I moved through the halls with both apprehension and excitement. To be conscripted to the Tal'mahe'Ra meant great, new things for my career within the Brotherhood. It also meant that I could be destroyed by the Grand Master's Inquisitorious, new and mysterious artifacts, or powerful Force-Users. My only relief came in the form of an old friend - Demos Drakon. I had served him during the Dark Crusade as a Loyalist until Braecen Kaeth had sensed the Force in me.

The only choice I have ever made on my own was my choice to serve the Dajorra Defense Force. I was in with the wrong crowd and owed money to a lot of bad people. My only chance was to hop to a less trafficked system and hope to disappear. While serving in the DDF, I had the unfortunate luck of pulling assignment for the Dark Crusade. Legions of our men were shipped to distant systems to fight a war we had no stake in. I was fortunate to serve my time under an honorable leader - Captain Demosthenes Drakon.

We had started out as Delta Company of the 1st Regiment, but as our successes became stories of grandeur they began to call us Drakon's Company. I'm not sure when it became the Dragon Company, but I assume someone mistyped our Commanding Officers last name. Whatever the issue may have been, the name - and legend - stuck. I was proud to be a Dragon. Our leader was honorable and he made our missions important and relevant to us as a unit: to protect the well-being of our comrades while our Force-User Lords waged their war.

I was immediately surprised and thankful to find he had been elevated from Captain to Major and appointed the Commanding Officer of Tal'mahe'Ra's ground forces. I knew he would inspire greatness in those men. And I secretly hoped for some of the nostalgia from my former ground pounder days. While I was now inducted into the Great Clan and given countless benefits I never would have expected, something in me missed the old days. Maybe, just maybe, with Major Drakon on base I could settle into a new routine. And make the most of this opportunity.

My journey came to an abrupt halt before the doors of the Battle Team Leader's office. I had met the Barabel only a handful of times before, but each time I got the distinct feeling he did not trust me. He never said or did anything to prove my hunch correct, but it was a sense deep in the pit of my stomach. Something I had long ago decided to always go with - not knowing it was the Force bleeding apprehension into me during precarious situations. This was another of those moments. I wrapped on the door with my knuckles three times before stating my business, "Hunter Rappa reporting as ordered!"

"Enter," came the cold voice on the other side. I'm not sure if I imagined the voice as slithery or it projected that way from the lizard-man. By all accounts, he was a good leader. He spent time with his men and women; he did not lead from an office. He trained religiously both with Force-Users and Non-Force-Users; keeping all of his element battle ready. And he had been a seasoned leader and veteran within Clan Arcona for sometime. It was rumored he was Braecen's most loyal lieutenant from their time together as Proconsul and Quaestor. Another detail that did not escape me as the Quaestor's Apprentice. Braecen always seemed to have someone somewhere important.

I shut the door behind me before approaching the seats before the Barabel's desk. I did not assume I was invited to a chair, so I stood at attention behind one. Making my intentions of standing wholly clear. Zakath looked over the top of a tome he was reading. He was clearly reviewing an ancient text and taking notes as he worked late into the night. He nodded satisfaction before he growled an offer, "Pleazze take a zzzeat." I obeyed the order automatically. Something my Master had been telling me not to do anymore. 'You are no longer a soldier, PaRapRappa.' I could hear his voice crystal clear in my head.

"We have much to dizzcuzzz, Hunter." the Barabel began. Immediately, the sinking feeling in my stomach returned.