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.

Begeren’s plunder has been rich, and the Clans and Houses have been bolstered, both by the favor they are currying with the Grand Master, and with their own triumphs against rivals. More fighting seems to have occurred between the Clans and Houses than against the One Sith, and the stream of priceless artifacts has slowed to a trickle as of late. The invasion of Begeren has now entered a wholly different phase, and though the end goal of capturing the world’s precious secrets remains the same, the methods of achieving it have changed. At least for now. The Dark Council has identified several settlements and key military objectives to seize, both for use as staging grounds, and to quell any revolts against Brotherhood authority before they begin. It has fallen to the Clans and Houses to seize these objectives, with large accolades and bounties to those willing to undertake dangerous missions, alone, into hostile territory. Despite the recent inter-clan aggressions, the Dark Council has made it clear that the bounties for taking objectives cannot be shared between units.

One such objective, a V-150 Planet Defender ion cannon, lies nestled in one of Begeren’s northern mountain ranges. The inhospitable and semi-arid region is known for its relatively cooler temperatures compared to the rest of the planet, and is home to one of the only active spaceports on Begeren. Though most of the region is patrolled by local militias, a sizable One Sith presence is thought to be in the area. An enormous feminine stone face, carved into the side of a towering cliff side, overlooks both the ion cannon and the neighboring spaceport, paying homage to a long-dead female Sith Lord.

You stand in a massive scree field beneath the adorned cliff side. The dark side is almost palpable here beneath the monument, but your true goal is the installation and the massive ion cannon immediately to your west. The installation is lightly guarded, and can be accessed by a natural, mountainous tunnel entrance. The entrance is well-lit and quite large for a tunnel access shaft, big enough for the heavy machinery needed to construct and maintain the massive ion cannon. The tunnel itself splits a few hundred yards in, leading to two separate objectives.

There are two main objectives: the fire control and targeting room, and the main power generators. Intelligence reports indicate that the fire control and targeting room is manned by two gunners and two-to-three militiamen from the local settlement. Intelligence also reports a light contingent of three guards and a slew of power droids around the power generators. Which objective you choose depends, in part, on whether you wish to take or destroy the ion cannon. A barracks is not far from the ion cannon, and it’s possible that the One Sith could be lurking closeby should you arouse suspicion.

The sound of shifting rocks and falling boulders alerts you to the presence of another not far from the tunnel entrance, as well. You head quickly into the tunnel, knowing your opponent may be upon you at any time.

Sounds first. The sizzle of frayed wires, hiss of exposed vents, crackle of blazing fires and creak of beams breaking. An alarm sounded in the distance. Everything signaled the familiar hum of chaos.

Sight blurred as Aabsdu Dupar opened his left eye. His right opened only partially, clamped shut from swelling. The room was in turmoil as metal bent every which way. Droids were scattered about, mixed in with various pieces of species’ appendages. The Adept counted three different beings and determined it unlikely any were alive without arms, legs, or the Rodian lacking half his face.

Taste. Blood in his mouth. Smell. The air thick with exhaust fumes. The type of coolant used in computer systems or power generators. Power generators… His mind returned to him.

Feeling. A beam pinned the Consul to the wall. Looking down, he saw a shard of steel two fingers wide speared through his abdomen. He felt little pain, a benefit of the concussion that would soon slip away. Power generators, in a previous life. What were they now? What was his purpose here?

He felt the answer. Not what, but who. There, draped across a separate beam, unconscious but alive in the writhing ebb and flow of the Force. Sith Warrior Evant Taelyan. His robes were burned away, his armor scorched and patches of skin blackened. Aabsdu wanted Evant. He wanted the man to perish, to suffer, but why did he wish this? Why…why…

Aabsdu remembered…

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Ten Minutes Earlier

The targeting control room of the V-150 Planet Defender ion cannon was no Death Star targeting control room. There were less panels, less buttons, and less black hues for more grey and brown ones. The tiny space looked like a security checkpoint with a center computer console and several small screens positioned in front, but one did not need large view screens to aim a giant cannon toward the skies and fire upon orbiting vessels. The two gunners, both Human, sat peacefully. Their last day on the job.

"Target acquired," one of the gunners said monotone. The second turned to the three guards behind them, two Gotals, one Human. All wore light armor with electro-sticks and standard Czerka blaster pistols.

"Nash," the second gunner said, "You wanted to try this out, yes?"

One of the Gotals grinned and stepped toward the console. He positioned his furred hand over a small red button and looked to the second gunner, "For the One Sith."

The room went dark, but the lights did not go out. Within a second, all light was pushed outward from its point of origin - Nash the Gotal. Bulbs vanished. Guards vanished. Even the glowing buttons on the console vanished.

Nash froze, confused yet instinctively falling on his training as his hand dropped to his blaster. He called out, "Jorge?"

Bbzshoooooooo….

Nash spun to see twin silver blades pierce the darkness, and with their light returned the room. He witnessed an impressive sight. Before him stood a man of average build in a slim dark robe. The man stood between the other two guards, arms outstretched so one blade pierced forward while the second behind, both cut cleanly through his comrades’ chests.

Aabsdu Dupar looked at Nash and grinned. Nash reacted, pulling his blaster and letting loose two shots, but Aabsdu was faster. He pulled back his blades and spun them conversely, slapping away one of the bolts and redirecting the second straight back into Nash’s face.

The Gotal barely hit the floor before Aabsdu had stepped forward and sliced straight down one of the gunners, cleaving him head to gut. The second gunner screamed a silent scream as Aabsdu raised a hand and threw him hard against the wall. His silent scream silenced.

Easy enough, Aabsdu thought as he put away his weapons and moved to the computer. Slicing was not his strong suit, but he hoped he could manage to locate an abort button. The ion cannon appeared to be targeting a vessel of Clan Naga Sadow. The Krath was half tempted to activate it. He just needed to find the right…

WHOOSH!

Aabsdu was thrown forward, head first over the console and straight into the view screens which cracked under the impact. He jumped back to his feet, lightsabers instantly in his hands as he turned to see his attacker.

Aabsdu’s head canted at the sight, and he mused, "Evant?"

Evant Taelyan smirked sheepishly. The Sith was a small man of Scholae Palatinae, and Aabsdu had little worry toward him. Evant returned the welcome, "I have to take this cannon."

Aabsdu laughed, "Sorry?"

"I am here to claim the cannon for Scholae."

The Krath laughed again and leapt forward, landing a meter in front of the Warrior and slamming down both lightsabers like a hammer, but Evant had already pulled his own cerulean blade up to block. He tried using the block to slide Aabsdu into a circle that would flip their positions and place Evant closer to the console, but the Krath knew better and held his ground.

"Why don’t we take this outside," Aabsdu quipped with a hint of malice.

"Too late," blurted a voice from behind. Both Dark Jedi turned to see the second gunner leaning over the console, hand planted on the small red activation button. Aabsdu and Evant reached out simultaneously and sent bolts of electricity surging into him, but his hand had already pressed down.

Sounds. The distant blast of an ion cannon firing into the fleet.

The deep sound of highly ionized plasma being propelled beyond the atmosphere of Begeren was quickly replaced by the shrill wallop of the installation’s intruder alarms echoing through the tunnels outside the control room. Hydraulic sounds of the blast doors closing tight muffled the alarms outside and sealed the Dark Jedi inside alone.

“So much for taking this outside,” Aabsdu complained.

Squaring up his feet the Adept whirled his silver blades into action, with a step forward once again engaging the Warrior. Unwilling to let Evant catch a break he continued to block his blows and press his own attacks.

Evant pushed back hard with each parry. With each counter attack. Unwilling to give up his prize the Sith pushed his body to its limits, but still found no openings in his opponents attacks. Frustrated, he screamed out in frustration through his grit teeth.

A powerful wave of the Force pressed out and hit Aabsdu head on like an invisible wall. Everything not bolted to the floor was caught up in the torrent and pressed to the corners of the small room. Though the room was now more of a disaster as the energy tore through it, the Krath had dissipated most of it.

For his effort, Evant had merely pushed his opponent back several meters and gained a several second reprieve from the onslaught.

Realizing his opponent would gain the same luxuries from a break, bolts of electricity surged from his free hand. As the tendrils of electricity began to close the newly formed gap, a loose terminal flew to meet them. The sound of metal twisting as it slammed into the concrete floor below his feet was all the warning Evant had before the rogue equipment hit him square in the chest.

The small framed Human let out a moan as his back landed square onto the concrete floor several meters from where he had been standing. The terminal broke open as it came to a rest against the far wall. Fighting against the new pain shooting across his body the Sith scrambled back to his feet.

“You won’t have the cannon,” Evant spat as he reached and grabbed his lightsaber from the floor, igniting it again as he stood up.

Surprised not to have a flurry of lightsaber strikes heading his way, he looked up and followed the eyes of his opponent. Aabsdu was in a defensive stance across the room, his offhand lightsaber ahead of him defensively, his eyes focused not on Evant though but across the room.

Following his gaze he too spotted the distraction.

Bright white molten metal began to pour from a burning red hole on the blast door. The crimson blade of a lightsaber pierced the center as the hole became a line.

“Maybe we’ll go outside afterall,” Aabsdu quipped, masking his frustration with sarcasm, his tone marking the duel at hand as little more than a joke to the Adept.

After several steps back to build some distance Evant pulled a datapad from his robes, taking a glance at the display.

04:00

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Sixteen Minutes and Thirty Seconds Earlier

Dirt seemed to coat everything in the poorly lit engineering control room, bathed in a fitting amber yellow light that amplified the filth. One could hardly notice the dismembered leg of a Human sitting amongst a pile of wiring, or the bottom half of a Rodian still in a sitting position at the refresher station in the corner.

Clear, sharp, immaculate, precise, systemic, honed, none of these words could be used to describe the terminal that the Sith was used to onboard an Impstar Deuce. Yet the systems that powered the surface-to-orbit ion cannon on the surface above him had a welcomed familiar feel.

Enter into engineering mode, maintenance module, system control parameters.

He glanced up from the terminal nervously as he worked, navigating his way through an unfamiliar set of menus. It had been a while since he touched a terminal on a starship or otherwise, more often than not finding himself barking orders from the bridge. Luckily what he had learned not to do in training at the Imperial Academy, was about becoming what to do.

A power droid popped across the corner, its electrical systems finally gave up and fried as it attempted to reboot from the shock it took mere moments before. Evant cracked a smile, a sign of things to come at a much grander scale.

Turn off the startup sequence for the coolant systems, dampening systems, safety guards.

He could hear footsteps outside the door. He was running out of time. He needed to set an ultimatum if he expected to gain what he wanted.

Enter maintenance schedules, setup custom schedule, save.

He pulled a datapad out of his pocket and set it on the top of the console and opened up a timer. He set it.

20:00

04:00

Oblivious to their impending doom, the consul pondered the next move. They knew the power balance, and he doubted Evant ignorant enough to die for a single cannon. What, then, was the end goal?

The blast door melted away as the One Sith burned his way through. There would be a squad of soldiers ready to take them down, but they were not Aabsdu’s primary concern. Events transpired that he was unaware of; he could not make the pieces fit.

Several meters away, Evant prepared to tackle their shared enemy. Another "Brotherhood" cliche. Seconds earlier they had been clawing at each other’s throats; a simple change of fortune now had them working together to defeat those who threatened the Iron Throne’s crusade. The entire thing was absurd.

03:00

The barrier continued to evaporate as Aabsdu closed his eyes, opening himself to the ocean of the Force. Awash in the ebb and flow, he was aware of Evant nearby, alert and ready, likely thinking his chance of survival better if he chose to betray the Adept later. Beyond him, the blast door oozed away beneath the signature of some One Sith overly excited at his chance to kill during another mundane patrol.

He pushed deeper, stretching his fortitude to its limits as he squinted for what lie ahead not physically but temporally. A sudden wave of possibility rolled over him, overwhelming the Adept with images he had neither the experience nor time to dissect. One image revealed itself, a hazy, smoke-filled view that showed the expected outcome - fire, explosion, and death.

Another wave passed over the Krath as he returned to the present: exhaustion. Years of service, of training and victory could culminate in his destruction fighting a Palatinaen he did not dislike on some deserted rock of a planet in a system he didn’t care to be in. Years of pain, of misery and sacrifice to the Iron Throne meant nothing in the end. He had been reduced to fodder.

Aabsdu was not fodder. He was Consul of Clan Plagueis, and he had better things to do than slap people around.

02:00

The former Headmaster made his decision. He did not want to take this outside. He wanted to leave all of it here in a heap as worthless as his mission to capture the cannon was at genesis. Deactivating his lightsabers, he strode toward the door. A wave of power welled from within as he prepared to alter the future the Force had shown him.

The center section of durasteel gave way, but stopped short of the floor, caught by the invisible plank of power represented by Aabsdu’s outstretched palm. He brought his hand vertical, pulled back, and shoved it forward, his face etched by a maddened grin. The molten metal mimicked his motion, pulling inward to reveal the lowly Sith and his minions before hurtling forward into the group. The splash of blood coated the guardsmen, the crunch of bones under heavy durasteel echoing loudly in the confined space.

01:00

Evant watched Aabsdu burst out of the room and down the hallway toward the generators. The Palatinaen followed, intent on extricating himself from the premises with what little time remained.

Reaching the fork between the generators and outside world, he took the turn. Squads of militiamen clogged the length of the passage out, rifles at the ready. Evant deflected a wave of blaster fire as he backpedaled. The Force whispered to him just soon enough for the Sith to spin and deflect fire from the lone survivor of the Plagueian’s power.

Only one way remained if he was going to buy himself the time to survive, and one quick glance at his datapad made clear it was rapidly slipping away.

00:30

Inside the generator room, Aabsdu stood crazed. None of it mattered. The cannon. The planet. The One Sith. Not even his life mattered if he allowed himself to be thrown into the Grand Master’s chess game. He was no pawn. He needed to show it in a way clear to everyone.

00:15

"Wait!" yelled Evant as he bolted into the room, heading straight to the computer console.

00:05

Aabsdu was unfazed as he sent torrents of electricity surging from his arms into the generators around them. The room crackled with energy, and the Force called out in alarm as the safety measures finally disintegrated. Evant barely managed to throw up a barrier as the room collapsed in on itself.

00:00

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Sounds - the familiar hum of chaos. Sight - body parts scattered. Taste - dust choked him. Smell - burning flesh.

Feeling - disgust and disappointment. Aabsdu lay broken and pinned, and Evant nearby, unconscious but alive. The Consul did not want him alive. Why did he want this?

He didn’t.

Here, amongst their carnage, Aabsdu saw his failure. He had pierced the Force yet failed to understand its message. He had allowed himself to enter into another "Brotherhood" game in which he was to push away the beam, heave himself to his feet, and finish Evant so he might leave their arena as the last man standing.

Here, at the end of it all, the Consul found himself swirling among the same cliches of years past and years to come. Anger bubbled within, fueling him to claim his pointless victory.

He refused to give in to the fear and anger, to allow his frustrations and irritations to overcome his logic. He chose to let the moment pass, to chart his own course.

The former Headmaster rose, clearing the debris, hand to his wet gut as he slid the light Palatinaen over his shoulder and limped his way free of the rubble. He would not die here, nor would he play into the game again. He was not the pawn. He was the player, and he had better things to do.

Sixteen Minutes Thirty Seconds Later

A violent hiss of pure plasma superheating and melting the durasteel blast doors continued, filling the targeting control room, the piercing cries of the intruder alarms outside amplified with each inch carved by the powerful lightsaber as the One Sith came to the defense of their installation. Inside, it was hard to imagine anyone would still be alive after the conflict between to two Dark Jedi of the Brotherhood.

“So when you said you came here to claim the cannon for Scholae, you meant to claim a pile of cannon rubble?” Aabsdu snapped at Evant, in disbelief over the conversation he was having.

“Our fleet is in space over Begeren right now, this installation poses a risk as long as it stands, regardless who is in control,” Evant replied, a hint of concern carried with each word. Worried he was running out of time to escape.

“Why are you still here then? Thought you might toss an Adept around a bit before making your grand escape?”

“I didn't expect to find you here. I hoped to get some use out of the cannon before it went out of service.”

“So sorry to ruin your plans, but this cannon is more useful to Plagueis intact.”

CLUNK!

The last few inches of the makeshift hole through the center of the blastdoors were cut. As the massive sheet of door fell into the room, a wave of fresh sounds overwhelmed the ongoing conversation. First through the doorway was a yellow skinned Zabrak, crimson lightsaber in hand wrapped in form fitting black armor.

Crackling of Force lightning filled the air as Aabsdu stepped forward to greet them. Evant glanced again at his datapad, nervously watching the seconds tick down while still inside the installation, as his only means of escape looked more like a plasma lamp.

Determination on the Adepts face as he relentlessly unleashed the power of the Force on the One Sith. The lightning first wrapped his lightsaber, effortlessly breaking through any barrier raised as a last second defense, finding its way easily to his body next. All the muscles in the Zabrak’s body fought the energy and failed as he was pushed back through the doorway.

As the energy dissipated and faded, it took a moment for additional guards to poke their blasters inside and start firing. Immediately bright white and sapphire blades erupted to life inside the control room in response to the emerald blaster bolts as Aabsdu and Evant deflected and tossed the attacks back.

WHOOSH! CRACK!

Two Minutes Later

Throbbing pain pressed at the corners of Evant’s head as he blinked hard trying to make sense of the room. He knew it as soon as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. He knew what had happened. He even knew why. He only cursed himself for not being more prepared. He had been tossed aside and left for dead by Aabsdu the first chance he got.

Immediately snapping back to reality he frantically scanned the ground around him for the datapad, he saw it sitting on the floor several meters away. Ignoring all pain that surged through his body the Warrior scrambled across the floor to check the display.

00:02

He knew it wasn't enough time, yet he tried anyways. By the time he reached the door the entire facility went dark. Deep red emergency lighting replaced the bright utility lighting of the massive tunnel outside the room. Somewhere nearby, too close for comfort, the main power generators were restarting. Only their safety guards would be down when they started back up.

He had no idea where Aabsdu was, only body parts of various guards left in the Adepts wake as he undoubtedly headed for the surface. Evant wondered how far he had made it, if he himself would get out of this alive. Regret set in for going too far, when he could have just left the control room well alone the instant he saw the Adept.

Lighting flickered as the main power generators kicked back on. The coolant systems however, would never start to help prevent the system from overheating as the fusion process began to pour electricity back onto the grid. Dampening systems would never engage to keep the system under control. For a moment Evant wondered if his actions would even have any impact in the age of safe system design.

Each step towards the exit brought both an excitement to get out alive, and disappointment that the ion cannon hadn't imploded around him yet.

A deep hollow sound, one that seemed to consume all other sound in its wake filled the entire corridor. The power systems that had once given life to the ion cannon now tore through its vital systems and rendered it lifeless.

As the corridor began to collapse around him, Evant leapt into the air to avoid a falling beam, only to find contact with a falling section of the ceiling that took with it his consciousness.

Five Minutes Later

Unable to find contact with the outside world, Evant felt trapped in his own mind. His physical form was bent, broken, ruined. He had trouble even remembering where he last was. Where his physical body came to rest was an unfamiliar concern. He wondered if he was even still alive.

Only the Force reminded him he still had some connection to the physical world. Yet he could already feel the energies leaving him. Panic set in, trying to grasp why the Force was slipping away from him while his body still lived.

His bodily organs began to shut down. Something or someone was wreaking havoc on his physical form. The only luxury the Warrior had in his last moments is that he was no longer connected to the twisted burning flesh that was his former body.

As his last fleeting consciousness slipped beyond the veil one last image came to him.

Aabsdu.