Chapter 9: Party of the century


Draikor stood before his ship's main holoterminal with Vette and Draikor beside him.

"Master we're ready for our next target." Baras nodded through the hologram.

"Good, your next target is agent Kallus of Imperial Intelligence." Draikor slowly nodded.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Kallus has been a diligent agent. His position was that of a double agent within the New Republic Intelligence agency. He was stationed in their office on Nar Shadda, but unfortunately has caught wind of the situation and fled."

"Where is he now?"

"He's still on Nar Shadda. Kallus has been taken in by a rival Sith Lord, Rathari."

Draikor's interest was now peaked. His expression grew more intrigued.

"What does Rathari intend to do?" Baras held the face of his mask.

"He intends to use Kallus against me."

Draikor smiled.

"Your list of spies doesn't just include those in the Republic."

"Perceptive are we. But yes, Rathari intends to expose the spies within my rivals' inner circles. It could ultimately prove just as devastating as the reveal of my Republic spies." Darker almost rolled his eyes.

"Devastating to you, not the empire." He thought to himself.

"Kallus and Rathari must both die." Draikor's eyes shot back to Baras with his body almost going stiff.

"You want me to kill a Sith Lord."

"Yes, I do. I've been led to believe you possess extraordinary powers. Was I mistaken." Draikor almost laughed.

"I'm glad you think so much of me mast-"

"I was only joking you fool." Draikor's excitement vanished.

"Rathari would destroy you in a direct confrontation. Find a way to assassinate him." Draikor crossed his arms.

"How exactly?"

"That's your job." Draikor's frustration grew, though he attempted to hide it.

"All due respect master. I'm a warrior, not an assassin."

"Nar Shadda is just as vile and filthy as Darvannis use to be. Assassinations there are a far simpler affair. But be wary, Rathari is one of our leading Sith on the planet. He has the command of our intelligence operations on the planet."

"We will complete this task, my Lord." Quinn added with a respectful stature.

"One of my agents Rebecca Thorn is already on Nar Shadda. She's been tracking Rathari's attempts to woo the Hutt families away from the Republic." Draikor's expression changed again.

"We're trying to ally ourselves with those criminals?" Draikor sounded almost insulted on the Empire's behalf.

"The Hutts' knowledge and influence could prove decisive in future conflicts. The Republic knows this as well. Officially the planet is neutral and we're not supposed to engage in hostilities. However, since the law of the moon is the Hutts, they usually don't care if skirmishes happen away from their operations. Once you arrive on Nar Shadda, find Agent Thorn and begin planning your assassination. Do not fail me, apprentice." The hologram vanished as Draikor's fist tightened.

Vette shook her head.

"He certainly knows how to motivate you."

Quinn gave the twi'lek a nasty expression before he turned to Draikor.

"We should make haste sir." Draikor nodded.

Draikor and his companions entered the cockpit and each took a seat.

"Entering the coordinates for Nar Shadda." Quinn said.

Vette glanced over at him.

"You don't need to announce it."

"It's protocol." Quinn almost growled back.

"It's annoy-"

"Enough." Draikor's voice quickly silenced the two.

The twi'lek looked over at Quinn with more annoyance before she rose.

"I'll be in the cargo bay if you need me." Vette said as she walked back.

Draikor noticed Quinn studying the ship's navi-computer map with his usual focus.

"Quinn, why did you request to serve beside me?"

"Sir? I already explained."

Draikor's face was a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"Baras could have posted you anywhere you desired. He could have placed you in command of a cruiser, in charge of a garrison, or space station. Yet you chose to work where you have no direct authority."

Quinn slowly nodded.

"It was tempting sir, I'll admit. With Baras's influence, I may have even been given command of a Resurgent Destroyer again."

"Again?"

Quinn slowly inhaled and looked surer of himself.

"However, I owe much to my Lord Baras. He has done more for me than you might realize. Serving under you will give me the privilege of executing his direct will."

"Quinn you seem like a man devoted to the Empire. Would I be correct?" Quinn seemed almost confused.

"Of course sir. The Empire is my life." Draikor carefully considered what he was about to say.

"Quinn what I say here stays between us. It will not go to Baras, am I clear?" The heat in Draikor's voice giving Quinn everything he needed to understand.

"Of course."

Draikor slowly inhaled.

"You've served under Baras for some time. Perhaps longer than myself. I wonder if you know then."

"Know what?"

"Baras's lust for power. I've seen that it often comes at the expense of the Empire." Quinn was silent.

"Darth Baras would never…He…."

"I want you to understand this. Baras's loyalty is to himself first." Quinn eased his breath and sat back.

"I understand."

"Good." A silence fell between the two men for almost a minute. However, it was broken when Draikor handed Quinn a datapad.

"Sir?"

"Start studying this." Quinn saw it was the fundamentals of treasure hunting.

"Oh yes, you wished for me to learn of this skill."

"It's going to help finance our work. If you require me, I'll be in my chambers."

Draikor left Quinn to sit alone. Almost two hours passed and the Commander found his efforts were almost for naught. Quinn simply could not make sense of treasure hunting. It was as if he was trying to place a square peg into a round hole.

More than once he nearly tore the hair from his head. Finally getting fed up with the skill, he rose from the seat and almost stormed back to the cargo bay.

There he saw Vette still practicing her close quarters combat skills against several projected foes. The twi'lek woman had worked up a good sweat when she noticed Quinn enter.

"Ahh, the glorious Commander approached. Should I come to attention?" Her sarcastic tone and smile nearly broke Quinn's discipline.

"I require the cargo bay to clear my head. This ridiculous art of treasure hunting is driving me mad." Vette chuckled.

"Should I tell Draikor you're giving up?"

"Out!" Vette continued smirking as she walked away. Quinn took a deep breath before drawing his blaster at the hologram projectors.

The ship continued through hyperspace for another three hours. Vette and Quinn each rested after their training session. All the while Draikor rested himself and meditated. The Sith channeled his dark side aura while doing so.

Draikor once again attempted to look inside himself for the weakness Galall had so told him of. However, his meditation bore no such fruit. Instead, it only frustrated him further and further. The navi-computer's alert going off.

Draikor was joined by his companions where they saw moon ahead of them. The great celestial body orbited the much larger Nal Hutta.

Hundreds of ships flew too and from the moon past a mixed blockade. One-third of the warships were made of Imperial vessels. A single Resurgent class Destroyer rested with two heavy cruisers and four dreadnoughts beside it.

The second third was composed of Republic ships. Draikor felt his aggression grow steadily seeing the Republic ships. Vette kept a close eye, she now noticed the passive aggressive demeanor in Quinn's expression.

A Mediator class capital ship was at the center with two Liberty-class cruisers that flanked it and four Nebulon-K frigates.

In the center of the blockage were the ships of the Hutt Cartel. The ships were of no specific design or origin. But rather of any source reconfigured into a warship.

X-Wings and TIE Interceptors patrolled the space alongside the various Hutt fighters. Quinn entered in a Imperial clearance code that allowed them past the Imperial ships. The Fury soared over the almost glowing moon.

The surface was not visible past the vast amount of buildings covered in neon lights. The sky was almost consistently dark with a red backdrop to it.

Swarms of speeders flew over the streets build high above the ground. Floating structures, pleasure yachts, and promenades kept near the tops of the skyscrapers.

Their Fury set down in the nearby spaceport. The three soon walked through the bustling spaceport. Never in his life had Draikor seen so many aliens. Weequay, Nikto, Rodians, gamorrean, and Bith filled the hallways.

Most of the few humans inside the spaceport were Imperials. A few navy troopers and a trio of pilots.

Vette noticed Draikor's almost uncomfortable stares at the various aliens. The true Sith clearly doing his best to keep his composure. Vette smirked upon seeing this.

Any nearby Imperial quickly came to attention with a salute when they saw Draikor and Quinn. Vette gave each of these Imperials a sarcastic stern look and hand motion. Her amusement earned a burning glare from Quinn.

The Commander's fist tightened.

The three eventually reached the speeder pad where a trio of droids distributed speeders.

"According to Darth Baras, agent Thorn's office is located on the main Promenade." Quinn added with a nod from Draikor.

"Let's go." Draikor entered the coordinates on one of the droids' datapad.

"Very good, enjoy your stay."

The three climbed inside where Quinn and Vette both attempted to sit in the shotgun seat beside Draikor.

"What are you doing?" Vette started.

"I'm taking my seat in the front."

"I'm sitting here, I have seniority."

"Seniority! I'm a Commander!" Quinn's all to militaristic tone nearly grading on Vette's red skin.

"I'm not one of your little soldiers!"

"Incorrect terminology! Soldier refers to a member of the army. I'm an officer of the Imperial Nav-" Both were silenced again upon seeing the fire in Draikor's eyes.

Without a word spoken from the apprentice, both of his companions jumped into the two back seats. Draikor returned to the flight controls before lifting the speeder into the air.

Any silence that would have existed between them was taken by the sky around them. Countless speeders soared beside them joined by music players upon nearby pleasure barges. The air felt less than desirable. The muggy skies were filtered by large machinery across certain buildings to make the air more breathable.

Vette began to smile again as she looked at the streets and buildings around them.

"The Smuggler's moon, it's been too long." Vette's face held longing memories in her expression.

Draikor noticed this with a slight smile.

It took a few minutes, but the main promenade finally came into view.

The floating structure was square in shape with a few anti-gravity antennas beneath it. Two pleasure barges were docked on its sides as well as vast numbers of speeders.

The promenade like the other buildings was lit up in neon lighting of various colors. Immediately upon landing, they were greeted by the promenade's inhabitants.

Various smugglers, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and arms dealers traversed the side walkways. The three made their way past them towards the inner promenade. Draikor noticed most of the bounty hunters and mercenaries wore the insignia of the Hutt Cartel despite having armor of various origins.

Once again, Draikor gazed at the assortment of aliens around him while attempting to keep his composure.

It didn't take them long for them to reach the center of the promenade. From the upper levels, they could see the entire center pavilion. A colossal and continuous party that happened below.

The center holding a great statue made entirely of solid gold which depicted a Hutt. Around it were fountains of water lit to appear as liquid gold itself. Expanding out were four dance floors covered in expensive rugs and partying patrons.

The air boomed with bellowing music played by live bands and droids serving refreshments.

Vette looked at the party longingly until she saw Draikor moving down the walkway. Soon they reached the lower levels. Their path eventually led them past the parties. Among those at the party were other forms of servants.

Humanoid alien men and women adorned in scantily clad attire. The women even more so than the men, most being barely covered by tops and rectangular cloth over the front of their private areas and backs of their behinds. The sides like most of their skin revealed.

Most of the aliens were either twi'lek or mirilan. Draikor's glance went to a few of the twi'lek women with particular interest. His eyes then turning to Vette who gave him a less than approving look. Draikor, however, found great amusement in her expression.

Quinn kept his disciplined poise while he walked past them. The Commander not giving a second look at any of them. That was until his eyes caught a young human woman among the dancers. Her skin fair like his own and her hair a thick raven black that extended just to her neck. Her eyes a deep brown and her body shape in an elegant manner.

His stern appearance slowly breaking down upon staring at the woman. His eyes dazzled by her appealing dance. As her dance continued, the young woman noticed Quinn staring at her. Quinn nearly froze seeing her stare back at him.

Quinn tried to look away, but his eyes remained frozen on her somehow. The young woman gave Quinn a smile which turned his face a shade of red. Quinn finally noticed Vette as she covered her mouth to hold in the laughter.

Quinn's face turned an even deeper shade of red as he turned away.

Draikor's eyes, meanwhile, were fixed on the galactic market near the edge of the lower levels. Beyond the market, Draikor's eyes widened when he saw the insignia of the Republic.

Republic officials and soldiers worked around the offices with the presence of three other individuals. These individuals nearly made Draikor's blood heat up.

Three Jedi stood amongst the Republic officials. One human, a torgruta, and a Miraluka adorned in tan robes with their lightsabers on their sides.

Draikor attempted to ease himself. As much as he wanted to face his enemies now. Draikor restrained himself despite the intense aggression which grew inside him.

His eyes soon found a more welcomed sight. Directly across from the Republic embassy, was the Empire's embassy. Dozens of Imperial officials, officers, and agents moved about the section. Draikor grew even more eager when he saw a pair of human Sith spar with each other near the entrance to a training area.

The trio made their way through the embassy. Just like the spaceport, any military personnel came to attention for Quinn and Draikor. Quinn himself saluting a Navy Captain and Army Colonel.

Eventually, they found agent Thorn's office before them.

"Alright let's see what she has to say. Hopefully not much." Vette said as Quinn glared back at her.

"You want our job to be that much more difficult?

"I want to stay here as long as I can." Quinn would have said something back but remembered Draikor's growing frustration and kept silent.

Vette smiled, even more, seeing his restraint. Draikor, however, could sense something was wrong. His companions grew anxious seeing him draw his lightsaber and carefully motion them forward.

Draikor's lightsaber soon illuminated the room even more so than the lights already there. The office appeared relatively simple in design. A few potted plants rested along the sides leading up to a desk.

Resting on the ground in front of the desk was the corpse of a woman. Her body stiff and cold with a cooled blaster bolt in her back.

"Damn it. That's not good." Vette started until Draikor held his offhand out. His eyes scanned the room thoroughly.

"I know you're there." A certain sharpness in his tongue.

"Come out and lower your weapons, and I promise you'll live." Draikor was met with a charged blaster bolt. His lightsaber sent it away as a Mandalorian revealed himself.

The human in blue armor fired rockets from his wrists while his jet-boots kept him high in the air.

Draikor's hand swept out. The force-carried each rocket harmlessly into the wall as shrapnel bounced off the Mandalorian's armor.

Vette and Quinn attempted to join in but were taken soon by two Imperial operatives who decloaked with their weapons raised.

The two drew their weapons while rushing to the side and narrowly avoided the blaster fire of the operatives.

Vette dove further with her pistols ripping out a barrage of fire. The operative attempted to dive in a similar manner. But two of the bolts ripped into his stomach.

Quinn similarly moved while firing. The operative attempted to send a flame drone behind Quinn. But the Commander snatched the drone and hurled it back. The fire sent a fierce singe into the operative's torso.

His screams were silenced by a quick shot to the head from Quinn.

Once the rockets had stopped, Draikor lept up. The true Sith able to see the terror in the Mandalorian's eyes before his lightsaber sent the warrior's torso across the room and his legs to the other end.

Draikor landed and gave a deep exhale.

Quinn looked over agent Thorn's desk with a heavy sigh.

"All the data has been wiped clean. Undoubtedly the work of Lord Rathari. He's quite good." The Commander showing great concern while Draikor crossed his arms. The true Sith's face deep in thought while he considered his options.

"I'll contact Darth Baras immedi-"

"You will do no such thing." Quinn looked back at Draikor with confusion.

"We'll not tell Darth Baras of this?" Draikor's face turned fiercer.

"I won't go running to my master because of a complication. We need to find Rathari, we'll do it ourselves." Draikor turned to Vette.

"You spent time on this moon before?"

Vette's smile returned.

"There isn't a smuggler who hasn't." Draikor slowly nodded.

"Good. I want you to speak with the other smugglers and any other contacts you may have here. Get us information on Lord Rathari." Vette nodded in satisfaction.

"I can do that." Draikor turned to Quinn.

"You will do the same with the Imperial forces here. Someone has to know where he is."

"Of course sir."

Draikor slowly inhaled.

"I will see the Sith here. Report back at the end of the planet's rotation." Quinn gave a respectful bow and departed after Quinn. Draikor came back out and through the embassy until he found the Sith section of the embassy.

As he had seen prior, a number of Sith sparred in set up areas within the section. Draikor looked around the various Sith in the section. Most were human, with a Zabrak and true Sith amongst them.

However, his eyes lit up upon seeing an all too familiar banner within the section and another three true Sith waiting inside.

Draikor's eyes went to a Sith Lord adorned in black and grey robes of the same design as Darth Baras's. She stood before a desk that held a Sith Holocron. The ancient device glowed with a red aura as the Lord meditated before it.

"Are you a member of the Red Reaper?" The Lord's head not turning to face him.

"I will be." The confidence in Draikor's voice and the aura that surrounded him backed up such a tone. The Lord began to smile.

"You desire more power, good." The Lord speaking in a subdued but powerful tone. She turned and revealed her face. The woman was in her early thirties with somewhat long hair that was a lighter shade of red than her skin. Her chin adorned with two claw-like appendages.

She had a muscular demeanor to her. Looking around Quinn's size, though still smaller than Draikor.

"I'm Lord Sarrick, master of the Red Reaper on Nar Shadda." Lord Sarrick's stare at Draikor grew more curious upon closer examination of his face.

"What's your name apprentice?"

"Draikor."

"Your name, and your face. They seem familiar." Sarrick stroking the tendrils on her chin.

Draikor felt his muscles tighten. He attempted to hold his demeanor.

"I trained with Lord Galall on Dromund Kaas. He led me to believe I could train with other members of the Red Reaper."

Upon hearing Galall's name, Draikor noticed a certain stimulation in Sarrick's face.

"Ahhh yes, my dearest Galall." Draikor noticed the desk again and saw a handheld holo-projector display. The display being of Sarrick with none other than Galall as well as three children in their arms.

"He didn't mention he was married."

"Oh my dear boy, he's not my husband. He's my mate." The fiery manner in which she spoke nearly shook Draikor. His eyes glanced at the other true Sith across from them. Both gave Draikor an almost foreboding look and warning.

"Come now Draikor, we have training to do." Sarrick almost pulled Draikor into one of the sparring arenas.


Draikor stripped down to his trousers while Sarrick got into a similar sparring attire covered by a top. Just as Draikor suspected, her body was coated in muscles almost as thoroughly as on Draikor's body.

She pulled two sparring sabers over with the force. An all to anxious look on her face while staring at the younger Sith.

"When we're done, no Jedi will be able to stand against you." Her smile only sent more fear through Draikor's being.

Her feral attack nearly broke down Draikor's defenses on the opening strike. Sarrick growled with her successive blows. She moved faster than Galall, and perhaps more aggressively. Though Draikor knew Galall had held back more for the sake of training. Sarrick had no such restraint.

Despite his best efforts, Draikor found himself on the receiving end of many blows. The pain from each blow was sharper than Galall's, though held less overall impact.

Draikor was taken back by Sarrick's unrestrained power. The apprentice felt ever more relieved it wasn't her Baras had sent him after. Her skill and power dwarfed that he had felt in Lord Grathan.

The sparring went on for two hours with sweat and bruises growing steadily across Draikor's body. Sarrick refused to give a reprieve to Draikor during the session.

Even with sweat and blood beginning to haze his eyes, Draikor refused to be beaten completely. Despite every blow, he had remained standing and continued the fight..

Sarrick's expression grew more eager seeing his resolve and impressive skills. While Draikor had taken a number of blows, his defense remained mostly intact. Sarrick's next blow was caught and brought up by Draikor's counterblow.

He thrust his offhand out and nearly sent Lord Sarrick into the wall. The blow of force energy took her by surprise. But Draikor wasn't satisfied yet, he charged through the air and brought his saber down. Even with a counter blow with her saber, Draikor's power brought his saber down and across her face.

Sarrick tasted blood in her mouth and satisfaction finally reached Draikor. However, it was short lived. Sarrick raised her offhand and delivered a steady beam of violet energy.

Every bit of strength and stamina Draikor had left was stolen. The apprentice forced to one knee in a manner that almost reminded him of his Dark Rage's aftermath.

Sarrick stood over Draikor. An excited look covered her face.

"More than impressive. You fight well young warrior. Galall taught you well.

"I wasn't expecting you to use Death Field, my Lord." Draikor attempted not to groan.

"Exactly why I used it." Draikor slowly nodded.

"I merely mean I wasn't expecting it from a warrior." Sarrick's smile turned to a chuckle.

"Yes, such power comes more naturally to a Sith Inquisitor. But any force user may learn it with the right amount of training."

Draikor forced himself to his feet.

"Teach me then." Sarrick's grin widened.

"Let us begin." Sarrick had a droid bring in a cage of whomp rats.

"You must be tired, draw strength from these creatures." Draikor held his hand out and focused his aggression. His face grew more and more visibly frustrated. The squeaks from the rats almost sounded like they were mocking him

"Focus your lust for their strength to feed your own, your hunger for more power."

Draikor continued for several minutes, eventually, he noticed the other two true Sith begin to spar across from them. He then remembered why he had come to the embassy in the first place.

"Lord Sarrick. I've noticed there are quite a few of us Sith here on Nar Shadda of all Places." Sarrick slowly nodded. Her earlier zeal vanished with frustration of a different kind.

"Yes. Did you spot those Jedi amongst the Republic embassy?" The apprentice slowly nodded.

"Jedi from the Keepers of Wisdom. I've long kept my eyes on those preaching fools."

"I've heard some of us are here to woo the Hutts to our side. Like Lord Rathari."

Sarrick nodded.

"Indeed. Rathari has long hoped to bring the underworld into our midst. He's made all sorts of plans."

"What kind of plans?"

"Well, from what I hear Rathari has recently taken interest in non-Hutt partners as well. One in particular. Have you heard of the Zann Consortium?"

Draikor carefully nodded.

"I've heard the rumors. An underworld crime syndicate that has spread corruption through the Republic and even worlds conquered by us."

"Indeed, they have even come to challenge the Hutt Cartel. From what I've heard Rathari may have convinced their head to join him."

Draikor's eyes turned to Sarrick with intrigue.

"Join him?"

"Yes, indeed. Rumors of course."

"Does Rathari ever come here?"

"Rarely, I can't remember the last time I saw the pale human show his face here. Though his apprentice occasionally visits the embassy for training. That is when the fools not indulging himself in every pleasure this planet possesses."

Draikor's interest grew ever steadily. His face trying to hold a smile back.

"He has an apprentice?"

"Milvan, he's quite powerful for a human. But as I said, he often overindulges in activities of pleasure. Why are you so interested in Rathari?" Sarrick's face grew suspicious. Draikor, however, remained unshaken.

"I simply need to know my way around Nar Shadda. Who holds what power and how." Sarrick slowly nodded.

"Do you know when Milvan might come back?"

"Hmp, after tomorrow it could be weeks."

"What's happening tomorrow?" Draikor's entire body nearly turned to Lord Sarrick.

"He's attending a party in Lord Rathari's place with the leadership of the Zann Consortium on their pleasure yacht."

"Right here among the leaders of the Hutt Cartel? That's quite bold." Draikor almost impressed.

"Tyber Zann is bold. He also believes himself un-killable. He's survived over a dozen bounties on his head large enough to buy a planet."

Draikor turned back to the whomp rats and thrust his hand forward again. His hand upside down and his fingers nearly kept together. The true Sith focusing on his hunger for strength and stamina above all. A staggered orange beam struck the nearest whomp rat. The creature squeaked again as the dark force power ended its life.

Draikor felt some of his strength and stamina return. Though not much. Sarrick approached with a fierce grin.

"Force drain, the first step into Death Field."

"It was weak, it barely killed a rodent." Draikor shook his head in frustration.

"You have learned the basics of the technique. Now all that's required is practice and focus."

Draikor continued the practice for another few hours. By the end of the day, Draikor sat with Vette and Quinn inside one of the promenade's inner cantina's.

The loud music and flowing chatter of the other patrons soon drowned out by Draikor's presence.

"What have you learned?"

Both Vette and Quinn tried to speak, but Draikor's body still reeked of sweat. Vette coved her mouth and nose.

"What were you doing?"

"Collecting information while increasing my power." Draikor said proudly.

"Could you have taken a bath too."

"Information first."

"I've spoken with many of the agents and officers here. Unfortunately, I discovered almost the entire intelligence agents here are under Rathari's direct control. Not only that, but a number of underworld organizations here answer to him as well." Quinn held his hands clasped together.

"He's not wrong, a lot of the Smuggler's here talk about him planning on uprooting the Hutts and replacing them with criminals loyal to the Empire." Vette added.

Draikor slowly inhaled.

"I have learned that his apprentice is attending a party tomorrow with a crime lord named Tyber Zann."

Vette almost fell out of her chair.

"The Tyber Zann! As in master of the Zann Consortium!" Draikor slowly nodded.

"I assume then we're going to capture the apprentice." Draikor sat further back thinking about what Quinn said.

"Sith do not break so easily under pressure. Pain and terror fuel the dark side."

"So we kill him them." Vette said. Draikor slowly nodded.

"Doing so may draw Rathari out. Make him more predictable."

"In any case, this won't be an easy thing to do sir. Tyber Zann will have an army of bounty hunters and mercenaries guarding him. We cannot go to our other forces here for help. It could be quite dangerous."

Draikor tightened his fist.

"We'll find a way. First, we need to find out everything we can about this party. We know it's tomorrow and on a pleasure yacht. Vette this sort of information will suit you better. Find out what you can." The twi'lek nodded.

"I'm on it." Vette said getting up.

"Quinn keep asking around for information. If you can't find any, work on that map. Don't stay up late either. We'll need to be ready for tomorrow." Quinn carefully nodded. Less than optimistic about working on the map again.

Draikor left the others to rest in the embassy after his long day of training. The following morning, he joined his companions for breakfast inside the cantina.

Draikor feeling refreshed after a good nights sleep and meditation. The true Sith swiftly eating his breakfast of eggs and cooked meat. Draikor was taken back by how good this cantina's food tasted.

"Mmm, this is good Muja fruit." Vette commented.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yep, apparently the party's tonight near the Red light district. Zann's Yacht is bigger than any other on the planet. Hundreds are going to be there."

"Are invitations required?" Vette shook her head.

"You have to pay is all I hear, unless you're a close friend of Zann. Also, no weapons allowed onboard." Draikor smirked.

"It won't be a problem."

"Ok, I know you're a powerful Sith and all. But we shouldn't walk into this guns ablaze." Vette raised her hands.

"I hate to admit it, but she's right sir. Zann will undoubtedly have a large number of the best mercenaries and bounty hunters in the galaxy aboard his yacht. I have no doubt you can fight your fair share of them. But with a Sith apprentice leading them. We should plan this out." Draikor clasped his hands and slowly nodded despite his reluctant look.

"There must be a way."

"Come on evocii, you can get a drink later." A familiar voice said. Draikor's head shot to where he heard the voice. His eyes widening upon seeing none other than Bakoren with Mako and an evocii.

"Alright, alright sheez. We have hours until Zann's party." The alien shook his hands and head before being led into a back room.

"Bakoren."

Draikor led his companions into the backroom where they saw the evocii standing over a crate with Bakoren and Mako behind him.

"Uhh, boss." Mako said pointing to Draikor. The Chiss's red eyes met Draikor's with a smile.

"Well well well, look who's here."

"Bakoren, you're looking well." Draikor noticing a set of new scratches and burn marks upon his armor.

"You too Draikor." The two men clasped hands for a moment with eager smiles.

"You remember Vette. This is my new companion, Commander Quinn."

"A pleasure to meet you." Quinn extended his hand.

"Navy officer huh. I'd shake, but former army and all." Quinn's eyes widened.

"Former army?"

"Stormtrooper special forces. Free-lancer now."

"He's a friend. We've helped each other several times now. I understand you're attending Zann's party."

Bakoren crossed his arms.

"Who told you that?" Draikor turned to the evocii.

"I heard him." Bakoren drilled holes into the alien's head with his glowing red eyes.

"Alright, alright I'll be quieter!" The alien defensively holding his hands up.

"What is Zann to you?" Draikor asked.

"Hmp, my target here for the Great Hunt. This evocii works for the Hutts, and is gonna get Mako close to Zann for me."

"I'm masquerading as Zann's entertainment coordinator. Rotta the Hutt wants Zann dead and is gonna make us rich once he is." Draikor's excitement rushed through his face.

"The force has brought us together again Bakoren. I'm also after Zann, or rather a Sith apprentice with him." Bakoren's eyebrow raised.

"Really."

"Indeed, I want him captured if possible. But dead if not." Bakoren nodded.

"We've helped each other before. This could be dangerous, I wouldn't mind having you with us. But Zann has to die by my hand. I want that clear." Draikor nodded.

"He's all yours. I won't interfere with your hunt."

"Alright, looks like the Sith and Chiss are working together again. For the glory of the Empire." Bakoren laughed.

Quinn was almost surprised by this.

"Hey, I may be a bounty hunter, but I'm still a patriot." Bakoren said while he smiled.

The evocii noticed Vette with interest.

"Yes, her presence could help even more."

"How exactly?" Vette asked with suspicion. Bakoren looked back at the evocii. It was soon clear even Bakoren didn't know what his plan was.

The evocii opened the crate and revealed what was inside. Vette's eyes widened in horror.

"No! No! No! No! No! No!"


Draikor waited with Bakoren, Quinn, and the evocii in the back room until they saw Vette emerge from a supply closet with Mako. Both women adorned in the same slave attire as the other dancers on the promenade.

Quinn nearly smirked in a smug fashion seeing the embarrassment on Vette's face. Draikor's expression held a certain appreciation, though not in the manner of Quinn's. Bakoren's blue face began to show shades of red. His eyes trying not to stare.

"I'm only doing this because you took the shock collar off!" Vette's usual defiance weighed down by clear embarrassment. Her slender figure mostly revealed alongside Mako's.

"I must admit Vette, you're even more beautiful than I thought." Draikor said. Vette's face turning slightly to hide her bashfulness. As well as the growing different shade of red than her skin.

"Mako, you don't have to do this. Vette's enough." Bakoren slowly approached her.

"No, this could be our only chance to get Zann. It's not that big a deal." Mako's words brought Bakoren to a careful nod.

"Just be careful." The Chiss planted a short kiss on Mako's cheek followed by a bashful giggle from the woman.

"Speaking of which. Explain your exact plan to me evocii." Draikor said as he turned to the alien.

"It's simple, I'm not allowed near Zann. But I'm to bring his entertainment to the party. These two can sneak in with the others and find out exactly where Zann is. Then use these secret communicators to contact us with Zann's exact location and what security he has." Bakoren stroked his chin.

"That could work."

"Where would these communicators go exactly?" Vette asked with a certain intensity.

"Oh, these are top of the line sweetheart. They go in your mouths, like this." The evocii demonstrated by placing one on the inside of his cheek and handing an earpiece to Bakoren.

"Can you hear my handsome voice?" The alien said with a smile.

"I hear words." Vette and Mako both chuckled as the evocii lowered his head.

"Anyway, there's nothing too it."

"And what about self-defense?" Draikor asked with a steel look. The alien almost backed up as Draikor slowly approached.

"I'm not putting Vette at the mercy of a crime lord and Sith apprentice without any means to protect herself." The twi'lek behind him showing almost surprised relief of her safety.

"Yeah, I agree." Bakoren now crossing his arms and standing beside Draikor. The evocii nearly shook under their fiery stares.

"Ok, ok. I may have something. Hold on." The evocii went back through his crate and took out four dancer gloves that seemed almost identical to those worn by the women.

"Another new product for Hutt agents. Specifically, those who can appeal to a person's biological desires." He put one on and quickly clasped his hand together.

Bakoren noticed a subtle but unmistakable spark on the palm of the glove.

"Observe." The evocii reached for Bakoren, but the Chiss snatched the other alien's hand and forced it onto his shoulder.

"Ghaaaah!" The evocii convulsed violently with electricity before falling to the ground.

"See, very effective." The evocii groaned while on the ground.

Draikor and Bakoren slowly nodded. Vette almost smiled when she saw the effect of the gloves.

"Alright, let's do this then." Mako said.


Draikor sat with Bakoren and Quinn on a speeder as they soared through the air. Bakoren glanced over at Quinn who as now adorned in the black armored tunic of an Imperial operative similar to the kind Cipher 9 wore. He also noticed Draikor still in his heavy Instigator armor, only now covered by a black cloak to cover it.

"Look, I know you like the armor and you're proud to be an Imperial. I liked wearing my old commando armor too. But isn't this a bit, conspicuous."

"No need to worry. Rathari controls most of the Imperial agents on Nar Shadda. I won't draw attention."

Bakoren turned to Draikor again.

"And you?"

Draikor smiled under his hood.

"I'm assuming during your time in special forces you worked with a Sith at some point."

"Uh, yeah. All the time."

"Then you must be aware of how persuasive we can be." Bakoren began to understand what Draikor was talking about and replied with a slow nod of his head.

Their vision was soon ensnared by what lay ahead.

A colossal pleasure yacht soared over the skyscrapers below. The yacht dwarfing any Draikor or Bakoren had ever seen. The craft was larger than a corvette class warship in fact. A sprawling main deck in the center with neon lights, music, and other attractions emanating from the craft along multiple levels.

Half a dozen smaller barges were connected along the side with dozens if not hundreds of speeders docking on the smaller barges.

"Vette can you hear me, we're about to land." Draikor touched his earpiece as he spoke.

"I hear you. We're about to land too, and it can't be quick enough. This evocii is a creep, I almost shocked him twice."

Draikor smirked.

"Ease yourself. You'll be away from him soon."

"Yeah, not soon enough. I swear he keeps staring at Mako too."

Bakoren tightened his fist.

"Remind me to shoot him when we're done." Draikor nodded slowly.


Vette and Mako sat in their slave attire with half a dozen other women. Vette and Mako looked carefully at the faces of these women. The younger ones looked almost frightened. Those a little older seemed almost empty. Like beasts who had been broken by a trainer.

Vette and Mako both felt knots grow in their stomachs seeing them. They also felt a twitch of fear in their own bodies upon seeing the great yacht ahead.

Vette carefully checked the power on her glove's shocker.

"Alright, ladies we're here." The evocii announced upon landing near the stern of the yacht. Their speeder parked on a small landing pad where a pair of Nikto mercenaries stood guard.

Both aliens were large and heavily armored. Each carrying a large blaster carbine and two sidearms. Their bodies covered in thick red armor with the skull like sigil of the Zann Consortium.

The evocii got up with his eager expression and approached the mercenaries.

"As promised good sir, eight of the finest specimen on Nar Shadda. I'm sure Tyber and his friends will enjoy every momen-"

The first Nikto grabbed the evocii's hand and dropped a small stack of credits. His intense gaze nearly shook the smaller alien.

"Alright, I see my job here is done. Ladies, your new master awaits." Vette and Mako got up with the others and slowly followed them past the Nikto where they saw another man clad in the same red armor await them.

"This way, no talking." The man said, his helmet added a thicker presence to his voice.

Vette saw the large carbine on his belt and explosives. She attempted to calm herself as they walked through the hallways of the yacht. Noticing at least a dozen other mercenaries in smaller yellow armor patrolling the halls.

This portion of the ship was not at all like either had imagined. It wasn't furnished or appealing to the eye. It was cold, even more so with their current attire. It's structure resembling more of a military vessel than anything else.

They were eventually led to a large elevator, where two more of the red armored mercenaries awaited. Vette noticed one was a twi'lek man, the other a twi'lek women.

Vette carefully watched the woman in particular interest. The mercenary's expression was nothing but cold apathy as she watched the other women loaded in.

When the doors shut, Mako soon noticed Vette's glances at the twi'lek mercenary and the growing passive-aggression in her demeanor. She attempted to shake her head at Vette, but it was too late. The twi'lek woman bashed Vette across the back of the head.

"Don't think I didn't see that you little schutta. Keep your feelings to yourself." The mercenary said in thick twi'lek.

A sharp pain filled the back of Vette's head and lekku. She clutched her teeth and attempted to hold the frustration inside her.

When the doors opened they saw their final destination. A series of furnished chairs and couches rested around two tables.

The room overlooked the main deck almost like a private box of a theater. Vette's heart began to race upon seeing what or rather who waited for them.

Four individuals waited for them inside. Two were human men and two aliens. The first sitting closet to them was a younger man in his mid to late twenties. His skin fair, though a bit tanned. His eyes a thick yellow from the dark side's corruption.

His body seemed smaller than Draikor's or Quinn's, though not too scrawny and was covered in a black inquisitor's robe with a lightsaber on his belt.

The man who sat on the next chair was older. Perhaps in his mid-forties with long white hair and green eyes. His face worn and scarred while his stocky body was covered by a brown jacket with a fur-lined hood.

Flanking him was a woman in strange brown garb. Her skin as white as snow with black coloration around her eyes that matched her messy hair. On her side rested a lightsaber-like device. The last alien was larger than any others. His body covered in fur with a beak like extrusion that came from his face and large blades held from his arms.

Mako recognized him as a Talortai warrior. Her skin almost crawled.

"Yes! They're finally here!" Milvan nearly roared. His voice was exuberant and over-excited.

"Come here!" Milvan shouted even louder. His hand reaching out to the nearest woman. Vette and Mako attempted to hold their composure as they watched the Sith pull her in and took his pleasures.

The Sith was aggressive in his approach. However, the woman he took seemed to be among the passive ones.

Vette noticed his pupils were slightly dialed and a hint of blood sat on his right nostril. Vette could smell a familiar scent on him. She saw the residue of red dust on his robe, Vette soon put the picture together.

The other human waved over one of the other girls. One of the frightened ones. Mako and Vette forced to watch as she was dragged to him by one of the mercenaries.

Her eyes almost teared up when she saw the man's imposing gaze.

Vette had to look away as she saw him grab the woman by the neck and take his pleasure in a much more brutal manner.

"If you two are done getting off, there is business to get to." The woman said.

"Hold on." Milvan said as he waved over one of the serves adorned in the same attire.

She quickly poured a little spice onto the table before Milvan sniffed it up and shook.

"Yes! That's the Emperor's fury right there!" Milvan exclaimed while bursting force lightning into the air.

"Silri's right I'm afraid." The man now took his hand off the young woman's neck.

"Your master had an offer for me?"

"Ohh yes Tyber, Lord Rathari has the utmost respect for you and your criminal empire. He says you were just as responsible for the Galactic Empire's fall as the rebels." Zann smiled.

"I don't know if I'd go that far. But he certainly can. Though I will admit corrupting that empire was far easier than yours. My web of corruption has barely made any progress into your planets. You Sith are quite good at keeping my influence back."

"Sith are invincible!"

"Sith are arrogant." Silri proclaimed while she stared at Milvan. The apprentice wasted no time and blasted her with force lightning. The woman shrieked and collapsed to the ground while the Talortai stared at her in amusement

"I don't take such insults from a mere night sister!" Milvan proclaimed while he stood up.

"Right my dear." His hands returned to the woman under him.

Zann paid no mind to his night sister companion.

"What did Rathari have in mind?"

"With our agents and intelligence, he can help you dismantle the Hutt Cartel. You would take their place and provide us with similar intelligence against our enemies. The Republic would be yours to weaken and corrupt as you saw fit."

Zann sat back and took a glass of juma with a satisfied smile.

"Perhaps. The details would have to be worked out, and my methods would be my own."

"My master doesn't discriminate. He'll let you do what you have toooooo! Hold on! Somethings up! I sense a disturbance in the force!" Milvan nearly jumped to his feet.

Vette and Mako's pulses began to rise sharply. Both women trying to keep themselves calm.

"Yours so high on spice you-" Silri started.

"No, he's right. I sense it too." The Talortai almost hissed.

Tyber looked around cautiously.

"Urai, Silri. Find Bossk and IG-88. Have a look around." The two departed with Mako quickly tapped her tongue against the communicator.


Draikor walked with Bakoren and Quinn up the ramp towards the main deck. The three pushed through the other guests until they reached two large Weequay mercenaries guarding the entrance.

"No weapons allowed." One grumbled out while looking at Bakoren and Quinn.

"We can take our weapons in, we've been given permission." Draikor subtly moved his hand in front of him.

"They can bring their weapons in, they were given permission." The Weequay said before he moved to the side with his partner.

Bakoren slowly nodded as they walked in.

"Can't tell you how handy that trick would be in my line of work." Draikor touched his earpiece.

"Vette can you hear me?"

"Yeah, sorry if I'm whispering. The guard doesn't want us to talk."

"Have you found Milvan and Zann."

"Yeah, they're in a private box near the southeastern side. He has a few guards, including a Talortai and a night sister."

"We're on our way."

Draikor led the three through the intense party which had already begun. Hundreds of patrons around them dancing, drinking, smoking spike, and taking physical pleasure with the dancers, men, and women.

Quinn's nose curdled from the stench of spice, alcohol, and bodily fluids. The blasting music from multiple bands was nearly deafening and the lights nearly blinding.

"This is chaos. The very kind we should stamp out."

Draikor gazed with a certain level of similar disgust. Chaos and aggression could be exciting. But those around him were living only in the moment. Each only lived for short term pleasures of the flesh.

"I've seen better parties myself." Bakoren said.

"What are Chiss parities like exactly?" Bakoren smirked.

"Better than this, I assure you. But I was talking about special forces parties."

Draikor smiled back.

"I shall endeavor to attend one." As the three made their way towards the southeastern portion Quinn saw a familiar face.

His eyes shot to the young dancer who he saw earlier on the promenade. Her dance once again captivated his eyes in awe and delight. However, his excitement was soon dashed by a large patron who forced himself onto her.

Even from his distance, Quinn could smell the stink of alcohol and spice on him as he forced himself against her.

His fist tightened as he considered intervening. However, his military discipline kicked in and forced him to stay his course. The Commander remembered his mission. However, his curiosity kept him watching long enough to see the young woman's face turn irritated and then focused.

Her eyes watched his belt closely until it was close enough to her hand. The young woman carefully pressed a trigger on one of his devices.

Draikor and Bakoren soon saw a speeder fly out from one of the barges and crash into one of the upper streets.

"My speeder!" The drunk patron screamed as he ran to the edge of the barge. Dozens began to laugh as the dancer gave a satisfied gaze.

Quinn's expression grew more and more intrigued.

"Boss, we have a serious problem." Bakoren heard Mako shout as best she could in her subdued tone.

"Mako are you ok?"

"It's not us, it's you. The Sith sensed you guys coming and now his goons are on the patrol. If they see a true Sith and Chiss they're going to know something's up."

"We'll get there as soon as we can. Just stay calm and safe." Bakoren put his helmet on and looked over at Draikor who also heard.

"We better move."

"Right." Draikor nodded.

However, it wasn't a moment later that they were surrounded by bounty hunters and mercenaries. Well over a dozen led by a trandoshan in a yellow flight suit and an assassin droid.

"Going somewhere." The trandoshan hissed.

"Tyber Zann has orders for us to terminate you." The droid said.

Bossk hissed again.

"He doesn't like party crashers." Draikor smiled.

"I don't care." His cloak flew off as he hurled the trandoshans and his half of the men back with the force.

Bakoren sprayed fire around the other bounty hunters. Many yelped in pain while they retreated. IG-88, however, snatched Bakoren in his metal arm and lifted him up while the other arm raised a blaster.

Bakoren grunted but kept his cool. He pressed his right fist against IG-88's chest. A small emp device began to short out several of his circuits. The robotic hand released Bakoren who flew up.

"You're overrated, droid." Bakoren let off a charged blast into IG-88's chest plate followed by a wrist rocket. The blast created a sizable hole in the droid's body, large enough for the rocket to pass between before it exploded.

The nearby bounty hunters were then peppered by the flying shrapnel that was IG-88.

Draikor saw Bossk rise up first and rip off rounds from his blaster rifle. The true Sith easily deflected the rounds and then ripped the rifle from the lizard's hand with the force.

Bossk attempted to draw a pair of blades, but soon fund their worth when Draikor's lightsaber cut through them and his torso.

The rest of the bounty hunters and mercenaries soon resumed their attack. None gave any mind to those who continued the party around them. The explosions and stray blaster bolts cut many of the guests and staff down.

Panic began to ensue from those close enough. But the party's overindulgence kept most of the guests distracted even from the explosions and death.

Bakoren gunned down the rival bounty hunters one by one with relative ease. The Chiss almost disappointed at their level of skill compared to his.

Draikor similarly found ease deflecting the blows from the bounty hunters. His lightsaber sent their various bolts back at them while the force itself sent their wrist rockets back to their senders.

A twi'lek mercenary flew up over Draikor with two guns drawn only to find both of his pistols snatched away by a swift pull of force energy.

The mercenary attempted to hurl a thermal detonator, but draikor snatched the alien with the force and dragged him into the ground. A resulting explosion taking several patrons with him. For a moment Draikor felt a bit of regret. Those who died around the mercenaries had not been his enemies.

Quinn quickly backed up the other two with his carbine drawn. The Commander placed a precise shot into a devaronian's head.

A Zygerrian mercenary drew two pistols and unleashed his fury on Quinn. However, the Commander dove to the side with two quick shots. The mercenary's life ended with two hot bolts.

The last of the bounty hunters were swiftly cut down by Draikor's lightsaber. Bakoren cracked his neck while he placed a new charge back into his pistol.

"I think they know we're here."

"We need to move fast."

The three hurried through the half-panicked and half-distracted crowd.

"Are they still there?" Bakoren asked.

"For now. But Zann's considering leaving."

"Let us know if-"

"Look out! Draikor roared. Bakoren's eyes widened as he saw a Talortai emerge before him.

A Talortai's blade scraped the chest of Bakoren's chest plate. The Chiss barely soared back in time with his jet boots.

Draikor similarly turned in time to catch a yellow lightsaber whip with his lightsaber. Across from him stood a night sister witch.

"You were foolish to come here Sit-" The woman started until Draikor pulled her into him her own whip.

The true Sith's armored fist punished Silri with not only its sheer impact but the surge of red force lightning.

Silri's lightsaber whip retracted as she regained herself. Draikor's confident gaze meeting her irrupted expression.

Bakoren ripped a series of blaster bolts from his pistol at the Talortai warrior in front of him. Urai, however, quickly retreated back with his stealth field generator. Bakoren attempted to use thermal vision, but the sheer amount of patrons around them made finding his target impossible.

"Damn it." Bakoren grunted as he turned thermal off.

"Come out and figh-" Bakoren jumped back, again barely avoiding the Talortai's blades. Urai followed up with two swift strikes. Bakoren activated his armor's wrist blades. The Chiss swiftly striking back against them. With an opening now exposed, Bakoren burned a sizable hole into Urai's shoulder.

With a grunt, Urai vanished again.

Draikor kept Silri's lightsaber whip back with ease. Her weapon's effectiveness clearly sacrificed for the intimidation factor.

The witch reached out with her hand and drew two nearby tables at Draikor. The apprentice thrust his hands out and sent the tables away in pieces. However, Silri was now ready and unleashed a punishing force surge.

The ensuing pain filling Draikor with a similar sensation as Lord Sarrick's Death Field. Despite the immense pain, Draikor's rage allowed him to reach out and sent Silri through the crowd. He charged through the air in an attempt to end her, but she pulled an innocent patron in front of her first. In vain though, Draikor's lightsaber cut through them both.

More frustration coming through Draikor's face upon seeing another innocent forced into his warpath.

As all this happened, Quinn unleashed as much fire as he could against a group of incoming mercenaries.

The aliens cared little for the lives of those between them and their enemies. Their blaster bolts and explosives carving a bloody path through the guests and slave dancers.

Quinn used his close quarters combat skills to duck and weave away from the incoming bursts. His right hand carrying a flash-bang into the air.

Three of the aliens dropped their weapons and cried out with their senses going white. Quinn eased his carbine into position. The aliens were then dropped with three quick shots.

The Commander was a bit surprised by disorganized the counter-attack was. His answer soon given to him at the sight of fiery explosions near the approaching mercenaries.

The young dancer who had caught his eye was now behind a fallen bartender's station. She kept herself in cover while waiting for a precise moment. Once she saw it, a bottle of alcohol found its mark around one of the mercenaries.

The sparks from their blasters setting the alcohol off and engulfing the aliens in flames. Quinn smiled as he realized she was keeping them from massacring more of her fellow dancers. But more than that, she was also keeping the pressure off his team.

However, Quinn's eyes widened when he saw a pair of Zygerrian approach her.

Quinn felt his teeth clench as he considered intervening. He had to remember his mission. But then again, this young woman's actions were helping their mission.

One of the Zygerrian's grabbed the young by the neck and lifted her up. The other saw Quinn just in time for his blaster bolts to cut down his companion.

The second Zygerrian attempted to grab Quinn's arm, but the Commander struck the alien's arm with a swift blow of his carbine stock.

Quinn's hand snatched his opponent's offhand and swiftly twisted it around his body. In the same motion, Quinn sent the alien tumbling onto the ground and put down by a swift blaster bolt.

Bakoren jumped back upon seeing Urai reemerge. His wrist blades barely managed to catch the Talortai's own blades. The chiss attempted to move back, but to his horror, he noticed the blaster mark on Urai's shoulder had completely healed already.

Bakoren saw the blades move slowly closer to his face and forced his flame-thrower on.

Urai backed up again and cloaked himself.

Bakoren quickly ascended into the air with his jump boots and fired a wrist rocket directly below him. The ensuing blast brought Urai off his feet and onto the ground.

The Chiss descended fast. His flamethrower covered the Talortai in a blazing inferno.

Urai hissed and thrashed about. The smell of his burning fur complementing the sight of his flesh coming off the bone.

"Nighty, night." Bakoren grunted. His charged blaster burning a sizable hole in the Talortai's face, which finally ended his life.

In the private box, Vette saw the ensuing fight below with the others. Zann's eyes widened as he finally stood up.

"Come on Sith, we're leaving!"

Vette turned to Mako who nodded. The twi'lek sparked her gauntlets before she shocked the twi'lek mercenary woman with both hands.

Moving as fast as she could, Vette snatched the woman's blaster and shot the other mercenaries. Zann and Milvan turned just in time to see Mako thrust her hands into their stomachs.

Both men convulsed before plummeting hard into the deck below. Milvan was up fast due to the effect of the spice. Tyber following suit, but his face taken in by a terrifying sight.

Directly across from them waited a true Sith warrior and an armored bounty hunter.

"Milvan, I'll give you this one chance to surrender." Draikor smiled as he spoke.

"Graawww! You ruined my night! Die!" Milvan's hands unleashed a torrent of force lightning at Draikor.

The true Sith attempted to absorb the blow with his own lightsaber but was too late. The sheering pain of the lightning coursed through his body. Though not nearly as intensely as that which he faced under Joruus on Dromund Kass.

Draikor focused on the pain surging through him and focused his hatred forward. With a thrust of his hand, Draikor sent Milvan across the deck. The human apprentice barely able to raise his lightsaber in time against Draikor's.

Bakoren flew over Zann with his wrists unleashing death from above in the form of rockets. Zann fired a scatter-plasma burst that tore through the incoming rockets. The blasts ripped apart Bakoren's jump boots and sent him hard into the ground.

The wind leaving his body as Bakoren grunted upon impact. Tyber raised his gun to finish the Chiss, but a torrent of fire rushing at him sent him into a retreat. Just like Urai, Tyber vanished.

Bakoren grit his teeth upon noticing his destroyed jump boots. His eyes furiously gazed around with thermal vision. Luckily for him, the earlier fire-fight had killed or dispersed most of the crowd and Zann's signature came into view.

Bakoren unleashed his grappled around the man and pulled him forward. Zann unable to raise his scatter-blaster before the iron fist of Bakoren broke across his chin in an uppercut.

Draikor furiously counter struck against Milvan's lightsaber blows. The inquisitor's lightsaber nearly sent into the air more than once by the power behind Draikor's blows. Despite the effects of the spice, Milvan fought with impressive ferocity.

"Die!" He screamed like a beast. His fist meeting the ground and sending electrified force energy through the air. Draikor found himself lifted up and back by this strike. Milvan furiously followed this with more force lightning.

Once again, Draikor felt the burning pain of the force lightning tear through his muscles in excruciating pain. A crazed look in Milvan's eyes as he laughed.

Draikor, however, would have none of it. Focusing his passion and aggression, the true Sith rose again to his feet and met the laughs with a shaking force scream. The impact of the force power broke Milvan's attack.

Draikor had just enough time to charge back into the second apprentice and slap his lightsaber down. With the path clear, Draikor stabbed his saber clean into Milvan's stomach.

Milvan convulsed, his hands reaching out in a final desperate attempt to use force lightning. This effort was only in vain though, as Draikor's lightsaber cut him in half with another swift strike.

Bakoren counter Tyber's strikes with fast movements of his elbows. The crime lord was good, but Bakoren was better. He caught Tyber's arm in a bar and brought himself around the side. In this swift motion, Bakoren not only hurled Tyber over his side, but he also heard a satisfying snap.

Tyber grunted in pain and then saw his own scatter-blaster aimed at his face. Bakoren coldly stood over him.

"Perhaps I could persuade you otherwise." Tyber smiled in an arrogant manner.

"Whatever you're being offered, I can triple it." Zann's expression looking more confident than any Bakoren had ever seen before.

"Everyone has a price."

"No." Bakoren replied so coldly it almost sent a shiver down his own spine.

For a brief moment, Bakoren saw something in Zann's face that he never expected. It wasn't just any kind of fear. It was more pathetic than the lowliest slave or servant. Zann's illusion of invincibility gone, and reality staring him in the face.

But only for a moment, the scatter-blaster took Zann's head clean off. His blood splattered into Bakoren's armor.

The chiss removed his helmet and blew the smoke emanating from the barrel of the gun.

"You did it!" He heard from across the deck. Bakoren turned to see Mako running at him with her arms out. His smile grew as he lifted her up in his arms and twirled Mako around.

"You killed Tyber Zann!" Mako stroking his cheeks.

"Hmp, I couldn't have done it without you darling." Bakoren planted a warm kiss on the woman's lips. Her face turning red and her eyes closing.

Draikor pulled a communicator from Milvan's corpse, as well as his lightsaber.

"Gotcha too!" Vette shouted from behind. Her arms wrapping around Draikor with her gauntlets about to touch him.

"Easy there. The last man who shocked didn't end so well." Draikor proclaimed with a smile.

Vette laughed as she revealed her gloves were disarmed and continued to hug him.

"Mission complete then?" Draikor nodded in satisfaction.

"Indeed. Well done up there."

"Thank you. I also have to say that I've come to appreciate my situation here and my original slave position more after seeing what I could have become." Vette said while she almost shook.

Draikor examined the communicator closely as Vette noticed Quinn helping the young dancer up.

"Are you quite alright? If you're hurt I have a bacta-" Quinn's speech was cut off by a swift kiss by the young woman. The commander was taken completely off-guard. His arms held out, his face red, his speech muffled, and his legs wobbling.

Vette covered her face in a smirking manner while Draikor attempted to open the back of the communicator.

However, he was nearly jumped upon seeing an image appear before him. The image was of another human. A large human, around Bakoren's size with an armored jacket around him. Cybernetic implants on his face around the cheek and above the right eye.

"Milvan what's going on out there. I'm hearing reports of a battle on Zann's Yacht." The Man's eyes widened as he saw Draikor before him.

"You! You're Baras's apprentice." Draikor's grin returned. The true Sith intrigued, and cautious at the same time.

"Lord Rathari I presume." Rathari's face contracted with resentment and lament.

"I assume Milvan is dead then."

"Yes, as is Tyber Zann." Rathari slowly shook his head.

"Zann could have been useful. Milvan had his flaws, but he was an eager apprentice none the less. I will enjoy exacting my revenge on you."

"I'm not the one hiding." Draikor trying to sound confident despite the underlying angst of confronting a Lord of the Sith.

Rathari smirked with a chuckle.

"Your master has made you arrogant. I control what happens on Nar Shadda, not him. If you face me, you would do so alone. Kallus is mine now, and soon all of Baras's secrets as well. I would flee while you still have the chance."

Draikor's gaze turned to steel, enough to contain any fear he held.

"A true Sith does not run." Rathari's smile widened.

"Good." The hologram vanishing as Draikor stared with immense intensity at it. Vette beside him holding a similar expression.


Author's note

As I said, this will be a bit different than the game, but I hope you like a change of pace

Not every chapter will be this long either don't worry

So until next time,

Please review, comment, suggest or ask(VIA PM)