keep testing me, I’m happy to make an exception.”

Rasilvenaira’s dark eyes studied Brujah. Her poisons were getting to him, she could see in the stiffness of his movements, though it was also obvious that he was desperately trying to act like they weren’t affecting him. However, much like his talk about Jaz, it was all a bluff.

Rasilvenaira’s position as the new Quaestor of Caliburnus made her privy to many things Brujah now was oblivious to. Jaz had been sent with three other Mandos within the Clan on a special assignment. He was no threat to her apprentice, no matter how much Brujah tried to tell her otherwise. But she would let him continue to think she believed his bluff, for now.

She played a careful game of cat and mouse, a deadly serious game. While normally, she would have already taken the opportunity to slip away, trusting her poisons to slow Brujah down, this time she couldn’t avoid the confrontation. She had an apprentice to protect, and that meant standing against an old friend. But then, on a battlefield, there were no friendships.

The Quaestor shifted into a ready stance that made her answer very clear as she planted her feet. “Sorry, Brujah. I’m not going anywhere, so I guess you’ll just have to come get me.”

Brujah growled under his breath at her, then charged at her. His movements were growing stiffer, less controlled as he lunged forward. She twisted and dropped low, her off-hand dusk blade finding another weak point in his armor- up under his arm. It sliced in, adding a dose of debilitating poison to the inhibiting poison he was already suffering from.

He stuck at her with his saber, she ducked under it, but a few of her hairs were singed by its crimson blade.

In the distance, Frank fired another round at Veritas, who narrowly dodged, before returning fire. “Statement: You shoot like a blind gundark.”

Frank let out a mechanical hiss in return and his torso spun to fire at the HK droid again.

Rasilvenaira smirked as she twisted, and let the darkness fold around Brujah once more. The only sound to be heard other than the droids, was the steady hum of Brujah’s saber. Rasilvenaira sheathed her dusk blades; her best option was to let the poisons work on her opponent. They would slow him down quite a bit soon, and he’d no longer be a threat to her apprentice. His droid on the other hand would be a problem if he got past Veritas. However, she trusted her droid. He could handle the IG unit.

The Warlord sneered beneath his helmet. He once again found himself completely blinded, and now two separate poisons were working their way through his veins. Soon his legs would be rendered useless, and after that… no… he wouldn’t let it go that far. This darkness would soon fade, and he needed a plan for when that happened. He couldn’t see, but he could still feel, and what he felt now was a small crowd gathering near the end of the alley; drawn in by blaster fire and the sounds of lightsabers crashing into each other. Within that group he felt excitement, fear, worry, bloodlust, and something else… something familiar.

Vincent’s instincts told him to rage. To swing wildly with his sabers until he made contact with Rasilvenaira or made her drop her focus enough to bring light back to the world around him. But that’s what she would expect. Instead he took in deep, measured breaths through his nose. He concentrated on undoing as much of the damage that the poison had inflicted on him as possible. It wouldn’t be perfect, and it wouldn’t last long, but it would have to do for now. Once the feeling began to return to his legs, he once again let out a quiet, but deliberate laugh. He could feel the confusion wash over his Quaestor. Holding her concentration on the ball of blackness, she spoke.

“Is there something you find funny about dying, Brujah?” Rasilvenaira asked.

The laugh grew louder.

”She’s behind me and to the left, where she expects me to be weakened… perfect…”

Above him and to his right, the droids continued their faceoff. Bolt after bolt rang out, but both droids were seasoned in battle and had managed to avoid any major damage. Vincent deactivated his sabers, listening closely to the volley of shots above him. Reaching his right arm upward towards the sound of one of the blasters, the Sith reached over with his left hand and pressed a button on his wrist. A sharp “POP!” rang out and a stream of clear liquid shot out of the sphere of darkness and onto the HK unit, followed quickly by a net that wrapped around the droid. After a moment, there was a quiet click from inside the net and Rasilvenaira watched on in horror as the net, her droid, and the droid’s blaster all set ablaze.

“VERITAS!!” the Sith Eternal screamed out.

The blackness disappeared instantly, and as it did Vincent spit with impossible quickness. He raised and ignited the crimson saber in his right hand and swung downward with all of his might. It was only Rasilvenaira’s instincts and a cry from the Force that enabled her to pull one of her sabers into her right hand and ignite the brilliant white blade in time to stop the strike from slicing her down the middle. Vincent never took his eyes off of Rasilvenaira’s, but as he used his weight advantage and strength of his rage to push Ras’ own saber closer and closer to her own neck, he barked an order.

“Frank! Get the ship!!”

The IG droid lowered the cannon in its hand and turned in retreat. Brujah continued doing everything he could to power his opponent’s lightsaber downward, hissing out at her.

“You… don’t… get.. to.. walk… away!”

His heart was racing, his anger had taken full control. For only a moment the Warlord deactivated his saber and leaned backwards away from the upward strike of StormRaven. As she stumbled forward with the momentum of her swing, Brujah reignited his saber and shoved the blade through her right shoulder. She screamed out in agony. The Warlord once again deactivated the saber and took a step backwards allowing the Quaestor to fall to a knee, but something wasn’t right.

Vincent wanted to gloat. He wanted to take her head, and then hunt down her apprentice and take his too, but his anger had only served to push the poison through his system faster. As his concentration had slipped to the fight again instead of protecting himself the effects suddenly became too much to push through. His legs felt like static. His stomach turned. He coughed, and felt the wetness of blood splash against the inside of his helmet. Growling, he raised his right arm to try for the final strike, but his legs gave and he found himself smacking the pavement with his shoulders and neck.

Rasilvenaira stood, her teeth grinding together as she briefly looked up to see her droid still caught within the fiery net. She raised her lightsaber and took aim at Vincent’s neck, but she noticed him fidgeting with a pouch at his side. A familiar hum rang out as a thermal detonator activated.

“Hey Ras? Catch!”

Using every bit of his remaining energy, the Warlord lifted the thermal detonator into the air with an invisible hand and tossed it into the crowd, where he had felt the familiar presence before.

Rasilvenaira hissed in pain as she dropped to a knee, knowing she was vulnerable like that irked her. She quickly pushed herself upright again, though the pain hadn’t eased any from her wounded shoulder. She clipped that saber to her belt, but fortunately, she was ambidextrous, so using her left hand didn’t matter.

She glared at him as she turned and used the Force to extinguish the fiery net enveloping her droid. At his words, though, she turned back and her eyes widened as she saw the thermal detonator arcing toward a crowd of innocent people, including her own apprentice, who stepped forward, defender that he was, and caught the bomb. He nodded to her, and she nodded in return. As he threw the detonator with the Force, she caught it and threw it further down the alleyway, right towards a retreating IG unit that would certainly be caught in the blast.

“That’s for Veritas, you animal. Count on living, Brujah. I plan on sending you the repair bill for this.”

“Afraid I’ll disappoint you on that, Ras.”

“No, you won’t. My poisons aren’t lethal, they just make you wish they were. Nothing personal, just business.”

Brelon came closer and looked at her, ducking his head sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“You are, and you will do better next time. Give me the data crystal and take Veritas to my ship. Brujah and his droid are neutralized for a while. By the time we’re off planet, the alert about you will be cancelled, and the Council will assume all is well. Fools, the lot of them.”

She took the crystal he handed her, and it disappeared into a pocket. “Go on, get Veritas out of here while he can still sort of move.”

She turned and walked over to Brujah, kneeling down beside him for a moment. “You really are good at what you do. Just do us both a favor next time? Stand down when I tell you to. There are things in motion you have no knowledge of, and it is safer for you that way. You’re no longer Quaestor, I am. And I play things differently. You won’t die, but you will be miserable. I really do like you, and I’d hate to have to ever really kill you.”

She stood up and glanced down the alley where the rubble had finally stopped falling. “Not sorry about Frank, though. What you did to Veritas, I do take very personally.”