Fiction Gallery

A turning point in my life, was when I was only twelve. My adoptive father taught me many things, one of the most important was trusting no one. My father and I stopped at the city of Kandarin, on planet Calabrex to hide from some assassins following us. During our few months there, I fell in love with a girl named Kallina. We spent every waking moment we had together, that we could. Unfortunately, I should have followed my father’s teachings, as I learned on our last night in Calabrex. Even now I can still feel her last breather against my neck as I slid the knife between her ribs. I only did this out of anger because of her betrayal and lies. You see, she was the apprentice to one of the assassins hunting us. It caused me to turn down the path of the dark side before I was able to find the balance of myself in the Grey Jedi Order. I do slightly regret killing her but it also caused a great change with a great lesson. Never trust anyone.

Korroth sat on the cold metal floor, his hands dumped to the sides, his head slouching forward. His eyes were wide open, though the cell was completely dark. The other captives had fallen silent by now; no more sobbing, no more screaming, no more banging against the walls. The stench was thick and overpowering, hardly any air circulated in the cramped room. Occasionally one of them shifted around to relieve the ache in their limbs, but most had become near-catatonic in their state of dehydration and starvation.

The Pau’an’s brow furrowed. His fingers closed into fists. His mind was not here, it was in his home city, on the day of victory, the day of peace, when he and his confederates had liberated the Ikan people from war. On the day when the Ikan people had recompensed their liberators with death.

The young revolutionaries had thought that no price was too high to stop the bloodshed, to bring down the warmongering City Council. Even their own intimate patriotism was slaughtered for the sacrifice. They had surrendered their city to the enemy, but to avert its destruction, to end its absurd suffering. They had thought that the Ikan people would rejoice and work together to rebuild.

But not so. The people would not share in the sacrifice. They took the peace, sure, but not the bloodied hands. They killed the young betrayers and, though Korroth was still breathing, they killed him too.

Sisters in night might in sundered life to dust We make life in ash

Alabrek Castle Kar Alabrek Tarthos

"And that was when we lost track of the property." He stopped, watching the man for some sort of reaction, some sort of response. Thikka felt the seconds drag by, the dark predator glare of the man unmoving, as near as he could tell. Each moment grew more and more awkward, the liaison starting to feel the itch of idleness in his fingertips, but he willed it away.

He cursed himself inside his head, swearing that he would murder the man who called off and forced him to meet with a Lord, of all things. That was not the way he had wanted to spend his morning, panicking about details and how to approach bad news.

The Lion finally nodded once, then turned to walk away. Thikka let out a breath, watching the movement keenly. He had been worried that the Dark Lord would have reacted as poorly as he had heard from the others in the bureau, the Warhost attaches bringing back horror stories about the foxtrot uniforms in the field.

Ashen let the door slide closed behind him, his mind dissecting the situation. The 'property' was an antique from Ryloth, although from the images on the Liaison's datapad, not made by a Twi'Lek. He let his legs carry him to his ship, the rhthym of his boots in the corridor echoing off the walls. It would have to have some serious resonance in the Force for some mere treasure seekers to abscond with it. He flipped open the comm center in his arm's datapad, tapping otu a message to Blackwind to prepare for liftoff.

Meditation Chamber Fallen Spear Hyperspace

He sat in the middle of the room, a raised dias covered in deep royal fabric. His legs crossed, his arms resting on his knees as his eyes slid closed. He felt along the edges of consciousness, let his heart and mind still themselves, letting his senses open themselves up to the Force.

It was a tidal wave. It always was. The loud thoughts of countless sentients caressed his mind, the flow and ebb of life and death, soil and steel all making their presence known. He savored the stimuli, his mind sharpening as he focused his mind, as he narrowed his net.

It was there, in the industrial sector of Nar Shaddaa. He felt along its edges, tracing the connections between the artifact and the universe that birthed it. Sense slipped away, and vanished back into the ether, like a thread pulled back into the tapestry.

Muz stood up, cracking his neck as he looked up at the blue miasma of hyperspace through the viewscreen. He would have to have it in his possession if he wanted to know for sure. If the lost artifact was the brother to the box he had acquired on Kalsunor. If it was one of the pieces he had been hunting for.

Muz smiled.

Consul's Office The Temple of Sorrow Sepros

"Let me get this straight." Locke looked at the Quaestor incredulously. "You think that Muz went to go retrieve the Ryloth Relic?"

Tasha'Vel blinked at the Consul, as confused as he was. "That is what the Warhost Liaison reported to me."

"Why does he even care?" Locke sneered, pacing the area between his desk and the view. "Did we get any sort of analysis on what the relic did?"

"Not yet, but I can't imagine it would be so powerful as to attract his attention. If it was that strong, we all would have felt it when we picked it up." She watched the man pace. "And it's not like he's actually trying to make a name for himself and join the Black Guard..."

Locke paused for a moment, turning to look at her. "No, but that would be a hell of a benefit."

Tasha cocked her head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

Locke laughed. "Imagine the stories, Tasha. Suppose someone or something tried to attack you, and it got stopped by your Black Guard."

She looked at him like he had just ate a box of spice. "That's kinda their job, right?"

"Well, yes... but if it somehow were to slip that your Black Guard was a former Grand Master..."

"That seems awfully presumptive." She interrupted him. "Surely, he has more important things to do with his time. The One Si..."

"Exactly." Locke smiled, turning back to the view. "Muz is almost always off on his own business, business that I am sure most of us would rather not meddle. But even if only once that there was confirmation of Muz being a Black Guard, imagine what that would do to the morale of the clan..." Locke's eyes narrowed. "Of the other clans."

Tasha felt a smile creep up the corners of her mouth. "No one would dare strike at us."

Fithram Warehouse Offices Industrial Sector Nar Shaddaa

The Iktochi Triplets, Vari, Deri, and Turi smiled as they watched the businessman count out dataries, sliding them, stack by stack into the case. They had no idea why the pale human cared about the old artifacts, but they didn't care so long as he kept paying them. This one was particularly easy, lifting the relic from the ruin of the old skyhook while it still burned. The Sith took their sweet time coming back to the wreckage a,d the others would never doubt that they were among their number. It was one of the easier acquisitions they had seen in a few months, and the credits would go a long way to settling some scores.

The businessman, Vari never got his name, finished stacking the tiny chits, looking up at them as he slid the case across the table, then picking up his purchase with eager hands.

It was a fist sized cube, intricate etchings lacing the outer shell. They seemed to be indicative of more, hiding some sort of puzzle mechanism, some secret way to open the device and see something within. It was unlike anything that any of them had seen, but the Force sang within it. Whomever had created the relic had been force sensitive, to be sure. He turned it in his hands, letting his eyes slide up to the triplets.

Darkness moved toward them from behind, a full head taller than any of them, the dark visor of a battle helmet crowned with a beasts’ head and hair glinting in the dimmed office light. Eyes went wide as the businessman put a million paranoid theories into his mind at once.

Deri reacted first to the man's changing expression, spinning around to see the dark armor. There was only barely enough time for his eyes to register that someone was there before he found himself smashing into the ceiling, then the floor, the slick sound of bones breaking inside tearing flesh spurring his brothers into action.

Turi reached back, his hand drawing out a blaster as color swept his vision, the razor hum of energized adegans cleaving the durasteel from his hand, then the front of his face from his head. He staggered backwards, the shock of the stroke taking him to his knees before his body realized it was already past time to die.

Vari bellowed, throwing himself at the man, only to find a kick sweeping him from the air before he could even touch the man. The movement was almost too quick to see, a quick step, then the grinding of boot into the floor, compressing his throat and making his vision go grey. He gasped as he struggled for breath, the Dark Lord looking up at the businessman in the seconds before the violet violence of his weapon ended Vari's suffering.

"Mine." The word echoed from within and without, gravelly and heavy. The businessman could not put the relic on the desk quickly enough, stepping back away from it as though it were poisonous. Muz looked at the artifact, feeling along the Force, around the ties that linked it to the rest of the universe.

The businessman tried to make himself a ssmall as possible, flattening himself against the far wall, trying to edge his way toward the exit while the Keibatsu stared at the relic. Only fifteen feet from the door.

Muz twisted the line back. It was old, but not what he had expected. The power within the device was residual, locked up within the spinning gears, the potential minor. It might have been created as a test, a craftsman's game, or a tool to hone the skills of a holocron maker. Muz felt the tinge of disappointment as he let his senses drape back into the present. The fool was here to purchase this, and the stacks of Republic dataries in the case on the table told him that this wasn't the first in his collection. The Ryloth Relic was not what he was looking for, but...

Nine feet to the door, the businessman held his breath, trying to make himself as silent as possible. He felt the warmth before he saw it. The tip of the purple blade snarled in the darkness at him, holding him to his spot. He traced the line of the burning power up toward the man who held it.

"More."

Quaestor's Offices Alabrek Citadel Tarthos

"I didn't keep you waiting, I hope?" She came into the room, bowing carefully, her eyes never leaving the Grand Master. She had been through that training, keeping her manners as best she could, despite the cultural differences that the Kyataran had illustrated. Locke had him brought over to train any summit member who would be in close contact with the Lord, concerned that a faux pas would leave him to replace summit members too often.

Ashen didn't respond, only opening his hand and letting the Force take the relic from his hand to hers. She reached up, taking the relic with both hands, lowering her head in a signal of gratitude.

Muz watched her hold the relic for a moment, thought and question screaming behind his blackened eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Keibatsu." She looked up at him. “And those who took it?”

Muz only smiled before turning to leave.

Communications, W/GSP Broken Blade Exact Location: Unknown 34 ABY; 1640 Hours, Local Time

The Onderonian paced back and forth, muttering under his breath after listening to a report. Behind him, one of the Arconae watched in silent amusement as Edraven barked out an order for the DIA Operative to be brought up on a holo conference.

As soon as the young male’s profile appeared, Celevon wasted no time in getting straight to the point. “I’m just guessing here... With the disappearance of our commander, did you assume that we were unable to carry out our duties? Because of your botched assassination attempt, then incompetent actions in covering your tracks, we have a massive clusterfuck on our hands.”

“Sir-”

The Assassin growled, glaring fiercely at the younger Agent. “You. Were. Seen. And, beyond that, the Ol’val Security Force has an eyewitness statement of your incompetence!”

“Sir, I don’t think-”

“That much is obvious,” Celevon sneered, interrupting the male once again. The Onderonian ignored the mingled embarrassment and frustration that appeared. “Were your duties within my purview, you would be returned to basic training if not shunted to janitorial staff for this blunder. We’ll sort this clusterfuck you’ve created.”

“Sir-”

The Assassin gave the Communications Officer a gesture to end the call, stalking out of the area the moment the screen went blank.

“With all due respect, General, why did you not step in when Colonel Edraven was berating one of your operatives?” the Communications Officer asked curiously.

“My own sentiments were not far off from his,” Strategos shrugged, slipping a cigarette between his lips. “Patch me through to the Director - Encryption protocol DN-38-416.”

It was a strange feeling being back on Aeotheran after all the time he had spent away from home to his Clan. A great many things had changed, there were security droids and guards everywhere. Neighbour spied upon neighbour with every rumour and claim made by anyone bearing a grudge against another being investigated thoroughly by the forces of Naga Sadows internal security department.

Even within the Houses of the Clan there were accusation and counter accusation, everybody seeing the Dominion lurking within every corner. The seeds of mistrust were germinating and taking hold, their flourishing buds sowing introversion and suspicion throughout the whole organisation, even the elders and leaders were not immune to its grip and control. The populace were so focussed on watching what their Clan mates were doing that it would be easy for any foreign agency to infiltrate the system and fuel the suspicions with their own schemes and disrupt the status quo.

Quo himself was not immune to the psychological effects of the rumours and stories doing the rounds in general society. He found himself checking and re-checking his weapons more regularly, training harder and for longer, preparing himself from the shadow of threat the the Dominion had deposited on the Sadowans. He had changed his routines and routes to and from his usual destinations, constantly on guard from being followed by enemy insurgents, employing all the techniques at his disposal to shake any follower that he had perceived, be they either real or imagined, or indeed the coincidental Sadowan whos route echoed his own.

He read constant reports on the search for, and in one case, the discovery of, a Dominion Cell that had infiltrated the planet. He checked and double checked all the information that filtered down through the Inquisitorious about the operatives, their insertion techniques, their mode of integration into the local populace, their plans, their intelligence gathering schemes, their planning and implementation of it, and the stroke of luck that had exposed them to the Sadowan Intelligence Service. He read of their capture and interrogation, and the secrets that they had been forced to reveal to their tormentors, which in turn revealed that they were not the only cell that was active on the Clans home world.

The Zabrak had internally collated all the information available to him, and made a précis of it, including it within the encrypted files that were contained within his data pad. The information that was filtering down to him was so abundant and frequent that he had to have an aide mémoire of some description, and his pad with its biometric security systems was the most secure and reliable source should he require his memoires aiding at any point. The file was substantial even now, several terabytes of information already amassed within the confines of the electronic repository.

It was through all this information that he had seen it, bringing him here to the heart of the city to sit in this food outlet with a mug of hot spice-caff waiting patiently for his suspicions to be either proven or dispelled. Patience wasn’t one of his strong suits, but he knew that to gain results that would satisfy his own mind, and by extension the minds of his superiors within his own House, he had to stay in position and see how this game would play out. Through his own intellect and logical processes he had come to his conclusions, and that they were not necessarily the accepted truth that the Clan propaganda merchants within the civil services were putting forward through the accepted literature being propagated was of little concern to the Sith.

Through the door of the cantina strode a human male. At first glance he appeared quite ordinary, wearing the garb of an everyday citizen he approached the raised counter. Quo’s eyes followed him from under the cowl of his hood, taking in every nuance and idiosyncratic movement of the man. The leather outfit was rough and looked like it had seen many adventures over its lifetime. From the boots on his feet to the haphazard look of the head gear that he wore this man was never going to be a forerunner in the race for fashionability. Hanging at the belt was an old blaster, its surface scuffed and grazed by years of usage, although it still appeared to be functional. On the opposite side hung a riot baton that looked a lot newer than the rest of his apparel even though it had been re-painted to reflect a camouflage pattern rather than the more usual white colouration that matched the First Orders troopers.

Ordering a drink the stranger went to a corner booth, away from the exposed entrance. Sitting in the semi circular seating he attempted to avoid attracting attention, even if the movement was subconscious it was still telling to the eyes of the observer seated towards the front of the establishment. Moving to the right of the booth he gave himself as much cover as possible without openly looking like that was what he was doing.

Quo sipped at his spice-caff content to see how this was going to unfold, his muscles primed to explode at a moments notice should the need arise. To everybody else he looked perfectly relaxed, enjoying his beverage, letting the day flow about him as he spent a day off in the sunshine of the city. Even with his breather prosthesis he could enjoy the taste of his drink as he sucked it through the feeder tube that extended from the lower bout of the mechanism. His data pad was laid on the table in front of him, the intelligence gathered given to him in bites of information as he required them, currently it carried a facsimile of the face of the stranger over to his right.

Reading as though it was the latest news, or some celebrity scandal that he was reading he looked like any other news feed reading civil servant in any other cantina across the Galaxy, semi bored, reading to kill an hour or so as they ate or drank. In reality he was engrossed in the data that was streaming across the page, informing him of all he needed to know about the subject. Bounty hunter, Human, thirty, several pages of completed contracts, and a synopsis of all the systems that he had visited. It all seemed solid information, from reliable sources, however, there was one thing missing from it. The fact that he was a First Order Intelligence Officer on a mission to infiltrate the Dominion.

The Dominion was a great unknown largely, and their hierarchy and driving forces were mysteries that the Brotherhood had attempted to ascertain. They had used their own operatives to try and infiltrate the Dominions forces and send back the information they had gleaned. Of over three hundred agents they had only heard back from a handful, and the intelligence raised more questions than answers. Many of the spies that Brotherhood had attempted to plant had either disappeared completely or turned up many months later, dead. Quo had little doubt that the others fates had duplicated their compatriots but they had never been found. The handful of agents that had returned gave conflicting reports making the young Sith wonder as to whether they were either brainwashed before they were abandoned to their own fate, or they were double agents sent to spread misinformation. Nevertheless some of the information had merit, including the piece that he was acting on now.

Another half hour passed uneventfully, several customers arriving and leaving the establishment without so much as a glance at the booth at the back. Quo had the feeling that the contact that he was expecting was not going to happen, that in fact his information had been erroneous, that after all the stranger was nothing more than an ordinary bounty hunter awaiting another contract. Even so the Zabrak sat and waited, feigning disinterest as he drank his way down another spice-caff.

Entering the cafeteria another woman, this one clad in the jump suit of a cadet pilot of the Sadowan Militia, ordered an sinth-ale before sitting at a small table near to the booth. As she sat she slightly obscured the leather clad male from Quos eye line, making his observations slightly more awkward. Placing a shoulder pack on the floor next to her she took out a plas-sheet containing the latest snippets of news from across the Galaxy. Reading she sipped at her ale apparently engrossed in the reports from the far flung distance of space, her eyes scanning quickly across the sheet as she read. Quo assessed her as he watched both her and the stranger behind her. She was dressed as a militia, but the finger nails of her hand were neatly trimmed and lacquered, the hands suggesting that she was unused to combat or heavy work, the lack of cuts and callouses evident of a life of prestige, not of manual labour. The hair also was mussed, but the cut was fine and well done, not done by the barbers of the Militia College. The make up was clean and simple, hiding any perceived imperfections, and although it was well applied it was far too much to be allowed under the regulations of the Militia.

As if by accident a passing waitress clipped the backpack sitting alongside the woman, spinning it round on its bottom panel, the front flap now facing away from Quos position. The woman’s spin on the chair sending it scuttering across the tiled floor as her heel smacked into the back panel. She made it look like it was an accident, even flailing her hands towards where the bag had sat in an effort to convince anybody that she had attempt to retrieve it before it had spun out of her grasp. Quo had to admit that it had been well choreographed well, and had obviously been rehearsed. Even he hadn’t seen the waitress as an accessory until she had skilfully flicked the bag without obviously looking like she had meant to do it. The bag itself had pirouetted towards the booth, landing underneath the table.

The stranger reached down with both hands, hefting the back pack up to the seat, and even Quo struggled to see the slight of hand as he dipped into the front pocket and retrieved the item that had been placed inside for him to collect. The sweep of his left hand as he offered the ‘lost’ item to its owner, received with a smile and a glance that was a little too quickly broken off. Finishing her drink she thanked him and rose to leave picking up the plas sheet as she made her way towards the door. She didn’t notice the dart which attached itself to her jump suit which Quo had blown across the diner from his drinking tube. If it was spotted it would appear to be some form of small insect zipping across the space, soon lost against the background of the city. The micro probe gripped itself into the fabric of her clothes securing itself against being dislodged. It would only transmit for just over an hour, but it should be enough for the security forces to home in on the woman once she was away from the drop. A quick glance at the data pad showed the little bug was already transmitting, Quo keyed the access for the real Militia to be able to read the frequency and capture the traitor.

Quo’s fingers were a flurry of activity as he also reported the actions of the waitress, leaning back with the pad in his hand as if trying to read something whilst capturing her image. Not bad he thought as he looked at the captured image before forwarding it to the leadership of his Clan. He would not move on her yet, the more she believed that she was under the radar the more useful she would be.

The stranger finished his own beverage, Quo finishing his own a couple of seconds later. Almost as one they arose from their individual seats, leaving credits for their refreshments and leaving within a pace of each other. This was where Quo would come into his own.

The stranger turned to the left heading down the boulevard of lights and advertisements into the citys main pedestrian thoroughfare. Quo walked across the plaza outside heading for a small stall seemingly to browse the news that was fed onto plas sheets to take away. All the while he watched the leather clad bounty hunter out of the corner of his eye. Moving away from the stand he followed on the opposite side of the wide walkway, watching his quarry in the reflections of the shops and bazaars that he passed as well as glancing over every so often as he kept a slight distance behind him.

Some two hundred meters he tailed the Dominion spy before he lost him. Closing the distance as quickly as he could he soon realised the reason why he had lost his target, he had climbed a stairway that climbed upwards leading off the pavement. Stepping into the narrow space that accessed the stair well the shadows engulfed him. Anybody watching would have seen the Zabrak seemingly disappear into fresh air. Moving slowly and deliberately he made his way upwards.

He could hear the bounty hunter up ahead of him, the footfalls echoing down the narrow enclosure as he climbed, oblivious to the Sith that was tracking him. Quo was almost silent in comparison, closing the distance, knowing that wherever this was leading would soon be over. There had been no exits from the climb at any level so Quo pushed on, a growing belief that this lead to only one place, the roof. Perfect place to park the vessel that had brought you, and with a growing feeling of certainty that they were the only ones that were up here, things couldn’t be better.

Quo entered the final landing, an open doorway before him showing the roof area open to the elements and empty apart from a solitary shuttle and a light speeder vehicle that was only able to travel inside the atmosphere, not in space. Making his way over to the shuttle he could see that the hatch was lowered and there were a leather clad pair of legs just about to ascend to the interior.

In a flurry of action Quo whipped out a throwing blade and in one fluid motion the blade was flying out from his hand, zeroing in on the thigh of the Dominion operative. The blade thudded into the muscle, all the fury and anger that the Zabrak felt being channelled into the throw. With a thud the leg was swept out from underneath the bounty hunter, his body hitting the metal of the hatch. Quo closed the gap between them to less than five meters with a leap that defied any watchers belief as the stranger started to bring up his blaster pistol to aim at the fully revealed Sadowan.

Rolling to get a bead on the black form was harder than the hunter expected, his muscles not responding as quickly as they usually did, it felt like he was moving through treacle. Within a couple of seconds of being speared through the thigh his bodily functions were becoming slower and slower. It felt like an age before his arm came up to the aiming position by which time the Zabrak was in front of him, up close and personal.

“You can try squeezing the trigger, but by now I’m sure my neurotoxin is fully enmeshed with your brain,” Quo was sneering as he said it, his red and gold eyes were burning into his soul, “and your muscles are unresponsive. Now it is time that I get you out of here and I can ask you some questions.” He half turned away before resuming his position, “And, yes...... it may well hurt”

Eyes gleaming he lifted the bounty hunter onto his shoulders carrying him up the access ramp and securing him into the third seat at the rear of the cockpit. Firing up the engines he knew a place where he could take him, without further ado he lifted the shuttle off the roof, swinging the nose round to the West.

“My Master will help you,” Quo hissed from the pilots seat, “help you fill in all the details we are missing.”

The reflected red from the controls added to the fire in his eyes as he took his prize to where he would be most useful, towards his Master, Tasha’Vel Versea, and towards revelation.

There once was a man who looked like a Panda and liked to walk naked in the woods. I came upon this man. I wish I was born Miralukan.

The night was still and quiet, not a breath of wind across the open desert. Even on the down slopes of the mountain ranges in the distance there was utter stillness. The nocturnal predators were hunting their prey under the cover of the dark. The only illumination came from the reflected red light of the dwarf star at the centre of the system bouncing down from the three small moons that circled above, locked in their own orbit of this small planet. The stillness carried every little sound across the void, every sand fall, every scuffle, every foreshortened cry from the prey as they were taken.

Above the sky was clear. The planet did not produce enough moisture for clouds to form making the night time temperatures drop to below freezing, whereas the daytime temperatures soared towards the one hundred and fifties, boiling any life form that was not properly adapted to the massive variance of the climate.

The Eenzaam entered the upper atmosphere over the southern pole, far enough from any centres of population that the vortices from his entry would attract the least amount of attention. To any observer below it would simply look like another meteorite, or lump of debris in its final throes before total disintegration on the surface below. Quo had cut the engines so that the ship would glide down to the surface, the only sound being the tortured scream of the pressure wave impacting the bows of the TIE Oppressor.

He waited as the fiery trail died down as his altitude decreased and the pressure equalised against the hull. His speed bled off as the friction pulled on the superstructure of the vessel, buffeting the ship as she glided towards the desert below. Quo had the craft in a slow, long spiral down, keeping to the South as much as possible, he knew that he would be a long way from his targets, but he would keep the element of surprise. His scanners indicated that there were only two places on this planet that were populated to more than a family grouping, and they were both North of the bled that he was aiming to land on. Controlling his speed and descent were critical, in effect he was flying a glider, he didn’t want the sound of the engines to give away the fact that he wasn’t an asteroid plummeting to its doom.

Turning onto his final approach he scanned the sand that was flashing past beneath his cockpit view panel watching for any rocky outcrops that would end his landing cycle in a short, sharp, disintegrating type of way, something that he wanted to avoid at all costs. Releasing the landing gear he felt the speed bleeding off the ship as the aerodynamics were disrupted by the landing struts. Balancing his speed against lift he brought her in to a smooth landing, the skis skipping over the sand, kicking up dust as they gained traction on the planets surface, bringing her to a smooth stop without so much as a crunch or a bang to escape over the dunes.

Checking his instruments Quo shut down the ship, all electrical systems closed down so that there were no tell tale echoes from his arrival. He could feel that his quarry was here, all his senses were alerted to their presence. Opening the hatches beneath the panels on the struts he took down his pack, turning and making his way across the emptiness of the desert. He had four hours until sunrise, and he needed to be under cover by then, before the temperature rose too high for him to safely be out in the open. Clipping his vibrosword and lightsaber to his belt and hefting the pack onto his shoulder he set off northwards.

---

The thing with a small planet is the days are so short he thought as he approached the rocky buttress jutting into the smoothness of the desert. He was only a click or so away from the craggy cliffs, and the sun was already starting to show shards of russet from beyond the horizon marking its impending arising. The rays of its light were making the darkness darker in places as the shadows grew with the suns back lighting. Upping his pace he knew he had to get into shelter before the sun rose to its zenith when the sands would be like hot embers to his exposed body. Within ten minutes he had made it to the foot hills of the escarpment and began the climb up the slope. His eyes were scanning the shadows looking for a place to camp through the worst of the heat.

A crevice above him attracted his attention, turning to his right he began the ascent to what he hoped was a cavernous entrance he had spotted some three hundred feet above him. Scrambling over the lower faces, mostly broken and fallen boulders dislodged from above, probably by the constant cooling and heating of the surface material causing it to fracture and crash down from above. With sure feet he climbed higher until he was finally in front of the opening, making his way into the darkness, searching with his feelings for any unwanted predatory inhabitants through his connection with the Living Force. Sensing nothing he ventured inside, following the curve of the fracture slightly downwards and away from the heat that was building behind and above him. Settling down he set up his water reclaiming unit, and poured himself a mug of water. The best way of conserving fluids was to carry them round in your body and he knew that over the next three hours, until the sun had started setting over the hills in the far South that he would have to replenish all that he had lost in the night on his trek across the desert.

Patience was not one of Quo’s primary attributes, but he knew that he must wait. He also knew that his quarry would have to wait as well, the heat was simply too oppressive to allow any work out in the open in any resemblance of safety. The treasure hunters had no reason to leave quickly anyway, they had only arrived a few hours before he himself had alighted on the planets surface, they were far more likely to stay here for a while and keep a low profile. They had no idea that they were being persued, and would no doubt be making enquiries as to a buyer for their prize, that would mean staying and waiting themselves until notification was received.

He passed the hours by checking his equipment, making sure that he was fully prepared. He was focussed completely on his task, so much so that when he glanced up at his chronograph he realised that there were only a few minutes until the sun began sinking below the tops of the mountains far South of his current position. Packing up his gear again he rose and made his way out to the cavern entrance watching for a moment as the sun disappeared behind the crags far away. Setting out again over the sand he only had a hike of some forty minutes until he was on the outskirts of the largest settlement, the place where his computer had showed him that the thieves had landed their own craft.

That was how he saw them, as thieves. They had gone down to Tasha’s home planet and taken from her. They had taken only one thing, so they were being paid by someone else, someone who knew the value of the item, and that someone must never get their hands on it, and he would do anything to prevent it. He knew that the item had existed, but had no idea that his own Master held it in her inventory, he had no idea that it had survived. It was far too dangerous a thing to be allowed to be let loose on the Galaxy, even if he felt the pull of it, goading him into taking it for himself. He wouldn’t of course, his Master had given him a mission and he would complete it. Anyway he knew where it was should he decide that he needed it.

His reverie had made the miles pass by without conscious thought or effort, he only came back to the ‘now’ when he was less than two clicks from the settlement. Lying on his belly just behind the crest of a large dune overlooking the camp, for that was all that it was, there were no solid structures within its confines, merely a rag tag mismatch of temporary abodes. Scanning from his vantage point through his ocular magnifiers he could make out several ships of differing configurations. He soon zeroed in on a Corellian cargo runner. The markings were consistent with the testimonies of the witnesses to their flight from Ryloth, and the manifest had given him false identification number from the transponder. Taking out his pad he sent an electronic enquiry to the ships transponder which was answered by a ping. Checking the readout he saw that it was the same identification. He had them! He continued watching the encampment for the next twenty minutes seeing no signs of patrols or guards, only a couple of local militia that were watching the latest pod race broadcast on a viewer within a Sanger towards the eastern edge of the settlement.

Quo made his way down towards the parking area for the ships, moving quickly and silently down the dune alleys in a wandering path, using the shadows to his advantage. Through concentration he was able to avoid detection from the Force users within the perimeter of the enclosure, whilst the darkness concealed his physical form. Sprinting from the final dune over the open space set out for landing craft he stayed low and quiet as he approached the target ship. Slapping his hand onto the release button the boarding hatch slid out and downwards to meet the desert floor, a black shadow detaching itself from beneath to vault up the slope into lit interior. In an instant the hatch slid shut again leaving no sign that it had been activated to all but the keenest eyed passer by.

The ship itself was small, barely a more than a shuttle in all reality with a central area where the crew slept, ate, and carried out the minutiae of every day life. There were storage lockers along one of the walls along with a food unit for heating provisions. The place was a mess, detritus from the crew strewn about the compartment, discarded food packaging and clothing items laying around in a haphazard manner. Quo opened the lockers one by one finding nothing but the crews personal effects within their metallic interiors. He searched quickly and efficiently attempting to leave no impression that he had ever been there, even so it took him the best part of thirty minutes to ensure himself that the item was not located within any of the storage spaces contained within the oval room. Turning he left and headed for the cockpit area, although he felt this also may be a dead end.

Entering the bubble of the cockpit he knew that he was more vulnerable here than at any other part of his reconnoitre of the ship due to the plexiglass windows that made up sixty percent of the piloting control area. It gave the craft an excellent field of vision for the pilot, but gave little in the way of cover for anybody searching the area. From the outside his silhouette could be clearly seen from the outside. Concentrating hard he appeared to anyone observing the ship to fade out, his profile disappearing into the background. Moving with deliberate precision he checked the cramped confines of the cockpit for any hidden access panels, the floor, the walls holding the plexiglass, nothing!

A hiss and groan from the hydraulics signalled that the hatch was being accessed from outside. Quo froze. He waited listening for the noise as the crew boarded their vessel, the snatches of their conversation carrying along the corridor to his position.

“Why haven’t we had any reply yet? Do you think that the merchandise has become hot?” The lilting voice of youth carried through the silence of the ship, from the sound of it this was a young male, although Quo didn’t exclude the chance that it was a female. Moving from the cockpit silently he moved into the corridor, less chance of being cornered than the cockpit.

“Quiet!” The gruff male tones garnered no choice about it, “Someone has been here. Secure the ship!”

Sounds of activity filtered towards him as weapons were primed and systems activated sealing the ship from the inside. Dead bolts fired into place as the door to the hatch was sealed, the ‘thunk’ deafening as it echoed throughout the ship, the vibration sending shock waves through the steel skeleton of the cargo runner. Quo waited, his feet shoulder width apart, left foot in front of his right, his right hand wrapped lightly around the hilt of his lightsaber, his left containing one of his throwing knives. If he had to kill best to make it quick and quiet if at all possible.

The gruff voice boomed again from the central cabin, “We know you are here, come out and no sudden moves,”

Quo thought that he may be bluffing to bring out an inexperienced thief, but he would take no chances, moving forwards down the corridor he approached the opening into the oval space on the other side of the bulk head.

“Come out Jedi, Know you are here do I.” Another male, they were giving him more intelligence with every passing second.

Reaching the frame of the door way the young Zabrak was about to crane his neck around the edge to take a look. Instinct made him pull backwards at the last second, something inside him making him retreat as the blade of a lightsaber ignited and swept downwards, bisecting the air where a split second before his face was about to occupy. Quo’s own blade ignited with a ‘snap-hiss’, the crimson light reflecting from the panels in the corridor, making a sickly colouration where his own blade and his opponents illuminated the brushed steel of the tube in which he was standing.

The green blade advanced through the opening followed by its owner. The Human female was far smaller than he was although the musculature of her rippled with every movement. Her small frame was well toned, and she was light on her feet, the muffled footfalls belying the speed of her advance. Clad in leather trousers and jacket covering a simple cotton shirt her eyes were brilliant blue almost piercing in the gloom of the corridor.

Quo’s rapid movements had shattered the illusion of invisibility. Standing a good head taller than his opponent he advanced, his red and gold eyes glinting with the anticipation of taking down this light sider. His eyes narrowed as he advanced.

Her blade sliced forwards across him at neck height, his own blade meeting it in a jabbing motion, rolling around the diameter pushing it up and away from his head. The clash of the energy weapons leaving a smell of ozone in the confined space, the crack and spit from their connection rebounding from the walls amplifying the noise into an assault on both their hearing. Quo’s wrist flicked out bringing the tip of his blade around and down jabbing it into the soft tissue of the Force sensitives shoulder, a cry escaping her as she involuntarily reeled backwards. Quo jabbed again, his blade being parried uncomfortably by the Jedi in front of him, her balance and grip being weakened by the pain she felt, and the necessity to wield her own weapon single handed. Retreating she led his advance into the heart of the ship, back to the oval room whence she had emerged. As he emerged from the restrictive space of the corridor he mentally tallied up the opposition within the cabin. Three humans and a Gungan. As he entered the Gungan raised a bow caster to his shoulder, readying himself for releasing the energy of the weapon on the Sith warrior, his finger curling from the trigger guard onto the trigger itself.

Like a flash Quo’s left hand whipped out, the blade contained within it arrowing a track towards the would be shooter the glittering light reflecting from the cutting edge as it flew across the room. With an audible ‘thunk’ it struck the sniper between his eye stalks, the impact throwing him backwards into the lockers behind him. A crash followed by a crumpling marked the end of his life in a pool of his own fluids.

A volley of fire from his right from the largest of the men filled the room with blaster bolts and smoke from their impact. Quo moved at superhuman speed into the centre of the room, his blade beating a tattoo of deflection directing the bolts away from his body as he moved. One of the bolts deflected from the scarlet dancing blade struck the other human in the chest, the smell of burning flesh filling the air with smoky, barbecue smell as the victim fell where he stood, his legs buckling beneath him.

A gesture from Quo’s left hand and the space was filled with blue and white lightning, the energy leaping from metallic surface to metallic surface enveloping the two remaining foes within the fingers of its grasp. Holding both of them with the crackling pulses the Siths saber cut down the Jedi before him, separating her head from her body, the look of shock forever etched onto her features as her body fell onto the grill of the floor. A spinning strike covered the distance to the final opponent, his weapon disintegrating as the crimson saber cleaved it in half.

Quo ended the lighting storm as quickly as he started it, the silence of the cabin seeming to be deafening to the lone human treasure hunter as the Zabrak approached.

“Where is it?” The Sith growled the question toward the lone survivor, “I know you have it. Where is it?”

The final three syllables were emphasised, a gesture from the warrior of finger against thumb seeming to drive the air from the Captains lungs. His eyes widened, the iris and pupils fully separated from the lids surrounding them making them seem to be huge in his terror. His lips quivered, seemingly fighting to get the words out faster than his muscles would allow.

“Cargo bay, floor panel, code 14be568,” he stammered as his feet led his body backwards into the wall.

“Show me!” The words seemed to have a power all of their own, driving the Captain past him, Quo following a couple of paces behind.

The human pressed the release catch for the cargo bay and the hatch sprung upwards into the bulk head opening out into a small but functional cargo bay. Scurrying ahead the Captain pointed to the floor panel towards the rear right of the hold.

“Open it!”

Pressing down on the panel it released the mechanism, the covering flicking up a fraction before the treasure hunter eased it up and back to reveal the access panel below, his fingers tapping out the code. The door beneath slid across. Looking back upwards the last thing that the Captain saw was the Zabrak’s crimson blade slicing down towards his head. Quo reached down and pulled the humans remains out of the way and looked into the secure hold below.

With reverence he withdrew the item from its resting place in the base of the safe. Lifting it up in front of his eyes he absorbed the lines admiring the quality of its manufacture. How many others had actually held it before? Very few he guessed. Rotating it in his hand he viewed it from every angle trying to absorb the essence of it through his eyes. He could feel the power radiating from it, fuelling his own desire for power, screaming out to him to claim it for his own. He could feel the greatness issuing forth from it, calling to him through the Force. Turning it towards him he both admired and craved it, and the man who had once owned it. Holding it in both hands now he turned it so that the eye sockets were staring back at him. To hold the face plate of Darth Vader in his own hands tempted him more than any other item than he had ever beheld before, but he knew he had to return it to Tasha’Vel. She required it of him.

Placing it inside the canvas bag that he had brought to transport it he stood. Reaching into his belt pouches he removed several of the charges and set them. He would not leave any clues as to his passing, all traces must be erased. Approaching the hatch he accessed the door release before exitting and closing it behind him. Like a wraith he returned to the desert from which he came, retreating behind a large dune before keying the detonator. The Corellian cargo runner erupted in a mushroom of orange and yellow heat, shrapnel arcing away in all directions, the ‘plops’ of metal fragments impacting around him after the blast of the pressure wave had passed over him.

Satisfied that his work here was completed he turned away heading back towards the South, and his own ship deep in the desert. The darkness enveloped him as he retreated into the night carrying his precious cargo back to his Master. He would be home soon, back in the fold of his fellow Sadowans. And now he knew what the relic was, and where it was housed. The covetousness still burned within him, the embers fuelling his grip on the Dark Side. One day, when he needed it, it would be his. The fire inside was the only light as he began the journey home, no other illumination was required for the Sith, he could see his way plainly now.

The sun had been down for hours, and the base he had landed at was observing light discipline during the tumultuous times surrounding them. Even though he'd been called by one of the most influential people from the independent House Ektrosis, Keirdagh was wary. These people, surrounded in power had just spat in the face of the establishment. They had declared war on the whole Brotherhood. It was only his close relationship with Telaris Cantor that even brought him out of his self imposed exile.

"You look lost, Colonel," said a man with a deep, resonating voice his face hidden by the low red lights and the shadows. Something about him though, radiated power, and gold strips trimmed his cloak. "The galaxy is changing, Mr. Cantor. Let us see if we can shape it together."

Abadeer walked into the circle, screaming and yelling all around him in the native Togruti tongue. He bare chested, with additional white designs painted on to his body to compliment the natural beautiful weave of markings on him. The crowd chanted him on, to fight his opponent. Only one would have victory this day! Abadeer was young, but he was also strong. One of the strongest in his clan already. Taasii ran at the opposing Togruta, this one blue and white. His opponent was winded, they had both been fighting most of the last two days against various opponents. Abadeer took the advantage, getting underneath his opponent, lifting him up and then slamming him back to the ground. A sharp crack reverberated right before Abadeer began to beat into his opponent. The prone man could not do much more than a feeble attempt at holding his hands up to try to protect himself, but there was no strength left in his arms. Taasii punched and elbowed, his opponent’s guard meant nothing, so he did not notice when the mans arms fell limp to the ground. Abadeer had been overtaken by rage, pure and simple. He didn’t even remember what he was doing til he’d been pulled off the man. The blue Togruta was dead, an accident to be sure, but one that would change Taasii’s life forever. His first kill.

Lights flashed all around as Abadeer dropped out of lightspeed. A beautiful blue and green planet loomed ahead in the distance. Taasii was ready to unwind after the long battles fought on Florrum. Serenno was a beautiful planet with plenty of nature for Taasii to escape into. He didn’t have a desire to go back to Shilli currently, but he needed to escape the technology and the cities. The Togruta brought his Infiltrator in for a landing. After turning off the ship, Taasii walked out into the fresh open air of the field he’d landed in. He was going out, on an unknown course to try to loosen up. He’d left all of his weapons and gear in the ship. He return in a few days. There were mountains to the east of his location and he decided to head there. The Hunter spent several hours hiking through the plains that he’d landed in. Occasionally seeing, hearing or picking up on his echolocation small animals scurrying through the grass. He ignored them all, just enjoying being away from people. Eventually Abadeer made it to the mountains. It was getting later, nearly evening now. A slow fog was rolling down the side of the mountains now. The Sith would not be deterred, he was determined to make it to the top of the mountain. Hiking upwards there weren’t many difficult places that Taasii couldn’t get through. Coming over one rise the Togruta stared up at an incredibly steep cliff. He rolled his shoulders, getting ready for a climb. He would test his strength against this cliff. He reached up and found purchase in the rocks, hoisting his body off the ground. He continued to climb the tall rock face, which took about fifteen solid minutes of hard work. Reaching the top, with sweat dripping down his entire body. His finger muscles and forearms were aching, but with a good soreness. It had been a good climb, and the journey was worth it. As he continued to hike, Taasii would pass his hands on the solid trees of the mountain. They were different than those of his own home world. Less wild, but almost stronger. They’d survived the winds and cold of the mountain. An increasing rushing noise alerted the Hunter to running water. As he approached a beautiful clearing appeared, with a majestic waterfall crashing to the rocks below. Abadeer was right near the base of the fall and decided he’d stay here for the night. He could use some time to clear his mind. He removed his cloak and his top and strode into where the water was crashing down. He knelt down and crossed his legs. The water crashing down on his head and shoulders was quickly overwhelming to his senses. It stimulated his echolocation, totally causing the Hunter to lose sense of his surroundings. After losing the sense of everything around him Taasii let his conscious slowly slip into himself, until he’d nearly lost himself in the meditation. After an indeterminable amount of time Taasii slowly opened his eyes. He was met with the rising sun over the horizon. He stood up and walked out of the waterfall. He’d been there all night, in a state between being awake and asleep. An almost total loss of consciousness. He became aware of how cold he was, the cool mountain air and the nearly icy temperature of the water had caused the tips of his extremities to go numb. He closed his eyes focusing on the numbness, using the Force to bring warmth back into his limbs. He wrapped his top and cloak back around his frame and started back up the mountain. It took several more hours, but finally Abadeer arrived at the summit. The view was beautiful and the Sith felt like he was on top of the world. He contemplated his rise to power. He was in a process, but he imagined this is what it would be like when he made it to the top. He stayed for several hours pondering his path and where his journey would lead. Finally the man stood and began to make the arduous journey back to his ship. The respite had been good and exactly what he’d needed, but it was time to get back to work.

Inquisitorius Competition

The tall, shadowy, hooded figure of Abadeer Taasii strolled quickly through the streets of Coronet. This city was huge, bustling and took Taasii right out of his element. He was on a secret mission, straight from the Grand Master himself. Abadeer had recently been inducted to the secret society of the Inquisitorius, the secret sect of the Brotherhood tasked with eliminating threats to the Grand Master and the Brotherhood itself. Taasii had been given this assignment three days ago, on a secure hololink channel. 

———— Taasii sat quietly in his quarters on the massive space station, The Anchorage. He’d been reading through a holocron, gleaning information and power. A slow beeping came from across the room, there was a small desk in his room with a hololink projector. Taasii set down his holocron and walked over to the desk and activated the call. Instead of the normal blue toned figure that would appear, only a symbol, one the Hunter recognized as Inquisitorius appeared from the holo projector.

The voice that came out was distorted, and robotic. It could have been male, female or who knows what else, Abadeer couldn’t tell. “The Grand Master has need of the Inquisitorius, to perform for him a mission on the core world of Corellia. There are a number of Jedi there attempting to acquire a ship from the Engineering Clans.”

“Of course, my lord,” Abadeer replied back, “What would you have me do?”

“Go to the capital city of Coronet, gather what information you need, and hunt them down. Whatever means necessary for stopping the Jedi from gaining that ship.” the disguised voice said. “Do not disappoint us, we are easily displeased and you can insure that our wrath would be unlike anything you’ve ever faced.”

Taasii felt a chill down his spine, indeed the Inquisitorius were powerful. The hololink cut out and left the room silent. The Togruta could not do much more than just stand there for a moment. He was a Hunter now, training to hunt down and kill Jedi. He looked up. He would not fail. He could not, or he had no doubt it would cost him his life. ————



Abadeer shook his head, he’d arrived on the planet quickly in his Sith Interceptor following the interaction with the mysterious call. He was not skilled at all in gaining information through the Force, pulling it directly from other’s mind, but he had other means. More crude and basic. He’d learned from a now dead Rodian thug that there were Jedi in hiding in Coronet. This particular night was the time that was rumored the Engineering clan was supposed to be sending off a new ship. A CR90 Corvette class runner. If the Jedi had this ship, it would allow them a mobile base of operations that would afford them means to avoid capture and punishment from the Grand Master. 

The Plaguein made his way through the streets trying to stay inconspicuous, but still move quickly. After several more minutes Taasii made his way into the shipping yards. Miles and miles of construction areas where ships launched on a daily basis. The Inquisitor’s eyes narrowed searching for the Corvette. After searching for a few moments he spotted the massive ship some ways in to the shipping yard. It was hard to make out but it looked like there were people getting ready to load supplies onto the ship for take off. Abadeer needed to hurry. He started off at a run, even tapping into the Force to help get to the ship as quickly as possible. There was a decent sized wall surrounding the yard preventing average citizens unauthorized entry. Taasii was no average citizen, and with Force fueled muscles he vaulted himself over wall from his running start. 

Making his way through the various ships and construction projects Abadeer eventually made his way to the Corvette. It did indeed look just about prepared for take off. Unfortunately for the young Sith, there were several Jedi all standing watch, making sure the preparations went well. Abadeer was not sure how we would be able defeat one Jedi, let alone all of them. They could all be Masters for all he knew. Continuing to stay low, attempting to suppress his emotions as best as he could to remain undetected, the Plaguein made his way around the perimeter of the ship. There was no way he’d make it two steps up the main hatch without being cut down by the Jedi. He’d have to figure something else out. 

Taasii made his way deeper into the shipping yard to try to find some smaller more militarized ships. The Corvette once in orbit would be difficult to take down with its shields, but down on the ground during preparations stages would much easier to seriously damage or destroy. There a few larger ships with weapon systems, but Abadeer would have difficulty flying and gunning in one of these. He continued his search for a smaller ship. Eventually the perfect ship presented itself. An old Imperial TIE/sa Bomber, probably claimed right after the fall of the Emperor. 

Abadeer ran up to the ship, reaching out with the Force to descend the entrance hatch. The Togruta wasn’t highly familiar with ships, but he did know how to fly. He sat down at the controls hoping that TIE bombers weapons would still be active. He quickly went through the launch procedure and brought the ship up into the air. He maneuvered it quickly with a heading straight for the Corvette. Once Abadeer got close enough he pulled on the trigger to activate his targeting system and begin his bombing run. A loud wurring noise came from down below the Plaguein. What happened next was not what he’d hoped. A bomb descended as planned, but instead of being directed for the Corvette it dropped straight down on to a small freighter ship. It exploded grandly, but not what Abadeer had wanted. Everyone was alerted to him now, and glancing down he saw that there was only the one bomb in the ship. He’d lost his chance.  

The onboard computer system started blaring, warning him that he was now locked onto by the Corvette’s weapon systems. He did his best to perform evasive maneuvers to stay out of the way, not confident in the shielding on the ship. A desperate idea came to him, but it would be risky. Turning the ship back straight for the Corvette, Abadeer set it to full throttle and grabbed onto the ejector seat lever like his life depended on it. Moments before impact he pulled the switch and deployed straight into the air while watching his TIE fighter crash stupendously with another colossal explosion into the Corvette’s bridge. 

After landing his ejector seat, Abadeer ran for his life. He couldn’t be sure any Jedi were even injured in the attack, and they would be pursuing him now. He just wanted to get off the planet now with his life. 

Gliding through realspace, a Lambda-class Shuttle made its way towards the Arcanum, ready to drop-off a load of hopeful Initiates, eager to take their first steps in the Brotherhood after their extended journey. But the wait of a long trip was nothing compared to how long two of its passengers had waited, a Sullustan brother-sister pair. Raised on Tatooine and in a traditional Obelisk home, the two siblings had spent each moment of their 13-year old lives in preparation for the day they could serve the Brotherhood, becoming official members of the Obelisk Order and Clan Plagueis, where they would join the ranks of their long-serving mother and father. Even now, as the shuttle touched down in the Arcanum's hanger, the brother and sister positioned themselves at the entrance ramp, waiting for it to be lowered.

The first to step off the shuttle was Aelita, the older sister, and the next was Alishu, the younger brother.

Meeting a droid and a series of Dark Jedi Knights, ready to take on students, each of the new Initiates reported for their trials. Those that failed became members of the crew, the ship's roster of sentient crewmen drastically low after the alien invasion and the evacuation of Lypsair. Those that succeeded were assigned a clan, house, and battleteam, becoming the apprentice of one of the Knights who so readily watched their arrival.

It was in this manner that Alishu became part of Primus Pilus and House Exar Kun of Clan Plagueis.