Imperial Battlegroup 701,
Bridge of the Imperial II Star Destroyer, The Intrepid,
Hyperspace, several light-years away from Onderon

"Admiral on the bridge!" Shouted one of the bridge officers as Fleet Admiral Gable Karius arrived on the bridge. The middle-aged Imperial officer, who was half man and half machine slowly made his way down the bridge toward the viewing port. The bright blue reflection of hyperspace illuminated the bridge. All around him, officers worked around the clock to make the final preparations for the mission. As Karius stepped up to the viewing poet, some of the officers in the pits to the side looked up, glacing at the imposing Admiral as he walked by. Once he stopped at the viewport, he picked up a datapad from a nearby aid and looked up the preparation reports.

It wasn't uncommon for Karius to check manifests and reports every few minutes. The Admiral had an obssession with perfection, and that led to him sometimes micromanaging everything he had any responsability for.

"Commander Caltrel!" Shouted Karius, drawing the attention of a nearby officer. The man was in his early 40's. Caltrel was one of the few career officers in The Intrepid who came from one of the Inner Core worlds. This particular commander was from Corusant. The nephew of a wealthy tax collector who had somehow made it this far in the Imperial Navy.

"Admiral?" Caltrel stood straight and calm. He seemed rather confused at the Admiral's sudden aggression.

"There is a crate of supplies missing from this manifesto. Care to explain?"
Karius pointed at the screen of the datapad with his cybernetic hand.

The Commander shruged. "It's just one crate. Logistics must have missed the deadline."

Karius scoffed, taking a few threatening steps in the Commander's direction. "Are you shifting blame toward your subordinates, commander?"

"Of course not. I mean, they could have made a mistake. B-but perhaps I simply missed sir. Perhaps if I can-" Caltrel tried to reach for the datapad, but was instead met by the Admiral robotic limb as it latched onto his neck and lifted him up in the air.

"Do you take me for some kind of fool!? This setback could cost us the mission you insolent incompetent!" Before Caltrel could explain himself, the Admiral tossed him into one of the pits. His body made a hollow thud sound as it hit the metallic floor. Luckily, the Commander was knocked unconcious rather killed. Some of the crew bellow rushed to the Commander's aid, carrying him away.

Karius let out a robotic sigh through his modulator, sending out an order through the datapad for the crews in the hangars to ensure the crate was accounted for.

-Onderon- the word, the planet brought back a flurry of memories. In her youth, she longed to see the world of the Beast Men, the defiant royal family and the place where Freedon Nadd met is end. In her youth, she'd dreamed of leading Jedi to tame the uncivilized world and bring order to such a wild part of the inner rim. She did of course, during the early days of the war. One of Darth Ruins lieutenants, some infuriating Sephi who had claimed the mantle of Sith Lord decided to take the planet for himself. He set up his seat of power in the old palace, when she stormed the planet he attempted to conjure the dark side energies into one terrible blast but had succeeded only in destroying himself and his own apprentices. Ah yes, she thought, though it was unbecoming of a Jedi Master she allowed herself a small measure of exhilaration when she pulled the palace down around what remained of his rabble.

Rabble, what she was so often surrounded by now. She stood on the main catwalk of the command bridge, an ivory figure shrouded in a dark purple cloak, her bone white hair falling about slender shoulders a living marble statue that occasionally swayed, moving as an Alsakan cobra might when luring in prey.

Someone stormed passed her, she had been too lost in the memories and in the gathering of her strength to notice exactly who until the wheezing gasp of a respirator and a life support system clued her in. Fleet Admiral Gable Karius, the tin man toy of a monstrosity too profane to fathom. His association with Lord Vader as they called the wretched Homunculus made her think lesser of him than she did of most of these so called "officers" until that is, she saw him at work. Karius was astute, aggressive but not blind, ambitious but not ungovernable in that ambition and above all else loyal to the concept of order.

His men respected him as much as they feared her, a fear she was told that came about because every force user they were used to dealing with apparently murdered people at the drop of a hat. Short sighted animals that they were, she would have to change that and this mission that simpering fossil clutching to the remnants of a dead man's power to hold back his downfall another day presumptuously ordered her on. -I will play the dutiful Knight, for now- , Karius anger amused her and like a true romantic, a true patriot he thought only of incompetence, grift did not enter into the equation, no soldier would be so stupid as to embezzle munitions or medical supplies on the eve of battle.

Except, they always did.

"Admiral" She spoke up, her voice imperious, it rang across the command deck like a melody but hid within it menace and madness. "Admiral I do not believe he was stupid" she turned her profile casting a long shadow before her obscuring the metal half of the man. "I believe he was appropriating that to sell on the black market..It is an old vice of middle of the road officers after all"

Corruption, was universal, no matter the century, no matter the government.

For now any way.

He raised his gaze from the datapad for a moment.
"Reasons are irrelevant. Whether he is corrupt or incompetent, it doesn't matter. I won't tolerate it. My orders are clear and concise. And any who stray from it will face the concequences."

It was a mistake keeping him around. Karius had a feeling Caltrel would pull something like this sooner or later. Whether it was jealousy, selfishness or pure stupidity it didn't matter. All he cared about is that things were done on time and that his orders were followed. It was simple.

Purple eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and annoyance, disciplining someone who indulged in gift the same way one disciplined a fool was acceptable during times of war but outside of that? Well, the corrupt had their uses, turning them to ensure you had the right supplies when vexatious logistics clerks were not always forthcoming. Or simply strapping them to a post and whipping them until their ribs and spine could be seen before ordering them hauled off to a bacta tank to make an example of them was also acceptable. The Master was a pragmatist yes, but like Admiral Karius she shared his love for order and his need for discipline. "When we make orbit around Onderon, I shall lead the strike team" the woman turned now fully, allowing her form to move from its statuesque posture into a disturbingly fluid, almost slither as she seemingly glided across the walkway towards the viewing plasteel. "I wish you to remain here, two thousand years ago I brought a fleet of twelve thousand ships out of hyperspace and skimmed atmosphere" a slow smile crept across her features as one of the men on Nav comm duty gasped, not at the size but at the fact that she managed to bring a fleet that large into a gravity well without killing everything in a ten thousand click radius. "The Darkside has ravaged this system for millennium Admiral, Hyperspace is loose..While most navigators and pilots wouldn't know this. The Rebel alliance has made shall we say...liberal use of smugglers, force sensitives, mental patients and other reprobates who would look to know such things. In the event we're set upon by such men, it is better to have at least one experienced commander in the sky. And, I much rather you not lose more of your organic tissue" The woman moved a hand from her cloak and reached up to part an errant strand of hair from her face.

"In another life, we would have been enemies. I fought the Sith here, I killed thousands of them here" The woman paused and then let out a breath, soft, almost gentle, almost mournful. The consummate theatricality of a woman bred for politics, bred to lead, consecrated in the force to command. "Thirty two..Billion...That was the price I was willing to pay for justice, for order" Though, whether she was confessing to the body count she personally possessed, or her entire theatre in the first century of a millennia spanning war would be up to the listener. "Your price seems more personal, is it not? Though I suppose we have both paid in our own blood as well" She turned, moving with that dancer's grace and set a hand on the metallic shoulder, a predatory gaze in her violate eyes "Are my Storm Troopers ready Admiral? I should like to meet with them before we jump..And if you wish, I shall instruct your navigations officers in how to jump near atmosphere, it should give us an extra twenty seconds before their sensors pick anything up"

Karius seemed unimpressed by the Dark Sider's bragging. She could have killed trillions in the past. Destroyed countless worlds. Toppled dozens of governments. But, he preferred the here and now. The past and future were completely irrelevant to his mission.

"Otherwise, what use would you be to the Empire? Inform the navigation officers before you go to the hangar. I'll monitor everything from here."
Karius kept his eyes fixated on the datapad. He had more important things to attend to than engage in small talk on the bridge of a Star Destroyer.

For the briefest of moments her eyes flashed with something akin to amusement before she relented and turned on her heels, her the fabric fluttering about her as she made her turn giving her shadow the visage of a hooded serpent as she walked with the kind of grace and elegance that came from a childhood spent meticulously rehearsing etiquette, form, protocol and conduct. "May the force be with you, Admiral Karius" The last part spoken in an almost empathetic tone or near as close as she chose to manage when dealing with people accustomed to a culture of short sighted cutthroats. Automatic doors swung open and soon enough she was down into the main docking and disembarkation bay of this "Imperial Class Star Destroyer".

Sending a battleship alone without escorts into one of the most wild systems in the inner rim, this close to rebel space was perhaps the best example of why micromanagement by career politicians was the single greatest threat to military success any warring nation faced. A single..what were they? The phallic shaped ones, Carrack class gunboats could have achieved this but Pestage sent a Star Destroyer, without its battlegroup. She'd consider murdering him upon her triumphant return for the impudent were she not certain it would have been the worst possible move to make at the present and were it not for the fact that he did this less out of a desire to eliminate two potential rivals and more because he was a damned fool.

Star Destroyers were meant to ferry around thousands of regular army troops, hundreds of Storm Troopers, they were meant to be a force multiplier and augmentation vessel, a hub for picket command not a damned raider. Were it not for her suggestion regarding the hyperlanes being unstable enough to pop out in atmosphere without it being suicide she was certain every vessel for a lightyear would sniff them out.

How was it, someone who spent the entire existence of the Empire in a force induced coma knew more about how to properly wield its forces than the supposed leader? And she was certain Karius had the same sense of consternation, though he must have been glad to be on field duty again.

That was another thing they had in common, she had been idle too long. The sheer size of these vessels always impressed her, but she was always somewhat disappointed at the overabundance of fighters, a lack of mechanized ground combat vehicles. The Rebels utterly slaughtered their TIE pilots in space because they were treated as cannon fodder, this made these behemoths vulnerable and squandered away the potential of so many pilots, so many resources.

Those in the combat bay waiting for her were veterans, she could sense the blood in the air and the history. Were they remnants of the 501st? Leftovers from Endor? -Another terrible mistake that-

What a magnificent legion, what a dishonor.

Or were they another group? The woman allowed herself to smile...it had been too long

The combat bay was filled with AT-ST's, AT-AT's and other repulsorlift vehicles all set and ready to go. Some were being loaded onto transports while others were being transported deeper into the ship for maintenance. Among the vehicles were the venerable stormstroopers. All of them had blue markings on their armor, the sigil of the 501st. Myria hadn't been told she would be working for the veteran 501st, though she should have figured this would be the cade. Admiral Karius' close relationship with Darth Vader probably got him some friends among the Stormtroopers of the 501st. As she walked down the catwalk and observed the soldiers and technicians below she spotted one of the stormtroopers standing on the catwalk. He was holding his helmet under his arm and his armor was adorned by a black side cape adorned with blue lines. As for the Stormtrooper himself, he had scarring all over his face. He looked like he had survived countless battles.

purple eyes flickered in recognition the closer she got to the Stormtroopers, recognition that filled her with a sense of purpose. The force was a fickle substance, one that could react to those attempting to harvest and mold it a myriad of different ways not in the least of it to fight back against your hands with all manner of violence and misfortune, other times it provided. -Pestage, you fool, you would send these men on a suicide mission?- This artifact, it would be interesting to get a glimpse of it, to understand why this fool was so desperate for it. Though she ordinarily had no use for Sith trinkets, in this new era, it was important to understand how much they'd evolved, how much this golem Luke Skywalker rose to match them and then, in matching exceeding.

A veteran, excellent, though she was disappointed that none of the original clones seemed to remain. He had the look of a man who had tasted both the highest of victories and the most bitter of defeats, a man who wasn't demoralized but neither was he still confident in the mantle he inherited and the reputation and legacy his nearly vanquished legion commanded. She paused some two meters from them and regarded them with fierce eyes, her posture shifting from one of a serpent at hunt to a Lothalan wolf seeking to command her pack. "You were at Endor" the faintest glimmer of surprise shifted over cheek muscles kneaded into dough by scar tissue and quickly concealed impressed her. Vader might have been an abomination but he kept his soldiers at their best.

The Captain turned at attention, facing her as she addressed him. A force of habit drilled into these soldiers from the moment they entered the academy.

"Yes, Ma'am. I was." Short and simple. This man was a real soldier.

The woman allowed herself a short, curt nod as she folded slender arms behind a straight back, resting them above her hips as she met the man in his eyes. She could almost sense the resentment brimming below some of them at the mention of Endor, how maligned they must be. "I've read of your legions history, its victories in the Clone wars, its pacifications and hunting down the last of the separatist holdouts during the early years of the Empire. Whenever I viewed eyewitness testimony to your bravery the men and women always spoke in such hushed tones, a reverence that had once been reserved only for Jedi and the Mandalorians. But now..." she trailed off, they didn't need to be reminded of how maligned and dismissed they were since Endor. "How does the vaunted Vader's first lose to a bunch of primitives..they must ask" Miryia, almost shook her head, allowing a subtle shift in its posture and a look of contempt for the one doing the asking. "The main enemy of Ewoks are giants who dwarf your largest Walkers, Ewoks defeat them more oft than not..Anyone who dismisses that is a fool. Tell me Trooper, what was the mood the day of before the Emperor arrived and was Grand Admiral Declann with him?"

An odd question to be sure, but the woman was leading them to a point, some exchanged silent looks but it impressed her, none spoke up even if the topic was raw.

"He was ma'am. I spoke with Lord Vader prior to being sent to the Moon. However, he dismissed my concerns over the local population. It wasn't my place to question his orders."

Yet here he was, speaking ill of his now deceased superiors. She could see it on his face though, frustration and just a bit of shame. She could tell that he knew it was a bad idea, yet he was forced to send his men in anyway or face punishment from Vader himself.

"And in the final battle, on the second day after the initial failed raid you proceeded to abandon all sense and fight like a bunch of crazed podracers on Spice am I correct?" She asked, her voice like iron, tugging on the lingering embers of the fires of infamy, though the force surrounded her she had no need to use it to amplify their emotions, or to arouse their intensity. A promise would soon be made that she had no intention of ever breaking with the Five Hundred and First. "Was Grand Admiral Declann ever seen during the entirety of the battle of Endor? Or was it solely Grand Admiral Teshik and high Admiral Piet?" The woman's voice grew harder, yet lost none of the colonial eloquence that Arkanian nobility were known for. "You fought stupidly, contrary to your nature? How much sleep have you lost since Endor wondering why you fought like senseless fools Trooper? Be candid with me"

Everything below the catwalk seemed to stop at once. The technicians stopped moving supplies arouns, soldiers stopped talking, and everyone's attention was fixated on their Captain and Myria.

"My men have never been in worse shape. We haven't won a battle since Lord Vader died aboard the Death Star. They are tired, unmotivated, and directionless. Ma'am, with all due respect... we've been sent out here to die."
Seems this Captain Cardinal was sharper than most. He knew the situation he was in, but had given up fighting. He was frustrated, but had nothing to vent that on.

Her eyes flashed this time, she let real emotion show, an intense fire that burned below the mask of the regal killer, one brimming with a warriors pride, with respect, with hard won experience and below that a madness that had devoured worlds. "That's because" her voice raised now, echoing like a crack of thunder over the slow ebbing silence. "You were under a spell!" she spat "Battle meditation, an ancient power invented by an order called the Bendu who with song could turn frightened farmers into unstoppable berserkers! Perfected by the Jedi it would turn the burning fires in the hearts of soldiers into a roaring inferno that made their minds sharper, their focus keener, their reflexes faster, it enhanced their tactical nous and reminded them that fear was a mere illusion! It was designed to inspire but Sith..cowardly drug addicts that they were perverted it into a profane art that slaved the minds of their soldiers, their admirals and their technicians. And your Emperor trusted a pathetic amateur like Declann to reinforce his powers over you! They took you, their finest warriors and made of you chattel! Fodder and they sent you against sentient devouring savages who fight behemoths as a past time and a horde of terrorists commanded by a drug runner turned revolutionary General..Men you should have crushed under foot! A fleet you should have broken!" her voice began to rise until at the last she shouted and let loose a shockwave through the force, designed to touch their hearts to show them that while she possessed this power..She would never disrespect them by using it upon them. "YOUR EMPEROR FAILED YOU AT ENDOR! NOT YOU! YOU WHO ARE CHAMPIONS OF ORDER!"

Miryia threw up a hand, her palm tore and dark purple blood began to trickle down her wrist "None of you know me, but I am Miryia Farlina of House Janus! Master of the Jedi Order, commander of the Expansion region fleets! The "butcher of Ziost!" "The breaker of Yavin 4" "The she wolf of Onderon!" now she began using the titles by which she suspected, many an academic student studying military tactics would have known. "I am the one who broke Mandalore the Unrelenting and ate the hearts of his sons! And I swear to you, in two centuries of warfare I never once insulted those I commanded by drugging them with common trickery! And I swear to you, by my own blood..By the force..together"
"We...Will..reclaim the honor of the Five Hundred and First.."

One of the younger female troopers sitting on a crate, stood up and raised her fist. "For the Empire!" She exclaimed, making all the Stormtroopers smile and chant the same phrase. Cardinal couldn't help but smile. So many weeks of decay and depression. For the first time, he saw his soldiers energized and ready for battle. But before he could say anything, Admiral Karius spoke through the ship's speakers.

"Crew, be advised. We are about to enter Onderon space. Be prepared for potential resistance. Captain Cardinal. Miryia, prepare to land on the suface."

"For the Empire" Miryia allowed herself to whisper, joining in the chorus but leaving the majority of the zeal to her "men". As if compelled by fate it was Admiral Karius who spoke, his metallic voice announcing their entry into Onderonian space, here again after so long. She held position, taking in every second of the cheering, of the roaring, taking in the fires, the growth in moral. -One heart at a time, soon, those Moffs shall be mine- her thoughts obscured behind a slight smile she adopted.

And as the cheers went down she was the first to walk towards the Hangar. "We will fly through atmosphere at maximum velocity and slow only when we're ontop of them. Enter hard, fast and we kill as few as possible. There is a relic, possibly Sith in manufacture. Leave that to me, let us buy ourselves as much time as possible. Let them bleed if we must, but I forbid any of you from dying, you are not regular army rabble or an ordinary Storm Trooper legion, you are Empire's fist"

with a wave of her hand several crates of munitions flew into the shuttle "Captain....Troopers, let us make haste"

Yavin IV,
New Republic Citadel

"We're not going over this again..." Mon Mothma tried not to roll her eyes as General Garm Bel-Iblis rose from his seat again walking over to the floor of the makeshift Republic Senate chamber. Once there, he walked up to the podium where Chancellor Mon Mothma stood. He looked at her square in the eyes and continued.

"I must bring it up again because it seems that in every session of this here Senate we keep walking dangerously close to making peace with the Empire." The weathered General stood his ground, looking up at Mothma who was standing behind the podium in an elevated position. The Chancellor herself looked tired but stood her ground as well.

"General, the Emergency Council is debating what position the New Republic will take. We'll bring up a series of solutions to the current crisis once deliberations have ended." This was not the first time the two Rebel leaders clashed. For weeks, Garm Bel-Iblis and Mon Mothma had become the figureheads of two opposing factions within the Republic. Those who desired a white peace with the Empire and those who wanted to continue the war. Mothma led those who were seeking a truce with the Empire while Garm Bel-Iblis led those who wanted to pool the Alliance's resources to attack the Empire one final time and end the war once and for all. Over the last few months, the founding members of the Rebel Alliance had become bitter rivals.

"Of course. The Council!" Bel-Iblis turned to face the Senators in the chamber. "The Council that is unaccountable to this Senate and the people of the Republic. A Council that meets in secret under heavy guard. What are you hiding, Chancellor?" Bel-Iblis turned on his heels, facing the Chancellor from across the room.

"Are you accusing me of treason, General? We built this alliance together-"

Bel-Iblis interrupted her, "And you seem determined to destroy what we have fought for. All for the sake of peace!"

"Enough! This meeting is adjourned." Declared the Chancellor, as Bel-Iblis went quiet.

"So be it." The General turned for the door, storming out of the chamber along with several Senators who supported him. Nearly one quarter of the chamber was empty by the time they were gone.

Thule

The sound of blaster bolts could be heard to a deafening degree
“Stop right there!” a Stormtroopers voice filtered through his helmet shouted at the intruder

The soldier was cut down at the loud clang and sizzle of a Vibroblade

“He’s got Royal Guard Training! Pull back!!”

Another slash silenced the voice, followed by the swishing of something sharp being thrown

Footsteps could be heard as a single man advanced to a panel door to a seemingly abandoned temple.

“As damn creepy as Bast Castle...lets hope they never changed the codes…” The man said as he put in numbers on a key lock outside the temple but saw it required a key. He had to find an Officer first.

“Who are you?” A new Stormtrooper demanded.

“Lets see some ID!” A second stormtrooper sounded off.

“You guys need to get better responses I swear.” The Man said unphased as he readied his Dual Blade as electricity crackled from it.

Yavin IV,
New Republic Citadel



Witnessing firsthand how fractured High Command was becoming had hit Nareia much harder than she believed possible. She heard the rumors; Mon Mothma’s belief in a peaceful solution was respectable, to say the least, but Garm’s pursuit for absolute victory resonated with her more—as it should with anyone who has fought and bled for the Rebel Alliance. Though she tried to sympathize with the Chancellor’s position, Nareia couldn’t find it in her to take her side on the matter. The Imperial Remnant was a threat not only to them, but to every civilized world that had the courage to defy them. That didn’t change with the victory at Endor.

The meeting abruptly concluded, and she could breathe again. For a moment there, she thought Garm insane enough to separate himself from the New Republic and form his own splinter group. There was enough restlessness in the hangar bays and the barracks to create a sizable attack force, but the resulting recruitment could cause a minor civil war. Garm was a courageous man with many years of tactical experience under his belt. Men and women from all branches of the New Republic’s fighting forces respected him—herself included. If anyone could lead the New Republic to victory, it was him.

“You think he’ll do it?”

Nareia glanced at the man close beside her, shoulder-to-shoulder. “No.”

Rayce gave her a slight nod before peering down at the emptying chamber. The collection of men and women around them were quick to depart and debate among themselves. By trying to cut the conversation short, Mon Mothma only succeeded in starting more. Garm would almost assuredly pull more support between them. If that were to happen…

“I can see why Wedge doesn’t attend these meetings often,” she said softly, her voice barely audible even to Rayce. “If we can’t fight the Empire then we’re just fighting each other. Everyone’s on edge. Sooner or later, people might—"

“Rebel?” Rayce joked somberly. “But you’re right. And if that were to happen, and the Remnant makes a move, the New Republic might collapse before it’s fully risen.”

Nareia drifted from the balcony’s edge and turned away, Rayce instinctively following close beside her. The pair shuffled out of the building together and exchanged pleasantries with the others. None dare bring up the meeting just yet. There would be talk of it later tonight and undoubtedly over a game of pazaak; whiskey was included; rum, too. Whatever Kyrin brought to the table, it wouldn’t leave unless it was emptied.

“I don’t know about Ackbar, but Dodonna and Madine have gotta be itching to end this.” Nareia continued once out of earshot of others. “We’ve got Alara doing patrols with Marvo and Noob wherever she can. Kyrin, well, if there’s a good cantina involved, he’ll be sure to patrol that sector. And Wedge might be looking to add some newer blood.”

“Not much point. We’re grounded.” Rayce shook his head before looking skyward; a pair of X-wings were returning to the Massassi Temple nearby. Another patrol, waiting for anything. “If General Iblis finds something for us to hit, what are you thinking?”

“You mean what side I’m on?” Nareia turned to Rayce while keeping step. “The Remnant can’t be allowed to regain strength; every day we waste here while Mon Mothma tries to find a peaceful solution, they’re rebuilding warships and conscripting more soldiers. Rogue Squadron isn’t the only battle group wasting away out here.”

Rayce nodded thoughtfully. “Kyrin’s been itching to do something bold. Alara’s the complete opposite; she’s content learning the B-wing for now.”

“Gold Squadron.” Nareia reflected on the unit’s skill with bombers; they agreed to take Alara out earlier that morning. “She’s in good hands.”

The two continued their trek across the temple grounds and passed multiple craft; fighters, freighters, and supply ships sat idle. Like the pilots that handled them, these ships—resources for war, and for liberation—wasted away. It pained her to see the New Republic she fought for be in such a sad state.

Entering the hangar bay of Rogue Squadron, Nareia and Rayce cast eyes on their own idle ships, well maintained and in prime condition, before continuing forward. After several addresses between those they knew, the duo approached Wedge Antilles.

“It went just as you thought it would,” Nareia started, “and just like you thought, Mon Mothma and Garm still can’t come to an agreement. We’re stuck here for the foreseeable future.”

“There has to be something for us by now, Wedge.” Rayce’s voice filled with hope. “We all know this isn’t over. Any word from our spies? Anything at all?”

"The Senate members may think they are running things, but they are only acting in a shadow play. We are tired of serving their weakness, and we will work toward our own ends from now on. The Sith Brotherhood controls the galaxy.”-Exar Kun





“I do not see the purpose of taking my flesh and using it to create such an abomination Lord Kun.”

“Of all my disciples you are of the few who willingly joined me, and your resistance to pain is a useful trait for what is next to come...Sion.”

“Taking my genes and making something to weak and Servile is a perversion of what I am Lord. Even if it is for your sake it offends me.”

“I sense conflict in you...is this fear of a rival? Of being replaced? Sion as long as you continue your great work of slaying those Jedi fools in the pogrom I will never tire of you...having an army of beings based off of you and Massasi Genome will bolster our forces you simply cannot hord what makes you unique from our Empire.”

“At least have it resemble something like a Warrior not..that!”

Sion pointed to a girl in simple servant robes of that of the Old Sith Empire. She looked at the two Sith with a blank stare with an emotionless look on her face. She barely responded to Sions gesturing at her.

“Patience Sion, as an assassin yourself you must realize there is power in taking something weaklings would aspire to protect...and have it turn on them. Remember the weakness of our inferiors, their naive trust in the “innocent”, their inability to understand the true depths of the force, that leaves the blind fools of the Republic vulnerable to our Brotherhood.”

“My way is one of the Assassin and the Warrior Lord Kun, I am a master of the blade and this fragile creature couldn’t survive its first duel.”

“Don’t underestimate my craftsmanship Sion, if you are so confident in yourself kill her.”

Sion looked at the Dark Lord quizzically with a raised eyebrow.

“Go on don’t be shy almighty Sith Warrior. Kill her.”

Shrugging Sion reached for his blade and prepared to cut the innocent young girl down with his orange saber. Taking an offensive stance Sion raised his blade and lept at the innocent Servant before him while letting off a savage yell.

Shrieking in terror at the encroaching Sith Marauder the girls hands began glowing with a familiar energy from her hands. Before the Lord of Pain could connect his blade to her he was blasted out of the temple by a purple lance of energy.

“Now look at what you’ve done child, you ruined a perfectly good wall I just had the Massasi fortify it.” Kun jested at his creation and his Acolyte as she looked at him with confusion over his tone.

“I guess I will have to teach you sarcasm as well soon enough don’t I? I'm absolutely certain you know basic as well as Massasi, you just lack a proper...spark, it's a shame I ran out of pieces of that Holocron. Come child let us find your Masochist prognator.”


Kun loomed over his acolyte as he laid incapacitated on the ground.

“I see you are enjoying a well earned rest Sion, thank you for helping me test its reaction time.”
“What in Chaos is that thing? It could fire energy like you! I didn’t even sense it!”

“Of course you couldn’t, it can make itself small in the force to fool jedi, its an old Jedi technique one of many I managed to discover in my travels. I based it off of research I found off of Sadow’s creation the Dark reaper and applied it to biological creatures, it is a living engine of the Dark Side. ”

Sion’s eyes widened in shock.

“I almost could have died against something like the Harvester!”

“It cannot kill you...you are a unique entity in the force even I feel it. The Reaper itself could not cut you down because of it nor can this girl based from its power, it's why I chose you to demonstrate anyone else would be dust..”

“Unique are you saying I am immortal?” Sion responded as he slowly rose up

“Your will is strong even this display shows your power Sion,as a Warrior you are paralleled by no one save myself and my own apprentice. But you feed off the force you parasite from it and it gives you power, not even being blown out of the room seemed to have injured you grievously.”

“I am truly invincible?”

“Now do you see why I chose you, normal flesh cannot contain such great power but one like yourself a master of pain and agony? Absolutely.”

“Yes my Master.” Sion bowed to Kun with the Girl standing beside Kun like a younger sibling.

“Now go, pile up more mounds of dead we must resurrect the Glory of the Sith Empire.” Kun said to Sion before he turned his back to Sion to depart as the girl remained still gawking at Sion.

“Come child you have much to learn when I am back from Ossus, I need to put you away for now.” Kun bid the girl to follow him back to the temple and she left the clearing to follow the Dark Lord.

When Nareia and Rayce arrived at the Rogue Squadron hangar, they found Wedge speaking to one of the astromech droids next to his X-Wing. The unit and Antilles seemed to be arguing over something, with Wedge pointing at a data pad in his hand and the unit insisting otherwise. When Rayce and Nareia showed up, he seemed to sigj in relief.

"Unfortunately, no." He said, placing the data pad on top of a crate before walking toward the duo near the entrance. The astromech unit beeped at him and then rolled away. "And like I said, politicians will always be the same. Anyway, like you said-" Wedge leaned against the nose of his X-Wing as he spoke., "We're probably not getting off this planet for a while."

Rayce shook his head disappointedly, while Nareia pursed her lips and held her tongue. It wouldn’t be of much surprise to anyone that out of every available fighter squadron, it was the Rogues who wanted to hit the Remnant the most. General Iblis and his cadre of sympathetic senators wouldn’t need to look far to find sympathy among the New Republic’s fighting forces.

“So, we’re just being used for propaganda?” Rayce asked, looking between Nareia and Wedge. “Does she want an air show over Chandrila? We do a few spins and somersaults—let the people feel a little good when we all know this isn’t over yet?”

“This fracture is only getting larger, Wedge.” Nareia nodded at the data pad he tossed aside. “What’s that?”

Wedge sighed as soon Nareia mentioned the datapad. "Droid's being all uptight about something on the ship. I told him it's fine. Something about protocol. These new droids they've sent us are terrible."

Before the conversation could go any further, Wedge's eyes shifted to someone coming up behind Nareia. It was a junior officer running up to the hangar as fast as he could. By his uniform, Wedge could tell it was one of command's technicians. Once he arrived, the young technician nearly fell over. He bent down, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“To be fair, droids have a hard time thinking beyond the scope of their own programming,” Nareia said.

“Don’t let ZeeZee catch you saying—” Rayce cut himself off and looked over his shoulder as Nareia did. A young man—a technician of some kind based on his getup—hustled up to them. Before he could get a word out, he doubled over from exhaustion.

“What’s going on?” Nareia was the first among them to ask.

At the mention of Madine, both Nareia and Rayce exchanged looks. If General Madine was calling for them, it was undoubtedly worthwhile. Neither of them would say it out loud, but if this was what they believed it to be, then there was hope for the New Republic yet.

“I’ll grab Kyrin; you grab Alara and meet us outside?” Rayce asked.

“That works. I just need to pull her from her books. You’ll have to pull him from pazaak.”

“Oh joy, my favorite hobby,” Rayce said dryly. Nareia gave the technician a grateful pat on the shoulder before hustling towards the barracks. Rayce gave a nod to Wedge and entrusted him to gather the rest before he, too, ran off.

Assembling the missing pair hadn’t taken long; Kyrin was more than eager to collect his credits and leave the pazaak table, giving the losers a wolfish grin before hustling to suit up. Alara saved her position in her latest book, “The Wroshyr and the Wookiees”, and suited up quickly. The two pairs managed to meet up around the same time and, with helmets beneath their arms, collectively entered the command room.

Nareia nodded curtly at General Madine before exchanging silent greetings to the rest of the assembled Rogues. She stood as closely beside Wedge as was allowed; Rayce, in turn, joined beside her; Alara squeezed in beside Rayce, leaving Kyrin to close her between the two men. All Rogues were accounted for.

The group huddled around a holo table, usually used to display ongoing battles. Though this time, it was being used to showcase a planet. After a brief exchange with an aide, Madine stepped forward.

"I apologize for calling you all here on such short notice. But everyone else is off-world, and I need an experienced crew on top of this." With a cane he was holding under his arm, he pointed at the planet. The image also included a lone star destroyer in orbit.

"About two hours ago, our agents in Onderon reported the arrival of a Star Destroyer. It orbited the planet for a few minutes before deploying ground units to the capital. The base there has a small garisson of special agents who work for New Republic Intelligence. While I would trust them to keep the base a secret, I worry that the commanding officer of that ship could compromisr their position."

Madine sighed, as he changed the display. Now, the holotable showed the image of an Imperial Officer. He was more machine than man. Half of his face was replaced with a prosthetic, and the entire right shoulder and arm were also cynernetics.

"This is Fleet Admiral Gable Karius. I had the unfortunate 'honor' to meet him in person. He's ruthless and obsessesed with perfection. If he's in Onderon, then he is looking for our base there. Your mission is simple, you will head out there with a small fleet, retrieve the special forces and return home. Any questions?"

Each of them remained silent and attentive as General Madine explained the situation. It was Wedge who asked the more pressing questions. Reinforcements would come if they hit hard and fast. That was Rogue Squadron’s MO, and if the Empire hadn’t learned by now, they will.

Nareia inched forward. “If you lend us enough bomber support with that cruiser, we can take that Star Destroyer out. I know our primary objective is evacuation, but this is a chance at further crippling the Remnant’s ability to strike back at us.”

“In other words, we’re Rogue Squadron,” Kyrin bluntly cut in. “We can do both.”

“A GR-75 and a couple of us to cover it. That can leave the rest of the fleet to take out this Admiral,” Rayce added. “He can’t be expecting us to come in with force.”

“Unless…” Alara quietly started; the gazes of her comrades turned towards her, ears perked and expressions welcoming. Wedge may be Rogue Leader, but a squadron wasn’t comprised of one person. She was still learning that her input was appreciated. “Unless there’s something down there he wants. If he suspected there’s a base, he could just bombard it from orbit. He either wants the data they’ve obtained, or he wants the agents. Why go through the trouble of sending ground troops otherwise?”

"He's looking for something." Madine reluctantly admitted. "This is no ordinary New Republic facility. The forces there are keeping a special item under their protection. It is most likely what's he's after."

Antilles gave a worried glance to the rest of the squadron. This whole mission sounded like a bad idea. He felt like Madine was not giving them the whole story, and while he understood the need for screcy sometimes he was about to risk the lives of his squadron for something he barely knew anything about.
"What is this item? And why does a cyborg Imperial officer want it?"

"That's on a need-to-know basis. And right now, your squadron doesn't need to know." Madine gestured at the image of Karius on the hologram. "Another thing, this mission was authorized by the Chancellor. She wants you to focus on rescuing our agents. Rules of engagement are to only engage if engaged."

Wedge assumed Mon Mothma was doing this partly as a show of strength. Not only was she sending the best to retrieve a bunch of Alliance officers, but she also seemed ready to use force if necessary. Mothma was playing a dangerous game here. But, Wedge wasn't interested. While he could have put up a fight with Madine over the confidentisl information, he decided against it. Tensions were already high enough.

All of them had something to add to Madine’s explanation. But like Wedge, they reserved their comments and feelings and instead looked to him for his orders.

As Wedge and the rest of Rogue Squadron got ready in their hangar, a familiar figure approached. Wearing black robes and followed by three other Jedi, Luke Skywalker walked up to Wedge who was once again arguing with his droid.

"Still fighting with that droid?" Luke piped up, cracking a smile as he heard Wedge sigh.

"Yeah, it won't shut up about the foils." The two old friends chuckled as the droid beeped angrily and rolled away.

"So, what can I do for you?" Said Wedge, glancing at the Jedi Master and his two apprentices behind Luke.

"Let me introduce you. This is Jedi Master Kale and his apprentices Lahara and Aren." Said Skywalker, gesturing at the trio. Aren, a young Human from Sereno waved at Wedge.

"It's an honor to meet you." He said, giving him a smile. Wedge couldn't help but smile back. Seems he was inspiring more people than just pilots.

Lahana blinked at the squad of pilots. She'd heard they were good, but not much else. Luke had already introduced her so she really didn't need to do that, right? Aren spoke, apparently he'd heard of them as well. Was it an honor? She couldn't say she felt any reverence. She made note of how many there were, and their faces. She wondered for a moment just how well a pilot could fight face to face, but only for a moment. Kale told her such thoughts were... Problematic.

"I have heard a great many things about this squadron. I must say I couldn't think of a better escort." Kale said, giving a subtle respectful nod to Wedge.

"Honor's mine, Master Jedi. Couldn't have asked for a better group to get our people back home safely. We'll make sure you guys don't get blown up in space."

Wedge chuckled, giving Kale a wink before putting on his gloves. "I'll see you guys at the cruiser." Said Antilles as he turned around to climb onto the cockpit of his X-Wing.

Luke then led Kale and his two apprentices to a nearby shuttle where they would be transported to the cruiser in orbit.

Stepping out of the shuttle onto the Mon Calamari cruiser, Lahana anxiously fiddled with the blaster strapped to her hip. Her master didn't like her carrying it, but he relented when it became abundantly clear that it was important to her. She hadn't been more than a few feet away from a blaster for most of her life. And on more than one occasion it was the difference between life and death. "I'm... Going to prepare." She said in a low voice to Kale before walking into the hanger. She avoided eye contact as she spotted a tool box and began rummaging through it to find a hydrospanner to do maintenance on her blaster.

An elderly man stood before a Holoprojector, this man was better known as Count Dooku the Leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems and Dark Lord of the Sith. The projection turned on and revealed a hooded figure before him. But it was not that of his Sith Master Sidious, but his enigmatic stand in the Umbaran Shadow woman his predecessor gracelessly “Recruited”.
Her perception altering powers could work on lesser minds but not the Counts, he saw past the woman's pathetic ruse. However he did not question her presence his master was likely preoccupied with his dealings in the Republic. Tyrannus could not tolerate this Moore creature treating him like a common lackey. Regrettably she was his Master's many eyes in addition to being the only few souls aware of the Grand plan.

“Are all things prepared for Skywalkers assault Lord Tyrannus?”

“Yes the boy has learned Ulic Qel Droma’s technique and it will draw him even deeper into the Dark Sides hold during the upcoming battle.” The Counts face formed a prideful smirk, all this warfare was for the Grand Plans success and the formation of a Sith Army, a collective saber at the Galaxy’s throat. It's a shame this creature would also have a place in it.

“What of the artifacts of Exar Kun have there been any traces of his Sithspawn derivatives here?”

“No I think he began the project not too long after the Jedi Deactivated the Reaper in the Great Sith War. The trail is cold.”

“We must have results, Skywalker is the prize yes but the Jedi must not have access to Homunculus.” Moore hid her vexation from the servant, he was too deluded and prideful to understand how expendable he truly was once Skywalker turned. He could at least do something right before his time was over.

“It is most likely on other worlds the Sith Brotherhood held in its endgame.” Reporting to the Shadow Woman ruined the Counts good mood, a Near Human had no place ordering him about in imitation of his Master like a mere servant. She wanted his position that much was obvious from the look of her inhuman gaze.

“It needs to be found at once Lord Tyrannus, are the preparations in the Sith Temple ready for occupation? Our Master requests it is untouched by the battle here he has great plans for its secrets for his New Order.”

“It will be done; Kun’s base of Operations Was the World of Yavin. Perhaps you should investigate the most obvious choice.”

“Noted...do not fail the Master.” The Projector shut down.

Umbaran witch, who are you to pretend you are my better? Tyrannus thought to himself.

Why Lord Sidious Depended upon her was beyond him. Was Sidious punishing me by sending this weakling to scold me? Tyrannus wondered. He knew her history her true nature, she was nothing more than a scared child his master built up as a willing pawn. He would learn from this indignity and allow it to fuel his hatred for the days to come.

Moore sat in her personal chambers her replica of her Masters cloak discarded; as usual she did not display visible emotion.

That fool servant, of course he would pass on the most obvious answer to the Master. Lord Sidious needs to be absolutely certain before acting. He knew taking orders from something Near Human chafed him it's why he did it. Silly old man, and he still believes Sidious has plans for a future with him AND Skywalker. Moore activated a comlink on her desk.

“Get me an archeologist team, the most expendable you have available.”

“Yes Staff Aide Moore.”

A Tall yellow green skinned Humanoid in the typical robes of a scientist adorned with excavation tools surveyed the area inside the former base of Exar Kun and. He was puzzled, he had no means to access the front of the temple so he urged his colleagues and their hired help to dig instead to the lower chambers.

After much backbreaking labor from his peers and their students the dig site bore fruit... a hidden chamber. The Doctor desired to see for himself the inscriptions and hieroglyphs inside for translation. He had to find the prize requested by Sly Moore she would not tolerate failure.

Raygar stood outside of the entrance of the dig site waiting for someone to tell him of a finding.

“Doctor Raygar! We have found something.” A voice in the distance signaled

“Good, be careful to not activate any trap-”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Before his warning was heeded a yell could be heard

“...I told that fool to be careful. Raygar could only shrug at that students incompetence.

Raygar approached the Chamber entrance slowly, each step was carefully made even outside of the hidden chamber he suspected traps. He came across his peers and the dig team members terrified by the gory end of the student who signaled his finding to Raygar rather than watching his surroundings properly. The student was pinned to the wall by massive spikes that he stupidly activated by stepping on a hidden panel. Some of the crewmen ran out of the tunnel screaming as Raygar arrived.

“Why can’t you fools look before you leap?”

“Doctor you didn’t say this would be dangerous!” One of Raygar’s peers demanded him

“I needed to be certain you would go with a lucrative venture, safety be damned. We have research to do.”

The distraught peer of Raygar grabbed the scientist by his shirt.

“One of my Students are dead Raygar! Listen to me we are going back to Coruscant to tell Moore and Amedda we failed and you will compensate my students family!”

Raygar observed another stone panel on the nearby wall .
“Ah why don’t we just...cut your share out in addition?” Raygar pushed the other man into a fake brick in a nearby wall and ducked.

A wall opened up revealing holes in the wall that began to shoot darts that riddled the grieving Archeologist with pins tipped with Sith Nurotoxins. His eyes began to bleed as he began to spasm violently until he fell to the ground lifelessly.

Raygar slowly rose up after his peers fall and looked at his fellow scientists, their students and the digger team.

“Now does anyone else want to leave empty handed?”



The excavation continued with no further casualties thanks to Raygars guidance, his knowledge of the ruins itself was thanks to Sly Moore’s data. The Argazdan carried a smug demeanor addressing his peers at this point. Why wouldn’t he be proud about the new finds, that Shadow Woman opened Raygar up to a history only spoken to in legends!. To think the Jedi fools would suppress such knowledge from the common man...the hubris of those ivory tower dullards adhering to a long eared midget.

The recent acquisitions included a Chalice and an amazing frieze depicting a great battle, but it was not all of it. Raygar traveled deeper into the uncovered chambers and found several great capsules. One belonging to a massive transparent pod, a reptilian creature could be seen stirring in the pod as if it was a second womb. A warning in Massasi could be scribbled on its antiquated life support device.

<<Do not stir the wrath of Exar Kun, lest you dare to unleash Kalgarth the Night Beast!>>

Raygar as keen as he was in investigating this hidden Bioweapon its warning implied risking awakening the creature was far above his pay grade. He proceeded to investigate the smaller devices in nearby chambers, he had to be sure to find a way to avoid activating anything...Raygar had a better idea cross his mind.

“I have found something come here, and don’t touch the pod in the other room for the love of Via!” he said to the rest of the team.

The remaining members of the crew present they all marveled at the strange cylinders, each one contained a more Humanoid figure compared to the so called Night Beast in the previous chamber.

“Doctor Raygar what do you suggest we do?’”

“First have some students take the artifacts back to the ship and return. The rest of you keep investigating, there is a great power here.”

“We have enough Raygar, just because you fancy yourself some kind of Argazdan slave lord doesn’t mean our students are cheap labor!” One of his fellow Archeologists complained.

“Fine if you don’t want to make yourself useful I will have to encourage you!” The Argazdan pulled out a blaster shocking the scientist. Raygar waved the Pistol in the direction his unfortunate peer should move in.

“This is Madness Raygar! I’ll have your career for this!” The researcher shouted impotently as he moved forward.

“Not if you keep moving…” Raygar retorted while smiling wickedly.

The scientist realized he was doomed as he stepped upon a switch that activated a red beam that sliced the archeologist in half like he was twine.

The rest of the team just looked in horrified silence.

“Come the risk is worth the reward here, prepare a grav loader at once. We have a full haul…”

When Miryia and the 501st landed on the outskirts of Iziz, they began a sweep of the surrounding areas. Intel was sketchy at best on the exact location of the base. This forced them to look around a general area, which is the best Imperial Intelligence could give them. Despite their best efforts, the group was forced to enter the city. At Miryia's orders, the Stormtroopers changed into a series of disguises and managed to enter Iziz without alerting the local authorities. When she entered the city, Miryia couldn't help but sense a disturbance in the Force. Whoever it was, they were making enough of a ripple that she could sense it. Though, it was obvious that they were hiding it. Before she could investigate any further, her commlink beeped.

"Commander, come in. We found something. Seems the Rebels hid their base inside a local cantina. We've locked down the establishment. Orders?"

Now that was interesting, she'd felt it, for the briefest of moments a being possessed of some power in the force, one doing its best to hide itself. For the briefest seconds it seemed almost confounded as if it was trying to perceive something to search. The ripples faded and for the first time since her awakening the ancient Jedi caught a whiff of the mechanisms and methods by which the modern force users wielded the force. -Not that much has changed, but they call out to the force, rather than looking within to call out- a breeze passed through city streets and her cloak was pressed against her body casting a hooded shadow out before her.

Her commlink went off in that moment and she very nearly missed it, being lost in the analyses of the power she felt. "Hold position, instruct Captain Cardinal to look for for any vaults or sealed rooms but only unlock them, I'll be there in a moment"

She'd reached out with the force as they entered the city, Onderon was always a place of power in the darkside, but there was something, new and yet ancient here, something concentrated beyond mere localized disturbances. While she wouldn't be certain until she breached, the former Jedi Master had an idea of what waited for them and that needed a specialized hand.

When Miryia arrived at the cantina, one of the 501st soldiers was waiting outside. He was doing a good job pretending to talk to one of his comrades. Both of them were holding drinks and blending in with the busy streets of the city. Two police officers passed by and they didn't even notice them standing there. Once inside, Miryia saw that most of the squad was sitting around in the Cantina. Most were blending in, except for Cardinal who was standing near the bar right in front of the clearly terrified bartender. Off to the side, there was a shelf that was half opened, one of the Stormtroopers was standing near it covering most of the entrance.

As she walked towards the Cantina, two of the "patrons" leaning lazily on the outside locked eyes with her and she nodded her head. It was a testament to just how profoundly foolish much of the Remnants leadership was that these warriors could fake drunkenness so perfectly because they likely had spent most of the intervening months since Endor in an alcoholic stupor.

As the municipal law officers passed them Miryia's purple eyes focused on the building itself and she had to suppress a nostalgic chuckle. One of the "drunks" noticed and she shook her head, it was a story she might tell them later, one day perhaps when it was necessary to further the goal of earning their loyalty.

Cardinal stood, a statue ready to attack any who dared enter, standing sentry and Miryia turned to eye the frightened bar tender. Upon laying eyes on the men she couldn't help but smile, a regal smile that barely hid the predators glint in her eyes. "you there?" she queried her features shifting as she began to slowly advance towards him, the air around the cantina began to grow cold and then heavy as though an animal of some sort, barely able to fit inside the cantina had taken up a seat.

"Where are you from?" she queried, it was such a mundane question but there was an edge to the question as if it was more a pretext to attack, though whether the power that suddenly enveloped the room was a mere show to scare the bar tender, or a message to another, or her preparing to do something.

Her left hand rose, an expensive bottle of Chandrillan brandy floated from the shelf and began to dance in the air before it landed in one of the "drunken" troopers laps. "That, is very fine liquor for a backwater, even one in the inner rim"

"I don't doubt it" Simple payments, was never enough when one wanted to conscript an Onderonian to do your bidding, they always required finesse, an exchange of goods, a façade of manufactured honor to paint a nice cover over the reality that they were selling themselves to the highest bidder, or whoever offered them a handout first. "I believe" she began, her voice remaining its usual melodiously formal tone, only now a hint of something feral joined the chorus that left her voice box. "that might be the only honest answer, you'll give me. But I'll give you one chance, one chance to tell me where the relic is" she paused there and gently "tugged" him closer, close enough that her fingers ran across his chin. "I'm no Sith, I can keep your brain functioning long after you've taken any suicide pills you might have been given. I can pull the information from you brain, but it will likely leave you mentally impaired for the rest of your days, I don't want to do this to you...But I will. So do not lie to me Bartender do not so much as omit a truth"

Her eyes fluttered to the Captain, the look in them implied she wanted his men ready to move soon.

The bartender started to shake in sheer fear. He also started sweating, avoiding Miryia's stare as much as he could.
"P-please. The Alliance paid me to use the cellar for an operation of theirs. I-I just took the money. Didn't think anything of it! The Empire was gone..."

Cardinal drew a smaller datapad from a bag that hung from his left shoulder. Placing it on the table, it showed a chart with a series of communications between the bar and known New Republic planets.

"You're a spy." Cardinal declared, pointing at the history of communications. "You have been feeding intel to the Rebels since the War began. Where is the artifact?"

The Bartender froze as he saw the evidence before him. "Wait! I'll tell you... They brought something in here a few months ago! It made me sick for a few days. They keep it in one of the vaults down there. Please! It's all I know!"

Having been found out, the bartender broke down sobbing. It didn't take long for them to draw out the information from him. Seems the New Republic was losing its touch.

One of the Storm Troopers rose from a table, walking forward a hand reaching for his pistol only to stop as Miryia shook her head lightly. No, there was no need to kill this one though what he'd said of the item confirmed her suspicions and made her eyes hardened and burn with a lust that would have boiled illum or Hoth if it had been focused into a laser. Her fingers coiled around the man's chin and she brought his face to meet hers. "You know of your history, during the New Sith Wars, the Jedi Master who destroyed the Fortress here? The one who slew most of the men over twenty in this wretched city millennia ago? What was it you called her? The She wolf?" Miryia smiled, slowly allowing him to glimpse her face allowing him to realize who she was. "Tell the rest of your people, that she has returned and that Onderon no longer belongs to the Rebel alliance..and if you so much as a breathe a word of intelligence to them unless its false intelligence we provide, I shall return to this world and burn it to ash" rising Miryia turned towards the basement "Come Captain we must move quickly, another force user is on this planet"

"And I would not have this taken by another"

“Tell me little one...what should we do with this fool?” A deep voice distorted by some sort of device addressed a young boy no older than four or five, he had a dark complexion but with contradicting white hair. The voice was attached to a massive Black Armored figure with a fearsome mask. Before him was an Imperial officer who seemed to be on the verge of begging for his life.

“We should make him do a droids job since he thinks its so cool to let others die for his overconfidence chief. Make him more expendable then the lives he’s thrown away.” The boy responded, treating this entire thing like it was some kind of amusement.

“Ah...yes Captain Hevi do you have anything to say in response?”

“How could I have known there was a Droid Uprising because of a terminally ill hermit went insane Lord Vader!”

“You couldn't have yes but the way you reacted cost lives, Imperial lives. How many widows and orphans have you left for your apathy?” The child answered.

“Look I...underestimated the extent of the attacks I understand but please I beg you for mercy!”

“Mercy?” Vader raised his hand and the man began to choke.

“You are at this child's mercy, you should know by now I possess none.” Vader lowered his hand and the officer dropped to the ground. His head turned to everyone on the deck of the ship

“All of you should know by now.”

The deck was quiet, Vader fed on their fear and confusion. Only the boy seemed to be enjoying this show of force, he idolized him...like those on many Imperial worlds saw him as a Dark Avenger who stood for the common man. Misplaced faith in his eyes, Vader was a destroyer not a protector…yet despite the terror he inflicted the boy still followed him willingly. There was one before him who saw Vader with the same adoration but he grew too dangerous to let live, he risked replacing him. Vader would make sure the boy would remain as an instrument of his will an agent nothing more.

His penchant for nicknaming him “Chief”...reminded him of a past he tried to bury, memories of another man entirely. But he would not reprimand him for it, the Jedi had betrayed the ones who idolize them without a second thought. He was better than they were, greater even. He was the Dark Lord of the Sith that brought about their extinction. Not to mention the child was vital for an experiment, Vader sought to create an agent not unlike his Master’s old pawn, Granta Omega.

A non force using infiltrator, one that could pose a challenge to any force user or contemporary soldier. Omega had left behind an unknown child but it was no guarantee that the child would inherit his father's strange ability to null himself to the precog of a force user, if it was even genetic at all and all knowledge died with Omega. Even Anakin Skywalker was fooled by the Sith admirer at a point, which is why he needed to find a way to imitate his ablity.

Vader saw it better to start out fresh, he chose the boy by sheer coincidence. The Father was involved with an Echani woman since the Clone Wars, the harlot assisted the Alderaan Resistance against his knowledge. The woman participated in the sabotage of one of the prototypes for a new type of Star Destroyer and the deaths of several Dark Side Adepts. The fool begged for the life of his child and denied involvement in his lovers sedation. By all logic Vader should have just killed all of them for his weakness, but Vader looked into is files. He was a member of the Diath family, Tae Daith’s brother no less.

The force had to have a twisted sense of humor, to bring a relative of one of the many abandoned Jedi Padawans left die on Jabiin by the council. Neval despised the Jedi as much as Vader did for their failure, his beloved uncle the Jedi Liberator Nico dying in agony at the hands of the Bounty Hunter Durge only to be told the Jedi order was secretly coordinating the Separatist uprising rendering the bloodshed moot, His grand family history just a lie.

Vader was amazed at how thorough the propaganda arm of the Empire became, to make one reject his own family at the say of a controlled media, this was the power of his still recently forged Empire. Vader could use this hatred to pass onto the son, just as Xanatos’s hatred of the Jedi Order passed onto Omega. Fitting Obi-Wan’s failures were a catalyst in in this one way or another.

The Echani woman was another story, her defiance was a foregone conclusion because unlike the former Daith she was more in touch with her bloodline and revered her ancestor and his daughter the Handmaiden Brianna. She was the scion of Yusanis, her bloodline were proud slaves of the Jedi’s lies. If Vader could he would have gone to the planet and personally purged her traitorous line, but he left such things to the Inquisition at this point to root out such jedi loyalists. Much like Omega the Echani daughters were taught to resist a force users abilities to a degree, and like the Echani Handmidens served the fallen Jedi Atris these techniques would serve Vader.

Vader simply stood in solitude contemplating his plans as the pathetic officer was being dragged off to be put into a spacesuit to work on repairs outside with the droids in space.

“You are too merciful child, killing him on the spot would have served to make these fools more productive.”

“They all fear for their standing Chief as well as you. Being Demoted? Being Humiliated? These pampered core world farts would rather you kill them then lose face by being made something as low as a droid, being deemed something not even worth killing and being forced to die in obscurity. That kind of risk of dishonor would crush those foolish enough to be caught lacking.”

“You are still young, come we must continue your weapons instructions.”

The boys focus on Honor was a trait of his mothers people, Vader noted he had to direct and manipulate it into a disgust of the Empires foes.

“Yeah!”

Too many dammed reminders of the past…



Earhen had found the officers he was looking for, but he got exactly what he wished for. Imperial Officer Commandos, unlike the typical pencil pusher these guys tended to pack serious heat. Thankfully Earhen had taken a stormtroopers rifle before taking cover for the incoming shootout.

“Come out traitor! You dare battle against the Empire using the very martial arts of the Royal Guard? A lesser like you should learn your place!”

“Those arts never belonged to the Emperor in the first place buckethead, why don’t you be smart and just slink away from here before I get serious?”

A barrage from a repeating rifle pelted his cover.

“Wow even the ones without the crappy helmets you schuttas suck at aiming!” He taunted.

As Earhen began to peak from his cover he noticed the situation was getting worse as he noticed two scarlet robed individuals with matching helmets based off the Sun Guard’s ritual armor. Both sporting blasters

“Oh crap.”

---------

When the New Republic Mon Calamari cruiser arrived in Onderon, The Intrepid picked up on it almost instantly. Unaware of the hyperspace route taken by Miryia, the New Republic placed itself at a disadvantageous postion. Upon their arrival, one of the bridge officers called for Karius who walked over to his station.

"Report." Said Karius, as he glanced at the screen picking up six targets.

"They are New Republic ships, sir. One of them is a 'Liberty-type MC80 Star Cruiser', most likely the lead ship." Said the young female bridge officer, briefly glancing at Karius who nodded in aknowledgement.

"Keep me posted." Replied Karius, as he walked off. Taking a commlink out of his pocket he hailed Miryia on the surface.
"Janus. We have company. The New Republic sent a task force out to the planet. They are most likely evacuating their people. Have you found what we are looking for yet?"

"Fascinating" the words left her throat, in an almost imperceptible murmur. Purple eyes danced with a flurry of emotions that were as hard to decipher for the young trooper beside the woman they were coming slowly coming around too, as much of her body language had been. "What is Ma'am?" The voice that cracked through the audio filters belonged to a human female, who sounded as if she had maybe been out of her teens a year. "The holocron, it's different" she held it in her hand, moving it from one side to another. But she'd said no more, merely placing it in a box and handing it to Captain Cardinal, she looked as though she was about to issue an order when Captain Karius came over the line. And the Republic was here now? Truly odd, she'd felt a presence before and assumed that it had been the Republic. "We've retrieved a package" she turned and eyed Cardinal "Lead your men back to the shuttle and return to the intrepid, I'll find my own way off Onderon"

Hijacking some poor smuggler would be easy enough. "Another force wielder is planet side and I sense more than one...I'll not risk you and your men with such a task. Go now and celebrate your first victory in months"

Miryia dismissed them with a nod that did its best to convey the rigidity of command and respect before she took a separate exit from the cellar

Over on the Mon Calamari cruiser, the members of Rogue Squadron had gathered in the hangar before getting on their ships. The Jedi had gathered in a Galofree Transport and were ready to land on the planet once Rogue Squadron was deployed. The fleet itself established itself in Onderon's orbit, waiting for the Star Destroyer to make a move.

Alara entered the hangar with Lahana and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “May the Force be with you,” she said supportively before joining the rest of her team conversing with who appeared to be Lahana’s master, Kale. None of them looked pleased.

Rogue Group boarded their vessels and left the hangar; each agreed to escort the shuttle containing the Jedi just before breaking atmosphere and would then turn around to engage Imperials as needed.

Despite the presence of the Imperials, the escort mission went underway without any delays. When the transport reached the atmosphere and the squadron broke off, the Imperials never engaged. As the squadron returned to the fleet, Wedge couldn't help but think about the mission and the presence of the Imperials. Why would they send a single Star Destroyer? Something was wrong, but they couldn't figure out what.

"We should hold position and defend the task force. Wait for Master Kale and the others to return." Said Wedge, seemingly changing his mind over attacking the Star Destroyer.

"Understood." Nareia said curtly; none of the others objective to this course of action.

As the Galofree transport took off and began to return, the Captain of the MC80 contacted Wedge and the others.

"Sensors are picking up several unknown ships. They are coming out of hyperspace now!" He said frantically. The moment he finished the sentence, two dozen ships emerged from hyperspace on opposite sides of the planet. Now that they were here, Wedge was able to make it out their allegiance.

"Pirates!" He said. "What is the Black Sun and the Zann Consortium doing here?" A rhetorical question. It was obvious that they were interested in whatever the Alliance had hidden down there. Now, they were probably here to retrieve it. Before he could order Rogue Squadron to go back and escort the transport the two rival fleets engaged each other.

Fighters flew all over the place, as the Zann Consortium and the Black Sun opened fire on each other. Black Sun bmbers engaged the Aggressor-class Star Destroyer that commanded the Zann Consortium forces as the they attempted to destroy the Black Sun which was mostly composed of loose fighters, bombers and frigates.

As the battle unfolded in the sky, Miryia made her way deeper into the city. Whoever these Force users were, they were moving away. It was likely that they had already figured out that she was following them. Finally, they led her into one of the large hangar bays. There, she spotted an old Sith Empire Fury-class interceptor. Right by the ramp of the ship, was a cloaked man flanked by a masked humanoid and an old assassin droid from the Confederacy. It seems they had been waiting for her. These were the Force users she was looking for.

As the battle raged in the heavens above them, an entirely different engagement ensued as one Jedi of old pursued something entirely new. The manner in which they'd concealed themselves left her almost frustrated until she allowed her awareness to extend deeper into the force and she began to understand that while the methodology was similar the evocation felt different. In many ways this force wielder was different from her generation, their connection to the force had atrophied considerably since the battle of Ruusan though it seemed to be coming back to form slowly and gradually, as millennia of doctrine was cast aside and force wielders were forced to examine themselves and discover new methods.

Whoever this was owed her that and she allowed a perverse smile as she continued to track them, those who were luring her somewhere quiet where they could engage each other. -fearing collateral damage? No, this one wouldn't attack an unknown enemy, he's not a fool- perhaps he too was curious? Her senses bristled as a more "pure" source of light began to enter Atmosphere.

upon entering the hangar bay the woman almost sneered at the sight of the relic, the old fury. Of the three, the one who interested her the most was the eldest organic, his power was a twilight color a gray Jedi perhaps?
"You've led me around the city, you and your little one. Curious, you strike me as one who seeks, not flees"

"You'd be correct." Replied Ja'Karr, stepping forward a little. He was cautious, but not afraid. "But something tells me we've both left empty handed."
Miryia noted that the Grey Jedi was blind. By the look of his eyes, she could tell that at some point he had lost his sight in its entirety. However, it was clear that he could see her through the Force. Another thing she picked up on is how protective he seemed of the younger one standing beside him. It was subtle, but it was there. Perhaps, a Master and an apprentice?

Eli stood about a step behind Ja'Karr, off to his side. He stood with his hands clasped in front of his body to try and offer a non-threatening stance, though his tight grip on his own wrist would give away how anxious he felt, dreading a potential planetside conflict to come. He'd never been in a real fight before, and he's only had his saber for about a month.

His head turned towards his master, then to the Arkanian again to at least try to understand what was going on. The apprentice decided that the best course of action would be, just like in his classes on his homeworld, to shut up and listen.

To see without sight, it was one of those abilities that most assumed would come naturally to Jedi, but the peons of the Galaxy seldom truly understood what it meant to use the force and the difficulties such abilities entailed. Miryia for example, had been trained by a Master who was regarding as a formidable seer and prophet and she'd dedicated long hours in her youth to far sight and yet never saw beyond herself, for many blind Jedi, sight came with not a mastery to suppress ones emotions but a mastery of acceptance of one's emotions.

For followers of the code, that always came with some difficulty and it grew harder with each passing century. This "sight" was a testament to his skill, a credit to his nuance and power. -So you're here for the holocron too?- she thought, Miryia inclined her head giving a curt nod "That depends I suppose, on what we both came here for. Seek you Sith trinkets?" her purple eyes again narrowed on the boy and she let out a soft chuckle "Don't worry little one, neither your master or I are going to draw a lightsaber" she turned now to face Ja'Karr, gently probing his mental defenses, allowing her power to gently embrace him not to attack but to understand. "Isn't that right..." she paused 'Ja'Karr..." she offered him a curtsy, knowing full well she hadn't probed hard enough to pull anything and that he'd allowed her that much. It was vexatious, but at the same time, Miryia was no ingrate.

"You'll forgive the mental intrusion I trust, I've been..gone a long, long time and I wanted to see how much the methodology of force wielding has changed..It hasn't all that much. Light and Dark, the blind obsession with servitude or domination..of a substance"

Miryia allowed a shoulder to rise as if offering an indifferent shrug "But you're different aren't you?"

There was something wrong about this woman. He could sense it. Her presence in the Force was different. She was far from Darth Sidius who emanated an aura of evil and decay. This woman on the other hand, he simply couldn't tell. Somehow however, it was familiar. He had sensed this before, but where?

"I followed a different path and so do my pupils. The Force is not black and white. But, you knew that already." He paused for a moment, his grey eyes staring back at hers. "You never told me who you are. I feel like I know you."

-Not black and white- there, she thought, it was a start and the woman inclined her head ever so lightly. He did feel gray, stalwart, driven, passionate but it was tempered by an inner calm, the boy beside him was a blip on the radar that might one day blossom into a tempest of power, but what stood before her was more akin to a great fresh water lake. Placid, but tempestuous, powerful in its depth if not in its vastness.

"No, it is not, to ascribe a philosophical binary to the force is to spiritualize the raw materials for plasteel or durasteel, to call trinium or hypermatter "dark or light" " The woman spoke, perhaps if not in agreement as if though she were offering input, offering her own insights. Though, their approach might have differed as much as their philosophies, despite their roots in similarity.

His next question caused the woman to nearly beam, though she mastered herself and nodded "It is possible you know me, I've had soldiers and pilots recognize my name from history books, some of what I've been able to read from what wasn't destroyed by that profligate imbecile Palpatine says the Jedi believed me dead, lost in combat. "A great loss"

She wanted to laugh at that, had the fools known the truth, they wouldn't have mourned her as a great hero. "I am Miryia Farlina of House Janus, in another life I was Jedi Master and General in what your history books call the New Sith wars...Though the title "Jedi Master" seems to have little significance now"

The question would rise, why she hadn't sought out look, but his awareness, his own recognition of what she was told him the answer to that question.

"I've encountered Jedi who aim to walk a path akin to yours, in my youth I thought them foolish, on the council, I tried to shield them from retribution by our more...puritanically minded brethren"

"I was a fool myself to think I could change the Order from the inside." Said Ja'Karr recalling his old days as a Jedi Master within the Order prior to the Clone Wars. "But they deviated from their path long ago. I don't mourn their destruction at the hands of the Sith. Perhaps it was the Force's will or not. I have never been able to tell. Seems I am not the only one who thinks this way."

Ja'Karr had to be careful. Even when their beliefs were similar, he had yet to asses her intentions. Further, he would have to meditate on this familiar presence. He needed to go back and find whatever memory he associated with this.

Eyes flickered for the briefest of moments, with a mix of frustration, the disappointment of a teacher who found a potential equal who still deviated. "Perhaps, though does one blame the will of hypermatter for a reactor breach? Or the incompetence of the plants engineers?" The woman shrugged, allowing this question to hang in the air as she walked, without menace and yet somewhat circling them, her eyes flashing from Pupil to Master, probing and a hand gently reached out for Eli's shoulder "Your master may sound harsh for not mourning the mutual annihilation of the Jedi and Sith, do not judge him so..."

After all, he hadn't given them the nudge, merely seen the hypocrisy. "To leave the path of a Jedi takes, conviction" she turned gliding between master and apprentice, her features trembled slightly, the beautiful woman, again seeming for the briefest of seconds much like an enraged cobra.

"It took far too long" she murmured, though more to herself than to either master, or apprentice..

"It would be..perhaps illuminating if we were to continue this discussion when we have less pressing matters to attend too..and our dogmatic, lost brothers are not on our heels. If the forest moon of Endor catches your fancy there is an old palace on the southern most point of the main continent. It was erected by followers of Xendor, tens of thousands of years ago and is occupied now by an exiled Nightsister..who calls herself Charal..She is ignorant of the knowledge woven into the stone. If it you wish it, in three months time you may seek me out there...I wish to visit this witch and learn more of how her people wield the force, bring your apprentice..Perhaps..We can reach an accord"

of course, she had every intention of offering Charal two choices, a lightsaber to the heart or conversion...But she was not quite ready to make the same overture to Ja'Karr, for now, he was a peer.

A fellow student on a new path and she was content to see where he would go and if his search would lead him back to her...insights.

Just as Miryia finished speaking, the two Force users turned simultaneously toward the entrance as several dozen soldiers marched inside weapons drawn. Leading them was one assassin droid, IG-88.

"Halt. You will stand your ground and hand over the holocron." Said IG-88, as he pointed two blaster rifles at the group near the ship. "Tyber Zann will not ask twice."

Ja'Karr stepped forward, only feet away from the assassin droid. "Tell Tyber Zann that we came out empty handed. The holocron isn't here."

"Last chance." The droid insisted, his photoceptors moving around frantically as he asssesd the situation. "Hand over the artifact or die."

Eli, Miryia and Bix saw Ja'Karr lower his hood and walk closer to the IG-series droid. Slowly, he placed his hands together in front of him, locking his fingers together.

"Oohh, this is gonna be fun." The CIS assassin droid chuckled, as he drew a sniper rifle from his back. Up until now, Miryia had dismissed the droid, though upon closer inspection she noticed he had a monocle and a moustache on its head unit.

Oh now this was annoying, she'd been so preoccupied with tracking the Jedi approaching their location that she made the mistake of assuming the untalented and their mechanized compatriots were merely denizens of the city and not enemies. She'd made a poor showing of herself in that sense and her fingers twitched with annoyance.

Tyber Zaan? Ah yes, the Gang lord turned war lord....What did the fool want with a holocron unless? Her eyes narrowed,. Imperial intelligence reports had indicated that he was after relics but they couldn't determine why, had he found himself a former acolyte? A surviving inquisitor as the Pentastar Alliance had? or something else? There had always been other surviving embers of the Sith legacy, Palpatine was convinced he'd crushed all the so called pretenders, to his heretic's throne and yet...Could one have remained? Or was the man's ambition more provincial?

Instinctively, she moved closer to Eli, standing in front of the youth "If I had it, I'd sooner destroy it then hand it to you" which was true, she had studied the Sith arts for decades in the dark and found them wanting, profane and ultimately doomed to self destruction. They held no more interest to her beyond what insight they could give her in terms of different methods of manipulation, data and little else.

The room began to grow cold, around the hangar panels groaned and rivets loosened. If Ja'Karr hadn't fully sensed it by now, he'd have a clearer window into her soul, a soul that was scaled, ornate, regal and yet, emitted a light that was more akin to a radiation leak than a beacon. pretty to behold, venomous to be near.

"Do you wish to handle these..simpletons?" Miryia asked the man and his droid "I'll safeguard your apprentice..a courtesy between fellow travelers on the gray road" Despite her aura, there was a maternal tone to her voice.

Eli turned his torso, taking a step back with one leg. His arms finally separated, empty right hand suddenly filled with a small metallic cylinder that had just flown out from under his cloak. He didn't ignite his lightsaber though, only clenching it tightly in his hand. Holding this weapon seemed to calm him, his nervousness less apparent. He wasn't hostile towards Miryia, rather looking towards the Consortium intruders in case his master needed help.

"False. I am IG-88. I have killed many Jedi. You will just be part of my expanding stati-" Before IG-88 could go on, he stopped as he spotted one od the Consortium soldiers aiming his weapon at the assassin droid. Slightly confused, he turned toward him.

"He's behind you!" Shouted the soldier, as he opened fire on one of his comrades killing him. The others also began to yell at each other as they shot in different directions believing Ja'Karr to be in different positions at once. Panic engulfed the lines of the Zann Consortium troops as they shot or fought against one another. Some believed the others were ancient enemies or ghosts, while others saw Ja'Karr threatening their comrades. However, IG-88 could see right through the illusion. Seeing himself in a precarious position, the droid fell back fleeing outside. The chaos was over in just a minute. The entrance to the hangar was now filled with the dead bodies of Tyber's thugs.

Bix looked at Miryia and Eli before bursting out laughing. "That was cool, right?"

To Miryia, this ability would have been familiar to her. Force Insanity, an advanced version of the infamous 'Jedi Mind Trick'. It could induce paranoia and delusions on victims forcing them to either flee or attempt to kill their own. As for Eli, he had never sensed his Master reach so far into the Dark Side to perform an ability. The aura emanating from Ja'Karr was probably enough to make him a little bit sick.

"Let's go." He said, turning around toward the ship. "I doubt Zann's assassin is going to give up that easily."

Eli nodded, returning the saber hilt to the inside of his cloak. He turned and walked with Bix and Ja'Karr to their ship, climbing up the access ramp and waiting at the top for his master, leaning against the doorframe as he felt a little queasy.

His hands were held in front of his body again, but he felt the need to tear his hand away for just a moment to wave a small goodbye to Miryia before turning into the ship with Ja'Karr.

Now, that, had almost made the trip worth it and Ja'Karr's shift in the force, his change from a gentle grey to a violent whirlwind of crimson and that distorted heat that didn't warm was abrupt and it spoke more to his beliefs that he could so casually delve so deep into the more volatile of the substances without losing himself as many fools did.

The Droid had bragged, in Miryia's eyes it was space dust, she would destroy it for daring to compare her to fodder from a diluted Order he'd killed in the past. Though, her thoughts were again pulled from her fury to the scene at hand and when the men began to panic she allowed herself a small smile, she knew the technique well or at least she had a hunch she did. Allowing her mind to wrap around the conscience of one of the panicked thugs Miryia began to see what he saw, a few creditors who had leaned on him for he debt he owed whom he'd killed in the past and left for dead, mottled and rotting. While it wasn't quite the complex illusions certain dark side sects and the ancient Jee'dai were known for, a skill one of her peers in the past had learned (those were often non fatal), it was remarkably similar, yet practical and common sense. Take the infamous mind trick dial it up and use the darkside to enhance the fears and neurosis of the enemy. Clever, she thought, perhaps he was worthy of her vision..should he care about order and justice any way. If he was like the lazy adepts of the Bendu, pursuing mere curiosities to master the soul then she had no use for him in the end.

The boy, who had clearly been disturbed by his master's power, did his best to master his composure before hurrying away. Managing a polite goodbye as he did so.

"It has been illuminating Ja'Karr, till we meet again"

Miryia waited then, allowing his vessel to depart before she gazed upon the rest of the hangar, pilots, mechanics, service men, tech droids and more than one prostitute and their pimp were all hiding and all terrified. A generation of Sith rule had left the masses petrified of the force or dismissive of it. She lifted a hand making a dismissive wave, blastdoors sealed and entrances closed down, none would flee or intrude for she had a battle to attend too.

A Zabrak who had taken cover behind a decent sized freighter of Mon Cal make began to rise, she was the only one who had the guts to bull a blaster on her and Miryia raised an amused eyebrow, the girl's hand twitched, she fired and the blast dissipated harmlessly around the woman in purple. "If it were that easy, I would not be here" The woman moved to fire again but the blaster flew out of her hand.

A Wookie with dark black, almost opaque fur roared at the Zabrak telling her to knock it off and then he turned to make an apology. "Ah, you're her Captain?"

The wookie nodded, evidently they were transporting a shipment of medicinal equipment and droids to the outer rim..long but profitable voyage which explained the girls fury.

Miryia nodded her head ever so slightly, accepting the apology with a look of ice that suggested she'd have killed the girl were it not for the Captains manners and then produced a small slip of concentrated Aurodium, enough to commission a fleet of merchant vessels.

Sate Pestage had given her access to a terminal to read nonsense propaganda, it had taken the former Jedi Master hours to set up her own network within the remnant..and to begin building her own resource base, mostly to acquire unaltered historical texts, but also to begin building a powerbase.

"Take me to the starship in orbit old father" she uttered an ancient Wookie honorific "And this is yours, though I would urge you to fly fast and true and plot a hyperspace course out of here as soon as you leave me"

The Wookie agreed and once they broke orbit she contacted Admiral Karius letting him know not to fire on the barge. "What is our status?! Why do I see missiles and turbo lasers? " and two different battles?!

The Imperial Commandos moved out from the temple and toward where Earhen was taking cover. He could hear them, shouting orders at one another as they split into groups of three to pin him behind the rock he was using as cover. The Royal Guard spoke in their hidden language, with one of them deploying a light repeater weapon to pelt Earhen's position with red blaster fire. This also worked to cover the Imperial Commando's flank. From afar, near the doors of the old vault stood a hooded figure. A human, with a smirk on his face. He had been waiting for so long for someone to come and challenge him, now was the time to use his abilities in combat and prove his devotion to the Emperor.

The Adept attempted to probe in his mind...but found nothing, he began to notice this person was somehow dampening his attempts to read into him somehow...could he be...he was thought dead post Endor could he have turned on the Empire beforehand? No matter this matter should be settled by a student of the Dark Side.

The Imperial Commandos moved in, closing in on Earhen with weapons drawn. One of the teams arrived first, flanking him by the side. They approached, ready to shoot Earhen dead by running up from behind him in an effort to catch him by surprise. The other three were still making their way around. At the same time, the Royal Guard kept shooting at Earhen's cover, chipping at the rock with heavy blaster fire.

Searching for a nearby dead trooper Earhen found a charge and tossed it at the opposing Guards in front and decided to go forward to meet the Red Robes in melee before the Commandos could flank. Again grabbing the troopers corps Earhen used it as a meat shield to help advance close enough to the two warriors. As he fired and used the corpse to absorb blows Earhen tossed it at one of the Royal Guardsmen knocking him over and Earhen drew a double pronged Blade and swung at the other, slashing his robe but not injuring him.

“I hoped you bastards would be out of a job by now, or at least commit mass suicde or something.” He mocked his opponent, he did enjoy to mock others, especially in battle.

Anger telegraphed in his movements the Guard drew his blade and swung at the Echani warrior only for it to be swiftly dodged. Strategically behind the rocks the commandos were blown away by a little surprise left before he vacated his cover. An explosion rocked the first wave of Imperial Officer Commandos, killing many and injuring others.

The Dark Side Adept frowned, stepping back into the entrance of the temple, holding his lightsaber tightly in his hand. He saw the Royal Guard in front of him struggling to fight the threat. The way the young man fought, it was the same training the Royal Guard received. An agent gone rogue? Or perhaps Emperor Palpatine himself had sent him to test his skills. The Adept decided on the former rather than the latter. This had to be some kind of test and he was damned if he would allow himself to fail. As the adept steadied himself to take on the intruder the Royal Guard did their best to fight him. The two rid themselves of their red cloaks, revealing their red armor within. One of them dropped the repeater and drew a vibro sword while the other picked his pike as his weapon of choice. Instead of attacking him one by one, the two positioned themselves to attack Earhen from opposing sides at the same time.

Taking a defensive position Earhen clashed with both Guardsmen with his double vibroblade such force sparks flew with each clash. Each one's movement was an imitation of his own, but each clash spoke of their inexperience.

They were likely new additions fresh from the Squall, the Guard were devastated after Endor he heard and mostly stuck to the core worlds or what was left of their Masters hideouts like this wonderful little slice of hell.

Each blow and swipe from the Gaurds were masterfully parrayed by Earhen, as easily as one could read words he could read their movements. The only thing burning in their minds was a single thing: Vengeance, retrobution for their fallen master and all they held. It was the same story with every maniac in the New Order and it continued to annoy him with how many idiots there were in the Empire who kept rolling with it like it wasn’t as corrupt as the Republic if not more. Guys like Zsinj and Screed were just in it for their own personal wealth or Greed when they had claimed to be protecting the people of the Empire, all the while enslaving or experimenting on sentients. These men were serving an empire that was a shadow of itself, Sate...didn’t have what it took to protect the people of the galaxy nor did Earhen think his interests nor his allies interests lie in its betterment.

So it fell upon Earhen to make a difference, no matter how insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Continuing his blade work after several flawless deflections fients and jumps his blade cleaved open the mask of the guard with the pike sending him crashing to the ground again this time permanently.

Losing his patience, the Dark Side Adept ignited his lightsaber. He dropped his cloak, revealing a human with most of the front of his face replaced by a metallic prosthetic that made him look like an undead robot. Raising his hand, he Force pushed the Royal guard to the side, making him crash against a nearby tree knocking him out of the fight for good. The Adept looked Earhen dead in the eyes, as he held his lightsaber in a stance.
"Enough, intruder. I won't allow the perversion of my Emperor's teachings to go on any longer. I will cut you down and offer your head to him!"

The Imperial Commandos moved out from the temple and toward where Earhen was taking cover. He could hear them, shouting orders at one another as they split into groups of three to pin him behind the rock he was using as cover. The Royal Guard spoke in their hidden language, with one of them deploying a light repeater weapon to pelt Earhen's position with red blaster fire. This also worked to cover the Imperial Commando's flank. From afar, near the doors of the old vault stood a hooded figure. A human, with a smirk on his face. He had been waiting for so long for someone to come and challenge him, now was the time to use his abilities in combat and prove his devotion to the Emperor.

The Adept attempted to probe in his mind...but found nothing, he began to notice this person was somehow dampening his attempts to read into him somehow...could he be...he was thought dead post Endor could he have turned on the Empire beforehand? No matter this matter should be settled by a student of the Dark Side.

The Imperial Commandos moved in, closing in on Earhen with weapons drawn. One of the teams arrived first, flanking him by the side. They approached, ready to shoot Earhen dead by running up from behind him in an effort to catch him by surprise. The other three were still making their way around. At the same time, the Royal Guard kept shooting at Earhen's cover, chipping at the rock with heavy blaster fire.

Searching for a nearby dead trooper Earhen found a charge and tossed it at the opposing Guards in front and decided to go forward to meet the Red Robes in melee before the Commandos could flank. Again grabbing the troopers corps Earhen used it as a meat shield to help advance close enough to the two warriors. As he fired and used the corpse to absorb blows Earhen tossed it at one of the Royal Guardsmen knocking him over and Earhen drew a double pronged Blade and swung at the other, slashing his robe but not injuring him.

“I hoped you bastards would be out of a job by now, or at least commit mass suicde or something.” He mocked his opponent, he did enjoy to mock others, especially in battle.

Anger telegraphed in his movements the Guard drew his blade and swung at the Echani warrior only for it to be swiftly dodged. Strategically behind the rocks the commandos were blown away by a little surprise left before he vacated his cover. An explosion rocked the first wave of Imperial Officer Commandos, killing many and injuring others.

The Dark Side Adept frowned, stepping back into the entrance of the temple, holding his lightsaber tightly in his hand. He saw the Royal Guard in front of him struggling to fight the threat. The way the young man fought, it was the same training the Royal Guard received. An agent gone rogue? Or perhaps Emperor Palpatine himself had sent him to test his skills. The Adept decided on the former rather than the latter. This had to be some kind of test and he was damned if he would allow himself to fail. As the adept steadied himself to take on the intruder the Royal Guard did their best to fight him. The two rid themselves of their red cloaks, revealing their red armor within. One of them dropped the repeater and drew a vibro sword while the other picked his pike as his weapon of choice. Instead of attacking him one by one, the two positioned themselves to attack Earhen from opposing sides at the same time.

Taking a defensive position Earhen clashed with both Guardsmen with his double vibroblade such force sparks flew with each clash. Each one's movement was an imitation of his own, but each clash spoke of their inexperience.

They were likely new additions fresh from the Squall, the Guard were devastated after Endor he heard and mostly stuck to the core worlds or what was left of their Masters hideouts like this wonderful little slice of hell.

Each blow and swipe from the Gaurds were masterfully parrayed by Earhen, as easily as one could read words he could read their movements. The only thing burning in their minds was a single thing: Vengeance, retrobution for their fallen master and all they held. It was the same story with every maniac in the New Order and it continued to annoy him with how many idiots there were in the Empire who kept rolling with it like it wasn’t as corrupt as the Republic if not more. Guys like Zsinj and Screed were just in it for their own personal wealth or Greed when they had claimed to be protecting the people of the Empire, all the while enslaving or experimenting on sentients. These men were serving an empire that was a shadow of itself, Sate...didn’t have what it took to protect the people of the galaxy nor did Earhen think his interests nor his allies interests lie in its betterment.

So it fell upon Earhen to make a difference, no matter how insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Continuing his blade work after several flawless deflections fients and jumps his blade cleaved open the mask of the guard with the pike sending him crashing to the ground again this time permanently.

Losing his patience, the Dark Side Adept ignited his lightsaber. He dropped his cloak, revealing a human with most of the front of his face replaced by a metallic prosthetic that made him look like an undead robot. Raising his hand, he Force pushed the Royal guard to the side, making him crash against a nearby tree knocking him out of the fight for good. The Adept looked Earhen dead in the eyes, as he held his lightsaber in a stance.
"Enough, intruder. I won't allow the perversion of my Emperor's teachings to go on any longer. I will cut you down and offer your head to him!"

Earhen could barely suppress a snicker at the Force Adept.

“Bro didn’t you hear what's happened in the last 3 months? Not just the Emperor died but so did Vader and Declann. Hell Vader could always sense stuff I don’t think this would be unnoticeable...not unless this entire planet is dampening your senses or some crap...also kriff off I didn't pervert anything you guys appropriated my peoples culture and used it to train your thugs.” He was talking trash to stall the darksider, of course he wouldn't know what his moves are because thankfully he was taught to counter boneheads like this peering into his head.

He knew he couldn’t face this guy upfront he wasn’t armed right, he had to get smart maybe steal a keycard and get past the bastard and wing it from there.

Kriff I was hoping this place was ditched.

Coruscant



"Your guests have made use of the water gardens while you rested, mistress" The pleasing tone of D-3PO, the blue and silver plated protocol droid announced, he'd come through the courtyard walking through the former Presidential apartments until it reached the bathing quarters of the principle room. The synth marble on the floors and the cavernous size of the estate combined to create a cacophony of whirring, chiming servos as the droid made its way across the building granting her more than sufficient warning. Even with her head below the warm water, she could not fail to take note of the familiar sounds. By the time the droid arrived, she'd been standing between two sonic dryers which removed not only the water from her form but scrubbed away any residual dirt or debris particles that the sentient availing themselves of the bathing facilities might have missed. Behind the droid, two Twi'liks, twins, a brother and a sister roughly fifteen years of age stood at either end of the stairs leading into the grand bath. Another present from Sate Pestage, figuring she could sate her carnal urges on one or either of the pair. It was a disgusting thought, as if she was some mindless Sith who couldn't help control her baser impulses. Still, when she questioned the boy, he spoke well enough, the girl was dutiful and attentive and the pair knew how to armor a sentient without needing to be trained and they were obedient. And so, she opted to keep them on as house slaves, assisting the army of droids that tended to the sprawling palace of the Conchords, an estate that once belonged to the Grand Chancellors of the Republic, who lived in these vast and nigh timeless halls until the Presidential palace, the behemoth of a megastructure that was now called the Imperial Palace (where the arrogant fool GRand Vizier lived). The guests the Droid was referring too had been several members of the five hundred and first that had been assigned as her protective duty by Captain Cardinal who with the death of the entirety of the 501sts command structure became the highest ranking officer. It was his way of swearing fealty, promising her that the Legion once feared throughout the Galaxy would serve her in return for the dignity she'd help them recapture. She planned to do more than assuage the wounded pride of what was left though, in time the woman planned to fully reconstitute the 501st, but she would make some changes, chiefly they would no longer be purely humans and leftover clones but xenos as well and she would ensure their loyalty oath included a line declaring their loyalty to her as well as to the Empire.

"Late was the hour in which we returned to the capital, they have earned their rest, let them sun in the garden and drink and eat and nap in the artificial sun" Besides, she thought once the woman was done the Twi'liks handed her a shimmer silk robe and followed her as she began to walk through one of the Myriad great halls. "An Uncle of mine lived here when I was a child" she remarked to no one in particular, only laughing when one of the Twins gave her a quizzical look, naturally they'd heard she'd slept for a long time, that she was from a different era but it was moments like this when they realized it hadn't been rumor that made her feel truly ancient. "Ah, is my slave curious? Very well, I shall indulge you. At the time, the Republic had both a Grand Chancellor and a Vice Chancellor, the one who was second lived here, my uncle was that man in my mouth" The Grand Chancellor had been her grandmother but she had little interest in dating herself in front of a pair of slaves. her feet almost glided across the synth marble as she made her way from the grand halls to her personal chambers. Late bad been the hour indeed and Sate Pestage was on her mind as they returned, for while they had been sent out to find a counterfeit only the comms officers had seemed disheartened. The mood within the Intrepid was one of celebration as victorious spirits once again stirred within the hearts of the remnants of the Five Hundred and First. "Shall I inform them of your departure" The droid asked, again reminder her that she had scheduled a transport to the old Senate building, where the Council of Moffs was now in session, conveyed in secret (or what Pestage believed was secret), he was evidently utterly livid about the alleged incompetence of Admiral Karius and his "failure" to obtain a proper holocron, no doubt he was also hurling invectives about regarding her and her utility. The skies above Coruscant rumbled and she could sense the tides of history ebbing about her and as she was dressed by her slaves, Miryia's mind wandered back to that night, twenty one hundred years ago when she butchered much of the Jedi council and framed the Sith. That evening, she'd shed the blood of friends for the sake of a Galaxy unchained from stagnation, tonight she fully intended to set events in motion that would utterly unmake the Grand Vizier and leave him and that council of gaggling invalids at her mercy.

"Who among them has responded to my messages?" She asked, her voice sounded slightly edged, while melodious and formal as always there seemed to be a trace of venom in it. "The Grand Admiral Octavian Grant, Admiral Karius of course, Admiral Gilad Pellaeon and" the droid was cut off by a wave of her hand, the rest were irrelevant, she'd sent out a dozen overtures, but only three interested her due to the nature of the men in question and the skill they commanded both in their own intellect and those under their services. If they were at least interested in her overtures than it opened the doors, she'd planned on this being a year long operation the force however, she would find had other plans. The armor she wore today was a tad different, it was smooth and made of Mandalorian iron unlike her usual durasteel breast plate, her usual purple cloak was swapped out for one ornately woven and formal, it shimmered in the flickering lights of the brazier like fixtures that always seemed to dance in her presence. The twins slid a pair of gloves over her hands, she seldom wore but this time she saw the merit, she wanted to go there in full regalia, looking less like a humiliated servant and more like a prelate being dispatched to restore order. About her finger, the crimson kyber crystal at the center glowed as if it sensed a storm in the air. Miryia ordered the twins and D to attend to the members of Vader's fist as though they were foreign dignitaries and that she expected to return in two hours time.

The Aurodium engraved Lightsaber that belonged to a Jedi Master, rose from its place of rest on a small stand at the rooms rear and flew into her belt and she departed in silence making her way for the speeder platform where she beheld two terrified members of the regular army standing outside a luxury speeder, in front of them was an Imperial Inquisitor, one of the sad remnants of the Jedi Service corps turned into a darkside adept and set loose into the Galaxy to hunt her betters. Miryia's purple eyes flickered and the Inquisitor stood her ground but her leg involuntarily twitched. "You've been summoned..Master...Janus" the woman had to be close to thirty but the fear in her voice was of a child's. That didn't surprise Miryia, for when she awoke she'd been surrounded by inquisitors, she mistook them for Sith slaves and butchered them all, all save the woman-child, who took a powerful blow to the face that had popped her eye out, an eye that was replaced with a cybernetic implant. There was another of these so called "Darkside adepts" she'd left alive, but he tried to sense her thoughts and Miryia destroyed his personality utterly, leaving him little more than a five foot infant. She'd heard he'd lapsed into a coma after a series of strokes, that he would probably die as he lived, ignorant of the wider Galaxy and covered in his own filth.

"Pestage sends you to summon me"

"It's, it's not him Master, its someone else" Miryia raised an eyebrow but entered the speeder any way, now that was interesting. Who was arrogant enough to presume to summon her amid that rabble? Had it been Karius he simply would have told her to arrive at a set time beforehand, had it been any of the others they'd have made more of a show of it. As the Speeder raced towards their destination at the old Imperial Senate building the shadow of the now utterly abandoned and isolated Jedi Temple rose in the failing sun.

And above it, the cathedral like palace of the Last Lord of the Sith.

The Super Star Destroyer known as The Iron Fist was one of the Empire's last remaining Executor-class dreadnoughts. Unfortunately for any Imperial loyalist, the ship had become one of the first things the infamous Warlord Zsinj had seized following the Battle of Endor. The human Admiral had earned the respect of its crew and when the time came he took control of the ship, its crew, the ground forces within and the starfighter corps in its hangars. The ship, along with two entire fleets composed of several hundred star destroyers and a few thousand support ships such as corvettes and frigates which would later become part of Zsinj's armada. Now, the Iron Fist became the center of his military, political and economic activities. While Sereno was the official capital of his empire, Zsinj had created a parallel capital aboard his ship. From here he controlled his vast financial empire both inside and outside his own territory. It also served as a command center for his military forces and he could also communicate with the different planetary governors who ruled on his behalf. The most important part of this was that his enemies weren't aware of this, and it was done on purpose. Every faction in the Galaxy believed that Zsinj's empire concentrated in Sereno. He had ensured that the nobles there spread the word that Zsinj had centralized his power onto a single planet in order to consolidate his forces. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Following the battle at Onderon, Zsinj and his friend and ally Rua Skirata had left the bridge toward Zsinj's personal command center. This room, located in one of the deeper and more centralized part of the ship served as Zsinj's personal quarters, office and as a secondary bridge. From here he could coordinate battles without risking his own life. It also doubled as a lounge, which he often used to entertain guests or dispose of them. The two sat down in a set of comfortable lounge chairs, a server droid then brought them drinks. From where they were sitting, they could see the planet Onderon through a viewport in front of them. Zsinj smiled, turning to Rua and raising his drink.

"To another victory." Said Zsinj, offering a toast.

The plan was executed almost perfectly, capitalizing both on the infighting and division within the Republic and the malaise and incompetence of the Imperial Remnant’s leadership. Oh Alliance intelligence was clever, and placing a Republic outpost and intelligent depot on a planet that was almost an historical cliche was rather genius. No one, but no one would think to look on Onderon! Why every major potentate, dictator and maniac in history placed their secret bases on Onderon. A planet, infamous for its beast masters, it’s beast men and its legacy of being an ungovernable cesspool and most of those organizations and individuals found their purchase on Onderon’s soil dubious and often eroded far in advance of the arrival of their enemies. So of course the Republic did it, they’d even given enough bribes to the locals to keep them mostly calm, it was meticulous, it was efficient, it was doomed. Doomed because the Alliance leaders viewed Onderon as a backwater, bribes that lacked the gift giving nature offended the hypocritical pride of the Onderonians and Zsinj was studious enough to realize that. It became a simple matter of extending respect, trading for information and when the time came, leverage. All this and more was in Rua Skirata’s head as he made his way towards the true command center and in many ways, the capital of the Empire. Rua hadn’t stopped to remove his armor, heading to a logistics office to speak to requisition the proper bribes for their assets on the ground and then to the barracks to talk to troopers and one or two spies. Evidently, the gossip below was that not one, not two but six force users were present on Onderon and that not all were on the same side.

Which was a nice bonus, so far each side of this unstable game had a force user except the Remnant, intelligence reported they’d found some Imperial inquisitor who had been lost in deep space since Yavin, but reports of the description and of the other group, the beast boy and his master left him wondering. Wondering which mitigated only when he arrived and caught the scent of Alsakan brandy. “Ahh, Boss, your sense of taste is as impeccable as ever” Rua bowed his head, while he might have called him “boss” and spoken informally, he was always careful to make sure his body language was deferential, they’d been allies for a decade. He’d been Rua’s mentor and they might have even been friends but Zsinj had more than earned the right to be master here. “You’ll be the first person without force powers to conquer Onderon without firing a shot and most seem to hail you as a conquering hero” Rua raised his glass “To victory! May it be the pebble that starts a mountain slide!”

One Galaxy, one Emperor, two peoples. A united Mandalorian people, the right hand of Zsinj, his answer to the Jedi and everyone else, all united behind the banner of Zsinj. It was a nice goal and if he could play a part in it, he wouldn’t complain overmuch. “Apparently Jerec and Luke have some competition by the way, spies tell me there were three seperate groups of force users planetside and only one of them were Jedi and the other? Was with the Remnant and get this. Our Bartender says the crazy bitch claims she’s the “She Wolf” returned from the dead! Hah!” Rua shook his head, while crazier things had happened, it was hard to imagine the embodiment of Jedi fanaticism taking orders from the biggest sycophant of the Sith to ever exist. “Our spies are still working on the other guy, but maybe he’s just some eccentric old hobo who used to be something” Rua shrugged, the Galaxy was filled with washouts from the Jedi Order and former Agrocorp members who simply weren’t worth the Empire’s time.

It was irrelevant anyway and he relayed the information more because he knew Zsinj was a fan of military history and would appreciate that it wasn’t just drug lords and Alliance terrorists they lured out but the galaxy’s mental patients and change beggars too.

“Onderon puts us in a sweet position strategically, doesn’t it Boss?”

Zsinj took a sip from his Alsakan brandy. The mentioning of the Force users in Onderon was not unexpected, after all it seemed everyone knew what they were looking for on the planet. However, there was an unknown variable in there. A third party of Force users. Could it be?

"Did you get a name for this third party?"
Zsinj was not the type of person to underestimate his enemies. While he was confident in his power, he knew that a single Force user could turn the tide of a battle if not dealt with correctly. Especially one such as this. A third party with no allegiance to either the New Jedi Order or Pestage's sorry excuse for an empire. It was a variable he needed to know about. Before Rua could make up an answer, he started looking through his memories. He swore he had heard of an old Jedi Master who had settled in Sereno several decades ago. The nobles couldn't stop talking about him. Especially, when they found out that this particular Jedi was one of them. Could it be him? He certainly had the resources and capital to do it.

“Unfortunately no, all our spies were too busy focusing on the unhinged female claiming to be a dead woman” Rua made a mental note to pester his contacts in house Janus, to see if she was one of the myriad daughters born to that noble line gone crazy and was playing out a fantasy or if it was just some random inquisitor talking nonsense. His eyes flickered towards Zsinj the moment the man seemed to go silent lost in his own memories, he knew the look, it was the look the man sported when he felt intelligence failed (which it had) and his own memory would suffice (which it often did). “Our sources did give a generic description of the man in question and I ran it through the old imperial database on force users unaccounted for after the Jedi purge” Rua remarked, his voice somewhat tense. He’d killed force users before, besides Boba Fett he was probably the only Mandalorian in a thousand years who could say it and probably among the handful of sentients who could, but he didn’t like it, beyond his own personal youth it was too damn dangerous, fighting an enemy that could enhance itself in real time, modify its own anatomy to make itself faster, stronger and could anticipate your movements and drop you with its mind. Rua lost an eye to the petulance of one Mara Jade and his replacement eye flickered responding to the rise in his body heat as he mulled things over. Zsinj took all force users seriously, but he was taking this one far more seriously than he’d seen him take any since that fateful day with the Nightsisters, where Rua used a neutron bomb to settle a galactic dickwaving contest between darkside adepts on Zsinj’s behalf.

The descriptions were generic enough to yield ten different results. D’jinn Altis had likely died of old age and the Altisian Jedi were likely joining the New Jedi Order so Rua ruled that one out. “The description matches, several “fugitives” and given none of them look alike, it tells you the value of eyewitness accounts” Rua shrugged his shoulders, his gemstone like robotic eye flickering the images passed his ocular nerves. “But since you seem to know something I’ll start name-dropping and you can tell me if any of them sound familiar.” with another sip of his brandy Rua leaned back in his chair, his dark hair falling about the armor and robes, giving him the look of some wild, mercenary king in the service of a greater liege, one that didn’t merely wear the trappings of civilization but sought to embody them. “Quinlan Vos, Rahm Kota” Rua got a laugh out of that last one, he’d killed Rahm with Mara Jade, it had been how he lost his eye. “Tholme, Drun Carnwick and uhh...this name has to be an alias of some sort Ja’karr I’m pronouncing that right, I’m sure of it” Rua paused there, allowing the name to roll around his tongue, unsure why he stopped there, though he went on rattling off a few other names, including one female which again went to the value of eyewitness testimony, or lack thereof.

“Another claims he was the former High Inquisitor Antinnis Treymayne himself, but Jerec killed him over Ord Mantel, Adalric Brandl, Hydra and Volytar were killed in remnant territory but we still don’t know by who” Rua finished his brandy placing it onto the bronze tray the ever attentive service droid scurried over with.

“I can...investigate this personally if you need me to Boss..I’d much rather not, mind ye. “Rua muttered the last bit, responding to his own offer as a man who’d just been handed a bundle of venomous serpents.

"That one!" Zsinj shouted, standing up abruptly making the brandy in his hand spill on the floor. The female servant droid came running, kneeling over the small pool of brandy on the metallic floor as she attempted to clean it with a towel. Zsinj on the other hand was muttering something in Huttese as he ran over, as fast his body could take him, toward the main console computer in one corner of the lounge.
"That blind bantha. Piece of…" He continued, typing away furiously at the blue screen. Finally he found what he was looking for. "Jarn Dakarr! Yes! I knew it!"

He pulled up a series of reports on the screen above the console. All of them detailing a series of thefts to Sereno nobles. Every single one of them involved Sith or Jedi artifacts from the Civil War. "It has to be him. He was the most prominent Sith and Jedi artifact of the Clone Wars. Rumors spread by the Sereno aristocracy say that he was a Jedi Master at some point. There are too many coincidences."

“Dakarr? That last name sounds familiar” Rua remarked, wondering if he’d gambled with or fenced too, or assassinated people for that House. Quite a few bravos from Sereno, young, upstarts from minor noble houses had also challenged him to fights something about “an upjumped commoner” taking such a position of power besides the new Emperor. Both his synthetic eye and his remaining organic one flickered in amusement recalling their indignation. Sereno nobles weren’t as provincial as Chommel Sector upstarts but nonetheless. While clan Skirata wasn’t as wealthy or powerful as Clan Vizsla or Fett, or Kryze but his lineage boasted three Mandalores which put him a bit higher on the Galactic pecking order for arrogant fools who thought the achievements of dead men meant more than the victories of the living. The man who would be Emperor paced, mentioning albeit, with manic zeal relic theft and a foremost collector of odd artifacts. Rua whistled “I’m surprised the Inquisitors weren’t on his ass if he was buying up force cult relics, especially if he wasn’t part of the Imperial elite”

Rua had been given a scroll written by Odan Urr as a gift by Governor Tarkin for completion of a mission and he recalled that a minor Inquisitor had to be physically present to witness and log the gift, such was the extent of the Emperor’s paranoia. Rua made a mental note on that, perhaps he could use the trinkets he’d been given or “liberated” when clients failed to pay as bait? Granted, he had no way of determining if any were impressive enough to be worth stealing. Thinking about bait made him grumble, he really, really didn’t want to fight another Force user. “What do you want to do about this guy? If all he’s doing is running around collecting kriff and ignoring the Galaxy unless he gets cornered, he isn’t so much of a threat for he might do as the heat he’ll bring on us if he’s still involving himself socially or financially in Sereno. Maybe we should freeze his assets and repo his holdings? Then send a notice to the New Jedi Order and whoever this crazy cunt really is, in Remnant space and let them know we only care about containing Sith and Jedi treasure because blasted force users always burn the galaxy down whenever they have one of their sectarian domestic fights” Rua spat the last part out with unusual venom, for the first ten thousand years after the fall of the Rakata, the Taung and their human followers, who’d become known as “Adherents of path of the Mando’a” and then, eventually just “The Followers of Mandalore” then simply Mandalorians had been the preeminent force of order and peace in the cosmos, a race then religion of warrior poets who brought civilization to the stars. Then the damned Jee’dai reorganized themselves as Jedi some thirty two thousand years ago and flooded the stars, competing and vying with the Mandalorians for cosmic order and when the Republic was founded those sanctimonious prelates bent the knee and a once mighty people were reduced to brigands and pillaging thieves, then found honor in conquest once again and in opposing their hated enemy.

“Sorcerous trash, usurping dogs, Jedi, Sith, whatever the Kriff this blind thug is, they’re all the same to me. A class of malignant parasites who’ve distracted the Galaxy and held us all back for too long” Gloved hands tightened but the rage seemed to pass, much as he tried to revile the Jedi order his mind always wandered back to the blond girl who’d been like a surrogate mother to him and a mentor and whatever hatred he could kindle was drowned out. Still, this Ja’Karr, or Jarn Dakarr presented a problem.

He let out a sigh “Every major power has a force user except us, you’ve got me. But that still leaves this blind guy, what do you want to do about him boss?” He figured, the unhinged fraud could be dismissed, she was probably some low tier inquisitor trying to boost her value but this one? A former Jedi Master? Who’d survived decades of history, that was a problem.

A big one.

"No, no. Dakarr is clever, yes. He's been avoiding the Inquisitors and the Emperor himself for years. At least, that is what the rumors say. While he is a competitor in the markets…" Zsinj paused for a moment to calm down. The fact that some no-name Serenno noble was able to compete against his vast financial holdings hurt his pride. But he knew better than to blindly go after someone who had survived so much. "If we freeze his assets in Serenno he will disappear for good. Then, he will never be found. Hmm." Rua could sense conflict within Zsinj. He despised the man, not because he was a potential danger but because the Serenno noble had done something to hurt the Fondor Warlord's pride. Wouldn't be the first time something similar happened.
"I want to send a message." Zsinj turned, pointing a Rua. "Find him. Use everything at your disposal. Favors, spies, contacts, everything. And when you do, tell him that he should stay out of our way or face death."

Before Zsinj could rant any further, an Imperial Commando officer entered the room. The officer, wearing a black uniform and a captain's rank insignia approached and saluted the Warlord.
"Sir!" He called out, drawing Zsinj's attention. "The package has arrived."

"What?" Replied Zsinj, walking away from the console. Before the officer could repeat himself, Zsinj interrupted him. "Yes, yes. I heard you. Go and fetch them for me." The officer nodded and walked out of the room. Zsinj, then turned to face Rua. He had a smirk on his face. The good news seemingly washed away the fury from earlier.

"I don't think I ever told you how I got my hands on that little artifact from Onderon." Zsinj began, chuckling to himself as he approached Rua once more.

Rua let out a sigh, of course he wanted the mando to go hunt a force user. Dark side adepts and renegades of the light and Bendu fence sitters didn’t bother him the way hunting Jedi did, but it all bothered him because he really detested the risk involved in facing Force users. The man’s dark hair fell over his mechanical eye which began to twitch, processing statistics and data, feeding his brain information from the holonet as he began to formulate precisely how he would go about this without getting himself killed. Beyond him, the serving droid returned with a tray and some more brandy “Leave the bottle” Rua muttered before allowing himself a bit of a manic smile. “I hate fighting force users boss, but every time I do I earn glory and honor which is essential for a Mandalorian, especially one who aims as high as I do. That’s what I’ve always liked about relationship, you understand the cultures you seek to conquer or coopt, like Grand Admiral Thrawn did and you aren’t so paranoid and shiftless that you don’t see the value in advancing your subordinates” Which was true, Rua never acted the sycophant, the fact that he was willing to complain about this mission was proof enough. Zsinj took his advice on tactical matters as Rua learned from Zsinj like an eager student when it came to strategy. Zsinj had been able to establish himself so well because he understood as those below him rose, so too did Zsinj who rose ever higher, bringing himself one step closer to Emperor. “Intimidate, don’t kill but make enough of an example to remind him we’re not to be taken lightly.”

He could do that, hopefully without provoking the wrath of said force user. As he was about to ask if Zsinj wished him to inquire more about the Remnant and Pentastar’s force users a trooper came in and Zsinj seemed to cheer, to switch from that wounded pride and dark fury that moved him to send his best warrior on a potential suicide mission into waxing nostalgic about manueverings done in the dark over the last few months or years. The light in Zsinj’s eyes burned and Rua shook his head “No, I don’t think you did” He could guess well enough, but he never liked to voice his theories until he had at least partial confirmation. “How ever did you manage to hustle six different force users Boss? Including two kriffing Jedi Masters…” Or three, if the crazy lady wasn’t so crazy at all.

“And what exactly is the artifact? Don’t tell me it's a damn holocron or some manuscript of Nomi Sunrider or Arca Jeth?”

"See for yourself."
The Imperial Commando officer returned along with four Storm Commandos. They were escorting a boy, not older than 20. He was wearing the usual robed given to padawans by the Jedi Order and even had a lightsaber on his belt. Though, by the look on his face he probably wished he was elsewhere. When he was presented before Zsinj, he looked away from the Warlord's gaze as he approached him.

"Go on, boy. What are you waiting for?" Said Zsinj, growing increasingly impatient as the kid reached into his robe. From it he pulled out a triangle crimson holocron. So this is what everyone in Onderon was after? Some dusty old Sith holocron? As soon as the Jedi Padawan presented the holocron, Zsinj took it from his hand.
"This." Said the Warlord, turning to face Rua. "This is our reward. Neither the Jedi, the Sith or Dakaar have what they sought after. According to my sources, this is the last Sith holocron in existence. By keeping this holocron under our protection, we deny our enemies the vital knowledge they require."

Zsinj glanced toward Onderon, before fixing his gaze on the artifact in his hand. "Their orders will waste vital resources as they scramble to find it. Eventually, they will come for it. And when they do, we will destroy them! We'll draw them into a trap from which they cannot escape. And then together, we can bring order to the Galaxy. A Galaxy in which the Force is no longer relevant."

It was hard to tell whether Zsinj had completely lost his mind or if he had come up with the most ambitious plan in his life. While the holocron was a vital tool for the respective orders, would it be possible to use it against them. He was right, both Jedi and Sith would spend resources to find it. However, whether Zsinj's forces could use that to their advantage was another matter. r matter entirely.

From his seat Rua raised a scarred grizzled eyebrow as the wastrel entered the room. A boy, adorned in Padawans robes, those silly brown robes that Jedi always thought was some compensatory gesture to make up for the fact that their existence cost the New Republic about as much as it cost to maintain seven full battlegroups and a quarter of a million soldiers. “You think that stupid costume hides your hypocrisy? I could fund a mercenary team of twenty with what the Republic spends on you, boy” Rua chuckled, it was a bit cruel and he didn’t entirely mean it but the youth had the look of someone who had given up and Rua despised broken men and despised powerful ones all the more. As the boy held up the artifact a scarred, halved eyebrow rose over his artificial eye and Rua let out a whistle. “Ain’t that a pretty thing, pretty and dangerous” Rua added, a gloved hand reached for his songsteel knife, he knew well enough the danger of Holocrons. Mandalorians spent tens of thousands of years battling their creators and the Jedi who reverse engineered the technology from the Rakata and began to fashion their own and the Sith ever after. As Zsinj began to unravel the web of contradiction and risk shrouding his plan the Mandalorian slowly smiled a predatory, feral smile. Yes, he thought, as it should be, a Galaxy ruled by an Emperor whose law was enforced by the Mandalore many had asked why he supported such a man, when he had the wealth and the esteem to break off on his own and it had always come down to one thing beyond loyalty, Mandalorians weren’t rulers, they were a race of conquerors, warriors, but they needed to be united behind one leader, who bent the knee to one great man.

“A crucible of truth, to burn away the the millennia old deception of the Force Using cults and their value...I like it” Rua turned, sneering, disgust evident in his face, though less for a hatred of force users and more in the memory of Scout, her love and her patience and the blind Jedi he’d killed with Mara Jade and how pitiful it was this one betrayed that which so many died or remained lost because they refused to forsake their vows. “How does it feel boy? To know you’ll be responsible for the extinction of every single infernal sect of your nonsense mutant brethren?”

Rua laughed and rose “Don’t bother answering” turning he bowed to Zsinj and departed, it was time to prepare to act the part of the intimidator.

It was time to alter the course of History.

"She's late…" Grumbled Phasma who was standing next to the very person who had so arrogantly summoned Miryia. The man next to her chuckled, raising his gloved hand. He stared out into the distance, seeing the speeders and the occasional TIE Interceptor zoom by. He couldn't help but smile as the anticipation built. There was a part of him that wanted to measure her reaction. Their race, after all was well-known for their sense of superiority. To use something Miryia had marked as 'servant' was a direct challenge to her authority and power. Something this particular officer had purposefully done. Not as part of some grand strategy, but simply for his own amusement. His counterpart though, didn't share his sentiment. Phasma, who came from a world where she had been crowned the leader of her clan after her many victories saw Miryia as an outsider and the fact that her boss had called upon her as part of one of his games annoyed her. She was deeply loyal to him, not because she was his underling, but because of what he had done for her in the past.

"Patience. She knows. And that, I think, makes it all the more exciting." The man giggled, making Phasma roll her eyes. There were times where she couldn't simply stand him. He was a brilliant strategist and spy, but an awful companion.

"Have you considered she might just hurl you into the Coruscant Underground?" Phasma said, staring back at him in an effort to wipe the grin from his face. That, only made him smile even more.

"I'm too useful." He said, placing his hands together in front of him, stroking his palms. "Regardless of her opinion of me, I'm too big of an asset. And if my theory is correct…"

"You will join her?"

"And you won't?" He finally turned to Phasma, his smile fading as she turned away instinctively. There was no doubt in his mind that he was correct, and he wouldn't allow Phasma to say otherwise or put into question her loyalty to him. Pestage's days were numbered and whether he died now or later was just a matter of time.

"I spoke out of line, sir."
Her words made the man scoff. There was nothing he hated more than insubordination. Phasma was a good soldier, but too focused on her own loyalty to the Empire for her own good. He would have to deal with that later.

"I expect better of you, Phasma. But you always do right for me, don't you?" He said, speaking softly. Though, the words doubled as a threat.
"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."
The man looks up, the grin on his face appearing again as he spots a luxury speeder approaching in the distance. As the speeder comes closer, Miryia is able to spot two figures. One, a female in a white and black ISB uniform. Next to her is a male who is shorter than her. He too is wearing the black and white uniform of the Bureau. When the speeder gets closer, she manages to make out the male figure better.

It's a Bothan…

A Serpent Among the buzzards.

Pestage's Folly

My Hider [+]

"She's late…" Grumbled Phasma who was standing next to the very person who had so arrogantly summoned Miryia. The man next to her chuckled, raising his gloved hand. He stared out into the distance, seeing the speeders and the occasional TIE Interceptor zoom by. He couldn't help but smile as the anticipation built. There was a part of him that wanted to measure her reaction. Their race, after all was well-known for their sense of superiority. To use something Miryia had marked as 'servant' was a direct challenge to her authority and power. Something this particular officer had purposefully done. Not as part of some grand strategy, but simply for his own amusement. His counterpart though, didn't share his sentiment. Phasma, who came from a world where she had been crowned the leader of her clan after her many victories saw Miryia as an outsider and the fact that her boss had called upon her as part of one of his games annoyed her. She was deeply loyal to him, not because she was his underling, but because of what he had done for her in the past.

"Patience. She knows. And that, I think, makes it all the more exciting." The man giggled, making Phasma roll her eyes. There were times where she couldn't simply stand him. He was a brilliant strategist and spy, but an awful companion.

"Have you considered she might just hurl you into the Coruscant Underground?" Phasma said, staring back at him in an effort to wipe the grin from his face. That, only made him smile even more.

"I'm too useful." He said, placing his hands together in front of him, stroking his palms. "Regardless of her opinion of me, I'm too big of an asset. And if my theory is correct…"

"You will join her?"

"And you won't?" He finally turned to Phasma, his smile fading as she turned away instinctively. There was no doubt in his mind that he was correct, and he wouldn't allow Phasma to say otherwise or put into question her loyalty to him. Pestage's days were numbered and whether he died now or later was just a matter of time.

"I spoke out of line, sir."
Her words made the man scoff. There was nothing he hated more than insubordination. Phasma was a good soldier, but too focused on her own loyalty to the Empire for her own good. He would have to deal with that later.

"I expect better of you, Phasma. But you always do right for me, don't you?" He said, speaking softly. Though, the words doubled as a threat.
"Yes, sir."

"Excellent."
The man looks up, the grin on his face appearing again as he spots a luxury speeder approaching in the distance. As the speeder comes closer, Miryia is able to spot two figures. One, a female in a white and black ISB uniform. Next to her is a male who is shorter than her. He too is wearing the black and white uniform of the Bureau. When the speeder gets closer, she manages to make out the male figure better.

It's a Bothan…

Coruscant



"Was, was that where you grew up?" One of the regular soldier's had asked the Arkanian who was lazing on the heated sofa within the covered Speeder's interior, she was sat coiled, with her feet tucked up to her posterior, an elbow resting on a window, her cheek lazily resting in a fist as she gazed out the window. Ahead of them a palace only slightly smallar than Xizors great home rose with a cathedral like spire lancing at the skies. The banners that billowed in the winds about its parapets were the symbols of the Empire and below it, a hilux made of aurodium and silver, around it were coiled two Arkanian Dragons, one devouring, the other consuming. The symbol of House Janus, who while reduced in power since the ascent of humanocentric politics and the New Order, was still as a force. A force that would inevitably return to its prominence, just as its serpentine daughter would.

"Watch your place!" The adept snapped before whimpering into silence at the withering gaze of the purple eyed woman. A gaze, reinforced by a slow, predatory smile. "I grew up in a palace on Alsakan, not even Arkania proper. In another life, in an age where beaten curr knew their place.."

The rest of the trip was passed in silence, but for an occasional observation she'd make to the soldiers, making them aware her disgust and discontent was with the Inquisitor and not them, even though they had the look of two rats ensnared by a Cobra's eyes.



As they edged closer to the proud dome that rose like a mushroom cloud from the upper levels of the Galaxy's "Jewel", Miryia's eyes flickered contemptuously. That looked like one of Masters Oort's designs, the damn cephalopod like Jedi Master was obsessed with what he'd called Natural architecture and she recalled, before she'd slaughtered most of the Jedi Council and framed the Sith, that the Republic had been considering his obscene designs as a replacement for the Senate building that had been blasted into its constituent Atoms when a Hypermatter bomb delivered by a mindslaved suicide bomber under the influence of Darth Ruin. For the first eighty seven years of the war Miryia had done all that she could to delay the construction of the new Senate building due to believing the resources would be needed for the war effort, for in the early days, the mad man's legions had come ever closer to overcoming the Republic wholesale. As the war raged on and she understood her purpose, she delayed it's construction solely because it weakened the Senate in the eyes of the Galaxy and strengthened the Jedi. She made an approximation of a disappointed sigh, much had transpired that she had not intended to transpire, too long, too long had she slept. Below them, a myriad of lights and sounded rose up to meet the ever whirring sound of the speeders and mas transit vehicles and Miryia extended her awareness, allowing her Jedi senses to take in the full measure of the planet's biodiversity, its sprawling trillion souls. in a way she pitied the Inquisitor, who was so thoroughly inferior she had only begun to manipulate the raw essence of the force in any manner resembling skill, skill enough to simply enjoy the chorus of souls, souls that could just as easily be made to scream out an overture as they were to cheer it. It wouldn't be hard, merely focusing on a single one of those pathetic cattle down there would be sufficient to destroy them utterly and yet she held herself above such visceral indulgences, there was no satisfaction to be had from butchering babies for the sheer sake of it.

As they reached the senate buildings landing area, the Jedi brought herself back into focus. eyes narrowing on the visage of what passed for a welcoming party. Two figures include in the black and white of Imperial intelligence, one a human whose aura wreaked of DNA galvanized by radiation, though she wasn't certain why. She was tall, immensely tall and broad chested, but otherwise looked so unremarkable as to be confused for a member of a hermaphroditic species and beside her a Bothan who bore the superior rank? now that did intrigue her. The first orders bigotry was in many cases not without merit but in the case of humanocentrism it was adorably ignorant. Humans were a superior species solely by virtue of their ability to breed like rabbits and procreate with anything that had a pulse. Their genetic malleability created some of the greatest force wielders in history and simultaneously some of the worst. Bothans were skilled in the art of statecraft and in espionage, the Cervids were an invaluable asset to the Rebel alliance near as she could tell and disenfranchising most of them from their trades of choice was a fools motion. As the Speeder landed, a glint in the Bothan's eyes suggested he was curious, amused and more than a little confident. Had he been the one to send beasts of the field to retrieve her?

When the doors opened the only indication of her annoyance was that the Inquisitor who left the vehicle first as if to act as an escort yelped in pain as she was forced onto a bended knee, her head compelled down, one hand forced to her breast, the other fist towards the ground in supplication. The woman glided passed her, pausing only to turn her head, ever so lightly "Your sort, do not even merit the honor of walking in the shadows of your betters, I will hold you there until I am out of sight. You will learn your place, or you will have none"

The tall woman seemed to regard her with a healthy mix of mistrust, skepticism and derision? Oh, she was fascinating, she had a wild look about her under the devotion and the order, the rigidity. As though she were still half savage. Perhaps this beastly female was bred by the tribes on her world to serve as a member of a warrior caste? Then again, the derision came with a certain air of authority, however provincial. Upjumped though they were, grasping as they might have been she sensed value in those beings, or at least utility.

"Was it you who sent this...animal to find me?" Her eyes narrowed, she wished to press the point but more important matters needed attention. "What is that wrinkled thug who fancies himself a bureaucrat and his gaggle of carrion eating birds on about in there? Are they attempting to salvage their failures by stripping my Admiral of his rank?" While she had a feeling Karius was present, the vermin hadn't called her, that became clear now, which meant this one..whom she'd overlooked had been been able to perceive her plans.

This wasn't a summonce, not entirely. Her eyes slowly narrowed "Tell me your name" she paused "And your attendants as well"

Phasma might have thought Miryia needed to prove herself, but the concerns of the help meant nothing to her. But she could play nice enough when needed, especially when her attention was caught.

@TheWatchDog

Pestage's Folly

When the Inquisitor emerged first, the Bothan couldn't help but smile. "Here he we go", he thought to himself. And predictably, she got what she deserved. Forced into a humiliating kneeling position before her superior. It made him giggle. The raw power displayed in front of him is what he wanted to see first hand. And here she was, Miryia of House Janus. What a sight…

"Oh, where are my manners? I am Raveem of Clan Vas'Ah. Director-General of the Imperial Security Bureau." The Bothan bowed graciously, like a royal would greet another of higher rank. As ambitious as he was, Raveem wasn't stupid unlike other Imperial Officers, especially his predecessor. Thinking about his fate, it made him smile. Too bad he couldn't see it coming. As he rose to meet her gaze once more, he gestured at the woman beside him.
"This is my most faithful bodyguard, Phasma."
Phasma bowed as well, though she did so reluctantly. It seemed this Bothan had the savage warrior on a short leash. Now, to the more important things…

"Now why would our benevolent and most capable leader do that?" Raveem remarked semi-sarcastically. Though that smile quickly faded as he stood up straight and addressed Miryia's question. "The Admiral is inside along with all the other bureaucrats and leaders of our fractured Empire. I found it rather surprising that you were not invited to this particular meeting, so I thought extending an unofficial invitation was in order. Perhaps you, me, and the Admiral can convince him otherwise?"

It was hard to rear the Bothan even if Miryia reached out with the Force. His mind was a jumbled mess of quick thoughts and memories haphazardly stitched together. What she could make out though, was that he found the whole situation entertaining. She also found that Raveem found pleasure in her mere presence, which was strange to say the least. Just like any other ISB agent, she could see how he carefully measured and analysed her most subtle of movements and facial expressions. And regardless of his pose, he was positioned to grab the blaster on his belt. He seemed like a well-trained skilled agent.

Lahana hadn't been in a particularly good mood once she got back to the Jedi Temple on Yavin. As far as she was concerned the mission had been a mess. What was the point of rescuing those people if Aren was just going to go missing? Her fists swung rapidly at a stationary droid with six arms, each one ending in a padded glove. The droid creaked as it moved it's joints to intercept her fists. She hadn't punched someone in a while, she was starting to get withdraw.

"Padawan, I can feel your animosity from down the hall." Lahana stopped as Kale entered the room. She grumbled and turned to face him.

"Sorry Master, but it's... Frustrating. I can't stand sitting around not doing anything. Has there been any word on Aren?" She asked, her voice trembling with anxiousness.

"Nothing, There is no way to communicate with Onderon. Anything short of going there ourselves will likely be a fruitless endeavor."

"So why don't we?"

"The planet is under Empire control, we would be blown from the sky before we even landed." Kale said. Lahana didn't like the answer, but that didn't mean she had a rebuttal.

"...And this was all for what, a holocron? Those things that hold information? Is something like that really so valuable?" Kale let out a sigh.

"Knowledge is a powerful thing, dangerous if in the wrong hands. Though what truly has me concerned is the possibility that it is a Sith holocron. I can't say I have experience with them personally, but I know they are a corrupting influence. It might be possible to train a legion of dark Jedi with the assistance of such an artifact."

Lahana grumbled once again and grinded her teeth. She went back to punching the droid. "So... What are we. Supposed to do!?"

"I will be talking with Master Skywalker as soon as possible. Being blindsided by this information was... Most unfortunate. Until then, rein in your anger padawan. Emotion is human, but be sure not to indulge the destructive force inside of you." Kale nodded and left the room, leaving Lahana to stew in her own thoughts.