Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Alright Janos, I am glad that you decided to join me on this errand." Bentre smiled at the older man.

The Knight gave a respectful nod to his former master in response. "'M jus' glad you felt ye needed me, Master." As the shuttle rocked, he extended a hand to stabilize himself.

"Our mission is very simple, at least in concept. It looks like the island might have cushioned the ship enough that the enemy Force user was not killed. Our job is to investigate the wreckage, and to contain the Force user. Locke says they have been using Battle Meditation, so if we can disrupt them the Warhost and our accomplices should be able to push the tide of this conflict back in our favor. If the Force is with us today, we may be able to realize the Consul's vision and wipe out the Dominion for good." Bentre looked out the shuttle's port window, seeing the form of the ship quickly growing larger.

"Just a few more moments and we will strike." Bentre cleared his throat, and rested a hand on his lightsaber, watching the spartan troop transport's entrance intently. As soon as the sound of the landing gear engaging could be heard, the Equite ignited his lightsaber. Stormwind followed suit, his glow of his purple beam mingling with the icey hue emanating from Stahoes' weapon. Janos looked forward grimly as the ramp descended, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach. Behind them was an injured-looking Trandoshan, bracketed on either side by another two Trandoshans.

His fears were realized as his eyes beheld the seemingly hundreds of yellow eyes staring back at him. "This is our time to strike. Together now!" As the Sith charged forward, the Journeyman stepped forward just behind him. As the Dominion foot soldiers charged forward in kind, the Sadowans brought their weapons up in retaliation. The two warriors turned their weapons about, cutting through the conventional weapons of the bloodthirsty lizards and cleaving into flesh. As blasters turned on the pair, Bentre threw out a hand, splaying his fingers. About two heartbeats later, white-blue tendrils arched from his fingers, striking the nearest of the Kaleesh and causing it to shriek in pain.

"Flee before your betters, common worms!" The Equite bellowed as his left eye began to glow. Shaking his hand quickly, the Corellian took a swipe with his lighsaber, cleaving through another Kaleesh. His vision seemed to narrow as the smell of blood hit his nose.

*Revel in the destruction, Benny. Just give in to the hunter you are, take your fill of the carnage.* The familiar, dark thoughts came back to mind. It was like his own voice, but not. Hard to explain, but for once he did not rebuke it. Now was the time to bring death.

Together, the two began to cut their way toward the trio of Trandoshans. As the crowd of Kaleesh began to fall away beneath their assault, the Shadow rmanaged to lock eyes with the injured alien. His fellows began to close in, to block the Corellian's path. Without hesitation, the Equite pulled back his arm below flinging his lightsaber forward in a tight arc. Using the Force to guide its trajectory, he watched as the weapon cleaved into the Trandoshan's chest. The creature let out a sharp cry of pain.

"Pull back, Janos!" He barked, reaching into his jacket. His fingers closed around a spherical object located where his blaster would normally have rested. Reaching back, the Sith flung the object between the trio. The grenade exploded in a flash of blue light and cold as Bentre called his lightsaber back to his fingers through the Force.

"Without their special boy, we need to hold them off long enough for the others to land. Maybe they can manage to keep the thing alive for questioning." Bentre growled and struck out with his reclaimed weapon, driving its blade into the eye socket of a particularly foolish Kaleesh who had gotten a little too close to his former apprentice. "We must make our stand here. Now, for the glory of Sadow!" Stahoes' raised his weapon in salute for a moment before twirling it around and drawing his feet back to square up his shoulders. This might test his application of Shii-Cho.

In a weird way, Bentre was looking forward to it.

"If we don't fight, the field is lost." Bentre looked down from his office in th e Lion's Tooth. Even from here, he could see the Iron Throne's loyal landing. Compressing the button on his commlink, he cleared his throat before speaking in a grave tone. "Alright Shar Dakhan, this is it. Looks like that worm Pravus won't let our people stand against his corruption much longer. So let's repel these intruders. We are at war. To arms! For Naga Sadow!"

As though on cue, several Warhost starfighters circled in on the landing shuttles. Doubtlessly Aexod would be among them. Two green lances of energy shot from the TIEs, striking the ground soundly. Stahoes could not hear their screams, but the sight brought him a smile. He wouldn't normally take this kind of initiative, but with Darkblade hiding away on the Sadowan ISD, *Covenant* he could not afford to stand on tradition. In the absence of the Quaestor, the responsibility fell to him. "Push these kriffing idiots back. Show them that we are not going to be conquered. I do not care where your loyalties lie, Dakhani. Stand up and defend your home."

The scene below was quickly becoming a bloodbath. Two shuttles, one bearing the colors of Marka Ragnos and the other bearing the colors of Shar Dakhan, landed about a hundred feet away from the large transport from which the soliders of the Iron Throne were actively disembarking. Lightsabers were alight, and his fellows were charging headlong toward the invaders.

There were those in the Clan who stood alongside the Grand Master in his genocide of those labeled as Undesirable. There were those who stood with Sanguinius in protest of the slaughter of the Jedi. There were those who stood on the sidelines, being tied up in their own affairs, caring not either way. Bentre was sure there was even some in the Clan who stood aside because they merely feared the Grand Master’s wrath. Sometimes he even thought that Locke might be among them.

In that moment, it did not matter. They were standing together as a House, as a family to stand against this attack on their home. The commlink on his desk crackled. “Master,” the voice of his old friend hissed over the worn speaker, “the hands of the Iron Throne are pushing us back hard. What are you orders?”

“I need you all to hold on a little longer, Janos. Aexod and the others are vectoring in on your position to provide some support from above.” Three fighters screamed past the office window, flying in tight formation. Two black TIE - Interceptors came in from above the Lion’s Tooth, following quickly on the Warhost pilots.

They way they were flying was akin to a raptor on the hunt, with all the skill and grace of a Tarchalian gazelle. This battle was going to get more ugly quickly. Bentre turned from the window, clutching his personal commlink in hand. “All Dakhani and Warhost, this is Aedile Stahoes. I am on my way down, immediately.” The Sith drew a breath, blinking as he tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach. “We are going to put the screws to these vermin, teach them to try to invade Sepros.

“Master!” The voice of Janos answered back, panic evident in his tone. “Another shuttle has landed. It looks like Atra is leading the Inquisitorius into the field.”

Bentre had to choke back a gasp. This fight was not going to go well. Now brother was plotted against brother, a Sadowan against his fellow Sadowans. The ties of blood would be stressed. Anger burned in his blood at the thought. This was going to be bad. He just hoped that this would not shake loose the close moorings of the Clan.

I tried to reflect the new-canon a bit in my portrayal of this heist. I mean, some of my observations might seem a little too liberal, but I figured a bunch of Jedi investigating and protecting these finds would present more of a challenge and a more interesting story than merely liberating such treasures from some mooks.

“Happy Life Day, Bentre.” A sweet voice rang through the scantily-decorated office. The Sith had always preferred it that way. He lifted his eyes from the flimsiplast and datapads strewn before him, knocking over a nearly empty and long-cold cup of stimcaf as he lifted a hand in slight surprise. Standing in the doorway to his office was the lithe and familiar form of his lover.

“Get out of here, Tash’,” the Corellian grunted, waving a stiff arm in her general direction. The motion drew little more than a playful smile from his fellow Equite. Her hands were behind her back, and there was a child-like bounce in her step as she approached his desk.

“Don’t be that way, *Benny.*” Her eyes sparkled as she used her pet-name for her former rival. His hazel eyes glared back, but her smile did not falter. “I brought you something *special* for the holidays!” Her words were so joy-filled they were practically lyrical. After a few moments of grumpy silence, Bentre’s expression softened ever-so-slightly.

“I get it, you aren’t going to leave me alone until you get to show me what it is.” Stahoes let out a weary sigh. “Look, I have lots of data to review to prepare for my report to the Summit. Not that you would know anything about that. You didn’t spend long enough in command of a Battle Team to do anything.” There was a bitter edge to his voice, which one might mistake for jealousy. It wasn’t only jealousy.

“Your office looks so drab and sad in this festive occasion, *Benny-boo*.” She stressed the last word, her tone becoming mischievous. Her smile grew the smallest bit larger as she brought her cupped hands in front of her. “It needs a little life day cheer!” She placed an object atop the pile of work materials, and stepped back. Now the desk contained datapads, lots of empty stimcaf cups, flimsiplast, and a very out-of-place looking wreath. Red flowers and green berries stood in stark contrast to the bare and utilitarian nature of the office. A matching red and green striped bow held the bottom center of the wreath together.

Letting out a slow sigh, Stahoes allowed himself to recline slightly in his chair. “Is there anything else you wanted as long as you are going to muck up my office space?”

These words seemed to disappoint the Twi’lek for a moment. There was a brief flash of hurt in her eyes. Still, her bubbly mood resurfaced quickly. The Marauder drew a breath, her smile becoming less evident. “I also came to give you something very special, Benny.” The joy in her voice was more subdued now, and there was a very tender untone to the words. As she had so many times before, Tasha’vel Versea drew a blade from the sheathe on her side.

The blade she withdrew was not Vishra’Reyal. Instead it was a more wicked-looking, slightly curved blade. The weapon lacked the exacting grace of the Twi’lek’s usual weapon. It was also decorated with cross-bands of blue and a number of blue gems along the hilt. Near the crossguard, the hilt had been branded with the Versea crest. The stylized profile of a wolf had been laid within the borders of the crest.

“To you, Bentre Stahoes, I want to impart Stavel’Adius. With this gift, I want to offer you a part and parcel to the estates of the esteemed Versea family, and with it a position as a peer and fellow in our clan.”

The Corellian’s eyes widened as the realization of what was going on finally dawned on him. “Wait, are you meaning-”

“Bentre, I want you to join in my clan, in my house, as well as my bed. For all your rough edges, you seem to be a good man. If anything, we cannot allow these little trysts to continue. If you and I are to be together, it must be done in a proper way.” Tasha’vel tenderly placed the weapon on the floor in front of the desk. “You will become the patriarch of the estate in place of my brother. We will be joined together in-”

“Marriage?” Stahoes seemed awed.

“Not exactly in the ways of Humans, but your feelings have already betrayed you.” Jumping across the desk, the Marauder scattered the desk’s contents, and threw her arms around the Shadow. Their lips met, and for the briefest moment, Bentre felt the closest thing to peace he had felt in months. When their lips parted, the Human looked deep into his fellow Sadowan’s emerald eyes.

“It won’t be the most stylish of relationships, I guess. However, I see no reason not to accept both gifts, with all the things they entail.” Bentre gave a rough attempt at a smile, but only ended up looking awkward. There was a long pause, almost stretching into an uncomfortable silence, before the Human spoke again. “So, who do we tell first?”