DS trooper is an inconsistent mix of (small scale) 'ruthless soldier' and 'selfish jerk' and doesn't always involve following orders. You basically end up being a petty thug/bully. If you "wanna a batsh*t murderer", you're better off with a Sith Warrior.

There were six of them waiting for us in front of the Organa vault. The pair to the rear of the group looked like mere padawans; they had the smooth and unblemished features of callow youths that had yet to see any action and I could easily sense their hesitation and fear through the Force. I could not understand why Master Organa and his comrades had brought them – they did not intimidate me, and would be a hindrance to him and a danger to themselves if the worst were to happen. The three other strangers – a pair of male humans in their 30s and a slightly younger Twi’lek woman- looked more imposing. All three looked to be in fine fighting form and radiated cool serenity through the Force. Though I still hoped to peacefully resolve the situation, their stoic demeanor troubled me. They did not seem eager to provoke a battle, but I also sensed that they were not particularly interested in negotiations, either. They were arrayed in a pyramid, and at the head was Nomar Organa, who was looking the part of the grizzled Jedi Master. His hands were balled into fists that were planted firmly at his hips. “You brought a friend, I see.” Organa’s voice was cold and unfriendly. “This would have been easier without the Dashade.” I noticed that his hands remained away from his lightsaber. It was not much to rest my hopes on, particularly given the power of the Force, but it was something. Something is better than nothing, is it not? “I was not aware that transferring an artifact required an entire squad of Jedi. If I did not know you to be such an honorable man, I might even wonder if you consider me a threat.” I flashed a fake smile, then gave each of his compatriots a casual glance, as if I hadn’t a care in the galaxy. I only hoped that the Force would help me find a way out of Organa’s trap. “I thought we had an agreement, Master Organa.” “Did you really think I would make a deal with a Sith?” His final word was practically spat out and clearly meant as the nastiest of insults. “I would never turn such a valuable artifact over to a vile creature perverted by darkness and evil.” “You are not turning the artifact over to Khem, though.” That earned me a glare from both Organa and my faithful companion which made it necessary to hide the smile I wanted to show. “Regardless, I thought the Jedi way was to promote understanding and peace? Perhaps I was mistaken about that, though.” Organa’s face darkened. Stupid girl. The sarcasm was unnecessary and unhelpful. “You dare try to play the victim, Sith? When you and your kind are guilty of committing the most heinous of crimes and celebrate the depths of depravity to which you sink while the galaxy suffers? Did you think I would simply kowtow to your violence and excess out of some misguided misinterpretation of the Jedi Code?” His features twisted into something quite ugly. “You must think me a fool.” He nodded to the knights behind him, who spread out from their previously tight formation. Organa remained at their head, but shrugged his robes off and brought his hand down onto the butt of his saber’s hilt. The implication was clear, and I realized I was quickly running out of time to find a diplomatic solution to my predicament. The only apparent hesitation from the Jedi came from the two padawans, who hovered behind their compatriots and appeared more than a little uneasy with how the situation was developing. Tread carefully. I steeled myself and took a deep breath to center myself. “I thought you an honest man. I came to this planet seeking the artifact and have gone about my business peacefully. I worked with Rehanna Rist to contact you when I could have threatened her life instead. I have done my utmost to avoid violence and conflict. It is you that have proven unworthy of trust.” I snuck in another breath. “I still wish to complete our arrangement as we agreed to. I only ask that you reciprocate.” “You bore me, Sith. You prattle on with your denials that even you cannot believe.” The so-called Jedi waved a dismissive hand in my direction. In truth, it was the dismissiveness that disturbed me more than the hostility. A Jedi that did not trust a Sith was understandable and someone I could reason with, while a Jedi that denied me my own agency was something else entirely. “You speak of things you do not understand but think yourself wise. You stumble blindly in your own darkness and yet expect others follow.” It took a great deal of effort to squelch the flash of anger that followed his statement. “I know more of the light than you could ever realize, Master Organa, and I hope that you allow yourself to recognize that fact and consider it before resorting to violence. I have demonstrated a great deal of faith in you, and I merely ask you do the same for me.” I realized that my voice was growing more plaintive, but I knew we were perilously to a permanent breach; it was no time for games. “I have no quarrel with you, the Jedi or even the Republic. I am simply here for a single artifact.” Organa laughed harshly. “Did you really think I would be taken in by your inept attempts to portray yourself as some kind of servant of the Light, Sith? I am not even sure whether to call it stupidity or naivety.” He drew his lightsaber with a flourish and activated it, filling the small courtyard with its hum. “You and your fellow Sith here will be judged as the monsters that you are.” Fellow Sith? I heard the steps behind Khem and me before I sensed the man, though the oily sensation that resonated through the Force suggested he was a creature more than he was a person. Vular, the man that had started me on the path that had forced me to become what I had always known to hate. And lead me to this place at this time to confront Jedi who had once been my father’s brothers and sisters. A cruel twist, indeed. The Sith slithered forward to stand next to me and favored me with the kind of smile a used speeder salesman would offer a particularly gullible client. “A curious situation, my lady, to find you deep in discussion with a Jedi. Had I not known better, I might have even become suspicious of where your true loyalties lay.” His eyes narrowed as they fixated on the Jedi before us. “We shall have much to discuss after we discard of these fools.” “Silence, Vular.” I scowled balefully at him for a moment as I scrambled to find something, anything, to say to the Jedi that would placate them. “I did not invite this man with me…” I saw Organa’s eyes narrow and felt his heart harden. I realized that there was no time for any further bargaining or arguing. “Please, Master Organa. Use the Force, if you must, and see that I am being entirely honest about my intentions.” I swallowed hard. “I do not wish to fight you. My father was a Jedi –“ “Spare us your lies, Sith.” Organa’s eyes were open, but they did not see. It saddened me. “Even if your father was once a Jedi, he obviously was nothing more than a failure and a disgrace to the ideals of my order.” “You will not speak about him like that!” My entire face went red as my temper flared. And, as I was wont to do when that happened, I said something rather stupid, particularly with a snake like Vular next to me. “His name was Montclair Martell and he fought alongside for the Jedi and the Republic during the Great War.” I swallowed hard, nearly choking on bad memories. “He died your Jedi Order, too.” For a moment, Nomar Organa looked almost thoughtful as he sorted through his thoughts. “As I recall, he abandoned the Order during the war.” He was not sneering any more, but the disdain was impossible to miss. Or ignore. “And, regardless of who you might share blood with, you have thrown in your lot with the Sith. Perhaps your father taught you that as well.” He arched an eyebrow. “You bastard!” This time, there was no holding back the raging torrent of anger I felt inside. My saber was in my right hand, and purple lightning arced around my left. Mother always said that my temper would get me into trouble. Like Organa, though, I realized that I no longer controlled matters; our own biases and blindness had driven us toward this point, inexorably and without pity. I had been a fool to think I could peacefully resolve the situation just as much as Organa was a fool for assuming my intentions were anything less than honorable. And now it is too late to rectify those mistakes. “I do what I must,” I told him sadly. Though I recognized the necessity of my actions, I could not deny that they were also a perversion of the philosophy my father had taught me. Father had meant it in the sense that hard choices were sometimes required in order to accomplish something moral; this was an entirely different scenario; the greater good being the chance to remain a snake hidden in the Sith’s grass. I somehow doubted that he would have approved of this. I knew that I did not, either. The knights behind Organa all shot him inquisitive looks; none of them looked particularly comfortable with where events had dragged us all. ]Perhaps there is a still a chance to avert the inevitable. A furtive glance over my shoulder at Vular dispelled that notion quickly – his lips were curled into an almost feral grin, and he exuded the kind of deadly calm that a predator would wear the moment before launching itself on an unsuspecting prey. “Consorting with our enemy? Assisting the Jedi in their war against the Empire? And the spawn of a Jedi, no less.” The words rolled off of Vular’s tongue, silkily smooth to the last. “I must admit, my faith in your loyalty to our cause has been shaken. I imagine Darth Zash will be similarly disappointed.” “It is as I suspected, then.” Organa sounded resigned, but not entirely unhappy. Perhaps this was what he had been expecting all along. “We have nothing more to speak about, Sith. Your treachery had been laid bare for all to see. I will see you judged for it.” The two padawans slipped further away, until their backs were nearly pressed against the gateway to the Organa vault. I noticed that their hands remained far from their lightsabers, and I sensed no hostile intent from them. The same was not true for their companions. The Twi’lek had shrugged her flowing cloak off and was striding toward Vular, and the two men that had been flanking Nomar Organa were now lined up across from Khem, sabers at the ready. And opposite of me was the Jedi Master himself, a look of grim determination on his face. “Master Organa, I ask one last time for you to reconsider. I –“ His saber flew from his hand, arcing just past my right ear before returning to its master’s hand. Organa said nothing as it did so, and remained silent even as he launched himself toward me. He was far faster than I would have expected a man of his age to be. I rolled to my side and managed to avoid his initial attack, but my movements were slow and awkward. Not for the first time, I regretted the emphasis I had placed on non-physical training during the years after Korriban. He drove toward me again, forcing me to sluggishly avoid yet another attack that would have prematurely ended my head’s connection to the rest of my body. I interrupted his third attack with a wave of Force energy that caught him full in the chest and hurled him back ten feet. He grunted and fell to one knee, but did not appear to be seriously injured. I took advantage of the opening I had gained to quickly glance around the battle. The Twi’lek and Vular were still doing more dancing than fighting, their blades clashing only occasionally. Khem had apparently killed or grievously wounded one of his opponents, who was now lying face-first on the ground with a pool of blood slowly growing underneath his torso. The Dashade was steadily driving the other one back; I did not imagine he had much longer to live. And once that Jedi falls… Organa’s saber was slashing toward my face again – his strokes were wild and undisciplined, though, so I parried them away easily. His attacks were already getting sloppier, though they were more than enough to keep me on the defensive. I wondered if that might present me with enough time for one last attempt, but even as I opened my mouth, Organa swung viciously at my head and nearly decapitated me. “Speak no more, Sith!” His face was contorted with rage.” My heart sank, and I sighed heavily as I rolled away from another attack. I had tried my best and attempted diplomacy at every turn, all for naught. I had put my faith in Nomar Organa and the Jedi, but my open hand had been greeted by a mailed fist. These were not the Jedi my father had spoken of. These were not the Jedi that young children around the galaxy were raised to see as the guardians of what was right in the galaxy. Somewhere along the way, Nomar Organa had forgotten about the principles that his order championed, and he now had no more right to call himself a Jedi than I did. Nomar Organa’s expression was ugly and unpleasant as he charged yet again, this time with a more determined look, as if he had decided that my death was the only outcome that mattered. I stepped to the side, throwing him off balance, and again hurled a Force Wave at him. This time, I did not hold back any power, hitting him with enough energy to lift him off his feet and sending him hurtling across the path against a wall. His saber fell from his hand and – for a moment – I hoped I had managed to knock him unconscious, so I could avoid killing him, no matter how flawed he was. I was not so lucky, though, as Organa carefully picked himself up and called the saber to his hand just as Khem’s blade decapitated his opponent. Something flashed across his face; he looked a decade older than he had just moments earlier, all too much like Mother had the day the Jedi had come to tell us how Father’s secret mission had ended. For a brief moment, I felt something more than pity for him…the pained kinship that can be born only from grief. The moment passed quickly, though, and he was upon me a heartbeat later. His attacks were sloppier still, weighed down by his increasing sense of pain and loss. It was enough to feel even more regret that events had led us to this, but I could not feel guilt over the path Nomar Organa had chosen to walk. Not that I cannot attempt to dissuade him from it, even now. “Will you yield, Master Organa?” I dodged another blow and hoped he would see reason at last. There was no need for any more blood to be shed, and there never had been. I grimaced as Vular thrust his saber into the Twi’lek’s stomach, leaving her gasping for air in the background. “Your apprentices need not die here.” “If I die, I will become one with the Force. That is a fate far better than submitting to a Sith.” His chest was heaving as he spoke, but he had enough breath in him to spit in my direction. “I have accepted my fate. Have you?” My response died along with Nomar Organa himself. Suddenly and with surprising stealth for a creature of his size, Khem suddenly loomed behind him. Even as I reached out with one hand in a mute plea for mercy, the Dashade’s vibrosword slid into the Jedi’s back and exited through his rib cage. Organa’s face twisted with pain, and yet…his features softened somehow, perhaps because he truly was content with the fate before him. The hilt of his saber slipped out of his hand and hit the tiles below with a loud clanking noise as Organa himself fell silently to his knees, eyes slowly dimming even as they stared back at me almost plaintively. “I never meant for this,” I heard the girl from Ithaca whine pathetically. “I never wanted this.” Khem merely shrugged at my dismay, then turned his back on me to face Vular. As the two glared at each other, I could feel Organa fading away in the Force. His eyes fluttered twice, then closed, and then I sensed nothing from him. I felt the crushing weight on my chest become even heavier – the man might have been a dogmatic fanatic, but he had also known my father and had not always been the bitter man who had wanted me dead more than he wanted peace. I heard the snap-hiss of a lightsaber activating across the walkway from me, then a second. Glancing past Khem, I saw Vular striding purposefully toward the two padawans. The young men had drawn their weapons to defend themselves, but I could already that they would not survive for long against the likes of Vular and Khem. Hoping against hope, I strode forward and raised my voice, hoping to salvage something from the horror. “Khem, Vular…lower your weapons. I do not wish for any further bloodshed.” I casually brushed a stray hair off of my forehead, hoping to give the appearance of calm. Khem speared me with a dirty look; Vular’s expression was inscrutable. The two padawans exchanged a look and then re-raised their sabers, but I could sense their mixture of hope, relief and shame. I turned my attention to them. “If you lay down your weapons, you are free to go.” They did not respond to me. Instead, they began whispering furiously at each other in the hushed tones of two angry librarians. No doubt, they had the same concerns about trusting a supposed Sith that Nomar Organa had had, understandably made worse by the carnage that had unfolded in front of them. I could only hope that they would find it within themselves to see me for what I was rather than the monster they must have been told to see me as. Vular interrupted my ruminations with a sharp bark of laughter. “Spare these Jedi? What an…amusing…notion.” His eyes glittered for a moment before he continued. “Though perhaps not unexpected given your heritage. Yet another matter for Darth Zash to consider.” I felt a fire move down my neck and into my back, but managed to restrain myself. “That was simply a story I told to try to defuse the situation. I wished to avoid unnecessary conflict because it would delay my departure from Alderaan.” It was a poor attempt at a lie, and he brushed off with an amused smirk. “I suspected there was more to you than what scant information was in your records on Provar. At first, I merely assumed that the Force must have smiled upon me to discover a slave with such a strong connection to the Force, something which impressed Zash to no end. After further investigation, I discovered you displayed a level of skill that only appropriate training could allow for.” His eyes shone brightly, as if this was the culmination of his life’s work. “Of course, the labor camp records did name you as Veresia Martell. Curious, then, that your made-up Jedi father shared your name.” My jaw tightened as I contemplated my options, none were particularly appealing. Everything that could have gone wrong had done so, and it was now clear that I had erred greatly in revealing the information about my father. I should have recognized that Nomar Organa was never going to negotiate with a woman he considered irrevocably hostile to him. And you should have known that revealing what your father had been would not have gone unnoticed by the likes of Vular. “What is it you want, Vular? To expose my ‘dirty little secret’ to Zash to curry favor with her?” I attempted a confident smile. “Release these two Jedi and I can offer more; I will allow you to join me as I move forward.” He remained silent as he looked back and forth between the Jedi closest to him and me. Then, without warning, he reached out with the Force and ripped the lightsaber from the young man’s hands. The padawan’s eyes widened and were filled with fear. Before I could react, Vular reached out again and pulled the boy toward him until they were almost close enough to be touching. Only then did he turn back to me with a leering smile. “That is no longer sufficient.” Before either Khem or I could react, he activated his saber and slashed through the padawan’s stomach. The other apprentice, his mouth open in shock, took another step backward. I found myself unable to move. “I require more than merely ‘joining’ you as you move forward if I am to jeopardize my position in the Empire.” His eyes took on that unseemly glow again. “Especially given these sudden revelations about your past...they would not be well-received by many in the Empire.” I was still formulating a response when I sensed him – unexpected but as welcome as he ever had been. Rather than sputter at Vular, I turned to face the dashing hero of the hour as he hurried up the ramp. When he arrived, brandishing his deactivated lightsaber before him, I smiled warmly, but refrained from running to him. There were serious matters to attend to. “Quorian. I did not realize you were still on Alderaan. I am glad that you are. Very glad.” He did not return the smile, and even seemed uncertain about how to greet me. His eyes maneuvered across the area, narrowing the entire time. I felt a lump growing in my throat as I realized what he must be thinking. “This was not my doing, Quorian, you must realize that.” He scowled and scrunched his face up in the way he always did when he was unsure about something. “What happened?” I noticed that he was keeping his sight squarely on Vular and the surviving padawan. “And why is Master Organa dead?” there was an unpleasantly hostile undertone to his voice. “I was here to secure the artifact, as I mentioned to you before. Master Organa had agreed to turn the artifact over to me, recognizing that I had committed no misdeeds on Alderaan and that I had no ulterior motive. When Khem and I arrived, however, we realized that the entire arrangement was a trap.” I paused to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. So far, Quorian had merely nodded along with my story, which gave me hope that he would accept it. “I tried to convince him that his concerns about me were unnecessary but then he showed up.” I pointed at Vular, who simply laughed. Quorian glared at him. “Who is he?” “The Sith that took me from the camps and forced me into this life,” I replied. “The Sith that turned me into…this.” “Master Organa would not have reacted well to that.” He turned to face me and interrogated me with his eyes for what was only a minute but felt like forever. “There was no other way, then?” I shook my head. “I only defended myself when attacked.” “Sh-she’s telling the truth.” The padawan’s voice was weak and tinged with fear but was reassuring all the same. “She tried to stop all this from happening.” “If only her Dashade companion shared her restraint,” Quorian commented sardonically. I finally let out a loud sigh of relief as he continued, “What do we do with Vular?” The Sith remained silent, though I did not like how he was looking at the remaining padawan. There was only one viable solution, though, at least if I was to maintain my position. “He is a slaver and a murderer – not just the Jedi he killed today, but other innocents through the years. He is too dangerous to allow him to go free and does not deserve the mercy he denied to so many others. “I put additional emphasis on my final words. “Hard as it is, he must pay the ultimate price for his crimes.” Vular laughed. “She seeks to turn you into her executioner, Jedi. Would you allow yourself to be so easily manipulated?” His eyes glittered as his words sank in. “Or does she offer you something more than the chance to avenge your fallen comrades?” “The Jedi are not executioners,” Quorian said slowly, deliberately. “But Veresia is correct. I can’t allow you to leave here unless it is in my custody.” I shook my head violently. “You cannot let him escape punishment, Quorian. I…he does not deserve to live a life of luxury as a Jedi prisoner. Not after what he has done.” “Perhaps I do not intend to be a prisoner at all,” Vular snorted. “Perhaps I will simply kill you instead, Jedi. After I kill this whelp, of course.” With that, he turned and hurled his lightsaber at the padawan cowering in the doorway behind him. The poor boy did not even have time to scream. Quorian reacted first, activating his saber and moving into an en garde position. I followed suit, protecting his right flank. It was not until we had advanced another ten feet toward Vular that I realized Khem had not done the same. I turned to face him, giving him a quizzical look. “ “I am your companion, not your servant. I will not fight a Sith alongside a Jedi,” he said contemptuously. Quorian shot me a look out of the corner of his eye, but only for a moment. I gave Khem one last piercing glare before turning back to face Vular. The Sith had not moved the entire time, though I sensed his attempts to pierce my defenses and pry into my mind. It was a small joy to see a flicker of frustration as he failed again and again. “This is your last chance, Sith. Throw down your weapon.” Quorian took a step toward Vular and two to his left, putting more space between him and me so we would be properly spaced when we came to blows. After a minute of silence apart from our breathing, he turned to me with a sheepish grin. “Veresia, do you remember our third night here?” I flushed as memories…and more…flooded back to me. They confused me as well, for our third night on Alderaan had not included any activities related to fighting, however physical they might have been. “Enough! I will not be talked like some child.” Vular’s façade finally crumbled momentarily and the oily snake within revealed itself. “You wish to see me dead. I wish to see you try.” As he looked in my direction, he licked his lips as they curled into a feral smile. If Vular wanted to die, I was more than happy to oblige him. Quorian did not know him as I did, did not know the depths of the man’s evil. It was all well and good for him to fall back on Jedi principles, but Vular was not a man to be chained up. He was a beast, a purveyor of evil, and the galaxy would be a better place when it was rid of him. If Quorian was not up to that task, I was more than willing. The years I had spent as an Imperial slave and then a Sith pawn only fueled my desire to see Vular’s head on impaled on a sharp object. Quorian made the first move, an unsubtle feint at Vular’s right that did little except amuse the Sith, who chuckled slightly as he coolly sidestepped the maneuver and tentatively slashed at the Jedi’s face. Vular’s attack was no more successful than Quorian’s, and the two cautiously eyed each other in response. Feeling somewhat ignored, I sprayed Force Lightning at Vular, but he batted it aside with a contemptuous wave of his lightsaber. I repeated the maneuver, this time to serve as a distraction, but Vular was a step ahead of both of us. Even as my lightning crackled toward Vular’s left and Quorian advanced on his right, the Sith proved that his title was not as empty as I had thought. He caught the burst of Force energy on his blade and somehow bent its path, not toward me but rather so it caught Quorian full in the chest and sent him flying backward. His head and neck hit against a pillar with a distinctly unpleasant cracking noise, and his entire body went limp, though his chest still rose and fell enough to let me know he was still alive; a quick reaching out through the Force confirmed his survival. But he will not live for long unless you eliminate Vular. The sound of Khem’s delighted laughter confirmed that. The Sith was already halfway to Quorian’s prone body, enhancing his speed with the Force. There was no more time to play around with Force tricks. Instead of simply hurling Force energy at Vular, I called upon the…perverse…lessons I had been taught on Korriban and hit the Sith with a bolt of what could best be described as pure corruption. I realized that I was violating the trust that my father had placed in me when he had trained me on Ithaca, but Quorian’s life meant far more to me than a philosophical ideal. The blow staggered Vular as much as it seemed to thrill Khem. I followed up my attack quickly, heartened by the sound of Quorian quietly coming to his senses to behind me. I sent another bolt at Vular and then another. The first missed, but the second caught him in the face, turning his cheeks a delightfully sickly shade of purple. He snarled and charged at me, still capable enough to deflect my Force Lightning aside, though it required a great deal more effort than it had before. A few moments later and he was upon me, and there was no more time for anything but survival. Vular’s saber narrowly missed my neck and then my right shoulder, and it was all I could do to regain my focus and defend myself. Our sabers clashed again and again as we traded blows, but he could not find a way past my defenses. Where before I would have feared the ill-effects of my inexperience in combat and weariness from the fight with the Jedi, but I was determined that I was not going to die at the hands of Harrion Vular. Quorian was not going to die by his hand. And Khem would be there to watch as his precious Sith died at my hands. Parry, riposte. Parry, riposte. The critical blow was also an unexpected one. I had managed to drive Vular back several steps when he took another step back with his left leg and tripped over the outstretched hand of the Twi’lek Jedi’s corpse. His arms flailed as he frantically attempted to regain his balance, but he was not fast enough to deny me my prize. I sent a half-dozen bursts of Force Lightning at him as I sprinted toward him. He deflected some, but the rest sent him to the ground in a heap. As he attempted to push himself up, my boot caught him squarely in the jaw. When he then tried to raise his saber against me, I took his right arm off at the elbow. Vular’s screams were surprisingly pleasant to hear. “Ver-Veresia,” I heard Quorian say weakly. “Do not worry, I will ensure he is dealt with.” I did not imagine Quorian would be pleased with my decision, but it was mine to make – not his. Men like Vular had destroyed my world. This was justice, nothing more. I could feel Quorian reaching out to me again. “Don’t do this.” There was no point in wasting breath on a debate that had already been resolved. Vular was too dangerous to let free and too evil to let live. The Jedi could never allow themselves to see that truth and act upon it, because it would threaten their carefully cultivated sense of morality. I could and would…the people of Ithaca and a hundred other worlds would be avenged. I would be their voice where they had been silenced. Vular’s eyes turned toward me, offering a mute appeal that would have been laughable had the creature behind it not been so vile. My breathing slowed along with the rest of the world around me as I readied myself. There was no more time to be distracted by Quorian’s misplaced sense of ethics or Khem’s deviousness. My lightsaber hummed as it descended toward Vular’s neck and separated it from his body. Twitching and convulsing, the headless body fell to the ground with a loud thump. I heard Quorian groan and someone that sounded suspiciously like my father disapproving in my head. Then, there was nothing to hear but Khem’s laughter echoing across the platform.

I woke up to an aching back and an even more painful hangover, my first in a while. I was almost proud of myself. Normally I’d have just slept off something as simple as a few rounds at a cantina, but the situation with Jorgan made it feel like a headache-and-a-half and a simple solution wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t taken my decision well, but that didn’t make it feel much better – I had known him long enough that I should have realized Sighing, I pushed myself off the rock hard mattress and carefully navigated the rows of sleeping soldiers toward the fresher. The communal fresher was empty, which was fine by me – I hated competing with others when I just wanted to take a piss or clean up for the day. After relieving myself in one of the toilets, I stepped into one of the stalls and tried to shake off the cobwebs. The water didn’t feel that great when it was so damned cold, but it woke me up fine all the same. Once I’d shaken off the morning grogginess, I deactivated the refresher and hopped out to grab a towel. Normally, I’d have been a bit shy about displaying myself like that in a shared room, but I was trusting in the earliness of the hour to protect me. Fortunately, the Maker had evidently decided public humiliation wasn’t in the cards for me today. At least not yet. The Martell family jewels and I made it safely across the refresher room without attracting attention. Whistling softly to let anyone around me know how at ease I was, I toweled off and opened the locker they’d assigned me for my stay on the planet. I’d never had much time or interest in building a wardrobe even on Ithaca and life in the military had hardly changed my stance on the issue, so I didn’t have too hard of a decision ahead of me. Blue, blue-gold or blue-white. At least it’s not the dress blues. Shrugging, I slipped the blue-gold shirt over my shoulders and stepped into the least wrinkly pair of khakis I had hanging in the locker. I doubted the outfit would have passed muster under any kind of official scrutiny, but I figured nobody would say anything if I wasn’t completely reg-friendly as a tourist. Besides, it wasn’t like I needed to impress anyone with my outfit. Not with Elara locked away by Personnel Division at least. I scowled at that thought I grimaced and slipped out the side door to head toward the central hub of the barracks complex. The place was massive, way more so than a passerby could realize – like everywhere else on Coruscant, they buildings extended too far down to see with the naked eye. Most of the troops bunked in the complex were only temporary stays like Havoc, although I’d heard that people sometimes fought over the long-term bunks. I couldn’t quite understand why people would want to be tied down like that but I wasn’t entirely in a position to judge. There were more important things to worry about, anyway. Like how that bastard Kalor is treating Elara.General Garza had expressed her sympathies, but I’d gotten the distinct impression that it was a battle she couldn’t afford to fight at the moment and I wasn’t going to push things, not yet at least. It didn’t make me feel any better about how she was being treated, though, especially since the bastards were ruining her first time on Coruscant. She should have been out seeing the sights and enjoying life in the Republic she’d given everything up for in order to join. Instead, they had her stashed away like some kind of karking prisoner. I took a breath. Easy there, cowboy. Wasn’t any point in getting mad over things I couldn’t change, and there wasn’t any damn point in getting fixated on anything that was just going to piss me off. Or anyone. I scowled at myself as green eyes flashed in my mind. Then, I slapped my forehead to hopefully knock some more sense into myself. I had **** to do, and I couldn’t afford to distract myself any more. First stop was to check in at the communications center. It wasn’t that I expected any interesting messages, but some stupid part of me always hoped I might be wrong. At this early hour, the place was nearly deserted, with just a few scattered visitors and a gaggle of personnel buzzing around them. I slipped past a group of staffers and settled down in a relatively quiet corner of the room. A few keystrokes later, and I had a surprisingly long list of messages displayed on the screen in front of me. The first three were the usual general messages the military sent out about topics none of us really gave a **** about – minor changes to insignificant policies, announcements about obscure postings and promotions, that kind of thing. After getting out of the academy, I’d quickly learned not to waste my time fully reading the things, but they still annoyed the hell out of me anyway because they took time to skim and made it easier to miss the messages that count. There was another message from Legal Services about what they were calling the Nerf Steak Incident which I also ignored – Garza had secured the records and I had faith that they would stay safely classified. An obvious scam message from the “exiled prince of Nygeria III” made me chuckle slightly, but I tossed it aside too. More interesting was seeing that Dravis had sent me a message – maybe things were looking up. I reclined my seat until I was comfortable and fired the message up. “Ayrs, it’s been far too long.” As a gentle smile creased his lips, I couldn’t help but notice that he looked older than the last time I’d seen him, more run down too. I’d seen that look too many times in the mirror. “I know I’d promised to look into what Fillo MacTyre said on Coruscant about your sister. Sorry it took so damn long but you know how these things are.” Drav shrugged slightly and smiled apologetically. “Turns out, he was telling the truth. Sort of.” My heart was suddenly beating about a million times a minute. “It appears that Veresia was captured that day on Ithaca, and then sold into Imperial slavery by the pirates that had her. We lost her trail for a while after that – intelligence holes, unfortunately, and then we picked it back up. I –“ He didn’t really have to say anything after that, not with the way his face was all scrunched up. “I’m afraid she was sent to Dromund Kaas approximately a year ago. We don’t have any information beyond that, but….” Dravis sighed loudly. “I wish I could say otherwise, but you know what happens to slaves that are sent there.” I tuned him out for a moment; my mind was too busy racing to contemplate the possibilities to concentrate on what he was saying. The news about Veresia being sent to Dromund Kaas was bad, but if she’d been alive as recently as a year ago…well that meant something too. If anyone in our family would find a way to survive that, it was Veresia. And if she’s still out there, that means I can still find her. Save her. “…I think Mori’s worried about you. She said she hasn’t talked to you in a few weeks now. So don’t be a stranger. I’ll see you around.” Dravis’ message concluded with him grinning sheepishly into the camera, so I quickly exited out, returning me to the list of remaining unread holos. I was still feeling a bit giddy, so I even took the time to read through the message from the academy asking for a donation and recorded an apology to Captain Kalor for the somewhat less-than-diplomatic message I’d left for him after his previous call with Elara. It took some doing, but by the time I had finished I was pretty sure I’d be able to mend any fences I’d broken. Which left me with only the least desirable messages to view. My grandmother had never been around enough for me to find out much about what had happened with the Martell family back on Kuat that lead to her moving to Ithaca. Mom had filled in some of the details, mainly about how my grandfather had meant more to her mother than everything Kuat could offer. Mom had clearly felt the same way, which had left me pretty disconnected from all things Kuati. Not that you’d really want to spend time with them anyway. Bastards never lifted a finger for us except to ‘protect’ the *********** family name. Naturally, I was never thrilled on the odd occasion the Kuati Martells decided to bless me with a message and today I had two. Even ignoring the family drama in the past, I wasn’t at all happy to see a message from the high and mighty family patriarch, Demetrius. He had his uses - he’d helped me take out Fillo MacTyre after all – but he was about as bad as someone outside the Hutt Cartel or Empire could be. On the other hand, I couldn’t afford to ignore him if he had something important to say. Especially if it might be about Veresia. I activated his message and bit down on my tongue to avoid any vocal reactions. The old man’s craggy face appeared on the screen. “Ayrs, I hope this message finds you in good spirits. I was informed about your promotion to the rank of captain, and wished to congratulate you on the achievement.” What a *********** joke. Demetrius Martell hadn’t given a damn about my mother’s career in the military, and I’d seen nothing to suggest he felt any different about mine. If anything, he’d always been more than happy to tell me I was screwing up by joining up and staying on instead of ‘coming home’. “However, I require your presence on Kuat. The family requires your presence on Kuat.” I heard my teeth grinding against each other, so I paused the playback to calm down a bit. It was always the same with him – he was always willing to throw around ‘the family name’ as if he cared about the people that wore the name anywhere near as much as he did the name itself. Sometimes it seemed like he even believed his own ********, which was probably most frustrating at all – at least if he’d been honest I might have found it in me to respect him. Instead, he kept playing the same games long after any reasonable person would have tired of them. I felt like smashing the screen in, but realized it wouldn’t be worth the damage to my hand. “I realize that you have your own…opinions…regarding the family here on Kuat, but this is a matter of paramount importance. Given the assistance that I provided when tracking down the Imperial agent that murdered your mother and siblings, I ask only that you treat this request with the seriousness it deserves. Should you find yourself willing to accept your duties, I have arranged for your transport from Coruscant to Kuat at your earliest convenience. I understand that you are currently on leave, but this is of paramount importance. With that in mind, my associates have already secured a waiver for traveling off-planet.” Bastard thinks of everything. For a moment, I wondered who in the military had revealed that I was on leave in the first place, but I realized I probably didn’t want to know. There were enough headaches in my life without worrying about how far Demetrius Martell had infiltrated the Republic’s military hierarchy. The old man was so pleased with himself that he was almost smirking now. “I look forward to your arrival.” Mercifully, the message ended there – I probably couldn’t have handled more than another minute of his crap. I sighed softly and ran my hands through my hair before resting my face in my palms. I wished this was all just a bad dream, but Demetrius Martell was a nightmare I simply couldn’t wake up from. I glanced at the message list and was surprised to see Antigonus Martell’s name. As I started the message, I was displeased to see that he had his uncle’s weasel face. I forced down the bile and decided to give the man a chance, especially when his message started with an almost-genuine grin. “Ayrs, it’s been far too long. I know Uncle Demetrius isn’t the easiest to work with, but he is being honest and genuine this time. Even if it might be hard to believe at times. Or every time.” He smiled ruefully. “All that aside, he wants you to be a part of the family here. I realize that it’s hardly fair to expect you to use your leave to come to Kuat, but I think it would be a real step toward something better. I hope you consider it. We all want you to be more of a part of our lives here…and we want you to feel the same way.” The image winked out, leaving me with just my thoughts. Apart from Aunt Thalia, my Kuati family had never seemed too concerned with me after the funeral arrangements for my mother had been taken care of, except when they’d wanted something out of me. Usually, what they wanted was for me to abandon everything I had to be some other person that. I’d never had time for that kind of ********; I wasn’t ashamed to be who I was. If they were ashamed by me, I didn’t have time for them either. I stared at Demetrius’ HoloNet code for a couple of minutes. It was a bit weird how secretive they were being about the entire thing, but I figured it was just their way of feeling important and all-knowing even when talking with their own family. Still, even if it was important, I wasn’t all that sure I wanted to know about whatever was going on. As much as people loved spouting off about how ‘family is family’, maybe things were better that way, especially if what they wanted was to get me out of the uniform. Maybe it’s time to try to be the bigger man, though. Aside from the drama, I’d hoped I might get to spend time with the squad outside of our armor and the dingy spaceports and bases we operated out of. I wanted to get on the same page with Jorgan, to make it clear I still valued the hell out of having him on the squad even if he wasn’t what I thought an executive officer could be. Hell, if I could have gotten him promoted back to lieutenant without the XO position, I’d have jumped at the chance to do it. Judging from the way he’d ignored my message, it didn’t seem a détente was likely, though. Then there was Elara. I sighed, more loudly than I intended based on the looks I got. Even after serving with her for a few months, I still felt the same butterflies in my stomach that I’d had when I first met her..,felt like a damn kid really. Things felt more normal when she was around…they felt better, like they had before...everything had happened. I felt like I could talk to her about the things I’d avoided with Doctor Avant and couldn’t discuss with other people. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, there was between us but that didn’t really matter. Maker knew I’d wasted enough time hiding myself away. At the same time, I didn’t want to screw things up, either. Didn’t want to make her life any more difficult than it already was, didn’t want to get her in trouble with that bastard Kalor, and definitely didn’t want to ruin the squad or our friendship with unnecessary drama. Especially when she needed me as a friend and not an idiot with his head up his ***. **** me, what a mess. It seemed getting away for a few days might well be my best option. I punched in Demetrius’ code. It’d feel a helluva lot better to be pissed off at him than myself, and I really didn’t want to be thinking about Elara at the moment, not with the way that seemed to throw me off balance. Wouldn’t do anyone any good to let myself get distracted; it’d be a sure-fire way to get myself canned. Maybe Jorgan’d like that. Finally get that promotion of his. Demetrius’ unpleasant face suddenly popped into view on my screen, killing the smile that had been threatening to break out on my face. He looked a little older and more worn out than the last time we’d talked, but I knew better than to hope that he might have one foot in the grave. If death ever came for Demetrius, I was pretty sure he’d end up as the winner. His smile was surprising, though. “Ayrs, I am pleased to see you received my message. I trust all is well?” I snorted softly, knowing not to trust anything coming from his mouth that wasn’t condescension. “I did, and it is. I actually do have some spare time while we’re on leave, so I figured I could head on over to Kuat for whatever’s going on. Would’ve been nice to know what was going on, but I’ll let it slide.” “How generous of you.” This time it was his turn to snort. “There are several matters that require your presence, none of which I care to speak about over the Holonet. You will find my transport at the coordinates I attached to my previous message. Do you intend on leaving immediately?” “Sure, why not?” Wasn’t like I had much else to do, other than shoot off a message to the squad and General Garza to let them know what was going on, though the previous message had made it sound like Garza probably already knew. “Hope you’ve got me booked first class.” I laughed. He didn’t. “Of course. I look forward to your arrival.” The screen went blank, and the ordeal was over. Working quickly, I recorded a message explaining my plans to the rest of the squad and hustled back over to the barracks to pack what little I had, except for my combat gear – the one good thing about having a protocol droid attached to the squad was that it could handle mundane tasks like moving things from place to place and my taxes. Once that was all taken care of, there wasn’t much else to do than drag myself down to the hangar where the ship would be waiting for me. The ship Demetrius had arranged was about what I had expected – small and disposable enough to not represent any great investment but still luxurious enough to demonstrate the greatness of the Martell family or whatever. A pink-hued human – or a Zeltron, maybe – in a latex uniform that was tight and revealing in all the right places and gave me a good view of all of them. Any hope that she was a one-off miscalculation was exploded when I saw the rest of the crew lined up in the ship’s main corridor. They seemed to have been staffed out of a modeling agency or something, but not a reputable one. Not that I didn’t appreciate having attractive women around, but I didn’t like cheap stunts like this. Especially not with people Demetrius had bought, something he’d never understand. They were already beginning to circle around me like predators after prey, so I beat a hasty retreat to my cabin and locked the door behind me, dropping my bag behind me to add another obstacle. The room had a fresher, HoloNet access and a stocked kitchen, so I figured it would work well as my prison cell for the next few days. I’d survived worse, even if you didn’t count having to deal with Jorgan’s foul moods for days on end. After a quick inspection to ensure there weren’t any secret entrances for Demetrius’ harem to invade through, I plopped down in front of the desk and began browsing the Holonet for news. In the end, there wasn’t a whole lot, aside from some interesting news from Alderaan. Apparently, some Jedi had managed to push forward the peace talks and was being recognized as something called a Barsen’thor. Strange name, since sounded like one of those stupid words made up by the old sci-fi holovids. Other stuff was pretty standard-issue ‘news’ that was only news to people who had their head up their ***. Growing tension between the Republic and Empire, reports that the Hutt Cartel was moving to expand its borders within its region of the galaxy, crap like that. There was an odd report about a Sith-run cult on Nar Shaddaa that apparently was devoted to charity, but it sounded like some kind of tabloid nonsense. I sighed and glanced at the chronometer – I’d managed to waste all of ten minutes, leaving only a million left to burn until we got to Kuat. This is going to be a long-*** trip. I turned back to the console and logged into my account to find a message from Jorgan waiting for me, which led me to hope that he’d come around on the whole executive officer decision. Playing the message, which consisted of nothing more than an extended farting noise, quickly destroyed that foolish notion. With nothing to gain from dealing with Jorgan at the moment, I decided to send Elara a message to see how things were going. Some part of me felt a twinge of nervousness since she hadn’t replied to my previous one, but I figured Kalor probably had something to do with it. More like I hope it did. As I punched her code in, though, I was interrupted by an alert that I had an incoming transmission; as I switched channels, I hoped like hell that it wasn’t Demetrius. “Oh, uh, hello Sir.” Elara’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I-I was just going to leave a message. I did not realize you would be picking up.” “I did not realize I would be either.” I shot her a wolfish grin, trying to cover up my embarrassment. “And call me Ayrs when we’re off-duty, please. I like it better that way. Because it’s not too formal, I mean.” I felt my own cheeks flushing. “Because it’s less awkward that way, of course.” Shut up shut up shut up. She smiled slightly and the reddening in her cheeks subsided somewhat. “Of course, si-Ayrs. I wished to thank you for your message – spending my leave with Personnel Division has been more problematic than I anticipated and I appreciated having something else to think about. Not that they allow me much time to myself.” “Sorry to hear that, Elara. I guess I’m not surprised but that doesn’t make it any better” I frowned and tried not to think too much about what she’d thought about my pretty bland message. “Is it Kalor giving you a hard time again? If he’s the one behind it, I’d like to see what I can do to help, maybe bring Garza in too if we need the big guns.” “He is the one spending most of the time ‘debriefing’ me on my activities, yes, but you need not worry about the situation – I am sure it will be resolved without too much additional effort.” Elara was speaking a bit slower than usual, more deliberately. “I do not wish to cause any unnecessary trouble.” “Helping you isn’t ‘unnecessary’, Elara.” I frowned. “I still wish there was something more Garza or I could do to help, though. Can’t we challenge him under some regulation or something? I can’t imagine this level of interference with an active-duty unit is accepted?” She smiled. “Captain Kalor is an annoyance, but he is acting within the bounds of regulations, given his position. In any case, such treatment is a small price to pay for a clean conscience.” She brushed a stray hair from in front of her eyes. “With luck, Captain Kalor’s concerns will be assuaged by the time you return to Coruscant and we can rectify the present situation.” Elara flushed again and broke eye contact. “If the squad requirements my presence, that is.” I swallowed hard to keep myself from saying anything stupid off the cuff. “That-that would be great.” I found myself scrambling for a response. “Uh… you’ve never been to Coruscant, have you? If you haven’t, then you’ve probably never seen a lot of the stuff there.” I cringed visibly as I finally managed to shut myself up. I was relieved that she did not seem to have the same reaction. If anything, she just looked a little more flustered, something my inner idiot thought was kind of cute. “Uh, maybe I could show you around. Or something.” Shut up shut up shut up shut up. “Yes, it is my first time on Coruscant. I imagine it would be quite nice to play the tourist.” She looked away from the camera for a second before looking back at me. “I would…greatly appreciate and enjoy…your company should you wish to join me.” Her eyes twinkled for a moment. “Perhaps we can convince Personnel Division to release Aleksei as well.” My stomach did a barrel roll. Careful. Careful. Don’t **** things up. “Sounds like it’d be fun. I’m, uh, not sure about your brother tagging along. Last time I heard from him –“ I cut myself off before I could get myself into trouble. The last time I’d heard from Aleksei Dorne was when he had threatened to kill me if I hurt Elara in any way. “Uh, he mentioned he hates museums.” She glared at me, mostly playfully – I hoped – for a moment. I decided to risk a joke. “Maybe we can bring Forex with us to tell us about how each place represents the inexorable Republic march to victory over the dastardly Empire.” Elara laughed lightly; it was real nice to hear and made me feel less likely to explode from the tension, at least until she shot me a warm smile. “Unfortunately, I'm due for a meeting. I...I look forward to your return, sir-Ayrs.” “Me too,” was all I could think to say before the connection closed, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Back on Corulag, they’d sent me to counseling to deal with the ‘issues’ they figured I was facing after Ithaca, but I hadn’t needed some doctor to know that I had already begun withdrawing from the relationships I had with the people around me. It was too damned hard to deal with the fallout when things went bad, too damned painful to pick up the pieces, and too damn much to face the consequences of opening myself up. It’d been a miracle that Ris and I had lasted as long as we had, since I’d always felt so much safer without the complications. I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel safe anymore. I leaned over to the cooler and pulled out a bottle of beer, twisting the cap off carefully. I hadn’t been entirely honest with myself before – I have feelings for Elara, but it was more than just that. I couldn’t really explain it; maybe it was just knowing she’d been dealing with her own vulnerabilities having left her entire life behind or something, but she almost made it feel okay to open myself up and feel a bit vulnerable again. Whenever I thought about spending time with her after getting back to Coruscant, I felt light-headed. ****, now you’re really asking for trouble. I spent the rest of the trip watching holovids and the ever-rising tab for the food and drinks I was taking from the kitchen. I also took full advantage of the HoloNet access, though I couldn’t help but be disappointed that I only received a couple of additional messages, even if one was Elara providing a list of places she wanted to visit. Whatever I’d gotten out of that was one quickly forgotten by the disturbing message from Forex that consisted of the droid ‘singing’ various patriotic songs it had written. I’d felt a little nauseous after that one. The ‘crew’ came by a few times to try to their luck again, but once they’d gotten the hint that I wasn’t interested they left me alone quickly enough. Fortunately, whoever was piloting the ship ended up being worth their paycheck – they got us there a day ahead of schedule, sparing me any further embarrassment and saving the family a decent amount of credits. Normally, I’d have gone up to the cockpit to offer my thanks, but I decided discretion was the better part of valor, and ducked into an auxiliary corridor to make my escape instead. The heat was unbearable and nearly overwhelmed me the moment I stepped down the ramp – I guessed it must have been the height of summer or something. Demetrius Martell was waiting for me at the bottom of the ramp, standing in front of a pair of his luxury speeders. A couple of lackeys were behind him, probably to ensure he had someone’s head up his *** at all times. Demetrius shot me a suspicious look as I clambered down the ramp; I ignored it, hoping to frustrate him. It didn’t seem to faze him much, but it made me feel a little better, which was good enough for me. I gave him a derisive wink as I pulled up in front of him. “Uncle, so glad you could find time in your busy schedule to see me.” I jerked a finger back at the ship. “I could have done without your cheap setup, though. What the hell were you thinking?” “As irreverent as ever, I see.” He sounded even older and more worn out than he had over the HoloNet. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “That being said, I am glad to see you found the time in your busy schedule to attend to this business.” I snorted with amusement – I couldn’t deny he’d gotten one over on me. “What’s going on exactly? Neither you nor Antigonus were kind enough to let me in on what was so important. I had other stuff I could have been doing.” I tried real hard not to think about that. “All in good time. For now, please allow my associates to direct you to your quarters.” Then, without bothering to wait for me to respond, he rotated his repulsor-chair and maneuvered it into place in one of his speeders. One of the black-suited men behind him popped into the driver’s seat and they left without saying another word. I glanced suspiciously at the second man, who was standing as still as a statue while at attention. Garza’d be impressed by this guy, I think. I didn’t feel like standing around to melt, so I motioned at him to let him know I was ready to go. We both hopped into the vehicle – a nicely upgraded Melkor – and followed the other speeder toward the architectural symbol of overcompensation that represented the Martell family ego and greed in one easy-to-enjoy structural masterpiece. Overly elaborate columns lining the road, ivory towers reaching toward the sky, and everything else your average plutocrat needed to rub their wealth in the faces of the less fortunate. The driver turned away from Demetrius’ speeder after we passed through the inner security gate and dropped me off in front of the guest quarters they’d apparently arranged for me. My five credit tip earned me a scowl rather than gratitude, but he probably didn’t realize that having the Martell name didn’t mean I had a Martell’s bank account. I made a mental note to ask Garza about increasing our pay. Demetrius might have been a huge ******e, but a single glance around the suite made it clear that he didn’t skimp on treating his guests; new appliances, top-quality everything. I dropped my bag on the floor and hopped onto the bed, which was luxurious and – more importantly - big enough for a Hutt. Felt like it, too. I decided to take a nap, to make sure I had enough energy to deal with the family later on. I was dreaming pleasant dreams of Ithaca as I drifted off. The room smelled of perfume and was pitch black when I woke up, which seemed a bit weird since I hadn’t turned off the lights and definitely didn’t bother with scents. I wasn’t sure why one of the old man’s servants would have done that but -. It suddenly occurred to me that my shirt was missing too. Maybe I’m drunk. I hope I’m drunk. Unable to see, I reached out blindly with my right hand and discovered I was not alone in the bed, which I definitely remembered as being the case when I fell asleep. Tentatively, mostly because I was afraid I might get myself further in trouble, I reached out until I touched the person’s hair. Long and thin plus the perfume. I wonder if Demetrius sent one of the transport crew in. It took all of my self-control not to scream or roll into the fetal position. I finally broke when I felt her hand across my chest and heard her murmur something out of an adult holovid; I sprang out of bed as quick as a Kowakian monkey-lizard and backed away carefully. The woman, whoever she was, clapped her hands twice. For some reason, the lights came on right after, letting me see her for the first time. About my age and a nice body. With her brown hair parted like it was, she almost looked like Rissa…. I frowned. “Who are you? What are you doing in my room?” I tried to keep my voice even, since she was probably only here because of the old man. No point in scaring the poor woman. “I am telbun,” she replied, as if that answered everything. “What the hell’s a telbun?” I had the distinct impression I wasn’t going to like the answer. She looked confused for a moment before her face lit up with a sudden realization. “I am sorry for the confusion, my lord, but I had forgotten that you have not lived on Kuat.” “Uh, that’s fine.” The sweat was starting to escape onto my neck. “So what’s a telbun?” “I am here to help preserve the Martell name,” she said matter-of-factly, as if telling me the day’s weather. “By bearing your child.” “Oh,” was all I could manage before I hit the floor.

So after a move, lack of internet access, job change and various other things, I return. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Elana Thul was waiting for us at the speeder pad when we arrived. I noticed a sharp uptick in activity kn the area; dozens of Thul soldiers and support personnel were scurrying about the area like headless chickens. There were at least three dozen heavy tanks lined up toward the road leading north out of the palace, and behind them were another fifteen or so armored vehicles, quite the formidable display of firepower. Ayrs would have been so excited to be here...if he was not charged with blowing it all up. I smiled slightly, but the warm memory quickly turned sour in my mouth and I spat to the side of me, as if that would remove the bitter taste. I forced a smile for Lady Thul as she approached our speeder. “Greetings, Lady Elana. I was informed that you might be in need of some assistance.” I hoped that my similarly forced interest in the troubles of House Thul was not too obvious. “Yes, yes. It is good to see you, my lady.” Her disheveled appearance belied the routine nature of her words – clearly something had gone quite wrong for her house. I carefully maintained my concerned expression, adding a dash of sympathy. “I fear that the situation has become quite dire over the past several days. Had events proceeded otherwise, I would not have thought to impose upon you, but...” She trailed off. “Go on. What is it that you need?” I motioned for her to continue. I was enjoying this topic far too much for the conversation to end so abruptly. “Of course.” She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it slightly. “Our war against House Organa has taken a decided turn for the worse over the past week. A secret arms project was d, and Duke Organa was able to enlist the aid of several Jedi to capture Bouris Ulgo and return House Panteer to the throne. Naturally, they have thrown their support behind the Republic, and we now face invasions across our territory.” “Is there nothing that can be done to rectify the situation?” It was growing harder to contain my desire to smile, and I sensed that even Khem was having a similar problem. “I sent Urtel Moren with several other Sith to join our conventional forces in an attack on an Organa palace to our northwest where their Jedi allies were congregating. We received a transmission from him approximately a half-hour ago, stating that they were encountering heavy resistance.” She licked her lips. “I ordered additional forces to join the attack, but I am still concerned about the situation.” “If I were in your position, I would be concerned as well.” I just barely managed to contain a smirk. “What is that you are desire from me?” To her credit, Thul looked slightly embarrassed to be essentially begging for assistance. “I will be leading further reinforcements…these soldiers and vehicles you see before you. I am requesting that you join us in the assault at the head of another relief column.” I shook my head. “I am afraid that my assistance is not something I can offer – my mission is of paramount importance, even more so now that the strategic situation has been altered so drastically.” Her face fell, which inspired a strange pang of shame in me. “However, I may become available as time goes on. I cannot say anything definitively until I learn more about the progress of my own mission.” She nodded tentatively. For a moment, I thought that she might argue with me further, but my reassurance seemed to assuage her fears. At least for now. “Will you be waiting here at the palace, my lady? It is a lengthy trip to the Organa compound.” “For the moment.” Truth be told, I was not entirely sure how best to pass the time while I waited for Nomar Organa’s response. The Elysium was located fairly close to the Organa palace that the Thul forces were attacking, but I was not particularly interested in loitering in that area, particularly if it meant being out and exposed with only Khem for company. In addition, the Jedi might well view my presence in or near a Thul attack force to be sufficient reason not to turn the artifact over to me. “I anticipate that I will be leaving shortly, though - my final objective is within reach. Perhaps I will have news for you sooner than you anticipate.” “I understand. I wish you luck, my lady. May both of our efforts prove fruitful.” She bowed her head slightly, and then strode off toward a thick-chested man that appeared to be the commander of the forces Elana Thul was taking with her. I turned to Khem, lowering my voice to avoid being overheard. “I do not wish to be here for any longer than is necessary, but I also wish to avoid committing ourselves to what will likely be a futile assault on the Jedi. Do you have any ideas?” I could have stopped there, but I could not resist. “Perhaps some inspiration from the spirit of Tulak Hord?” Khem’s face darkened. “You should not toy with me, Little Sith. You are not as capable as you believe yourself to be, and my patience for your games grows thin. Our bond is strong, but if it becomes a leash, it can be broken.” “Perish the thought, Khem. I simply wanted to hear your opinion on the situation.” I flashed another of my patented smiles at him, which did not seem to go over too well. “We should join the Thuls in their attack.” For a moment, I was caught off guard by the Dashade’s sudden interest in Alderaanian politics. Then, I realized that Khem did not give a damn about the Thuls or their war; he simply wanted the chance to murder some Jedi. A part of me wanted to give him what he desired. Most likely, some Jedi would die, but so would Khem and the Thuls. I knew that idea was wrong even as I first contemplated it, though. The Jedi did not deserve that fate. Most of the Thul soldiers did not, either. I was not entirely convinced that Khem did, either, despite his terrifying presence and ominous intentions. So far, he had proven his worth as a traveling companion, and had remained true to his word that he would obey my commands…even if I could never entirely trust him. None of which helped much in deciding what to do while waiting for Nomar Organa. Perhaps it would be best to simply make myself scarce for the time being. I only wish that I had thought to ask Quorian to stay longer so I could return to him. Unclipping my comm from my belt, I gave in to desperation. “Revel? Are you there?” I bit down gently on my lip, almost as eager to end the conversation as I was to hearing whatever ideas he might have. “Do respond, if you can.” There was a burst of static and what sounded suspiciously like Revel chuckling. “Is that you, Sith? It’s been so long since you honored me with a social call.” “Indeed, it is a rare honor for you.” I contemplated testing the hypothesis I had read in a Sith tome on Korriban about the possibility of Force Choking someone across a communications connection. “You must be so proud of your accomplishment.” I tried to ignore the sudden appearance of a twitch in my eye. “You need something, Sith? I’m taking some of the goods I picked up bac to your ship.” I was pleasantly surprised that he had enough self-awareness to refer to it as my ship. “Do try to control your excitement at hearing from me, Revel, difficult as it is.” I tried one of my father’s old Jedi calming techniques before continuing. It only helped a little, but I had long ago learned that every little bit of additional self-control was always helpful. “I find myself in need of something to pass the time for the next few hours.” “You didn’t mention anything about providing entertainment when you brought me into your crew, Sith. Heh. What did you have in mind?” I ducked into a less crowded corridor, eyeing the passersby carefully to ensure none were eavesdropping on the conversation. I could ill-afford a slip up that would tip the Thuls off as to my true intentions. My voice was a mere whisper when I replied. “The Thuls are assaulting an Organa base to the northwest of the palace. They requested my assistance, but I fear that it might interfere with my business and I have little interest in involving myself in their civil war, regardless.” And I have no wish to fight the Republic and Jedi. “With that in mind, perhaps my presence would facilitate further business arrangements with your contacts.” “Hmm. Would love to help you out, Sith, but I can’t really think of much. I wrapped up what deals I could, and I don’t think having a sour-looking Sith hovering around would do much to help with those I couldn’t.” Revel cleared his throat loudly, most likely to irritate me. “Not sure what else I can do for you. Wish I could help.” The line cut out, prompting an annoyed growl from Khem. That he was simply amusing himself at my expense was a possibility, but one I discarded quickly. Whatever else Revel was, he was no fool. He would not needlessly antagonize me, nor would he put his own interests in jeopardy by. Not that any of that actually helps my situation. I sighed, and turned to my companion. “We will rest for the night here, Khem. In the morning, we will join Elana Thul’s assault on the Organa palace.” I noticed, and was dismayed by, the sudden gleam in his eye. “That being said, remember what our true goal here on Alderaan is. We will not allow ourselves to get overly entangled in Alderaanian politics, not even if the very survival of House Thul depends upon our assistance.” “I do not care for our allies from House Thul.” Khem smiled a savage grin that made me distinctly uncomfortable. “But I will relish the chance to fight our true enemies again, to tear the throats of the Jedi from them as they whimper for mercy. It will be a glorious day, Little Sith!” The Dashade was eyeing me closely, and I could tell he was quite pleased with the discomfort he was causing me. Of course, he took pleasure in the discomfort that everyone felt when they were around him. “Naturally.” I wrinkled my nose and glared back at him. “Do try and contain your excitement Khem. I would hate for you to have no energy left for our true enemies.” He nodded his head slightly, but it was all too obvious that he was not entirely on the same page that I was. I lowered my voice and hardened it, to emphasize the importance of what I was saying. “Regardless of how much pleasure you get out of murdering the defenders at the Organa Palace, our priority is the artifact. And our true enemies are not some Alderaanian Jedi or even the Republic. Do not forget that.” He glared at me balefully before nodding his head again. Then, he wandered off into the palace grounds for the night. I found myself praying to the Maker that he was not engaging in any last minute murderous antics elsewhere on the grounds. Having to explain mutilated corpses to my erstwhile allies would be inconvenient. I wearily dragged myself into my quarters for the night, eager to leave the insanity around me behind, if only for a few hours. The room Elana Thul had arranged was a particularly luxurious one, with what looked to be imported carpeting and artwork to go with the expensive furniture and solid gold fixtures. I supposed there were worse places to spend my last night on Alderaan as I drifted off to sleep. It felt like it had only been a matter of moments before I felt a presence in the room with me. His presence, the spirit that had called himself Kallig and claimed to be my ancestor. It was a slippery, oily presence, and it slithered into the room like a snake. For a moment, I considered trying to ignore it, in the hopes that it would give up and go away, but it only drew closer as I did so. Apparently, I was unfortunate enough to have acquired a Sith spirit follower that was as persistent as it was obnoxious. “Blood of my blood, I have come again.” Apparently, the spirit did not have much faith in my observational skills. “I am here to warn you about your master, Zash. Even now, she plots against you.” “A Sith plotting against me? I shudder to even contemplate that possibility.” It was bad enough that I had to be haunted by an insane Sith spirit, still worse that it was devoid of usefulness. Why could he not at least offer appropriate advice or information? “Take care, child, this is no trifling matter.” I was pleased to hear a hint of annoyance in the spirit’s voice. “I have been watching Zash and her new apprentices carefully when they have found their way into the Dark Temple as of late, and their activities concern me. That should concern you, blood of my blood.” I arched an eyebrow, genuinely interested for once. “Other apprentices, you say? How intriguing. And here I thought I meant something to Zash.” “You should not be so flippant about these matters!” Kallig was angry now; it was almost amusing. “The witch plots against you with her every breath, and you would waste your warning with jokes!” I hid a smile from the spirit. “I have been unable to lean of her precise plan, but I have heard her speak of unpleasant plans for your future. Beware, blood of my blood, for she is more powerful than you can imagine.” “Are you saying you do not believe that I can defend myself from her? I find your lack of faith disturbing, Kallig.” If it was possible for a Force spirit to be angry, I imagined that Kallig would be a perfect example of it. The apparition shimmered in the low light of my quarters, almost as if he was quivering with rage. I managed - barely – to restrain an immature giggle. “Joke if you will, blood of my blood, but I would not leave the heir to my legacy defenseless against such a threat. In fact, it is another remanant of mine that will serve you well in the days to come.” The spirit eyed me with something that felt all too similar to the looks my parents had shot in my direction so many times. “Long ago, I wore a mask that protected me from even the most powerful of Dark Side rituals. It now lies in the hands of a Sith lord named Khreusis on Korriban. You must travel to his compound and seize the mask.” I snorted rudely. “Of course. Your mask is going to provide me with protection against Zash’s ritual.” I smiled slightly and then yawned exaggeratedly. “Your storytelling needs improvement, spirit. Do run along and work on it.” “I am warning you of imminent peril and you simply mock me. I grow tired of this stupidity.” The spirit sounded as outraged as an apparition could. “You may be the living embodiment of my legacy, but it is clear you have much to learn. I pray that you open your eyes before your blindness ends you.” With that, the spirit shimmered and then disappeared, leaving me alone, and shivering somewhat from an unexplainable chill that filled the room. Perhaps it would not be entirely preposterous to investigate the spirit’s claims – if Zash was moving against me, it would be foolish to confront her without a valuable weapon by my side. Of course, it could also be said that heeding the advice of a mysterious Sith ghost is the far greater folly. My bed was more luxurious than any I had had since Ithaca, but it somehow provided less comfort than the rocky ground at the camps that night. I wondered if I would ever have a pleasant night’s sleep again. Khem woke me several hours later with several rough shoves, clearly not understanding the importance of a proper night’s sleep during times of stress. And a lack of understanding of proper morning etiquette. After a quick glance in his direction, I decided that the Dashade probably was well aware of it, and was simply choosing to continue making my life as miserable as possible. I only wished he was less successful at it. We encountered no obstacles as we made our way to our speeder, though the hustle and bustle of what looked to be reinforcements for the assault on House Organa was a sight to behold. Fortunately, the Thul soldiers were intelligent enough to know not to get in a Sith’s way. Or they have had other, unpleasant, encounters with a Sith before. I grimaced slightly, but there was nothing to be done about it. I was not entirely unhappy - the crimes the Sith committed against their own allies only hastened their own demise. It was unfortunate that ostensibly innocent people living under the rule of Imperial allies suffered because their masters associated with the galaxy’s greatest monsters, but that was not my battle to fight. It was more than enough for me to fight for people like the ones I had grown up with. Khem and I had traveled roughly half the distance to the Organa palace when my communicator vibrated with a secure call. Organa. I flashed my companion a look to ensure his silence, and then answered, trying my best to keep my voice and facial expression neutral as the holographic projector whirred to life. “Master Organa, it is good to hear from you. I had feared you might disappear without an answer for me.” The Jedi snorted loudly. I ignored it, remembering that he no doubt viewed cooperating with me as no better than working with the butchers that had attacked Coruscant; there was no chance that several short conversations could ever undo a lifetime of justified bitterness. Not even if he knew my true name…and my true purpose. “Yes, Sith, I considered your offer carefully. Much as I hate to admit it, you presented an honest argument and I cannot deny that you have done your utmost to avoid bloodshed. I spoke with Rehanna as well and she… convinced me that you are not attempting any sort of deception. While I am loathe to trust the word of a Sith, I must also remember my duty to uphold the principles of the Jedi Order. If you still require the artifact, I am prepared to turn it over to you.” Something about his words did not sit right with me, but that feeling was hardly unusual under normal circumstances, and these circumstances were anything but normal. Still, there was something about his manner of speaking as well; he was almost too eager to say what I wanted to hear. Calm. I steadied myself before responding, trying to remind myself that it was only natural that a Jedi would be suspicious of a Sith, even a cooperative one. “I am glad to hear you say that, Master Organa. Should we return to the same location to transfer the artifact into my custody?” “No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” His tone was slightly harsh, but I attributed that to his latent suspicion about me. “I can provide you with the necessary codes to access the inner vaults at the Elysium and transfer the artifact you with the artifact there, though.” I bit down on my lip, contemplating the possibilities. The Elysium would be a more secure point to hand the relic over to me, and a safer one if Organa suspected me of treachery, so I could not entirely blame him for preferring a change of venue. Despite that, I could not help but note how his plan required me to take on all of the inconvenience and risk. Patience. Better to put the Jedi at ease and ensure that this goes as smoothly as is possible. “That would be satisfactory, Master Organa.” I attempted to put a genuine-looking smile on my face. I seemed to have to do that a lot. “Perhaps it would be wise to exchange the artifact as soon as possible, lest we be discovered. There are many on either side of this conflict who would be….less amenable to friendly interactions between us. I would not want anything to go amiss.” “Neither would I,” he said with a nod. Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, but only for a moment – far too quick for it to properly register. “I will await your arrival at the Organa vault. When you arrive at the security checkpoint, provide them with my personal entrance code – Surik. That will allow you to pass through to the vault without any issues.” He paused again. “Also, the process might be smoother without your Dashade alongside you.” I nodded in response, not trusting myself to speak with the lump in my throat for a moment. “I look forward to our meeting, Master Organa.” I wondered if he truly thought me so foolish. A faint smile creased his face. “As do I.” The channel closed with a loud click, and his image faded a heartbeat later. I did not even bother to look at Khem to gauge his reaction. “You do not like this Khem, but we have no other choice. This is the most efficient way to acquire the artifact.” Khem growled out his response. “It is a trap, Little Sith. The Jedi fills your head with pleasant thoughts of cooperation but his words reveal his true intent. We must move against him before he can strike. You cannot allow him to betray you. The Jedi will learn the price of treachery.” I would have thought Khem, of all beings, would have been less bothered by the idea of being betrayed – it was practically the go-to tactic for his treasured Sith, after all. “I sense something wrong with him as well, Khem, but I am not quite prepared to assume treachery. Not from a Jedi.” My father would never have abused a peaceful meeting, at least. I repeated that thought to myself several times, but still felt the doubt gnawing at my stomach. Organa had been too eager and too hesitant at the same time – too quick to reassure me when necessary but too reluctant to step out of his comfort zone. Of course, a man reluctant to work with a Sith would have acted that way just as much as one planning a betrayal. There was an awkward moment of silence before I realized that he had nothing to say. “We will continue on to the Elysium as if we suspect nothing – it will be easier to deal with a trap than explain our own betrayal. I hope to avoid any issues with the security personnel – allow me to deal with them first should they raise any objections to our presence.” I chewed on the top of my lower lip for a moment. “Should the Jedi prove disagreeable…we shall determine our course of action as I see fit.” Khem apparently disagreed. “I will remove the Jedi’s head from his body should he oppose us.” It seemed my companion had other plans. “You do not appreciate what it means to be Sith. You do not understand what it means to know the Jedi as enemies. I will teach you that lesson.” We glared at each other through narrowed eyes and barely concealed disgust. I wondered how long Khem’s tenuous loyalty would last when it came for more difficult trials against the Sith, particularly given my specific motivations. His distrust of individual Sith like Zash was useful for now, but it would not likely transfer over to my greater ambitions. I decided to worry about that eventuality later, when it would be more appropriate. “If the Jedi proves disagreeable, I will determine our response accordingly.” I repeated. “Our primary objective is to secure the artifact and leave Alderaan before the Thuls note our…lack of enthusiasm for their war effort. If that means setting your bloodlust aside again, then so be it. I will not sacrifice our mission so you can enjoy slicing off a few heads.” It was not the first time we had had this conversation; clearly, it would not be the last. Something else to account for going forward. I sighed, feeling the weight of the galaxy upon my shoulders, made all the worse by having no one to share the burden with. “I will follow…for now.” Khem paused for a moment. I took the opportunity to disengage from the conversation and motioned for him to restart the speeder and continue our trip to the Elysium. He tensed, making me think that he might well challenge me at last, but then gave an almost imperceptible nod and turned toward the controls. He continued grumbling during our delightful trip through the picturesque Alderaanian countryside, and repeatedly shot me glances that were murderous at best. It all left me feeling unsettled about the future. It seemed obvious that Khem did not fully understand the depths of and reasons for my loathing for the Sith that he idolized. I somehow doubted he would have cared even if he did, and I would soon have to reveal everything to him one way or another. And when he did realize that I did not wish to kill Sith as part of a plan for advancement within the order, but rather because I was meting out justice for their crimes against the galaxy? Only the Force knew what would happen then. I sighed softly and tried to meditate for the rest of the journey. The Elysium was not quite what I expected it to be. I would have assumed such a valuable site would have been a modern building surrounded by the most sophisticated defenses. Instead, the most important vault on Alderaan was made up of a series of ruined buildings with scattered patrols guarding the entrances. I supposed it might be a situation where their ancient traditions were actually useful for once – none of the noble houses would risk the consequences that would follow from any kind of incident here. Several of the guards motioned us over and, after hearing me produce the correct password, proceeded to inspect the speeder with the intensity one would expect from security at a shopping mall on one of the Core worlds. Their captain glanced briefly at Khem, but only long enough for the Dashade’s glare to produce an involuntary shudder. I hid a smile and waved sarcastically in the guard’s direction as he motioned us toward a landing pad. Khem set the speeder down and sprung out of the vehicle, still glaring in the guard’s direction. As we began our trek away from the landing area, I reached out with the Force and felt a strangely familiar feeling from further within the complex. Not Organa, though… something that brought back the memory of nightmares. I could not identify who or what it was that I was sensing, but there was something wrong with the Elysium, even beyond the treachery I expected from Organa. The feeling of dread hung over the entire area like a dense fog. There is definitely something else amiss. Something worse than Nomar Organa could ever be. Despite my best efforts, I could not decipher anything beyond the barest of whispers in the Force. Minutes passed before I realized that I was exerting myself pointlessly. There was nothing to be done about it, though – vague feelings and discomfort were not the sort of things that should drive decision making even in the best of circumstances, let alone when the fate of my mission was at stake. Khem and I passed through the last of the outer security checkpoints, waved along by the guards. Unsurprisingly, they seemed uninterested in doing anything even remotely threatening towards Khem. The inner sanctum was more of the same, only the uninterested guards were more heavily armed and armored. I heard the faint sound of what sounded like an alarm over the intercom at one of the checkpoints, but it must not have been too serious given the guards’ reactions. My comm buzzed, breaking my concentration. After making sure none of the guards were in hearing range, I activated the channel. “My lady, are you there?” It was Urtel Moren, his usually smooth voice fraught with tension. “I am with Lady Thul. The assault does not go well.” “Regrettable.” I let the word hang there for a moment. “Perhaps the attack would benefit from your direct, personal, intervention.” “Uh…yes. That is, the news is indeed regrettable.” It sounded like he was choking on something. “Lady Thul had hoped you might come to aid us, as you agreed to, previously. House Thul can ill afford a defeat of this magnitude at the juncture the conflict is at. Your aid might well turn the tide of battle here. I would even go so far as to say that the future of the Empire’s presence might well hang in the balance, my lady.” “How terrifying!” Try as I might, I could not always resist temptation. “Sadly, I am presently occupied with my own mission and am not in a position to assist before your battle is already over.” “But-but…” It was somewhat amusing to hear the usually-polished Sith unable to form a coherent sentence. “Perhaps if you were to speak to Lady Thul?” He did not give me a chance to respond properly. Instead Elana Thul’s somewhat panicked voice replaced Moren’s a moment later. “My Lady, I overheard your conversation with Urtel. I pray that my words will convince you where his failed.” I heard her swallow hard. “House Thul has been a loyal ally to the Empire.” “Indeed. House Thul has faithfully stood by the Empire for as long as the Empire has provided it with weapons and supplies. A remarkable coincidence, I think.” “Perhaps, but we have more than done our duty as Imperial allies since that time.” Her tone became more plaintive. “My forces will be annihilated without reinforcement.” “Truly?” I pretended to stifle a yawn. “How unfortunate.” “We helped you with your mission, my lady. I don’t understand why you – why the Empire – is betraying us.” I shrugged my shoulders, even though she would not know it. “Perhaps that is something to ruminate on for as long as you can. Goodbye, Lady Thul.” “I don’t want to die.” “Neither did my family.” I closed the channel. Khem was practically grinning at me, and I could sense something bordering on paternal pride through the Force. Somehow, that made me feel far more uneasy than abandoning Elana Thul and Urtel Moren could ever have. I grimaced and turned my back to him. “There is hope for you yet, Little Sith. These weaklings have their uses, but you must never confuse a tool for an ally.” He flashed his teeth at me. “Now it is time to demonstrate that Nomar Organa is the same. “ “No. The Jedi are different.” I wanted to wipe that smile off of his face, but I did not find my own argument entirely convincing. “You will follow my lead during the meeting. Do not attempt to provoke anything.” He remained silent as we began moving again, slowly walking up the slightly inclined ramp toward the Organa vault. We walked in silence, though at least the scenery was somewhat nicer in this section of the Elysium. Apparently, the Organa family had decided that their vault’s area needed to be as ostentatious and over the top as the rest of their lands. I was amused at the thought of some Alderaanian nobles fussing over the décor of what amounted to a bank’s safe deposit box. There was something wrong, though, and I felt that unpleasant mixture of dread and unease again. I should have been able to sense Nomar Organa from where we were, and all I could detect was vague disquiet in the Force. It was something decidedly unnatural, which concerned me at least as much as the lack of clarity did – anyone powerful enough to so definitively cloud my Force-sensitivity was dangerous, and it was not as if I had all that many friends on Alderaan right now. Except, perhaps, for Khem. It was a depressing realization. Fortunately, Khem headed off any possibility of bonding by jabbing his arm furiously at something ahead of us and striding forward purposefully. Picking up the pace, I sprinted to catch up with him, but the sight ahead stopped me dead in my tracks. Nomar Organa was indeed waiting for us, but he was not alone. The looks that I received told me all that I really needed to know. For once, Khem had been right and I had been wrong. This was no meeting. It was an ambush.

Author's note I crouched behind a bulkhead as another squad of Tavus’ people scrambled past us, heading toward the hangar bay. We’d heard the alarms for several minutes now, alerting the entire ship to the fact that Garza’s reinforcements were moving into position. I couldn’t be sure of how the squads already on board were doing, but I suspected that they had proven to be as big an annoyance as we had, judging from the increasingly frantic expressions that Tavus’ people were wearing. Not that it bothered me much; it wasn’t that I wanted them to die, but they’d made their choice to jump ship to the Empire, and they were living with the consequences. **** ‘em. The bridge was too far up the ship’s superstructure to get to without using the lifts, even if that might be a real hassle. Our little cloak and dagger routine might work have worked on a random officer with his guard down, but the entire ship was on full alert now, and Forex alone was reason enough to give anyone with half a brain pause. Not much to be done about it at this point, though. Best we could do was hold onto our butts and pray to the Maker for good luck at whatever security or defenses they had waiting for us. Garza’s briefing had been unpleasantly brief about how we were meant to get from engineering to the bridge, particularly given the heightened security. No doubt, Garza had figured we’d find a way to get it done, like we always did. Damned easy to do when you were safely commanding the op from a desk somewhere, somewhat less so when you were trying to actually complete the mission. I took the lead, hoping that my insignia and commanding presence would at least help deal with any reluctance to let us through. The corridors were largely deserted except for a few stragglers scurrying around like the rats that they were; fortunately for us, they paid little attention to the well-equipped squad of soldiers moving away from where all the fighting was taking place elsewhere on the dreadnought. Maybe it was a sign the Maker was watching over us. More likely, it was just a sign that the troops that had followed Tavus over to the Empire were not all the best and brightest of Republic Special Forces. “Lifts are coming up on our left, sir.” Jorgan’s voice was slightly raised, but his posture made it clear he wasn’t too worked up about the situation. “Scans show some kind of automated defense, but nothing too bad.” “These traitors stand no chance of stopping us, Sir!” I sensed a Forex speech coming, and decided to nip it in the bud. “Quiet, Forex. Keep the channel clear.” The droid stopped for a moment and almost looked chastened by my words. “I’ll handle security – it’s likely they’re wired into the security network on the bridge, so we don’t exactly want to go blasting away at them.” The squad nodded and followed me down the corridor and around the turn to the right. I could see the squad of Tavus’ people ahead; a captain in command and six subordinates scattered haphazardly around him. They had set up some cover, mostly by overturning what looked to be crates of supplies. They weren’t using that cover, though, clearly more caught up in the chaos that was unfolding around them. It was either lazy or stupid of them – possibly both – and it was also something we could capitalize on. I strode up to them casually, as if I had all the time in the world to do whatever it was that had brought me there. “Halt.” The captain had an authoritative voice, which rang out as his squad slowly drifted into something more closely resembling a formation. “Who are you? Where are you taking this…droid?” The man must not have been briefed on Forex, which was so much the better for us. “Prisoner transfer,” I replied smoothly. “From cell block 1138.” Because he’d left his helmet sitting on one of the crates, I immediately noticed the suspicion painted on his face. Trouble. I tried to assuage his concerns with a friendly smile, but the gesture did little good when it was covered up by a helmet. “I wasn’t notified,” he said with a frown. “I’ll have to clear it.” I grimaced. There wasn’t a chance in hell they wouldn’t activate their defensive protocols if he kicked this upstairs, and we weren’t going to fight our way through those without significant back up. By the time that arrived, Tavus might find a way to escape from the trap we’d laid for him. “No need,” I said, putting my hands out in front of me, as if I was talking to an old friend. “We captured this unit after we took out one of the Republic squads down in engineering. Turns out it’s the same droid that Commander Tavus sent Captain Andrik and us out after on Nar Shaddaa.” I gave Forex a sharp kick in the leg. “Guess it’s a bit of poetic justice, even if it came too late.” “Hmm.” I could already tell that the guy wasn’t buying my story, not completely at least. Mom’s voice had had a similar tone after I told a white lie to try to avoid getting in trouble, and this was no different. Even as he seemed to be giving my words careful consideration, I was already preparing for the worst. I casually glanced back at my squad and nodded almost imperceptibly. Elara and Jorgan nodded in return as I turned back to Tavus’ captain. “Mind letting us through? Would rather not have to lug this thing through a firefight?” Last chance for him and his people, even if he didn’t realize it. It seemed clear his squad didn’t, given the way they were more focused on the hallway behind us than at what we were doing. “Don’t want any of the Republic infiltrators to catch us here, and I want to take my people back into the fight after I’m done with this thing.” “I’m not sure I can do that,” he said after a long moment. “Just following procedure; can’t afford any slip-ups with Republic troops on board.” He sounded disappointed. It was about to get worse. “By the Maker!” I inserted some panic into my voice as I stumbled back from Forex. “The restraining bolt failed! It’s active, it’s active! Run for it!” “Eh?” The squad commander was still turning back toward me as Forex’ blasters put two holes through his chest. His still-twitching body spun back toward his squad, which was only just beginning to react. Forex took out the pair to my left, and Jorgan finished off the rest with a carefully controlled burst of fire from his assault cannon. It made me feel a bit uneasy – the soldiers had been my enemies, but we’d also just been having a normal conversation only moments before, and they'd been Republic troops only months before. I took a breath and surveyed the carnage, wondering if it was the same uneasy feeling these troops must have felt when they defected, if they’d been forced to fire on loyal forces. Seemed pretty ****ed up that things could go sideways so suddenly and so completely. “Sir!” I shook my head as I heard Jorgan’s voice reverberate harshly over the comm. This wasn’t the time for daydreaming or moralizing – maybe these guys had been just led astray by Tavus and his rhetoric. Maybe they’d never believed it at all, but felt obligated to follow a certified war hero over a bunch of politicians back on Coruscant. Or maybe they were a bunch of thugs that had seen defecting to the empire as a way to express the parts of themselves that they’d had to suppress back in the Republic. Mom had told me all about those kinds of soldiers, the ones that had scared her more than combat ever could. Worry about that **** later, idiot. You’ve still got Tavus to worry about, and that’s enough to worry about for the time being. I stepped forward and slammed my fist against the control panel for the lifts, calling for our transportation up to the bridge. If we were lucky, they hadn’t been tipped off to the altercation below, and we’d get a clean ride into the command area. IF not…well, there were contingencies for fighting our way out of a deactivated turbolift, but I wasn’t particularly interested in living them out. Getting Forex up there with us was going to be a bit of a problem, given that the cars weren’t built for unwieldy war droids, but we’d be able to make do on our own if he had to join us in a separate lift. Calm down. Take a breath. My mind was moving fast, too fast. I could always tell when I was risking getting myself into trouble because it always felt like my mind was racing along at lightspeed. There were no more variables to calculate, no scenarios to imagine, just a mission to complete and a job to get done. The lift arrived with a soft beep that was barely audible. The doors slid open to reveal an empty grey chamber with a control panel opposite us against the far wall. It was smaller than I had hoped, forcing us to leave Forex behind to wait for the next. Not idea, especially not with the kind of resistance we might face on the bridge, but there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it. Elara stepped in first, followed by Jorgan. I followed them in, then spun on my heels to face the door. I gave Forex a thumbs up as the doors slid shut on us, which sparked an amused chuckle from Jorgan, and then we were on our way up. Standard sweep procedures unless we hit a snag, sir?” Jorgan’s voice was measured rather than curious; he’d obviously realized the same thing that I had. “Affirmative. We won’t have Forex’ heavy fire and armor at first, so we’ll play it safe until it gets here.” I pondered what Tavus might have done since first receiving word of Republic troops boarding his ship. “My guess is Tavus would have sent whatever he had on the bridge after the boarders, especially once we shut down his hyperdrive. He wants to run, not fight, so we have to assume that they’re working on repairs right now.” “There may still be turrets or other unmanned defenses, Sir,” Elara cautioned. “I suggest a cautious approach.” “Agreed.” I chewed on something else for a moment. “Also, we’re taking prisoners. Including Tavus, if we can.” “You can’t be serious…” I didn’t need to see Jorgan’s face to know it was darkening with anger. “I am.” “Tavus is a traitor; he gave up any right to special treatment.” He was angry, but more under control this time. “If he gives himself up, fine. If not, I don’t see why we should risk our necks for a Sithspit piece of crap like him.” “Commander Tavus might prove to be a useful source of information, Sir.” Elara’s rebuke was only implied, but obvious nonetheless. “And, regardless of our personal feelings, he is owed the same treatment as any other soldier under our rules of engagement and code of conduct. We must set aside any desire to exact vengeance.” She says we must. I smiled slightly, safe in the knowledge that neither would be able to see it. “If he doesn’t make things difficult, we take him in even if he fights back at first. If it comes down to putting a member of the squad in jeopardy and killing Tavus, we take the shot.” They nodded in understanding, if not agreement. “Here we go. Nice and easy, no funny games. Don’t want to give Garza the opportunity to replace me any sooner than she would anyway.” Jorgan coughed loudly as the door opened and we got our first glimpse of the bridge. There were technicians and crew members mulling about their control panels while others supervised by staring at their data pads. Tavus standing with his back toward us on the opposite side of the bridge, facing the viewport like a man seeing outer space for the first time. He didn’t seem to have any guards around him, and I didn’t see any kind of turrets or other weapons emplacements. Either he hadn’t anticipated trouble…or he welcomed it. I didn’t know whether to be concerned or thankful. I fiddled with the settings on my helmet. “In the name of the Galactic Republic, I am placing you all under arrest.” My voice rang out across the bridge. The technicians, most of them pasty-faced and looking like the kind of guys that spent too much time on the HoloNet, shot their arms in the air. Tavus didn’t respond, didn’t even move. “Even you, Tavus. General Garza wants to have a nice little talk with you.” The older man finally responded, turning around to face us. His hands remained clasped behind him, though he could easily draw his pistol if he decided to. I couldn’t quite read his expression – it was like the sky on a cloudy day – shrouded and unclear. He wasn’t happy, though. I seemed to have a habit of depressing people by showing up. “Lieutenant, I am not surprised to see you here. I always believed you were true Havoc material, even if your loyalties were too easily swayed by Republic propaganda.” He glanced over my shoulder, past Elara and Jorgan, to the spot behind me where I could hear Forex clanking its way up. “I see you’ve returned my war droid.” What’s he playing at? “We can talk more later, once you’re in custody. Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.” I raised my rifle to point in his direction and motioned at Jorgan and Forex to keep the rest of the bridge crew covered. “There’s no reason to for this to end badly.” “Isn’t there?” There was a hint of bitterness to his voice now. “You killed them all. Needles, Fuse, Gearbox, and now Wraith. Not to mention the dozens of other good soldiers you murdered in the name of a Republic that deserves nothing but scorn. Do you regret what you’ve done for such a misguided cause? Do you feel any guilt at all? Do you realize what you’ve done?” I took out the trash. Fortunately, I managed to keep my mouth shut instead of saying so. “Fuse turned his back on you and your Empire before he died giving his life to ensure his bomb designs wouldn’t fall into the hands of murderers who saw them as tools to kill civilians with. And the rest?” I was tempted to spit on the floor between us. “Needles was an amoral man experimenting on his own soldiers on Taris so he could perfect a bioweapon. Gearbox was a lunatic who was overly fond of explosives and large machinery. I didn’t know Wraith much apart from the fact that she enjoyed killing people.” The corners of his lips twisted in a rage-filled scowl, but I kept going before he could say anything. “I may have pulled the trigger on some of them, but it was you that got them killed. Your pride, your selfishness and your rank stupidity. You told me on Ord Mantell that the Empire valued its warriors and the Republic did not, yet here you stand on your bridge. Alone, with no friends and no Imperial reinforcements.” I took a breath to settle myself a bit. “You may have been a hero once, but you’re just a karking fool now. The Empire used you and your followers for its own gain, and now that you’ve ****ed up and need help, they’re leaving you hanging to dry. Surely, you can see that?” “How dare you speak to me about making mistakes. How dare you lecture me about my own people.” Tavus’ face reddened to the point where I could almost no longer see his wrinkles. “The Republic abandoned us on Ando Prime. The Republic abandoned everyone with the Treaty of Coruscant. It is nothing more than a sickly corpse-to-be, and is no longer worth serving. You may have bested my squad and the rest of my men, but they are greater heroes than you’ll ever be.” “Fine by me,” I said nonchalantly. “I’m here to be a soldier, not a Maker-blessed hero. I don’t need or want some Holonews reporter telling my life story, and I don’t need legions of teenaged girls writing fanfic about me. I’m here to do a job, and I’m here to protect the people you no longer care about. Maybe you forgot that the first duty of a Republic soldier isn’t to themselves, it’s to the people they serve.” “Sir, perhaps a less confrontational approach would be advisable.” Elara’s soothing voice helped dim the red I saw before me. “Be that as it may, I’m prepared to take you into custody peacefully. You and all of your surviving troops, too. General Garza will want to question them about what they know, and she’ll definitely want to…talk…to you about everything you’ve been involved with, but it’s a helluva lot better than getting the rest of your command killed for some damned fool crusade.” “Don’t’ be ridiculous. Garza would have me shot the moment you were out of sight.” “You give her too little credit.” At least, I was hoping Tavus was. “She’s not stupid, and neither are you. You’ll stand trial for your crimes, of course, but your corpse is a good deal less valuable to the Republic than your information. We aren’t the Empire. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that.” “True…true.” His expression softened, and I stepped forward slowly to take him into custody. It was a mistake. I was stupid. And I was sloppy. “But a trial? No, I won’t go through that. Not for you, not for Garza, not for whatever’s left of the Republic.” Tavus drew a pistol from a holster I hadn’t seen and fired a bolt directly into my chest. The shielding and armor absorbed the energy, but threw me back and to the side, into an abandoned console that felt really bad to be thrown into. His eyes were strangely empty, as if he’d resigned himself to death as long as he got to lash out one last time. He adjusted his pistol again, but never got the chance to fire again. A series of blue circles flew out of Elara’s pistol and slammed into Tavus. His body jerked for a moment, and then went limp, his pistol falling to the floor next to his prone form. “Stun bolt, nice work Elara.” I coughed and swept my hands over my armor, trying to make it look like the entire thing had been part of my plan instead of a damned stupid mistake that could have ended real badly. “Thanks for the save. I, uh, should have seen what he was up to.” I coughed again, and removed my helmet to give myself some more air. “Your belief in Commander Tavus’ good intentions was understandable, if misplaced.” She was unavoidably close now, carefully inspecting me for wounds and my armor for damage. Her voice was softer when she spoke again, in part because her helmet was off, placed on the floor beside us. “Having faith in others can be dangerous, but it is also admirable in many case as well.” She avoided my gaze, which gave me an excuse to avoid looking at her. “I like to think people always have the chance to do right. Some people deserve to have their own faith rewarded.” I flashed a smile on the off chance that she might see it. Naturally, she did not. “Of course, Sir. I have always appreciated that. That you take that stance, I mean. Sir.” Suddenly flustered, she scrambled back to her feet and threw a look back at the lifts. “General Garza is here, Sir. Perhaps this is a conversation best left for another time.” I hadn’t realized we were having a real conversation, but felt strangely pleased that Elara had. I killed the small smile that followed as quickly as I could, realizing Garza would most likely not be in the mood for such frivolities. Indeed, she had a deathly serious expression on her face as she strode toward me, flanked by two pairs of guards and with Jorgan and Forex trailing behind her. “Lieutenant, I see you have the situation…under control.” She peered inquisitively at Tavus. I assumed she was wondering if I’d killed him. “Yes, Sir.” I snapped to attention and saluted. “Sergeant Dorne successfully stunned Tavus when he attempted to use my negotiations with him as an opportunity to kill me. He is ready to be transferred into Republic custody for questioning, though it will be some time before the stun wears off.” The general’s eyes narrowed for a moment before she turned her gaze to Elara. “Well done, Sergeant Dorne. Your quick thinking could help us learn intel that might save thousands of Republic lives.” “I am just happy to do my part, Sir.” Elara couldn’t hide the slight flush and curled ends of her lips, though. Not to me, at least. “Sergeants Dorne and Jorgan were both invaluable assets to the mission,” I added. “So was Forex, I guess. It did a good job of blasting things.” “For the Republic!” I heard the damned machine call out. Garza looked back at the droid with a perplexed expression, then returned her gaze to me. “Well done, Lieutenant Martell. You and your squad have successfully completed one of the most important operations in Republic Special Forces history. You and your squad should be very proud of your efforts on behalf of the Republic.” “We are, Sir.” I wondered how much longer this show was going to go on for – the end of a major op like this usually meant getting some time off, and talking to Garza wasn’t really my idea of recreation. Unconsciously, I glanced over my shoulder at Elara, but caught myself and faced forward again when I saw her looking at me. “I realize you may view this as an opportunity for some much-earned R&R, but I’m afraid there are some administrative matters to attend to, first.” A smile tugged at the edges of Garza’s lips. [i}Kark her, she’s enjoying drawing this out![/i] “I have to attend to finishing this operation first, but meet me in my office on Coruscant in three days’ time for the final debriefing. You may consider yourself on leave during the intervening period.” I hid my smile. “Yes, Sir!” Much to my chagrin our three days of freedom were cut short when Elara had detected that Jorgan had somehow contrived to contract womp rat fever, presumably from our time on Tatooine. The rest of us were fine, but she had insisted we follow proper quarantine procedures, and that meant getting locked up once we landed on Coruscant. I didn’t mind getting poked and prodded by Elara but the bastards from Medical Division didn’t seem to understand the meaning of the word gentle and inflicted horrible food on us at well. Jorgan, as if deciding our lives were a cosmic joke, recovered the day of our debriefing, and was entirely too cheerful about the entire ordeal as we made our way to Garza’s office. I decided to make sure that he understood the full implications of what he had done. “You owe me about ten rounds of drinks now, Jorgan. Karking doctors treated me like I was some kind of medical experiment.” I winced and flexed my arm. “If you hadn’t been so damn eager to tough it out on Tatooine, none of this would have ever happened.” “It’s a miracle you survived,” Jorgan shot back. “I can only imagine how they handled the crying.” Elara remained silent, though I strongly suspected she was guilty of rolling her eyes at least once. Forex merely clanked on. “You ruined my vacation, Aric. There are some crimes that are simply unforgivable.” He snorted, but said nothing. We were getting too close to the senate tower for childish banter, anyway. Damned politicians and the various other bureaucrats and brown-nosers never did appreciate the smaller joys in life, and they were already giving us strange looks. Could be the armor too. That seemed too reasonable a motive for people like them, though, so I discarded it as a possibility. We marched on in silence. Garza was seated at her desk, waiting for us with hands folded in front of her, She rose slowly, almost ponderously, as we entered the room and came to attention. “Greets, Lieutenant. I trust your squad has recovered fully from the outbreak?” “Yes, Sir.” I glared at Jorgan. “We got a bit stir crazy, but everything worked out okay.” “Good.” She frowned slightly. “I would have hated to have another nerf steak incident on our hands.” “No, Sir.” I hoped the heat I felt in my cheeks wasn’t a blush. “First, I would like to revisit what I said on the Justice – Havoc Squad successfully completed one of the most difficult and complex operations in the history of the Republic, and for that you deserve congratulations.” I bowed my head in thanks as she continued. “In recognition for your efforts, the Chiefs of Staff have decided to award you with the Star of Valor. Wear it with pride, Lieutenant.” I wanted to ask about Elara and Jorgan, but I could take a hint. “Thank you, Sir.” Garza’s tongue ran over her lip for a moment, like she was steeling herself for something. “In addition, you are hereby promoted to the rank of captain, with all of the duties and benefits that that rank entails. In recognition of your new rank, you are also granted the ability to name an executive officer for your squad. Your executive officer will serve as your second-in-command and will be promoted to the rank of lieutenant. Because droids cannot hold rank, your choice will be between Sergeants Dorne and Jorgan.” **** me. ********************. “Uh, yes Sir.” I decided to delay for as long as possible, even if I could have made my decision that moment. Instead, I stepped toward Jorgan. “Sergeant Jorgan, why do you think you are qualified for the position of XO?” “Are you serious?” The Cathar’s face was all scrunched up in a way that smelled of trouble. He sounded about as angry as I’d ever heard him. “I have previous command experience with the Deadeyes. I was an operations officer on Ord Mantell for years. If Commander Tavus and your squad hadn’t betrayed us, I’d still be a lieutenant right now.” He swallowed hard. “Besides, you’ve seen what I can do in the field. I’m clearly qualified.” “Uh, thanks. That’ll be all, Jorgan.” He’d said what I had expected he would, and nothing more. I frowned slightly, then turned to Elara. “What about you, Sergeant Dorne?” As if to prove it was possible, she straightened up even more. “I believe I have demonstrated my qualifications and skills during my time in Havoc Squad. I have several years of experience in the field, including a significant amount of time commanding SAR operations on a world as hostile as Taris. In addition to my experience in the field, I can support the squad with my knowledge of the bureaucratic and procedural requirements of being a Republic military unit.” There was a long, knowing, pause. “I also have extensive knowledge of our enemies’ tactics and can facilitate mission and operational planning by using it.” “Thank you, Sergeant Dorne.” She nodded. “Thank you for hearing me out, Sir.” I swallowed hard. Having an easy time finding the answer to a question didn’t always mean that revealing that solution would be just as simple. Especially when you’ll be living with more than just the decision, you’ll be living with the people you made the decision about. **** Garza for making me do this. “You’ve both made your cases, and I’ve made my decision.” I prayed for divine intervention that did not come. “Sergeant Dorne, I hereby name you my executive officer and promote you to the rank of lieutenant.” Jorgan was giving me the look of death that had previously been reserved for ex-girlfriends and Mom, so I decided to stare at the floor. “Thank you, Sir!” Elara’s face was beaming so brightly she could have passed for a star. “I shall endeavor to prove your decision to be a correct one.” “If there’s nothing else, Sir?” I turned away from the glowing Elara and glowering Jorgan to look at Garza. “Not for the moment, no. I’ve allotted four weeks of R&R for your squad, Captain Martell. You’ve more than earned them.” Even Garza cracked a smile at that one, which was completely terrifying. I tried to purge the image from my mind as we exited the office and returned to the barracks we’d been assigned after escaping quarantine. I tried to plan what I would say to Jorgan, to prepare for the storm I knew was coming, but my mind was blank. Blanker than usual, you mean, idiot. Forex left first, muttering something about a political rally. Elara left minutes later, stating that she wished to visit the medical school located nearby. I did my best to appear distracted by an insect crawling on the wall, but Jorgan was a good enough soldier to know what to do when his target was square in his sights. “Can we talk about something?” He flashed his fangs. “Sir.” “Of course. Drop the formal crap, though.” I steeled myself for what was the come. “How could you promote Dorne over me? I’ve been with the Republic for years and served it faithfully, even after the higher-ups screwed me over because your precious Havoc Squad defected on Ord Mantell. I deserved that promotion to make up for it.” “You didn’t deserve that demotion, you’re right.” I started slowly, carefully. “But you aren’t the most qualified person to be my XO. I- “ “Maybe you have a problem recognizing officer material, then.” Jorgan’s face was as red as mine. “Maybe you should shut the **** up.” I should have done a better job of keeping my cool but I really wasn’t in the mood. Not when this was my time off, not from the biggest killjoy in the Republic. “I chose Elara because her strengths are exactly what I need in an executive officer. Both of us aren’t exactly by-the-book, and we both have tempers that a Sith would be jealous of. I need someone with a cool head to offset that. You haven’t shown me that you can do that. You have shown me you’re a damn fine soldier, but there’s a difference between being able to fight and being able to command.” His face darkened further. “I’ve held command positions for longer than you have.” “In other units.” I stepped closer, until there was practically no room between us. “If you can’t accept that you’ll have to actually prove your command abilities to me, and that I won’t simply accept your egotistical sense of self-entitlement, then we are going to have a problem.” I lowered my voice until it was barely more than a guttural growl. “Do we have a problem?” For a moment, I thought he would say we did. Instead, he took a deep breath and then turned on his heel as he stormed out of the room. As the doors slid shut behind him, I slid into a chair. Somehow, the fights with the people you cared about always ended up being so much more difficult than anything you’d see on an actual battlefield. I stayed there, stewing in my own juices, for another twenty minutes. Then, I left to find a bar. Drinking counted as R&R too.

So losing your internet is fun. Anyway, back to Veresia on Alderaan. -------------------------------------- I felt a chill run down my spine as a light breeze invaded the room – as usual, Quorian had been too…distracted…to properly close the window. And he stole the warmest blanket as well. Still, there were worse situations to wake up to. I smiled slightly, and I gently moved his arm from where it was draped across my stomach, kissing him lightly on the cheek to distract him in case he was more awake than I anticipated. For a moment, I wondered what Ayrs would have made of Quorian. I think he would accept him, if only after he went through the proper routine that every overprotective older brother had. Or, so I imagined. My lips twisted into a humorless smile, and my heart stung for a moment. Yet again, I wondered if it would not be better to find some way to at least find out how Ayrs was doing, if not contact him, but I was not sure my resolve could survive that kind of temptation. How could I truly commit myself to undermining the Sith and Empire if I knew there was a far easier and more pleasant life in the Republic for me? Truth be told, I could not risk that possibility. The war against the Sith required people like me to use every advantage they could, and my position was too important to abandon for easy emotional comfort. Quorian murmured something under his breath as I crossed the room, carefully tracking down each article of clothing where they had been discarded the previous night. The undergarments and dark robes were hardly the height of fashion, but I needed them in order to continue to pass as a generic Sith within the Empire. As I leaned over to pick up my utility belt, I heard Quorian’s voice again, louder this time. “You know, if staring at you like this is wrong because it violates the Jedi Code, then I don’t want to be right.” He shot me a mischievous grin. I replied by using the Force to send a discarded pillow flying into his face. Then, I used the distraction to my advantage, slipping into the bathroom and claiming whatever warm water we’d have for the day for my own. The bathroom door’s locking mechanism activated with a satisfying click that was only matched by Quorian’s jokingly plaintive begging to be allowed in. A part of me wanted to leave him outside to revel in the schadenfreude, but the more rationale part of me realized that I would do well to find what joy I could in life, for the path I was walking was unlikely to lead me to any on its own. It was strange how different the world around me felt when he was with me, when he had his arms around me and I had mine around him. I wanted to berate myself for wasting time on frivolities but there was no point in such recriminations. Sooner or later, the Sith would discover my true intentions and it would take more than the Force to save me then. Besides, he’s remarkably skilled for a Jedi. One would have thought his upbringing would have left him lacking in some ways. I left the refresher first, not wanting to but knowing I needed to - as much as Quorian offered a refuge from the darkness, he was still a distraction. I disengaged slowly, but firmly, and took advantage of my initiative by seizing the larger and softer of the two towels to dry myself off with before returning to the bedroom to get dressed. Remember, the most difficult part of any journey is beginning it. Each step was more unpleasant than the previous one, but I forced myself to don my robes and equipment. Much like how children make things more difficult for themselves by delaying what needed to be done, I knew that I would only make my departure more painful if I stretched it any further than was required. It was not that I wanted to remove him from my life; rather, it was that I recognized the need to carefully ration the time I spent with him, especially when compared with the time spent on planning for the future. While Quorian was getting dressed, I contacted Khem and let him know to return to the safe house. He was not entirely forthcoming about what he had been up to during his time away, but I was not all that eager to pursue the matter. More than likely, I would find out soon enough if he had done anything particularly unfortunate anyway, so I decided it would be best to avoid provoking a fight now. My second call was to Rehanna Rist, to let her know that I was ready for our rendezvous at the coordinates that she had provided in her last message. She was not likely to respond – making social calls to a reputed Sith would probably do little to endear her to Nomar Organa – but the plan was already set. I hoped that her meeting with him was progressing well. Perhaps their youthful romance might bloom again. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with how smoothly things were going on that front, but I was also unwilling to risk ruining a peaceful solution to my problem unless I absolutely had to. Perhaps Nomar Organa is coming but is unaware of my mission. That seemed to make the most sense – I somehow doubted that a Jedi Master would be all that eager to travel half the galaxy to help turn a Jedi relic over to a Sith. I grimaced at that thought. Logical though that point might be, I realized that also meant it might have rather unpleasant consequences when he learned of the true reason for Rehanna’s message and invitation. No matter – you can fight that gundark when you get to it. There is nothing to be gained from excessive hand-wringing before the fact. Quorian finally rejoined me a few minutes later, his hair still dripping from his shower. I smiled slightly and ran my hands through that hair, squeezing some of the moisture out. “You look so dashing with your unkempt hair and scraggly beard,” I said with only the most barely perceptible hint of snark. “You might well be the most handsome hobo Jedi in the galaxy.” He flushed slightly and rubbed the stubble on his right cheek ruefully. “We’re taught to avoid negative emotions like vanity when we’re young in the Jedi Order.” His frown suddenly inverted itself into one of his usual, decidedly un-Jedi-like, grins. “Though, for you I’d gladly break with the Order on that point.” I rolled my eyes and snorted loudly, in case he did not take the hint. “You’re just a scruffy-looking nerf herder.” “Who’s scruffy-looking?” He replied, a shocked expression painted on his face even as he wrapped his arms around my waist to draw me in closer. “That’s not what you were saying last night.” “You’re scruffy-looking down there too, hotshot.” I gave his chest a gentle two handed shove before kissing him quickly. “I really should go, though. If you remember how disagreeable Khem can be on a good day, just imagine what he is like after I’ve left him on his own for a few days.” “Not to mention when you’ve been spending that time with me. He’ll be like the demonic child you hope to never have.” He smiled at me, but I sensed something else behind it. “Before you go, though, I’ve been meaning to talk with you.” I knew that the words ‘been meaning to talk’ were rarely followed by an enjoyable subject. I was not entirely sure what Quorian’s would be, but I suspected one thing more than any other. “What about?” My tone was cheery and untroubled, but I doubted he would fall for the act. “You. Us. What we have, I mean.” He sat back down on the bed, motioning for me to sit next to him. I could not take that risk, though, so I shook my head in response and pulled a chair in closer, taking a seat there. “You know that I’ve always wanted you to come back with me , to leave the Empire and your quest for vengeance behind you.” “And you know that I cannot join the Jedi if there is to be an us, Quorian.” I felt my throat dry out in an instant. “Just as you know that I cannot let the murderers of my friends and family run free so long as I am in a position to stop them.” I tried to wet my throat by swallowing, but the Force was not with me on this matter. “Quorian, I don’t want to fight –“ “We’re not fighting, we’re talking. It’s what people who care about each other do.” He looked almost confused, but I supposed that made sense. Life in the Jedi Order hardly prepared someone for relationship troubles. “I understand what drives you, I really do, but…” It was his turn to swallow hard. “I can only guess what it is like for you when we aren’t together, but I know that it’s torture for me. Even worse when I know that you are just as likely to find yourself on the wrong side of the wrong Sith and I might never know what happened.” “I am not as foolish as that.” It was a comforting line, but not one that really addressed the heart of the matter. “I…I hate our time apart as much as you do, but I cannot abandon my mission. Not now. Not yet.” My heart sank as I sensed his reaction in the Force. He took my hands in his, gently stroking them with his fingers. “When will it end, though? When every Sith has died and you find yourself the new leader of the order you swore to destroy? You can fight those responsible for what happened to your friends and family as a Jedi, too. Or even just as someone fighting for the Republic. It doesn’t have to be this way.” “Maybe it does,” I heard myself say absent-mindedly. “We cannot choose what path the Force sends us on, only how we choose to walk it.” Quorian’s lips twitched slightly. “I want to walk that path with you, Veresia, but you’re making it difficult. They starting to ask questions about my absences, wondering why I can’t always be contacted as easily as I used to. What do you think they’ll say when they find out I’ve been going behind their back to spend time with a Sith.” I felt a sudden surge of anger at that word and extricated my hands from his grip. I pointed an angry finger in his face. “Don’t call me that. You of all people should never call me a Sith.” He flinched before responding. “That’s how they’ll see you, though.” He sounded almost resigned. “I understand why you feel the way you do, but I don’t understand why you are so willing to throw your life away….throw everything else away...when you know you can never truly satisfy your need for vengeance. Why can’t you –“ He shook his head. “Why can’t we find our own path. Together.” I could not meet his eyes. My voice was even weaker than my resolve. “I’d like that…someday.” I felt his answer even though he did not say anything, and wanted more than anything that things could be otherwise. “I cannot promise you that right now. I would not lie to you like that.” “You probably need to go.” His response was surprisingly abrupt. And harsh. He did offer a weak smile before continuing. “Give Khem my regards.” He stood up somewhat shakily, and I followed suit a moment later. Realizing that the situation called for a softer touch, I stepped forward and cupped his cheek in my hand. “Please, Quorian. Know that I understand what you are saying. I know that I cannot make a life out of nothing but vengeance, but it is the life I must lead for now. If…if that cannot work for you, I understand, but I will never lie to you about that.” He shifted uncomfortably on the bed before rising to his feet and enveloping me in a firm hug. I felt him rest his head on the top of mine. “I know, Ver. It’s just hard sometimes when both you and the Force tell me so little about our future.” I slipped my head out and kissed him on the chin. “I will endeavor to keep you better informed then.” He smiled slightly, and then more broadly when I gripped his head with one hand to either side of it and lifted it to face me. “In the meantime, consider our escapades the Jedi version of a teenager’s rebellious stage.” Quorian smirked and kissed me for an eternity that did not last nearly long enough. I disengaged reluctantly. You have a mission to accomplish. After you have secured this artifact, you can take the time you need to consider your path going forward. Now is not the time, but soon you will have plenty of it. Khem was waiting impatiently outside, arms crossed in front of his chest and fangs bared unpleasantly. There was some red splashed across his claws which might have been blood, but I decided it would be best not to ask him about it, particularly given the expression on his face. Quorian gave him a sarcastic wave, which Khem did not seem to appreciate, and then did his best to avoid looking directly at me. I did not blame him, for I had a similar problem facing him as well. As I piloted the speeder out of its hiding place, I looked back long enough to see Quorian tossing a jaunty salute. It was as childish as it was sloppy, but somehow made me feel better nonetheless. Rehanna Rist had chosen an odd location for our rendezvous – an old farmhouse to the northeast of House Rist. I suspected it might have been where she and Nomar Organa met in secret, because I could think of no other reason to meet there, unless she was planning to double cross me. She seemed entirely too intelligent for that, though. The buildings were obviously old and abandoned, somewhat strange for such prime real estate, but a war wounded the land as much as it did the people fighting it. There were scorch marks from blaster fire, and I noticed several pock marks from where grenades must have been detonated during fighting. The mild breeze was somehow sad, too, echoing the whispers of the dead through the Force. I wondered if Organa would sense that too. They were waiting for us in the main ranch house, which was mostly notable for the way its orange paint job remained nauseous long after its vibrancy had faded into familiar dullness. I decided to allow Khem the chance to appreciate that fact more fully and left him outside; I had also determined that my odds for success would probably be substantially increased without the potential intervention of an already-grumpy Dashade. He did not appreciate that logic, judging from the expression on his face, but he also understood his role and accepted my judgment. Nomar Organa must have detected me immediately with the Force, because I encountered him in the entryway I first came into, hand wrapped around the hilt of his lightsaber. His eyes were narrowed, and the tension was thick enough that even a Force-blind person could detect it. Rehanna trailed in his wake, looking decidedly worried as she reached a hand out toward his shoulder. “You. You are a Sith.” The Jedi Master was a master of observation as well as the Force. He whirled to face Rist. “You never told me that your ‘friend’ was a Sith. I suspect because you knew that I would never come. I can’t believe that you would abuse our past relationship like this.” His anger was most unlike a Jedi, and it concerned me. “Nomar – it isn’t like that at all.” Rehanna’s eyes flitted between him and me. “I knew she was a Sith, yes, and I knew you would not be pleased by that. But I did not lie about my feelings for you.” Organa’s face was an unpleasant shade of red – clearly, his years spent as a Jedi had not done much for his ability to control his emotions. I decided to intervene before matters got worse. “Master Jedi, what she says is true. She did avoid mentioning me because she feared your reaction would be negative, but she also genuinely wished to see you. I cannot say anything with regards to that matter, despite being as much of a romantic as one can be after spending time on Korriban.” I paused, attempting to gauge how well my good humor was going over with him. “I am merely here to collect an artifact for another Sith. I do not intend any harm to anyone, and I do not wish for anything unpleasant to happen. I am not like the Sith you expect me to be. Far from it.” “Sith lies, no doubt.” Organa turned on his companion again. “What did this…woman…tell you to get you to agree to be a part of her schemes? I would have thought you better than this, Rehanna.” Rist had managed to gather herself somewhat. “She told me precisely what she told you – that she had been sent here to retrieve an artifact from the Elysium, and that she wanted to avoid any conflict over it. She was the one that…” Rehanna’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “She was the one that noted that I still had feelings for you and suggested that we could kill two gundarks with one stone.” He did not respond right away; instead, he alternated his gaze between the two of us. His expression had softened somewhat, though I could not tell if it was genuine relaxation or merely resignation to a particular course of action. “I see,” he said, demonstrating the Jedi talent for saying things that sounded profound to no one but themselves. “Perhaps I misjudged you, Sith. I am not used to meeting reasonable members of your order.” “There are not many to meet,” I replied with a wry smile. And I am not much of a Sith.” “You could have taken the relic by force,” he noted without directly acknowledging my statement. “It would have been bloody work, but the Elysium’s security is hardly impenetrable for someone like you.” “True, but I did not come to Alderaan to murder innocents. My master, such as she is, ordered me here to retrieve the artifact; she did not give any instructions on how I needed to do so. If I can recover it without any bloodshed at all, then I would consider my mission a greater success than if I had to fight for it. As I said before, I am not the Sith you think I am.” “That does not mean you are a Sith that I would want to help in any way. Do you even know what the artifact is or why your master wants it?” I kept silent, as I was not entirely fond of revealing my own ignorance. “Perhaps you are not a threat to the peace or to the innocent people of Alderaan, but what if your master is?” Truth be told, I knew almost nothing about the objects that Zash had me traversing the galaxy for, and even less about why she wanted them. I had always found that problematic, but it was not as if I had that many options – Zash was not the kind of person I could approach to casually ask prying questions about her business to. “I know that I am fully capable of handling any issues that might arise from her acquiring these objects. I may be a mere apprentice in their eyes, but I am more than that in reality. Use the Force, if you must, and you will discover that I do not make empty promises and am free from deceit. The Jedi are supposed to be open-minded and fair, impartial judges of the truth as it is presented to them. What does it say about you and your order if you judge me solely on your preconceived notions?” Organa did not look particularly convinced by that line of argument. “It could simply say that you and your Sith brethren have earned our distrust after millennia of doing nothing but bring darkness and sorrow to the galaxy. Perhaps you are somehow different, but please forgive me if I do not shed any tears for your supposedly maligned reputation.” I shrugged slightly, doing my best to pretend as if he had not correctly pointed out that the actions and philosophy of the Sith Order were largely to blame for the inevitable hostility that I faced. No doubt, there had been other ‘Sith’ before me that had encountered the same problem; implacable hostility not because of what they had done but because of what others using their name had once done in some long-forgotten place during another of the intermittent wars between the Sith and the Jedi. “I cannot speak for the actions or motivations of others that call themselves Sith, I can only do so for me.” I grit my teeth, wondering if this might well end in violence despite my best intentions. “I do not wish for this to end in violence, and have always sought to avoid unnecessarily causing conflict since arriving on Alderaan. I came to Rehanna peacefully, and suggested a mutually beneficial arrangement that would solve all of our problems without spilling a drop of blood. I do not deny that you have no particularly compelling reason to trust me given your past experience, so I can only ask you judge me for what I have said and done and not what others have.” “Nomar,” Rehanna began as she slipped her arm into the Jedi’s. “This woman has been nothing but diplomatic with me since she…err…accosted me at my residence. I do not believe she is attempting to deceive you, and I know that I am not trying to do so either.” “Indeed,” I interjected. Better to catch Organa while he was still off-guard. “If the relic were truly of any importance or posed any danger, the Jedi Order would not have placed it in a personal vault here on Alderaan. It would make no sense to potentially endanger such a populous world if the object could be safely housed in a Jedi temple or repository. I admit that I am not entirely sure what the capabilities of the artifact are, but I believe we can be reasonably sure that they cannot possibly be as catastrophic as you fear.” “Perhaps.” Though Organa still had a disturbed look on his face, I could sense he was at least considering what I had said, which was a start. “Even if I were to believe all that, though, what reason do I have to assist you? If I give you the relic, then I have aided my order’s sworn enemy for nothing.” I smiled gently and removed the package I had been carrying on me since we had landed on Alderaan, opening it to reveal several scrolls I had appropriated from the libraries on Korriban. “These are descriptions of Sith history dating back several centuries. If I read them correctly, they also include navigational data for several Sith worlds located beyond Republic space. I cannot say whether that information would be of any value to you, but I believe the Republic would be interested in analyzing its potential. I believe that would be a fair exchange for a single artifact.” “And you would give this information to me, knowing that the Jedi and Republic might well use it against your Sith brethren?” Organa eyed me suspiciously. “Again, I must question your motives.” My smile grew. “You mistakenly assume that I care even a whit about the Sith and their minions. I do not. Whatever you or the Jedi Order or the Republic decides to do with the information I have provided is not my concern. My only interest is in acquiring the artifact and then returning to Dromund Kaas so I can find something better to do with my time than serving as an errand girl for…my master.” It had occurred to me that Zash might be known within the Republic, and not for good reasons. “You can also consider me in your debt if you choose to cooperate, for whatever that is worth.” “Nomar, please.” Rehanna reached her hand out to him and I was pleasantly surprised to see him reciprocate the gesture. “We can discuss this somewhere more private, and you can consider her offer more fully.” Organa glanced back in my direction for a moment and gave a surprisingly sly grin. “Perhaps. I will have to be on my guard; you were always rather persuasive.” Something I did not need to hear. I grimaced at the imagery in my head. “Take the Sith scrolls as a gesture of good faith. Keep them, send them to the Order or Republic, do with them as you like. Rehanna knows how to contact me, once you have made your final decision.” I inclined my head slightly and retreated the way I had come, taking several deep breaths as I did so. The meeting had been more confrontational than I had hoped but less than I had feared. Perhaps it would require Rehanna’s…feminine wiles…to complete the deal, but I was reasonably satisfied that the Jedi would at least consider my offer. And if he does not… I decided to push that thought aside. Though I had not known any of my father’s comrades in the Order, I had heard enough of his stories to know that the Jedi were trained to approach such situations with an open mind so that they could judge the proper course of action free from bias. It was hardly surprising that a man like Nomar Organa would not jump at the chance to make a deal with someone he viewed as a representative of everything he had been trained to fight. I also decided that I could use a drink. Khem was waiting for me, my own Dashade-sized akk dog pet eager to do my bidding. As I approached him, he reached out with his hand and returned my comm. “The pirate wished to speak with you regarding your….business dealings.” Khem said business dealings the same way a normal person would speak of a repulsive substance or event. “I informed him that you were busy committing treason against the Sith Order, but the pirate merely laughed. Tulak Hord would never have brooked such insolence.” “Tulak Hord would not have had such a splitting headache, either. Please shut up and wait in the speeder, Khem. I will be along shortly.” We glared at each other for a few moments, but he broke first and sulked his way back to the speeder. Once he was safely out of range, I punched in the code for the slightly less-unpleasant member of my crew. “Sith,” he said as he answered. “Revel.” “You free to talk?” He sounded like he was lounging in some third rate cantina, stretching his arms and being exactly the kind of lout that had made me so hesitant to accept him aboard my ship in the first place. “No, Revel. I decided to call you in the middle of a furious lightsaber duel with Grand Master Satele Shan. “I rolled my eyes. “What did you want?” “I’m over at the Republic spaceport, have a few deals I’m working on. Good stuff, heh. Heard some interesting stories about your friends in House Thul, sounds like they had some major units taken apart by a Special Forces unit from the Republic. Really fascinating stuff, if you ask me.” “I don’t believe I did.” My head was pounding. “Well, I thought you might wanna know that the Thuls need you. Guess they got hit hard enough that they’re calling in all the favors they can. Not sure why they didn’t contact you directly, but they asked I play messenger boy. Heh.” “Most likely, they did not think Khem would do an adequate job as a secretary.” I pondered the situation – I did not know how long Nomar Organa might take, but I was also uninterested in becoming entangled in the planet’s civil war. I glanced over my shoulder at the Dashade glowering at me from the shade. I do not want to have to keep him busy, either. “Very well Revel. We will return to House Thul. I would suggest you wrap up whatever arrangements you have going on, as well. I believe we will be leaving sooner rather than later.” “You got it.” I disconnected from the call before he could say anything more – conversations with men like Andronikos Revel were best killed as soon as possible. I made my way over to Khem and looked him squarely in the eye. “There is trouble with the Thuls, Khem, and I believe we may be forced to resort to violence. Extreme violence.” He grunted in approval and then smiled. It was an uncomfortable trip back to House Thul

Neither of these make any sense given their stories/backgrounds.

I've been trying to work in that reference for a few posts now -------------- I felt a lump grow in my throat when I saw the smile on Garza’s hologram as I entered my cabin and activated my communications console. It wasn’t the cheerful, uplifting smile of someone who was genuinely happy with things; it was the snake-like smile of a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I just hoped I wasn’t it. “Sir.” I snapped to attention and fired off a salute that was straight out of the soldier’s manual. “At ease, lieutenant.” Garza’s smile suddenly became somewhat lopsided. I was beginning to feel very afraid. “First, I’d like to congratulate you on a job well done. Though it would have been preferable if you had managed to complete your mission without alienating a faction within House Organa and killing Bex Kolos.” I tried really hard to look embarrassed. “Sorry about that, Sir. I hope those setbacks don’t affect us too much going forward.” She narrowed her eyes, a lot like Mom used to, and cleared her throat loudly. “Of course. I can always count on you to look out for the potential political and long-term ramifications of your actions.” I felt a drop of sweat forming where my hair met bare skin on my neck. “Fortunately, further consultation with Charle Organa has secured even closer ties with his house. I’m told he even considers you personally responsible.” “You’d be surprised how often I hear that, Sir.” “I doubt it.” I clamped my mouth shut. “In the meantime, the SIS has secured some very valuable intelligence that will be of interest to you. I won’t share it over this channel; it's too important. Your squad will need to report to my task force, currently operating in the Pa’rath system in the Outer Rim. Once you arrive, I will brief you on the unfolding situation and outline your new mission’s objectives.” I thought about asking her for more information, but killed that thought after getting a better look at her holographic face. Whatever was going on involved something big, and if she wasn’t going to even hint at it to me over a holocall, there wasn’t much point in trying to talk her into revealing anything else. I knew what it probably meant, though. Tavus. “We’ll move out immediately, General. I’m sure the squad will be eager to see more action, especially Forex.” Damned droid was even better at fighting than it was at spouting Republic propaganda, which was saying something. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll gather my squad. Sir.” Garza merely nodded as her image faded away. I found Jorgan and Elara both ready to go on the ship, but Forex was nowhere to be found. Confused, I jogged down the ramp and into the hangar bay, surveying the scene to try to find the wayward war droid. Nothing. Growing somewhat concerned, I picked up the pace and ran through the security checkpoint, back into the main hall of our wing of the spaceport. I finally spotted it next to Valyn Thul, who was seated at a small table in a café. What the hell? They were so caught up in their conversation that they didn’t hear me approach, which was just as well given how they’d have launched themselves at me to get me involved. As I got closer, I heard snippets of what they were saying – talk of galactic politics and the excitement of military life; I was unsure which of them was the more enthusiastic participant in the exchange. “Forex.” I cleared my throat and felt a bit sheepish, even though it was just a droid’s conversation that I was interrupting. “We’re shipping out, new mission in coming. Need you back on the ship so we can head out.” The droid rotated its body toward me. “Of course, Sir! I look forward to bravely defending the Republic and her soldiers on many battlefields to come. I only regret that I have but one chassis to give for my country. Why, there is nothing I would not do to serve the Republic in order to ensure its final and glorious victory over the Empire.” Valyn Thul clapped excitedly, while I felt slightly nauseous. “Uh, that’s great Forex. The Republic appreciates your service as much as I do. Probably more so, actually. You are truly a testament to your, uh, kind.” It looked at me with cold metallic eyes. “Thank you, Sir! I am always eager to prove my worth to the glorious cause of our noble Republic and its proud citizens, one and all. Together, we represent the vanguard for the Republic armed forces, which in turn serve as a shining example for everything that is right in the galaxy as we combat the nefarious minions of the evil Empire. We have made great inroads here on Alderaan, smiting the devious and conniving Wolf Baron as we rescued the noble Duke Organa, and –“ “Enough, Forex.” Dealing with a droid was bad enough when it wasn’t reciting material from the propaganda holos verbatim. “I’m sure we all appreciate the finer points of political morality you bring up, but perhaps we can discuss them later. After you get on the ship.” And after I find a restraining bolt that lets me shut you up whenever you get going. “Of course, Sir!” The droid rotated its body to face Valyn Thul. “Miss Thul, it has been an honor serving as your escort. I trust that the Republic-related materials I procured for you will help you learn more about our righteous cause, our drive to bring truth and justice to every Sith-infested corner of the galaxy. In fact –“ “Enough!” I must have said it louder than I intended, because both Forex and Valyn jumped in the air. I rubbed my forehead in exasperation. “Just get back to the ship, Forex. We need to ship out as soon as possible, which means no time for speechifying.” I glared at the droid until it took the hint and shuffled off back to our hangar. Which left me with the largest ball of energy this side of the galactic core. “Oh, Lieutenant Martell, I’m quite glad you were able to find time in your busy schedule to visit; I wasn’t sure you would be able to because you must be so busy with your command.” She snuck a breath in, but finished it before I could get a word in edgewise. “Oh, this has been such an adventure. I never dreamed I would be involved in a high-stakes game of diplomatic tug-of-war, a pawn trapped by the schemes and machinations of both the vicious House Organa and her own, duplicitous, House Thul.” I was beginning to understand why Forex and Valyn enjoyed each other’s company so much. “Uh, yeah, something like that. Where are your parents, Valyn?” I squinted as I shifted my body to look around the room, hoping to see either of them nearby. “Shouldn’t you be with them instead of wandering around with Forex?” “Oh, not at all, Lieutenant Martell. I have determined that spending time with people from the Republic and other walks of life would be most beneficial to expanding my understanding of the galaxy. Why, think of the stories that they could tell me! In only a few short hours, I’ve already learned about so many exhilarating experiences that these people have had.” “Uh huh.” I looked around the room again and noticed a sketchy looking Twi’lek glancing in our direction, a wry smile on his face. “Let me guess, you were talking to one of the smugglers over there?” “Nothing like that, Lieutenant!” Valyn sounded vaguely insulted. “I was speaking with one of the independent contractors over at the dining establishment, and he spoke about his adventures outrunning Imperial cruisers in his freighter. Why, one time he was smuggling people from Tatooine to Alderaan, can you imagine that?” I wrinkled my nose, trying to determine how best to respond. I ended up settling on patting the top of her hand gently. “I think you’d be better off staying away from guys like that, Valyn. There are other ways to learn about the galaxy. Saferways, too.” I gave the Twi’lek a bit of a dirty look, prompting him to look away, though he was still grinning mischievously. “In the meantime, you should find your parents and make sure they’re okay. “ “Oh.” For once, she was unable to come up with a ridiculously verbose response. “Are you leaving then?” She gave me a sad look that made me feel absurdly guilty. “Uh, yeah.” Her expression fell slightly further. “But you and your family can always count on me if you need help with something. I’m always just a holocall away.” I cautiously looked in her direction again and realized I needed to clarify. “Within reason of course. Not all the time. But if you need to." I grimaced. "You know what I mean.” Damned teenagers are as hard to deal with as Elara is. Maker save me. I was about to say more but instead found my mouth covered by the top of her head as she wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. I awkwardly reached around her and hugged her back, trying not to notice how much it felt like when I had said goodbye to my family when I’d left for Corulag…the last time I’d seen any of them. I didn’t want any more family to have to say goodbye to, didn’t want to have anyone else that I’d let down, whether today or at some point in the future. But I was also tired of running away from being the kind of man my parents had raised me to be. Mom hadn’t brought me up to run from those who needed me, and Dad hadn’t passed along lessons on how to shirk what was right. Maybe it was time to remember that, even if it meant taking a leap of faith. “Thank you for all you’ve done.” Valyn murmured into my chest. “You’ve been far lovelier than we could have expected.” I frowned slightly and carefully disengaged myself from her embrace, taking care not to beat too hasty of a retreat. Something – what, I could not say – made me playfully ruffle her hair with my hand as I did so. “Take care of yourself, Valyn. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I thought about that for a moment. “Unless it’s something smart, cause I do some dumb stuff sometimes.” She gave me a puzzled look, then smiled slightly. I took it as a hint to escape while I still could, and turned away so I could jog back with as much of my dignity as I could. Didn’t want to let the bastards at the cantina get the wrong impression and think that I cared about some half-crazed noble girl from Alderaan, after all. The trip to Garza’s staging area went as well as could be expected. Elara somehow managed to have Jorgan tied up with Forex for most of it, and I managed to avoid her by disappearing into my cabin and developing an acute case of deafness when required. I needed the time to recharge, anyway, after nearly screwing up the entire political situation on Alderaan for the Republic. It didn’t help that I had the strong feeling that things were coming to a head, in more ways than one. Garza wouldn’t have ordered the rendezvous unless we were closing in on Tavus. I would have thought that realization would have felt good, but I just felt uneasy. Probably doesn’t help that I’m trying to manage my own personal situation too. Turned out it was a lot harder to avoid someone when you were stuck together on a small ship with little room for maneuver. I decided to try to develop new strategies for dealing with the situation after we took care of Tavus. We dropped out of light speed at our assigned coordinates. The three of us and Forex were greeted to quite the sight out of the cockpit window – she’d managed to scrounge together a quartet of cruisers and several other ships. Definitely Tavus – nothing else would be worth this kind of effort.Garza’s automated signal led us toward the largest of the cruisers; Jorgan piloted us into the ship’s hangar bay, where we left our ship…and our overly enthusiastic war droid. General Garza was waiting for us in the central briefing room, her usual uniform as perfectly pressed as always. She waved away our salutes and went straight to the holodisplay behind her, launching into the briefing I had known would be coming. “Your good work on so many worlds has presented us with an extraordinary opportunity to strike a death blow against Tavus and his service to the Empire. In response to the death of Gearbox, Tavus sent out messages across the galaxy to others that joined him in defecting to the Empire.” Garza paused and gave us a wry smile of triumph. “Unfortunately for him, we were able to intercept those messages with the assistance of our friends in the SIS. Tavus is rattled, and the Empire has begun to lose faith in him because of his failures on so many worlds. Because of this, Tavus has recalled many of his senior commanders to meet on his personal ship, the Justice.” The holographic image of a Harrower dreadnought appeared before us. “With the assistance of several other units, your mission will be to infiltrate the Justice, disable its engines, and then eliminate Tavus as a threat once and for all.” “Eliminate?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is our mission to kill him or capture him?” “Either will be an acceptable outcome.” Garza’s voice had an edge to it, even for her. “Understood, Sir.” That left the glaring question on the table. “If I might ask, how are we going to infiltrate Tavus’ ranks. Somehow, I doubt they’ll be all that pleased to see us.” Garza smiled. “Of course not. But you won’t be Lieutenant Ayrs Martell and Havoc Squad, you’ll be Captain Raul Mendoza, commanding a squad of survivors from the failed operation on Nar Shaddaa. Though Captain Andrik was…regrettably…killed in action, you and your men were able to escape with a prototype Republic war droid.” “Should be good enough to get us on board, at least. Hopefully will keep them off our backs as long as Forex keeps its mouth shut, too.” I stroked the stubble on my chin thoughtfully. “What other squads are involved, Sir?” “Three others. Gallant, Nova and Typhoon.” She nodded in turn at two women and a man across the room from us, presumably the commanders of each of those squads. “Gallant will cover the hangar bay, while Nova and Typhoon will counter any attempts by the defectors to put up an organized resistance. Once you have secured and disabled the engines on the Justice, this task force will jump in and land further reinforcements for the final push. Any questions?” “No, Sir. We’ll go get prepped.” “Excellent, I’ll have the necessary comm protocols forwarded to your ship.” She paused and licked her lips. “We have an opportunity to knock Tavus and his organization out once and for all. I expect nothing less than complete success.” “Yes, Sir!” This time, the entire room spoke as one. We returned to the ship in silence, though that silence was tinged with the nervous anticipation you’d expect from the kind of career-defining mission we had ahead of us. Elara’s brow was furrowed with concentration, and I could only imagine what was going through her mind. Even Jorgan looked a little Truth be told, I didn’t know what to feel. I hadn’t served under Tavus long enough to care about his defection on a professional level, but he’d always been a man I’d admired from afar, a childhood idol for a teenaged me. I was eager to see him and his men brought to justice for their crimes…but there was still some part of me that hadn’t completely accepted that I would be going up against someone that had been a hero of the Republic. No time for that kind of crap now, though. People are counting on you, and there’s a mission to get done. Finish the job, finish Tavus’ organization off, then you can sit on your *** and contemplate the meaning of life all you like. I sighed and made my way over to the room where Forex had decided to create its lair – it needed a new color scheme if we were going to pass him off as ‘captured’ Republic goods. It helped that the job also gave me something to do during the trip out to Tavus’ ship. Better that than hiding in my cabin again, at least. We came out of light speed a few hours later. The Justice was hanging in front of a heavily-cratered moon, without any escorts. The perfect target. Assuming everything was on schedule, the other squads would already have made it onto the ship, and I could only hope they hadn’t been discovered. If they had… Well, if Tavus managed to sniff out the other squads, then at least it’ll be over with quickly. Jorgan responded to the defectors’ hails with the appropriate recognition codes and we all breathed a sigh of relief when they were accepted without issue. Too often, mission planners got caught up in the intricate or flashy aspects of a mission, and they let the more mundane details slip through the cracks. Then again, I should have known Garza wouldn’t be that sloppy. The dreadnought grabbed our ship in a tractor beam to guide us into the hangar, which was as good an excuse as any to abandon the cockpit and make our final preparations. We hadn’t had time for a proper equipment overhaul, but our neutral-colored armor would hopefully be enough – we were meant to be Republic defectors, after all, so it wouldn’t be too surprising if we still had Republic-issue gear. As we disembarked from the ship, we were greeted by a squirrelly-looking captain and six troopers. Judging from their demeanor, everyone else had either made it on board okay or Tavus’ people were the best actors in the galaxy – their only hint of suspicion appeared as Forex clanked its clumsy way down the ramp. The captain stepped forward and put his hand out, while his men lifted their weapons. “Halt. Identify yourselves.” “Captain Raul Mendoza.” I gave my voice a tired, almost haggard, tone. “We were with Andrik on Nar Shaddaa when the Republic hit us hard. We went to ground and managed to recover that droid prototype but…” I shook my head to mimic the sadness the real Raul Mendoza would have felt. “It was rough, real rough.” “I heard the unit the Republic sent after you was their best,” he replied sympathetically. “The stories I heard about their commander from another guy that escaped.” “Damn straight,” I grunted. “Guy was a maniac, like a monster out of one of the stories. He ripped through entire squads practically single-handedly and there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it. Captain Andrik tried to hold him up by sending some of the droids after him, but it was like nothing we did mattered. I wish we’d gotten that guy to join us, he’s the finest damn soldier I’ve ever seen.” The captain’s eyes were bugging out a bit. “Sounds like you’re lucky you got out alive.” “I was. We all were. I don’t know who he is or what turned him into an animal like that, but I don’t ever want to fight him again.” I took a deep breath. “I bet he could probably take out this entire ship on his own. Maker help us if he ever tracks us down again.” It sounded like Jorgan was choking on something, but I chalked that up to another hairball. My counterpart was too busy to notice, as his jaw had dropped and his tongue looked to be in danger of detaching itself from his mouth and falling to the floor. “M-maybe you should get that droid over to engineering and take a break then.” “Sounds like a plan to me.” Worked out nicely, actually, since we needed to get to engineering anyway. “Take care of yourself, captain.” We exchanged salutes, and then the four of us began our trek toward the engineering deck. Security wasn’t very tight, which was surprising, but the traitors had probably been lulled into a false sense of security by their mobile location. We passed by two security checkpoints and at least four patrols that barely paid us any attention, despite the fact we were heading for one of the most sensitive areas of the ship. Even after we entered the engineering area, only a single person – a young-looking Rodian woman – thought to stop us, and even she was dissuaded with the help of my charming smile and winning personality. I left Forex at the bottom of the ramp that led up to the control room – it was far too conspicuous to take up. I wasn’t sure if I could trust Jorgan to handle things if things got hairy, so I left Elara with the droid to keep things under control. If someone gave them trouble, I figured Elara could bury them in paperwork and procedure, anyway. Jorgan took the lead as we entered the control room. There were a handful of pasty-faced techs inside, but they didn’t seem too concerned with what we were doing – not at first, at least. I casually strolled over to the main controls and inserted the data rod with the command override that would let us seize control over the dreadnought’s systems. It was only then that the techs seemed to realize we were up to something, but Jorgan’s assault cannon kept them from trying anything stupid. The system override was surprisingly easy to install – whoever had programmed it had obviously focused their attention on external threats, not those from within. Sorta funny for a ship crewed by a bunch of traitors. I’d just about finished my work when the terrifying wail of the ship-wide alarm went off. Might have been me being sloppy, might just be one of our fellow squads screwing up, but it meant trouble either way. I sped up my work as best I could, but there were only so many shortcuts I could take before I was risking having the entire thing fail. Won’t do us any good to have Tavus jump away and leave us stranded on his ship against a few hundred angry traitors. Stay focused. Focus. Focus. “Sir?” Elara’s voice was slightly raised; I felt my heart leap into my throat just imagining why that might be. I glanced to the side, but Jorgan still had the techs under control. Which meant only one thing. Reinforcements. Maker save me. “Dorne, what’s going on?” I tried and failed to keep my concern out of my voice. “We have company, Sir. Forex and I have established a perimeter of sorts, but we are outnumbered and could use assistance once you have completed overriding the propulsion systems.” Her voice betrayed not a hint of emotion, yet I could still tell she was worried, and that worried me. “Finishing up now. We’re on our way.” I motioned to Jorgan, who pointed the techs toward a utility closet. One of them opened the closet’s door, and then led the others into the room. The Cathar closed the door behind them and activated the locking mechanism. I double tapped the console to upload the final bit of our override, and then the both of us hightailed it out of the room and carefully descended down the ramp. I didn’t like what I saw. “Sergeant – no, Lieutenant.” Her voice was as icy and unfriendly as ever, and the looks on the faces of the squad behind her didn’t help. “You’ve been busy, I see.” “Wraith, it’s good to see you again. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have you pointing a blaster at me.” I kept my tone as airy as possible. “I don’t suppose I can convince you and your men to lay down your weapons and surrender? There’s no need for this to get violent.” She watched Jorgan slip to my left and take up a position behind a large console, though her cold eyes revealed nothing about whether she was at all worried about a potential firefight. “I’m not here to surrender, Lieutenant. You and your Republic are my enemies. That’s all you need to know.” “I suppose it is.” Both groups stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other like something out of a vid. Then, with the flash of one of Forex’s grenades, the room lit up into a pyrotechnic display unlike any I had seen since leaving the academy. Wraith somersaulted out of the line of fire, and most of her squad managed to find some cover, but three of the traitors weren’t moving at all when the smoke began to clear. Good. Give ‘em something to think about. “Forex, loop right then take them from the side. Jorgan – grenades on the left, then I want you to keep the center pinned down. I’ll follow your fire in. Elara, you follow me in.” The droid moved out first, its armored shell reflecting the bolts fired at it into the ground and walls. Its blasters tracked the traitors opposite us and blasted holes into the armor of two of them, lifting them up and out of their cover and sending them flying away. Jorgan’s fire on the other side of the engagement pinned the traitors in from the other side. After a few moments, several tried to make a break for their comrades to their left. Time to move. Jorgan switched to mortar rounds and scatter fire, dropping two more of our opponents, and sending the ret flying in search of cover. I followed Jorgan’s fire in, activating the shields on my armor and lowering my shoulder into the container that was covering Wrath and the remainder of her unit. I heard her gasp in surprise as I forced it backward, driving them back as well. Elara’s pistol fire dropped all three of Wraith’s companions; I ignored them and charged the Mirialan directly, ramming my shoulder square into the spot where her armor met her neck. The impact caused us both to drop our weapons, but she was faster to recover, unsheathing a nasty looking combat vibroblade and nearly taking my right hand off at the wrist. I rolled away from her and lunged for my rifle, but she blocked me off. I still had Mom’s DV-22, but I couldn’t quite reach it with the way my body was contorted. I tried to reposition myself, but her boot caught me across the face as I tried to roll out of my crouch. I found myself flat on the floor, staring up at the conduits and pipes on the ceiling. Damn, that hurt. Packs a punch for someone her size. I heard some screaming from behind me, from unfamiliar voices, thank the Maker. Wraith heard them too, and they seemed to throw her off guard. Even as she moved in with her blade, I swung my legs around and swept them into hers. Wraith crashed to the floor with a surprised yelp, giving me the time I needed to scramble back to my feet. She growled and charged again, but this time I was ready. I caught her wrist in my hand and twisted it as I squeezed as hard as I could. She cried out in pain and dropped the blade before trying to disengage. This time, though, she couldn’t put the weight on her wrist that she needed to perform her acrobatics, and she landed squad on her face. I grimaced slightly as I collected myself and grabbed my rifle. The firefight was over – Jorgan having finished off the last of Wraith’s people – so the room was suddenly and eerily quiet. It was almost as unnerving as being in the middle of a battle. “Surrender, Wraith.” I pointed my rifle at her, trying to remind myself that she’d be more useful as a prisoner than a corpse, no matter how creepily detached I found her. “Your men are dead, and we have you surrounded. Don’t do anything stupid.” Jorgan was circling around her to my left, Forex to my right. I felt the reassuring presence of Elara behind me, though I might have been confusing it with the feeling of a kolto injection. “Hands in the air.” The Mirialan never responded to my request. Instead, she reached into her belt and unclipped a grenade. Before any of us could do anything, she pulled the pin and rushed toward us. Time seemed to slow, giving me plenty of time to see the blank expression on her face. It seemed somehow appropriate for a woman who never seemed to be anything more than a cold enigma. Even her service record had barely hinted at anything more, but suddenly there was no more time to mull that over. Just a loud roar, a wave of heat, and the room went black. I came to a couple of minutes later. My helmet was off, and I could feel the blood on my face and neck, felt like I had a piece of glass in my face or something. Soft hands were gently mopping some of it up. Elara. “El-Sergeant Dorne. Status report?” My words were somewhat garbled but everything seemed to be working okay, other than my head feeling like it used to after one of my nights drinking. “Fine, Sir. You have some facial wounds which will heal with appropriate care, but you are combat-capable.” I caught the flash of something in her eyes as she looked at me, but she flinched instead of meeting my gaze. I shot her a roguish smile. “I’m in good hands with you, Dorne.” Jorgan’s hacking cough cut us off before Elara could respond. Or you could get yourself in trouble, more like. “If we’re good to move out, Tavus is still out there, and we don’t know what kind of resistance to expect.” I suddenly couldn’t quite meet Elara’s eyes, so I gave the Cathar a steely look and nodded as I slid my helmet back on. My face was still sticky with blood but my vision was clear, and so were our objectives. I cut in front of Jorgan and Forex and led the squad back to the door. We’re Havoc. We've got a job to do. There would be plenty of time to embarrass myself later.

I decided to take advantage of the somewhat lengthy trip back to House Thul by contacting Vular. If the conversation ended up being as unpleasant as I suspected it would, I would feel less constrained about following social norms if we were traversing the Alderaanian countryside than I would be in a palace surrounded by the likes of Elana Thul. Particularly when he is taking this long to answer the call. “Ah, Veresia. It is good to hear from you again. I had feared our interactions on Nar Shaddaa might be our last, but the Force has smiled upon us.” “If the Force is doing anything, I suspect it is something other than smiling,” I retorted. “Also, refrain from calling me Veresia, if you would.” “What should I call you, my lady?” “Nothing. I would prefer you not call me at all.” I waited patiently during the silence that followed; perhaps the fool would be self-aware enough to know when to cut his losses. “I can indulge some of your requests, my lady, but not that one. I still believe we have quite the future together as Sith rising to the top, as we were meant to.” I had never heard a man that sounded so smug before. “IF you would only just agree to meet with me again, I am confident I could persuade you of this.” “Did you ever stop to consider that I may not want to be persuaded of anything by the likes of you, Vular?” I was tired of the man; tired of his posturing, tired of his harassment, tired of his existence. “I have no interest in your delusions of Sith grandeur. I never will. Accept that as the answer to your question, or be destroyed.” The silence was as deafening as it was welcome, and it was almost enough to convince me that I had rid myself of the detestable man for good. Of course, the galaxy was rarely that kind to me, and it proved that maxim yet again. “I…regret…your obstinacy. I had hoped that we could find common ground and reach some sort of arrangement. Perhaps you will reconsider my offer – think it over. I believe we have a future together, even if you do not yet see it.” “Perhaps you will see the light about where we stand soon, Vular. For your sake, as much as mine. I think it is you that needs to consider their position and meditate upon it. If you are wise enough to heed my warning, you will leave this planet and never make the mistake of attempting to contact me again.” I sweetened my voice somewhat, to better emphasize my point. “If I were to encounter you in person again, I might be forced to commit all sorts of terrible misdeeds. It would be a shame if you were found dismembered or otherwise hurt.” “Of course.” He sounded about ready to say something else, but the moment passed and I heard him close the channel instead. I could not deny that the man confounded me. He had been the one to take me from Imperial custody to Korriban, but he had always treated me with a twisted sense of gentleness. Not to spare me the horrors I was about to see, of course, but to feather his cap and look good for his masters. That was the way of the Sith, after all – they did nothing for anyone else unless it would improve their own lot. Or cause someone else to suffer. Vular wanted me, but not in the same way that Quorian did. The latter wanted to be with me, to share in my joys and support me I had none. Vular wanted to control me, to own me. He wanted me to be his, and I never would be. It was a disturbing realization, and one that suggested I might need to take action against him. There was no time to do anything for the time being, though. Elana Thul and her Sith pet were waiting for us upon our arrival, looking entirely too pleased with themselves. I hoped their expressions might be due to having information regarding Rehanna Rist, but I had learned to never hope for the best since entering Imperial space. It was far more likely that they had devised a scheme to poison orphans or some such thing than anything useful. “My lady, you have returned.” Moren bowed slightly, a respectful gesture that did not quite reach the subservience of a servant’s bow. It was rather obnoxious, either way. “We were able to locate Rehanna Rist and I have begun plotting a strategy for incorporating her into a plan to lure Nomar Organa to Alderaan.” “Truly?” I left the sarcastic edge in my voice somewhat understated. “And what plan have you managed to concoct?” An awkward silence followed, which answered my question as well as either of them could have. Thul fidgeted with her hair, and neither her nor Moren could seem to meet my gaze. “You were unable to create a plan, I take it? I suppose you did emphasize that you were only plotting a strategy on how to incorporate the information into a plan.” I slapped my thigh with exaggerated gesture. “I cannot imagine what madness led me to believe an actual plan might have resulted.” The pair shared a look, far too quickly for me to read accurately. Their nervousness was more than obvious in the Force, though. I decided to allay their fears with a soothing gesture. “There, there. I am sure you worked as hard as you could. Rest assured, I have begun my own contemplation of the issue, and I formulated my own plan.” They nodded their heads in approval, as if that mattered to me. “Before I begin acting on that plan, though, can you think of anything I should know about House Rist in general or Rehanna Rist in particular?” “House Rist has a rather poor reputation here on Alderaan, my lady.” Thul’s face was scrunched up, as if carefully considering what she was going to say next. “They have long been surrounded by dark rumors of being master assassins and poisoners. How much of that reputation is true…I cannot say for certain, but I must admit I am surprised the Organas would have ever considered such an arrangement.” “Perhaps the houses did not arrange anything,” I speculated. “Perhaps it was simply a matter of two people falling in love.” Moren seemed to agree that my hypothesis was at least possible, but Thul was regarding me as if I had said the Alderaanian sky was purple. “That…that would be most irregular. Most irregular. I would never even consider such a rash course of action, and I somehow doubt a man of Nomar Organa’s psychology would do so either. Why would a man who a dedicated his life to the Jedi Order be so irresponsible?” I shrugged; the woman was beginning to irritate me. “I cannot say. Perhaps it fell apart and that trauma was what drove him into the Order. Perhaps his adherence to the Order was wavering and he encountered Rehanna Rist at precisely the right time – or the wrong one. For the moment, it does not matter; the only thing that does is that Rehanna Rist represents a potential opening for drawing Nomar Organa to Alderaan. I must speak with her and determine how much of an opening that is.” “That…that is the other problem, my lady.” Thul and Moren both looked nervous. “House Rist is hostile toward House Thul and has allied itself with house Ulgo, another of my house’s enemies. I fear that Rehanna Rist may not be receptive to working with you.” I skewered the woman with a harsh glance. “I believe she intends to coerce Rehanna Rist into assisting,” Moren murmured. “Nothing too extreme, I hope.” In fact, I hoped I could discuss the situation with the woman peacefully. “I would not want House Rist to hold any grudges against House Thul, after all.” “Of course.” Elana Thul’s face scrunched up again, a most tiresome display. “My lady, I was wondering if it would be too forward to ask a favor of you, while you are already working with House Thul.” I was tempted to say that it would be too presumptuous, but managed to restrain myself through a supreme effort of self-control. Instead, I made a noncommittal gesture toward her. “I can consider it – my work iis of paramount importance, though.” “Of course, of course. The political situation on Alderaan may be in disarray, but no one in House Thul would ever fail to appreciate the sacrifices the Empire has made to support us.” She coughed twice, though both seemed natural and unrelated to what she had just said. “I have heard rumors of planned operations by House Organa that may place this house in jeopardy. Can House Thul call upon for aid should we require it?” “You can certainly call.” I left the rest unsaid. “In the meantime, I have a meeting with Rehanna Rist to attend to.” Elana Thul bowed her head somewhat shakily. As we neared the entrance to the palace, I felt a hand around my right arm, a gentle grip despite the potential firmness behind it. “My lady, I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment?” It was Moren again, with his damned Sith eyes and creepy voice. “One might say you have just spoken with me for several moments, Moren.” I planted my hands at my hips. “However, I am in a forgiving mood. What is it you want?” Moren frowned . “A man came to House Thul while you were away. A Sith. He spoke of you and wished to learn about your movements and plans.” “Harrion Vular.” The name was a bitter taste upon my tongue. “He has haunted my life since the day I was taken from the camp that made me and was brought to Korriban for training. What did you tell him? Be truthful.” “I told him nothing of value, my lady.” Moren’s clipped tones were somehow reassuring now. “I spoke in general terms of you operating on behalf of Darth Zash but stated little beyond that. I believe that he accepted my words as truth, but I cannot say for sure.” The lumbering oaf flushed slightly. “I must admit that I am not as proficient at lying as one ought to be as a Sith.” I eyed him curiously, wondering if that was a true admission or merely a lure to draw me in. “One must always look to one’s weaknesses to know where next to begin work. Perhaps your encounter with Vular was meant to be a lesson to you, to show you how you might better develop within the order.” I wonder if that even makes any sense – I am hardly one to be giving motivational speeches to a Sith of all people. He nodded. “I will take your words under advisement, my lady. You are as wise as you are beautiful, if it is not too much to say.” It was with exasperation rather than surprise that I replied. “It is not too much to say, but it is too much to expect me to care. You would do well to remember your place.” I whirled on Khem as I heard the chuffing of laughter from behind. “You would do well to remember the same, Khem. I am your master, not your friend.” The Dashade’s facial expression was a profoundly irritating mixture of annoyance and faux shame. “I regret any impertinence on my part, my lady.” Moren gave another of his apologetic bows; I almost hoped that he would unbalance himself and fall over. At least he would then be amusing as well as annoying. “I only wished to express my admiration for you.” “Yes, of course.” I gave him a cursory nod. “And you wished to express your interest in bedding me.” His face turned a delightful shade of purple. “Oh, don’t play the coy innocent with me, Moren, I have been around the Sith for too long, to say nothing of males in general. Perhaps I can spare you further blushes by leaving now?” I arched an eyebrow. “Y-yes. That would be good, my lady. I think.” I smiled sweetly. “Do try to get ahold of yourself, Moren. It would be a shame if Elana Thul discovered you were nothing but a foolish boy in a man’s body.” His mouth snapped shut with a satisfyingly loud noise as Khem and I resumed course and made our way back to our speeder. I let my murderous companion take the controls, while I took out my comlink. Khem was hardly the kind of company I wanted during a call to Quorian, but it wasn’t as if I had all that many options. Not with so much more work to do. The wait I experienced after dialing the necessary codes and entering the appropriate catchphrases felt interminable, but at long last I heard his soothing tones in my earpiece. “Veresia? I was hoping to hear from you.” “As always, Quorian.” There was something strangely tense about him; I could sense it in his voice alone. “I hope you are well?” “Much better now.” I visualized him giving me a trademark wink and smiled. “I did manage to find my way to a certain Core planet, though what the Imperials and Sith scum are doing here is quite beyond me. Perhaps I can interrogate you and find out. Make myself look good for Master Shan.” I wrinkled my nose even as I laughed – despite his playful tone, there was definitely something off about Quorian. “I am sure you would fail no matter how hard you tried.” Khem glanced over at me and glared menacingly, baring the tips of his fangs. “Perhaps.” He took a deep breath. “I am not sure what your…schedule…is like, but the Jedi have a safe house near House Alde that happens to be available for a few days.” “That sounds like something I might be interested in, though I require some time before I can arrive…perhaps hours, I am not quite sure.” My stomach was strangely twisted into knots, both because of Quorian and because I realized that Khem had parked the speeder beneath some trees and looked about ready to murder me. “I have some business to attend to.” “Some business to attend to,” Quorian replied, somewhat dubiously. “Do I want to know what it is? Are you hacking and slashing your way through Organa soldiers, or blasting herds of akk hounds with Force Lightning?” Jedi humor. I snorted. “Nothing quite so macabre, though you seem to have quite the Sith-like imagination, if you ask me. I have a meeting with a representative of House Rist that I must attend. If it isn’t too much of a bother, I can contact you on this channel after I finish and arrange for our rendezvous at your safe house?” Khem growled something at me that I did not quite catch. It did not matter, though; I could already sense an argument with the Dashade brewing once I finished the call with Quorian. “That, uh, sounds like a plan. Is my dear friend Khem there, by any chance?” I pondered how best to answer the question, seeing as I did not want to spark a larger argument that might end up with one or both of them dead. “Yes, did you want to say hello?” Quorian laughed uneasily at that. “No, was just checking. Can’t be too careful, even around my favorite Sith.” “Of course.” I felt suddenly tongue-tied, as if I was back in middle school. “So, I’ll contact you when I finish with House Rist. I will attempt to keep any bloodstains away from my clothing, to enhance your experience.” For a moment , Quorian’s silence worried me, but then I realized he was merely trying and failing to come up with a snappy comeback. “Looking forward to it, Veresia.” He was strangely serious again, but the connection was dead before I could even begin to ask why. “Little Sith, it is time to speak.” With his arms crossed over his monstrous chest, Khem suddenly felt like an unwanted parent or older brother. “You demean both of us with your continued dalliance with your Jedi lover.” “And you need to learn your place. I will offer some advice, Khem, my love life is not it.” I frowned at him, feeling the beginnings of genuine anger forming in the pit of my stomach. “I’ve spoken with you about this before, and I thought we had reached an agreement about it. Why are you raising the subject again?” “We had also discussed the importance of our mission, Little Sith. Yet again, you have placed your own unnatural desires above fulfilling your destiny as a Sith. Tulak Hord would never have allowed himself to be distracted by passions of the flesh.” “Tulak Hord was also so consumed by the Dark Side that he probably would not understand what we’re talking about. I grow tired of explaining myself to you – if you cannot accept the fact that I have no intention of becoming a grim and brooding beast such as yourself, perhaps I can find a black hole to shoot you into.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Or, you can remember your pledge to me on Korriban and ignore those aspects of my life that do not concern you. The choice is yours.” His jaws tensed, as if he was considering a sharp response. Or he is considering whether to eat me. “This Jedi fiend will bring you only shame and despair, mark my words. You may be strong with the Force, but you are still a foolish little girl, Little Sith. The galaxy is no place for the likes of you.” He huffed and returned to the controls. “Perhaps even foolish little girls need their rays of sunshine,” I murmured, too quietly for him to hear. House Rist was located in a mountainous region, with every one of the easy-to-access paths patrolled by large groups of guards. If what Elana Thul had stated was accurate, I could expect a hostile greeting from them, and there were far too many to hope to force my way through. Fortunately, I had an ally that the planners of the fortress had not anticipated; the Force. I infused my muscles with the raw energy flowing through me, and used my newfound ability to begin clambering up an otherwise unclimbable outcropping of rock, stopping only to use the Force to levitate Khem along with me. It was not an easy exercise, but the weight pressing down upon my chest grew lighter as we progressed toward the top. At long last, we found ourselves looking down upon the Rist palace, though the complex was so large and complex that I realized our task was only beginning. I reached out with the Force, but soon realized that it would do me no real good because I did not know how to tell Rehanna Rist from anyone else. We will have to do this the old fashioned way. At least Khem will be happy. As we carefully made our way toward the buildings, I noticed a security captain patrolling the courtyard alone, the perfect target. When he approached our position, I silenced his attempt at a scream by choking off his airway as gently as possible, and then levitated him toward us. His eyes were as big as sensor dishes when he arrived. “Puh-puh-lease don’t hurt me. I m-might have a wife and children some day!” Khem snorted. “You are a pathetic creature and it would please me to rain death and destruction on all in this house, but the Little Sith requires information.” I leaned in and offered the panic-stricken man a slight smile. “Hello. I am looking to become acquainted with Rehanna Rist. Where might I find her?” “I-I don’t…” His voice trailed off as he carefully studied my face and realized that I was not in the mood for games. “She is located in the library tower, over there. She has chambers marked with a crimson blade.” He gestured toward a tall, thin, building that was a few minutes’ walk from our location. “P-please don’t kill me.” Khem looked at me with expectant eyes, like an akk dog pup waiting for a treat. I shook my head, and sent a wave of Force energy into our captive, rendering him unconscious. Khem then draped the man’s limp body over some rocks, out of sight of anyone in the courtyard. After I ensured he wouldn’t be discovered any time soon, Khem and I began our march toward the tower Rist was in. We were fortunate – the patrols we encountered along the way were filled with weak enough minds that some careful persuasion convinced them to leave us alone. We reached the door with the crimson blade over it, conveniently located on the ground level of the tower. With the door magnetically sealed, I was left with no alternative except to slice through the metal with my lightsaber, cutting open a large enough circle to fit both Khem and me . Once Khem had pushed the smoking remnants of the door aside, we stepped into a console-filled room. A woman about two to three decades my senior was waiting, more handsome than beautiful. She jumped back as we entered, clearly startled. “Who are you?” Her hand hovered over a hold-out blaster at her hip, but I dissuaded her from any foolish action. “W-what do you want?” “Lady Rist.” I gave her a half-bow, though even I was not sure if I was being sarcastic about it. “I have come to discuss someone you were once acquainted with, Nomar Organa.” Her eyes lit up for a moment, betraying her recognition…and his importance to her. “I need to speak with the man, and I believe you may know how to get in contact with him.” “Nomar…” She shook her head. “That was a long time ago. I have not spoken with him in too long. Many years, that is. I am afraid I would not be too useful , even if I were inclined to help you. The monster beside you suggests caution, at the least.” I could not really deny the wisdom of being skeptical of anyone that traveled with a Dashade. “I realize that my companion is…a sight. However, I have no interest in harming anyone; I merely need an artifact that he has control of access to. Surely you could at least help me communicate my need to him?” “What need does a Sith have of a Jedi artifact?” “My…master…requires it. I do not share her taste for violent resolutions, though, and am hoping to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.” Rist shook her head. “I still don’t understand what you hope I can do for you. Obviously, you must have discovered our engagement, or you would not be here. That was years ago, though…I doubt he even thinks of me any longer. Not after he broke it off to dedicate his life to the Jedi Order.” “I was under the impression that the Jedi Order did not strictly forbid romantic relationships, perhaps he was unaware of that.” It did not take the Force to sense that the woman still had feelings for Organa. “I will leave if you ask me to, but it seems to me that this situation is an opportunity for you as much as it is for me.” The Alderaanian woman was silent for some time, pursing her lips and twisting a loose strand of hair around her index finger. She was not nervous; if anything, she radiated a hopeful feeling in the Force, which suggested that she was inclined to agree with me. For a moment, I wondered if I should retract my statement – some part of me did not want to see someone else hurt so I could secure a trinket for Darth Zash. The moment passed – I could not afford to derail my greater project over trivial matters. “Why should I believe that you won’t simply kill one or both of us once you have whatever it is you need?” “A fair question. However, I believe you have answered this yourself with how you have approached this conversation, Lady Rist. You have not summoned any guards or attempted to set off any alarms – you are aware of what I might do, but you also realize that I do not intend to act in that manner. The same is true here. “ I grimaced. “While I do not doubt that Nomar Organa would gladly run me through with his lightsaber if given the chance, I do not feel the same way and…I also know what it is like to lose that which you love. Some Sith are born into their role. Others are….forced.” “To ensure I understand properly, you want me to contact Nomar and entice him back to Alderaan with false talk of reigniting our relationship.” “No.” I spoke more forcefully than I intended, because she took a step back. “The talk need not be ‘false’. I do not need the Force to detect your unresolved feelings for him. Regardless of what you think of me, not all Sith have forgotten what it means to love. I certainly have not.” Rist eyed me suspiciously. “What would you know of love?” A difficult question in the best of times for most people, an impossible one for me right now. How do I explain the friends and family that I lost? How to describe what I feel when I am around Quorian? “I know,” I replied quietly, hoping my intonation would answer her in ways my words never could. Her voice was quieter now, too. “And you swear you won’t harm him in any way? That this isn’t some trap for your own gain?” “I’m not here for any of that,” I replied as reassuringly as I could. Silently, I cursed the fact that I was fond of wearing dark robes to imitate the Sith that people assumed I was. “There is nothing I need that requires violence – my master never decreed that I could not make this a diplomatic mission. I ask that you trust me on that.” “Very well. I…I do wish that Nomar and I had resolved things. One way or another. I-I will need to…prepare myself.” A small, shy, smile flashed across her face. “I feel almost like I did back then. How strange.” “These are strange days for all of us, Lady Rist. When you have news, please contact me on my personal channel.” I glanced behind me. “I will be sure that my intimidating friend is not there to meet Master Organa.” With that, I bowed my head slightly and led Khem out of the room. We retraced our steps back to the outcropping we had started from. The captain was still lying there unconscious, so the descent proved rather simple, though Khem’s weight was more difficult to manage through the Force than it had been when we were going up. I made a mental note to more closely monitor his diet. I contacted Quorian the moment we were safely away from House Rist. His voice was livelier this time, which cheered me somewhat. “How’s my favorite Sith doing? Did you manage to avoid getting your robes stained with the blood of your enemies.” Khem snorted loudly, so I began by shushing him. “My meeting was successful, yes. I appreciate your concern. I would appreciate directions to your safe house even more.” “This conversation is nauseating,” Khem interjected. My system beeped as the coordinates arrived. I entered them into our navicomputer, allowing Khem to put the speeder on autopilot for the remainder of our trip. Khem continued to grumble about the insult to the memory of Tulak Hord under his breath, but soon realized that I did not give a damn about his continued judgment of my social life, and then fell silent. The Alderaanian landscape was much more enjoyable without Khem’s commentary and the ever-looming threat of imminent death. A part of me was saddened by the fact that the petty war between the nobles was likely to damage much of the lush foliage beyond recognition. We arrived at the Jedi safe house half an hour later; it was another nondescript building that would never have drawn any attention to it if I had not been looking for it. Quorian was waiting by a tree near the front door, partially hidden by its large branches. Khem stopped the vehicle so I could get out. I landed softly on the grass, then turned back to my Dashade companion. “Feel free to roam as you please, Khem, so long as you are ready for action when I call. Please try to avoid any mass murder while I am occupied.” He glared up at me, but I no longer cared about Sith artifacts or Alderaanian nobles or even the feelings of my closest to companion. It was important to remember that there was far more to the galaxy than the machinations of those around me. Quorian’s arms were warm as they enveloped me, and his lips were even warmer as they brushed against mine. I let you a girlish squeal as his kisses moved down my neck. The wind blew gently through my hair as we went inside. For a moment, I was no longer the conflicted woman on Alderaan; I was the dreamer on Ithaca, the girl with so many potential futures ahead of her. It was a nice feeling.

The cantina by the Republic camp wasn’t much to write home about, but it wasn’t like we needed anything fancy, and everyone from Garza and the duke on down had agreed it wouldn’t be a good idea to show my face again at the palace any time soon. Fine by me, anyway, since I hated the damn place – much better to spend my recreational time where I belonged, with the closest thing I had to friends on this miserable planet. Well, except for one. Elara had politely declined my – our – invitation to come, saying she preferred a quiet night on the ship to unwind from our mission to drinking. I’d tried to change her mind, but after a bit I’d realized a stupid bout of alcoholism wasn’t worth harassing her over, so I’d let her off easy. After flashing me another of her smiles, she’d wandered off with Forex, presumably discussing the most efficient ways to annoy me with protocols or debates on the rights of droids in the Republic. I had more important things to worry about, like why Amitia’s mug of Lomin ale appeared slightly fuller than mine. I peered at her over the foam from my own drink, casually ensuring neither Kira nor Jorgan were watching me too closely from their sides of the table. After a few moments of careful reconnaissance work, I realized that Amitia had indeed taken the fullest mug for herself. Most unlike a Jedi. For shame. “How long are you guys on Alderaan for,” the miscreant was saying. Had it not been for my keen observational skills, her crime might have even gone unnoticed. “That’s classified!” I took a gulp from my mug before slamming it back down loudly, drawing a couple of annoyed looks from the surrounding patrons. “Besides, what does a Jedi need to know about military dispositions?” “I think he’s onto you, boss,” Kira whispered surreptitiously, covering her mouth with her hand. “He’s a smart one.” “Let’s not go too far. Keep pumping up the kid’s ego and he won’t be able to fit his head through the doorway on the way out.” Jorgan’s voice was so loud and irritating. It was like he was yelling for some reason. I made an irritated waving gesture at him, but he didn’t seem to take the hint. “Everyone knows I’m the clever one in Havoc, anyway.” I elbowed him sharply in the ribs and enjoyed the audible oof I got in response. “In all seriousness, we’re only going to be on Alderaan until we get assigned somewhere else.” “So you’re here until you’re not here?” Amitia’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I can see why you’re considered the elite of Special Forces.” Jorgan snickered slightly, but said nothing, leaving me to defend the honor of Havoc Squad. “I’m afraid we can’t share operational details with anyone outside of the chain of command, not even with the up-and-coming superstars of the Jedi Order.” I gave my Cathar compatriot a glance out of the side of my eye. “I’m sure Jorgan would love to share all sorts of things with you, though.” Amitia snorted loudly, then laughed at Jorgan’s obvious discomfort. “I’m sure he would. A shame we can’t bring you along on our mission, though – it’s something right up your alley.” “And you’re much better company than Master Din,” Kira added, earning herself a playful slap on the head from her partner. “Where’s the rest of your squad, though?” “Forex would probably just start harassing the other customers about their true loyalties or something. And Elara…” Elara decided to spare me the embarrassment of stammering my way through the evening. “Uh, Elara was busy taking care of some paperwork or something. She’s always covering for us that way.” The two Jedi exchanged a look and then sly smiles that I liked about as much as an Imperial blaster rifle pointed at my head. I cursed my own clumsiness, since I didn’t even have her presence to justify it, then gulped down some more ale to try to cover for the faux pas. I suddenly felt like I was a kid again, stuttering my way through telling Ariel how I felt about her so I could ask her to attend the Winter Festival Dance with me. Just as stupid now as I was then. Kark. “You know, I’m not even sure Jedi are supposed to be seen carousing with Republic soldiers,” Amitia said loudly, another twinkle in her eye. “We’re supposed to be defending the galaxy from louts, not drinking with them.” “Referring to the lieutenant as a lout is an insult to louts everywhere,” Jorgan commented sourly. I slapped him on the back of his head. “Agreed,” Amitia replied, nodding a bit too happily for my taste. “Seems to me he could prove us wrong, though…if he buys the next round or two.” I glanced around the table, but there wasn’t any use in fighting a battle that I’d already lost, so I shrugged and handed over my cred card. Amitia’s hand swallowed it whole, and I watched in despair as she slid the card into the payment slot on the table – another few dozen creds down the drain. “You’re wrong about that, though, Amitia. Ain’t nothing wrong with a Jedi carousing with anyone, let alone a trooper.” I spoke before my brain realized what I was saying, and I regretted every one of my words as they slipped out from between my lips. “Really? How would you know that, hot shot?” Kira teasingly elbowed me in the ribs, which didn’t feel as bad as it normally would have with several beers already in me. “My dad spent plenty of time carousing with my mom, didn’t seem to affect him much.” I felt my cheeks warm slightly, though I hoped that was just the alcohol. “Other than the whole leaving the Order to start a family thing, I guess.” “Your father was a Jedi?” Amitia leaned in closer, the universal sign of someone expecting you to keep talking even when that was the last thing in the galaxy you wanted to do. Should have kept your damn mouth shut. You’re always talking your way into trouble. “Yeah, during the war.” Immediately after I finished the sentence, I recognized the looks of expectation on their faces, and knew I’d have to say more. “My parents met on Balmorra and a romance for the ages bloomed. He left the Order later on, though, so they probably deleted him from the archives and what not.” Amitia wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “So why’re you slumming it with Jorgan instead of with us.” “The Force is weak with this one,” I said with an exaggerated grimace. “Besides, where’s the fun in waving around a laser sword when you can hit people in the face with a rifle butt.” I winked at the two Jedi and arched an eyebrow at Jorgan. “Or blow them away with the most over-the-top phallic symbol this side of a Harrower.” They laughed, while the Cathar merely glowered at over the rim of his mug. “Sounds like you have your priorities straight, Lieutenant.” Kira leaned over to tap in a request for another round. “How’s the hunt for the Havoc traitors going?” “Almost got them,” I replied with a grim but satisfied smile. “I wish they’d made better decisions but…at the end of the day they chose wrong. I’m hoping we can capture Tavus, though, find out more about why he did it.” I sighed. “And what he’s told the Imps. And about the other troops followed Havoc over. We could be vulnerable in a number of areas.” “Sounds like the Empire’s getting prepared for another war,” Amitia noted. I nodded. “And soon. The Brentaal Star. Imperials infiltrating Coruscant and setting up backroom deals with the Justicars, stealing or otherwise ‘appropriating’ Republic assets, even messing around in Alderaanian politics. At the very least, they’re trying to stir things up, but subtlety isn’t exact in the Imperial playbook. My guess is we’re heading for another big one. Maker help us if we’re not ready.” The two Jedi exchanged another look, more worried this time. “The Sith are up to something too,” Amitia said with a soft voice. “They were on Coruscant and…they’re involved in more than a few other things too. Master Din is concerned about what their next move will be. I can’t blame him.” “Well at least you’ve got an easy job if anything gets started.” I winked and laughed at their confused reaction. I pointed to their sabers. “Stick ‘em with the pointy end.” This time Jorgan hit me on the back of the head. “Behave yourself, Lieutenant.” He turned to face our companions. “Believe me, ladies, this is actually Martell at his most charming.” I felt a sudden warmth in my cheeks and proffered a weak smile that provoked furious giggling. “Maybe you’ll see me in the next ‘Patriots of the Republic’ calendar.” Amitia laughed, “I’ll keep an eye out. Maybe two.” “For now, though…” Kira began before trailing off. “…We need to get going,” Amitia finished. “Master Din is supposed to report back to us soon, and we might need to be in good enough condition to act.” She elbowed me sharply in the ribs. “Unlike some people.” “I think she’s talking about you, Lieutenant.” Jorgan was always so insightful. I rose from my seat, trying to keep things diplomatic even in the face of the Cathar’s rudeness. “If you need any help, feel free to give us a call on our comm channel. Can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to get clearance from Garza, but I can see what we can do.” Amitia smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around me in a firm hug. “You take care of yourself, Ayrs. It’s too much fun doing your work for you guys.” “It’s always nice to have such great friends,” I replied with a smirk. She replied with a wink, then released me from her vice-like grip and made her way over to Jorgan. Kira stepped into her place and hugged me too, though she was kind enough to allow me to breathe while doing so. As they left, I heard Jorgan sigh softly. “There goes the closest thing to a love life you’ve had in months, Jorgan.” I purchased the next pair of drinks to show I meant no offense. “You’re one to talk,” he shot back sharply. I grimaced – accurate insults tended to be the worst. Luckily I was more trying to avoid any thoughts of romance than I Was trying to attempt one, but damned if I was going to let the Cathar in on that. “Course, maybe there’s a reason for that.” I stared off into space, trying my best to act natural until the drinks came. I hadn’t told him anything – I wasn’t stupid, after all – but I also knew I wasn’t the most subtle guy around, either. Not like he hasn’t been ribbing you about it since you met her on Taris, anyway. Our awkward silence was interrupted by the loud sound of someone slapping both of us on the back at the same time. I rotated in my seat to see Cormac, who looked none the worse for wear. Somehow, that sight was more reassuring than I would have imagined, given how much trouble I had assumed he would be in. “Captain, come join us.” I waved him toward the empty seats our Jedi friends had vacated. “Pick your poison, it’s on Jorgan.” The Aldaraanian gave us both an odd look, as if deciding if we were laying some kind of trap for him, then shrugged and took the seat across from me, at Jorgan’s elbow. “Call me Balic, please, we’re all off duty.” “Ayrs, then.” I hated people calling me by my rank when we were off duty, too. Cormac and I turned in unison to face Jorgan, who was sipping his drink – a ping, foamy, concoction – out of a straw. “What?” “Ignore him,” I advised the captain as he input his order “Hope you aren’t in too much trouble over the various stunts we’ve pulled here over the past few days.” “If you are, feel free to blame him,” Jorgan added with a snide smile. “Nothing like that. When the Duke straightened everything out, they cleared me of any kind of review. He even said I might be up for a promotion.” Cormac paused for a moment as his drink arrived. “Pallos was never all that popular with the general population, just his circle of cronies and some of the hard-liners.” “No trouble for the Republic then?” I knew Garza would have my back, regardless, but I didn’t want to be responsible for karking up an important alliance. Especially not one I had been explicitly ordered to maintain and strengthen. “Can’t say that for sure.” He shrugged and took a lengthy drink from his mug. “But I doubt you’ll have too many problems. As much as these nobles like to act like they’re big and scary, they know the Republic’s help will be necessary for winning the war. Heard they’re even bringing in some Jedi to help mediate after you helped put us in a better position.” “No kidding? Maybe they’ll give us a medal for this, then.” Cormac simply laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. For what it’s worth, it was an honor to work with some of the Republic’s best.” “And Jorgan, don’t forget him.” The Alderaanian laughed again as Jorgan shot daggers across from me. We clinked our mugs together, then drank heartily . Cormac and I did, at least.. Jorgan’s drink required careful management of his straw. Not for the first time, I wondered what the hell he had ordered, but something made me suspect I was better off knowing. Cormac had only been at the table for about thirty minutes before I noticed his head dipping and speech slurring Damned lightweights, all of them. I realized that duties at a nobleman’s police probably precluded the type of recreational drinking soldiers might enjoy, but it still caught me by surprise. Course, he probably hasn’t spent years trying to drink away bad memories and feelings, either. As it happened, Cormac was an avid fan of huttball, though, which made for good conversation while also boring Jorgan enough to order something with a little more kick. It was about thirty minutes, or maybe two hours, later that I felt my comm buzzing against my arm. I gave the other two men a small hand gesture to let them know I had a call to take, then slid off the seat and carefully made my way into a quieter, more secluded, area. Everything seemed to be moving at an odd pace; even my own gait was oddly sluggish, but I hadn’t had all that much to drink, so I wasn’t sure why. “Hello?” I must have been too loud, because I drew a couple of looks from a maintenance crew passing by. “Sir? It's El-Sergeant Dorne. I was just calling to ensure you and Sergeant Jorgan were all right. It is rather late.” I glanced at my chrono and realized she was right. “Uh, yeah. Everything’s great here, we’re all fine.” I stumbled over my words – alcohol only exacerbating my usual problems around her. “How are you?” I winced. “I am…fine, sir.” I couldn’t quite tell if she was amused or still worried. Possibly both. “Perhaps I should leave you two to your…recreation.” This time there was a definite hint of amusement. “Uh, yeah. Thanks! We’ll be back soon. Soon-ish. Not too long. I’m hanging up now.” I cursed and disconnected, slapping myself a couple of times in the face. So karking stupid. Get a grip. I did just that, holding onto a railing to guide me back into the cantina. When I returned to our table, I noticed Cormac was already slumped over it, snoring as loudly as mom had. “What-what a lightweight,” Jorgan sneered shakily; he looked barely better off than our Alderaanian friend. “Haven’t seen someone fall apart like that since this Imperial the Deadeyes and I tracked down on Vrthlak.” “Vrthlak,” I repeated stupidly. “Tell you what, Jorgan. You’re not so bad once you get totally drunk. I think I even like you.” I leaned in closer and whispered, “Don’t let anyone know alright?” “You’re not too bad yourself. For a green kid with a big attitude, that is. You could have done worse.” Coming from Jorgan, that was unusually high praise – clearly, the alcohol was affecting him more than he realized. I grinned evilly and finished my drink; Jorgan had already ordered our next round. Good man, that one, at least in a cantina. As we waited, I noticed a familiar sight in the doorway. A decidedly unpleasant sight at that. “Oh Master, it is good to see you.” The Maker-damned droid tottered over to our table, inspiring more than a few dirty looks from the remaining patrons at the bar and even dirtier ones from me and Jorgan. “I was sent here to ascertain if you required any assistance.” “Elara sent you, didn’t she?” I scowled at the monstrosity, though I was more annoyed than mad. I’d told Elara that everything was fine but obviously she hadn’t believed me. Why wouldn’t she believe me though. You’ve had a few drinks, sure, but it’s not like you’re having any issues. “I said everything was under control, C2-N2. Go back to the ship, your thrice-damned bucket of bolts.” I hiccupped as I laughed at my own joke. “Sergeant Dorne informed me you might attempt such a response to my presence and assured me that I had her full support in maintaining proper decorum.” I spat out the beer in my mouth as it spoke. “We’re in a..a cantina for kark’s sake. What’s the harm in poor decorum here?” “You also failed to respond to several of Sergeant Dorne’s communications following the disconnection of your previous call.” Huh? I glanced down at my comm and noticed I’d missed several messages from Elara and a couple more from Cormac. Wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, but it was hardly the first time I’d had communication issues with something. Nothing another ale won’t take care of, anyway. Jorgan wasn’t looking very good after that round, though, and looked even worse the round after it. He slumped down onto the table, and looked unable to get up. It also sounded like he was humming what sounded suspiciously like something from Kitty Lovin and the Playmates. I wasn’t usually one to judge, but I decided to file it away for later use. Assuming you even remember it I turned back to my one remaining companion, perhaps the last one I could have ever expected to be spending time with at a cantina. Something made me want to talk to it, though. Maybe it was Jorgan’s humming, maybe it was the alcohol flowing freely through me, or maybe I just knew the droid would be the one to talk to, but it didn’t really matter. Now was the time. “Tell me, droid, what do you think of Elara?” “I am not sure that is an appropriate question to ask me, Master. I loyally serve each and every member of Havoc Squad.” I tried to narrow my eyes at the droid, but that just made my head hurt, so I moved on. “Have you ever wanted to say something, C2? Something important?” I gazed into its metallic eyes, but got no response. “Like it’s important, but since it’s important you don’t want to say something because if you say it wrong it will be horrible, so you don’t say anything at all? Because you need to say it to someone that’s important to you and it’s important to you that they know they’re important to you and what you’re saying to them is important too?” “I-I am sorry, master, I-“ Realizing that C2-N2 was not designed for such weighty thoughts, I waved away the droid’s comments. “Never mind that, you wouldn’t understand.” “But master, -“ “It’s Sergeant Dorne, C2. Elara, I mean. Pretty name like that should be said, not hidden behind a title.” I took another sip of ale. “I think she’s great. Really great, really. She’s got a great smile, she’s always there for you when you need her, rock solid, strong sense of ethics, one of the best soldiers I’ve ever met. Probably one of the best people I’ve ever met.” “Sergeant Dorne is quite agreeable –“ “That’s not all though,” I continued. “Great body, good hygiene, excellent grammar and a great smile. Total package.” I let out a sharp, appreciative whistle. “Perhaps you should return to the ship, Mast-“ “Too bad I’m afraid to tell her, right?” I arched an eyebrow at the robot, which was proving to be a rather poor listener and conversational partner. “Always too afraid, about her….about everything.” I sloshed some more ale around in my mouth as I pondered how best to continue. “I was the big brother of the family, had to be the dad too a bit after…after Dad didn’t come home. Got used to being responsible for people, got used to thinking I was good at it, too.” “You have been a most excellent commander of –“ I leaned forward, hunched over the table. “Then I ran off to the academy. Left them all behind, left them all to die.” My mouth was suddenly filled with an acrid bitterness no amount of ale would wash away. “I let them all down, every one of them. Been disappointing people all my life, even karking Uncle Demetrius back on Kuat. Damned lucky I haven’t screwed over Havoc Squad so far.” “Master, I –“ “I mean, I’m doing better now. I know better, I know I can do better too. But it doesn’t mean I ain’t scared. What if something happened to her, you know?” I took a gulp from Jorgan’s mug; wasn’t like he was going to miss it. “Bad enough if she isn’t interested, but what if she is and I let her down, too. Don’t know if I could take it.” “If I might – “ “I wish I could, though. I mean, stars, when she looks at me and her eyes are shining and bright and full of life…and her smile could blind me if I wasn’t more careful. Maker save me.” I decided to take two swigs this time. “I think she’d like me, though. I mean I like me. Do you like me?” The droid eyed me, but said nothing. “Well, I’m sure you do. You’re programmed to, at least.” I playfully slapped C2 on its back, but it remained silent. “I mean I’m a nice guy, most of the time and except for Jorgan. And Pallos Organa. And a few other guys, I guess, but mainly I’m nice. And I’m a good soldier, got most of my teeth, plus I’m funny. I think Elara would like a funny guy, and I’m pretty funny. My mom always laughed at all of my jokes, so I must have been doing something right. Maybe that’s a sign. Maybe I should say something.” I felt the adrenaline kicking back in, so I decided to make my move. Ignoring C2-N2’s protests, pushed myself up and away from the table and began to walk toward the door. Everything seemed a little blurry, but I figured I could make it back to the ship okay anyway. For a second, I wondered how Jorgan was going to make his own trip back, but I figured C2 could figure it out. That’s what protocol droids were around for, after all. I’d struggled forward for a good five minutes and managed several feet of progress when I felt the ground below me shaking. Confused, I checked the people around me, but had a hard time doing so when the room was shaking and spinning. Alderaan wasn’t supposed to have groundquakes… My head was pounding when I woke up and came to my senses. I felt nauseous as hell, but also a hell of a lot better than I had when my face had had a close encounter with the cantina floor. I blinked a few times and took a couple of deep breaths. It was only after that I realized that I wasn’t alone in the room, and a few seconds after that realized that I figured out where I actually was, and who was with me. “Elara. Um, Sergeant Dorne. I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.” I grimaced as I rolled onto my side and then forced myself into a sitting position. “I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand like that.” “I would hope not, Sir.” She had that damnable mixture of amusement and concern in her voice again. “It would require a great deal of paperwork and bureaucratic wrangling if you were to be responsible for an incident while intoxicated.” “And we wouldn’t want that,” I shot back teasingly. “I would agree completely, Sir.” she replied with a small smile. “If I might ask, how much alcohol did you consume last night? Both Captain Cormac and Sergeant Jorgan were found severely intoxicated and yet you were apparently able to keep going.” “Uh, too much, I guess. Ow!” I cried out as she jabbed my arm with a needle. When she offered no sympathy, I glowered at her. Elara wrinkled her nose at me. “If you stopped acting like a baby, perhaps things wouldn’t be so difficult.” Our eyes met, and for a moment I sensed a hint of fear in hers. She probably saw the same in mine. “Sir. Quite so difficult, Sir.” Her cheeks flushed a bright red as she hurried away to mess around with some of her equipment on the far side of the room. “Uh, I’m sorry for any trouble I caused. And the missed messages. And any projectile vomiting that may have occurred, of course.” I grimaced at the last one. She glanced back over in my direction, and I couldn’t help but notice how startlingly beautiful she was. It left me tongue-tied, which was just as well, since I’d have probably said something stupid. “I was simply concerned for your well-being, Ayrs. Sir.” She quickly turned back toward her tools. I suddenly felt way out of my depth in a way I hadn’t for…a long time, years at least. I carefully slipped off the bed and winced as my bare feet landed on the cold floor of the med bay. “Uh, Elara, I...” She turned back to me with her eyes open and almost expectant. You what? “Master, you have a priority message from –“ The karking protocol droid made it that far before realizing he was interrupting. “From General Garza. She requests you reply when you are fully recovered.” Kark me. The droid was gone as quickly as it had arrived. So was the moment. “I’m sorry if I made you worry, El-Sergeant. I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again, and I’ll be sure Jorgan understands too.” The room was feeling a bit warmer, which I took as my cue to leave. Garza was waiting, anyway. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to your work. Just want you to know how much I appreciate you.” The room was now blazing hot. “How much I appreciate what you do for the squad. Carry on, Dorne.” She seemed about to say something as I turned and left. Probably for the best that she didn’t – I was already going to have enough problems dealing with Garza. Maker save me.

I contacted Zash from my cabin after we returned to the ship; it had been bad enough when I had Khem looking over my shoulder, and I had no interest in hearing any sort of commentary from Andronikos Revel. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, I wondered what I had been thinking when I allowed the pirate to come aboard. Perhaps I had not been thinking at all; it would not have been the first or last time for that, either. A small smile crossed my lips, until I killed it by remembering that there was nothing particularly happy about my lot in life. Strangely, Zash seemed to be in good spirits as well. Not that I should be complaining – there were few things in the galaxy more unpleasant than a Sith in a bad mood. Her smile broadened as my picture came into focus on her end, a toothy grin that reminded me more of a predator advancing on prey out in the wild than a person. “Apprentice! I was so happy to hear of your success on Tatooine. I hear you were even able to assist the local garrison with an unpleasant military situation.” She clasped her hands together. “Yes, I was busy winning the hearts and minds of Imperials across that sand-covered wasteland. Rest assured, if you ever find yourself on Tatooine, you will find your name will open many doors.” “Oh, how wonderful.” I did not appreciate her effort to be even more sarcastic than I was. “I look forward to the day I am greeted by hordes of admirers in the streets of Mos Ila.” I managed to avoid rolling my eyes too conspicuously, but the conversation was already becoming rather tiresome. “Did you have information about the artifact on Alderaan?” I raised an eyebrow at her in lieu of calling her Master, a practice which I found distasteful in so many ways. “I have made inroads, yes. Unfortunately, it appears this particular artifact may have fallen into the hands of Republic-aligned forces on the planet.” She paused to take a breath. “Fortunately, I have an old acquaintance on the planet that should be able to assist you in your efforts to reclaim the artifact. Tell me, how much do you know about Alderaan, apprentice?” More than I would ever admit to you. My grandmother had been intended for an Alderaanian nobleman, once, a member of House Organa. My siblings had never cared too much about that episode – save for Ayrs, when he had another of his jokes to tell – but it had always fascinated me. So much of our lives depended on individual decisions, where even the slightest of alterations might unravel the entire thread. I had often wondered what my life would have been like had things been otherwise…of course, that was all too common a hobby for me now. “I know a little – it is a Core world with historically strong ties to the Republic. I believe that it recently seceded, though.” I knew all of this for a fact, of course, but I did not know if it would be wise to reveal that I kept abreast of politics to Zash. It was a delicate balance – appear too ignorant, and I would lose my position and any chance at meting out the justice so many in the Empire richly deserved, but appear too intelligent and I would be too obvious of a threat. Assuming Zash operates along those lines, of course. Even after all this time, I still had far too little understanding of what made my ‘master’ tick. She wanted power and influence, like any Sith, but there was something more to her than the base desires of a normal Dark Side Force user. Khem had mentioned as much before as well – Zash was after something more than titles and power, it was only a matter of what and how. And here I am running around the galaxy running her errands and assisting with whatever she is doing. I regretted not doing more to try to discover the truth, as Khem had suggested – any surprise Zash had planned would almost have to be unpleasant for me. “Yes, the politics of the planet are quite intriguing,” she was saying. “Fortunately, the intricacies of Alderaanian politics also presents us with a glorious opportunity. I believe that House Organa is hiding the artifact somewhere in one of their vaults. Naturally, that suggests we approach their rivals – House Thul – and secure assistance.” “I assume this is where you tell me that your third cousin ten times removed is the former roommate of the head of House Thul’s daughter’s friend’s cousin?” I was not in the mood for more games, not when my entire life was a game to her. “Something like that.” Zash was smiling, but the expression was a mask for something else – anger, annoyance, I was not entirely sure, but there was more than a hint of menace to it. “I have made contact with Elana Thul, a noblewoman in that house. She has agreed to provide assistance in exchange for you assisting her house with their war against House Organa.” “And if I do not deign to assist them with their petty war?” I had little interest in attacking or harming a house affiliated with the Republic. “Apprentice, you are so amusing. I will leave the specifics in your hands – you have proven more than capable. That being said, I would ask you to remember that House Thul has proven to be a valuable asset to the Empire’s interests on Alderaan.” An asset – not an ally. I wondered if that was an intentional slip from Zash or an unintentional revelation of how the Empire truly viewed House Thul. Perhaps it was both – I doubted that Zash cared all that much about Elana Thul, and it would hardly be the first time that the Empire had expressed less than total care for those fighting for it or on its behalf. Either way, I resolved myself to dealing with the Thuls as coldly as I could. As it should be. “I will do so,” I heard myself say out loud – it would be regrettable to show my hand to Zash if I was wrong about her choice of words. “Is there anything else I should be aware of?” “Do try to keep the Force pyrotechnics to a minimum. Our role in the Alderaanian civil war is currently unofficial at best, and it would be best if your presence went unnoticed for as long as possible.” I snickered slightly as I nodded in understanding and terminated the link. My experiences had demonstrated that Sith activities were rarely the kind to go unnoticed, and I could not imagine a scenario where reclaiming an artifact from a hostile noble house would be any different. Then again, it cost me nothing to give Zash off-the-cuff reassurance. If things went sour, it was not as if she could realistically hold it against me. Of course, the Sith don’t particularly care about what’s logical or ‘realistic’. Small comfort, then. I slipped away from the holoterminal before Khem could get into range, and beat a hasty retreat to the cockpit. It was not that I preferred Revel to Khem, but he was at least circumspect enough to not question me about details and information he did not need to know. In addition, I had found another use for him. He tilted his head from the pilot’s seat as he heard me approach. “Sith, what can I do for you?” You can start by calling me by my name. Only, I did not want him to do so, not really. I did not want him to begin seeing himself as a part of my life or as having the potential to be anything more than an inconvenient business partner. Not to mention his shady underworld contacts could no doubt do all sorts of damage with even a first name. “I was reviewing our mission parameters on Alderaan and I believe I have found an opportunity for you to prove your worth as a member of this crew beyond piloting the ship.” “Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave what he must have thought was a charming smile. It was anything but. “My task is to retrieve another artifact for Zash., as you might have expected. Unfortunately, it looks like this will require certain…skills…that I do not believe are in your repertoire.’ Revel gave me a look of wounded pride, though I did not need the Force to see right through it. He said nothing, though. “It occurred to me that you might be able to assist me in a different way, though.” “I’m listening.” Revel had swiveled the seat to face me and was reclining with arms folded across his chest. “I assume you have retained at least a few contacts on Alderaan. Black market contacts, I mean, scoundrels and never-do-wells like yourself.” Revel eyed me carefully but did not reply. “I want you to reach out to them and see if you can establish a business relationship with any of them. Nothing overly formal or extensive, but I feel I can trust your judgment in that area.” “A business relationship?” The pirate looked as if he was unsure whether to be amused or baffled by my instruction. “What kind of Sith are you?” “An odd one.” We shared a smile, which only made me even more uncomfortable, so I attempted to steer the conversation back on course. “Essentially my problem is this – I am entirely too reliant upon Zash and her resources for everything I do – nothing gets done without her being aware of at least some aspect of it. That needs to change.” “Little Sith is growing up and looking to leave the nest? How charming, heh.” I squelched the sudden impulse to strangle the man. “Indeed. There are other words I could use to describe it, but I would also label it prudent.” I paused to gauge his reaction. His face gave nothing away, but he seemed content with the plan when I reached out with the Force. “I believe you can establish the connections we need to secure alternative methods of financing. Should Zash prove to be as untrustworthy as any other Sith, it would be rather unfortunate if I was cut off entirely from my funding.” “Some of my contacts are going to be Republic side. That going to be an issue?” I got the distinct impression he was interested in my response more because of what it would say about me and less because of how it would affect his activities. “That won’t be a problem unless you get yourself arrested by Republic authorities, in which case you are on your own.” I considered that for a moment, then pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You are to avoid causing any incidents.” “Yes, mother. Heh. Not like I want to risk hurting future business.” I suddenly felt like I was talking to a child, despite the fact that he was at least a decade older than I was. For a moment, I contemplated asking him exactly how old he was. After consideration I realized that that idea ran the risk of having him take the question as an invitation for further conversation, and conversing with Andronikos Revel ranked somewhere near the bottom of the list of things I wanted to do in the near future. Or ever. “I’ll consider that a promise, then, Revel. In exchange for your service, I will include you in any profits we make. Say, 30% of any profits, less operating expenses.” The pirate twisted his tattooed face into a grimace. “Let’s not play games, Sith. I deserve more than that.” “Forty percent, then, and a share of any loot we acquire during our rousing adventures.” I stretched out a hand, which he gripped firmly and shook. “It’s a deal, Sith. I-” “Oh!” He frowned at my interruption. “Anything I deem necessary for my studies of the Force will always be mine.” “We had a deal,” Revel retorted. “I am altering our deal,” I shot back, favoring him with a look that would freeze the blood of any but the bravest of people. “Pray I do not alter it any further.” “Sure.” He put his hands out in front of himself, protesting his innocence. “Whatever you say, Sith.” “I say you should pilot us the rest of the way to Alderaan and keep any other opinions you might have to yourself. Or tell Khem Val,” Revel tossed me a jaunty salute as I left, angering me further. I hoped I had not made a mistake in allowing him on board – my psychological strength was not what I would have wanted it to be. Every night found myself confronted by the dark whispers and every day was greeted by even darker urges. I had thought I could easily control the darkness bound to be unleashed by training and working with the Sith. I…I was wrong. I would have to try harder, work harder, do better. The rest of the flight was pleasantly uneventful, so I was able to meditate on my circumstances the entire time. Revel had managed to work out some kind of arrangement with customs, allowing us to land directly at House Thul – a minor, but quite welcome, convenience. Khem and I disembarked first, drawing more than a few stares. For once, I was unsure whether they were directed at Khem or me; while a Dashade was quite the sight for anyone, the foolish nobles of Alderaan were also the type to be taken aback by a young woman wearing decidedly unfashionable black robes and wielding a lightsaber. After pushing our way past a few Thul lackeys that wanted our attention – no doubt to assist them with their war against House Organa – we arrived at the main building of the palace. Opulent to the extreme, the palace exemplified why so many viewed nobility with such disdain – the credits that had been spent on its construction and maintenance could have fed and housed thousands of poor, but was instead wasted on sculptures imported from off-world and other nonsense. Even Khem seemed put off by the extravagance. Rather – more put off than usual. Elana Thul was waiting for us in one of the first entry halls, escorted by a tall hulk of a man with the telltale eyes of a Sith. Whether he was on loan to House Thul or the noblewoman’s personal lap dog was unclear, but it was an unwelcome complication. For her part, the Thul representative was a petite woman with sharp facial features and an irritating voice that echoed across the chamber as she spoke. “My lady, greetings!” She gave me a half-bow which I chose to ignore, causing her to step back, flustered. “I – I spoke with Darth Zash prior to your arrival and she informed me of your mission here on Alderaan. I will assist you to the best of my ability, of course.” I stared at her through narrow eyes, trying to decide how best to approach our conversation. I had no use for Elana Thul or her house, but she was still my most useful source of information and assistance. Given that, I decided it would be unwise to alienate her unnecessarily, even if I found her Sith pet distasteful. “I’m glad to hear it, Lady Elana. Have you any information regarding the artifact that I am after? Darth Zash suggested that it was under the control of your enemies in House Organa.” Thul nodded. “Indeed. But, first, let me introduce you to Urtel Moren.” She gestured toward the behemoth next to her. “He is a fellow Sith, serving House Thul and its interests.” “How intriguing.” I gave the Sith another look, then returned my gaze to Thul – though Moren might prove to be an obstacle regardless of what I did, showing interest would only increase the likelihood, by my calculations. Better to be rude and avoid further dealings with him than risk having a new ‘friend’ to deal with. “What can you tell me about the artifact?” “I, uh-.” She stammered for a moment, then recovered. “I was unable to locate much information, but I was able to pinpoint its location – the Elysium, a storehouse for many of our houses’ greatest treasures.” Thul bit her lip before continuing. “Unfortunately, there are significant security systems in place, and even if you were able to circumvent those, you would need the appropriate key for the vault…and that key is in the hands of a Jedi Master.” Damn. “Which one?” Thul sighed softly. “Nomar Organa – a proud and virtuous Jedi that left his noble house behind to serve the galaxy.” I noted that the woman spoke those words with barely-contained contempt behind them, where most people would have had admiration. “He is off-world, and I do not know how we might ‘convince’ him to return to Alderaan.” I pondered that for a moment – I needed that key, but I did not need trouble with the Jedi Order. I don’t want any trouble with them, either. They were my father’s family before we were. It seemed that conflict might not be something that I could avoid, though, and I found that prospect…troubling. “A thought.” It was Moren this time. His voice was strangely pleasant, particularly for a Sith. “House Alde is responsible for maintaining the records for every house on Alderaan. Perhaps there is something within their archives that we can use against Nomar Organa to force his hand. Some secret or relationship.” Thul furrowed her brow. “It is possible. House Alde is a staunch ally of House Organa, though, so you would almost certainly find yourself fighting your way to their archives.” “Perhaps.” I gave Thul and her pet a crafty smile. “On the other hand, I have proven to be quite persuasive before. Perhaps I can speak to the members of House Alde and…convince…them not to take up arms against me.” Khem growled softly, but I quieted him with a sharp hand gesture. “As you say, my lady.” Moren bowed politely at me, further irritating me. “If I might have a word in private?” Elana Thul was already leaving, but Khem was still available to avoid the Sith. After studying the man more closely, though, I decided it would be better to deal with him now, rather than run the risk of him interfering later on. “Yes. Urkel, was it?” “Urtel, my lady.” I felt somewhat guilty when his voice remained perfectly calm even after my provocation. “I merely wished to express my satisfaction in being allowed the chance to work with a Sith of your caliber.” “Oh?” I hadn’t been aware I had any caliber. “You were the one responsible for killing Darth Skotia, yes?” For a moment, Urtel Moren almost reminded of my younger sister eagerly pestering me for another story or details of the day’s events with my friends. “That was quite an achievement.” “I try to remain modest.” I shrugged slightly, radiating an aura of cool disinterest. “Given the homicidal nature of so many Sith, I find it best to maintain a low profile and avoid making myself a target. I trust I am not a target to you.” I eyed him closely, but he did not flinch. “Not in that way, my lady.” I narrowed my eyes as a slight blush grew on his cheeks. “I-I merely meant I find you intriguing. Your career, that is.” Somehow, I could not find anything good in having a Sith admirer, so I decided to beat a hasty retreat instead. “I should go, Urtel. I still have to determine how best to deal with House Alde.” I glanced behind me and saw Khem staring at us with his mouth open. I still could not read him well enough to tell if he was amused or disgusted – or, perhaps, both – but I could sense the potential for trouble. “And deal with Khem, naturally.” “Of course.” Moren bowed his head again. I did not wait for him to say anything else, so I returned to Khem’s side, giving him a side-eye glance to forestall any commentary. “It seems I have a fan among the Sith. You best prove yourself to me again, Khem, or I might have to replace you.” The Dashade gaped at me in silence for some time before speaking. <That is a joke, Little Sith?> “I’ll let you puzzle that one out.” I sighed softly, wondering if the Force had decided to torment me today, and began heading for the entrance. I was still concerned about how to deal with House Alde – I was not interested in massacring anyone, let alone for something as mundane as gossip about one Nomar Organa. I was still mulling things over as we secured a speeder and began our trip to the northeast, where House Alde’s holdings were. Elana Thul had helpfully provided the latest scouting reports on Alde’s forces to help us avoid running into patrols, but that also reduced the amount of time I had to plan. Clearly, any nonviolent solution would require leaving Khem behind – somehow I doubted the Alde forces would be too pleased having a Sith monster roaming around their lands. Beyond that, though, I felt helpless – the only thing of value I could part with was the book on Sith history I kept with me, and I doubted that would be enough to convince anyone of my good intentions. Well, not good intentions, per se. My non-hostile ones. Still, the book was as good a place as any to start, assuming the guards at House Alde did not choose to simply blow us up on approach. As we neared the main entrance to the Alde compound, I turned to Khem to alert him to my plan. “I do not wish for this to end in a bloodbath, so you will have to remain with the speeder, Khem.” I pre-emptively silenced his complaints with a sharp look. “I realize that you would like nothing more than to tear through dozens of helpless soldiers, but I have neither the time nor the inclination for such an encounter. I am after information, and it will be easier to obtain if we avoid starting a major battle.” <Very well, Little Sith, but if you continue to deny me battle, I cannot say I will always be so willing in the future.> I was silent for a moment, mostly because I had not anticipated such an easy resolution to the situation – Khem routinely expressed great frustration when denied the chance to slaughter people, and this seemed like yet another of those times. Still, after a day of somewhat trying situations and conversations, I was not particularly interested in creating more trouble for myself. Instead, I remained silent and piloted the speeder up to the central guard post, where we were stopped by a middle-aged man wearing a captain’s uniform and a completely absurd hat. “Halt, in the name of House Alde!” “We’re halted,” I noted as the speeder came to a full stop. “I need access to your libraries.” The man seemed taken aback by my frankness and casual bearing. “B-but you are a Sith! You are with the Thuls!” I smiled sweetly at him. “Let’s consider the Sith thing an alliance of convenience. And I am most certainly not working with or for the Thuls.” “Then why are you here?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I have personal business that requires some research. I am not looking for trouble, despite what the frightening face of my companion would suggest. Al I seek is some time in your archives, and in exchange I will donate this book I appropriated from Korriban.” I reached into my robes and removed the tome, displaying it for the captain’s benefit. “You wish to patronize our library?” His eyes were bugging out now, stage two of the normal reaction to reasonable requests coming from a Sith. “You are quite the odd creature.” “I get that quite often. Unfortunately, though, I do not have time to banter about this. If you could please extend my offer to the curator, or whoever is in charge, I would appreciate it.” And if this does not work, I will be forced to kill you. I For the first time in what felt like forever, I found myself praying to the Maker, hoping it would not come to that. It didn’t. The captain returned from calling his superiors within minutes, and they had agreed to my proposal as long as Khem remained off of their lands and I was monitored to ensure I did not sabotage the archives. Both conditions were reasonable and hardly unexpected, so I found myself traveling into the Alde compound with a handsome soldier as an escort mere minutes later. As we drew closer to our destination, I wondered if I should ask whether they had agreed out of principle or because they feared a massacre, but I was not sure I wanted to know the answer to that question. The archives were rather impressive, with each section dwarfing all of the libraries on Ithaca put together. There were many ancient books, electronic records, holos; a virtual smorgasbord of resources for learning and intellectual development. Somewhat disappointing, then, that I was here to dredge up gossip and dirt about Nomar Organa. My search proved to be quite difficult – there were numerous restrictions on my access, and much of the information on Organa was heavily sanitized due to his position within the Jedi Order. What scraps of information I could find were useless – virtually a list of talking points one would expect a politician to read from during a speech. I spent hours within the Alde system, but could find nothing – I was nearing my breaking point when I happened across an old looking still picture of a young Nomar Organa holding hands with a woman. They were both smiling and seemed happy. I wondered how it had gone wrong. The same way everything went wrong for you, no doubt. The galaxy does as the galaxy will. I decided to inspect the still and its related files more closely – perhaps this woman could lead me to something that would entice Nomar Organa to return to Alderaan. Several layers into my search, I found something – an old and short story about the impending nuptials of one Nomar Organa and a Rehanna Rist. I did a separate search for Rist and found myself looking at the older copy of the woman from the still. A simple query revealed that Rehanna Rist was still alive and living on the planet. So Nomar Organa was betrothed to Rehanna Rist, and something made it all go wrong. Interesting. There was no other information available, but it was a start. House Rist was not aligned with House Thul, but neither was it allied to the Organas, so it was possible that I would be able to speak with Rehanna Rist and determine if there was something I could use. I suspected there was, but something in my heart recognized it would end badly for someone. Or everyone, possibly. There was not much I could do about it now, though. I retreated from the console I was working at and returned to my escort, who had been quietly suffering through hours of watching me do research. To make up for his misfortunate, I gave him a salacious wink, which threw him off balance and nearly caused him to fall down. To cover for himself, he huffed loudly and stood up even straighter as he caught up to and then passed me, leading the way back to the vehicle that had brought us in. As we left the building, I glanced at my comm and saw that I had two messages. The first, heavily encoded to anyone but me, made me smile. Quorian. The second...I had to check a second and then a third time to be sure I was not reading it wrong. When I realized I had seen the name correctly the first time, I felt a cold chill pass through me – there were few people in the galaxy I wanted dead more than Harrion Vular, the man that had taken me to Korriban and started me down the treacherous path I now found myself on. No matter, you will deal with him. Perhaps I could ensure he never left Alderaan, ensure he never ruined another life. I smiled slightly. Something more enjoyable to plan, for once.

Huh? You get Elara early on (second planet after the starter planet), and she's usable once you finish your class quests on Taris. I might try Treek out on my next Knight, but generally I prefer/recommend the class companions because of what they add to the story. Unless you're having a ton of issues surviving/leveling, I guess.

The ops officer had Garza and the duke already on display as I entered the command center, neither one looking all that happy. The foolishly optimistic part of me hoped that their ire might be directed at someone other than me, but that was the kind of prayer that would have gotten me laughed out of Temple as a kid. Not that it mattered much, anyway. I’d known that working with someone like Markus Thul might be problematic from the start – what good was it to wring my hands over the consequences now? The man deserved to be tried for his actions, but he did not deserve to be beaten and humiliated while his family was forced to watch and was threatened as well. I faced Garza’s hologram and came to a full stop, drawing myself up and snapping to attention. “Lieutenant Ayrs Martell, reporting in per orders, Sir.” Normally I wasn’t much for following protocol so strictly, but it was good for catching my breath. “Yes, Lieutenant, we have a good deal to talk about.” Her brow furrowed slightly, but I didn’t see her trademark frown – possibly a good sign, but not one I wanted to put too much stock into just yet. “The duke was just filling me in on his understanding of the events that took place this afternoon and evening.” I swiveled slightly and gave the duke a small nod of respect. It looked like most of his wounds – largely superficial to begin with – had healed, but he shared Garza’s troubled expression. “I’m glad to see you in one piece, Duke Organa. You had us worried there for a moment or two.” Organa surprised me with a rakish smile. “It seems I had little to worry about with you and your squad here to support us. Would that I could say the same for my own soldiers.” Huh? “Agreed,” Garza was saying. “It’s not entirely surprising that there would be problems with any kind of deal made with a Thul prisoner, let alone one accused of attempted assassination, though.” I felt like they were speaking gibberish – hadn’t they called this meeting so they could berate me for my actions and try to salvage what was left of the Republic-Organa relationship? “True.” The duke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That doesn’t make what happened any more palatable.” He paused and looked in my direction, as if suddenly remembering I was there. “Perhaps we should hear the lieutenant’s report first, though.” “Yes, I agree.” Garza peered down her nose at me. “Understood, Sir.” I straightened up again. “At approximately 1530 local time, we completed our planned op to disable the power generator Markus Thul had identified as being responsible for powering Gearbox’s operation for the Imperials. During the return trip, both Havoc and the auxiliary forces provided by House Organa…sorry, by Pallos Organa...were informed of a developing situation with the duke.” I nodded in the man’s direction. “We redirected to assist Organa forces in rescuing the duke, but…” “Pallos’ forces returned to the palace instead,” Organa finished. “ “Yes, exactly.” I swallowed hard, hoping the gulping of saliva wasn’t as loud as it sounded to me. “After we rescued the duke from Thul custody, I had our transport return us to the palace. When we landed, I received an interrupted distress call from Valyn Thul, the daughter of Markus Thul; that report was corroborated by Captain Cormac from the security forces. Upon arriving at the scene, I determined that the Organa forces reporting to Pallos Organa were in the middle of attacking Markus Thul and intimidating his family. Per the Treaty of Onderon, I had Captain Cormac detain them and removed the Thuls from the palace grounds for their own safety.” “I see.” Garza’s voice was such that I could not tell what she was thinking. “In my opinion, Lieutenant Martell acted well within his rights, both as a Republic soldier and a Special Forces squad commander. I deeply regret the actions of both Pallos and his mean, and I intend to see them punished appropriately.” “You do?” I grimaced as I realized I'd spoken the question instead of just thinking it, a mistake that led to a sharp look from Garza. “I appreciate all of your efforts, Duke Organa. In the meantime, I will coordinate with Lieutenant Martell to ensure the situation is defused as quickly and harmlessly as is possible. Rest assured, I do not wish to see the Organa-Republic relationship damaged in any way.” I’d never heard the general speak so…politically…before. “Is there anything either of us can do in addition to that?” “No, no.” The duke shook his head vigorously. “I suggest we reassess the situation tomorrow sometimes.” “Agreed. Good night, gentlemen.” Garza nodded sharply in my direction, so I snapped off another salute and waited for their holograms to disappear. Only, it was just the due that went away, and I suddenly found myself staring at a now-furious Garza. “Sir?” “Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you’ve caused, Lieutenant Martell? The kind of **** you’ve stepped into?” Her face was alarmingly red for a blue and white holo. “I thought I made myself clear about the importance of the relationship between House Organa and the Republic, but apparently you decided to ignore it completely.” “No Sir.” I knew I needed to tread carefully, but damned if I was going to roll over without a fight. “I brought the plan of using Markus Thul’s intelligence to you, and you agreed that that idea had merit. Any actions I undertook tonight were merely in furtherance of that agreed-upon course of action.” “You threatened a key member of House Organa! You also alienated several key units of Organa commandos, which are now no longer available for joint operations, at least for the time being.” I grimaced at that – I didn’t give a **** about Pallos Organa, but his house’s soldiers were good at their job, and their absence would likely be noticed sooner rather than later. I only hoped that it would not prove fatal. “I didn’t realize that, Sir.” “Of course you didn’t.” Garza planted her hands balled up and at her hips. “I thought I made it clear that military objectives are of paramount importance when making command decisions. In fact, I believe I’ve made that clear on several occasions.” “You have, Sir. And, if I am not mistaken, I believe I replied that I would be unwilling to ignore moral and ethical imperatives to do so, each time. If the Organas are so sensitive about having their nose rubbed in their mess, then maybe they should reconsider getting into the whole prisoner and civilian abuse game. Maker knows that the Empire does enough work there.” She was giving me the kind of look that Ris or Ariel or – Maker save me- Mom would have when I did something wrong. “If you are uncomfortable with that being the case going forward, I have previously offered to be reassigned and will continue to do so. I am who I am. I can’t be anyone else. Sir.” Some part of me flashed back to the blown up building on Nar Shaddaa, but I pushed that thought aside. “You do remind me so much of your mother sometimes,” Garza mused, her voice suddenly sad even as her lips formed a small smile. “You certainly cause a lot more trouble than she ever did, though.” I coughed nervously and hoped there wasn’t a blush creeping across my suddenly red-hot face. “Very well. I will work with Duke Organa to rectify the…consequences of your decisions. In the meantime, I trust you have news to report on Gearbox?” “Yes, Sir.” I nodded, more relieved than anything else. “After blowing the power facility, we traced the energy signature of his bunker to the mountains east of the royal palace, which is currently being occupied by Bouris Ulgo, if the Organas’ intelligence is correct. I was going to launch a quick strike against Gearbox after our initial mission, but things got hairy with the Duke and we lost our window of opportunity. I’m currently re-evaluating the situation, as I have to assume Gearbox has either reinforced his position or is in the process of doing so.” “Agreed.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I believe I can get you additional troops – Captain Cormac has proven reliable, and I believe there are some additional resources on the planet I can speak to. Have your squad get a good night’s sleep, Lieutenant. I will contact you in seven hours time.” I glanced down at my chronometer to gauge when that would be, then nodded. “Understood, Sir. We’ll be ready.” She nodded in return, then signed off too quickly for me to salute. Then again, Garza had never struck me as the kind of officer that gave much of a damn about formalities like that. Worked fine for me, since I didn’t give a damn either. I retraced my steps out of the command center and turn toward the med center. Inside, I found Elara quietly reading a data pad while sneaking peeks at the Thuls every few moments. For a second or two, I thought about surprising her from behind, but I realized that would probably end with her breaking my nose. Or stabbing me with one of those needles. I shuddered as I peered at the syringes. “El-Sergeant Dorne.” I corrected myself mid-sentence as I noticed the Thuls glancing over in my direction. “Just spoke with General Garza, and we’ll be briefed in seven hours or so. Best get some rack time so we’re all ready to go.” She nodded briskly, and I took the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat over to where I’d left Jorgan – I figured the key to avoiding putting my foot in my mouth was to limit my opportunities to do so. The Cathar was right where I expected, though he wore a strangely pensive look on his face as he looked into the night sky. The stars were alive, though some were the drives of various ships coming and going on their various missions and routines. “Finished talking to General Garza,” I interrupted mildly. “Don’t want to break up your séance, but our briefing’s in a little less than seven hours, so you’ll probably want to grab some sleep.” “On it, sir.” As I started to turn to leave, he spoke up again. “Ever wonder about where you’re headed, Lieutenant?” “Ayrs.” I waved away the formality. “What do you mean?” Jorgan gestured at the sky above us. “My people have suffered greatly over the years, and sometimes I wonder if they have a place in the Republic. If I do, even.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, not quite sure how serious his concern was. “The Cathar always have a place in the Republic, Jorgan. That’s what makes the Republic what it is, and what makes the Empire what it isn’t. And as for you…” I let my voice trail off ominously to screw with him. “Don’t care if you’re a Cathar or a Bothan or even a Hutt. If you fight well and you don’t violate the principles we’re fighting for, I don’t give a damn about who or what you are.” He grunted. “Hell, look at our squad. Perpetual ****up Ayrs Martell, boldly commanding the ever-proper Imperial defector, the perpetually grouchy Cathar and the overly patriotic war droid. If that isn’t proof of Republic inclusiveness, I don’t know what is.” “True enough.” I heard Jorgan chuckle slightly at the mental image his mind must have conjured up. “I’ll go find a bunk somewhere. See you in the morning, sir.” I took a moment to take in the night sky myself. It wasn’t the same as it’d been back on Ithaca…with Ariel…but the twinkling stars reminded me of a time where it didn’t feel like I had a ten ton weight on my chest and when family meant something more than a painful memory. The moment passed. What was done was done, and there were too many people out there counting on me to dwell on the past. Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I found a spare bunk in the command center and drifted off to pleasantly uneventful sleep. I woke up six hours later, leaving me my usual window to get ready. It was a stupid habit that my friends had always made fun of back home, but I liked to be a step ahead when I could – it made me feel like I was a leg up on whatever was about to come. The water in the fresher was cold as hell, but it did the job of waking me up real fast. Will save the mess hall some of its caf supply, at least. As I exited the room, I nearly ran directly into Elara, who was already armored up and ready to go, sans the helmet she cradled under her left arm. “El-Sergeant. Uh, good morning. Wasn’t expecting you to be up already.” She gave me a curious look, and something flashed in her eyes. “I discovered your habit of getting up earlier than necessary, Sir, and felt it was a good idea. However, I felt that I could be even more efficient than you are.” I felt my mouth open and close, but nothing came out. “I will see you at the briefing, Sir.” I tried to ignore the gaping from a couple of the spaceport workers that had seen the limited exchanging. Was Elara developing a playful sense of humor? If so, I was in for even more trouble than I could ever have imagined. Breakfast was a lot like Jorgan – cold, bitter and hair all over – but it filled me up well enough for the day ahead. I pushed away from the table and, for what felt like the millionth time, walked toward the command center’s briefing room. In contrast to the scene from last night’s meeting, it felt surprisingly light and cheery in the room. I nodded my head in greeting to Captain Cormac and was just shifting my attention to the familiar brunette next to him when – “Ayrs! I mean, Lieutenant Martell.” Amitia swept me into a brief and – thanks to our armor – uncomfortable hug. Her eyes twinkled a bit as she spoke again. “If I’d known we’d have to help you out again, I’d have charged more for my help.” “If I’d known we needed Jedi help to get this mission done, I’d have found a safer line of work,” I replied weakly, before offering Kira a small smile. She didn’t reply immediately, instead rolling her eyes at her partner, before smiling in return. “You both know Sergeants Dorne and Jorgan from Taris. And this is…our wardroid, M1-4X. If you have any propaganda needs, Forex is the droid for you.” Amitia eyed the droid suspiciously, but Garza’s hologram suddenly appeared and killed off our repartee. “Lieutenant Martell, I’m glad to see everyone is assembled. I will be brief, as time is of the essence.” I nodded to indicate understanding. “The Jedi have their own business on Alderaan, but they have generously offered their services for the mission. They will provide direct support for your squad as it engages Gearbox and eliminates the threat he poses. Captain Cormac and his soldiers have been provided courtesy of Duke Organa, and will provide cover for the entire operation, intercepting any reinforcements before they can present a problem.” “Seems pretty simple.” Too simple. “Do we have any intel on what Gearbox might have in there, Sir?” “I’ll let Captain Cormac speak to that.” The burly man stepped forward, hands clasped in front of his stomach. “Our sources within House Thul report a garrison of approximately fifty Thul soldiers, plus a pair of medium APCs. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to give us much on what Gearbox might have as part of his personal force. Maybe we’ll get lucky in that regard. I frowned – as the saying went, an absence of evidence was not evidence of absence. Assuming that Gearbox wouldn’t have anything more up his sleeve was the kind of thinking that would get us all killed if and when he did have a surprise saved up. Then again, it’s easy to say that when you aren’t facing a mission that has to be completed. We have to stop whatever it is Gearbox has planned. “That’s not ideal, but we can make do, General. We’ll head out immediately.” “Good luck, Lieutenant.” We exchanged perfunctory salutes, and her image faded away. I turned to Cormac. “I am guessing I won’t like the answer, but how many troops did the duke send with you?” He grimaced. “Twelve. Good soldiers, though. We’ll do the job.” Thirteen Organa soldiers, the four of us and two Jedi against an entrenched force at least three times our size, which might also have one or more surprises waiting for us inside the actual facility. Terrific. Nothing to be done about it now, though – not when these were the kinds of missions that Havoc had been formed for. It wasn’t like I could ask another squad to go die in our place. “We lift off in ten, be sure you’re ready.” Everyone slowly filed out of the room, though I noticed that Jorgan made a point of waiting so he could follow the two Jedi out. I smiled slightly, since I didn’t imagine either of them as the fangs and fur type. That bounty hunter back on Nar Shaddaa, though… My smile grew into a fierce grin, and I felt better about the mission ahead because of it, stupid as that was. Once I was confident I was in the clear, I dropped to a knee and quickly recited a prayer to the Maker, one my mother had taught me about seeking aid before battle. It wasn’t something I was entirely comfortable with – my faith had never been as well-defined as hers had been – but it felt reassuring nonetheless. I repeated it for each of my squad members, and then for those that had joined us. In the end, it might not mean a damn thing, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt, either. Everyone was there waiting for me when I made my way to the departure area. We were using two Republic-issue hover-carriers, repainted to Organa’s colors. Two big Celestial-class ones, too. Cormac and his squad took one, while the two Jedi clambered on board ours. The ships were obviously built for larger deployments, but I wasn’t going to complain about having extra space, to say nothing of thicker armor and more robust defenses. The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon to the east – a good omen, if I’d been inclined to believe in those sorts of things, of course. If our timing was right, we’d hit the Thul forces right before they woke up, leaving them particularly vulnerable to a surprise attack. If not…well, I didn’t really want to have to worry about that. We had enough to deal with as it was. It was still mostly dark as we came into range of the area Gearbox was based out of. Scanners showed large concentrations of armed forces and machines throughout the valley as we approached, causing the pilots to nervously hover hands over the instruments that would allow them to begin evasive maneuvers. Maybe we were flying over friendlies, maybe they were enemies asleep on the job, or maybe we were just lucky, but we didn’t take even a single shot during the approach. Or maybe the Maker really is watching over you. A sobering thought, but not one that was appropriate for a combat situation. Cormac’s squad dropped first, surprising the lone Thul soldier on watch at our landing zone. The Organa forces fanned out in a standard formation, quickly sweeping the entire platform and ensuring it was clear of any further resistance. Amitia and Kira followed them, and then Forex and the rest of my squad. Once everyone was in position, I jumped down after them, landing with an unfortunate screech as my boots skidded for a moment on the pad. The specs for the place that Cormac had given us ended up being spot on, and we eliminated the small amount of organized resistance the Thuls put up in the external portion of the base. Things progressed smoothly until we encountered a squad of defenders hunched behind an overturned table they were using as a barricade, flanked on either side by one of their anti-personnel turrets. They pinned us down for a couple of minutes, but then one of Cormac’s people tossed a jury-rigged EMP into their midst. The Thuls were just a bunch of corpses with two smoking shells where the turrets had been soon after. We split up when we hit the inner complex. Cormac and his people established a perimeter there, to form a choke point against any of the garrison that tried to make their way to the central command area where whatever Gearbox was working on would be. After a moment’s reflection, I left the two Jedi with them – not that I didn’t want to have their sabers with us, but they’d do a lot more good helping out Cormac and his people. Everything was just about in order when the holoterminal in the middle of the room lit up. Gearbox. “Hey, kid! Good to see you again.” I felt my mouth tighten as he glanced at the rest of my squad. “There’s the grumpy Cathar liaison officer, Jovin? Jordan?” “Jorgan,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Whatever.” Gearbox paid Forex no real attention, instead zeroing in on the two Jedi for a moment, before ending at Elara. “And who do we have here? Looks like Havoc Squad has picked up some fine new candidates.” “Any squad would be improved by you leaving,” I replied coldly. I’d liked Gearbox when I’d met him back on Ord Mantell. At least, I thought I had – now it seemed like everything might have been just an act to sucker me in. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to surrender to save yourself and your troops unnecessary bloodshed?” He laughed heartily. “Always knew you had a sense of humor. You’re almost as funny as me, kid. Why don’t you and your squad come visit me in the control center? We can…talk…more there.” Kolos’ image faded away before any of us could say anything; the only sound we were left with was that of Jorgan’s teeth grinding some more. Cormac spoke first. “Sounds like he has something nasty planned for you, Lieutenant. Are you sure you don’t want any of my soldiers? Or the Jedi?” I shook my head. “No, you’ll be hit by everything else he has – Gearbox wants us to make the mistake of assuming otherwise. My guess is he’s got one of his crazy gadgets waiting for us, something to keep us occupied while his troops overwhelm everyone else. We’ll handle it.” We exchanged nods. Then the four of us turned to the northern corridor and began making our way to Gearbox…and whatever he had waiting for us. There were no Thul soldiers waiting for us, which was strange. Even more so when we heard blaster fire ringing out from behind us and Cormac’s voice reporting heavy fighting over the comm. Everything on our end was a suspicious calm, the kind that always seems to come about right before something crazy happens. The command center was empty as we entered, and the large door on the far side of the room was slammed shut, with an ominously blinking light on either side of it. I ignored the door for the moment, and focused on the panel ahead of us instead. Another light was blinking there, indicating an incoming message. I motioned at the squad, letting them know to take up position on either side of the room, then strode forward to see what Gearbox had to say. “Hey kid, good to see you again.” His voice was tinged with the usual amusement, but there was a darker undertone to it. “I wish you’d brought more of your friends with you, but your squad will have to do.” I got no chance to respond. Instead, I heard a roar as the large door suddenly slammed open. Kark me. I wasn’t quite sure what it was other than a really big robot, big enough that I guessed that Gearbox had to be inside. I didn’t recognize the model – maybe it was a special design – but that didn’t really matter; what mattered was figuring a way to take it out. “Forex, create a distraction for us. Jorgan, right flank. Dorne, keep us all covered. I’ve got left.” Their acknowledgements rang out over the comm, then there was no more time for talking. The droid focused its fire on Forex, like I had known it would – Gearbox likely hadn’t been briefed on what it could do, so he was scrambling. Forex sprayed fire from both of its cannons at the larger machine, then did some sort of gymnastics-like maneuver to draw Gearbox’s attention away from the rest of us. It was an amateur mistake to make. And a fatal one. Jorgan and I both locked onto the hydraulics of the battle droid’s back right ‘leg’, with a pulse from the Cathar’s assault cannon frying the circuitry and throwing the entire monstrosity off balance. Too late, Gearbox seemed to realize his mistake of focusing on Forex, and he shifted his machine back in the squad’s direction. It did so ponderously, and not before a round from my rifle disintegrated the lower portion of the back left leg. The machine fell forward as gracefully as an off-balance Hutt, toppling forward so only one of its turrets could be brought to bear. It tracked my movement with staccato bursts of fire, but a grenade from Forex and another round from Jorgan’s cannon silenced it. Smoke was billowing out from just about everywhere on Gearbox’s creation, so we approached it carefully. Losing someone to its death throes would be a pretty poor way to wrap up the mission, and I couldn’t be sure that Gearbox wouldn’t do something stupid to avoid capture. He had to know what to expect if he was returned to Republic custody. After a minute had passed, a hatch at the top of the machine popped open and Gearbox’ large frame rolled out. He was cut above his right eye, but it seemed to be one of those wounds that looked worse than it actually was. He seemed somehow smaller than when I had first met him back on Ord Mantell – perhaps the time spent with the Empire’s rot was more than moral. “Heh. Might have taken you a full squad, but I guess you managed to take my new toy out.” He tried to grin, but ended up grimacing from the pain. “Afraid I can’t just let you walk out of here.” I laughed. “Don’t think that’s up to you, Kolos. Only question is whether you’re making it out of here alive or dead. I’m fine with either.” I kept my rifle leveled directly at him, as he eyed me closely. “Really, just like that? Haven’t I earned a fair fight?” “Traitorous filth like Tavus and the rest of you aren’t owed anything,” Jorgan interjected. I put my hand out. “It’s fine. I’ll even let him take the first blow in.” “Really?” Jorgan and Gearbox replied at the same time, then shared a look. I simply waved the latter toward me. He obliged, swaggering forward with a confidence that seemed wholly unwarranted. Once he’d gotten closer, he balled his hands into fists and strode forward with a purpose. He got into range and swung one of those fists at the vulnerable spot where my helmet met my armor. I caught his blow with an outstretched arm, then hit him in the stomach with a punch of my own. The air went out of him with a loud whoof, and he fell to his knees, gasping. “You-you said I’d get the first blow.” “I lied.” I smirked at Elara, who didn’t seem too impressed or amused, mostly because my expression was hard to see under a helmet. “Uh, Jorgan. Forex. Take him into custody.” “Kark that!” Gearbox was already moving for a blaster on the ground, but never made it; Jorgan’s cannon cut him down several paces away. Gearbox’ corpse twitched a few times, then was still, leaving us in a room that was suddenly eerily quiet. “Damn it, we could have used him for more intel.” I scowled slightly, before catching myself. “Thanks for the save, Jorgan.” “No problem, chief.” I took a breath and glanced at Gearbox’ corpse. I could understand why he’d decided to go down fighting, but I still was no closer to understanding why he and the others had defected in the first place, not really at least. It was no time for navel-gazing, though. Jorgan moved toward the corridor we’d entered from, recognizing that we needed to reconnect with Cormac and assess the situation. I noted that Elara had already pulled the data from Gearbox’s system, which meant it was time for all of us to go. “Havoc, roll out.” Once they’d all acknowledged the message, I swapped channels to the private one Cormac had set up for us. “Captain Cormac? We’ve neutralized Gearbox and are heading your way. What’s the situation on your end?” “All clear, Lieutenant. We convinced the Thul soldiers that they didn’t need to die for your traitor, so they’re locked in their quarters for the time being. We’re ready to withdraw when you are.” Cormac either laughed or coughed – I couldn’t quite tell. “Then we’ll send our Thul friends the code to get out of their barracks.” I chuckled. “Roger that. We’ll be right there.” “You know what this means, Sir?” Jorgan’s voice rang out over the squad channel. “Garza will be happy with us?” I wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at. “Drinks at the cantina.” He slapped me on the back. “And you’re paying.”

Sorry to see you go, DSM

If you're not finding them in that directory, also remember that the screenshot function can be erratic/unreliable; I'd recommend getting a third-party application to do it. I use FRAPS, personally.

Imperial headquarters in Mos Ila was a nondescript building that would have been completely unremarkable had the roads leading up to it not been blocked off and patrolled by pairs of Imperial soldiers. I supposed that such security measures were always necessary for Imperials, even on a backwater planet such as Tatooine. I wondered if they even understood why that security was necessary. Somehow, I doubted it. Imperials always seemed to have a certain hint of obliviousness about their evil. The soldiers paid me little attention, no doubt well-conditioned to avoiding eye contact with anyone wearing a black robe and wielding a lightsaber. I imagined it was a life lesson ingrained into the heads of every Imperial growing up by their parents. The ends of my lips curled into a small, vicious, smile at that thought – it was the epitome of the stupidity of allowing power-mad sociopaths to have any power at all. I would need to keep such sentiments to myself, however. Somehow, I doubted that the local Imperial troops would be too fond of a Sith that exhibited such…unorthodox political ideas, and I suspected that they would be more than happy to express their displeasure with anything ranging from words to a blaster bolt. The command center was easy enough to find, particularly with the personnel inside practically falling over themselves to direct me toward Captain Dyer. In some strange way, their obsequiousness was amusing to me – that they would practically fall over themselves to show respect to someone that wanted to destroy the system they held so dear. The irony would have been delightful, had the reality of my existence not been so terrible. No matter. Now is not the time for idle amusements. Captain Dyer was hunched over her desk, focused intently on a data pad, when I entered her office. She was surprisingly young for an officer of her rank, though her assignment to a world like Tatooine probably said much for her standing with the people that mattered. As she glanced up from her reading, I was struck by how normalshe seemed – if it hadn’t been for her uniform, she would not have been out of place back on Ithaca. “Captain Antonia Dyer, my Lord. Thank you for agreeing to see me.” I could sense some apprehension from her with the Force – probably because she assumed I might kill her if I felt my time was being wasted. “There is a situation at an Imperial outpost not far from Mos Ila and I could use your assistance.” There was a flicker of outright fear in her hazel eyes. “If you have the time for it, of course.” “What sort of situation?” I was intrigued at the possibilities, but I wanted something concrete before I wasted any more of my time on this Force-forsaken planet. “And why does it require my assistance when there are plenty of Imperial soldiers around to do your bidding?” “My apologies, my Lord.” She flushed slightly. “The Moff has taken most of the garrison for his own purposes, so I am left with a skeleton crew. I would not think to trouble someone of your importance if I had any other option.” “Of course.” I gave her an enigmatic smile. “Now, tell me what your situation is, and I can determine if it is worth my time and effort.” “Yes, my Lord.” Dyer straightened up, smoothing her uniform. “A Colonel Gorik had been operating a…research team…in a small facility to the northwest of Mos Ila. That facility went dark two days ago – no communications, no energy signature, nothing. Ordinarily I would not be too concerned given the colonel’s secrecy about his project, but long-range scanners picked up what looked to be an explosion, and sources in Anchorhead reported Republic activity in the area.” “And you suspect that the Republic might have attacked the facility?” She nodded, which raised another obvious question. “What was Gorik doing at the facility?” Dyer flushed again. “I’m not sure if I am authorized to give you that information, my Lord.” “Come now, captain, if you don’t give me the information I need, I can’t possibly provide you with the help you need.” I was still uncertain about whether this was worth my while, but I suspected it might be. Captain Dyer seemed reasonable enough for an Imperial, so a friendlier approach would likely be more successful. “Help me help you.” I smiled slightly, and was pleased to see her posture relax somewhat. “Yes, my Lord, of course.” She smiled tremulously for a moment, then seemed to think better of doing so in the presence of a Sith. “Colonel Gorik and a defector from the Republic were working on experimental designs for explosive devices.” Dyer leaned in conspiratorially. “I wasn’t supposed to know that, but the colonel reassigned some local troops, who were more than happy to provide details.” I was taken aback for a moment – Captain Dyer had seemed friendlier and more rational than most Imperials, but I had not suspected such openness. Still, I would not look a gift nerf in the mouth. “A defector for the Republic and explosives testing on a world like this? That hardly makes sense.” Dyer flushed yet again, though this time the red in her skin seemed almost angry. “The explosives were being tested on civilians living in the settlement of Anchorhead. Being Republic-affiliated but outside official Republic jurisdiction made it a prime target for the colonel. I attempted to dissuade him, but…”. The captain trailed off, leaving her reasoning unclear. “Explain why you attempted to change his mind.” It might have seemed irrelevant to her, but it might mean the galaxy to me. She pursed her lips and clicked her heels together, clearly steadying herself to give an answer she expected me to disapprove of. That alone made me optimistic. “My Lord, I recognize that politics and history make the Republic our enemy, but I cannot condone the wanton murder of innocent civilians, regardless of their affiliation. Colonel Gorik’s methods were barbaric, and his insatiable lust for destruction even worse. He was a disgrace to the uniform and the principles that are meant to be represented by it.” I smiled slightly, though I was still unsure whether she held truly progressive views, or was merely another of the many useful idiots the Empire employed in order to convince its people that it was the only appropriate master for the galaxy’s population. Still, even the latter meant that I would have a sympathetic ear in the future, if I needed one. “I agree, Captain Dyer. Such criminal activities only undermine the Empire.” It was my turn to purse my lips; I wanted the Empire destroyed, not merely defanged, but meeting the likes of Captain Dyer always weakened my resolve, somewhat. They were not evil, simply misguided, and there was always the chance to turn someone that was misguided back onto the right path. So we were always told, at least. So I’d like to believe. “If you could investigate what’s left of the base and determine if there’s anything the Empire should be aware of, I’m prepared to compensate you generously,” she said. "Not that you are a mercenary, of course." Dyer must have mistaken my lack of an immediate reply as anger, because her cheeks turned an unhealthy shade of red. “I meant no offense, my Lord.” “Of course not, captain.” I unconsciously waved away her concerns with my left hand. “I will investigate this facility for you.” Seeing her obvious sense of relief forced me to repress a laugh. I decided to give her an overstated wink, instead, causing all of her discomfiture to return in a rush, and again requiring me to refrain from laughing. “Can you provide transportation? I have colleagues in Mos Ila, but they have their own matter to attend to.” Dyer nodded briskly. “Of course, my Lord. I’ll assign a speeder to you and provide a pilot for it.” She paused, as if going over some kind of mental checklist. “And anything else you need, of course.” I decided I had had enough fun with poor Antonia Dyer for the day, so I merely nodded in appreciate and let a number of more…amusing…responses die in my mind. “Have the speeder prepared immediately. I will contact my associates and brief them, and then I will be ready to depart.” There didn’t seem to be any need to wait for another reply, so I left the captain in my wake and made my way to a conference room down the hall. I suspected that anything I said would be recorded and scrutinized, but – for once – I had nothing to fear on that front, unless Casey Rix had another surprise up her sleeve when it came to her background. Since I felt safe in assuming she was not on any Imperial watch lists, I calmly dialed Khem. It will be so nice to hear his voice again. <Yes.> His voice was more sullen than usual, most likely because Khem had spent so much time around Revel. “Khem, I’m afraid plans have changed. You and Revel will go and retrieve Casey Rix from her settlement, while I handle another matter for the local garrison. I don’t anticipate it being too much trouble, but if you require any assistance, you may contact me directly or speak with Captain Dyer at the garrison.” <My place is by your side, Little Sith.> I choked back an amused chuckle. “Your place is where ever I need you to be, Khem. In this case, I promised revel that we would rescue Casey Rix, and so you will ensure we uphold our end of the bargain. I will not need assistance where I am going.” Khem responded with what sounded like a harrumph, but acknowledged my command and closed the channel. With that torturous bit of socialization complete, I returned my attention to the task at hand. The speeder dock was technically located below ground, with a carefully secured ramp leading up to the streets above. There was a single row of command speeders, notable for the rather obvious target the command module made, and two rows of six standard speeders each. The machines looked old, though not quite decrepit, but serviceable enough for what was supposedly going to be a relatively routine scouting mission. The pilot Dyer had provided, a pasty-looking man named Kurtz, waved at me as I came into his view. He was pleasant enough to look at, but had the demeanor of a small child let loose in a candy store for the first time. “My Lord, over here!” He waved again, paying no attention to the sheepish and worried looks the mechanics nearby gave him. “I can’t believe I’ve been given this honor!” “Of being a glorified chauffeur,” I noted drily. “Yes, quite the honor.” The point flew over his head and soared into orbit. “I have never been presented with such an opportunity before. To serve as the personal liaison to a member of the Dark Council! The Emperor has blessed me this day.” “I’m not a member of the Dark Council.” I wrinkled my nose and studied the fool more closely, looking for signs of mental incapacity. “A true Sith Lord, in that case. Truly, an honor.” I sighed, already tired of his antics. “I am merely an apprentice.” The light in his eyes went out, and a gratifyingly glum expression took hold of his face. “Now, unless you plan on licking my boots clean, I believe it is time to depart.” Kurtz, apparently eager to prove even my low expectations were too optimistic, knelt halfway down to the ground and hunched down toward my boots. He removed a small white cloth from a pocket in his uniform and began to lean in closer. “Like this, my Lord?” For a moment, I could do little but cover my face with the palm of my right hand. I should not have been surprised by the man-child’s rank stupidity; one generally did not end up assigned to a world like Tatooine if you had the potential to learn to breathe without orders. Unless you are a political liability, like Captain Dyer, I suppose. I sent a small burst of Force energy toward his hand, causing him to cry out in shock and drop his cloth on the ground. “Enough. Retrieve your cloth and show me to the speeder; I have no time for mindless fawning or childish antics.” I tapped my foot loudly, making sure to send a look of death at the mechanics that were now alternating ogling at me with their mockery of Kurtz. The threat of a painful, Force-influenced, death proved to be enough to get them back into line, though there was still some grumbling. Kurtz was mercifully silent during the trip to where Colonel Gorik’s forces had presumably met their end, even managing to contain his excitement about the chance to give me a detailed description of the sand dunes as we passed by. There was a moment of concern when the ululating cries of the Sand People rang out, but we never caught sight of them. In order to ensure we weren’t going to run into any kind of ambush, Kurtz decided to park the speeder several minutes away, hidden from view in a small scouting emplacement Gorik’s men had set up. There was no ambush, though, or any sign that there ever had been one planned. I did sense -something -within the smoking ruins of what had once been Gorik’s base. A familiar presence. No. Two presences, but one has faded away. I reached out with the Force, trying to identify what or who I was feeling, but the presences slipped away like grains of sand through one’s hand. All I could determine for sure was that there was still someone alive in the base, and that they were doing an excellent job of masking their intentions, let alone their true identity. I bit down on my lower lip as I considered my options. Kurtz would most likely be completely useless in any kind of fight, particularly the kind I would expect from anything brave enough to explore whatever was left behind after the Republic destroyed the base. On the other hand, it was rarely a good idea to dismiss potential assistance in an uncertain situation – Kurtz might well prove me wrong, or at least prove enough of a distraction if I needed one. He might also serve as adequate cannon fodder. I frowned at that – he might be stupid and Imperial, but I had no reason to hope for his death. “Kurtz, follow me in. I am not sure what we will find inside, but I imagine I will be better equipped to deal with it than you.” He nodded slightly and slipped behind me. If there is something I don’t want you aware of, you won’t be able to see it, either. The base was surprisingly intact for a place that had apparently seen major combat so recently – there was still smoke and some isolated fires, but it could probably be salvaged. The computer systems looked completely shot, of course, and it wasn’t as if I wanted the Imperials to be able to rebuild, but I supposed it would be a small morsel of information I could give Captain Dyer. As we continued to progress through the facility, it became clear that it might be the only one, though, apart from being able to confirm that the entire garrison appeared to be dead. Then, I felt the presence again. One of them, at least, but a familiar one at that. If my sense of him as right, he was also someone I could not afford to have Kurtz see, unless he died soon thereafter. I turned to my companion and smiled broadly, hoping to throw him off balance. I succeeded. “Kurtz, be a dear and keep this floor secure. I will attempt to meditate on what happened here, but I require silence and security.” The poor fool nodded and turned back towards the doorway we had just come through, not even bother to spare me another glance. I wondered if that meant he was as oblivious as I imagined, or if he was simply smart enough to know not to ask any question. Either suited my purposes well enough, so I decided not to question it. No. There is someone else here that needs my questions as much as I need his answers. I made my way to him using the Force, as he had dropped whatever cloak had kept him partially hidden before. Whatever Vharmir P’loesti or his SIS wanted, it was obvious they did not entirely trust me, which was entirely fair given that I did not trust them, either. I was not a fool – they viewed me as a potential asset, not a person, and I suspected that P’loesti was here to make his pitch again. It would be interesting to see if his song had any new notes. P’loesti was leaning against the burnt-out remains of a standard Imperial shuttle when I found him in the hangar, acting as casual as a teenager would at their favorite hangout. His eyes were brown now – whether from some kind of lens or from removing ones he had been wearing, I did not know. His clothes were still the same nondescript civilian attire that Khem had mentioned was fashionable out on the Rim. He offered me a smile as I approached, but I could easily discern that it was a professional one. “Greetings.” I noticed that he had dropped any pretense at an Imperial accent. “I see you left your driver elsewhere.” I smirked slightly. “I was worried you might murder the poor thing. Bad enough that you waste my time with this cloak and daggers nonsense. What is it you want?” “No doubt.” He winced. “I realize you haven’t had the time to properly consider what we discussed in the cantina.” “And yet you are here,” I noted pointedly. “But not answering my question, I see.” “I meant no offense. I got in contact with certain other members of my organization, and apprised them of your situation. They have agreed to allow for some flexibility.” Flexibility? Why does he speak as if I have already accepted his offer? “They wanted me to prove that they have only good intentions for your potential partnership.” “How considerate of them.” I bit down hard on my lip to avoid releasing a laugh. “And how do they plan on doing that.” It was P’loesti’s turn to bite down on his lip. “They have arranged for certain discretionary funds to be made available to you. And…” He glanced down at the pack around his waist as he rummaged around in it. “They wanted you to have this.” He extended his arm out; a package was in his hand. I let out an audible gasp as I recognized what he held. “I haven’t seen any wellberry cake since –“ “Since you left the Inner Rim,” he finished with a triumphant smile. He knew before we had ever even met. “I thought you might like it.” I narrowed my eyes as I calculated the situation, but the SIS knowing I was from the Inner Rim meant very little given how quickly some of my mannerisms could probably be read. It isn’t as if wellberry cake narrows things down, anyway. It still left me feeling like I was at a disadvantage, though, as I knew next to nothing about the SIS or its agents. “Time for me to go.” P’loesti tossed me a jaunty salute. “I’m sure you can hide the cake somewhere in your robes. Force knows you’ve got all sorts of things hidden there.” For once, I found my tongue hopelessly tied in a knot for too long to reply, and was forced to respond by shaking my fist at his retreating back. I was unnerved to learn that the SIS had a leg up on me. Even more so when I realized that in order for P’loesti to have been waiting here in the first place, he must have been made aware that I would be coming. That suggested a traitor within the Imperial ranks…or that my own ship was not as secure as I would have liked. A troubling thought. I shifted my direction to return to Kurtz when I noticed what appeared to be a marking on the wall across from the shuttle. I decided to investigate – after all, what was a minute spent on idle curiosity compared to a lifetime of regret? As I drew closer, I realized that it was not just any symbol; it was one that I had seen regularly growing up. The shield of the Maker. My mother’s faith had always meant more to Ayrs than it had to me, but the shield had been an ever-present part of my childhood. The Faith was primarily practiced by the human population of many Inner Rim worlds, but it was not nearly common enough to expect to see it here, in this place. I doubted that one of Gorik’s soldiers would have been responsible for it – Imperials weren’t known for overt displays of religious belief, and the Faith was almost entirely followed within Republic borders. If all of that was true, though, it meant that one of the Republic attackers was likely responsible for the marking. Why, though? The shield was not merely a symbol for the Faith as a whole; it also represented the duty that adherents had to those that required their aid and support. Most of all, it represented a way of life that had led hundreds of thousands to dedicate their lives in service to the Republic, including so many members of my own family. It was…curious…to find it here, today. And strangely unsettling. There would be plenty of time to consider the symbol in more depth later, though, so I forced myself to step away from the wall and continue on my way back to the central part of the base. Kurtz was there waiting for me, casually leaning against what was left of a control panel. He looked different than he had when I had left him, somehow, though I could not quite decide how or why. In the end, it did not matter all that much – people like Kurtz were not who I needed to be concerned with. Fortunately, he seemed to agree with that sentiment without me ever needing to vocalize it – he said nothing to me as we returned to Mos Ila. As we pulled into the hangar at the Imperial base, that changed. He swiveled in his seat and gave me a strange look – not quite a leer, but something like it. “I trust your visit to the base was productive, my Lord. Perhaps we shall meet again.” He gave me an impish smile as he left without the groveling salute he had given when I had first met. I felt a cold wave pass through my body. You were a fool to let your guard around him so easily. Every bit the fool you thought that he was. My cheeks were still somewhat red when I reported back to Captain Dyer, who seemed strangely disappointed by the news that the base had indeed been destroyed, with no survivors. Then again, I imagined that this sort of incident was probably the most interesting thing to happen to the Imperials on Tatooine for some time, possibly ever. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction when the meeting was over and failed to convince myself to not feel guilty because I was helping a decent person specifically, and not the Empire. I sighed as I left the building and headed back to the cantina. Life was much easier when the Imperials I were dealing with mirrored the personalities of the Sith on Korriban. It was more…confusing…to deal with someone who seemed a better fit for the Republic. I had no quarrel with such people, only with the system that they served, sometimes unwillingly. It was a lesson that I sometimes felt I was continually relearning. Perhaps that was for the best, though, as I could not afford to forget to distinguish between those Imperials that were truly my enemy and those that were not. Khem and Revel were waiting for me in the room where our misadventures had begun, along with a very relieved-looking Casey Rix. I spotted the hint of disgust at the number of empty bottles in the room, but she seemed in good spirits otherwise, which pleased me more than I would have expected. “Sith, good to see you.” Surprisingly, Revel sounded like he meant it. That realization immediately put my mind on alert. “We’ve been waiting for a while. Have fun with your Imperial friends?” I snorted in response. “Is there anything else you require of me before I depart? I am more than tired of this world.” “Heh. As social as ever.” His laugh was filled with something other than mirth, though, and it looked as though he was gathering himself for a difficult question. “Got a favor to ask of you, Sith.” Of course. “Zash can arrange for your reward better than I can, so I fail to see why you would need to ask me.” “Not something she can offer.” He took a deep breath, then continued. “I want a place on your ship.” “What?!” I was not sure who was more surprised – Casey or me. “I got to thinking – the only reason Casey got into trouble was because of me, and I can’t have that happen again.” I was flustered at the thought of Revel acting selflessly – it was like the galaxy was upside down. “I need to do something more, anyway. Figured you might find me a spot aboard your ship. Heard you need a pilot, anyway. Heh.” “What I don’t need is a pirate,” I managed to sputter. “Look, Sith, I’m not saying we need to be friends. Just saying we could be good partners in crime.” He flinched, as he realized he’d used a phrase he shouldn’t have. “Partners, at least. You never know when you might need a good gun by your side, either.” I chewed on my lip – every instinct I had was screaming to turn him down and throw the offer back in his face, but there was a certain, unwelcome, appeal to it. I did not want to admit it, but Revel had proven himself to be useful in a fight, and I could use someone to pilot my ship. He isn’t what I would have expected a pirate to be like, either. “Andy, are you sure –“ Revel gently stroked her hair, a surprisingly sweet gesture from a man that seemed to have lived a very bitter existence. “Don’t worry, Cas. The Sith here’s good people.” “I –“ You, what? “I am not fond of pirates.” I decided to begin with the understatement of the century. “So I’ve heard,” he replied drolly. “We don’t need to be friends, Sith. Not sure I’d ever want to be friends with a Sith, anyway, heh. We have something in common, though.” “And what is that?” I narrowed my eyes, attempting to disintegrate his head with the power of my imagined telekinetic powers. “We both want to make people pay for hurting us….and the people and things we care about.” He gave me a curious look, not unlikely what the SIS agents had earlier. “We work together, and we can make that happen.” I wanted to say no. I should have said no. And yet, when I tried to open my mouth to say the words, I found I could not. “You will pilot my ship, but obey my commands. You will commit no acts of piracy or commit any crimes against anyone but my enemies. You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will not – under any circumstances – refer to me as anything but your superior.” He bristled at the last one, but said nothing. “And if you cause me any undue problems, I reserve the right to throw you off the ship and/or dismember you.” Rix’ eyes went a little wide, but Revel just laughed. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Sith.”

I'm curious, then. If you were so clear on what I was saying, why even bring up "class story will be 12.5% of the complexity/length of faction stories" or "it will require a 400% spike in revenue", which clearly have no relevance to my posts? Or many others' posts, for that matter. I'm not saying they have to or even should work on class-related content, only that I would like them to. As to the first paragraph - the point is simply "Bioware isn't (as far as we know) working on X right now therefore they don't plan to/can't" doesn't seem to hold weight, in a good way. So? Their original plan was not to go F2P, but they did anyway because circumstances called for it. If enough people are interested in class story/class content, then why wouldn't Bioware at least consider it? Again, as long as people are reasonable in requesting content they want, then I still fail to see why there are people in this topic trying to shut them up. Bioware clearly does listen to suggestions (legacy bank, player housing, cartel market stuff too), so it behooves players that want a particular form of content to let Bioware know. The moment Bioware stops hearing "I want class story" is far more likely to be the moment any hope actually ends than some moment two years ago after the final bit of class story from 1-50 was written. So what's the problem with people stating they want that prioritization to change? It'd be one thing if these threads contained people threatening Bioware's employees with physical violence or throwing slurs around at people that preferred PvP, but a thread stating "I would like more class story because..." is both inoffensive and constructive. If it can't be done right now, it can't be done, but the poster(s) can have their voice heard. Having had experience in supporting a software development team in a large corporation, I'm actually well aware of what goes into a lot of the business planning, thanks. My point is that a lot of your assumptions are not based on any tangible facts or specific understanding of Bioware budgeting. There's no particularly good reason to assume that the budget spent on, say, player housing is going to be static from this point going forward. Nor is there any good reason to assume the same about many other aspects of the game. I have no idea where "if they had resources to do it, they would do it, since they aren't, they clearly don't have the resources and won't have the resources in the future" comes from. That isn't to say they will definitely be able to allocate any necessary resources, just that there's no reason to assume they can't. They were obviously able to find the budget for additional projects already, after all. Minor example from the story side - Alexander Freed is a freelance writer now, and they brought him back to pen the upcoming arc. (And I am thankful for that, since i'd much rather it was in his hands) Because while the quality of Bioware's writing overall tends to be extremely inconsistent, I generally feel more attachment to aspects of the story that are specific to each character than generic elements, particularly ones that are repetitive and lack flavor (like Oricon, for example). Hence why I don't need full-fledged stories - although I would not mind them - what I want is to experience a story on my trooper that isn't exactly like the one I just completed on my knight (it's also why I really enjoy the companions) - if I wanted one standard story per faction, I would have stuck with WOW and never returned to TOR.

I guess you missed the point of what I said. You claimed that adding class content would require 400% spike in revenue, which was completely absurd, and then followed it up by (again) incorrectly assuming that my specific interest was in full-fledged class storylines alongside faction stories. Wanting class-related content =/= demanding full-fledged storylines. Further, given the surprise people experienced at seeing player housing and legacy storage out of nowhere, I'm baffled as to why you seem to think that not seeing a particular feature being introduced at a specific time means it can't possibly be in development or at least be planned for later. For someone who claims to be trying to consider the business side of things, you seem to be rather comfortable making baseless/uninformed assumptions about how projects work so long as they support your argument. For example, why are you assuming that the costs of things like GSF or player housing or legacy storage will remain static after development is complete and they are in game? Why are you assuming Bioware either doesn't have plans to continue class-related content later or (at least) is amenable to being convinced to do so? Unless you have SWTOR's budget and financial forecast, how can anyone on this forum even attempt to answer this? Yet again you resort to an absurd argument to try to make a point (yet you're more than happy with making up facts about the budgeting out of thin air to support your own "case"). Not to mention your never-ending attempts to lump everyone together into one group that apparently only cares about the 'class' aspect and doesn't care about the financial side of things, quality, anyone that doesn't agree with them, etc. I'll ask again - since you apparently don't have any interest in class stories, have no interest in being convinced otherwise, and apparently don't hold a high opinion of anyone that does want them, why are you in this topic?

Your posts would be a lot more productive if you didn't resort to these kind of absurd claims every time you wanted to discredit people who want more class story. Why on Earth would you need a 400% revenue spike to add class-related content? Even ignoring that, you are (again) assuming "I want class story/class-related content" to mean "I want full-fledged class storylines like from 0-50", regardless of whether or not the person has even stated what kind of content they're looking for. What are you even talking about here? Bioware prioritizing X over Y doesn't mean they are incapable of doing Y or that Z is completely off the table. If Bioware really was incapable or completely uninterested in doing class-related story content again, don't you think they would have mentioned it? Not to mention that 2.7 includes a class-specific mail to each character that has completed their class story, so clearly they're aware of the attachment many people have to the concept. This thread (and others like it, comments at Cantina events, etc.) serve a very clear purpose - to demonstrate continued, strong, interest in class story content. If Bioware can spend resources on the SSSP/GSF over a period of twoish years (and continue to do so going forward) and can develop things like legacy storage (supposedly technically impossible) and player housing (wall of crazy), then I'm struggling to see why you think your "argument" about a business case makes any sense. If people say nothing, then why wouldn't Bioware simply assume that there isn't as much interest any more?

No, that's what the strawman you're setting up is. I've never actually stated what kind of class story I'm interested in, so it's definitely not exactly what I'm asking for. I certainly wouldn't expect class story in place of faction stories. Fortunately, they are enjoying increased revenue, aren't they? This is a lot of conjecture, given that their reasoning for why class stories aren't planned has changed from "it's difficult to plot out stories with long-term consequences" to "faction stories are more group friendly" to "we're focusing on the larger war" to "people liked Makeb so therefore they like faction stories better". There's certainly a financial element to it (although they've apparently been willing to put money into things like GSF, player housing, solving the legacy storage issue, etc.), but you're simply making assumptions beyond the nebulous/obvious fact budgeting issue. Your bolded statement is simply an argument ad absurdum people have used several times now - "we want class story/class-related story content" doesn't mean devoting all story resources strictly to mini, class-specific, storylines. I'd also note that the faction storylines we are getting are hardly long or complex, anyway.

Legacy-wide storage was specifically said to be "too technically difficult" to do at one point, and yet it's coming anyway (even if they haven't specified exactly what form it will take). They've also not said "no more class stories", they've said they're focusing on "Avengers-style"/faction stories for now. They've also specifically noted that they're aware that there's a lot of interest in continuing them. And your rationale for this is what, specifically? Moving to faction-based stories hasn't appreciably increased the amount of story content we get (Oricon's "planet" arc, for example, consists of doing the daily quests, only with a cutscene in between each quest...and once you've completed it on one character, you've done it all. Neither Makeb arc has any significant depth to it (the Republic one is about as shallow a story as any in the game, the Imperial one at least has some credible beats to it), CZ-198 was a paper-thin story, etc. I'm not seeing how these are representative of a 'more positive' experience. I would agree to the extent that any additions to class story need to be made alongside additional general story - simply adding class story on its own isn't the way forward. That being said, I don't see any particularly convincing argument for saying the elimination of class story has actually increased story quality or enhanced the story experience. Why? This seems more like "I want to argue against them for the sake of arguing". Bioware has indicated it's aware that people are interested in class stories, these topics are a good way for players to make Bioware aware of continued interest, and an occasional topic about class stories doesn't affect you in any way. If you feel such topics are useless 'harping', you can just ignore them. I agree that class story isn't inherent'y better - Bioware's perfectly capable of mediocre writing regardless of the story type. I don't see how this is relevant to people wanting more class story, though.

You mean things that weren't going to happen like guild ships? Player housing? More robust space-based gameplay? People should be able to decide for themselves if they are 'wasting' time by asking for something. If class story (or class-related content to whatever extent) is what they want to see in the game, they aren't "wasting" their time by making that known. Class story is clearly still important to quite a large number of people. I don't see why people feel they need to pretend to be knowledgeable arbiters of what people should and should not want in the game. I think pazaak would be pointless to add, for example, but you don't see me trying to shout down the people who do want it and telling them they're wasting their time. Edit: I don't think there's anything wrong with, say, noting that the developers have said "no class story for now" or that they're unlikely to do [x] because of [y].

Where have they said that? Every answer I've seen on the subject says one of three things 1. It's difficult writing stories with consequences that have to be taken into account later on in the story 2. Shared quests are more group-friendly than class-specific ones 3. People liked Makeb so therefore they must also like generic quests more than class ones going forward.

I let Elara handle the Duke’s people on the flight back to the palace. I’d been more than happy to see them swooping in on our LZ with a couple of armored carriers, but dealing with fussy diplomatic types was more of her thing than mine, anyway. Not like you can put Jorgan or 4X on the job, either. Elara looked happy enough to do it, anyway, probably since the Organa bureaucrats actually gave her a challenge for once. Mostly, I was concerned about what the withdrawal of the Organa commandos we’d hit the power generator with meant. They’d peeled off and returned to the palace instead of assisting with the rescue op for their own duke; it made no damn sense, which only worried me even more. Not every Organa was the kind of person the Republic would want to associate with, after all, and the vibe those men and women had given off had been…off. Wrong, in the way that Nar Shaddaa had felt. You’ll find out soon enough, Ayrs. No point stressing out about it now. I tapped Jorgan on the shoulder, then tapped my ear, letting him know I wanted him to pop his helmet on. I did the same. “Your thoughts on the op, Jorgan?” The Cathar wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but he was an acceptable distraction from stressing out about Alderaanian and intergalactic political relations, and wouldn't sugarcoat his feelings about the Alderaanians. Forex would be able to overhear us on the channel, of course, but I figured it would understand to keep its version of a mouth shut. “Smooth, smoother than I expected. Those Organa troops weren’t the screw-ups I expected.” He licked his lips before continuing. “Hopefully we didn’t use up all our good luck on that one run. Especially with that pistol stunt of yours.” “Ha.” I snorted loudly. “What did you make of the Duke’s own stunt?” I could almost hear Jorgan smirking through his helmet. “Are you asking what I think of what he did, sir, or what I think of our initial judgments of the man?” “My judgment, not yours, Jorgan.” I grimaced. “But since I’ll need to file a report on our unscheduled adventure, I figure I might as well get input from the squad.” “You mean since Dorne will need to file a report for you, sir?” Jorgan’s tone was as close to innocence as was possible, only strengthening my desire to strangle him. “Yeah, whatever. Just remember that if you were on the squad because of your sense of humor, you’d have been dishonorably discharged a few years ago.” I heard a bark of laughter over the comm before Jorgan fell silent. Somehow, despite everything else, it was reassuring to know that I wasn’t the only one with concerns about certain elements of our Organa allies. I realized that it wasn’t as if we could only ally with people that doubled as saints, but the internecine fighting on this planet seemed to breed a particular breed of nastiness. If that wasn’t enough, there – “Sir! A question, if I may.” Forex’s loud, overly excited, voice boomed over the comm. It hurt my ears, and I could see Jorgan rubbing the side of his helmet ruefully as well. “Go ahead, Forex. Not so loudly, though, if you please.” “Affirmative, sir! I am receiving a distress signal from Valyn Thul on a secondary channel.” “You’re what?” Jorgan doubled over again, attracting unwanted attention. “You gave a potentially hostile civilian access to a comm channel to communicate with you?” Forex bobbed its head up and down. “Of course, Sir! She assured me that she was entirely onboard with our glorious project of bringing democracy and freedom to the enslaved peoples of the Empire! In fact, she generously offered her services in designing and distributing informative pamphlets for distribution among the Thul population in order to better disseminate our political stances. I have calculated the odds for success and I believe them to be quite good!” I discovered that my right hand was shaking, and felt a vein in my forehead nearly pop, and found myself speaking through gritted teeth once I had composed myself. “And that message she sent?” “Oh, of course Sir! It is an automated distress signal.” The possibilities flashed through my mind like a montage on a holoshow, numerous possibilities but only one that seemed likely. The Organa troops that had left us after the power generator, sent by the hot-headed Pallos Organa…and they’d left their duke behind to return to the palace mid-op. ****. I unstrapped myself from the chair and scrambled up to the cockpit. We were still nearly half an hour away from the palace, but that was at our current cruising speed. We could go faster, we needed to go faster. I needed the crew to understand. “Pilot? We have a priority situation back at the palace. I need you to push this bird as hard as you can.” The pilot gave me a look that suggested he’d rather push me off the ship than do what I’d said. “We have procedures for this, Lieutenant. We go as fast as they tell me to.” I slammed a fist down on the control panel, drawing angry looks from the pilot and his partner. “I don’t have time for your damn procedures, and trust me, I’m well acquainted with procedures and this would be a good time to shove them firmly up your ***.” “This is an Organa vessel, Lieutenant. I recommend you retake your sit and we’ll get there when we get there.” I heard the shuffling behind me only a moment before the smooth Alderaanian voice. “And the duke recommends you listen to Lieutenant Martell and expedite our return. Surely you would not want procedural matters to interfere with the duke’s wishes, would you?” I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see a petite, middle-aged, woman. I still found her more intimidating than anyone outside of Garza. Or Elara, when you try to talk to her. Idiot. “If you don’t mind, Lieutenant, please return to your seat. The mind boggles at how dangerous travel at such speeds might be.” Then she winked at me. I simply gulped and slipped back into the passenger area. I carefully avoided looking like I was looking at anyone, especially the woman that had rescued me in the cockpit. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the way it’d felt like she was watching me from behind as I had returned to my seat, and I definitely didn’t like the way she was looking at me now. We put down at the palace fifteen minutes later, but got delayed by protocol requiring that the duke be taken off the ship before we could disembark. The minutes it took for him and his entourage to get off felt like hours, and I was feeling more than a little antsy as it was. We followed right on the heels of the duke’s entourage, double timing it from the landing platform toward the palace. Forex wasn’t getting anything else from Valyn Thul over the comm, and there was a lot of static on the standard comm channels when we tried patching into the local defense network. It wasn’t until we were nearly to the main palace that I heard the familiar voice of Captain Cormac. “Lieu--- --tell, do you –py?” I grimaced – anything that was able to create that kind of interference on a Republic channel was probably serious business, and if the Organas weren’t reacting to it – and the relaxed posture of the guards we passed suggested they weren’t – then it was an inside, approved, job. Which means our suspicions were right and we’re about to be in real trouble. “Captain Cormac, this is Lieutenant Martell. I read your signal, but we’re running into a lot of interference. Is there an issue in the detention center? Do you need assistance?” There was a loud burst of static before the reply came through. “—los Organa ---- ---- Markus --- women. Require ---sistance.” No real point in continuing half a conversation, so I gave a quick hand signal to the rest of the squad and redirected all of us to the detention level. For a moment, I wondered what Pallos Organa might possibly want with Markus Thul and his family; then I realized it was all too obvious. Worried, I signaled to the squad that we needed to move even faster, the lowered my head to lead the way. I tried not to notice the strange looks from the people we passed along the way. We halted our progress just outside the detention center – I could hear raised voices from inside the room, and I didn’t want to walk into any surprised. On the other hand, it wasn’t like we could storm in with weapons at the ready. *********** Alderaanians. Always finding a way to make things difficult. We needed to be planning our next move against Gearbox, not wasting time on petty squabbles. Damnit. I peered around the corner and didn’t like what I saw at all. ‘Chuckles’ and the rest of the unit that had been with us on the op were arrayed in two lines facing the cell area; their backs were to us, but their hostility was palpable. Across from them was Captain Cormac, with a pair of his unit to either side. Behind them were Altana and Valyn Thul, standing as tall and proud as ever, but the elder woman wore a concerned look that suggested we’d arrived just in time. Judging from the noticeable absence of Markus Thul, I just hoped we were not too late. Time to make a decision on how to play this. I suspected Chuckles and his troops would not be receptive to talking, but coming in with weapons drawn would be too damn risky; one frayed nerve or misunderstanding later, and we could all end up dead. No, we’d have to keep things professional, and hope the situation could be resolved without overt threats. Fortunately, I suspected I had an answer for that problem. With nothing else to debate, I strode boldly into the room, feeling the reassuring presence of my squad and the slightly less reassuring one of Forex, sweeping in behind me. “Chuckles, I’m surprised to see you and your men here. After all, I would have thought that rescuing the duke would be more of a priority for you than harassing Captain Cormac and intimidating a prisoner’s family.” I folded my arms across my chest as he and his entire group swiveled on their feet to face us. I was relieved to see they all had holstered their weapons as well, but the look in his eye was troubling. “Perhaps we can speak about this in private, away from here.” He shook his head. “I’ve got orders, straight from the Organas. I intend to follow them, regardless of what you or your Republic wants.” Pallos. He didn’t need to say it. “What will it take you to leave this place now, without any trouble?” I didn’t expect to like his answer, so I subtly shrugged my right shoulder to signal my squad to be ready. I still hoped to avoid a fight, but…. “You don’t understand, do you? Stupid Republic types.” I sensed Jorgan and Elara stiffening at that. “Why don’t you just leave, before you break a nail?” I sighed – the problem with these types is that they never understood perspective, only the pathological need to follow their boss’ orders to the letter, mistakenly thinking that that somehow made them more valuable, or even more capable. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I was also afraid that we’d already wasted too much time. Where ever Markus Thul was, I suspected he was being mistreated, possibly eve tortured. Depending on how angry Pallos Organa was, perhaps he was even dead. We needed to end things now, before that became any more likely. “I’m going to need to take you and your men into custody and remove the Thuls from yours.” “Ha.” There wasn’t any mirth evident in his voice, though. “You have no authority here, Republic dog.” I straightened slightly and almost wished being a soldier didn’t mandate wearing a helmet so I could have given Elara a knowing glance as I started. “If that’s how you want to play things, fine. Captain Cormac?” The big man snapped to attention. “Yes, Lieutenant?” “You and your men are to take these soldiers into custody; feel free to detain them in the cells behind you..” I paused, as a deathly silence filled the room. “Sergeant Dorne, you and Forex will escort the Thuls back to the spaceport and ensure they safely arrive at the Republic post there. Inform Captain Ingvar that he can expect an update from me shortly.” “Understood, Sir!” Elara made a move toward the cells, but found herself blocked by the Organa thugs. Chuckles simply laughed at the scene. “You’ve got no authority here, you stupid piece of ****. We’re not part of your damn Republic any more, we’re independent Your ‘orders’ are meaningless.” I drew my pistol, but left it hanging by my side. “You are mistaken. While it is true that the Republic has no official jurisdiction on Alderaan at the moment, I have jurisdiction over you..” The Organa men looked more confused than anything else. “You see, by engaging in a military operation with Havoc Squad you became an auxiliary force under the Treaty of Onderon. Alderaan, while no longer a member of the Republic, is a signatory of that treaty, isn’t it?” Chuckles responded to my cheerfully offered question with brooding silence. I made a show of pretending to look up the answer. “In fact, it is! Given that is the case, let me see if my memory holds up…Section 4, addendum 3(b) notes that ‘auxiliary forces shall be considered within the operational jurisdiction of their affiliated partners with regards to conduct directed at appropriately identified prisoners.’.” I let my slight smirk grow into a ****-eating grin. “As it happens, Markus Thul and his family are appropriately identified prisoners, and – as such – your conduct falls within my purview as the highest ranking Republic officer on the scene.” The rest of the squad were ready for action, but it was pretty clear none of the Organas was. “Captain Cormac?” I reduced my voice back to its normal self. The captain nodded. “You will disarm these soldiers and detain them here until such time that a properly constituted board of inquiry can be convened. Sergeant Dorne and Forex will assist in the process.” One of Chuckles’ men looked about ready to do something stupid. “If you are given any trouble, you are authorized to use any appropriate measures to ensure the completion of your task. Up to and including deadly force.” I let the implications of that sink in. “You will also place the two Thuls into protective custody until I return, at which point they will be transferred to Republic hands along with…where is Markus Thul?” I grimaced slightly as I stumbled over my own words. “He took them upstairs, Lieutenant. Third floor, personal quarters.” I nodded. “You have your orders, Captain.” I watched impassively as the last flickers of resistance died after Cormac began his work. Chuckles was one of the last to be cuffed and prodded into the cells, but even he looked shell shocked. I suddenly realized why people found Elara so intimidating – much harder to fight against something you didn’t understand or know how to deal with, and men like Chuckles knew nothing of legalities and treaties. He’s a brute, nothing more. Once I was comfortable things were under control, I tapped Jorgan on the shoulder, and we both took off for Pallos Organa’s quarters at a dead sprint. I didn’t really give a damn if it violated protocols or if having drawn weapons might frighten some of our precious Organa allies. I was not going to let some scummy noble do anything to someone under my protection. He had three guards outside his door, one on either side and the third standing right out front. The latter stepped forward as we approached, with his hand out in front of him. I didn’t have time for that, so I shoved him aside and brushed off the other two. Judging from their only half-hearted attempt to stop us, it seemed like even they were having misgivings about what their boss was up to. Judging from the muffled sounds I heard through the closed double doors in the suite, it should have been more than misgivings. I slammed the door open with a sharp kick of my right leg and found Pallos Organa leaning menacingly over Markus Thul, who was strapped into a chair that had all kinds of nasty-looking attachments on it. Thul had a bad cut above his right eye, which was also so swollen that it was nearly shut, and the rest of him didn’t look much better. No. I launched myself at Organa, who only had time to turn halfway in my direction before I slammed into him with everything I had. His audible “oof” was like music to my ears, as was the noise of all of the air going out of him as he crashed into the floor. I freed my right arm and slammed an armored fist into his face twice, then picked his upper body up by gripping either side of his shirt’s collar. “How does it feel?” It was a rhetorical question, and not one I wasted time waiting for an answer to. I hit him again. “Won’t risk your noble *** out there in the field with the people fighting and dying for you, but you’ll creep down to the prison so you can abuse a prisoner and intimidate his family?” “What do you know about it?” He sneered at me through the blood and wincing. “Do you even know who you are dealing with? I am Pallos Thessius Or-“ I hit him again. “Or how about you shut up right about now?” I didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, I got back to my feet and pulled him up by his collar, ripping the expensive fabric slightly. Not like I gave a damn about that, though. It looked like I’d probably knocked out a couple of teeth, and any spirit he had left in him. Good. I want him a little humble. “Thul needs some medical aid. We should probably have Dorne come up here,” Jorgan noted. “Negative.” Thul wouldn’t be safe here. Neither would his wife or daughter. “We need to get him out of here and to the spaceport under Republic guard. His family, too. Just…be gentle.” I grimaced – Forex was more likely to be gentle than the angriest Cathar in the galaxy. We got even more strange looks heading back down to the detention center, especially from the people that recognized Pallos Organa, but Cormac had been thinking ahead and sent some reinforcements. They didn’t look all that pleased with what we were up to, either, but the captain seemed to have a good handle on his troops, and we managed the trip without running into any trouble. Thul didn’t look very good, though, and Elara hurried over to him when she saw us arriving. I slid over to Cormac. “Captain, I’m taking the Thuls back to the spaceport. It’s not safe for them here, and I need to be able to guarantee their safety. I need you to hold station here until I can get a squad up here from the ‘volunteers’ the Republic sent.” He didn’t look okay, so I clasped his shoulder. “Cormac, I know you’re an Organa man, but I also know you want to do this the right way. You’re not alone. I’m not going to leave you hanging.” After a moment, Cormac shook his head and seemed to snap out of it. He looked me directly in the eyes, and I could see the steel beneath the uncertainty as his jaw set in place. “You can count on me, Lieutenant. We’ll hold the fort down.” Cormac had a couple of his people lead us out through a secondary exit, to avoid any potential trouble with other Organa troops that might be more loyal to Pallos than the principles the duke claimed to be fighting for. Not that I could blame him for that – not after what he’d done, but it was a lot easier for a man to stand for something than to get an entire population behind it. Everyone has their own agenda and biases and goals and when you throw them in with a group of people just like them… I took a deep breath and sighed in relief as we turned the corner of the palace and found the small shuttlecraft Cormac had arranged for us. Nothing fancy, but we needed a safe ride out of dodge, not anything that would draw attention. Markus Thul, supported by Jorgan, got on first, followed by his wife and daughter. Dorne followed after shooting me a look that meant nothing to me coming from behind a helmet, and I jumped on last. Forex was too large for the light craft’s passenger compartment, but it was able to attach itself to the hull magnetically; Valyn Thul had apparently convinced it was a good idea. The Thuls looked pretty shaken up as we flew west to the spaceport, but intact. Mostly, at least – Markus was banged up pretty badly even with Elara’s intervention, and Altana looked almost as bad just from the worrying. Almost reminded me of my own family, only from the opposite side of things, politically. For a moment, I wondered how Valyn was holding up, but after I glanced in her direction and saw her excitedly yelling questions at the pilot, I realized it was another time when discretion was the better part of valor. She’ll be all right. Whatever else she is, she’s tougher than she looks. I tried not to think about how much she reminded me of Ally. We touched down a few minutes later, with Elara and Jorgan helping the elder Thuls off the craft and leading them to the medical center. Forex disengaged from the shuttle and made some comment about locating Imperial infiltrators; it wasn’t until after it was too far gone that I realized the precarious situation I had left myself in. “Lieutenant Martell?” She wasn’t her usual, ebullient, self. Poor girl must have been scared as hell after what those thugs did. “I…um…was wondering if I…um…could ask a question.” I gave her a quick smile, hoping to settle her nerves a bit. “Of course, Miss Thul. What can I do for you?” I removed my helmet and leaned against the shuttle, hoping to further put her at ease. “Why did you do it?” “Why did I do what?” I frowned slightly, wondering what she meant. “You imprisoned your own allies and threatened an important noble from House Organa, all to protect my parents and me.” Her eyes were narrower than usual, and lacked the flash of excitement that usually partnered with her excessive volubility. Ally was always getting into trouble – exploring places she shouldn’t be in, saying things she should have kept to herself, always being exactly where you least wanted her to be when it mattered the most. I shrugged slightly. “It was the right thing to do I guess. Your family was under my protection, in my custody. That means I owed it to you.” I picked my words like a kid picks at their meal – trying to find the bits that were just right. “Well, I can say we are all very appreciative of your efforts. It is far better treatment than we would expect someone to offer their enemy.” Ally never met someone she couldn’t befriend, not even if they tried to avoid it. “You aren't my enemy, Valyn. The people in the Empire that want to destroy everything the Republic stands for and the Sith, those are the kind of people that are my enemy. You’re just a girl trying to grow up as normally as you can on this rock. Must be hard as hell with all the crazy nobles running around.” I gave her another smile. “Hell, if you can find it in you to like that droid of mine, I’m sure you’re destined to do other amazing things.” The girl twisted at the waist to look outside of the spaceport for a moment, scrunching her face up. “Do you think it’ll ever be over? Not just here on Alderaan, I mean, but the fighting in the galaxy.” She was twelve when they hit Ithaca. Young enough to be innocent, old enough to dream of her future. Far too young to die. “It comes and goes. Ain’t never going to get rid of people fighting over some planet or another, especially with the karking Sith around.” She flinched at the curse, causing me to blush somewhat. “Sorry. My manners aren’t quite what they used to be.” I grinned sheepishly and pulled myself back together a bit. “I learned a while ago not to dream about ending wars. It’s not about anything like that, it’s about finding something in your life worth fighting for.” “That is something mum says, too. It’s why I like to learn about so many things. Have you found something? To fight for, I mean.” She gave me a nervous look. I flinched again at the memories. “I had a family. I hope like hell to have one again. Until I do, helping out overly curious girls like you will have to do.” She looked at me with guileless brown eyes, sad somehow, even if the rest of her face betrayed no emotion. “I’m sorry. It was rather foolish of me to bring up your family. I’m so terribly clumsy about such things.” So was Ally. “It’s alright. You remind me of them, anyway. Of my sister I mean.” I looked down at the ground. She suddenly leaped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a firm hug, whispering something about being sorry again into my armor. When she pulled away, she gave a shy smile. “I would have liked to have a brother like you. We could have had so much fun with mum.” No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t avoid smiling at her. For an overly talkative Imperial-aligned noble, she wasn’t so bad. I decided to play along, messing up her hair with a couple of playful sweeps of my hand. “You better go check on your parents, they’ll be worried about you. Especially if they find out you’re spending time with the likes of me.” “Oh, I wouldn’t quite say that – mum may be a worrier, but -.” She cut herself off, displaying a level of self-awareness I was almost proud of. “I better go then.” I smiled slightly as she left, before my thoughts returned to the situation at hand. Gearbox was still out there, doing whatever it was he’d agreed to do, and now I’d possibly lost the support of House Organa because I wanted to do the right thing. What was it Garza had said, again? We make the unpleasant choices so that no one else has to? I wondered if this might have been one of the times an unpleasant choice needed to be made – protecting the Thuls had been the right thing to do, but I wasn’t sure it had been the correct one given why we were here. Even if the duke was sympathetic to our side of the story, he was going to be facing a lot of angry members of his own house because of what I’d done. We’d be lucky if he helped out at all with the final strike. Maker save me if I’ve ruined Organa-Republic relations. I heard Jorgan’s footsteps before he even came into view. “Sir, Captain Ingvar’s people are almost ready to head out.” He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “And General Garza’s asking after you. Has Duke Organa on comm.” Jorgan bared his teeth in a pained grimace. “I really ****ed things up, didn’t I?” The Cather remained silent. “But I had to stop them. I couldn’t let them do to the Thuls what the Imps did to my family. No alliance is worth that to me.” “You made your call,” he began, cryptically. “It’s the one I would have made, though. Thul’s been cooperative, the Organa troops haven’t done much. And we had to bail them out. Seems to me you were only asking them to respect your authority, too.” “Maybe. Won’t do us a damn bit of good of the Organas decide to take it out on the Republic though.” Jorgan shook his head. “You’ll be fine, Sir.” “And if I’m not? I don’t exactly have that many career opportunities if this soldiering thing doesn’t work out. “ I frowned. “And I ain’t got anything to fight for other than the Republic.” “There’s your sister,” he noted. “If what that MacTyre guy said was true.” I grimaced at that and gave him an awkward shrug as I made my way to the command center. As I got out of range, I heard him call out after me. “Besides, if you survived me for this long, I’m sure you can survive this.” It sounded like he was holding back a laugh. I glanced back at him over my shoulder and was presented with the terrifying sight of a fangs-bared Cathar smile. I returned the favor with a smirk and marched away, passing the med center as I did. When I glanced inside, Elara happened to be looking straight at me. She offered a warm smile as a flush spread across her cheeks and mine. Feeling strangely reinvigorated, I strode toward my impending doom, whistling a tune from Ithaca.

Thank you I wish I could be more reliable with my updates but, unfortunately my free time can sometimes disappear in a hurry thanks to work, other games, and shiny objects ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Revel proved to be more useful than I expected, decrypting the information that Casey Rix had provided us with in a matter of only hours. That wasn’t to say I was pleased with the man – every additional moment I spent on Tatooine was one too many – but it was less painful than I had imagined it would be. Not that I did not value a little time to contemplate what the man who called himself Vharmir had said. I was not surprised that my actions on Nar Shaddaa had caught the attention of the Republic – a Sith power play was something the SIS was bound to notice, regardless, let alone one that resulted in a cult being repurposed for charity. I failed miserably in containing a laugh at the thought of the SIS analysts that must have been tripping over themselves trying to figure that one out. It was an opportunity of sorts – to reach out to the Republic without having to abandon my mission – but it was also a danger I had not anticipated and did not particularly want to embrace. Involvement with the SIS, however incidental, would no doubt create attracting unwanted attention. If not from the Sith, then from Imperial Intelligence. Even the best of that organization were like that Chiss, Mina; pleasant enough on the outside, but cold and impersonal killers within. Vharmir P’loesti might offer me the hope of reconnecting with my past; he might also doom me to having no future. No matter. You have things to accomplish in the here and now, you cannot distract yourself with what might never be. I collected Khem from the cantina, where he had spent the previous several hours glowering at the customers while nursing what appeared to be some sort of toxic mix of radioactive materials, alcohol and what was likely to be the blood of the local wildlife. I decided it was best not to ask any questions, though; my usual policy around the Dashade. It was a policy that had served me well so far, and I anticipated it would continue to do so in the future. Khem seemed more than happy with the arrangement, in any case. I supposed that he would be comfortable with almost anything so long as he was allowed to maim and murder his way across the galaxy. The odor from whatever he had been drinking was just about awful enough to do that on its own. I wrinkled my nose and turned my face away. “Khem, I try not to intrude into your personal life and choices, but please refrain from drinking whatever that was in my presence.” <As you wish, Little Sith. Dewback urine was a delicacy among my people.> I skewered him with a sharp look out of the corner of my eye, uncertain how to take that comment. Khem was a sour creature, but also strangely fond of sarcasm. Like Ayrs had been. I frowned at that thought – my brother had been nothing like this monster that now traveled by my side. Nothing. Of course, if Khem was a monster, what did that make me? Revel was waiting for us in his room, surrounded by several trays of half-eaten food from the cantina below. I was pleased – and somewhat surprised – to not see any bottles around him. Dealing with a sober Andronikos Revel would no doubt be quite the adventure. “Tell me what you’ve learned, Revel. Make it quick – I would like to be off this world sooner rather than later.” The pirate smirked at me; I did not like that. “Ease up there, Sith. I want to talk about our arrangement, first.” I rolled my eyes and wished Revel’s assistance was not as important to finding Wilkes as it had turned out to be. The man was the very definition of aggravating, turning the simplest of requests into the most complicated of situations. I would have liked nothing more than to send his tattooed face flying into a window – or perhaps out of one – but I refrained from indulging myself and merely ground my teeth some more. “Yes, of course you do. It would not be a proper conversation with you unless you took it off on a needless tangent that wasted time.” His damnable smirk merely grew. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here, Sith. No need to get your robes all aflutter.” He eased himself back into his chair, reclining as if he hadn’t a care in the galaxy. It was clear enough, even without the Force, that he did. “We agreed to take down Wilkes together, and that then we’d go our separate ways.” “And that remains our agreement, only I have also decided to rescue Casey Rix at the end of the mission. You and she can live in happy, piratical, bliss for all I care.” “Heh.” He snorted slightly. “I’m still not convinced you won’t just off me and screw us both over. You’re a Sith.” His eyes flicked to Khem for a moment. “No offense, of course. Heh.” “And you are quite the keen observer of the world around you.” I struggled to hold back the fiery explosion I could feel within me; I had little patience for his antics, but I also knew that slicing my way through everyone that annoyed me would leave a body trail as great as any Sith’s and make me as great a criminal as one. “I gave you my word that I would not harm you; are you suggesting that I may not be entirely honest.” I heard someone sputter and was unpleasantly surprised to realize it was Khem. “I’ll think about it.” It didn’t seem like either one of us was particularly happy with the arrangement, but it would have to do for now. We began our excursion by trading our speeder in for a larger model – the dealer looked less than happy about the prospect of Khem being in the vehicle, but we were able to persuade him with the promise of a few extra credits. I let Revel take control of the vehicle – Khem’s piloting of our ship left much to be desired, and I had never spent much time behind the controls of a speeder back on Ithaca, so I doubted mine were any better. It was…strangely amusing to see Revel’s clear, almost childlike, joy at being allowed to play pilot, as well. “You seem rather happy with yourself,” I opened – cautiously. “No feeling like being at the helm of your own ship. Even if it’s some broken down speeder that should have been broken down for parts years ago.” He gave us a sardonic grin. “Especially when you get to drive around good-hearted folks like yourself.” I stifled a grin by covering my mouth with my hand and coughing loudly, a gesture which Revel did not fail to notice, though he had the sense not to say anything. <You are a fool to think that there is any true joy in frivolous activities such as this.> Khem always knew how best to be a part of a conversation. <Joy is the feeling of striding across a battlefield with a weapon in one hand and the severed head of your enemy of the other. Only then can one understand what being a true warrior means, knowing that your enemies tremble from your very presence and abandon all hope when you come into view.> “Thank you, Khem. That was very…enlightening.” Revel and I exchanged a look. “Now, if you don’t mind, I-“ I was cut off by the squawk of my communicator. Concerned, I quickly deciphered the source of the transmission – Imperial command in Mos Ila. A curious thing – they had not thought to speak with me while I had been in the settlement itself, yet now it seemed to be imperative. I sighed and activated the comm, motioning for my uncivilized passengers to keep quiet. “Yes, who is this?” “Sir – uh – Ma’am. My Lord. Lady. Uhhh.” A low level Imperial soldier, no doubt barely capable of putting his own uniform on. “Uh. I was told to speak to you by Major Dyer. Ma’am. My Lord.” The voice trailed off into awkward silence. “Please don’t kill me.” I sighed loudly. “Please refrain from saying anything until I allow for it. I would not want you to strain yourself any further.” I had not thought to familiarize myself with the command structure of the Imperials on Tatooine, largely because I simply did not care. I wondered if this Major Dyer was at all important, or whether this was some trivial matter – a local heavyweight hoping to look impressive by calling on a Sith. It would be prudent to find out. “What does your Major Dyer want?” Only silence answered me. I waited for a few moments, then realized my mistake. “You have permission to speak.” “Uhhh yes, my Lady. Major Dyer had, ummm, a situation she wished to discuss with you, in private. It regards certain Republic activities on the planet. The major was hoping you might assist us with the situation.” There was an audible gulp after he finished speaking. I found myself in a difficult position. There were no words in Basic that could accurately describe how little I cared about helping the Empire solve its problems on this or any other world. If the local garrison was so concerned that they would call upon a Sith, then it most likely meant that something had gone terribly wrong. If so, my only regret was that it had not gone worse. On the other hand, I might learn something of value – about either side, or even both. Something that might be useful to the SIS or my own plans. Information was a power of its own, and I could not deny that I was curious about what might have transpired. “Very well.” I could sense the man’s relief from clear across the planet. “I have some matters to attend to first, a private matter that is neither your concern nor Major Dyer’s. When I return, I will contact you on the appropriate frequency and we can arrange a meeting.” I let a moment go by before finishing. “Do not speak. Simply nod your head and inform the Major as best you see fit.” I disconnected from the call, making sure to silence my comm at the same time – I had no interest in risking having to hear the man stumble his way through another inexplicably butchered sentence. “Problems, Sith? Maybe I can help you out.” Revel’s leer was back, as was my desire to see him dead. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Revel. Rest assured, the matter will be handled once we return.” I flinched involuntarily at the we. “For now, just do your best not to get us all killed while piloting us to the first of Wilkes’ camps.” He snickered. “We’re already there, Sith. Guess you’re not used to having a real pilot around.” Khem and I exchanged a look, knowing all too well that the man, however distasteful, was right. I could not begrudge him for being good at his one profession I could tolerate, in any case, not when it spared us further travel time on this Force-forsaken world. The camp looked deserted from afar – unsecured, with cargo containers strewn about as if thrown around by a windstorm. At first glance, I would have assumed that that was precisely what had happened, but the scorch marks on several of them belied that easy explanation. And the corpses, them most of all. There were four bodies lined up on the ground of the largest of the tents; each felled by a blaster bolt to the head. I could still sense their fear, distant but real, and Tatooine suddenly felt like a rather cold place. Revel, of course, did not seem at all bothered by the grisly scene, even rifling through their gear. Presumably, he hoped to rustle up enough credits to buy another drink back at the cantina, though I did not deign to confirm my hypothesis. Instead, I inspected each body more closely, doing my best not to get too close to the blood and gore. The wounds were relatively fresh, only several hours old from what I could tell, and the contents that remained in the containers seemed to be items of little value – implying that their more valuable counterparts had been removed from the encampment. That suggested an attack of some kind, though it was unclear who would have been responsible for such an action. “What do you make of this, Revel?” I kept my tone light, to encourage him to be more forthcoming with any insights he might have. “Only a few hundred credits,” he replied dejectedly, shoulders slumping slightly. “Looks like whoever hit these guys took anything of value.” He spat on a couple of the bodies as he stood up. “Never liked those guys anyway, Garr and Vakar, always trying to be my best friend. Sure showed their true colors, didn’t they?” I grunted softly, trying to remember why it was I had agreed not to kill the man. “Do you believe it was Wilkes and his men that were responsible? Or was it the…what were they called, Khem?” <Sand People. A foolish name.> The pirate shook his tattooed head swiftly. “No chance, the shots are way too personal. Sand People would’ve just taken them out and left their bodies where they fell. This was Wilkes. Probably will see the same at the next sites Casey had picked up on, too.” And so we did – the second and third sites were in the same shape as first, although both of them had only two corpses left for us to find. Their bodies were even fresher, however, which suggested they had been attacked after their compatriots. I had to clench my fists and grit my teeth as we surveyed the scene – the echoes of their screams resonated in the Force...as did all of the fear and horror that they had felt in their final moments. I tried to remember that these men and women had been pirates, just like those responsible for Ithaca, but I could not find it within me to accept that wholly. Avenging those that had been denied justice was one thing, particularly when those that fell were able to defend themselves. This…this was butchery, coldblooded slaughter that was exactly what a Sith would want. And I am not a Sith. Not yet, at least. The second thought had me nearly in tears, but I realized that it was something I could never forget – the moment I assumed I Was not at risk of corruption would be the moment that the corruption began to take hold over me. Eternal vigilance was difficult, and would sometimes feel unrewarding, but it was a small price to pay for preserving my soul. “Casey did not have all that much information on the data pad she gave me. Is there anything to suggest where Wilkes might be launching these attacks from? He obviously has mechanized transport of some kind, so he could be in any number of places.” “Maybe. But if he hit that first camp before these two, I don’t think he would’ve left hostiles to his rear. Four people aren’t much of a threat, but it’s four more than is necessary.” “You almost sound like a soldier,” I offered, jokingly. He flinched at that. Noticeably. I wondered what kind of sensitive spot I had hit on. Mostly, I wondered which side he had previously served. “I know Wilkes – he was my second in command for a reason. If he’s hiding somewhere, it’ll be back in the direction of that first camp to the south. Maybe southwest, if he wanted a little more distance from your Imperial friends.” This time, it was my turn to flinch, but I had no need to correct Revel’s mistaken understanding of my loyalties – to the Empire, or anyone. Instead, I gestured at our speeder. “Shall we?” The sly smirk I hated so much returned to the pirate’s face as he returned to the speeder, keeping an eye on both Khem and me out of the corner of his eye. His presence in the Force did not so much as flicker, but I noticed a small twitch in his eye. His concern was misplaced – it was not as if we would kill our pilot before we dealt with Wilkes and returned to Mos Ila. And it wasn’t as if I was planning on killing him then, either. As we approached the first camp site, Revel began fiddling with something on his data pad. I was tempted to ask him what he was doing, but refrained upon realizing that the answer was likely to be so obvious as to be embarrassing. Instead, I found a particularly interesting series of sand dunes to the left of the vehicle and focused my attention on them instead of my companions, neither of whom seemed particularly bothered by me ignoring them. A half hour later, a building came into view – some kind of secure bunker which had no business being out there in sands; it was clearly only a few years old, and the armed sentries on either side of the entrance spoke to the intentions of its builder. I did not need to ask the obvious question. Khem, Revel, and I slipped out of the speeder and approached the building from the side. The two guards were hardly paying attention to begin with, no doubt convinced their bunker would never be attacked, that I did not even need to cloud their minds with the Force for us to achieve complete surprise. A slash from Khem’s blade and a pair of bolts from Revel’s blaster took them out quickly enough. “Wilkes’ crew. About as sloppy as I remember, too. Heh.” “Not so sloppy that they couldn’t mutiny against you,” I noted evenly, doing my best not to reveal how amused I was by that. “How many more men would he have inside?” Revel glared balefully at me for a moment before regaining his composure. “Heh. You’re funny for a Sith. There shouldn’t be too many more, probably about ten or so. Depends on if he’s killed any others.” A morbid statement, but a useful one. There ended up being eight in all; five that we killed as we quickly cleared the majority of the bunker, and two fools guarding Wilkes in his office. I felt like Khem for a moment as we strode in – the fighting had been cursory at best, and my blood was up. Wilkes was a grungy looking man, his face weathered by hard years of living, and those ugly features were twisted even further when he saw Revel. His two guards were unsettled as well, nervously running their hands over their holstered weapons. It would have made for an amusing scene were its inevitable results not so…unfortunate. “I’m gonna rip out your throat and laugh as you try to scream, Wilkes.” Revel made a slashing gesture across his throat that might have put fear into an akk pup or a small child. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” “Nicky , as unpleasant as ever.” He glanced away from Revel to look at me; I did not like the way he did so. “And you’ve brought a Sith! She’s cute.” “I am here for the artifact. If you hand it over now, things will be less unpleasant than they otherwise will be.” I slid the sleeves of my robe up slightly, already knowing what his answer would be. “If you make this difficult, you might end up looking as bad as Revel.” “Ha!” Wilkes laughed loudly, baying like a donkey in labor. “I like you. After we finish with you, I’ll urr******-“ As it happens, the human body is not properly equipped for speech when the windpipe is being crushed by a Force-sensitive individual from across the room. I reached out, lifting him off the ground so that is stocky legs flailed about in desperation. His two guards were dissuaded from taking action by Revel’s blasters, and remained where they stood. Having secured the situation, I returned my gaze to Wilkes. “I asked nicely, and you ignored it. I have no patience for scum like you, who prey upon the weak and relish being parasites. The galaxy will be a better place without you.” And anyone like you I thought to myself, afraid to vocalize something that might identify me or my pain. I used the Force to hurl Wilkes clear across the room. His collision with the wall was marked by a satisfying crack, and his lack of movement was a satisfying end to the encounter. “Remind me never to get on your bad side, Sith.” Revel was eyeing me closely, but remained in place. <You should worry more about me than the Little Sith> Khem intoned. <If you step out of line I will tear you apart so that there will be nothing left of you to distinguish you from the sands of this world.> “Uh, yeah. I’ll just look for your artifact and my blasters then.” I crossed the room with crisp, determined, strides. Wilkes’ two guards were still where we had found them as we entered, though they were now mostly focused on their former boss’ corpse. They snapped to attention quickly enough as I approached, though, clearly eager to avoid his fate. “You will surrender your weapons and be taken into Imperial custody for your crimes against the Empire and the galaxy.” I felt slightly disgusted at legitimizing the Empire’s authority in any way, but it was not as if I could find the nearest Republic-affiliated settlement and drop the two men off there. “My associate will take you in a speeder from your hangar.” The two men started toward Revel. “No, not the pirate. Khem.” I smiled innocently as I pointed at the Dashade. <I will ensure they understand their position.> I smiled tightly and retraced my steps back to the Dashade, leaning in close so no one could hear. “Scare them all you like. Just be sure they arrive alive and intact.” Khem nodded and began to saunter his way over to our prisoners. At least, what I assumed was the Dashade version of sauntering – his posture was somehow beyond proper description. When I was satisfied with those arrangements, I made my way over to Revel, who was still rummaging through some of the cargo containers and safes Wilkes had piled up along the side wall and in a pair of small attached offices. I quickly noticed the Sith artifact that Zash had been after – its twisted and cruel design left no doubt about that. Revel seemed to be inventorying the rest for valuables, which seemed logical enough for a man that had made a life out of acquiring other people’s property. “Are you ready to depart, Revel? I would prefer to leave before Wilkes begins to stink as badly as you do.” Revel merely chuckled. “Heh. You keep that up and you might want to reconsider your career choices, Sith. You might have a future as a comedian, just as long as you don’t send hecklers flying across the room.” He turned back to the box he was inspecting, while I violently squelched a giggle. I was not going to be amused by a man like Andronikos Revel. Instead, I picked up the artifact and walked a short distance away before looking at it more closely. It looked to be some kind of holocron, though corrupted by the Dark Side – I could feel its seductive tentacles trying to worm their way into me just from my first touch. There was something deep-seated to its evil, which was not surprising for an item that Zash would want, but concerned me nonetheless. It occurred to me that I had not actually done any work to investigate my “master’s” plan, and still knew nothing about why each of these artifacts was so important to her. All other things being equal, it is something I need to look into. Sooner, rather than later. After what felt like an eternity, Revel walked up with a large sack in each hand. My curiosity got the better of me. “What sort of treasure has the galaxy’s least successful pirate scrounged up this time? All of Tatooine waits with bated breath.” I was expecting and almost hoping for an angry glare, but he just laughed. “Some mementos.” He carefully ran his hands up and down his holsters. “My guns.” Then he got rather sheepish. “Something for Casey, too.” “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, and it was too late to cover for my reaction. “Perhaps we should return to Mos Ila – I…I doubt it would be good for anyone to have Khem waiting around for very long.” “Alright then, Sith.” Revel winked and gave that annoying grin of his as he swept past me and headed down the corridor to the entrance. I trailed behind him, pretending to be studying the artifact. The trip back to Mos Ila was pleasantly silent, as Revel seemed content to enjoy my obvious discomfiture. I was unable to determine anything useful about the artifact, but I could not say I had put forth much of an effort. I had not spent enough time researching Sith archaeology or history while on Korriban, instead focusing on Force techniques that I thought might be useful for the fight ahead. I did not regret my decision – it still seemed like the clearly right one – but it left my ability to analyze the strange device in my hands rather lacking. “We going after Casey after we take stock of everything back at Mos Ila?” His voice was fraught with worry, though I was unsure if it was concern about Casey, about my intentions, or both. I nodded. “I made her a promise and I intend to keep it. I will need an hour or so to take care of some things in Mos Ila, though. You can wait in the cantina again, if you so choose.” “Only if Khem keeps me company, heh.” I snorted before falling back into a contemplative silence for the rest of the trip. After we pulled into the docking facility in the settlement, I left Revel and made my way to the local Imperial garrison. Khem was waiting outside, having delivered the two prisoners. For a moment, I wondered if I had spared the men anything but a quick death they might have preferred. It was too late now, though, so I informed Khem of my plans and left a message for Major Dyer, who was ‘indisposed’. Lacking any kind of plan beyond meeting with the woman, I decided to return to the ship to review any messages I might have received. Most were rather routine – communications sent to broad swaths of the Sith order, commercial communications that urged me to purchase one item or another, and the occasional request for aid from bureaucrats I had never heard of and would never care about. More interesting was the encrypted message from Zash, which contained some information on the last item she required – an artifact on Alderaan currently in the possession of House Organa. What was most notable was the lack of any messages from Quorian, something that bothered me far more than it should have. We had made no commitments or promises…but…. Being with him is more than physical pleasure or even an emotional salve. He...I…. I did not have the words for it; the ones I might have used back on Ithaca would be wholly inadequate now. Instead of wasting time on a hopeless endeavor, I began to write out a short message to him, to let him know what my plans were. After a half hour of struggling with that, however, I realized that I didn’t have the words for that, either. I wanted him to know I wanted to see him, not merely read some words saying that I did, and there was only one – risky – way to do so. I queued up the recorder. “Quorian, hi. It’s me.” I grimaced at my own stupidity and awkwardness. “I wanted to let you know that I would be on Alderaan shortly, and thought….maybe you could find the time to meet me there. Or respond to this message, either way, it’s not that important. I just wanted to…I just thought it would be nice to see you again or hear your voice. Anyway, I-“ I cut myself off as my comm buzzed an alert. Major Dyer was ready, which meant I had to be, too. I sent back a signal to let her know I was on my way, and turned back to the console. “Anyway…I just thought I would let you know. I hope to hear from you soon. I lo-....I'd love to hear fro you.” The recorder closed with a soft click. I sighed softly, but somehow felt a little better.