No one else stopped them when they made it to the roof. Ru had taken up position on a platform on the building's antenna. Bariq soon caught up to them, but he made his way to a power generator on the roof, occasionally giving an evil giggle as he messed around with the wires inside. "Tell me this trip was worth it?" Zar asked Tor.

Tor nodded. "The symbols are in a dialect spoken by a group of villages some distance away from Paragua. Unfortunately, we'll have to walk there after awhile, the jungle is too thick for the Shyyyo Talon to find a good landing site, and we can't afford to scare off the villagers. They told me that they're experts at hiding and know the jungle like—"

"We got company!" hissed Ru from above. "A customized ITT just came in!"

All of the team save Ru moved over to the roof's ledge. Dendro lowered the two Rebels to the ground before glancing over. And then his jaw dropped. "What in Kohlma—?!"

"What is it?" Tor asked, readying a thermal detonater. "Nothing some explosives can't solve, I hope?"

"I don't know," the Besalisk replied, still staring down over the ledge. "They either brought in a Shell Hutt or a Rathtar in a tank. Either way, it's big, well-armed, and ugly."

They all looked down. As Zar zoomed in with his visor's scope, he saw that Dendro wasn't far off the mark. What looked an unnaturally obese, slimy, and ugly human in a strained black Imperial uniform and a personal multi-legged walker was walking down the ramp of an ITT that was bigger than the normal model. He had sharpened teeth, red cybernetic prosthetic eyes, and a pair of massive three fingered robotic arms. There was also a nasty looking cannon on the back, reminding Zar greatly of a Clone Wars AT-TE walker. He looked up at the building with those evil red eyes for a moment before he spoke.

"Attention to the criminal filth infecting my planet!" roared the blob in a deep artificial voice. Zar shuddered; that voice reminded him of another mechanical Imperial. "In case it has escaped your feeble mental capacities, know now that you are impeding the will of Emperor Palpatine! But I present to you a rare opportunity! Whoever gives me the Rebels will walk away a free being! To the rest of you, should you surrender now, not only will you live, but you will work for the benefit of the Empire! You'll be sent to labor camps on the harshest planets we can find, working tirelessly to amend for your crimes against the galaxy! And at the end, when your limbs have been broken, when the light in your eyes have faded, and when your wills have shattered, we will end your service quickly and painlessly! Continue to test my generosity…and the Emperor and Lord Vader themselves will help me ensure that your screams, and the screams of every one of your associates, friends, and family will echo throughout the cosmos! I am Moff Commodus Locus, recently appointed Governor of Yuca, veteran Clone Wars General, and the Butcher of Umbara! My service will only end when death takes me! The Empire! Is! ETERNAL!"

The silence was deafening. The building, the city, even the jungle went quiet. Zar and his team started at each for a few moments in silence. "What is with these Imperials?" asked Bariq, as he shook his head. "It's like the Empire is a magnet for bringing in the ugliest zealots in the galaxy."

Zar thought he had a valid point, but there was no time for that, and he turned to Dendro. "Wake our friends up. Just make sure they don't try and kill us."

The Besalisk nodded, used one hand each to grab the Rebels hands, and with the upper hands used a stim on each of them to wake them up. Naturally, Nailah was the first to fully awaken, and she immediately started thrashing. As Kashvi fully came to, Nailah opened her mouth to scream, but Dendro's hand clamped over it. "Shut up!" he hissed at the duo. "That Moff Vullex warned us about is down there with an army! And quit struggling, I could wrestle Gundarks just after I hatched, so you two have no chance!"

Nailah glared, but did as he asked. As soon as her hand was free, she hissed, "Only you fools could get the Imps here so fast!"

"Actually," Tor replied with a rare bite of impatience in his voice, "you did. An officer said they spotted you."

Zar thought she blushed, though it was hard to tell. "Please," Kashvi whispered, "let us go, and we'll take them on together. None of us will survive if we're fighting each other instead of the Imps."

"How do we know you won't blast us once they're gone?" asked Zar. "I'd rather trust a Coruscanti Senator than you two."

They were interrupted by the door opening. "Take them alive!" snarled Iros, the Gran more livid than ever, and several other goons of different species behind him as they stalked towards the motley band. "The Rebels are our tickets out of here, and the crew is worth 10,000 credits if we get them to the Hutts!"

Zar didn't reach for his rifle or blasters, he knew he'd get blasted to pieces. Thankfully they had their amphibious friend's secret weapon. To distract the Gran, Zar pointed up. "What's that?" Iros snapped at him, his shotgun aimed at Zar's face. "You think I'm going to look up so you can—!"

Ru leapt down from his perch with superb acrobatic skill, drew the pole from his back as he landed on the roof of the door, and pressed a button.

A yellow blade buzzed and hummed into existence.

Every eye except the four Talons locked onto it. Almost every jaw had fallen open, including the Rebel duo. Too late, the crooks realized their mistake, and turned around back to the group. Zar's rifle and Bariq's custom three barreled ion blaster cut down most of them, while the other Talons and the Rebels' blasters shot the remaining crooks or at least scared most of them away. Iros wasn't done though; he had thrown himself behind an air duct, and sent some blasts Ru's way. Ru was ready though, and darted between other air ducts in between blasts, until he got close enough to rush the Gran. He slid through the Gran's legs, speared the other end of the lightsaber pike through his goggle straps, and hurled Iros over him. The Gran landed with a cracking sound, hopefully the result of some broken bones. Iros scrambled to his feet, the goggles sliding off of him, and as he ran towards the door, he shouted, "This isn't the end of it, Talons! I'll finish what we started on Cantonica!"

While the scum disappeared, Zar had made sure to draw a pistol with one hand, and kept it in Nailah and Kashvi's direction. As the Rebels turned around, they noticed it, but calmly holstered their own weapons. For a moment, the only sound was the new sounds of blasterfire coming from below. The Imps were fighting the patrons now.

"Happy?" Nailah asked. "You have us five to one, we're not going to try our luck now. Especially now that we know there's a Jedi with you."

Ru actually laughed as he walked towards them, extinguishing and sheathing the pike. "I'm no Jedi!" he guffawed. "We found this in a tomb and I decided to put it to better use than collecting dust and webs. I do hope the Jedi who had it would approve of my skill though."

Nailah and Kashvi actually looked horrified and offended. "What?" asked Ru, as he put on the goggles he acquired from Iros. "Whoever was in that tomb is too dead to care about it now. In our line of work, if you don't use whatever is within reach, you lose it. Or worse, the Empire will get it instead."

That at least got rid of the offended looks, but they still looked disapproving. "Fair point," sighed Kashvi. "On to more important matters. If you'd be kind enough to get us away from the Imps, and take us north—"

Nailah nudged her comrade, her face tense. But the look on Tor's face worried Zar more. "That's where my colleagues told us to go," he whispered to Zar. "Looks like we don't have a choice."

This was a nasty shock, but Zar quickly recovered. "Play along with this," he whispered back. Then he gave a massive sigh, and said out loud, "As much as it pains me to say it, this trip has become more trouble than its worth, and I don't want to keep putting up with the Rebels tailing us. We'll take your job, but if it's more dangerous than what you're telling us, it'll cost you double at least, or we'll walk."

The others stared at him in shock, the horrified kind from his comrades, the suspicious kind from the Rebels. "Why should we trust you?" Nailah demanded.

Zar shrugged and spread his hands. The others caught on at once. "We were hunting for some easy money, but we hit a dead end, so now we need a well paying job to make up for it. I assume you Rebels at least have enough credits to do that?"

The Twi'lek stared at him for a moment, until a small explosion shook the whole building. Then she offered her hand, and said, "Deal."

Zar shook it briefly and they began to discuss their escape plan.

Locus frowned. Unfortunately, he knew his body was so massive, the Emperor could probably see his frown all the way from Coruscant. But he had to show his disapproval somehow and he couldn't always kill his troopers to do it. Good soldiers were hard to come by. "Commander Anvil!" he addressed his most trusted officer. "I said no explosives!"

The Clone nodded. He was one of the few active Clones still left in the Empire, if he had served under any other officer, they would have processed him out. But Locus didn't want to waste such an experienced soldier, especially since he owed the Clone his life, so he managed to keep him as a tactical officer. Thanks to the advanced aging process, his close cut hair and mustache were grey, and he wasn't the Clone he used to be, but he still moved sharply to berate the Stormtroopers. "Have you forgotten your orders already?!" he barked at the troops. "We need those Rebels alive! Unless you'd rather explain to the Emperor or Lord Vader on why we still haven't found the Rebels' base on Yuca?"

The troops hastily offered their apologies and kept their hands away from their thermal detonators. As they did so, a Rodian made a mad dash out the door, his rifle firing bolts everywhere. Locus sighed, and raised the armor so on the outside, he actually did look like a walking tank. He glared at the scum through the cockpit visor, raised an arm, and fired a blast that evaporated the alien's head clean off. Locus turned to Anvil. "Cover me, Commander. I'm going to give the traitors inside some more motivation."

Locus stomped towards the Rodian, picked him up with one hand, and then walked to the door. He couldn't actually fit, so he just barged through it instead, sending debris everywhere. The criminals were still all over the place, but looked shocked at the new arrival. Locus raised the Rodian like a trophy and spoke to them. "See this filthy alien? This is an example of what happens when you defy the Empire. I do not lie when I say that he was one of the lucky ones; I've seen far worse fates brought upon Rebels, traitors, and criminals. If I had it my way, I'd bring this whole building down on you all right now, and drag out the survivors for processing. But the Emperor has charged us with a mission. This is your last chance: give me the Rebels, and you can all go free. If not—"

A handful of thermal detonators fell like rain and pinged off his suit. The explosions followed immediately after, but Locus had braced himself, and was not afraid. His armor was too strong; if his enemies wanted to really hurt him, they'd have to bring something bigger to the table.

As if in reply, a handful of what looked like old training remotes, like the ones the Jedi used, floated down. Before he could get a shot off, the remotes burst and released a small barrage of EMPs. It wasn't enough to shut his suit down completely, but Locus's controls still went haywire, and he struggled to regain control. Thankfully, he heard a rush of footsteps behind him, and he heard Anvil shout out to his troops, "Stun them! We need those Rebels!"

There were a few more explosions, and chunks of the walls were blown out, creating an escape for the patrons. As the patrons began to flee through them, Locus finally regained control, and raised his arms ready to fire a few shots at these insolent fools like his subordinates were doing.

And then there was a deafening screeching sound. His troops fell to their knees, trying to shield their ears from the painful noise, even Locus tried to block it out. "Fall back!" he ordered, and Anvil and the others retreated. "Get the squads to chase after these criminals! We cannot afford to let them—!"

A final explosion echoed through the building; it sounded like it had come from the roof. A few seconds later, and the debris from above collapsed on top of him, battering every inch of his suit. The sound was almost as bad as the screech from earlier. But then it stopped, and there was blissful quiet, apart from some shifting rubble. Locus took a moment to recover, then charged his cannon. The debris erupted into the sky like lava from a volcano. After what felt like a century of shifting and getting through the rubble, Locus finally climbed out the wreckage, with triumph beating through his veins at once again cheating death.

Anvil hurried towards him, concern and relief etched into his battle scarred face. "Thank the stars you're alive! Forgive me sir, but we haven't found the Rebels." But his mouth formed into a rare smirk. "However, we do have a lead."

Locus nodded and followed him down the rubble. The Stormtroopers were bringing in patrons that they had captured during their escape attempt. A pair of them held a two eyed Gran, his eyes huge with fear. "General Locus," he stammered. "I've heard about what you did in the Clone Wars…please, you have to believe me, neither me or my underlings ever fired a shot at you, we would never—!"

He cut off when Locus's hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. Locus's front armor fell away to show the Gran what was left of his body. What little breaths the Gran could manage were filled with fear. "Commander," Locus addressed Anvil. "Are we certain those aliens over there know nothing about the Rebels?"

Anvil looked at a trio of cuffed aliens who were on their knees; the troopers guarding them shook their heads, and backed away. They knew what was going to happen, they had seen it many times before. Anvil waved a sardonic hand at them, his features grim. Locus grunted and then fired his cannon at them. The blast vaporized them instantly, and left a sizeable crater, scattering debris everywhere. "Where are the Rebels?" Locus calmly asked the Gran.

The Gran was shaking in utter terror. "The Twi'lek and Togruta ran off…b-but they were with some bounty hunters, the crew of the Shyyyo Talon! They're led by a Mandalorian named Zaram Atoll! Those fools always leave behind a trail of chaos the size of the Kaliida Nebula! Finding them won't be hard!"

Anvil was already talking to another officer. The Clone nodded when they were done, and said, "We have confirmation from some of our troops that they sighted the Rebels in a new group. One of the individuals was indeed wearing red and white Mandalorian armor."

Locus stared at the Gran for a minute…on the one hand, he'd love to take some anger out on this criminal…but he was starving after all of this, and killing the Gran so close might ruin his appetite. Besides, he did give them useful info. He dropped the Gran, and said, "I will give you to the count of three, but no more. One—"

The Gran was already tearing off as if Lord Vader himself was chasing after him. Locus shrugged, and ordered Anvil, "Prepare my transport, and whichever officers were in the station that let the hunters pass, bring them to my quarters. And tell the chefs to get a move on, I'm always hungry after battle!"

"I forgot to tell you," said Zar, "but we charge extra for dealing when dealing with Shell Hutts."

They had taken the Talon back out into the jungle, far away from any city, and any psychopathic Moffs. And they were once again dealing with their client in the recreation room, only this time, there were no or at least fewer illusions on what was going on, and Nailah had a much more polite Togruta friend with her. "I wish that was a Shell Hutt," muttered Kashvi, and she actually shuddered. "That was Commodus Locus; he's done things that would make the Shell Hutts, and even the normal Hutts queasy."

Zar tilted his head. "Such as?"

Nailah had been studying a datapad, and now she looked up from it, her face grim and horrified. "For starters, he just crushed the head of his rival Moff this morning, supposedly on accounts of bribery and aiding the enemy. Then there's how he helped maintain Imperial control on Umbara after they lost in the Clone Wars. Mass executions, torture, prison camps, and that's only what we know he did. And you don't want to know what he's done since becoming a Moff…"

"How did he end up like that?" asked Dendro, both sets of arms crossed, and a frown on his face. "A result of his time on Umbara?"

Nailah just stared stonily at him while Kashvi nodded. "A missile hit his squadron in the final stages of the campaign. He barely survived and was outfitted with a prototype life support suit. It's also thanks to Umbara that he began his vendetta against non-humans," she added bitterly.

Tor stared at the duo over clasped hands, and then politely asked, "Now that we'll be working together, what will be our first mission? Since I suspect that it's nothing as simple as blowing up a factory…unfortunately," he added, as he grabbed and twirled a thermal detonator.

The Twi'lek stared at him with slightly less hostility. She still seemed to like Tor the most, but it was clear she still wasn't over being shot out in an escape pod. "We'll wait until we're back at base before we talk about our plans."

"And what about our payment?" asked Bariq stiffly, his arms crossed. "Attacking Imperials is going to cost you Rebels more than 50,000."

"I'm sorry, sir Jawa," apologized Kashvi. The Jawa's chest swelled at that; Nailah groaned out loud, and the rest of the Talons smirked and chuckled. "We can't promise an exact sum, that will be up to our commanding officer. But I promise you, should you do the job well, I'll help make sure the reward matches the quality of your work."

Bariq actually ducked his head, embarrassed. "I'm taking a shot in the dark here," grunted Ru, as he did maintenance on his lightsaber pike, "but we're not taking a speeder to your base, right?"

Nailah gave a nasty smile that for some reason chilled Zar's soul. "Your instincts serve you well, Drabatan. We'll be going through the jungle on foot. None of you are very familiar with Yuca's wildlife or flora, so you'll do exactly what I say, when I say it. Unless you want to fall right into a nest of Yucabras."

"I'm so glad that I get to stay here on the Talon," said SN; the droid had wisely remained quiet during negotiations, but of course he couldn't help himself if the opportunity came along. "By the way, it says in my contract that if the crew should all perish, all of whatever they were promised goes to me."

"You're coming too, clanker," snapped Nailah, her smile gone. "I'm not taking any more chances with you lot."

SN gave a start, then shuffled on over to Dendro. "I'm staying with the Besalisk with the massive cannons then."

After everyone had packed enough supplies, the team filed out of the ship, ready for round two with the jungle…hopefully. As Dendro walked out with his guns back on, Kashvi gasped. "Are those X-Wing cannons?!"

The Besalisk looked impressed. "Yes, they are. You sure know your equipment, ma'am."

Kashvi looked hesitant, while Nailah glared with newfound suspicion at Dendro. "How…how did you get them?"

Dendro took on a more somber look. "At first it wasn't an X-Wing's cannons, believe it or not. An A-Wing crashed on my homeworld; it was trying to take on a whole squadron of TIEs, but it didn't last long. The pilot was a Nautolan, unfortunately, he was already dead when my family and I got him out. Rest assured, we made sure he got a proper burial. The fighter was damaged beyond repair, it couldn't fly again, but we were able to save the cannons, so I thought I'd put them to good use against the Imps. A year before you Rebels took out the Death Star, me and the rest of the Talons were on Ryloth when an X-Wing tried attacking a slave convoy. Poor soul got shot down quickly and the Imps went on their way. Just like the Nautolan, we buried the Twi'lek pilot somewhere where the gutkurrs couldn't get him, and salvaged the cannons."

The Togruta still looked shaken, but seemed satisfied with the explanation. "You fought the Imps?" asked Nailah. "When was this? Think I would have heard if a Besalisk like you had joined the Rebels."

Dendro looked away, a dark angry look in his eyes. Tor walked up to him and clasped his shoulder. Dendro raised a hand to assure his friend he was okay, and then replied, "Believe me, it's a story you don't want to hear."

Nailah opened her mouth to argue some more, but Kashvi nudged her friend firmly, her face stern. The Twi'lek looked taken aback and dropped the subject. Zar made sure to mentally file that potentially useful info away, just in case, before he turned to get a better look at the jungle. He noticed that there was a lot more colorful flora this time around. Flowers the size of a full grown human fought each other for the best spots along the trees' roots. What looked like fruits as big as his helmet hung in droves from countless branches or the tops of the shorter trees. Less welcome were the insects that buzzed around the team and the plants; thankfully they were not as big as Geonosians, but still too big to squash with his hands or boots. Zar raised a blaster at one that was buzzing too close for his liking, but Nailah motioned at him to stand down. "They'll leave us alone for the most part," she grunted as she made her way towards a small path between the trees. "But if you kill one, it'll bring a whole swarm on us. I've seen small squads of comrades and Stormtroopers literally devoured, or worse, stung to death by those things."

Zar holstered his blaster, then hesitantly, he and the others followed her into the heart of the jungle.

Brogan stood stiffly at attention, trying not to let his disgust or his nervousness show. He calmed himself down; he had worked it all out, and he had rehearsed his lines a thousand times. Thankfully it soothed his nerves…the nausea from watching his new superior and Yuca's new Governor, was a whole other story.

The Rebels and the Talons had gotten away, and by dropping a building on Locus no less. So Locus had returned to his residence, called his underlings to his dining room, and was currently inhaling a feast so messily it would have made Jabba the Hutt blush. Incredibly, Commander Anvil stood by his side, seemingly unaffected by his leader's behavior. Locus would have said he ate when he was angry, but he was always eating when he wasn't on the job. Then again, Brogan supposed that he couldn't really blame him, there wasn't much one could still enjoy with most of their original body gone after all. He glanced at his fellow officers, who were hiding their own reactions with varying degrees of success and failure. All that was left now, was to see when Locus would finally stop stuffing his greasy face.

Finally, Locus stopped eating, and sipped from a wine glass. "One thing that must be said for the late Moff Septimus," he noted, and belched. Brogan could have sworn that it shook the windows. "He had excellent taste in wine. It's fortunate that he managed to build up a substantial collection of Alderaanian wine, so hard to find since the planet itself was turned to dust. But forgive me, I shouldn't be wasting the time of the Empire's officers by prattling on about drinks."

The Moff leaned back in his hover chair. Thankfully, he wasn't in his tank suit, and he had replaced his massive three fingered arms in exchange for smaller, but still deadly arms. "Lieutenant Sors, step forward."

The gaunt and dark haired officer stepped forward. Brogan braced himself. The next few minutes would decide it. "You were one of the officers stationed on Outpost 7," said Locus, peering at him over steepled fingers.

Sors looked confused and wary. "Yes, Moff Locus. I'm not sure what that has to—"

"I've received proof that you've been accepting bribes from various criminals," the Moff continued calmly, though Brogan could already feel the hatred and anger emanating from him. "Including the ones responsible for helping the Rebels, the crew of the Shyyyo Talon."

"With all due respect," snapped Sors in a not at all respectful voice, "that's a lie, Moff Locus! My whole family has been serving the Empire for generations, ever since the days of the Republic—!"

Locus turned it on the table's holoprojector. Images of Sors with various criminals, including the Talons, buzzed into existence. "Anyone can fake a holorecording—!"

The Moff turned off the hologram, took a bag from the table, and upended it. Various credits and currency fell on the table, many bouncing off to the floor. He flaunted a strange red coin in his hand. "These were found in your quarters," Locus noted, the anger starting to creep into his voice. "This type of currency comes from Mahalos. The same planet that's been noted to have been visited by several of the criminals here…including the Talons."

The color had drained from Sors's face. He stared at the Moff for a few moments, then his hand went for his blaster. Anvil shot him before he could even raise it and the former lieutenant dropped to the floor. "As you can guess," Locus addressed the two remaining officers, "I wish the Emperor still made Clones like Commander Anvil. True, there were one or two traitors, but the overwhelming majority of them made fine, skilled, and loyal servants."

He clapped his hands. The door behind them opened and a pair of Stormtroopers walked through. They dragged Sors's body out with them. "As for you two," boomed Locus, and he began stuffing more food into his face, "it's time we talked about—"

A Rodian servant flew and tripped into the room, his normally green face almost out of color. "Sir!" he gasped. "H—h—he's here to see you!"

"What is the meaning of this, you filthy creature?!" the Moff roared, spraying food all over the place. Brogan winced as it hit his uniform. "I'm in the middle of—!"

Then they began to hear it. Faintly at first: a guttural, rasping breath, sucking in air as if each breath could be its last. And then it repeated again. And again. And it only kept getting louder and nearer. Brogan felt an icy hand squeeze his very soul. He'd only heard that sound once before. He still had nightmares about it.

It was as if the very light itself had fled the room in terror. The tall black…thing, had entered the room, and brushed past Brogan's right side as if he wasn't even there. The Rodian bolted out of the room. Brogan wished he could have done the same right now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the big blonde officer start sweating as much as Brogan was right now. Anvil had gone even more stiff, and there was some intimidation even on his features, but he didn't tremble in fear like Brogan was doing…yet. Locus had choked on his food and spat it out in a hurry to try and get his breath back. He wiped as much of the mess of his face as he could, before he looked up at the monster before him.

"Moff Locus," said Darth Vader, his hands hooked into his belt as he looked down on the Moff, who now looked like a tiny bug in comparison to the Emperor's right hand.

Locus stared warily at Vader, but managed a brisk nod. "Lord Vader. I…I had no idea you were coming here."

"As did I," replied Vader. "But the Emperor wished to know of the progress on Yuca, so he sent me to ensure everything was on schedule. He thought it was for the best that you were kept in the dark about it. After all, one can best see what their servants are really doing when they aren't looking over their shoulder for their masters. Don't you agree?"

The Moff slowly steepled his fingers and nodded. "True, very true. I was just taking care of a traitor before you arrived. The second one today, actually. I assume you heard about Septimus?"

Vader nodded. "I have. Congratulations are in order. But first, what is the status of Project Uraeus?"

Locus took a breath before answering. "I have no excuses for you, Lord Vader. We still haven't found the correct site; apart from dealing with the local fauna, we've been hard pressed to find beings who speak the original ancient Yucari language, and even harder to find the native Yucari themselves. I know it will most likely mean nothing to you, but the few items of note we have found, have already been sent back to Coruscant. And the kyber crystals have of course been sent to the other project."

Amazingly, Vader didn't proceed to strangle him with that strange mystical power, or simply cut the Moff's head off. But Brogan could still feel the irritation and anger pouring off of him. Then he slowly turned towards Brogan and the other officer. "Perhaps I can find ways to motivate the workers," Vader said softly. "Or are we sure it's not the fault of our promising new officers?"

The blond officer looked outraged and began to speak. Brogan shut his eyes in preparation. "Lord Vader, I must protest! We've been tearing this planet apart day and night! And we're still undermanned, our last request for more personnel was completely ignored! You can't possibly—!"

The officer cut off and began to choke for breath. Brogan cracked an eye open and saw Vader pinching his finger and thumb together. "Of course I can," Vader answered casually. "I've seen subordinates with fewer resources accomplish far more with the right encouragement."

"Forgive me, Lord Vader," interrupted Locus, a hesitant but firm look on his face. "But Lieutenant Anax is correct that we're shorthanded as it is. It would be more beneficial to us if we didn't have him join Sors today."

A moment passed as Anax wheezed for precious oxygen on his knees. "Duly noted," said Vader in a slightly grudging tone, and his hand dropped. Anax collapsed to the floor, gulping huge breaths of air.

Locus looked relieved and motioned for Anax to leave. The lieutenant staggered off, a hand to his throat. As the door closed behind him, it almost sounded like a guillotine dropping to Brogan. He noticed both of Vader's hands were back on his belt, but one of them had inched towards his lightsaber. "And why is he here?" Vader boomed, that terrible mask fixed on him.

"Since Sors will no longer be heading back to the surface," Locus replied, "I was going to have him reassigned there immediately. Sorry my boy, I know you had only just finished your first shift rotation on the surface, but duty calls."

Brogan felt slight outrage at being sent back into the middle of a Rebel and monster ridden jungle planet, but he held his tongue. He didn't want to end up like Sors or Anax. "Tell me," said Vader suddenly. "How do you get the locals to follow your orders? I would like to know why you and the others have so far failed to deliver on your Empire's demands?"

Brogan resisted the urge to wipe his forehead, which was soaked in sweat. His reply would decide his fate. "At first we tried torture," he managed to get out. "But that only resulted in them giving us false answers to spite us. Then we attempted to hold the fates of their families over their heads, but some of them took their own lives, leaving us with nothing. I've been buying the loyalty of the locals in my division with certain items: medical supplies, better provisions—"

That gloved hand crept closer to the lightsaber, while the other hand raised up, and pointed a finger at him. Brogan knew if Vader really wanted to, a simple gesture from it could turn him into a stain on the wall. "You've been wasting Imperial supplies on them? We shouldn't be bargaining with them; we should be commanding them."

Brogan forced himself to look at Vader's mask. He wondered if Vader even had any eyes behind that mask, or if he really was a droid under there. He couldn't even begin to guess. "My Lord, the Emperor himself forbid us to use our normal methods of finding the site. We can't raze the entire jungle to the ground, we have to pick our digging sites carefully, and even then, the Emperor commanded us to dig with the utmost caution, saying that whatever is in the site could prove disastrous if it's opened up carelessly. So we have no choice but to rely on the locals; getting them to work us for willingly, if reluctantly, have given my and other divisions that use similar methods the best results out of all the others."

More moments passed by like hours…but to his enormous relief, Vader's hand moved away from the lightsaber. "Not bad, Brogan," chuckled Locus, and he poured another full glass of wine. "You could count the number of people, even within the Empire, who can reason with Lord Vader with one hand. Who knows, if you keep improving, you may even be the one to rid us of these new bounty hunters—"

Vader's gaze quickly shifted to Locus. "What bounty hunters?"

Locus nodded and clicked a button on the table. A hologram appeared, showing Zar and the others. "A bounty hunter team recently arrived here," Locus grunted with annoyance. "Not much information on them other than that they use a ship called the Shyyyo Talon—"

"Zaram Atoll," said Vader. "The Mandalorian from Scarif."

Brogan did his best not to panic. Locus's jaw dropped. "You know him?" Locus demanded.

Vader nodded slightly, not breaking his focus off the hologram. "Many years ago, he attempted to assassinate the Emperor. Once we stopped and captured him, he was a prisoner for some time, until he, a reprogrammed droid, and a few other Imperial slaves managed to escape. During the escape attempt, they stole several historical items, many of which contained maps or coordinates to long lost cities, cultures, and supposed riches."

Locus fixed his own red eyes on the hologram now as well. "Really," he breathed, and then gave a chuckle. "I do believe we have a possible way to speed up Project Uraeus."

That terrible black helmet turned to the Moff. "What do you mean?"

"If he's using those maps," Locus answered, a grin forming on his ugly face, "then it's quite possible he's trying to find the same thing we are. I propose we continue our own excavations, just in case we find it or any other items first. But at the same time, we'll have spies find and tail him, and should he stumble across it, we'll be ready."

Vader was silent for awhile. "Very well," he eventually answered. "We'll try it your way. But be warned, Commodus Locus," he added, and Locus turned to him, looking confused. "I attempted a similar plan, and due to…unforeseen circumstances, it resulted in the Death Star's destruction. I have paid dearly for that mistake. If you should fail…I cannot guarantee the Emperor will allow you the same mercy he showed me."

Locus went pale, but he nodded, and said, "Of course, Lord Vader."

Vader gave a slight nod. "Moff Locus," he said, and then he walked past Brogan, and left two nerve wracked Imperials behind him.