I know it's been a long time since my last update. I suspect a large portion of my small readership has lost interest, and I can't really blame them; I hate it when my internet entertainments go on hiatus, especially without warning. So before I continue I'd like to apologise for the absence, and thank anyone who might have come back for their patience. I'll try to give notice next time I go on a long break.

Tulak Porg, Dark Lord of the Sith

Loka left the Dark Heart quickly, no longer bothering to hide her face. The package was now in her possession, and the sooner she reached the protection of her master's stronghold the better. The needling sensation that she was b

eing followed was back, and stronger. One she reached the Kaas City Spaceport she would be reasonably safe, but there was a long stretch of back alleys between her and the nearest air taxi pad. If her unknown stalker was going to make their move, it would mostly be somewhere in that maze of slums and backstreets.

But a Sith must allow themselves no fear: fear was a weakness that could give an enemy an advantage for them to capitalise on. It didn't really matter which enemy. Any Sith worthy of the title had at least a dozen to spare. So Loka entered the back alleys of the Entertainment District without a hint of anticipation, though she made sure to stick to the shadows and continually cast her senses about her in an attempt to pinpoint any pursuit.

Outwardly, she was perfectly calm as she jogged along, but inwardly Loka was horribly aware of how alone she was in these deserted alleyways. It would have been safer to stick to the crowds, but she could not risk a pleasure-hunting Sith picking up even a hint of what was in the package she carried. The isolation was, regrettably, necessary. And even without her lightsaber, she was far from defenceless. She could handle whatever bounty hunter or mugger was on her trail. Probably.

The streets were getting darker, and for all the Sith delighted in the metaphorical Darkness the literal stuff could be damned annoying sometimes. Even with her above-average night vision, Loka found herself relying on the Force to navigate most of her path. Unfortunately, her pursuer did not seem to be having any such difficulty. They were closer now, much closer. Somewhere just about…

There.

Loka turned and lashed out with the Force. The hunter who had been stalking her for the past two hours was yanked unceremoniously out of the window alcove they had been crouching in and fell to the floor in a sprawling heap. With startling speed and agility, they flipped back onto their feet and dropped into a fighting stance, fists raised.

Loka wasn't going to bother with that. Her attacker was knocked off their feet with a well-placed Force push and fell amongst a discarded heap of scrap metal. An instant later, the stakes were raised; whoever the hunter was drew a blaster pistol and fired three shots at the Sith apprentice, who ducked for cover behind a run down power generator. The attacker adjusted their angle, trying to get another shot, then grunted as their weapon was tugged out of their hand and went zooming into the outstretched hands of their target.

Loka took careful aim, pulled the trigger, and then screamed as a non-lethal but very painful surge of electricity shot through her body when the identity-imprinted weapon didn't recognise her DNA. She dropped the blaster, cursing, and was instantly shoulder-barged and sent sprawling to the floor. A rare beam of moonlight glinted off the edge of the vibroblade that winked out of the looming hunter's gauntlet.

Once again, Korriban came to her rescue. Acting on instincts honed by years of life-or-death struggles with her fellow acolytes, Loka flung her hands forward and unleashed a barrage of Force lightning. The assassin's cries were cut off as Loka's follow-up Force push flung them backwards, and their head fetched a sickeningly loud crack against the concrete walls.

If they hadn't been wearing a helmet, Loka thought as she pulled herself to her feet, the impact would have killed them. Instead they just had to deal with head-splitting concussion which, considering how they had just tried to kill her, didn't bother Loka too much. Important safety lesson, kids: when engaged in fights to the death, always wear your… standard issue Imperial Intelligence helmet?

Loka darted across to her groaning victim and yanked the helmet off, subjecting it to a rapid once-over. Her eyes narrowed into glowing yellow slits. "I thought so. You're one of Keeper's little goons." She had a moment of terrifying realisation. "Did Darth Jadus send you?"

The agent groaned deliriously. Lightning crackled at Loka's fingertips. "Answer me!"

The agent's eyes flickered open. "My lord… whu..?"

Loka dropped him impatiently and thought hard, pacing furiously. If Jadus was onto her, she was as good as dead. Worse than dead! Might Darth Reliyk protect her? Of course not. A Dark Lord had no time for an apprentice stupid enough to get herself caught, no Sith did; his political capital would be much better used elsewhere. She began to sweat, then shook her head. If she brought Reliyk the artefact instead of keeping it, then she might just be able to convince him to defend her from his fellow Dark Councillor. Yes, that might work-

Loka's head snapped round again. "Wait a moment… did Darth Jadus send you?" She fixed the still semi-conscious agent with a glowing yellow glare, even as she felt a flicker of hope. Was she just jumping to conclusions? Might this be completely unrelated to her going behind the Dark Lord's back and using his resources for her own ends? She advanced dangerously, predator like. "Who sent you?"

The agent was slowly regaining consciousness. A little too slowly, in fact, so Loka gave him a helpful little shock to speed things up. The agent jolted awake, and backed away in horror from the seething Sith towering over him. Loka crossed her arms. "Answer me, Imperial. Who sent you? Was it Jadus?"

"What? No!" protested the agent, a little groggily. "You think… you think I'm important enough to gain Jadus' attention?"

Loka sagged with relief. She was safe. And more importantly, unless she was very much mistaken, this meant that she had just successfully outwitted a Lord of the Dark Council! How exhilarating was that?

The agent was edging slowly but surely away from his captor and towards the blaster, lying discarded some feet away. Loka saw his movement out of the corner of her eye, and made a small gesture. The blaster skittered away down an alleyway, and became lost in the gloom. "I don't think so. For the last time: who do you work for?"

Her voice was layered with the power of the Force this time which, combined with no small amount of fear on the captive's part, broke the agent's already addled will. He told her. Loka's face darkened, and at the end of the agent's tale she nodded grimly to herself. "You're certain?"

"Yes," nodded the agent, earnestly. "He said this was my big chance. My final test to earn my promotion to Cipher."

"And that's good, is it?" Loka asked. "A fancy number instead of a name, Agent..?"

"Darick, my lord. And it's every operatives dream career move; I've been waiting for the opportunity for years. Only the best get to become Ciphers."

Loka shook her head in despair at the short-sightedness of these spy types. "Alright. Get out of here."

"Yes, my lord," said the agent, backing off. Loka felt the relief washing off him as he turned to leave. He had got as far as the end of the alleyway when she felt the clouds of suspicion creep across his mind, and he turned, suddenly frowning. He strode back purposefully, eyes narrowed, looking very inquisitorial. "Just one thing, my lord…" he said, and in that moment he suddenly reminded Loka of an Intelligence Interrogator she had once seen break a Republic spy without lifting a finger. "You mentioned Darth Jadus. Just why would the Dark Lord have sent an assassin after you?"

Loka froze, and closed her eyes. "Oh, Darick," she muttered. "You just couldn't walk away, could you? You just had to do your job."

She remembered another lesson from the Academy, one that Darth Baras had spent many hours drumming into his student's heads under the heat of Korriban's sun. Never leave any loose ends…