Tucked inside the Anvil was a chamber utilized by one of Clan Vizsla's chief advisors and head of the Zsoldos Intelligence Division.

From the banners of Mandalorian origin, technocratic symbolism had been woven into the tapestries that hung on either side of a seat lined with glowing buttons and view screens. Yet, it wasn't out of mockery that these banners were created, quite the contrary. It was a collective, a cohesion that operated for the betterment of the Clan. Even though Zor Gron walked outside the lines of Mandalorian culture even while immersed in it, he remained loyal to the cause and secretly used these warriors for self-advancement. Conspiring for power beyond what could be comprehended by those incapable of tapping into the mysterious Force.

However, this same chamber served a sinister dual purpose.

"Sir, we need those shipments!" A diplomat from King's Dawn slammed a fist into the palm of his hand in a vain attempt to show dominance and authority.

The wrinkled flesh of the Skakoan appeared to glow beneath the lighting of his seat and his pressurized suit groaned and hissed as it pumped vital nutrients and gas into his body. A translator flashed as a string of unintelligible words were translated into what could best be described as a robotic tone.

"Your assertiveness is born out of dependency, Senator," Zor showed no emotion as he addressed those in attendance. "I encourage you to rethink your position and urge you to consider changing your tone when speaking to me. Your shipment will arrive on time."

"Th-thank you, sir."

Remaining motionless, even after the trembling bow from the diplomat, the Skakoan's mind was alive with thought as he soaked in the fear emanating from those slithering through the doorway. The need to partake in an addiction turned obsession overwhelmed him so much that his analytical droid, a JN-66 picked up on it.

"Master, if you need to step away, I can handle matters here."

Gron stood to his feet and lurched forward without skipping a beat as the flickering red light in his cranial cybernetic sped up, anticipating the satisfaction that stemmed from dabbling in his dark secret. Few knew that he was in fact a practitioner of the Sith arts, a powerful Force User that desired power through mechanized dominion, possessing creations infused with Darkside energies. Stepping behind his throne of privilege, the cybernetic arm attached to his armor craned over his right shoulder and the claw clamped onto a series of holes in the wall and twisted open a lock that released a seal in what was seemingly a wall panel.

As the door slid open, a cold and noxious air oozed out of a dimly lit corridor. The room beyond was filled with methane. Not only was it comfortable for him and allowed him to walk freely without his pressurized suit. But had the room ever been infiltrated, to breathe in the toxins would mean death to most species. Lining the walls were an assortment of tubes and dim red lights that reflected off of the eerie fog that swirled throughout the chamber as he walked by. The contents of a variety of beakers, vials, and test tubes rippled as lines fed unknown fluids into them. Computer terminals cut through the dense darkness and as the corridor opened up into a larger room, four bacta tanks contained abnormal creatures at various stages of growth and maturity.

Overhead, seemingly endless chatter echoed through his domicile. Communication feeds from those who constantly fed intelligence updates. To the ordinary being, this chaos would be maddening and stressful. To Zor Gron it was merely fuel for his inner furnace. A furnace that burned hotter than his dark forge lined with ancient alchemical runes.

He sunk into a black chair, worn from use, and glanced at the far wall which was decorated with the lightsabers of fallen Jedi, trophies he had plucked from their lifeless bodies. While he had a basic understanding of how to wield them. Taking time to hone his skills with such an archaic weapon was considered a waste of time when compared to the unfathomable power one could attain from fully immersing oneself in the Darkside.

Whirring around, his cybernetic armor attachment clamped down on his mask and with a hiss, the pressure of his suit was released and his mask was pulled free. A toothless maw opened wide as he took a deep breath and his eyelids slid open to reveal burning golden eyes. It was time to get to work.

A panic-stricken woman, child in tow, rounded a smoldering building. Her hair was dark and tears welled up just beneath her magnificently blue irises. Her child cried and held onto her head with one hand as the ruby red fingertips showed through the constriction of her mother's embrace.

She exuded a sigh of relief as familiarity amidst calamity blanketed her. A man ran up to her as he climbed over the remnants of a casino wall littering the street. Before he could utter a word she hugged him and firmly pressed her lips to his.

"Daddy!" The little girl exclaimed through sobs as she hugged him tight.

"Wh-where were you, how did you get awa-?"

She led him into the quietest alley she could find and the group sank to one knee.

"I-it was incredible. I had no idea what was happening. Sadie and I were walking down the street and all of a sudden-"

=======

It was an ordinary night. Stirring of high-ranking members of a mysterious organization meeting in Canto Bight had been the talk of the town. Sadie was hungry and it was late so cooking was out of the question. Her favorite Mantell Mix stand was still open. You know Herun stays open all hours, that Ithorian never closes shop. So I took Sadie to get a snack.

Then it began to rain neon beams that obliterated or set fire to whatever they touched. It was a bombardment that nobody saw coming. The visitors brought death and destruction with them. It was chaos. Borl didn't make it, his family was trapped inside the wreckage of the Seaworth Apartment Complex. It's completely destroyed. The whole east street strip was laid to waste. As if that wasn't bad enough, dropships came. They carried troopers spouting some strange message. If you didn't agree or showed any sign of resistance there was no hearing, they just gunned you down. Three of them approached Sadie and I when we were heading back home. They cut us off and tried to separate us.

=======

"Yeah, then what?" The man eagerly questioned his wife.

"Did you do what they said?"

"I didn't have a chance to utter a single word."

The man twisted his head and raised a brow.

"One of them reached out to grab me but he froze in place and dropped to his knees right in front of me. When he fell to his stomach he had something sticking out of his back. It looked like an ornate skeleton in a seductive pose."

"What??"

"I-it was a handle, a dagger maybe. I don't know, it happened so fast. The other two fired their rifles into the night, all I could see were glowing purple eyes, piercing the black. He was like a phantom."

"A phantom?"

"Th-they kept firing, I saw this as a chance to get away but one of the men grabbed me and planted the barrel of a pistol against my temple. They demanded that the man in the dark show himself.. they were going t-"

She began to cry.

"He didn't let them. He stepped out of the shadow. His armor was as black as the darkness he used as cover and the purple lights brightly twinkled from pauldrons that looked like the heads of dogs."

"What did he do?"

"He walked up to them with his hands out as if he was going to surrender. Then I heard… I'll never forget the sound. It was the croak of a bird, like a caw. Like a streaking entity a bird swooped down causing the man holding me to momentarily lower his weapon. As he did, the phantom drew a pistol from beneath his long black cape and before I knew what was happening, purple beams streaked past my face and I no longer felt the man gripping me but I heard him fall. Frightened, the other invader began to run but the phantom threw something. A rope maybe?"

"A rope?"

"Yes, a rope. It wrapped around the soldier's ankle as he tried to get away but he couldn't, he just fell. Then this mysterious stranger began dragging him closer and closer as the trooper clawed at the ground. Then…"

"Then what?" her husband was entranced.

"The phantom ended him with one swift stroke. I remember seeing blood dripping from the blackened blade of some kind of curved sword. He then turned to me and with the deepest voice I think I ever heard, almost robotic in tone, he told me I was safe and to go home. My Savior, a man in black, I wanted to thank him. I never even saw his face. As quickly as he showed up, he vanished."

"Like a ghost?"

"You could say that, yeah, a ghost."

"Come on, we need to get to the shuttles, they're evacuating as we speak."

The thrill of war fades
A breeze washes over me
Peace is what remains

"I heard it, boyo, with me own ears!" The animated Galvan shouted as he slammed his robotic arm down onto the table.

"Easy, Starfist. Let's say I believe you. What do you want ME to do about it?" Gui lazily sunk back into his chair.

"Ya know, a Jedi would want to take care of this. They're all about helping us less fortunate folk."

"I'm not a Jedi. Not anymore." Gui grumbled. "Besides, even if the Consuls are conspiring to steal your barrels of Bestine Port, maybe you cutting back isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"Listen here, mate." Galvan's face had become more serious than it had ever been before. "No one, I mean NO one, touches me booze."

"Look, pal, I'm not sure what you even want me to do abou-"

Gui was abruptly cut-off as Galvan spun around in the Gilded Lady, one of Canto Bight's premiere Cantinas and began to shout. His chest pumping with anger and adrenaline.

The upper-class patrons all turned, most completely oblivious to what the short but stout fellow was even yammering about.

"I dare any one of you karking gutter womps to touch me supply!"

"Galvan-" Gui tried to settle the turbulent chest thumper.

"I'll break off your fingers an' feed'em to the -"

Gui rolled his eyes and sighed. He didn't understand half of what Starfist was going on about either. The colorful language was certainly not helping matters. As he processed the dialogue through his mental codex of basic slang intertwined with choice phrases that were more than likely, corellisi in origin. A tubby gambler stood from his seat and rolled the dice when he shouted "Sit down and shut up, you little worrt!"

"Oh no…" Gui's thoughts became audible.

"What did you just say to me?" Galvan stomped up to the foolish drunkard. "What. Did you just say to me?" he growled, driving his cybernetic finger into the Zeltron's gut.

"I said." The Zeltron bent at the waist nearly pressing his nose against Galvan's. "Sit down and shut u-" Galvan erupted like a mustafarian geyser and roared as he reached up and grabbed the man by the nape. With all the strength packed into his tiny frame he tugged down, driving the forehead of the Zeltron into the table, pinning him there.

He grumbled more swear words into the Zeltron's face as the Cantina imploded with aggression. A mug smashed into the back of Galvan's head, rattling him only momentarily as he drew his Powerhammer from his back and wound it above his head before cracking the foolish Rodian attacker in the hip. A rodese squeal was followed by the sound of shattering glass as he fell into the bar.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!!" Gui shouted as he stumbled back, twisted around, and seemingly danced away from chaotic hammer swings. All the while he commanded Galvan to end his rampage.

Patrons screamed as the less confrontational folk either ran out or lined the walls to get a front row seat for the drama unfolding before their very eyes.

"These people aren't stealing your liquo-" Gui tried but to no avail as Galvan ran forward and planted a foot onto the seat of a chair, propelling himself into a knee strike that would connect with the jaw of an encroaching Trandoshan.

Starfist land and huffed with anger as those who were going to attempt apprehension stopped and threw their hands up as they backed away.

Just then, bursting through the doors was a security task force with Korvis and Juda Graves leading the charge. It wasn't long before word reached their ears as they deliberated with the other Consul's outside. The commotion could have awakened the dead.

"What's going on here!" Korvis shouted.

Galvan growled as he locked eyes with Selika Roh standing behind Juda and Korvis.

"You!" Galvan shouted. "I heard you wanna steal me Port you wen-"

"Easy, Blacksmith." She stepped forward. "I'm not some drunken bar-fly to be trifled with." She said coldly.

Galvan stammered.

"What's this about stealing your supply?" Korvis spoke up.

"You, she, you all were."

"We were what?" Juda chimed in.

"Uhh, he said you were going to rob him." Gui butted in.

Juda looked from Gui to Galvan.

"Rob you?" He groaned. "You moron, we were going to PAY you for your drink. We thought a celebration after the games was the least we could do."

"Pay." Galvan huffed. "Pay me?"

"Yes, pay you. Just like you're going to pay the owner here for any damages you may have caused." Korvis looked around. "Judging by the state of this bar. This has become a very expensive misunderstanding."

"Told ya so." Gui grinned.

"Told me, you din't tell me any-"

"Clean it up!" Juda stepped forward. He was one of the few that Galvan actually listened to. "Pay the man." He pointed to the owner of the bar. "Bring the barrels of Port to the assembly by tomorrow." He commanded before turning to smooth things over with the
Security that stood eager to crack down on Galvan with their stun batons.

Starfist felt smaller than his stature.

"Sure thing boss." He spat before shooting the grinning Gui a wicked look.

Manually added by Prophet Dacien Victae