Fiction Gallery

Yavin IV. A place infamous throughout history. Steeped in the Lore of the Galaxy. With the remnants of the first Death Star scattered in the orbit of the planet, the skies above glinted with parts of the massive space station revolving above the atmosphere, the occasional piece descending through the atmosphere in a halo of fire, shooting stars marking their death knoll.

Quo stood near the ruins of an ancient temple, once the home of the Rebellion fighter base. Overgrown with tendrils and boughs of massive trees, the jungle reclaiming its own as the years progressed. Hard to believe that nearly forty years ago this had been the site of one of the most influential battles in Galactic history.

“Readings?” He said to his squad leader, Captain Relg. The tall, human soldier was staring intently at the information screen on his portable scanner.

“Nothing out there as far as I can tell from these readings. Are we confident that this is where they were?” He turned to Quo sharply, aware suddenly that he had questioned the Sith’s judgement. His body tensed, expecting to have his wind pipe crushed, or some other part of his anatomy. A look from Quo sent a shiver down his spine. He instinctively averted his gaze, suddenly very interested in the information coming from the machine he held in his hands.

Quo strode forward, his mind doing its own scanning through the Force. There was something out there. He could feel it. Dark, cold, and used to hiding. He admired this thing, it was a hunter, a stealthy one. “This is the area, and there is something here, I have felt its presence.”

Following him, Relg double checked his scope, still nothing. “It’s not showing on my scanner Sir, not yet anyway. OK everyone, ready status.” The rest of the squad checked their weapons, a plethora of clicks and snaps as their weapons were cocked and readied. ”Move out, squad formation Victor two seven.”

Falling into position around the Zabrak and their commander, the circle of the five other troopers formed a chevron. “Check your arcs, and zero comms chatter,” Relg ordered.

Making their way through the dense forest every one of them was on high alert, even Quo who was fingering the pommel on his lightsaber. Some three clicks from their muster position they finally came in sight of the entrance to the towering edifice of the temple like structure. From their vantage point some eighty meters from the entrance Quo could see the devastation in the clearing outside. Several battle speeders were reduced to twisted masses of metal and plexiglass, bodies and body parts strewn around the plaza before the huge entrance doors.

“Still nothing, Sir,” Relg reported, ”but what the hell could have done that?”

“I don’t know, but our job is to find out, and that’s what we’ll do.” The Zabrak was scanning the plaza for any sign of movement through a set of viewers. There are no blast patterns he though to himself. The scene was one of utter destruction, as if a divine wind had swept across the surface. Everything down there was crushed, twisted, mangled, and deposited in piles of debris, as if a giant hand had simply crushed them into pulp, even the personnel unlucky enough to be in its path.

“Spread out,” Relg ordered his small group, “watch and shoot, watch and shoot”

“Let’s move down, without attracting any unwanted attention,” Quo said to the Captain, “we need to get closer. But stay in cover”

The closer they got the eerier it got. No birds sang. The whole area was blanketed in a dome of silence, the animal sounds coming from far in the distance. Quo and Relg both knew that there had once been a squadron of fifty men, with two battle tanks, and a handful of speeder bikes here. Nothing recognisable remained of the hardware. It looked as if it had been dropped from a great height, much akin to a aircraft accident. Parts of disassembled machine lay in a debris field that stretched away to the edge of the clearing. The team sat at the perimeter, their faces a mask of disbelief at the scene that confronted them.

Bodies had been shredded. There was not a single recognisable body amongst them. Bits of arms, legs, torsos, and assorted viscera were splattered around the plaza, even up the face of the walls and the magnetic doors that sealed the monolithic structure. They stayed concealed in the shrubbery that skirted the open square, every eye scanning the vision, keeping alert for any indication of whatever had caused all this destruction. Even in the dark the carnage was evident.

“Near the doors, Sir.” Relg gesticulated the object of his interest. About twenty feet from the doors was a pile, resembling an ancient cairn. This was no cairn of stone work however. It was a cairn of human heads, perfectly arranged, the rictus stare of each of them a mask of terror. Every one of them had had any hair that they may have had in life had been removed, they were a statue of grotesquery, both in proportion and subject.

Relg’s squad were nervous. Quo could not only feel their tension through his connection to the Force, but by the tightening of their grips on the weapons they were aiming across the expanse of the open courtyard. Small creaks gave away the soldiers response of pulling their weapons tighter into their shoulders. The atmosphere was almost palpable.

“Drexxy, Millet, move to cover, I want triangulated fire at the middle of that monstrosity. Tergo and Pell, arcs left and right of centre, thirty degrees. Burl, you’re with me.” Relg arranged his troops to cover as much of the area in front of them as possible with his limited team. Travelling light had its advantages at times, but he wished he had some heavy weapons to back them up right now. He scanned his team, ready to go at Quo’s orders. Relg and Burl were crouched, waiting to go on Quo’s orders.

Sensing no immediate threat Quo motioned the team forwards. Relg and Burl moved low and fast over the ground, taking cover behind the debris as they pepper potted towards the obelisk of heads, constantly scanning for attack.

Burl broke cover, only ten meters until he was on top of the dark column of his former comrades, close enough to be able to make out individuals that he knew. The smell was sweet, almost sickly, with the massive stone slabs of the courtyard both slick and sticky from the blood and other fluids that had covered it. From his vantage point Relg covered him. From the middle of the perverted altar came a mist, a dark smoke, rising, curling into the air about a meter above the ground. Within seconds the mist had thickened becoming an opaque shadow that struck out enveloping Burl totally as he approached. The black sheath covered him completely, bulging around the big soldier until he was totally obscured. As suddenly as it had developed it disappeared with a ‘Schlup’ sound, parts of the soldier being dissipated in every direction. Nothing remained of Burl but a splattering of meat ejected from where he had stood. His weapon clattered to the ground a couple of yards away from Relg, twisted and mangled beyond recognition. He never fired a round, nobody had. The dismay was palpable.

“Fall back Relg!” Quo shouted the order towards his Captain. Relg hesitated, glancing left and right, his body pulsing with adrenaline. “Now Relg!!”. The Captain turned, covering the ground towards Quo’s position. Three meters from the cover of the forest a column of smoke snaked out like a black arm, covering the distance in the blink of an eye. Encircling the Captain in a grip of darkness, he was eliminated from view before he could make it to the jungle.

Quo struck out with an outstretched arm, lightning erupting from his fingertips, the whole of his pride and anger flowing into the effort. Sparks danced across the couple of meters to the enveloping fog, illuminating it from the inside. Faintly he could make out Relg, being torn apart, piece by piece. There was no noise, and the oppression of the darkness on Quo’s mental capacity was almost overwhelming. He knew the Dark Side, revelled in it in fact, but this was different, elemental, primeval. It was like a raw animal feeling, feral and lacking in conscience, like a base emotion, but concentrated into a physical force.

It touched Quo’s consciousness, and Quo pushed back, probing for a weakness. His ministrations of the Force seemed to distract the entity, releasing it’s grip on Captain Relg, ejecting it from its sphere of control. Relg landed twenty meters away, with a sickening thud, his head hitting the plascrete surface, smashing like an egg as it impacted the unforgiving surface, his brains escaping in a mush of grey and red.

The entity probed back and Quo could feel its tendrils entering his brain, tasting this interesting thing that was before it. Quo emptied his mind, allowing it freedom to meld with his mind, allowing it access to his very core. He must know the source of this power. He had to find a way to destroy it, or harness it. Yes. Opening his mind fully to it he enveloped it with his own consciousness, feeling the dark power surging through him, like a dark electricity it charged through every synapse in his brain. He fizzed with the glory of it, accepting it as his own, becoming symbiotic with the newly found malevolence. He could feel the raw consciousness joining with his own, fuelling his lust for greatness within him.

Quo was shattered, but ecstatic. It felt like hours since the being had first made contact with him. From the outside there was no difference to behold. The mist had killed their captain, and merely brushed against the Zabrak Sith before dispersing on the breeze. The troopers were still en guarde, however the cloying atmosphere was gone. Even the humans could feel the change.

Pell was still next to him, covering the area, still shocked at Burl and the Captains deaths. “Is it gone, Sir? Did you get destroy it?” The young soldier looked shell shocked, staring at their leader.

“It’s gone from here. Regroup, and we’ll go home.” Quo turned and set off back to the rendezvous point, a twisted smile on his face.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/17p6Y6yEuYGXqkn9jh2kmrNjXKw0G2UH4FlXXPq07l84/edit?usp=sharing

The Eenzaam screamed down through the atmosphere, flames engulfing the shields as the friction of the air burned against the energy force protecting the vessel. Quo knew that he would have to get low and fast to avoid being detected on the parliamentary warning system. Zooming down towards one of the massive oceans that covered over half the planet he knew that there was little chance of being spotted this far from the capital, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The locals didn’t take kindly to outsiders, and he didn’t want to cause any further problems than he was facing already.

Skimming down towards the surface of the ocean the Tie Oppressor left vapour trails as she dived like a swallow chasing insects. Levelling out with a tortured groan she was a matter of feet from the waves as they broke. Quo reduced his speed, no need to announce his arrival any more than he had done already. At least coming in from this far out should stop him being sighted by any viewers, or more than a couple at most from any ships or boats in the area. None were showing up on his scanners, so either there were none, or they were very small.

His course would take him over the holiday resorts if he went directly to the capital, so he had planned his route to avoid the recreational areas around the coral reef islands, instead going a round about route, a couple of hundred kilometres west of them. His approach to the capital itself would be easily done. He’d set down approximately five kilometres away from the city, and cover the last part on foot. He was glad he only had Marcus to rescue, there wasn’t enough room to carry more than one passenger on the Eenzaam.

The communication console in his accommodation had bleeped into life late last night, interrupting his meditations. Annoyed, he had gone over to the machine intending to turn it off and resume, however the flashing yellow alert marker had put paid to that thought. An emergency? And encrypted? Sitting before the console he used the retinal scanner, and a drop of blood to verify that it was him, along with a voice recognition logarithm to further secure his identity the system automatically decrypted the message. Marcus Kiriyu was in trouble, he had been undercover for the clan, and his cover had been blown. Sending out an extraction request was a last resort for Marcus, usually he would handle it with military precision and get himself out. Quo sent an encrypted reply, letting Marcus know that he was on his way, set to repeat every three hours.

Now, outside the city Quo had to cover the ground quickly, and find Marcus. He knew his last position from the details of the message to within a half kilometre radius. Kiriyu had been near fun end of the city, close to the marina, the casinos, the seedy bars. Quo tried to imagine Marcus in one of those, but the thought of the six foot plus Epicanthix with his military bearing and smug look didn’t somehow fit. Moving swiftly Quo soon covered the ground towards the edge of the urban sprawl. Working his way down to the harbour area his eyes were scanning every building, every person, every boat as he made his way around the wealthy playboy’s playground. He wasn’t specifically looking for Marcus, although that would make life a lot easier, he was looking for signs. When Marcus sent the extraction call he should also have left a signpost, a clue as to what was happening, if he had followed standard operating procedure.

Then he spotted it. On edge of the pavement there was a series of three nicks in the plascrete. A normal passer by would have missed it, even an experienced operative would have struggled to distinguish those marks from any other set of marks made by a heavy object being dragged across the slabs. These marks weren’t parallel though, gouge marks generally are. Looking up as he continued walking Quo took in the building opposite in a single fleeting glance. So that was where he had been. Whether he was still there was debatable, probably not thought Quo..... however...... there were two of the rooms in that building that had their windows unrefracted against the sunlight. Turning as if he was looking back along the path he had just taken. One of them had a light on, the other lay in darkness. It would be too easy to be spotted from inside the lit room. The dark one would give cover, or there was simply nobody home.

Making his way across the street he passed beneath an awning protecting the foot traffic from the worst of the elements, and protecting him from the view from the darkened room. Using the crowds that were there revelling in the facilities, drinking and eating the finest of foods on the café fronts. Quo rounded the corner of the target building and with a burst of acceleration disappeared around the back, moving faster than any watching eye could keep up with., cloaking himself with the Force to gain entry. Moving slowly and deliberately he made his way to the service elevator, and keyed in the fourth floor, mentally mapping the layout of the building as he went. He had to concentrate, not only to maintain the cloak, but to avoid bumping into any of the workers that were carrying out their day to day jobs.

Approaching the front corridor of the building, making no sound as he went, he held his back to the central wall. Peeking around the corner Quo took it all in in a couple of seconds. Two security force personnel stood either side of the door. So there had been something here. Quo moved from the cover of the corner, approaching the guards with stealth. The door between them was shut, so they were either guarding something, or imprisoning something. Quo had to make a decision. Stretching out with his senses he probed the space behind the door. He could feel something , but couldn’t make out who or what it was. Quo reached out to the minds of the guards, fogging their minds, slowing their reflexes and causing bewildering confusion. Using this as his cue he struck twice, rendering both of them unconscious. Moving quickly he caught the falling forms in an attempt to prevent whoever was behind the door from being made aware of his presence. Laying them down on the floor Quo approached the door, ear gently skimming the surface as he sought for any sound from within. Silence. Quo looked at the door trying the handle with his left hand. It opened easily, a gentle push opening it fully. Two slugs hit the far wall. Quo rolled into the darkness, another shot grazing his shoulder, passing through the material of his tunic. As his feet found the ground beneath him Quo flipped forwards, arcing high, towards the window, a twist landing him four centimetres away from it, the shooter framed in the light from the corridor.

Watching the shadow Quo saw him roll his body to the left, attempting to train his weapon on the Dark Jedi to make a killing shot. The room illuminated as the ‘Snap, hiss, whum’ of the ignition was followed by a shallow arc, taking the shooter in the mid part of his arm, a crescent of blood lit by the crimson glow of the blade. Leaping for the door Quo activated the lock, and set the opacity of the windows to their highest setting before lighting the glow globe.

“And that is what you call stealth is it?” Marcus chided. Quo approached him, removing the binders from his wrists and ankles that were securing him to the bolted down workstation.

“It worked didn’t it?” Quo quipped, “and you call yourself an under cover operative do you?”

“I was double crossed, the First Order had got here before me, and they knew I was coming. We have to get back and let them know. We can’t even be sure that our encryption is secure any more. Locke will have some tough decisions to make” Picking up his gear, he checked the room. Reaching down he twisted the head of the groaning gun man on the floor, a ‘crack , crunch’ stopped the groaning. “They’ll be needing a new head of security,” said Marcus before heading for the door, Quo following closely behind.

“Don’t you think I should lead?” Quo asked, “seeing as how only I know where I parked?” A slight lean of Kiriyu’s head assented.

Within the hour they were stowing their gear into the Eenzaam, it would be a tight squeeze, but at least they would be on their way home. Quo retraced his entry route, no point in attracting anyone’s attention to their departure. The severity of the climb giving Marcus a chance to comment upon Quo’s piloting skills as well, likening the whole experience to a journey through a Rankor’s alimentary tract. Neither of them commented on the First Order, the security breech, or the possibility of there being a traitor. That could wait until they were safely back in the Orion system. That’s when the real discomfort would begin.

“Alright, open the holocron and we'll see what our forebears left for us.” The Zabrak paced behind the Krath sorcerer in his black armor, boots scuffing a path in the dust of the ancient temple. After a long year of searching, the treasure of Sadik Deris was finally about to be his. Legends held that whoever opened it was granted tremendous power, the usual spiel one might hear. However, Deris was rumored to have discovered a way to affect spacetime itself, manipulating its essence through the Force. Such knowledge would be instrumental in securing the Knight’s position within Plagueis.

The sorcerer nodded and placed her hands over the artifact. Crinkling her fingers in concentration she fed the Force through it, small waves of energy pulsating from it in response. She paused to make sure she had not set off some sort of defense mechanism, but after nothing eviscerated either of them for a second she continued. Kul’tak watched in bemused interest. He could feel the power emanating from the device. It was repressing yet alleviating all at the same time.

He almost went into a defensive stance when the sorcerer cursed under her breath.

“What's wrong, Rusa?” She bent her Togrutan head and gave a small laugh.

“I did it. I think I actually unlocked the thing. Ha ha! That knight promotion is in the bag!”

The Zabrak grinned from behind her as the holocron cracked and light spilled from its seams. Indeed, she had unlocked its secrets. He reached a hand into his cloak.

“Well done…my apprentice.” His crimson saber burst to life and swiftly relieved the girl of her head. “Unfortunately, someone from Odan Ur has no place here. Plagueis spares no room for the weak.” He lifted a foot and pushed the decapitated cadaver to the ground.

He focused again on the holocron, which was beginning to hum and shake. Fluorescent light poured forth more violently than before. It began to rumble and rattle incessantly, making Kul think it was getting ready to explode. He ducked behind a crumbling onyx pillar and watched as the device burst open in a blinding flash. Air began to sluice into the opening, creating a vortex of sharp wind. It made a loud sucking noise, before exploding outward again. This time, however, something flew out.

Kul blinked to regain his sight and peered around the pillar half expecting to see the Sith himself, most likely enraged at being summoned from his eternal prison. If the being before him was indeed Sadik, he did not exactly cut an impressive figure. Short brown hair covered an oval shaped face, circling his cheeks to form a thick, scraggly beard. He stood approximately 1.7 meters, and wore some sort of blue coarse fabric on his legs, while adorning a durasteel colored jacket. He was most likely human; he bore no signs of being otherwise.

The boy (he appeared to be not much older than Kul’tak) stood and brushed himself off, wide eyes taking in the scene around him. He reached a hand up and twisted the skin on his arm. When he didn't wake up he muttered to himself: “Ohhhhh crap, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto.” His language was Basic, but there was a sort of twang to it. It reminded him of the tribal accents on Iridonia. He’d never heard of a “Kansas” before. The boy looked harmless enough; his presence in the Force barely registered. Kul stepped out from behind the pillar and approached, still holding his saber hilt, the blade withdrawn.

The boy immediately focused his eyes on the Knight, suddenly emanating a wave of surprise and fear. There was also a twinge of recognition. Kul couldn't understand why, he'd definitely never seen this human before. It began to fade a little as curiosity replaced the initial terror. The boy cocked his head slightly and rearranged the black-rimmed glasses on his face.

“Afternoon. You wouldn't perchance be a Zabrak, would you?” Kul lifted an eyebrow.

“Of course I'm a Zabrak. You mean to tell me you've never seen one of my race?”

The boy gave a soft laugh. “You might could say that. Not in person, anyway. You seem sort of familiar, though.” His eyes widened again as a thought passed through his mind. “For the love of...you're name wouldn't happen to be Kul’tak, would it?” Again the Knight was thrown off by this stranger.

“How do you know my name, human? Was Sadik aware of my coming? Or perhaps you were sent in his place to prevent me from finding his secrets? I will have them.” He took a step forward at the last question and pulled the boy into the air above him.

“Whoa, whoa, chill bruh. Who's Sadik? I don't even know where I am much less some random person you just mentioned. Though, I suppose I do know where I am in a sense. And I definitely know you, Drol.” Kul set him down. He just wasn't entirely sure how to react to this.

“And how do you know me?”

There was a brief pause as the boy mustered the courage to reveal his knowledge. The Knight was an imposing figure in his armor. “Because Kul, I created you. Technically. There's some biological stuff I didn't help with, the whole ‘when a man loves a woman’ spiel. But yeah, there ya go.”

Kul blinked as he processed this new information. His temple throbbed as his anger ebbed and flowed in spurts. Was he seriously supposed to believe this? His creator?! He said as much.

“Well let me prove it then. We’ve never met before, we're agreed on that?” Kul nodded. “Ok. Your master is Taranae Rhode, redhead extraordinaire. You practice Jar’kai but only wield one saber because you're not an Equite yet. You have a pet Vornskr named Shar’kala. Aaaand something no one else would know: your tattoos signify the loss of your family and the pain you try to hide as you struggle with your loyalties to their memory and your loyalty to Plagueis.” He tapped a finger at each one to outline them as a list.

Kul felt his mouth drop slowly as he gaped dumbstruck at this boy who claimed to be his creator. Everything he had said was true, and certainly not just anyone would know this information. But how was this possible? The sorcery of Sadik, perhaps? One puzzle revealed another.

“I don't know how you came to know this information, human, but you've peaked my curiosity.” Kul placed his saber back within the folds of his cloak.

“You aint the only one confused right now, bud. I just left a world in which there's not even space travel per say and the Force is a fictional story element.”

Kul and the boy blinked at each other in perplexed confusion. Kul spoke first.

“Say I agree to believe this. What now?”

“An excellent question, my friend. Or son? Does being your creator make me your father in a sense?” The boy stopped when he received a deadly look. “Friend it is. Anyway, you wouldn't happen to have a black hole nearby, would you? That's the way some people get back in movies.”

A grin passed over the Zabrak’s face. “No, but I'd be happy to find one and toss you in if you want.” Something about his tone made it understood he'd enjoy that outcome. The boy sighed.

“Nah forget that. I suppose if I can't get back I may have to make the best of being here.” He turned and picked up the holocron. “Better bring this just in case.” Kul immediately snatched it from him and stuffed it in his cloak beside his saber.

“I'll be the one to carry this. If what you say is true, and I'm not saying I believe it just yet, perhaps you could be of some use. It appears I'm not getting what I originally wanted from the holocron, in any case. Come, I'll bring you back with me to the Anchorage." He paused and tilted his head. “I don't suppose you know what that is already?”

“Large metal station recaptured by Plagueis to use as a headquarters. Currently still possesses some sorts of dark energy and possibly beings. I might have heard of it.”

The two began walking to the shuttle awaiting Kul'tak to return to. The boy stayed a step behind, cautiously trying to stay aware of his surroundings. Upon boarding, he was tackled as a small black blur catapulted their way. A quadruped with short fur and wicked teeth pinned him down with a warning growl daring him to make a move. Kul laid a reassuring hand upon the Vornskr.

“It's ok, girl. He's with us. For now, anyway.” She backed away and sat, watching the newcomer curiously. The boy rubbed his backside and winced.

“So this is a Vornskr. She is indeed a beautiful specimen. Hello, Shar’kala.” He offered a hand for her to sniff. She refused at first, but curiosity eventually won out and she approached slowly. She huffed around him to his great amusement. Deciding he was indeed worthy to remain alive a bit longer, she padded over to her master and laid at his feet. The Zabrak took a seat in the pilot’s chair, spinning it to face his new acquaintance.

“If Shar’kala thinks you're ok, then that will satisfy me for now. You will remain with me, however. Until I decide if you're worth keeping around.”

The boy looked up from the Vornskr, who he had sidled up to and preceded to pet. “Oh I can be of great use to you. In fact, I believe I can give you a way to become great within Plagueis.” The boy stood slightly, putting him eye to eye with the Sith. “How would you like to know your enemy’s greatest weaknesses? Or better yet, your Clan’s weaknesses? You would be able to achieve the revenge you crave for your family.” Kul's eyebrows rose at that. His family had perished at the hands of a Jedi after being found by a Plagueis inquisitor. He'd never forgiven either side for that slaughter. “I can help you achieve all of this.”

“How?”

The boy tapped the side of his head. “It's all in here. Remember when I said I created you? Well the same place I did that has what you might call datacrons of information on everyone within the Brotherhood. Including their strengths and weaknesses. So you might say I could theoretically assassinate everyone in the Brotherhood, as long as I had the power to do it. That's where you'd come in. So how bout it? Wanna rule the world?”

Kul'tak pursed his lips and rubbed his face. The boy could be lying, but he'd sensed no deceit in him. If that was the case, his proposal was indeed a bold one. Taking on his own superiors? Normally the Knight would never have even considered it, but with the secret to their defeat so readily available he could not help but dwell on the possibilities this could open up for him. Striking a deathblow to his clan went against everything his father had taught him, but it was they who sanctioned his father’s death to begin with.

The boy knew his decision as soon as his tattooed hands tensed and curled around the armrests of his chair. “Yes. Tell me everything.”

Kel Rasha. The Clan playground. Home for the wealthy, with facilities that would boggle the mind of the ordinary folk of the Orion System. Quo wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in the golden sands, or the playthings of the rich and famous that adorned the city by the harbour.

Twilight had fallen, and he was up slope of the fuel depot looking down onto the facility from his lofty viewpoint, scanning the facility through his viewers. There was plenty of security, but that wasn’t the foremost of his concerns. Where was this Security expert that the Black Glove had employed to guard the concern.

“On station, my Master” he spoke quietly into the comm. Voice only for this op. The light of a hologram would shine out like a lighthouse in the dark.

“Any idea who and what this Merc is?” Tasha’Vel’s voice broke through, barely audible, but just enough for Quo to hear.

“None as of yet, my Master, but I shall keep surveillance up until the mystery is solved”

“Report when you do,” a burst of static marked the end of the conversation.

Raising his viewers he scanned the perimeter fence of the facility. Working his way around the edge, his gaze finally alighted on a small building close to the water front, the only one with a visible light coming from it. That must be the guard room thought Quo increasing the magnification on the rectangular, nondescript building. This may prove to be a long night, but Quo was focussed as ever, and stood his post, concentrating solely on his target.

He watched several patrols come an go over the next three hours, mentally keeping a tally of all their comings and goings. He now knew the length of time each patrol would be circulating, when the changeovers would take place. He knew the numbers of each patrol, their patrol areas, the weapons that they carried, and the places where a couple of the patrols consumed their death-sticks whilst out there. However there had been no revelation as to the mysterious mercenary the Black Glove had employed........ up until now. The door to the guard room swung open, a silhouette outlined in the light from within. Quo zeroed in on the figure, zooming in another click, now the maximum his viewers were able to attain.

The outline was unmistakeable. Mandalorian. The armour gave the identification its positivity. He couldn’t make out the modifications from this distance, or the colours of the individual concerned, but it definitely gave him a starting point. They were all tough, and every one of them packed a few surprises within their weapons manifestos. Keying the comm he signalled Tasha’Vel.

“It’s a Mandalorian, my Master, identification not possible at this time”

“Proceed as planned, no changes are required” Another burst of static ended the consultation process.

Moving down towards the perimeter fence Quo stayed low, and fluid as a shadow as he traversed the hillside. Closing on the fence line he knew he had two or three minutes before the next patrol would make their way along this part of the perimeter. With a leap that took him well clear of the twelve foot wall, and the inner wire fence at some three meters tall Quo landed with a soft thud, barely audible against the background noise of the factory workings. Springing forwards as soon as his weight had settled on the balls of his feet he rolled into shadow, hardly leaving a trace of his landing. He knew this was all about timing, and this mission would have to be perfect to the second.

Moving beneath the gigantic pipework that seemed to feed over every foot of the plant, into the deep shadows and cover that he would need to succeed. He had watched as the Mandolorian had made its way towards the centre of the expansive fuel works, towards a large tower of which he had no idea of its purpose. Silently he covered the ground under the cover of the pipework, ensuring that he wasn’t seen by any of the patrols, their position superimposed on the map he had in his head. This would be the most difficult part for timing, he had two patrols crossing over the open area between him and the tower entrance, one patrol of two, and one of three, personnel. Waiting like a coiled cobra, a throwing knife in each hand, he slowed his breathing, and merged with the shadow surrounding him. Right on cue the first patrol appeared from behind one of the large fuel tanks, the three of them chatting in muted tones, relaxed and complacent in their familiarity. The other appeared from the other side of the tower, approaching directly towards Quo’s position. Quo’s red/gold eyes focussed on the patrol of two, narrowing as the hefted the two blades in their direction. Like a pair of guided missiles they buried themselves in the foreheads of the patrol men, they were dead before they hit the ground.

Grounding himself within the Force Quo used the effect of the shock register on the second patrol before he made his way towards second patrol. Shielding himself within the warmth of the Dark Side Quo was all but invisible to them as he approached, steadily and deliberately, his vibroblade in his left hand, his saber in his right. He knew that when he ignited his blade he would become visible to them, so he waited until he could almost feel their breathe next to his face. The patrol men were still standing, looking bemused at the site where their comrades lay dead. The didn’t realise that they themselves were under attack until the red blade of the lightsaber ignited in their midst, cutting down two of them, as the vibroblade in a reverse grip finished the last one. The whole assault had taken less than five seconds.

Quo got to the door of the tower. Closed. A gentle push found that it was not locked, obviously they had confidence in their security. Pushing it fully open Quo stayed back, waiting for a laser bolt to come pinging out of the opening. Silence. With a graceful roll of his wrist, fingers splayed open, the helmet of one of the guards flew across to him, into his waiting hand. Making as much noise as he could he rolled the helmet inside the doorway, a double ‘Fatoom’ as laser blasts impacted the helmet, ricocheting the helmet back out of the door.

Quo replaced the vibroblade in its scabbard, reaching out for one of the eight throwing knives he had left in his belt. The blasts had briefly illuminated the inside of the doorway, giving Quo a general layout of the entranceway to the tower. The stairway curved upwards along the left, winding anticlockwise up the tower. Towards the right hand side was a weapons locker, and a desk. Quo rolled inside heading to the area beneath the desk. The wall and floor around him erupted in a wall of dust, fire, and shrapnel as a rain of fire cascaded down on his position. Quo remained calm, using his connection with the Force to erect a barrier around him, deflecting the blaster shots in a flurry of rebounds that ripped through the fabric of the bottom floor. Through the debris saturating the air of the entrance way Quo had pinpointed the origin of the onslaught.

His left arm whipped the throwing knife upwards with a speed and accuracy that made the Mandalorian retreat behind an electrical supply node, the blade thudding into the wall near the left of its firing position. Ducking back to avoid the projectile gave Quo the chance to move. A single vault took him upwards some twenty feet, just a couple of meters below his assailant.

Being closer, and in a lit environment Quo could finally get a look at his foe. Clad in Mandalorian armour, and carrying an assault rifle. Coloured in black with red highlights this was not a Mandalorian that Quo was familiar with. Quo’s lightsaber ignited with a ‘snap, hiss, whum’, deflecting the new barrage of fire which was zeroing in on his position. Closing the gap to the mercenary with a burst of superhuman speed Quo unleashed a flurry of attacks onto his opponent. Saber and Vibroblade dancing a cyclonic blur towards the Mandalorian, deluging his quarry with a multitude of separate attacks.

An electronic explosion of sparks cascaded from the rifle as Quo’s blade sliced through it, severing the foresight and barrel, sending it tumbling down to the floor below. A burst of flame exhausted behind the mercenary as his booster rocket ignited, propelling the Mandalorian upwards, showering Quo in a bath of smoke and flame. Instinctively he leapt across the stair well chasm, up to the next ledge, apparently pre-empting the blast by a split second. The stair where the mercenary had stood but moments before was now a smouldering, melted mass of metal. Quo looked upwards. His foe was now on the top floor, peering over the edge, left arm extended.. A volley of mini missiles propelled their way down towards his position. A burst of speed took Quo upwards as the missiles struck the stairs and wall of the tower, blowing it outwards, a gaping hole where the Dark Jedi Knight had been standing a heartbeat before.

Quo rounded the final steps in one bound, the balls of his feet gripping the steel through his boots, halting his flight forwards, and pivoting him to the right. Firing from the hip with a blaster, the arc of fire was designed to intercept the young Zabrak’s flight. Too late the Mandalorian realised the error of his though pattern as Quo moved left of his firing position. With a swift and balanced swing of his Lightsaber Quo dissected the mercenary through the lower ribs. Falling in two halves his opponent was slain. Quo reached down and removed the helmet. Female. He didn’t know of any Mandalorian females that were working as mercenaries in this quadrant. He would have to investigate.

Leaping down the centre of the tower he landed on the balls of his feet, the helmet still grasped in his right hand. He made his way out through the door. He attached the helmet to his belt, replacing it with six transponders, three in each hand. Merging again with the Force he reinstated his cloak of invisibility. Dragging the bodies into the tower he closed the door, shorting the locking mechanism with his lightsaber. Who needed locksmiths?

There were still patrols around the site, but once these transponders were in position the site would be incinerated. Making his was around the site like a phantom, eliciting no interest from the patrols he placed all six in the designated positions, double checking each one to ensure the accuracy. With another superhuman leap he forded the wall in a similar manner to his entrance, covering the open ground quickly and quietly, wraith like, returning to his viewing point to watch the display.

“All is in readiness my Master” Quo keyed into the communicator.

“Double checked?” Tasha’Vel’s voice questioned.

“Yes, my Master” Quo replied

From above a plethora of fiery exhausts arrowed down from above, high in the atmosphere. Targeted on to the transponders they descended unerringly, bringing the cleansing fire that would, in the next few seconds, envelope the whole area in dancing heat. The first missile impacted, rupturing a fuel silo, spreading an incendiary flood over the site, beginning it’s own river of combustion as it went. One by one the explosions spread with each missile impact. Quo watched from above, a smile on his lips, his eyes reflecting the flames as he watched.

The rain poured down in the dark alleyway that our triumphant hero was passed out in. It took a flash of lightning and a earth shaking clap of thunder to awaken the slumbering Sith.

As Kano sat up he stretched and let out a loud yawn. Raindrops softly hit the man's face as he looked up at the sky.

“What the frak am in doing in an alley?”

As Kano climbed to his feet a rat ran across the alley, splashing through a large puddle.

“To, writer dude. I asked you a question. What the hell am I doing in an alley? How did I get here? The reader will wanna know.”

[You were drunk and you passed out. Not much more to it. Now can I get back to writing this fiction?]

“Oh, yeah. Didn't mean to inconvenience you. Douchebag.”

Kano, now shooting a bird into the sky walked down the alley thinking out loud.

“How do you think out loud? Isn't that just talking?”

[Dude, stop interrupting. Let's just get this fiction going so that we can get something shiny.]

“Shiny? I'm down. Proceed mystic voice in my head.”

The Warrior turned out of the alley and onto the main street. Thoughts of riches bounced through the former Mandalorians head.

“Where can a Sith bounty hunter get come credits around here?”

At that moment, almost as if by divine planning, a piece of paper smacked into Kano’s face. He pulled the paper back and crumbled it up.

[Read the paper.]

“You can't tell me what to do!”

Kano uncrumpled the paper and read it.

“How the hell did you do that? Who trained you in Jedi mind tricks?”

[Shut up and finish reading the paper.]

Kano finished reading over the paper and was relieved to find that it was a wanted poster for a local drunk. According to the paper the man had borrowed a large sum of money from a local gangster and when he couldn't pay him back a hit was put out on him.

“What are the chances that this kinda info would be placed in a piece of paper and then just tossed out for anyone to find? It is a good thing that an idiot isn't writing my life story.”

Luckily the Warrior knew just where to find this local drunk. He turned around and went right back down the same alley he had just awoken in. He walked up to a door that looked as if someone had vomited against it and he proceeded to pound on the door as hard as he could.

After a few hard knocks the door opened and a head poked out from inside. “You again? You are banned after that crap you last night with the Rancor tooth and high explosives.”

Kano looked up away from the guy at the door.

“Are you still not going to explain the night before? That sounds fun and I really wanna know where I got a Rancor tooth in the first place.”

[No! Now pay attention.]

“You suck.”

Kano turned back towards the guy at the door to see a puzzled look on his face.

“Sorry, I was thinking out loud. I just need to know if Fez is in there, I owe him money and need to pay him back before heading to the Outer Rim.”

The Sith reached down inside himself and with a slight mental nudge from the Force the man nodded and stepped back into the building.

“Hey writer guy, I have a question.”

[What now?]

“Do I really gotta kill this guy? He just wanted to party a little. I mean wouldn't you take out a loan you couldn't pay back to tongue mop liquors off the sexiest women in this galaxy?”

[You leave my personal life out of this and stick to the story. We are almost done so you know what, just wing it.]

At that moment the door opened up and a large man came walking out. The smell of alcohol seeped out of every pour on the man's body and filled the air. The man looked Kano over for a second before opening his mouth. “Are you the chakaar that is looking for me?”

Kano leaned real close to the man and whispered to him.

“There is a voice in my head telling me to kill you but it is okay, he is a moron.”

Kano winked at the guy just before the man swung a quick right jab towards the Warriors face. The fist connected with an invisible barrier as Kano drew out his lightsaber.

The blade sprang to life with a brilliant blue glow and with a single motion Kano drove the blade upwards and through the bounty. The man was split from crotch to hair and fell into two separate parts.

“I wonder if I get paid double for that?”

[Sure, just tell the gangster that if he won't pay double you will do the same to him.]

“Really? I can do that?”

[No, the fiction is over. You probably annoyed the reader so much we won't even get a prize.]

“Ah sh…”

The End

“Lier!”

Stepping Down and Integration

In 38 ABY, relations between Maelous and House Quaestor Sanguinius Entar had deteriorated greatly. After much consideration Maelous decided that two years of summit service was more than enough, and stepped down as House Marka Ragnos’ Aedile, to pursue his own endeavors. He quickly left Tarthos behind and traveled to Sepros.

Mealous spent the next few months researching in the libraries in the Temple of Sorrow. Anything that he could find of any use to further his power and legacy he devoured with the veracity only a Sith could understand. His research focused primarily on gaining a deeper understanding of Force Alchemy, relics, and Dark Side sites. He studied what he could of the temples left behind by the ancient Sith Lords, the ideas of creating a Holocron, the different varieties of crystals used in a lightsaber.

Having lost his legs in the recent conflict with the Dominion, he also began research into cybernetics. He looked into experimental technology as well as imbuing them with Force power through the use of alchemy. The research has been inconclusive though he still looks for the most reliable and advantageous design.

Maelous eventually returned to Tarthos. Using House and Clan resources he requisitioned an out of use research facility in Kar Alabrek. The Sith had large amounts of equipment brought in as well any materials that would be need to continue his studies. Researched progressed slowly due continued interruptions from military and science officials checking in on the Battlemaster. After almost killing a low ranking officer in a fit of rage after one of these interruptions Maelous decided that he needed a place of his own.

The Site

After some additional research and long nights of meditation in the Force Maelous was led to Terra Do Gelo. He was able to locate a cave system within the mountains of the frozen wasteland with a large enough opening to land a small transport vessel. Maelous spent several standard weeks exploring the cave system and using his holopad to map out the system. He noticed that there were some small “flares” of Force energy that he indicated the site could be turned into something magnificent.

During his exploration he began to feel a pull toward Jade Sadow through the Force Bond. Maelous felt that she was in extreme danger and became aware of her physical pain. He immediately left the site and returned to his transport vessel. Using the Force he began to direct the pilot and set out on a mission to rescue the Cathar. Return to Study

After rescuing Jade, Maelous returned to Sepros to leave her with a medical staff that could properly tend her wounds. After promising to return for her before he set out for his expedition he began to do more in depth research into the temples on Korriban, Thule, Dromund Kaas, as well as other sites. During his research he received a message from the former Grand Master of the Brotherhood requesting his presence in Kar Alabrek. Not wanting to miss the great opportunity he sent a message informing Jade of his departure and left immediately for Tarthos.

Mactire stood in the reception hall looking at all the faces of everyone entering the building. He studied them in anticipation of the big day for two of his comrades in arms. Tasha, and Bentre. This was the day before their wedding and it couldn’t have been any better of a day. It was a simple day of peace, for once in Naga Sadows history, this day was going well. The human leaned against the wall looking up at the ceiling watching the lights flicker as people danced on the floor laughing and having fun. Atra was singing a random song and butchering it, with his usual don’t give a care attitude.

“Mac? Wow you came. Didn’t think you would.” A blue Twi’lek said appearing right in front of him.

There was a holorecorder in her hand and she was smiling as her eyes sparkled and lit up with joy at seeing all her friends together under one roof not trying to kill each other. She’s wearing a silver dress, and looks like one of the Twi’lek goddess form ancient legends.

“You look amazing Tasha. How’s Bentre doing?” I say turning my eyes and looking back into the crowd.

“He’s good. I was actually wondering if you have any words of wisdom for us in the future since I know somethings of your past.” She says with a slight sorrow in her voice.

“Yeah I do. Be happy, be well. Treat each other with respect and always talk things out, don’t hold things in. It never works out when you try to figure things out yourself in a marriage. There are two of you together for a reason.” I say slowly drifting off into the past.

“O.K. Thanks Mac, enjoy the party and see you tomorrow at the ceremony.” She says smiling running off to interview others for their opinions.

I slowly lean off the wall and start to walk down the hallway, away from the reception area. Clearing my head in these matters always helps me focus on things that truly matter to me. Also I really don’t like crowds much but I never will tell anyone I work with that. The mission always comes first. Always has and always will.

I stop and look up at the vast sky and wonder what the real meaning behind everything is. The stars twinkle slightly as the laughter and music becomes louder and more sounds of joy dance down the station.

“Everyone is enjoying the party it seems.” I mutter to myself.

I slowly turn and start to head back towards everyone. The walls with their shadows slowly seem to move against my movements. As if they are teaming with a life of their own. I slowly move my hand to my Armory Saber and keep walking slowly staying on high alert. The hairs on the back of my neck slowly start to stand up as a creature leaps out of the shadows. I leap back and dodge their attack. I hear a faint laugh coming from behind a mask. I growl low looking at my opponent.

“Who in the Sith Lords names are you?” I say in a low demanding voice.

“Oh Mactire you are so easy to rile up.” A female voice says as the mask comes off.

Qyreia stands there laughing. Her red skin looks like a larenks eye. Her eyes are the color of cold steel which contrast her black hair. I shake my head, only a Zeltron would do this at a wedding. Well only Qyreia would.

“Thanks for the reminder of why I’m always on guard.” I mutter and focus for a minute.

She looks at me quizingly and then falls to the floor as if an unseen force has just tripped her. Her hands slowly go for her blaster and I shake my head looking at her.

“Don’t you did deserve that and you know it.” I say walking away back towards the crowd

When I enter Bentre is standing in the center of the room holding Tasha in his arms dancing slowly with each other. I sigh and smile lightly in the knowledge that these two will be happy together. Qyreia walks in muttering to herself and walks past me and heads towards Atra laughing as he is still singing poorly and everyone is still having fun.

This is a party for now I think but tomorrow old wounds will reopen and then we will all be back ware we started. Oh well for now it is a blessing.

It had only been five minutes, or so it seemed to him. that he had been enlisted into the ranks of the Inquisitorius, and already there were ructions. Every time he thought he had a grasp on the Brotherhood it sent him another curved ball. Sat at his new desk he attempted to take in all the details that the message in front of him had spelled out. A traitor within the ranks. Not only that, he had been tasked to find out the who, why, when and where. He still couldn’t quite grasp why he had been selected for this mission, or by whom as it was unsigned, but he felt that it had something to do with Tasha’Vel, his Master, and her husband, Bentre Stahoes.

Quo rose from the desk, and destroyed the glassfilm that the message had been delivered on, grinding it to dust with the heel of his prosthetic hand. It left a gouge on the polished surface, a reminder of his first day on the job. Any traitor would have to have access to the files of the Inquisitorius, and the communications system presumably, and this was where he would start. As he strode away he exuded the look of a man on their way to somewhere for a definate reason, not a man who was taking his first steps in his first investigation. No sign of hesitation was evident.

Down in the bowels of the Supreme Hall of The Inquistiorius Quo found the archives, with plenty of consoles for his investigations of the Inquisitorius’ systems. He wasn’t the greatest slicer, but he could get into the system without having to log on and leave a trace. Going into the sub-systems he was amazed at the amount of communications traffic that was there. There had to be a way to narrow the search. He accessed the logs for encrypted communications, two thousand one hundred and eighty seven. Ok, within the last month, seventeen. Scanning down the list there were only three that came from the same originator, but it couldn’t be, Tasha’Vel Versea. He wouldn’t believe that his own Master was a traitor, there had to be another answer. Selecting the the three messages from her he tried to make out who the messages were sent to, but that was encrypted as well. Searching through the message he attempted to decrypt the message, or at least the recipient.

Saving copies of the messages to his own storage device he would try to break the code on his own console back at the Halls of Residence.

Quo searched again, this time for any files that had been modified or deleted from the system, and again found three that had been recently deleted, all of them within the last eight days, and two of them connected to his own dossier. What the fleg was going on here? Why would anybody be interested in his file? He was a low ranking member of the Society, he didn’t have any access to anything important, he was a complete novice in the Inquisitorius.

Copying the files to the same storage device Quo rose and took his leave of the Archive. Heading away from the home of the secret society, he headed back to his own accomodations, needing the solitude to make an assessment of the circumstantial evidence that he had gathered. Accessing his personal console he loaded the encrypted messages. He selected a program from the drop down list, and attempted to infiltrate the encryption. He had encrypted messages from Tasha’Vel on his communications window, he could use a couple of them to give his program a grasp on her encryption methods. He inputted the messages, and set the program onto the task of cracking it.

With that in hand Quo turned his attentions to the files that had been modified. There was nothing interesting to anyone in the files, only Quo’s dossier, an assessment of his training, and the notifications of his commendations. Quo’s face was contorted in both frustration and confusion. Nothing in here had the slightest bit of import to the Brotherhood, and the files contained no secrets that anyone outside it would be vaguely interested in. What was going on here?

Quo let the computer carry out its computations, managing to grab a couple of hours sleep before he was awoken by an insistant beeping. He made his way over to his console. The program had done it’s work, to a fashion. It had managed to decrypt the addresses of the recipients, and they read like a list of the great and powerful of the Brotherhood. The Master at Arms, the Consul of Clan Naga Sadow, the Proconsul, Bentre Stahoes, Tasha’Vel’s husband, along with a few other names that were well known to all Dark Jedi. Quo couldn’t believe that all these people were traitors. Another beep from the console told him that another part of the messages had been decrypted.

Reading from the screen before him, ”...and it will take place at the Sadow Palace on Sepros, . He must be in attendance before the action can be taken....................satisfied until the task is completed”, and it was signed by his Master. It sounded like an assassination attempt, but on who?

Quo rose, his intention to go to his ship, the Eenzaam, in order to face his Master, and put an end to this one way or another. A knock at the door. Approaching and opening it he was faced by his Master. Without warning four strikes to his pressure points were all that she needed to render him temporarily immobile, a hoodwink applied to his head. So this was how it ended he thought. How far away from the truth he was, and how he had been played by those who cared for him came as a shock. He had thought that he was alone, insignificant, however the extract from Tasha’Vel’s journal, gave the full story. Quo was finally in a place to call home, with people who cared and respected him Journal entry - Tasha’Vel Versea 13/02 38ABY

The time had finally come and Tasha had arranged the events. Sneaking away down the many corridors and hallways, she had arrived to her apprentice's room. Knocking on the door, she waited till it opened. With the Force guiding her motions, her palms and elbows quickly struck the vital points on the figure blocking the doorway, rendering him momentarily stunned as she quickly blindfolded him, and began to guide him down the halls.

"Do not speak and just follow me," she whispered. Even though her apprentice was gifted in the Force, he stumbled behind her, unsure of himself.

As he reached out with his senses, all he heard were his master's footsteps and his own. Everything else seemed to come through a thick veil, hiding anything else from his senses. As they entered what felt like a giant hall, a voice boomed through the air.

"On your knees Sith!" The command came from a voice he couldn’t quite place. Struggling slightly, he was quickly forced to his knees by his Master as she spoke in a stern tone. "Quo-Wing-Tzun you stand before your elders. Bentre Stahoes, Marcus Kiriyu, Darkblade, and myself.”

“You have proven yourself an ally as well as a worthy adversary here in Clan Naga Sadow. For your efforts, hard work and dedication, we would like to present to you the title Dark Jedi Knight.” Igniting her lightsaber, she maneuvered the crimson blade near Quo’s left ear, and then to his right.

“Rise, my apprentice," she said as she took off the blindfold. “Rise as a Knight of Sadow.” As Quo rose up he could see Marcus, Bentre, Darkblade and Tasha standing in front of him, all wearing ceremonial robes with their faces covered. Around him the other Clansmen were gathered, who erupted in gleeful cheering."Well done, former apprentice, and welcome to the ranks of Knighthood!"

So this was the big cover up, no treachory, no secrets to damage the core of the Order, simply a ruse to get a young initiate to the Society to a place and time to celebrate his promotion to Knighthood. Quo wasn’t one for revelling, or growing attached to people, but the people gathered around him made it very hard not to. The only secrets that were of import were the ones he kept to himself as he looked around the room.

(Tasha’Vel’s journal entry kindly supplied by Tasha’Vel Versea)

So here we are, promoted to the dizzying heights of Dark Jedi Knight, with a totally awesome Master, and looking super fly in black, and what do we get to do? We get to right royally kick butt for the Brotherhood. I know what you are thinking. How come he got to be so awesomely brilliant, whilst I’m just a dweeb with a computer writing a story that may win me fictitious awards and medals? Simple answer, because I deserve to be awesome. Not everybody can be this good looking wearing yellow and black tattoos on their melons, and carry off the horned sex god look, but I make it look easy. But enough about me...... who am I kidding, there can never be enough about me, it’s my favourite subject.

OK, so here’s the gen. My Master, Tasha’Vel Versea, who by the way is hot, is in the hospital with blood clots. I mean that’s pretty serious poodoo right there, but not surprising considering that her heart has to contend with seeing me every day. It must be a tremendous strain on her ticker there, and blood can only move so fast before it starts colliding with itself. I’m not a doctor, but I guess that’s how it all works. Anyhoo, she’s laid up in bed, and not in a good way, so I have to go visit and try and lift her spirits somehow.

So I’m walking up to the hospital, minding my own business when her husband is there. “Hey, Quo, you going up to see her?” he shouts across the pathway.

“Yeah, can’t have her wasting away up there, thinking that world has stopped turning because she’s not in control”

I knew that had done the trick, Bentre even managed a half smile “Ain’t that the truth. C’mon, let’s show willing,” turning away towards the entrance, “I’ll let you tell her though. I wonder if there’s any food up there?” He shot a glance up the glass frontage of the building.

I followed his glance.... what the?..... You know when you see something but your brain won’t register it initially, but eventually it filters through.... a bit like when you first hear you Mum and Dad going at it like a pair of rabbits.... that initial disbelief, then the realisation, then flight into action, such as hiding your head under your pillow with your walkman on full.. well that happens right now to me. There was something crawling across the glass, so high up you could hardly see it, but it was there nonetheless. It was almost indistinguishable from the background, but it was there... and that’s definitely not something that has been said about me.

“What’s that up there?” I asked.

Ben looked up towards where I was indicating “No idea, but I’m sure as hell gonna find out” Drawing his blaster he knelt, steadying his aim, taking a breath in then releasing half of it before squeezing the trigger gently. I heard the ‘Fatoom’ as the crimson bolt arrowed its way upwards towards his target, impacting the torso of the figure above. We couldn’t hear it but the window exploded into thousands of pieces, and the figure began a slow fall from the front of the building. I watched the figure twisting and turning through the air, adopting the aerodynamic properties of a breeze block, as its speed approached terminal velocity, before it smashed, like a free fall washing machine into the pavement below.

“Did the Diplomatic Corps accept your application then?” I quipped, Ben shot me a withering look. We walked over to the mass of tangled wreckage. It looked like the Gods of all Droids had been having a clear out of the workshop, and all the parts left over had been shoved overboard to land outside the hospital. Whatever type of droid it was when it was up on high it was now nothing more than used parts. Do you get scrap value on slightly used droids? I’m sure we could make a few credits from it if we could find all the parts, or we could make the worlds most difficult construction puzzle.

“Assassin droid, and looking at the head this one was relatively new. Somebody went to a lot of trouble for this, but we don’t know who the target was. Maybe we can slice into the memory and find out who it was after, and who sent it.......” Yadda, yadda, yadda.... Ben really did love the sound of his own voice, I couldn’t help it, I just zoned out. A ‘thwack’ round the head meant that Ben had finished before I could regain consciousness, oh well.

“Let’s go see Tasha’Vel, and let the investigation team try and get to the bottom of this” Stahoes turned once more towards the entrance, I guess that I should follow. I don’t like hospitals, but needs must at times, and Tasha’Vel needed saving from Ben’s recounting of the events outside. Sometimes an Apprentice’s work is never done!

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar Arconae

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar Arconae

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar Arconae

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar Arconae

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar Arconae

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar Arconae

Kano sat in his cabin listening to the crackling of the fireplace and the howls of various creatures off in the distance. It was moments like this that the Warrior felt most relaxed. That is why he hated these moments. Relaxation was the enemy. As he began to long for something to break this cycle of boredom a scream rang out from the basement. Kano grinned as he got to his feet and walked to the stairs that led down into the dingy basement.

An even louder scream echoed up the stairwell as Kano stepped off the last step and into the crudely made torture chamber. Kano had a faint hint of giddiness in his voice as he spoke into the darkness, “I thought you would never wake up. I’m glad I was wrong. Now we can have some more fun.”

Kano flicked the lights on in the basement to reveal a naked man hanging upside down from chains. The man let out another scream as Kano walked over to a table covered in bladed weapons and tools.

“Oh, shut it. At Least this time you will see what is causing you the pain.”

With that the Sith picked up a knife with a 7 inch blade. He walked over to the now whimpering man and slowly slid the blades backside along the man's stomach. The cold metal caused the man to squirm as he tried to move away from the inevitable pain he was about to endure.

Kano grinned at the feeble attempt and turned the blade over and slid the razor sharp edge along the man's leg. He started at the heel with the blade just scratching the surface of the skin and pressed harder and harder as the blade made its way up the man's leg and to his thigh. The man pulled, and shaked, and screamed as the knife dug deeper and deeper into his flesh until Kano could feel metal scraping against bone.

A buzzer began to sound with a flashing red light and Kano pulled the blade from the man's leg. He kneeled down, grabbed the man by his hair, then pulled his face up so that he could look into the man's crying eyes.

“Now it is sleepy time again.”

Kano reached back and punched the man in the face. The blow knocked the man unconscious.

The Warrior tossed the blade onto the table and ran up the stairs. As he made his way through the door at the top of the stairs he could hear the familiar voice of his brother at the door.

“Kano, wake up. It is the middle of the afternoon, get your ass outta bed.”

Kano quickly got to the door and flung it open to reveal Fremoc standing there.

“About gorram time. What the hell were you doing? Do you have a woman in here? You getting your freak on?”

Kano grinned, “You could say something like that.”

“Oh, well I didn't mean to interrupt.” said the older brother.

“If you don't mind I would like to get back in there and continue digging in and if things go right I will have a squirter redecoration the room.”

Fremoc cringed as he turned to walk away, “Way too much info bro.”

Kano closed the door and started to walk back towards the basement door. He stopped for a second and listened. Silence filled the air. In the distance a howl echoed through the forest. It was at times like this that Kano felt most relaxed.