Fiction Gallery

Fear was the feeling the crept through the assembled servants of Sadow as they stared at the spectral visages dancing just outside of their collective vision.

Fear was particularly terrifying to the assembled group of stoic Dark Jedi because it’s not a feeling that came naturally to the heirs of Darth Sadow. When you can jump through the air, read people’s minds, move things through the air and block the shot of a laser beam at it races toward you at the speed of light; there are not many things that can surprise you. When few things can kill you, there is only one thing left to fear: the unknown.

The ghost like beings, with blank faces, that floated nearby; looked physically present but in some kind of haze. The rational mind wanted to dismiss them as mere apparitions created by their collective imaginations. Had not this same collection of people laughed in the past when speaking of the Tarentis weird spirit superstitions? How could they be real? How could they be standing in front of them?

‘What, if any, were their capabilities to harm a Dark Jedi’ the Clone Archon thought to himself as the astral choir began to shout. A panic rose as the attack began.

Etah, a Harbinger of terror and a servant of death, smelled their fear from far away. He didn’t know any form of ghosts were involved, he was a reaper; not a sorcerer.

“Prepare the ship,” Etah said into his hologram relay device.

Low Orbit Aboard the Endor's Revenge Glee Anselm

Talis sat in quiet contemplation. His wounds that he sustained during the Polyphemous Operation had completely healed. Currently his ship was on its final approach to a set of coordinates he had obtained from a long time contact. They were coordinates to a small island on the planet Glee Anselm. The home world of the Nautolans. His contact was extremely excited when he gave him the coordinates but would not divulge his reasoning. He just told him. “You will know when you get there brother.”

“Captain,” A voice broke through the silence of his cabin.

“Yes, what is it?” Talis replied dazed.

“We are coming into optical range and will be landing shortly.”

“Roger that I will make my way to the landing ramp.”

The Jedi Knight rose and adjusted his armor. He didn't know if he was walking into a trap or not so he decided to be cautious about it.

The Miralukan arrived at the foyer of his ship where the entryway was and waited. He could hear the engines rev and felt the steel around him lurch a little before it lightly set down. The door's locks could be heard clanking open and the pressurized hiss of the door pistons activating echoed in the seemingly empty vessel. An R2 unit rolled up next to him before stopping just shy and beeping at him.

“I will call for you Beenine when I know it is safe.” The astromech's depressed response cascaded back at the Sentinel. He placed his hand on the droid's dome and offered an apologetic smile.

Talis exited his ship and entered the warm humid air of the planet. He made his way down the ramp of his ship and up the causeway of the landing pad to the island. Four beings well armed waited for him. All of the men were Nautolans. They wore matching armor with blaster rifles in their arms and a vibrosword on each of their hips. The leader of the security detail stepped forward and presented his hand.

“Your lightsaber please.”

“Not until I know what this is.” Talis readied himself as the security detail raised their weapons an waited for him to comply.

“That is enough Captain Altre!” A voice erupted from behind the group. One of the security detail flinched hard and accidentally squeezed off a shot. Talis reacted on instinct, spinning away from the shot and drew his lightsaber before igniting it and holding the point up to the throat of the captain.

“Everyone weapons away!” A second voice could be heard. This time a woman. Her voice was strong yet nurturing. Something about it felt welcoming.

Two hooded figures approached Talis. Something about them made him calmer and safer. He waited a few moments before he put away his lightsaber.

“Who are you and why am I here?”

“I am Anillan,” The male robed figure replied.

“And I am Sablis,” The female robed figure followed suit.

“Why are you wearing hoods in this muggy weather?”

“Our people have grown accustom to the humidity and today is quite cold in comparison to our normal days here.” The male replied.

"I do not usually do business with people who hide their identities under a hood." Talis shifted uncomfortably.

“It is only fair that you remove your helmet as a show of faith, if we are to remove our hoods.” The woman's voice was smooth.

“Sure.” Talis removed the phase two clone trooper helmet revealing his eye wrappings to the group. The feelings of shock and embarrassment from the four sentries made the current altercation even more confusing.

“I knew I sensed someone new in our enclave.” The woman pulled back her robe revealing a regally designed eye cover and Anillan removed his to reveal a simpler eye covering. The Miralukan stood in shock. “You must have many questions for us.” The woman's excitement could hardly be contained.

“That's an understatement.” The Jedi snapped back unintentionally. For some reason Talis felt ashamed of that and apologized to the woman. “Sorry ma'am.”

“It is nothing to have taken offense to,” Sablis replied with a smile, “I can only imagine the shock new comers get from meeting us here.”

The trio made their way through a wall of trees and into a clearing. On the other side of the clearing a small town became visible. They spent the walk in silence as the young Knights mind raced. He had thought his people were wiped out by the Brotherhood after Grand Master Pravus took over.

'How could there be a city of Miralukans? What had happened to lead them to Glee Anselm?' the young man thought to himself.

The trio entered town and people turned and looked in awe at the imposing figure of the armored Miralukan Jedi. More people poked their heads out of their homes and the trio grew into a small mob of inquisitive faces.

They came upon a temple structure that had the planet and twin moons emblem of the Luka Sene. A group of force sensitive Miralukan not unlike the Jedi. Their emblem was of Tython and its two moons, Ashla and Bogan. Talis spent countless hours researching his peoples history in the Jedi archives on New Tython. He had never lived with his people so he only knew what the holorecords told about it. The crowd stopped short of the base of the stairs leaving the trio alone in the opening created by the vacuum. The Odanite tossed a gaze back over his shoulder at the group. Who all stared up at the temple entrance in awe.

Three figures stood at the top of the stairs. Their power in the force was awe inspiring even at the distance they stood from him.

“We wish for an audience with the Grand Master of the Luka Sene.” Sablis bowed deep and held it. Talis turned to Anillan who was also bent over at the waste in a bow to the three. The Gray Jedi stood there like a statue, unmoving and emotionless, staring up at the three white haired beings above him. He would not bow to these men. He had never bowed to any being and he was not about to break that ongoing record.

“Why do you not supplicate yourself before us,” The figure on the right motioned to the other two, “the Masters of this temple.”

“When I broke my bonds of slavery I swore to never bow to another person.” Talis never turned his gaze away from the man in the center. “I do not plan on breaking that oath.”

“If you do not supplicate.” The figure on the right was silenced by a fourth being who had emerged from the temple behind him. A weathered old man meandered up next to the man in the center. His aura was blinding but soft. Talis relaxed a bit upon seeing him. He had no clue who the man was but he felt that he could trust him. The old man didn't say anything he just waved the young man forward. The collective feelings of awe and confusion swirled around those in attendance. The Odanite followed the old man into the temple.

They walked for some time before coming out into a cave. Creeper vines clung to the walls and a small spring sat in the center. It fed into a small creek that dug its way out of the cave through one of its walls. A stone tablet was set into the wall across from the entrance. On it was engraved the emblem of the Luka Sene. Instead of just being stone the two moons were large gems. Both about the size of a mans chest and perfectly round and smooth. One was red and black swirling together, representing Bogan. The other was a opalescent white with no other colors, representing Ashla. On the floor sat two pillows a few feet apart. The Old man took the seat under the Bogan stone and motioned for the Jedi to sit under the Ashla stone.

The two sat in silence staring at one another. The old man broke the silence when he reached into his cloak. This caused the wary visitor to rest his hand on his lightsaber hilt. The man pulled out a bag and pulled some rock candy out and tossed it into his mouth. He smiled at the tense warrior sitting across from him before reaching out and offering him some. Talis reached forward and took a few and tossed one in his mouth. They were surprisingly delicious for something so simple.

“Miralukan are a lot like these candies. Not always inviting to the eye but once you try them you fall in love.” The old man's voice was soft like a pillow but stern with wisdom. “I am sure you have many questions. Feel free to ask all of them.”

“Okay.” Talis eyed the old man. “After Pravus took over the brotherhood I heard they bombarded the planet of Alpheridies and slaughtered the survivors. If that is true, then how are you all here?”

“This temple has been here as an enclave for centuries. It was only known of within the upper leadership of the Luka Sene. We sent out an invitation to all of the survivors.” The old man demeanor changed to sadness. “We were not quick enough to get to them all. Our Luka Seekers were sent out and brought in who they could find and freed others that were in slavery. Every soul counted. Our race is on the verge of extinction.”

“So the Luka Sene have been pretty active across the galaxy?”

“Yes. We have Miralukans from all over the galaxy here from all walks of life.” The old man paused and smiled. “Sablis was a Jedi like you. She never completed her training but she has been an immeasurable help to us here at the temple.”

“Why isn't Sablis a member of the Luka Sene?” The Odanite leveled his gaze at the man.

“Well,” the old seer sighed, “those who are not strong enough in the force to avoid the temptation of the darkside have their force sensitivity suppressed for their own good.”

“For their own good?” the Jedi's tone darkened, “and how exactly do you make that decision.”

“We don't, she made it for herself.”

“Fair enough.” Talis ate another one of the rock candies and mulled over the answer a little. “Why have you not attempted to contact the Jedi order. Clan Odan Urr could use your help. We are still in this fight.”

“And you may be.” The old man crunched down another candy. “But we are not.”

“I saw your city. There are at least a thousand strong fighters here.”

“What you saw where men and woman who fled here from the persecution of the Grand Master of the Order your Clan followed.” The old man's gaze stabbed through the younger man. “They would not fight for or with you. They wish to be left alone.”

“I.” Talis stopped and thought about it. “Thats fair.”

“Any other questions?” the Grand Master's cheery tone returned.

“I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I stayed around and learned more about my people.”

“Ah an inquisitive sort, are we?”

“I have just never been around my own kind. There are other Miralukans among the Jedi but they don't really know that much either. I would like to learn more about the Luka Sene and the Ashla and Bogan if you would give me leave to study.”

“You are welcome to learn as much as you would like. We would have to find a place for you to stay.”

“I have my ship and its comfortable and will keep my up to date with the Jedi and the current war effort.”

“That works, makes my day easier, keeps me from having to talk to much to those wet blankets.”

“Wet blankets?”

“The three masters.” The old man offered Talis another candy but he politely refused. “Suit yourself, and do not worry. They are not mentors. Think of them as the deans, they are more a political group of pains in my joints.” The two shared a hearty laugh before Talis made his way back to his ship.

It wasn't until he returned to the ship that the realization of what he had found hit him. He would have to buy his contact a couple rounds after this.

The Odanite made his way to his comm and sent a message to Junazee. He kept his real meaning to himself but sent her the coordinates hidden among the Garza Cipher that their unit used.

Chaos had erupted on-site, with the scientists running away screaming and the warriors and more resilient members attempting to combat the unholy menace that had erupted from the digs. Several troopers that got separated were now surrounded by ghostly apparitions and quickly disappeared from sight only to emerge moments later to attack their former brethren.

"Fall back! Fall back!" came the call from somewhere within the fray. "They're possessed!"

The chaos was the detriment to the speed in which the Sadowans complied with the order, moving much slower than they had trained for and with far more casualties to the possessive spirits.

Suddenly, a roar erupted overhead and Tarentum assault ships emptied their bellies onto the dig site. Warrior and scholarly Tarenti alike rushed the onslaught of possessed soldiers and ghostly apparitions, while the Tarenti medical corp quickly reinforced the Sadowans treating the wounded.

As the ghostly apparitions and their possessed minions were driven back, using the techniques that had been developed by the Clan of Life and Death, there fell a calm across the field of ruins that the Sadowans had decided to start their expeditions. It would be up to these two clans to work together if they were to uncover the world's secrets, and utilize them for the struggles that the future held for the both of them.

Only time would tell if these two unlikely allies would succeed or if they would end up stabbing one another in the back like enemies of times gone by.

Jade stretched as the Sadowians reached the temple. Her legs slightly stiff from the ride there. A couple of the troopers watched her graceful cat like stretches, their eyes scanning the power and feminine control behind them. The predator in her made her claws itch to play with them like toys, but they were on her side, and she did not attack those who fought on the side of Clan Naga Sadow.

She followed the others into the temple, the force tingling around her. It was a clear warning, that if they kept going they would run into something. But no one seemed to care. Everyone was after the prize. The force users just seemed to take the waves of the force and use it to enhance their abilities.

As they came up upon the main atrium the ghostly blue spectral's seemed to look through their very bodies. One of the troopers sweeped the spectre with his rifle. When there was no response they walked through them. One trooper elbowed another and pointed towards her. The blue holo image lights reflecting in her predatory eyes. Jade smiled showing the tips of her fangs. Though it would have given them some fear, she believed it also gave them some sense of comfort that she was fighting with them, not against them. Her glance moved towards the platform as Evelynn moved onto it. The force screamed a single warning before the cries of the trooper filled the atrium.

The collective atmosphere from the Tarentum members heading to the ruins of Qirool VI could be felt by any possible passing lifeform or ship. The tales of ghosts attacking the Naga Shadow teams seemed more like the Clan was crying wolf. Though they were obligated by the prospect of getting the Sith artifacts and saying they would help, each member had mixed feelings. Feelings that all generally lead to some form of mistrust. But as each member looked across to the next in their shuttles, no one dared to say it out loud.

The sound of boots on metal was soon drowned out by agonizing screams coming nearby. The soldiers and force users took a moment to look at each other once more. The looks in their eyes now clouded with emotions. If the screams were a trick by Naga Shadow, they were putting on a good show. But if the screams were true to the pain and fear in them, then they were in for a fight, and would be truly committed to teaming up with Naga Shadow.

Aliso Plains Outside of Aliso City

A cool afternoon breeze played with the loose edges of Kul’s cloak as he tried to place himself distant from his immediate surroundings. With legs crossed in traditional K’thri style, and eyes closed, he instead focused solely on the vibrant echoes of the Force as it embraced the plains around him. He was still close to the main city in case he was given a mission, but during his downtime often found himself enjoying the solitude with his faithful Massiffs. They were currently lounging about, but every so often would poke and prod at each other when bored. The bare ecology of Aliso left much to be desired in terms of hunting. Regardless, Kul still found this time to bond with his pets to be amicable and good reinforcement for his training.

Trying to ignore the incessant snapping of fabric being pulled too and fro, Kul finally sighed and opened his eyes. His pets noticed the agitation riding at the edge of his thoughts and glanced over. He waved a reassuring hand.

Assurance. Follow. We return.

Kul rose to his feet and threw his hood back over his horns. He noticed one of his Massiffs perk up with his short ears prickling and turn towards Aliso City. Thinking they were excited to return to the hustle and bustle of Willing at work, the Zabrak chuckled inwardly.

Patience. We return now.

Shar’kala, the female, came up to him and nudged at his legs.

Correction. Warning. Scent of smoke. Direction of masters’ caves.

The Massiffs had never really understood the term “building,” instead labeling them all as caves. They also had no terms for the many races of the galaxy, instead referring to them as masters, while emphasizing his own role as Master through their mental speech patterns. Their nned to simplify most things made more complex statements difficult, but emotions worked just as well, most times.

Kul shifted his gaze to Aliso City, and saw that his pet was indeed correct. The city was burning. Or at least part of it. He thought he could hear the sound of rumbling coming from that direction, as well. He was not sure exactly what the cause was, but the scale seemed to indicate an attack of sometime. He quickly snatched up his gear he’d set to the side and began running towards his waiting Delta-class T-3c shuttle.

“Shar’kala, Shor’kir, follow.”

Within the folds of his paraphernalia, a sharp beeping was emanating with the vigor, and annoying habit, of a klaxon. Still moving, Kul struggled with the mess of items until he pulled out his comlink and activated it.

“Drol here.”

“Ah, lord Drol. We’ve been trying to reach you. The Dread Lord has called for full mobilization of Plagueis’ forces. Aliso City is under attack from a droid army of unknown origin.”

“Lieutenant Grifen? I am pleased to see the attack has not claimed you. Tell HQ I’m on my way.”

“Thank you milord. I was hoping to find you alive and well. Actually, we have a set of coordinates ready for you. Apparently, the Quaestor of Ajunta Pall is in need of assistance.”

Kul frowned.

“Uscot? Copy that, send me the coords and I’ll head over.”

“Affirmative, Commander. Good luck.”

As Kul arrived at his shuttle, he huffed loudly.

“This battle won’t be decided by luck.”

Aliso Aliso City

Another droid fell its chest sizzling as it melted away. Laren quickly shifted his aim, never slowing, in order to maximize his firing rate. His mind clocked slightly on overdrive with the aid of adrenaline, his eyes swiftly determined friend or foe and he pulled the trigger accordingly. What had once been a strong front holding the line had deteriorated into madness as droids emerged from places behind the defensive lines. His casualties had shot up since then, with only a handful of squads operating at effective levels. What wounded they could grab they had stashed within a small complex near one of the intersections of the street, along with a multitude of civilians. He’d received word that reinforcements were inbound, but with the seemingly never-ending tide of droids threatening to wash them all away, he wasn’t sure it would matter.

Another eruption pelted his group with shrapnel and dust, forcing them down. One of the buildings down the street suddenly began to creak. A rumbling shook the ground, and finally the building gave way and tumbled down. The screams of the civilians left inside pierced the air even as the raucous scene threatened to deafen them all. Laren turned away, remembering his focus was on the task at hand. He threw a few rounds of hot plasma in the general direction of the droids, but the thick dust had yet to settle and his vision was too impaired to pick a specific target.

How had it come to this? Surprised by an army of relics from a time long past. How did they slip past our sensors and defenses?

He was pulled out of his reverie when a hand clasped itself on his shoulder. He turned to find a soldier standing at attention, having removed his hand and snapped it to salute.

“Quaestor, we have a problem!”

The soldier was clearly trying not to panic, but having a hard time fighting the emotion. The mercenary waved the man down behind cover.

“Down man, do you want to die?! Now spit it out, what’s the problem?”

The soldier never had time to respond as a spray of bolts peppered the area from the direction the building had gone down. One of the bolts struck his back and the soldier fell dead. A few of the more seasoned soldiers saw the new threat and began to engage. Laren’s eyes grew wide as he realized the new threat was another wave of droids came clambering out from below the building’s foundation. So that was it! They were using tunnels under the city. But droids did not dig of their own accord, so who commanded them to? Those were thoughts better left to a more luxurious moment, however. Laren quickly sprinted, bent over to lessen the chance of the crossfire clipping him, and joined the new defense. He quickly gazed over their makeshift barrier of debris and enemy corpses (and some allied here and there, gazing pleadingly for vengeance with their open-eyed stares) and counted as many as he could in a short span.

One...five...yep. There’s a kriffton.

With the lines buckling on all sides, Laren needed to make a decision: hold until help arrived, or try and move to a more established defense. He could not be certain there was a more established defense, though. The assault had surprised the entire Plagueis military. What hope was left was dwindling with the defender’s numbers.

The dull hum of a shuttle’s boosters roared overhead. Laren looked up to see a shadow cross over the thinning dust cloud. What appeared to be a black shuttle opened its rear hatch, and a squad of jump troopers began to rocket down, raining blaster fire into the droids’ advancing lines. The shuttle itself began to rotate and its laser cannons opened fire, obliterating the frontline of droids advancing from the collapsed building. It passed over Laren’s position while continuously pelting what droids it could find. It began to lower and on the ramp Laren could make out a familiar form. Kul dropped from the hatch and landed on bent knees. He surveyed the wreckage around him while pulling his lightsaber from its clip and approaching the Quaestor.

“Fine mess, you’ve made here, Uscot.”

“When they told me they were sending reinforcements, I didn’t think they meant trash cleanup. Best get to work then.”

Kul huffed and activated his saber. Without waiting for Laren he leaped over the barricade and waded into the debris, slicing anything metallic that came near him. The shuttle passed over again, and this time two medium sized furballs came charging out quickly trying to catch up with their Master. They hit the ground rolling, but fixed themselves and dove for the combat. Using their weight they could crash into the droids’ knee joints and topple them over, then remove their weapons by snatching them with jaws. The squad of troopers that arrived with Kul formed up and finished off ones that had fallen or picked off any from their shuffling formation. Laren gave out orders to his remaining squads, and they reformed on the flanks to strengthen the line. Not as many droids were left in the open street, so the original attackers must have broken off from a different emergence tunnel and made their way here originally. Their main focus would be to keep that new tunnel contained.

Sweeping his saber side to side, Kul deflected bolts with his saber as he advanced. The droids had realized their predicament now, and so they had begun to retreat slightly to get behind cover. Behind their lines, Kul noticed a small insect-like creature hopping about. As his men pushed forward, it suddenly dived in the tunnel. It flapped some kind of translucent wings and had a bulbous head that stuck out weightily. Kul thought he knew the creature, but it would have been impossible for one to be here on Aliso of all places. Or was it? The Confederacy of Independent Systems had utilized this planet for some time. It wasn’t too far of a stretch to imagine they had brought others. But for what purpose?

“Uscot. Did you see that?”

“See what, Drol? The teeming scores of droids I’ve been dealing with for the past hour or so?”

“No...it was...A Geonosian, I think.”

Laren paused at that, a perplexed look shadowing his face.

“A Geonosian? They’re extinct aren’t they? Killed off by the Empire.”

Kul pointed his left hand towards the tunnel entrance.

“Apparently not all of them. They must be the one’s controlling the droids. I just don’t know why.”

Laren blasted a droid off to the side as it emerged from a building. Then tossed a thermal detonator in when a few more popped their heads out. Their group pushed on and eventually reached the tunnel itself. Kul and Laren both peered into the gaping hole before glancing at one another. Laren shook his head as a wide grin began to spread across Kul’s face.

“Ohhhh no. I don’t need mind reading powers to know what you’re thinking, Drol. I am not going down there until we have a full grasp of the situation. We need to report to HQ and let them know what we’ve found, there are civilians and wounded left to escort…”

“Like that’s stopped you before, Uscot. Your caring attitude isn’t exactly one of your strong points. Besides, I didn’t give you a choice in the matter really.”

With that Kul pushed the Pantoran into the hole. As a string of life-threatening curses followed him down, Kul and his Massiffs joined him.

The sound of armor plates moving against each other echoed slightly as he walked, but it did little to mask the sound of the blood pounding in his ear. Kerro shuffled his E-11 Blastech blaster from hand to hand as his visor adjusted to the darker lighting in the passage. While the weathered exterior had appeared to be made of crumbling stone, the passage appeared to be constructed of marble, strangely untouched by time.

“Llook at those carvings,” a woman behind the soldier breathed, “it reminds me of the Ragnos Cathedral.”

“Warhost Command-” snaps and crackle of static cut off words in his comm earpiece, “ -have lost visual contact. Report.”

“Didn’t catch that, Command.”

“Cap….eras…..an’t...ar...epeat…?” An increased level of static buzzed over the commlink.

“Captain Keras here, Team Bantha is inside a large structure. We are going to move in to investigate.” Clicking the As his eyes scanned the walls, Keras noticed an indentation in the wall. The object was a bit larger than his fist. As he shuffled toward the item, the other soldiers seemed to relax slightly. The female soldier, the Captain couldn’t recall her first name, stepped forward as she stretched a hand out slowly to allow her fingers to brush the orb.

“Be careful Omakor. Touching strange objects can be bad around-” the words died in the man’s mouth as the orb began to glow. A scream filled the passage, drowning out all thought.

Tarentum had been called in by Grand Master Muz to assist Naga Sadow with the ghost issue in the temple on Qirool VI. They have a history of dealing with things like ghosts and zombies. It wasn’t long ago that Battle Team Grey Wolf had helped Shadow Guard of Scholae with a zombie problem of their own on Judecca, the now dead world. Now Tarentum would come to help with the ghost problem on this new world.

Jurdan watched as Tarenti troops, and Sith, began landing on the surface of the planet just outside the temple. He watched as some of the Sith approached the entrance of the temple and he could hear them start chanting something. It was foreign and gibberish to him. He walked up to one of the members of the clan closest to him, it was Frosty.

“What are they doing?”Jurdan inquired quietly as to not disturb the ceremony.

“They are performing a binding ritual. They mean to bind whatever spirits remain and send them away to where ghosts are supposed to go.” Frosty explained. “This is something the sorcerers have learned based on research they have uncovered in dealing with similar issues in the past.”

Jurdan nodded and watched as the Tarenti sorcerers walked into the mouth of the temple atrium.

Jurdan Krennel had just arrived on the planet Qirool VI. He had recently transferred from Scholae Palatinae to Clan Naga Sadow out of respect for someone who had saved his life. Evelynn Wyrm had found Jurdan stranded in space, his ship adrift but salvageable. He had been in a firefight on behalf of Scholae and had been left behind. Wyrm picked up his beacon and picked him up. Out of respect for his rescuer he offered his skills as Shar Dahkan Aedile. Jurdan walked into the massive temple that sat before him. He was leading a group of his newest soldiers in an attempt to uncover the secrets of the temple.

Jurdan led the men and women under him into the temple entrance. It was a large atrium that he was walking into. He saw old statues of figures that he didn’t know. Some were fully formed and some were rubble and sand. Jurdan could feel something out of place in this temple. It felt like the Force but strangely odd. Jurdan could hear something coming from inside the temple. It was a moaning. Suddenly he saw it. There were translucent forms coming toward him. They weren’t floating in the air but they seemed to drift over the ground quickly. They came towards him and changed as they got closer. They seemed to transform into a more aggressive form and they started to attack.

Panic. Confusion.

Warhost soldiers were strategically retreating, running a couple of meters before turning and providing cover fire for the others. Their shots passing right through the spectres even though they knew that it wasn’t effective, they kept doing it to keep their minds focused on the training and not succumb to fear.

Evelynn and Lilith split off from each other once the Warhost soldiers started leap frogging each other in retreat. Each pausing with their groups to focus on the spectres, trying to get a sense of what they were up against. Both realized that the platform had been booby trapped, but Lilith was clueless as to what it had been and why she didn’t see it before it was sprung. Something that vexed her during their retreat back to the atrium.

Evelynn and Lilith burst in the atrium before their soldiers did, immediately yelling orders to run to the technicians who were staring at the access tunnels that the teams had gone down. Moments later, Tasha’Vel and Armad’s group rushed from their tunnel, soldiers first followed closely by Tasha and Armad. Armad was throwing a telekinetic blast back towards the spectres down their tunnel as he exited. Tasha glanced over at Evelynn and Lilith and caught the raised eyebrow from Evelynn, presumably about the Force blast.

“Does that actually work?” Evelynn yelled out. Continuing to run, Tasha shook her head no.

Armad heard the query and saw his partner's response, “It makes me feel better!”

Darkness cloaked the Tarenti as they approached the Temple, hearing the cacophony of blasters that banished the sweet silence of the night. When they arrived, their eyes beared witness to the brutal efficiency of the Temple and of times long past. Without words, the Tarenti circled behind the swarm and began cutting their way into the horde. The feeling of flesh splitting open as their blades pierced through the decayed flesh itched its way up each of the Tarenti’s arm, sadistic smiles covering their faces.

Among them was a single Gungan, covered in oxidized blood and dripping with satisfaction. He wielded a pair of daggers, the sound of bone breaking as their blades pierced through the skulls of his enemies causing the Gungan to smile wickedly. He may have followed the Gray path, but inside Kah Manet slept a darkness more cold than any the Keepers could spawn. As soon as one of the Guardians was dealt with, he would move to another. When one fell before him, he would relinquish his blade from it’s corpse and throw it into another. His tongue shot out with deadly speed and wrapped around the handle, yanking it from its position as the muscle retracted into his mouth; the dagger falling gently into his hand ready to strike again.

The shuttle hummed as the Nihilgenia departed, a perimeter immediately set up before the stone structure dubbed the Temple. Dust kicked up from the hovering vessel, revealing ancient stone paths that met with the staircase leading to heavy stone doors. Tall obelisks sat on either side, a purple and green flame burning at their peak. When the soldier ascended and approached the doors they could see an intricate carving of a craft forgotten by civilized society. Red marble and golden figures adorned the decoration, depicting an act of savage sacrifice. With a hiss and loud groan, the doors opened and revealed the denizens of the Temple. The eyes of the Nihilgenia, covered by helmets, widened in unison as they saw the eyes of their foe.

Rotted and cloudy, vacant dead eyes stared at the black clad troopers as the beings shuffled towards them. Jaws hanging agape, the creatures known as Guardians shuffled slowly forward, their feet scraping against the stone ground. Instincts driving them, the Nihilgenia fired into the crowd before them. The sound of blaster fire evoked a guttural moan from the crowd, who switched from a slow shuffle into a frenzied charge. The prior lackadaisical group became a swarm of vengeance and hatred as it descended on the group, dulled nails and flattened teeth gnashing against their armored opponents. With every shot of a blaster, the Guardians seemed to grow only more determined to gorge on the flesh of their enemies.

Its sometime hard trying to be what your not , so be happy with who you are

To all her closest friends and Clan-mates Tahiri is loyal and true to a fault, never betraying them, being passionate, and kind, and if anyone she cares about is threatened, she will unleash a fury that shows she is truly Sith.

After hearing the new of Clan Naga Sadow being attacked by the Guardians of the Temple. After being torn limb from limb. Tarentum came to the rescue. Who survived the attacked quickly sent out communications to nearby Tarentum. Tarentum answered. Tarentum was in shock with the new of Naga Sadow being attacked while entering the Temple. They answered the call, allies of Tarentum, they quickly landed upon the temple with aid for the survivors. There were people dying on the floor, bloody and in pieces, scarred to death by the ghost. The survivors managed to get out the distress call.

I myself Magik was on site, their close were torn apart and body parts were missing from the bodies. Dismembered body parts were gathered at the entrance. They had been mutilated while still alive. Screaming survivors, they were crying for help. There was nothing we could do, they were dying on the ground. There were three survivors who were in shambles, there minds had been possessed by the ghost. Don't ask me how they managed to make it back to the entrance alive with the remaining survivors. Their minds were a mess. Blood and tears rolled down their faces.

No one was going back into the Temple, we needed answers. No one seemed to be coherent after the attack, but the three survivors who managed to make it out alive. The were shivering with fear and afraid of what will happen if they go back into the Temple.

They approached the Temple not knowing what was in store. The Temple was vast, deep and dark. They had found it after years of searching. The had landed upon it, it was strange feeling for everyone in Clan. The Temple had been calling to them in dark ways of the force. As they entered cold chills rush through their bodies. They feeling surrounded them as they ascended the entrance. Torches lit as they walked down the cavern, there was no visibility, but they were seeing strange visions. The visions were getting more clear as they got deeper into the Temple. Soon the visions turned into hallucinations and ghost sightings. It was all around them, they were seeing ghosts as they descended the Temple. They only got so far before the ghost turned into incantations. The ghost stories were real, every member of the clan were trembling with fear. They had to stop not far into there expedition. The ghost came alive, they were not prepared for what was about to happen. The ghost were protecting the Temple, they began to attack members of Naga Sadow. Some of their torches went out, with only a couple torches lit, visibility was impaired. The ghost wallowing the halls with a loud screeching noise. It was so loud they couldn't take it. They had to retreat back to the entrance. Blood drenched their shirts as they scattered back to safety. They had been torn apart, limb by limb.

A Gray Jedi willing to do what must be done in order to keep the balance of the Dark Side of the Force and the Light Side of the Force.

Old friend, tried and true With a blade as dark and deep Of an ocean's wave blue

To defend is life To attack is certain death, Know which one to use.

Magik is the chosen Knight of Tarentum!

Kul’tak Drol: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/13819/character_sheet Laren Uscot: https://www.darkjedibrotherhood.com/members/12946/character_sheet

"You summoned me, Drol?" said Laren Uscot.

"Mmm, indeed.” Kul'tak Drol responded.

“So what's so important that you called me here in the middle of the ni -"

“I have felt a disturbance in the Force, Laren,” Kul’tak said, cutting Laren off. “There were - glimpses of our suffering.”

“Listen, I understand you Force-types and your rituals about as much as I understand anatomy. How the hell does this whole ‘vision’ thing work -”

"Silence," Kul'tak hissed.

"..."

“Do you not see the significance?” Kul’tak roared. “I have killed more sentients than I can count. I have wielded power that can bring rulers to their knees. The Force is my weapon and my servant, and yet - yet it also seems to be our undertaker.”

“What are you saying, Drol? Are we in danger?” Laren finally asked.

"Were you followed, Laren? Who have you spoken to in the last two rotations? Where have you been?"

"First you speak of visions, and now you seek to interrogate me?” Laren growled.

"Where, Laren?"

"I had business to take care of off-world for House Ajunta Pall. You know I can't talk about it. What is this about, man?"

"Can I trust you?" rumbled Kul’tak.

"About as far as your blade can reach. But in our mutual endeavor, we want the same outcome."

“The Force works in mysterious ways. Even now the shroud of the Dark Side obscures our future. Yet it has shown us this. Why now?”

“Listen, I have questions about your ‘vision’ in a second. But I need real details, man. Speak!”

Kul'tak sighed. "You deny your association with the Inquisitorius, but I have embraced it. One learns to wade through the sea of lies and villainy, listening for the smallest shreds of truth. I have real evidence that..." Kul'tak's voice was no more than a whisper when he continued, "They suspect us, Laren."

"... Are you certain?" Laren finally asked.

"I would risk my life to prove this truth," Kul'tak replied.

"I'll take you up on that someday," the Pantoran quipped.

"They will have dispatched an asset to confirm their suspicions, if there isn't one here already."

"But would they inform the Dread Lord of their suspicions? She is, after all, the source of our deceit."

"Doubtful. She is as loyal to the Inquistorius and the Brotherhood as it is to the Clans. Both see the other as tools to be used, being kept at an arm's length - no more, and no less. But Laren..." the Warrior trailed off. "My concern lies in the fact they suspect us in the first place. How do they know?"

"Considering we're still alive, there is no way they have any solid evidence. Perhaps our association here has been noticed."

"Or perhaps an analysis has determined we have the most to gain and the least to lose if Selika was removed from power?" The Zabrak mused.

“There is no way to be sure.”

"I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Kul’tak brooded.

“Like any good spy, your loyalty lies to yourself first - I hope.”

“I see all, question all.”

"Well spoken. In this case, we have far too many unanswered questions, and no answers to show for it. You discovered all this… from a vision?” Laren asked softly.

“By having a connection with the Force, it will sometimes provide users glimpses in time. In this case, it was our future.”

“The future, hmm? Are the outcomes you see absolute?”

“It is never for certain. For all the knowledge and power we possess, not even the Sith can control their fate. But there are times when the Force acts of its own will, seeking to manipulate events beyond our control.”

“Is it the Force at work, or an enemy we have not foreseen?”

“Everyone beyond this room is a potential enemy to our goals. Friends are a luxury for the weak, and the Jedi.”

"Choice words, Kul'tak," Laren said, laughing.

"The Grand Master's hand touches all. Can I trust you to stay the course, mercenary?"

"You ask the wrong question. I - like you - trust no one, not even myself. I put what trust I can muster into something. Is it better to trust in an unknown future, or accept that our enemies know they have won?"

"..."

"Have you nothing to add?" Laren finally asked.

"For a mere mercenary, you carry a wisdom beyond your status."

"Wisdom is great, but I've learned to respect the man with the bigger stick - or in your case, claws. And that precious Force of yours."

“What use are claws and my power against a potential doom we cannot avoid?”

“You’re the man with the visions, Kul’tak. You tell me.”

Kylex and the team Slaughtered inquisitors three four, five, six, and ten

Yes, Shadow is proud Kylex made a toy out of them But much needs done now

The assassin team Though they will always succeed Must find a new home

Silent Citadel, Caina, Cocytus, and more were destroyed in war

Pravus will suffer But for now we must abide On this space station

We will when ready Strike and cause Pravus' end First we stay silent

Oh Honored Guest Written by Aedile Mystic Alara Deathbane (Dossier #12681)

“The Zelosians shouldn’t be kept waiting long,” Quaestor Braecen Kaeth addressed his new apprentice with his orders. “Ensure you leave swiftly after this conversation. We don’t have much time before the Grand Master tries to further our demise and gets involved in our plans.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” Alara held her hand over heart as a salute, bowed slightly, and turned to walk out of the meeting quarters.

“Alara…” Braecen called.

The Aedile turned to her Quaestor in response. Braecen stood over the large table and leaned on his clenched fists that were propped on its surface. “Please… hurry back soon. We are depending on your success and your safe return.”

Without a word, Alara nodded and continued on her way. She pressed her left arm against the swiveling door to exit and began summoning a shuttlecraft from the space station’s bay.

*Finally. A chance to get off this damn hunk of metal. Been three long fragging weeks. *

Her beloved Clan had been stranded there ever since Grand Master Pravus marooned them there by destroying the entire Cocytus System. All their wonderful homeworlds: Judecca, Caina, Ptolomea; they were all destroyed for Pravus’ schemes for power. Anger rippled throughout Alara’s veins at the mere thought of what happened. The half-Sephi’s ears flexed upwards and downwards as she shook her head and continued down the corridor to the nearest elevator pad. She stepped carefully onto the one at the end of the metallic grey hall and let out a sigh as she descended.

Zelosians... Plant people. I’m being sent there to see if they know anything about restoring worlds. I guess the Clan Summit wants to try and revitalize our planets. Can’t say I blame them for trying, but a bunch of emerald haired aliens probably won’t change anything we’ve gone through. And what’s stopping Pravus from blowing them up again?

She descended down to the shuttle bay and was met by a FA-5 Valet Droid. Over the valet droid’s black matte chest was the name encryption “VALETINO”.

“Good day, Mystic Deathbane,” Valetino’s robotic, overdramatically masculine voice reverberated from the droid system’s chest. “I will be your chauffeur to Zelos II. The sugar cargo is already packed for the journey.”

At this point, Alara couldn’t help but let out a laugh. So THAT is what we are trading them for their services. Typical Xen. I better be prepared to deal with some whacky Zelosians.

“Thank you, Valetino. I am ready to depart if the shuttle is ready,” the half-Sephi responded kindly.

“In that case, follow me.” Valetino gestured his hand forward and walked down the long bridged hallway that hung over the shuttle bay’s floor. While Alara followed the droid, she sent a quick text to her sister Shadow from her datapad:

GOING ON A MISSION. BE BACK SOON. FEED ARTEMIS AND FORREN.

Before the pair reached their assigned shuttle, Alara received a text back from the Battle Team Leader:

WILL DO. TWINS AND I WILL MISS YOU. STAY SAFE.

Alara smiled and let her left arm hang by her side. She instinctively felt under her cloak to check if her lightsabers and blaster were clipped onto her belt. Her query was answered by her fingertips with positive response. Right. All good to go. I wonder if I should text Jorm to let him know I’ll be gone. Eh… He’s a smart Kiffar. He’ll text Shadow if he’s looking for me.

Alara had already warned her beloved Jorm Na’trej that she might have to skip out on dinner at the space station’s cafeteria anyway. He shouldn’t be too worried if she doesn’t arrive. Before Alara could follow her assigned droid up the ramp to their shuttle, that particular Kiffar popped out from around the corner on the path.

“Oy! Why didn’t you let me know you were going on a mission?!” Jorm held his arms out towards his favored Dark Jedi and flashed that rather coy grin towards her.

“I thought it wouldn’t be right to spread information on my mission for the Summit,” Alara fibbed, “Sorry dear. Wishing me off, I suppose?”

“Ha! Cute, ‘Lara. I’m accompanying you, of course.” He stated proudly, bringing his arms down to rest on his hips to accentuate his confident posture.

“Miss Deathbane, I don’t recall receiving data on a passenger…” Valetino looked towards the Mystic with an empty face, though his words held an air of snarkiness.

“Yes, Valetino. My apologies. You see, my beloved Kiffar has a habit of crashing Summit Party Plans. It’s fine, he’s not going to join us.” Alara spoke plainly while glaring over towards Jorm in her peripheral.

“Oh c’mon love, you can’t brush me off that easily.” Jorm headed towards the pair and reached his arms around the woman’s hips. At first Alara hesitated, but her gut feeling said she shouldn’t stop his accompanying her. She couldn’t help but flash a smile towards him and lift her hands to meet his.

“Alllriiighttt. You can come. But please play nice. This is a diplomatic mission.” She stressed sternly, but couldn’t help ending her words by landing a kiss on his cheek.

“Unfortunately are the seats are taken, Mystic Alara Deathbane. There will be no room for passengers in this shuttlecraft.” Valetino responded.

“Ohh, that’s where you’re wrong you rather strange-sounding bucket of bolts. Alara and I only need one seat between the two of us.” Jorm swung around his half-Sephi’s side and winked as he led her further onto the ramp towards the ship’s entrance.

Without a word, Valetino followed the pair into the craft and managed the controls within the ship to call the ramp back under the door. The door hummed and clicked shut, safely air-locking the interior from anything on the outside. The Sentients promptly hopped into the chair to the right of the pilot’s seat and relaxed in each other’s arms.

“Did you bring food?” Jorm nudged Alara’s right pointed ear with his nose lovingly.

“No, there might be a protein bar in my belt pack though.” Alara’s hand left Jorm’s arm and pushed her cloak backwards to pull at the bag clasp on her belt.

“Lemme get that for you…” Jorm traced her arm with his and began tickling her exposed abdominals. A hearty laugh escaped from Alara’s chest as she attempted to grab the Battlemaster’s hands and push them away from her. Jorm began to join her in laughing until the impatient droid interrupted:

“Miss Deathbane, shall we depart?” Valetino clipped himself into his seatbelt and placed his hands on the steering wheel while he turned to look at her.

“Of course, Valetino!” Alara panted out her words, breathless after laughing.

The droid nodded in obedience and flicked the shuttle’s driving controls on. After a few clicks and flips of more switches, the droid thrusted the steering wheel forward and piloted the shuttlecraft towards the shuttle bay’s large and opening exit.

With Jorm by her side, time flew by extremely fast. It felt like they arrived within the atmosphere of Zelos II after merely a few giggles exchanged between the couple.

“Be quiet now, Jorm. I need to contact the landing personnel on the planet.” Alara kissed her Kiffar’s cheek and began to click various coding on her datapad.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” Jorm winked at her and held a free hand over his mouth. Alara smirked back at him, and then continued pressing keywords into her coding. Shortly afterwards, a hologram of an elder female Zelosian pixelated from her datapad screen.

“Good day, Aedile Mystic Alara Deathbane of Scholae Palatinae. We have been expecting your arrival.” the female’s soothing voice echoed from the hologram.

“Good day to you, Commander. I appreciate your welcome so generously. Could you send my droid the coordinates in which you would like us to land in?” Alara spoke politically.

“Yes, Miss Alara. I will do just that. A welcome committee, including myself, will meet you at the coordinates given now.” Alara could see the Zelosian’s hologram waved its arm to an invisible character to its left and turn back to face the half-Sephi.

“Looking forward to meeting you, Commander.” Alara nodded and shut down the hologram. Its pixels folded back into the screen.

“You’re so sexy when you’re on your best behaviour for Commanders.” Jorm teased Alara with a rub of his nose against her chiseled cheek. Alara allowed herself one more giggle until she stood up and faced the door. The shuttle was already descending upon the planet per the Commander Zelosian’s instruction.

“Thank you dear. But I’m afraid I will have to keep this front for a while. You should stay here. The Summit didn’t tell the Commander you’d be accompanying me. They aren’t expecting a Kiffar and will be suspicious if they see you.” Alara straightened her cloak and belt as she spoke. “In fact, you should hide in the bathroom pod. They shouldn’t even spot you in the window.”

“Awh c’mon, I’m not that distracting with my beauty.” Jorm Na’trej sighed. “But I suppose you’re right. I’ll be good and listen. Stay safe. Shoot me a text if you need me to pummel you out of there.” Jorm kissed his beloved’s cheek and headed towards the bathroom pod as requested. Alara gave him a quick hug from behind and repositioned herself in front of the door.

Valetino looked over his chair to speak. “Landing now, Aedile.”

Alara nodded in thanks and straightened her posture while she crossed her arms behind her in a stature of delegation. Jorm kept the door open just a smidge until Alara’s smiling eyes met with his. With the click of a button by the droid, the shuttle’s door slid open and tucked itself under the craft. A ramp then descended upon the bright green grass of Zelos II.

As Alara walked down the ramp before her, she kept her head held high and smiled gracefully at the various Zelosians who came to greet her. Two Zelosians were on each side of the elder whom she had spoken with before over her datapad. Two males at the far sides that dressed in ivory and light viridian armor plating, their emerald eyes peering from inside intricately detailed metal helmets that held engraved flowering and various forms of flora. Two ladies-in-waiting stood beside the Commander herself and were draped in light green and white fabrics that covered only what was required by morale. The elder herself was draped in violet and yellow fabrics that were sewn specifically to mimic the shape of an iris; a plant that grew long ago on a Human planet. Alara’s ears twitched in recognition as a memory was sparked to life in her mind: the iris was a peace offering to the Zelosians by Humans long ago. This dress must be a symbol of peace for her too. The Mystic couldn’t help but admire both the beauty and masculinity of the creatures before her. As instructed to do by Xen, the Mystic bowed and kissed the elder Commander’s hand.

“Thank you so much for receiving me, Commander.” Alara stayed in her bowed position until she could step back and straighten herself out.

“Thank you for your kindness to us, Alara. I would love to receive you into the palace of Zelos II. Walk alongside me, dear.” the Commander’s voice was even smoother when heard in person. It was almost as each syllable she breathed gave more life to Basic tongue. The elder began to walk down a path to her right, her entourage devotedly following. As Alara stepped forward in attempts to follow, the elder’s group to the right of her stepped aside to give the half-Sephi room to step in. The Dark Jedi smiled, her ears perking upwards at the pair. The Zelosian lady-in-waiting and guard giggled at the sight of it. Happy with providing some joy to them, Alara turned to face forwards and admired the beautiful scenery around her.

Everything was lush with plant life. Beautifully pruned hedges shaped in the images of warriors, flowers, creatures, and past Commanders lined the pathway around them all the way to the palace. This particular palace had large curvatures in its architecture and pointed upwards towards the bright sun that gave light to this beautiful planet. The stone seemed to be that of beige marble and curled intricately around pillars and floor levels. Large bulb-like lanterns hung in symmetrical angles and locations across the castle. Flower bushes and plots of bright blues and yellows were lined around the palace and hedges. In the far distance, Alara’s amber eyes could spot the peaks of mossy green mountains and valleys that took over this particular biome of the planet. Her eyes couldn’t help but flicker with delight and awe.

“You are a lover of nature, are you Miss Alara? Perhaps that is why your name is Deathbane.” The Commander spoke kindly and faced the woman with a smile as she walked.

“Partially, I suppose. I’ve always been attuned with nature. My name was given to me after I conquered death as a small child, though. Before then, it was Night.”

“Ah yes, that definitely was not the right name for you. Someone who shines so brightly could not be shrouded by mere darkness.” The Elder complimented her.

“Thank you, Commander. That is very touching.” Alara spoke earnestly.

The group continued onwards down the path in silence and eventually made it to the palace entrance. More beautifully decorated females and males of the planet greeted them in bows and curtseys as they walked past. The palace archways allowed for most of the light in the halls, but brilliantly cyan flickering torches also lined the main hall on pillars that stood to the sides of the carpet on which they now walked. Incandescent paintings came alive across the palace walls. As they continued on, the paintings’ characters seemed almost to follow them to the main throne room. Large plant like chandeliers emitting more cyan light into the room. The throne, being the focal point of the room, was a rose gold color and was engraved with firefly-like creatures. The cushions were a delicate ivory. A large tapestry of a beautiful garden hung behind the throne. The Commander left the group to sit on her beautiful display. Her two ladies-in-waiting sat gracefully upon small ivory pillows that were laid around the base of the throne. The guards still stood in their positions next to Alara.

Once again, Alara remembered her Consul’s instruction and kneeled down to honor the Commander before her. She did not move an inch until her Sephi ears twitched in response to the elder’s voice:

“Greetings, Aedile Alara Deathbane of Clan Scholae Palatinae from the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. We are honored to offer our hospitality to you. How can we be of assistance to you?”

“Your kindness and hospitality truly brings life to my soul, Commander. This matter I bring along with me is one of misfortune and desolation. Clan Scholae Palatinae’s home, the Cocytus System as you know it, has been completely eradicated. Grand Master Pravus has turned against the Brotherhood for his own endeavors, and in doing so destroyed our home planets. We have come to you, Commander, and this glorious planet, in hopes that you may have an answer for our system. Can we somehow restore life and balance once more to it?” Alara stepped forward, turned on her datapad, and released a hologram of the desolate system into the air for all to see. The congregation within the room gasped and scoffed at what horrid sights Grand Master Pravus caused. Alara was sure to keep a measure of sorrow in her eyes as she gazed at the Elder ruler. It was a few nervous inhales on Alara’s behalf before the Elder spoke again.

“Alara, we truly sympathize with you during these dark and desolate times. Grand Master Pravus has truly done you and your clan, as well as the rest of the universe wrong. Life may come to your system once more, but only if the universe allows it. We Zelosians do not have such a power. It is true that we have worked on it for several decades now, but we have not perfected it enough to do this task you have asked from us.” She waited a moment, then stood up and gently traced Alara’s chin with an index finger. “But do not fret, Miss Deathbane. We will do what we can in our power. Your Clan, despite its usual mischievous circumstance, has been good to us. We offer to our ally gifts of our people: fertilizer, Zelosian fruit trees, and hearty soil that will not be so easily destroyed as your system’s was. Take these as a token of our peace.” The Elder turned away and sat once again upon her chair.

When the Commander was seated comfortably, Alara continued with her speech: “Commander, you and your people are so generous and loyal. Thank you for your tokens which are highly revered and truly truly appreciated by my people. This kindness will not go unnoticed. I have come bearing gifts as well…” The Mystic reached into her cloak and pulled out one single sugar cube. She held it flat onto her palm and offered it for all to see. Giggles of excitement and joy filled the room. Even the Commander cracked a graceful smile.

“You are truly friends of ours, Alara. Thank you very much. Stay as long as you like for festivities and feasting.”

“There is plenty more where this came from. Send some guards down to my ship and they will find the rest of what awaits your Highness. Thank you for your hospitality once again. I will stay until sunset, then return to my people who require this aid you have presented us. The kindness of the Zelosians this day will not go forgotten.” Alara stepped forward confidently and handed the sugar cube cautiously to the Commander who gladly received it. A snap of the Commander’s fingers triggered music and dancing to blossom into the room. Servants and ladies-in-waiting came from the arched halls and brought plates upon plates of delicious-looking fruits and vegetation.

After an hour or so, Alara was eating a delicious melon-type fruit while chatting with some ladies-in-waiting while some serious guards dragged a rather sheepish-looking Kiffar into the throne room. Female Zelosians ooh-ed and giggled at the sight of it. The Commander however, who was just finished her meal, stood up and glared at the sight.

“Your Highness! We found this Kiffar skulking about in Miss Deathbane’s shuttle while we were unloading cargo! This fiend must have attempted to stop Miss Deathbane on her mission home!” A guard shouted, peering down at Jorm suspiciously.

“I was not! Alara, my dear, tell them I’m no harm to you!” Jorm frowned up at the guard.

“Is he truly no harm? Or shall we throw him in the dungeon?” the Commander turned to Alara who was seated at her right hand.

“He is no harm to me or to any of you. I apologize most deeply, Commander. You see, this is Jorm Na’trej: Battlemaster of Clan Scholae Palatinae, and also my partner. He was unassigned to this visit, you see, yet still managed to sneak onboard on the intent of keeping me safe.” Alara spoke carefully as she stared at the Kiffar in both seriousness and attempt to not laugh at his demise. “When I discovered his presence on my ship, I told him to stay behind in efforts not to confuse your Highness. Though my feeble attempts in doing so seemed to have made it a concern for your guards. My humblest apologies.” At the end of the Mystic’s sentence, the guards quickly unhanded Na’trej and helped him to his feet.

“Ah… I see. Well considering what your people have gone through, Alara, I understand his intentions in keeping you safe. He is very welcome to join us in the feast.

“Thank you! I know it’s not a custom, but you don’t happen to have wine handy, do you?” Jorm hopped up from the ground and dusted himself off as he walked towards the Commander. He finished his sentence by giving her a kiss on the hand.

“Of course, we keep it around for visitors such as yourself. I’m happy to observe that even sneaky stowaways such as yourself have such manners. Welcome yourself to a bottle. And perhaps since your favored partner is here, Alara, you might consider staying the night in the palace?”

“Well…” Alara began. Jorm sat next to her and pleaded with mischievous, playful eyes. “I suppose so. Thank you so much for your generosity.”

“You’re very welcome. My guards will load our gifts onto your ship so that you are ready to take off after breakfast. Let the celebrations of our friendship continue!” the Commander sat down and raised a glass. Members of the nobility mimicked her stance. Jorm received a bottle from a nearby servant and raised it in cheers. He flashed a grin at Alara and gave her a wink. When everyone drank together their toast, Jorm nudged the half-Sephi beside him and spoke softly into her ear: “Ya know, our system may be destroyed and all, but I haven’t felt this hopeful in some time. I bet the bedrooms here have quite the vegetation and vines which we can utilize to our benefit tonight.”

“How so, Jester of mine?” Alara nudged back.

“Well, let’s just say you’re going to be snuggled quite tightly in bed while I help you enjoy this night on an exotic world.” He winked again. Alara’s cheeks colored as a laugh escaped her chest.

*Well, this wasn’t what I had hoped for in this journey, but at least all’s well that ends well. *