Defining Moments – The Ghoul

Usharak Keep
Planet Kangaras

The YT1300 freighter touched down in the centre of the clearing in front of the keep. After a few moments the ramp slid down and a robed figure left. She drew back her cloak and looked up at the structure in front of her. Preserved down through the ages by what was now unknown methods, the keep was largely in tact and the metal gate at the front of its dark grey walls looked solid. Slowly she made her way forward, looking for signs of life. Clan Naga Sadow had once had a base here, and before that the True Brotherhood had made it's home here, but that was long ago. Now it was mostly forgotten by both members of Clan and Brotherhood alike.
She paused, sensing something unnatural in the force and looked around her at the jungle that surrounded the clearing. With the amount of life around her it was hard to discern exactly what it was. Then suddenly her hand went for her lightsaber as many red dots covered her body, moving like insects across her robes increasing in number. Slowly she saw a number of small, dark furred creatures emerge from the trees and undergrowth around her, making their way towards her with blasters raised, their dark shining eyes boring into her with a combination of menace and curiosity. She kept her hand on her saber hilt for a second, and then slowly released her grip and raised both. She glanced over at the sound of a metallic grating noise as the metal gate began to rise, and from beneath it another black robed figure strode. He stopped, taking in view of her, her ship, and the Sith-spawned ewoks holding both prisoner.

“Get these creatures away from me!” Ashia told him harshly.
Malisane looked around and calmly raised a hand, then made a gesture. Slowly and still watching the Pro Consul suspiciously, the ewoks backed off into the trees, and after a few seconds were gone. “There you go,” he replied quietly.
She did her best to contain her anger, “Those aberrations should have been destroyed years ago.”
The Battelord shrugged, “Many demanded that be so but sense prevailed. They have served their purpose over the years. And like this planet and myself for a time they have passed from the Brotherhood's consciousness.”
He turned and led her through the gate. “Why here?” she asked as they passed through into the hall, where torches illuminated the dark stone.
Malisane glanced back at her, “You wanted somewhere private, this is private. Even I have not been back here for a decade.”
He lead her to a small room off the hallway where a pair of chairs sat in front of a burning fire. The room was clean which surprised her. Two glasses and a bottle sat on a small table. “The ewoks maintain the keep even if we are gone. I suspect they will continue down through the centuries until someone stops them. Even I do not understand their behaviour sometimes.” He removed his helmet as he sat down, revealing his burned and disfigured features.
Ashia was used to them after all the years since his accident. “I see,” she replied taking an offered glass once he had poured. A smooth taste followed by a burning sensation in her throat and a shock surging through her body revealed it to be the nearly lethal liquor brewed by the ewoks themselves.
“So why the secret meeting Pro Consul?” Malisane asked.
Ashia studied him as she took another sip. “The Summit have a task we would like you to undertake.”
“I see. So why the secrecy?”
She studied him. “This task is of a,” she paused, “delicate nature.”
“They usually are,” he replied, “the Summit never asks me to do anything straightforward.”
“This is more delicate than normal.”

She glanced at the fire, then back at him. “You missed the Dark Crusade did you not?”
“You already know the answer to that question.”
“Yes,” she replied, “and no doubt you have read the accounts and heard the stories?”
“Obviously.”
She reached down and poured herself another glass then sipped it. “How can I put this? You've been in enough wars over the years to know that beyond the official accounts other things happen that were judged to be acceptable at the time but later would be seen as less so.”
Malisane's eyes met hers, occasionally blinking with his dark embedded lenses. “I sense there is a point coming somewhere in the future.”
She scowled. “Very well. During the Crusade Clan Naga Sadow used certain strategies against the Jedi, against the other Clans, and against anyone else the leadership thought would hamper its efforts and its goals. They were subtle, they were carried out across a wide number of units so that no pattern would emerge, and for the best part no one put together the pieces.”
“We are a Sith clan,” he replied, “I do not see a problem?”
“The nature of what was done exceeds simple intrigue. As you know the Clan has conducted a lot of research over the years, and have gained a lot more from organisations and people we have encountered in the past and developed. Most of it is not known to the wider Brotherhood or indeed many of our own Clan.”
“I see,” Malisane replied, “I am aware of some of it.”
“What was done during the war was the work of various older factions in the Clan that are for the best part no longer present. And the current Summit did not find out until recently the extent of what was done. And the likely future consequences.”
The Battlelord considered this. “I'm still not seeing the point?”

She took another sip. “If this were to come out it would greatly damage the Clan in the wider Brotherhood, perhaps even amongst our own members. The Brotherhood is not what it was when you left, it is now a finer balance than before amongst the Light and Dark side of the force, and following the recent war our star is in its ascendency. If the truth were to become known we can only guess what the reaction would be.”
“So make sure it does not.”
“We tried. Unfortunately we have learned that the Inquisitorious have obtained evidence that we would struggle to counter.”
“I see,” he replied again, “so what now?”
“We have a stroke of luck,” she told him, “to contain the information across even their own ranks until they have investigated it their leaders have decided not to transmit it over the AIN. Instead the data is being held under guard in a small facility until it can be collected and handed over to their Director and the Voice. This is where you come in.”
Malisane's eyes bore into her own. “And how exactly do I come in?”
“You are to go to the facility, retrieve the data and destroy any evidence by whatever means necessary.”
“You want me to raid the Inquisitorious?”
“We do,” she replied, “I can not begin to describe how vital this is to our Clan.” She took another drink of the firey liquor. “We have decided that you are our best option.”
“Why?”
“There are several reasons. You have no friends or allies in the Clan or elsewhere in the Brotherhood to share this with. You are deniable, if you get caught then you are a rogue member who returned recently and we were unaware of your actions. And you have an uncanny ability of getting things done in ways people would not suspect possible.”
“I see,” he replied non committally.
“We can not order you to do this,” she told him.
“The Summit can not order me to do anything any more,” he replied with a grim twist of his ripped upper lip, “very well, I will do as you wish.”

Inquisitorious Listening Post
Planet Tyvell

Chief Inquisitorious Varalis entered the monitoring room holding his coffee and looked around it slowly. Usually it was a hive of activity, with sensor data from countless probes in nearby systems relaying and analysing data through the AIN as it was shunted up the chain to command. Now it was quiet with only one member on duty. He could sense the communications shut down was puzzling and unsettling many of his crew, and he knew the rumours were flying around. He was curious himself the orders have been opaque though the higher ups had stressed the seriousness of it to him. “Everything alright?”
“All quiet boss,” Inquisitor Mylis replied from her station, “systems functioning normally and all that, aside from most of them being switched off.”
He nodded. “Keep an eye out for the transport they're sending,” he told her.
“Yes boss.”
He sat down in a chair and sipped his coffee as he idly looked at the few local systems that were on. Then he frowned as a light began to flash. “What's that?”
Mylis looked at the monitor. “Ship entering the atmosphere boss,” she said studying the display, “registers as a GX1 hauler. Not one of our vessels.”
“Put it on screen.”
The display changed to show a view of the atmosphere above, and focused to reveal the approaching ship. It was descending at speed, a long trail of smoke emitting behind it. “They're in bother boss,” Mylis reported, “looks like they're struggling to control it, their descent is erratic. I think they're trying to bring it down.”
“Track it's descent and scramble a rescue unit.”
“Yes boss,” she replied as she tapped at her console. They watched as the hauler erratically continued it's descent, the amount of smoke increasing. Finally it flew down over the tree tops before it hit the ground in an empty clearing a mile from their location, bouncing several times before coming to a stop, flames beginning to emerge from it. “Rescue crew have location and are imbound in two minutes.”
“Good,” he replied, “if they're alive lets see who they are.”

As the speeder descended into the smoky clearing the crew studied the crashed ship. Whatever fire suppression systems were still functioning had done their job, but the ship was a wreck. Quickly the two suited medics left the craft and made their way to the ship. One quickly attached a device to the hatch and after a few seconds it opened emitting more smoke. After a few moments they carried out a black armoured figure, carefully lowering him to the ground near their speeder. They removed his helmet and both recoiled briefly at his damaged features, before running a medical scanner over him. After a few seconds they were satisfied and carried him into the back of the speeder, before slowly taking off back to their base.

Varalis made his way into the medical suite past the two armoured guards and watched as the staff busied themselves over the mysterious pilot. Finally one of them detached himself and made her report. “The patient is conscious sir,” she reported, “he does not seem to have sustained any major injuries aside from a few bruises though he is in shock. He shows major past injuries though some of the worst I've seen but physically he seems fine. We've been able to ask him a few questions and check his identity.”
Varalis nodded. “Who is he?”
“He's one of ours sir, or nearly he's an Apprentice IV. More accurately his name is Malisane Sadow, of Clan Naga Sadow. His identity checks out in the databank.”
Varalis frowned. He did not recognise the name, but the pilot was a Clan name holder and in all probability a force user. What was he doing here?
“You can speak to him sir, we're finished with him.”
“Good.” He walked forward and studied the pilot who had two bands securing his wrists to the bed for safety purposes. The medic had not understated the description the man had intense scarring on his face and bald head, with a hole where his nose should be, a ripped lip and ears and within two uncovered eyes integral black lenses occasionally blinked. Seemingly aware of the scrutiny, the man's head turned slowly to regard the Chief Inquisitor. “We have a number of questions for you,” Varalis announced.
“That is not unreasonable,” the man replied slowly.
“Reasonable or not is academic,” the Inquisitor replied, “who are you and what are you doing here?”
The man's gaze returned to the ceiling. “I have already identified myself. I am Sith Battlelord Malisane Sadow of Clan Naga Sadow. And as you are no doubt aware my ship crashed.”
Varalis moved closer. “You can do better than that Battlelord. This is an Inquisitorious facility. What business have you coming here?”
“I was not coming here,” Malisane replied, “I was on my Clan's business when my ship's systems failed. I needed somewhere to land. This was all that was available.”
“And what business was that?”
The scarred head turned back and the eyes regarded the Inquisitor. The torn lip sneered. “My Clan's business is exactly that. We do not discuss it with outsiders, even the Inquisitorious.”
Varalis was not one to be intimidated or put of with evasion. “Do not give me that. We have searched what is left of your ship. You were carrying what appear to be routine supplies. That does not fit well in my mind.”
“Why?”
“I am aware of the Sons of Sadow, we have files. Like many of the older Clan members they are not known for undertaking supply missions. So you can appreciate why this does not look quite right, can you not?”
“We all serve where we are able,” Malisane replied, “perhaps I crave the solitude? Perhaps we take routine supplies to places that are not routine? Whatever the case may be I have stated my identity and my circumstances. Unless you have a proper reason to hold me, release me and if it is not too much trouble I would appreciate assistance returning to my Clan.”
“I will release you when I am satisfied,” Varalis replied, “you may have some weight in your own Clan, but the Inquisitorious serve the Dark Council and this is our facility. If you are dissatisfied later you can register a complaint with the correct authorities.” He turned and left.

Outside Varalis met Inquisitor Mylis met him in the corridor. “Well boss?”
“He is as unhelpful as I would expect,” he replied, “the irritating thing is he is correct we can not hold him indefinitely. If he is as senior in his Clan it would get political, unless we find actual evidence against him.”
She nodded. “We have his droid under guard as well.”
“Have we got anything from that?”
“No boss,” she replied, “it's shut down and is resisting any attempts to reactivate it. We've fitted a restraining bolt to it.”
“Good.” Varalis wiped his hand over his eyes. “Have them release his bonds but double his guard. If necessary we can contain one force user. We'll keep him confined to the medical bay. Once the lockdown is lifted we'll send him back to his Clan.”
“Okay boss.”
“I suppose we'd better feed him as well.”

As night began to fall the facility which was already mostly shut down went even quieter, the day shift heading to their quarters and the skeleton night shift taking over. Malisane waited patiently in the medical bay under the watchful gaze of the silent armoured guards. In the night sky above a black object moved through the heavens, it's cloaking systems hidden from even the sophisticated detection of the listening post. Slowly it made it's way down and landed in another clearing on the other side of the facility from the crash site.
A short while later Inquisitor Kerris made her way through the trees, holding her blaster rifle low as she looked through the night vision of her helmet. She was idly talking on her communicator on a private channel. “You're going to what?”
A man's voice came back. “I've told you, I've applied to join one of the Clans. There's a new one called Vizla, they accept all who meet the requirements. I'm not leaving the Inquisitorious you can have a dual allegiance. I might see a bit more action with them. And the benefits are amazing. You should consider it.”
She smiled under her helmet. “I might do if they give us something more interesting than patrol on some remote planet.” She paused as her helmet detected movement nearby. “I'm picking something up Volna. Going to investigate it.”
“Acknowledged.”
She moved forward cautiously, holding her rifle ready. There was nothing unusual in her field of vison, the display updating her with information. She stopped for a few seconds looking around her. Then pain burst through her as a sharp object was pushed up from behind her into the small of her back, cutting through armour and flesh easily. She collapsed to the ground as blood bubbled up from her mouth. As her life faded away her communicator sounded again. “Kerris report,” Volna's voice asked, “wait there's something here too but I can't see anything....” before his voice went silent.

In the medical bay Malisane sat silently, his arms by his side and his palms resting on the bed. The processed meal they had given him had been basic but sustaining. Idly his gaze turned to the time display on the far wall. He noticed one of the guards watching him and his ripped lip twisted up in a slight smile.

In a nearby room the black astromech droid, Zero, suddenly emitted a couple of red lights that began to flash as it powered up, unnoticed by the guards stood outside. It scanned it's systems then detected the restraining bolt. After a few seconds there was a slight crackle of energy across it's surface and the bolt dropped to the ground with a slight thud.

In the monitoring room Inquisitor Trommac sat at his console. He frowned and turned to his companion on the night shift. “Something odd here, we've lost contact with the patrols.”
The woman turned, “Communications error?”
“I'm not sure,” he replied, “the system reports as normal. I've tried several channels.”
She looked at her screen. “We're detecting movement outside the main door.”
Trommac nodded. “Switching to outside cameras.” He moved the view to the main screen and they studied it as the camera switched through several views. “There,” he pointed.
“Looks like some sort of creature. It's hard to make out. Magnifying.” They did and both sat up in surprise at what they saw. “It's holding something.” Suddenly there was a flash on the screen and from outside an explosion rocked the base.

As the alarms began to sound and Inquisitorious members rushed to respond Malisane watched as the four guards reacted. The leader glanced at the two nearest the Sith. “Guard him. You with me.” Malisane sat calmly as the two remaining guards backed away from him, blasters raised as they half watched him and the door where a shimmering barrier had formed behind the other guards.. He waited a few seconds then quickly raised his arms lashing out with the force, sending the guards sprawling to crash into nearby benches and the wall. Standing Malisane reached out and plucked one of the blaster rifles through the air to land in his hand. Calmly shooting the enemies who were struggling to rise he moved forward and focused on the barrier, extending his free hand. He smashed against it with the force and it flickered and then faded. Without a glance behind him he stepped out into the corridor.

Chief Inquisitor Varalis ran quickly down the corridor towards the main entrance, hastily buttoning his shirt as he held his blaster pistol in his hand. He turned the corner and surveyed the scene. Several of his troops were crouched or hiding in open doorways on either side of the corridor engaging what appeared to be a huddled mass of black creatures outside the ruined doors, who in turn were fighting back. It was hard to determine with the light inside and dark outside but the invading forces were just visible enough. He calmly ducked for cover behind a convenient table. He raised his hand and clicked a button on his communicator to link into to tannoy system. “This is Chief Inquisitor Varalis. We are under attack by hostile forces. All personnel report to the main entrance area for deployment.” With luck and strategy they could repel the creatures by positioning and weight of numbers.

Zero moved forward, the assassin droid scanning for enemies. The guards outside had left to join the fighting. It rolled down the corridor seeking it's master or opponents. It stopped sensing for a few seconds, then turned left down a corridor and immediately stopped again as it saw two unarmoured personnel moving carefully down the corridor, blasters raised as they moved forward. Zero extended it's main blaster and fired twice in quick succession. It revolved 180 degrees at the sound of movement behind itself and then paused. Malisane walked forward towards it, and raised a hand. “Give.” The droid immediately opened a small hatch and the Sith plucked the saber hilt out of the air as it fired upwards. He ignited it at the sound of running behind them and attacked three unsuspecting Inquisitors who paused in surprise at the appearance of the Sith. Two fell twitching to the ground with fatal injuries before a blaster bolt seared past Malisane's side killing the third. The Battlelord spun around. “Careful.” The droid emitted a sonorous deep tone in response. “Come with me.”

Varalis directed his troops, firing over the table top at the enemies outside. Several of his force lay dead on the floor and he had no way of knowing how many outside had fallen. His confidence was beginning to waver slightly, if the force outside was small then they could repel the enemy, but it seemed unlikely they would risk a frontal attack without reasonable numbers. He heard more of his staff approaching from behind and gave a grim smile.

Malisane stopped at the sound of blaster fire and then slowly looked around the next turn. Inquisitorious forces were mainly ducked in side doorways but several had now dragged objects into the corridor making a barrier and crouched amongst it, adding to the defending force. He glanced down at Zero. “Act when I do.” He moved around the turn and then reached out a hand and focused, electricity arcing from his finger tips, hitting the nearest soldier and then crackling across to his nearest companions. With another tone Zero rounded the corner, weapon ready and fired. A small rocket homed in on the stunned soldiers and exploded amongst them, blasting them and the barrier. Through the smoke Malisane could make out the enemy turning at the explosion and he moved forward as they did, lashing out with his telekenesis or saber as the droid followed him shooting it's blaster at anything in sight.

Varalis gasped at the sounds behind him, and then at a new threat as the enemy outside stormed the building, black furry creatures bursting into the light firing at anything they could see, ignoring any fire towards them as several fell twitching and more scrambled over them. Varalis rose shooting his blaster at them, trying to decide where to go in the doorways around him. His eyes narrowed when his gaze ascended on the Sith, whose white saber was raised in his hand and their eyes met. Malisane raised his hand and Varalis felt a powerful and invisible punch in his stomach doubling him over as he collapsed gasping. As he fought for breath he could just make out the black creatures moving past him, moving into the rooms and subduing the weakening defenders.

Malisane nodded in satisfaction as his forces prodded several of the survivors into the monitoring room with their pikes, growling menacingly. The rest of the survivors were being herded into a nearby canteen while the creatures scoured the remainder of the building. Slowly Varalis kneeled, his hands behind his head, noting that Inquisitors Mylis and Trommac were either side of him. Angrily he regarded the Sadow. “How can you do this?” he demanded, “you are one of us.”
Malisane regarded him coolly. “My first loyalty is to Sadow. Now you will give my droid the access code to your computer system.”
Varalis spat. “We would die first. We are Inquisitorious, and we are not afraid of you.”
Malisane nodded. “Admirable,” he replied. He glanced at the creatures who stood surrounding the prisoners armed with blasters or wickedly sharpened pikes. “You have the largest information database in the Brotherhood. These are the Sith-spawned ewoks.” He sneered, his torn lip revealing his broken teeth. “Look them up.”

Malisane waited while Zero streamed the data from the computer bank. Varalis knelt with his eyes closed, smelling the blood and fluids of the two mangled corpses either side of him as the ewoks pressed their pikes to either side of his chest, cutting in slightly causing a sharp pain either side. Finally the droid emitted a tone. Malisane nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Now prime the reactor.”
“No!” Varalis gasped before Malisane nodded and the two pikes sliced into his chest, filling his lungs with blood before he fell dying. The Battlelord glanced at the largest ewok and made a gesture, and the creature emitted a noise that was half animal and half metallic. From the room down the corridor the sound of blaster fire and screams emitted, and then silence. “We will leave now.” The chief ewok emitted another noise then lead his forces out, joining the others leaving the building through the ruined doors. Malisane and Zero followed.

Ten minutes later and with his forces aboard and preparing their dead for burial later, Malisane piloted the Lancer pursuit craft into the sky, rising above the treetops. As the craft made for the atmosphere he turned on the rear view just in time to see the facility explode in a burn of flames and rubble, scattering over a wide area. Satisfied the Sith waited then made the jump to hyperspace.

Usharak Keep
Kangaras
The Next Day.

Ashia made her way down the YT1300's ramp once again to find the Battlelord and the droid waiting for her outside the keep.
“We had news through channels of your,”she paused, “success. You have the data?”
Malisane nodded and handed her a data disk. “The only copy.”
The Pro Consul glanced at the droid. “Really?”
“I have no need for it,” Malisane replied.
“Good. Our business is done then. You may want to maintain a low profile, for a while at least.” She turned to walk back to her ship.
“Pro Consul,” he called to her.
She turned. “Yes?”
“Certain notions will no doubt have occurred to you about loose ends, and you may already have plans in place. Do not underestimate me.”
She smiled at him. “I do not,” she replied, “and so long as you are useful you have nothing to concern yourself with. Good day.”
He watched as her craft rose and left then turned towards the keep.

For Sadow! For Sadow!
Our battle cry,
For Sadow! For Sadow!
We do or we die.

For Glory! For Glory!
With all our might,
For Glory! For Glory
We will win the fight.

For Honour! For Honour!
Together we go,
For Honour! For Honour!
We will slay the foe.

For Victory! For Victory!
Cowardice is a sin,
For Victory! For Victory!
Go forward and win!

Evaluation Time

Pelta Class Frigate Light of Orian
Naga Sadow Migrant Fleet

Malisane was sat on an uncomfortable metal chair outside the Quaestor's office. He was irritated. He glanced at the time displace on his wrist communicator. It was five minutes past the appointment time. Finally the door opened and Battlelord Jades Sadow left the office and smiled grimly as she saw her fellow Sadow. “You're in next?” she asked.
Malisane nodded. “How was it?”
“Hard going,” she replied, “I'll be in the bar if you're heading down after. You might want to.”
Before he could reply the Quaestor also left the office. “Ah Malisane. Come in.”
Malisane sat in the chair opposite the House Leader's desk. DarkHawk sat as his desk and clicked the terminal in front of him. “Thank you for coming. How are you?”
“I am fine,” Malisane replied with a shrug.
“Good, good,” DarkHawk replied. He glanced at the screen. “So I see you filled in your personal evaluation which is great, so we'll just look at see what you put. Is that ok?”
Malisane shrugged. “I suppose.”
“So Question One. 'How has the last six months been? Are there any particular highs and lows you have experienced and have we seen the best from you?', and you put. “It has been alright'. Is there anything you could like to add to that?”
“Not really no,” Malisane replied, “the war went okay, we won.”
“Well that's great.” The Quaestor replied, “Anything else?”
“No.”

Darkhawk scrolled the screen down. “Question Two, 'Are you living the Clan's values? Please give specific examples of your commitment to our Equality and Diversity and Staff Engagement policies and how they help you in your role.' and your response was 'Yes'”
Malisane nodded. “Yes.”
The Quaestor gave him a patient look. “Have you read the policies and taken them on board?”
Malisane shrugged. “I'm aware we have policies.”
“Well if you remember from the House meeting earlier this year we're committed to giving everyone the same opportunities regardless of personal ability, species or their own personal belief in aspects of the force to achieve their potential, and creating a wider understanding amongst the members can achieve this. As you're probably aware the Shadow Academy offers a wide range of courses to improve your knowledge.”
Malisane thought, “I did the Species Studies course a few months ago.”
DarkHawk beamed. “To achieve a greater understanding of other members?”
“No I needed the credit for a Savant Degree.”
“Well that's good as well. Anyway as you may be aware our Staff Engagement policy which everyone signed up to demonstrates your commitment to engage with other members both within and outside the Clan by taking part in activities, keeping up to date with news items and perhaps even submitting to them and contributing to discussion on the wider issues affecting the Brotherhood.”
Malisane nodded. “Yes I read the news items.”
DarkHawk nodded. “There's actually a Brotherhood wide workshop next week on Sharing Good Practice and Breaking Down Borders I'm looking for volunteers to attend.” He gave Malisane a hopeful look who in return adopted as much as a blank expression as he was able.

“Ok so moving onto Question Three. 'What do you see as your personal contribution to the House and Clan that adds value to it?' and you put 'I serve the Clan until death, I go where it says go, I defend when it says defend and I kill when it says kill. My heart, my soul and my existence is dedicated to the Final Way. All else is nothing.' which is very good but what we're trying to get you to think about is what particular personal contribution you make that really ripples out from you and has a positive effect felt by the others around you?”
Malisane frowned. “I have literally no idea what that means.”
“Well give it some thought.”

Darkhawk looked back at the screen. “So Question Four. 'Where do you see your career progressing and how can we help you achieve those aims?' and you put down. 'Career?'”
Malisane nodded. “I was puzzled by the question. I did not even know I had a career.”
Darkhawk looked at him calmly, “Well where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Alive ideally. Preferably back in the Orian system. I have a cave there.”
The Quaestor frowned. “But what about your ambitions? The Dark Brotherhood has many opportunities for someone who has perhaps had a break and is seeing a new challenge.”
“I'm not seeking a new challenge. I serve the Clan and whoever is currently Consul, where they ask and when they ask. I have no plans beyond that.
DarkHawk considered this. “So would you take an opportunity if it became available?”
“Possibly. If it suited me or if it was needed and no one else wanted it or was suitable.”
“That's good enough for me,” the Quaestor replied typing the response. “So, are you happy in the Clan?”
Malisane considered this. “That no longer has a meaning for me,” he replied, “as I said I am content to serve as long as I am wanted and able.”
“Very well,” DarkHawk replied. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”
“No.”
The Quaestor studied him, then finally he said “Alright I'll send you the notes. We'll do this again in six months.”
“I can not wait,” Malisane replied. He stood and left.

End of The Akk Days

Lyra Colony
Severian Space

Captain Cerys Dagen sat back in the pilots chair of the GX1 Hauler trying to remain calm. Around her were a large number of other small freighters and personnel transports, all waiting their turn to lift off and return with their cargoes to one of the Naga Sadow vessels either in orbit or at the rendezvous several systems away. Every attempt she had made to pull rank to obtain an earlier take-off had met with patient bureaucracy.
As her hand brushed over her adapted datapad the Miraluka was startled by a sudden and persistent knocking on the hatch. Her finger moved to the communicator button. “Yes?”
“Are you returning to the Perdition?” It was a deep voice muffled by a helmet.
“Yes I am, why?” she replied.
“You will take me there.”
She sighed. Who was out there? Some chancer who had missed his shuttle? “This is not passenger transport. I'm not authorised to give people lifts. Who are you anyway?”
There was a slight pause, then, “I am Malisane Sadow.”
She froze. She was relatively new to the Clan's Warhost forces, having joined the officer programme and graduated several years earlier. She had only just met the minimum time served for promotion to her new rank. However she was more than familiar with the structure of the Clan and the stories of it's past. A Son of Sadow. And she had heard of this one. “Sorry sir, I'll open the hatch.”

She stood and saluted as he entered the cockpit. “There is no need for that,” he told her as he sat in the vacant co pilots chair. “Submit a priority one launch code and take us out of here.”
“Yes sir.” She sat back down in the pilots chair and transmitted the code, and then the hauler began to vibrate as it lifted off the ground, her hands operating the controls with her usual calm efficiency. “Our flight time should only be about four hours sir.”
“Good,” the reply came back.
She could not see him in the traditional sense, but her innate force senses could sense him. He was powerful, confident, and had a raw controlled anger about him. She could also sense him studying her.
“You are a combat pilot.” he said after a few seconds. It was not a question.
“I am sir, yes.”
“A captain. And you are flying a hauler?”
“Yes sir.”
“Why?”
She took a deep breath. He had hit a raw spot. “I am a Miraluka sir. I have passed all the exams and have more than sufficient simulator and flight time. However unfortunately sir most of the squadron commanders are reluctant to have a conventionally blind pilot at the controls of one of their fighters.”
“Foolish,” he replied, “with what is to come we need every trained pilot.”
“Thank you sir, however currently they have no shortage of candidates. I have been flying a desk as it were sir. I try and get some time in the haulers to keep my flight status. I am not sure for how much longer though.”
There was another pause. “You wish to leave,” he replied simply.
She paused. She had considered it. “I do not wish to sir, but I did not train to sit behind a desk or at a terminal.”
“I see.”
With not much else to say she waited until the hauler cleared the atmosphere then made the jump to hyperspace.

Malisane sat quietly in the co pilot's chair watching the Miraluka operate the controls. He had removed his helmet to let his scarred skin breathe, confident that the pilot could not make out the damaged features he usually concealed. He suddenly stood up as a deep sonorous tone sounded behind him. Zero, his short black BT-1 astromech, entered the cockpit. He glanced at his datapad as the droid began to transmit wirelessly to it. “He says there is a problem with the hyperdrive.”
Cerys fingers flicked over the adapted terminal, reading the signals it was sending her. “I'm not getting any error reports.”
“He is. Bring us out of hyperspace.”
“Yes sir.” They waited while the vessel returned to normal space and slowed. A few seconds later an alarm sounded in the cockpit. Cerys' fingers brushed over the display again. “Hyperdrive failed sir. We're going nowhere.”
There was a slightly mocking tone from the droid behind her, though it backed off as Malisane swivelled in his chair to regard it. “Where are we?”
“The computer says we're in the Drakora system sir.”
“I have never heard of it,” Malisane replied.
“There isn't much here sir,” she replied, “one planet with a breathable atmosphere but it's a water world.”
“Are there any settlements?”
“One sir,” she replied as she interpreted the information, “there's a resort. They might have somewhere we can make repairs.”
“Any port in a storm. Land us there.”
“Yes sir.”

As the hauler entered the atmosphere of the planet Malisane brought up the resort on the view screen. It was a large white building on a raised platform in the sea. Several pools surrounded the hotel, along with a yellow artificial beach facing the ocean. There was also a large landing area in front of the resort with a large number of expensive personal yachts and skiffs. As they made the final approach to land the grey metal hauler stood out like a sore thumb. After a few minutes the ramp slid down and Malisane, Cerys and Zero disembarked. In front of them the entrance was large with plants surrounding it and several revolving doors.
Immediately a man in a white suit approached them. “Deliveries are supposed to be at the bay in the rear of the resort. You're in the wrong place you will have to move.” He paused as he saw the Battlelord, wearing his dark armour and cloak, and a look of confusion came over his features.
Malisane walked up to him. “This is not a delivery. Our ship is in need of repair. Do you have someone who can make them?”
The man paused for a few seconds, before his training took over. “Not today sir I am afraid, it is currently the weekend here the garage staff do not return for two days. I suppose you could wait for them on your ship but you can not leave it here sir we have an image to maintain.”
Malisane studied him for a few seconds, and then looked at the hotel. “You have accommodation available?”
“Yes we do sir, but,” he paused studying the armoured Battlelord, “well it's quite expensive sir.”
Malisane nodded. “Good. We will check in. Have our vessel parked around the rear where it can be worked on when your staff arrive.”
The man nodded, “Very good, sir.”

A few heads turned as the black armoured Battlelord entered the reception area, followed by Cerys in her flight suit and the black astromech. The reception was a wide and airy with pot plants, several sofas and a large reflecting pool. The reception desk was at the other end behind which stood a smartly dressed Twi'lek female who studied the Sith with a brief look of distaste which immediately turned into a forced smile as he approached the desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Malisane looked back at her. “We require two rooms,” he told her, “provisionally for two nights.”
“I see sir,” she replied stressing the word “see” slightly. She turned to her terminal, “we are quite busy at the moment. I do have a suite available on the fifth floor, it has two separate bedrooms both with en suite facilities with a communal area which leads onto a balcony overlooking the pool area. It is however eight hundred credits per night.”
“That will suffice,” Malisane replied.
“Very good sir,” she replied, “now we can offer our all inclusive or all inclusive plus packages. The all inclusive package includes meals and non branded drinks at an extra four hundred credits, or the all inclusive plus package includes branded drinks, complimentary safe and restocking of the mini bar and one visit to the spa at a time of your choice, which for the duration of your stay is an extra six hundred.”
Malisane sighed. He was becoming impatient. “The second one.” He produced his 'only to be used in emergencies' Clan credit stick. “Charge it to that.”
“Very good sir,” she replied, “now does sir or madam have any luggage?”
“No we do not.”
“I see sir,” she replied brightly, “well in that case we can supply sir with a selection of clothing for yourself and your female companion which will perhaps make you feel more comfortable during your stay? Of course extra clothing should you desire can be ordered via the terminal in your suite.”
“Yes, whatever.” Malisane could feel his irritation rising.
“Wonderful sir,” the twilek replied. She typed into her terminal and then produced two cards and a leaflet which she placed in front of them. “Ok you are in suite seventeen. Now as you can see here sir and madam, breakfast is available in the main restaurant from seven until ten in the morning, lunch is available from twelve until two in the restaurant or pool bar and the evening meal is from seven in the evening until half nine. You can book spa treatments from your terminal, this reception or the main spa desk and our full range of excursions can be booked here at reception or on your terminal.”
“Fine,” Malisane replied taking the cards, “follow me Captain.”
“Have a wonderful stay sir and madam,” the receptionist called as they walked away.

An hour later Malisane was stood in his room in front of the mirror. Conscious of the need to fit in he had changed his armour into a white linen suit and matching wide brimmed hat from the clothing a polite porter had dropped off. He pulled it down as much as possible to cover his scarring and added a pair of dark glasses to cover his lidless eyes with their black integral lenses. Satisfied he slipped the hilt of his saber into his jacket pocket and left his room. He walked over the the mini bar and opened it, selecting a liquor and a can of soda, adding one to the other and sipping it. Through the curtains at one end of the room the sun was shining. The black astromech was stood in a corner. A few seconds later the door to the other door opened and Cerys stepped through, wearing a light summer dress over a white two piece swimming costume. She was still wearing her own habitual black lenses. She regarded him calmly. “Sir. I have not managed to raise the Clan Warhost via the communicator I am afraid we are stuck here.”
Malisane nodded. “We must make the best of it.”
“Yes sir,” she replied, “we have an hour left before dinner.”

Malisane stood in the queue holding his plate in his hand. Around him people busied back and forth around the restaurant which had a number of bays serving hot and cold food. Cerys had deferentially agreed to let him go first to get food while she waited for a waiter to take their drinks order. The Battlelord was not used to this sort of environment but was trying to fit in. He felt his anger rise though when a large man suddenly appeared in front of him. He reached one hand forward and tapped the man on the shoulder. “There is a queue.”
The man turned with a wide grin on his face. “Yeah so what are you going to do about it?”
Malisane reached up with his spare hand and removed his glasses. He calmly regarded the man who took in the scarred face, ripped ears, missing nose and eye sockets in which two black lenses blinked occasionally. The perpetual sneer on the ripped mouth completed the look as Malisane returned the man's gaze, who paled slightly. He also took in the Sith's heavy frame. “Do you really want to find out?” Malisane asked.
The man tried to meet his gaze and failed. He muttered a slight apology and meekly moved to the back of the queue. Malisane nodded in satisfaction noting the slight approving glances from several other guests.
A few minutes later he returned to their table and placed his plate in front of him while he sat down. Two glasses of white wine and a jug of water were now on the table along with Cerys who was sat quietly. “With your permission sir I will get my own food.”
Malisane nodded. “We should drop the formal approach we are supposed to be on vacation. We do not want to stand out.”
“Very good sir, sorry what do I call you?” she asked.
Malisane paused. His own name stood out slightly. “I used to be known as Jagos, use that.”
“Yes, erm, Jagos,” she replied with a slight nervous smile. She turned and went to get her food.

A hour or so later and well fed the Sith and the Warhost officer sat at a table on an upstairs terrace. Around them several other couples sat holding hands and looking at the stars or talking quietly. By comparison and despite their attempts to fit in the two of them appeared stiff and uncomfortable.
A Rodian waiter came over, “Can I offer you another drink sir and madam?”
Malisane looked up at him. “Ewok liquor, no ice.”
“And a white wine,” Cerys added.
“Very good,” the waiter replied, “and also if you are interested the cabaret
begins inside in five minutes. Very good show tonight, we have dancers and magican..”
Cerys looked inside. “Maybe we should watch, sir, sorry Jagos. We would stand out less.”
Malisne nodded. “Very well.” He stood and lead her inside, gesturing at the waiter towards a free table. As they sat the waiter brought their drinks.
After a few minutes they were surprised by a elderly human couple who joined their table. “Sorry,” the man said apologetically, “there weren't any other free tables inside.”
“Oh I'm sure they don't mine Ceril,” the woman replied with a beam, “the more the merrier that's what I always say.” She looked around her then waved, “I say, waiter!”
Malisane starred at them coldly. “Very well.”
“One vodka and tomato juice and one medium beer,” the woman said loudly. She turned to Malisane and Cerys. “Lovely hotel this,” she told them, “Ceril and I haven't been before but the reviews were marvellous.”
“Were they really?” Malisane replied, considering whether or not to take his drink back to his room.
The woman studied him, taking in his ravaged features. “I say you've been in the wars haven't you?”
“Yes,” Malisane replied, resisting the urge to force choke her.
She reached for her handbag. “Well I found the most wonderful surgeon on Coruscant,” she said digging through and finding a card, “he does wonders, eye tucks, lips, wrinkles, but of course he does more extreme reconstruction. Take this card he'll give you a discount. I'm Mevis by the way and this is Ceril.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ceril said with a polite wave.
Cerys could sense the Battlelord's increasing irritation which threatened to burst out. “Hi I'm Cerys, and this is Jagos. This is our first time here as well.”
Mevis studied them both. “So are you two a couple?” she asked.
Cerys continued to take the initiative. “No, I'm his,” she thought quickly, even blind then she sensed they did not exactly give the appearance of a loving couple, “step daughter.” She regretted briefly not saying associate or secretary but it was said now.
Mevis' eye brows raised in surprise. “You're away with your step father?” she asked.
Cerys could sense the woman, her husband and even Malisane's suspicious gaze turn to her. “Yes, my mother is joining us tomorrow she had a meeting with her lawyers.”
As Malisane briefly covered his eyes with his hand the woman's eye brows raised even further. “Lawyer eh?” she said turning to Malisane, “no trouble I trust?”
Malisane, caught in the lie, did his best, “No just a routine matter.” He patted his suit pockets, finding only the hilt of his light saber. “I am just off outside for a death stick.” He quickly got up.
Cerys sighed as the woman's gaze returned to her. “He's supposed to have given up but you know what men are like on holiday.”

An hour or so later Malisane sat on the balcony, sipping a drink from the min bar. Zero stood next to him, the droid quietly taking in the surroundings. Cerys approached from the communal area. “Well I thought that all went alright sir,” she said quietly.
“Wonderfully,” the Battlelord replied, “that couple were among the worst people I've ever met even after two decades in the Brotherhood, the dancers were terrible and that magician would have tried to drag me up on stage if I had not made his set fall over.”
She sighed. “Yes your telekinesis did add a strange addition to the performance sir,” she replied, “it got a laugh though the audience loved it.”
“No more luck on the communicator Captain?” he asked.
“Sorry sir, no.”
Malisane looked out over the ocean. “We will try and continue to fit in then.”
Cery's nodded. “Yes sir. Do not forget sir breakfast finishes at ten hundred hours,” she paused, “and I have a seaweed wrap and hot stone massage at eleven hundred.” Her sightless turned upwards.
Malisane turned to her. “Do try and remember we are on the Clan's account her Captain.”
“Yes sir. Just trying to blend in sir.”

The next morning Malisane was sat in the pool bar sipping a cocktail. Breakfast had been acceptable, he had managed to get down at seven to avoid the rush and had enjoyed the peace, following his swim in the cold pool at six. The pool area was still quiet as many guests were either finishing in the restaurant or in their rooms getting ready for a day in the sun. He noticed with distaste that despite the signs many towels were already on sun loungers, something abhorrent to the Sith's ordered view of the world.
He glanced up as Cerys approached him. “Good morning Jagos,” she greeted him seeming more used to the alias, “did you enjoy breakfast?”
“Tolerable,” he replied.
She nodded. “Okay well I'm just off the spa. Do you want to meet for lunch at twelve?”
Malisane noted with disapproval the Captain was getting more comfortable in what was supposed to be an enforced stay in the hotel. “Yes I will see you later.”
As she left someone else approached the Sith. It was a Zeltron female wearing a brightly coloured outfit. “Good morning sir, are you enjoying your stay?”
“Yes,” Malisane replied.
“That's wonderful sir. I'm part of your entertainment team. We have the aquarobics starting in ten minutes in the main pool or if you're more interested we have rifle shooting at eleven in the range behind the spa. We also have other entertainments throughout the day listed on the boards for you to peruse.”
Malisane decided to be cooperative. “Thank you I may do.”
She beamed and left.

More people were coming outside now, and he sat back in his chair. He looked around as the loungers and the pool began to fill up. He was just debating finding somewhere quieter like the inside bar when two white suited men approached him. “Good morning sir,” one of them greeted him, “we would appreciate it if you would come with us.”
Malisane stared at them through his lenses. “Why?”
“We just need to discuss a small matter with you inside sir.”
Malisane could sense something in them, a deception and a slight apprehension. “What is it concerning?”
The man smiled slightly. “Inside, if you please sir. We do not want to disturb or embarrass the other guests.”
Malisane thought for a few seconds. It could be trouble, or it could be nothing. He could resist but it seemed more sensible to go along with them given he was effectively trapped here until the ship was fixed. He drained his drink and stood up. “Very well.”

Cerys waited patiently at the small spa reception. Though the Miraluka could not precisely make out the features of the room it felt cool and comfortable, and there was a pleasant aroma from flowers nearby. The receptionist finished on her terminal and smiled. “That all seems to be in order madam, if you follow me I'll take you to your treatment room where your therapist will be with you shortly.”
Cerys smiled back at her. “Thank you.”
She followed the woman down the tiled corridor to a room and opened the door. “Just inside here madam. If you undress and lie face down on the massage table with the towel over you then you will be attended to shortly.
Cerys entered the room. She sensed it was dark with a few candles burning. Soft music was playing in the room. The door closed behind her. She was above to unzip her dress when she sensed someone else was in the room. She heard the sound of a blaster's safety being removed and a woman's voice told her. “Don't bother with that, just raise your hands and sit on the table. Do not make any sudden movements.”

Malisane followed the two men up the steps to the main building and through the doors to the reception area. He was remaining calm so far. There was something not right about this whole situation. Studying the men who were walking either side of him he could sense they were armed, though only lightly. He could handle them easily whenever he wanted to. Still there was still a possibility this was a routine matter but he sensed it was not. He saw the reception desk and turned towards it, before one of the men politely but firmly blocked his way. “Not that way sir,” he said quietly, “the office is just this way.”
The room they eventually reached was at the far end of a corridor. One of the men placed a hand on a panel and it slid open. Inside was a desk with light chairs in front of it, and a larger chair behind it. The walls were plain and the only other item of furniture was a heavy cabinet. “Have a seat sir,” one of the men told him, “the manager will be with you shortly.”
Malisane sat down on one of the chairs as the door slid shut behind him. He refused the offer of refreshments, and the two men took their positions either side of the door. He waited quietly staring at the wall behind the desk until the door slid open once more, and he heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head and looked in surprise at a tall blonde attractive woman entered wearing a smart grey jacket and skirt, her gaze meeting his own as she walked around the desk and took a seat.
“Jenna,” he said in surprise.
“Hello Malisane. It's been a long time.”

Malisane studied the woman in amazement. She was dead, she had been for over a decade, since that fatal day when his own bomb had collapsed the Dystopia club in on itself, nearly taking his own life and left him barely alive in a ravaged state he had never entirely recovered from.
She smiled coldly. “Welcome to my latest venture. It was quite a surprise when you turned up on my guest list. Its taken me a decade to recover from what you did, to our company and our fortune. I suppose I should be grateful I am at least here our partners did not survive your explosion, I myself was lucky to do so.”
“I thought you were dead,” he told her.
“Fortunately I was on my way to another appointment, my shuttle was taking off from the roof when the explosion happened. It seemed sensible to let the rumour persist. As you know your Clan's front organisation seized all our assets to pay for the damage to the city, and had they known I was alive they would have come after me. I was very disappointed to here of your survival but your physical state was some comfort after your betrayal.”
“I did not betray anyone,” Malisane snapped back, “what I did was necessary to destroy a powerful enemy of my Clan. Yes the explosion was brutal but it achieved that goal.”
“I do not care about the affairs of dark jedi,” she replied coldly, “you destroyed us. We were young entrepreneurs building an empire together. We brought you in because you were the planetary governor and had an enthusiasm for building with us. And even after we discovered what you really were we kept you inside and you made us stronger. And with one act you ripped it all down and killed our partners. It's taken me a decade to rebuild again.”
He studied her. “So what if I did?” he replied, “I was a fool back then. The trivialities we were involved in were a distraction. The person you knew burned away years ago. I care about my Clan and my Clan alone. And I am bored of this. I think my stay at your resort is at an end. Provide me with a ship or I will take one by force.”
“Would you? We have your companion.”
He shrugged. “She is a pilot I only met yesterday.”
She smiled. “Nice. However you overestimate yourself. I am not done with you. I am fully aware of your abilities, and that you have a lightsaber in your left jacket pocket. If you make any sudden moves you will die.”
His ripped mouth shifted slightly into more of a sneer. “You think your security can stop me?”
“Them?” she asked glancing at the two men, “They're for show. They reassure the guests and fit in with our image. You taught us a lot about security and defence systems when you worked with us, and I have employed them all in my new venture and improved on them. Try something if you do not believe me.”

His eyes took in the surroundings. He did believe her. There could be any amount of defences hidden in the walls or the ceiling of this room and the areas outside. “So what happens now? If you intend to kill me why should I not make an attempt on your life? What do I have to loose?”
She smiled back at him. “You will not do that Malisane so long as you believe you have a chance,” she told him, “you will wait until you sense an opening or weakness. And I could have killed you last night, or during your breakfast, or right now. I do not intend to yet until I am ready. I will take your lightsaber however. Put it on the desk, carefully.”
He reached inside his jacket pocket and removed the hilt, and for a second he gripped it, his finger near the switch as her eyes bore into him, then slowly he placed it on the desk. She reached across and took it from him, putting it in her own pocket.
“Now we are going to take a walk to my own office. This is just a room the reps handle customer complaints in. We're going to remain nice and calm we do not want to alarm the other guests. Though if necessary they might be persuaded a fifty percent discount on their next visit will make up for witnessing your violent death.”

Cerys calmly sat on the massage table. The female security guard had her blaster trained on her, and had her communicator on her left hand near her mouth as she spoke. The guard finally lowered her communicator. “Ok miss we're leaving. Keep in front of me and remain calm. Remember who has the blaster.”
Cerys faked a weak smile. “Of course,” she said quietly, “I am sure this is just a misunderstanding. I'm happy to cooperate.”
“You are sensible then,” the guard told her, “we will take the side entrance. Stand up.”
Cerys slowly began to lift herself off the bed, and as she moved her left arm to push herself off it she put it through the tables head hole and seemingly lost her balance, crashing to the floor. “I'm sorry,” she said quickly, “I can't see.” Feebly she reached for the legs of the table, trying to pull herself up.
“Oh let me,” the guard snapped reaching her free hand down to grip Cerys own. She gasped as suddenly the Miraluka grabbed her wrist with both of her own, wrenching her down to crash against the side of the table and hit the floor hard. Cerys quickly pushed herself up and grabbed the guards head, smashing it against the table leg. She repeated the move for good measure then satisfied she took the blaster from the guards limp grip and stood up, also divesting her opponent of a flat security card. She walked to the door and opened it slowly, peering out as she looked around with her force vision. The corridor was apparently empty. Not wanting to return to the reception she noticed a door at the other end of the corridor. She approached and studied it. It had a palm reader and a backup card slot. She slid the card into the slot and the door slid open revealing a narrow alley beyond. She quickly slipped outside.

One end of the alley lead to the artificial beach, the other presumably back to the main building. She headed towards the latter. She made her way quickly, keeping the blaster low but ready. At the end of the alley she looked out. The pool to her right was noisy, the aquarobics session in full flow with music blaring out, while other people stood at the bar or sunbathed on loungers. To her right were the steps to reception. She slid the blaster under her dress and tucked it into the strap of her bikini top under her arm, then made her way up the steps, trying to act casually. Then she froze. Malisane was walking through the reception, flanked by two of the white suited coated security guards and a tall blonde woman. The reception was busy, a line of people were waiting the check in, and quite a few more were sat on the sofas having cold drinks and chatting. Thinking quickly she studied the area and noticed a panel to the left hand side of the doors. She reached for it and her fingers ran along the raised bumps on the bottom reading then. Then she took a breath and hit it hard with her elbow smashing the glass.

Malisane looked around in surprise as alarms began to sound through the hotel, and an automated voice cut through the noise. “Attention. Will all guests exit the building calmly through the nearest exit and congregate in the pool or beach area or in front of the hotel where members of staff will be happy to assist you. Do not use the lifts for your own safety and leave all bags so as not to hamper your exit.”
Immediately there was chaos in the reception area as some people immediately made for the pool or the doors outside, while others got in their way trying to decide which one was closer. Others were ignoring the instructions and trying to drag suitcases along with them. Malisane slipped into the crowd as Jenna feverishly tried to follow but lost sight of him. As he noticed the reception staff coming out from behind the desk to try and guide the chaos he opted to quickly slip behind it. He could see Jenna's blonde head following the crowd outside.

He waited as the crowd began to clear and looked round quickly as someone appeared next to him. “This is your work?” he asked over the alarms.
She nodded quickly, “Yes sir. It would be help to know what is happening?”
“The explanation will have to wait for later. We do not have much time. We're still stuck here once this has calmed down they will be searching for us and we still can not leave without a ship.” He looked up over the desk to see the reception was now empty. Several of the white suited guards were stood outside the glass doors on either side which had now shut. His gaze ended on the doors to the stairs. “Follow me.”
“Where are we going sir?” she asked.
“The last place they would expect to find us.”
As she followed his meaning became clear. “Are you serious sir?”
“Yes.” They made their way upstairs, which fortunately had cleared of people leaving, until they reached their floor. They quickly made their way along the line of room doors until they reached their own.
Cerys examined it. “In the event of a fire it will only open from the inside to stop anyone returning to their rooms until the alarm shuts down. I can slice it.”
“Do it quickly.”
“Yes sir,” she replied.
Once they were inside Malisane was immediately greeted by the short black assassin droid who rolled over from the corner, communicating in his deep tone. Malisane looked down at him. “Guard the door.” The droid responded and moved in front of it.
“What do we do now sir?” Cerys asked.
Malisane briefly updated her, detailing Jenna and her grudge and the resorts likely high tech and deadly security systems but omitting much of the historic details. “I have an idea sir,” she told him as she moved to the rooms guest terminal and logged in, “if we move anywhere the security system will detect us. I can't disable it but I have access to our booking and identity details. I can blank our images so the facial recognition software won't recognise us.”
Malisane nodded. “Do it.” While she was busy he moved to his room and took down a long zipped bag from on top of the wardrobe that contained an extra duvet and pillows. He discarded them and packed his armour and weapons aside from his blaster. He sealed it and carried it to the balcony and looked out. The pool area was still full of guests stood in a crowd as staff watched them. Seeing a bush below he dropped the bag behind it. Then he returned to the room. He also had an idea.

Jenna walked angrily across the reception. The alarms had been shut off and the guests were beginning to enter the building, opting to return to the pool or the restaurant which was about to open for lunch. She met her head of security. “Any news yet?”
“Not so far ma'am,” he replied, “we have searched the ground floor areas but it's proving difficult with all the guest movements. The security system has not picked them up either.”
She scowled. “Keep searching I want them found. Use the cleaning droids to search the the upstairs rooms.”
“Yes ma'am.”
She turned and began to walk towards the corridor that lead to her office when she heard a strange deep tone. Following the noise she entered a small alcove with boards advertising trips, behind which a black astromech droid was stood. “What are you doing there?” she demanded.
The droid sounded it's tone again and then in front for it a familiar flickering image appeared. “I offered you a chance to just let me walk out Jenna,” the figure told her, “now this is the hard way. This assassin droid is set to explode if you try and raise the alarm or move more than two metres from it. You will follow it so we can have another discussion.”
Immediately the droid began to roll and she strode after it as it lead her across reception and outside down the ramp next to the steps to the pool. A guard approached her but she ordered him away and followed down the alley Cerys had taken earlier.

She moved quickly to keep up with the droid until she reached the end which lead to a quiet deserted loading area where several stacks of empty containers awaited collection. The droid stopped and a second later Jenna felt an invisible force slam her against one of the stacks, pinning her. Malisane stepped out from the shadows. He calmly walked forward and reached into her jacket pocket retrieving his lightsaber. He studied her. “One of the things I have learnt since what happened is to forgo concepts like revenge. You have rebuilt your business and become a success. You could simply have let me got or not even bothered me. But you could not.”
She studied him. “No I could not. So what now?”
“My pilot is by a small shuttle nearby in the rear docking area. Your obsession with micro management tells me you would know the command codes for it. You will tell me them.”
“And why would I do that?” she demanded. “You will let me live?”
“No I do not think that would be a good idea. You are something I would rather leave in my past. You on the other hand I suspect will never forget.”
“So why should I tell you anything?”
He studied her. “Unlike many of my fellows I have no interest in inflicting pain or suffering for their own sake. However I am very capable of doing so if it achieves what is necessary. Your choice is a quick painless death or an agonising one. I suggest you consider your options.”

Some time later the shuttle docked with the ISD Perdition and Malisane strode down the ramp now in his familiar armour. As he walked across the docking bay an officer carrying a datapad approached him and saluted. “I am sorry to bother you Battlelord but I was looking for you.”
“Why?” Malisane demanded.
“I'm from fleet personnel We received your request from last week for a temporary pilot to be assigned to your ship. I have complied a list of several candidates for you to consider and a make a choice.”
He glanced down at the datapad then back at the officer. “I already have chosen. Assign Captain Cerys Dagen.”
“Her sir? But you know she's...”
“Yes. I have made my choice.”
The office saluted.“Yes sir.”

Combat Writing

Thuvis Shipyard
Assembly Plant.

The armoured figure entered the assembly plant slowly and carefully, her blaster rifle held in her hands with a finger paused over the trigger. The Liberation Front troopers she had sent to recon the building had not reported back and were not responding to communications. With her troops securing the rest of the facility to reinforce the wavering Severian forces she had decided to check it out alone, confident in her abilities. The room was dark, a single florescent strip light running the length of the ceiling was the only illumination. Around her the hulking machinery cast dark shadows on the ground. Her eyes moved slowly round the room until she stopped. She walked over to a corner and bent down, examining the corpse of one of her soldiers, snarling as she recognised the burnt armour and the exposed and partially cauterised entry wound in the side of the chest caused by light saber. She stood up quickly looking up at the top of one of the pieces of stored machinery from which another of her soldiers hung upside down, their head presumably having rolled into the shadows somewhere.

Crimson sensed someone watching her and spun round, looking up at the control room as the rifle in her hand instinctively followed her gaze. Through the screen a dark figure was watching her. A blaster bolt seared through the air from her rifle, hitting the glass and exploding it, as the figure calmly stepped aside oblivious to the shards surrounding them. As she moved forward for another shot the figure stepped back and then with a flurry of movement leapt through the hole she had created and fell to the ground somewhere behind the machinery with a light sound. She kept her figure on the trigger of her blaster as she edged slowly to one side waiting for a sudden movement. A second later she saw it and a blaster bolt seared off into the darkness as the armoured enemy darted between two large racks of parts, narrowly avoiding her shot. She paused, keeping her weapon trained, then she suddenly leapt aside and rolled across the floor as a small projectile came spinning over the top of the machinery and landed near her, tensing and waiting for the explosion that in the confined space would potentially finish them both.

Just as it became obvious that the projectile was in fact a broken machine part she looked up in alarm as the figure burst out of the darkness, his saber igniting. She fired at him and he deflected the shot with his saber as he ran towards her, closing the gap between them. She leapt aside indistinctively as the white glowing blade sliced at her, rolling once more as she dropped her rifle and grasped for her stun baton, raising it to block a second strike as she pushed herself up into a crouch, concentrating on blocking the hail of blows he rained down on her. As the glowing blade met her baton she set her muscles, then pushed upwards in one explosive motion pushing his blade back and lifting herself to her feet. She faced him as he stood watching her for a few seconds, gripping the hilt of his saber in both hands.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked. He was about her height, wearing black armour surrounded by a reinforced cape. Like her own head his was covered by a simple black metal helmet, the only features being the two eye sockets through which he studied her.
“I come from the Brotherhood,” he responded calmly.
“I gathered that. Why?”
“For you.”
She regarded him coldly. “You sought me out? So you want to be famous do you?”
“No,” he replied, “just your death will suffice.”
She looked back at him. He knew her at least. On the other hand she had no idea who he was. It was her business to know the leaders and the famous warriors of the Dark Brotherhood, their habits, their combat styles, their standard armour and equipment. This was not one of them. She may as well find out, the Collective liked to keep a record of slain enemies. “Do you at least have a name?”
“Yes.”
“Cool one, eh,” she replied, “Very well.”

She suddenly leapt forward, raising the baton and as his blade rose to meet it she followed the motion, kicking out at his chest. He set himself tensing himself against the blow as it struck his chest, then he calmly raised his free hand, and she felt an immense invisible push that hurled her off her feet and smashed her against the wall behind her wish a force that temporarily stunned as she dropped to the floor. It was his turn to attack as he moved forward in one aggressive motion. She just caught the strike as she rose up once more, but sensing she was now in a weak position her mind raced for a solution. With no other option her free hand dropped to her waist and grasped the smoke bomb. Her finger hit the button and she dropped it as a burst of smoke billowed out from her feet filling the area around them. She set herself calmly blocking the white saber as it arced towards her once more then show quickly ducked and darted aside. She just saw the blade slash ineffectively once more through the smoke then there was silence.

Her blaster rifle lost somewhere in the smoke she now drew her pistol, holding it in her left hand and her right still held the baton as she backed off through the thin alleyway of hulking equipment. There was no sign of the force user as she moved out of the immediate area of the smoke which had begun to blow out through the open door nearby. She considered her options. The obvious one was to summon more of her soldiers on her communicator, seize this enemy by force and drag his secrets from him including if any of his accursed kin was in the area. However she was Captain Chelsie Crimson, or CC, she did not need assistance with one force user who did not even warrant a place in the list of potential targets. She would drag him out by his cloak and deposit him in front of her cheering troops as an example. That was her way. Slowly she made her way along the narrow walkway, tensed for action.

Suddenly she heard a slight noise above her and looked up just as an armoured foot crashed against her helmet as her opponent dropped from on top of a large generator sending her sprawling backwards, her stun baton dropping from her grip as she hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. As he landed in front of her, his saber igniting one more and moving towards her she raised her blaster pistol and pointed it directly at him. He stopped and studied her. He raised his free hand once more and a shimmering barrier emerged between them.
“You are defeated,” he told her, “you have one weapon and no tricks left. Against the power of the Dark Side.”
“So?” she asked, “Try and kill me then.”
“My name is Malisane Sadow by the way,” he told her, “it costs me nothing to tell you.”
“Your first name is not known to me,” she replied, “though the Sadow name is. So you do have some importance, locally at least.”
Malisane shrugged. “I am a servant of my Clan,” he replied, “nothing more.”
Her hand was moving to her belt slowly as their eyes met. “Well you know who I am,” she said as her hand wrapped around the object she was seeking, “so you should know something.”
“What?”
“I always have a trick.” She tossed the fragmentation grenade high in the air, above the two of them and the barrier, and covered her helmet with her arm as it exploded.

Malisane was quick, the barrier faded as it was his turn to leap aside as the blast hit him. Crimson fired at him with her blaster pistol, hitting him square in his side. The armour absorbed some of the blast but she knew she had wounded him. He spun around grasping his side and raising his saber as she moved up into a firing position. He backed off as the wound and shock from the blast dulled his senses and he kept a hand firmly on the blade. She fired again and the blade whipped round to block the shot. She stood up and fired again, knowing sooner or later she would breach his defences.
Malisane seemed to sense this as well. In fury his free hand left his wounded side and he lashed out at her, force lightning arching towards her. She gritted her teeth as the crackling force surrounded her seeming to surge through her entire body. She fought the pain and raised fired once more, the bolt striking him in the arm and burning through the armour to the flesh and muscle beneath, causing him to fumble his saber, just managing to catch it before it fell but he seemed to lack the strength to raise it again, his arm by his side and the blade deactivated.

Confident this battle was at the end she moved towards him aiming the pistol at his chest as he stood facing her. A new sound could be heard, the sound of running armoured boots across the ground outside, her troops. She knew he could hear it as well. She smiled. “You wish to surrender?” she asked him.
His gaze met her through his eye slits, watching her calmly. Then with a slight gesture he turned his head and waved one hand. The effect was immediate. Around her lights began to flash and the loud whirring of machinery above her huge mechanical grips began to descend from the ceiling, opening and shutting. Beside her one of the huge pieces of machinery was lifted up. She she quickly moved out of the way as it rose above her head, then she leapt aside as it suddenly dropped, hitting the assembly room floor wish a crash and an explosion. She backed off and then ducked as two of the grips snapped over her head, narrowly missing grabbing her. Then above her there was a flash and a burst of flames, as machinery that had not been correctly repaired overheated and tore itself apart.

Her eyes snapped round. There was no sign of the force user but she heard an alarm began to sound and above her coolant liquid began to pour from the ceiling, freezing anything it hit as a white gas began to pour from a valve in the wall, filling the room with a fire retardant smoke. She had no option but to run for the door, waving aside the Liberation Front soldiers who were just reaching it. “Away!” she ordered the soldiers, “get to the generator and cut the local power feed.” She turned backing away from the building as another explosion was heard inside. “Get the power cut then search that building!”
She watched as her forces scurried about until finally the noise stopped and the building went dark, it's only remaining sign of life was the white retardant gas slowly drifting out of the open door. She sighed as her soldiers slowly approached it, blaster rifles raised as they entered. After a few minutes she sighed as she watched her soldiers fan out searching the rest of the area. She took her datapad from her pocket, scrolled down to her list of potential targets, and added “Malisane Sadow” to the bottom.

Manually added by Grand Master Telaris "Mav" Cantor

Manually added by Grand Master Telaris "Mav" Cantor

[Objective 2] Malisane Sadow 6169

Temnos Evaculations Mining Facility
Moon of Thillion

It was night. Around the mining facility the ground was mostly quiet, a few Temnos security personnel patrolled in pairs, keeping the peace and staying out the the way of the armoured soldiers of the Collective whose presence was passive but visible enough to make them nervous. They were even more wary around the heavily enhanced agents of the Technocrats who swagged about confidently as if they owned the place. Perhaps they did now?

Has any of the security personnel looked up at the right moment they might have noticed the silhouette of an black armoured figure crouched on top of one of the warehouses. Lieutenant Colonel Senth studied his surroundings curiously, making mental notes of everything he saw and weighing his options. He was grudgingly impressed by the efficiency with which the enemy had moved in and all but taken over the operation here. He glanced down at his datapad and studied the plan of the site, comparing it with the view in front of him for anything new. Finally he saw it. Though most of the collective soldiers were barracked at a large squat pre fabricated building a few hundred metres to the west of the facility, there was a smaller two level structure of similar construction on the site that was clearly their property. Their local site office. His target.

Between the warehouse he was stood on and the other side of the street was a thin pair of pipes that carried recycled air in and out of the buildings. Not daring to use his jetpack in the quiet night air he crouched down and made his way towards the pipe. Then he stopped. At the far end of the building opposite he could make out the armoured figure of a Collective trooper, watching the ground opposite where Senth was intending to go. Slowly He edged across the pipe, hoping no one below was looking up.

He reached the other side and began to move forward silently across the roof, keeping one hand close to the blaster pistol on his belt. The trooper did not move, and seemed to be watching someone moving about on the ground, his rifle held loosely in one hand. Senth moved slowly and as he did he moved his hand slightly and with practised efficiency withdrew the hidden blade from his belt, holding it in his left hand and his finger over he release button.

The trooper still did not sense anything behind him until a black armoured arm wrapped round his neck pulling him down and grabbing his helmet wrenching it up. Grabbing at the arm the trooper struggled until a sharp blade slid into the gap between his armour and into his jugular. As warm blood spurted out Senth slowly lowered him to the ground rolling on his back. Senth held the trooper down until he was dead then looked over the edge. The Technocrat site office was opposite, the main entrance guarded by two troopers and another walking about on the roof. Senth breathed a sigh of relief. The security was not as bad as he had feared.

Slowly he crouched down into a firing position, taking the silenced blaster carbine from his back and sighting along the barrel. The guard on the roof was slightly out of range and he waited patiently, until the man began walking towards the nearest edge. Senth focused on his face and when the moment felt right he fired, aiming his shot to the eye sockets on the enemy's helmet. The guard slumped to the ground, sprawling backwards on the roof. The guards below outside the door had not reacted and stood still. Satisfied Senth replaced the rifle and with a quick glance to the area below he slipped down to the ground.

He quickly darted across the street, his pistol now held in his hand. There was a narrow gap between the Collective site office and the edge of a building his plan identified as the miners canteen. From within there emerged faint smells of food and the sounds of conversation. Senth made his way around through the gap and slowly looked around the edge. A lone trooper was stood facing out into the night. Taking a deep breath Senth sneaked forward and with the same quick movements dispatched him with his blade, then dragged the body back into the gap. Satisfied he walked around the back of the site office. There were two windows on this side, one on each level. Utilising his parkour skills he quickly climbed up to the upstairs window, and keeping a grip with his left he took took the arc welder from his backpack and began his work.

Erok Drook of the Technocrat Guild walked slowly back to the office, ignoring the fearful glances of the mining personnel who passed him giving a wide berth. Behind him two troopers followed respectfully. He was tired but satisfied. In the short time since they had been invited to take over the mining facility he was proud of his teams progress. The quantity of kiber crystals secured exceeded even their optimistic estimates. If all went well by the time the infidels from the Dark Brotherhood arrived they would have completed shipment. He smiled. His promotion was assured following this.

The two troopers either side of the doorway stood to attention as he passed. He ignored them. He glanced down at his clothing in distaste noticing it was dirty and dusty, as was he. He turned to his own guards. “I am returning to my room. I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Yes sir.”
He made his way inside. The interior hallway was simple with lights on the walls and ceilings and several doorways leading off. A staircase lead upstairs which he took. He he walked along the corridor to the room at the end and bent slightly for the scanner to read his retina. There was a satisfying beep and the door slid open and he stepped through.

Inside was his personal quarters, small but functional, a desk at one end, a single bed at the other, and a small shower cubicle. He gave a slight smile when he noticed his favourite bottle of liquor had been replaced on the desk next to a small glass by a thoughtful servant. He quickly undressed, placing his dirty clothes in a bin and taking his robe from the back of the door and slipping it on. It was then he felt a slight draft and looked in puzzlement at the window, noticing a slight gap.

He was just registering this when an armoured glove clutched his throat from behind and an arm wrapped around his body. He struggled, his enhanced limbs fighting against the grip. He managed to twist and faced off against his assailant, a tall figure in black armour. They struggled for a few seconds as he tried to dislodge the grip squeezing his throat, before he was pushed backwards against the wall. He flailed out with his free hand ineffectively striking the helmeted head before his own was smashed backwards against the wall. He continued to struggle until his vision began to dim. He felt himself lowered to the floor.

He awoke a few minutes later feeling the unpleasant feeling of liquid splashing over him and the familiar smell of his favourite liquor. He was naked, and his wrists and feet were tied with his robe belt and what felt like the cable from his viewscreen. The armoured figure was stood over him pouring. After a few seconds the empty bottle was dropped to the floor.

“Welcome back,” the figure said quietly.
“Brotherhood scum,” Erok spat, “are you one of their slaves?”
“Save your insults,” the figure told him, “we have much to discuss.”
“I'll tell you nothing.”
“That would be unwise,” the figure replied, “and do not bother shouting for assistance. You make these buildings well. No one will hear.”
“Do your worst,” the Technocrat spat, “I do not fear death.”
“That is fortunate,” the figure replied, “as you are to die.”
Erok closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Very well. So why would I tell you anything? What difference would it make?”
“The difference is how you die.” The figure produced a small blade in his left hand. “This is the easy way.” The other hand rose holding an arc welder. The figure gestured it towards the trail of the flammable liquor that spread across the floor and covered Erok's own naked body. “There is of course a harder way.”
Evok closed his eyes again. “I see.”
The figure replaced the blade in his belt and took out a datapad, pressing a few buttons until a recording light began to flash. “Now I am going to record what happens next. I would prefer it to be your confession.”

Security Headquarters.
Lyra Colony
The Following Day

Amara Cirrus entered her office irritably and sat at her desk. So far nothing was clear. The Dark Brotherhood attack made no sense to her. Their quick and brutal attacks had served to shake up the populace and the senate but it was a flawed strategy. They had made no obvious territorial gains. And their fleets, conspicuous by their absence, were either reacting slowly or they had another target in mind that escaped her. The facts currently presenting themselves pointed towards their guilt but it was not her job to make quick assumptions, she left that to the politicians.

She glanced up at a polite knock at the door. “Come!” she barked.
The door opened and a servant entered, a human with short, dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was carrying a tray. “I have brought your lunch Sir,” he said nervously without meeting her gaze.
“Put it on the table and leave.”
He nodded. “At once Sir.” He quickly placed it the tray on the table, and then with a bow he scurried out.
She sighed. She was actually hungry. She walked over to the table and sat down, pulling the tray towards her then frowned. The plate was unlevel, and when she moved it there was a datapad under it. Picking it up she noticed it was unlocked and a light flashed indicating it had a recorded message.

Fifteen minutes later she turned to her deputy, a powerfully build and thoughtful man. “So what did you make of that?”
He considered it for a moment. “It was clearly obtained by coercion.”
“Obviously,” she replied, “he was bound and naked. But it has an air of truth to it I find disturbing. And why deliver it like that when they could have transmitted it directly to the senate?”
“Have they found the servant who brought it?” her deputy asked.
“No he has not been found,” she replied. She steepled her fingers, “tell no one of this. We will investigate. If it proves to be a cheap attempt at manipulation we will report that. If not then it might lead to something bigger. Send someone you trust to Thillion.”
“At once Sir.”