Leon frowned at his image in the refresher mirror, wearing only his under armor. His clothes hung from the door, contrasting sharply against the steam from the shower that had wafted into the enclosed space around him. He couldn't believe that, in times of war, people would abandon and betray their people and their government for the life of a mercenary. It was sickening, and rare – overall. But still, the numbers were large enough that another two traitor Sith wouldn't be noticed starting a small band of mercenaries. That they had the aid of famed Coruscanti Echani warrior, Deranis, would give them instant credibility and authority with both sides of the war, as well as with any other groups who would like to have their own personal Sith hounds for a short term strike.

It disgusted Leon, the idea of aiding the enemies of the Empire, but he was also sure that the Council would have been directing the Triumviracy towards false targets, or traitorous commanders. Or, at the very least he hoped for such a possibility. Hearing that the Empire was stuck at a virtual impasse due to Revan's death and the... less than ideal leadership of Darth Nernyn was a serious blow to his own morale.

His thoughts of gloom were interrupted, however, by a pounding on the wall. "Oh, fearless leader, the ship's setting down," Erea's voice came from the other side of the locked durasteel door. "Get out here!"

Leon sighed and grabbed his shirt. "I'm on my way," he replied before pulling the cloth over his head. He pulled his pants up next and strapped his boots. With a wave of his hand, he used the Force to comb his lengthening mane into a more manageable style. He stared at the image looking back at him with a frown.

Revan. So many connections with the man, and none of them made any sense. Visions, the ship... Hell, Mari's first words to Leon had been asking him if the two of them were related! Looking at his own reflection, he had to admit that his resemblance to the rumors surrounding Revan's face behind the mask was uncanny – or it would be if the gray eyes and brown-black hair atop his head was not common amongst any number of social strata within Imperial space. Besides, he somehow doubted Revan had the same nose as him.

Leon pulled his coat over his shoulder and set about buttoning the jacket one at a time before pulling on a pair of fingerless combat gloves. His lightsaber's weight hung from his right hip, a constant reminder of the power he now commanded. He turned towards the door and stepped out.

Kashyyyk was a world of towering forest, with trees as old – older, even – than the indigenous Wookiees themselves. In the centuries since the end of the war between Palpatine's Empire and the Rebel Alliance, the Wookiees had become a major technological power in the galaxy, leading designs of some of the newest, best starship tech in the galaxy along with scouting new hyperspace routes. Both were incredibly useful for the war effort, though not for the Empire. The Wookiees, despite some misgivings on the part of Senator Sirrakuk, remained firmly entrenched on the side of the Triumviracy. The governments worked well together, with the Wookiees having enjoyed centuries of prosperity due to their alliances with the Triumvirate and the Alliance before it, and the Triumvirate becoming privy to information and hyperspace lanes that the Empire had never seen, enacting ambushes that the Empire wasn't prepared for. Leon had a feeling that Revan had destroyed that sun to prevent an ambush... and further use of the lanes discovered by the thriving Wookiee Scouting business.

Due to its prosperous nature, however, crime and corruption on the once isolated planet had skyrocketed. The Triumvirate, soon after the war had begun, had started to make the companies more public. Government owned. This caused the corrupted to grow, unabated, and continually drove more and more of the Wookiee population towards supporting the Empire, though their gratitude for the end of the enslavement of their species was too great to enact a swift break with the Triumvirate.

That corruption, in fact, was the reason that their cover was created as it was. By introducing themselves with a successful sale of their skills to a high level Triumvirate operative scheming against his or her allies, they could not only deal damage to the enemy war effort but also establish a name for their small band of warriors. This would, of course, also give them unfettered access to most of the planet.

As Leon walked down the ramp of the Eagle, he frowned as a wave of deja vu ran through his head. It passed quickly, however, as he reached the bottom of the walkway and was confronted by a weary looking Twi'lek. "Hello, first time visitor?" the woman asked Leon, frowning at him and placing her hands on her hips.

"Yes," Leon replied, frowning. He knew where this was going to go. He raised his hand and furrowed his brow for a moment. "We don't need to pay a docking fee. We can go about our business, and you'll be happy to help whenever we need you."

The Twi'lek woman's stare went blank for a moment, but she quickly recovered. She glanced down at her datapad and scoffed. "Huh, it seems you've already paid the docking fee," she said. She sighed and looked back up at Leon. "Sorry if I seemed angry – it's been a long day. I'll be refueling your ship, so just holler if you need anything." The woman turned away and walked off to boss the two arguing gonk droids nearby.

"Why would you do that?" Erea asked from Leon's left shoulder. He turned to her, one eyebrow raised. She had her hands on her hips and she was staring down on him, despite the fact that he was taller than her. "You should have just paid her, not overridden her free will like that!"

"Oh, come on, he had to establish that we were mercenaries," Deranis explained, as if Erea were overlooking the obvious. Leon glanced over at the white haired man, whose steely eyes were calmly staring down at the redhead. "If he didn't, it would look like we were soft. Then where would we be?"

"We also don't have the money to pay," Leon pointed out with a frown. "We're 'broke deserters' after all. I'd prefer not to do it, either, Erea, but we work with what we have. After we get paid,I'll make sure to pay her back." He looked around and sighed. "Look, we need to find out if anyone worked here when Revan landed three years ago, get any info we can out of them. Erea, you ask around about that. Mari, keep an eye on the ship and ask around, too. Deranis and I will go and meet the 'client' in the Cantina."

The group hesitated for a moment, then went off to do as they were told. Deranis laughed amusedly next to Leon. "Like I said before – they follow you, Sith," the Echani stated. "And I'll follow you – lead on."

Leon nodded and began walking towards the Cantina. "So... how does a half-Echani end up working for a Hutt on Coruscant?" Leon asked as they ducked around a pair of Wookiees carrying a freighter turbolaser over their shoulders. "You didn't seem particularly excited to be there."

The Echani laughed, the movement causing his heavy blaster to jostle and jump on his back, clacking against his armor. "An understatement if I've ever heard one, Sith," the Echani replied between his laughs. "Ah, Jool... She was the least criminal of the gangsters in the area. Had a code of honor... and besides, I owed her. That's about all it came down to."

"What for?" Leon inquired as he opened the door to the cantina. He motioned for the Echani to go in before him then walked in after him.

The Echani was quiet. "I'd rather not," he finally said as he neared the bar. "Looks like he's not here yet. Want a drink?"

"Tarisian Ale," Leon said before sitting down at the table set aside for meeting the client. Deranis nodded and walked off.

"Well, you didn't kill her," a familiar voice said. Leon groaned quietly as the Man in the Black Robe snaked into the seat across from him. The shadows still concealed the man's laughing gaze. "I would've."

Leon shook his head. "Who?" he asked. The black cloak's head cocked to the side, as if saying that Leon already knew. "Marien? Yeah, so?"

"Be careful around her," the man suggested darkly. Two black hands made their way onto the table top, clasped together. "She is your most dangerous enemy."

"She's my closest friend," Leon hissed in retort.

The black robed man scoffed. "Exactly. Revan lived and died by that knowledge. Revan was destroyed by 'friendship.' You must survive, and 'friends' will only lead to your death." The man moved to slam his fist onto the table, but stopped a fraction of an inch above the table.

"Why are you so interested in my survival, hm?' Leon responded, scowling at the man across the table. "Why are you following me everywhere that I kriffing go? It's weird... and it means you want something from me. What?!"

The black abyss of the man's face stared, silently, at Leon. "You're right. Nothing comes without a price," the man responded. There was almost an audible smile in his reply. "And, perhaps, you'll know what I want of you one day. Or maybe you will die before you fulfill your function. Trusting that Chiss only makes it more likely that the latter is true... For now, there is a password you need to know. These coordinates are important, so don't forget them."

Leon sighed and pulled up his personal datapad, tapping in the locations and saving the information. "Fine. Anything else?" he asked. He looked up and shook his head – the man was gone.

"Who you talking to?" Deranis asked as he sat down. He placed Leon's Tarisian Ale on the table and brought his own drink to his lips. He pulled it down a moment later, froth covering his upper lip. Leon shrugged and shook his head. "Hm... how about you? How did you end up in the Sith military?"

"Mom was a Stormtrooper trainer on our home planet. Dad was an Imperial Clerk. War broke out, Mom died. Joined to honor her, get revenge. Dad died too," Leon explained hollowly, going through the motions of it. It was an old story: so many had told it and even more had heard it. "Everyone I know seems to end up dead, actually."

"Such is the mark of a warrior," the Echani said. He studied Leon silently, placing his drink on the table. After a long pause: "My father died in battle long ago."

"Well, I hope that you two are better at fighting than he was," a voice with a slightly Coruscanti accent said from above, eliciting a rage-filled snarl from Deranis. Leon held his hand out and shook his head before turning up to the Mirialan woman above. "Though, from your reputation, Echani, I am sure that you are." She smiled slightly, a condescending look, and held her hand out to Leon. "Tara Lorso. Triumvirate Czerka Overseer."

SWSWSWSWSW

Admiral Taas sighed as the group of advisers around him continued to talk. "What's the matter, Admiral?" the closest one asked, stopping the conversation.

"What are we even talking about?" Van asked, his voice a growl. One of his advisers began to speak, but he held up his hand. His cane squeaked against the floor. "I know what you were talking about. That's not the point, because it wasn't important. You've all been dancing around the real topic for months, and no one will answer me anything. The Triumvirate won't kriffing respond to any questions I have about the disappearance of the Sith, nor of the ship they used to escape. Nope, they won't tell me anything. Not a single thing about one of the most important events in the recent war. So, since I can't go to them, you will tell me of all the rumors, conjecture, and whispers you have been able to gather since the Sith disappeared, then you will tell me how close our techs are to decrypting the data. That's an order."

The officers glanced between each other nervously. "Sir," the bravest one finally began, "we were all given strict orders from the Triumvirs to withhold any information on that event for the foreseeable future. We each knew something small, I believe, and they don't want that whole picture leaking. Sir."

Van glared at the soldiers before him. He thought about bashing each of their skulls in with his cane. Well, maybe not killing them – but the idea of smacking them around definitely appealed to him. Fortunately, just as he began to raised his cane into the air, his underlings were saved by a loud beeping coming from the Admiral's personal communicator. He sighed and smiled wearily. "Leave. I have important business to attend to," he told the soldiers who had just been saved from his ire by Ana Gann's well-timed call. The soldiers nodded and saluted before filing out of Admiral Taas' office. The Admiral waited until the last of the orange and gray clad men and women disappeared through the door, which slid shut with a quiet hiss, then hobbled over to his desk.

He tapped the accept code for the incoming call, making sure to input the code that kept any information on the line from being tracked – by friend or foe. "Ana," Van sighed happily as he eased into his seat. He groaned and massaged his bad leg for a moment before looking up at her face. She had one eyebrow raised worriedly. "Oh, I've just been locked out of any information on the escaping Sith and the drive. For being Grand Admiral, the Triumvirs don't trust me much, hm?"

Ana laughed dryly. "Well, would you trust you?" she asked, smiling. "I distinctly remember you saying something along the lines of, 'Who would be stupid enough to make me Grand Admiral?'"

"Oh, nice, twisting my words," the officer huffed. He leaned back into his desk chair, fidgeting. A spasm ran down his bad leg, bringing a grunt of discomfort from his throat. "You haven't called in a while. What's going on?"

"Ah, I was busy. I barely had time to report to the Triumvirs on what those Sith were doing before getting thrown to the next thing. And whereas you can only worry about me, they can put the shutdown on any ops I'm running," Ana responded with a smile. She lowered her voice and stopped smiling. "I don't have a lot of time, but know that I'm going to tell you as much as I can... but you can't tell anyone else. Triumvirate wouldn't even like me telling you."

Van looked down at his desk, then back up at the holographic face. "Thank you," he said somberly, his eyes steeled.

"There's not much, mostly... junk. But the Jedi you sent, he reported the ship as being..."

"What?" Van asked, wondering why Ana was biting her lip. Stopping herself.

"Van, the Sith escaped in the Crimson Eagle," Ana finally said.

The Admiral straightened in his seat, his brow furrowed and frowning. He was serious, pushing down any emotional reaction. "The Eagle? Well, I knew it was only a matter of time before it showed up again. Queen Jool was the one who stole it from its hangar bay, then?"

Ana nodded after a moment of studying Van's response. "Yeah. I don't have too much other information I can give away without endangering the agent, but I don't doubt you can find the Sith with just that." the woman glanced over her shoulder and sighed. "Gotta go." Then the line was cut.

Van frowned and shut his eyes. The Eagle. "The past doesn't die, does it?" he sighed to himself. He pushed himself upright and placed his finger on the communcator for his secretary. "Deirdre, can you get me the sub-commander of intelligence and... get me the head of the gang the Sith stole from in the mid-levels. We should have him in custody."

"Yes sir," the Twi'lek woman – also the Admiral's bodyguard – said from the other end of the line.

Van leaned, weary and pained, back into his seat and felt another jolt run down his bad leg. "The past just doesn't die," he remarked as the pain faded. He gripped his thigh and waited for the next jolt of pain. "No matter how far you bury it."

SWSWSWSWSW

Leon frowned as he and Deranis approached the ship, where Mari and Erea waited for them. The Knight shook his head and sighed. "I hope you two have good news," he said, letting his hands fall to his side.

Mari shook her head. "Everyone I asked who was here back then just blanked out when the question was asked. This wasn't just the passage of time, either – it was a mind-trick," Mari said.

"Same with everyone I asked," Erea said, frowning. "I don't think Revan wanted to be followed."

"Well, it's up to us to find out where he went, and I'm betting either our client or our target – maybe both – has a clue of where we should head," Deranis piped up, turning to Leon. "We can steal whatever we need in the Aratech datacenters while on the job."

"Which is?" Erea asked.

Leon sighed. "That's what I'm not happy about," he said with a sigh. He glanced between Mari and Erea. "We're kidnapping someone."