Begeren. Once a prosperous Sith world, it has been the site of numerous battles throughout the millennia. Grand halls and monuments were torn down and re-purposed by looting Republic forces thousands of years ago, before they were driven from the planet. Isolated settlements still dot the planet's surface, but the inhospitable, craggy, and desert-like terrain, along with the beasts common to many desert and Sith worlds, have kept most humanoids from colonizing. Occasional skirmishes have left debris scattered throughout the desert, and battles were fought here as recently as the Galactic Civil War. The planet is now under the control of the One Sith and is rumored to be full of all manner of priceless, ancient Sith artifacts.

The Dark Council has pushed forth to Begeren and the Grand Master, on his quest for ever more powerful items, has decreed the Clans and Houses seize anything of value. The unity shown by the Brotherhood during the beginning of this Crusade is fracturing, with the Clans and Houses growing tired and frustrated with the seemingly endless succession of battles. Tempers are flaring between former allies, with outright aggression no longer uncommon. Despite this, you have responded to the Grand Master's call—though whether it's to actually seize the items for the Brotherhood, destroy them, or use them for your own purposes, only you know.

You have followed the call of the Force to a stretch of desert wasteland, seemingly unremarkable save for the various rock outcroppings that dot the landscape. These outcroppings, though, hide a subterranean cave network, known to be a den of wraids. Though the entrances to the caverns are typically narrow and dark, these tunnels quickly widen. Below the surface, bioluminescent plants and lichen provide limited light.

You know that, despite reaching this place first, you won’t be alone for long, as an ancient Sith tomb is located deep within the caves the wraids now call home. Exactly what you’ll find in that tomb, you’re not sure—but it is something of great power, that much you can sense. You know it is your duty to find it, whatever it is, before any others can locate it. What you do with it when you find it… that is up to you.

As you near one of the entrances to the caves, you think you hear the sounds of footsteps, or maybe skittering, down below—and above ground, you hear the distant crunch of rock underfoot as someone else has found a different rocky cave entrance as well.

Ophelia sighed as she lowered herself down from outcropping to outcropping, descending into the darkness that stretched out before her. She had never been one for the dark. Not that she was scared of it or anything, she just preferred to see what she was doing and where she was going. The dark constricted and it made her feel slightly vulnerable. She hated it.

A soft whirring from the motors in her leg kicked in as she dropped the last ten feet to the floor and landed ungracefully amidst a pile of what appeared to be animal corpses. Gore and what smelt of fecal matter splattered up her robe and she gave a silent curse as she fought to hold her balance and stay upright.

She rose, unhappy, disentangling herself from something long and ropey and pushed forward. She unhooked her saber from her belt and let it hang loose in her hand. She had thought about snapping it into life to provide light but the luminescence provided by the flora allowed her to see just fine for now but she wasn’t taking any chances. The caves air was putrid and every now and then she was positive she heard the scraping of flesh on stone and the softest whisper of air escaping lungs but every time she turned to look around, she saw nothing.

She was aware of things around her, she knew well what kind of creatures lived in these cave systems and she really had no intention of engaging anything. This mission, to her, was a waste of time. Give her someone to kill no problem. Send her into a cave complex to find stuff and it really didn’t make her happy. Not to mention she stank of who knows what. She stopped and took a deep breath and remembered why she was there. To prove herself to her adopted Clan, not that she in truth gave a damn. She did what needed to be done and damn the rest, but Montresor had seen something in her that had him stay his hand and considering her old allegiances that was something. She raised her hand and gingerly ran it along what was left of the old One Sith tattoo and sighed when something brought her back to the now and she turned on her heel and snapped her saber to life and barely dodged the Wraid as it lunged at her knocking her against the wall as it passed.

She turned to meet the creature and blinked as it continued on, down one of the darker side paths where the light wasn’t as strong. She decided against following the creature she moved off down one of the other paths and kept a firmer grip on her current situation. Given her extensive reconstruction work, her grip on sensing things via the force hadn’t been as strong as it once was.

The passage exited into a large expanse with two rows of great stone pillars running along the centre of the cavern. Towards one end of the cavern a great stone arch sat and though she couldn't quite discern exactly what it was she realised what had been calling out to her was over there. Making her way to one of the nearest pillars, she stopped as she noticed something on the surface. As she knelt down to get a better look she felt the onrush of air above her and a hard thump as something collided heavily into the pillar. She pushed herself back as the something thudded to the floor a quick glance told her it was another, or the same, creature as before. Without hesitation she plunged her saber into the creature almost butchering the thing as it struggled to rise.

“A little bit like watching a predator mauling it’s prey to death but if it gets the job done,” the voice echoed behind her and she rose turning on her heel bringing her saber to bear. “Really? I save your life twice and you take up arms. You young ones are so predictable.”

The man stood there smiling, his hands out to the side and palms upturned. His held no weapon but she saw could see nothing for his robes. She let out a snarl. The sound of scraping metal escaped her lips, a result of her cybernetics, and wrapped her hand around the handle of her whip.

“Who are you and what do you mean saved my life twice?” Ophelia didn’t trust him not to try something but she wasn’t going to jump head first into something. At least not yet.“What exactly are you doing here?”

The man sighed and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. “So many questions youngster. First of it doesn't matter who I am and secondly I’m here because I got told to and i’m not entirely happy to be doing it,” he strode forward then past her kicking the dead Wraid. “As for saving your life well I spooked it back in the cave as it jumped at you and as you may have heard I gave it a little push as it attempted to barrel into you and you seem to have finished the job.” He turned to her and fixed her with an almost friendly smile. “So since I answered your questions, I think you could do me the honour of answering a few of mine,” He turned and rose, his friendly smile dissipating. “What is that smell and why do you have do you have One Sith markings on what’s left of your face?”

His hand moved under his robe and pulled out his saber, igniting the blade before Ophelia could respond. He stared at her markings with a grimace and shook his head sadly. “Nothing personal you understand, it’s just something that has to be done.”

The One Sith tattoos were seared into Howlader’s thoughts – this woman, or someone like her, had killed Shadow Taldrya. Someone had to be made to pay for that crime.

Howlader, with his ignited lightsaber in his right hand, went after the near cyborg with an uncharacteristic scream. He charged lightsaber first in the direction of his opponent, swinging his blade wildly. With each successive hack and slash of his lightsaber that was countered by his opponent, Howlader received an additional wound from her whip. With each successive counter and wound from his opponent, Howlader grew angrier – and this only strengthened his resolve to fight harder. Howlader continued to use only his silver lightsaber to attack, his feelings moving from frustration, to anger, to rage – and then suddenly, a realization. Howlader steadied his mind and his feelings for a moment. Finally being able to think clearly again, he slowly withdrew from his opponent’s striking range.

As his opponent moved in for another strike of her whip, Howlader reached out with the Force and fired a blast of energy from his left hand. The shocks rippled through his opponent’s organic parts, undoubtedly causing pain through some of her right side. The effects of Howlader’s blast on the left side of the cyborg’s form were far more interesting – the electrical components sparked and whizzed and arced along the cave’s walls, causing small puffs of smoke to leave her body. Satisfied with his attack, Howlader relaxed for a moment – while waiting for his opponent’s inevitable drop to the cave’s floor.

Unfortunately for Howlader – that drop never occurred. The One Sith’s components continued to spark and buzz, obviously causing the cyborg a great deal of pain, but she was able to overcome and bypass the damage in a few moments, and then regain her combat stance. All Howlader had seemed to have accomplished was to anger his opponent; which became plainly obvious as she began to exhibit all the classic signs of Force Rage. Her eyes darkened and focused, her nostrils (or what was left of them) flared, and sweat beaded across the organic portion of her forehead – it was apparent she was being refueled by adrenaline.

The cyborg, reinvigorated by the strength of the her rage, launched herself through the air at Howlader with bloodlust in her eyes. Howlader stood firm, reaching out with the power of the Force and pushed her off course – then blasted her with the full force of his telekinetic power clear through the cave’s wall. When the dust and rocks had settled, Howlader crawled through the newly made hole, and found himself a tomb. Given the markings on the wall and the statutes and artifacts that adorned the room, Howlader surmised that this was the final resting place of some Sith Lord. Howlader could feel a presence of a power coming from the centre of the room – it appeared to be emanating from the long dead Lord’s sarcophagus. Perhaps, Howlader thought, this was where he was supposed to end up all along. Satisfied, Howlader started towards the middle of the tomb to retrieve in his prize, only to be startled by a large pack of wraids entering the tomb from a large gap on the opposite side.

Crashing through the wall and cascading to the floor alongside loose rubble, Ophelia felt something snap. Electrical feedback passed through her system causing her components to act erratically. The pain was blinding as the focus in her left eye kept glitching and attempting to push herself up from the floor made realise what the snap had been as the eye failed completely.

She twitched painfully as another feedback surge flowed through her. She managed to exert enough strength to drag herself across the floor hiding behind one of the statues that adorned the room. The sound of shifting debris echoed behind her and she chanced a glance from where she hid to find the man enter the room through the destroyed wall. He stopped momentarily and the urge to strike rose as the last vestiges of the rage vanished.

Ophelia felt exhausted but she knew that the feeling of fatigue would pass as long as she could remain hidden. She shivered as another wave of dark energy washed over her; guessing it was coming from the sarcophagus in the centre of the room, she knew she had to obtain whatever was inside at any cost. Something caught her attention besides her opponents footsteps, the scuffling sound of feet on rock, and as Ophelia turned her attention back to the room she noted about a dozen wraids stream into the tomb a larger than average one urging them on.

She could smell the burnt flesh as he dodged and struck out at the beasts. Easy targets given their size, each strike with his saber was a hit but the the chamber restricted movement forcing him to take to the walls and the top of statues as the creatures gave pursuit. A bolt of Force energy cascaded from the man’s fingertips striking one of the creatures and sending arcs of electricity across its body. As as it attempted to rise a follow up blow of telekinetic force sent it across the room, smashing into the sarcophagus, fracturing the lid and revealing what was inside.

This was her moment, pushing from the wall Ophelia stumbled from her hiding place and sprinted, painfully, across the room skidding to a halt in front of the crack. The wraid that had smashed into the sarcophagus attempted to rise but her saber hissed into life and crashed down through its skull, skewering it and melting the creature’s brain. It gave out one low mournful growl which attracted the attention of a couple of the other creatures, including the pack leader. They turned their attention to her and began moving towards her at a frightening pace.

Fighting the pain and the urge to run Ophelia reached into the final resting place of the Sith Lord and drawn by the Force managed to wrap her hand around the hilt of something and drag it clear. Upon contact she felt energy seep into her body and begin to reinvigorate the organic parts of her. As it reached the low light of the tomb Ophelia took in the beauty of the sword she held before turning her attention back to the oncoming wraids. Reaching out through the force she felt a connection to the brains of the creatures rushing at her. In those seconds before they neared her, and momentarily bolstered by the dark side energy of the sword, she took control of the creatures.

They stopped and looked at her expectantly and with a gentle nudge through the Force they turned and charged back into the fray with her opponent. He had managed to cut down another four of the creatures and had begun his move towards Ophelia when he was met with the wall of oncoming flesh and muscle. As he tried to manoeuvre his way around them to come to grips with her he found that whatever he tried was countered by the wraids. Howlader attempted to jump clear of them and just as he thought he had broken the wall he found himself face to face with the pack leader which roared and swung its fist.

Managing to raise his saber in time he was able to draw power from the swing as flesh was carved but the blow still connected with his midriff, lifting him from his feet and sending him skidding across the floor his saber escaping his hand and rolling to the side. The wraids moved into strike but stopped and parted as Ophelia moved through the pack like a proud mother coming to inspect her children’s work.

“You see now I have saved your life once,” she drove down with the Sith sword and the tip struck the tomb floor inches from his neck. “Now that’s twice and we are even and out of respect I’ll answer your question. I am Ophelia Delacroix of Clan Plagueis formerly of the One Sith.”

She moved away and sent the message via the force to the creatures and they moved in. The sound of breaking bone and tearing flesh echoed from behind her and for his credit the man did not scream. When it was done she turned to see the wraids staring at her hungrily. She attempted to send them away but nothing. She attempted to verbally command them but they simply strode towards her.

The Sword grew heavy in her hands and her body began to ache in pain as if it was being drained. She attempted to drop the sword and it would not budge, the wraids moved closer drawn to her and she began to panic, her free hand went to her belt, snapping her saber into life and bringing it down upon her wrist severing her hand from her body. As they dropped the wraids seemed to lose their interest and went back into the tomb. Ophelia snarled eyeing her prize before turning on her heel, departing the cave system quickly before it became her tomb.

Howlader reached out with the Force to get a sense on the number of wraids in the tomb, but all he could feel was their animalistic rage. Perhaps, he thought, his age was dulling his senses – or maybe it was the energies surrounding this anonymous Sith Lord’s tomb. Whatever the reason, he put it out of his mind and concentrated on the wraids he could see – and it looked to be about a dozen.

From the corner of the tomb, Howlader heart a biting and raspy voice: "I’m not finished yet, old man!" He turned to see the cyborg force herself from the tomb’s floor and activate her silver hilted lightsaber. "Whatever is in this tomb is what I was sent here to find, and I am claiming it for my own!" Howlader could see the rage in her eyes, and in his estimation she was building up to something much worse.

Out of the corner of his eye, Howlader saw the wraids begin to gather near the female cyborg in an uncharacteristically organized pack. Howlader remembered that wraids usually worked in small packs – but smaller than the dozen or so that were now snarling at him from across the tomb. It was becoming clear to Howlader that these creatures were not merely behaving based upon animalistic instinct, but were being guided or controlled by an external force.

Howlader’s suspicions were confirmed a moment later, when the cyborg let out a piercing and feral scream, pointing her organic arm towards Howlader’s direction. The wraids snarled and began charging towards him. Realizing the gravity of his situation, Howlader dove back through the hole created by his earlier telekinetic blast. The mission on this planet was becoming far too much of a pain, Howlader thought, and all he wanted to do was get back to Senility and leave. Instead of what he wanted to do – he did what he needed to do, and continued to flee from the advancing wraids and their cyborg mistress.

Howlader was able to keep a safe distance from the creatures for a few minutes, but his advanced years and inexperience in ground operations were getting the best of him. As he rounded another dusty corner, the old man realized he was losing ground and would not be able to keep this pace for long. Tired and annoyed, Howlader resolved to change his tactics, and stopped in his tracks at the end of the long passage. As the wraids approached Howlader’s position, he steadied himself – and then unleashed a massive blast of lightning from his fingertips. The blast nearly brought down the passage’s ceiling, but it was consistent with Howlader’s intent, at least going by the smell of burned animal flesh that assaulted his nose. When the dust and smoke cleared, Howlader saw the carcasses of the destroyed wraids, but the One Sith woman was nowhere to be found.

Howlader sighed, irritated at having expended all that energy and still having more work to do. He groaned, and went back down the passageway, reaching out with the Force and trying to find the cyborg. Unable to locate her, Howlader continued through the cave system and arrived back at the tomb, only to see his opponent mesmerized by a metallic sceptre. Howlader surmised that the object in her hand was the object of Ashen and the Dark Council’s desire.

"Look," Howlader began shouting across the tomb, "I am tired of this. Just give me the blasted trinket and you can go back to your One Sith masters while I go home."

The cyborg let out a shrill scream of "never," and began to erratically charge towards Howlader. It was becoming clear that whatever power this One Sith had over the wraids in this cave, combined with her earlier rage incident, had temporarily (or permanently for all he knew) warped her mind.

Instead of a distinct and a vocal reply, all Howlader could discern were grunts and growls. The old man was now annoyed beyond all comparison, and resolved to end this. He reached out with the Force and stopped the charging One Sith in her tracks and lifted her into the air. Reaching out with his left hand, Howlader telekinetically tore off her cybernetic leg. She screamed out in pain as her other cybernetic components smoked and sparked. With his target immobilized, Howlader reached out with both hands and fired lightning from his fingers.

Exhausted and grumpy, Howlader trudged over to the cyborg’s corpse to double check that she was dead. She was, and he took the opportunity to take the scepter from her grasp. Satisfied, he made for the hole in the side of the tomb. A number of minutes of trudging later, Howlader emerged from the cave system to the visage of his beloved Senility. He smiled, and climbed aboard.