On Nancora, the twin cities of Faron and Axio are connected via a single rail system. This direct line between them consists of staggered transit stations that provide a means of access to the badlands and the resources buried within them. Axio Transit Station Cresh is one such stop for the trams. Named as such due to its closer proximity to Axio than Faron, Station Cresh maintains the same design as all the other stations along the route.

The rail system itself spans four lines wide, double stacked to allow for maximum flow of transit. This results in eight active trams at any one time. Each side moves in the opposite direction of the other, meaning the fast moving trams could come rushing through at any time from either Faron, Axio, or both. The station itself consists of lifts and walkways leading to the surface far beneath the platform. The main buildings present offer up supply stalls serving food, beverages, and equipment, sold at a premium to account for their necessity in the Badlands. What remains is a small security presence as the Technocratic Guild has an armed garrison at each of their stations.

As a major supply route between the cities, the transit stations see a lot of traffic no matter the time. Station Cresh is one of the busiest, often seeing materials arriving from the lifts and being loaded onto the trams. The seeming small scale of the station can lend one to underestimating it, but its importance means any disruption will be dealt with swiftly.

High Priority Target

Name: Gwendolyn "Sparks"
Affiliation: Technocratic Guild
Species: Twi'lek
Gender: Female
Height: 1.55 m
Weight: 49.9 kg

Based on intel received, Gwendolyn—or simply "Sparks" as her fellow Technocrats have both affectionally and warily named her—has a penchant for causing chaos and anarchy in pursuit of what can only be described as a passion for 'explosive artwork'. Of note is the fact that she has been identified as a disciple of the Guild Master himself, her apparent loyalties remain only to her freedom to creatively modify explosive weapons, as well as inventing new ones entirely. The highest level of caution is recommended.

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"You actually put a charge in her bag, Gwen?" laughed a feminine voice.

"Yeah!" giggled another with unholy glee. "She deserved it! Thought I was here as a dancer."

A tan Human leaned closer to the red-striped Twi'lek, placing a hand over hers, the pair seated side-by-side atop a shipping crate. "She'll be blown away," she joked as 'Gwen' shifted nearer with a flushed smile.

"Every explosion, see, it's an art. And it all makes sense. You find the right formula and BOOM!"

"Art like you?" The Human winked. "Could you really topple a whole building?"

"Yeah! I'd just—"

"Ladies, I must interrupt," came a new voice. A lithe man in dark robes strode purposefully towards them from the direction of the guard station, his icy blue gaze cutting. The Twi'lek tensed when she saw him.

"Force-user!" she snarled, her button features turning ferocious as she leapt upright.

"Indeed," Braecen Kaeth said. The lightsabers hanging at his belt spoke for themselves. He was an Elder of the Brotherhood and Proconsul of Scholae Palatinae. Service and victory defined him. If his Empress wanted to continue sending him into dangerous situations — Nancora and the Collective agents were deadly — then he would survive and prevail.

"Guards—" Gwendolyn, or Sparks, began to call for Cresh station's garrison.

"You will find your men unable to assist you," he intoned, calm and unsmiling, fingers gliding over the bronze and ebony hilts of his sabers. "Now, I have much work to do, so…"

He drew his weapons.

"I'LL BLOW YOU TO PIECES!" Gwendolyn shrieked, tearing a thermal imploder from her belt and raising her arm. The Dark Side screamed warnings through his nerves, burning then glacial. He dropped one blade and threw out his hand defensively, pouring the whole of his existence into the Force. His opponent moved to throw.

A scarred hand caught the Twi'lek's wrist, twisting it behind her back and prying the explosive free. Braecen's eyes widened as he watched the other Human wrestle Gwendolyn into submission, the Twi'lek shouting in pain and surprise.

"...Tameike?" the Corellian questioned, recognizing her now that he focused on her, the Dark Side still thundering through his veins. Braecen had seen her often beside his Aedile when he had served Arcona. "Satsi Tameike! You were Uji's Fade."

"Are you frakking kidding me?!" screeched Satsi, her glare one of utter contempt. Gwendolyn's small form writhed in her grip but found no purchase against the stronger woman. "Get over here and kill her already!"

"If you're offering," the Sith commented as he approached, white fire erupting from his remaining lightsaber.

"I'm...Oh, frak—" the Arconan swore, releasing Sparks and diving off the crate. She hit the platform in a roll and leapt back to her feet, pounding towards the Elder at a dead sprint. His blue eyes flitted between Satsi, a possible oncoming threat, and Gwendolyn, who had managed to reach a live detonator, now blinking in her grasp.

The Adept pivoted to run, choosing the more promising of his options in that split second. Satsi joined him in sprinting down the concourse.

There was a clatter behind them as the device landed. Satsi tackled him sideways, carrying them both off the platform and down onto the tram line with a crash. Unbraced, the impact knocked the air from Braecen's lungs and spun stars across his vision.

Above them, the deadly burst flashed with unnerving silence, vaporizing everything in its radius. Screams went up from nearby shopkeepers, and the ground rumbled under them with the vibrations of the running trams.

The Sith sat up, hissing and collecting his saber. Satsi scrambled to her feet, offering him a hand. He took it.

The Force wailed to him again, and he jerked back just in time for her fist to swing out, clipping his jaw instead of flattening his nose. The Adept snapped around, cupping the bruise and glaring furiously, the roil of the Dark Side slithering in his stomach.

"What was that?" he spat. Had he misjudged his snap-assessment of their relation? Would she not be an ally as her sibling had been? Perhaps she was here for him on Atyiru's demand?

"That," snarled Satsi, "was for waltzin' in here and blowing my cover to bits! I had her, you nerfherder!"

Before he could respond, she was climbing up the far side of the divide towards the other tram lines. Braecen shook his head.

"How am I to know your plans?"

"Shadows, shut it and c'mon, we gotta go." Looking over her shoulder, the Arconan cursed and clambered atop the ledge. "She's coming, move!"

Braecen needed no prodding. He fed the furnace inside him and it seethed in response, channeling inhuman strength into his muscles as he leapt up onto the platform too. A glance revealed Gwendolyn laughing madly across the gap, aiming a wrist-mounted rocket their way.

The Adept gestured with his empty hand, willing the Dark Side to his aid in a stroke of invisible force that crashed into the Twi'lek, knocking her down.

Without pause Satsi badgered him along again, running and jumping down into the next tram section. The woman hissed, looking around. "We need to find cover. We're lucky we haven't stepped on a bomb yet already."

"Why would she have a mine in this area?"

"What sort of intel do you have over in Scholae? Didn't you read about her? Why wouldn't she have the place mined?"

Braecen only considered for a heartbeat. "Perhaps it's wiser to assume so," he conceded. "We will have to avoid any."

"You got some sparky mine-sweeper sense I don't know about?"

If the situation had been less dire or convoluted, the Elder may have laughed at such ludicrousness. Instead, he replied, "The Force will guide me, and I'll be looking."

"Your funeral, Kaeth."

"And what would you suggest for the bombs then, Tameike?"

The Fade grinned, and Braecen saw more madness in the expression than had been in Sparks'.

"Easy. We blow them first."

“The only thing I saw you blowing was kisses. Not very Shadow Lady-like, if you ask me.” Braecen wore a smug, self-satisfied smile that only a Corellian could muster.

“How-” Satsi bit down on her tongue and swallowed the remaining words. Twin almond eyes glared and the Elder could see the furnace raging behind them. Her rise to Consulship had not been publicly announced yet.

“I guess our intelligence isn’t entirely uninformed,” he quipped.

Despite the chaotic noise in the aftermath of several explosions, a distinctive note in the cacophony of combat rang out. Thunk-thunk! A survivor of several Brotherhood campaigns, the Elder recognized the sound of a grenade launcher. Owing her for saving his life twice over, Braecen wrapped both of his arms around Satsi and drove the pair to the ground. The nearby explosion unleashed a wall of pressure that popped their eardrums and was lost in the violent silence surrounding them.

The detonations lacked the punch of shaped explosives, but removed the duracrete surrounding the tracks and other protected systems. A secondary explosion rent apart the durasteel tracks in a gout of orange-white flame. An agonizing cry screeched as the infrastructure began to sag under the insurmountable duress of the station’s weight. Alarm klaxons swirled in a vibrant yellow rotation as imminent danger was signified to everyone within proximity of Station Cresh.

Braecen’s eyes swam in and out of focus, but he pressed against the darkness with the Force in desperation to keep it at the perimeter of his consciousness. As his too blue eyes snapped back into focus, he saw the Equite beneath him was emphatically moving her red-painted lips. The Force flowed into him and began to soothe his eardrums from the concussive blast.

“-the fwec off me, sparkie!” A kneecap forcefully rose between the legs of the Dark Jedi and connected to the softspot in his groin. Braecen fell sideways from her prone form with a warbling groan. The Reaver rocked back on her shoulders, coiled her core muscles, and kicked outward in a fluid effort that flipped her upright onto her feet. Satsi did not spare the man a glance, “I hope it was as good fer ya as it was fer me, Kaeth.” A small, deviant grin touched her lips, but not her eyes as they turned towards where she had last seen their common foe.

Satsi rushed forward in a crouch. She slid into cover behind several crates with a loose grey-green canvas draped across them. Her right hand slid to the Enforcer Pistol at her belt. The weapon was black from end-to-end and seamlessly blended into the shadows cast from the crates. Slowly, she peeked from her cover in the general direction of her opponent. With no immediate threat in sight, her eyes dropped towards the ground before her.

Braecen watched as she delicately placed her feet and advanced towards “Sparks’” direction. The Elder was less concerned with the Arconan Consul’s safety than the riddle she presented. He owed his life to the Fade for her involvement in the House Galeres campaign known as ‘The Fall of SCEPTER’. She had personally secured his lifeless form and drug him from the rubble as the building collapsed around them. She had refused the gifts of wealth he sent to her for her actions. Braecen assumed that she, perhaps, had aspirations of power, but he soon found her refuting those advances, too. Perplexed, Braecen had assigned Uji to resolve the issue. He cursed himself for never following up with the man about how the matter had been rectified. It may have given him a clue about the woman that had rose to power over the entirety of the Shadow Clan.

He turned away from her meticulous advance to set his own course. Braecen dashed forward with unnatural speed aided by the Dark Side. He twisted and turned through the perimeter of the makeshift arena trusting in only the Force to guide his path. As he came upon the main platform, he noted the arrival of first responders. Medical staff tended to the wounded and other technicians raced towards what he presumed was fire suppression equipment. As his severe gaze scanned the entirety of the platform, he saw a flash of pink skin with red markings disappear into an open doorway. A moment later the sound of another explosion erupted across Station Cresh.

Disregarding everything else, Braecen dashed in her wake. He passed through the portal into a dark hallway. The only light within streamed from the threshold he had just crossed. Small golden-brown hairs rose on his neck as his eyes attempted to adjust to the dim light. He placed one black boot in front of the other and reached for the lightsaber at his waist. He turned a corner and found a new source of light streaming from the end of the hallway. It had been obscured in the aftermath of the blast by the loose dust and thick smoke. Absentmindedly, the Elder waved it away with his free hand.

Beep!

Braecen froze as his mind caught up to the events that had transpired. The Twi’lek had not been fleeing from the pair, but baiting the hook to her trap. And all too willingly, I chased her into a building I assumed had no other exit, he chastised himself subconsciously. Gwendolyn’s farce had pulled him into a position she could lay a mine and cover its appearance with nothing more than smoke and dust. His movement had activated the mine, but he had not triggered the device. Yet.

A small framed, pink skinned Twi’lek approached him from behind. She brandished a Bryar Pistol, but kept her distance as she lurked near the threshold of the passageway. Words poured over her lips like honey, “Oooo! What do we have here, hmm? Another Force User ready to leave this world with a BANG!”

Two clinks interrupted Sparks' taunt.

Her and Braecen's eyes widened as two gas grenades exploded between them.

The pale clouds billowed outward, filling the space in seconds. He could see nothing but the fog and focused on the power of the Dark Side to temper his body. His sinuses stung, but he ignored them, unbreathing.

Behind him came a soft thud. A figure emerged in the gloom. Tiny lights illuminated the scarred face behind a breath mask. Almond eyes flickered over him. She seemed both unsurprised and disappointed that he wasn't dying.

"I saved you once because of Uji; you're useless to me now," Satsi said, voice muffled. "How long can you hold your breath?"

Braecen was too busy listening to the klaxons suddenly screaming in his mind to acknowledge her. There was scuffling from where Sparks had been standing, and then—

The Adept threw himself into the Force and forged it to his desire, thinking of nothing else. He envisioned himself and Satsi protected and willed it into being. The defensive corona surrounded them, and then it was awash with flame, beautiful and terrifying. Sweat poured down his skin.

The barrier broke as the fire died, and in the ensuing blindness, the Elder commented, "That is twice for each of us; I'll consider the scale balanced."

"Fine by me, sparkfinger," Satsi mumbled, sounding surprised to be alive.

Braecen's eyes had hardly adjusted before bolts of plasma assailed them. He acted on Force-fueled instinct, lightsaber snapping in an arc to catch the blasts. With his other hand, he unleashed claws of blue-white lightning across the space.

No sound of pain came, the assault wasted. His senses flickered, drawing his icy gaze to the right. Sparks knew her craft well. She had stepped away from the exit as the flames had fled through it, chasing oxygen, and seemed unscathed. She crouched with her pistol raised, grinning maniacally, a charred line of detonite tape on the floor before her.

Of course she set the gas aflame herself.

The Proconsul hissed, careful not to shift his weight too much, keeping his stance firmly planted. Satsi slunk forward like a manka cat, coiled low, dagger clutched. Gwendolyn's gaze snapped to her.

"You! You know, it's not very nice, messing with people like that. I thought you actually liked my art!" the Twi'lek half-screeched, her dark eyes alight.

"You're insane," scathed the Fade. "I spent the last six hours considering lobotomy by tram track while listening to you. Do the galaxy a favor and blow yourself up, you whore tailhead."

If the Arconan was trying to goad the Technocrat, she succeeded. It was as if Satsi had lit a fuse inside Sparks' head. Gwendolyn yowled, throwing her pistol at the woman, which the Arconan effortlessly dodged. The Twi'lek snatched the thermal imploder she'd recovered from her arsenal, clamping both hands around it and hugging it to her chest.

"You'll be a masterpiece," she seethed, pressing a switch. The device began to beep rapidly.

One, two...

Satsi cursed, charging forward before Sparks could move.

Three, four...

Sparks shouted as the Human tackled her, lifting the small woman bodily and slamming her down onto the duracrete.

Five, six...

The Fade tore the imploder from the Twi'lek's hands, winding her arm back and throwing it as hard as she could out the crumbled wall. Sparks shrieked, bleeding and wild, and reached after it—

Seven.

The first wave rocked the whole station. There was searing heat. Braecen flinched, throwing his arm over his face; but he wouldn't be knocked from his feet. The skin of his bicep melted with the synthweave of his robes. He heard Satsi scream. The second wave followed, popping in his ears.

And then— silence. Silence, and a tinny ringing. His head spun. But still he stood.

The Adept straightened slowly, aware of the danger still underfoot. His arm was a mess of blistered flesh, and he grimaced and swallowed tears as he fed the Force into the wound.

Motion caught his attention as his deafness receded. He saw Satsi climbing out from under rubble, bruised, bloody and burnt. She coughed while clutching her side, then pivoted to nudge what was left of Sparks' lower half. The Arconan grinned.

"Not bad," she began, approaching. Her smirk faltered when Braecen nodded downwards. A look of comprehension dawned on the woman's face. She looked down around his feet, then back up, expression tragic.

"Kaeth, you..."

"I was careless," replied the Corellian bitterly.

Satsi seemed sincerely upset. "I'm sorry."

"I don't intend to surrender. There are many solutions to test," he said with a sardonic smile. Here was another challenge. He would succeed or never know of his failure.

The Fade nodded stiffly.

Then, hands slammed into his chest. He felt time slow down around him as bile flooded his mouth, like moving through water. His lungs lodged themselves in his throat as his feet left the ground. He felt the bite of rubble in his back.

There was no explosion.

The Sith blinked.

Standing above him, Satsi cackled, feigned empathy evaporated.

"You're a frakking idiot, Kaeth. If that thing wasn't defunct from whatever Sparks did to it, you'd already be dead. Arconans have been runnin' across those. When they trigger, they blow. And you're just standin' there waitin' for it like a streetwalker and her trick! Ha!"

Braecen bared his teeth. His arm hurt, and he did not appreciate being mocked. Rage seethed in his gut, and he drew on it, lifting his fingers.

A pistol greeted him just as quickly, her mirth gone.

"I've got somebody to die for, Kaeth, and it isn't you. Let's just walk."

Electricity sparked along the Proconsul's fingertips, but he lowered his hand, inclining his chin to the new Consul. It was all the confirmation she needed. The woman bolted, ducking away from the prying eyes of medics and guardsmen.

He would allow her to go for now. After all, she was a riddle, and he intended to solve it.

The Proconsul was conflicted. Part of him wanted to end this woman’s life and return to the Empress of Scholae Palatinae to determine her motives. Skirmish after skirmish, she continued to press the Elder into dangerous situations under the guise of service to the Clan. Another part of him was in disbelief that this would be how it ended. His accomplishments would end at the hands of a hate-filled, deranged woman.

“Now,” Gwendolyn cooed, “where did your friend get off to?” She rose to her tiptoes and peered over the taller Corellian’s shoulder. Her right eye, an orb of pure darkness, scanned the background, but never rested on a single object. “Sithspawn!” she cursed.

Despite the wail of sirens and the noise of emergency crews responding to the trio’s earlier act, Braecen heard the heavy footfalls as Satsi charged. She erupted into the scene behind him and took the Twi’lek by surprise. The Reaver lowered her left shoulder and collided with the lithe form of “Sparks”. The smaller woman crashed into a sidewall then staggered back towards her assailant. As Gwendolyn reached for something at her belt, Braecen hit her with a telekinetic burst that swung her arm wide. Satsi used the opening to jab with her left and cross with her right.

The one-two punch forced Gwendolyn back on her heels and Satsi’s face glowed from the exhilaration of combat. She dipped low and came up with an elbow to her opponent’s solar plexus. A burst of air escaped her lips and her one organic eye widened in panic when she could not catch her breath. Satsi reached across her body with her left arm and grasped Gwendolyn’s left wrist. She pulled and twisted the Twi’lek into an armbar before she brought her right hand down between the ulna and humerus with a sickening snap.

Gleefully, the Arconan Consul raised her right leg and drove it like a piston into the side of Gwendolyn’s knee. An unnerving pop caused Braecen to cringe and the demolitions expert to howl in pain. The Arconan Consul beamed in the wake of her carnage. Not yet satisfied, Satsi raised her right hand into a balled fist for a final, decisive blow. “Stop!” A loud voice called out from the opening before the Elder. Driven by instinct, both the Consul and Proconsul turned to look toward the location of the voices. A trio of Technocrat Soldiers stood with their blasters trained in their direction. Unwillingly, Braecen had become a meat shield for his chance accomplice.

Gwendolyn wrenched her arm free of Satsi’s hold and bolted towards the soldiers. She bowled into Braecen and nearly tipped the man over. He wobbled under the sudden impact, but attempted to keep his footing - lest the mine would be activated. As he tipped forward under the combination of momentum and gravity, Satsi reached out and grabbed hold of his black robes. She twisted and pulled the dark cloth, and the man within, to an upright position.

Her other hand materialized with her Enforcer Pistol over Kaeth’s right shoulder. Braecen’s eyes followed the motion and he noticed a ring of black ink around her wrist with a series of numbers. Bang-bang-bang! The first two shots took the men to the left and right of the man that had dared to give her orders. Their bodies snapped backwards. Kaeth loosed another blast of Dark Side power and clipped Gwendolyn’s right side. The woman pitched wide to the left and crashed into the hallway’s wall. The small device that she had been reaching for earlier spilled from her hands and rolled towards the opposite wall. “Detonator,” Braecen heard Satsi whisper under her breath.

The remaining soldier unleashed a salvo of emerald bolts. Braecen threw his arms wide and raised a defensive corona before him. It extended to cover both Satsi and himself for a moment. The Consul twisted her body to come out from under his left arm with her blaster leading. As she emerged from the dome, she unleashed another trio of shots. Bang-bang-bang! The first shot went wide, but the second and third took the man in the shoulder then the head.

Satsi discarded her weapon and withdrew a dagger from a sheath at her thigh. She knelt beside the Twi’lek and drove the point of the weapon into the woman’s lekku. A shrill scream broke loose from Gwendolyn’s mouth. “Shut up!” Satsi barked. She brought a fist down, then another, and another until the bomber girl failed to make a sound. Or move. It sent a chill down Braecen’s spine.

The Consul stood up and looked out the hole that Gwendolyn had blasted. Her gaze stretched beyond the trio of soldiers that laid on the ground into the distance. “Did you see, Kaeth?”

“No,” he lied. He quickly recognized his misstep and attempted to course correct. “I… see what?” Braecen’s voice was deflated.

Satsi walked over to the detonator and picked it up. Braecen froze as his mind contemplated all the options at his disposal. I am out of options, he realized. She turned a pair of almond eyes on him as she backed out the hole.

“I’m sorry, Braecen, but this secret must be kept at all costs. I cannot afford you using it against me… or Uji.” She paused at the doorway and hesitated. “You also have the right to know, before you go, that your Consul has an open contract on you. She is hiding a secret, but she seems to think that you, more than any Palpatine, could reveal her deception.”

Braecen wanted to howl with rage, but he could not find his voice. He closed his eyes and deeply imbibed on the Dark Side. It bit deep into his flesh with searing heat and he broke out into a cold sweat as it swirled about him in a tempest. ’More, more, more,’ was all he could think.

“Goodbye,” Satsi whispered as she rounded the corner and pressed the button. Beep-beep-beep-beeep-beeeep.

Boom!