It had only been five minutes, or so it seemed to him. that he had been enlisted into the ranks of the Inquisitorius, and already there were ructions. Every time he thought he had a grasp on the Brotherhood it sent him another curved ball. Sat at his new desk he attempted to take in all the details that the message in front of him had spelled out. A traitor within the ranks. Not only that, he had been tasked to find out the who, why, when and where. He still couldn’t quite grasp why he had been selected for this mission, or by whom as it was unsigned, but he felt that it had something to do with Tasha’Vel, his Master, and her husband, Bentre Stahoes.

Quo rose from the desk, and destroyed the glassfilm that the message had been delivered on, grinding it to dust with the heel of his prosthetic hand. It left a gouge on the polished surface, a reminder of his first day on the job. Any traitor would have to have access to the files of the Inquisitorius, and the communications system presumably, and this was where he would start. As he strode away he exuded the look of a man on their way to somewhere for a definate reason, not a man who was taking his first steps in his first investigation. No sign of hesitation was evident.

Down in the bowels of the Supreme Hall of The Inquistiorius Quo found the archives, with plenty of consoles for his investigations of the Inquisitorius’ systems. He wasn’t the greatest slicer, but he could get into the system without having to log on and leave a trace. Going into the sub-systems he was amazed at the amount of communications traffic that was there. There had to be a way to narrow the search. He accessed the logs for encrypted communications, two thousand one hundred and eighty seven. Ok, within the last month, seventeen. Scanning down the list there were only three that came from the same originator, but it couldn’t be, Tasha’Vel Versea. He wouldn’t believe that his own Master was a traitor, there had to be another answer. Selecting the the three messages from her he tried to make out who the messages were sent to, but that was encrypted as well. Searching through the message he attempted to decrypt the message, or at least the recipient.

Saving copies of the messages to his own storage device he would try to break the code on his own console back at the Halls of Residence.

Quo searched again, this time for any files that had been modified or deleted from the system, and again found three that had been recently deleted, all of them within the last eight days, and two of them connected to his own dossier. What the fleg was going on here? Why would anybody be interested in his file? He was a low ranking member of the Society, he didn’t have any access to anything important, he was a complete novice in the Inquisitorius.

Copying the files to the same storage device Quo rose and took his leave of the Archive. Heading away from the home of the secret society, he headed back to his own accomodations, needing the solitude to make an assessment of the circumstantial evidence that he had gathered. Accessing his personal console he loaded the encrypted messages. He selected a program from the drop down list, and attempted to infiltrate the encryption. He had encrypted messages from Tasha’Vel on his communications window, he could use a couple of them to give his program a grasp on her encryption methods. He inputted the messages, and set the program onto the task of cracking it.

With that in hand Quo turned his attentions to the files that had been modified. There was nothing interesting to anyone in the files, only Quo’s dossier, an assessment of his training, and the notifications of his commendations. Quo’s face was contorted in both frustration and confusion. Nothing in here had the slightest bit of import to the Brotherhood, and the files contained no secrets that anyone outside it would be vaguely interested in. What was going on here?

Quo let the computer carry out its computations, managing to grab a couple of hours sleep before he was awoken by an insistant beeping. He made his way over to his console. The program had done it’s work, to a fashion. It had managed to decrypt the addresses of the recipients, and they read like a list of the great and powerful of the Brotherhood. The Master at Arms, the Consul of Clan Naga Sadow, the Proconsul, Bentre Stahoes, Tasha’Vel’s husband, along with a few other names that were well known to all Dark Jedi. Quo couldn’t believe that all these people were traitors. Another beep from the console told him that another part of the messages had been decrypted.

Reading from the screen before him, ”...and it will take place at the Sadow Palace on Sepros, . He must be in attendance before the action can be taken....................satisfied until the task is completed”, and it was signed by his Master. It sounded like an assassination attempt, but on who?

Quo rose, his intention to go to his ship, the Eenzaam, in order to face his Master, and put an end to this one way or another. A knock at the door. Approaching and opening it he was faced by his Master. Without warning four strikes to his pressure points were all that she needed to render him temporarily immobile, a hoodwink applied to his head. So this was how it ended he thought. How far away from the truth he was, and how he had been played by those who cared for him came as a shock. He had thought that he was alone, insignificant, however the extract from Tasha’Vel’s journal, gave the full story. Quo was finally in a place to call home, with people who cared and respected him
Journal entry - Tasha’Vel Versea 13/02 38ABY

The time had finally come and Tasha had arranged the events. Sneaking away down the many corridors and hallways, she had arrived to her apprentice's room. Knocking on the door, she waited till it opened. With the Force guiding her motions, her palms and elbows quickly struck the vital points on the figure blocking the doorway, rendering him momentarily stunned as she quickly blindfolded him, and began to guide him down the halls.

"Do not speak and just follow me," she whispered. Even though her apprentice was gifted in the Force, he stumbled behind her, unsure of himself.

As he reached out with his senses, all he heard were his master's footsteps and his own. Everything else seemed to come through a thick veil, hiding anything else from his senses. As they entered what felt like a giant hall, a voice boomed through the air.

"On your knees Sith!" The command came from a voice he couldn’t quite place. Struggling slightly, he was quickly forced to his knees by his Master as she spoke in a stern tone. "Quo-Wing-Tzun you stand before your elders. Bentre Stahoes, Marcus Kiriyu, Darkblade, and myself.”

“You have proven yourself an ally as well as a worthy adversary here in Clan Naga Sadow. For your efforts, hard work and dedication, we would like to present to you the title Dark Jedi Knight.” Igniting her lightsaber, she maneuvered the crimson blade near Quo’s left ear, and then to his right.

“Rise, my apprentice," she said as she took off the blindfold. “Rise as a Knight of Sadow.” As Quo rose up he could see Marcus, Bentre, Darkblade and Tasha standing in front of him, all wearing ceremonial robes with their faces covered. Around him the other Clansmen were gathered, who erupted in gleeful cheering."Well done, former apprentice, and welcome to the ranks of Knighthood!"

So this was the big cover up, no treachory, no secrets to damage the core of the Order, simply a ruse to get a young initiate to the Society to a place and time to celebrate his promotion to Knighthood. Quo wasn’t one for revelling, or growing attached to people, but the people gathered around him made it very hard not to. The only secrets that were of import were the ones he kept to himself as he looked around the room.

(Tasha’Vel’s journal entry kindly supplied by Tasha’Vel Versea)

Lucyeth
#13700

The Eenzaam screamed down through the atmosphere, flames engulfing the shields as the friction of the air burned against the energy force protecting the vessel. Quo knew that he would have to get low and fast to avoid being detected on the parliamentary warning system. Zooming down towards one of the massive oceans that covered over half the planet he knew that there was little chance of being spotted this far from the capital, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The locals didn’t take kindly to outsiders, and he didn’t want to cause any further problems than he was facing already.

Skimming down towards the surface of the ocean the Tie Oppressor left vapour trails as she dived like a swallow chasing insects. Levelling out with a tortured groan she was a matter of feet from the waves as they broke. Quo reduced his speed, no need to announce his arrival any more than he had done already. At least coming in from this far out should stop him being sighted by any viewers, or more than a couple at most from any ships or boats in the area. None were showing up on his scanners, so either there were none, or they were very small.

His course would take him over the holiday resorts if he went directly to the capital, so he had planned his route to avoid the recreational areas around the coral reef islands, instead going a round about route, a couple of hundred kilometres west of them. His approach to the capital itself would be easily done. He’d set down approximately five kilometres away from the city, and cover the last part on foot. He was glad he only had Marcus to rescue, there wasn’t enough room to carry more than one passenger on the Eenzaam.

The communication console in his accommodation had bleeped into life late last night, interrupting his meditations. Annoyed, he had gone over to the machine intending to turn it off and resume, however the flashing yellow alert marker had put paid to that thought. An emergency? And encrypted? Sitting before the console he used the retinal scanner, and a drop of blood to verify that it was him, along with a voice recognition logarithm to further secure his identity the system automatically decrypted the message. Marcus Kiriyu was in trouble, he had been undercover for the clan, and his cover had been blown. Sending out an extraction request was a last resort for Marcus, usually he would handle it with military precision and get himself out. Quo sent an encrypted reply, letting Marcus know that he was on his way, set to repeat every three hours.

Now, outside the city Quo had to cover the ground quickly, and find Marcus. He knew his last position from the details of the message to within a half kilometre radius. Kiriyu had been near fun end of the city, close to the marina, the casinos, the seedy bars. Quo tried to imagine Marcus in one of those, but the thought of the six foot plus Epicanthix with his military bearing and smug look didn’t somehow fit. Moving swiftly Quo soon covered the ground towards the edge of the urban sprawl. Working his way down to the harbour area his eyes were scanning every building, every person, every boat as he made his way around the wealthy playboy’s playground. He wasn’t specifically looking for Marcus, although that would make life a lot easier, he was looking for signs. When Marcus sent the extraction call he should also have left a signpost, a clue as to what was happening, if he had followed standard operating procedure.

Then he spotted it. On edge of the pavement there was a series of three nicks in the plascrete. A normal passer by would have missed it, even an experienced operative would have struggled to distinguish those marks from any other set of marks made by a heavy object being dragged across the slabs. These marks weren’t parallel though, gouge marks generally are. Looking up as he continued walking Quo took in the building opposite in a single fleeting glance. So that was where he had been. Whether he was still there was debatable, probably not thought Quo..... however...... there were two of the rooms in that building that had their windows unrefracted against the sunlight. Turning as if he was looking back along the path he had just taken. One of them had a light on, the other lay in darkness. It would be too easy to be spotted from inside the lit room. The dark one would give cover, or there was simply nobody home.

Making his way across the street he passed beneath an awning protecting the foot traffic from the worst of the elements, and protecting him from the view from the darkened room. Using the crowds that were there revelling in the facilities, drinking and eating the finest of foods on the café fronts. Quo rounded the corner of the target building and with a burst of acceleration disappeared around the back, moving faster than any watching eye could keep up with., cloaking himself with the Force to gain entry. Moving slowly and deliberately he made his way to the service elevator, and keyed in the fourth floor, mentally mapping the layout of the building as he went. He had to concentrate, not only to maintain the cloak, but to avoid bumping into any of the workers that were carrying out their day to day jobs.

Approaching the front corridor of the building, making no sound as he went, he held his back to the central wall. Peeking around the corner Quo took it all in in a couple of seconds. Two security force personnel stood either side of the door. So there had been something here. Quo moved from the cover of the corner, approaching the guards with stealth. The door between them was shut, so they were either guarding something, or imprisoning something. Quo had to make a decision. Stretching out with his senses he probed the space behind the door. He could feel something , but couldn’t make out who or what it was.
Quo reached out to the minds of the guards, fogging their minds, slowing their reflexes and causing bewildering confusion. Using this as his cue he struck twice, rendering both of them unconscious. Moving quickly he caught the falling forms in an attempt to prevent whoever was behind the door from being made aware of his presence. Laying them down on the floor Quo approached the door, ear gently skimming the surface as he sought for any sound from within. Silence. Quo looked at the door trying the handle with his left hand. It opened easily, a gentle push opening it fully. Two slugs hit the far wall. Quo rolled into the darkness, another shot grazing his shoulder, passing through the material of his tunic. As his feet found the ground beneath him Quo flipped forwards, arcing high, towards the window, a twist landing him four centimetres away from it, the shooter framed in the light from the corridor.

Watching the shadow Quo saw him roll his body to the left, attempting to train his weapon on the Dark Jedi to make a killing shot. The room illuminated as the ‘Snap, hiss, whum’ of the ignition was followed by a shallow arc, taking the shooter in the mid part of his arm, a crescent of blood lit by the crimson glow of the blade. Leaping for the door Quo activated the lock, and set the opacity of the windows to their highest setting before lighting the glow globe.

“And that is what you call stealth is it?” Marcus chided. Quo approached him, removing the binders from his wrists and ankles that were securing him to the bolted down workstation.

“It worked didn’t it?” Quo quipped, “and you call yourself an under cover operative do you?”

“I was double crossed, the First Order had got here before me, and they knew I was coming. We have to get back and let them know. We can’t even be sure that our encryption is secure any more. Locke will have some tough decisions to make”
Picking up his gear, he checked the room. Reaching down he twisted the head of the groaning gun man on the floor, a ‘crack , crunch’ stopped the groaning. “They’ll be needing a new head of security,” said Marcus before heading for the door, Quo following closely behind.

“Don’t you think I should lead?” Quo asked, “seeing as how only I know where I parked?” A slight lean of Kiriyu’s head assented.

Within the hour they were stowing their gear into the Eenzaam, it would be a tight squeeze, but at least they would be on their way home. Quo retraced his entry route, no point in attracting anyone’s attention to their departure. The severity of the climb giving Marcus a chance to comment upon Quo’s piloting skills as well, likening the whole experience to a journey through a Rankor’s alimentary tract. Neither of them commented on the First Order, the security breech, or the possibility of there being a traitor. That could wait until they were safely back in the Orion system. That’s when the real discomfort would begin.