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Last time: Introduced to Oppie, Sasha, and Viran.

Now: Cien gets her next mission

Part 1- Chapter 2: Foreboding Aura

The rangers were closing in, the blaster fire ricocheted down the hallway as Oppie fled, dodging a storm of bolts and flicking a few away with the blade of his fallen master's saber after his own had been destroyed earlier in the battle. Their only chance was to get to the shuttle at the docking hatch. The younglings, Sasha and Viran, were already there. He skidded around a corner and there, at the end of the hall was the docking port. Sasha, oddly the adult version of her, was at the airlock yelling for him to come on as behind him the clones drew closer. His legs slowed as if he was running through sand and he could barely move, as he tried to run faster he only seemed to move slower and slower, as every inch turned into miles, as the clones closed and took aim with their blasters...

He awoke with a startle, not his favorite dream, but one he had too often. He looked at the chrono and saw it was a few hours past midnight. He folded the covers over and sat on the side of the bed, clearing the last vestiges of the dream from his mind. Getting up, he traced his way through the small apartment out to the kitchen without turning on the lights. At the sink he splashed some water on his face and filled a glass for a drink. He turned and walked over to the small living area, out the windows he took in the view of the forests on the outskirts of town lit by the double moons. He really did enjoy this view, several floors up, especially at this time of night when it was so peaceful. On the other side of the apartment building was a marvelous view of the spaceport, but he had preferred to take the view of the forests, the space port was more Viran's thing.

Ever since that terrible day; Empire Day Oppie thought with a snort, they had been running. Living a nomadic existence as they tried to stay out of the Empires way. Settling in small, out of the way places like this for a while, but never really being able to settle. From his living room he could just about see the small hill where their bug-out ship, the Forerunner, was hidden in the trees. It was filled with their more personal possessions, ready to go on a moment's notice if they caught a whiff of Moff Jiardon's forces, the Moff controlling their sector, headed their way. Heading for them.

He had indeed seen the news story of the recent fallen Jedi. It was far away, towards the core worlds and anti-spinward, so it wouldn't bring any attention to their sector, and for that he was thankful. He wasn't sure if Sasha or Viran knew yet, though he supposed they probably did since such incidents were always reported on the holonet. Sasha would probably be taking it hard, as she always did when one of their brethren fell, and Viran would probably have done his best to cheer her up. They had turned into a family over the years, since they were the only three beings in the galaxy eachother could really trust.

It was probably time to move on. They had been on Vestora for more than a year now. The longest they had settled anywhere, now that he thought of it. But the notice today of increased patrols in the sector presaged more Imperial presence, the omen of the fallen Jedi, and... The dream, it just felt like it was time to move on before they were forced to. He'd go to the cantina after work tomorrow, like he did many times a week, and let them know after closing what he was thinking.

But where to go? The Empire spread like a sickly oil slick outward from the core. There weren't a lot of places to go anymore, and everywhere seemed to be in their path. Viridian? It was a small desert outpost, but a little rough. Batuu? Maybe, it sounded like a sleepy little town. He would start researching tomorrow what quiet places might be nice and maybe in a month or so they could quietly move on.

Over the forest another small ship was hitting the atmosphere. It looked like a marvelous shooting star as it slowed its way on approach to the space port. It flew over their apartment building with a low hum greatly muted by the building. It kept Oppie's attention until it flew overhead, out of sight, and made him feel uneasy for some reason.

Cien strode down the corridors with a purpose, the crew of the ship making way for her. Her straw colored hair in her usual tight braid that trailed down to the small of her back, which contrasted with the long sleeved black tunic made of layered folds and skirting she wore around her legs. Her lightsaber, a bright silvery hilt clipped to a belt made of looped, darkened brass colored rings with a black leather backing, lay at her hip. Troopers stood to the side in their dark grey and red armor at attention as she passed, while menial crew members simply hastened to get out of her way. None were worthy of notice to her, as one of the Sith Acolytes aboard ship they afforded her the greatest respect while she barely acknowledged them. The engineering work crews were still all over the Bloodstorm, upgrading it to match the standards of this time; better shields, computers, engines and weapons. All gifts from their political machinations with the Moff that sought their favor. The irony of course that this great dreadnought of the Sith fleet, barely out of the drydock from their perspective at just over three years old, and the most powerful warship they had ever fielded was now thousands of years out of date thanks to the treachery of their fellow Sith. That that treachery had led to them surviving the war that those traitorous fools had lost, only to quietly emerge into a galaxy truly conquered by another iteration of the Sith Empire was another twist of delicious irony.

She stopped briefly, outside the great, armored doors that led to her lord's sanctum. They opened smoothly, the darkened, blast proof durasteel sliding apart to grant her entrance. Beyond the space opened up to a grand throne room, the floors and walls covered in black obsidian, the floors smooth, the walls faceted and played with the dim light. It was possible that it was even carved into one great edifice of obsidian that was set into the ship, but she did not really care one way or the other. At the far end Dracul sat in the throne, also carved and faceted obsidian, contemplating a ten meter wide holographic map projected in the air before him of the current state of the galaxy, with various data markers leading to specific planets. She walked down the center of the room, her steps echoing off the rocky floor and walls in the otherwise silent tableau, save for the ambient noise of a ship in operation. After a few seconds she reached the far side of the projection from her master and stopped, kneeling to the floor and waiting for his attention. This he did not give for some time, as he finished whatever thoughts lay behind the mask. One note of curiosity that all the crew held, even herself and Kopesh, was what might lay behind that armored faceplate; the visage of a warrior in his prime, or the shriveled remnants of a Sith Lord consumed by the darkside. It made no particular difference either way. But to Cien, a Sith strong in the ability to delve into the minds of others and extract their most treasured secrets, her master remained a dark enigma. As much a blackhole to her considerable abilities as the singularity they had been trapped around for several months or several thousand years, depending on perspective. And that was most intriguing. And also frightening. One of the few things that Cien found frightening in her life in fact.

"There is another fragment." Dracul said, bringing Cien back to the present as he finally deigned to speak to her. She was fairly sure the chamber had been prepared in such a way as to amplify his voice even louder, especially to those who were in front of the throne as she was "On the second planet of the Vestora system. It is your task to retrieve it for me."

She felt some annoyance at the vagueness of the mission, but dared not show any trace of it. Dracul was not a forgiving master, and predictable only in his cruelty if given a reason for ire. "What information do we have about the artifact, My Lord? Where would I start?" Searching an entire planet for a little bauble like the one they had found a year and a half ago at the destroyed temple would be a considerable task.

"It is carried by a Jedi," he spat out the last word, "hiding from the Empire. For one with your abilities that should allow you to find them. That is why this task is for you and not Kopesh, do not disappoint me." At this he turned back to his meditative study of the galactic map. And she took that as her dismissal.

"It will be done, My Lord." She stood, respectfully walked backwards a number of steps, and then turned to walk to the far side of the throne room back to the entry.

A fairly straightforward task, then, to go to this planet. Force users shone brightly to her when she was near enough. She enjoyed the opportunity to fight, skilled with the blade and baptized in an open war with the Jedi and the Republic where far better warriors had taken the field than any this age seemed to muster. Over a thousand years of peace had diminished any true warrior ethos that existed in this galaxy. Even reviewing the histories of the recent Clone Wars showed how laughable the combat and warfighting prowess was, so it would be a slaughter when she encountered whatever Jedi might be guarding this fragment. That made her smile a bit, and the fact that she had yet another opportunity to show her superiority over Kopesh made her smile even more. Any of the crew that saw that smile as she stalked past felt a chill to their core.

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