Fiction Gallery

While Rulvak was studying up on his most recent encounter with Arcia, he realized that she had changed in her time away from the Nighthawk. He decided he would look deeper into her recent past, and focus on what he had missed while she was absent. He would not have someone this close, without knowing them entirely. To be continued (in length) next month!

The first light of Kr'tal broke through the bedroom window. Andrelious awoke as he felt his cheek beginning to warm in the sunlight. In the corner of his eye, he spotted that his datapad had recieved a commiunique.

The Warlord turned to check on his wife. He had little idea of how good Kooki's night had been; it depended entirely on how much of her milk that their twin daughters had required. Even now they were 18 months old and enjoying all kinds of solid food, they were showing no signs of wanting to stop.

"I'll have a caff!" Kooki stated in her most demonstrative tone. Andrelious frowned. She was only so pushy in the morning when the twins had been particularly hungry.

As he walked past their nursery, the Sith peeped into the room to check on his daughters. They were sat up and pulling faces at each other. On sensing their father's arrival, they quickly turned to greet him.

"Dad-dy!" the girls cooed in almost complete unison.

"Morning, girls. I'm guessing you're ready for some breakfast?" the Warlord asked, scooping each twin into one of his arms.

"Ber-ber!" Poppy demanded, followed by Etty making the exact same request. Andrelious knew exactly what they were after: a mix of wild berries that their mother had foraged the previous evening.

Sitting the twins into their high-chairs, Andrelious set to working making 2 berry mixes, a set of nunna bacon sandwiches for himself and Kooki, and two large mugs of strong caf. He had just got everything ready when his spouse arrived, glaring at him angrily.

"I was going to stay in bed for this after the night I had, but your frakking datapad won't shut up. Finish making my sandwich then go and deal with it!" the Battlemaster snapped.

"Whatever it is can wait until we've had our breakfast. The only person who can order me around is sat in the kitchen," Andrelious replied, daring to make his tone slightly flirtaious as he handed Kooki her sandwiches and caf.

The female managed a smile. "I'm glad to know you're starting to learn your place. Great bacon, by the way, babe! You really know your way around a kitchen!" Kooki replied, swatting her husband's posterior playfully.

Andrelious pretended not to hear as he sat down to tuck into his own breakfast. Poppy and Etty were already enjoying their berry mixes. Silence befell the Mimosa-Inahj household as the family ate their meals.

As usual, Kooki finished first, but made no attempt to clear away her plate. Instead, she waited for Andrelious to finish, and simply glanced at the Warlord to indicate what she wanted done.

"I'd better just go and check my datapad. Just in case it's some Jedi insurrection somewhere," the former Imperial stated as he placed the breakfast dishes into the sink, before heading back to the bedroom.

Andrelious checked his datapad, frowned, and erased the message. Kooki noticed him re-entering the kitchen seemingly moments after he had left.

"I'm ignoring it. Some kind of prison break. Sounds like it'd be easy enough that we could just send the girls," Andrelious explained.

"Nothing stopping you doing the dishes, then, babe!" Kooki teased.

The Eenzaam skimmed the surface of the water, not close enough to cause a spume of spray to follow in its wake, but low enough to stay below any early warning stations that may be watching for traffic. The altimeter read four meters, but the waves cresting below the view port seemed a lot closer to Quo as he piloted the vessel onwards, deeper into enemy territory. The briefing had placed the ship within fifty clicks of his current position, and there were only two islands on the maps that the Clan had been able to get their hands on. The responses from his radar also showed only two islands out there. If it hadn’t crashed onto one of those it was covered by water to a depth of a hundred meters or more.

Turning towards the nearest of the islands he cut throttle to a little above stall speed. This not only would mask the sound of his engines somewhat, but would give him a chance of seeing any debris from above. Closing the distance still would not take him long. Scrutinising the radar readout in front of the pilot seat he looked at the radar reflection coming back from the island ahead. Two peaks that rose to over a thousand meters, but otherwise it was flat. Between the two hillocks was a valley that ran the width of the island from coast to coast. Setting that as his target he could see the island approaching quickly, expanding in the view port exponentially, filling up the window in less than twenty seconds. Banking slightly left he skimmed the tops of the few trees that were growing below his transit of the island. Nothing.

Starting at the centre of the island he worked his way outwards from the centre in an expanding spiral looking for signs of debris. With one eye on the terrain flashing past the cockpit he covered the area of the island in less than ten minutes, even to the peak of the twin mounds of the hills, he double checked the area.

Even through his connection to the Force he could feel nothing, but he had also been told that the Force sensitive could be a fake, and a trap to lure in Sadowan operatives. Nonetheless he tried without any success. Both Locke and Marcus had warned him that it may turn out to be a wild goose chase. Still he was tasked with completing it, and his own pride would not let him accomplish a solution, one way or another, without it being done to a hundred percent of his efforts.

Turning to the east he headed towards the second area that the briefing had highlighted, bringing his altitude down to the absolute minimum he could get away with. At least the weather was working in his favour, the dull overcast conditions would prevent him being spotted by any glint of reflection from his vessel. Up ahead there were storm clouds gathering in the distance, they would again mask his approach, on the downside they would make the search more difficult.

Approaching the north western coast of the remaining island he was jolted by a mental image of a broken ship, the force to his mind being felt as keenly as if he had been punched. He couldn’t tell which direction it came from, but it was weak, and it was someone who knew the ways of the Force. Banking hard he pulled away from the island, the angle of the bank bleeding speed off the craft in the most expeditious way he could. Closing down the throttles he made an approach to land on the spit of rock that jutted out towards the north west, a slim finger of land that was embraced by the sea around it. Waves crashed against the face of the rocks throwing spray over the spit, the haziness hanging over the headland.

The Tie Oppressor came in over the raised platform of rock, hanging momentarily on the repulsor system before settling down onto her landing gear. Almost as soon as she touched down Quo was leaping from the cockpit opening above the pilots seat. The engines whined as they wound down towards complete shut down.

Landing lightly on his feet he absorbed the impact, bending his knees, one before the other, his left hand touching the ground before him as he ended in a crouched position. Eyes scanning along his immediate sight line he waited a couple of seconds before rising and moving off into the scrub. Concentrating fully he merged with the background, and tried to keep himself in the background as far as his presence within the Living Force was concerned. Any cover he could give himself would be advantageous, but he wasn’t sure how long he could keep up this level of concentration. Better not to be seen than felt, if there were any guards with the Force user he would rather have the advantage over them initially. Moving steadily and quietly he moved south east towards the centre of the island.

On the display he had seen that the island was about two miles by three quarters of a mile, roughly speaking that is. Had the cruiser come down in one piece it would have made a significant crater, the damage probably causing massive destruction to the island. As Quo looked there wasn’t much evidence of destruction, so he either had to assume that it had broken up on its descent through the atmosphere, or that it was a hoax of some kind. But how could you hoax a connection through the Force?

Some thirty minutes of hiking through the undergrowth he began to see signs of impact. Several large pieces of panelling were laying around, along with sundry detritus. Shards of metal were stroon around the area, although he hadn’t seen the impact site, it did appear to be a crash site. Still that could be faked he thought. Staying low and quiet he followed the trail around the base of an incline leading to a rocky outcrop. Clouds circled the summit and he could hear the wind whistling as it whipped around the craggy rocks up above. Rounding a formation of rocks that blocked his view across the island he stopped sharply, instinctively crouching from the sight before him.

A large section of the cruiser had come down on the island alright. The crater was some two hundred meters long, and maybe ten meters deep, an earthen scar across the greenery. Smoke and steam escaped from the downed section, which at first glance had stayed together reasonably well during the break up of the ship, Quo guessed to protect the precious passenger. If the Dominion regarded this individual highly enough to protect his section of the ship with structural shields, then he must be of some import.

Watching from his vantage point Quo saw three figures emerge from the wreckage, two Kaleesh and a Trandoshan. The tattoos marking the Trandoshan’s face and upper body were similar to his own, badges of honour. This one was the one he would have to watch. The Kaleesh acted as guardians to the Trandoshan, flanking him as he moved around the wreckage looking for the best positions to place his guards. Pointing out a slight rise in the ground at the edge of the furrow one of the Kaleesh moved across to his assigned position. Another gesture saw the other Kaleesh soldier move over towards the rear of the section, hankering down amongst the litter and debris. All well and good hiding if I hadn’t seen you do it thought Quo sliding his hand down to his belt taking out two throwing knives.

The Trandoshan moved back to the opening in the side of the cruiser hull remnant, disappearing inside again. Quo guessed that this was where the person of special interest would be located. First though he had to take care of the two Kaleesh guards. Darkness would be falling before long, and then they would be more focussed. He already knew their number, now all he had to do was reduce them. Moving silently he worked his way around to the rear of the smashed hulk he made his way as close as he could to the Kaleesh ensconced in the mangled parts of the ship. Quo had got to within two meters of his quarry, he hoped that this would be close enough. His next move would make him visible to all the Dominion agents, especially the Force sensitive within. Timing would be his ally, and he needed to use it wisely. Taking a calming breathe he relaxed his body, readying it for the burst of energy he was about to put through it.

With a burst he leapt at the Kaleesh nearest to him, driving his throwing knife through the eye of the recumbent operative, driving the blade of his knife deep into the brain of the sentry. The blood flowed freely as the guard breathed his last, his body relaxing as life left the body. Pivoting on his toes Quo sent both of the throwing knives in a vicious rake across the five meters to the other guardian, one sailing over his shoulder, one catching him under his exposed left arm pit. A grunt escaped the soldier as he rolled in an attempt to evade further attack from the Sith. Closing the ground between them, sprinting low and fast over the up slope of the destruction trench. The Kaleesh attempted to bring his blaster up to fire on the Zabrak as he rolled. Quo flung out an arm in his direction, fingers of blue and white lightning arcing out from his hand enveloping the reptilian in its fizzing embrace. Reaching down with his right hand the Sith drew up his saber, igniting it as he covered the ground in a loping stride. Placing the hilt under the face guard of the Dominion warrior he depressed the igniter button, the crimson red blade appearing through the top of the Kaleesh skull, fried blood and brains oozing through the nose vents of the mask.

Whipping his hand upwards he wrenched the blade free of the corpse, slicing open through its head as the blade reappeared. Turning towards the opening in the side of the fallen ship he could already hear the thumping of the approaching Trandoshan, the tempo of the footfalls letting him know that his foe was approaching, and approaching fast.

From the murk of the interior the hulking reptile warrior emerged, his hands gripping a huge vibro axe two handed, his massive frame rippling with muscles as he moved. “The Sssssscorekeeper ssssssendsssss tributessssss,” he sneered as he approached the Sith, “I ssssshall enjoy asssssisssssting your demisssssse.” The eyes gleamed with menace as he hefted the axe around and over his head, building momentum on the swing. With a deftness that belied his size the Trandoshan released his right hand, his left completing a back hand swing towards the Sith. Quo had to move quickly to avoid the strike, and even as he regained his footing the axe had begun another arc towards his position. Whipping out his vibroblade with his left hand in a reverse grip Quo deflected the shot around his body as he pivoted away from the massive Dominion specialist.

Quo’s left arm tingled from the impact from the vibro axe on his blade, the power of the strike making both blades sing in protest. I don’t want to be there if he connects fully thought Quo to himself. Watching the Trandoshan regain the two handed grip, he definitely didn’t want to be in the way of a strike from that! Ominously the huge reptilian advanced, left foot, then right, the axe hefted high over his right shoulder, ready to deliver a killing blow. The lips of the Trandoshan curled back his lips, saliva dribbling from the fangs, Quo knew it would be saturated with venom. Planting his left foot the soldier began the swing leading with his right shoulder, letting all his upper body weight transfer to the axe head. Quo leapt, more up than out of the way, thinking only to take himself up and over the blade, but finding himself clearing the behemoth and landing behind him. A flick with his saber was all he could manage, scorching the skin on the Trandoshan’s flank.

The massive warrior was deceptively agile, continuing the swing he had started towards Quo, bringing around with a pirouette on his left foot, the cutting edge of the blade scything around at waist height. Quo had landed well, both feet had landed together, however his stance was not ideal, a little too square for him to counter. Leaning backwards, bending at the knees the axe head tip sliced across his torso, cutting through the cloth of his tunic, and leaving a thin, straight incision which immediately bled.

The Trandoshan had not escaped unscathed as far as positioning went as the momentum of the massive effort he had put into the strike had over balanced him as the movement reached its climax. Quo straightened up, his feet dancing into position faster than the Dominion soldier could re-establish his own footing, his left leg flicking out and behind him to prevent him over balancing.

Like a cobra Quo’s left hand struck forwards, the vibro blade clasped within its grip slashing into the right hand side of the rib cage, its upward strike cutting to the bones of the ribs. A roar of anger, pain, and frustration came from the Trandoshan, his left arm being flung backwards by the weight of the previous strike. Quo’s left foot moved backwards, his right forwards, as he transferred the strike to his saber hand. Punching from the elbow as his right shoulder was driven forwards by his weight transfer he snapped out the punch toward the solar plexus of the Dominion elite. A resistance felt in his wrist told Quo that his strike was true, the blade of his saber following the line of the punch through the centre of the rib cage, and exitting between the shoulder blades. Eyes gleaming, full of hatred for his enemy Quo twisted the pommel, whipping the blade across and down eviscerating the hulk, ending his challenge.

Before the body had even started crumpling to the ground Quo was turning. Heading towards rent in the side of the cruiser he entered the gloom. Reaching out with his senses he located the Dominion force user in one of the chambers to his right, and light was pouring out of one of the rooms some seven meters ahead. Cautiously Quo approached, placing his back against the wall as he got to the broken door way. Keeping his body behind the bulk head he glanced quickly around the corner.

Inside there was a rough litter, and a glow globe. Placed upon the litter was another Trandoshan, but this one was hurt, probably from the impact. The lower part of his left leg was missing, and the whole of his right arm. An open wound ran from above his right eyebrow, down over the upper jaw, and several of the fangs had been lost, leaving bleeding holes where they had been. The right eye looked as though it would never work again, the pupil opaque, almost the same colour as the surrounding white.

“I sssssensssssse you Sssssssith, finisssssssth thisssss!” The Trandoshan’s good eye glared at Quo, challenging him to kill him.

Quo’s eyes burned with hatred, but for once he would follow orders. Taking his comm from his belt he keyed the button on the side. “Quo to Locke, Consul, I have him, send in medivac crew, I’ll keep him alive until they get here”

Reaching into one of the belt pouches he took out a hypo spray. Moving across to the Trandoshan he paused, looking down on the Force user he stood and stared.

“Ssssssso, itsssssss poisssssssssson isssssss it?” The reptile curled up his lips in an approximation of a smile, sure now that the Sith was about to kill him.

“No,” replied Quo, lining up the hypo spray with the creature’s jugular, “just sleepy time. But I’ll be here when you wake up..... I promise!” Quo’s eyes narrowed as the Dominion agent lost consciousness, although he saw the fire of hatred burning in the red and gold eyes that looked down upon him. Quo turned and made his way outside, signalling his exact position to the extraction crew. He would see this particular lizard again, he would make sure of it.

Manually added by Augur Elincia Rei

Manually added by Augur Elincia Rei

Manually added by Augur Elincia Rei

Manually added by Peacekeeper Tistito "Tisto" Kingang

Manually added by Peacekeeper Tistito "Tisto" Kingang

Manually added by Peacekeeper Tistito "Tisto" Kingang

Manually added by Peacekeeper Tistito "Tisto" Kingang

Manually added by Peacekeeper Tistito "Tisto" Kingang

Alright Janos, I am glad that you decided to join me on this errand." Bentre smiled at the older man.

The Knight gave a respectful nod to his former master in response. "'M jus' glad you felt ye needed me, Master." As the shuttle rocked, he extended a hand to stabilize himself.

"Our mission is very simple, at least in concept. It looks like the island might have cushioned the ship enough that the enemy Force user was not killed. Our job is to investigate the wreckage, and to contain the Force user. Locke says they have been using Battle Meditation, so if we can disrupt them the Warhost and our accomplices should be able to push the tide of this conflict back in our favor. If the Force is with us today, we may be able to realize the Consul's vision and wipe out the Dominion for good." Bentre looked out the shuttle's port window, seeing the form of the ship quickly growing larger.

"Just a few more moments and we will strike." Bentre cleared his throat, and rested a hand on his lightsaber, watching the spartan troop transport's entrance intently. As soon as the sound of the landing gear engaging could be heard, the Equite ignited his lightsaber. Stormwind followed suit, his glow of his purple beam mingling with the icey hue emanating from Stahoes' weapon. Janos looked forward grimly as the ramp descended, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach. Behind them was an injured-looking Trandoshan, bracketed on either side by another two Trandoshans.

His fears were realized as his eyes beheld the seemingly hundreds of yellow eyes staring back at him. "This is our time to strike. Together now!" As the Sith charged forward, the Journeyman stepped forward just behind him. As the Dominion foot soldiers charged forward in kind, the Sadowans brought their weapons up in retaliation. The two warriors turned their weapons about, cutting through the conventional weapons of the bloodthirsty lizards and cleaving into flesh. As blasters turned on the pair, Bentre threw out a hand, splaying his fingers. About two heartbeats later, white-blue tendrils arched from his fingers, striking the nearest of the Kaleesh and causing it to shriek in pain.

"Flee before your betters, common worms!" The Equite bellowed as his left eye began to glow. Shaking his hand quickly, the Corellian took a swipe with his lighsaber, cleaving through another Kaleesh. His vision seemed to narrow as the smell of blood hit his nose.

Revel in the destruction, Benny. Just give in to the hunter you are, take your fill of the carnage. The familiar, dark thoughts came back to mind. It was like his own voice, but not. Hard to explain, but for once he did not rebuke it. Now was the time to bring death.

Together, the two began to cut their way toward the trio of Trandoshans. As the crowd of Kaleesh began to fall away beneath their assault, the Shadow rmanaged to lock eyes with the injured alien. His fellows began to close in, to block the Corellian's path. Without hesitation, the Equite pulled back his arm below flinging his lightsaber forward in a tight arc. Using the Force to guide its trajectory, he watched as the weapon cleaved into the Trandoshan's chest. The creature let out a sharp cry of pain.

"Pull back, Janos!" He barked, reaching into his jacket. His fingers closed around a spherical object located where his blaster would normally have rested. Reaching back, the Sith flung the object between the trio. The grenade exploded in a flash of blue light and cold as Bentre called his lightsaber back to his fingers through the Force.

"Without their special boy, we need to hold them off long enough for the others to land. Maybe they can manage to keep the thing alive for questioning." Bentre growled and struck out with his reclaimed weapon, driving its blade into the eye socket of a particularly foolish Kaleesh who had gotten a little too close to his former apprentice. "We must make our stand here. Now, for the glory of Sadow!" Stahoes' raised his weapon in salute for a moment before twirling it around and drawing his feet back to square up his shoulders. This might test his application of Shii-Cho.

In a weird way, Bentre was looking forward to it.

"If we don't fight, the field is lost." Bentre looked down from his office in th e Lion's Tooth. Even from here, he could see the Iron Throne's loyal landing. Compressing the button on his commlink, he cleared his throat before speaking in a grave tone. "Alright Shar Dakhan, this is it. Looks like that worm Pravus won't let our people stand against his corruption much longer. So let's repel these intruders. We are at war. To arms! For Naga Sadow!"

As though on cue, several Warhost starfighters circled in on the landing shuttles. Doubtlessly Aexod would be among them. Two green lances of energy shot from the TIEs, striking the ground soundly. Stahoes could not hear their screams, but the sight brought him a smile. He wouldn't normally take this kind of initiative, but with Darkblade hiding away on the Sadowan ISD, Covenant he could not afford to stand on tradition. In the absence of the Quaestor, the responsibility fell to him. "Push these kriffing idiots back. Show them that we are not going to be conquered. I do not care where your loyalties lie, Dakhani. Stand up and defend your home."

The scene below was quickly becoming a bloodbath. Two shuttles, one bearing the colors of Marka Ragnos and the other bearing the colors of Shar Dakhan, landed about a hundred feet away from the large transport from which the soliders of the Iron Throne were actively disembarking. Lightsabers were alight, and his fellows were charging headlong toward the invaders.

There were those in the Clan who stood alongside the Grand Master in his genocide of those labeled as Undesirable. There were those who stood with Sanguinius in protest of the slaughter of the Jedi. There were those who stood on the sidelines, being tied up in their own affairs, caring not either way. Bentre was sure there was even some in the Clan who stood aside because they merely feared the Grand Master’s wrath. Sometimes he even thought that Locke might be among them.

In that moment, it did not matter. They were standing together as a House, as a family to stand against this attack on their home. The commlink on his desk crackled. “Master,” the voice of his old friend hissed over the worn speaker, “the hands of the Iron Throne are pushing us back hard. What are you orders?”

“I need you all to hold on a little longer, Janos. Aexod and the others are vectoring in on your position to provide some support from above.” Three fighters screamed past the office window, flying in tight formation. Two black TIE - Interceptors came in from above the Lion’s Tooth, following quickly on the Warhost pilots.

They way they were flying was akin to a raptor on the hunt, with all the skill and grace of a Tarchalian gazelle. This battle was going to get more ugly quickly. Bentre turned from the window, clutching his personal commlink in hand. “All Dakhani and Warhost, this is Aedile Stahoes. I am on my way down, immediately.” The Sith drew a breath, blinking as he tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach. “We are going to put the screws to these vermin, teach them to try to invade Sepros.

“Master!” The voice of Janos answered back, panic evident in his tone. “Another shuttle has landed. It looks like Atra is leading the Inquisitorius into the field.”

Bentre had to choke back a gasp. This fight was not going to go well. Now brother was plotted against brother, a Sadowan against his fellow Sadowans. The ties of blood would be stressed. Anger burned in his blood at the thought. This was going to be bad. He just hoped that this would not shake loose the close moorings of the Clan.

When I was nineteen years old I chose to go on a religious mission for my church. I would be doing service, and proselyting. In February of 2012, I submitted the necessary documents to be able to apply for this opportunity. I worked with my parents and local church leaders to do this. In April 2012 I received a letter from the leaders of my church saying that I was called to labor for two years in Scotland and Ireland. 
I would spend two years away from my friends and family with only the most basic of communication and amenities. Missionaries aren’t allowed to use computers, cell phones, or watch TV. Missionaries are paired with a companion for a period of 6 weeks to 6 months. You spend every waking moment of your life with them, never leaving each other’s sight. 
There is a rigid schedule to follow and all of this is done to help keep your mind focussed on the task at hand. A missionary wakes up at 6:30 am everyday, then exercises till 7. They then shower, get dressed and eat breakfast before 8. From 8 - 9 missionaries study by themselves what they plan to be teaching for the next day and the various things they might be particularly interested in learning that day. Then from 9-10 the companionship discusses what they studied, and studies together if needs be. Then for the rest of the day the missionaries teach, and do service. They have one hour for lunch and dinner, then are home at 9 to get ready for the next day and are in bed by 10. 
After finishing my three week training in a missionary training center, I was assigned to serve in a town called Livingston. This town is fairly small, located right outside Scotland’s capital city of Edinburgh. I was trained in the field by a young man named Alex. He was a good teacher, and he had a great work ethic. 
Eleven weeks into my two years over in the UK, we had one of our rare days off that happen once a week on Monday. We’d been invited to go on a hiking trip with some members from the local church. We went out to some hills, saw some sights and visited some ruins. It was a great day right until the very end. 
On the last hill we climbed for the day, the gentlemen leading our trip told us that we were going to be hiking up the last hill, and on the other side there would be a smooth rock face that we would slide down. When we reached the hill, we climbed up the back side and come to the point where the rack face was. All the people in our group slid down this hill and landed rolling at the bottom. The hill on this end was steep and nearly two stories above the ground. I was the last to go, and had a terrible feeling about what I was going to do. As soon as I landed at the bottom I watched my right leg break underneath me. 
The sound was like two guns shooting at the same time, and I watched my leg shoot out side ways. I knew instantly that it was broken and fell to the ground to try to stabilize it. Eventually the group got the car near enough to get me in, and drive 45 minutes to the hospital. My leg twisted inside the car to almost upside down. I wanted to pass out from the pain, but that sweet release never came. 
Upon arriving at the hospital I was greeted with two hours of waiting in the lobby, before any real treatment was administered. My leg was reset back in place and a half cast was applied. This is easier to take off and allows the leg to continue swelling. I was then transferred to another hospital in Edinburgh as the one I was originally taken to was primarily a burn hospital. 
I was then treated to waiting for five days to receive the surgery needed to help my leg heal properly. I got three screws and two plates in my leg to help hold the pieces together. At this point the President of the mission came and relieved me of duty and sent me home. I was then looked after and cared for my friends and family. My father is a surgeon and helped recover greatly. 
I broke my leg in October 2012 and desired to finish the two years I’d been assigned. I pursued my recovery heavily so that I was in top shape to go back to the mission as soon as possible. I was able to return in February 2013. 
This was one of the most difficult and trying experiences in my life. It still affects me to this day. My ankle still hurts from being overexerted. On the other hand, I was able to learn many great lessons from those months. I learned perseverance, hard work and dedication. I also learned that more often than not, a gut feeling can save you from a lot of situations. This situation and the opportunities it lead to helped shape who I am, and why I do what I do. 

“If you’re not with us, then you are against us,” A’lora spat at Seridan. “You have served our purposes well in the past, Undesirable, but you no longer fit our ideals. We have lost everything - our income, our fleet, even our armies. We will have our revenge. We will rip the Grand Master’s regime down one asset at a time. And if you are not by our side while doing that, then you must be stopped before you can do damage. Expect to be detained.”

“Consul, plea--” Seridan pleaded, but the Togruta was having none of it. Two armed men stepped inside, gripping the Miraluka by the shoulders.

The day had started off so much better. A strong, sharp tea in the mess hall, a hot cross bun that was toasted just right, and a few juicy articles on the HoloNet had guaranteed a good mood. But then he’d started talking to other people. First it was just a few grumpy and clipped comments and looks, which Seridan assumed were just a result of the dissonance of their moods - they were moody for some given reason, and that clashed with his chipper attitude. But it had got progressively worse, with his closer friends glaring at him, intense dislike ebbing from their very beings.

He’d gone to the sparring chamber that had been requisitioned by Strike-team Ooroo first, expecting a buzzing atmosphere, as the SenNet techs worked and analysed data. But instead, there were the members of Ooroo, silently scrolling through their feeds, and a couple of tense, worried techs laboriously wiring up the terminals.

“You,” Aaleeshah shouted at the closest tech. “You’re too loud, and I can hear you clipping wires. Also, my datapad has stopped getting a signal - have you gone and frakked this thing up?”

The tech nodded, and hurried over to fix it, as if a servant. Seridan, sensing that he was quite unwelcome in such a room, continued to sip his tea whilst moving off to find somewhere else.

As he passed the Summit chambers, he heard raised voices within. “I don’t care how we destroy the Iron Legion, just that we do it!” Turr roared at Turel.

Turel didn’t blink as he backhanded the blue-skinned Pantoran in response, “You are nothing but a thieving lowlife, you wimp! The Iron Legion will be dealt with, after we dismantle the economies and livelihoods of the Clan capital planets. And then we will hunt down every damn Sith and Sith-sympathisers that has opposed us. That must be done first before we can even hope of taking on the Council. Just think, you dolt!”

Turr bolted back unright, following through with a cruelly covert uppercut. Turel was knocked back, but flipped himself and grabbed Turr by the neck. Turr struggled in his grasp, but the Proconsul held him steady. Behind him, Xantros stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. “If I may, sir, I will, ahem, talk to this delinquent and teach him some manners, whilst trying some… social experiments at the same time.”

As Turr was escorted out by the Duros, Seridan stepped inside. The Human turned on his heel, eyes fixing on the Miraluka as if he were another target. “Ah, Ranger,” he started, an evil snarl in his tone. “I have heard that you were, gods forbid it, happy.”

“I was when I woke up, sir. Now, I’m not so sure. Everyone seems closed-off and not-at-all like themselves.”

“They have a reason. They recently lost everything they owned. Every trophy, every bounty they ever collected, gone. We have a plan, but you don’t know it yet. You have no reason to be happy.”

“Your plan? To go up against every single clan and win? With a meagre fleet and limited soldiers? We will be trodden upon. What happened to secrecy? To a plan where we protect those under our care, and bring them to safety? What happened to Jedi values?”

“You are becoming perilously close to misconduct, boy.”

Behind Seridan, a shadowed Togruta cut off Seridan’s only exit. “You were once our greatest follower. Now it seems, you are our greatest opposition. We have a… method of dealing with opposition. We learnt the trick from the Grand Master. And after all, if you’re not with us, you’re against us…”

Manually added by Seer Celahir Erinos Arconae

Manually added by Seer Celahir Erinos Arconae

Malice slowly opened her eyes, blinking the sleep from them. She sat up, rubbing the back of her head, and looking around.

This was not her room. These were not her clothes. These were not her ears. She ran her fingers over them, trying to keep her cool. Spotting a mirror on the opposite wall, she threw herself out of bed, searching her reflection in a slight panic. Her ears had a slight point to them now, and she was in some sort of nightgown. It was a very soft material, almost silk like. She cringed at being in such a ridiculous outfit before glancing around.

"You find a set of traveling clothes, a quarterstaff, leather armor, a scimitar, and a traveling pack." A voice echoed, sounding more like it was in her head than anything. Frowning slightly, she turned, indeed finding everything the voice had just described. She hadn't seen it there just a second ago, but perhaps her eyes were just playing tricks on her. she pulled the other clothing on quickly, wanting the nightgown off of her as fast as humanly possible.

"Don't you mean half humanly possible?" The voice sounded like it was very proud of whatever pun it had just made.

"What do you mean? What's going on? Who are you?" She asked out loud, frowning to herself.

"Cause..cause you're a half-elf. Get it?"

"She wouldn't get it, jokes aren't her thing." A second, female voice spoke up. She spoke the truth but Malice's question still hadn't been answered. She decided to ignore them for the time being, stepping outside of the door and out into the hallway. It seemed like she was in an inn of some sort, and when she found the set of downwards stairs, she followed them cautiously.

The bottom floor was some type of bar or pub and was empty minus one figure who sat eating some sort of meal at a table nearby. He turned to look at her as she entered the room and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Kalon?"

"Malice?" He stood from his seat at the table and walked over to her. "I don't know what's going on, or where we are. What happened to your ears?"

She clapped her hands over them immediately.

"Nothing, ok? I don't know! Have you seen anyone else that you know?"

"No one has come in except you. You and the bartender over there." He pointed to the bar, where the bartender had clearly heard their conversation and had begun to frantically scrub one spot of the bar over and over. Flashing each other a look, the two of them approached the man, leaning against the bar.

"You seem pretty nervous for someone just here to wash dishes. You know something about all this?" Malice asked, trying to play it both cool while still being intimidating.

"She's a cute little half-elf! She isn't intimidating!" The first voice said. Kalon glanced around like he heard it as well but didn't say anything.

"Roll for intimidation." It said again, and after a short time, the female voice sighed.

"7"

"Yeah, the man is nervous but isn't going to tell her anything."

"Leave it to Kalon, he can get the job done." A third, slightly accented voice said. "See? 18."

The man behind the bar watched as Kalon leaned in closer, his voice painted with a very dangerous expression.

"Listen, we're very confused, and very on edge, which doesn't usually turn out well for people like you."

"I don't know anything I swear!" The bartender insisted, sweating somewhat. "All I know is that if you finish this quest for me, I'll reward you for it."

Malice raised an eyebrow. A quest? What kind of nonsense was this man talking? On the other hand, perhaps he'd reward them with a way back to the station. She and Kalon exchanged a glance before nodding to him.

"Fine, what's the quest?" kalon asked. The man told them of a nearby cave, that was the home to a terrifying creature. It had been visiting the village by night and stealing the people's belongings. He had lost a very valuable artifact and needed it back immediately. With directions to the cave, he sent the pair of them off, still both as confused as they had been.

Once outside, the two of them quickly scanned their surroundings. It seemed like a standard village, not too poor, not too rich. The people were beginning to wake up and walked out of their homes, offering friendly waves to the two of them. Neither of them returned the smiles, instead looking around suspiciously.

"So you hear them too." Kalon said suddenly, though only loud enough for her to hear.

"The voices? Yeah, I have. I'm not sure where they're coming from. Does someone have us chipped?" Malice answered, running a hand through her hair. It was a seemingly normal action, though she was really doing a quick check to make sure she didn't have any devices on her head, allowing whoever the voices belonged to access to her thoughts.

"We could always ask them." Kalon suggested as they continued down the path that would lead them to their destination. With a nod from his Journeyman companion, he cleared his throat.

"Alright, no more games. Who are you, and what do you want?" He demanded.

"Seriously, Matt? Being the DM doesn't mean letting them break the fourth wall." The female voice spoke up, sighing. "This is weird. What are you supposed to say to the characters you've created?"

"Just answer and get it over with, won't you? Then we can continue on." The accented voice said, sounding slightly irritated himself.

"Hey, Kalon is all yours. YOU can deal with him."

"Fine." The accented voice cleared his throat as well. "I'm Jarak. I'm your creator, and we have a similar drinking habit."

Kalon's eyes narrowed, but the two continued walking, now out of the town and walking through open fields. Malice could tell he had more questions but decided to speak up herself.

"Come on, there's at least two more of you." She said, waiting for their response. The female voice sighed again.

"Fine, I'm Amber. Mal, I'm your creator and-"

"And she's not nearly as cool as you are, Mal." The voice who had identified himself as Jarak said. A muffled "ouch" followed quickly, indicating he'd received some sort of punch, and the female continued.

"and I feel weird talking to you. There, Matt, it's your turn."

"What? I don't have to do it, I'm just DMing."

"You said everyone, mate." Jarak noted.

"Fine. I'm Matt. You don't really know my character. His name is Abadeer."

"That cocky Togruta? We've seen him around." Kalon replied. "Now, what was that about being our creators?"

"We don't have time to explain this entire thing to them. Matt, let's keep going." Amber said impatiently.

"Fine fine. Let's see, it looks like they're just now approaching the cave." Matt announced. Kalon and Malice looked up and sure enough, the cave they'd been told to find was indeed coming into view.

"We'll just ignore them for now. Let's get this done and get out of here." Kalon murmured to her. She nodded, tightening her grip on her quarterstaff. The cave was smaller than they'd expected and seemed to only have a few connecting chambers within. They stopped in front of it, and Kalon pulled out a large sword.

"Can you use that?" Malice mused, smirking at him. Besides his lightsaber, she'd only really seen him use blasters. Neither of said weapons had been anywhere to be found that she'd noticed, and she couldn't help but think that they'd probably come in handy right about now.

Kalon swung the sword in front of him, connecting with a small tree and cutting it clean in half.

"I think I can handle myself." He said.

"Alright, I want to check for traps." Amber said.

"Roll perception."

"17"

"Malice notices a trip line at the entrance of the cave."

Looking down, the half-elf frowned slightly. There was something a lot less satisfying about being shown the trap instead of finding it herself. Kalon must have seen her reaction because he nudged her.

"Just play along with them. This is going to be a lot easier than we thought, and the sooner we get out, the sooner we can get back to the clan." He said. Malice nodded, seeing the truth in his words. They carefully stepped over the wire and into the cave. It was very dark, For Kalon, that was. Malice was surprised to find that the dark didn't seem any less visible than the outside had been, and blinked in confusion.

"Why can't Kalon see as well?" Jarak asked.

"Kalon isn't a half-elf. he's just a human. Half-elves can see 60 feet in the dark." Amber said happily. Malice grinned at Kalon, who couldn't see the grin quite yet, but he knew her well enough to know when she was getting full of herself and thumped the back of her head.

"I call a foul, he can't do that to her. He can't see where she is yet." Amber said suddenly, making both kalon and Malice flinch.

"You can't call a foul, he's already done it, you numpty."

"I'm allowing it." Matt decided.

"I hate you both."

Once they'd finally settled down, Kalon and Malice took a look around. Noticing a few torches on the wall, Malice dug through her bag until she found a small tinderbox. She quickly lit one of the torches and handed it to Kalon.

"There, now you're useful again."

"Watch it, Journeyman. I don't need the force to crush you."

They started down the only hallway connecting to the first room but paused when they heard Amber speak again.

"I want Mal to scout ahead. She's got double proficiency in stealth. She can give them an advantage."

"Fine, roll for stealth."

"Ha! 28."

They seemed to wait for Malice to start going on ahead before they continued talking.

"She finds one door up ahead. It's shut tightly, and she won't be able to open it by herself." Matt said.

"Ha! That's what you think. I'm rolling for strength."

There was a long moment of silence before Amber spoke up again.

"9"

"Yeah, better bring Kalon back with you."

Malice turned around, rolling her eyes at their argument, and got back to Kalon.

"There's a door up ahead. It's the only exit it seems. And I apparently can't open it." She told him. He nodded, seeming up for the challenge, and walked up to the door. Handing Malice his torch, he placed his hands firmly on the door and pushed.

"Jarak, roll strength."

"21"

"The door groans before falling backward, landing loudly on the ground. The room on the other side has lit torches on the walls, and a large table in the middle. Scattered around, you see many different, seemingly useless belongings. It looks like the hoard for whatever you've been sent to fight. On the table is the item the bartender described to you. Before you can reach it, however, the noise of the door has drawn some nasty looking cave dwellers to you. Roll initiative." Matt said quickly.

Malice and Kalon looked around as three reptilian looking creatures came slowly towards them.

"What are these?" Kalon hissed.

"I don't know, they're nothing I've ever seen before. "

"Psst, they're called Kobolds." Amber said quietly. They were very ugly looking, but were not as tall as Malice and especially not Kalon.

"My initiative is 16." Jarak said.

"Mine is 20"

"Alright, Amber. You go first."

"Cool, Malice is going to take out her short bow and take a shot at the nearest Kobold."

In all honestly, Malice had lost track of just what she was carrying in her bag. Reaching back, she felt the smooth finish of what he assumed was a short bow, and retrieved it. She found the small sling of arrows and pulled it over her shoulder, taking one out and aiming.

"Does a 15 hit?" Amber asked.

"Uh, yeah. Roll damage."

Malice released the arrow, sending it plunging into the Kobolds ribs. It took a few steps back, howling in pain.

"10 damage."

"It's pretty badly hurt, but it's got enough left in it to keep going. It's also his turn now. Jarak, does a 10 hit you?"

"As if."

"You are so full of sass today." Amber said under her breath.

"Alright, then it's your turn." Matt said, waiting for Jarak's response.

"Kalon is going to take his huge sword and go for the next closest Kobold. Does an 18 hit?"

"Yep, roll damage."

"8."

"You've chopped off one of his arms, but he tells the others in his language that it's just a flesh wound. He simply switched to holding his spear with his other hand. Now, does a 14 hit you, Jarak?"

"Uh, no it does not."

"Amber, does a 17 hit you?"

Amber sighed.

"Yes. Yes it does."

"Alright, Mal is going to take 6 damage. The Kobold she shot slashes her a few times with his dagger. But now it's her turn again.

"Then she's going to take out HER dagger, and stab him too. 13?"

"Hit."

"Alright, the damage is going to be 7."

Malice grinned, gripping the handle of the dagger tucked snuggly against her calf and plunged it into the creature's heart. He toppled over, his body spasming a few times before he went still.

"Jarak, does a 2 hit you?"

Jarak didn't answer.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Matt laughed. "You're up."

"Does a 12 hit?"

"Yes."

"Alright, 9 damage."

Kalon swung his sword back, letting it down right on the Kobold's shoulder. His other arm was chopped off, and before he could run away, Kalon had taken his head clean off of his body. Ir bounced to the ground, tongue slightly out of its mouth. Now there was only one Kobold left, and with its friends gone, it eyed the two of them in worry.

"Can they do a cool team attack?" Amber asked. "Come on, it's the only time we're using them as D&D characters. Please?"

"Fine."

"Alright! Let's have Kalon launch Mal off his sword and at the Kobold, and she can stab him right in the head."

Matt sighed.

"I need a strength check from Jarak and a very high acrobatics roll from Amber."

"Kalon's strength got a 20."

"And Malice's acrobatics got a 22! Is that high enough?"

"I suppose."

Malice grinned, holding her dagger tightly. She reached a hand out and felt Kalon take it, hauling her up and onto his sword, which was angled slightly to allow her to stand on it. She braced herself as he quickly pushed off, giving her enough momentum to do a nice flip in the air before plunging her dagger straight through the Kobold's skull. Its eyes were now frozen, wide in terror. Malice landed gracefully, stowing her dagger back into its case and walking over to retrieve her arrow from the chest of the first Kobold.

"Well done, you two. I'll distribute gold and experience after we're done, even though technically we'll never do this again." Matt announced. "Now, luckily for them, and because it's late and I want to go to bed, the fearsome creature isn't anywhere to be found. However, if they take the treasure they've come for, it'll upset the monster, and it'll unleash absolute terror on the village when it returns."

"But will we get to go home?" Malice demanded.

"Yes."

Without needing to consult in any way, Kalon picked up the treasure and stowed it in his bag.

"Come on, guys. You're just going to take it without any second thought?" Matt laughed.

"Are you kidding? This is Team Asshat we're talking about. Of course they don't care. They just want to get home." Jarak countered.

"He's got a point." Kalon agreed. "Also, what is an Asshat?"

"Nevermind it." Jarak's accented voice replied.

And with that, they're adventure was done. Kalon and Malice returned to the village with their found treasure, and the bartender kept his promise and sent them back home. They both woke up in their own beds, and neither had ever been so happy to be in their own rooms again.

Seng Karash, what a cesspool of filth. I was going to need decontaminated form the lice and fleas in my hair when I finally returned home…hell, probably before they ever let me on the shuttle to return home.

Oh you can watch the holovids about it and listen to the hype, but underneath? The belly of the monster is teeming with corruption. That is where I come in. My orders are simple, take down the crime boss and enough of his subordinates to prevent the species trafficking and prostitution from starting back up again.

While I am not much of a white knight, I do not agree with treating people, especially young children, like slaves for others pleasures just because they are poor. So that is why I got this ‘special’ mission. The crime lord I am going after is using younger humans and other species as sex slaves, as well as to move his drugs off world.

For over a 10 months I had been undercover, pretending to be a simple mine foreman working for the Dlarit Corporation. High enough on the food chain that I could have my own tiny shack and not have to work 16 hours a day. However, not so high that the executives might notice or question me. I was still amazed at the power the Brotherhood and even more so the Shroud has. Papers, a history, even minor plastic surgery had gotten me inserted with minimal grief to my posting.

I had already bought a couple of prostitutes to enjoy and had begun casually asking around for something more exotic and fresh. A slimeball Utai who’s name I cannot pronounce gave me a number to a service that provided fresh young pleasure. After setting up a meeting with one of their brokers, I finally got a sold lead on my primary target.

For months I monitored the operation and took their goods. I never had sex, never stepped over the line. I would cha with the young females, ask them to help me understand the set up of their job. Mostly I promised them I would do something about their plight. Soon I was receiving good information and I began to formulate my attack.

The head of the organization lived in a large house in the middle of the city, almost a bunker. I watched it for over a week, memorizing the guard’s routines and the schedule of the house workers and various lieutenants. They weren’t very strict in their guarding discipline and I was able to sneak in a couple of times to plant a listening device and place a small bomb in their main conference room. Sadly, many of the meetings conducted in that room were done by teleconference. I wanted there to be as many people around from the organization as possible, so I could kill them all in one fell swoop. Finally, I got lucky. There was going to be a big party.

On the evening of the party, going on for the son of the boss, everyone who was anyone was invited. I know I was suppose to keep collateral damage to a minimum, but this was going to be the best opportunity I was going to have to wipe this filth out. I had set up a nice blind in a building nearby and could watch the compound from it without being caught. That night security was a bit beefier, but nothing I could handle. Nothing was going on in the conference room for sometime, then suddenly the lights came on. All of the higher ups to include the leader himself filed in and began speaking about business.

I left my hide and snuck up to the outer wall of the compound. Readying myself for combat I meditated to clear my focus with the Force and tripped the switch for the bomb. The explosion blew out the windows of the room and I could hear people screaming in pain. I jumped over the wall and ran toward the gaping hole in the wall. I guess I had used a wee bit too much explosive because there was not a whole lot left to the conference room. I ran into the ruins and began searching for the faces I had memorized. One, two, thre--, okay not sure there was not much left to that one. The crime boss was plastered against the wall and groaning. I quickly slit his throat. Looking around I found only carnage and separated body parts. There was no way this organization would ever get up and running again.

I quickly faded into the mess of people moving about and then gradually dropped out of the crowd. Running to the warehouse where the girls were imprisoned I dispatched the lone guard watching the door. Busting open the door, I began freeing the girls. I sent them all to a local police station to tell their stories to the news services, the police and anyone that would listen.