So named because it is located one thousand, three hundred, and thirteen levels from the core of Coruscant, Level 1313 is distanced from the politics of the upper levels. Overlooking the chasm burrowing further into Coruscant’s core, one can watch freighters transporting their illicit cargo between levels. One misstep would send the careless careening into the bottomless pit, or aid the local gangs in staging “accidents.”

Weathered duracrete forms the retainer along the chasm wall, built in concentric rings that descend down an untold height. Strengthened with solid durasteel braces, maintenance has not been needed this far into Coruscant for a long time. Nevertheless, droids pre-programmed to fill in the cracks and crevices that might form in the walls float on repulsorlifts without drawing attention from the criminal gangs; themselves, being focused on their next smuggling operation or struggle for control over Coruscant’s scum-filled underbelly.

Amidst the various sizes of stacked containment pods, Rhylance toured the four hundred and thirteenth level of the pit. The Chiss had found a small space of time for him to travel away from Taldryan to pick up his “merchandise.” After finishing his final checks of his units, the Consul walked over to the foreman of the shipping magnate his order was placed through.

“My good sir, I hope that your cargo is to your liking.”

Rhylance showed only a slight grin and he walked along the cracked duracrete floor. He pulled out his data pad to begin transferring credits for his new cargo.

“All 30 containers seem stable, and all of their occupants are alive and well, so yes. I am happy with your service once again,” he responded to the foreman.

“That will be the usual rate then Rhylance. Three thousand credits a head.”

“I appreciate your institutions discreteness with my property. There are many who wouldn’t understand my work.”

“It’s none of our business why you need the thirty living bodies. We just need our pay,” the foreman responded with a wave of his hand.

“And the payment you shall have.”

As the two began settling their business, a Quarren with an Armor weave cloak walked past the small cargo landing. Lexiconus Qor had his own mission to complete throughout the many levels of this pit. As he strode past one of the containers, he sensed a presence almost calling out to him. The Quarren began inspecting the nearby containment pod only to realize the frightening secret it held. These pods all contained the still functioning bodies of sentient beings who were the victims of illegal black-market trafficking.

Angered by this clear disrespect for life, Lexiconus began to interact with the pods computer based locks. He felt the need to free these beings from their stasis and allow them a chance at freedom. As his hands worked furiously against the screen’s keys, a cold feeling enveloped his body, as if the Force itself turned to ice.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to step away from my merchandise,” a cold calculated voice stated behind him. As Lexiconus turned he found himself staring into the menacing red eyes of a Chiss. “I don’t know, nor do I care who you are, but that is my property you are messing with. Leave now and forget what you saw. If you do, then we’ll shall not have a problem. If not, well, I guess I’ll just have to make room for one more body aboard my vessel.” The Chiss had a blaster trained on the Quarren. Rhylance hoped that this intruder would be smart enough to leave. He loathed the thought of a fight right now. He had places to be, experiments to run.

“What say you?”

Lexiconus remained silent and unmoving as he concentrated on the Force around him. As a trained medic he loathed the thought of killing, but in this instance he would gladly do it. Thrusting his hand down to the ground, the Quarren cause a ripple of Force energy to grow away from the impact source. Slamming into the Chiss, the energy caused him to stumble and crash to the floor, dropping his silenced blaster.

Lexiconus took out his saber staff and activated the green blades with a hiss.

“Vile creatures such as yourself deserve a painful death. Allow me to grant you one.”

As he inspected and scanned the Chiss, Lexiconus shifted his body sideways as he angled his left side back, and raised the saberstaff high. He caught the infamous symbol of Taldryan on the Chiss’ right shoulder and growled lowly.

He heard the horror stories coming from Taldryan, about the mysterious doctor who performed living autopsies, rendering his patients - or subjects, for a lack of a better word - paralysed, unable to protect themselves from the macabre surgery. It was a disgusting thought to Lexiconus, who turned his lip at it. With a growl, he spoke.

“Demons such as yourself need to be silenced, and eradicated from the Force. I can sense you won’t go down easily. So I will only ask you this one time. Submit and obey!” He shouted, his words carrying a spirit of authority. The foreman who watched this, slackjawed and trembling, dropped his datapad and ran for his office.

The green blade shined brightly in contrast to Rhylance’s skin, as Lexiconus carefully hovered it next to his neck. The soft, vibrant hum of the weapon echoed through the container yard, reminding the men how deathly silent it was today.

“It seems we garnered a crowd, it would be a shame for this battle to cease so quickly, wouldn’t you agree?” The Commander flashed a disarming smile towards the Quarren, but Lexiconus growled more and jammed his blade closer.

“Your trickery and deception won’t work on me, blue. But I will bite on your idea. It is time to kill the competition, so to speak,” The Quarren nodded to himself. Rhylance flashed that charming smile once again. This was his moment.

The flicker of warning in the Force came a second too late as he felt the sting of pain, a flash of silver and black quickly swiped across his leathery cheek. Rhylance rolled and stumbled away, as he forced himself to his feet and ran in the opposite direction. He placed his hand on his cheek and felt the incision of the Chiss’ scalpel, then his vision became misty and blurred. The Seer staggered and collapsed against the container, as thunder and rain pour ignited from the sky. His eyes tried to concentrate, as a female approached him in some dark coat. Her orange hands extended out to Lexiconus, as she whimpered and beckoned him.

“Love, come home. Please, come home,” She whispered, her voice broken as her tears flooded.

“Did you ever love me? Do you know? Did you ever want to be my own?” She pleaded his attention, as her upsetting and whimpering face became Lexiconus’ only distraction. But this wasn’t real, he knew it wasn’t. How could it be?

He knew the truth about this scene, he was there. The rain pour was so heavy outside of his home, and it was him who waited, not her. His tears that flooded the puddles, not hers. It was her who chose another man, not him. As he shook his head to remove the false memories, he concentrated in the Force to resist, as his blurred vision became sharp and focused again.

Once he came to, there was no sign of the Chiss anywhere. But the Force gave his position away. Lexiconus sighed as he flurried his saberstaff and walked forward.

“Stop hiding in the shadows, and reveal yourself in the light. I could virtually sense your palpitating heart from the next yard!”