( This is my 1st FanFiction. It's starts in The Old Republic game's era but will end in the Clone Wars. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Will also be posting this to my DeviantArt account as well. Feel free to visit! )

Prologue

The ship was old. It was an ancient design from before The Republic established hyperlanes to dominate the galaxy. It had been refitted many times since its birth and had been lurking in uncharted systems long before the fall of the first Sith. Its purpose was always the same: being a meeting place for the oldest and most secretive of organizations. Now, it no longer needed to pick up its charges.

A single light flashed in an unlit room, and an ancient droid woke up from standby to press a dusty, worn button. The droid's faded visor twitched to watch as holoterminals arranged in a circle and sparked to life. Status lights flashed from to red to green, one by one, as their owners displayed their readiness to receive the call. Eleven green indicators blinked briefly before the projectors all shimmered to life at once. Dust puffed up from the dormant cooling systems, turning the holos smoky as air began to flow once more.

Hooded figures stepped into the view of most of the projectors. One remained blank and one was too distorted with static sparks to properly view. The thin figure with a single purple light under his projector was the first to speak, and he simply stated, "Ah, 6. Your connection is poor. No matter. We can deal with this event if you wish to go."

The distorted 6'es voice was harsh and broken by interference, but there was still an audible, "I… remain… connected."

"Very well, 6. Onto business then. 2, you had something to report?"

"Yes, milord," a hulking figure replied, his two purple lights flickering as he took the floor. "It's come to our attention that The Wrath and his accursed sidekicks have stumbled onto the tail end of our plots. He certainly doesn't know more than that we exist and have plans in motions."

"How could this be?" a voice cut in sharply, his eight lights flaring up with his tone. "Even the Council respects The Wrath because of his blunt and straightforward nature."

"The Wrath is the toughest son of a whore I've ever seen," answered 11 quickly. "The Dark Council is wary of him."

"Even you?" asked 9.

"I have seen him crush a challenger's skull through his helmet and his shield generator with only a single, back-hand strike. Yes, I am wary, because he could kill both you and me. We must tread carefully," 11 responded in a clipped tone. "And while the Wrath is quite clever, more so than most give him credit for, I do not believe it was he who discovered us. It—"

"Who then?!" 8 snapped.

"…I know you must be used to the Senate and all of their blowhards, but if you interrupt me again, I will dispatch my assassins." 11's voice was dangerously calm as chuckles sounded from some of the other projectors. "I think… No. I know who it was. The Spectre."

Hisses of annoyance and displeasure replaced the snickers. "Don't you mean the rogue imperial agent who snatched the Black Holocron from our fingertips?" 7 snorted with a distinct and female tone.

"And whose fault was that?" 2 barked back in his own, annoyed tone.

"It was hardly my—"

"Silence," 4 hissed over the bickering, and the room fell quiet for a short moment. "11, if you please…."

"Yes, thank you, 4. Now, The Spectre, The Wrath, and The Twins have been thorns in our sides with their simultaneous assents to power. But, I believe we have a way to… remove them from the equation. 9? Yes, the floor is yours."

"Thank you, 11," 9 replied softly with a feminine voice. "Recently, a small Jedi expeditionary force traveled to Belsavis under an old sage's guiding visions. They landed not in the valleys, but on the southern pole." She paused to glance at her comrades, but no one stirred, and she continued. "The sage spoke of a great and ancient evil sleeping there. Naturally, the fools went to investigate it. I do not know how, but a council member's apprentice was tied to this expedition." 9 tilted her head up and back just enough so the others to see the predatory smile creeping along her face.

"However, just after landing, communications with the expedition were mysteriously lost. Only a single apprentice miraculously survived the tragic accident." Laughter slipped through the hidden lips of 9's companions. "My sad tale aside, I found something on the pole. It appears to be an ancient Rakata facility. It is manned by an AI and an army of maintenance droids."

"Really, a Rakata AI?" 10 asked excitedly, her voice pitching up with enthusiasm.

"Indeed, 10. But, that isn't the most interesting thing about this particular place. Instead of being a vault prison like the rest of Belsavis, it seems to have massive stasis generators. A Rakata General and his top lieutenants are held there, waiting for a timer to finish counting down to unleash them on our galaxy once more. That clock is 75.8 hours away from finishing." 9 purred her last words, her grin still visible.

"And what good does that - Ah…."

3's sigh of understanding was drowned out by 5's outburst. "What, 3?" he inquired with a snappy tone, his impatient boredom clear to everyone.

"It's no surprise that someone who has modeled himself after a battle axe isn't grasping the plan," 3 said with a cool jab, countering her comrade's hot question.

"Woman, you dare in-"

"Do shut up, 5," she barked back before he could finish his raging line. "Isn't it obvious? Feed these rumors of this artifact to The Twins. They cannot resist exploring old tombs. Then 6 can drop information about the threat to SIS and the lost expedition to the Jedi. The Spectre will intercept and confirm the information. All four will head out to the site and kill or be killed by the Rakata and if all else fails, we slice the generators to trap those bastards until the fusion death of Belsavis's star destroys the entire planet!" She finished passionately slamming of her fist into her open palm.

"Yesss…," 4 hissed as the other figures muttered their own agreements.

"9? Would you be so kind as to-"

"Already done, milord," she replied to 1 quickly.

Her hasty interruption was paid no mind as a grin curled his invisible lips, the motion evident in his voice as he only said, "Good." He paused to appear to glance at one of his companions. "I think a… bonus is warranted. 9, we shall discuss the details later in a private call."

"Gladly, milord."

"Very good. Now then, let us remove our greatest adversaries. HA-73? Copy this call and forward it to 6 so she may begin spreading this information." The ancient droid whirred an acknowledgement and poked its spindly fingers at its console to complete the command.

"When the Shades of Fate meet again, may it be freed from the restraints of the Four Thorns and unleashed upon the galaxy!" 1 cried as the others lifted their left fists, clenched in a tight fist for a salute before their terminals blinked into darkness as one.

The archaic ship plowed on, linking briefly to a comm-relay to send a data burst off into the holonet's darkest untraveled channels. It made a sweeping, slow turn before flashing out with a bright wink as it jumped into hyperflight, its destination unknown and its passing unnoticed.