A/N: I've always been drawn to the idea that no matter which side a person is on, they believe they are in the right. The Forged Alliance flashpoints gave me a fun opportunity to explore this concept. So here we go.

Mass Offensive

Korriban
Republic Ground Team

Korriban was the reddest planet that Cormac had ever seen. The Sith planet boasted a complete lack of foliage according to what little information the Republic had been able to gather. Cormac leaned out of the open door of the drop ship, holding tightly to the railings above, and marveled at the rocky terrain below. Intel also claimed there was little in the way of native fauna, just a couple species that nightmares were made of, namely the monstrous scorpion-bugs things with a lot of teeth. Elara called them Klor'slugs, claiming they were fascinating. No one else agreed with her.

Over all, Korriban was depressing, drab, and dead. No wonder they trained Sith here. Cormac hefted his weapon, noting the added weight of his new slugthrower. Fynta and Jorgan had insisted that everyone in Havoc switch to the heavier weapons for this operation. Even the boss had traded in her ugly rifle for the more potent model. They had studied up on Force users after facing down the Sith on Voss, and the commanders had deemed that luck killed Lord Torius. Skill had nothing to do with it. Metal projectiles apparently didn't bounce off energy blades the same way plasma bolts did, increasing the squad's survival odds.

As far as Havoc missions went, this was a little more complicated. Cormac juggled three comlink channels: Havoc's, the fleet's, and the main channel that Colonel Darok issued orders over. Normally, grunts like Cormac only had to worry about the first two; the third being left to the commander. But, since they were all so special, Shan had patched all of Havoc into control. Balic didn't know if Darok had been informed of that, so he kept his mouth shut. The trouble was, everyone seemed to be barking orders in Balic's ear at once, making it nearly impossible to separate one order from another.

Then, a familiar voice filled his helmet. "Everyone stay on the Havoc channel for now. Jorgan and I will monitor the others. Let them do their job, and we'll do ours." Bless you, Fynta, Cormac thought before gladly shutting out all the extra noise.

The main line clicked as another link joined in, and before Cormac could take a breath, a new voice came online. "I had Yuun patch me into your squad so that I could keep an eye on your progress." The voice was fairly deep with a hint of sarcasm underlying it. Cormac guessed that must be Agent Theron Shan. "Darok can handle the army, you're my project, so don't make me look bad."

"Fine," Fynta responded. "But, keep the line clear and don't distract my soldiers, Shan."

"Ouch, last name only," Theron chuckled. The major had admitted to Elara in private that she had history with the SIS agent, however, she'd remained vague on the exact details. What little Elara had shared, along with Jorgan's generally sour mood, had given Cormac all information he needed. After a brief discussion over whether or not to offer support, Balic and Elara had decided that it would be better if they kept their noses out of the situation all together. The only problem was, Cormac had never been good at that sort of thing.

Yuun clicked something in the background, but Cormac didn't catch it. Theron snorted a laugh before continuing, "Hey, can I borrow him from time to time? He's really handy."

"That is up to Yuun. We're approaching the landing zone now," Fynta answered in a clipped manner. Cormac felt the urge to say something encouraging, then physically bit his tongue. It really wasn't any of his business.

"One hundred meters," Jorgan reported out of nowhere. It was the first time he'd spoken since Havoc left the space station. "Fifty . . . thirty . . . ten."

"Everyone out," Fynta ordered. Havoc Squad jumped in unison, not waiting for the dropship to land, making them the first boots to touch ground in the second wave. Cormac took a moment to get his bearings and situate the sun with the map on his HUD, a habit hardwired into him from all the extreme climate training he'd done back when he was a freshy. Terrain could transform in the blink of an eye, and technology could only get a person so far. If a soldier wanted to ensure they found their way home, the sun was the best way to go.

Having gotten his bearings, Cormac took a moment to examine the scenery in their direct vicinity. "This place is an osik pit," he decided out loud. The planet was just as red on the ground as it had looked from overhead. It was hard to know if Korriban had always been this desolate, or if the bombings had torn it apart.

"Well, that's one question answered. Theron to wave two. Welcome to Korriban. You'll need to traverse the Wilds up ahead to reach the Sith Academy."

Cormac had no idea what the guy meant until Fynta responded that there were no secrets in her squad. That's when Cormac realized he'd used Mando'a. It had become so ingrained in all of them that it didn't sound foreign anymore. "Turns out it's an easy system of morals to adopt," Fynta continued. "And everyone loves learning new cuss words."

"I'm still not convinced," Shan replied. "Hey, are you okay, Captain? Your heart rate's a little elevated. Unless that's normal for a Cathar."

"Perfectly normal," Elara cut in, rescuing Shan from the growl that was sure to follow. She was Jorgan's doctor, after all, no one would argue with her.

This time, Cormac decided to ignore the common sense part of his mind that said to leave an angry Cathar alone, and opened a private line to the captain. "Just hang in there," he encouraged. Havoc had begun making their way down a steep embankment that led into a valley of sharp rocks and ambush ready choke points. "We all know where the major's loyalty lies."

Cormac expected a dressing down for meddling in the commander's private life, but the big Cathar sighed in response. "Yeah, thanks." All things considered, that was the best outcome he could have hoped for, so Balic carried on in silence.

Orbit above Tython
Imperial Dreadnaught

Blue and red lights from the computer terminals scattered about the room reflected off the shimmering display on the holotable. Zolah watched as battle cruisers and starfighters descended on the Jedi planet, raining destruction down on everything. It had taken months and endless calculations to reach this point. She, Vector, and Lana Beniko had stayed up many an hour surviving on caf and stims in order to account for every contingency. Finally, it was all coming to fruition.

"Do you understand your part in this?"

Lana's question pulled Zolah's attention from the display. The Sith advisor was talking to a skinny little Cathar female. Solish Rasik favored wearing a golden, feline mask whenever she was out in public to hide her true origins, but Lana had given Zolah access to the Sith's dossier. A Cathar Sith, especially one of such renown, was a treat, were it not for her peculiarities. At Solish's side stood a Dashade; an ancient, fearsome soul eater that the Sith had somehow managed to wrestle from the bowls of Korriban itself. Zolah had pitched Vector's idea of a single Sith infiltration, and this was the creature Lana had supplied.

Solish looked up at her companion. "Khem, are you hungry?" He rumbled an answer in a language that not even Zolah's advanced implants could translate. Whatever he'd said, it amused the little Sith greatly. "We are ready," she replied, returning her attention to Lana.

"Excellent, your shuttle is waiting." Lana dipped her head. "May the Force serve you."

After watching the duo retreat, Lana joined Zolah at the table. "Are you sure about those two?" The Chiss agent asked. "I've read some disturbing things. Possession by Sith ghosts has surely addled her mind."

A faint smile touched Lana's lips. "Yes, I imagine you'd know, wouldn't you?" Zolah narrowed her eyes in warning, but Lana waved the scowl away. "Solish is indeed unbalanced, but she's also a skilled warrior who has proven adept at resisting mind control. Who better to send into the depths of a Jedi temple?"

The logic was sound, but the Dashade still concerned Zolah. "Does Darth Zash still speak through the creature?" Solish's old master had attempted to take control of her apprentice's body, but something had gone wrong, forcing the ancient Sith to share headspace with the Dashade. Rumor had it, the old master still aided her student when she could wrestle control from Khem Val. It was an—odd, relationship.

"I haven't asked," Lana responded with a shrug. "It is a touchy subject, or so I've heard. If she does, then Solish's pet is protected as well. Win-win, no?"

Zolah watched the blond Sith for a moment before switching her attention back to the holo. "We shall see."

Korriban
Republic Infiltration Site

"Wave one managed to soften the Imps up a bit, but you've still got your work cut out for you. Good luck." Theron's voice cut out, and Jorgan found that he could breathe easier. Get it together and deal with this later, he scolded himself silently. While Fynta might bring out the best in him, she'd also revealed a few of the Cathar's less attractive characteristics. Such as jealousy.

Jorgan's HUD flashed red to get his attention, and he forced all other thoughts aside. "Life signs ahead. Multiple thermal readings."

"Humanoid or animal?" Fynta asked, calling for a halt.

"Hard to say. They are pretty tightly packed." Jorgan patched his feed through to the major. They hadn't spoken much on the Thunderclap, and he regretted that now. Jorgan wanted to clear the air between them, but the time for that had passed. He couldn't help but remind himself that this was exactly why these relationships were prohibited.

The comm clicked, and Theron came back on line, setting Jorgan's teeth on edge. "Imperial defenders have a barricade up ahead. There's no time to go around, so you'll have to go through."

Jorgan caught Cormac's movement in his peripheral. The man squatted, one hand flattened against the ground. "I'm picking up some low level seismic activity," he said at last. "Is that normal for this planet?"

"Not that I know of, let me check a few things," Shan answered.

Cormac's helmet tipped to the side as if he were trying to hear better, and Jorgan bet the man had his ambient noise turned all the way up. "There are creatures who burrow through the ground," Yuun added just as Cormac stood. "Some large, some small. Travel carefully, my friends."

"Yuun might be onto something," Cormac responded again. "These readings are too small and shallow to be normal, planetary shifting."

"Regardless, our job remains the same. Keep an eye on that Cormac." Fynta motioned everyone down behind a small hill, then flopped onto her belly to peek over the rise through her scope. "Vik, got anything to send to our hosts?" She asked, helmet jerking in the direction of the densest heat signature.

The Weequay already had his pack open, rummaging through. "I might have packed a few toys," Vik responded. He finally found what he was searching for and crawled forward on his stomach to prop his rifle barrel on the rock in front of him. "I've been looking for an excuse to try this baby out." The Weequay's weapon was a heavily modified piece and could attach multiple barrels. Two more than what was considered legal in the Galactic Republic, but Fynta pretended not to notice.

"Oh, is that the—"

"Yep," Vik said, cutting Cormac off. Apparently the two had put their heads together again, coming up with ever more creative ways to take things apart. Cormac's official title in the squad was Environmental Preparedness, but he'd trained in demolitions as well. Meaning there was never a shortage of explosions when Havoc was involved. Fynta encouraged this, of course.

"Are we far enough away?" Cormac asked, edging closer to Elara.

"More or less," Vik shrugged. "Everyone wearing their best beskar'gam? Good." The weapon made an almost subsonic whoomph that rattled Jorgan's teeth. Then, the horizon turned white, followed by a deluge of rocks and dirt. Everyone made themselves as small as possible in hopes of avoiding the bigger chunks.

When the bombardment of rubble stopped, Fynta pushed back onto her elbows. "Everyone still alive?" It was the traditional sitrep request after every detonation. It struck Jorgan how common that phrase had become, and how much his view on things had changed. Explosions ceased to be a concern anymore.

"That was a work of pure artistry." Vik gave a mock sniffle as he clambered back to his feet. "Anyway, should be clear now."

"You people are crazy," Shan broke in. "That thing registered on the satellite! I think Yuun might be grinning."

"We like to take the path of least resistance when possible," Fynta answered. Jorgan didn't know about Yuun, but she definitely was.

Cormac jogged to the top of the hill and looked over. "Well, they aren't resisting anymore." Jorgan joined him, not quite prepared for what he saw. The entire area had been reduced to one big crater. Everything had either been vaporized or thrown into the atmosphere in a massive column of debris that stretched kilometers into the sky.

"Just, don't ever use that on a Republic world," Shan grumbled. "Might cause it to shift into an ice age or something."

"You worry too much, Shan," Fynta responded, her helmet turned towards Jorgan, and he was sure she'd winked, a signal that all was well. Jorgan allowed himself a light chuckle and followed Fynta down the newly added decline. The air between them unofficially cleared.

Orbit above Tython
Imperial Command Ship

Zolah's screen flashed bright enough that she had to avert her eyes. When it dimmed again, Solish stood in the midst of five still smoking corpses in light brown robes. "Pitiful little things," the Cathar remarked as she stepped over the charred Padawans. "If they'd only been trained properly."

The Dashade and Sith were an efficient team of death. Solish's control of Force lightning was unrivaled. The woman could channel it from her body, through the ground, and into the bodies of her adversaries in an alarming radius. "Those Padawans were at least twenty meters away," Zolah remarked, rubbing her chin in thought.

Solish lacked nothing in flare either. So far, Zolah had seen an impressive variety of ways to kill by electrocution. The woman had barely even activated her lightsaber. Most impressive of all, had been the time she had arced lightning through seven different opponents, striking each in the center of their chest. The Twi'lek freedom fighters had fallen like dominoes.

"I thought you'd like her," Lana replied with a smile. "Her saber skill could use some refining, but she hardly needs the blade."

The Dashade grumbled something, and Solish sighed. "Very well, a quick snack, then we must continue. They are counting on us, after all." The hint of sarcasm was not lost on the ops coordinators. Lana and Zolah shared a look, and the blond Sith almost rolled her eyes.

Lana leaned forward to active the comm. "Darth Solish, you are nearing the Jedi temple, I'd advise caution, there is likely to be heavy resistance."

The Cathar turned her eyes directly to the view screen, and Zolah felt a chill run down her spine. When she responded, it was in the same, girlish tone of the completely insane. "Let them come."

Zolah and Lana stood side by side, watching the assault team destroy all who stood in their path. The temple came into view, and Lana leaned forward. "Amazing, no one has ever come this far before," the woman breathed. There was a reverence in her tone that confused Zolah. At least, until she remembered that this wasn't just a building to the Sith. It was the physical embodiment of everything they hated. Somehow, Lana didn't strike Zolah as the power hungry, hate filled Sith. Truth be told, the Chiss actually rather liked the woman.

"Something is wrong," Solish said at last. Zolah saw what she meant a moment before the Sith continued. "I've killed nothing but Padawans and a couple of lower level knights. Where are the masters?"

It was a valid question. Zolah looked up to find Darth Arkous, then realized she hadn't seen him in a couple of hours. She needed him to reach out to his contact, to find out why the Jedi homeworld was so poorly guarded. "Where is your master, Lana?"

The woman's lips pressed into a tight line at the honorific, but she didn't comment on it. "He's gone to see Lord Goh off. He will be responsible for the collection of data from the temple. I imagine he thought it prudent to send him early given Solish's success."

Zolah considered the screen again before responding to the Sith's concerns. "The objective remains the same. Continue with the plan, Darth Solish." The next step was to gain access to the main library where their holocrons were said to be held. If they'd planned this right, the Jedi wouldn't have had time to move the historical devices before rushing to defend their world. Zolah had been assured by Arkous himself that she would be involved in the interpretation of some of those artifacts. Of course, Zolah wouldn't lose sight of her main mission. If only you could see us now, Rakton, you'd be so pleased.

Korriban
Sith Academy

"We're here," Dorne breathed. The elevator stopped at the entrance to an ancient, red clay building. Fynta felt cold all over as she stepped off the platform. She led the way up the steep permacrete and dirt covered ramp, pausing to scan for life signs inside the foyer. The moment she stepped over the threshold, it felt as if all the hope and joy had been sucked out of the world. The major gave herself a shake to stay focused and noticed everyone else doing the same.

"This place is awful," Dorne whispered again, no longer sounding amazed. "If only the people of the Empire knew who they truly served." Fynta felt for her friend, who clearly lamented her time taking orders from depraved murderers. That, and Elara's family was still loyal to the Empire.

Havoc crept deeper, a weight settling in Fynta's chest. This place put her on edge; made her jumpy. The major cleared her throat to focus the squad before speaking. "Let's split up. Dorne and Vik, you're with Jorgan. Cormac, with me." No one spoke as they broke into smaller groups. Each took one of the once lavishly carved staircases that stood to either side of the central room. Now, everything was bombed to osik, leaving them in shambles.

"Watch your step. These floors have seen better days," Jorgan commented as rubble tumbled down the stairs.

"Contact!" Vik's rifle fire filled Fynta's helmet for a brief second before the automatic control lowered the volume to protect her ears.

"We've got company too, boss," Cormac called, opening fire on a red skinned Sith Pureblood. The skinny male batted the bolts back at them the first few tries, then took one to the head and fell limp. They crept closer to make sure it wasn't a ruse. "Fierfek," Cormac spat. "It was a kid!"

"Same here," Jorgan reported. "Looks like they've got the students guarding the place."

"Then where are the masters?" Fynta asked. It was a shame that these probably weren't going to be the last kids they killed, but she couldn't let herself dwell on it. It was a do or die situation, and lamenting the unfairness of life wouldn't change the outcome. Mercifully, the building shook around them, providing a distraction from the morbid job ahead. It also signaled the beginning of the next wave of Republic bombings. "Let's get to the Dark Council chambers before this building is reduced to rubble."

Havoc squad encountered a few more apprentices of varying ages on their way up to the top of the building. They were preparing to breach a heavily blockaded door when Theron came back online after being oddly silent. "Okay, you're at the Dark Council chambers. Be careful, I don't have any mapping of this part of the building. It's shielded or something."

The door blew inwards, and Fynta hefted her rifle. "Vik, Dorne, watch the door," she ordered as she continued in, flanked by her two best shots.

"Only the greatest of all Sith are permitted to set foot in these chambers," a deep voice boomed off the walls. "You profane our entire history by your presence alone." Jorgan spotted the target first. His sniper training kicked in, and he fired two shots. Fynta looked up in time to see them both ricochet off a red blade. Then, the Sith, another Pureblood, stepped off the shoulder of a fifteen meter tall statue and landed hard on the floor. She had to admit, it was a hell of an entrance.

Jorgan fired again, testing for a weakness in the Sith defense, and Fynta and Cormac joined. The Sith deflected their bolts with ease, but not before taking a step back. This time he didn't deactivate his weapon. "If it's my lightsaber you want, rest assured, you'll have it," he sneered, stalking towards the three soldiers.

"That's Darth Soverus," Theron cut in. "He's as bad as they come."

"Anything useful, Shan?" Jorgan growled.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Then stay off the comm," Fynta added, keeping her eyes on the Sith. They didn't need someone to tell them the odds, they needed a strategy. "Dorne, Vik, move in and flank him. Maybe if we surround this guy we can overwhelm him."

"Why not just blow him up like the others?" Vik asked.

If he'd been close enough, Fynta would have smacked the Weequay. "Because this is the only room on this dirt ball that we need to keep standing."

"Right."

The Sith stood in the center of the room, completely unperturbed by the five commandos surrounding him. Fynta gave the command to fire at will, and what followed was complete chaos. Soverus danced in the center of their combined blasts, twirling his lightsaber and bouncing the bolts back at them.

Someone hissed, and Fynta saw Cormac drop to one knee, relaxing only slightly when he kept firing. Then, the Sith's voice filled the room again, much louder than it should have been. "Why do you fight when you cannot win?" he asked, and suddenly, Fynta's feet weren't on the floor anymore. "Now witness true strength."

Fynta's armor felt as if it was growing smaller, squeezing the life from her. Every joint in her body screamed in protest at the pressure being put on them, and she was sure her left hip was being wrenched from its artificial socket. Someone gasped for air, it sounded like Vik. Jorgan snarled, and Elara cried out. Even Theron's distant voice no longer coalesced into discernible speech. Her squad's desperate attempts to free themselves broke the spell that the pain held over Fynta's mind, focusing her on a single goal. A'den.

If Fynta was going down, she was taking the red skinned bastard with her. Raising her rifle with painful determination, the major continued firing, trying to ignore the agony growing in her chest. She was vaguely aware of at least one or two others doing the same.

The edges of Fynta's vision had started to dim when she was flung to the floor, all of the pressure suddenly gone. The major gulped in oxygen desperately as she checked life signs. Everyone still had a beating heart, though there was a lot of panting and coughing over the comms.

Fynta scrambled to her feet, weapon trained on the Sith that lay in the middle of the floor with a growing pool of dark blood beneath him. Someone had gotten off a lucky shot while he was distracted. "Someone take care of that ori'jagyc for me," Fynta growled as she stumbled to the computer terminal to finish the mission.

A rifle cracked, and Theron came online again. "A Jedi named Jensyn will be there shortly to collect the data. Come on home, Havoc."

Orbit above Tython
Jedi Temple

Master Oric Traless was an impressive opponent. On more than one occasion, Solish had been forced to deflect the debris he hurled at her. Zolah marveled at the fact that the Cathar's access to Force lightning had never weakened. In fact, the little Sith seemed to grow stronger throughout the battle. Khem Val lay unconscious to the side of the room, having taken a huttball sized boulder to the head. Solish battled on, closing the distance between herself and the Nautolan Jedi Master.

At last, their blades connected, filling the audio feed with an electric sizzle that threatened to overpower the sound filters. "As if it wasn't enough to sense your presence, you seem to have a need to do everything as loudly as possible," the Jedi remarked with a quirk of his lips.

Unease pulled at Zolah, and she spared a glance at Lana. Traless didn't sound even slightly winded, yet the battle had raged on for more than ten minutes. So, it was a surprise when Solish answered in kind. "I like to see the fear in my prey's eyes before we devour them. I like for them to know I'm coming." The small Sith, only coming to the Jedi's shoulder, leaned into her blade. "Like the fear I see in yours."

With a suddenness that surprised everyone, Solish flipped backwards, then threw her arms straight out in front of her. The action sent the Jedi tumbling off balance, and the Cathar hurled another storm of lightning at him. This one was brighter, almost blue in its intensity. It caught Traless in the stomach, and his body went rigid as electricity destroyed his cells.

Zolah watched the green lightsaber fall from the Jedi's hand, deactivating when it clattered to the floor. Then, he collapsed onto his knees, smoke rolling from his shoulders. The Nautolan gasped, head hanging between his shoulders as his entire body shuddered with pain. When his arms gave out, the Jedi lay sprawled across the floor. Only then, did Solish deactivate her lightsaber.

Movement caught Zolah's attention. Khem Val had regained consciousness and began to clamber to his feet. "There . . . is no—death," the Jedi rasped from where his face pressed into the once polished tile.

Solish stalked forward, squatting next to Traless, and lifted his head by the tendrils that protruded from his scalp. "For you, my dear Jedi, there is." The Sith stepped aside as Khem Val lifted Traless completely off the floor by his throat. The Dashade rumbled something, looking to Solish for permission. She patted the creature's bicep, "Eat up."

Master Oric Traless's scream followed Solish from the room.

"I believe my part in this is done, no?" The Cathar asked in a deceptively sweet voice.

Zolah leaned forward to press the intercom key. "It is, my lord. Report back to the ship at your convenience."

Once the Sith had cut the transmission, Zolah looked to Lana. "Yes, well, she's a bit brutal I'll admit," the blond woman said defensively. Zolah thought that was a gross understatement. However, she couldn't deny that the two made an exceptional team. Not that her opinion was weighed heavily in this regard.

"They are useful," the Chiss finally conceded. Her answer appeared to placate Lana, and the blond strode off to find her master. Zolah pulled up a still of the battle, examining every angle of this new, more deadly Force Lightning that Solish had conjured. If it proved one thing, it was that a Sith as powerful as Solish Rasik was a better ally than enemy. Zolah would have to tread carefully. Still, that didn't stop her from forming contingency plans, should they ever need to remove her as a threat. Briefly, the Chiss wondered if Castellan restraints worked on Force users. It might be worth looking into.

Mando'a

A'dan [AH-den] wrath, rage

ori'jagyc [OH-ree-JAHG-eesh] swaggering big-mouth - someone who picks on someone smaller - lit. big man said sarcastically,