Two Night Raptors, how had he not seen this coming. Both Darth Vexatus and Tasha’Vel, one had stated spewing doomsday prophecy about a ritual that needs to be completed to save the Clan, the later joining the upstart Rollmaster after he started having visions about a possible threat to the Clan. Plus learning that his own Master had sided with the Rollmaster almost had him questioning his choice of which side he should have been on. No, his was the correct choice, the only choice to be made. But having someone this close to him side with someone else had caused him to doubt himself as a leader and had him questioning the different philosophies of each group. This caused him to seek out the Consul and voiced his concern about his Battleteam members choices. In the end, Locke had told him to continue proving his loyalty, and help retrieve the shards for him. But he needed answers, one he knew he would never get them from, but Tasha should be able to give him the answers that he sought.

After the Conclave, where everyone had made their choices, he had looked for his Battleteam Sergeant, but was unable to before she left with the rest of Marcus’ group. He knew Vexatus would eventually make an appearance, but since he had had very little dealings with him since his assignment to the Night Raptors he knew little of what he was thinking. But he knew Tasha and he knew her past, and knew that in-fighting within the Clan was something that would trouble her deeply. Loyalty runs deep in her mind, and while he knew that she would do most anything to protect the Clan, her loyalty to her Master ran deeper.

He had hoped that he would have been afforded the chance to talk with her before they met on the battle field. A vain hope as when he was finally able to catch up with her, she had been knocked unconscious after she had had a violent Force encounter with a shard-wielding Bentre. He didn’t know what had happened leading up to that point, but he had felt the effects of that Force push. After he had picked himself up off the ground, he had told his commando team to secure the other figure while he attended to Tasha. She was right there, and he had so many questions he wanted to ask her, but he knew that he would not have time to as he sensed someone drawing near. A Jedi presence, that had to be Sang.

He was still thinking about all this when his wrist controller started chirping at him. Why would there be something wrong with the retrieval sphere? It was at that same moment that his Master came leaping over the boulder, where he had placed the shard holding sphere, and incapacitated his Shadow Commandos. Well, now this is different, Armad had thought as he watched his Master not kill any of them. Damn his Master for being able to get near him without him knowing, a curse of being around his Master so much during his training.

So many questions he needed answered, but it seemed that Macron did not want to talk, as he was barreling toward Armad with the intent of challenging his Apprentice once again in combat. As his Master was bearing down on him, he sensed that the shard was secured in a container on Macron’s belt. Gah, why did his Master always have to make things difficult for him. Pulling heavily on the Force, Armad conjured the image of his Master’s sister, Anaxela, and had her appear to stand in my place. Able to barely dodge the enraged attack, Armad was able to slice open the container, retrieve it with the sphere and send it back towards the waiting shuttle. As Armad saw a whitish puff emanating from his Master's armor, the only think he could think of was “You bastard!” And as he fell into unconsciousness, he was deeply angered that his questions wouldn't get answered and that he'd have to wait to ask them.

As the heat fell from his skin, he turned. The work was done for a moment, Malik's surrender not unexpected. The man always was a bit of a martyr, and stepping between the Keibatsu and their prey was never advisable, even for an elder. He always did move with a clear purpose.

Muz stopped for a second, letting his mind catch up to things, reaching out with his senses, with his heart. He could feel them, feel Sildrin's resonance on the tapestry, on the universe where they were. The threads tied her to two distinct places, a weavery constructed with deft mind and great skill. He smiled. He knew she would be trying her hardest, but to what end, he only had half an idea. There was too much bad history behind her blind eyes.

Shikyo nodded at his transceiver, then deftly stowed it in the same motion. "We're en route."

Muz looked up at him for a moment, his youngest brother, his apprentice, his Herald. There was never any real contention between them. Sometimes the others, with their challenges, their grasping to step out from the shadow that he never cared to cast. He understood them, that need. It never bothered Shikyo. He learned many lessons in practicality from the mercenaries, from his years on the Dark Council. It wasn't like Manji, who's dogged persistence in backing the Heir of the Sadow name almost cracked the bloodline in two. He stared back at him, one eye shielded under the Kyataran handguard tied about his head. They hadn't sat and talked for some time. It seemed too obvious, some things, that they never needed said. And yet, still it itched at his psyche.

He let the words go out to him.

Are we all that's left?

Manji shifted his weight, his head moving slightly in affirmation. Muz made no reaction, counting down the names in his head. Shin'Ichi had left the 'Spear after the War, retreating on a long overdue holiday to the core. He never checked in at the Gilmarin Condos, so he must have had somewhere else in mind. He hadn't responded to any communiques, either. While that normally would have bothered him, it was rather his modus operandi as of late, growing more and more distant. Sanjuro had gone to ground at Kuroshin, rarely leaving their compound there, exhausted from the constant infighting that the Brotherhood seemed to espouse more and more. Shimura was long gone, stopped responding to them more than a decade ago, and they could not tell if he still even drew breath.

Macron gave up his affiliation years ago, almost in defiance to the Family when Ashia was Consul. Manji probably still hadn't forgiven him for that, as he was the one who adopted him. Macron's bitterness and impulsive behavior led him to many a drastic act, which explained why he was backing the usurper knight. He could feel the madman, not far from the area that Locke was designating. He was enjoying the battle too much, reveling in destruction and the fear he sowed in the younger ranks. It was too much, the posturing. Fear only made so good of a motivator, and after that immediate threat has passed, they find ways to come at you sideways. He saw it all too many times. Could Macron learn that lesson? It was a question that would have to be answered soon.

Which left Tsainetomo. Muz felt him out there, a brilliant point of light on the dull rock, unable or maybe even unwilling to conceal himself. Muz cracked his neck, considering options. He had thrown down the name of the blood some time ago, threw in his lot with the Long. Was it a desire for power? Vexatus - No, Xanos - He hadn't earned that title. Xanos offered much, but it was, as it always ever was, illusion, built to pretend at primacy, to honor his mad master. What Xanos had to offer was only ever lies, and Sai had to know that, somewhere deep in his heart. The ritual he sought, the shards he was trying to accumulate, the power he was trying to wrest from the long dead; they were not what Vexatus believed. The Falleen thought he was researching Vitiate, by way of Tiamat, but instead found a broken version of Ergast's work. Sai had to know.

If so, then why would he bother throwing his lot in with them. There was pride there, certainly. Love of combat, and the seeking to challenge. Steel sharpens steel, the saying went, and perhaps the half-Korun felt that his steel would be tested more harshly than if at his side. But no, that didn't make much sense either. It was too much ego, too much narcissism to think he was the cause for that. He shunted it aside in his thoughts, knowing the price of ego as a Dark Lord.

Malaise? Could boredom and a lack of self preservation drive him to this? Muz stared at nothing at yet everything, watching the world move by millimeters as his brain dissected the situation, trying to unravel the puzzle that his cousin had become. There was more to this than anything he could see from here, and it curled his lip.

Shikyo looked up at him, at Ashia and Manji. "Ready, then?"

Muz twisted his arm, the display sliding open, bathing his eyes in the luminosity of the datapad built into the prosthetic. The holocomm projector lit up under his unseen hand, and he looked up at his Herald, nodding once.

Go ahead. I'm right behind you.

He let the connection reach out to the old frequencies, encrypted in ways that Sildrin had tested against her own skills when she was his Seneschal. He let the connection begin, feeling the power trace itself up into the network, then vanish out of his visualisation. He stood there, eyes closed as he felt along the edges of this shattered world, letting his senses touch everything he could. Past the journeymen, past the scared soldiers, past the fear of what was coming, or the lust of what might happen. And found him.

He felt his heart twist as he found the communicator.

Soon, there would be an understanding.

*Things are becoming far too heated for my liking.* Bentre glared down at the dossiers and intelligence reports that had been delivered to him. Most had been delivered via datapads. He had dissected their contents, and had scribbled hundreds of notes upon flimsiplast sheets. Those sheets littered his desk, only adding to the chaos boiling within him.

The news of Vexatus’s *prophecy* and Marcus’s *vision* was all too well known and discussed amongst the Clan. Members of Naga Sadow were choosing who to hedge their bets with. Even in his own Battleteam a few members had declared their support strongly for Locke. *They were quite vocal in their opinions. I am sure they felt quite* brave *as they stood beside the Consul.*

The Assassin knew that duty would call him to side with Locke as well. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Vexatus had appeared suddenly, and while he was not sure that Locke’s denouncement was incorrect, he had a very sour feeling in his gut there was more below the surface of events.

There was a disturbance in the Force. It had conjured visions similar to those he had faced in the sunken temple. It had conjured images of the Twi’lek girl- which were painful enough on their own- and the visage of his brother. *Gods help me,* the words fell silently from his lips as tears trickled down his face. He couldn’t stand to face that again.

He wiped a stray tear from his cheek, and picked up the latest intelligence report. *I have to keep my mind busy. Eventually I will have to announce my support for Kiriyu. For now I need to know where my people stand. His eyes scanned the screen with an apathetic disinterest. Despite the gravity of the situation, his mind was many systems away on Corellia. If he ever came upon some free time, he would have to return home to visit his parents. He had been away from home for far too long. Once the Clan was settled again he would make that trip.

*So, Jades had chosen to support the Consul. That is to be expected. And Lexiconus is-* His eyes widened as he reread the notes on the Zelosian Techweaver. *That can’t be right.* With a grunt, Bentre flung the datapad across the office, throwing himself from his chair without pausing to watch it hit.

“**Lexiconus Aurelius!**” his voice bellowed out as he bounded down the hallway. The Corellian could feel the blood pounding in his head as he made his way toward the Warrior’s room. Rosie came around a corner, oblivious to the Knight’s intentions. Just before he bowled her over, however, she managed to duck through a door into a side room with a surprised yelp.

He should have cared, but somehow he didn’t in the heat of the moment. Angry steps brought the Human to a closed doorway. Clenching a fist he began to beat on it savagely. After a few moment the door was flung open with an unceremonious crash. The Assassin had managed to knock something over inside the room in his haste. He glared from the door but his comrade was no where in sight.

“Bentre,” the meek voice of Rosie came from behind him. His face twisted into a visage akin to an angry wolf Stahoes turned to regard her. She did not shirk away though. “Lex left this morning.”

“He-” the Obelisk shook his head. *There is no time to deal with this right now.* Reaching inside his robes, he pulled out his battered commlink. His voice hoarse from yelling, he coughed before he spoke into the device. “Daedric, I want you to meet me in my office in five minutes. We have an unfortunate circumstance to deal with.”

Attached you will find my submission for this competition. Thank you.

I would like to use a night vision/ see through walls thing. I know the force helps detect life forms and whatnot in an area, however, being able to tell what species it is, or male or female, even their alliance would be very helpful in battle and recon missions.