Selecting Objective 2.

There are some big moments in this fiction, and they will be canon, at least at the personal level, and most likely at the clan level. If you'd like to work this into the macro plot, send me a telegram message and we can talk.

Uses Jar'deon Blazio as main character.

## [OBTJECTIVE #3]

Various coded cylinders and electronic tablets lay scattered across Calindra Hejaran’s desk; the owner of which was leaning into her chair and looking off into space, deep in thought.

Normally, Scholae’s Director of Intelligence wouldn’t really care who the Iron Throne was getting involved with (even if it was a point of interest); but in this particular case, the Collective was being particularly hell bent in squeezing the Iron Throne out of the equation. That in itself, was interesting, but that wasn’t what Calindra was fixated on. No, it was the Principate’s involvement that interested her and the possibilities that such a scenario could open for Scholae.

As it was, the Principate had made an enemy of Scholae when Lucian Niatinus had severed his imperial ties following Palpatine’s death at the Battle of Endor. Having an old score to settle, Scholae’s Director of Intelligence didn’t see them as potential long term allies that she could enmesh in Scholae’s own political intrigues down the road. Calindra couldn’t in good conscience let them ally themselves with the Iron Throne or the Collective either. No, Palpatine exploited alliances and conflicts whenever they arose, whether they had been orchestrated by himself or not, and in this particular instance, a weaker Iron Throne and a weaker Collective would ultimately bring Scholae the greatest rewards down a long road to supremacy. Truth of the matter, if the Iron Throne were suddenly busy with a war on three fronts, Scholae could bide its time and tilt the balance of power at a time of its own choosing. If she was lucky, the Iron Throne might even settle an old score for Scholae without even knowing it.

“It’s finally time to throw the Principate to the wolves,” Calindra said suddenly as she pushed aside the clutter on her desk.

---

## Temnos Excavation Ship - Niatinus

*"Tearl,"* said a small framed woman at the smelting controls as she engaged the comm's transmit button. The heat of the smelting machine made the place hot and stuffy, the air stale with the smell of melting ore.

While the woman was slight in size, her body was strong and and firm, with a muscular build. She sported dirty blonde hair cut roughly just above her eyes in the cut of a lifetime soldier. The most striking things about her, aside her size the sheen of sweat trickling down her uncovered arms were her icy blue eyes, the left overs of her mother's genetic heritage from the slave circles of the outer rim territories.

Today she wore black body armour around torso. Along with her chest armor, shin, knee, shoulder and elbow pads protected her joints, accentuating her muscular arms. She carried a blaster pistol strapped to her hip, her shorts were cut pretty high, and revealed what most gentlemen didn't dare comment on: her rock hard glutes.

*"Tearl,"* she repeated into the comm unit at her left shoulder, her gaze going from unhurried to slightly annoyed at having to repeat herself. *"This is Daci, come in Tearl."* She let go of the transmission button and paced around impatiently as she waited for the mechanic to answer.

The term mechanic didn’t really do the man justice. He was more of an extremely talented savant engineer, or even a machine whisperer. He could recalibrate engines and reprogram droids so adroitly that it almost seemed like he’d hardly done anything at all. The thin, shady-lookin' human with wild wisps of brown oily hair falling over his eyes looked up from his latest puzzle and passed a hand in his greasy mop of hair. If he ever decided get himself cleaned up, he might pass for a Coruscanti noble, until he opened his big trap that is. That's when his thick Corellian accent comes out and leaves no doubt about his lower-class origins, but only the ladies know about his: "Made on Corellia" tattoo.

*“Hold onta yer nickers, girl. Tearl’s only got two ‘ands, both of ‘em deep in this infernal contraption’s wirin’, an ya don’t want me to accidentally invert wheres them wires go ta, now would ya?”*

*“Remember when we were on the Resistance?”*

Tearl was suddenly alert, understanding Daci’s deeper meaning: she noticed an infiltrator. The Resistance had had its share of trouble, because no one had noticed te infiltrator in time, causing a very ill advised descent into a gas giant.

*“Ahhh, yeah... good times that. What’s got ya thinkin’ about that ol’scow?”* he asked, catching her drift.

Daci visibly relaxed, *“Stupid emmiter array, kept going on the fritz. This smelter keeps bugging, the left side is being sluggish.”*

*“Gonna check her out for ya, be with ya in two shakes of a spanner.”*

It took Tearl some will power to only pass his hand through his hair, not to look around him as he was dying to do, and unhurriedly make his way towards Daci. The younger woman wouldn’t have used the Resistance if she hadn’t seen someone who shouldn’t have been there. She didn’t raise the alarm, probably hoping to capture the intruder, so the two pretended to discuss about faulty machinery, pointing and testing it while they discussed a plan.

---

A shadow had crept very near Daci and Tearl’s position, making its way from the back of the ship where the ore extraction and smelting happened, towards the cargo area, slipping between the excavation ship’s various crude ore crates and assorted mining supplies. The shadow remained at a quiet standstill, then when the two had their backs turned, dashed deeper into the ship as other shadows infiltrated the rest of the Temnos excavation fleet.

---

Tearl and Daci had planned to follow their particular shadow and corner it in the piloting cabin, assuming that the intruder wanted to steal the ship and the ore it had gathered, so when they stormed the cabin, weapons drawn, they were surprised to find it empty.

“Tell me, I’m not going crazy... you saw it too didn’t you?” Daci said as she lowered her blaster, eyeing the cabin suspiciously.

Tearl nodded, “Aye, that I did. Sawr’it, plain as day where ya said it’d be. Mayhaps we misjudged its intentions, but we ‘ave the cabin. Watch me back, guv,” he added as sat by one of the consoles and reached for a button. The consoles in the cabin suddenly went dim.

“Tearl! Now isn’t the time to swit...”

“I had nothin’ to do with it!” Tearl cut her off, “I’ve been locked out of the controls!”

The both stormed out of the piloting cabin, and rushed down the access corridor, only to come face to face with the lythe form of a woman in a tight fitting combat suit. Her fiery red hair was cut short, and her face was mared with various cybernetic enhancements snaking down various sections on her face and hands.

Daci was the first to move, only to get a kick in the gutt and for Tearl’s blaster bolts to leave scorch marks where the woman was before. She gave him a rueful grin as he leveled his blaster at her again, only to have her move so quick that she actually circled around the access corridor towards the ceiling and landed between Daci and him. The blaster was suddenly kicked out of his hand as Daci parried several quick jabs directed towards her.

The woman was terribly fast and strong.

Daci took advantage of the intruder’s focus on Tearl to tackle her, but the woman nimbly jumped out of the way by kicking off one of the ship’s bulkheads, and vaulting backwards out of Daci’s path, but she hadn’t expected Daci to bounce back with a similar trick of her own, and landing a boot directly across her left cheek. The woman staggered, some of the cybernetics to short, giving Tearl a rather curious idea.

“Keep’er busy!” he shouted as Daci punched and kicked her assailant. She wouldn’t be able to keep the fight going much longer at te same intensity, she could feel her legs and arms screaming from the effort, practically feeling the blood trickly down her forehead.

The woman was quickly wearing her down, and coming around for another round when Tearl rounded the corner again, odd pistol in hand. He aimed for for the woman’s back and fired, shooting two needle-like prongs at the woman’s back. As they made contact with her, they burried deep into her skin causing her to jump around in surprise.

Suddenly the needle prongs discharged electricity into the woman, sending it coursing through her body, sending her convulsing on the ground as the electricy wrecked havoc on her synapses and circuits.

Daci gave Tearl a puzzles look as she tried to steady herself, sweat and blood trickling down her forehead.

“I’ve always thought it foolish of them collective folks, wearing circuits like that... it’ll always leave’em exposed to shorting more than just their circuits,” he expained with a shrug.

---

The two managed to get the Niatinus back online, only to find out that the rest of the excavation fleet had been sent on a direct course towards the colony’s nova crystal reserves. Despite their best efforts, the colonists never managed to evacutate in time. The excavator fleet had been turned against the colony, leaving death and destruction in their wake, eventually cutting through the nova crystal depot, causing blast that nearly anihilated the half of the colony.

---

“If you were there to help, how is it that your fleet didn’t come to the colony’s defense,“ Mav growled at his Deputy Grand Master.

Evant swallowed, “We’re still looking into that.”

The Grand Master’s eyes became dangerous slits of molten lava, focused intentently on Evant. “You better find a good reason before the Principate starts putting two and two together, because if this alliance falls apart, I’d better have someone else to focus my anger on. Do I make myself clear?!”

“Crystal,” Evant said keeping his eyes downcast.

objective 2 lazy fiction
Hilgrif flipped through several random video feeds from the location of the explosion. A few of the feeds were damaged due to the explosion, but for the most part it was made to look like it was caused by someone loyal to the Iron Legion. Hilgrif spoke in a commanding voice as he called out, “Shroud, do you see any anomalies to disprove the fact that this was done by the Iron Legion?”

Shroud paused for a moment before turning to his Verpine master. “Master, looking at this footage I can see no way to disprove that this was the Iron Legion unless we can find some way to repair the damaged recordings. So Master, we need to find a way to gets these repaired in order to disprove it was the Iron Legion and prove the Collective was actually behind it.”

Hilgrif then turned to his droid and paused in thought for a moment and then turned back to the console and muttered to himself”Why does the Master give such menial tasks when I could be improving the hive?” Hilgrif recalled the debriefing he had reviewed before he began his task. It was using this information that he was to sift through the data that the previous teams had collected after landing on the planet. The data was from a local explosion that destroyed a part of a local city.

The Collective was accusing the Iron Forces of attacking the colony for their fanatic beliefs. But as the Iron Forces had given no such order for any bombings, Hilgrif was given the task of proving the accusations false. Hilgrif shook his head shaking the idle thoughts from his mind and turned his concentration back to the console in order to try piecing together the damaged video files. Hilgrif paused then tried to merge 3 video angles to try making a clearer image. Then with a little extra rendering, he was able to make out the figure who set the bomb was using a mechanical hand to set the bomb.

Hilgrif zoomed in to attempt to make out the hand model to see if it would match up to any models on record as a possible clue to who the bomb setter was. While the hand was being cross-referenced with any on file in the database, Hilgrif was able to piece a few more frames from the videos together from before the explosion. The frames showed 2 people in a speeder exiting the vehicle to check the building the bomb was being set in. When the bomber saw the people coming in the building, he quickly removed his blaster and shot the bomb to trigger it so as to have no witnesses.

Hilgrif swapped to outside video feeds to try to better identify who was in the speeder. The speeder was a security vehicle, and the people getting out of it were speaking. But before Hilgrif could run the clip through the lip reading software, the other monitor beeped saying it had found a match to the hand.

Before he could turn to the monitor Shroud confirmed what he saw,”It seems to be a Collective model previously salvaged from suicide units from the Collective.” Shroud paused then added “But this will not be enough proof as the Iron Forces uses some of these same hands.”

Hilgrif turned to double check the data on the hand and said “At least it’s better than nothing.” Then he tuned back to the video feed monitors to turn on the lip-syncing software. As the software worked, a translation ran along the bottom of the screen. He noticed as one of the security said “Oh look it’s one of those foreigners from the Collective. I wonder what he’s up to in this abandoned build——-.”

The explosion cut off the guards sentence.

Shroud then said “Master I think that is the evidence that is required.”

Hilgrif nodded. “I will transfer this data to the higher ups so they can sort this mess. Then I can go back to working on that battle droid.”

Placeholder submission.

Objective 2: UNCOVER EVIDENCE THAT THE COLLECTIVE IS FRAMING THE BROTHERHOOD

https://docs.google.com/document/d/11xbXIL1kheaHT2c0tOrIwXBKCHcwIKZSE_16gRW5wys/edit?usp=sharing

Objective 3 Chosen

Snapshot: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/13802/snapshots/1756/3302

607 words

Snapshot: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/10388/snapshots/1801/3379

Objective 2: UNCOVER EVIDENCE THAT THE COLLECTIVE IS FRAMING THE BROTHERHOOD

Objective 3: Take advantage of the chaos caused by the attack on Lyra

Link to Gdoc in case you need the more raw contents: https://docs.google.com/document/d/18-UVKPMggWt1EWGyyBb67wbPVtx_oxweZnM0xTTKUJI/edit?usp=sharing

[Objective 2] Malisane Sadow 6169

Temnos Evaculations Mining Facility
Moon of Thillion

It was night. Around the mining facility the ground was mostly quiet, a few Temnos security personnel patrolled in pairs, keeping the peace and staying out the the way of the armoured soldiers of the Collective whose presence was passive but visible enough to make them nervous. They were even more wary around the heavily enhanced agents of the Technocrats who swagged about confidently as if they owned the place. Perhaps they did now?

Has any of the security personnel looked up at the right moment they might have noticed the silhouette of an black armoured figure crouched on top of one of the warehouses. Lieutenant Colonel Senth studied his surroundings curiously, making mental notes of everything he saw and weighing his options. He was grudgingly impressed by the efficiency with which the enemy had moved in and all but taken over the operation here. He glanced down at his datapad and studied the plan of the site, comparing it with the view in front of him for anything new. Finally he saw it. Though most of the collective soldiers were barracked at a large squat pre fabricated building a few hundred metres to the west of the facility, there was a smaller two level structure of similar construction on the site that was clearly their property. Their local site office. His target.

Between the warehouse he was stood on and the other side of the street was a thin pair of pipes that carried recycled air in and out of the buildings. Not daring to use his jetpack in the quiet night air he crouched down and made his way towards the pipe. Then he stopped. At the far end of the building opposite he could make out the armoured figure of a Collective trooper, watching the ground opposite where Senth was intending to go. Slowly He edged across the pipe, hoping no one below was looking up.

He reached the other side and began to move forward silently across the roof, keeping one hand close to the blaster pistol on his belt. The trooper did not move, and seemed to be watching someone moving about on the ground, his rifle held loosely in one hand. Senth moved slowly and as he did he moved his hand slightly and with practised efficiency withdrew the hidden blade from his belt, holding it in his left hand and his finger over he release button.

The trooper still did not sense anything behind him until a black armoured arm wrapped round his neck pulling him down and grabbing his helmet wrenching it up. Grabbing at the arm the trooper struggled until a sharp blade slid into the gap between his armour and into his jugular. As warm blood spurted out Senth slowly lowered him to the ground rolling on his back. Senth held the trooper down until he was dead then looked over the edge. The Technocrat site office was opposite, the main entrance guarded by two troopers and another walking about on the roof. Senth breathed a sigh of relief. The security was not as bad as he had feared.

Slowly he crouched down into a firing position, taking the silenced blaster carbine from his back and sighting along the barrel. The guard on the roof was slightly out of range and he waited patiently, until the man began walking towards the nearest edge. Senth focused on his face and when the moment felt right he fired, aiming his shot to the eye sockets on the enemy's helmet. The guard slumped to the ground, sprawling backwards on the roof. The guards below outside the door had not reacted and stood still. Satisfied Senth replaced the rifle and with a quick glance to the area below he slipped down to the ground.

He quickly darted across the street, his pistol now held in his hand. There was a narrow gap between the Collective site office and the edge of a building his plan identified as the miners canteen. From within there emerged faint smells of food and the sounds of conversation. Senth made his way around through the gap and slowly looked around the edge. A lone trooper was stood facing out into the night. Taking a deep breath Senth sneaked forward and with the same quick movements dispatched him with his blade, then dragged the body back into the gap. Satisfied he walked around the back of the site office. There were two windows on this side, one on each level. Utilising his parkour skills he quickly climbed up to the upstairs window, and keeping a grip with his left he took took the arc welder from his backpack and began his work.

Erok Drook of the Technocrat Guild walked slowly back to the office, ignoring the fearful glances of the mining personnel who passed him giving a wide berth. Behind him two troopers followed respectfully. He was tired but satisfied. In the short time since they had been invited to take over the mining facility he was proud of his teams progress. The quantity of kiber crystals secured exceeded even their optimistic estimates. If all went well by the time the infidels from the Dark Brotherhood arrived they would have completed shipment. He smiled. His promotion was assured following this.

The two troopers either side of the doorway stood to attention as he passed. He ignored them. He glanced down at his clothing in distaste noticing it was dirty and dusty, as was he. He turned to his own guards. “I am returning to my room. I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Yes sir.”
He made his way inside. The interior hallway was simple with lights on the walls and ceilings and several doorways leading off. A staircase lead upstairs which he took. He he walked along the corridor to the room at the end and bent slightly for the scanner to read his retina. There was a satisfying beep and the door slid open and he stepped through.

Inside was his personal quarters, small but functional, a desk at one end, a single bed at the other, and a small shower cubicle. He gave a slight smile when he noticed his favourite bottle of liquor had been replaced on the desk next to a small glass by a thoughtful servant. He quickly undressed, placing his dirty clothes in a bin and taking his robe from the back of the door and slipping it on. It was then he felt a slight draft and looked in puzzlement at the window, noticing a slight gap.

He was just registering this when an armoured glove clutched his throat from behind and an arm wrapped around his body. He struggled, his enhanced limbs fighting against the grip. He managed to twist and faced off against his assailant, a tall figure in black armour. They struggled for a few seconds as he tried to dislodge the grip squeezing his throat, before he was pushed backwards against the wall. He flailed out with his free hand ineffectively striking the helmeted head before his own was smashed backwards against the wall. He continued to struggle until his vision began to dim. He felt himself lowered to the floor.

He awoke a few minutes later feeling the unpleasant feeling of liquid splashing over him and the familiar smell of his favourite liquor. He was naked, and his wrists and feet were tied with his robe belt and what felt like the cable from his viewscreen. The armoured figure was stood over him pouring. After a few seconds the empty bottle was dropped to the floor.

“Welcome back,” the figure said quietly.
“Brotherhood scum,” Erok spat, “are you one of their slaves?”
“Save your insults,” the figure told him, “we have much to discuss.”
“I'll tell you nothing.”
“That would be unwise,” the figure replied, “and do not bother shouting for assistance. You make these buildings well. No one will hear.”
“Do your worst,” the Technocrat spat, “I do not fear death.”
“That is fortunate,” the figure replied, “as you are to die.”
Erok closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Very well. So why would I tell you anything? What difference would it make?”
“The difference is how you die.” The figure produced a small blade in his left hand. “This is the easy way.” The other hand rose holding an arc welder. The figure gestured it towards the trail of the flammable liquor that spread across the floor and covered Erok's own naked body. “There is of course a harder way.”
Evok closed his eyes again. “I see.”
The figure replaced the blade in his belt and took out a datapad, pressing a few buttons until a recording light began to flash. “Now I am going to record what happens next. I would prefer it to be your confession.”

Security Headquarters.
Lyra Colony
The Following Day

Amara Cirrus entered her office irritably and sat at her desk. So far nothing was clear. The Dark Brotherhood attack made no sense to her. Their quick and brutal attacks had served to shake up the populace and the senate but it was a flawed strategy. They had made no obvious territorial gains. And their fleets, conspicuous by their absence, were either reacting slowly or they had another target in mind that escaped her. The facts currently presenting themselves pointed towards their guilt but it was not her job to make quick assumptions, she left that to the politicians.

She glanced up at a polite knock at the door. “Come!” she barked.
The door opened and a servant entered, a human with short, dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was carrying a tray. “I have brought your lunch Sir,” he said nervously without meeting her gaze.
“Put it on the table and leave.”
He nodded. “At once Sir.” He quickly placed it the tray on the table, and then with a bow he scurried out.
She sighed. She was actually hungry. She walked over to the table and sat down, pulling the tray towards her then frowned. The plate was unlevel, and when she moved it there was a datapad under it. Picking it up she noticed it was unlocked and a light flashed indicating it had a recorded message.

Fifteen minutes later she turned to her deputy, a powerfully build and thoughtful man. “So what did you make of that?”
He considered it for a moment. “It was clearly obtained by coercion.”
“Obviously,” she replied, “he was bound and naked. But it has an air of truth to it I find disturbing. And why deliver it like that when they could have transmitted it directly to the senate?”
“Have they found the servant who brought it?” her deputy asked.
“No he has not been found,” she replied. She steepled her fingers, “tell no one of this. We will investigate. If it proves to be a cheap attempt at manipulation we will report that. If not then it might lead to something bigger. Send someone you trust to Thillion.”
“At once Sir.”

OBJECTIVE THREE
(I had a hard time writing, but hey! Heres an entry!) -A
------------------

19:50, early evening
Estle City, Capac Ring
Shortly after War was Announced

Fear spread across the town like blue butter slab on a hot and fresh slice of toast. Alara didn’t have time to waste. The Sephi determinedly continued on through the shifting currents of the citizens’ panic around her. While others ran to seek shelter, she did as she has always done best: walked straight into the fight.

She had to find her shuttle and get to the Lyra system as soon as possible. The Seer had arranged for her bags to be packed and waiting for her there. She already disclosed her plans to her loved ones, Gregryck and Jae’lle.

“You’ve trained me for long enough, haven’t you? Let me into the fray! I’m used to bloodshed, you know that to be true!” She recollected Jae’lle’s cries in her memory.

“Jae’lle, you’re strong and learning well, but you’re only twelve. You have to wait. I need you here to watch the city walls and to be with Gregryck should he need your assistance.” Her own personal words echoed through her mind.

“Your Master is right, you know. You’re needed here with me. Don’t think we will be doddling around while Alara has all the fun.” The old ewok had tried to persuade the girl, but to no avail.

“This isn’t fair! You have been fighting since the age of nine, Alara. Nine! How can you expect me to sit back right now?!“ The Mirialan girl hollered.

“It’s true, I’ve been fighting since I was nine. But I wasn’t fighting in a war, Jae’lle. Merely a few battles. And only because Gregryck was there to help me as my Master. You have to stay here."

No matter what Alara had said then, it wasn’t enough for the fiery spirit she had been training up. Ever since she had adopted her as her own apprentice after finding her a street urchin on Ulress, the girl grew more rebellious by the day. Alara couldn’t afford to have her rebel further. Though she wouldn’t admit it ordinarily, she was growing attached more and more to her daughter. This led her to understanding Gregryck, her adoptive father, more and more each day.

“No matter how hard I work. No matter how hard I try to serve you. You still don’t trust me! Why did you bother taking me in anyhow?’´ The young apprentice shouted through her tears.

´´Jae’lle, its because I trust you that you’re being put to work here instead of being sent off to your cousins back on Seraph. You need to understand that—“

"Forget it! Save your excuses!" Jae'lle cried. She spun around and fled back to the house.

With a sigh, Alara turned away to face her father once again.

"She will understand soon enough. Do what you need to do." Gregryk gave his daughter a kiss on the hand, held it for a moment, and followed after Jae'lle.

The Seer bit her lip, and headed to the city's airport. Her ARC-170 was awaiting, all packed and ready to go. When Alara grew closer, the ship's ramp automatically folded open for her entrance. She stepped forward and walked to find her tusked cat Artemis and her KX series droid inside.

"So where is it exactly that we are going, Alara?" Her droid asked from the pilot's seat.

"To the home of the Meraxis. I've got a target to kill." Alara replied and petted her feline in greeting. Artemis responded with a rich purr.

"Why? Is this target involved in the Collective or the war?" The droid spoke curiously in a masculine-programmed voice.

"Not exactly. I'm using this time while I await orders to complete my own mission. I'm going after the man who killed Brandon, my sister's husband."

"I see. And where is this man, exactly?"

"Seraph, of course." Alara spoke plainly.

"So we are going back to the fray. Back to where your enemies await you."

"Quite right. I'm not doing this to make a statement to Scholae Palatinae. I'm doing this to avenge my brother and to help my sister heal. It feels like the right thing to do. I don't care what that clan thinks when it happens. I'll stop anyone who gets in the way." Alara stood up and sat in the passenger's seat next to the droid."

"You've made up your mind then. But you have missed one detail, Miss Alara."

"And that is?" She turned to look at him.

"How does Mr. Wyndell feel about all this?"

Her thought process stopped. Wyn… did I even tell him where I was going? She gulped and placed her hand over her mouth in thought. With a slight hesitancy, she lifted her hand and opened her mouth to speak again. "I'll shoot him a text, I suppose."

"Will that be enough?"

"It will have to be." She flicked her datapad open from her wrist and began to tap away at the screen:

Going on a trip. I have a target to deal with on Seraph. I'll be home as soon as it's done. Then we will figure out what to do in this war together. Love you. -Lara

"Another thing, Miss Alara," the KX series droid spoke once more.

"Yes?"

"You never gave me a name after programming me. Is there something youd like to call me?"

Alara smiled brightly at him and tapped his metallic shoulder playfully. "Kicks it is. Let's call you Kicks. Sounds like KX."

"Thank you, Alara. Kicks it shall be. Now, off to Seraph."