Abandoned and forgotten, the ruins of the Dark Temple have slowly succumbed to the erosion of time. In the central chamber the walls have crumbled, the ceiling has caved in, and the jungle now flourishes within the once pristine halls.

Green light filters through the temple, mixing eerily with the dark, violet hue of Dromund Kaas’ sky. Lightning flickers overhead, the raw energy of the Force clashing high above. The floor is overgrown with large plants and grasses that have swallowed the old stone. Wild creatures roam freely, skittering away from the presence of intruders while vicious predators hide just out of sight.

The main hall is lined on both sides by towering statues, heads bowed in supplication. They stand in deference to the sculpture of a pure-blooded Sith, which towers over the chamber with outstretched arms. The sculpture has been split diagonally down the middle, as if cleaved in two by a rusted blade, but the majesty in the stone still echoes to the past.

On either side of the main hall, remnants of branches to inaccessible parts of the temple remain. One might tilt their head to take in what is left of the mezzanine—the balcony overlooking the chamber—still held aloft by the great pillars standing behind the statues. Several of the pillars have fallen, providing a pathway up to the mezzanine for those willing to take the risk for higher ground. Spirits of the Sith are rumored to still haunt the grounds—waiting for poor, misguided fools to walk blindly into their domain.

For a brief moment, a new star bloomed in the sky above Dromind Kaas. A bright explosion of light which, even as it was born, dimmed into nothingness and was forgotten. Then another, just the same. Though there was no longer a soul on the planet to witness it, battle had come again to the space above the shadowed world, as it had in ages past.

"That shuttle is a karking menace! Take it out lieutenant!" Captain Havelock ordered from the pilots console. The pirate threw his corvette into a hard starboard turn as the triangular shuttle zoomed past on it's attack run. Behind it were the slowly cooling remains of two Z-95 Headhunters, as well as the remaining starfighter of their escort scrambling to retaliate.

"That pilot is the menace here. I can't get a lock on him!" Lieutenan Harkonnen grumbled back, working furiously at the gunners station as he shouted. The ship's turbolasers traced the shuttle's path in red fire, but it always seemed to be two steps ahead of the gunner. It danced between the bolts of plasma like an acrobat, spinning gracefully through the tapestry of stars behind it.

Captain Havelock gave a wordless growl of frustration. He handed the pilot controls to a subordinate, his face red-hot with anger as he leapt from the seat. With a snarl he whirled around to face the perceived source of his current mortal danger, intent on giving his employer a piece of his mind.

Looking positively giant in the cramped bridge of the Corvette, Grot leaned against the rear bulkhead his thick armor blending in with the grey plating. His reptilian face was hidden by his helmet, but twisted into an anxious frown. The ship rocked as the shuttle passed below them, its blasters raking their shields with a hail of fire.

"This wasn't the deal!" Havelock shouted, pushing a finger into the mercenaries chest.

"The deal was to get me to Port Ol'Val from Aliso," Grot hissed back at the pirate, knocking his hand away. "You knew what that might involve."

"It sure as stars didn't involve Wedge Antilles in an escort shuttle!" The captain fired back. "Tricks and Blasto already bit it against this guy, and whatever you did frakked the Dread Lord off enough to send him." The captain glared at the Trandoshan, shaking with rage. The ship rocked again. Another star bloomed above Dromund Kaas as their escort dwindled further.

"What I did is no concern to you. Do your job!" Grot hissed back, glaring at the fuming captain in return.

"At this rate we won't even make it halfway to the jump point! And if we do, I'll have lost all my best pilots!" The captain's hand snaked down towards his blaster. A black, ugly, thing with more burns than paint. "Why dont I just cut my losses here, huh? Let the Dread Lord have his due and space you lizard-breath!"

"You would try!" Grot hissed, his pistol already flying from it's holster.

There was a flash of blinding red light and an answering crack of thunder as each man took his shot. The bridge was dead silent, and even with the impending threat of the shuttle pilot each man present stopped and looked up from their consoles. There was a heavy thud as the captains corpse fell to the ground, a slug buried through his eye-socket. The bulkhead sizzled with plasma burns mere inches from Grot's helmet.

The crew stood dumbstruck for a moment until, with a sudden violence, the bridge shook with the force of an explosion. Consoles blew out in a shower of sparks as their shields overloaded, the ship's systems no longer able to handle the strain. Men cried out in pain, falling to the ground and desperately clinging to their stations.

As the chaos cleared, Lieutenant, and now Captain, Harkonnen stumbled from his slagged console over to Grot, giving the mercenary an appraising glance.

"That's all well and good, but I don't think we'll survive many more hits like that. Either you get off this ship, or nobody does."

Grot scowled inside his helmet and growling in frustration. With a resigned sigh, the mercenary removed a silver pendant from his belt and handed it to the newly minted Captain

"If you still want to earn your pay, take this to Port Ol'val. There will be a ship in dock called the Voidbreaker. Get it to the captain. Tell her where I am going."

"And where would that be?"

Grot grinned, row upon row of sharp teeth mercifully out of sight within his helmet. "The escape pod."

—————————————————————

Andrelious flipped his shuttle end-over-end as his came in for his next— and hopefully final— attack run. These pirates had gone too far. Their little grand theft was about to end here.

He had no idea how those pirates had found their outpost, or fought through their security, but he wasn't letting the go. Somewhere on that ship was a data-chip containing information of the entire defense grid of Aliso. If that chip reached whoever hired these scum, it could be a disaster.

The aging Sith lined up his blaster but watched as, with a bright flash of it's engines, an escape pod detached from the limping Corvette. The tiny tin-can slinked down towards the planet, its maneuvering thrusters working overtime to guide it into the atmosphere of Dromund Kaas.

The Sith hesitated.

Is it a distraction? he wondered. If he didn't go after that pod he might never have the chance again— and whoever was inside might get away with the data chip. If he did follow, the pirates could still get away with the chip. So which one of them has it then?

He closed his eyes. He had to trust in the Force to guide him right. For the sake of his sons. With determination, he broke off his attack at the last moment and followed the pod down to shadowy Dromund Kaas.

—————————————————————

It had to be here, huh?

Andrelious shook the rain from his shoulders as the portly Sith came into the entranceway. It was a temple, ancient beyond count, and crumbling away to the jungle. Though the galaxy at large had this place, he knew of it quite well. A dark empire of the Sith had once made its home here, and evidence of their dark rites still swirled through the air and filled his senses with the aftermath of their power.

The pod had come down not more than a mile from here, and he'd painstakingly tracked it's occupant through the mud and jungle. He was wary, the ruined temple would be the perfect place for an ambush. He scanned the mezzanine above him, but in the dim green light he could see nothing but shadows. He walked, the statues above standing in silent audience to him as he passed through the crumbling columns.

He ignited a saber. The blade of pure red plasma felt sure and strong in his hand.

"I know you're here!" He shouted, his voice echoing into the dark. "You can not hide from the power of the Dark Side! Give up the Data-chip, and I'll make your end swift!" He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching out and feeling for his quarry. He was here. He felt anxiety, caution, malice, and murder all bound into a tight, explosive package. Where! But where!

A sharp, thunderous crack exploded from the mezzanine as Grot took his shot. The armor-piercing slug erupted from beneath his cover of leaves and vines, a near superhuman aim guiding it straight to the center of Andrelious's pudgy chest. His saber flashed in a blur of crimson, the bullet slagging against the plasma and spraying him with a fine mist of molten metal. He hissed in pain as it ate through his robes and down to his chest, leaving fine holes in his clothing and bright red burns on his skin.

Andrelious was already moving though, rolling even as Grot pulled the trigger for his second shot. The bullet struck the column behind the Sith as he tumbled, landing on his knees a few feet to the right. With a shout, he focused his rage and felt it flow like a burning river from his heart to the tips of his fingers. Sparks leapt between his fingernails, and massive eruption of lightning scoured the mezzanine where Grot was kneeling above.

The Trandoshan ducked and rolled, taking cover behind a nearby pillar as the electricity ravaged his former hiding place. Even as it does away Andrelious gave another shout, and stream of white-hot energy engulfed the pillar Grot was hiding behind.

"Give it up, pirate!" The Sith shouted, focusing on maintaining the stream of lightning. It felt good, it felt powerful, it was intoxicating. "You won't be leaving here with the chip!"