Attached is my Round 2 Fiction. Enjoy.

-W

"HAHAHAHA!" was all the rogue Jedi could do to himself as he watched all the Brotherhood searching all over Dreshdae for the lost and stolen secret writings for Immortality. He had snuck into the library and found the supposed lost relic. And here he sit, outside, in plain view, watching all the clans sneak around trying to find info on the fabled treasures. He watched intently to see who was going to be the one, the only one that he was going to make bank on.

Despite being out in the open, he was smart enough to conceal his identity and disguised himself as one of the locals. Even though he was a rogue jedi and loyal to no one, except the credits. Could he sell it to Muz Ashen and let him become immortal? Could he sell it to Lord Jac and let his crusade keep blinding him down an illogical path of death? Could he side with the One Sith and sell it to them? The last one he was against. He had been dealing with the One Sith on this planet long enough, and on other planets also. They've tried killing him for sake. What Conner couldn't figure out was why, Plagueis, the superior Clan of the the past Crusade, would even join forces with the One Sith. This was what puzzled him the most.

He continued to sip on his ale as he watched. But in an instant, he saw someone who he might have recognize. "What the krief is a Chiss doing here?" he thought to himself. He definitely wasn't expecting to see their kind. They were too cold and calculating, much less, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wondered who the Chiss was with and if maybe, perhaps some credits could be made.

As he watched intently, apparently too much, the Chiss turned towards him and made his way to his table outside the cafe. " K'ir nah rsah seo ch'atah, rcsin'ho?" (translated "Do we know each other, stranger?") Conner looked at him and replied, "Ch'ah cart morco rost'sep ch'at veb veo bun cseah s." (translated "I was just surprised to see your kind here." The Chiss then motioned to a seat nearby and Conner nod approval to him sitting. Going back to basic language, the Chiss spoke up. "Glad to see someone who can speak Cheuhn properly. Not many humans can do so."

"It was something I learned in my trade and picked up when I was in the unknown regions years ago" Conner replied. "By the way, I didn't catch your name, friend?"

"Friend you say, because you speak my language? I assumed you wish to talk since you were looking at me so intently" replied the Chiss. "If it will ease your concerns, Conner, I am Brimstone."

Conner had a look of surprise on his face at the mention of his name, sure he was concealing himself well enough. "Conner, who's that you refer to?"

"It isn't that difficult to read one's thoughts, especially when they are trying so hard to hide. Your body language and demeanor also gave it away" Brimstone replied. "And I am sure you know by now, I am a Sith, but not one of these wretched impostors that control this city."

"So you are part of the Brotherhood then I have been hearing about. Which side do you work for?" he replied, trying to figure a way to make his escape.

Brimstone motioned to the server droid, who came over and took his order for water only. "No need to figure out how to escape. If I wanted you captured or dead, I would do it in front of everyone right now. But where would that get us?" Moments later, the droid returned with his water and left. "I have my own personal reasons and affiliations, but not the one you think of" her replied as he sipped his glass.

"That is normal for your kind, Chiss" Conner retorted with sarcasm. "So you seek something for your leader, Muz, I believe his name to be, right?"

"He is our leader, for the time being, but my loyalties are to Plagueis, no other."

"So you are working with the One Sith then?" questioned the treasure hunter.

"No. While the rest of my clan has been blinded by the deception of the One Sith, I still have resentment of their teachings and beliefs. I am here to recover items that will stop this war and destroy the One Sith, once and for all."

"And what items are they?"

"Like you need to ask, which I am sure, you are well aware of, and my guess, are already in possession of or have its location known, correct?"

"Perhaps, if the price is correct."

Brimstone smiled. He knew how greed worked and how to coax it out of an individual. He then pulled out a data pad, punched in some info, and slid it over to Conner. After taking another sip, the Jedi picked up the data pad and read what was encrypted. His eyebrows perked up as he read it to himself. "Is this a serious offer?" he asked.

"It is an offer that lasts five minutes, after that it is rescinded" replied Brimstone.

Conner looked at it again. "That s definitely a lot of credits, but the second part is what intrigues me. The further training is interesting."

"I can see a lot of potential in you as an ally, as well as a fellow darksider. So what is your answer?"

"I'll accept on one term. Only you do the training, none of your Brotherhood."

"I figured you would. The credits are half payment now, and other half when the items are verified. Then I will send you encrypted files of where to meet for your training." Brimstone then stood up, nodded his head to Conner, and left,

Conner kept looking at the data pad. 'That is a lot of credits" he amused to himself.

“There, against the furthest corner of the bar, the right side.”

Colyn Skybender nodded his head towards the direction of a lone Twi’lek who was teal in complexion. Beside him in the misty and heated cantina was one of the Loyalist leaders, Galleros Sjl. The Zelosian clasped his warm hands onto an ice-cold glass of Bespian port and peered off into that direction through the fair fabric of his dark hood. The girl stared into her full glass with hollow eyes, yet her hand kept twisting and rotating the glass counter-clockwise on the bar. Her elbow propped onto the flat surface and her hand loosely curled with her calloused knuckles resting onto her cheek. Although it seemed logical to Sjl, he couldn’t fathom who would be an enemy of the slender Twi’lek. Her entire composure to him felt serene, relaxed and partial to comfort.

Skybender prodded his elbow into Sjl’s rib in order to catch his attention and the Zelosian locked eyes with a case of credits in the soldier’s hands.

“Go over there and buy her a drink.”

“But--she has one.”

Tusken, in all his years of service and time spent in military cantinas, had never met such an uninformed man. He clasped his rough hand onto his leathery chin then rubbed his mouth in disbelief. He shook his head a little and then glanced back at the Zelosian in a serious manner.

“That’s the point, you are supposed to show you care and want to know her.” Tusken whispered against Sjl’s hood.

Sjl, with the expression of a patient dog, kept his gaze at the soldier and furrowed his brow.

“What is wrong with just putting a sack on her head and knocking her out?”

“Because she might have friends in this cantina,”

“So we’ll kill them too. Have you done this before?”

Tusken planted his forehead onto the desk and grumbled to himself. If he could be stuck with anyone on a mission, the soldier would refuse to be stuck with Sjl. A swift push of his hand with the credits in, he moved Sjl from the table and slipped the credits into his open hand.

“Just buy her a drink, please? Try to act empathetic and supporting to her ‘loss’ whatever it is, understand?”

The Priest nodded slowly, still in a haze of confusion with this game, and slowly walked in the Twi’lek’s direction. As Sjl walked up to the bar, he caught the glance of other Twi’leks sitting at the tables. Their hands showing the same light teal, others with a lime colour and his eyes met with one violet Twi’lek, who gave him a deathly glare before returning to the middle-aged human she was sat on. As he walked closer to the Twi’lek who sat alone, a trio of Bothans slowly walked towards him and left a gap small enough for him to slide through. Their hips were armed with twin blasters, and their eyes gave the same ice cold glare as the Twi’leks before. Ignoring the general dislike he is receiving, Sjl eventually reaches the female Twi’lek and tosses the case of credits towards the Corellian barkeep.

“For the tab of this young Twi’lek, she can drink on me.” Her gaze slowly rotated to meet with the soft voice that it originated, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. Sjl sat next to her, then tapped the bar for the same drink as her and looked back at the Twi’lek.

“Who on this god-forsaken dust bowl are you?”

Sjl smiled softly and reached for his drink, took a sip and sighed with delight.

“A friend, good age on that. I like it. What’s your name, droopy?”

“Droopy!?” Her nostrils began to flare as her grip tightened on the glass, her glare not leaving the Zelosian’s direction.

“I was expecting something Kat’lek, but I guess Droopy is nice too.”

The Twi’lek decided he was not worth her fury and slouched over the bar once more, this time she placed both of her hands over the glass.

“Rhiaen, and yours?”

“Call me Gal, everyone else does.” Sjl smirked softly at Rhiaen, then sipped the drink and looked back over to Tusken who waited in anticipation.

“Why does everyone call you Gal?” Her vision returned to her glass as her hollow gaze once again returned.

“It’s shortened from my original name, obivously. Distracted, are we?”

She gave a sigh and slowly traced her thin index finger across the rim of the glass.

“I’m starting to question whether this was all worth it.”

“Explain, Rhiaen.”

She gave the cantina a good assessment and observation, then quickly stood from her stool. To which, Sjl quickly followed suit.

“Not here, open ears. I can show you round the back.”

Sjl nodded in confirmation and Rhiaen led him out. Shortly before he left, Sjl nodded towards Tusken who promptly stood and slowly tracked them out. The Twi’lek softly trotted around the side and into the alley shaded by sun covers which were spread with sand and cuts from stones. The boxes and crates here were filled with empty glass bottles, broken glass and other pieces of fabric. Once closer to the alley exit, Sjl saw an open courtyard that was shaded by the cantina itself. Rhiaen began a commentary.

“All the despair, the tragedy, and sorrow that I have seen since flying here. I’m starting to question myself; was it worth the sacrifice. Was she really worth losing, just for this?”

Rhiaen turned the corner and pulled Sjl close, and in her hand she held a piece of a stone tablet. Etched into the rock were the ancient Sith writings that the Priest came to this planet for, yet only half of it.

“It’s not complete.”

She sighed softly and placed the tablet into his untrustworthy hands, then rubbed her tearing eyes.

“Because they wanted the full deal, both of our lives.”

“Was there another way?”

Her stare slowly lifted to meet with his, and a small smile crept across her face with intention. Sjl could see her hand slowly crept towards her waist, presumably where her lightsaber was kept.

“Unfortunately, there is.”

As the Zelosian stepped back in small panic to avoid her entirely, a small click and cock sound sharply leapt from behind Rhiaen’s head. It was Colyn, standing with his strong right hand firmly onto his blaster. His sharp, grey glare never left her as he pressed the blaster closer to her skull.

“Sorry gal, you won’t be leaving this area with his body. Or the writing.”

She tried to scream, but her shriek was only muffled by the quick blaster bolts that destroyed her head and dissolved her lekkus. Tusken edged over the Twi’lek body and rubbed the back of his neck slowly, then looked directly at Sjl’s eyes.

“You are completely useless with women, aren’t you?”

“She wasn’t interesting.” They both chuckled as Tusken grabbed the writings and slipped them into his duffle bag. Then the two of them left down the alley they Colyn came from, quite satisfied with this result.

This was not right, I am Jedi, I should know better. Anger is something that I've learned to never let control me. But it was extremely difficult at the moment. I have felt anger before, it was part of my training. To recognize what it was and it’s allure to the dark side, something I’d want to watch out for. This was beginning to feel right and it was scaring me, but I was having trouble controlling it. My trip in to Dreshdae was frustrating, I tried to meditate to clear my thoughts and calm myself. That was proving difficult as every time that I closed my eyes and started to focus, my mind would drift back to the death of my sister. That would cause my anger to well up at Darth Necren and that Nephilim. After arriving at the small landing port just outside town, I had made my way into town to begin my search for Connor Grey, a rogue, arms dealer, relic hunter, and a liar and cheat. Though while he was not responsible for the death of my sister, he was the catalyst that lead to her death.
Having been in town before on numerous occasions, I decided to don an inconspicuous outfit. I call them my I-don’t-want-to-be-recognized clothes. The consisted of a pair of rugged brown pants with extra pockets added to the thighs to keep my lightsaber in. A button up blue long-sleeved shirt that I leave untucked. A simple black vest with only the bottom button fastened. I had decided to start with The Drunk Side, the local cantina that had survived for a few centuries, numerous owners, and several wars. This place was the place to learn anything about what is going on. If I knew Connor at all, he would be here learning what he could about any new relics that might have been uncovered in recent days. The road from the landing pads to the cantina was once an empty road with a few signs hanging. Now it seems that every buildings doorway had a sign above it, selling something. Between every other doorway there had popped up an outdoor stand that was selling souvenirs and replica relics of all kinds. Normally, there would be few to a couple dozen beings along this street visiting the shops and making deals of one kind or another. Now there seemed like there was hundreds crammed onto this street, buying, selling, making deals or just looking at the various wares.
Knowing that there will be dark jedi or all kinds, and maybe a Jedi or two, I decided to put up my Force Cloak to hide my presence to a degree to move about unnoticed. As I tried to focus to apply the Force Cloak, I felt blocked and couldn't focus completely. It felt just like the trip in, where it was difficult to meditate, and my anger would well up at the thought of Necren or the Nephilim. But even a partial Force Cloak was better than nothing. I was about to the cantina when I saw him coming out, because of his unique look, he is fairly easy to spot or follow. I continue walking past him and the cantina as though I’m going to a shop on the other side. I walk past him as he’s lighting another cigarette, and anger surges through me that my Force Cloak works a little too well and I bump into someone who should have been able to easily avoid me, had he seen me. Surprised at the action, my grasp of the Force faltered and my Force Cloak dropped, the person that I had bumped into had already recovered and was on his way. Not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, I acted like nothing was out of the ordinary and continued on my way away from Connor, hoping that he didn't see what had happened.
I had walked about two buildings from the cantina, stopping to lean against a wall to recover from that near ordeal. Taking a few breaths, I tried to calm myself to degree, and thought on the events that had happened, and realized that if I didn't get a handle on my anger then this would not go as planned. Finally getting myself somewhat calmed, I managed to get my Force Cloak up again, and turned back in the direction that Connor had gone. Walking past the cantina again, I get a strong danger sense. I take a quick look around to see if I could identify it, but don’t readily see anything that would give me pause. About three buildings further up, I see him coming out of the next building across the street so I slow down to stay behind him and see what he was doing. I continue to shadow him for another two buildings, while he was looking over the merchandise of an outside vendor, when I had that same danger sense I had back at the cantina, but this time it was stronger and somewhat focused. Feeling panicked, but not wanting to reveal myself, I casually scan the area to see if any being was paying extra attention in my direction.
That is when I saw him, the Nephilim, his armor very distinctive against the normal attire of those around him. He had his helmet off, for reasons only known to him, never seen one without their helmet on. A hard gaze from a seemingly harder face, leering at those nearest him. He probably forgot that everyone could see his face, as people quickly averted their eyes and gave him as much of a wide berth that they could on this semi-crowded street. I quickly scan the beings around him to see if Necren was in the area as well. And she was, turning out of a doorway to look over some relic merchandise for sale. Knowing that if I let myself panic while my anger seemed to be building, I would not be able to maintain my Force Cloak, and send up a nice big flare. Looking back at Connor, I see that he was still perusing at a relic stand. Either he was oblivious to Necren and the Nephilim or he knew they were there and didn't want to let on. Probably the latter as he was like that, seeming like he had no idea, but knowing all along. Realizing that time was now of the essence, I was going to have to hurry things along, and I hate rushing things, takes a lot of the fun out of it.
Trying to figure out how to get him someplace a little private so I could employ a little seduction to get information on the whereabouts of the actual writings. I see my opportunity when he moved on from the relic stand and entered the next building down. Taking a breath and putting on a smile, I follow him into the building, dropping the Force Cloak in the process, no need to alarm him just yet. “Connor my sweet, where have you been, I've been looking for you all over.” I say to him as I come up behind him, wrapping my arms around his chest, giving a slightly intimate hug. He had tensed when I hugged him, but was relaxing now that he had heard my voice. I could feel his excitement at me arrival, he always did like to see who could outdo the other whenever we all got together. I release him from my embrace when I feel him start to turn around.
“Well, hello,” he stammers when he sees that I am dressed in the complete opposite of my normal attire. He takes a moment to look me over, so I give him a little flirtatious pose. “That ‘s a new look for you, I like it.” He comments with a smile. “Gives you that adventurous look.” I always like to see him smile, but this time there was something missing, something off about him that I couldn't place. His cigarette, he wasn't smoking one at the moment, he must have tossed it just before entering. Looking over my head towards the door, he asks, “Where is your sister, didn't think the two of you strayed too far from each other?”
Killed at the hand of Necren! My thoughts screamed, betraying me at a most inconvenient time. I must have lost it for a moment, because the next thing I remember is hearing nearby objects settling back in place and Connor looking at me with a very concerned face. Anxiety and concern radiated from him through the Force, and I could feel that he had created a Barrier for some reason. “What happened?” he asked, his tone that of worried concern. “Something bad happened didn't it? Your whole Force presence has changed, it almost seems as if…” He looks me straight in the eyes as if he was looking for something. I can feel him probing me with the Force, and I’m able to block him at first, but my emotions and focus are unstable and all over the place, and he is able to break past them with ease. “Tell me what happened.”
Taking a deep breath to keep myself from losing control, I recap the story of this dreadful day. “We had heard that Lord Cotelin was seeking ancient writings on the Rite of Immortality. We thought that if we were able to attain these writings, we would gain favor with him. So we came here to learn the whereabouts of these writings, or who might have them. Nalia set up in the cantina while I donned these clothes and started making discreet inquiries into any information on the writings. We had spent about half a day listening and asking questions, Nalia learned that there had been one that had returned from the Valley of the Dark Lords with the writings and was seeking to sell them to whoever wants them the most. I had learned that there was a blonde male in a brown coat that was making inquiries if there were any beings that might be interested in the writings if they were found. We gathered that this person might be you, and that when we came to you earlier asking after the writings. You insinuated that you had them, then led us to believe that someone else had them, leaving us confused and certain that they had been found and were in town somewhere. Assuming that you had them and was looking to sell them to one of the three sides in the civil war that had currently gripped the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. We had heard that there was a strong ally of Lord Cotelin located at the old Academy, we sought them out to give what we had learned in exchange for returning to the fold.” The entire time that I was telling the story, I could feel my anger and hatred rising to the surface. Connors expression never once changed, but I could feel surprise, concern, and interest in me as I continued to talk. “What we got was captured by a Nephilim, and brought before Darth Necren. Nalia was knocked unconscious from a butt-stroke to the back of the head, then beheaded by Necren, as I was being dragged out of the Academy and ordered to find the writings or suffer the same fate as my sister. I need those writings, Connor, please tell me you have them or know who does.” I pleaded to Connor, intense sadness threatening to overwhelm me.
When I had finished, his expression changed to one of concern. “I’m sorry my dear, but that was what I've been doing since I returned from the Valley earlier. I was at the Tomb of Marka Ragnos, where a lot of ancient runes and writings could be found, but I did not have the knowledge to read or understand them. Plus there were three Krath Pontifices and a small group from Clan Naga Sadow there guarding them, and they wouldn't let me take anything. So when I arrived back in town, I heard that someone claiming to be me was spreading word around that I had the writings and was looking to sell them to one of the civil war factions. I've been trying to find this person and working to repair any damage he has done in my name.” He concluded, his face taking on a very dark tone when he inferred that someone could have had the audacity to impersonate him and ruin his image.
I didn't know that one’s heart could be crushed further than from losing a twin who had been murdered in front of you. It felt as though my whole world was falling apart. All I had now was my love and affection for my friends, and my anger and hatred for Darth Necren and that Nephilim. I was not going to allow A’lora and Liam to meet the same fate as Nalia. Even if that meant falling to the dark side. I knew that I only had two choices in the matter. To stay and continue to search for the possible non-existent writings and run the risk of incurring the wrath of Necren and endangering myself and my friends. Or escaping, warning A’lora and Liam of Nalia’s fate and the threat by Darth Necren, and getting stronger to take down Necren for what she did to my sister. Only the later made sense, disappearing and plotting my revenge. I was certain that I could get A’lora and Liam to help me. Yes, I am starting to see the beginnings of a beautiful scheme to bring down the Nephilim and Darth Necren for killing my sister.
Looking up at Connor, who looked taken aback at what probably seemed like a drastic change in my demeanor and Force presence, I raised up on my toes and kissed him on his right cheek. “Thank you love, there’s something that I must do now. Undeniably we will meet again, until then my sweet.” I say to him, then turn and give him a very flirtatious wave goodbye. Feeling more confident with each step, I give Connor one last parting gift, I use my new found confidence to add a little sway to my hips as I saunter through the door. Just before I pass out of earshot I hear Connor intone, “The power of the dark side……”, and I was out in the street and couldn't hear what else he might have said. Putting up a Force Cloak, I looked to my left to see if Necren or the Nephilim were still there, I don’t see Necren, but I find the Nephilim leaning up against a building a couple of buildings down on the other side of the street. He must have seen my enter and decided, or was told, to remain and see if I would do as I was told. Boy, was he going to be disappointed, as I warmly smile at him and step out and meld into the flow of the crowd, headed towards the landing pads.

I hope .doc will work.

-SW Omega Kira

Korriban Desert Outskirts

Connar Grey stood in the harsh light of this desert place, knowing full well that his task was simply to make money in this situation. He allowed his fingers to gently run threw the blond hair keeping it dysfunctional at all times was something that made him easily recognizable to others. As he allowed his hand to reach into his coat, his eyes scanned the scene in front of him, he played in the shadows only hunting for things of value, and something had come up that rivaled any of his other hits that he had made. As his hand came out the cigarette instantly reached his lips, as he allowed the tip to light, filling his lungs with the smoke.

“Have we had any report from the scouts that went in earlier?” His voice cold and cool as he allowed his voice to echo to the troops beside him.

“They have encountered some form of issue on this sir, it seems that the fighting was a lot harder than we had first anticipated” the armoured commandos voice was clear and direct to the point as he spoke to Connar.

“Good, keep me updated on the progress, I want to make sure that everything goes according to plan, nothing is going to be allowed to slip out of line” his voice showing his authority on this matter with ease.

As the sand whipped past it was clear that he would be waiting a while for his answer, the team was not hurrying back and he would not expect them to either. Knowing full well that he had to give them time, the information had to be perfect and anything less would have been considered unacceptable.

Inside the Ruined Temple

“MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!” Shouting through the voice comms the Sergeant watched his men scuttle to covered as the blaster fire ricochet from the walls direct towards the squad.

Grabbing what little protection the old ruins could offer them, the mercenaries were well trained and prepared for engaging in close quarters combat, it was clear from the way they reacted being shot at was usual in their books. Spinning into the columns there backs slamming to the stone, the armour clanking as they did so. Using the cover they returned fire quickly and efficiently aiming to dismantle the group of Dark Jedi Troops that had come against them. It didn’t matter what faction they belonged to as long as they had profit that is all that mattered to the squad of five.

“Pin them in place, we have almost finished the scan of this hell hole, we need that information for Connar or he will be pretty pissed at us” the Sergeant's orders was clear, the scan would be completed when it was all they had to do until then was survive.

Reaching his torso he allowed his hand to unclip the grenade with ease, throwing the ball down the corridors with ease. Hearing the bleeping noise before it finally managed to detonate with ease disintegrating the enemies within the corridor, leaving nothing but blood splatter on the walls of the dull cream coloured bricks.

“Sir scan is done, it seems its down the corridor, the item is here seems that Grey was once more correct” the troopers helmet turned to the Sergeant as he allowed himself to watch the commanding officer nod as he lead his scouting party into the corridor. Moving quickly the team allowed themselves to follow the scan, as they entered the room it was clear that they had failed to be the first team to claim it the ignition of saber blades had signaled the squad had made a huge error.

Korriban Desert Outskirts

Corran had his squad on high alert all time, it had been hours that had passed by and no information or update had been given to the man, his mission was still a go since the moment they laid down on the planet. As he allowed his hands to rest into his pants pockets his eyes watched all of the surroundings, always on alert and with the sound of war only yards away it would have been foolish of them not to be ready.

“Sir, we have incoming one of our own, trooper, standard armour, matches data” the trooper allowed his rifle to become slumped into his shoulder as he tracked the movements of the man, stumbling in the sand as he clutched as his stomach. Trying his best to get back to the group, it was clear that the information he had was of a very important value, what that value was would be soon told to Connar.

“Report, Trooper” Grey’s voice reached out as the trooper made the group, slumping to one knee, clearly in pain and unable to control his body easily. His helmet glanced up to Connar Grey as he allowed his breath to calm down before he tried to speak towards the man in charge of the mission.

“Sir, we found the item….but we were to late, it has been held by Dark Jedi” his voice quivered the sheet pain that ran threw his body unable to hold himself at ease. It was only a split second, Grey let his hand slide into the jacket, the gun coming out and planting the shot in the mask of the trooper, dropping him instantly for the information.

“Commander, send the rest of the men in, I want that artifact for us, I want it at all costs am I clear?” Greys voice was obvious he meant business as the surge of troops was huge, each of them moving into the sand with ease, it was clear that another army was joining the fight. The well equipped mercenaries were on a mission that they would see completed with as little problems as possible. It was now up to them to take back the artifact that they needed, to even see some form of pay.

By Cethgus Tiberius Entar Arconae
6705

Dreshdae
Town outskirts
Just after dusk

Pain throbbed in Skars side as he walked down the semi crowded streets he cursed his reckless behavior at the academy and now his pian served to teach him his lesson, he was grateful for being saved that day his pain had made him delusional and he had said things that he didn't mean.

After he had woken back up from a coma that had thankfully only lasted a few days Turel had thought it would good for him to be sent on a easyer mission away from the heavy conflict that still raged in the Valley of the dark lords

A ery calm had settled on the town soon after he had arrived and every inquiry to the stolen texts he had been sent to find had only lead to dead ends and dead corpses that were found hours later.

His patients was growing very thin after the third day and by the forth it was gone altogether there was no way that the text were still in town at this point and even if they were they would be under heavy guard, Growling to himself he continued down the street and made a sudden turn down a side street

He had only seen his newis target in passing but something told him to track him down and see what he knew. The man sent had been heavily masked but the stench of the town and his inhabitants. Curving around another corner Rrogon stopped abruptly and backpedaled until he could only just pear around the corner and see his target

The mans wavy and startling blond hair moved with the wind as he covered with some alien the Skar could not place as the young kaleesh thought about what he could do a cowld of smoke came from the rouge jedis lips and with a flick of his wrist the cigar was discarded and the jedi moved away from the alien and down the alleyway.

Not letting the opportunity pass Rrogon made his way past the alien and followed closely behind the man but when he rounded the next connor the man was gone. Shifting his vision around the narrow alley Rrogon found the man raped him the force with something in both of his hands.

Skars body moved before the first shot should be fired and he was already sprinting down the alleyway his own emerald lightsaber hissing to life just as Grays did, turning away two more slug rounds Rrogon crashed into the jedi with a triebel force that knocked the mans lightsaber from his grasp.

The next several minutes devolved into ferruso hand to hand combat that leaned into skars favor and with a mighty rawr and a flick of his wright Grays arm was cut clean off at the shoulder raken his claws arose the mans chest sent him sprawling to the ground in a spray of crimson blood that plastered over Rrogon. Gray tried to crawl away but Skar quickly caught up with him and dragged him by the throat.

“Where are the stih texts that you stole from the academy.”

“In my robes at your mothers house you fracking lizard

Rrogons rage flared and his talons dug deep into the flesh that was the man througt and blood began to flow freely and steadily like thick syrup turning the man over Rrogon began to sift through the robes of the dying man and finally he found the text that he had been searching for.

Smiling to himself he slipped the scroll into his robes and set off out of the town before the locals could find his newest kill he could barely contain his glee as the deserts wind whipped around him the mans fresh blood dripping onto the sand as the kaleesh set off thrword the nearby Arcona fob.

After hours of walking he had finally made his way onto the bass and made his way to the command center where he found Turel and Cethegus leaning over a table full of old maps moving pieces on clay the repainted there troops and others around the table.

Finally bringing the scroll from his robes Rrogon flung it onto the table and without another word turned to leave the room so that he could grab a cold shower before heading off into the flames of battle once again. A few hours later Rrogon was sitting in a shuttle the sped him to his next mission near the on of the long dead Sith tombs

“Bored!” the Twi’lek woman practically yelled, interrupting the hologram as it stated her mission. She pulled her hands down her face, stretching the skin on her cheeks and squishing her lips together. She rolled her eyes towards the figured and waited. Despite her stunning features, the face she made was hideous.

“I will be alerting the rest of the fleet,” Marick said when the Twi’lek took a breath. “Your Quaestor will be sending your orders to your PDA. As this mission is of utmost-.”

“-Oh. My. Goddess!” K’tana erupted,staring between her fingers at him before walking around the communicator, flailing her arms and lekku about. “Can you make everything sound so karking boring?! Is this your super Force talent? Boring the frang off people!”

The holo-comm went dark and K’tana burst into laughter.

“M-mistress?” the wide eyed face of a Loyalist Guard stared down at the Tyrian woman.

“Oh come on!” she rolled her head back and around to stretch her neck and exaggerate her words. “Don’t tell me that he didn't bore you? He’s so blegh and monotone. I swear his face would crack if he accidentally smiled.”

“Ma’am, I don’t feel comfortable discussing the Shadow Lord in this way,” the man murmured anxiously, glancing around as though expecting the mentioned male to emerge from the shadows at any moment. K’tana looked at him and laughed.

“Oooh! The scary Lord Marick! Don’t say bad things! He may be listening!” she laughed louder as the Guard dropped his gaze and fumbled with his bracer.

“I’m just a guard Mistress K’tana; I’m sure you’d know better than I.”

“Are you just going to agree with everything I say?” K’tana snarled slightly, her lip curling in disdain. The man stopped walking and looked around.

The exit of the ship was open and the Human and Twi’lek stared at each other. The Twi’lek’s lekku twitched sporadically as she waited for his answer. He looked down as he snapped his feet together and brought his fist up to his heart.

“Sorry Ma’am. No Ma’am.” he said, looking straight ahead and not looking at her. She scowled, huffed and muttered something as she walked off the ramp towards where the two speeders were parked and waiting for them.

He suddenly realized why Quaestor Cethgus had said escorting the Twi’lek Knight was his punishment.

-----

Sergeant Jessik Draedan, a member of the Loyalist Guard who, not a fortnight previous, had been given command of his first squad. His mission was relatively easy. His squad, however, was slaughtered due to a selfish and self preserving choice he had made for them in order to save himself. The mission was accomplished, but not before all of his men were dead. The Master Sergeant reported his immense failing to the Brotherhood and Sergeant Draedan was called before the Quaestor of Galeres to explain himself.

Draedan had tried his best to get out of any possible punishment and, before the Primarch could give a sentencing, a holocomm flashed on the Zabraks desk, insisting its urgency. A Twi’lek, scantily clad and tossing a dagger about began flippantly telling the Quaestor that she had her orders; she didn't like them and she wanted someone else to go in her place. As she spoke, a Kowakian monkey-lizard leapt on her back and started biting at her lekku. The Twi’lek snapped at the Quaestor, angry that her pet had to be left behind.

Draedan had never seen such an obnoxious display of disregard for rank, lack of discipline and utter disrespect. The Primarch, however, eyes beginning to burn, had simply flipped the switch and shut the comm off. He stared at the device on his desk, took a deep breath and gave the Rattataki his punishment.

“For your insubordination and the failing of your squad, you are sentenced to serve and look after the Arconan Knight, K’tana. You will keep her on track, make sure she accomplishes her task, and keep her alive. Then you will report to me directly. Now, get out of my sight,” the Primarch’s words dropped low at the end, his deep baritone voice resonating from his chest as he scowled once again at the holo-comm. Draedan left promptly, believing he got off easily.

-----

Draedan ran his hand over his shaved head, staring at the back of the silent, violet woman. He watched her lekku trail behind her as she drove the speeder towards the city. Occasionally, the Twi’lek would drive in ‘S’ shaped patterns and smiled as she swayed in the seat. Draedan drove straight and caught up to the Knight who giving him a quick smirk, gently rammed her speeder into his own.

“C’mon!” she yelled, smiling over at the Rattataki. “Lets race!”

“Ma’am,” Draedan cocked his head, but kept his eyes forward “I don’t think that’s a safe, or intelligent idea.”

“Then consider it an order whitey!” a scowl played across K’tana’s mouth as she rammed her speeder into Draedan’s more forcefully than the first time. She laughed as she sped across the sand, her lekku flying behind her like streamers. Draeden, thinking this was a foolish idea, sped after her, if only to make sure she stayed safe. Her lilting laughter traveled behind her as the vehicle flew over a hill and came slamming down, nearly into the sand , just picking up speed before flying over another sand hill. Draedan found himself smiling as he raced behind her. The Knight was a decent driver, but he was more experienced and he soon found himself laughing as he caught up and rammed her, knocking the bike sideways. K’tana laughed as she grit her teeth and steered further away. She looked over at the other Sergeant and a devious smile played across her face.

“Hey pretty boy!” the Twi’lek called, taking one hand off the handles, sliding her other hand to the middle of the bar to keep her speeder going straight. Her hand slid under her shirt and Draeden let out a gasp as his bike suddenly dropped down a sudden embankment. He’d stared too long at the woman, not paying attention to where he was driving and ended up doing a nose dive into a dip in the sandy terrain. He heard her laughter as he came up the other side, both hands back on the handles of her speeder.

“Pay attention to the road little man!” she giggled as they came closer to the outlying area of Dreshdae and had to slow their pace. Draeden couldn’t take the smile off his face as they pulled into the docking area of the city, but when he looked back over at the Twi’lek her face had drawn a blank and it seemed as though nothing had happened.

As they parked and stepped off their speeders Draedan, knowing the city had been taken by the One Sith, expected K’tana to place the cowl of her shirt over her head to help hide her face, but instead she removed the top layer of the shirt, revealing something akin to a dancer's outfit. He’d wondered why she wore a straped skirt in the CIC of the ship. Looking at her now he still didn't understand how she thought that she’d would be hiding herself in such garb.

“Ma’am, aren't we suppose to be inconspicuous?” he said walking over to her and giving her an obvious once over. She stretched her neck, looked up into his pale eyes and lifted her eyebrow.

“You think being a Twi’lek slave girl is too obvious? That the One Sith give a single, flying kark about the property of a wealthy looking Rattataki man?” she waited in silence as he thought it over. He didn't feel dressed well enough for the part.

“I understand why people may make the mistake with you, but no one will think my part in this is accurate. I look like a slob.” Draedan looked down at his white skin covered by thick, coarse cloth. The Twi’lek’s green eyes glowed as she gave a quick smirk and pulled a large parcel out of the holder on her speeder and handed it to him. As his hand brushed hers, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into an opened ship bay.

“Strip.” she commanded as she held him down with her gaze. Draedan was officially uncomfortable, but saw that there was no one else watching. He pulled off his garments and K’tana unfolded silky, flowing clothing from the parcel she’d taken off the speeder. Inside was a long, thin gold chain attached to a series of metal strips and clasps. He dressed in the rich fabric she’d given him and watched as she attached the chain outfit over her shoulders, chest and navel. The final pieces of gold metal attached to her neck and two silver-emerald bands attached to her lekku, strapping them behind her head.

She pulled one last long chain from her cleavage and attached it to a clasp on the front of the neck piece. She extended her hand and indicated she wanted his arm, which he raised for her. Taking his hand, she lay the gold chain over his wrist, clasping it just tight enough so the leash wouldn't slide off.

“Karking hell woman. You went all out for this.” he said laughing. He looked down at her face and abruptly stopped laughing. She had a dark and haunted look in her eyes as she lifted her head and straightened her back.

“I spent a lot of money on this get-up, your acting better not falter.”

“I’ll be fine, girl.” he said pulling her behind him as he walked out of the ship bay. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

He glanced behind to see her following with her head down and looking at her feet as she walked.

“I think I know how to be a slave, Sir.” the Twi’lek said with a wisp of a cynical grin playing the corners of her mouth. He lifted his chin as he walked through the city. Knowing the plan as well and K’tana he never had to look back. They walked to the Swoop Center and decided to place a small bet, intentionally picking an underdog and losing. The amount of credits they’d been supplied had not been intended for this kind of use, but K’tana had a plan.

Draedan was to lose until he couldn't lose anymore, then sell her to make up for the losses. Although he’d initially argued against such a dangerous idea, K’tana had scowled him into submission. He wasn’t sure how much he would be able to get for a Twi’lek slave, but seeing her in what she had on, made him think their plan would work out, perhaps more in his favor.

He looked behind him to see the Knight looking around around from the corners of her eyes. He turned to her, lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.

“Looking for something girl?” he asked, his pitch sounding annoyed, but he almost grinned as he saw a quick flash of something dark ignite in the Twi’leks’ eyes.

“Sorry Mi’Lord” she said quietly looking back at the floor.

“Quite an angry lil’freen ya got there.” a voice came from behind them. K’tana twitched and her lip curled slightly in contempt. Draedan looked up and saw the smirk of a brown eyed, ruggedly handsome Human with a smoke in his lips. His hand came up and he ran his fingertips over K’tana’s lekku as his smirk became a grin. The rage K’tana extrude was so thick Draedan thought he could feel it in the air around her as her grabbed the Human’s hand and knocked it away from the Twi’lek.

“Do I know you?” Draedan challenged.

“I’m so sorry good Sir!” the Human dropped in a dramatic bow, and flourished his arm when he came back up. He gave a quick wink to K’tana as she slowly turned around, keeping her head down, but her eyes were on him. “My name is Connor Grey.”

“Greetings, Mr.Grey. I’m-”

“I know who you are former Sergeant Draedan.” Connor said quietly with a smirk. “Perhaps we should go to my ship and talk. I have a task that your...pet... could help me with.”

As Connor led them back to the docking bay, K’tana took Draedan’s hand and pulled him to her.

“Do not trust this man,” she said whispering into the Rattataki’s ear and keeping her eyes on Connor’s back. “he’s a former Jedi and possibly the biggest piece of frazlat I’ve met. He will betray us.”

Walking in front the two of the Loyalists, Conner smiled as he led them to the docking bay. He’d been hoping he’d run into someone from the Brotherhood, although he was hardly expecting it to be the Twi’lek he’d encountered at the Sith Academy less than a week prior. He knew she was surprised to see him since last she saw he’d been taken into the custody of the Dark Brotherhood’s Loyalist Guards and probably assumed that one of her Clansmen was in the process of torturing information out of him. Too bad she’d not been told that he’d managed to pay off a guard who helped him escape.

Loyalists. What a joke.

He spun quickly to see the two of them, looking suspicious, with the Tyrian womans lips against the Rattataki’s ear.

“Hey now!” he said with a smirk “I know you're excited to get in another man’s pants, but I’m right here darlin’. You can at least wait until we get to my ship.”

The Twi’lek reacted differently in costume. Instead of scowling at Connor, she dropped her gaze to the ground and allowed the other man to defend her.

“That’s enough.” Draedan growled, “The less you talk, the faster we get there and the sooner you can tell us what you want and we can be rid of you.”

“Oh you just keep it in your pants, she likes me better anyways.” Connor gave K’tana a meaningful smirk and tilted his head. “You’ll see.”

Draedan saw K’tana’s clenched jaw hold firm as they walked behind Connor into the docking bay of his Baudo yacht the Rogue Jedi ushered them into with a cocky grin splattering his face. Draedan walked in first, K’tana followed and Connor took the moment to grab the Twi’lek and pull her back slightly.

“It’s nice to see ya again, girly’. Think we’ll have time to do some…” Connor winked, a dark look gleaming in his brown eyes, “catching up?”

The Twi’lek, not usually known for her violent outbursts slowly lifted her arm, and made to stroke her bonded lekku as she giggled, then slammed her elbow forward into Connors face. A sickening crunch and a loud gasp was heard as Connor pitched forward with a gush of blood coming from his mouth.

“You whore!” he screamed as he spat out a tooth. The Dark Jedi grabbed a fistful of his hair, Rage empowering her body as she slammed the Human into the wall of the hull.

“Whores get paid more and aren’t nearly as good at this job.” she said in an even voice as she drove her fist into Connor’s throat. His eyes bulged as he collapsed forward a heavy wheeze came from his lungs as he choked to catch his breath, but the windpipe was damaged and his lung burned badly before his head began to spin from the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t pass out on me yet boy, “the Twi’lek growled as she drove her fingers under his chin and lifted his head, slamming him back into the wall, but at the same time helping him breath by opening up the damaged windpipe by tilting his head back. She pried into his mind, knowing he’d not be able to speak aloud.

“Tell me what you wanted and I’ll save your pathetic life. You have one chance. I can continue my mission without knowing what you have to say. You should know that I’d rather kill you.”

“I know where the Rite is, I can’t take you there if I’m dead.” Connor even in pain could somehow even make his thoughts sound arrogant. Draedan stood looking at the two Force users locked in what looked like stalemate and he didn’t move. He felt at any moment that the tension would snap and someone would die. He had no idea what was happening in the moment of silence and the Twi’leks’ back was to him. Her lekku occasionally vibrated in their shackles.

“Fine.” the Twi’lek spoke from a distant place inside herself and her voice sounded cold and even the Loyalist Guard got a chill. Connor’s brown eyes glinted once, but the second before he ejected the Twi’lek away from him, she sent a Shock through his jaw as she squeezed her hand around his throat. His open mouth shot sparks due to the dental work and trails of blood oozed from his eyes. When his eyes began to bubble before bursting from his head, K’tana let go of the corpse and collapsed to the floor.

“Karking frazlat.” she cursed before she blacked out.

Draedan stood against the other wall, unmoving, and forgetting to breathe. When he finally took in a gasp of breath, he went to kneel beside the unconscious woman, and patted her cheek softly.

“Miss?” he said softly, his white, warm hand against her deep purple cool flesh made him think that maybe she had overdone it to the point of near death. He placed his hand, flat against her lekku and pat her until her eyelids began to flutter. Her green eyes locked on his and she struggled to sit up, Draedan helped her slowly get to her feet.

“Are you alright?” the Rattataki asked, his pale eyes wide with concern and confusion.

“Yes I’m fine.” the Twi’lek said pulling his hand off her shoulder and giving him a cool look. “I just need to rest. We can stay here for a few hours then I know where we need to go. Connor practically yelled the location of the Rite when I gave him that little tickle.”

A grin spread over her face, then she wobbled and Draedan put his hand out to catch her. She knocked it away and used the wall to stabilize herself as she walked to the dorm area.

“See if you can find a map, I’m going to lay down.” Draedan brought his fist to his heart and watched her make her way down the hallway as she pulled chains off of her and unclasped her lekku from the collar. As she disappeared around the corner into the Captain’s room, Draedan walked to the cockpit and began accessing the star charts and navigation system.

Less than two hours went by before Draedan nearly jumped out of his skin as hingers touched the back of his neck. He spun around, blaster at the ready and the Tyrian Twi’lek stood there, with a large grin.

“Boo.” K’tana said softly as she smiled with one side of her mouth. Draedan’s pale eyes took her in, shook his head and lifted his arm, indicating for her to come closer.

“He had this whole city in the navigation computer.” the Rattataki frowned, his dark brows creasing together in a frown. “This one area is marked off as ‘area of interest. I’m guessing we start here.”

K’tana looked over his shoulder and nodded.

“That’ll get us into the Black Market. Grab anything that you may need, I’ll go put the chains back on. We’re going to need this to play out just right if we’re dealing with traders. No one likes esoteric rites as much as they love slave girls.” She grinned as she spun on her heels and went back into the Captains room to get her things together.

Draedan walked over to the Human’s corpse and grabbed Connors .48 and holster. The left the ship together in full costume with Draedan leading the way. They were quiet until they reached the Black Market and night was beginning to take hold of the sky. The deep pink sky reflected on the Twi’lek’s violet skin, causing her to shine a magenta in the hot remnants of the sun.

They watched several other men and women lead slaves of all races towards a central building among tents and merchant booths. Draedan leaned over and poured his homeworld accent into his speech as he caught the eye of a lovely Zeltron woman leading two of her own race towards the larger building.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” he asked graciously, “But do you know where I can take this wretched creature to be sold? I’m new here and someone practically gave me this useless welp. I can’t stand to even look at her anymore.”

The green haired Zeltron looked behind him to the Twi’lek, who was scowling angrily at the back of her Rattataki Masters head.

“Well, she’s lovely enough, what happened that you feel the need to get rid of her?” the green haired woman eye’d Draedan suspiciously, but he’d been waiting for this question.

“I was told she was picked up from a planet where she had been claiming to be some kind of Royalty. Not sure what made her think her kind even have a hierarchy but she, It turns out, has the attitude to go along with the claim. She’s spiteful and she talks back. It’s horrible.”

“I didn’t lie. I am the High Priestess of the Blen clan. No one is closer to Kika’lekki then I!” K’tana said proudly, sticking her chin in the air.

“No, girl, you are a slave.” Draedan said as he backhanded her. A whine escaped the Twi’lek’s lips and when Draedan returned his gaze to the Zeltron, she was scowling fiercely at K’tana.

“I’m Ter’ra, and it just so happens I know exactly where this girl needs to be taken.” Ter’ra pointed out a building and explained that it was a Slave Training facility, where new slaves were to be taken and broken. Draedan prodded gently about the owner and being who ran the joint, being told that he was a Zygerrian lord who’d made a deal with the One Sith to run the slaving faction on Korriban.

Ter’ra also mentioned that the Lord had an insatiable lust for collecting “Dark Magics”.

As the Zeltron departed, Draedan tugged K’tana behind him and made for the Training Facility.

“There’s a good chance that we’re going to track this Rite to this slaver Lord sooner or later.” Draedan caught K’tana smiled softly, something that said she knew more than she was telling him.

‘Is there something I should know?” the Rattataki asked coolly.

“Not just yet.” the Twi’lek responded just as coldly as she was asked. Draedan grew suspicious but said nothing. As they approached the building, K’tana occasionally pulled back on the leash, seeming to put up a slight fight. Draedan turned the tables and walked behind her, gripping one of her lekku and pushing her along. No one asked who they were or what they were doing, instead they were ushered into a large waiting area filled with different species.

Draedan caught K’tana staring, wide-eyed, at a Lethan Twi’lek dragging two males in shrouds. K’tana stared until the woman turned towards her, then her face dropped and an unreadable blank look settled upon the Tyrian woman’s face. Her brow furrowed as she suddenly tried to pull her lekku out of Draedan’s hand. He clutched it harder and pulled her back, causing her to slam her back into his shoulder. He let out a little cry, and slouched as she continued to walk where he pushed her.

Suddenly, the crowd grew silent and on a large central platform appeared a half dozen Zygerrians and their slaves. A male with a large set of facial horns took center stage with three female slaves kneeling several feet behind him. His high pitch voice was contradictory to his large size and full facial mane.

“Greetings travelers! I’m humbled that you have taken your time to come visit me at my prestigious school! No matter where you come from we all have something in common!” he continued, his voice becoming more whiney as he seemed to grow more excited. “We all have, at one point or another, ended up with an untrainable, undisciplined slave and we all know how sad we are to have to give them up instead of making them work.”

He grinned into the crowd, looking at individual people and giving them a sharp fanged-toothy grin. He walked up behind a lovely Togruta woman and patted her head, causing her to immediately look at the floor.

“When you get the right breeding stock it somehow seems easier to force them into compliance. Where as when you get genetically inferior specimens,” he said while patting the Togruta’s lekku, “those who claim to have so called royal blood are often likely to fall into this class, you end up with spiteful and disobedient servants who either intentionally break your favorite vases…”

At this point the Lord grabbed the Togruta’s lekku and squeezed it, causing her to shriek, then he continued.

“This girl was a chief's daughter, and although barely civilized this slave believed that her position was higher than any other and felt she deserved special treatment because of it. So folks!” he said as the crowd laughed and a large man holding a whip stepped forward, “I have a special treat for you before the auctions are held and I start taking your horrors off your hands and improving them for you.”

He pulled the Togruta up by the lekku and although she went submissively, he still dragged her and pushed her face first into the stage.

“Welcome! To the Slave Training Academy of Gaerlin and the last day of Malia’s breaking!”

The crowd applauded as the large man who was standing in the back, moved to the front of the stage and began whipping the girl. At the first crack, Draedan felt K’tana flinch. The next several she didn’t so much as twitch. Her body went completely still and even her breathing stopped. She kept her eyes on the man with the whip, not once looking at Milia. The Rattataki came around to the front of the Twi’lek and tried to block her view, but she grabbed his arm and forcefully pushed him aside, giving him a hard look of pure ice when she did.

“Don’t touch me.” she said, her face blank, but her eyes had a slight glow. Her pitch became soft and cold. “I need to see this.”

The Rattataki was taken aback but he sidestepped, rubbing her lekku with his thumb, hoping it was a form of comfort. Once again she stopped moving and breathing, watching the man on stage flog the silently crying Togruta her skin grew cold. Draedan looked down at her fingers and saw blue sparks. He wound out and clocked her.

She spun, pulling the thin gold leash he held taut before it snapped, scattering gold links across the floor. Everyone stopped at looked over. A few Owners chuckled and the Flogger stopped his work as he, and the teary eyed Togruta, looked over to Lord Gaerlin. The Zygerian had a look of curiosity as he nodded to the people on the stage. The Flogger lifted up the girl and led her off the stage.

“My dear man! Please, bring your misbehaving girl up to the stage.” Gaerlin ordered as he looked over at Draedan. The Rattataki grabbed the Tyrian woman by the lekku and heaved her to her feet. Her eyes burned in rage and just as she opened her mouth again, Draedan backhanded her lips. The crowd parted and the Twi’lek began to shake. Draedan assumed it was with rage for he didn’t think she could even feel fear. When he looked at her face, he saw he was right.

Her violet skin had a deep crimson undertone, the red of her blood had rushed to the surface and it gave her a really lovely flush. Draedan shook his head as he pulled her to the stage. She went limp and whimpered as she looked at it, so he picked her up and threw her on it. She grunted as she hit the platform, her arms under her she tried to lift herself up. Gaerlin walked over to her, said nothing, and stepped on her lower back, flattening her. He smiled at the Loyalist Guard and held out his hand.

Draedan took the Zygerians hand and shook his head as he looked at the Twi’lek. She locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk passed over her lips, before it all faded and a mask of fear took over. Her saw her body begin to vibrate as she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears to spill down her cheeks.

“Lord Gaerlin, I am Sergeant Draedan. This girl is-” he started with a smile but was quickly cut off.

‘Until they are broken, they get numbers, not names. As your slave is the most rebellious of the group today, I’m going to do you a favor.” he smiled as he turned to address the crowd. “You see, great people, I don’t only do this for the fantastic wealth. I do this because I’m incredibly good at it and I love to do it. There is nothing in my life so fulfilling as breaking a willful slave.”

“Break me? Ahaha. I don’t think so. This petty male has no idea who, or what, he’s dealing with. I will find the Rite and I will make this man my personal pet. Before this War is over, I will have this breaker of slaves on a leash.” Draedan heard her voice echoing in his mind.

His eyes grew wide, but he looked down at his shirt and straightened it as he plastered a fake smile on his lips. The Zygerian was still stepping on K’tana and her tears were still falling, although the look in her eyes could have burned holes in the wooden floor. Draedan waited until the Lord looked back at him before he started listening to the man again.

“My, dear Sergeant Draedan, I will thus be taking this burden from your shoulders, free of charge, and not only will I break her willful spirit, I will turn her into a most excellent servant in every way possible” Gaerlin said with a wink. Draedan immediately, shook his head causing the Slave-Breaker to raise his brows.

“You may break her. You may train her. Please do not...ruin her.” Draedan said softly looking at the Twi’lek. Gaerlin’s laugh was infectious among the crowd.

“Ah, I see how it is my dear man! A little Twi’lek Frenzy!” he grinned condescendingly, “Don’t worry my good man, it happens to the best of us. You have my wold, I’ll not soil this little lovely. But she will be trained properly.”

At that, Draedan nodded his head and two large men came over and carried K’tana off the stage. It was all up to her now. As they talked over useless details of when to pick her up, Draedan regretted allowing K’tana to kill Connor. Perhaps he’d have had an easier way then the path she’d decided to take.

-------------------

I was already bored. How was this even possible? Locked in a set of boring manacles, threatened every now and then as the giant Kitty-Cat attempted to degrade and humiliate me. You can’t humiliate the dead. Although I guess you can’t bore them either. So I’m not fully dead inside, because I was frakking bored as I would be if Kika’lekki took me to her light. I don’t care if I live or die, because both existences have been and will be...Boring.

I watched the fur-ball pace back and forth. Occasionally he’d ask a question, and I’d play along. I’d growl, swear or sob as his need required. I would only put up as much of a fight as I needed to in order to keep the charade going. Eventually, about an hour later, he asked me if I’d behave for him. I let out a whimper and nodded my head and added a “Sir” for added points. As he unfastened my hands, I clutched at my wrists, letting him run his fingers over the remains of the chain that was still attached to my outfit.

Then I began to laugh.

This behaviour immediately confused him. The stink of his confusion spread through the room. I knew that even if I were halfway down the hallway I’d be able to smell it. I stood up and let the Rage of everything he wanted to do and everything he had done to that weak girl on the stage, flow through my muscles. I grabbed the hairball by the throat and spun him around, slamming him into the wall I was just attached to. I smiled into his face as he gasped for breath.

“W-who are you?!” his breathless, weak voice spurred my rage. I tightened my grip so he couldn’t speak. Then I leaned over him, dragging my chest across him and smiling for him. The confusion and fear spewed from his pores and I shook my head as I bound him to the wall with the shackles he’d kept me in.

I tilted my head and smiled as I took a step back. The manacles were some kind of metal and I really just wanted to test the conductivity. I figured that maybe I should give him a taste before I really went at him for answers.

I let the smooth feeling that bubbled up from a cold place in my back, spread up my shoulders and down to my fingertips. I’ve been told everyone experienced using the Force differently, but as far as I could tell, no one felt it as a cold well in their back. To each their own. As it coursed down my arms, the feeling warmed up until it was hot, but not uncomfortably so. I twiddled my fingers for effect as I sent the blue light at his left arm cuff.

His scream told me all I needed to know.

It was a tiny little zap, but the current licked the cuff and bounced around through his wrist and up his arm until I could see the muscles in the side of his neck twitch and spasm. Unfortunately, the dumb cat had no pain tolerance. He passed out after I tested the other arm. Men are always the first to faint.

I decided to leave him there and go looking through his private rooms in search of the Grand Master’s Ritual-thing. I figured it’d be a holocron or a scroll. It didn’t really matter, I’d just steal whatever looked ancient and useful. I figured I’d scope the room I was already in first.

I found a few items in this “torture” room that could’ve made Connor blush. Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Haha! That’s was fun. I looked back at the unconscious slaving scum-sucker. I figured that he’d cause more problems being alive. If he really is good at breaking people, then maybe he’d be more of a danger to be left alive...Unless I broke him. Hmm.

I scurried around the room looking for anything interesting and that I could sell, or use to get into a safe room. I found a keycard on a table near the “bed”, if you could call it that, a set of interesting leashes and a super cute purple knapsack. I strapped Gaerlin up and unshackled him from the wall. As he lay on the floor, I sat on his chest and poked him in the eye with my lekku as I pulled the sack over my shoulders.

“Wakey-wakey P.O.S-ey!” I sang to him in an off key note to just irritate him awake. Worked like a charm too.

“What the frak! Get off of me you-” I quickly brought up my favorite ability and waved my sparking finger in front of his eyes.

“Now, now! Be nice! Wouldn’t want Miss K’tana to get angry and go get the spray bottle, now would we Mr. Kitty?” I laughed in his face as his startled eyes went wide and he shook his head. I grabbed the collar and helped him get to his feet.

“Do you know about the Rite of innvuner...wait...invisibility?” Damn. I knew this!

“Invin-” I held up my finger across his lips

“Shh! I know what it is!” I scowled, letting the sparks tickle his mouth. “Invincibility! Rite of Invincibility! Y’know where I can find it?”

“It’s a fake scrap of paper, what could you possibly need it for?” he asked with a rude tone in his voice. I gently patted his lips, scared he would faint like a sissy again.

“Shshshhshh, I didn’t ask for your opinion on it. I want you to take me to it.” I smiled and tugged his leash “mmk?”

“Fine, but it’s not a real thing. It’s a Brotherhood myth. It’s not a real thing!” I rolled my eyes and cuffed the side of his massive, furry ear. I leaned really close to him so he could see I was serious.

“I don’t give a flying rancor. I want it. You have it. And you WILL give it to me. Like right frakking now.” I smiled again as he sputtered and nodded his head.

He walked to the door and I really wished I could have seen him blush, for when the two guards saw him being walked out by me, UGH! It was so funny! I really had to hold my breath to not lose my mind giggling. He waved them off and I grinned at them as he led me to a large, super sealed up room.

“That keycard will get you in.” he said, his stupid giant ears flat against his shaking head.

“Uhuh.” I said, because I didn’t really care. The fact that the Rite was real or fake didn’t matter to me. I had a job to do, I was going to do it. When His Muzzzleyness got it, it became his problem. So long as the Estoryic-or-whatever-his-name was and the stupid One Sith didn’t get it, the rest didn’t matter.

I opened the door and gasped at the massive amount of shiny objects! Needless to say, I made fur-face open all the cases and I stuffed the knapsack to almost full. Several times I had to take something out and replace it with something smaller.When I figured I’d had as much as I could carry and still have room for the Rite, I poke his furry ass with my favorite shocking finger and spurred him towards a large case in the middle of the room.

He wasn’t joking. It was a scrap of paper. A large scrap, but a scrap none-the-less.

“Are you sure it’s the whole Rite of whatever?”

“Invincibility. Yes, but it’s not possible to make it work. So it’s obviously a fake.” I shook my head, still not caring.

‘Whatever. Open it up Mr. Kitty!” I poked him again, and he actually hissed at me! Like really! Who does that?! Wierdo. So anyways, he opened it up and then started laughing!

“What the hell fuzzbag?!” I yelled as he rolled up the paper and held it out to me.

“This room is meant to put things in. Not take them out. You just triggered an alarm that will alert all the guards and One Sith around the city.”

My next statement was obvious.

“Well, frak.”

-------------

Draedan couldn’t tolerate leaving her alone. He paced inside of Connor Grey’s ship anxiously. He’d sit down, go over maps, clean his blaster, checked over Connor’s .48 and do more pacing. Only three hours had gone by before he knew something was wrong and he needed to go back and help her. Tucking the .48 back in his pants, he practically ran out of the ship and back onto the market.

He arrived back at the Training Center just as he saw the Tyrian Twi’lek running out of the building a giant pack on her back and a stupid smile on her face. A huge platoon on men armed with guns and blades came storming out of the building after her. Each shot only barely missed her and he heard her yell obscenities at them when their shots came too close for her comfort.

“Draedan!” she laughed when she saw him and raced over, spinning him around to run next to her and pulling him faster.

“Do’ya think you can fly Mr.Grey’s ship?” the Rattataki was shocked, but not all that surprised. He nodded as they flew over the compact sand.

“Okay, well that’s good. When we get out of atmo, you wanna contact the dropship?” she laughed nervously, not even out of breath as she ran “I totes forgot my lightsaber, and I kinda need it.”

Draedan looked over at her in utter disbelief. He would have brought his hand to the back of her head if he didn’t think that perhaps too many whacks caused her problems in the first place.

When they arrived in the docking bay, she suddenly shoved into him knocking him over, as a robed figure sent a bolt of lightning at him. The Twi’lek smiled and shot a bolt back at her adversary. She laughed as she kept running, until she heard the ignition of a lightsaber.

“Frak! Kark! Frell!” she screamed. She removed the backpack and stuffed it into Draedans hands, quickly pulling out a piece of rolled up paper. “Keep running. Get to the ship and get it in the damned clouds. I’ll buy us some time!”

She stopped running and grabbed for her shiv. Her body went cold as she experienced a momentary flash of worry. She was unarmed and if this person was who she’d been warned about, she was in trouble, but at least she had the paper.

“Hey!” she yelled as she shot another bolt of electricity towards the hooded form. The Twi’lek ginned and waved the paper in the air. “I got something for you! Wanna talk?”

Had any people stayed in the area, they’d have most likely bolted at the sound of her manic giggle. If not, then it would of been at the point when the robed woman dropped her cloak to the ground and pointed her long, red lightsaber at the skipping Twi’lek.

“Bring it here.” she said firmly.

“Yeah, sure. Then you just leave your saber over there.” K’tana spun around, still smiling. “Look I’m unarmed! I just wanna talk, mmk?”

The Iktotchi lifted her chin and looked the younger woman over. Necren wasn’t sure what to think about Brotherhood member. The Twi’lek was little older then a girl, there was an innocent smile on her lips, but her green eyes seemed to reflect the moonlight as an animal eyes did.

Necren disengaged her saber and dropped it to the ground, just on top of her cloak.

“Come then.” the older woman said, a wisp of a smile touched her lips as she inclined her head and slowly blinked. She watched as the Twi’lek nodded her head as she skipped over, waving the Rite of Immortality in her hand. As the girl smiled and stopped a foot away from the other woman, they stood eye to eye, Necren felt a stab of wasted youth as she gazed at the girls smile. All she could think was how the Brotherhood had failed to train the innocence out of this child.

It would be a pity to kill her.

“Hand over the Rite girl.” a devious look over took the Knights face.

“I have two conditions. They’re simple and require everything on your part.”

Necren inclined her head again, trying not to smirk.

“You let me go. Obvious and simple. You can track me to see that I won’t be going back to the Brotherhood if it makes you feel better.”

“Simple, as you say.” Necren nodded.

“Second, tell Darth Esoteric that Kata’lek Blen of Arcona says hello.” the Twi’lek smiled sincerely, even reverently, at the thought of Darth Esoteric hearing she managed to acquire the Rite for him. Necren couldn’t help but smile.

“I will give you your due girl. Even if you go back to the Brotherhood, we shall come find you, if you’re strong enough to survive what comes next.” The purple girl smiled and bowed her head. Her purple fingers opened as she displayed the Rite held in her palm. Necren took it and chuckled.

“Good luck child. Now get going.”

“Thank you miss!” the Twi’lek girl giggled and said as she ran to the started ship, she turned backwards to wave before hopping aboard.

Darth Necren looked at the ancient scroll, collected her saber and cloak. She shook her head with a grin as she walked towards her own ship, and back to her Master.

-------------

“What the hell did you do!” Draedan yelled at the Twi’lek as she entered the cockpit. “And what the frak are you smiling about! The Brotherhood will exile you, if they don’t kill you!”

The Twi’lek giggled.

“Why would they do that?” she smiled at the fuming Rattataki as he sputtered at her.

“Lord Cethgus will have my skin. Oh Sithspit, he’ll probably take my horns as a necklace. You’ve not only killed yourself, but me!”

“Pffft, you’re making such a big deal out of this. We should be far more worried about not getting back to the dropship and getting the kark away from this planet. The old hag is gonna be pissed!” she giggled as she started to walk out of the room.

“Hold on!” he roared at her, stopping her in her tracks. “where is the Rite?”

She frowned, nodded towards the backpack he’d thrown on the floor and then realization hit her and she burst out laughing.

“Wait! You thought!? Oh. My. Goddess!” she belted out laughing as she fell to the floor, and curled into a frantically giggling ball. Her breath came in gasps as she rolled side to side. “I can’t believe you’re that...stupid! That I’d give her...oh my goddess!”

The Rattataki started laughing as he figured it out.

“So what did you give her?” he asked while going over to the pack.

“I dunno. But I stuck the Rite in a pocket I found in the pack. Everything else went on top. That scroll was probably a recipe or some garbage.” she remembered how to breath and sat up on her closed knees as she watched him rifle through the bag.

He found the pocket she was talking about and found the rolled up scrap of paper. He opened it up and read parts of the Ancient Sith markings.

“Frak me!” he shook his head as he grinned. “You really found it!”

The Twi’lek’s eyes widened and she looked at him from under her lashes.

“I said I did.” he laughed at her response.

“Can you even read this?” he said mockingly. He started to laugh until her hand shot up, pointing at his face, blue sparks darted across her fingers. His voice dropped to a whisper “You wouldn't.”

His fear made her laugh. Of course she wouldn't. She needed him to drive to the drop ship where she could retrieve her lightsaber first. She lowered her hand and laughed until he laughed with her. Her laughing stopped abruptly as she turned and left the cockpit.

“Get us to the dropship. Now.” she said as she swayed into the Captains quarters.

Draedan gulped and then immediately went about doing as he was told. His fear about her mental state growing steadily.

End

GJW XI: Round 2: Fiction
By SBL Archangel
#7589
SBL Archangel (Sith) / PROF / Battle Team Dorimad Sol of House Scholae Palatinae [GMRG: IX] [SA: V] [ACC: Q]

Nest of Vipers

“I don’t like the looks of this.”

The wind whipped around them in a torrent, scouring their fatigues mercilessly. They lay in the open, with a few scrub bushes around them to contrast the amazing emptiness of the landscape around them. The winds had been blowing for days, seemingly endless in its assault on the city they currently looked down upon.

“What’s wrong?” the second man said, staring through an optical scope, set up with a tripod and glare shield. He was the younger of the two, with a scruff of black hair peeking out from under his flak helmet. With a twist of the lens adjuster, he focused in on the distant city, through the haze and glare.

“I expected it to be more… busy,” the older man replied, adjusting the rifle butt against his shoulder, trying in vain to get it into a more comfortable position. They’d been laying at the crest of his hill for several hours now, and the strain and boredom were taking their toll. He pulled at the collar of his uniform, but instead of getting a little relief from the heat, he only allowed a flurry of sand in to irritate his skin.

“I guess everyone’s doing what we’re doing,” the spotter replied, his pencil scratching slowly across his notepad, marking distances to buildings and range markers, “Sitting back and waiting to see what everyone else does”

The sniper nodded, staring through the scope of his rifle, moving miniscule degrees at a time, watching for movement. He’d been in the 101st Special Forces Legion since its inception, and was one of the top snipers in the Guard. In spite of a life under the direct command of Dark Jedi, he never expected to be laying in the dust and filth of the ancient Sith homeworld of Korriban. He felt that he should be more awed, but it was another planet, another dust bowl, and a new set of targets.

“Heads up,” came the call over the squad communications link, “We have movement on the outskirts. Looks like a speeder bike. 2-3, confirm”

The sniper repositioned himself, tensing slightly as his prowess with his rifle would soon come into play. He took a few moments to locate the speeder bike in question, mostly relying on the plume of dust it kicked up as it zoomed across the flat plain around the city. It was making its way around the edge of the city, dipping behind obstacles with trained ease. He lifted his hands to his throat, and pressed the actuator on his throat mic.

“2-1, this is 2-3. We have visual confirmation,” he said softly. Despite the distances involved, it was habit not to speak loudly in overwatch positions. You never knew who or what could be listening in.

“2-1, this is 2-Actual,” spoke up a deep voice, resonating with commanding tones, “Be advised. Target is known fugitive Connor Grey. Dispatch him at your earliest convenience”

The order was clear and simple, spoken without mirth or disdain. The sniper began to make his calculations, as his spotter set about assisting. The man acting as 2-Actual was the one of the highest ranking individuals in the Scholae Palatinae military, a hulking brute of a man who had spent almost double the sniper’s lifetime at war. The fact that he was a Dark Jedi as well only added to the abject terror the man could instill in his men. Thank the Force he was on their side.

“2-3, 2-1. Take the shot,” the unit commander relayed the order, though it was unnecessary. The sniper lined up the target, using the pips on his scope, and an array of mental calculations for range, air density, altitude and target speed. His finger squeezed gently on the trigger, and a bolt of red fiery hell lanced out of the barrel. The target dropped like a stone, falling away from the speeder bike and bouncing heavily on the hard packed surface before slamming into the side of a structure.

“2-1, 2-Actual, this is 2-3. Target eliminated.”

The sniper started breathing again. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped, and chided himself for his absent mindedness. His spotter gave him a sharp pat on the shoulder plate in congratulations, and he flashed him a smile in return. It was a good shot, not too difficult considering the atmosphere and elevation gave him pretty much perfect circumstances to take the shot. But a moving target, especially one that quick, is always a challenge.

“2-3, 2-Actual. Excellent shot. Pull back and regroup at RZ Aleph. We have the information we needed.”

---

“You are sure?” the voice said through the hologram before him. He nodded his head at the small image, a masked man he knew and trusted with his life. The masked man seemed to consider the situation for a moment before returning the nod with a sharp one of his own.

“Do it, Archangel. Better than letting it fall into Lord Ashen’s hands”

Archangel allowed himself an almost feral grin, and with a quick motion slammed his helmet back onto his head. Through the voice box of his helmet, he replied, though now with mechanically altered tones.

“Your will be done, my Emperor”

---

The city of Dreshdae had sat on that spot of copper coloured earth since before the Jedi Civil War. A rough and tumble borough, it was not even worth mentioning in most star maps of the area. It’s importance had long since passed into the annuls of history, and the only reason it was inhabited is because the denizens who did so had no where else to go.

So as the All-Terrain Experimental Transport walkers of the Scholae Palatinae 90th Airmobile Legion began their barrage, very few people batted an eye. Each AT-XT was equipped with a pair of proton mortars, some of the most dangerous mid-range artillery available to the Scholae Palatinae military. And with the legion’s entire array of sixty-four walkers, it was little more than a turkey shoot.

The area was saturated with fire, a textbook and clinical rain of destruction peppering the landscape. After an hour of constant bombardment, the walkers moved in, opening up with their laser blasters, targeting any fleeing vehicles or buildings too stubborn to fall over when struck by a mortar.

Needless to say, any clandestine meeting being held there, for whatever reason, be it an alliance of mutual benefit, or the exchange of documents relating to the Rite of Immortality, was now officially cancelled. It’s hard to find a document which is under tons of rubble, even if it did survive. And if it had, the delay in its retrieval would suit the needs of Scholae Palatinae just fine.

“You know what?” Archangel said, arms crossed tight against his chest. He stood with one of his best friends, and fellow commander, Dante, while they watched the smoke rise from the ruins of the city formerly known as Dreshdae.

“What?” Dante replied simply. Neither man was much for words at the best of times.

“I love artillery.”

NiteDawn/12925
“All I need is a simple recording of the rite to immortality,” Trooper A sighed to himself. He was stuck in Dreshdae on one of the Hag’s crazy errands. He was not sure why it was so important to get ahold of the writings. Trooper A was convinced the old Hag had already achieved immortality, such as it was. If being old, crotchety and dementia ridden was the cost of living forever, he would gladly pass.
Trooper A dragged his thoughts back to the present as he reflected on the mess that was Connor Grey. Someone, or thing, had gotten to the arms trader before he had. Not surprising since the idiot decided it was a good idea to advertise he had a rare rite that belonged to the Sith. His hole-in-the-wall shop was partially melted from thermal detonators. The rest being shot up with precision, every artifact nothing but pieces.
“He is still alive,” Bitch stated it as fact. “Classic misdirection.”
“That thought does remain, but confirming his current condition isn’t why I have been here for two weeks. The rite wasn’t among the pieces of wreckage.” Trooper A pointed out. A thorough going over had revealed that he hadn’t been the first to go through the pile of debris, and that the rite wasn’t there.
“A runner of his portent would have several escape measures and a backup plan.”
“If he was crafty, he wouldn’t have advertised he had the Rite.” Trooper A grumbled. “Unless he figured out what he had and decided it was too hot and let the first opportunist come by and take it.”
“Possible, but shows a bad business model on Grey’s end.”
Trooper A did his best to ignore the voice going on in his head about how She would have done it if she had found the rite. It was odd that Bitch was actually showing any interest at all in a simple arms dealer. Yes he dealt in relics from time to time, but what was that to an advanced AI?
“Let’s ignore Grey for the moment and focus on where the Rite actually is,” Trooper A suggested. He was sitting outside a small watering hole, doing his best to observe the crowd without drawing attention to himself. It was easier than other places. Being fully armored and hiding it with a bulky coat was the dress code for Dreshdae.
“I would find Synin Torin,” Bitch repeated for the umpteenth time. “He arrived here a week before we did. He certainly has the motive and skill to pull off what was done to Connor Grey.”
“I am not disagreeing with you, but, he is a little difficult to approach don’t you think?”
“Not at all.” Bitch said with a sniff. “Speaking of which look to your four o’clock.”
Trooper A had already spotted the psychotic engineer before Bitch alerted him. It was hard to miss a dark cloaked figure with force corruption displayed on his face. He didn’t bother to hide it. His hair matched the picture that Trooper A had of the engineer; still unkempt and streaked with grease. What stood out the most though, and which caused even hardened criminals to give Synin a wide birth was his three droids; specifically a menacing looking battle droid.
“Sooooo,” Trooper A drawled out. “Which droid is going to meet with an unfortunate accident first?”
Bitch ignored Trooper A as she worked through the readings that she was getting from the Unsane sensors. Something was poking at her defenses, and she was running on a 99% probability that it was the battle droid doing it. She was unsure how the droid was able to pull it off, it was actually intriguing.
“I can feel your distraction,” Trooper A whispered in a mocking Jedi manner.
“Doubtful,” Bitch responded, annoyed at the sack of meat constantly interrupting her. “You aren’t that sensitive to the force and I have no access to it.”
“That sensitive?” Trooper A said a little hurt at the insult. He might not be able to use the force outside of his body, but he thought he was very attuned to it. “Compared to whom?”
“The Lady,” Bitch’s name for the Old Hag that had made Trooper A’s life more than interesting.
Trooper A thought the comparison a bit unfair. “Anything compared to the old Hag would come up extremely short in any matter concerning the force.”
“I have a limited pool of force users I can compare.”
“You have three,” mumbled Trooper A. “And comparing me to Dawn is almost as bad as comparing me to the Hag.”
“Why?” Bitch was actually interested in the reaction Trooper A had by even the thought of being compared to the two other force users she had working knowledge of.
“They are both insane,” Trooper A spelled it out. He took a moment to glare off the few unwanted eavesdroppers.
“From the reaction of the crowd, I would say you are the crazy one.”
“Keep it up, Bitch,” Trooper A muttered. He was hoping it wasn’t audible. The implant he had in his head allowed uninterrupted communication with Bitch, the overly advanced AI who resided on the Old Hag’s ship the Unsane. But Trooper A often wondered how much Bitch could actually pick up from the implant.
“The battle droid is coming over.” Bitch informed.
“I know,” Trooper A said, not sure why he knew. He hadn’t been keeping an eye on the group. Droids weren’t living, he shouldn’t have felt them. If he hadn’t been focusing he probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But when he felt the odd presence around the thick cloud that was Torin, he was sure it was coming from the droids, even if the rational part of his mind was telling him it was impossible. Now that one was walking over he was sure of it.
“What do you want?” Trooper A said in way of greeting.
“The droid ignored him, its focus was on Trooper A’s forehead.
“It’s saying hello,” Bitch almost sounded flattered.
“I don’t hear anything,” Trooper A said not bothering to whisper.
“It is using the data link I established to communicate.”
“What does it want?”
Bitch was silent as she slapped away some of the more intrusive probes. “It’s curious.”
“That isn’t possible for a droid.” Trooper A pointed out.
“It shouldn’t be,” Bitch corrected. “Curiosity is unique to only two intelligence programs that I am aware of, myself and my sister.”
“Perhaps it has to do with the dark force leaking out of it.” Trooper A pointed out. There wasn’t a scanner capable of locating force, only other force wielders could do so.
“Explain,” Bitch said fully aware of the mechanics of the force, at least until they changed to follow the greater law of convenience.
“It is how I felt the droids. Someone infused them with force.” Trooper A pushed his senses out further confirming the droid was holding force. “Is there nothing this concept can’t do?”
“The droids can use force?” Bitch sounded almost giddy.
“Not sure ‘use’ is the correct term. As that thing is standing here I feel the pull it has. However, I am getting nothing else. I don’t know if it is aware it even has it.”
“I am aware,” the voice was very tinee. Something Trooper A would not expect emanating from a Droid designed to kill.
“You can speak,” Trooper A said slathering on sarcasm. The droid only glared at him, yellow optical sockets shrinking to slits.
“You will allow access to your owner.” It wasn’t a question.
Trooper A wasn’t sure what that meant. Bitch’s giggling filled in the gap. “She is not my owner.” Trooper A said through gritted teeth.
The droid didn’t believe him as it raised its right arm pointing a blaster directly at Trooper A’s head.
“He doesn’t believe you,” Bitch said still filled with mirth.
Trooper A did not share the merriment. “How is this funny?” He was more annoyed than worried, though having a battle droid point a weapon at your person certainly warranted attention. “Blowing my head off will not aid you.”
“He’s holding you hostage,” Bitch said laughing. This was making her year.
“All so it can talk to you? If it is already doing that, why does it need me?”
“I am playing hard to access.”
“With me as collateral?” Trooper A was not amused at all.
“He is having to use his own link. It is very limiting. He has concluded that since I am able to link with messy flesh, I should be able to establish a strong link with him.”
“When did the droid get a gender pronoun?” Trooper A didn’t bother paying attention to the reason Bitch gave him. “Care to tell it to back off?” There was a long pause, “Bitch!?”
“It’s flattering,” Bitch said.
“Not helpful.”
“Fine, I can data spike him. That should give you two tenths of a second.”
Not a lot, but it would be enough, he hoped. Droid reactions should far surpass flesh ones, no matter what some people think. To fight a droid you had to interrupt their ability to calculate and process data. Or overload them.
Trooper A felt the spike and immediately attacked the droid. Channeling the force Trooper A accelerated, unsheathing a vibroblade with one hand, knocking the blaster away with the other. He dragged the vibroblade across the droid slicing through the knocked away arm. Trooper A finished the move by doubling back on his initial slice and slamming the blade into the droid’s neck. As he moved to extract the blade to make another stab the blade stuck firm in the droids neck. The laminanium had liquefied around the blade and held it firm.
“He’s not finished.” Bitch noted.
“I know,” Trooper A said catching the swinging left arm aimed at his head. He heard the quit hiss of releasing gas and felt everything begin to burn. Instead of coma gas Torin had fitted his battle droid with a corrosive mixture. Trooper A now regretted not wearing his helmet. He held his breath as he drew his blaster and unloaded into the droid’s lower abdomen. The laminanium absorbed several shots but eventually was overloaded allowing a few blasts to melt away the delicate insides. With sparks and a loud pop the droid shuddered. The droid lost the ability to stand allowing a thoroughly pissed off Trooper A to throw it on the ground.
Waving the gas away and spraying his exposed flesh with a general neutralizer he took several shallow breaths to appease his lungs. Channeling the force into the body taxed the body beyond measure. It was comparable to running a full marathon in a second. Looking down at his assailant Trooper A was tempted to finish off the droid, but he thought better of it.

“He’s active,” Bitch announced.
“Still with the pronoun?” Trooper A mumbled. He stepped infront of the retrained droid. “Greetings Bob.”
“He says that isn’t his designation.”
Trooper A rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to humor a droid that sprayed some mystery irritant that forced him to spend two hours in a cleaning room getting it off his coat, armor and skin. Trooper A kneeled down to stare eye to artificial eye with the droid. “Bob, if you don’t start talking to me, directly, I will start extracting parts.”
“He doesn’t care,” Bitch replied. “Says Synin Torin will take great pleasure dissecting you.”
Trooper A shrugged. He was fine with Synin stopping by. That was actually the whole point of dragging the battle droid back to the room that he had rented out for the month. He had no doubt a paranoid like Synin would have trackers on his droids and that he knew exactly where they were. Trooper A only needed to know if Synin himself would show up or another droid would make an appearance.
“We have company,” Bitch sighed. “The assassin droid is coming.”
“That is some convenient timing.” Trooper A said. “Please avoid breaking it, I need to send it back once you are done with it.”
“I will deal with it quickly, it has no awareness. Not like the battle droid.” Bitch was disappointed. She had hoped that Synin was an engineer with a unique ability to infuse machines with awareness as well as force.
True to her word Bitch put the ASN-121 through a gauntlet of scramblers and data mines that scrambled the droids processing abilities to the point of it being barely capable of flight. Trooper A looked at the shivering droid, it had force in it as well. Trooper A was impressed. Synin wasn’t just a crazy engineer, if he was able to infuse machines with force they could be far more capable against other force users. The possibilities were a little unsettling.
Trooper A filed that little bit of information away and went to work sealing the dismembered right arm of the battle droid to the ASN. He sent it back to its maker with a very clear message. If Synin really was as fanatic about his droids as the rumors hinted at, he would be at the meeting place, and probably spitting blood.

Trooper A was all smiles, contrasting with Synin’s scowls. The man was certainly a site. He looked even worse than he did yesterday. Eyes were more sunken, force corruption was all over his face now. He was actually bleeding from his eyes.
“You will return what is mine,” Synin shouted.
Trooper A felt the words more than heard them. The force compulsion was thick in the words. “Force tricks don’t work on me.” Trooper A said redoubling his smile.
Synin ignored the human trying again. He was focused on reaching his battle droid. He was well restrained not allowing movement. But if Synin could reach the intelligence inside he could cope. He needed the cold calculating presence. He barely felt it, when he did he latched on, totally oblivious that Trooper A had closed distance and was now pointing a blaster at him.
Synin smiled through cracked lips, “You are a fool.”
Trooper A held up his other hand, “Please no mono-logging. All I want is a peak at what you acquired from Connor.”
“I don’t…”
Trooper A interrupted, “Pulled the data from your battle droid. You have it.”
Synin only glared. “Return what is mine!” He screeched.
Trooper A looked back at Bob, opening himself up to an attack. “Is he always like this?” The droid glared at him. “We talked about this,” Trooper A warned.
“My master,” the droid hesitated, “needs his droids as an anchor. Without us he is incomplete.”
Trooper A returned his attention to the man having what looked like a panic attack. “I would suggest you convince him it is in his best interest to meet my demands. After that he can pretend this was a bad trip on spice.” Trooper A directed his comments to Bob even though he was staring down Synin.
Synin looked at his battle droid who nodded slightly. “Fine,” Synin said throwing a sack at Trooper A’s feet. “Take it and be gone.”
“Interesting,” Bitch observed. “Synin looked like he got permission from his droid before he released the Rite.”
“Don’t care,” Trooper A said scanning the sack to make sure it wasn’t explosive. Keeping the blaster trained on Synin he removed several objects from the sack. He didn’t understand any of it, but didn’t need to. Bitch took detailed scans and recordings of everything. Trooper A then put everything back tossing the sack back at Synin. Trooper A didn’t have time to quip something pithy as Synin rushed past him to unleash his droid.
“Kill!” Synin commanded spittle flying from his mouth.
Trooper A looked at the droid and then at Synin, then back to the droid. “I disarmed him, and he is missing his blaster arm. He has already fought me once and lost, and he actually is aware in many respects. Most importantly he has gained the ability for self-preservation.”
Trooper A was talking to the back of Synin’s head as the squealing lunatic was busy shouting at his droid, who to the great shock of Synin, backhanded the man in mid rant. The hit was brutal and unexpected. Synin didn’t block it allowing the full force of the hit. Trooper A knew from the sound that the jaw was broken.
“Okay,” Trooper A said whistling. “I think that wraps things up here.”
The droid simply stared down at the unconscious body covered in dust and drool. “I know you kept one of the pieces of the Rite with you. Don’t worry, I don’t care.” The battle droid said. “If this flesh sack attained immortality it would be intolerable.”
“Yeah, I am leaving now.”

Trooper A presented his findings to the Old Hag who was far too busy laughing at him to make any sense of her. Whatever she wanted from the Rite she must have gotten.

The settlement of Dreshdae was on fire. Most of the inhabitants had fled in the past few days as the fighting first broke out. By now the town had been held by Odan-Urr, Taldryan, and at present the Iron Throne's Nephilim had barricaded the streets. Snipers peered from broken windows and the soldiers of the Iron Throne rifled through every safe, databank and storage closet they could find. What they could not use, they burned.

Colyn Skybender stood with Scion Altera at the top of a ridge overlooking the town. The two men looked a little like long-lost brothers. Both wore military uniforms, both stood about the same height, and both looked on at the burning town with the hardened gaze of someone who has watched many men die.

"The scrolls aren't here, are they?" Scion's query hung in the air, but he already knew the answer before the other man said it.

"No."

"Any idea who has them?"

"Connor Grey. He's a relic hunter. Our sources tell us he was here trying to book passage off planet. I think he must have succeeded. We'll burn this town to the ground, then get back to the Valley."

Scion nodded in agreement.

"We'll get him," said Colyn. "He can't have gone far."

"I have no doubt."

Scion did not allow himself to smile. He knew that Connor Grey was, in fact, aboard the *Magnus Kaerner* being interrogated at this very moment. Last night's patrol had been successful, and the scrolls were now safely stowed in his office. His meeting with Lord Ashen's general, Colyn Skybender, was merely a formality at this point.

Darth Aeternus had made his way into the town a few hours ahead of the Nephilim. Taldryan forces still controlled it, but the battles in the Valley had required them to draw down their defense. Stationed in the hills near the town, scouting teams had kept eyes on the main roads and a few key buildings including the Drunk Side tavern.

Darth Aeternus had just walked up to the checkpoint, where he had said something very convincing to the post commander.

"I'm just here for an ale at the tavern," said Darth Aeternus. "You will clear me for passage into the town."

"You're just here for an ale, that's fine," said the Captain. "I'll clear you for passage into the town."

Aeternus smiled as the Captain handed him a set of papers.

"Thank you, Sir. Here's a few credits so you can get an ale on me when you're off duty. Have a good night."

The Tarentae passed into the town, disappearing into the shadows as soon as he was out of sight of the guard post.

"CIC this is Eternal. I made it inside the town. En route to the tavern now. Over."

"Eternal. We have not observed the target leaving the tavern. Please proceed as planned. Over."

"Affirmative. Over."

The Drunk Side was a large, duracrete construction. Booths lined the walls, and the bar was built as a large circular establishment in the center of the room. The walls were scrawled with graffiti, and there were only a handful of regulars sitting at the tables. Connor Grey seemed to be a few drinks in, speaking loudly to the Rodian behind the bar.

"That's **not** how you make a Sarlacc Pit! Where'd you learn to mix drinks, the spice mines on Kessel?"

The Tarentae slipped inside and walked up to the bar, next to Connor.

"Mr. Grey, I presume?" asked Darth Aeternus.

"Who wants to know?" Connor scowled at him.

"I'd like you to come with me," said Aeternus.

"Yeah, I bet you would."

A flash of light erupted around Connor, and Aeternus instinctively shielded his eyes. When he opened them, Connor was gone. He whipped around and was out the door in a flash, until he realized that he couldn't sense Connor's presence in the Force at all.

"Frak!" he muttered.

At this time about half a dozen men around the tavern had stood up from their tables and were staring at the man in the doorway. Their hands were all tucked inside their coats and Aeternus decided it would be prudent to duck out around the corner for a moment.

"CIC. I lost him. Did you see him leave the building? Over."

"Negative. No activity outside except for you, Sir. Over."

Aeternus frowned. *He must still be in there. Some kind of illusion?* The Tarentae ducked back around the corner and strode into the room, exuding confidence.

"All you mother-karkers are about to die, unless you bring Connor Grey to me. Right. Now."

Shots rang out. In a fluid motion Darth Aeternus activated his lightsaber. The cerulean blade caught the incoming blaster fire and effortlessly redirected it back to each of the shooters. In an instant he was on top of the nearest standing foe, his blade punched through the man's heart. Whipping around, he sent a massive shockwave into the bar, hurling the Rodian bartender over it and into the far wall. He was making his way across the room to the last man when a glimmer caught the corner of his eye. Planting his foot, he reached out to the last man with the depths of the Force and flung him with a considerable amount of force through the glimmer.

*grunt* "Ah, kark me!" exclaimed a voice. The Tarentae was on Connor in a second as he shimmered into visibility. "Don't stick me! I'll come quietly! You've made your point, mate!" Aeternus grimaced, and hit him hard on the head with the hilt of his lightsaber.

"CIC. I got him. Prepare for evac. Over."

GJW Round 2 Fiction: PRT DRACARYIS #13802

Dracaryis crouched on the small rock outcropping overlooking the Valley of the Dark Lords and surveyed the area carefully. It had been three days since his Master directed him to travel to Korriban to retrieve the ancient scrolls detailing the Rite of Immortality, and his search was turning up nothing of value. Carefully descending the cliffs, he made his way across the sands of the Valley and towards the ancient Sith Academy. Dracaryis had decided earlier that day that if was to ever track down the scrolls, he would have to begin at the place where they were originally uncovered.

This mission was incredibly risky, especially for a Protector armed with a training saber and a few undisciplined Force skills, but Dracaryis was not afraid. He excelled at working alone, and along with his keen intellect he was a natural detective; an obvious choice for this mission. “Find the Scrolls,” his Master said simply. “Find the Scrolls and retrieve them, so that your journey along the Dark Side may continue.”

Dracaryis approached the destroyed door at entrance to the ancient Sith Academy and stepped inside. He knew where the scrolls were found, and he was certain that he would find clues as to where the scrolls were if he examined the site. As he traveled through the dark corridors of the Academy he found himself in awe of its construction. The symmetrical halls, the sparse living quarters, the large training area; this had been a place where warriors were cultivated. He felt oddly comfortable as he walked the halls.

As he came to the excavation site, he became convinced that he was being watched. Though his Force training was still very unrefined, he was certain he could sense a strong presence watching his every move, waiting for him to drop his guard to in order to strike. He kneeled over the site where the scrolls were unearthed, and ran his fingers through the ancient soil, reaching out with his mind for some kind of sign that would point him in the right direction. He heard the hum of the lightsaber before he had a chance to react, and was lifted off the ground and thrown against the wall by an invisible entity. Dracaryis shook his head and attempted to regain his focus. As his vision returned, he found himself looking directly into the eyes of a female Ikotchi…he was face to face with Darth Necren.

“Who are you?” Necren demanded.

“I am Dracaryis, Protector and servant of Clan Plagueis.” Dracaryis replied quickly, but without fear. He knew how he spoke and interacted with Necren would determine whether or not he survived this encounter.

“Why are you here?” the Elder questioned.

“My master sent me in search of the scrolls defining the Rite of Immortality. I am to return them to him in order to continue my training.” Dracaryis replied. It was better to tell the truth to Necren than to lie, as she would know if he was lying anyway.

“Your master sent you to Korriban, with a limited knowledge of the Force and armed only with a training saber? “ Darth Necren asked skeptically.

“My master is confident in my abilities. I will find the scrolls, and I will destroy anyone who tries to get in my way.” Dracaryis declared, igniting his training saber. “I am not afraid of anyone or anything on this planet, including you.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could silence himself. He stood there, gripping his training saber and preparing for Necren to strike. Darth Necren surveyed the young Protector pensively, running her fingers along the hilt of her lightsaber. Suddenly, Necren burst into patronizing laughter.

“You have spirit, Protector, I will give you that, “ the elder laughed. “You would not stand a chance against me, but I believe you can be of use. I also seek the scrolls. Abandon your master and join me, and I will continue your training.

Dracaryis was taken aback by this offer. To serve under Darth Necren would be a great honor. But there was the concern of her potential loyalty to the One Sith. Dracaryis didn’t care too much about that, as he preferred to operate solo. If he could learn from Darth Necren and then eventually betray her and usurp her power as all Sith are expected to do, so much the better for him.

“I am honored, my Master…” Dracaryis replied. “What would you have me do?”

SW Lucyeth
#13700

Phase 2 fiction from pin 3160

Sorry it was a little rushed and a bit of it might not make too much sense, my deepest apologies been having a horrible phase of writers block lately, cold feet for the GJW ^^"

Drake had just been promoted to Jedi Hunter after Ulfsark was Knighted, and he was lucky enough for his master Zagro to assign him a mission so early. Drake’s mission was simple, go to Tatooine, Drake’s homeworld, and find a component that would be useful when constructing a lightsaber. Drake knew the point almost instantly, having something that resembles Tatooine in the saber is a great way for the saber to reflect Drake himself. So when drake arrived on Mos Eisley; he knew where to go, the Dune Sea, a place where a powerful and dangerous beast lived… A Krayt Dragon. Not only was he hoping to get a Krayt Dragon pearl, but also some bone samples as it would look cool on a hilt.

Looking around the crowded city he finally found what he was looking for, a speeder rental. Drake purchased a low quality speeder, as his funds suck at the moment and headed of for a dangerous terrain, filled with old and familiar enemies, and even a new one. As Drake traveled, he thought about the Great Jedi War and how its affecting the brotherhood. He was young but knew that this was wrong, talented Jedi are being slaughtered because of conflicting ideas of Muz becoming immortal. But as Drake drew closer to a cave system he could feel that his desire was there and shook the thoughts away.

Eventually Drake rode up to the entrance to the cave and hopped off. It seemed dark and secretive, so Drake just ran up all inside it and turned on his lightsaber being completely oblivious to what is inside. unfortunately, this was a bad time…

Drake knew it was dark, in fact, he could see almost nothing. But he did see something, although there was only two things to see, a punk ass soldier, and a friggin Krayt Dragon.

“OI, its my bloody Dragon innit!” Drake shouted
“Go away kid, hes mine.’ The creepy oldish guy said

“Git, you wanna tussle?” Drake teased
“No, i have very important business that does not involve you, and i swear, i will shoot both of your testi-” The oldish guy said before being flung into the air by the Krayt Dragon.

The Krayt Dragon roared a mighty war, and the Dragon swung its terrible tail, as it unsheathed it curled claws, and as it moved closer to Drake, the more Drake wished he wasn't there. But a simple Krayt Dragon couldn't stop the all powerful and great Drake Starfire, for he was the greatest in all the galaxy. And as the great rapper space eminem said, “You only get one shot so dont miss your one time to blow.”

“Mr. Dragon, this is your warning, make like a space tree and leave, or be punished to death by Blue Milk!” Drake exclaimed as manly as he could.

The dragon just snarled, and lunged at Drake. Drake luckily avoided the attempted attack but then took off running. The Krayt Dragon was fast, but Drake was able to just barely be ahead of it. Drake ran straight to a wall, made the sharpest turn you could make, causing the Dragon to run into the wall. Drake laughed momentarily. But the dragon was pissed, so Drake kept on running.

As Drake was doing this, the old guy (Colyn Skybender), began to awake.

“gotta do everything myself don't I” Colyn said. He aimed at the Dragon with his blaster as it kept on running after the invincible and majestic Drake, who was looking sexy as he ran. All it took was one shot to the Dragon’s brain to kill it. And after 3 seconds of aim time, Colyn did just that.

The Dragon tripped and laid dead, as dead as a doornail. Drake stopped to catch his breath, not too shocked about what just happened, and how the old guy did it.

“Where did you learn to shoot?” Drake asked.
“I learned from places i've been and served, and if your as good with that saber as you are running, then i suggest you make like a tree and leave, as you said before to the dragon.”

“Hey, I just need to slice open the gullet and take home a sample of bone.” Drake said.
“If youre after a Dragon Pearl you’ll have to go through me.” Colyn exclaimed.

Drake distracted Colyn by asking him what was behind him, Colyn turned to see nothing. Meanwhile Drake quickly ignited his lightsaber and cut both of Colyns arms off.

Colyn shouted in pain “GOD I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING!”

The soldier passed out and laid in silence. Drake popped open the gullet and found a single Dragon Pearl, he awed in silence. mesmerized by the pearl, he then cut off one of the arms and took a bone sample.

Drake messaged Zagro that his mission was complete and sent Zagro a quick snapshot.

Drake traveled back to mos eisley and left to go home. And all was right with the world...

A walk in Dreshdea
By Calvo #13922
---------------------------------------------------------
Calvo, a maron skinned Elomin, got off a ship, stepping in to the streets Dreshdea. He was wearing blue painted armour, that appeared mismatched. On the chest piece, the ws a painting of a skull surrounded by six drops of blood. On his waist laid a spiked chain, a dagger, and a basic lightsaber. He wore no helmet, showing his horns, which grew in a crown like structure.
Calvo was a member of Clan Plagueis, and an ally of the One Sith, in this Civil war. The Brotherhood had split, and after the first day of battle, a bloody battle, from which Calvo played a small role in. Here, in the One Sith controlled City of Dreshdea, Calvo expected another battle.
As he rounded a corner, he reflected on his life. His first mentor, before he came to the brotherhood, Mak Lya, a bothan darksider, died by the hands of two Jedi, though the more experienced of the two had recently gained the friendship of Calvo, promising to teach lightsaber combat to the Elomin. Mak had taught Calvo much, including the Beast control ability, and Jeswandi. Now, as a dark jedi, Calvo wondered if he was doing the right thing.
Calvo looked around, concerned for his safety. He caught a glimpse of an Iktotachi. Since he had killed the Iktotachi padawan who did kill Mak, with the help of Svere, he knew that this was not his main foe. This Iktotachi was wearing dark robes, and carried a long handled lightsaber, which Calvo took notice of.
“Iktotachi, who are you?” Calvo asked curiously, his hand going for his saber.
“I will ask the same of you Elomin,” The Iktotachi replied.
“I am Calvo, a veteran of the first day,” Calvo replied. “Now again, who are you?”
“I am Darth Necren, an asset of the brotherhood,” replied the Iktotachi.
“Which brotherhood?” Calvo asked, again suspicious.
“I know not at this time. Now leave me.” Necren replied.
“Darth Necren, if you don’t mind, why not come with me for a while.I understand it may not be your thing, but going alone in a war can get you killed, no matter how good you are. I am with the One Sith. We could aid you, and you us,” Calvo said, using his own Elomin nature to convince her.
“If you insist, though understand, in a fight, and when together, I am with you for my own survival. And your offer is intriguing,” Darth Necren stated, her tone final.
Calvo noded in agreement. “What do you know of the two other factions?” he asked.
“I know that Muz Ashen wants to become immortal. I believe he sent someone here to find a way to become so. I know that the rebels wish to stop him, though it appears that they can’t at least not today. If I am correct, the person Muz would send is Colyn Skybender, and Colyn would bring a good sized group, if he wa smart,” replied Necren. “I am guessing you would like to go after Colyn. I will, though this will sever any chance to be with Muz, so you better hope we either die today, or Muz loses.”
“Thank you, Darth Necren,” Calvo replied graciously.
________________________________________________________
After a few hours of searching, and more than a few dead rebels and loyalists, Darth Necren and Calvo were hiding in a museum, waiting for the loyalists to show up. They had tracked the rogue Jedi, Connor Grey, to this location. Apparently Connor was to meet with Colyn, and deliver an item with the key to immortality.
Connor paced the ground, waiting for his contact, Colyn to arrive. Connor was a tall human, though an older one, with chemically dyed blond hair. He was wearing dark brown clothes, and had a cigarette in his mouth. he had a slugthrower in a holster on his belt, and his lightsaber was out in the open.
The door to the museum opened, and a dozen men enter the building. Calvo looked around, sizing them up, as apparently did Connor.
One man came forth, a soldier if Calvo ever saw one. The human was of average height, and had a commanding presence. He was in dark grey robes, and had a lightsaber clipped to his belt, along with a blastech dl-22. A blaster rifle, a make Calvo could not make out, was slung over his shoulder.
“Connor Grey. I am Colyn Skybender. I am here for the package,” said the soldier.
“Really,”Connor said. “It will be 20,000 credits. I assume Muz gave you the money?”
“Yes, here you go,” Colyn stated, handing Connor the money. “The pack--”
Colyn was cut short the the scream of one of his men as Darth Necren jumped down from the balcony, Calvo close behind. As both Calvo and Necren hit the ground, they ignited their lightsabers. Connor and Colyn ignited theirs, followed by Colyn’s remaining ten men.
“Darth Necren, you aid the One Sith,” Colyn cried out. “Time to die.”
Necren looked at Calvo. “We had better win or die.”
“Win then,” Calvo replied before charging in, saber and spiked chain in hand. Necren followed only a fraction of a second behind. Colyn’s ten men met Calvo and Necren in combat head on, Colyn charging in just behind them.
“Deliver the scroll to Muz, he will reward you!” Colyn called out before entering the fray. Upon hearing this, Connor took of running.
Calvo lashed out with the chain, tripping a twi’lek that Colyn brought with him, then plunged his saber into the twi'leks heart. Necren cut down two of Colyns men, her long hilt giving her more leverage on the strikes. Calvo, now fighting two men, dropped his chain, and met them saber to vibrosword. For nearly a minute Calvo battled the two, enough for Necren to kill both.
Colyn and his four remaining soldiers retreated to the only door out of the building, then the four each ignited their lightsabers.
“Come to your death Necren and Calvo,” Colyn called out.
Necren, then, unleashed a burst of force lightning, that Colyn blocked with his saber, his men advancing on Necren, while she concentrated. Just before they were able to hit her, she jumped back, engaging all three, while Calvo found himself paralyzed.
Calvo watched in both fascination and horror, unable to move and assist Necren. Necren was pressed back by her four opponents, and Colyn started to advance. Necren fought well, but after a few minutes, she started to tire. after a few more blocks, and Colyn entering the battle, she was disarmed.
Calvo seeing this, broke free of his paralysis, and sprinted up and called on the force, pulling Necren’s saber to his hand, before leaping into the fray, the long handled saber giving Calvo more reach. As he landed, he cut down one of Colyn’s men. Necren took the reprieve to grab Calvo’s saber from the ground, and joined Calvo in the fight, flipping over Colyn and taking him one on one. Calvo, facing now four dark jedi of some skill, struggled to hold against them.
Necren and Colyn were stuck in a blade lock, which if either of them left, they would very much be killed by the other. Colyn cursed himself for allowing himself to be drawn into melee, especially against his quick and aggressive foe. He broke off, and just as he was able to call on the force to help, he was cut down, his chest sliced downward from left to right.
Calvo, seeing Necren cut down Colyn, felt relieved. He lashed out with Necren’s saber, plunging the saber into one of the four men, then kicked out at another, knocking the man unconscious. Almost instantly after doing that, Calvo flipped backwards, again on the defence, the saber not being what he expected.
Necren looked at Calvo, and knew he was doomed without a little help. Grabbing Colyns saber, she yelled, “Calvo, catch!” and threw it a Calvo, who caught, and ignited the blade. “Calvo, I am going after Connor!”and with that Necren ran off, along the same route Connor took.
Calvo, now swinging both sabers, was able to get an advantage against his two foes. He was able to kill off one, an then took his time with the other, killing him. Using his limited telekinesis he pulled the two remaining sabers into his hands, put all the sabers on his belt and took off running after Necren.
He encountered her after a few minutes of running.
“Calvo, we need to go after Connor. He took off in a ship just a minute ago. We may be able to catch him,” Necren said.
“I know someone. He is only a minute or two away,” Calvo replied. “His name is Svere. A Kaleesh dark jedi, and decent Pilot.”
“What are you waiting for then, I just commanded a ship. Get him!” Necren said, and she rushed to a ship, that looked like a Baudo-class Star Yacht.
Calvo, again, ran off, and did encounter Svere. Grabbing Svere by the arm, he ran off, quickly followed by Svere. When the arrived at the ship, only three minute after he left.
“Svere can you fly this?” Necren asked.
Svere, a mute from a injury he received, nodded, and got to the controls, barely giving time for Calvo to get in the ship before they took off.
The three managed to catch up to the ship Connors on. It was, a StarViper fighter.
Calvo ran to the gun controls, and fired. He managed to hit the wing of the ship, and the ship lost altitude, crashing into the desert of Korriban. Svere brought the ship down near the wreck of the crash. Calvo, Svere and Darth Necren exited the ship and saw Connor crawling, just a few meters away. Necren walked over,plunging Calvo’s blue saber into Conor, killing him.
“Calvo, I think I will join the one sith. I have no place with the loyalists,” Darth Necren stated. “What shall we do with the scroll? Surely it could be used to an advantage.”
“We burn it. If Muz wants it so much to send a dozen men out to ensure it is delivered he probably will try and take it from us,” Calvo replied. Svere nodded in agreement.
“Smart choice,” Darth Necren, “not what I would have chosen, but a good one.” Necen called upon the force, the lightning she called burning the scroll. “I will leave you now. Maybe I will see you again. I will head back to Dreshdea alone. You men can have the ship.”
She handed Calvo his lightsaber back, and he handed her her own.
“Thank you Darth Necren,” Calvo replied.
Calvo and Svere boarded the ship, leaving for Dreshdea, and preparing for the next day of the war.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/14rctH2jUUQAJx3ggJNmSDHILzKigmwSS_O-Alm4VcKA/edit?usp=sharing