The settlement of Dreshdae was on fire. Most of the inhabitants had fled in the past few days as the fighting first broke out. By now the town had been held by Odan-Urr, Taldryan, and at present the Iron Throne's Nephilim had barricaded the streets. Snipers peered from broken windows and the soldiers of the Iron Throne rifled through every safe, databank and storage closet they could find. What they could not use, they burned.
Colyn Skybender stood with Scion Altera at the top of a ridge overlooking the town. The two men looked a little like long-lost brothers. Both wore military uniforms, both stood about the same height, and both looked on at the burning town with the hardened gaze of someone who has watched many men die.
"The scrolls aren't here, are they?" Scion's query hung in the air, but he already knew the answer before the other man said it.
"No."
"Any idea who has them?"
"Connor Grey. He's a relic hunter. Our sources tell us he was here trying to book passage off planet. I think he must have succeeded. We'll burn this town to the ground, then get back to the Valley."
Scion nodded in agreement.
"We'll get him," said Colyn. "He can't have gone far."
"I have no doubt."
Scion did not allow himself to smile. He knew that Connor Grey was, in fact, aboard the *Magnus Kaerner* being interrogated at this very moment. Last night's patrol had been successful, and the scrolls were now safely stowed in his office. His meeting with Lord Ashen's general, Colyn Skybender, was merely a formality at this point.
Darth Aeternus had made his way into the town a few hours ahead of the Nephilim. Taldryan forces still controlled it, but the battles in the Valley had required them to draw down their defense. Stationed in the hills near the town, scouting teams had kept eyes on the main roads and a few key buildings including the Drunk Side tavern.
Darth Aeternus had just walked up to the checkpoint, where he had said something very convincing to the post commander.
"I'm just here for an ale at the tavern," said Darth Aeternus. "You will clear me for passage into the town."
"You're just here for an ale, that's fine," said the Captain. "I'll clear you for passage into the town."
Aeternus smiled as the Captain handed him a set of papers.
"Thank you, Sir. Here's a few credits so you can get an ale on me when you're off duty. Have a good night."
The Tarentae passed into the town, disappearing into the shadows as soon as he was out of sight of the guard post.
"CIC this is Eternal. I made it inside the town. En route to the tavern now. Over."
"Eternal. We have not observed the target leaving the tavern. Please proceed as planned. Over."
"Affirmative. Over."
The Drunk Side was a large, duracrete construction. Booths lined the walls, and the bar was built as a large circular establishment in the center of the room. The walls were scrawled with graffiti, and there were only a handful of regulars sitting at the tables. Connor Grey seemed to be a few drinks in, speaking loudly to the Rodian behind the bar.
"That's **not** how you make a Sarlacc Pit! Where'd you learn to mix drinks, the spice mines on Kessel?"
The Tarentae slipped inside and walked up to the bar, next to Connor.
"Mr. Grey, I presume?" asked Darth Aeternus.
"Who wants to know?" Connor scowled at him.
"I'd like you to come with me," said Aeternus.
"Yeah, I bet you would."
A flash of light erupted around Connor, and Aeternus instinctively shielded his eyes. When he opened them, Connor was gone. He whipped around and was out the door in a flash, until he realized that he couldn't sense Connor's presence in the Force at all.
"Frak!" he muttered.
At this time about half a dozen men around the tavern had stood up from their tables and were staring at the man in the doorway. Their hands were all tucked inside their coats and Aeternus decided it would be prudent to duck out around the corner for a moment.
"CIC. I lost him. Did you see him leave the building? Over."
"Negative. No activity outside except for you, Sir. Over."
Aeternus frowned. *He must still be in there. Some kind of illusion?* The Tarentae ducked back around the corner and strode into the room, exuding confidence.
"All you mother-karkers are about to die, unless you bring Connor Grey to me. Right. Now."
Shots rang out. In a fluid motion Darth Aeternus activated his lightsaber. The cerulean blade caught the incoming blaster fire and effortlessly redirected it back to each of the shooters. In an instant he was on top of the nearest standing foe, his blade punched through the man's heart. Whipping around, he sent a massive shockwave into the bar, hurling the Rodian bartender over it and into the far wall. He was making his way across the room to the last man when a glimmer caught the corner of his eye. Planting his foot, he reached out to the last man with the depths of the Force and flung him with a considerable amount of force through the glimmer.
*grunt* "Ah, kark me!" exclaimed a voice. The Tarentae was on Connor in a second as he shimmered into visibility. "Don't stick me! I'll come quietly! You've made your point, mate!" Aeternus grimaced, and hit him hard on the head with the hilt of his lightsaber.
"CIC. I got him. Prepare for evac. Over."