Fiction Gallery

Deserted

    Delak awoke head down in the mud. He had been on a scouting mission with Shadow Guard when his ship had been shot down. He didn’t know how he had become ejected so far from the ship but it was in a fiery hulk behind him. He had his lightsaber but no rations. The trees and plants in this area were dying and brown. Something had happened to the vegetation in this area of the planet and that was part of what Shadow Guard had been dispatched for. It was to ascertain the cause of this death. Delak sat up and looked around as he heard howling creatures in the distance. He wasn’t sure how far away they were but he knew that he needed to keep his head about him because the sun was going down quickly in the sky. The oranges and purples of the setting sun were a bit relaxing until he realized how alone he was out here. He turned his attention to his surroundings and started to focus on the Force.

    As Delak sat in meditation he could sense creatures moving upon him staying just out of eye sight but not out of sight of the Force. They seemed like mutated monsters. To him they moved as Tusk Cats moved but he couldn’t be sure unless he had the misfortune to come in contact with them. He sensed something in the background. It seemed like a cavern in the mountains somewhere. The cave seemed corrupted, like it was flowing with the Dark Side of the Force. Everything dying in the area proved that it could be some sort of Force corruption happening to the environment. Delak stood up and took off in the direction of the cave. He ignited his lightsaber for light as the sun continued to drop in the sky. The stars began to ignite like candles being lit in the night.
The cavern was very dark except for the faint green glow in the back of the cave. As Delak entered the cave he felt as if his life essence was being drained. He continued to enhance himself with the Force and moved further into the cavern. As he approached the back of the cave the entire room lit up with green glow from a crystal. The crystal seemed to be causing all of the issues in the area and the Force was very strong with it. As he approached his skin began to burn and he could smell burnt flesh. He looked down to see his skin singeing off. He decided against taking the crystal for himself and he instead flung his lightsaber at the crystal hitting and destroying it. The Force disappeared from the area and normalcy returned almost immediately. Delak decided to head back to his crash site to wait for Shadow Guards return. He would report his findings to the Emperor as soon as he returned to Judecca after he had also debriefed Lexiconus and Blade about the situation.

[A 1000 WORD FICTION TO BE SENT IN 1000 EMAILS TO MORD – AT THE BEHEST OF QUA BRAECEN. POSTED HERE FOR THE Cis. ADDED ONE LINE TO THE TOP TO QUALIFY FOR THIS COMP!]

ONE NIGHT, OOD GATHERED THE BATTLETEAM TOGETHER IN THE NIGHTHAWK CARGO HOLD TO TELL THEM A STORY…

This is a story that Braecen asked me to write and deliver in this fashion…

It happened a long time ago. alternatively, it could have occurred last week.

The great and wise Sith Morda… Darth Veritas was lounging about his flagship, an old stardestroyer he had acquired. Rumours had reached him a few days ago of a group of three Piggie… Gammorean Jedi Masters trying to re-establish a Jedi Temple. Morda… Darth Veritas had decided to deal with these lighties himself, he didn’t need allies for this for he was a Sith and a mighty one at that!

Arriving in orbit of the planet Ssarg’Deird’Rof’Mynonys, he ordered his vessel to establish an geosynchronous orbit over the location of the Jedi Stronghold. Turning to a lieutenant, he ordered a probe sent down to scan the structure and get him images of it.

Laughing to himself, Morda… Darth Veritas looked at the images projected back to him. A planet without good building materials! Why else build a Jedi Temple out of straw? With a snigger of amusement he turned to his command chair – mounted atop a suspended platform to allow the short Sith to appear to tower over his minions.

With a huff and a puff he expelled the breath from his lungs and blew the hous… Temple down by pressing on the firing button. Looking with glee, he quickly grew enraged as he noticed the Jedi flee into hyperspace with an antique ship. “We came out of hyperspace too close to the system! You have failed me for the last time Admira…” Looking around in bewilderment, Morda… Darth Veritas turned to the captain standing next to him.

Oddly, the man seemed to be wincing. “My Lord, you killed the Admiral last week for not ensuring a steady supply of Archie-comics for your bathroom. You have yet to promote someone to the post.”

“Consider yourself promoted then Admiral. And now, die for failing my orders!” As the Captai… Admiral died, an ensign moved closer to drag the corpse away. “My lord, we now need a Captain and an Admiral. The first officer died a few weeks ago when your soup was too cold and needs to be replaced also.”

A WEEK LATER

Approaching the second planet on his list, Morda… Darth Veritas was annoyed. He’d been forced to kill the entire janitorial staff
days ago for forgetting to put up the “caution – slippery floor” sign. It had been unavoidable really, everyone had seen his underwear, the boxershorts decorated with little Pravus faces. The stench from the corpses was starting to get annoying. Note to self, never kill the dudes that drag away the corpses!

Ordering a probe sent down, the Sith looked upon Doow’Tub’Gnihton and its vast forests. He already knew what would be found. The only material on this planet that the Gammorean would think to use would be wood. A wooden jedi temple? Really?

The droid sent back images of a rather poorly built Temple structure and… was that the ship from Ssarg’Deird’Rof’Mynonys? Two piggies… Jedi Masters at once! Morda… Darth Veritas huffed and puffed – as he ran up the steep stairs to his chair to open fire on the structure…

A MONTH LATER

The Jedi had escaped again! He’d massacred 155 crewmen from the maintenance department for not checking the guns before the attack. The turbolasers had jammed for precious minutes, allowing the two to escape. Luckily their trajectory had been tracked and they were now approaching tey’llird’eht’wonk’tnod’uoy’yllaeR in hot pursuit. They had become a bit slower as well. The stardestroyer stank of decomposing bodies. The freshers had stopped working two weeks ago, and without technicians most rules relating to hygiene had been suspended. Some sort of plague had killed the support staff just last week. The last doctor had figured out what had happened before dying, apparantly some of the corpses had been putrifying and dripping into the watersupply. Morda… Darth Veritas had wisely ordered the surviving crewmembers, the 40 people that worked on the bridge to stop drinking water and just drink alcohol. In a gesture that seemed to endear him to the crew, he had allowed them to use his personal stock. He had decided to drink the blood of his surviving crew, which they didn’t seem to like. Fickle non force using soldiers!

Ah, there the Jedi Temple was. It had been carved out of a mountain? If the great and wonderful Pravus hadn’t ordered… With a huff and a puff, he reached the button to open fire.

Some sort of planetary shield protected the final Jedi Temple! “Increase firepower!” he yelled before rushing down the stairs to follow his orders. It was hard work operating a Stardestroyer by himself, but by the Force, he would succeed and prove himself to the Dark Lord! He’d been gifted this ship to prove himself… Okay, he had stolen it from the person who was assigned the mission but still! What could an Elder do that he couldn’t? Racing back to his throne to gloat – as befitted a good Sith. The Grand Master would surely reward him for this.

Any starship requires constant maintenance to keep in working order. A month without maintenance is sometimes enough to even condemn a ship to the scrapheap. With a huff and a puff, the mighty stardestroyer blew up. The ensign who had informed the Sith of the lack of a First officer and who had been hiding in a landing craft managed to launch his pod just before the blast. It crashed into the planetary shield emitter, disabling it. The fall had knocked the young man unconscious, thus he could not follow protocol and deactivate his shields. As the stardestroyer detonated, a cloud of fuel entered the atmosphere. This pollutant reached the shuttle and ignited the atmosphere, killing all Jedi on the planet.

This is the tale of how Ensign Grevial received the highest decoration the Brotherhood could award him as well as how he became General Grevial, the Jedi Bane.

Oh, how great thou art, mighty Excidium How dark and yet slick you are like obsidium. Your secretive ways and darkest intention Causes fearful hearts thy name to mention

Striking from the shadows, you do with great skill No one quite expects the event of the next kill With Quaestor and Aedile leading with great might Many a enemy will not live to see another night.

Great is thy glory, and long may our legacy last The future generations will be in awe of thy great past As we stand as brethren united by spilt blood The brotherhood we shall with deadly fear flood.

Alara peered down below at her new-found enemy. The fool was just leaving Shadow’s cabin outside of Judecca.

“I’m just going to get firewood darling! Be back soon,” Brandon Tarsus kissed his new wife on the cheek.

“Don’t be off too long,” Shadow giggled. She watched him walk a few paces, and then closed the door. With a smug smile, Brandon turned away from the cabin and walked down the forest path.

“How did I ever get so lucky…” Brandon chuckled to himself. This sparked fury within Alara. She growled under her breath. Quickly yet quietly, the Knight positioned herself among the tree branches and hopped from one branch to another.

Stupid fool. You won’t even know what hit you, Alara smirked to herself. That’s the last time you try to cross me and my family. You will be removed permanently. You took my sister from me...you…

She instinctively reached for her saber, but abruptly removed her hand from it. No. She couldn’t kill him with her saber. It would attract far too much attention. People would see the yellow light, and his wounds would indicate that a saber-user was the killer. It would cause chaos in the Brotherhood. She couldn’t risk that. Alara patted the side of her thigh. Good. She remembered the dagger. It was all planned out. The girl even remembered to wear camouflaging colors to hide from plain sight. Her victim stepped further down the path and closer to the large pile of firewood already cut for the harsher climate season. He was so close to his doom. Alara tugged the hood over her eyes, and jumped to a closer branch. She was almost directly behind him now, just slightly veering to his left. Brandon bent down, humming a playful tune, and picked up a few logs. Alara took a deep breath, and prepared to thrust herself towards the enemy. As soon as she began to push on the branch, a sound of barking came from the path behind them. With a scowl, Alara scaled up the tree in attempts to be hidden. Loki, the anooka belonging to Shadow, greeted the Professional with a lick to the elbow. Holding the logs in his strong, muscular arms, Brandon nuzzled the pet and laughed.

“Ah, my old friend. You will always have my back. You can’t even be away from me for a moment, can you?” Brandon smiled. Loki barked again, as if agreeing to his new master’s statement.

“Neither can I, my love,” Shadow stepped down the path to her husband. She gave him a perfectly cut smile, and kissed him on the cheek, “Do you need help?”

“Make my new wife carry our firewood? Never!” Brandon replied, blowing locks from his brow.

Shadow giggled, and stepped behind him, “Good thing I’m stubborn.” She reached for a few logs and then positioned herself beside her husband.

“Oh what will I do with you…” Brandon laughed.

“Just stay by my side. That’s all I ask,” Shadow smiled.

“I vowed that I will. And I’ll hold to it. Let’s get inside now, my darling. I would love to drink some wine and cuddle next to you by the fire.”

“Aye. Sounds good,” Shadow nudged her husband, and hugged his arm with her neck. The pair walked towards light of their cabin while Loki danced about them.

Alara growled with eyes that flickered angrily in the moonlight. Damn. Those two are so closely knit. I’ll have to find another way.

As the two went back into the cabin, Alara scaled down the tree and ran swiftly through the woods. She was going to kill him. After all he put her through, she knew it was her destiny. It would just have to be on another day.

Enjoy your wife while you can, Brandon Tarsus. She won’t have you much longer.

Manually added by Augur Terran Koul

Manually added by Augur Terran Koul

Manually added by Augur Terran Koul

Manually added by Augur Terran Koul

Manually added by Augur Terran Koul

The quiet calm of the cell swam around Corvus, the middle aged man enjoy the break from the torture and interrogation.  His body and mind ached, wracked with pain from Scion’s handiwork.  He was surrounded by an energy field, the plasma humming as it shimmered down to the floor.  That is, until, it all of a sudden shut off.  The quiet hum left abruptly, the sucking sound of absorbed energy seeming to burp into the air to take its place.  Then, silence.  No alarms rang, no emergency lights kicked on, nothing to indicate power failure of any kind.  The Corellian smelled a trap, but he felt like a fool just sitting there.  
He got low and skulked towards the wall, his efforts working towards masking any sound he could make.  What was going on?  The Smuggler knew he had no friends inside the Castle, knew that once he gave the Tarenti what they wanted he was as good as dead, so what was going on? The Human pushed those thoughts away, focusing more on his survival and less on the circumstances of it.  He moved towards the door and pressed the button to open it, revealing an empty hallway devoid of any guards.  He took a right and followed the hallway, lights flickering every so often.  Perhaps it was a power failure after all, thought Corvus to himself.  It wouldn’t be long, mere moments from leaving his cell, that the Corellian came to the end of the hallway and upon another door.  His brow furrowed as he debated with himself, sweat beading on his forehead.  His hand trembled as it rose to hit the button, the door activating and revealing more corridors devoid of any life. 
“Phew.” sighed Corvus. 
“Phew, indeed.” said a voice from behind him, “Thought Scion was gonna hog all the fun.” 
The Corellian didn’t look to see what the voice came from, instead he booked it down the hallway.  The voice from behind turned to boisterous laughter as the Smuggler ran further and further away from it, turning a corner and activating another door.  
Inside what appeared to be a boiler room, Corvus waited in darkness.  His heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through his veins and ridding his body of its aches and pains.  But as most good things do, the sensation dissipated as light bathed the room as the doors opened once more. 

“Fear is a strange thing.” said the voice, “To those attuned to it, fear can lead you to anything.” The voice flicked the lights on in the room, and the visage that embraced Corvus’s eyes was horrid. A chalk white figure with no ears, nose, or lips stood before him. The abomination had a beard, braided and soaked with saliva, that seemed to only briefly distract the Smuggler from the rest of his strange body. Brands and tattoos covered his skin, something Corvus got a good look at when the strange figure grabbed him by the throat.
“My name is Samael, I’ll be your executioner tonight.” he said, something akin to smile covering his face. Corvus swung his knee as hard as he could, impacting the Umbaran’s testicles with great force. The Sith released his grip and let go of Corvus, who immediately ran out of the room and further down the hall. Samael laughed as the pain ebbed and flowed through him, giving him one more reason to want to kill Corvus. The Smuggler ran for minutes before he found an elevator, which he promptly began to hit the up button. His finger smashed against it repeatedly, gaining in ferocity when he saw Samael round the corner. The doors opened, and the Human ran inside.
“Close. Close. Close!” said Corvus as he hit the close door buttons.
Slowly but surely, the doors finally began to close and the elevator ascended Castle Tarentum. Corvus slumped against the wall as he thought of a way out, some possible escape from the hell he found himself in. The elevator chirped and the doors opened, Samael waiting on the other side with a wolfish smile.
“Can lead you to anything.” said Samael, thrusting a punch forward and connecting with the forehead of Corvus. His brain jostled back and hit his skull, knocking the Human unconscious. The Umbaran looked down at the Smuggler and frowned, dragging him over to one of the submersibles that the Tarenti used to leave the Castle. He took the Smuggler and dipped him in the water, focusing on the darkness inside himself and sending it pulsating through the Human. Electrical arcs of power skittered out of the Human as the Umbaran threw him on the ground.
“Just kill me if you’re gonna do it.” said Corvus. “Can’t. See, if I kill you, it’s this whole big thing. The higher ups would KILL me if I killed you. Believe it or not, they still think you’re useful. But me? Not so much.” said Samael, kneeling over the Human and pressing one of his daggers into his throat, “I mean, I COULD kill you. Accidents happen, I could say you gave me this…” As he finished his sentence, Samael cut a large gash into his face, the blade of his dagger scratching the crystal eye. As he did it, the Smuggler took his opportunity and swung as hard as he could at the Umbaran. He connected with the side of his head, tossing the man off of him and able to get up. The Sith dropped the dagger, its blade delivering a much deeper gash than intended, blood spewing from the wound. The Umbaran began to laugh once again as he scrambled to find his blade. The Corellian, however, had found it first. He tackled the Umbaran to the ground and forced the blade on his throat. The Sith smiled and encouraged him, seemingly begged him, but the Human wouldn’t do it. Instead, the Human began punching the Umbaran over and over, landing four strikes before the scarred Sith knocked him off. Corvus landed on his back, twisting awkwardly in the air and arms flailing to and fro. When he landed, his hand hit some control panel and activated two buttons. Doors opened up, seeming to appear from nowhere, and droids marched out from their hiding places. They carried large blaster rifles, the sight of which caused more adrenaline to swarm Corvus. “Hoo hoo hoo!” cooed Samael, “You invited guests for lil ole me?” The droids swiveled on their feet and pointed at Corvus, who was rapidly trying to slice into the terminal and reprogram the droids. Samael giggled as he saw the Smuggler panic, the droids raising their guns and taking aim. Corvus didn’t look up at them, just continued his work with the determination of a man who might soon be dead.
“Any last words?” asked Samael as he awaited the firing squad to react. “Yeah...good bye!” said Corvus. One of the submersible’s hatch doors opened, the Smuggler rolling and sprinting to get to it. The Umbaran commanded the droids to fire, but they refused to respond. The Sith cackled as he watched the Smuggler work towards escaping, the Human playing right into the Tarenti’s trap. When the Corellian got in the sub, he closed the hatch and left as fast as he could. Water sprayed into the air as he sank into the depths, the sound of Samael’s final cackle repeating in his ears.
Relief washed over the Smuggler, freedom and his survival open for him to enjoy. Corvus couldn’t help, however, that something was wrong. Was that too easy?

Back at Castle Tarentum, the Tarenti assembled in the Throne Room. Samael was standing before them, explaining what had happened. His voice was monotone, calm, and it was apparent he took no pleasure in explaining what happened. “So, he didn’t suspect anything?” asked the holographic image of Farrin. “Not to my knowledge. His mind was too busy focusing on escaping, he didn’t seem to realize I was not actually trying to hurt him. He’ll lead us to what we seek. I still think I should have been able to hurt him...at least take an ear.” explained Samael. “There will be a time for that, Samael.” said Sith Bloodfyre, “For now, retire to your quarters and wait further instructions.”

Quo sat in the diner watching as the clientèle went about their business ordering their meals and drinks. There was a constant buzz about the place as the conversations of the patrons merged into a background mush of noise. Their humdrum existence was not in the slightest bit interesting to the Sith as he observed the movements of the serving droids, and of the owner who was preparing the food behind the serving hatch.

There were three WA-7s in the cantina, all identical to each other, even the vocal units installed were identical. He had tried to discern any difference between them in the hours that he had observed them, and at a cursory glance none would have been apparent to the casual watcher, however he had noticed several idiosyncrasies in their behaviours, probably internal glitches in their core programming that had crept into the systems over the years of use that differentiated the three into distinctly individual units to the trained eye. The owner of the establishment obviously had not taken the time and expense to eradicate these vagueries, and he himself seemed to be able to distinguish between the three seemingly identical units.

“Table twenty four, Ne-ne,” he called from the galley kitchen to one of the waitress units, “and there are two spiced caffs to go for the two gentlemen at the counter”

The WA-7 addressed as ‘Ne-ne’ wheeled its way over to the serving hatch and took the orders across to their respective customers, the ‘face’ of the unit displaying the happy smile that was designed to put sentient life forms at ease. Her voice was bright and sing-song in its nature conveying a simple pleasure into the conversation that it engaged in with the clientèle. The programmers had decided that a high pitched, female register voice would make interaction more pleasurable to living beings, and this one had a slight giggle added to its speech patterns, either intentionally or through a programming fault which made its individuality more recognisable to the Sith taking it all in.

The unit behind the counter serving the patrons seated on the tall bar seats was different. Sure, it had the same sing-song female voice, although without the giggliness, but this one had a strange habit of wiping its hand over its cranial unit in a mimicry of the habit of some of the locals that frequented the eatery. This again was a distinguisher that Quo had picked up on early in his observations.

The third had a tic, the vocal processor unit had a habit of looping for a fraction of a second, resetting the word that it was attempting to say, giving it the appearance of having a slight stammer. At first the Zabrak had found it irritating, although now he just saw it as an error that should be fixed. It did, he would admit to himself, make it easy to spot the droid from its counterparts.

Atra and Evant hadn’t been able to discern from their interrogations which particular droid the information had been deposited in, he would have to discover that for himself. He tried to put himself in the position of a Jedi who was cornered and tried to deduce by logic which of the droids was the most likely target to search, however, even with his keen intellect he couldn’t decide which one it would be. Every time that he though he had a definitive answer his brain threw up a new scenario which countermanded his decision.

It would take longer to determine which one of the droids contained the information. He was gathering information every time the droids passed his spot, he watched them for signs of tampering. Fresh scratches, screw heads with no paint on them, panel alignment. He was sure that the owner did all his own servicing when required, there was a toolbox on the floor of the kitchen with droid maintenance tools sat within the open drawers, he had spied it as he entered. Even with the do it yourself approach to repair there should be a build up of food remnants and airborne particulants over the surface of the fixings through working near to hot food, and grime built up to form a protective film over the bodies of the droids. Any fresh tampering would be relatively easy to spot he thought, how wrong he had been. For over an hour he had tried to gain an incite to guide him, but the droids weren’t still long enough for him to thoroughly scrutinise them.

Sweeping around he sent a piece of cutlery off the edge of the table in front of him, making it look like an accident. The ‘giggly’ droid wheeled over to retrieve it giving the Sith a chance to sweep his eyes more thoroughly over the body panels of it as it extended an arm to pick up the errant utensil. Searching intently he could not establish any portion of it that was not covered in the thin film of grease and grime, there certainly were no marks of disturbance in the recent past at any rate. One down, two to go.

Standing from his table he made his way across the floor of the diner towards the lavatories, that would bring him closer to the ‘stammerer’. He followed it as it carried across another order from the kitchen although he tried not to look like he was following it. His gaze roved across the body of the droid, every surface coming under fierce scrutiny. Every fastening and panel was ingrained on his mind, although he couldn’t find any sign of interference. That left only the droid tending the counter to check.

Making his way back from the cubicles of the lavatories he made his way over to one of the unoccupied stools at the counter. At least with this one he didn’t have to travel around the place to try and get a good look at it, this one was restrained by the confines of the counter area. Ordering a spiced caff he sat watching as the droid perambulated the confines of the counter space. At first he didn’t notice it, but after a few minutes of scrutiny he noticed it. It was small, but from the gleam from the scratch it was recent, the newly scuffed surface flashing silver as the roof mounted lighting caught it as the droid moved.

Down near the midriff of the droids body, partially hidden away by the arm the panel had recently been removed. The layer of grease and grime showing signs of disturbance and several of the fixings had new working marks on their surface. At least now he had his target. Finishing his beverage he rose and made his way from the diner. He would communicate his findings to the Voice and return just before closing under the cover of his Force induced cloak of invisibility.

Several hours later he entered the diner again, following through the door left open by one of the final customers of the day. Taking up his place in the corner of the seating area he knew he could wait for the diner to close in this position without being disturbed, he only had to wait another 5 minutes until the final clients were ushered from the premises leaving him alone with just the droids and the owner for company. He bided his time watching as the receipts for the day were calculated and tallied, the profits being stored into the safe, the cafeteria made ready for the following day, before the owner made his way to the doorway. A cursory glance around as he brought out the remote for the droids, keying the button to deactivate them for the night and he was away, locking the door behind him.

Quo approached the dormant droid behind the counter under cover of darkness, his senses guiding him through the murkiness. Light was entering through the windows, however the polarisation prevented much of it entering, making the diner appear to be complete darkness from the outside. There was no reason for him to keep up his invisibility in the darkness, but still moved warily. He had no idea what sort of security the establishment had to watch over it, so was not going to take any chances. If there was surveillance all it would discern would be a dark shadow. The cowl of his hood would prevent them seeing his face.

His leather clad hands ran over the body of the droid quickly locating the panel that had been removed. Whoever had replaced it had left it sitting proud of the surrounding panels, making the task of locating it in the dark a lot easier than if he himself had done it. Taking out an extraction tool from his belt he felt with his hand for the recesses of the locating pins before loosening them, letting them fall into the open palm of his other hand. Within seconds he had removed the panel and looked into the black opening behind it. In this light he could not make anything out so reached in and searched with his hand, slowly and methodically he searched the recess, working around the perimeter of the space. There were a myriad of wires and servos that activated the droids movements, but he felt nothing initially. Turning his hand over in the space he moved it upwards to the top of the recess. There he found what he was seeking, attached quickly to the inner framework of the droid.

Removing the item he replaced the panel ensuring that the fit was flush this time before running his hand across the surface, smearing the grease and grime in a thin layer across the surface. He would look at it later. Moving from behind the counter he made his way through the kitchen towards the rear exit. No point in attracting attention by going through the front. After all there may be security personnel patrolling at this time at night. A glance at the door showed that it was a simple lever lock, no obstacle to the Sith. Manipulating the workings through subtle machinations of the Force he opened the lock. Stepping into the night he reversed the process to lock it again behind him. The cafeteria owner hadn’t done anything wrong, there was no need in his mind to punish him by making his place vulnerable to robbery.

Quo moved in the shadows, checking that he wasn’t being followed as he went. Within twenty minutes he was back in his accommodations, sitting before his portable computer. The item that was deposited within the droid turned out to be a data car. Quo had connected it to his computer and downloaded the files to memory. There was no information that at some point wouldn’t prove valuable to him. There were several encrypted files on the stick that he was currently attempting to decrypt using the laptop software. Looking up from the screen showing it’s progress he decided that it was opportune to inform Arta and Evant of his discovery, ommiting the copying of the data of course.

“Quo to Evant, Antwort, I repeat, Antwort.”

He had used the agreed password to tell them that he had found what they had been seeking. He waited for a response, whether to return to base or to continue the mission with an amended objective. There were surely discussions going on in the office of the Voice to determine the best course of action on which to proceed. It was some thirty five minutes later when the reply was forthcoming.

“Anwesig.”

A simple one word code that had the Sith packing his meagre possessions required for the mission together. It was a matter of moments before Quo was making his way back across the city, towards the Inquisitorious Citadel and his debrief. A sense of pride flowed through him, he had done the job quickly and quietly, no fuss or mess to clear up, and he himself was unscathed. Things could not have gone better he thought to himself, nobody knew he had been there, apart from to drink spiced caff, and nobody was any the wiser to his real intentions, just as any good Inquisitorius agent should do.

Sweeping into Evants office with no announcement he deposited the card on the Voice’s desk, a curt nod passed as a greeting. Quo waited patiently as the Seer closed his hand over the prize. The Grand Master would be pleased. Placing the card into a biometrically locked drawer he would present his findings to Pravuus later after he had read it himself. The solid wooden doors to his office were slammed shut keeping the rank and file partitioned away from this secret world, of which many were simply oblivious, just the way they should be. Evant felt the touch of the Dark Side caress his mind, velvet darkness stroking gently on the core of his being. Today was a good day.

Together we win Divided defeat is on Scholae forever

Fighting to the end Lay down arms forward Peace has come

Imperium and Excidium are as one Horizon is war

Go go go forward Scholae Palatinae go Time has come

Dear Diary:

I can't tell anyone this, but need to tell someone, I need to do something to help me figure out what happened. But if I told anyone...well they would likely either have me committed to the medical bay, or have me under some sort of surveillance. So, it appears as though you will have to keep my secret. The past week was suppose to be about a week of relaxation, though I don't really know the meaning of the word, or so I have been told, it definitely was anything but that!

At the starting of the week I received a very interesting little package. There was no name as to who sent it, but it felt dark, like the force itself had sent it. Which is unheard of, at least as far as I know or have heard. But it is so far the only explanation for it. That, or someone had me in mind for a hidden plan or maybe experiment. Makes me smirk to think that perhaps it could have been my old master Macron. After all, he wasn't too thrilled about handing over the keys to his lab after a bet we had...Not sure I will find out who sent it...what was it? Well diary, it was a holo pad with coordinates and a small black crystal. It peaked my interest. Months ago I had been planning a trip to search some old catacombs, including one known for hidden treasures powerful in the force, and rare crystals holding many properties. But I had gotten side tracked with calls from the Clan....come to think of it, that had been planned with Maleous...maybe he sent it...

Diary, when I move you I can catch my reflection at times, and I can see that my eyes are almost black, at least when I think about how I may have gotten the package and blaming those I have trusted, and do trust, with my life. I don't understand...you see...no I can't tell you, not yet any way...sounds strange, but I don't even feel like I can trust you diary.....

Hmm, let me continue with what happened. Since we were not getting the call to help I decided to go. Commandeering a shuttle, I headed for the coordinates, not telling anyone, which was probably a bad move. Of course, I likely would have still gone even if someone had tried to stop me, if they somehow knew what the co-ordinates were...then again, the two I would have told would have been Macron and Maleous...both of whom I suspect may have...there it is again diary, the soulless black swirls in my eyes.

The flight was pretty uneventful and took about a day. When I landed the planet was dry, dusty. Wind would swirl up the sand and dirt making it hard to breathe and see. Thankfully I had been able to land near by the co-ordinates. Covering my mouth and nose with a cloth, I closed my eyes, using the force to guide me to the opening of the tunnel into the catacombs. It was more difficult then I thought though. It was as though the wind itself was created by something strong in the dark side, pulling at my robes and feet. Sometimes trying to help me to the entrance, others trying to pull me away, away into a trap. I had no doubt there were sand pits that the instant I stepped on the grains they would fall away and suck me into them....hmm something seems to be trying to make me forget, or change my memories...my eyes weren't closed the entire time...no, I remember now. I felt the wind turn into hands and pull at my heels, almost puling me off balance, drawing me to the side of my goal. I opened my eyes at the jerking motion, thinking maybe I had somehow missed the approach of an enemy in the whipping force driven wind. But there was no one there. The grains stung my eyes, but also whipped against my cheeks. Looking back at the tunnel I started running then, feeling the hands as though they were still trying to grab at my ankles, pulling me back. But it also made me more determined. As soon as I ran into the tunnels entrance, it was as though the wind stopped outside. I took a couple steps in before turning around to look at the opening, and I didn't see any sand blowing at all dairy...it was an eery calm. As though the wind itself knew the best way to get me into the tunnel was to try and keep me away from it...as I let the cloth fall from my face I shook the thought from my mind. It that was a possibility, then it mean that something had wanted me there, something or someone was waiting for me.

My boots made soft indentations in the floor of what I now realized was a well cloaked cave. It felt like I was walking on skin. The ground saturated just right, that if I made any sudden movements or vibrations I would break through the first layer and sink deeper into it. I would have to keep moving. Igniting a glow stick to help me see in the cave didn't do as much as I had hoped. The light almost being sucked into the darkness, as though it was a living breathing entity. I am not sure how far or how deep I went into the cave diary but...well...oh I am so not sure I can tell you what happened...what if you are linked to the QUAs data pads? What if Macron or Maleous are listening in or connected?...What if someone finds you?...

Enter encryption code Dear diary:

How nieve this one is...Oh her body will serve me well...yes, a vessel that will get me where I need to go. I will just have to bide my time until I grow strong again...but until then, I can have some fun with her. At least it will keep me entertained while I'm in here...

End encryption code

I remember coming around this corner and feeling shadows around me. The force shivered with danger. My reflux was to ignite my sabre. The air was think with the black shadows, even with my sabre glowing and humming in dark energy, it was hard to swing it and fight what I'm starting to think wasn't really there in the first place. I planted my feet and swung my sabre in an arch ahead of me, only to feel a cold shiver run up my spine. Spinning on the toe of my foot I brought my sabre up in an upper cut, but it hit nothing, and dairy...I swear the purple light from it was gone, as though the darkness swallowed it whole...Amazed, stunned, and in awe, I looked into the blackness. I could feel the hilt in my hand, I could feel the vibrations of the humming blade, but I could no longer see it. I know I shouldn't have been so distracted, but it happened. And just like the sandy wind outside the caves entrance, two hands seemed to wrap around mine on the hilt and pull me forward. As I was thrown forward by the force of the pull, I swore I would see someone on the other end of my blade, as though they used it to end their life....but there was nothing there...but diary...oh i you could only hear me sigh or know that I've stopped writing at least 5 times now...I'm not sure if it is because I just don't want you to know, or if it is because I don't want to remember...

When I saw nothing on the end of my blade, when I couldn't even see the light from it, my mouth dropped open. Instantly I felt my hands drop to my sides, my back arch, my chest open and exposed to any blade that may come from the darkness, as something...well, the best way to describe it, diary, is swallowing a black cloud. I could feel it moving down my throat, almost choking me as it held onto my body. The tip of my blade sizzling against the skin like ground. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Gasping for air, my body suddenly fell to the ground, I was choking but diary....I remember looking at my blade and once again seeing the purple light coming from it. The cave no longer dark. Blinking and feeling as though something cold and dark was moving through my veins I went to pick up my sabre but then....then everything went dark...the next thing I know I'm waking up in my shuttle, my hand clutching the crystal that was sent to me. I'm not sure if it was all a very long dream, like perhaps the crystal was laced with a sedative and by touching it I was sent into a long sleep....I wouldn't put it past Macron to have some fun with his alchemy skills...Wait what am I saying? Macron is like family to me...but then again...

Diary I've been sitting here in my shuttle ever since. However, I have to go back soon...I'm not sure what I'm going to do...I'm certain something is wrong...I feel as though I'm not the only one in my body.....

Dear Diary:

Made it back to my quarters, but the strangest thing has happened. I'm sure I have written in you over this past week, but I can not get into the files. They are either encoded so well, or someone deleted them. But I don't understand why someone would delete them, or even more so, why I would encode them so that even I could not access them...

*Enter Encryption Code

Dear Diary:

She must not remember. If she did she might tip off those around her. I have searched her memories. The Alchemist she has known for so long and even trained her, and the Mystic she has recently met, could be a threat to my return...

End Encryption Code

“The problem is simple, Sadowans. We know the Dominion are here, but they are such a mixed group of species we can’t distinguish them from our own citizens. If this parasite persists for much longer, we could be facing the collapse of our entire system. We have to flush them out, whatever way possible,” Locke’s voice came through clearly over the hologram channel. There was no mistaking the severity of the situation.

“What do you propose we do? We can’t very well arrest at random, and if we make it known there is an issue we could face mass panic,” Bentre responded.

“To be honest, this threat is too great to remain conservative. I’m open to whatever suggestions you have. I expect your best ideas by the end of the rotation. Locke, out,” the Sadowan Consul concluded as the hologram blinked out of existence.

Aul sat back in his chair, in front of him a desk littered with notes and articles barely visible in the darkened barracks quarters. His datapad was a continuous scroll of information, projecting a starscape of characters onto the human’s eyes. Most of Naga Sadow’s Knights were out scouring the streets of Seng Karash looking for anything suspicious, but Aul, newly field-elevated due to his performance on the initial attack on the Dominion, had locked himself in his room to think. This was a puzzle, and like most puzzles Aul had encountered in the past this would couldn’t be forced into a solution.

The Dominion was here - in their midst. Their numbers weren’t so great that they could be easily identified as an amassing force, and the diversity of their appearances helped them meld in seamlessly with the already varied populace of Aeotheran.

“These Dominion scum… how can we possibly root them out?” the scientist mumbled to himself. He placed both elbows on his desk and sleepily laid his head in his hands with his eyes closed. “We can’t sacrifice the health and safety of civilians… despite what the Dark Jedi say.”

A few moments later Aul fell asleep, his head slipping through the palms of his hands and landing heavily on the desk with a thud. Celsus snapped awake and shook the tiredness from himself. Trying to focus his vision again, his eyes rested upon an article laying on the edge of his desk about the detection and ablation of cancer in Twi’lek patients.

“Cancer! Of course!” Aul exclaimed as he quickly opened a holo-connection to Locke.

“Aul, good, what’ve you got for me?” the Consul asked expectantly.

“The Dominion is a cancer, sir,” the Knight began.

“Uh, yes. Sure, it’s a cancer, a parasite, whatever you want to call it. We know this already,” Locke responded, sounding unimpressed.

“No, what I mean to say is we can approach the Dominion presence on Aeotheran as if we were approaching the detection of a cancer. You see, under certain circumstances you can identify the origin of a cancer by looking for signatures of accumulated substances in those cells that are not found in the surrounding tissue. Simply put, the Dominion will have a signature in their bodies from their extended time on Cha’kota that the Aeotheran civilian populace won’t have. We can ‘tag’ the signature, just like we do with cancer so we can surgically remove it,” Aul explained.

“Ok, I think I’m following. But how do we tag it?” the Sadowan leader asked.

“Uh… just one moment,” Aul responded and typed a string of queries furiously onto his datapad. He tapped his fingers anxiously on his desk as the results of his search compiled. As a satisfying beep came from the datapad, Aul let out a small chuckle. “Sir, blood test results from some of our captured Dominion subjects indicate a high elevation of a number of isotopes, but most importantly there is a surprising amount of solubilized, conjugated silver in their blood. Most importantly, every species of prisoner we have shows the same level. Precipitated silver colors skin a distinct blue shade. We can precipitate the silver in their blood with simple salt solutions, and it’s extremely quick. Salt the water, sir. The color change is almost always permanent, so they’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Salt? That’s it? What if they don’t drink the water?” Consul Locke asked skeptically.

“Showers, misters, random ‘hose breaks’ whatever the case. Find a way to get them drenched in salt water or to consume some of the salt water. Salty food even. Just get their salt levels up and the balance will shift, precipitating out the silver into their dermis and turning them blue,” explained the scientist.

“I’ll send the word,” finished the Consul, “let’s hope this works.”

Falling in love with Lilith. Our illicit passion led to me killing my first master when we were both a Padawan for him. From then on it has been a constant battle for me stay Gray and not fall wholly in to the Dark..

Dathomir where magic brews Mercs and crews engage the night Endless swamps of land to fight Where the dark arts shine so bright

Dathomir where nightsisters rule the land Dark witches practice by hand Where deadly stories are told Magic games are played at night

Nightbrothers obey thy commands Where warriors gain insight Ruthless players roam the night Tacticians day and night

Tarentum landed upon the ground The secrets of magic at night they burn Where many have come to die Witches gather and their secrets swirl

Ryloth, descending Orbit JumpMaster 5000, Heavens Bound

“We should be landing shortly Janos. I’d buckle up, Ryloth is not a friendly planet once you get into it’s atmosphere.” Captain Esric Sorin spoke through the ship’s intercom unit. A late model product of the “Han Solo” craze from a couple decades back, Sorin had teamed up with a Quarren named Rel, stole a freighter and made a go of things. The craft itself was in better shape than the Captain which spoke well for the trade he was doing. As it happened this pilot owed a favor to a scientist he met once years ago. That scientist was now a Sith and sat uncomfortably in a new set of Brotherhood recon armor over top of his robes. He kept his lightsaber hidden for the time being, as it was easier to tell Sorin that he was a bounty hunter instead of a Sith. As it was, transport to and possibly heavy extraction from Ryloth was stretching the limits of the favor owed him. Contacts like Sorin and his co-pilot were the kind that intimidation only worked on once, then you’d never see them again. Janos was glad he had read the man right and played to his sense of adventure rather than threats. Turbulence and a sudden spike in temperature signaled their entry into the atmosphere. They were currently on the dark side so surface temperatures only reached stifling instead of sweltering. Not that it would matter. Janos put on his helmet and paused a moment while the internal systems came online. He checked the seals of his body glove, the fit of his armor and finally he drew his blaster.
Grace Ryloth ** Three miles from target site*

Janos walked down the gangway and tapped into the shipboard comm. “I’ll be back by dawn. If I’m not, burn the camp from orbit and go.” He clicked off the comm and sprinted off towards his target. His HUD showed him a waypoint tagged from orbit. His information came from Tasha, but who knew how accurate it was. Ryloth’s mountainous terrain and treacherous lava flows may make refining bacta better and the twi’leks happy, but he was already sweating . That any living things could live here, much less become sentient was a marvel. Perhaps their hearty genetic stock could be used for something later? Interesting thought.

His force-enhanced speed brought him close to the target site within a few minutes. He lay on the rocky ground about a half a mile out, concealed by a rocky outcropping. He zoomed the optics of his helmet in on the rudimentary camp. Just a few temporary huts and some space cleared out for a beat up old freighter to land. The ship itself may have been a YT model but the hull had been ripped to shreds and put back together at least twice by the look of it. Put together badly if the smoke coming out of the cockpit and engines was any clue. That solved the mystery of why these treasure hunters were still on planet after they supposedly acquired their treasure.

He scanned a little further. Speaking of the treasure hunters, a pair came into view. One human male, a twi’lek male and a trandoshan came into view. Janos could feel the wicked smile form as he suddenly began to look forward to what he was about to do. Memories of his early life as a slave medic overwhelmed him for a moment, as did the hate for that species. The human suddenly pulled his blaster and looked right at Janos, alerting his fellows who began to scramble.

Blast! Janos had made sure to scan for traps from the ship. He did a quick check of his surroundings just to be sure. Nothing! Then how?!

Realization hit him just as a strange presence seemed to try to pry into his mind. The human was a force user. Janos cursed out loud. Why was nothing ever easy?! The fool was untrained but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. Quickly scanning the camp again three treasure hunters had become five and all of them were crouched behind cover. They must be in worse shape than the Sith realized because not one of them bothered to get the ships weapons online. Stealth had gone out the window so the next and only option was brute force. He had half a mile to cover and he was alone. Luckily if he moved from outcropping to outcropping he could advance under cover.

The Sith jumped up and sprinted forward to the next bit of cover, a jut of rock a few yards ahead. As he slid into the relative safety of the rock he could feel and hear the thud of blaster bolts burning furrows into the dirt. From this distance their accuracy did not bode well for him. Sprinting to the next jut of rock the scenario was repeated. On the next dash however, his hopes of safety were dashed as a small metal orb landed a few feet away from him. The explosion blew the Sith off his feet and through the air several yards where he landed in a heap.

A cheer went up from the assembled vagabonds. Two immediately abandoned their cover and ran towards the body. The other three hesitated until the others, both human males reached the intruder. They carefully approached while the two younger men nudged the body with their toes to see if it lived. Smoking and tattered, the Sith was still in pretty good shape for some one that had recently been just a yard or so from a thermal detonator. The trandoshan was the third to arrive, young and eager for trophies.

“The Ssscorekeeper is generoussss with this bounty hunter. The gear alone will fetch a pretty price.” The scaled hunter hissed with glee.

“Be careful guys. I felt something when I spotted him. This isn’t your normal bounty hunter.” The force sensitive human was a few yards off, his weapon still leveled. His expression was one of unease and very much like a man with something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite get.

“Relax. Sserik blew him up. The TD was only a meter away from him! There’s no way he survived that!” One of the younger human males, poor fool.

“I don’t think we should-“ the Twi’lek was about 2 meters from the Sith when his speech was cut off. A blur of motion and a snap hiss cleanly bifurcated the two humans and a heartbeat later, decapitated the twi’lek. The force sensitive and the trandoshan opened fire mostly striking the bodies of their comrades as they fell. The Sith battered bolts aside with his saber. The movement was odd, as if the wielder wasn’t used to fighting with his left hand, even still it was enough to cause the two remaining rogues to cut and run for the relative safety of their ship. Janos paused for a moment and let them go, allowing his barrier to deflect any of the panicked shots that might come too close. He cradled his ruined right arm. If not for his force enhanced reflexes and his snap up Barrier he would be as dead as they thought. As much as laying on the ground in a smoldering heap had rankled his pride, he’d needed the time to stop the bleeding and make sure he wasn’t as broken as he felt. His armor had saved him from most of the shrapnel but one bit had nearly taken his right arm off just above the elbow. A multitude of curses flowed through his mind.

The remaining two treasure hunters had holed up at the top of the gangway of the derelict freighter. A prudent move were he just a bounty hunter. But Janos Breaker was Sith, and now he was mad. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength Through strength I gain power Through power I gain Victory Through Victory my chains are broken The Force shall set me Free. Janos stalked forward with the Sith Code in firmly in his mind. The Dark Side, normally a sweet whisper, once again roared in his ears. He removed the thermal detonator from his belt and telekinetically launched it into the open gangway. The explosion rocked the freighter up on it’s rear landing struts causing them to buckle. As it came down the forward struts were crushed up into the hull. Janos put his saber away, knowing that there was no one and nothing left to oppose him. Cradling his ruined arm he approached the decimated gangway knowing what he would find. Next to the bits of scaled flesh, most of the human man lay twisted amongst the wreckage. “You knew what I am. Why?”

“I knew as soon as we found that damn thing one of your kind would show up sooner or later.” The dying man did his best to smile but it came out as more of a grimace. “But I expected you to try and buy it. I didn’t think you’d risk hurting it but just coming in and killing us all.” “Fool.” Janos turned towards the collection of huts and began his search. Trying to think through the pain, he guessed he should look in the best looking hut. It didn’t take long. Sitting in a padded crate was a deep red pyramid. Janos looked at it in awe. Keying in his helmet comm he signaled Sorin to come to his location to pick him up. It would be a shame to give this up but he had sworn to do so. He may be Sith but he believed in honor.

Ryloth Versea Estate With his tattered black robes, scuffed armor and stump of a right arm in a bacta cast, Janos was very much at odds with the splendor around him. The gardens of this estate made him question which planet he was on. The one he had just nearly been killed on was a volcanic world covered in mostly rock and pain. This….this was a paradise! A pair of ornate doors opened up to admit the battered Sith. Inside was a well appointed room with a Twi’lek woman seated at the far end. Various Clan force users were assembled around her. Janos approached at a swift walk, holocron under his good arm. As he neared Tasha he slowed and knelt. Placing the holocron at her feet he looked her in the eye. “As ordered. A treasure of Ryloth delivered to you as my offering and application for the position of Black Guard. Forgive my appearance, as I have recently been very literally blown up. I’ll fix the arm soon enough. Should I be chosen, it will not hamper my abilities.” He stood an stepped back.
Tasha looked down at the holocron and considered a moment. “Your offer is accepted. We will be in touch. See to your injuries.” “Of course, Matriarch.” Janos stood and retreated to his waiting ship.