Competition: Shades Of The Past

Finished
Shades Of The Past

What made you who you are?

Before heeding the call of the Brotherhood, our characters had lives, memories, history. Perhaps you were born in Brotherhood space? where were you, what were your motives, what was your profession?

All of these possibilities can be explored as you, in no less than 500 words, write about your character, alt, or NPC's past. This will be a good exercise for adding depth to your characters as you piece together events that helped shape them. 

Text box submissions, PDF, gdoc links are all acceptable formats.

Grading will follow the Fiction Grading Rubric.

Competition Information
Organized by
/competitions/16495
Running time
2021-02-01 until 2021-02-14 (14 days)
Target Unit
Clan Naga Sadow
Competition Type
Fiction
Awards
Third Level Crescents and Clusters of Ice as per VOICE guidelines
Participants
6 subscribers, of which 3 have participated.
Results
Member
Malisane Sadow
Textual submission

Shades of the Past - A Clone's Tale.

The Centoa Facility
Gamuslag
Orian System
28 ABY

“Name. Rank. Designation.”
The clone slowly opened his eyes and met those of the bearded man wearing the uniform of a Dlarit Admiral in front of him. He was disorientated but the words instantly came to him as his hand snapped into a salute. “Senth, Captain, Delta-19.”
The Admiral studied him for a few seconds and nodded. “Make your way to the holding area Captain.”
Senth saluted again, and as the flag officer moved to the next cylinder he glanced to his left to see a figure wearing the same white coverall he himself wore disappearing into another room. His eyes snapped back right to where the Admiral was addressing the occupant of the next cylinder. He was accompanied by a man with a tattooed face and red armour. Senth slowly stepped out of the cylinder, and began to walk down the corridor and passed into the next chamber. Eighteen other men with the same facial features but slightly different hair or face coverings were stood to attention in neat ranks and Senth quickly joined at the back, next to the one with “Delta-18” written on the breast of his coverall. He waited silently with the others for the next thirty minutes as slowly the remaining fifteen clones joined the ranks in the chamber. Finally the officer entered the room, still followed by the tattooed man.

“At ease!” the officer ordered. “I am Admiral Araic Simonetti, commander of the Dlarit Security Force and the Dlarit Special Operations Group, the latter of which you are now members of. It is our duty to protect Clan Naga Sadow and the Orian System in which they make their home.” He indicated the tattooed man stood next to him who silently surveyed the ranks. “This is Consul Macron Sadow, the leader of Clan Naga Sadow, who in turn serves the Clan Overlord, Astronicus Dlarit Sadow, the heir of Naga Sadow himself.”
The tatooed man spoke up then. “As the Admiral has told you, I am the Consul of this Clan. For several months now since the Clan's withdrawal at Antei, the Admiral and I have worked to develop our cloning programme, to refresh our forces and improve their efficiency. And you are the ultimate result of those efforts, the Dlarit Advanced Commando programme. You are the best, the elite, given every ability and strength we can give you to serve our Clan and our members. Each of you is the best our military forces have at our disposal.”
The Admiral waited for the Consul to finish and then spoke up. “Over the coming months your natural strengths and abilities will be honed through intense training and study. It will be hard, and difficult, and any that fail those standards will be terminated rather than that failure remain. And when it is done you will be assigned duties. You will guard and serve the Clan's senior members, you will be spread amongst our fleet and ground forces to enforce the Clan's authority and keep a watchful eye on our officers and crews, and you will guard our most secret locations. You will be the backbone of our forces and protect and serve at the highest level and with the highest efficiency.
The Consul continued then. “As the Admiral has said. We expect the best from you and we will accept no failure. However we have every confidence that you will live up to our high expectations and the effort we have undertaken in your creation. For now you are dismissed. You will go to your assigned quarters and prepare for your training.”
As one the thirty four Dlarit Advanced Commandos snapped to attention and saluted.

The next few weeks had been an intense cycle of classroom study and combat training. In the classroom they had listened to lectures about Clan Naga Sadow, including its history, it's politics, the make-up of it's forces and the geography of the Orian system and the wider Dark Brotherhood it was a part of. It had also included extensive education in biology, tactics, languages, technology and weapon craft and techniques around both surveillance and counter surveillance.
Their afternoons had spent in the training halls, both in hand to hand combat with each other practising both armed and unarmed techniques and in the firing ranges, as well as simulated missions against both each other and artificial opponents. These had included assassinations, anti terrorist operations and storming techniques and diplomatic protection.

Senth worked his way diligently through his training. Despite the weeks together there was little bonding amongst the DACs. Meal times were a silent affair as they ate their rations together on long benches, the classroom was quiet except for when a student was prompted to answer a question or offer a counter point to theory. Even the hand to hand combat was performed quietly and efficiently, the only voices those of the instructors. And in the evenings they ate silently and each returned to their small room with it's bunk, wardrobe and bathing facilities, where they meditated and contemplated the days lessons and activities before sleep.
Senth, or Delta-19 as he was designated, found the routine and the expectations of his superiors reassuring and fulfilling. He was however beginning to observe changes in some of his fellow clones. Though most like himself went quietly and efficiently through their duties, he began to notice several becoming more heated in the combats, more driven in the classrooms to put themselves forward, and the usual calm visage expected of all the clones occasionally cracking into a smile of triumph at a success, or annoyance at a defeat, or amusement at the fall of another. The instructors and the Summit observers seemed to take notice of this but did not appear to comment. Senth resolved to do likewise and focus on himself and his own progression.

The next few weeks took them out of the classroom and the Centoa facility itself. Bundled onto shuttles at short notice, usually in the night or occasionally during mealtimes, they hastily donned their armour and readied their weapons. Together they explored the forest of Sepros and jungles of Aeotheran, hunting creatures for either defence or food, trekked across the frozen areas of Tarthos, performed high altitude jumps over high and low gravity moons, stormed ships and walked around the cities of Seng Karash trailing suspects or delivering packages under the noses of the authorities where detection would mean failure and detention.

Finally they were taken back to Centoa and each was taken to a dark room with an officer, stripped, and subjected to hours repeated screeching noises, interrogation, pain and beatings, and drugs designed to sap the will or confuse. Senth like his fellows went through all of this with a steely determination to succeed and offering no complaints.

Finally it came to and end. Each of the DACs were summoned to an office to meet the Consul and the Admiral. Each walked out with an assignment as indicated before. Some were assigned to members of the Summit or the Sons of Sadow to act as their personal agents. Others would assume the new position of Commissar in the regiments of the Dlarit Security force or aboard the capital ships, maintaining discipline and reporting unrest. Some were designated as liaisons with the other Clans of the Brotherhood or the Dark Council, or sent to subtly spy on them and other nearby forces. In turn each of them walked in and out, some of them showing triumph and a few annoyance in the traits that more of the clones had begun to display but Senth himself had yet to feel or understand. Finally as he watched the last leave. Delta-1 or Aurek, walked proudly out without a glance at Senth, heading for the Marakith Skyhook. Delta-19, now stood alone in the hall.

Senth continued to stand to attention in the empty room. For the first time doubts began to creep in. He had performed well throughout the training. His academic test scores and combat accuracy were not the best amongst the thirty four clones but it had consistently been in the top third. He had remained obedient and professional throughout. The only black mark on his record had been two weeks earlier when he had lost his mark on Aeotheran, but his backup Delta-5 had completed the mission and after the debrief no further action had been taken.
Had he failed for some reason he did not understand? He knew that around a third of the clones had begun to display emotions and individuality. Perhaps that had been the intention for them? Was his own failure that of not developing in the way expected, to become more than a clone?

“Delta-19, report to the briefing office.”
Senth quickly marched to the room and entered standing to attention and saluting. Behind the desk Admiral Simonetti and Consul Macron Sadow waited for him.
“At ease Captain,” Macron said with a cold smile. “I am sure you are eager to hear your assignment, but unfortunately someone had to be last.”
Senth displayed no emotion, his gaze focused on the wall behind the two leaders.
The Admiral spoke up. “You have performed well Delta-19, and we have your assignment that reflects your abilities. We would like to brief you on it.” He paused. “You are to be assigned to the planet Kangaras. You are familiar with that location?”
Senth was, though he was surprised by the mention of it. “Yes sir,” he replied, “former base of the True Brotherhood, who the Clan first en-counted and defeated there four years ago, sir.”
Macron gave the same cold smile. “Indeed Captain, I was there myself on that mission. And now?”
Senth thought, “Surveys were taken of the planet to determine if it was suitable for development or mining sir, but the geography and hostile creatures make it unsuitable for either. It was abandoned the following year.”
The Consul smiled. “Well done Captain. You have studied well. That is the correct official response.”
Simonetti nodded. “It is not however the truth. Kangaras, like this facility here on Gamuslag, is one of our more secretive black sites. We have a small presence there within the planets only permanent structure, Usharak Keep, where we conduct scientific experiments and surveillance.”
Macron took over. “This is not official. Both the Dark Council, and the other Clan's of the Brotherhood, are wary of any clan expanding it's territory without agreement, in case we get above ourselves or reveal our presence to the rest of the galaxy. So officially we do not have any forces or facilities there. In reality we have a company strength force and several of our scientific community stationed there permanently. You understand the secrecy of this and you will work to maintain that.”
“Yes sir.”

Macron waited a few seconds. “There is a secondary part of your duties. As Kangaras is secret we chose one of our members as prefect to oversee it. You are familiar with Battlemaster Malisane de Ath?”
Senth nodded. “Yes sir, former Clan Envoy and Quaestor of Ludo Kressh. Now officially on sabbatical sir.”
Macron nodded. “Indeed. You are being assigned to serve him as his official bodyguard and agent, as others have to ourselves and other Clan dignitaries. That being the case there are several things you should probably be aware of.”
Senth felt his apprehension rising again. “Sir?”
“He is, or was, a very promising rising member of the Clan,” Simonetti said quietly as he glanced at his Consul, “once intended for great things. However earlier this year he resigned from both Quaestor and a senior position within the Shadow Academy unexpectedly, and removed himself from view. His behaviour has become increasingly erratic, and given his past and who his father is we are concerned about him and what he might do next.”
Senth looked back at the Consul who was watching him intently. “None of this is official as we said, Senth. You are being assigned as his agent, and of course your loyalty is now to him. However should anything concern you about his actions you should remember where you came from.”
“Yes sir,” Senth replied. “Is he expecting me sir?”
Simonetti shook his head. “No, as a matter of fact. Though many of the Summit, Prefects and Sons of Sadow responded enthusiastically to the DAC programme, Battlemaster de Ath made it clear he did not want or need a bodyguard and firmly rebuffed the offer.”
Macron's smile became even darker, the tattooed Consul's eyes gleaming. “He is however having one anyway. And you are he.”
“Indeed,” the Admiral added, “he will not be pleased, he will probably not mind his manners, so I suggest you mind yours.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, then you are dismissed.”

Kangaras
Undesignated System

Senth studied the view from the shuttles window curiously as it descended. The jungle of Kangaras was thick and dark, beyond anything he had seen on Aeotheran or Sepros. Ahead he could make out an ancient keep rising from amongst the jungle, on a clifftop with a single path up to it and a sheer drop behind. Surrounding the keep on each side he could just make out four small settlements, with what appeared to be flames burning in them rather than artificial lighting. As the keep grew larger he could make out Dlarit troops on the battlements, and several turbolasers built into the sides of the structure. The keep gave off a forbidding air he was unable to place. He felt the engines power down as the shuttle began to descend towards a clearing directly in front of the keep. When they landed the ramp lowered and he grabbed his bag and stepped out into the empty clearing. Ahead several Dlarit troopers stood to attendtion either side of a large entrance, over which stood a curious metallic portcullis that was open. As Senth made his way forward a female officer walked out of the gate and walked forward, her blonde hair in a tight bun and her black D:SOG uniform showing the rank of Major.
Senth saluted her. “Captain Senth maam, reporting to the Prefect.”
She looked at him curiously, noting his rank bars. “A Dlarit Advanced Commando. Well, well, well. We were wondering if one of you would grace us with your presence. I am Major Voss and I command the forces here. I will show you to the Prefect.”
“Thank you,” he replied.
“As you will be aware this is Usharak Keep,” she continued, “as you will be aware this is an unofficial Dlarit facility and security is high.”
“I understand Major.”
“Good,” she replied, “there is a certain amount of curiosity amongst my troopers about you DACs. Some are eager to meet you, some are naturally suspicious. We have heard all sorts of rumours. The Prefect himself seems to be keeping his thoughts guarded on the matter.

Senth did not reply. He followed her into the entrance hall and looked around. It was empty except for torches on the walls, and several corridors and winding staircases leading elsewhere. Then he stopped and his eyes opened in surprise. At waist height, six creatures that approached him. They each carried blaster carbines in their paws and pikes strapped to their backs. They had black fur, armour that seemed to be welded to their chests rather than worn, and dark suspicious eyes that suddenly focussed on him suspiciously and intently. There was something deeply unsettling and predatory about them that even the usually fearless clone could sense. He looked at the Major who was regarding him with an amused look. “Are they..?”
She nodded. “The Sith-spawned Ewoks. Bred here on Kangaras by our Consul and the Prefect himself. Be very, very wary of them. To those they trust they are intensely loyal. To others they are deadly and merciless. They hunt in packs and I have never seen them back down from anything, and when you meet some of the creatures that call this planet their home that you will appreciate the significance of that.” She raised the communicator on her hand and spoke into it, and an unpleasant noise began to emerge from it, apparently translating her words though into what he was not sure. Though he had not studied ewokese, he had heard some of it in videos and this was something very different. The creature's gaze left the clone, glanced at her, and then spread out, walking around and past them outside through the gate.
Senth watched them go. “Do they live here?”
She shook her head. “No they have their own villages. Four of them, each two miles from the keep, with one hundred and fifty of them living there. They patrol the area around us and drive off the more vicious creatures that come too close. They seem to enjoy it, though I suppose they were conditioned to.”
Senth remembered the look they had given him. He had not seen that look on any creature or person he had encountered either in the Orian jungles or the frozen wastes. And there were six hundred of them out there? He felt a slight shiver.

He followed her up the stairs and down a corridor until they reached a heavy wood door. She knocked on it. “Enter!” a voice called.
She pushed it open and saluted the figure sat at the desk. “Prefect, I have with me Captain Senth reporting for duty sir, a Dlarit Advanced Commando.”
“Show him in.”
Senth entered and also saluted the man sat at the desk, studying him. The Battlemaster was of average height but well built, and had shortly clipped black hair above a pair of blue eyes. The eyes studied him and for a second their intensity matched those of the ewoks he had met a few moments ago. “You are dismissed Major.”
“Yes sir,” she saluted and left.
The Battlemaster's eyes continued to study the clone. “So, you are Delta-19?”
“I am sir, reporting for duty. You should have received my orders, sir.”
“I did indeed,” Malisane replied, “I made it clear to Macron and Simonetti I neither desire nor need a bodyguard. And yet here you are Delta-19.”
“Yes sir.”
“So what do I do with you now Delta-19?”
“I am here to obey your orders and carry out whatever duties you see fit,” Senth replied, keeping his features neutral.
Malisane nodded. “Very well. Your orders are to find a shuttle, return to Sepros, despatch the Consul and the Admiral, and then terminate yourself.”
Senth fought to keep his expression passive and focused his gaze on the wall behind the Prefect. He felt a rise in irritation he had not experienced before. “That would be contradictory to my primary directives, sir.”
“I see Delta-19. Then in the time being find yourself quarters in the keep and await further instructions. You may amuse yourself in whatever way you are conditioned to until you are needed, should that ever be the case.”
Senth saluted. “Very good Prefect.” He turned sharply and left the room.

He sat with his eyes closed on the floor by the single bed. The room was small and functional, reminding him of his quarters back at the Centoa facility. The main difference was that where this old quarters had gleaming white walls, this was dark grey stone. A small window at one end gave a view of the dark jungle in the distance, with a shimmering forcefield keeping the heat in and hostile forces out. As he sat focusing on his breathing he contemplated his experience since arrival. The encounter with the seemingly sociable Major, the sinister alchemically altered ewoks and the both sinister and unsociable Battlemaster had been a trial. His emotions throughout were new and unsettling. Where there had been tranquillity and simple obedience and compliance to the rules and his training there was now conflict and confusion as he fought between feelings of doubt, irritation, and apprehension. Was this what the other DACs had experienced? If this was personal growth, he was unsure whether it was positive or negative. He knew he had to deal with it though.

His eyes opened as the communicator on the wall beeped. He stood smoothly. “Captain Senth here.”
“Delta-19”, the Prefects voice came through, “a situation has arisen that I feel will be a good test for your advanced commando abilities.”
“Yes sir?”
“You are to proceed to the following coordinates I am relaying now, within the jungle. We have received reports from our patrols of something that may be an intruder or a probe. You will investigate and report back.”
“I understand sir.”
“Very good. Then proceed Delta-19”

Senth sat on the BARC speeder as he guided it through the dark jungle, the sensor display in front of him showing any movement ahead. There was some small signs of life out there, but nothing major. He was still within two miles of the keep, the area the Major had referred to as patrolled, which the other troopers dubbed the 'Ewok Exclusion Zone'. His target coordinates were two miles beyond that, where anything could happen. He again felt a rise in curiosity, and something else, an anticipation of events to come. He glanced at his display and saw a red line on the map, helpfully programmed into the speeders computer to indicate he was leaving the safe zone. He focused now. Hopefully most of whatever lived out here were active during the daytime and peaceful at night. The alternative was a concern however. Still he'd been on Sepros how much worse could it be.

His senses heightened at the sound of a blaster bolt and he felt something hit the speeder, which began to shake as sparks burst from behind him and though he couldn't smell it beneath his helmet a quick glance behind him revealed smoke began to trail from the back where flames began to emerge. He pushed the throttle forward, accelerating it for a few seconds as a second blaster bolt scorched over his shoulder. He felt the BARC shake and heat from behind him began to sink through his armour. With no other option he released his grip and jumped, feeling a jot as his jetpack fired up lifting him upwards, another blaster bolt passing beneath him. He saw the explosion as the speeder hit a tree, and then there was silence. He manoeuvred himself a bit further up and landed on a thick tree branch, ducking down. Pulling his own blaster from his back he surveyed the quiet surroundings. His display revealed several movements, something flying nearby and a large creature moving ponderously across the ground below to the west. Neither of which were likely to carry blasters. Then there was a movement in a tree nearby and another bolt scorched through the air towards him. He ducked and fired back. There was another shot from behind and he dropped backwards off the tree branch, falling towards the ground. As he reached it he fired a short burst from his jetpack, just enough to land smoothly on the ground.

He ducked and hid behind a bush, gripping his blaster carbine as his mind raced. This was odd. He was over a mile from the target coordinates he had been sent to investigate. Perhaps they were wrong, or whatever had been detected was on the move towards the keep? He raised his head, his helmet scanner revealing nothing as his gaze swept across the surroundings. The blasts had come from different directions, and some of them were from above high in the treetops. Whatever was firing at him were both small and manoeuvrable, droids maybe? As he considered that his scanner picked up a quick movement and he ducked as something hit the shoulder pauldron of his armour, scraping across it leaving a groove. He hit the ground and lay still, his helmet turning as he reached out and grabbed something long and metallic, pulling it towards himself. It was a black pike that had been thrown at him, like the ones he had seen earlier in the keep. A dreadful suspicion hit him, as suddenly he heard a high pitched series of cries, and more blaster bolts scorched towards him.

Senth rolled and his hand went to his belt, pulling the imploder from it and activating it. He waited for a few seconds until he heard soft movement, and then threw it into the bushes nearby. There was an explosion nearby shaking the trees, and then a much larger one that ripped through the surrounding area throwing dirt and wood from the ground up into the air, and above it he heard a loud screech of pain that was quickly silenced. Quickly he was on his feet and he thumbed the controls of his jetpack, sending him upwards once more as he fired at more indications of movement, and return fire narrowly missed him. His gaze swept up to a creature huddled on a tree branch above. He could not see it's eyes watching him, but he knew it was and it fired at him, missing his body but hitting the jetpack on his back. For the second time again he heard a burst of explosion from behind him and as the jetpack burst into flames he hit the release on his chest and began to fall, reaching out for a handhold as the ground rushed towards him. His hands caught a tree branch and he gripped it as it creaked but held and his arms burned as they took his weight. He looked upwards. He knew there were still more of the creatures up there, and on the ground below. He was a sitting target. He braced himself and let go, falling to the ground and hitting it hard, rolling. He had lost his blaster carbine and drew the smaller pistol from his belt. Slowly he raised himself up. Then he heard the loud whine of repulsor engines and looked up towards a shuttle lowering towards him and landing on the ground nearby. Above the engines he heard a voice shouting through the speaker, not in basic but in the strange language he had heard earlier.

Then the voice changed to understandable galactic basic. “Captain Senth, is that you?”
Senth waited for a few seconds. Was this a trap?
“Captain Senth, I repeat. This is Major Voss. We detected an explosion and the trail from your speeder. If you can here please respond.” The shuttle ramp lowered revealing light and an armoured figure holding a blaster rifle, as two more followed down the ramp.
Slowly the clone raised himself up cautiously. “I am here Major.”
She walked towards him. “Are you alright? I have given the withdrawal command, the ewoks are responding. They patrol this area but should not have attacked you.”
Senth nodded as he approached her. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you.”
She inclined her head. “Good. We had better get you back to the keep. The medics can look at you.”
The clone followed up the ramp. “I do not need medics. I need to speak to the Prefect.”

As soon as the shuttle landed Senth walked down the ramp. His armour was dirty and slightly battered, and the back was scorched from the backpack fire. He made a grim sight as he pulled off his helmet and carried it under his arm, walking past the curious troopers at the gate and up the stairs and down the corridor towards the Prefects office. He knocked loudly on the door. “Enter.”
The Prefect was sat behind his desk still. Malisane regarded the clone curiously as he stood to attention and saluted. “I see you have returned Delta-19.”
Senth looked back at him. He felt the increasingly familiar surge of annoyance building to anger now, but once more he fought to control it. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
A faint smile touched the Battlemaster's lips. “Granted.”
“I followed your orders Prefect, and was ambushed by the Sith ewoks. They seemed to be waiting for me.”
“And you seem to have survived Delta-19.”
Senth looked into the Sith's blue eyes. “Were there any reports of an intruder or probe Prefect?”
“No.” The reply was short and simple.
“You sent me into an ambush, sir.” Senth replied. It was no longer a question.
“Yes I did Delta-19,” Malisane replied calmly, “I sent the ewoks on nearly the same mission as yourself, to find and eliminate an intruder in the jungle, along with your route.”
“Why?” Senth demanded.
“You have no place here Delta-19,” Malisane replied, “you are an agent of the Clan Summit. And you are an anomaly. I have studied enough history. I am aware of the jedi purge, the so called Order 66. I do not know what I have stood in front of me except that it is a weapon forced on me I can neither trust nor control.”
“I am a person as much as you, Prefect,” Senth replied, still struggling against the anger.
“You are a creation,” Malisane replied, “the soldiers out there lead by Major Voss are loyal and the best in our military. They obey orders without question, but they are people. You are no more than the ewoks we created who attacked you out there. Except that when we do not need them they amuse themselves. They hunt, they dance despite our conditioning, and on a clear night you can even hear drumming and singing drifting across the jungle. But I have read the file on your creation and they did not even include that level of humanity, Delta-19.”
“You are wrong Prefect,” Senth replied coldly, “I am learning. And despite how I came into this world I am an officer in the Dlarit Special Operations Group and I am loyal to Clan Naga Sadow.” He felt his anger still but now it was becoming easier to control and focus. “I was sent here to serve you, despite them knowing you did not want me here. I did not pick this assignment and it is clear why I was the last to be assigned. However I am here now though until I am ordered otherwise. And though I have to obey your orders there is nothing in my conditioning or orders that say I have to allow myself to be killed. So do not attempt that again Prefect unless it is for Naga Sadow. As you know my training is extensive.”
Malisane studied him thoughtfully. “Very well then,” he replied, “perhaps there is more to you. I guess we will see. You are dismissed, Captain Senth.”
Senth saluted. “Yes, sir” He turned and left the office.

Inos 13
Orian Space
10 Years later

Lieutenant Colonel Senth of the Orian Warhost stood watching as the members of his Clan boarded the shuttles from the Perdition, as the wounded Pro Consul was stretchered into a medical transport. He look at the immense corpse of the Sigma Queen with a slight shudder, and then up to where more medics were reviving the survivors of his command. Perhaps half of them would not be leaving the moon alive. He sighed. So many had died over the years. He was the last of the thirty four Dlarit Advanced Commandos, created to serve their clan long ago. They had been the first batch and the last, forgotten now by all except the oldest of the Clan. His gaze moved to where two troopers supported the exhausted form of Battlelord Malisane Sadow, the familiar Sith had for years been something between an ally and annoyance to the clone. Beneath his helmet Delta-19 smiled slightly, then followed them into the last shuttle.

Placement
1st place
Member
Adept DarkHawk Sadow
File submission
Shades of the Past.pdf
Placement
3rd place