Manually added by Warrior DarkHawk

He had not spent long in the Brotherhood, all things considered. Still he had to admit he was impressed with how quickly those loyal to the Iron Throne had been to contact him. He knew the Sadowan Overlord and his cronies would be vigilant, but it wasn't going to be enough. Word had already slipped of Jac Cotelin's strike against his old home. Though the Consul and his Jedi dog tried to supress them, rumors were already running rampant that the Orian system would be the Grand Master’s next target.

Night had fallen in the streets of Kel Rasha and even the Sadowan overlords were sleeping at this hour. Reaching into the bag he clutched in his right hand, the man withdrew a small disc. Placing it on the ground, he stepped back. As the device powered up, the miniature form of a human cloaked in the robes of the Grand Master’s Inquisitorius gazed at him.

“Were you followed?” The figure tilted its head up slightly in a show of arrogance, managing to reveal only a clean-shaven lower face. “We already know that many in the Orian System still rebel against Pravus’ rule.”

“Don’t worry, they don’t suspect a thing. The Summit of Naga Sadow is as blind as they are stupid. Despite their rebellion, they would rather to retreat and hide behind so-called *higher ideals*. There are no fighters among them, only cowards behind facades. The Consul would as soon as hide his head in the sand as let the Jedi sacrifice the people of the Orian system. The real losers in this are going to be the Novitates and the Journeyman who blindly follow them."

"What does that make you, Adran?" The barest hint of humor was heard in figure's voice as it leaned forward.

"I am just a practical man." The Loyalist shook his head. “I would rather to spare those we can. If turning over a rogue Jedi and a spineless coward would grant the people of Orian some reprieve, I would gladly turn them over myself.” A cool wind blew threw the street, chilling the human slightly as he spoke the words.

The sound of a throat clearing drew Adran’s attention away from the holoprojector. His eyes grew large as they focused on the tall form of a cloaked figure.

“Is that right?” The Dark Jedi pulled the hood of the cloak back to reveal sharp figures. His eyes were narrowed at the Loyalist. “You would rather to sacrifice a man than to offer up yourself as tribute? I suppose the lives of others are cheaply sold.”

Adran felt as though he were rooted to the ground. Steely-blue eyes bored into him, causing his legs to tremble. “Aedile….O’Maille…..Master…..Sir…..” each of the words fell from his lips with little conviction behind them.

Zachary pointed toward the barracks on the horizon. “Get out of here now, coward and traitor. I will deal with you in the morning.” The holographic projector clicked as the image of the Inquisitor paced back and forth. “I will show you how my people deal with such dereliction of duty. Are you not also a protector of Orian, worm!?”

Lost for words, Adran stiffened to attention, giving a salute. “Sir.” Turning on one foot, the soldier began to jog away.

O’Maille turned to the projector, prodding at the device with his feet. “What would Locke Sonjie think if he knew your people brought something like this here?” The figure did not respond beyond a grimace. “What panic would it raise if he knew doubt had been sewn in our ranks and that our own were turning against him?” The figure reached off to the left, a scowl barely visible.

“Just one moment.” The Sorcerer’s voice dropped. “The man is right about one thing. If sacrificing a coward can spare many more lives it is a worthwhile bargain. Things are sour in this so-called Clan. Perhaps my destiny is calling me away from certain destruction. After all,” he spoke slowly, “wouldn’t it be helpful if you could get information almost directly from the source? I am an Aedile, the protection of my House is paramount. If we can minimize casualties, what is a little betrayal?”

The figure was no smiling cruelly. The contention between the Consul and Proconsul didn’t matter as much to the Corellian now. He had people to protect, and he would not have his path stopped thanks to the foolishness of the Summit. You had to protect family, right?

Manually added by Adept Xen'Mordin Vismorsus-Palpatine

His breaths came in large heaves as the man leaned his shoulder against the wall. The wall was cool to the touch, which gave him some temporary relief. He had never been prepared for all this. The Dark Brotherhood was crazier than he had ever figured, even from what the Markosian Quaestor had told him. He had lost his initial artifact to that blue-eyed Zeltron.

The encounter should have went so much different. Zachary was quicker than she was, he seemed to be stronger than she was. If he had pressed his attack he could have cut her down and taken his prize. The Dark Jedi couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to talk the girl down, however. In the end of it all, it had cost him their little contest. Despite the fact that Ta’var didn’t seem to hold a particular malice toward the Corellian, her desire to win trumped his own.

*Perhaps if I were just able to bring myself to kill, if I could drop these old Jedi-ingrained habits, maybe it would have ended differently. Perhaps that would have granted me the edge I needed.*

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. He had been growing too lax among the likes of the Anzat Quaestor, Marcus Kiriyu and a number of the Sons and Daughters of Sadow he had brushed shoulders with during his tenure in the Clan. If he was not more careful he would end up sacrificing his own morals. His pursuit of his destiny, his obedience to the supposed will of the Force would drive him, but there were some lines he refused to cross.

Drawing a slow breath, Zachary compressed a button on the side of his comm’s transmitter. “This is O’Maille to CNS Mission Command. I repeat, this is Zachary O’Maille, reporting to CNS Mission Command from the surface of Mygeeto. I have a package in my possession. I am requesting extraction.”

The receiver crackled for a moment. “Affirmative, O’Maille. Shuttle Beta-Four is en route to a spot about 2 km north of your current position. Stay safe.”

As he pocketed the comm again, the Sorcerer slid a hand up into his robes. After fishing out for a moment, he withdrew a datapad from within its folds. The device activated with a low hum, projecting a small projection of the terrain. Glancing at his compass, he took a note of the direction, adjusted the device and examined it more closely.

A crack pulled the man’s attention from the device. As the Corellian turned, looking up he saw the sunken cheeks and the barely hidden snarl of a Clawdite peering down at him, with a blaster pistol pointed down at him. The Loyalist motioned at the small box clutched in the Sorcerer’s hand. “Go on now, put it down. This doesn’t have to end messily.”

“Wait,” Zachary scowled, “a Clawdite, wearing Naga Sadow colors who I haven’t met? You have *spy* written all over you. You may want to identify yourself first.”

“I am Aexod Burgoo,” the Clawdite hissed. “You evidently don’t care much for Sapphire Squadron to have not met me.”

“Don’t take it in such poor sport,” O’Maille flashed an insincere smile. As the Clawdite snarled at the man, the Corellian threw out his arm. The lightsaber in his hands flew out in a tight arc, twirling toward his Sadowan opponent and slicing through the blaster in his right hand. Zachary raised his hand, catching the weapon as it returned to him like a boomerang.

Before Burgoo could respond, the Savant turned and began to sprint toward the extraction point. If one of his own House turned on him, he hated to think about the response from the rest of his Clan, not to mention the Palatinae themselves. This was going to be a long day, Force preserve him.

This whole damn day had been kriffing madness. For every time that he thought the Clan was able to gain ground against their betrayers, the Palatinae had pushed them back. Each rumor of artifacts to be recovered had been followed but more often than not his team has been beaten to the punch.

He appreciated the efforts of the Stormwinds, Raistlin and Darkhawk but he wanted a little something more. He wanted to bring something home for his team or barring that he wanted something he could bring home. He was sure that he was making his team nervous walking so deep into the midst of battle The Force had led them here, it would lead him home if he only had faith.

Crouching down, the Corellian planted a hand down so he could slip down to one knee. With much of the base in ruins, some pieces had been pinned in between bits of fallen ceiling and broken debris. Most of the pieces discovered had been damaged or utterly broken. The odds were not in his favor.
As he examined a gap in the wall, he took a breath. Trying to surpress a feeling of dread, he poked his head into the gap. A number of structures had collapsed under their own weight after sustaining damage. Every attempt was a gamble.

At first, he saw nothing within the opening. However as his eyes adjusted , the man saw a dim patch of light reflecting off an object. It was an ornate looking gauntlet.

Zachary imagined tracing a finger along the gauntlet for a moment. Even from this distance, he could sense the power exuding from it. Each step brought him closer. While the pirates routed and his comrades fought off the Palatinae he would just simply swoop in and grab it.

With it he would sweep aside the darkness from his dreams, push back the betrayers and finally prove his worth to Sonjie. It was only a small step along a long path. Reaching out, he imagined the sensation of the cold surface brushing against his skin as he coaxed it upward through the Force. Slowly the object floated toward his open hands.

Suddenly, the gauntlet came to a dead stop. Stretching out in the Force, O’Maille imagined closing his fingers around it, and pulled his hand back hard. The glove jerked in the air toward him slightly, but as soon as he relaxed, it began to float sideways.

As he did so, he heard something whistle through the air. Twisting his body, he saw something small and short fly just past him, clattering against the wall beside him. His concentration on the gauntlet was broken. The glove shot into a shadowed spot off to his right, where a barely visible figure was crouched.

“Who is there?” The question was harsh, the Savant’s voice laced with barely-contained anger. His eyes darted back and forth wildly. As his pupils focused, they came to rest upon the figure of the Zeltron as she palmed the gauntlet. He felt his heart flutter for the briefest of moments, as she was every bit as lovely as many others of her species. He quashed the response very quickly, however.

Instead, he ignited his lightsaber with a crackle. He raised the weapon to a point parallel to the ground and level with his chest, pointing it at the woman. “Identify yourself immediately or I will be forced to deal with you like I would any Palatinae or pirate scum.” The Corellian’s tone was low, and he hoped came across menacing.

“Is this what I get for letting Lilith go- threats and menacing?” The Zeltron raised her lightsaber and ignited it, casting a red light in contrast with the green light cast by her opponent's lightsaber.

“So you are Blade?” Zachary drew back his lightsaber slightly, shifting his stance so his weight was leaned forward on his left foot. “I have read a little about you after your wretched lot tried to kill ours.” The man rolled his shoulders back as he spoke. “I will try to end things quickly and be on my way.”