Ardam's mirth was cut short by the familiar feeling of deathly fear. The fear itself didn't ruin his mood: he'd been hit with worse, and over the years he'd learned to live with the instilled terror when needs be. No, what turned his smile into a scowl of hostile concentration was the fact that the Sith was so willing to use the force on him directly. It hinted at callousness, and a certain ruthlessness that made his job much harder.

He spoke, his voice much more serious, and a mite more overtly hospitable. "The wonders of modern technology are myriad. A little creativity is all that you really need. And, of course, not an insignificant amount of ruthlessness.". The few million credits worth of 'ware and getting on eight years of experience didn't hurt. It wasn't a harder or more dangerous job than being a regular professional soldier, not really, but Ardam supposed most people didn't get lucky enough to survive their first fight, or crazy enough to look for a second.

The offer caught him almost as off guard as the tea, which he refused. He knew directness was what the "dark side" was all about, but there are certain protocols people follow when they're trying to commit treason. He'd done it more than once, albeit to much smaller organizations, after all. He wanted to tell the man to kill himself and stop asking damn fool questions, but Ardam was truly curious. And, as a last resort, the Admiral would no doubt be too.

"Not here, I'm not. I might be on the shuttle. And I'm not a bounty hunter, for the record. Follow me." Ardam hefted the girl over his shoulder, surprised he didn't hear her gasp or twitch when he accidentally knocked her broken knee with his arm. He made his way up the stairs to the flight pads, not waiting to see if the Sith was following him. The fighter he'd come down with had gone, no doubt taken by a courier or officer who needed it more. In its place was the shuttle he'd had arranged to be sent from the Bazaar. He was glad the giant ship had arrived: he hated waiting. Climbing into the white-painted three-winged junker, he waited for the sith to join him in the cockpit before he lifted off, rocketing skywards, the jedi sprawled unconscious in the rear.

Grand Admiral Vonn Sayall stood at the transparisteel window on the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer Firebrand staring out into the expanses of space. For years he has quietly been at work rebuilding the military forces of the Empire, waiting for his chance to step out of the shadows and reestablish the Empire’s grip on the galaxy. Now, after all the years of waiting, the rebirth of Imperial power was almost at hand.

The taking of Eriadu had proven to be a great test for the Empire. Even Sayall was surprised by the ease with which the Imperial forces, HIS Imperial forces had taken the planet. Though Eriadu was far from a military powerhouse, the victory was a critical one in the early days of this war…a war that the Republic did not even know it was engaged in. The taking of Eriadu was important not because it was a major military target. There was no true standing army, there were no shipyards to capture or destroy. However, Eriadu sat directly at the center of the Hydian Way and the Rimma Trade Route, disrupting one of these routes would hurt the Republic. However, disrupting both would cause the flow of supplies and other wares to slow to a trickle, and before the traitors knew what had happened, the Empire would move in to deliver the fatal blow and take its rightful place as the rightful rulers of the galaxy.

As Sayall scanned the vastness of space, he suddenly became aware of someone approaching him. Through the reflection in the transparisteel, Sayall could see that it was the captain of the Firebrand, Captain Alana Darklighter. Sayall was fond of Darklighter, she had proven time and again to be worthy of the rank that was bestowed upon her, having performed far better than many of her male contemporaries. She was cold and calculating, and had impressed Sayall with her utter ruthlessness time and again.

“Is it ready?” Sayall asked without looking away from the window.

“It is Sir. Grand Moff Dexen awaits your transmission.” She replied coolly.

“Very well, see to it that we are not disturbed.” Sayall said as he left the bridge.



Sayall entered his private chambers and took a seat at his desk. The ornate desk was made of the wood of an ancient wroshyr tree, and sat in the center of his private office. The office itself was a sight to behold, having been decorated by trophies of countless big game hunts, and having spent much of his life in the Unknown Regions of space, many of the stuffed creatures that adorned his office did not have names. However, sitting at the center of the far wall hung the skull of the almost mythical Krayt Dragon.

Sayall dimmed the lights in is chambers, and within moments, a transparent projection of Grand Moff Dexen illuminated the room. The Moff’s sharp features looked almost skeletal as Sayall looked into the man’s eyes.

“Grand Admiral, I am anxious to hear of the progress on Eriadu. I expect all went well?” The grand Moff began.
“Indeed it has, Sir.” Sayall said, nearly choking on the word “Sir.”

“What is the status report from the attack?” Dexen asked.

“Our forces control the planet. The planetary defenses were little match for our forces, and the planet fell within hours. Not only has team captured the planet, reports from the front report that they have also captured a Jedi.” Sayall reported, clearly pleased.

“Interesting. I suspect that the Jedi has been…dealt with.” Dexen said, emphasizing the dealt with.

“She is being interrogated as we speak.” Sayall reported.

“Very well. Once she has given us what we need, I wanted her to be put down, is that understood?” Dexen said.

“Of course.” Sayall agreed.

“And what of our plans? Are we on schedule for the next step?” Dexen asked.

“We are, Moff Dexen. In fact, we are slightly ahead of schedule. I will be sending the signal to Admiral Fairfax at your request. Once I have done so we can begin planning our next move.” The Grand Admiral said.

“Very well.” Dexen said. “Send for Admiral Fairfax and the others. I am eagerly awaiting further news.” Grand Moff Dexen said before his holographic image flickered and then vanished.

Sayall fumed at his desk for a moment. He hated the Grand Moff, and all of the Moffs for that matter. He hated the fact that many of them had “earned” their position without ever seeing combat, or in most cases, never even fired a blaster. Many of the current Moffs were legacies, having been granted their position because of their blood lines, or because of who they knew. They were nothing more than spoiled aristocrats, and Sayall wanted nothing more than to see them all put in their place.

After taking a moment to recover from the indignity of figuratively cowering before the Grand Moff, Sayall loaded a file into his computer. It was an encoded message select members of the Admiralty. It was a message that contained only a date, a time, and a set of coordinates. Those who received the message would know exactly what it meant, and anyone who this message was not meant for would think it only gibberish. He smiled as he pressed the key to send the message, as he knew that soon, very soon…the Empire would return from the ashes to take a hold of the galaxy, and once again, rule with an iron fist.

Pyrx’s smile to the Jedi envoy had been enticing enough to allow a civilized conversation concerning the elective succession of Umbara for its king. He didn’t fault the two Jedi of course, but they constant probing to his thoughts was annoying. Annoying enough to warrant their death, but not at his hand or his apprentice Darth Seducus. But then again the training would prove beneficial from slaying the two Jedi. His pupil’s associates would make good for good enough assassin’s too. Scum, low enough to be assumed as pirates or would be marauders. Either would be a viable option.

”If I am elected as the King of Umbara I will submit to any declarations the Jedi Order need of me. As for your suggestion I will make sure our ambassador knows and informs the Senate of what is happening. Though I do believe the chancellor will find it to be a petty affair. If there is anything else needed in the future, by all means please contact me. I will make time to accommodate your needs.”. Offering a bow to his guests, thanking the Jedi for their visit. Traditional as the custom was it didn’t help the Sith’s wanton desire to peel the flesh from their bones. Keeping his gaunt frame bowed until the Jedi had entered their speeder. Returning back to an upright stance as he watched the Jedi pair speed of into the distance.

Walking back to his manse Pyrx was going to move things quicker, least the Jedi or anyone else try to revoke his title as king. Even if it wasn’t in name, he still had control of the planet. Only to remove several irritations. His gait however remained elegant, his stride still maintained its regal appeal.

Upon entrance to his manse a four legged hologram communicator had started walking. As the slight creak of the machine sounded, Pyrx’s servant had offered him a Charde. Clasping his thin milky fingers around the metallic chalice, one of his preferred drinks in such moments. Sipping once before the project had birthed an image of his apprentice before him. Walking in silence, gathering his words before he’d speak.

”Move things ahead of schedule. Tell your associates to dispose of Sylx and those that sympathize with him. ” He didn’t need to tell him about subtlety about disposing of his competition. Sipping once more from his Charde before speaking once more. ”I’ve had a few guests, the Jedi. Annihilate them. Afterwards come back, we have things to discuss about future appointments.” The tone of Pyrx to his pupil was one of pure maliciousness, devoid of any sympathy but it still held an air of authority.

Kaylee had known even before landing on Tatooine that this assignment would be anything but pleasant. Her master had sent her here to investigate a number of mysterious deaths just outside the spaceport of Mos Eisley. She just didn’t realize exactly how unpleasant this task would prove to be.

She sits in a makeshift medical examiner’s office on the outskirts of the “town.” Those that live in the rows of huts and shacks that make up the residential neighborhood were fearful that some sort of parasite or even a virus had claimed the lives of the victims. So far, there had been nearly 2 dozen victims, and for the most part, they were healthy and showed no signs of ill health, or an attack.

However, looks can be deceiving. As Kaylee looks over the notes of the doctors who had initially investigated the deaths, she found something disturbing- the brains of the victims had all essentially been liquefied. It was almost as if someone, or something had intentionally done this in order to feed on the victims. She leaves her seat and goes out of the room to find Dr. Shanza, the man who’s reports had brought the Jedi to Tatooine in the first place. She had remembered something from her training, a mention of an alien species whose predations had seemed to match up with the types of attacks that had been occurring here. However, if she remembered correctly, these creatures fed on those adept in the Force, and that did not seem to be the case with these victims. However, Kaylee decides that she will do a little more investigating of the victims themselves, to find out if perhaps any of the victims were Force sensitive. As she walks out into the bright mid-day sun, she immediately sees Dr. Shanza, and approaches him.

“May I have a word, Doctor?” She asks as she motions for him to follow her between a pair of huts, not wanting to have the conversation within earshot of anyone who might be trying to eavesdrop.

“Of course, Master Jedi.” Shanza said, incorrectly recognizing Kaylee as a Jedi Master, a mistake that he had repeated numerous times since her arrival, to the point that Kaylee suspects that he is doing it intentionally.

“I’ve been looking through your reports, and am I understanding correctly that each of the victims had their brains removed?” Kaylee asks.

“Indeed. It is rather quite strange, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Shanza tells her. “Do you have any idea what could do something like that?”

“I’m not sure. Doctor, you wouldn’t happen to know if any of the victims were Force users, would you?” She asks, the straightforwardness of her question causes Dr. Shanza to just look at her with a puzzled expression.

“Not that I know of, no.” He says thoughtfully before adding. “Why do you ask?”

“I have heard of instances where,” she pauses, trying to find the right wording. “…things like this have happened. However, from what I understand it was always Force users who were the victims, and there were never this many.”

The doctor is about to question her further but decides to hold his tongue. Kaylee just looks to the doctor and begins to speak again.

“We will get to the bottom of this Dr. Shanza. Now if you will excuse me, I have some research to do.” She says as she bows her head and takes her leave of the doctor, who just stands there in the alley and watches as she walks off into the distance.

Orias studied the mans face as he spoke. He finished his drink quickly, before following the man who had made it clear that he wasn't a Bounty Hunter. He followed him up the stairs and joined the man in the cockpit. As he passed the unconscious Jedi, he looked back to see her completely under. He hadn't even sat down when the ship lifted off, obviously, he wasn't a patient man. "I suppose you want to hear what I meant... I represent a small orginization outside of the Empire's field of interest, but rest assured, I have no more love for the Republic than you do. We are not interested in political power or military might. This spat between the Jedi and the Sith is of little concern to us. We are interested in little more than maintaining balance in the universe. Don't mistake that for Jedi speak, they are fools that think that "Balance" means "All of the power stacked in their favour" that thinking destroyed them before and will destroy them again." he said. "This Jedi could prove useful to us. And we both know that, in the grand scheme of things, she won't know anything that the Empire's intelligence network don't already. Some pathetic Sith Lord will want her body as a trophy and that is all she will be. I also promise her out of the Empire's hair, without wasting her potential."

He was already in the shuttle, there was no way they could outrun a Star Destroyer and if they were absolutely dead set on it, then they could find out that he wasn't Cadara. At which point it was him vs an entire Star Destroyer. That wasn't entirely impossible, but with this man, he didn't like chances throwing him into the mix. Well, if it was his destiny, then it was his destiny to maintain balance from within the force itself.

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” Nyna said to nobody in particular from the service hatch of the Darq Dreams. “The battery regulator’s shot.”

The news is not good. While the crew of the Dreams had hoped that their visit to Tatooine would be a short one, one in which they could regroup and plan their next move. They had no designs on staying for more than a day at the most. When the Dreams first broke down, Nyna had hoped that it would be an easy fix, however upon examination of the battery regulator, she realized that it couldn’t be fixed, and needed to be replaced. Naturally, they didn’t have a spare on board and would have to try and track one down somewhere on the planet.

“We’re not too far from Mos Eisley, maybe we can track one down there.” Dono said.

“Maybe. Chances are, any parts dealers are going to overcharge us. But I’m willing to pay extra to get off this dust bowl.” Nyna replied, the annoyance in her voice clear.

“Alright, let’s go then.” Joren said feigning optimism. “Kelsa, are you going to come?” He asked his voice softening when he spoke to her. The truth was, Joren was concerned for her. Since they had left Nar Shaddaa, she had barely eaten, or slept…or spoke. She was utterly devastated by the loss of her father, and Joren knew how she felt. He had lost everyone that he had ever loved, his mother, his master, and his father. If there was anything he did know, it was exactly how she felt, and he was not going to let her make the same mistakes he did when he was dealing with his losses. He wasn’t going to let her lose herself.

“Yeah, I guess.” Kelsa said unenthusiastically.

Well, it’s a start. Joren thought to himself as he and his friends began getting ready for the trek to Mos Eisley.

High minded talk from someone who not ten minutes ago was screaming at a corpse, it seemed to Ardam. He figured it came with the territory: Jedi had a tendency to wax philosophical, regardless of their qualification, and Sith doubly so. This one at least was somewhat more pragmatic, but the talk of ‘balance’ didn’t do the Sith any favors with him.

“I’d not put much trust in EmpInt, if I were you. Without the Bothans they couldn’t investigate their way out of a paper bag, let alone into the Jedi temple. A thousand or more Jedi in there, meditating, ‘searching their feelings’? You’d have to be something pretty special to go unnoticed around their big flat-iron, and EmpInt aren’t. Maybe the higher-ups have some force-sensitive sithspit they’re keeping secret, but I don’t get paid enough to try and guess the Empire’s secrets. Or disobeying Imperial Admirals. It’s not good for life expectancy. Wait until after the interrogation, and we’ll see if something can’t be worked out, no?”

Speaking of life expectancy, Ardam finally give the correct authentication codes. Flying towards a Super Star Destroyer is an excellent way to get killed if you, like the sith, didn’t know the accurate access codes, and Ardam figured if the sith tried anything characteristic to his philosophy, Ardam would at least take solace in getting atomized by turbolasers minutes later. A voice came through the radio a moment later, a familiar female voice with a familiar air of haughty command.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Pardalis. I will be away from the Bazaar for some time. I expect you to conduct the interrogation in my stead. You know what I expect; succeed and you will be rewarded. Good luck, Fairfax out.”

The pre-recorded message was not her preferred method of instructing her subordinates, but it was necessary. She wanted to be back to the Bazaar as soon as possible, and wasting time waiting for a single individual would not help her win the war. The Captain had his orders, at least: search for and destroy gathering Republic naval elements while avoiding major confrontations. With any luck, the Bazaar and her fleet would only have to be Admiral-less for a few days, and they could resume their full offensive within the standard week.

As for right now, she was stranded on a small transport for an uncomfortably long time. There is a maxim that commanders repeat: “You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war”. Since, of course, there were only two factions in the galaxy, the Empire and the Rebels, Amolia no longer had the ability to fight someone else. And since ‘not fighting too often’ went against her sensibilities, she had to find an escape from this conundrum. Her solution, quite simply, was to learn faster than she taught.
Her luxurious, if understated, personal quarters on the Super Star Destroyer did nothing to indicate the massive library of military literature it held, but the wonders of modern computer technology compressed millennia of learning into a chip the size of her fingernail. That chip, and the copies she had of it, occupied whatever free time she had. She would read the works of the Mandalores, histories of Revan and Malak, analyses of the Clone Wars and first-hand accounts of battles like Coruscant or Mon Calamari. Of course, there was only so much histories and ancient advice could teach her, and she supplemented these works with modern thought. She read essays out of the Navy College, the collected works of Piett or Ossel, and of course, the sole volume penned by Admiral Thrawn. She knew the last almost off by heart, though she would never admit it.

She contented herself with this heavy reading, working her way through a surprisingly entertaining, and ruthlessly scathing, critique of the conduct of the Navy before and during Endor. As much as she hated to admit it, the Rebels had made something great. She flicked through another screen, and settled in for her long journey.

Orias stared out the window, he had been informed that the Bazaar was an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, not a Super. This was much worse than he suspected. When the man seemed to understand his position, but disagree with it. He took a Credit Chit out of his pocket and put it on the dashboard in front of him. "I apologize for my outburst and my using the force on you. I needed to keep up appearances, you doubt the competence of the Sith, so acting incompetent was the way to convince you. 5,000 Credits. I assure that's enough to buy your silence for the moment. I'm not asking for you to help me in any way. Just a little something to allow you to remember that I am Cadara." he said. He knew this mans type and what he said next was rather reassuring. Force permitting, he might actually complete this mission. As the giant black mobile fortress loomed closer, their ship began to look rather insignificant next to it. The large hangar bay swallowed them whole as they went in to land. He got to his feet, carrying his helmet under his arm. He then looked down at her arm. "I'm surprised you let her keep her arm. Breaking a leg so she can't move seems a little odd. Removing the hands or breaking her arms so she cannot conduct the force efficiently would be far more efficient." he said.

It was of little concern to him, with any luck, he would be removing her hand himself for the initiation. He looked down at his black glove and clenched the skeletal hand that was hidden inside. The strangest part of the initiation was that it hadn't hurt. He had expected that a blade half as hot as the surface of a sun would hurt a lot more than it did. That was another misconception about Lightsabers, they radiated almost no heat. You could put your hand a centimeter from an exposed blade and you would feel no heat from it.

The ramp lowered and he saw Ardam hoist the girl onto his shoulder. He swept his hand to indicate that he should lead and he would follow. He closed his eyes and his aura of fear arose around him. He walked down the ramp, right after him.

Edit.

Tatooine

---

Mako paused in his sinking, sliding tracks through the desert. His hood billowed off his head as he lifted it in response to some prodding, some ripple in the invisible entity his father called the force. He didn’t necessarily like it, the tranquil feeling of the calm ripple traversing his usually chaotic, if not forever-racing mind.

He tensed his jaw instinctively. I’m gonna have to step up the pace. I don’t agree with that force I’m feeling. Its too, preachy. Too … idle. He sighed then, almost weary of his own wants. Or, to be precise, that's what I would like to say. This presence is in the one place I need to be. If I must, then I’d just have to cut it down

Confidence had filled him since sending his father to oblivion. A great, fallen Jedi in his own rights. The man had proven difficult even after being caught off guard. Mako stood in sight of the busy town of Mos Eisley. From the dune he had crouched on, his dark cape flew adrift with an ominous appearance.

Somewhere within that town of cutthroats and hustlers were a presence he wasn't willing to meet. If he could just sneak through without drawing attention, then he’d be good. Hopefully they weren't too diligent about the dark side, for his father had not taught him to conceal his own allegiance in the force. Either way, he had little choice in the matter. He’d have to advance eventually. Perhaps he'd wait until sun down, he had not rations left but he could sustain himself in the force for just a little longer.

“By your will, master. I’ll see it done.”

These were the sinister words uttered from the hologram by none other than Darth Seducus, the vile apprentice of Darth Crudelis. Otherwise known by his other name, Malov, the handsome, chiseled Zeltron male was disguised in a servant’s robes, specifically the attire of Sylx’s manse. As his master had been scouting his opposition, Malov had conned his way into dressing as an inconspicuous butler in the Sylx residence, hiding in plain sight while his master tried to sway him and his supporters. While Umbarans were not common in hiring otherworlders, Malov had a very convincing way with words, not to mention his connection with the force had made his appeal all the more convincing. He had also had a few assassins hired in Sylx’s manse as well, shapeshifting Clawdites from his Trubba the Hutt days all working in tandem with him, preparing for the moment when his master would issue the command to wipe the slate clean.

And today was that day, as soon as he made his confirmation the hologram blinked out quickly. Malov’s pleasant smile only turned more sinister as he turned to one of his compatriots, a female Umbaran also dressed in servant’s garbs, more than likely this was another Clawdite working with Malov, but from an outsider's perspective there would be no way to be sure.

“Well, it’s time for Sylx’s time in office to be cut dreadfully short.” Malov said to the girl, who gave a simple nod in return. “Let’s deliver the old favorite...what was it Trubba called it? The ‘Order 66’ package? Let’s go with that.”

“Fine, we’ll rig an electrical failure in Sylx’s estate to kill him, the people we have stationed in Sylx’s supporters manor’s will all suffer similar…accidental fates.” The Umbaran woman responded, following the Zeltron as he briskly walked down to the service exit of Sylx’s manse. “Are you going to be contributing?”

“I’m afraid not. You heard my master….I have other orders.” He replied, pulling off the shirt of his finely crafted uniform and handing it off to the Umbaran, revealing civilian garb underneath. “I trust those we have in the wings can take care of our goals, but I have a meeting to get to.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Was the last words the Umbaran woman said before turning off back into the hallways, allowing Malov to get to his speeder in privacy. With no time to waste, Malov hopped in and stepped on the gas, launching himself into the dark Umbaran sky. He knew he only had a short time to intercept those two Jedi before they made their way off planet. He had to act fast, and be convincing. He knew the link to their comms, the Jedi comm links were easily obtainable during his stay in the Sylx manse, as the Jedi had been there a few times. Taking a few breaths, he opened up the channel.

“Jedi? Jedi I know you may have other business matters at hand off-world, but I need to talk to you. What’s going on in Umbara right now...it’s big. I know you’ve been talking with Umbaran diplomats all week, but...but there is more. There is something going on deep underneath the surface...it’s big. I don’t know who might be listening to this conversation, but…please meet me at the bar near the airport. I’ll explain everything there, please hurry.”

Got them. He clicked the comms off just before they were able to respond. He knew a Jedi would not be able to ignore something like that, and the message was too urgent for them to wire to any other jedi. He also had speed on his side, navigating the airways fast enough to get there long before the Jedi would get to the bar.

More than enough time to set a trap.

By the time he got there, the bar was already fairly empty. While not many Umbarans were drinkers, there were always a percentage interested in going somewhere to let off some steam. However, it was still mid-day, most were at work or home, the bars were nearly empty, a few drunken deadbeats and barkeeps were all that populated the rooms. It did not take the long to sweet talk every patron in the bar, using either his natural talents or the force, to ‘take a break for a few minutes, go for a walk, clear your head’.

Within minutes, the bar had emptied, the stage was set, his Sith Robes and Armor were waiting in his speeder, his lightsaber in his belt. He sat down at the empty table, taking a quick sip of ale before pulling down his mask.

He was ready, the stage was set for the first jedi confrontation, and he would be victorious.

The diplomats arrived within a few minutes, he could see that they were well aware this could be a trap by their sabers already in hand as they entered the empty establishment. Of course, they would meet no frantic servant, but they would see no hired hitman today either.

No, today they would meet a Sith, sitting alone in the bar, waiting for them.

“It’s about time you showed up, Jedi.” Darth Seducus uttered, slowly rising from his seat. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t take the bait...but your kind...it’s easy to manipulate you. All it takes is one little servant to speak up, and you come running. No second thoughts, no plan...you just come, and think your abilities will carry you through whatever confrontation comes.”

The jedi did not respond, instead choosing to ignite their lightsabers. Malov was disappointed, they were smart enough to know better than trying to reason with him. He was hoping to have a nice dialog, but they were already blocking him out.

Darth Seducus, slowly rising from his chair, ignited his own lightsaber, a bright crimson, clearly defining his alignment. “Fine. Have it your way.” And with a motion, he beckoned the Jedi to come at him. One of the diplomats was quick to beckon his challenge, charging forward with a thrust in an attempt to get him in the shoulder.

A novice move, these Jedi had not had much time fighting another lightsaber wielder from the looks of it. With a quick sidestep and a raised swipe, Darth Seducus had removed the jedi’s hand from his person. Before he was even able to scream, the red lightsaber met the Jedi’s neck, tossing their head to the side and sending the body to the ground.

“What? That’s all you could muster?” Seducus taunted at the body, glancing over to the other diplomat. “Is that what your kind is trained to do? I’m disappointed...I thought Jedi were better than making such blatant and stupid moves. You certainly know how to lower my expectations.”

That was enough, the second Jedi was coming at him, already Seducus could detect the rising anger in him as he swung his green saber in quick, decisive cuts. This was a much more talented Jedi, trained in the way of Makashi, his attacks were timed, well-placed, and quick. While Seducus was ready with a parry at each attack, there was no opening like the first Jedi. This was a trained person, their physical skill was actually a match for Seducus’ attacks.

However, Seducus was more than prepared with a physical match for himself. His words would be the death of this jedi.

“Hmm….judging by the form and talent, along with the fact you aren’t dead yet, I’m taking it you are the master in this relationship?” Malov asked, pushing a stab to the side. “Which, by the process of elimination, that would mean that decaying body back there was the apprentice...a true shame that you did not teach him better, huh? He barely stood a chance, how could you let him move first?”

He could feel the Jedi’s anger welling up, his attacks getting more aggressive, his attacks becoming more frantic. Time to deliver the punchline.

“Or...was it that you couldn’t control him? You never could? Was this your first Padawan? He was a child, barely over a youngling, and you let him die. Now you have to go back to the Council and tell them you’re a failure, how sad.”

That did it, the Jedi screamed and launched a strong downward swing aiming for his head, his weight completely off-center. This was more than enough for Seducus to push the Jedi off-balance, long enough to drive his lightsaber through the Jedi’s chest as he stumbled back, unable to parry the quick assault.

As the Jedi slumped onto Seducus’ shoulder, he was quick to deliver one last stinging sentence before the veteren diplomat perished.

“Pathetic, just like your Padawan.” Seducus said to the Jedi’s ear. “Don’t feel too bad, though. You won’t be alone in your death...I’ll make sure the whole Jedi Order will join you.”

With that last spiteful comment, Darth Seducus pushed the dying Jedi off of his lightsaber, sinking to the floor. It wouldn’t be long before the patrons and barkeeps came back, Seducus was quick to lift their bodies with a simple Force Life and hurry out the back exit. He dumped the bodies in a dumpster, covering them with a hefty bit of garbage before departing. It would take a long time for anyone to find the dead Jedi, and by then Seducus would be long gone. However, he would make sure to call one of the Clawdites on planet and smuggle the bodies to the nearest incinerator, just to be safe.

“Master, it’s done.” Darth Seducus said, hopping into his speeder as the patrons all began to return, unaware of the assassination that had just taken place. “I will meet you shortly.”

Kaylee stands before the bodies of several of the victims of this silent killer, and the more she examines the corpses the more she believes that she knows what has been causing so much death in this single neighborhood. Each victim died the same way, with very little physical trauma save for injuries around the nose- almost as if someone, or something had forced something into the victims’ brains through their nostrils.

From the time she was a child, she heard stories of an ancient race of people who fed on Jedi and other Force sensitives in this manner, however she never believed the stories to be anything other than tales to frighten children. Yet, as she stands before the bodies of the victims of these strange murders, she begins to wonder if there actually is some credence to the stories.
Kaylee has seen enough, she is certain that she has uncovered the identity of the culprit, now all she needs to do is find him. However, she is uncertain that she will be able to stop the murderer before he strikes again, at least not on her own. As she steps back out into the street, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her comlink.

“Rush, I think I know what is killing the people in town. I’ll meet you back at the ship and explain everything.” She tells him.

He responds, but she doesn’t hear a word he says. Instead, her attention is drawn elsewhere by someone, or something, else. She feels anger and hatred. It is intense and unfocused, but it is powerful. She reaches out with the Force trying to pin down exactly where it is coming from, but is unable to specify exactly where this other presence is coming from. She wonders to herself if this is the killer that she was looking for. Whether or not this is what she was looking for, or something else entirely she does not know, she only knows that she is sure that she will have to confront this darkness in due time.

The matter was entirely too theatrical for Sayall’s taste. The clandestine meeting of the Imperial Admiralty on a remote world was not his choice, it was a directive from Grand Moff Dexen himself. Had it been up to Sayall, they certainly would have chosen a world more temperate, as the weather on Toola was less than ideal. The planet was cold and for the most part sparsely populated, at least outside of the major population centers. That was what made Toola the perfect location for this meeting, with so many locations being devoid of intelligent life forms, the Empire had little to fear from prying eyes.

Sayall stood at the top of the loading ramp of his shuttle surrounded by a small detail of storm troopers waiting for the ramp to lower. He fastened his heavy coat and brushed it with his hands, ensuring that it was impeccable as would be expected from a man in his position. Not that it truly mattered, the moment he stepped off of the shuttle, the icy winds of the frozen tundra would render all of his grooming for naught.

It was ironic in a way. If the Imperial forces failed to execute the plan that he and his closest confidants had drawn up, their failure would render this conference, as well as the decades of rebuilding the Imperial machine an exercise in futility. In the next several days and weeks ahead, the very existence of the Empire lay in the balance, after all…what is an Empire without subjects?

Slowly, the ramp lowered to the snow covered ground, and surrounded by his escort of storm troopers, Grand Admiral Vonn Sayall descended the walkway to meet his audience which had already arrived and were awaiting him on the ground. A majority of the Imperial Admiralty stood before his shuttle, most with an escort of soldiers standing by their sides. It would have been an impressive sight to behold if anyone were on the frozen tundra to witness the Imperial gathering. As Sayall made his way toward the crowd, he immediately spotted his greeting party, Admiral Rana Arsnik of the super star destroyer White Bazaar, a particularly gifted member of the Admiralty. Admiral Arsnik had proven to be creative, and had an impressive record. Arsnik was also confident, and Sayall was sure that she thought that she could do his job better than him. And perhaps she could, after all she had gained an unwavering loyalty from her charges and was a true leader, and above all, Sayall was glad to have her.

As he approached Admiral Arsnik, he made eye contact with her as she saluted him, a gesture that he returned.

“Good to see you Admiral, we have much to discuss.” Sayall said with an air of confidence as he gestured to the large makeshift shelter that would serve as the conference room for this meeting of the Empire’s best. “But perhaps we should get in out of the cold.”

Joren and Kelsa trailed behind Nyna and Dono as they left Telchu’s Emporium after finding a new battery regulator for the Dreams. They had been to several junk dealers and other parts dealers in the space port with no luck, spending more time than they would have liked searching for the part. Finally, they had come to Telchu’s and found the part they needed, and with a small amount of negotiation, they were able to agree upon a price and purchased the regulator. Once Nyna was able to replace the part, they would be on their way.

Joren could hear Dono and Nyna chatting excitedly about something as they walked, but was unable to discern exactly what it was. However, it wasn’t all that important to him. Instead, his focus was on Kelsa, who although she seemed to be doing well despite her recent losses, he didn’t need the Force to tell him that she was barely holding on.

“I’m here for you, you know.” Joren said to her seemingly out of the blue.

“I know.” Kelsa responded.

“I’ve…I’ve been there. I lost my father and…” Joren paused for a moment, trying to think on his feet, having almost let slip the word “master.” He took a deep breath and continued. “Someone else very close to me, not too long before I met up with you guys.”

“You never told me that.” Kelsa said. “You’ve never really talked about your past.”

“There’s really nothing much to talk about.” Joren replied.

Kelsa was about to ask him something, but she could see that Dono and Nyna had been approached by a pair of Rodians, and several more were moving toward them.

“Oh boy…” Kelsa started to say.

“Stay back, I’ll handle this.” Joren told Kelsa as he approached his friends and the Rodians.

“Is there a problem here?” Joren asked.

“Yes problem. Mando not want to give us parts.” The Rodian said in broken basic.

“There’s no need for that.” Joren said. “Why don’t we buy you a drink?”

“No drink. We not like Mandos, we want his ship parts.” The Rodian insisted.

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through, my friend.” Joren said, signaling for Dono to holster the weapon that he had just drawn. “It isn’t wise to try to rob a Mandalorian.”

Just as Dono had holstered his weapon, the Rodian pulled his blaster out and leveled it directly at Joren’s face. Through the Force, Joren could feel the Rodian’s intentions. Before the Rodian was able to pull the trigger, Joren knocked the Rodian’s hand away, knocking the blaster from his grip. He followed up with a right cross that knocked the Rodian off of his feet. Nyna and Dono joined in, attacking the Rodians, Nyna with a swift kick to one Rodian’s midsection, and Dono with a roundhouse right. With the brief scuffle over, Joren felt someone else approaching. He turned on the fast approaching being with a wild right hand punch, pulling back at the last second when instead of seeing another Rodian, he saw a pretty brunette human standing before him.

“Well, you’ve managed to make a mess.” The woman said.

“It wasn’t our intention.” Joren said.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t reason with those Rodians, they’re animals.” The woman said with an anger in her voice that wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. “We should get moving, they’ll be back with their friends any minute.”

“Where are we going?” Nyna asked, suspicious of the woman.

“My place isn’t too far from here. It’ll be safe there.” She told them.

Joren just stood there, not sure what to make of the young woman. He looked to Nyna, Dono, and then to Kelsa, who looked to be on the verge of tears. Kelsa had been through a lot over the last few days, and the last thing she needed was another shoot out with yet another band of thugs. Almost as if reading his mind, Dono nodded in silent approval to Joren.

“Lead the way.” Joren said, motioning for the woman to take the lead. “I’m Joren,” He said as he began motioning towards his friends, “this is Dono, Nyna, and Kelsa. And you are?”

“Brya.” The woman said shortly. “Less talking, more walking. We don’t want to be here when they get back.

As they made their way away from the site of the brawl toward Bria’s house, Joren felt something, a presence. Then he realized that it wasn’t just one, but three. First there was a familiar presence, one calm and soothing. It was a presence that he had felt before, but he just couldn’t place it. Then there was a second presence, like the first, strong in the Force, but this one was dark, wild and angry. Then there was something…else. Something powerful, and unlike anything he had ever felt before. And as they walked toward their new friend’s house, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever this strange presence was, it was watching them.

==Several Days Later==

Ardan had been kind enough not to give his identity away. Luckily, his plan had worked, the Jedi had remained unconscious, with nothing able to resuscitate her. After a day of attempting to rouse her, he had convinced them to give him a shuttle so that he may take her to Mustafar, the planet Jedi go to die, the planet which they knew that no Jedi could retain their secrets or sanity.

After the Shuttle had made its first jump, he had changed course, he needed to ditch the shuttle. The closest planet out of Imperial jurisdiction was Tatooine. A planet that he had long since wanted to visit. The birthplace of Anakin Skywalker.

The fact that Anakin Skywalker had become Darth Vader was not common knowledge, in fact, the official records stated that Anakin had died in an event that people called "The Changing Of The Guard" when the Clones had marched on the Jedi Temple to stop their uprising. However, after a mission to Honnogr, they had found that the Noghri knew of his true identity, calling him the Walker from the Sky. One of the Noghri Shamens also managed to find the name "Ghost Hand" a name that the Nelvaanans knew Anakin Skywalker as.

The shuttle slowly descended into a landing bay at Mos Eisley, he had hoped to land in Mos Espa, but Boonta Eve was nae and they were full from the crime lords coming for the big Podrace. He walked down the ramp and was met by a Dug foreman. "Hooo boy, that's a nice shuttle you've got. Military grade? Got some cahones' to steal from the Republic." he said. Orias looked down at the Dug.

"It was a gift." he said.

"Sure, and i'm sure that the Chancellor himself giftwrapped it for you? Look buddy, I don't judge, but I do need you to pay the docking fee's. 1000 credits a day. I need the exact amount of time you are gonna stay, and the first 20%, rounded to the nearest whole day, upfront."

"I plan to sell this." he waved his hand. "Docking fee's are not necessary." he said.

"You plan to sell this... Docking fee's are..." The Dug looked confused, attempting to fight the force influence.

"Docking fee's are not necessary." he reaffirmed.

"Docking fee's are not necessary." the Dug replied, succumbing to the mental assault.

"Thank you." he said. "Now, before leaving... I will need some civilian clothing. I don't suppose you have any spare?" After an hour, he descended the Shuttle. Dressed in simple clothing he walked out into the town. He needed to sell the shuttle and use the proceeds to get a new ship. As he walked, looking for anywhere that may have ships for sale, he felt a weakened, yet still rather powerful entity with the Force somewhere... It was rather odd. He looked around the streets, wiping his brow. This intense heat, combined with the immense amount of people... It was impossible to concentrate, but he knew that the man that he sensed wasn't in the street. He slowly began making his way towards the edge of the city, following his senses. He then began walking out, into the Dune Sea. The further he went from the city, the clearer it was. After almost an hour, he finally stopped. The source was within a hundred meters of him. He could feel his presence, but he suspected that the man was hiding. "Hello?" he called. "Hello, I am here to talk to you. I have no wish for violence... I can sense that you are strong in the ways of the force and I can also sense that you are slowly fading. I cannot promise that I am on your side, but I can promise that I am not on the side of your enemies." he called.

Just before Tatooine’s twin suns set, the sky was a mix of swirling blues, pinks, oranges and purples. Joren and Kelsa stood just outside of the modest home that their new friend Brya shared with her younger sister Brixi just outside of Mos Eisley. They silently watch as the Tatooine’s twin suns dipped below the distant dunes. Joren wanted nothing more than to say something, anything to help ease her pain. After all, he knew all too well the pain that she was feeling having just recently lost her father. He also felt her loss. From the moment that he had known the man, Jan Sila had treated him as his own son.

“It’s all my fault.” Kelsa said, breaking the silence.

“That’s nonsense.” Joren said as he turned to meet her gaze.

“The last time I ever spoke to him, we had a fight.” Kelsa said on the verge of tears.

“That’s not important.” Joren told her.

“I wanted a new custom landspeeder, but he wouldn’t get it for me. Joren, I said such horrible things to him. I told him that I hated him, that I…” She stopped as tears began to stream down her face. Joren stepped closer to her, putting his arms around her and pulling her into him, giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead as she began to sob.

“None of that matters, Kiddo. Your dad loved you more than anything in the entire galaxy, and he made sure that you knew that. And he knew just how much you loved him. That’s all that matters. He knew.” Joren said softly to her as he squeezed her tightly.

They just stood there for several beats holding one another, letting their silence speak for them. Joren wanted nothing more than to take her pain away, but he knew from experience that there really was nothing that could be done. He could use the Force to soothe her pain temporarily, but he knew that when his influence through the Force subsided, the pain would return, and more than likely, more intense than before.

“We all have our regrets.” Joren said finally. “That’s only natural. What matters is how we remember our lost loved ones. Your father may not be here anymore, but he’ll never leave you. He’ll always be with you…right here.” Joren said as he pointed to her heart.

Kelsa nodded and then squeezed Joren in a tight embrace. She kept her eyes to the ground as Joren squeezed in return. Then, noticing that the last rays of light were quickly fading, and having heard stories of the dangers of the Sand People all her life, she broke her own silence. “Maybe we should head inside.”

Joren nodded in agreement, and as he took Kelsa’s hand and led her back inside Brya’s home, he couldn’t shake the feeling that once again, someone nearby was watching them.

Tatooine

---

Tall as he was, Mako raised to his full height at the beckoning of another. It wasn’t until the last moment had he realized he was being approached; sustaining one’s self with the force was a consuming task—at least for him it was. The shirtless male was veiled by a wind-battered dark cloak, its folds billowing left and right; it made him feel powerful as he looked down on this stranger.

“True as that may be, I’m afraid I can’t afford to believe in inconsistences.” He brought the two-handed dark hilt into his hand and brought his arm out the doublings of his cloak. He hoped the possibility of a fight would persuade the man to move on, he knew he had little chance in winning.

Now that he focused, he could feel the unique balance that attempted to meld inside him. It was… unnatural. “Leave me be warrior. I have not the time to dawdle with you. Your--Your uncertainty bothers me.”

@mattmanganon

Orias slowly walked around the man as he struck an intimidating pose. He made sure to keep out of the reach of a possible lightsaber attack. He couldn't get a good bead on whether he was just putting up a show, or was actually physically drained "I don't believe that you want to fight me." he said. He stared at the mans shirtless body. The thick dirt and sand that plastered his body meant that he had obviously been out in the desert for quite some time. "Ah, some form of initiation ritual? I did something myself once. Although, I did so surrounded by tree's and foliage. I have to admit, yours was probably harder." he said. He continued to circle the man. "I have no intention in fighting. I am always curious to meet any other force user. Your words and your presence... I don't sense that you are completely a Jedi. I sense conflict." he said. "Come, all I ask is that you share your name and a drink with me in town." he said.

Tatooine

---

Mako considered the man’s offer with wariness. The truth of his words, the accuracy that he unraveled Mako with, only made him more hesitant. Even if he wasn’t a danger to him, this man’s connection with the force was unique to him… unknown. It bothered him. Not to mention the outfit he wore was kind of misleading as well.

He thought long about his answer. Though he may seem to the stranger to be looking through the man. A minute passed before Mako—lightsaber still in hand—relented with a tilt of his head and a stern glare.

“A,” was the sudden name he’d given the man. “My name is A. I’ve been traveling these deserts for several days. My rations are depleted and I’m hungry. I want my food first.”

Orias stared at him. It was a stare that informed him that they both knew that that wasn't his name, but he understood not wanting to give his true name to a stranger. "Alright. Come, town is about an hours walk... Stick close to me if you don't want to get noticed." he said. As they walked towards Mos Eisley, he kept glancing over at the man. "So, tell me, do you belong to a group? Or are you independent?" he asked. They finally reached the space-port and began walking along the streets. As they walked, he would notice that nobody was looking at him, even though he was rather conspicuously dressed. "An old technique." he said. "The weak minded see us, but they aren't registering us." he said, he stuck his hand out and waved his hand in front of a pathing Ithorians face. The Ithorian didn't seem to react to it.

"Ever wonder how most Jedi walk around inconspicuously, even though they wear distinctive dress?" he asked. "My Master taught me this... He was a Jedi, once..." he then walked them towards a canteena and sat down at a table with him. Soon, the food arrived, a meal that was simple to most, but most likely resembling a feast fit for a king to a man that hadn't seen food for over a month.