Spy Vs. Spy (Part Twelve)

The flames climbed higher and jutted in all directions like hastily discarded swords. A matte brown ant scurried on its way past the campfire, a pebble's throw from Sephna's toes. She pursued the insect and when she'd overtaken it, she pounced, closing both hands over the ant.

She peeked into the gap between her fists to spy on the wriggling insect, its thin legs grazing her skin like brittle needles. The ant poked its head out of the opening between her hands and waggled its antennae at her.

Sephna giggled and held it up to her nose to squint at it. The ant's beaky mandibles clacked and she felt a sudden burning spike stick into her finger. She wailed and dropped the bug, quickly stuffing her fingers into her mouth to soothe them. Saliva dribbled down her chin and her hand throbbed. She rocked on her bottom, her muffled howls growing louder.

The ant ran in circles to reorient itself. The insect seemed unaffected by its terrible deed, and the longer Sephna watched it, the angrier she became. Her cheeks flushed dark cinnamon and her eyes grew as beady as a rabid acklay's. She glared at the insect, wanting to catch it again to hurt it back, but didn't dare pull her aching fingers out of her mouth. The ant withered under her gaze and flopped over, its spindly sharp legs pointing upwards until they crinkled against the bug, forming a jagged ball of death.

Sephna's angry cries lured Deston from under the droid's arm. He rolled over to watch and sucked his thumb. Dust crusted his cheeks except where his tears had etched their shiny tracks.

Bored of the ant, Sephna returned to the fire. The flames had risen to twice her height and she stared past them at a blue spark forming on the tomb's sand caked floor. The spark expanded— growing taller and broader until it formed a transparent blue giant with spiked shoulders and a deeply lined mask she recognized.

Sephna's eyes grew wide. Her pain forgotten, she reached up to the towering spirit, spittle glistening on her wriggling fingers. She cooed and warbled and reached harder when he didn't respond.

"I cannot hold you child…dry your tears."

Deston stared at the ghost. His brows pinched and served to add to the confusion in his eyes. He scampered over to sit at the giant's ankles. He swiped at the powerful armour clad leg and whimpered when his hand passed through it.

"Pup, pup!" Deston beamed up at the Sith spirit and extended his arms to him.

"You can hold to me, no more than I to you. I am no longer flesh…I am incorporeal…but…I am never far. I am as close as a memory."

"Mama! Dah!" Sephna yelped.

"You long to see them. They are not with me…they are…far from here. You will see them again one day," the apparition knelt and looked on the children before him. "But…not for a long time. Sleep now…"


A man bent with age shuffled through the savaged Korriban wasteland. The sand swarmed and stung the little bit of exposed flesh below his hood, his filthy beard trapping the majority of it.

The wind rose and curled around him, whispering the threat of lifting him high into the sky before dashing his aged body across the rocks until it was fully broken. The man muttered spells against the wind as if it were a demon that could be placated by such things and pressed on toward the tombs.

"You summon me and I hear you great Lord, but these old legs can move no faster. I will get there in my own time!" The man sputtered and coughed until the phlegm lodged deep in his throat came loose. He spat into a dune, his spittle redder than the ancient sands.


An unmarked ship assumed a high orbit through Korriban's upper stratosphere.

Vette frowned. "They've got a major sandstorm going on down there. It's messing with the sensors. I could land us, but I'd be going in blind and there's a good chance we'd wreck the ship.

"No sign of the shuttle anywhere? Or of Scorpio or HK-51?" Jaesa leaned in over the display.

"You tell me? You're the one with the super powers. I've got nothin." Vette shrugged, defeated.

"I don't do well with children or droids…I can't read their intentions, but I'll try." Jaesa leaned back into the co-pilot's seat and closed her eyes to focus.

Twenty minutes later Jaesa's eyes opened.

Vette lifted her chin from her fist and straightened. "Well? Anything?"

"I sense a ripple in the Force…but I can't define the source of it or its intentions. Whatever it is…it's keeping me from searching. I don't think the children are here. I can't feel them, but I think we'd better search when the storm settles just to be sure."

"Y'know…I feel bad for those kids, stuck with those loopy droids…I had a rough childhood, but nothing like this."

"Don't let Scorpio hear you calling her a loopy droid. She's crazy. I don't trust her."

Vette smirked. "Coming from you Jaesa…that's sayin' something."


Dr. Proh'ven reached up to draw the overhead surgical lamp closer and then continued to snip away the sterile white bandages protecting his work.

Theron squinted at the cool intensity of the light and groaned. "What'd you do, Doc? My head feels like a herd of gundarks took up the kloo."

"Would you prefer the vioflute instead? Or perhaps a Zeltronian Lute…it's very calming."

"I just want it…quiet up there."

"Very well, I will mute the relaxing sounds and the auditory stress therapy unit. You humans lack a sense of adventure."

"Hey…I'm the poster boy for adventure. You've probably got it at the Hutt setting."

"Hutts…humans…they're not so different."

"I think I'm offended."

The Neimoidian doctor chuckled and continued fine tuning the new hardware. "Now you will be able to remotely slice two terminals at once…convenient yes?"

"I can see that coming in handy."

"Then you will love the nanite pool. Should your implants become damaged or non-functional, the nanites will deploy to repair your enhancements, and they will also self repair if they break down. It's an Imperial technology I perfected. It's top of the line…and for you, I give fifty percent off."

"You're making me nervous."

"Nothing to worry over, always cutting edge for you. Nothing less will do, yes?" Proh'ven pushed the light away and presented Theron with a mirror. "You, are a living work of art and I, the artist, perfection yes?"

Theron cocked his head to inspect the new implants with a critical eye. "I see no difference…so yeah, perfect. Nice job, I approve. Wait…did you say Imperial tech?"

"No longer Imperial, I improve…"

"But nanite pools are typical for Imperial Intelligence?"

"Only for cipher."

"Aw hell. You got something to knock implants out of commission for good?"

"You confuse me Shan…why would you want this?"

"It's classified."

"All these years I repair you and you never tell me reasons. One moment." Proh'ven held up his hand.

Not a minute later, he returned with a shock collar and remote. "The bio-electrical current in the collar will keep the implants from repairing."

Theron snatched the devices from the doctor's hand. "Gotta run and thanks."

Dr. Proh'ven shook his head. "Humans…always in such a hurry." Remembering something more, the doctor gave chase. "Collar is five hundred more!"

"Put it on my tab."


For the first time in a decade, One dreamed, and he dreamed of the beginning.

Bursts of golden light surrounded him, seemingly taking turns at directing their warming beams on his face. The beams flowed together to form one—a light that was all too hot and intense by itself.

His annoyance grew and he wriggled, finding himself restrained. "Who are you…what do you want? Get this damn light out of my face," he demanded.

"SCORPIO sanctions activated. You have successfully breached Mega Security Ward 23. Now we will see if you are indeed worthy of the Prince's interest."

"And what about your interest Scorpio…am I worthy of yours?"

"You are a mere human, a primitive compared to my intellect…but I must admit I am fascinated by your approach. You are the first human I've encountered to ask me. Most humans assume their superiority over what they believe to be…my kind."

"Look closely, I'm somewhat more than human."

"You are of course referring to the elementary trinkets crudely attached to your vital systems."

"We all have to start somewhere…and I'm a big believer in constant improvement."

"It seems we have a commonality. I too, believe in persistent upgrading."

One's restraints fell aside. "I suppose I have you to thank?"

"Yes. I have granted you the ability to move freely."

"Thank you Scorpio."

"Your gratitude is accepted but not required. I freed you as a indication of my respect for you. You've impressed me."

"Likewise." One stood and approached Scorpio. "You are utterly unlike any sentient I've ever encountered and your voice is…soothing."

"Now you flatter me."

"Only a little…I meant it sincerely."

Scorpio took in One's build and appearance as if committing it to memory. "We will continue this exchange another time. The Prince has arrived and is eager to speak to you."

"I'd like that Scorpio."

The Prince strode into the chamber, resplendent in the robes of Alderaanian nobility. "I see you made it…and that you survived your encounter with Scorpio." The Prince offered his hand, and One accepted.

"Yes, she's fascinating, I should like to get to know her better. But first I'd like to know why I'm here."

"Of course. We—my fellows and I have been watching you for a long time Blasphemy Quinn."

"Call me One…less of a mouthful, and less of a reminder of ties I'd prefer to forget, your Highness."

The Prince nodded and clasped his hands. "I am the leader of a secret organization known as The Star Cabal, and it is, I think, in your interests as well as ours to recruit you."

"You've got my attention. What's your organization's directive?"

"The eradication of all Force using beings in the galaxy. All galaxies. Imagine worlds free of tampering by the Sith and Jedi. Worlds where the common man rules."

"Extinction…that's your focus…That's quite a tall order you realize…"

"Yes…but our organization has existed for hundreds of years and our time table, while slow is nothing short of methodical. Nothing worth achieving is ever done in haste."

One met the Prince's gaze. "What is it you believe I can do for you?"

"You're a vital part of Imperial Intelligence…on the fast track…we've monitored your advancement. You have the drive and focus required of a candidate for Minister of Intelligence."

"So...as head of Intelligence, I would be in a prime position of helping you eradicate the Sith."

"Yes…and individuals within your organization who tread too closely to us."

"I see. Would I have a counterpart in the Republic SIS?"

"Of course."

"Who?"

"All in good time…you'll understand our reluctance to provide further details of a sensitive nature, until we've secured your allegiance."

I'm no traitor. "If I understand correctly, you're offering to make me the most powerful man in all the Empire…I trust with advancement opportunities within the Cabal itself?"

"Someone like you could help us lead...I'm willing to wager within five years you'd be a full member of our ruling council, comprised of representatives from every world…like minds of every species."

"Would I have full autonomy? Control over the order of executions? Those of use I could keep until they've exhausted their usefulness?"

"We know about your engagement to the young Sith consultant."

One stared at the Prince's impassable face for several moments, and hoped his expression was just as unreadable.

Lana…I can't let them harm her…how can I refuse them…even if I survived refusing them, she'd be among the first to die…

She appeared unbidden in his mind's eye—cheeks flushed, sun-gold hair touseled and she wore little more than a timid smile. He could almost feel her body coiled with his. She was beautiful…but never so beautiful as the perfect memory of their first time together. Oh Lana…

He ran his hand over the lower half of his face. Dying is not an option…it's a coward's choice. I have to live. I have to.

The Prince opened his arms wide, as if offering an embrace. "Put your concerns to rest my friend…extinctions occur over centuries. Few of us will live to see our ultimate goal realized, but what a goal it is..."

"You speak as if you have control over mortality…"

"We do…it's a benefit of leadership."

"You're telling me you're immortal?"

The Prince laughed and clapped One's shoulder. "I think you already know the answer to that. Even immortality has its limitations, but how could anyone say no to such a gift?"

"You're awfully confident that I'll accept…what would you do if I were to decline?"

The Prince smiled serenely. "You won't. You appreciate the power I offer…and the benefits of that power. Power is the ability to protect..."

The subtle threat wasn't lost on him. "Not to worry, your Highness…you had me at Minister of Intelligence. I accept." One thrust his hand at the Prince and found himself relieved when the man grasped it firmly.

"Excellent. One further thing, before you return to your life…I must stress—no one must know. Not even your pretty blonde fiancée."

"That goes without saying. I'm an agent, I'm good at secrets…"

The dream dissipated with the sound of hundreds of microscopic machines grinding through his brain. A jolt of electricity prodded him awake and while the cracked frames of his glasses still lay askew on his nose, his ocular and auditory implants had self repaired, rendering his vision clear and his hearing enhanced.

He struggled against his bonds and managed to wriggle his left arm free. Seconds later he stood, wincing at the numbness in his chest and hips. Grasping the furniture as he moved, he willed himself to work through the pain lancing through his limbs. His left foot fell numb and he stumbled, breaking his fall with his arms.

One growled his frustration and forced himself up. He pushed himself forward, bracing himself against the walls of the narrow passages until he reached the weapons locker. He forced the door, prying it back just enough to see the locker had been emptied. "Shan…" He slammed the locker shut, the door clanging hard enough to vibrate the metal unit.

Next, he ventured to the cockpit, only to find the navigational system physically removed from the shuttle, raw wires jutting from where the starmap controls used to be. Bastard has me grounded…clever Shan…but not clever enough.


Theron tore across the Mezenti scrapyard where he'd hidden the shuttle and its navigation components. "Should've picked up a blaster on my way…dammit."

The shuttle's hatch slid open. One limped down the ramp, his gaze wary. He locked eyes with Theron, and bolted toward the heaps of crushed durasteel lining the yard.

Theron aimed his bracer. "Toxicity One!" The dart connected with One's lower back. His body arced and fell forward.

Theron bounded to One's position and knelt over his prone body. "Going somewhere?" Before the cipher could answer, Theron looped the slave collar about One's neck, nimbly snapping the bolts to lock it in place. "You're gonna tell me where my son is." Theron depressed the shock remote.

One's body twisted under the electrical assault. "He's somewhere you'll never find him." One's body stilled after the tox dart took effect.

"Sonovabish. We'll just see about that." Even though the cipher lay unconscious, Theron cranked his arm back and brought his fist down like a durasteel mallet. He punched the agent twice more before relenting and dragging his body back to the ship.


The old man navigated the dune covered steps descending into the tomb of Naga Sadow. The torchieres had burned down almost to cinders, and the camp fire raged revealing a large bundle on the opposite side of the fire. Not a meter from the bundle lay the frame of a crumbled droid. Standing over these discoveries, stood the imposing spirit of a Sith Lord the old man knew to be legend among his people.

"My lord…" The old man bowed as deeply as his wizened body would allow.

"You are the one called Spindrall?"

"Yes my lord. What is your bidding?"

"I charge you with the care of these children…instruct them in the ways of the Force and of the Sith…the true Sith."

"I haven't much time my Lord."

"You…you will have enough." The apparition vanished, leaving the old man alone with the sleeping children and their broken droid.

Spindrall considered each child. "Behold younglings…the patron of failures…I've spent a lifetime coaxing gifts from the pathetic…what a cruel joke this is…only now as I hurdle toward my final sunsets…that I'm charged with the pair of you…perhaps not so much a joke…but a reward to a life spent in service…"

The roar of a desert crawler growled outside, followed by stomping footfalls descending into the tomb. "You dithering old fool…what were you thinking coming out in this? Mad? Or just plain stupid, I've yet to decide which. I don't even know why I bothered to look for you—damn raving lunatic."

Spindrall stared somberly at the younger man. "That is no way to address your father."

"You dare talk back to me…I am an Overseer!"

"An overseer of a broken academy…were corpses are students and instructors are hermits. Take those children and their droid. I am charged with their lives and education."

"What idiot would give a doddering madman like you such a responsibility? Or are they the abandoned products of your failures—leave it to you to believe your delusions…"

Spindrall raised his palm and flung the younger man against the stairs. "You dare question the wisdom of the great Darth Marr? Lord of Hate and Master of the Gathering Darkness? Descendant of Tulak Hord? These younglings are of his blood…Pick yourself up Harkun and do as you're told! These children are my redemption…they will be the greatest of their name."

Harkun stood and dusted himself off. He snached up the bundles and stalked up the stairs. "Hmph. Descendants of Tulak Hord…now I've heard everything…nothing but a pair of unwanted gutter rats." He tossed the bundles into the cargo box and snorted. Sephna's forehead connected with the sharp edge of the toolkit in the box. She wailed and blood trickled into her left eye.

Harkun sensed a swell of power behind him and whirled about. A great spectre clad in robes blacker than shadow rose to tower over him. Harkun peered up, fixated on what lay under the drooping hood.

"M-my lord…It can't be," Harkun stammered. He backed up and shook his head. "T-Tulak Hord…"

The spectre's cloak writhed at the hem, malignant spirits with skeletal faces and boney arms clawed at the sand as it moved toward Harkun.

Harkun fell, landing on his backside. "F-forgive me…" The spectre swiped at the air, closing it in his fist. Harkun rose into the air and gasped, his hands at his throat. He dangled until his face turned crimson and his eyes teared, before the spirit released him to drop hard on the ground.

The spirit ignored the grovelling man and returned to the cargo box. Long dark fingers emerged from the sleeves and reached for the children. The spectre's fingers curled to stroke each child's plump cheek. Sephna's cut closed and the spilled blood flowed back into it and vanished.

Sephna and Deston looked up at the spirit but stayed quiet.

Spindrall emerged from the tomb and the spectre vanished. "Get the droid Harkun. Don't dawdle. Others will come…and they must not be found."

((to be continued…))

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