Fiction Gallery

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Full Frontal Assault.

Headquarters of the 1st Armoured Regiment Twenty Miles South of the Temple of Fire Sepros

The temporary headquarters was an impressive building, well equipped and able to be dropped, assembled, and if necessary dissembled with an efficiency that was practised time and time again on drops on multiple worlds and in multiple environments. This time it was the Orian Warhosts home and capital planet, not some foreign system light years away. This was no drill however. What satellite imagery they had that the assaulting forces over the planet had no destroyed indicated that the enemy had landed and was advancing through the dense jungle at the best possible speed. With the other regiments holding the other side of the planet or other locations in the system the 1st Armoured was all that stood between them and the heart of the clan. In his quarters Colonel Sarto 'Eloth' Kousir stood over the display watching the lights flicker on and off as the estimated pace of the enemy made its way inevitably closer. Based on the assessment of the opposing force, his four battalions would have a hard job holding them for the required time until the alleged reinforcements from Taldryan would arrive, if there was any truth in that.

He turned as the door slid open and his adjutant entered and snapped a salute. Colonel sir, you have a visitor.” “Who?” Eloth demanded. “A colonel from intelligence sir.” The Chiss face darkened. What did intel want now? So far they had not exactly covered themselves with glory, this invasion having slipped right past them. “Show him in Lieutenant.” He was surprised when a plain looking young man appeared, not dressed as an officer but wearing a suit of plain black arc trooper armour and carrying his helmet under one arm. He also had a grenade launcher strapped to his back and a sword hanging from his belt. “Who are you?” The man gave a quick salute. “I am Colonel Senth, of Warhost Intelligence.” Eloth studied him. “I have heard of you. The clone. You were the one doing those propaganda broadcasts last year during that business at Arx.” The clone officer did not react to the slight slur. “Indeed.” “So what are you doing in my headquarters Colonel. Can I assume you have good news for us on our reinforcements.” “Not so far,” Senth replied, “though we are assured they are en route. In the time being I have come to make a formal request for assistance.” The Chiss colonel wrinkled his brow. He had an invading army hours away and they had a request? “What request exactly?” “You have a special missions company attached to your 3rd Battalion Colonel. I am here to requisition it.” “For what purpose?” “That is classified Colonel.” the clone replied. “Then the answer is no, Colonel.” Eloth replied. “You are no doubt aware of my situation. I am not releasing one single trooper without a good reason.” Senth met his gaze. “I have the authority to request assistance from any serving officer Colonel.” Eloth shrugged. “The important phrase in that sentence is 'request'. If you have a problem you can take it up with General Cargas. I will answer later assuming we survive the next few days.” The clone studied him. “Very well. Is this room secure.” “As secure as anywhere,” the Chiss replied. “Very well.”

Senth stood next Eloth by the display map. He pointed to their current position, and then his finger trailed down. “According to our latest intelligence there are four regiments of enemy forces approaching from this direction, three infantry and one armoured. Their estimated arrival is in five hours at their current pace, and they have ample air support. Our current assessment is your regiment can hold them for a maximum of eight hours without your own air support.” Colonel Eloth nodded somberly. “That is my assessment as well.” “We have calculated their route, as no doubt have you,” the clone continued, “their is no practicable landing site near here, so they will have to traverse along this path, and pass through this ravine ten miles to the south at this point.” “So what is your plan?” the Chiss asked. “With your company I can plant explosives along the ravine shelf, and bring it down. If we time it right we may be able to do it when they are passing through, or at least block them entering it. We estimate if we can bring enough of the shelf down it will block it sufficiently to delay them for some considerable time, possibly enough for reinforcements to support your position.”

Colonel Eloth studied the map thoughtfully. “It is a serious risk Colonel,” he replied, “it is possible their scouts are already in the area. If they are then you could be leading my company into an ambush.” “I am aware of that,” Senth admitted, “but if we do not proceed Idoubt you will be able to hold them anywhere long enough for to be reinforced, and the temple will fall by tomorrow.” Eloth looked back at the map, then at the clone officer again. “Who are you exactly Colonel? I have heard stories about the clone in intel, especially after that assault on Inos 13. You apparently have no official command status, and your rank exists only on the rosters. I am not trusting you with my girls and boys until I know more about you.” Senth nodded. “Very well. My official designation is Delta 19, and I was one thirty two advanced commandos created and trained by Admiral Simonetti under the Dlarit Special Operations Group. I was given a rank in the Warhost following its creation but informally I serve the Overlord in whatever capacity he sees fit.” The Chiss raised an eyebrow. “A DAC? I thought you boys were all dead or insane.” “As far as I know I am the last, yes.” “Very well,” Eloth replied, “I was D:SOG. Before that I fought on Antei as a lieutenant in Nineteen, ironically against the same people we're hoping are coming to support us now.” Senth shrugged. “I do not understand politics but we are assured they are on our side this time.” “We can hope,” Eloth replied. “I will order Captain Enis to prepare her company and meet you in the compound in ten minutes. Good luck Colonel.”

The transports moved quickly over the forest, with bikes escorting them either side and in the front. Senth sat in the lead one with Captain Enis. She had turned out to be a grizzed veteran, though brought into the Warhost as a mercenary rather than having come from the former Dlarit military like himself and Eloth. She seemed content to trust the intelligence officer though and appeared to prefer action instead of waiting around. Senth was looking at his datapad, the map indicating their present position and the target location. The captain was talking to the transport's pilot on her communicator. Then she raised her head. “ETA ten minutes Colonel.” He nodded. “We will need to split into two groups,” he replied, “and take either side of the ravine.” “We have the target locations sir,” she replied calmly, “our engineers know what they're doing.” They waited until the transport came to a stop, landing smoothly on the ravine floor and the hatches at the side lowered down, as the company disembarked and quickly formed up, while scouts made their way quickly to survey the surrounding area on their bikes. As Senth jumped down to join her, Captain Enis began to quickly give orders. “1st Platoon will secure this location. Second Platoon take the east side of the ravine, 3rd platoon the west. We do not know the current location of the enemy so keep them peeled and be careful.”

As the 1st Platoon moved out around the transports and made a defensive position, Senth followed the 2nd up the ravine wall as they expertly climbed up the steep surface, planting pins in the rock securing the ropes making it easier for those following. Senth was pleased with their effficency and progress, though to the clone commando this was easy going. He was content to follow though as the lieutenant and sergeant lead them to the top. The six demolitions specialists with them made slightly slower progress but they too were fit and trained and did well. Quicker than he expected the platoon reached the top. Senth could make out 3rd Platoon had done likewise and were now moving dispersing swiftly along the opposite shelf. The 2nd Platoons Sergeant, a gruff older NCO was barking orders at his troopers who were moving quickly south in fire teams, each escorting a specialist who remained in the middle. Sharpshooters moved out to pick defensive locations and screen the dense forest for signs of enemy forces.

Senth watched them alongside the lieutenant and the senior NCO as each specialist took drilling lasers from their backpacks and began to work on the rock below them. He felt a bit redundant being here, the troopers clearly knew their business and worked well as a unit. To even be considered for one of the special missions companies the Warhost or the House forces had you had to be the best in your speciality and have a high level of ability in others. They were proud men, women and others who had a healthy respect for each other and also a rivalry to outperform. He turned and looked into the dense jungle. The scouts had reported nothing, and somewhere beyond them the bikers were out screening them. It was entirely possible the enemy's own scouts had not reached this location yet, however it was also possible they had. “Any news sergeant?” the young lieutenant asked. “Aye sir,” the NCO replied, “they're making good progress but the rock is denser than they anticipated. Its taking some cutting.” “They must reach the correct depth,” Senth added, “we don't want to just blow up this area we need to bring the sides down.” “They know that sir,” the sergeant replied calmly. Senth continued to watch, occasionally looking over across the ravine where the 3rd Platoon were also working. He had confidence in the troops he had brought, but this was still a risk. His estimation of the enemy force had not been over estimated. Without a delay they would overrun the 1st Armoured and take the heart of the Clan before the rest of the Warhost and their Taldryan allies could do anything to help. This had to succeed.

The sergeant suddenly put his hand to his helmet, adjusting the frequency, and listened. “Sirs, the scouts have detected enemy in the jungle to the east, moving this way.” The lieutenant looked quickly at the NCO. “How many and how far.” “They can't tell sir with the visibility out there,” the sergeant replied, “they don't want to get too close and alert them. Maybe about a company size and a few minutes away. A second force is moving on the west side.” “They must just be scouts,” Senth replied, “they could not possibly have brought a large force up here in this time.” He heard a voice in your communicator. “This is Captain Enis, have you heard the report?” “We have,” Senth confirmed, “we have to defend this position. If we withdraw this entire thing becomes redundant.” “Good luck then. We will make sure you have safe exit when you need it.” The sergeant glanced at the lieutenant then began to speak to the platoon. “Alright everyone, enemies coming in from the jungle. Assigned troopers continue to shield the engineers, the rest of you take defensive positions.” As the troopers began to move the lieutenant glanced at Senth. “You may want to retire to a safer location sir.” Senth looked at him, and then reached up and then reached back and pulled his Relby V-10 from his back, checking it was loaded and then gripped it. “I will be fine lieutenant, we need every one we have.” He headed for the trees.

Senth crouched on a tree branch high above the jungle floor. He trusted the platoon to perform in the coordinated way they were trained for and had no wish to interfere. He would merely add support where needed. He gripped his weapon and let his gaze drift over the floor below, watching as the blips of moving objects. He could see the 2nd Platoon were taking cover behind whatever they could find, with the sharpshooters further out and some in higher places like the tree he perched on. The specialists would be hard at work laser drilling down to the charge depth he had agreed with them, and some of the toughest troopers crouched round them, ready to defend despite their lack of cover. The clone admired their determination. His gaze drifted to the east where the moving blips of the enemy could be seen, some densely packed but around them more spread out scouts. They were approaching firing range. Did they know the Sadow troops were here, or were they just securing the area before their army moved through? It was impossible to say. Somewhere to the west the other platoon would be facing the same quandary.

He listened patiently to the quiet orders on the scrambled channel from the lieutenant, as he watched the enemy draw closer. They at a louder order the Sadows began to fire into the trees, from behind their cover or from their perch. The enemy forces scattered for their own cover, returning fire, and below the air scorched with the sound of blasters and shouts. Senth waited, looking down at the dense floor through the trees. Then he saw a shot from ahead, a rocket flaming down from the trees to explode amongst the defenders. Senth quickly followed the line and saw an enemy trooper crouched in a tree a fifty metres ahead. The trooper was preparing for another shot and Senth brought his rifle around and targeted smoothly from years of practice, and sent a shot from the launchers blaster. The rocket trooper did not even see the shot coming, and as he fell the rocket scorched upwards to explode amongst the trees. Senth nodded in satisfaction then sought out another target.

From below he heard the sound of an engine and followed the sound. From the trees to the south a Gian speeder left the trees, manoeuvring round to fire on the defenders on the ridge. Senth watched it moving forward, the pilot and gunner controlling the vehicle and weapons in practised efficiency. Behind them an officer sat watching the display. Senth touched a control on his back and his jetpack ignited, carrying him smoothly through the trees. He fumbled for a high explosive round into the grenade launcher and as he soared closer to the speeder he fired a round in it's path. As the explosion burst from the ground in front of it the speeder was knocked up and rolled, the officer jumping clear as it hit the ground upside down. With a nod of satisfaction the clone fired again, hitting the speeders underbelly and the vehicle exploded. Senth landed on another tree branch, and as the officer got to his or her feet Senth sighted his blaster and fired, pitching them to the ground.

The Sadow defenders were making headway now, the attackers numbers winnowing and it did seem they had only been an exploratory force. Then he saw movement to the North, and a small group of enemy troopers emerged, surrounding a figure in a black robe. The apparent force user stood behind a rock as his defenders shot at anyone coming near, as the enemy used seemed to concentrate. Senth had seen this enough in his fellow Sadowans to recognise the meditation, and below the attackers began to move forward with more purpose, timing their shots better at the defenders, including those remaining guards of the specialists. Senth admitted an uncharacteristic curse and fired his jetpack once more. He sped across the open area towards the little enemy group until he was nearly overhead . He fired a grenade which exploded near the group, but its energy was dissipated by a sudden barrier. Senth considered a second shot to test the force user, but changed his mind. Reaching to his belt he produced a sonic grenade, and then tossed it at the force user and their defenders.

As the deafening and disorientating blast rocked the four troopers, Senth landed amongst them, the Sith sword he had borrowed from the Dakhan Quaestor in his hand. This was not his preferred method of confrontation but he could manage when necessary. As the disorientated troopers struggled to recover the sword slashed amongst them, hacking down one, and then two in quick succession. As a third prepared to fire directly at the clone with his rifle, a lucky or helpful shot from nearby hit him in the back. Senth ignored him and as the fourth aimed at him he thrust, knocking the weapon aside and driving the sword into the chest of the trooper, the alchemically sharpened blade passing through the armour and finding the heart. Then Senth felt a surge of pain and disorientation as flashes of lightning hit him, arcing around his armour. By training alone he leapt aside, leaving its path and landing, gripping his saber. He saw the force user looking at him, her face angry beneath her hood as she pointed her left hand at him, the right gripping a red saber.

“You will die!” she shouted, as she unleashed another blast. Senth fired the jetpack and soared above the lightning, landing directly in front of her, thrusting his sword at her. She was quick, bringing her saber around to knock it aside, and then with steely determination in her blue eyes she slashed at him. Senth moved back, angling his body away from her, blocking the strike. She had been startlingly quick, and it was all he could do to block. He continued to back off dodging or parrying her strikes as she advanced on him. Around him her forces continued to fight, but were loosing ground again against the Sadow forces with the meditation gone. Senth was oblivious to this, focusing on the force user. He was incredibly proficient with a sword, he had practised for years and against most non force users he was lethal. He had also sparred against some of the best saberists in the Clan, and could usually hold his own and had learnt each time, sometimes after a very painful lesson. His opponent however had the force and that advantage was testing him, her movements quick and her defences almost seeming to anticipate his attacks before he had even made them. Additionally his armour was slowly him despite years of working in it.

Inevitably one of her strikes hit home, slicing into the left of his armour and searing along his side. He gritted his teeth as he saw a flash of triumph in her blue eyes. With a two handed blow she hacked at him and he desperately parried, and he felt his hand shake as the lightsaber and the Sith sword met. She snarled and brought her saber back for another blow, and he hacked at her. Then he realised his mistake. She twisted her grip saber flicked down scoring along his right arm, cutting into the flesh and his fingers opened in spasm dropping the Sith sword. He dropped, reaching for it with his left and then looked up at her, as she stood over him in triumph. She raised her blade for the fatal blow, and quickly Senth's left hand moved instinctively, not for the Sith sword but for the little cylinder on his belt. Thrusting his arm up he pressed the little button and the almost invisible blade burst forth, and he drove it up and into her chest, putting all his remaining strength into that one strike. She gasped in pain and her face blanched, before she dropped her own raised weapon and collapsed backwards, landing on the forest floor.

Senth slowly pushed himself up with his one good arm and looked around. The few remaining attackers were backing off into the tree cover as the Warhost forces fired at them. Then he heard a voice over his communicator. “This is Captain Enis. All charges are planted. Withdraw to my location in good order.” Senth reached down and retreived his sword from near the force users corpse, and slid it into his belt. Then drawing his blaster pistol in his left hand he backed off towards the edge of the ridge, as Warhost troopers formed around him. As the began to scramble back down, he fired a burst from his backpack and allowed himself to travel down smoothly. As he landed Captain Enis approached him, her eyes passing over his torn side and arm. “Looks like you've been in the wars Colonel. Get in a transport and I'll have a medic look at you.” “Thank you Captain.” A brief smile touched her lips. “Well done with that force user, the sergeant of the 2nd says they are lucky you were along. Now hurry the enemy column is getting nearer. We're bugging out.”

Senth watched from a safe position on a rocky hilltop. His arm and side were bandaged and he was wearing a simple flight suit he had found in the transport, but he had refused to return to the 1st Armoured Regiments's HQ with most of the company, and now waited with Captain Enis and a small group of troopers and specialists. He watched the ravine through borrowed quadnoculars as the first of the column entered it, heavy APCs moved forward, accompanied by AT-STs whose turrets rotated back and forth along the ravines top, and behind them he could make out 2-M hover tanks and more APCs. The column was an impressive sight, four regiments of death moving to knock aside Colonel Eloth's defenders and take and hold the heart of Sepros and Orian. Or so they thought. Senth and the captain watched as the column rumbled across the ravine floor, and above they could make out bikers and troops on the top guarding them where Senth and the 2nd and 3rd Platoons had been earlier. Captain Enis was watching as the column reached the half way mark, and began to climb to the easier terrain beyond. “Now Colonel?” Senth nodded. “Now.” She looked at her specialists. “Light them up.”

The scouts on top of the ravine walls heard it first, as the ground shook beneath them as the line of high explosive charges buried in either side detonated, knocking them from their feet. Then a tremendous tearing noise of rock sounded in the ravine, as cracks began to appear in the sides. The enemy forces in the ravine looked up in horror as small rocks began to roll down towards them, and then larger ones as the walls continued to crack. Above as the scouts ran for safety the ground beneath them split, falling off from the wall and sending them tumbling down with it. The APCs and walkers tried to stop and reverse as larger rocks and then entire pieces of the wall hit them, but the ravine was a bottleneck as pieces of rock larger than the vehicles themselves crashed down into the ravine, causing explosions as the hit and crushed the walkers squashing them down, or hit the APCs driving them to the floor to be buried under immense chunks of the scenery. As the ravine wall continued to collapse section by section, the vehicles closer to the rear of the ravine began to back off quickly for safety, before snarling up with the confused ones behind still moving forward. A few of the unlucky ones were hit by boulders that were thrown further than most of the collapse.

Senth watched in surprise alongside the Captain, who was cheering with her troopers. When he had planned this he had not expected it to be so devastating. The noise was still deafening as more of the ravine walls collapsed, shook down by the vibrations of the earlier devastation. Finally there was a deathly silence, and around him the troopers were silent. The sound of a few smaller rocks falling was the only sound, as an immense dust cloud rose over the ravine. All that could be seen were building sized rocks filling the now wider crevice, and the odd fire of partially buried vehicles. In the distance he could still hear the remainder of the column trying to reverse and turn in the narrow path leading to it. “Well done Colonel,” Captain Enis commented, “it will take them a day to clear that at best. They might get some smaller speeders over it but nothing big. With luck when our reinforcements arrive them might catch them there still.” If they were coming, Senth thought to himself. He would not know what was going on with the rest of the battle for Orian until he got back to the HQ, or even then. Still he had done what they had set out to do. Captain Enis was climbing onto a bike. “Behind me Colonel you're not riding anywhere with that arm. When we get back to HQ I'll stand you a drink.” He turned and nodded. “I do not drink but I appreciate the assistance. Your company performed admirably, no one could of asked for more.” He climbed behind her as the bikes began the journey back to the 1st Armoured Regiment's Headquarters and the rest of the war.

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Enjoying The Festivities

An Unpleasant Settlement Tatooine The Outer Rim

CaptainCerys Dagen sipped her cold drink and listened to the noise around her. After several days cooped up on the Lancer Patrol Craft she served as pilot of it was good to feel the fresh air on her face, even if it came with a dose of sand. The Miraluka watched the glowing figures of citizens and visitors passing her through her force sight. She could hear her companion making disapproving noises from nearby over the sounds of conversation and engines nearby. “He is late,” Malisane commented beneath his hood. “Yes so it seems Warlord,” she replied, not having much else to say. “I will be pleased when we can return to Aeotheran,” he said coldly, “for a planet that apparently features so prominently in Galactic history, it is a cess pit. I thought Tarthos was unpleasant until I came here.” Cerys shrugged. “I did suggest an alternate site but our contact refused.” She was about to add more when she felt a vibration at her side and reached down, taking her datapad from her belt. Her figures touched the screen and she concentrated as she read the message. She sighed. “I am afraid I have bad news sir,” she told him, “our contact has been delayed. He anticipates he will be here tomorrow.” “Unacceptable,” Malisane replied gruffly, “well I am not waiting here. We will return to the Deathshead and wait until he arrives.” She turned to him. “I have bad news on that as well sir.” “What?” he asked. “Due to the championship the spaceport is currently sealed off sir,” she explained, “apparently there was interference with the racing in the past. This is a new rule.” Malisane looked at her. “They can not be serious. How long does it last?” She tapped her datapad a few times, and then her fingers brushed against the screen. “It is due to finish in about five hours sir.” Malisane looked around them in distaste. “So we can either watch five hours of idiots on ludicrously unsafe crafts crashing and burning with inane commentary while the crowd cheer or go “oooooo”, or we can go and find somewhere half decent for a drink until the spaceport opens.” “Second one sir?” “Yes.” He paused. “Move out now and be quick about it.” “Sir?” she asked, slightly offended by his tone. “Not you,” he looked down as a black astromech droid emerged from under a nearby table, its head rotating left and right, and it made a deep disapproving tone. “Lead the way Zero,” Malisane ordered.

As it turned out the second option was not as easy as it sounded. The Championship was a popular event, and it had drawn a large crowd and every sort of stall and game had been brought to make money from them. The assassin droid was pushing its way through the packed crowd, making loud noise every time they got too close. Both Malisane and Cerys kept their possessions close to them as they were jostled occasionally, both aware this was a haven for pickpockets. Malisane watched and Cerys sensed the attractions around them, as a wall of noise and smells hit them of games, food and people. Malisane grew impatient and pushed past the droid, heading for a smallish clearing. Then he heard a voice “Hey you in the hood, come over here.” Malisane's had went down to a concealed pocket in the back of his robes, where his lightsaber was hidden. His gaze turned curiously as he prepared for action. Then he saw a brightly dressed man waving at him. “Yeah you, come and try your luck, only five credits a go.” Malisane saw several people surrounding the man looking at him, and after a seconds hesitation walked over.

The man was stood in front of a small table, on which were three upturned cups. He was beaming at the Warlord. “Sir, for just five credits you get a chance to win fifty shiny ones. All you have to do is watch and then guess which cup the balls is under.” He was holding a small golden ball in one hand. “Very well,” Malisane replied, producing a credit note from a stash he kept for emergencies when he did not want a digital trail. The man put the note on the table in front of him. “Okay sir, her we go. I put this ball under the middle cup, do you see it there sir?” “Obviously,” Malisane replied, and heard a slight chuckle from those surrounding him. “Good sir, you're a natural, now watch closely sir as I cover the ball, and then try and follow it. If your eyes are keen you win the fifty credits.” The man's hands now began to move quickly, moving the three cups around expertly in an apparently random pattern, and Malisane's blue eyes watched them quietly as others leaned in for a closer look. Finally the man stopped and stepped back. “Alright sir, I hope you were watching hard. So tell me, where is the ball?” Malisane looked down for a few seconds, and then his gaze passed up the man's brightly coloured shirt to look him deeply in the eyes. “Your left hand,” he replied in a quiet tone. The man's face did not flicker. “I beg your pardon sir?” “The ball,” Malisane said slowly and slightly louder, “is in your left hand.” There was now a murmuring from the crowd, including previous unlucky players, and it was becoming darker. The man's face remained passive, but now his eyes showed a hint of fear. “I think you are mistaken sir,” he replied, “I'll show you.” His hand moved quickly for the centre cup, and then stopped as Malisane's gaze descended to it. His arm began to shake and the man now showed signs of discomfort, as his arm slowly raised up, and his knuckles turned white as he tried to keep his fist clenched. Finally as sweat broke out on his face his fingers opened to show the ball. As Malisane stepped back, around him the crowd suddenly stepped forward as one towards the man, who now brought his right hand up and grabbed his cash box. As the crowd continued to move he turned and bolted off into the people behind him.

Malisane watched the pursuit with interest. “Better than pod racing.” “That was probably unnecessary sir,” Cerys replied. “I can not stand cheats,” he told her. She thought for a few seconds. “But if his game had been honest you would have been cheating,” she reasoned, “you're a force user.” “I could sense his deception before I agreed to play,” he replied, “had I not I would not have bothered.” “Very well.” she replied. Malisane looked down. “Zero, find us a cantina. Lead the way.” They walked a bit further, until Cerys stopped. “One moment Warlord.” Malisane looked around suspiciously, “What?” “That knife throwing game.” “What about it.” “I wish to take part,” she replied. Malisane shrugged. “As you wish. I will find a table.”

He continued walking until he found a cantina that was not too busy. He walked inside, Zero following him. He looked around. It was obvious why it was half empty. The atmosphere was dark and oppressing, the patrons skulked over their drinks, casting the odd suspicious look at the door whenever anyone entered before looking back down, and the furniture was old and basic with little comfort. Malisane nodded to himself. This would do nicely. As he approached a bar a Toydarian fluttered over, and hovered in front of the Sith. “Welcome custome. I am Hogi, you want table and drink?” “Of course,” Malisane replied, “do you have a problem with the droid?” The Toydarian looked down at the assassin astromech droid, and then back at Malisane. “Of course not, everybody welcome here, so long as the little fellow buys his round. Hahaha!” Ignoring the derisive tone from the droid, Malisane nodded. “Good, then I will have a table and bring me something strong.” “Good!” the owner replied as he flew over to an empty table in one corner, “you come at good time, this is happy hour in Hogi's Bar!” Malisane looked around once more at the dark cantina with its quiet skulking half sozzled customers. “So I see.” “One moment and I bring you best drink you have for years.” Hogi flew off towards the bar and Malisane was seated, being careful to face the door and most of the bar.

After a few moments a man approached the table and leaned over the Sith. “Hey do you want..” “No,” Malisane replied. “You don't know what I was about to ask,” the man protesest “The answer is the same.” “Hey you,” Hogi said as he flew over with a flagon, “I tell you no deathstick selling in my bar, and if you want to use you go outside. You give Hogi's bad name. This is family place.” The death stick dealer and Malisane both looked around the bar again, and shared a quick puzzled glance, and then the man shrugged and walked away to his table.” Malisane looked at the small glass that was put in front of him. He picked it up and took a drink of the liquid. As his throat burned and his eyes watered slightly he recognised the drink. “You have Ewok Liquor here?” “Yeah, is very popular. Label say it is brewed on some remote world by ewoks, from ten types of plants and berries. Of course is nonsense is probably brewed in Coriela factory.” Malisane knew the planet it was brewed on and the Sith-spawned Ewoks that did the brewing, but he shrugged. “Who knows? Bring me another.” “Good sir, if you like I keep them coming.”

After a few minutes Cerys entered, her sightless eyes failing to notice the grim atmosphere but her nose wrinkled slightly as she smelt it. She headed over the the Sith's table. Malisane looked up at her. “I assume you were successful, from the bantha you are carrying.” Cerys put the toy on the table and sat down. “I came second actually, the first prize was a set of crystal glasses. I was close but lost.” “Life is full of disappointments Captain.” “So what is the plan sir? I assume you do not intend to eat here?” “I am not that hungry. I am prepared to wait until we can get back to the ship.” The Toydarian appeared with a second drink. “Hey you meet lady friend, I told you is happy hour at Hogi's. Is good for romance!” Cerys looked up at him coldly. “Just bring me whatever he is having." Malisane's lip twisted in what could be amusement but he said nothing.

It was the season of the Corellian harvest. Celeste loved that specific time of year. The market district of Coronet city would come alive with travelers and tradesmen, off-worlders filled with stories of the far away systems she longed to visit.

Her brother Corvo would either be plucking away at the strings of his Hallikset, this time of year, in the streets or taking advantage of the visitors from far away lands. Many of them were unaware of just how quickly the web of deceit on Corellia could ensnare them with crippling debts. He did what he had to, whatever it took to protect her, to provide for her. Their father, Detrik was an Imperial trooper that preferred the company of Whyren's Reserve over time spent with his own children. Their mother, Sula, was long gone, she had passed away while giving birth to Celeste and Detrik resented her for it. It was obvious from the abuse and neglect that he provided while consumed by liquid rage.

While it enraged her brother, Celeste was innocent and pure. She never let anything sour her mood and she always looked forward to the future, to the possibilities that were hidden within it. Corvo admired that about her but was never able to get onboard with her optimism. He was her father figure, her friend, and her protector. 

========

"Celeste!" Detrik shouted as he stumbled through the door to their third story apartment. "Celeste!" he shouted again, "where is that girl?" he growled.

Celeste knew that when her father called, it was never for a good reason. Most of the time, hiding was in her best interest. 

Furniture snapped and glass shattered as Detrik stumbled and angrily smashed through the apartment. Liquor sloshed out of the bottle in his right hand and between shouts he would stop to gulp the amber liquid. 

Celeste froze, but in doing so, her foot slid forward and knocked a plant from the table she was hiding under. The crash caused Detrik to pause and turn with a fiendish gleam. "Celeste?" his query was filled with fake compassion, "come on out, you don't have to be AFRAID!!" reaching down he grabbed her by the hair and tugged her out from beneath the table. "You WILL come to me when I call for you, girl!" he raised his hand as if to strike her but he was interrupted as the door to the apartment slid open. 

"Corvo!" shouted Celeste with hope. 

Bubbling up from the pit of his belly, Corvo's anger rose to the surface as he walked in to witness what he was trying to escape. 

"Let her go!" Corvo roared.

"Or what, you gonna stop me?" Detrik laughed. "You don't have the stones. I was Imperial Military, boy. You're nothing compared to me!" his laugh grew louder and caused Corvo's anger to erupt as he charged. "Fool!" Detrik shouted as he threw Celeste down and caught Corvo with a stiff backhand that caused the boy to stumble back into a shelf. "I've given you ungrateful brats everything, EVERYTHING!" his boot crashed into Corvo's ribs and he took another slug from the bottle. 

Corvo gasped for air and clenched his fists, a tingling pierced the back of his neck in that moment, it was like a thousand needles. 

"Stop!" Corvo shouted but it was useless as his father kicked him again. 

"You're pathetic, just like your sister!" Detrik roared back as he chambered his leg for another kick. 

It wouldn't connect. A primal growl tore through Corvo's vocal cords and a look of surprise contorted Detrik's face. It was a look that Corvo would never forget. The growl would then manifest and the very apartment began to tremble and shake. Detrik stumbled back and as he did, Corvo pushed himself up and stepped forward. Like an invisible explosion everything inside of the room imploded. A scream of terror and a sharp squeal escaped Detrik's alcohol soaked maw as he was blasted through the large glass window. 

Panic washed over the boy's features and he dropped to his knees feeling a sudden drain. His eyes scanned the wreckage and his heart sank when he saw the bloodied arm of his sister lifelessly laying on the floor, her body covered with remnants of furniture. His instincts told him all that he needed to know as he screamed and began to sob uncontrollably. What had he done? It was the only question he could ask himself as he became overwhelmed with confusion. His pale blue eyes never left his sister as he waited for her to move, waited for any signs of life. 

Falling to his face, he crawled over to her and as his shock subsided, he frantically ripped the pieces of furniture from his sister's lifeless body. He screamed once more as reality sunk in. Scooping her up, he pulled her close to his body and rested his head against hers.

"Celeste, what have I done?" 

The birds stopped their singing as day turned into night. He held her for what seemed to be a lifetime and as he expected the Corellian Security Force to arrive at any moment, the door to the apartment slid open. Startled, Corvo's eyes flicked over to the door and standing in the doorway was a large man, seemingly cloaked in shadow. Corvo froze as he saw the being's mechanical arms, the right hand clasping the left wrist. 

Before Corvo could speak, he was immediately stopped by the stranger's eerily calm voice.

"The name's Bentre, and I think you need to come with me."

Manually added by Prophet Howlader Taldrya

Ralltiir Near the High Ontis mountains 14 ABY

The small farming community was situated at the base of the central continental mountain range and the start of a large marshy area that extended to the ocean. Small farms dotted the area, growing a rice-like grain that helped to feed the local area. Small herds of Nerfs and Batuuans slogged through the marshy fields, occasionally fertilizing the land.

"It's got to be stopped!" yelled one person.

"He killed six of my Batuuans, left them in pieces!” another woman exclaimed.

“Two children and their mother were slaughtered by this monster.” the town constable softly said. The group of people became very quiet at this.

Benn looked at his mother and cocked an eyebrow in query. She pursed her lips and then nodded.

“I’ll hunt it, the killer,” he said stepping forward. “I will need some help tracking this thing, but I’ll get rid of it for you.”

Everyone turned to look at the young man, some having to look up at him. Broad across the shoulders, exuding a calm strength, Benn put his hands on his hips and looked around.

“But, you are just a boy!” one older man laughed, getting some of his cronies to chuckle along with him.

“Yes, and I am also the one willing to go take care of this problem, unlike you.” Benn replied, looking the man in the eye. “This has been going on for how long now? Two, three weeks? And yet here you all stand doing nothing but complain! And this after the death of two children!” Benn looked around at the people, seeing fear and shame in their eyes.

The constable stepped forward. “Constable Joba Rethlorkin, I’ll help, I think I have an idea where the bastard has been hiding out,” he said, holding out his hand to Benn.

Benn nodded and shook the other man's hand. Adjusting his blaster he looked around. “Anyone else?” He asked, pointedly looking at the smartalec man from earlier. The man wouldn’t meet his eyes.

A local farmer named Quin, and a friend of Benns stepped forward. “Yeah Benn, sign me up. I’ll get my rifle and be ready to help you in a few minutes.”

Benn walked over and kissed his mother on the cheek and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I stay safe,” he said as he left.

Quin ran off to grab his rifle from his hover truck, then came back grinning. The trio headed off, Benn and the Constable in quiet conversation.

"Luck!" one of the townspeople yelled out.

Looking back the three smiled and waved.

The "hunt" turned out to be rather uneventful. Once the three were out of the town, and heading towards the forests at the base of the mountains, spoor from the monster they hunted started appearing everywhere. Dead animals, partially eaten, food containers and wrappers, tracks all over.

The constable pointed towards a rocky overhang about 95 meters from where they stood. "I have a feeling we'll find what we are looking for in there. The tracks all seem to head in that direction."

Benn unholstered his blaster and charged it. Quin chambered a round in his rifle, as Constable Rethlorkin pulled out a slug thrower and racked the slide back.

"I'll head over that way," Quin said, pointing off to the left. "I have a hunting stand over there, maybe I can spot something up there.

Benn and Joba nodded. "Should we take the cave straight on or?" he asked the constable.

"I can lead, just be careful with that blaster," the older man joked.

Nodding, he made sure the blaster's safety was switched on as they headed towards the caves.

Benn looked at the other man, eyebrows raised once they got close. "What the hell makes such a mess? This makes my bedroom look clean."

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it seems to kill just for the joy of killing, and it will eat anything apparently," Joba said, kicking a half eaten container of spoiled food aside.

Except for the bones and half eaten bodies of various animals.. The search in the caves was fruitless, so the two headed out.

Breathing in somewhat fresher air, Benn hoped the putrid smell of rotted meat, spoiled food and death wouldn't stay in his clothing.

"I want to try something," Benn offered. "I don't know how it works, but I can sometimes feel or sense things around me. I just have to concentrate on it."

The constable nodded and stepped back from the young man. "At this point? I'm open to anything."

Sitting down on a nearby rock and closing his eyes, he managed to slowly clear his mind of all the chaos around him. Slowing his breathing, he began to reach out to the world around him. The feelings, smells, sounds, everything, became muted. Soon he was lost in a swirl of shifting patterns. He "felt" Joba, standing by him, then as he expanded outward he "felt" Quin up in his tree stand. He felt the earth, the trees around him, everything seemed to be connected. Then he felt rage, anger, and pain. It wasn’t far away, and it was coming closer.

Coming out of his trance, Benn started to look around at the surrounding forest. Slowly, as if called, the killer appeared, It was huge, brutish, feral. Its eyes were a bright orange with black slits for pupils.

“There!” he yelled as the monster charged him. Without really knowing how he did it, he lept backwards from the attack, just avoiding the outstretched claws.

Joba swung around and began firing at the figure, the bullets impacted, blood and gore spurting and flying. The brute just kept on moving, howling as each bullet struck.

Benn aimed and began firing. The electric crackling sound of the bolts mixing with the sharp crack of the rifle filled the clearing. The smell of singed hair, burning flesh, spattering blood assaulting the senses.

Suddenly it was over. The thing lay splayed out, not moving. Blood leaking from numerous bullet holes, hair smoking and singed around blaster marks.

"I don’t think he will be a problem any longer,” the constable said, panting from exertion.

Benn glanced at him, then looked back at his target. The blaster shot was one in a million. It had caught the hulking brute right in the middle of the spine, paralyzing, but not killing it.

"Hey! You got 'im," Quin yelled out, a smile on his face as he approached the scene.

Grinning, Benn nodded and pulled out his knife. Reaching out to pull the brute's head back, he slit the killer's throat. Blood sprayed everywhere, causing the two others to jump back.

Saying a prayer of forgiveness to himself, he reversed the knife and drove it between the ribs and into the heart. The murdering beast shuddered once and died.

'"Urg, er, that is nasty," said the constable wiping blood from his boots. "You killed it, you deal with the mess."

The young man nodded and got out some synthecord from a belt pouch and bound the feet of the corpse.

Spooling it out, he looked around for a suitable tree branch to throw the cord over. Finding one he tossed the thin synthecord over it.

"Hey, help me lift him. The sooner we are done the sooner we can get home and eat". Benn said, grunting as he pulled on the rope.

The men grabbed the slack end of the rope, and between the three of them they hoisted the corpse off the ground.

It swayed in the breeze, blood slowly dripping from the gaping cut in its throat.

“Soooo….what now?” the old farmer asked, looking at the beast that hung before him.

“Well, um, I don’t know,” Benn said as he examined the beast. “The History museum would probably pay a good amount of credits for the body, but this one is full of holes now.” He bent down and examined the teeth and then the paws. “Hey! See here? It’s paw is infected, It can’t use it to make it’s kills. That's why it was killing easy prey.”

The other two men looked at the swollen front paw and saw that the area around one of the claws was red and inflamed.

“Well I’ll be damned. You’re right," Joba said. “Are you going to keep the head as a trophy?”

Benn shook his head and stepped back. “No, it was a noble beast that fell due to sickness. Killing it was a kindness. I think we should burn the body, or at least bury it."

Joba sized up the young man beside him. “You know people are going to want to take revenge on this thing for what it did.”

Benn started laughing. “What, are they going to beat the corpse with a stick? Will that bring back the woman and her children? It was doing what its species does, nothing more nothing less. No, we burn the corpse and call it a day well done.”

That night, as he looked up at the stars from his back porch, he thought about the beast he had slain. Was he in the right? Did he have the right to take a life, even of an animal? What if it had been a human? He believed that what he had done was for the best. He protected others. He was taught that by his mother since he was a small boy. Help others, protect others. Sometimes it will be difficult, in the end you will know. In your heart you will know.

Benn put his hands behind his head and smiled.

There's no place like home ...

Slowly he opened his eyes, the black lenses embedded in his skull rising as he looked around. There was a malodorous smell coming through the mask of his hood. He looked down. He was wearing his familiar dark grey suit, with it's black armoured panels, but there was no sign of his weapons or equipment on his belt. He looked up again. The light was bright and he instinctively shut his eyes again. Slowly he opened them again. He was laid on the floor in what seemed to be a narrow alleyway. The wall on either side appeared to be made of rectangular red stones fitted together in a sheer pattern, and immediately behind him was a large metallic container, the source presumably of the smell. At the end of the alley the bright sunlight lit him up, and he was unable to make out any features in what presumably was a street beyond. Carefully he got to his feet and dusted himself down. He appeared to be uninjured. Slowly he looked around, trying to see if any equipment he had brought had fallen off in however he had got wherever this was. The was nothing familiar. Slowly and cautiously he made his way along the alleyway towards the light, his senses feeling many people beyond the alleyway. He reached the end and stepped out into the sunlight and looked around at the scene.

There were many humans walking about, or at least what appeared to be human. The street was a dark grey with several cracks and holes in it. Along the street he could make out shops and bars, with a writing above them he did not recognise. He could see nothing in Basic, which was unusual in itself most cultures used it at least as the 2nd language. Most of the shops and bars appeared to be shut and had metal over the doors and windows, though there was at least one shop open. As he began to make his way along the street, a few of the people glanced at him in his hood but they also seemed to be wearing masks over their faces, mostly white with some variation of black or colours. He sound sense a strangeness in the air, like these people had a cautiousness about them that was not related to his odd appearance, and he noticed they seemed to be maintaining a distance from each other as well. Their behaviour was strange to him compared to the hustle and bustle of most of the cities he had visited including his own city of Seng Karash on Aeotheran.

Eventually he reached a crossroads and stopped. A speeder was making its way along the street. He studied it in puzzlement. It had wheels like he had seen on some of the Imperial transports, though it was red and much smaller and had one man sat at the controls. The street he had just entered was wider and disappeared off in either direction and was dotted with more mostly closed bars. There were more people walking about, also mostly wearing face masks and keeping their distance from each other, except for couples walking together or groups of younger people. What was this place? It felt real, though often dreams did until you woke up. Nothing was right about it though, the people looked human but did not quite feel right, and the technology looked wrong, as did the languages. How had he got here?

He heard a voice behind him and turned around. There were two men facing him. They were wearing black trousers, white shirts, a strange bright yellow vest and oddly domed black helmets. A quick glance downwards revealed they had belts with items on them but nothing that looked like a projectile weapon. Malisane had seen enough law enforcement officers in his time to recognise them. They did not look threatening and their manner was relaxed. One of them spoke again in the strange language he did not recognise. He was smiling slightly but his eyes were firm. “I do not understand you,” Malisane replied in basic. The two law enforcement officers glanced at each other, and then back at him. One made a gesture at him and spoke again, only this time more loudly and slowly, a technique Malisane himself often employed when dealing with aliens in basic. He sighed. He was becoming irritated. He had no way of knowing what they wanted, and he felt a sudden urge to drop both of them and make a quick escape. They were both large and fit looking, but he doubted they had his training, and certainly not the force. However if they were official they might be his route to understanding where he was, and more importantly if there was any way of getting back to his own world. He raised his hands and said. “I surrender to you.”

The two officers glanced at each other again, a look of confusion passing between them and then one of them made a lifting gesture to Malisane's hood and spoke more firmly. Malisane sighed. This was probably going to be tricky. Slowly his hands went to the hood, and he drew it back, pulling the hooded mask up and over his head, where it fell to his shoulders. With sudden looks of horror the officers took in the burned skin, ripped mouth and ears, missing nose and black lenses over his eyes where the lids used to be. A look of concern passed over their faces, and then one of them reached down to his chest where a communicator was hung and spoke into it. The other made a flat handed gesture to him spoke firmly again. With no other option except a sudden violent escape the Warlord patiently waited.

After a few minutes another of the wheeled speeders arrived. This one was predominantly white, with yellow and blue patterns and more of the writing he had seen earlier. It also had a strange block of blue plastic on top. Two more of the uniformed officers got out of the front, looked at him curiously taking in his disfigurements, and then spoke to the first two. Then one of them opened the rear doors of the vehicle and gestured to him. Malisane nodded. So long as they were taking him somewhere useful he was happy to comply. He crouched and sat in the back of the speeder and sat back. The door was shut behind him with a metallic clunk and the two officers who had arrived in it got in and spoke to him, one of them turning him him. Malisane still did not sense a threat from either of them, and they were speaking in a calm tone. He made a slight shrugging gesture with his shoulders and then looked ahead past them through the transparent glass. There was a light rumbling noise and the speeder vibrated slightly, as it began to roll forward and accelerate.

As the vehicle accelerated Malisane look curiously out of the window. This was a strange place. Though he recognised most of the features, shops, bars, restaurants, people, more of the wheeled speeders, the construction looked very basic to him. Even on the most remote worlds technology was fairly standard with his own. The clothes were similar to his own world's. He had not seen a single non human or droid though, though he recognised a few four legged animals that resembled small short haired wolfs, controlled by leads and clearly being kept as pets by the inhabitants. The lack of droids concerned him the most. He had to speak to these people to find out where he was, and hopefully find a ship that would take him off this world and back to Orian, and a protocol droid would help, even if it could analyse basic and interpret it into whatever language they spoke here.

Eventually they reached a squat grey building and the speeder stopped. One of the officers got out. The other looked at him in the mirror above the controls and spoke to him. Malisane sat calmly. Then the officer returned and opened the door, speaking to him. He got out and stood calmly, blinking slightly in the bright sunlight. He followed them inside through some sliding glass doors and up to a desk, behind which stood another officer. Following a conversation and some more scrutiny of the Sith he was directed to raise his arms and was searched, and then lead through a locked door and into an area behind the desk, and down a corridor. Eventually he entered what to his surprise was not a cell or containment area, but a simple while walled room with a table and four chairs. He was directed to sit at one of them and he complied. One of the officers left and the other stood by the shut door passively. The officer glanced at Malisane and said something with a slight smile. Malisane had learned in the past that smiling with his ripped mouth and broken teeth did not usually provoke a positive response and kept his features as passive as possible. He sat back in his chair.

After an indeterminate time, and an older man wearing a grey jacket and trousers, white shirt, and a blue thin scarf around his neck and trailing down his chest. He was carrying some papers and sat down. He was carrying a cup with some brown hot liquid in it. He smiled at Malisane and gestured towards the cup, speaking slowly. Malisane shook his head. He had been trained not to accept refreshments unless forced to in these situations, due to the threat of imbibing something to control him or force him to reveal more than he wanted to. The plain clothed man nodded and then looked down at his papers, rifling through them, and then placed a document in front of Malisane, speaking slowly still. Malisane glanced at it. It was covered in plastic, and on it were a long series of patterned rectangles, with what appeared to be writing under them, some matching the letters he had seen earlier and others of a different curlier or pictorial structure. Malisane looked back up at the man in confusion who pointed at the rectangles and then at Malisane, speaking to him and smiling. After a few seconds Malisane understood his meaning. “I do not understand these images,” he said speaking slowly himself, “do you have a translation droid or software? I need to speak to whoever is in charge here.” The man frowned at him, and then spoke one word, pointing at the Sith. He paused, and then pointed to a badge pinned to his chest, and then spoke another word, and then pointed at Malisane again, speaking in a questioning tone. “I am Sith Warlord Malisane Sadow, of Clan Naga Sadow.” The man looked at him in confusion, and the Sith sighed. He pointed to his chest. “Mal-is-ane,” he said loudly pointing to himself. “Mal-is-ane?” the man repeated still pointing at the Sith. He spoke a few words finishing in “Mal-is-ane?” “Yes, Malisane,” the Sith replied.

He began to sense he was wasting his time with these people, and escape was seemingly like the more likely option. He glanced down at the belt of the officer that was stood. There was a set of cuffs, some sort of container, which presumably held liquid or gas and a long black rod with a side handle. Not much, but it was better than nothing, and none of them were a threat to the training and force abilities of the Sith. He could overcome the two men in seconds, take the meagre weapons and fight his way out with or without a hostage. However he had no idea if there were more heavily armed officers within a quick distance or how good the defences of this place was. If he had to escape here would be a more opportune moment. The man stood up and left, and a second later other officer entered, and spoke some words followed by the elongated version of his name, gesturing. Suspecting the worst but also looking for an escape attempt, the Sith followed. He was further to the corridor, and through a door. Beyond was a woman in a white long coat and normal clothes beneath. She spoke to him, including his distorted name. Malisane's gaze flickered quickly around the room. If had a desk, and what looked like primitive medical equipment. He was directed to undress his top half, then lay on a bed covered in a thin paper covering. He was then subjected to a fairly passive medical examination, including a blood and skin sample, swab of his mouth, and a device attached to his finger connected to a machine with a display. As a light was shone into his eyes the woman frowned in puzzlement at his black lenses and she spoke to the officer who had remained with them. Finally she left the room and he was allowed to dress again. The officer lead him to room with a heavy metal door, and he was directed inside. The small rooms only contents were a basic bed and a white lidless container that appeared to be plumbed into the floor. The officer spoke to him calmly, and then left, and the door was shut behind him with a metallic thud. Malisane glanced at the bed, and then opted to remain standing. Slowly he began to calm his heart rate, and began a simple meditation routine.

Eventually the door opened again and he was lead out of the room by two officers and back to the room. He was directed to sit and a piece of paper on plastic board was given to him and a thin object, and one of the officers indicated the writing on the piece of paper, and then directed him to the bottom and spoke a word. Malisane shrugged in confusion. The officer indicated the thin object, and said a word, then “Mal-is-ane.”, taking a similar device from his own pocket and scratching it across another piece of paper, leaving a trail of black liquid that sank into the paper. Malisane not knowing what else to do made a mark on the bottom of the paper. Satisfied they took it from him and he was lead out to the reception area. Waiting for him were two other uniformed men, though these were more severe looking, their uniforms were dark blue and stricter looking. They glanced at the paper that was given to them by the other officers, and then made their own mark on it. Then they lead him outside. Waiting was a larger white vehicle with only two doors on the sides and a smooth side with more writing, and a door at the rear. One of the new officers opened the door. Inside was a small caged area, with a small seat. He was directed to sit inside and the door was closed behind him. He waited until the vehicle made a rumbling sound and vibrated slightly, and then he felt it began to move.

Malisane considered his options. It was obvious they were taking him to a more secure location, why he was unsure except maybe they had no idea what to do with him. Every attempt he had made to communicate with these people had failed. It was unlikely his next location would be more fruitful. Wherever they were taking him would probably be vastly more secure than the temporary detainment centre he had been in previously, and even with their clearly backwards technology it would be harder to escape there than his present location. He had no idea how far the journey would be, minutes or hours, and decided now was as good a time as any. Slowly he looked around the small containment area. He was inside a cage, and beyond that was the heavy door that had no handle on the inside. Slowly he focused on the initial cage door, letting his mind sink into the basic mechanism. Compared with the security systems of his own world it was ludicrously easy and the lock opened with a clunk. Then he focused on the heavy door, moving the mechanism. Finally he made a gesture and the door burst open revealing the now dark street they were travelling on.

He tensed himself for a second and then leapt, slowing himself and hitting the street smoothly and began to run. A few seconds later the vehicle screeched to a halt, and as he glanced behind him one of the officers quickly got out. The man saw and shouted as he began to run, shouting into his communicator. The vehicle began to turn ponderously as Malisane continued to run. Seeing another of the metallic containers nearby next to a building Malisane vaulted onto it, and then tensed himself and leapt higher, grabbing the flat roof above and quickly pulling himself up. He could hear the shouting below and the sound of the vehicle, and in the distance he began to hear a strange whining high pitched noise and below them the sound of more vehicles. He continued to run, leaping across a gap between two buildings effortlessly. He continued to move from the epicentre, keeping up a fast pace. Finally when he was several streets away he dropped into an alley and pulled the hood of his robe back over his head, taking a few breaths. He could hear the strange high pitched noises and the vehicles moving past him towards near where he had left them.

He began to walk out into the night. The usually fearless Sith felt an unusual stab of despair. His attempts to figure out this world he found himself in had proved ineffective. He had no idea how he had got here, where he was, or how to get back to his Clan, and he was now a fugitive. He continued to walk through the night. He did not know what to make of these strange inhabitants of this world. In some ways their civilisation was similar to his own, but in others it was vastly different. He had not been mistreated so far, though that would likely change if he was captured again and even if he could make them understand his language, would he be able to explain who he was. Malisane looked up at the sky. The light pollution and clouds made the view unimpressive, but he could make out a few stars in the sky. Was one of them Orian, or any he recognised? Who knew? He would leave this world and get home somehow. If he could not make these people cooperate then they might need to be coerced, by whatever means the Warlord had at his disposal. Buoyed by this thought he continued out into the night to find shelter and refreshments, and perhaps more understanding.

Ellac stared blankly at the pale infirmary lights that hung from the ceiling as the medical droid unwrapped the bandages on his arms. “Your burns have all healed. As such, I’m discharging you,” the droid said dryly. “Do give Master Lap’lamiz my regards. Seven years I’ve been serving in this station, and I’ve never had to tend to a single patient as many as I have you. Now get out of here. I’ve had enough of you for one planetary cycle.”

                                               •••

The mess hall was quieter than usual, with a lot of people taking leave to be with their families and friends, or even just to get away from the recent conflicts. But for all the vacationing, there were still those like Ellac who didn’t really know what else to do with his time. Sykes was away on some business with the Clan summit, and the others who had gone on Kamjin’s little ‘Island retreat’ were either still recovering or visiting family of their own. As Ellac slid his tray down the line, shoveling food onto his plate, he noticed a grey-skinned Togruta sitting alone at one of the center tables, glaring at his meal as he tossed it with his fork. His orange eyes glanced over, locking with Ellac’s for a moment before he stood up, dumping what was left of his food in the bin as he left.

“If you’re done gazing at tall, dark, and broody over there, could I be a bother and ask you to go eat in peace so I could get some food?”

Ellac chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at the man behind him, immediately doing a double-take when he saw the blood-red hair and maroon facial tattoos laid over his pale skin, with a black piece of cloth wrapped over his eyes. “…Sorry,” Ellac said, stepping away from the counter.

“Are you?,” the man asked.

“I’m sorry?,” Ellac said, looking back at him.

“You don’t even sound sure anymore,” he poked.

Ellac stared at him in equal parts irritation and intrigue as the man turned with his tray towards the Knight.

“What?” he asked, biting off a piece of bread from his plate.

Ellac hesitated, inspecting the cloth over the man’s eyes. “How can you see?”

“Never met a Miralukan before, huh? Allow me to introduce myself then. Azerith Wesmir. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, extending his hand.

“Ellac,” he said, reaching to shake his hand before finding his right hand was extended to Azerith’s left.

“A man with no last name? Someone has trust issues.” Azerith teased, switching his hands around.

“Let’s just say the last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye. So no, not a fan of the whole ‘blind trust’ thing,” Ellac smirked, finally shaking hands with the Miralukan before setting down at the table beside them.

“I see what you did there,” Azerith snickered.

“Do you?”

“No, but apparently neither do you.” Azerith sneered. “Sounds like it was a good time.”

“Agree to disagree on that one.” Ellac spooned a bit of the standard issue slop into his mouth as Azerith chuckled between bites.

“Oh yeah?”

“You dive headfirst into a pile of poodoo and tell me that you’re having a good time.”

“If I recall,” a familiar voice rang behind Ellac, “it was more than just poodoo.”

“Master. That was rather quick for a summit gathering.” Ellac turned to greet Sykes as he took a seat beside his apprentice.

“It wasn’t nearly as long as I’d have liked,” Sykes said, eyeing his apprentice’s meal with distaste before shifting his focus to Azerith’s plate. “Enjoying Elaina’s lovely cooking, I see.”

“If it can even be called cooking.” The neophyte grinned as he pushed his tray away.

“Trust me, kid, there are worse things to eat. Enjoy this while you can.” Sykes let his words hang in the air as he turned back to Ellac. “We’ve been given a new assignment. Kah’ri and his master will be joining us on this one,” he said, rising to his feet. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. Get what you need, and get down to the hangar.” Sykes’s robes trailed loosely through the air behind him as he made his way to the door. “Oh, and Ellac,” he said without turning back. “Don’t keep me waiting this time.”

Azerith grabbed his tray as he rose from the table, waiting until he was confident that Sykes was out of earshot to speak again. “He’s a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?,” he said with a smirk. “Tread carefully with that one.” Placing his flatware in the same bin as the Togruta earlier, the Miralukan left with a nod towards his new acquaintance.

Taking one last bite of his food before doing the same, Ellac jogged down the corridor to the lift that took him back to his quarters. Gathering his weapons from the footlocker at the end of his bed, Ellac glanced over at the chronometer on his nightstand. “Damn, I’m gonna be late,” he said, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. Draping his cloak over his shoulders, Ellac rushed off towards the hangar.

The heavy blast doors slid open as Ellac stepped through, peering through the bustling assortment of pilots and droids to find Sykes leaning against the inner-wall of a primed Lambda-class shuttle, Kah’ri and another man Ellac had never met already sitting in the seats behind him. The muscles in the Hunter’s shoulders stiffened as he approached the ship, sensing the shadow looming over his master.

Sykes glared at his apprentice as he walked up the ramp, the young Sith opening his mouth to speak before closing it again as he continued up the ramp. As he stepped past his master, Sykes grabbed his arm, leaning in close to Ellac’s ear. “I warned you.”

Confusion flashed across the hunter’s face before he realized what Sykes had done. His left arm dangled limply from his shoulder as he pulled away from his master too late. Sykes pushed him down into one of the seats lining the shuttle wall as the poison began to spread to his chest. “Orders are not optional. If you’re not going to follow them, poison will be the least of your concerns. Clear?”

Ellac strained to nod his head as the toxins streaked through his bloodstream, causing his body to fail. The Hunter wheezed as he fought to maintain his breathing.

Sykes reached to the wall above Ellac, closing the bay doors of the shuttle as he commanded the pilot to take off, muttering as he walked towards the cockpit. “And you thought Kamjin was bad.”

The poison from Sykes’ ring began to drag Ellac’s mind into a heavy lull, his vision blurring as he struggled to maintain consciousness. ’This is STILL better than the rancors,’ he thought to himself as the last of his cognizant brain functions were wrest from his grasp.

                                                   •••

A sudden bump jolted Ellac from his toxin-induced sleep, his eyes squinting up at the orange evening sky above him. ‘This isn’t the shuttle.’, he thought to himself as he inspected the land speeder he was now laying in. Multiple people sat in the speeder around him, their tattered clothes and bound hands matching the grim expressions on their faces as they rode to whatever fate awaited them.

“Hey, you’re finally awake.”

Ellac craned his neck as he looked over to the man who spoke, doing another double-take when he recognized the red hair and blindfolded eyes of the man sitting in the speeder beside him. “Azerith?”

“Fancy meeting you here,” the Miralukan chuckled. “You’ve been out for a while.”

“Just having another good time,” Ellac sighed, trying to push himself up before realizing his hands had been bound, too. “What the…?”

“Oh yeah, looks like we’re slaves now,” Azerith said, raising his hands to show a pair of stun cuffs.

“What are you talking about? Hang on, why are you even here?”

“I didn’t have anything better to do, and I wanted to know what you guys were up to, so I kind of, sort of peeked at your shuttle’s navi-computer when no one was looking and I followed you guys over here. I showed up just as the rest of our friends here were loading onto the speeders,” he said, gesturing to the other slaves. “When I saw that master of yours toss you into this speeder, I followed suit.” Azerith smiled.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ellac said, pushing himself up with his elbow. “As soon as Sykes finds out-”

“Oh, he already knows,” Azerith interrupted with a grin. “He saw me jump in the speeder, but he couldn’t do anything to me without rousing suspicion, so here we are.”

Ellac shook his head with a laugh. “You’re either crazy or brilliant.”

“It’s funny how often those two coincide,” Azerith said, maintaining his grin.

“Quiet back there!” the pilot growled from the front of the speeder.

Ellac looked over at the other slaves, realizing that they hadn’t uttered a word since he woke up from his ‘nap’. Recall the earlier incident, Ellac also noticed that he hadn’t seen Kah’ri or Reiden since the hangar. “Where are the others?” he asked in a hushed voice to Azerith.

“The only other person I saw get out of your shuttle was that guy,” Azerith said, pointing towards a brown-haired man riding in another speeder in front of the one these two were in.

‘So there IS a plan,’ Ellac thought to himself, noticing the same grim expression on the ‘passengers’ in the other speeder. ’But of course Sykes didn’t feel inclined to share it.’ He shook his head in frustration, turning back to Azerith. “Did you happen to find out where they’re taking us?”

“Nope. I just hope it’s not one of those places like the Hutts on Tatooine. They’ll feed you to a rancor if you look at them sideways,” he said, realizing his poor choice of words as Ellac’s expression began to match the slaves’ next to him.

Ellac clenched his teeth at Azerith’s words, pushing the memories of the Arx Colosseum from his mind as he looked up to the enormous structure as they emerged from the tree line. “Looks like we won’t need to guess,” he said, pointing up at the castle before them. “That’s [INSERT SYNDICATE NAME HERE]’s castle.

The two speeders slowed to a stop as they approached the massive gates, the pilot in front passing a datapad to one of the many guards posted at the perimeter. Ellac and Azerith were too far to hear what they were saying as they inspected the shipment of ‘cargo’. Handing the datapad back to the pilot, the first guard waved his hand, signaling for the gate to be opened a moment before the two solid steel plates slid open just enough to allow the speeders to pass through.

“I’ve got a bad feeli-“ Azerith started as their speeder passed by a menacing looking guard.

“Don’t say it,” Ellac cut him off, looking up at the castle.

“Fine,” the Miralukan said with slight disappointment. “So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then what are we doing here?” Azerith asked as they drew nearer to their destination.

“I am here on assignment from my clan. You decided to follow us, so like it or not, you’re part this now.” Ellac said plainly. “So do me a favor, and don’t get yourself killed.”

Ellac and Azerith watched as the speeders pulled into a wide tunnel at the far side of the building that appeared to function as a loading bay both for outgoing and incoming shipments. Carrying the latter, the speeders pulled to the side, stopping before a door that seemed to lead deeper into the castle.

“Everybody out!” A burly red Twi’lek barked as he strode out from the doorway. Ellac guessed by the white and gold armor that he must be some kind of Captain. The young Sith hesitated a moment as Azerith stood to follow the rest of the ‘passengers’ as they slowly shuffled out of the vehicles. “Are you deaf? I said get out!” the Twi’lek said, signaling a nearby guard who climbed into the back of the speeder, grabbing Ellac by the neck as he shoved Azerith out of the vehicle.

The Miralukan crashed onto the stone ground, wincing as his shoulder softened his fall. “Easy tiger,” he chimed between coughs. Another guard jabbed him in the side with an electro-baton, causing Azerith to yelp in pain. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked up the guard with a grin. “I’m shocked. Is this how you treat your guests?” ZAP! Azerith yelped again as the guard pulled him to his feet. “Worth it,” he choked out as the guard pushed him through the door.

“You wanna play wise-guy too?” The guard snarled at Ellac, tightening his grip around the young Sith’s throat. Ellac grimaced as he reached for his lightsaber, his bound hands finding nothing but his empty belt. ‘Great.’ he thought as the guard threw him to the ground, knocking the air from his lungs as the back of his head hit the stone, his head throbbing as his vision turned grey. A few more nearby guards came and grabbed Ellac by his arms as they dragged him inside.

Ellac’s eye strained as he tried to take in the room, his sight still spinning from the impact. It looked to be a staging area for their cargo, with variously sized crates stacked against to one side of the room..

“Backs to the wall, all of you!” the Twi’lek shouted, following after Ellac.

Spirit’s broken, the slaves slowly turned their backs to the crates like drones under a hivemind. The guards dragged Ellac to his feet as his head began to clear. Falling in line with the others, he noticed Kah’ri was missing from the lineup. ‘Really?‘

“Welcome to [INSERT SYNDICATE NAME HERE],” the Twi’lek interrupted his train of thought. “My name is Captain Tyba Da’iim. I will be your new master.” He sneered, baring his artificially sharpened teeth in a twisted grin. “Let me make something clear to you. You are not servants here, you are slaves. You have no value here aside from your usefulness to me. If you cannot obey the commands given to you, I will put an end your worthless lives, the only act of mercy any of you should expect to receive. Have I made myself clear?” he asked, the slaves answering his question with silence. “I’m glad we have an understanding,” Tyba said with a nod, turning to walk away as he told the guards to take them to their cell.

The guards pushed the slaves into the hallway outside of the cargo area, they natural glow of the evening sky being replaced with the artificial lights inside the castle. Ellac squinted as the guards led them through the hallway, the polished prismatic floors throwing the light back up at him. Finally arriving at their the new living space, Ellac recognized multiple races of some of the prisoners who had experienced the misfortune of meeting Captain Tyba before he did. The guards pushed them forward, despite there being multiple empty cells, and forced them all into one wider cell at the far corner of the hall. “Enjoy your stay!” one of the guards taunted as the closed the door behind them. As soon as the the door had been locked, the slaves stun cuffs fell from their wrists.

“Very hygienic,” a bruised Azerith said, inspecting their new living situation. “At least it’s roomy.”

Ellac nodded, rubbing his wrists as he joined Azerith in examining the cell. It looked to be considerably bigger than the neighboring cells, but with about a dozen slaves all together, any thought of privacy quickly became a distant memory. “The sooner we get this done, the better.” Ellac said.

“Any ideas?”

Ellac grit his teeth as he remembered that Kah’ri had disappeared. “No, not yet.”

“Well, we need to figure something out, ‘cause some of the slaves from the other speeder are looking at us like we’re ‘entertainers’ in a cantina.”

Ellac shook his head at Azerith as he glanced over at the other slaves. However odd his expression, he was right about them staring. A particularly beefy Duros made no effort to avert his eyes as they locked with Ellac’s.

“So what now?” Azerith asked, drawing Ellac’s attention back from the other slaves.

“I don’t know,” Ellac said, leaning against one of the walls of the cell as he stuck his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against the tip of a vial before he pulled it out to inspect it. “What is this?” Ellac stared at the small vial of clear liquid that had been placed in his pocket.

“Where’d that come from?” Azerith asked in a hushed voice, noticing the vial.

“It looks like…” Ellac stopped for a moment as he twisted the cap open just enough to smell its contents. “…Poison,” he continued. “No doubt belonging to Sykes.”

“Why do you have it then?”

“Well, knowing my master, it’s some kind of test,” Ellac said, turning the vial in his hand.

“What kind of test?” Azerith asked.

“The kind where failure isn’t an option,” the young Sith said, his eye staying fixated on the vial “This is likely a ‘gift’ intended for someone important here, in which case my job is to make sure they get it.” Ellac looked up at the locked cell door, instinctively reached for his lightsaber before realizing again that Sykes had confiscated his gear.

Azerith grinned again as he felt Ellac’s rising tension. “Don’t worry about the door. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” he said, patting Ellac on the shoulder as he eyed the Duros again. “Oi, Muscles! You want to help us get out of this cell?”

Standing from his spot on the ground, the Duros walked over to Azerith, cracking his knuckles in the typical tough-guy routine. “No point in tryin’. They’ll kill us all before we leave the cell block.”

“Well, better to die free than to die a slave, right?” Azerith chimed.

“I’d rather not die at all,” the Duros said, turning back towards the other slaves in the cell.

Azerith’s cocked his head as he reached into the Duros’ mind with the Force, a hint of a mischief creeping onto his face. “So you’d leave your wife and daughter to fend for themselves? You’d rather slink back into your corner with the rest of these cowards than see your family again?”

The Duros spun on his heel as he grabbed the Miralukan by the throat, as he brought their faces close together. “How do you know about my family?”

“That’s not all I know, Lithmar.” Azerith’s grin widened, even as the Duros tightened his grip.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?!?”

“I’m the man offering you a chance to win back your freedom.”

Lithmar maintained his grip as he stared at Azerith’s face. “A chance? That’s all you’ve got? A chance?”

Ellac’s frustrating grew to anger as he lifted his hand towards the Duros for a moment, wrapping the Force around his neck as if it were his own fingers as Lithmar began to cough and wheeze, his own grip on Azerith loosening. “Would you rather see what I have to offer you?” Ellac spat at the Duros. “Take a moment to consider that you’re not locked in a cell with those guards. You’re locked in here with me, and I will give you no such chance,” he said, Lithmar’s blue skin fading into a light shade of purple as his eyes began to bulge. “Now tell me, Duros, which would you prefer?” Ellac released his grip as he dragged his victim to the his knees.

Lithmar gasped as his windpipes opened again, sweat pouring from his domed head. “No more!,” he shrieked between breaths. “No more!”

“Good choice,” Ellac said, turning back towards Azerith who stood in a brief stunned silence at the young Sith’s rage.