Fiction Gallery

You've felt the anger, fear and hatred while going above and beyond your inner Force. You've turned to the Dark Side!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1n1JMtiMutmV0lzwIWudVMPK7BuBK3x_7vRXis9SPH34/edit?usp=drive_web

Assuming links are cool.

  Now in a new system, the ghosts of his past are slowly starting to catch up to him in the worst possible ways, with the worst possible timing. This is something that can’t possibly be avoided. It will set him on the path that he needs to be  on. For when the galaxy wants something to happen it will make it so, no matter what it has to do to accomplish the task of what it wants.

  Corellia seemed like a beautiful memory from long ago compared to recent events. Mactire sighed, remembering the planet and the pain he caused on it before stumbling his way across the Galaxy into the welcoming arms of Clan Naga Sadow. But as they say, the past always has a way of catching up to someone. In the Clan, Mactire appeared to be a Grey Jedi with anger issues. It was a mask for his darker nature. He was not quite Sith, yet still darker than most Grey Jedi would even think possible. 

      The transport ship was not one that Mactire would ever have thought he’d be on in his short lifetime, but then again nothing was ever as it seemed to him these days. The ship that he was stuck on was a prison transport vessel sent from one of the neighboring planets that Clan Naga Sadow sometimes helped out with. Though how he got this detail was still bothering him. What troubled him more was that the Inquisitors sent him an encrypted message.

      An unknown figure appears on the viewing screen in long robes. The image flickered as it comes more into view, though the figure remains fully cloaked so as not to show it’s face. 

 A sweet, mysterious voice comes from the image. “Greetings Knight. If you are receiving this message then all is not lost. A member of your Clan has recently been attacked. The creature of this attack is what appears to be a Mandalorian, the cause was unknown.”

 The figure fades from view and is replaced by an image of Qyreia firing off her blaster against an armored opponent. The Zeltron is running behind what appears to be rubble from a building, firing blindly behind her as she slides over more of the rubble for cover. She checks the clip of her blaster pistol, making sure it has enough charge left in it as the armored figure comes more into view.

The attacker appears to be in Mandalorian armor, though the color of it can’t be made out, due to the holo image of the recording. However Mactire can see clearly that there are a few engravings on the armor that aren’t with any known Mandalorian Clan. As the figure gets closer to Qyreia’s hiding spot it draws it’s blaster rifle and fires on full burst.

 “Come out here and fight like a true warrior!!” It yells. The voice sounding somewhat synthetic with a mix of malice but hidden enough so that a gender can’t be guessed.

 “Oh really? Fight like a warrior? How about we just, I don’t know play pazaak and call it quits?” Qyreia says back at the opponent.

 More blaster fire comes hurtling towards Qyreia as she ducks, trying to stay in her cover and not get shot. 

 As the Mandalorian stops firing for a brief moment, Qyreia pops up quickly and lines up a perfect shot at the power cell of the blaster rifle and hits it only using three quick blasts. 

 The Mandalorian laughs, as it's left hand is missing as well as most of its left arm. A vibro knife is pulled from a back slot, as it continues to march forward. 

 “But I just shot your arm off, how are you still walking? And not in, I don’t know, pain?!” Qyreia asks with immense shock on her face. 

“Oh this? It’s just a flesh wound, can’t you tell?” The Mandalorian says whimsically.

 “Okay then. You just stand right there and I’ll be back with a bigger blaster.” Qyreia says mockingly and takes off running for what looks like a small transport ship.

 The recording cuts back to the cloaked figure. “Knight, you are going to be part of a unit that will track and find this assailant or group. You must not fail, and you most take them down with extreme hostility. The coordinates are being sent to the Captain now. As for the members of your unit, well they are already with you, and so is the Commander of the unit.” A slyness comes from her voice as the room suddenly fills with gas.

 Mactire tries to concentrate upon the Force to create a barrier in order to help him, but it’s futile and he knows it as his eyes slowly to close. He can feel the weight of his body falling towards the ground.

The doors hiss open as guards walk into the room, lifting the unconscious Mactire slowly up off the ground. 

  “Make sure you put the suppression collar on him or else we’ll have one hell of a fight on our hands.” One of the guards mutters.

  “Oh yeah sure like it's my fault the last target got away. YOU had the collar, and YOU forgot to put it on. Now help me get him into the transport pod.” The other guard mutters, clamping the collar tight around Mactire’s neck.

  Several hours later, Mactire wakes up to commotion from someone sitting next to and across from him. His head feels like it a Krayt dragon sat on it, or he had to much of Atra’s special blend from the Naga Sadow cantina again.

 “Well loooook who’s finally awake? It’s the guy who didn’t have to walk with guards and cuffs on the ship. How’s it feel now to be shackled up like us common folk?” A female Iridonian says sarcastically at him.

  She has black tattoos on her face with tan skin. Her eyes are purple like amethyst stones, her hair is auburn and pulled back in a ponytail. She has six horns forming a crown around her head.

. “Really? How about we settle this in the ring and I’ll show you how uncommon we are. What do you say?” Mactire quips back, smirking while slowly looking around the area.

 “Anytime suga. Maybe even sooner than you think.” She says maliciously with a hint of seduction.  

Great, Mactire thinks, another Iridonian with a chip on their shoulder. Why do they always find me? Does the Force just hate me that much?

As this question runs circles in his head, he continues to look around the area. It seems like a standard small prison transport shuttle. Though why they are the only two on board, it seemed odd to him.

   “You know the flight plan or what the fraq is going on?” Mactire looked at the Iridonian.

   “Maybe, why should I tell you? You’re a prisoner just like me, didn’t you pay attention?” She says with slight aggravation in her voice. 

Mactire shrugs, feeling the weight of the collar for the first time against his neck. He slowly tries to reach out with the Force to see if he can break it off of him. As he starts to lightly touch the Force a shock of pain goes through his body, making him clasp his jaw firmly, groaning in pain.

 The Iridonian starts laughing hysterically. “Ohh boy. Now that was funny. I mean your face looked like you just ate Bantha Poo-doo. I mean, I didn’t know human faces could look like that with pain. What did you do think of? Or do?”

 Mactire groans, “Well what I did was ask you a question and as for what I thought about well, I thought about this girl this one time.”

 “Oh sure a girl this one time, like I haven’t heard that before in my life. I swear you humans are strange ones.” She says mockingly. 

 Mactire shrugs again, sighing lightly. Escaping is going to be harder if he can’t channel the Force. And how did the prison ship have a Force collar on board? They weren’t even made anymore, where they? These questions and more kept arising in his mind, as he recalled the transmission from before he wound up here. There was something that still felt odd about it to him. 

 “So you gonna answer my question, or do you want me to beg?” Mactire asks the Iridonian. 

She sighs heavily. “Fine, might as well kill time, but not much to tell you. We landing on some planet in an area outside a combat and quarantine zone. That's all I know. Someone from the system requested it.”

  “Hmmm. I do remember a transmission about a combat zone, and a request for help but the quarantine part is new to me.” Mactire says as the shuttle starts to slightly shake.

The intercom crackles as a voice speaks from it. “If you’re awake listen up, if not, well you will be soon. We are docking with the Yaris soon. Have a nice day, scum.” A hiss from the static of the intercomm cuts out as the ride gets a lot more rough.

  “Wait we’ve arrived already? But I didn’t get my complimentary drink yet!” Mactire yells.

   “Oh, stow it human, we’re about to be in a worse place than before now.” The Iridonian says with both shock and fear in her voice. 

  “Why the fear? Finally get shocked?” Mactire smugly replies.

    “No you nerf-herder! The Yaris is a Star Destroyer with enough fire power on it to destroy a planet. Well, enough to turn the planet’s surface to dust,” she says with more fear escaping through her words than she would like. 

The shuttle comes to a halt, the landing gear screeches as it slightly scrapes against the floor of the Yaris’s docking bay. 

 A security force with heavy weapons, shock batons, and covered in full battle armor stand outside the hatch awaiting orders. One of the troops has a red stripe on their helmet with the insignia of a Phoenix on it, along with a yellow cloak.

 “Alright troops remember these two are the final ones arriving. They are considered the most dangerous. Anything can happen, but we need their help. So take them alive if possible. If not we’ll write this plan off as a failure and proceed to the ultimate solution. Understand?” a metallic voice says through the helmet.

“YES SIR!” all the troops say, gearing up and readying themselves for anything. 

Mactire cricks his neck slowly as the harnesses that were holding him and the other prisoner in their seats become undone. Standing up, he slowly rubs the back of his neck, remembering that the Force suppression collar is still on him. He looks to the back hatch as the sounds of the magnetic locks slowly start to disengage and the hiss of pressure equalizing from the compartment to the outside slowly happens.

 The guards tense up as the hatch slowly lowers to the ground. All of their weapons raise quickly and aim at Mactire and the other prisoner. They don’t take their eyes off of them as their leader slowly steps forward. 

 “Greetings. Come on down slowly and I promise none will hurt you. If you refuse, we will be forced to come and retrieve you.” The leader says with both command and worry in their voice. 

 Mactire looks at the Iridonian and smirks whispering “Well we can have fun or we can just do what they say? What's it gonna be, girl?” Saying slyly. 

The Iridonian grins wickedly “First off, I have a name - it’s Jesca, and let’s party like Endor.” she says mockingly.

   “Alright then, Jesca, I’m Mactire. Best thing would be for us to get them in here since they can only come in a few at time. This way we’ll have the advantage.” Mactire says, eyeing both her and the open hatch.

She nods lightly and gets into a fighting stance that is all too familiar to him.

“Well, we talked it over. I gotta admit your offer does sound nice. But we’ve decided on the hard way. It’s more fun for us,” Mactire yells back.

The leader sighs heavily, slowly stepping back. This wasn’t what they signed up for. These two were supposed to be the smartest, along with the deadliest of all the people that they grabbed. Now it was time just to see how much of the rumors were true, and how much of it was just myths. 

“Alright men, they’ve made their choice. Let’s show them what we’re made of. Remember you are warriors of the Yaris,” the leader says lightly, instilling confidence into the troops.

The ones with the shock batons move up the ramp first, in three rows of four members each. They stand shoulder to shoulder, careful not to hit their comrades by accident with their weapons.

As they enter, Mactire and Jesca smile slowly, stepping backwards against the hull. The first row comes in fast once they fully get up the ramp. That’s their mistake. As they charge, they stumble over themselves slightly. Mactire leaps into the air, pulling a spinning kick, knocking two of them in the head, making them move to the right side of the ship, while Jesca grabs one by the throat, slamming the troop hard into the other one using their shock batons to knock each one out.

The second two units look at each other and then back at Mactire and Jesca. Their movements are halted somewhat possibly by wondering what to do next.

Mactire uses this brief moment to leap off the wall, and push down from the ceiling, taking down two more opponents. He quickly grabs one of the shock batons, and stabs the first trooper that he sees. While the trooper howls in pain, Jesca runs head first into another trooper knocking him back into the two troopers behind him.

The other troopers slowly start to back away. Mactire smirks and looks at them. “BOO!” he lightly shouts and they run out of the ship towards the rest of the group.

Mactire laughs. “And next time I’ll use mustard,” he shouts lightly, twirling the shock baton in his hand.

Jesca snickers at the joke, but still keeps her eyes on the potential new threats that could assault them.

“Well, I think we pissed them off, and they have blasters. Why is that when you get captured and sent to a new place you're always out numbered and they are always heavily armed?” Jesca asks with amusement in her voice.

 “Simple, every place is always compensating for something or the lack of something.”Mactire answers with pure confidence while wondering how they will get out of this without the use of the Force. 

 The leader steps up, raising their left arm up slightly. “Well then I’ll do this,” they say, while pushing a button on their arm.

Instantly, both Mactire and Jesca drop in pain, as his collar not only shocks him but her as well. They try to withstand the shock but end up collapsing to the floor, not only from the pain but the immense power that is being released into them through the collar.

Mactire pants heavily as the leader of the troops pulls their finger away from the button. “Hmmm will you listen, or do I have to make you listen?” They say with smugness.

Before Mactire can answer, troops run over to them, punching them both in the face hard, knocking them right out and making sure they are out cold. Four troops in total are dragging them out while the others tend to the ones that got hurt in the little altercation.

One trooper walks over to the leader. “Commander Tyson, what shall we do with them? They seem far more aggressive than the others that we brought, but about the same as those we’ve hired before,” he asks formally.

Commander Tyson slowly takes off his helmet. His skin is very pale, almost albino white, he is completely bald on the top of his head. His eyes are a cold steel grey. He has burn marks on the left side of his face.

 “They seemed like they would be a good use to us. We will bring them to the holding chamber and tell them if they want to be free again they will do as we say. If they argue, we will exterminate them,” he says with ice in voice.

“Understood sir.” The soldier salutes and runs off making sure that he order is being followed.

Tyson sighs lightly. All his troops are loyal, so why was it he needed to grab outsiders to help fight for his planet from this new threat? This was something that had been troubling him for a while, but he knew that orders were orders and they were never meant to be disobeyed. That was how he felt even when it didn’t sit right in his gut.

 Mactire groaned deeply, slowly waking up. This was the second time in as many hours that he could remember being knocked unconscious. He remembered many times when Sangunius, his Master upon entering Clan Naga Sadow had put him through his paces and tired him out.

Mactire was currently strapped to a chair with a metal table in front of him. The walls were flat and made with durasteel, possibly lined with other metals that made it impossible for others to know what was going in the room. This was an interrogation room - one where they relied on physical pain rather than using machines to torture their prisoners.

The hiss of a door opening behind him made Mactire turn his head and try to see who was coming into the room.

Commander Tyson stood in the door, knowing that this was a blind spot for most prisoners, but he also had a datapad with all of Mactire’s information on it. This gave him an edge, knowing that Mactire wasn’t your normal type of prisoner.

Mactire sighed heavily in an empty attempt to see who was behind him. But knowing that he didn’t hear the door close behind made him more curious as to who was there and what they wanted.

 “Alright I’ll talk. If you want a confession I’ll give you one.” Mactire said slyly.

“Oh, and why would we need a confession? You’ve done no crime that we know of as of yet. Also we know who you are, Mactire of Naga Sadow.” Tyson said very calmly. 

“Well then I guess you got me then didn’t you?” Mactire said, trying to figure out just who these people were and what they wanted.

“Oh? Did we really catch you by chance? Or did you just happen to be expendable enough from your little Clan to be given to us?” Tyson said with amusement in his voice, as he walked slowly to the table coming into view.

Placing the seed of doubt in someone’s mind always made it easier to get them to do what you want, even if they were Force users. It made them always doubt where their true loyalties lied and who - if anyone - they ever really trusted. 

 Mactire glared at Tyson with a mix of anger and pleasure. The look was almost tranquil if not for the rage that Tyson could feel emanating from his captive. This human was truly a danger amongst their midst. He was probably more dangerous than most of the troops that he commanded over the years.

  “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, or is it that you’re making my eyes sore? I can never really tell with looks like yours, baldy.” Mactire says mockingly, trying to get a rise out of Tyson.

 “So I take it you're the one sent here to either interrogate - me in which case I want an advocate - or you're here to beat something outta me in which case I have to say, you ain’t my type.” Mactire smirks, looking into the cold eyes of Tyson.

  Tyson looks back and smirks wickedly. “Oh? Well you’re not from this sector so an advocate won’t even take your case. As for beating you well, you slipped and fell while leaning over the table from your chair.”

  Tyson grabs Mactire buy the hair, clenching it tightly in his grasp. Forcing his head against the cold metal table a few times. 

  “There now, are you ready to listen?” Tyson asks with pleasure.

 Mactire spits off to the side as some blood comes up. This person with him is serious, and he can tell that he wants to get this over with quickly.

 “Alright, since you hit like a girl and know my name, might as well get this over with,” Mactire says sarcastically.

 Tyson sighs heavily. “I am commander Tyson of the Yaris. We are a simple militant group in this sector. You have been volunteered to help us reclaim one of our cities on the planet Tarthos. If you refuse, you will die. Those are the orders I’ve received. I know your history, you’re a person who cares about life, despite having to kill.. You're one of the kind of people we need for this.” He says with sincerity in his voice.

 “Man, why did you have to play that good guy crap card? Didn’t you read my record? I’m the former leader of a squad that was my family. It got destroyed, give me one good reason why I should care about orders from I don’t know who, for I don’t care what. From a planet that should have enough security on there to handle anything thrown at it,” Mactire says with slight rage in his voice.

 Tyson struck a nerve. Mactire did always try to help the innocent, defenseless people, but he wasn’t above killing anyone or anything that deserved it. Not unless it could be helped. But that wasn’t him anymore. With the loss of his squad after a major Clan feud he needed more time to lick his wounds and come back stronger. If possible, or just get lost in the systems and find someplace to stay.

Tyson kept a straight face, trying to read Mactire. Though his prisoner was still chained up and had a suppression collar on, he still seemed to unnerve the veteran. It was as if this person had seen and lost more than his file indicated. He glanced at the data pad again and smirked, looking up at Mactire. This, he thought, will get him to help. 

“Lt. Mactire, discharged from the Corellian Security Force, SWAT unit, specialized in close combat, infiltration and retrieval. Covert Ops? Hmmm now why would it say discharged but not list the reason? Unless it had something to do with the death of your entire squad?” Tyson says calmly and cautiously knowing this could blow up in his face.

 Mactire looks up and glares at Tyson with intense hatred. “I see you got my full file. Intel I got was botched, everyone but me died. I won’t lie about that. Reason for discharge is need to know only. Meaning I know and you will never ever find out. So unless you plan on killing me I do suggest you let me go before the rest of Naga Sadow finds out that I didn’t arrive where I was supposed to,” he says with the tone of a higher ranking officer.

 Tyson gulps slightly. Mactire’s tone and demeanor seem to have unnerved him. He wasn’t counting on this, but then again he had one more card to play.

“You were ordered to be here and help. By these means or worse,” Tyson says with affirmation in his voice.

Tyson slowly turned the data pad around for Mactire to see where and who gave him the orders. This was his chance to try to catch Mactire off guard and hopefully make him more compliant for the task at hand.

  “Do you recognize this symbol? It's from Naga Sadow. Only high ranking members use it. Thus someone betrayed you and I can guide you to them, If you help me first. Deal or no deal?”

Mactire lets out a low growl while looking at the symbol on the data pad. It was the insignia of Shar Dakhan. This was a devastating blow to Mactire’s pride. He had always been a loyal soldier to his House and his Clan and now this was in front of him: Proof that someone was trying to eliminate him.  

Mactire looks up slowly at Tyson, letting his eyes stare him down, hoping that there was more information.There was always something more that most people wanted. Mactire only had to play along for a while or possible for the whole show in order to find out what was really going on.

  “We have a deal on two conditions. One I don’t have to wear this collar,” Mactire says smugly.

 “Alright, and the second condition?” Tyson asks heavy concern in his voice.

“You don’t ask questions on how or why I got the job done the way that I do, just accept it.” Mactire says showing pure bravado in his face. 

“Fair enough.” Tyson says grabbing a key from his belt.

“I take you for a man of honor, so please don’t betray me or you will be gutted like a simple animal and you won’t see freedom ever again,” Tyson says, slowly undoing the chains and the collar from Mactire’s neck. 

 Mactire slowly stands up, lightly stretching as the chains and collar slowly fell to the ground. While lightly rubbing the back of his neck, he turns to face Tyson and smirks lightly.

 “So where is the locker room with my gear? And when do we get this little party of your started?” Mactire asksa

Tyson lets out a small chuckle and walks to the door, motioning for Mactire to follow him.

The door hisses open and they walk through it, Mactire following behind Tyson, slowly eyeing everything. Knowledge of this situation would help him in the long run, but also keeps his mind off of the vengeance that slowly boiled in his blood.

Tyson nods to his fellow soldiers as he guides Mactire to the hanger bay. They slowly moved to the side or just jumped into the first open room getting out of sight. The fight that had broke out earlier was well known by now, and none wants a repeat. This makes the Commander smile lightly, it gives him a reason now to up training drills for his people and push them beyond their limits. But the first thing he has to do is re secure his city and for that he needs weapons that are expendable in his eyes and in those that gave them to him.

 A female Twi’lek runs down the hallway towards them. She is wearing a black uniform with a white lab coat over it. Her eyes are jade green, a contrast to her red skin, with purple tattoos on her lekku. She has a stern look on her face that remindes Mactire of Tasha’Vel when she is pissed off at anyone in the Clan. He only hopes that she isn’t as gabby as Tasha’Vel is with a camera. 

“Commander, we need to talk about this operation. As medical officer I believe it is my duty to inform you that the risks for life on this are unacceptable and we have no knowledge of what we are truly facing on the planet's surface,” she said with command and rage in her voice.

 Tyson sighs heavily, noting that this is the worst time for this conversation. 

   “Dr. Al’Ciallmhar we have not one but two volunteers who are willing to help us out in this situation right now. In fact, here is one behind me right now. May I introduce you to Mactire,” he says stepping off to the side.

  “Doc. Pleasure to meet you. When do I get my physical?” Mactire says, slowly extending his hand.

   “Humans, always interested in sex and nothing more. Why do I put up with your species? Since you’re going down to the planet I’ll take back my objections,” she says sternly, turning around and marching away.

Mactire watches her leave and whistles low and lightly. “Well, she’s a bomb about to blow isn’t she?”

Tyson laughs lightly, shaking his head, continuing down the hallway to the turbo lifts. “Son you have know idea. She's brilliant, but when she’s angry, I wouldn’t even get in her way.”

Mactire smirks lightly, catching one final glimpse of her before she vanishes into the turbolift.

 “Well at least I thrive on rejection, well rejection and coffee.”

Tyson lets out a loud laugh, startling his troops as they enter the turbolift. He pushes the button for the hanger bay, still laughing lightly.

Mactire smirks lightly. If things go wrong, he thought, at least this moment will be a good one.

 The turbolift ride seems to take almost no time at all. As the door opens and they step off. Jesca is there waiting by what looks like an armored box. She is wearing black leather pants, heavy armor combat boots, a black tank top, with two swords strapped to her back. On her wrist it looks like she has a communication device as well as a scanner. On her belt it looked like she is packing enough explosives to possibly destroy half a planet.

 She looks up at Mactire as he walks towards her and smiles, putting some more knives in her boots. 
 “Hmmm, look what the Cathar dragged in.  Why do you look like you went ten rounds with ugly there and lost?” Acid drips from her voice as she looks at Tyson.

Macite shrugs lightly, “One round, I was chained up. Still, I think it makes me look more rugged don’t you?”

Jesca snorts and slowly walking back to to the container. “Apparently, this is yours. I’ve tried to open it to see what goodies you got. But damn thing won’t open,” she says wearily, kicking it lightly.

Tyson shakes his head, walking over to a group of guards in the distance. They come to attention as he closes in. Their conversation is barely audible though Mactire is more focused on the box than anything else at the current moment.

As Mactire approaches the box he notices that it isn’t like a normal container. It has some elements that allow only Force users to activate it. All around the box is black with the Clan Naga Sadow symbol in red, with the Sapphire Squadron emblem underneath that in violet blue. 

Mactire slowly kneels down by the crate, lightly running his hands over it, allowing the cold metal to lightly touch his skin. The box was ordered before the start of the feud with another Clan, though they lost, some more than others, it was still a symbol of hope for him.

Closing his eyes, Mactire slowly focuses on the Force to move the locks. Each one slowly clickes open. Jesca watches in wonder as they crack open. She wants to know how he is doing it but refuses to ask. Better to see and get the edge in case she needs to use him in the future.

Mactire slowly opens his eyes upon releasing the last lock. He looks over at Jesca, smirking. 

“Open up or I’ll huff and I’ll puff… Wait wrong saying…” he laughs while opening up the crate. 

  As the crate slowly opens, there is a data pad, on top of a new reddish-tan trench coat. Slowly moving the the datapad to the side, he lifts the trench coat out, the symbol of Sapphire Squad is on both shoulders. A small tear starts to form in his eyes, quickly he shakes his head, looking at the rest of the outfit, seeing that it is the Peacekeeper leathers that are also reddish-tan, along with the boots.  Beneath that was a belt with two holsters, along with twin DC-15s sidearm blaster pistols and his lightsaber. His Rancor claw bracers are there as well. 

Slowly, Mactire grabs the gear and walks away to get changed. While he was off in the a corner behind some crates, Jesca looks into what else was in the crate. She lightly touches the datapad and then notices a Jedi’s holocron off in a little corner of the box. She slowly picks it up and is examining it carefully when Mactire returns. He walks over and lightly takes it from her hand and places it into his pocket.

“Where did you get that? Those are so rare and worth a lot of money to the right collector we could make a fortune selling it.” Jesca says, with credit signs lightly showing in her eyes.

 “It’s from a woman who raised me after my parents died. It means more to me than anything else.” Mactire says slowly, kneeling down to grab the datapad. 

 “Oh so you’re into those types of women now? Well Humans are just creepy.” Jesca says while turning her head to watch Tyson.

 Tyson occasionally looks over at them, while listening as the soldier briefs him on the current situation on the planet's surface, and the status of the drop ship. He nods lightly to his underling then walks back over to Mactire and Jesca. 

  “Alright I have some good news and bad news. The good news is we have a ship for you two, so landing on the planet won’t be a problem. Bad news is we can’t drop you in any populated area other than the research facility that was build a few cycles ago.” Tyson looks at them with sincerity in his eyes, as his voice tries to mask something else.

  “Let me guess, the research facility was built to test something and it failed now we have to clean it up right? Boy you Humans love to screw around with things without thinking of their after effects don’t you? Remind me to get my money first next time” Jesca say’s while trying to hide worry with wit and sarcasm.  

Mactire sighs heavily lightly shaking his head. “I just got done with a battle, now I have to clean up someone’s mess? Ain’t no rest for the wicked. Alright do we know anything about this research facility? What they were working with? What their forces are? Do we have anything useful?” 

 Tyson shakes his head sternly “Negative, all we know is that you two have been selected to do this mission. The objectives are this, get the intel on what happened to the planet's surface, fix it, and then stop it from happening again. Failure to do so will result in you being sent to a penal colony for a long long time. As ordered from an Elder. And before you ask I don’t know who.”

  “Alright well then how the fraq are we going to get to this place grow wings and magically fly down? Oh wait be sent in by escape pods that can’t really be guided? Please tell me how we are supposed to get to this facility all mighty bald one.” Jesca says with anger.

  Tyson looks at Jesca, like a Krath Hound looking like it hasn’t eaten in weeks. “Just get on the Lambda. Oh and you're gonna pilot it. So don’t crash it or else.” he says stepping towards her.

  “Alright you two. Keep this tension between yourselves until the job is done will ya? Damn you two act like this Zeltron that I work with at times.” Mactire says slowly turning to face all the troop transport ships and the one Lambda shuttle in the docking bay

Tyson walks over to Mactire, grabs his shoulder lightly applying pressure to it. 

  “Shut up or your jaw will be broken, and so will your good hand. Now which shuttle do you think you’re both going to take?” whispers with acid on his tongue

 “Well I was hoping for something with stripes. You know that nice slimming look? But do you have anything in pink?” Mactire says, trying to get Tyson to calm down.

 Tyson grumbles letting go of Mactire’s shoulder. He points to one of the soldiers on the hangers deck. The soldier stops, as Tyson then points to the Lambda shuttle. The soldier nods and grabs a few others moving cargo onto it quickly. 

Mactire rubs his shoulder and groans lightly. Slowly walking towards the Lambda shuttle. Its grey exterior has carbon scoring on it. Some of it looks recent. There are also scratches and dent marks covering the hull. The ship itself looks like it has taken a beating over the years and still keeps getting up to fight.

Jesca walks over slowly and nods approvingly before going up the ramp towards the cockpit. Mactire sighs following suit. The hairs on the back of his neck slowly begin to prickle, as if someone had just walked over his grave. He turns, drawing his blasters. Seeing nothing he hits the pad on the side of the hull raising the ramp and heads to the cockpit.

Jesca is sitting in the pilot's chair as Mactire sits down over in the co-pilots seat. His expression is troublesome though still cocky. Occasionally he glances round behind them half expecting to see someone else, or something else. 

  “Something wrong? Or you expecting the other boot to drop down and crush you like a bug?” She says doing the final checks before putting in a code.

  “We’ll see. I don’t know but I got the feeling that this mission may not be as easy as they make it appear.” Mactire said getting comfortable in his chair, slowly pulling out the datapad. 

 “This is Lambda shuttle awaiting departure clearance and course route? Baldy are you there? We want to get this party started.” Jesca says getting fidgety in the seat.

 “This is Commander Tyson. Don’t call me baldy. Seriously you two are the only ones crazy enough that we could get?  You’re cleared for launch, be safe. Dr. Al’Ciallmhar will brief you more after you’re out of the hangor. Also the flight path has already been installed into the navcomputer. SO FOLLOW IT!” Tyson shouts, before the faint click of the comm ends.

  Mactire presses the comm button lightly. “We’ll follow it as closely as we can, but in case we don’t what will happen?”

 “If you don’t all weapons will fire at you, making you wish you were on Alderran. Got it?” Tyson grumbles.

 “Right stay on course and we don’t become space dust. Sounds simple enough. You got it Jesca?” Mactire smirks.

  Jesca nods slowly guiding the ship out of the hangar following the course that they gave her. 

 Mactire keeps looking down at the holopad with his master’s name on it. Wondering if he should click it on and read it or not.  

A loud screech comes across the comms channel that makes them both slightly cringe. 
 “This is Dr. Al’Vere. Can you both hear me?” She says as if uncertain.

“Yeah we hear ya Doc. What’s going on? You lonely already?” Mactire asks.

“Humans… Anyway you’re both going to be landing at a private instillation outside one of the major cities on Tarthos. Your mission is to get in, shut down the operation and save any data that can be used.” Her voice becomes commanding in tone.

 “Alright. What type of installation are we going into? Factory, lab, a food processing plant?” Jesca asks still pushing the Lambda shuttle a little faster on the path.

“You’re going into a chemical plant. You should arrive there soon since you’ve adjusted your speed.” Dr. Al’Ciallmhar comments before a loud crackle on the comms comes through.

“This is about to get bumpy so hang on.” Jesca smirks as turbulence starts to shake the shuttle cutting through the atmosphere.

  Macitre hangs onto his seat laughing, at the chaos.

  The ride starts to smooth out as they approach their destination.

  “Think we should land on the outskirts or do you want to just ring the bell?” Mactire asks.

  Jesca smirks lightly before landing a few meters away from the door to the facility. 

  “Lets ring the bell, besides this is the best parking spot I could find.” She says getting up, heading to the ramp as she hits the release for it before leaving the cockpit.

  Macitre sighs and follows her shaking his head lightly.

As they walk outside the silence around the area becomes deafening to Mactire. He slowly reaches out with the Force to see the flow of life, but it seems almost void in this area except for a possible presence in the facility.  

 Jesca taps him lightly on the shoulder bringing him out of his sense. They walk to the door and lightly bang on the door.

  An electronic eye pops out and looks at them.

“State your name, and intention. Violators will be shot, and hunted just ask the Zeltron that was here earlier this week.” it says.

“I am Knight Mactire, of Naga Sadow. We are here for in inspection of the facility. I demand entry or I will break down the door.” Mactire says eyeing the eye severely.

“You are not authorized to enter this facility. Your clearance has been revoked you have two minutes to comply with leaving or hostilities well be taken with….”

Mactire draws a blaster, shooting the eye and blowing it up.

 Jesca looks at him shaking her head.

“What? It was a boring conversation anyway.” he says slowly putting his blaster back and drawing his lightsaber out.

“Men. You’re all alike. Acting before you think.” she says walking over to the pad on the side and hacks it allowing the doors to open.

Slowly puts his lightsaber away looking at her smirking. “Oh honey we are not all alike.” 

 Mactire walks in first slowly drawing both blasters out in case of trouble. 

 She shakes her head slowly drawing one of her blades and walks lightly behind him.

As they slowly enter the building they see a bunch of droids carrying boxes and moving some scientific lab equipment around carefully. As the droids scuttle about their business one stops and looks at them dropping the items that it is holding.

“AYIIIYIIIYIIIYIII!! Intruders! Intruders!” It says flailing its arms around like a child. 

 Jesca swings her blade quickly severing its head, shaking her head. “Well so much for just walking in this place.”

“Danger, danger, dange…..er” The droids head says before shutting off. 

The droids charge towards them in attack positions. A few of them have blasters and begin to fire in their direction. 

Mactire leaps behind some of the crates. Occasionally popping out of the side firing back at them. After about 14 shots he can hear metal clang on to the ground and the swish of a sword in the air.

He looks over his place of cover and see’s Jesca slicing away at the droids as if they were nothing more than reeds in a river. With each slash of her blade it connects and severs the droids. Making short work of them.

She stops, looking over her work and smirks. “I think my count is higher than yours right now.” She says slowly sheathing her blade.

A droid runs up behind her, then falls short as a blaster severs its head. The droid slowly collapses to the ground.

“Always gotta watch your back you know.” Mactire says mockingly.

She laughs. “Why should I? You do such a good job.” She lightly winks.

“Oh darling you have no idea. Come on let’s get this over with.” Mactire winks back then starts to walk further into the facility.

As they get further in, slowly clearing out the rooms the come to a long hallway. Upon stepping foot in the hallway the door slams shut behind them sealing, a holo projection of a stealth combat droid appears before them.

“My master has decided that you two have caused enough damage to this facility and shall exterminated after final test is completed.” The droid says before the holo projection disappears.

“What test and who’s your master you walking tin can!” Mactire shouts.

 Jesca, points to the other door as it slowly opens.

“RUN!” She yells.

They both start to run towards the opening. As they get closer a gas slowly seeps into the hallway. Mactire concentrates on the Force, calling all his strength and runs faster than ever, with the help of amplification. He slides through the door narrowly escaping the gas. 

He turns looking at the hallway, watching it fill with a blueish purple gas. An image slowly comes through the gas. Jesca is there drawing her sword watching him, snarling at him.

“Wooo. Calm down girl, no need to get snarky with me. Heel girl. Put the sharp pointy object away.” Mactire says watching her carefully.

She snarls and snaps at him, while swinging her blade through normal movements. She leaps in the air at him and swipes her blade trying to sever his head.

 Mactire, spins out of the way and leaps back. Lightly putting a hand around his neck. He slowly draws his lightsaber. “You leave me no choice I think.”.

 The hiss of the blade coming to life is loud in the room that they are in. The faint light blue glow from his saber envelops him slightly. He stares at Jesca, trying to read her movements and her thoughts.

She springs on him, without warning. As she’s in the air lightly spinning she draws her other blade and slams them both down at him.

Mactire blocks them, and pushes her back before spinning his saber in, slashes and thrusts.

She backs up, blocking then kicks at him, pulling her leg back quickly as he uses his right bracer to block the kick and slice into her leg. She lets out a howl of pain, limping back like a crazed animal.

“Jesca I don’t want to hurt you any more but if you don’t desist I will kill you.” Mactire says, holding his blade lightly in his hand.

She growls, charging at him one final time. Swinging both her swords wildly.

Mactire rotates his blade so that it is in a reverse grip. He runs towards her, and concentrates on the Force pushing her weapons up towards the air then slices her in half with his saber.

“Well fought you will be honored and remembered on your home world as a warrior who died with pride.” Mactire whispers before turning to finally eye the room.

There are computers and monitors stationed all over the area. There is one that appears to be downloading or uploading some information. Mactire runs over to it and starts trying to figure out how to copy the material.

“Damn it where is the comm button on this when you need it.” Mactire mutters as his datapad starts to beep.

Mactire pulls it out and sighs, looking at it as Dr. Al’Ciallmhar appears on the screen. “Hello can you hear me? Hello? Where is that Human? Are you there?” 

Mactire growls lightly. “I’m here Doc. Now isn’t the best time. It found what you are looking for but at a terrible cost. Jesca is dead, there was this gas. I don’t know what it did but it wasn’t good”. Mactire fill her in on the details as much as possible.  

“Alright, let’s get the information. Just leave the datapad there it will allow us to link up with their system. You try to get out of there and don’t breath in that gas. Understand?” She asks

Macitire nods and heads for what appears to be an emergency turbolift. He starts to run for it.

As he gets closer to it the combat droid from earlier steps out, spinning a electrostaff around. 

Mactire draws both his blasters, firing at the droid as quickly as possible. Only two of the shots hit the droid but it doesn’t seem to phase it at all.

The droid rushes towards Macite, striking him in the gut. Then spins, slamming the other end in his back. Then kicks him against a wall.

 Mactire feels the pain, and howls in agony. As he stands up blood slowly is coughed up, he spits it out onto the ground looking at the droid with a burning rage in his eyes. Slowly he grabs his saber and motions for the droid to come towards him.

The droid slowly runs towards him as Mactire concentrates on the Force, slamming his palm onto the ground, making the ground shake. The droid falls as Mactire, allows the Force to still flow in him allowing him to ghost and become invisible.

Mactire moves slowly and quietly around the droid, trying not to step on anything or trip on anything. The droid flips up, slamming its staff into the ground, shocking Mactire.

“AHHHHH!” Mactire howls in pain losing concentration allowing the cloak to fade.  He drops to his hands and knees panting. The effect of the staff is like force lightning striking him.

The droid walks over to him slowly. “You will be eliminated and my master will be pleased.” it says in a hollow mocking voice.

Mactire struggles to stand up. He doesn’t want to die on his knees like a coward. Just then, as his life flashes before his eyes the facility starts to shake, as if it is being attacked.

Alarms start to sound and the droid looks around as if in wonder what is going on. Mactire gets up grabs the droid and with all his might throws it to the ground a few feet away. He slowly walks over to the datapad as it beeps with an urgent message.

Mactire taps on the button. “Mactire here, who’s making all that racket out there I haven’t had time to get out.” he says panting lightly and trying to focus on healing his wounds.

“Sir this is the Reaper's Cell. We have deployed a fighter squadron to your location. You must evac right away. We are told to blow that area up and make it dust.” Someone says over the comms.

“Great, alright patch me through to the squad that's making the runs.” Mactire winces putting the datapad in his pocket.

“Will do sir.” the voice says.

Mactire heads back towards the turbolift as the droid gets up.

“Danny boy to the wolf. Danny boy to the wolf. What are your orders?” A new voice comes through the channel.

Mactire looks at the droid, as a wide grin comes across his face. “Give'em hell Danny boy.”

Mactire ignites his blade and charges towards the droid. Slashing at him relentlessly. Spinning, making his movements flow from one to the next, while throwing kicks and jab in reacting more on instinct than anything else.

“This is for operating in my system. On a planet that I like. And making me kill a friend.” Mactire growls, pushing the droid back against a wall.

 Mactire slices the droids head clean off, catching it in his free hand. He looks into it’s eyes snarling lightly. “I will find you and I will kill you for making my friend suffer, whom ever you are.”

The droids eyes slowly fade away as he drops it onto the ground and heads to the turbolift. The ride up is not smooth, with the bombings the lift shakes slightly. Mactire slowly takes this time to catch his breath. After a while he reaches the surface, the bright light temporarily blinds him.

 A figure walks over to him slowly. Its loose robes make it hard to distinguish who it is until he see’s the twin sabers, blasters and grenades. 

Sanguinius Entar stands before him. His brown hair and eyes looking at Mactire with a mix of pride and concern. The scruff on his face looks like he hasn’t shaved in weeks since the start and end of the Feud.

“Well you look worse for wear. Who beat you up this time? Was it Dr. Al’Ciallmhar or Tyson?” he says slyly as if knowing something.

Mactire grumbles lightly. “Neither. Was someone else and a droid. Wait how do you know I was here? This place is like the back side of a Rancor, hidden in plain sight.”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t read the datapad did you? Of course not, you always act without a plan sometimes. We knew about this facility and wanted it closed apparently they were doing unauthorized chemical combinations and some of the locals were being affected.” Sanguinius states calmly.

Macitre growls looking at him with a slight rage in his eyes. “A good person died today. I know I’ve killed in the past, I know that sometimes I’ll kill cause it gets the job done. But only as a last resort. If you had all this information how come I was sent in without all this information?” Mactire slowly tightens his grip on his lightsaber.

Sanguinius looks at him and motions for him to relax. “We didn’t know until we got into the computer system. At that point we knew what we had to do. Now let’s get out of here. While I try to figure out who is behind this. Then we will prosecute them to the full extent of the law.”

“No. I’ll gut them like the coward they are. Hiding behind droids and others. They will fall on my blade from the shadows.” Mactire says as he walks to the medical ship that slowly lands nearby.

 A holocam slowly moves around in the bushes catching the aftermath of the assault. 

On a terminal in another sector a dark figure is slowly looking at the holo projection from the holocams transmission. 

“Well this will be interesting won’t it Knight Mactire? Will you find me or will you fail? Only time and the Force know.” A wispy voice says as the figure steps into the holo projection illuminating his features.

He is wearing loose black robes, his eyes are brown and his tentacles are slowly moving about his face, as he gently rubs his chin.

“This will be fun.” he says and then laughs walking out of his office into the main hall, to find out what the rest of the Clan is up to. 

Corellian Security Forces Academy Coronet City, Corellia THREE YEARS AGO

Inyri Ginovef stood near the main hall steps to the Academy, in civilian clothes and a rucksack over her back. Behind her, she could hear her classmates being marched off to their first courses of the semester. But, they weren’t her classmates any longer, she had been drummed out of Corellian Security.

“Inyri.” She turned to her parents as they approached. Her father was an average sized man, though he had put on some weight since his military days, so he had some roundness in his torso but not much. His brown blonde hair was still kept short, not a buzz cut but it never got long enough to require anything more than a brief combing, and his green eyes always seemed to have a slight ring of black around them. He wore a simple grey t-shirt and khaki colored cargo pants, as well as combat style boots.

Her mother was more professionally dressed, a dark blue blouse and black slacks with dress shoes, her red hair was styled in a single ponytail and she had a light amount of makeup on, including eyeliner around her green eyes.

“I don’t understand, why can’t I stay?” Inyri asked.

“It’s not something you did, but the Academy board won’t yield on this,” Her father said with frustration evident in his voice.

“Come on, we’ll discuss this on the way home. It’s okay, you did nothing wrong, and we’ll get this figured out somehow,” Her mother said, ushering them towards the exit of the Academy. Inyri nodded and followed her parents.

They exited the Academy and headed for the parking area for landspeeders. Inyri and her parents climbed into a silver SorroSubb V-19 Gian, the civilian model of a speeder favored on some worlds. Her father took the controls while Inyri sat in the back with her mother, and the speeder was angled back for their home near Gold Beach.

“Inyri, this is not easy to get into. Your father and I, we saw a lot while we were in the Republic military, but this is a subject neither of us have any knowledge in,” Inyri’s mother explained.

“What do you mean?” Inyri asked.

“The Academy board has completed its investigation and has determined that you exhibit signs of being a Force Sensitive. That’s why you’ve been expelled,” Her mother replied.

“That...what? Force Sensitive?” Inyri stammered.

“This isn’t something we know anything about. Sure there were rumors about Luke Skywalker and what he could do, but we weren’t anywhere near him during the war or after the Imps were routed at Jakku.” Her mother let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“So, what do I do?” Inyri asked.

“We don’t know,” Her father said.

“I wanted to do something with my life, do some good like you guys did before those kriffers in the Republic turned their backs on you. I don’t want to go to them, and I’m not going to go looking for their poster child war hero either,” Inyri scowled, “You think he’d take me in with our name? I doubt it.”

“The Jedi could be a place for you, though,” Her mother offered.

“They’re a legend, there’s no way some force of peacekeepers with energy swords and special powers just suddenly got wiped out by Palpatine. One man against many, that’s just myth and legend, I’m sure their reputation was just blown out of proportion like the rest of the Clone Wars,” Inyri shook her head with a dark chuckle.

“She’s right. We’re pinning hopes on some long gone outfit. And if Skywalker really was trying to bring them back, he’s not going to take her, not with our reputation over her head. It’s not right, but it’s the fact of the matter,” Her father replied.

“Look. Let’s just get home, and sort this out. I need to think,” Inyri said, and looked out on the cityscape of Coronet City. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Whatever you want to do, we’ll be here for you, Inyri,” Her mother said.

Gold Beach, Corellia FOUR HOURS LATER

Inyri clambered into the small cave she had found as a child, high enough that the water didn’t get in except for the beginning of the lunar cycle, but still had a great view of the ocean and beach. It was hidden in a cove away from the main tourist areas, so Inyri could remain undisturbed, and even her parents didn’t know about it. Once inside the cave, she pulled her legs up into her chest and stared out into the night, the stars reflecting off of the water, the sound of the tide washing up and away drowning out the sounds of the tourists further down the beach.

It had been her third year at the Academy, she was on her way to graduating within the top fifteen percent of her class, and it practically ensured that she could have her choice of postings. She had been debating the merits of either following her father’s footsteps and going into Tactical Response or following her mother’s example and entering the world of Investigations, and now neither were a possibility. Now she had to re-evaluate her entire life.

Her expulsion made no sense. If she was Force Sensitive, why not let her stay, she could have been a valuable asset to Corellian Security. If anything, the board had just thrown away a unique opportunity to have someone that could have given the force an advantage that no other security force had. Inyri felt a bit egotistical to think she could have been some kind of secret weapon, but still, the logic was there.

Nothing made sense right now, except for why she had managed to replicate the effects of a flash grenade without the grenade during a practice session. But that alone was evidence that the board made a mistake in letting her go. That kind of ability would be invaluable in any situation, to disorient a suspect in order to take them down without any weapons, no one would be hurt and the suspect wouldn’t realize what had hit them until the cuffs were on. But no, she was something to be feared, cast aside, distrusted and isolated.

Inyri’s gaze fixed on the stars, wondering if maybe the answer was out there. Not with Skywalker or whatever was real of the Jedi, but somewhere that wouldn’t isolate and scorn her. Maybe somewhere out there, she could learn to use her talents and do some good for someone out there. Her answers weren’t going to be found on Corellia, that was becoming apparent. Both of her parents had chosen to leave and though they had been burned by the very people they had laid their lives down for, they had been better for it.

So, that was it for Inyri, she would have to leave Corellia and find her answers elsewhere, for better or for worse. She had some combat training, and could fly reasonably well. As long as she could turn to her parents for support to get off world, there was hope. And right now, that’s what she needed; hope.

Coronet City Spaceport, Corellia TWO WEEKS LATER

Inyri’s jaw practically dropped as she walked into the docking bay and saw a YT-2400 freighter sitting there. Her father put a hand on her shoulder, beaming.

“We couldn’t let you leave without having a ship worth doing your trip in,” Her father said, “I had a couple of friends from CEC touch it up, she’s faster and more agile than normal, couldn’t do much with the weapons but even the ones fitted to it are pretty powerful. They hit about as hard as an X-Wing’s quad lasers.”

Inyri turned to her parents and hugged them both tightly. Cost, she knew, was not a big deal, her mother had found work as an actress in one of Corellia’s more popular police holodramas after retiring from the Republic military, and her father was an advisor with Corellian Engineering Corporation’s design teams. They weren’t super wealthy, but Inyri knew that she had grown up without fear of want, though her parents had made sure that she had not grown up spoiled or privileged.

“Thank you both so much,” Inyri said, stepping back with tears welling in her eyes. Both of her parents both had tears in their eyes as well.

“We love you, and we hope you find what you’re looking for,” Her mother said.

“And if you don’t, you’ll always have a home here, never forget,” Her father added.

Malice could hardly hold back a smile as she heard the Dread Lord's command. Crandl Lorne was attempting to flee through the enemy lines, and someone had to catch him and take him down before he could succeed.

"We would like to get any information we can out of him, so it would be preferable to return him to us alive," Teylas continued after a brief pause. "Selika has recommended you for the job. Do not disappoint me."

"I promise, you will end the day without him in custody, Sir. Aiya and I will track him down and deliver him personally." She replied, inclining her head quickly in respect.

"I expect no less. Now, Go."

Malice turned, walking out of the room with her Nexu companion right at her heels. It had been some time since they'd received a personal assignment. They'd been stuck aiding in the colonization of Aliso, and those missions hadn't held any real action. Now, however, they would have a chance to prove themselves not just to Selika, but to the Dread Lord himself, who Malice had hardly spoken with. As she walked down the hallway, she thought over what she knew about the man she was now hunting. He'd been outed as a spy, and he was very skilled as far as blaster combat went. Had she been a lower rank, she would have perhaps requested backup, but she was confident in her master's training, and it wasn't like she was going alone. With Aiya by her side, Lorne would have no chance.

The second she stepped outside, the ambiance of battle filled her ears. Explosions and blaster fire seemed to be coming from all around them, with the occasional cry piercing through. The enemy forces were to the east, and Lorne had been seen running that direction not an hour ago. He would not have reached them just yet. Swiftly climbing on the Nexus back, Malice instructed Aiya where to go as they ran, dodging through the conflict as they went. A few enemy shots were aimed at them, but Malice deflected any that came anywhere near them, pulling out her lightsaber to send the bolts right back to their owners, usually hitting them square in the chest.

The cries of battle diminished in volume as they raced onward, as Aiya caught onto Lorne's scent almost as soon as Malice had detected his presence in the force. He was nearing the enemy base now, though he was still a good mile away. If they could gain the element of surprise, they would have a much easier time bringing him back alive to be questioned. Reaching the bottom of a hill, the two of them carefully peered out from behind it, pinpointing exactly where their target was. Surprisingly, as well as foolishly, he had stopped running and was now walking casually across the fields. Perhaps he thought himself safe now that he was away from the fighting. He'd seen no one follow him, and so he had no reason to run any further. Both predators locked onto their prey, Aiya's spines slowly opening up on her back in preparation.

Malice chirped a few times to the Nexu, who swished her tail in acknowledgment at the reminder to take the man alive instead of killing and eating him. Once Aiya was in position, Malice reached out, creating the illusion of a few of her fellow Plagueians. They stepped in front of Lorne, who immediately raised his blasters in defense, pointing them at different targets until he was slowly surrounded by them. However, instead of surrendering as she expected him to, he shot blindly at one of the illusions. The blast, of course, soared through the visage and towards the two of them, clipping Aiya on the ear. She hissed angrily, a red tick mark now visible on her left ear. Malice tried to keep her focus on the illusions, but either they faltered briefly enough for Lorne to realize what was going on, or he'd heard Aiya's upset hiss and pieced it together himself.

"Your illusions were good, but it seems luck would be on my side. I don't know what creature who have under your control but it sounds to me like I've wounded it," he called, making Malice grit her teeth. "Now, you can show yourselves and I may spare you, or I can come find you myself and end your life quickly."

Despite her wounded ear, Aiya seemed immediately ready to go again. Calming her now increased heart rate, Malice reached out with the force to begin healing her companions wound as best she could while she thought of what exactly she wanted to do. He hadn't found them yet, so they still had that on their side at least. He knew they were there, but not where exactly. If they could get behind him and leap to take him out, they might have a chance. As long as they were faster than his trigger finger, which wasn't incredibly likely. It wasn't their first choice, as both preferred to hunt from the shadows. If your target didn't know you were coming, they were easier to catch.

Finishing up with Aiya's ear, there was still going to be scar tissue but for now, it had healed enough for them to turn their attention back to Lorne. Using the force again, Malice quickly pinpointed him, realizing he was slowly getting closer to their hiding spot as he searched behind each small hillside. She climbed back onto Aiya, the two of them stalking quietly to the opposite side of the hill he was inspecting, staying low to the ground. he was just on the other side, and they had only one shot at this. One that would either succeed or put a blaster bolt right through them both.

After hearing another chirp from her, Aiya sprang forward, leaping up into the air, claws outstretched and aiming right for Lorne. He spun around, blasters immediately pointed at them, but Malice was ready for him and reached out with the force to use a trick Selika had taught her. Even if she didn't have time to go searching through the man's mind for his fears and cast those illusions, her ability to find the fear of others could be used simply to instil a general fear in them, one that would create a sense of paralysis in weaker minds and a pause in stronger ones. Lorne definitely had a strong mind, but that one hesitation in firing was all they needed. Aiya barrelled into the man, knocking his weapons out of his hands and pinning his arms to the ground, her large claws buried deep into his biceps.

Malice sighed, stepping off and onto the ground again, resting her hands on her hips as she looked down at her target.

"That almost ended in your favor," she started. "you managed to injure Aiya here, so you're lucky she doesn't eat your limbs off. A person can survive without arms and legs, but I'm afraid you'd bleed out by the time we got you back, and my job is to bring you back alive so the Dread lord and his wrath can have some fun with you. However, I don't want you struggling on the way back. Even without the use of your arms now, I don't want you screaming or crying or whining."

Walking forward, she placed her hands on the sides of his head, using her Illusion abilities to cut off all of his senses. As a non-force user, he was now blind in every aspect of the word, and it was only then that Malice had Aiya step up off of him. She had to shake each paw to get the man's arm muscles unstuck from her claws, but she gently picked him up by the hem of his shirt, carrying him almost like she would have her own cubs.

"Good job, Aiya. Let's get him back, shall we? Then everyone can see your nice new battle scar."

Tahiri Drakon Night-Thorn is a Sith Hunter, though she has only been with Clan Tarentum, and the Brotherhood, for a few years, it is like a second home. She was young when she had half of her family and clan ripped away from her by raiders on her home planet of Shili. All she had left was her mother and one of her twin brothers. Though a few years later, she lost her mother as well, to an Akul on a hunting trip. Her parents had been the leaders of the Drakon tribe, so thus it fell to her, the eldest, to lead the clan. One day she hopes to find the raiders and avenge their deaths. But she had another calling, the Brotherhood and Clan Tarentum. Her loyalty to her clan knows no bounds, so she will defend everyone she cares about no matter what and with everything she's got. Even though she is young, she has seen many battles and tries to be a good asset to her Clan and Battle Team the Nekros Syndicate.

Ragnos Cathedral Kar Alabrek

Inyri walked along the granite floors of the Great Promenade of Ragnos Cathedral, left to her own thoughts for the moment. News had spread of some pitched war ending, but when Inyri had gone to observe the services at Ragnos Memorial, the events that had unfolded had left the Corellian with a lot to think of. Evidently, the Clan had been involved in a conflict with another Clan on the world of Mygeeto, which Inyri only knew of vaguely from History classes, something about a final battle site during the Clone Wars.

For Inyri, it was a reminder that she had left everything she had known behind when she came to this place, and she was still something of an outsider. Unlike her peers, she did not wear robes or a uniform, but rather just a simple attire of brown boots, green fatigue-style pants, a white shirt and a black jacket over it. During the sermon, because that’s exactly what it felt like, there was a lot of mention of the “will of the Force”, something that meant nothing to Inyri. She didn’t believe in fate, and the “will of the Force” sounded a lot like fate, which in turn was just an excuse to her. Fate and the Force did not dictate anything, only someone’s actions did. But, surrounded by so many who seemed to not share her beliefs, Inyri kept her peace during the event at the Memorial and left for Ragnos Cathedral soon after.

There was much that the newly arrived Grey had to learn, she was willing to admit that much, and what little of the Force she had begun to learn was showing her a pathway in life that had not been previously seen to her. Combat was not unfamiliar to her at a theoretical level, she had some training from Corellian Security, and she had accepted that she was going to have to enter combat in order to take on injustice and defend those who could not defend themselves. But what Inyri was sure she would struggle with was the realization that these people, the Brotherhood, had some customs and ideas that she would continue to object to. And this recent conflict only proved to highlight this concern.

To Inyri, that it was acceptable to have what was a civil war, and that this was not the first nor the last, it was insanity. Sure, the war between the Empire and the Republic was over, but as history had always proven, there was always someone out there with the might and will to shake the galaxy to its core. And that these people were content with blowing each other up over what sounded to be some seriously petty gains, and that this was essentially sanctioned from top to bottom, Inyri was just not sure at all she would come to terms with that reality.
If this was the way of the Sith lingering to this day, it only served to highlight that she was right in her beliefs of their destiny to always fall, just as it was the Jedi who refused to lift a finger to actually effect change. What she was learning just had pages upon pages of history where the Sith consumed everything, themselves included, in their never ending pursuit of power, while the Jedi pursued power on their own terms, which usually meant they would never act unless it was their only option to avoid destruction.

Inyri’s father had once told her that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again and expect a different result. And if that was true, then she had just submitted herself to the asylum run by the inmates. Everyone was expected to take part in these constant civil wars, sanctioned no less, and this was expected to somehow make things better. If there was something bigger out there, waiting to make itself known and to drop the galaxy to its knees, then this was only going to serve to see the Brotherhood washed away in the tides. Purges, internal strife, violent rivalries, it was all making Inyri seriously question if she had made the right decision in being accepted into the fold.

Drawn from her thoughts, Inyri looked around at the people milling about, and she could see the looks of defeat on some faces, while others were either unreadable or didn’t care. But she had the distinct feeling that everyone here would be entirely content to see yet another conflict with another Clan break out again, perhaps the same one from this last conflict. That would be perfect, to get revenge, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was just a vicious cycle that would repeat. Because as Inyri saw it, logically, it would lead to more revenge.

Inyri let out a sigh of frustration to herself, and started for the exit out of the Cathedral. If change would not come from within, it would come from the outside, and it would be forced upon the Brotherhood. And Inyri just quietly hoped that it would not cost too many lives before change happened.

Surrounded by inky blackness, an eternal darkness that penetrates your very soul, and there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, with only your heart beat reminding you that your alive. Deep beneath the surface, trapped within a castle dark, with groans of metal and the eerie sounds of unknown creatures just waiting for you outside, not knowing if just around the corner is your salvation or your doom.

Brb. Have a .gif for you guys.

Oberst is known for two things: military tactics and painful, horrible experiments. He looks to you, because he's all done with tactics.