So much has happened over the last few years. I joined a group, a cult really, within a secret Order styling itself as a group of fraternity. It is laughable really, to fancy the Brotherhood as what they call it. There is little sense of fraternity between the Clans, but given the events of late that is a story unto itself.

Looking back, even before my days as a Sadowan, I really never fancied myself anything like a family man. There was always too much going on. Family brought with itself a sort of collateral I never felt I could afford. Yet, here I find myself now as both a husband and a father.

I act as both Patriarch of a family, and as a Proconsul over the Clan. There isn't a lot of time to spend with my wife, so I was glad to see she came to Sepros. She even brought Lyna'Vel with her. The Consul gave me a couple hours to spend with them both.

"Hey kiddo." A chuckle escaped my lips as I stretched out my hands toward my daughter. She began to babble as I rocked her in one arm, smiling before I turned my attention to Tasha'Vel. "So, how bad is it?"

"What are you talking about, Bentre?"

"Oh, come on. Do you really think we can keep her safe on Ryloth for so long? I find it hard to believe that you enjoy shuttling between Ryloth, Tarthos and Sepros this often. Maybe we should look at cutting ties for a while. We can burn the bridge before-"

"No." The word came out as a sharp rebuke. The Twi'leki Sadowan's stare was harder than permacrete. "Why would we abandon our home estate?"

"We need to protect our child. Which is more important, Tash?" I held up a hand to interrupt her before she could object. "Failing that we need a way to protect her." I motioned my head toward the child in my arms. Concern marred the normally picturesque visage of my Tasha'Vel as she mentally chewed over the idea.

"What would you propose we do?" The question was tentative, and I could hear the concern. "There is only so much we can do, sweetheart. Are you suggesting we leave her in the charge of someone in the Clan?"

"Well," my voice faltered as a smile cracked the illusion of calm I strove to maintain, "something sort of like that. I was perusing the notes of our beloved Mad Alchemist, and I believe I might have a solution." This statement earned me a glare of suspicion from the woman of my life. I didn't expect she would go for this, but it was worthwhile to consider. "He did a bit with the child of our Clan's own Teu."

"Oh?" I could see a bit of genuine curiosity now. Macron had trained with her in Echani, he and I had compared notes concerning Alchemy and of course he patched up my eye after my little encounter with that worm, Ventus. So needless to say, we both considered him a friend of the family. Hopefully I would be able to bank on that for what I wanted to propose.

"Well, he managed to, shall I say, add some years to the child's life." This statement prompted a bit of confusion. I was going to have to prod a little differently. "He found out how to bottle experience to be applied at a whim." Her expression returned to one of suspicion and annoyance now. I had to suppress a chuckle as I contemplated how to next rephrase it. "Hell with it, Tash. Macron accelerated the child's growth. Imagine, the ability to pass years of development to see the glory of our prodigy. With a more developed frame, we can teach her Martial Arts, Alchemic Arts, and we can assure she will be able to defend herself! It would be glorious as both a solution and oh-" I shuddered slightly as I let a few chuckles slip, "it would be such an experiment! Given her parentage, she could even be trained to be a great Sith one day! Don't you see what could be?"

I had never seen something quite like the expression upon my wife's face just then. It was like betrayal, then sorrow, each emotion flashing by before settling into something like contempt. "This is our Lyna'Vel, and you want to use her as a," her voice curdled, "test subject for your labs? How could you ask such a thing!?"

"I only want what is best for her." I spoke the words in near deadpan.Obviously, my wife did not see the wisdom in this path. "I only-" I started to repeat my statement, but she scooped Lyna'Vel from my arms before turning on one heel and storming down the hallway. I stood there for several moments before letting out a long sigh. It went as well as I could have expected. I might have to take things into my own hands to ensure her safety. It is a father's duty, after all to protect his offspring.

Manually added by Adept Macron Goura Sadow

This is Abomination
where we will finalize the score
ruin of our enemies
to precede the next Great War

a chances for Dark Jedi
and the more Gray variety
all fight in Sadow's name
to prove their own tenacity

so united by common bond
we are Sadowan one and all
our tale eternal, unwavering
we shall not fail nor fall

"The prisoners are through this way, sir." The Mirilian Commander motioned to the door. "The ship had a registration we could not trace. When we stopped them they insisted they were looking for someone. After they were contained, we started searching the data contained on their computers. There was *a lot* of information on Orian, sir. We thought it was best we call you."

Bentre looked at his Warhost comrade for a few moments, licked his lips and then drew a slow breath, his features twisted in thoughtful scowl. "Why didn't you think to call Sanguinius about this while you were at it?"

"Well, sir, I thought that you would want to speak to them first. I think you will understand as soon as you speak with the pair of them."

"There are two of them?" Stahoes growled the question. "And you kept them together?" Looking off to the side, the Sith clacked his teeth together in frustration. An angry flush filled his cheeks as he glanced back at the soldier. "We will have words about this later, Telum."

"Aye, sir. May I be dismissed?"

"Go," The Corellian Sith did not look back to see if Cephas obeyed the command. Pushing the doorway open violently, he stepped briskly through the doorway. As his eyes adjusted to the lights, he saw an older woman, her brown hair tinged with lines of grey. Her companion sat beside her holding her hand. The older man tilted his head questioningly as he considered the Sadowan.

"Welcome to Orian space," Bentre adopted a falsely cheery tone, "I hope that my good friends in the Warhost have been keeping you very comfortable." He smirked as the man's mouth twisted in a display of displeasure. "Though, there are a few things that we do need to-" Stahoes motioned in the air as though reaching out to grasp his next words, "clear up. Minor details, I assure you. If all goes well, you might even be able to leave our system.Eventually."

"As we told your thugs, we don't have any real interest in your space, we just-"

"**Why**," Bentre punctuated the word with a near-yell, "then do your navicomputers contain so much information on our system?"

"Well, we are trying to tell y-"

"Do you want to know what I think?" Stahoes interrupted again, jabbing a finger accusingly. "I believe you are working for the Inquistiorius, prepared to fell those resisting *Pravus*."

"Who is Prevus? For that matter wh-" the older man started.

"Or *perhaps*," the Versea Patriarch chortled, "you are yet another agent of the Dominion, as they struggle to remove the rightful masters of our space."

"No," the male prisoner's words were now pleading, "we are looking for-"

"Secrets or intelligence?" Bentre interrupted again, his words growing cruel.

"No!" The female prisoner yelled, "we are looking for our son!" Her voice broke with the last few words. This stopped Bentre Stahoes stop completely for a moment. He looked more seriously at the woman, some of the cruelty gone from his eyes. "We lost our son many years ago. He disappeared from our home city, and we have been searching for him ever since.

"Too bad that you decided to stumble into our space."

"We had tracked through all sorts of space." The woman shook her head slowly as she spoke, appearing to be stressed by the memory. "We use some professional connections, and we finally got word of him on a planet. We traced appearances of our son and used what little information we had on departures and the like and then finally we triangulated several departures to find your space." Bentre nearly interrupted again, but he wanted to hear the end of this tale. "All we want is to find our boy, We lost him so long ago."

"You mean, we abandoned him." The old man's voice was bitter.

"Garhas," the woman's tone was reproachful,"you know we had no choice in what happened."

Bentre's gaze slipped between the pair, realization dawning in his eyes. "So you are Garhas," he pointed to the man before pointing at the woman, "which would make you- let me guess- Damasa?"

Real fear could be seen in the woman's eyes. "Who are you," her voice became a near whisper, "and how do you know who we are? What have you done to our boy? What did you do to our Bentre!?"

"Lots of things have happened to your son. He lost an eye to a monster, an arm in combat and then soon enough, he saw the light."

"What do you mean? What did you do!?"

"Don't worry, man and Lady Stahoes." Bentre let loose a nearly childish giggle. "I have done far more horrible things than my parents could ever cope with. You will have plenty of time to learn, however." Confusion filled both prisoner's eyes. "Don't worry your head though, mum. You and Dad will see in time."

"You cannot be my boy," the man shook his head, "he would never do the terrible things we have heard of. The murders alone are unthinkable of our boy."

"Oh, that is just the beginning da'." Bentre laughed at this point before he continued, his eyes becoming wide with a mania, "Would the two of you like to hear about some of them? Or are you prepared to deny leaving Corellia without me?"

The older woman took a quick breath. "You really are my little Benny?" Tears began to fill her eyes. "What has happened to you in all these years?"

"Went to war for my new family, got married into a new family, battle scars, madness, had a baby of our own," Bentre listed off the items seemingly nonplussed, "but don't worry mum, we will have plenty of time to catch up. I promise you that."

"Really?" Her words were hopeful, and the hopeful smile pulled at the corners of Damasa Stahoes' mouth.

"Oh yes, just let me take care of a few things, and we will have lots of time together." With a slight bow and a knowing smile, Bentre turned back for the door. He closed the door softly behind him, then pulled a commlink from his pocket. "I have spoken with the prisoners in holding point CP-33, and have determined they may be a threat. I want them moved to a proper holding cell with all the necessary equipment. The Proconsul is going to want to interrogate these prisoners at length, personally. Give it fifteen minutes, and then follow through with the transfer to the cell. Proconsul Stahoes, out."

Putting the commlink back, Bentre smoothed his clothes out thoughtfully. Few children got the chance to find long last parents after so long. He really should have been more thankful he supposed. Perhaps he should have at least had a meal with his parents before getting into the festivities. He could not forgive the pain they had caused him, but they were his parents after all.

Reunions could be so complicated.

The sound of armor plates moving against each other echoed slightly as he walked, but it did little to mask the sound of the blood pounding in his ear. Kerro shuffled his E-11 Blastech blaster from hand to hand as his visor adjusted to the darker lighting in the passage. While the weathered exterior had appeared to be made of crumbling stone, the passage appeared to be constructed of marble, strangely untouched by time.

“Llook at those carvings,” a woman behind the soldier breathed, “it reminds me of the Ragnos Cathedral.”

“Warhost Command-” snaps and crackle of static cut off words in his comm earpiece, “ -have lost visual contact. Report.”

“Didn’t catch that, Command.”

“Cap….eras…..an’t...ar...epeat…?” An increased level of static buzzed over the commlink.

“Captain Keras here, Team Bantha is inside a large structure. We are going to move in to investigate.” Clicking the As his eyes scanned the walls, Keras noticed an indentation in the wall. The object was a bit larger than his fist. As he shuffled toward the item, the other soldiers seemed to relax slightly. The female soldier, the Captain couldn’t recall her first name, stepped forward as she stretched a hand out slowly to allow her fingers to brush the orb.

“Be careful Omakor. Touching strange objects can be bad around-” the words died in the man’s mouth as the orb began to glow. A scream filled the passage, drowning out all thought.