Fiction Gallery

Fallout: An Empire Changing Battlelord Ric "Tater" Hunter (Sith) / QUA / House Imperium of Clan Scholae Palatinae Pin 3160

XS Stock Light Freighter “Holdout” - Outer Rim

Malodin’Blade, Chiss loyalist and partner of Battlelord Ric Hunter, sat behind the controls of the old freighter and kept her on a return course to Seraph. The war had ended but the two members of Scholae Palatinae had missed most of it. They had urgent business to attend to and it had kept them away during most of the fighting. Mal knew that some things had happened but the details were a bit unclear. Ric had been in his cabin on the holonet almost the entire trip back from Dantooine. He knew that major things had happened and knew that Ric would fill him in once he finished.
The cockpit door opened and Ric stepped through. He took his seat and let out a loud sigh. He looked tired.
“So what news from home, Boss?” Mal asked.
“I don’t even know where to begin. Things have changed. I’m not sure of all the details but once I get there, we’ll know much more. I tried to reach Kiera and she was busy on an assignment. Which means that Shadow has asked her to do something. I couldn’t reach Shadow directly. All the calls I have made to the Quaestors office have bounced back. I even tried to check the backlog of Aedile messages with no luck. It seems the war left the clan in a weird way,” Ric leaned back and rubbed his eyes.

Mal had seen him like this before. It had been when he started the hunt for Alex Malone, the rogue Jedi with a large bounty on his head. Mal had worried then that it was going to become an obsession and after recent events, it just might have. Mal knew that they had left at the start of the war because of a tip they had received about Malone and Rics stubbornness had led him to follow it. This time it had almost paid off, they had closed on Malone but once more he had slipped through their fingers.

A Few hours Later - Seraph

The freighter touched down at Imperiums small landing pad. Ric dropped the hatch and made his way to the building as Malodin finished securing the ship and getting it refueled and ready to go again if needed. With the recent upheavals in the Clan, Ric wasn’t sure what kind of situation he was walking into. He took the turbolift to his office and let himself inside. The first thing he saw was the light on his com unit was flashing so he sat and began to read. The first thing he saw was a death warrant for Empress Elincia Rei. It seemed that during the War she had betrayed Scholae and become a target for Imperial retribution. Part of Ric was surprised but another part of him really wasn’t. The Empress had always had a very good way of making sure that she preserved herself and if the opportunity arose, he could see her turning traitor if it was in her best interest. He knew there had to be more to the story though and he would find out later what it was. The next message was for him to report to the ISN Retribution as soon as he returned. This message was sent from Shadow and was marked urgent. His Quaestor was on the Retribution? Now that was a strange development. Maybe she was helping the new Emperor settle in to his or her job. He would find out soon enough. Ric brought up the shuttle schedule and logged a flight to take him to the Scholae Palatinae flagship. He hoped to finally find out everything that had gone on in his absence. Ric sent a short message to Mal and warned him if he didn’t return that he was to get Keira and Major Harkness and flee the system. He had seen purges before when a new ruler came to power in the clan and didn’t want to be caught in one if he could avoid it. Ric changed out of his armor and settled took a quick shower. He dressed in his robes and attached his dual lightsabers to his belt. Once he was ready, he left for the hanger and whatever waited for him.

ISN Retribution - Seraph Orbit

The shuttle landed on the hanger deck without incident. Ric could feel something in the air, some sort of current that he couldn’t quite pin down. It was a cross between excitement and fear. It was mildly unsettling to be totally honest.
He checked in with the deck officer to log his arrival and was told to report to the Emperors shipboard throne room. Ric made his way to the turbolifts and within a few moments entered the Royal Deck area of the ship. As he approached the throne room, the two Royal Guards blocked his path.
“I was summoned,” Ric said, handing over his identification. They scanned him with the palm mounted sensors and without a word stepped aside to let him pass. The doors to the throne room swished open and Ric entered quietly. He approached the throne and knelt before it. It the shadows, the figure sitting on the throne motioned him forward. Ric stood and approached the darkened throne.
Ric couldn’t conceal the shock on his face as he recognized Shadow Nighthunter. His Quaestor had become Empress. 
“My Empress, what shall you have of me?” Ric said as he bowed his head.
“What I have always needed of you. Service and loyalty,” Shadow replied.
“As always, whatever is needed,” Ric felt a bit more at ease now. 
“I do have a job for you. I need to to take the Quaestor position in Imperium. Now more than ever, especially after the recent events in the war, we need to be aware of all threats, both from within and without,” Shadow continued. “We need to rebuild Imperial Intelligence and to watch all.”
Ric had spent years with the Intelligence Division while he had served the remnant. He was sure he could fulfil this task. 

“Anything for the Empire, my Empress,” Ric replied. He seemed to have a lot of work cut out for him but at least he was secure and not in danger of being purged. “Now go and begin your work,” Shadow dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Ric bowed and turned to leave. “I know you’ve got this,” She said as he neared the door. “I won’t fail you,” Ric said as he exited the chamber.

Ric looked over the after action reports from the war and was shocked to see some of the things that had happened. He wished he had been here for it but knew that there was really nothing that he could have done to prevent most of the damage that had been done. All he could do was to move forward and build his network up. “Let's do this,” Ric said aloud to his empty office.

Major Hector Ricmore Clan Vizsla Immobilizer-418 Class Heavy Cruiser Zsoldos System, Wild Space

A lone figure walked through the hallway, a jaunty tune spilling from his lips. The tune was interrupted by the sharp Clack! Clack! Of armored footsteps. He moved at a steady pace, in no rush to arrive at his destination despite his jovial mood. The crew members of the ship granted him a respectful berth, in part due to his rank, but mostly due to his reputation for being an eccentric if effective officer.

Hector Ricmore, Major of the Iron Legion, was quite pleased. His commission and battlefield promotion had allowed him to afford a new ship, the new A Wing variant currently being utilized by the Resistance in their fight against the First Order. Having a newer vessel was quite exciting for the Pilot, after utilizing an ancient YT-1300 and dealing with the temperamental prototype of the TIE Advanced V1.

The Zygerrian could not help but break out into a smirk as he gazed upon his vessel. 7.68 meters long, with a central cockpit within the long wedge shape. 1 laser canon was attached to each side, with a pair of missile launchers completing the armament. Painted metallic black, with purple stripes and sigils, the A Wing was both aesthetically pleasing and an impressive ship.

Hector settled into the cockpit of the vessel and began his preflight checks. He was pleased to note that the weapons were operational, engine functioning as normal, and the navigational computer had already been set for his trip to Arx. Turning on his on board comm unit he contacted the Immoblizer’s bridge. “Bridge control this is the Lament, are we clear for the test flight?” The comm unit crackled in response. “You are clear, Godspeed Lament.”

The hangar doors opened wide, allowing the A wing to swiftly exit the capital ship. Hector activated the hyperdrive, the blackness of space replaced by rushing stars. Reaching down the Zygerrian grabbed his data pad, opening his chronometer and setting an alarm for when he would arrive. Trusting in his hyperdrive to get him to his destination he settled down to sleep.

Some Time Later

The shrill ringing of his alarm roused Hector Ricmore from his rest. Blinking drowsily he shut off the alarm before gazing outside his vessel, where stars continued to pass by at an alarming rate. “...What.” The Zygerrian mumbled in confusion, he should have reached Arx by now. “Are you working properly?” He questioned, inspecting his data pad. The chronometer appeared accurate and he could not seem to find any fault with the device. “The ship itself then? I swear if I bought defective junk for this price.” The Zygerrian began the process of once again inspecting his ship. Engine working fine, weapons operational, shields online. With growing horror, he looked at his nav computer. “Don’t tell me. Not this. Not the only time I let someone on my ship.”

A thorough inspection of the Nav computer proved those fears to be true. The set course for Arx had merely been a static screen programmed by a slicer, the vessel had actually been set to reach Nar Shadda. Traveling to the Outer Rim was a longer journey than moving between the two set points in Wild Space, causing the discrepancy in Hector’s alarm.

The pilot chuckled. “A sabotaged Nav computer? That’s fine. I was actually worried that we had a technician so incompetent that they could not program a Nav computer properly.” A smirk spread across his lips “This is turning into quite the adventure”

Picking up his datapad he began to sketch out a route back to Zsoldos from Nar Shaddaa. “Let’s see what happens” Hector assured himself.

A Few Days Later

Lament, Cry of the Stars dropped out of hyperspace in front of Nar Shaddaa. Debris ringed the cesspool of a planet, interspersed by the occasional vessel, no doubt up to some nefarious or criminal task.

Hector’s eyes narrowed when he saw some of these vessels approaching; an Aurore Class freighter flanked by 2 HH-87 Starhoppers. Were these ships in league with the saboteur who sliced into his ship?

His comm unit crackled to life. “Hector Ricmore of The Dark Jedi Brotherhood, you have amassed quite a bounty upon yourself. Surrender now and we will make your death quick and painless. Choosing to resist will only prolong your agony. We do hope you pick the second one, it’s been a while before my boys and I had some fun.”

Not bothering to dignify that with a response Hector pushed the A Wing full throttle towards the freighter. Pshew Pshew Pshew! The A wing fired its laser canons. “Wait for it” Hector muttered to himself as he rapidly closed the distance between himself and the enemy vessels; who currently began to return fire. The A wing dipped and dived, avoiding the oncoming blaster fire.

The distance between the ships decreased until Hector could see the pilot within the Freighter. “NOW!” He thought as he fired the proton torpedos aboard his ship, replacements to the usual missiles carried by such a vessel.

Hector pushed his flight stick forward, turning on its ion afterburner for additional speed. The Zygerrian was thrown back into his seat from the sudden acceleration, gripping his flight stick with gritted teeth as he tried to retain some semblance of control over his ship. A sudden shockwave ran through his entire ship and sent a shiver down Hector’s spine. “I’ll take that was a success then.” The Zygerrian said aloud.

He spun his vessel around to deal with the HH-87 Starhoppers. Charred wreckage filled his vision, the freighter and starhoppers reduced to slag floating through space. Hector’s jaw dropped. “Proton Torpedos alone should not have carried enough of a blast to destroy all three ships. What on earth was that?” He hadn’t yet targeted the Starhoppers so it was doubtful it was anything involving them.

“The ships nav was sabotaged, could the saboteur have gotten to the torpedo’s as well? But that makes no sense, why would a saboteur bother doing something that could increase my firepower and my chances of escaping the bounty hunters?”

That left the Freighter than. “...were the hunters carrying something unstable aboard? Did they actually expect to win an engagement while carrying something explosive?” Putting his helmet into his hand Hector gave a sigh at the sheer stupidity he had encountered.

“Hopefully Declan can help me sort this all out. I’m certain he has contacts over at the bounty office.” Hector flipped on his nav computer and set his course for Zsoldos, triple checking that the course was accurate this time. “Let’s head home Lament.”

After the skull and bones from the Nightflyers was found in several neighborhoods in the sector, it was apparent that there was work to be done. People had forgotten who their real masters were. That in itself wasn’t a problem, as it actually translated into an opportunity, especially for a counter-intelligence member who was looking at a new life away from the imperial propaganda machine. As Scholae’s former spymaster, Calindra still had a good amount of resources at her disposal. She had eyes and ears, all over the galaxy, especially in Caperion.

With Empress Elincia’s death and Scholae’s invasion of Meraxis so prevalent in the media of late, it was only natural that people would start testing Excidium’s hold on the underground economy. The Nightflyers being one such group that had splintered off from the imperial tree within weeks of the Empress’ death. Perhaps they believed that the new empress had better things to do while she tended her garden to the northwest, or that she would be too busy with her transition to power, choosing a color palette for her new chambers. Fact was, the Empress was busy, but the other members of her inner circle as it was, carried out business as usual. The overlords, hadn’t forgotten, even if their ambitious and rebellious underlings might have decided to test their leashes.

It was obvious at the meeting of the Seraphi-Ragni (what the locals called the crime bosses that controlled the Seraph and Ragnath respectively) that some of the Seraphi and Ragnathi bosses had turned their backs on the Caperi Crime Syndicate families, not realizing that there were actual overlords to respect. 

Calindra had remained unmoving as she listened from the shadows. Unaware of the intruder in the room, the group argued with some of the loyalists, some touting the white and purple skull with Excidium’s inverted E on their jackets.

 “Vin,” grumbled a grisened Weequay, “last month we requested that you come up with some weapons deal with the Hutts, what’s the status?”

Openly defiant, a bald headed human reclined and put his feet on the table. “See that boys? The greying Weequay still thinks he’s in charge…” Calindra’s eyes smouldered as a little less than half of those gathered around the table started chuckling.

Vin, as he was called, suddenly stood up. “Times are changing, Lal’ro. It’s time you finally acknowledge the new boys in town. And we’re here to stay… in fact,” Vin started as he slowly and menacingly made his way towards the head of the table, “I think you should step down, and let someone who’s obviously got you beat take the lead.”

Lal’ro glared up at the human menacingly: “You don’t know what you’re messing with, Vin. I suggest you and your ‘boys’ get in line before a bigger fish mak-“

Whatever the Weequay was about to say, the words were suddenly cut off when Vin’s fist had hit him in the mouth, “I won’t ask you again, Lal.” A vibroknife suddenly appeared in the human’s hand, which he brandished menacingly under the Weequay’s nose.

Calindra suddenly stepped out of the shadows, her cloaked figure’s sudden appearance causing a stir around the table. “Wow, Vin..! you really won’t listen to reason?” Her footsteps echoed around the chamber as she approached the table, some relief clearly showing on Lal’ro’s face.

“Who… what… I don’t know how you got in or who you are, but you’re not gonna change anything here, girl,” Vin growled as he turned to face her with his blade.

From under her cowl, Calindra’s smooth jawline, feminine lips turned into a menacing smile as she faced off with the traitor.

“Oh… look at that boys, Vin thinks he’s in charge…”

This earned Calindra some uncomfortable groans from Vin’s supporters around the table, and a collective silence from the others. Lal’ro for his part was about to take advantage while Vin had his back turned, but he noticed Calindra’s warning not to interfere and sat back down in his chair.

“The Nightflyers are gonna take what’s rightfully theirs!” Vin growled as he stepped towards Calindra.

Calindra’s head tilted sideways, as if considering Vin before she lifted her left hand towards him. Vin was suddenly lifted in the air from where he stood, powerless in Calindra’s telekinetic grip.

“I agree, the Nightflyers are ‘gonna’ have a seat around this table, but you are not going to be heading them anymore, Vin.”

With a wave of her hand, Vin flew from where he was floating and was violently slammed against the far wall, his screams resounding around the room. He flew again across the room, over the table to everyone horrified looks, many of them ducking as Vin screamed and bellowed as he sailed in front of them. His scream was interrupted by the loud sound his body made as he hit the other wall, his vibroknife clattering to the floor. His clearly bruised and broken body sailed through the air again, and landed loudly on the table in front of his terrified supporters.

“Nightflyers,” she said menacingly to everyone in the room. “In case I did not make myself clear, Excidium will not tolerate dissent amongst the Seraphi-Ragni, or anyone else within the organization,” she said as she looked at each of Vin’s old supporters to ensure the message got through, she then turned to the rest of those assembled, taking a softer tone as she addressed them. “As of now, the Nightflyers’ leaders will report directly to me, and everyone in my organization will keep their good manners at these meetings.” 

She turned towards Lal’ro as she took Vin’s old seat, “I apologize for our former leader’s outbursts. We will report back on the Hutt Arms deal at the next meeting, Chairman.”

Lal’ro look up from the bloody body on the table, and blinked several times as he took the time to digest what just happened. He inclined his head respectfully towards Calindra, and resumed the meeting.

The tale can only be told with a roaring fire place and a glass of chilled whiskey. Of how Ahsik Warren, fabled warrior in the making, sole survivor and Sith illusionist, was entirely and singlehandedly spooked in his first week of enrolling into the shadow academy.

It was three days after being assigned to his Master and house, Ahsik had set on the first task he had in mind: to learn all he could and find his place in the world he had immersed himself. Deep in the warfare and galactic histories section Ahsik had made a comfy home after 4 hours of study.

From the little table he had claimed there was a brief moment the zabrak had looked up from his holo records, several spread sparely across his table, and decided to rest his eyes. As he began to snooze away with his hand under his chin there was a chilling sound.

“AHHHH!!” “WHY? MOTHER WHY ARE YOU HERE!?!”

The random sounds and shouts coming from each isle and from the lower floors, Ahsik had been very very much shocked into a lucid state. Blood now pumping the Sith jumped from his seat and reached the site of the nearest scream, coming from the front desk. “Hey! Anybody here? You okay?” Ahsik said, approaching the knocked over chairs. The sound of muffled crying was coming from under the counter. “Hey, what happened are you okay?” Ahsik asked, approaching.

As he neared he heard a door swing open, a chiss woman with a pair of half broken glasses hanging off her ears. “It’s tHERE RUN AWAY!” The woman cried with tears in her eyes. Ahsik had throughly, and immediately dropped his stomach into the basement of deep dark secrets under the academy. “gRRrRrrrr, RArarrrrr” The sound of twisted snarling began behind the Sith. The sound of it like a serrated knife on chalkboard, grinding his vertebrae together and piercing the skin of his ears. Thoughts and memories of crying and desperate whimpering came to mind, as his neck and left shoulder began to ache.... “no..” Ahsik had spoken in soft tones, turning to what was under the desk. What he saw was the growing form of a blood red hound, not even like a wolf. As those someone has taken the skin of an rhino and slicked it with blood, the maw full of razor sharp teeth and more rows than a shark. It’s nose was like a boar wolf, risked and it’s ears ended in long barbed tentacles. Hairless and snarling it’s drool pooling on the floor. Ahsik stood once more before the figure of a Sith hound, the creature that had forged his fate with its sleeping presence, and had taken away the entirety of his home, what he spent 2 years hunting out of vengeance, a living nightmare that had ended a year ago. But like the nightmares he wrestles every night, and like the waking nightmare he lived through. It. Was. Back.

“aaah... AHHHHHH. GRRAAGHGHAH!” The conflicted sound that left the man’s mouth was torn between terror, hate and adrenaline. “RRAWWHH” The beast pounced on him, teeth bared and reaching for his throat. Ahsik’s reaction had only been saved by the voice of his ancestors in his heart, telling him to act. To fight. Raising his electro staff halves, they were ignited, and with a cry of his own he leaped to reach the creature in the air, “AGGH!” The maw of the beast was stuffed with a rod of steel and lightning, it’s claws managing to only scratch Ahsik’s left arm, already turned to steel and lost to teeth like these long ago. “I.. I already killed you, All if you YOU WILL NOT RISE TO TAKE ANOTHER HOME FROM ME!” The beast was disoriented, and Ahsik stood with eyes blazing, literally glowing with the dark side of the force. He raised a single hand to the creature, and with a gesture forced into its mind something worse than death. “RaWRaw... Rrra...ahah..” The beast was crying in its pain. Ahsik had known full well that beasts like these had experienced torture from Sith Lords, often in the form of force lightning. While not able to conjure such a storm, Ahsik was more then adept at making people experience what they expected. The more the creature writhed, the less it looked the same. It’s skin became smoke, and it’s color was all but lost, like a puddle of water it lost all form. All but a pair of eyes, staring back in pain and unable to blink. Ahsik saw two pupils in each eye, then 3 then 6 then 10, then it looked as if those pain stricken eyes were endless. Before such sorrow Ahsik was stunned, then the smoke formed a man shaped beast and leaped clear over him. It was a man now, running for its life, bright colored dots lining its spine and running on its limbs, it ran and never looked back.

Though many days and reports explaining what and why that day happened, Ahiks would never forget the look of a true boggart, not should he.

Revak Kur 12656

A Small Layover

Revak slowly walked down the ramp of his Lambda class shuttle and quietly made his way down the long corridors of Pharos station. He could hear the joy and excitement of the other members of the Clan off in the distance but chose not to partake in any of the festivities. Not just yet. He handles war well but gets drained after long deployments. He needs his time to relax and unwind. Revak made his way to his chamber and pressed his keycard against the security pad. It beeped at him but didn’t open. Tired and aggravated, he leaned his head against the door in defeat. 

“Why doesn’t anything work around here?” he mumbled to himself.

He could open the keypad and tinker with the locking mechanism but chose not to. Instead he thinks of another place he could sit and rest. Pharos station, while being a military outpost did have a small garden area people could go that was peaceful. Chances are it was occupied. He reached under his robes and pulled out his comlink.

“Kur to Maintenance.”

“Maintenance on, go ahead.”

“I'm locked out again.”

“... okay, sending someone down.”

Moments later a human male approaches. He looked just as tired as Revak, worn out from long hours of repairs.

“This one seems to be getting the best of us, eh?” the man said jokingly to break the tension.

Revak struggled to smile slightly at the man’s statement. He didn’t want to be rude to the tired man but he just couldn’t muster enough energy for anything more.

After a couple minutes of the man tinkering with the keypad; the door opened.

“There you go Sir, I’ll be around in case you need anything.”

Revak thanked the man then walked inside. He tossed the comlink on the bed. The door slammed behind him.

In the room were a few personal items. Moving around as much as the House does, he tries to keep only what he needs with him so he can quickly pack up and head out again. The room has a bed, a locker for supplies, a computer kiosk, and a particularly comfortable chair that he stole from one of the other chambers when he was first stationed here. He could sit in it for hours and time would just pass by. He walked over to it, ran his hand over the soft leather arm and sat down. He closed his eyes and was lost in his mind.

Memories of the war appeared to him first. Moments that stood out. People that he encountered. Especially those who he would never see again. Sadness began to radiate through him. His body sank in the seat. The screams of the civilians. The hissing of lightsabers and blaster bolts. The explosions that silenced them all.

In his mind he gathered himself and his thoughts began to drift in another direction. He began to look back at all the decisions he made. Critique his actions. He viewed failure as a learning experience but it still pained him to make mistakes. This is why he favored quiet reflection over immediate celebration. He could look back and see where he could have made other choices. Possibly saving more lives. Lives that he would not have to blame himself for losing. This sadness that he felt, he never showed anyone. He kept it hidden especially from those under his command. Not that he was ashamed of it, just that he had to maintain an image of strength to help propel his command forward. He cleared his mind to allow these feelings to take hold of him. To bask in the darkness that these emotions bring.

Bing!

Revaks concentration broke as his comlink notified him of an incoming message. He reached out with the Force, took hold of the comlink and placed it on his lap before answering it.

“Revak, get out of your head and come celebrate.” his Aedile Tisto shouted obnoxiously loud so he could be heard over the loud music in the background.

Revak took a second to get back into the present before he responded, “Yeah, I’ll be down in a second.”

He stood up, fixed his robes then walked back over to the door. Instead of opening for him it let out two loud beeps.

He let out a long sigh.

Constantine Pin 10484 Clan Vizlsa

Hi l don’t have much time, but l have a story to tell you!. And yes l am talking to you, the young guy in the dark robe trying to look cool in the bar corner, sitting there with no drink!, here have a drink on me Mister. Right now l have your attention, it all began when my Clan leader sent me on a mission, to grab as much jewels and gold from the other, Clans of the brotherhood, it was a top secret mission of course but l didn’t know that it was a smash and grab, and get the hell out of the brother-hood, as fast as you can job, l thought l could stay and settle, no chance not for me!. Anyway l went round the usual places, you know back yards, got a hit on a few keys, for some serious, loot. Another drink bud, you look as though you need one!. Anyway here you go, my friend!, where was l oh yes! The loot and keys l found the keys to a high profile Clan. I think it’s called Clan Arcona, some House called Qel-Droma, or something like that l thought this would be an easy job, in out and gone, but what did l know l thought l was doing a good job and doing right by my leader, but you know when the nurf hits the fan it goes. This was a really good set up by someone, l don’t know it smelled like someone, was given a tip off. And Pazza! They tired to get me, next thing l know, ha l was on a Wanted Poster 5000 credits, would you believe, and Guess who put it out, Bud l bet you can’t guess. The Big Chef himself, GrandMaster Mav, Jes l never knew l was so popular, lol. Well l suppose you want me to go with you now, Along that Green Mile, well l have nothing to do but sit here and wait for the clock to tick. Yeah they got me good, and stitched up so tight you need a light saber to cut the bag open, l don’t why l fall for it but l fall for every time. Well Gov, you know what they say” it’s a fair cop Gov, lol”. Oh one last drink before we go, shall we make it a large one this time, l got another tale to tell you! . Oh but that can wait for another time, Gov finished your drink all ready, Okay l am coming Gov, don’t rush me now! Got all the time in the Universe, l sure the burner can wait a bit, longer just for me lol!. O there’s the Minister wanting his coin and he say a prayer for you!. Well here you Sir 15 credit coin for you, to say the last prayer for me Sir, Well that’s the last you here from old Constantine, nice talking to you Warden Minister, and it’s Goodbye from me!.

The sunrise never really bothered Zodac, the warmth of light offered a comfort he was rarely able to feel. It felt surreal in its own right, like it wasn’t actually happening; as if some heavenly savior was coming down to save this sinner from himself, but Zodac knew he was not worthy of such things. He was a filthy mercenary, taking odd jobs merely to sustain himself, scrounging for scraps like an animal - not that he was far from one.

This morning, however, he felt no comfort. Instead, a cold, constant breeze that brought goosebumps to his exposed arms. This foreign feeling opened the eyes of the nomad instantly, his arm reaching up, his finger instinctively making a pulling motion, but to no avail. No shots were fired and all was silent, and in the heat of the moment, he was convinced he was somehow robbed of his only possessions, the gear he bore and the clothes on his back. To his utter dismay, as the realization of his situation set in, he was not in some dark room he would have rented from a tapster for cheap with a bed as hard as stone. He discovered it to be a dorm eerily similar to those on Jedha from when he was a hovertank commander.

He looked down at his hands to find the scars that blanketed his body had all but disappeared, skin as soft as it was in days long past. Zodac trembled, eyes darting all about the room, the muffled sound of music blaring from behind a closed door nearby. His clothes had changed too, from his usual get-up of armor and dirty clothes to clean, fresh leisure-wear, supplied from the Empire. Moping toward the sound, he felt a lump in his throat, tremble present, face white as a grand admiral uniform. His steps were careful and slow, heart palpitating, something he hadn’t felt since the battle on Jakku.

Pushing open a creaking old door, he was instantly able to make out the faces of soldiers that had previously been under his command. The lot of them, who were once as young as he, were sitting around a crate playing sabacc without a worry in the world. Viera, the woman he loved, sat there with a joyous smile, as beautiful as he remembered. Perhaps even more so, now that he was able to see her in the flesh. The squeak of the door's hinges brought the eyes of everyone onto him, and a smile to all of their faces.

“Commander, commander! Come, join us! We’ve just begun!” Eli called, the youngest of the soldiers, raising his hand and patting the seat beside him. Zodac blinked a few times, his heart beating as rapidly as it could. His breathing became heavy, eyes darting from face to face.

Everyone was… happy.

Now panting like a dog, a tear ran down his cheek. Not of joy to see the people he had cared for the most, the people who forever stained his memory, but of fear. This was not a reality. His soldiers had fallen before him, many of which he held as they gave their final breaths.

To be honest, he didn’t know what it was, but he knew it wasn’t real.

“Commander?”

With a heavy heart and a trembling jaw, he shakily nodded as to acknowledge the young man.

“Will you join us?” The voice echoed, eyes of the dead gazing upon him.

There was no response.

Tears hit the floor with no indication they would stop. Zodac walked to a door that lead to the outdoors, but it was locked. He violently shook the door, but it rattled and nothing more. Some of the men stood in concern for their commander, but his wide eyes gazed upon them.

“None of us have been able to leave. We called for help some time ago, but nobody's come ‘round. Playin’ cards to kill time. Come on, play a few hands and we’ll be out soon, no biggie. Just sit down.” One said, approaching Zodac.

“Stay the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away from me!” He screamed, trying to push the soldier back. “Don’t you fucking dare approach me!” He cried out, his voice cracking.

Viera stood, her hands up, trying to calm the crazed commander down. Her soft words were soothing, but they were not real. None of this was real. He must have died in his sleep he thought, been killed or something, and he was unsure if he was in heaven or hell here among his soldiers, people who he once called friends. Among people he loved, who had died because of his loyalty to a tyrant. Whatever god waited above knew of this sinner, whose atrocities could never be forgotten or forgiven, and has cast judgement.

A tortured soul, who filled the shell of a hollow person. If this was heaven, he thought, he'd rather be in hell.

The others stood and rushed to Zodac, a scream of terror filling the air. They grabbed him, attempting to hold his arms to his sides and grabbing his kicking legs, bringing their commander to the ground. He continued to claw at the arms that appeared to hold him down, but his resistance was futile. Unable to move even an inch, he was beginning to run short on breath. Zodac felt light headed, but continued to kick and scream, desperate.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and was surrounded by people, not his peers, but strangers who had gathered to watch the insane man kick around and yell in his sleep. Some had come to help as well, trying to force Zodac awake by shaking him. Laying among filth in an alley, he sat up panting and looking at those who surrounded him.

“Go on, git. Nothin’ more to see.” He called out. While the small crowd went along, a few stayed to make sure the human wasn’t on death sticks or anything similar. He assured them he would be fine, that it was merely a night terror, and to move on.

After they had finally left, Zodac propped himself against the wall, and sunk his face into his hands. Though he tried his damndest not to, he began to cry. As the morning light took Zodac into its warm embrace, he felt no comfort. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to feel at all.

Plagueis: Adapt, Ascend, Avail Under our Dread Lord, we won't fail! We will make our enemies wail As the dark side helps us prevail!

For Sadow! For Sadow! Our battle cry, For Sadow! For Sadow! We do or we die.

For Glory! For Glory! With all our might, For Glory! For Glory We will win the fight.

For Honour! For Honour! Together we go, For Honour! For Honour! We will slay the foe.

For Victory! For Victory! Cowardice is a sin, For Victory! For Victory! Go forward and win!

Nightmares & Dreamscapes

Research Site Planet Morak

Sergeant Lorgan sat making the final checks to her equipment as the shuttle made it's final approach towards the planets surface. She looked up at the platoon who were doing likewise. She stood up from his place on the benches either side of the cabin. “Alright boys and girls this is it. We make landfall and move out. This might be nothing or it might be something serious. Either way we remember we're the best platoon in the best company in the Warhost. Do you hear me?” “Yes ma'am!” they responded. “Officer on deck,” Lorgan announced as she stood and saluted, the other eighteen members of the platoon doing likewise. The officer in question was Lieutenant Treger. Twenty years old and determined to prove himself in what was his first solo command. “At ease,” he said as clearly as possible and waited until they sat down again. “Okay platoon here is the situation. We are inbound to the planet Morak to investigate why our research station has gone quiet. The last communication we had from them was five days ago and reported normally. It is entirely possible they have a communications problem they have been able to fix. If that is the case we will lend any assistance possible to get them back online. If however it is not that simple then we will do whatever is necessary to determine what and resolve the situation.” “Whatever that may be,” a voice said from the corner of the cabin. An armoured figure was stood leant against the wall, swaddled in a black cloak. He had drawn curious glances from the platoon when he had unexpectedly boarded as they departed the ISD Perdition. After a quick conversation with the officer and the sergeant he had withdrawn to quiet corner of the shuttle and rebuffed all attempts at conversation. Now he detached himself and walked calmly to the centre of the cabin. “Listen to me all of you. I am Malisane Sadow, some of you may have heard of me.” The sudden serious reaction around the room indicated they had. “The Morak research site is of extreme interest to the Clan we serve. As your officer and your NCO have indicated the fact it has gone quiet is a matter of concern to us. The nature of the work being done here is not your concern, only that it is of the highest secrecy. I am here to ensure the security of this mission. Anything you find out of the ordinary you will report to your lieutenant, sergeant or myself. Anything you see you will not share with anyone outside this platoon until you are debriefed. . The consequences for doing otherwise will be grave.” “I am sure we all understand that do don't we?” Sergeant Lorgan asked loudly. “Yes sergeant!” the platoon responded. Lorgan glanced over at a right light which had begun to flash. “Alright this is it.”

The shuttle landed and immediately the platoon disembarked, forming into squads. At an order from the sergeant four of the troopers moved into position flanking the ramp. The rest of the platoon made their way across the rocky ground towards a squat fabricated building fifty metres away. Malisane walked beside the lieutenant as the sun shone down on the approaching building, the metal glinting in the light. Ahead of them Sergeant Lorgan lead the way, looking to her left to her left at a trooper who was carrying a scanner, concentrating on it. Malisane heard the trooper say something to the sergeant who raised her voice, “No signs of life in the immediate area sir,” she advised, “and no sign of power from the building either.” Lieutenant Treger nodded and glanced at the Sith who appeared unphased by the news. “Ok we proceed with caution, sergeant send a squad in to investigate and secure the perimeter building.” “You heard the lieutenant,” Lorgan said loudly, “A squad proceed on target. B and D Squad circle the perimeter and report anything.” Cautiously holding their rifles ready the squad of four troopers approached the building. One of them placed a hand on the panel next to the door. There was no response. Carefully with his squad members ready he tried the door which slid open as he pulled it. Immediately a light illuminated on his blaster rifle and helmet as the squad entered the building. Malisane and Treger waited while Sergeant Lorgan listened to her communicator. After a few seconds she turned. “It's secure but they've found something sir.”

Leaving the remaining squad outside the officer, the NCO and the Sith made their way inside, turning on their own lights. Inside the entrance to the building was dark, and the area was quiet except for their footsteps. Malisane's display flashed as he looked round the room and regarded the trooper who was crouched next to a mass which was clearly a body. “There are more in here,” another trooper reported from a nearby room. Malisane joined the trooper. The corpse was wearing the armour of the Warhost, similar to the troopers with them. The surface of the chest was ripped, leaving a long tear in the metal covered in dried blood which had pooled out onto the floor. Malisane felt an unusual unsettled feeling. He stood and walked into the nearby room. It was a laboratory. One of the troopers was assembling a more powerful light from his backpack which eventually illuminated the room in a soft light. It was a laboratory, with several benches around the room and a large machine at one end and several cabinets. Another trooper was examining a white suited body on the floor whose clothing was soaked with blood, while another dead trooper lay by the machine. “There's more in the personnel quarters,” Lieutenant Treger said quietly as he entered the room. “All ours, all deceased and they've all been ripped by someone or something.” Malisane could feel fear and queasiness radiating off the young officer. “Anything else?” “The generator has been smashed,” Treger replied, “the sergeant is assessing the nature of the damage but she says it doesn't look good.” Malisane crouched by the body of the second trooper. He picked up the blaster rifle held in the corpse's hand and examined it, then glanced at the wall. “He was shooting at something,” the Sith mused as his gaze tracked around to the wall, “the shots were erratic whatever he shot was moving quickly.” Treger nodded. “It looks like it yes. We should secure this building then report back. With the power down here that means the shuttle.” Malisane stood. “Very well.”

Back on the shuttle Lieutenant Vorcer sat in the pilot's chair. She was reading a datapad calmly while her co pilot was in the back making drinks in the tiny galley. She thumbed the communicator to she troopers stood outside. “Anything going on out there?” “Negative ma'am,” the reply came back, “all quiet.” “Very well,” she replied. She turned her head. “Is it coming Drack?” “Nearly ready ma'am,” the co pilot replied, “you like it strong.” “Yeah make sure it is,” she replied back in a mock stern voice. “Affirmative ma'am.” She smiled as she sat back. After a few seconds she hit the communicator again. “Hey do you guys want some refreshments out there?” she asked. She paused listening. “Hey can you hear me?” She frowned studying the display. “Drack the comms might be playing up again, get in here.” She waited again. “Drack!” She pushed herself out of the chair and turned. Then she froze in horror at what was in front of her. Then she felt a brief second of agony as claws pierced her chest.

Malisane waited outside the building while the sergeant was giving orders to her troopers. “A Squad remain in the building keep working on the generator. D Squad secure the exterior. I want regular reports. B and C with us.” Treger was also waiting. “Alright with us. Keep your eyes peeled. Whoever did this might be long gone or they may be around. Once we've reported back we'll make a wider search. Malisane could still feel the lieutenant's nervousness, which was also radiating to a lesser extent off the other troopers. He felt an apprehension himself, an emotion he was not used to. There was something familiar about all of this. He followed the officer and the NCO as the two squads fanned out either side of them, studying the empty rocky landscape for signs of life. Treger was on the communicator. “Lieutenant Vorcer, this is Lieutenant Treger we are returning. Please prepare for a transmission back to the fleet.” He paused. “Please come in Vorcer.” There was still no reply. He turned to the Sergeant who had stopped. “This is damn peculiar.” Sergeant Lorgan was looking ahead suspiciously at the shuttle. “E Squad should be outside. Where the hell are they?” She clicked her communicator. “Lorgan to E Squad, why aren't you at your posts?” After a few seconds of silence she raised her voice. “Gormer, Arnock, any of you, report.” “There's something here,” Treger said quietly. Malisane focused. “I can not feel anything ahead.” “Scanner,” the sergeant snapped at one of her troopers. “Negative sergeant,” the trooper replied, “no movement, no sign of life.” He made an adjustment. “And no power signals sergeant.” “The hell,” she muttered. She glanced at the lieutenant who was staring at the quiet ship, it's ramp still down. “D Squad anything at your end?” “All quiet sergeant.” “Proceed cautiously,” Treger ordered. “Just as the lieutenant says,” the sergeant ordered, “keep them peeled.” Slowly the three of them moved forward, one of the squads moving in front of them and the other splitting to flank them.

Malisane could sense something faint now, something unnatural. He drew his sword, gripping it as he followed the troopers, trying to make sense of what he could feel. “Blood here,” a trooper reported near the ramp, “lots of it, leading inside.” Lorgan looked up the ramp, her rifle aimed inside. “They're in there.” “But what?” the Lieutenant asked nervously. “There is only one way to find out.” Malisane watched as the Sergeant lead a squad inside. He was still trying to sense what was in there. Then he heard the familiar sound of blasters firing and he made for the ramp quickly, sword raised. Then something hit him, a grey shape that smashed him out of the way as it bounded past, sending him crashing to the rocky floor and his sword tumbling from his fingers. Two troopers fired and blaster bolts scorched flesh before it was amongst them, lashing out with it's long arms and claws rending through flesh. Malisane quickly rolled to his feet, his hand going to his lightsaber and igniting it as he could hear more blaster fire as the troopers from outside the building nearby began to run forward, shooting. He looked around and saw a grey flash as whatever was there leapt onto the roof of the shuttle. The Sith moved quickly to follow, turning to try and follow it's movement and then he froze.

From on top of the upper wing of the shuttle something perched. Malisane stood holding his saber in his hand as he looked up at it. “Not here,” he murmured, “it can't be.” Slowly the reptilian eyes moved from the approaching troopers to focus on the Sith and they slowly narrowed in recognition. Then it leapt. Malisane stood frozen as the grey shape dropped towards him, his vision absorbing every familiar feature as the grey scaled reptilian filled his vision before he moved by instinct alone, leaping aside creature slashed at him, claws tearing his cloak as it swirled behind him. The creature landed and leapt again as Malisane swung the saber towards it, slicing the blade along the skin but not piercing. Blaster bolts hit the creature as it landed knocking it forward slightly but glancing off the scaled flesh. The creature turned as the troopers reached it and fired. Malisane watched, emotion raging through him, watching it leapt towards them with a morbid fascination. Then he felt a hand grip his own, dragging him. He vision snapped around as he saw the armoured figure of Lieutenant Treger. “We must retreat.” Malisane raged with emotions. He ran from nothing, he had faced all the Clan's enemies alone or alongside his fellows with confidence or a determination not to back down in the face of even overwhelming odds. But this was something else. He turned and with the Lieutenant ran up the ramp, two troopers firing at the creature as they followed. As it moved for them Malisane lashed out with the force, smashing it as hard as he could at the creatures chest sending it sprawling backwards. “Emergency lock,” he shouted and one of the troopers wrenched a lever on the wall, and the mechanism dragged the ramp up, closing it with a loud clash of metal. Malisane fell back against the metal wall, his heart racing. Then slowly he sank to the floor, pulling off his helmet as he gasped for air. He rested his head against the wall staring at the wall opposite, his heart racing in his chest and the smell of blood in his nostrils sickening.

Lieutenant Treger looked around the dark cabin, his light ignited again. The floor was covered in bodies, only this time these were his own troopers. He heard a groan and moved quickly forward. Sergeant Lordan was slumped on the floor clutching her side, her helmet removed revealing her pale face shrouded by short dark hair. “Sergeant are you alright?” “Just a scratch sir,” she replied weakly. “Check the cockpit,” Treger ordered loudly as he moved her hands and examined the wound under the torn metal. “It doesn't look too bad if we can patch you up you should be alright.” One of the troopers knelt by her with a medikit. “As I said just a scratch sir,” she replied, “I was the lucky one.” “Lieutenant Vorcer and the co pilot are dead sir,” the other trooper reported, “and the controls are smashed, as is the power generator.” Treger removed his own helmet, wiping a hand over his face. “Who do we have left? What about A Squad? Did they leave the building.” He clicked his communicator. “A Squad, come in A Squad. This is Lieutenant Treger, report.” There was a crackle then, “Here sir, we're still inside. The generator is fried we can't reactivate it. Do you want us to report back?” “Negative. There is an unknown hostile outside. Barricade yourselves inside as possible and await orders.” “Affirmative sir, wait sir there's..” The sound of blaster fire came over the communicator and then silence. “Are you there?” Treger demanded. A Squad, report!” “They're dead sir,” Sergeant Lordan told him weakly. “What the hell is that thing?” “It's called Firak,” a voice replied quietly.

They turned to the Sith who was sat quietly on the floor, his scarred and damaged features studying them. “You know that creature?” the Lieutenant demanded. Malisane shut his eyes, integral black lenses covering them beneath where his eyelids had been. “A long time ago I was a young Imperial officer, not much older than you. I was sent to lead a force to investigate a group of rogue scientists who were hiding on a remote planet. To protect themselves they had set up multiple defences, highly sophisticated. And something else they called Project Firak, that creature, designed to defend from or hunt force users. Strong, fast, intelligent and highly resistant to weapons and the force. As far as we can determine it killed them when we got there we found an empty facility and that creature. It wiped out most of my force before I ordered a heavy weapons strike trapping and killing it in a building. Or so I thought.” The sergeant raised her head. “I'm guessing not.” “No. A decade later it turned up in the Orian system. How we do not know we think it stowed away on a ship. We encountered it on the planet Aeotheran when we were infiltrating a group of terrorists and we fought it and once again we failed to kill it though we lost several members. It has turned up several times since with fatal results and each time we have driven it off but we can not put the thing down.” “So what is it doing here?” the Lieutenant demanded. The lenses retracted. “I have no idea.”

The Lieutenant thought for a few moments. “It's obvious we can't stop that thing, but it shouldn't be able to get in here. Procedure dictates if we do not contact command in forty eight hours they will send a company strength rescue party. They ought to be able to handle it.” “That will not help Lieutenant,” Sergeant Lordan replied weakly, propping herself up on her elbows, “the power is off. That means the oxygenerator is also off. With the ship sealed that means we have the air we came in with. We'll have suffocated before they even realised we were missing.” Treger glanced at Malisane. “So what are our options?” Malisane did not answer. His eyes were fixed on the metal floor in front of him. What could beat the creature. He had seen it shot, sabered, blown up and it healed and kept coming. If he had a party of strong Clan members he had a hope. With himself, four troopers one of which was injured and no heavy weapons what hope did he have? But his other option was to sit here and die a cowards death. That was against every instinct in his body. Finally he stood up. “I will not die like this. What weapons do we have?” “There are explosives in the munitions cabinet,” the Sergeant replied. “Show me.”

The creature crouched on a rock patiently, watching the shuttle. It could sense the force user inside, and the others as a weaker presence. Hatred surged through it. It studied the ship in front of it, memories of similar technology flicking through it's memory as it looked for a weakness that would allow it in to find it's prey and kill. Then it tensed as it saw movement in front of it. With a metallic clang the ramp dropped quickly. Firak tensed as it sensed the force user and slowly the figure walked down the ramp and the preys head turned towards the creature as their gazes met. It flexed it's limbs waiting for the moment to strike, and then it stopped, it's reptilian eyes flickering over the figure, recognising the devices strapped over the body.

Malisane looked up at the creature slowly, resisting the urge to run back into the shuttle. He would not run. Gripping the device in his hand he slowly began to walk towards the rock it perched on, hearing the ramp shut behind him as the Lieutenant and the remaining troopers winched it back up. Firak's eyes bored into him and he could sense the indecision it must feel, between the urge to kill it's prey and it's preservation instinct. He knew the creature was assessing the situation in it's reptilian brain, looking for an opening. Slowly he walked forward, moving a hand down to one of the explosive packages strapped to his chest and unclipped it. He saw the creatures eyes move to the hand watching it as slowly he drew it back. The battlelord tensed himself, and then threw the package. The explosive bounced onto the rock and then exploded, sending debris flying into the air as the creature leapt backwards, seeming to almost somersault in the air before landing smoothly. It growled at him, and began to slowly circle him. Malisane kept an eye on the creature as he gripped another package, still holding the detonator in his left hand. He began moving slowly away from the creature and the ship, keeping an eye on Firak's movements. The creature followed him, ready to move again if he threw.

Slowly the ramp lowered again and Lieutenant Treger looked out. He gestured to the troopers behind him, and slowly they made their way down the ramp, Sergeant Lordan doing her best to ignore her bandaged wounded side as the pain drugs did their work. Each gripped their rifles as they made their way across the ground, keeping their movements subtle. The creature's eyes flicked to them, judging them for any hostile intent, before they flicked back to the battlelord. At that moment Malisane threw the second explosive, and then broke into a quick jog. As the creature leapt the four troopers quickly broke into a run. Firak emerged from the explosion unscathed as it bound away, it's eyes moving from the lone Sith to the troopers as they made for the building nearby. It focused on the Sith who suddenly turned as it padded after him, then stopped again. Malisane kept his gaze fixed on the creature as out of the corner of his eye he saw the troopers make the building and head inside.

Malisane kept backing off, watching the creature as it followed him. He was becoming increasingly concerned, sweat rolling down his burned flesh beneath the armour. He was alone now. He could die at any moment. He had provoked the creature enough to possibly overide it's survival instinct. The creature was tough and resilient. The explosives on him would probably kill it if it leapt at him, but perhaps not. He was aware of it's regenerative abilities. There was no doubt though they would kill him, preferably before the claws did. He moved slowly backward, his gaze daring it to leap. It followed. Malisane stood facing it for a few seconds. Slowly he removed his helmet, meeting the creatures reptilian eyes with his own. He began to edge forward, his free hand now reaching for his saber hilt. “Come on then you think I'm afraid of you?” he demanded. He raised the blade and ignited it, holding it in one hand. “What are you waiting for?” Firak opened it's maw, showing it's fangs that glistened with dripping saliva. Then it leapt as Malisane sliced out with his saber in one hand. He felt the creature hit him and drove his blade into it's chest as his other hand pushed the detonator button and everything went quiet.

Lieutenant Tregor stood to attention as the superior officer studied him him. Around then armoured Warhost troopers were moving out to secure the nearby building. Lieutenant Colonel Senth of the Warhost regarded the scene and then his junior officer. “So you do not know what the creature was Lieutenant?” “No sir. Following the initial attack we managed to secure ourself in the shuttle and restore partial power. I had no other communication from the rest of my platoon. Only myself, Corporal Myer and Trooper First Class Devar survived, Sergeant Lordan did not regain consciousness sir and died this morning. I accept full responsibility sir.” Senth considered this, the clone had his own suspicions of the nature of the creature but was not about to share them with the junior officer. So far the searches had found nothing. “The enquiry will determine fault Lieutenant.” Treger nodded. “I understand sir.” “And the Battlelord.? “Inside sir.” Senth nodded. “Show me.”

They walked inside the smaller shuttle, pausing as two troopers carried a corpse out on a stretcher and towards the larger troop ship the reinforcements had arrived in. Senth looked around the small bloody cabin, and finally crouched down next to the cloaked figure leaned against the wall. The Sith's eyes were glazed, and his arms crossed holding his saber hilt clutched to his chest. “How long has he been like this?” “Since we sealed ourselves in sir. We have not been able to get a response from him.” The clone officer reached down and touched the Battlelords hand and tried to prise the fingers apart. “He should not be left with this.” “We tried that as well sir. We could not remove his grip.” Senth stood. “The medics will manage to get it from him, if necessary by breaking his fingers.” He turned as two more troopers entered carrying another stretcher. “Be careful with him, for your own safety as much as anyone else's.” “Yes sir.” Senth turned back to Tregor. “You will be escorted to the transport under guard. Do not speak to anyone until I arrive.” “Yes sir.”

The troopers continued to search the area, while others were removing equipment and samples from the abandoned medical building and carrying them towards the large transport. Above them on a rocky outcrop something crouched on a rock. It watched all beneath itself assessing the numbers in it's reptilian brain. This was not the time, there would be another.

No man is ever truly good No man is ever truly evil I do the things you never could And we won't ever be equal

We shall bow no knee, behold our supremacy;

To no man shall we bow, the great legacy of Sadow;

Bound by Sadow, we bear a sword, with the Dark Side and strength, his legacy we will ward;

We are together, we are Sadow, before the might of our Empire, all will bow.

when you need a clan? adapt when you need a house? ascend when you have no life? avail Who do you call? Plagueis

(To the theme of the soviet national anthem) Plagueis unwavering unmatched in our laboring no matter, we never fail Adapt, Ascend, Avail!

There once was a raider named TuQ Who wasn't a very good cook He made a few soups that gave many the poops and now tops each one's black book