DROMUND KAAS: IMPERIAL INTELLIGENCE HEADQUARTERS
The control center was a large gray room with console upon console lining the walls. In the middle of the room, the floor was lowered and likewise packed with consoles giving way to even more consoles. At one end of the room a gigantic red screen showed various shifting analytic data, whereas a raised area overlooking the rest of the room dominated the other end.
Sitting at one of the console sections, at the far side of the room furthest away from the command area, a human male in his thirties was complaining intensely to an orange skinned Zabrak male first in his twenties.
"I tell you, Dax. We were so much better off when we slaughtered the republic scum, instead of this outrageous peace. Better pay. Better status. I tell you Dax, it was better times." The human Minder exclaimed to the Zabrak at the neighboring console. Linn Creed was a bold man of average height and weight, his only noticeable features being a black goatee and piercing icy blue eyes.
In front of his table, with a cup of caf in hand, Terrow, now fully grown and with a dozen horns protruding from his short red hair, was looking through fund transactions, that could be linked to a possible terror cell. Clad in the typical imperial uniform assigned to a Fixer, Terrow, now only known as Daxten Halan, had successfully assumed his cover identity and hid from his unknowing Sith persecutors in plain sight. The green eyed Zabrak looked at his monitor as he muttered a reply, "So you miss the good old times, Linn? the good old over-time we had to endure? All the sleepless nights and all the harassment for being too slow at our impossibly demanding work?"
"Come on Dax. At least people got butchered! Can't you remember the excitement of seeing which star-systems were first to be burned to ashes. Seeing the frightened little faces on the vid, just before their inevitable end," Linn pointed out with enthusiasm.
Terrow raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure you haven't had enough caf already? Your sounding sadistic again."
"Ahh... You're no fun today," Linn resigned a bit disappointed.
Terrow just shrugged and turned his full attention to the work at hand.
Just then a priority distress call came in on the speakers, "This is Lord Briza of the Imperial army, does anyone copy?!
Terrow nearly fell out of his chair when he heard the unmistakably familiar voice of his older sister. Even through a quickly scrambled emergency call, she still sounded exactly like he remembered from all those years ago.
One of the Imperial intelligence forces quickly responded to the distress call, "We read you loud and clear, my lord."
"I have vital information for the dark council! I demand a docking hangar, immediately!" Briza ordered.
"Clearance granted milord, I'm sending you the coordinates now," The officer informed post haste. "We have forwarded your request to address the dark council."
"Good, prepare for my immediate arrival," Briza replied satisfied, cut the connection and began the landing procedure.
"Finally something is happening!" Linn exclaimed in his chair. "Let's hope those republic filths are behind it. They could use a good eradication!"
One of their superior officers, Watcher Nilliun, a black haired man in his late forties with graying temples and a mustache, looked sharply at the upbeat agent. "Minder Creed, we all admire your eagerness. But! Do I have to remind you, to keep your thoughts to yourself, again?!"
"No sir, I'll remember," Linn acknowledged with a lowered head. Afterwards, when his superior was out of ear range, he started up again, this time grumbling curses to himself.
A few minutes later Briza entered the intelligence headquarters. She was battered and wounded, but she still held herself high, her determination marking her as a Sith lord.
Richard Nilliun bowed as she entered, "Watcher twelve at your disposal, my lord."
Briza didn't care for his courtesy, she just wanted to get to the business at hand, "Show me to a comm terminal at once!" she demanded firmly.
"Right this way!" Richard quickly replied and moved with all haste.
As she was led to an available comm station, Briza took a quick glance around the enormous office complexe. She nearly stopped in her tracks when she noticed Terrow, of all people, sitting at one of the comm stations. He gave her a quick look as confirmation that it was him, before returning to his work like nothing was amiss. "He is rather good at concealing his presence, even I couldn't sense him," she thought to herself with a sense of pride, as she was shown to a private chamber.
"This comm chamber is prepared with a secure connection directly to the dark council," Richard quickly explained to the impatient Sith lord.
"Very well, I will call, if I have further need for you," Briza stated directly.
Richard made a quick bow, "As you wish." With the door sliding shut behind him, he quickly returned to his desk, continuing his work where he had left it.
Alone in the room, the holo connection flashed a few times, before showing the whole dark council in front of her. Even as holographic figures, Briza could feel the intense dark powers around her. She knew that they, even at this distance, could kill her if they so desired. She staggered a little as she pondered how best to address them. She decided to bow as a sign of deep respect.
"You may speak child," Darth Marr ordered, as his and all the other council member's eyes came upon the young Sith lord.
Briza quickly got her wits about her and began recounting the events that had transpired, of how she had survived, and of what had happened at the station.
Darth Mortis studied the Zabrak in the hologram, "Rebel mercenaries you say, and what... you say you felt your master die? As your own ship turned on you, did you sense anything else?"
"No I didn't. It was like a mist... no... like a shadow had befallen our dreadnought," Briza politely reported.
Marr, who had spoken earlier, turned a bit in his seat as he pondered the possibilities, "It is likely that your master, Darth Veness, have been murdered."
Briza swallowed as she listened to the debate unfolding.
"But who? The republic isn't likely to be behind this attack," Darth Hadra commented a bit puzzled.
Mortis pondered the question, "This threat, hiding in the shadows, has likely done so for some time."
"If what you say is true, then I have to congratulate you on a brilliant escape to bring us this news," Darth Vowrawn congratulated with a cheerful attitude.
"Thank you my lord," Briza bowed slightly, in appreciation.
"Imperial intelligence has already confirmed her story. The dreadnought named Hellfire, is now under rebel control," Darth Jadus reaffirmed. "A strike team should be assembled to deal with the rebel plague as soon as possible."
There was a general murmur of agreement, followed by some disagreement on who should handle the matter.
"But what is to be done with this excellent child?" Darth Vowrawn casually inquiring about Briza's future.
"She will serve me. Her master Darth Veness was already part of my domain and Veness' sister happens to be my apprentice," Mortis staked his claim.
"I concur, but... that also means it will be your responsibility to make sure law and order is kept in that sector. You will likely need four qualified Sith lords and a brigade to back them," Marr demanded in turn.
Mortis acknowledged with a nod, "If this is to be my burden, so be it. I will assemble a strike force and deal with this rebel uprising," he spoke with the distaste clearly audible in his voice.
"It seems we are all in agreement," Darth Marr concluded the meeting.
"Child, come to my office, there we will discuss your assignment in detail," Mortis commanded in a subtle, but firm voice.
Briza bowed as she accepted the order, "Yes my lord, I will go to you at once."
"Good, I'll be expecting you," Mortis replied and ended the transmission.
Briza wasted no time, as she exited the imperial intelligence compound, she ordered a taxi to take her to her new superior's stronghold.
TYTHON: KALIKORI VILLAGE
A colorful presentation was unfolding before their eyes, as rhythmic music played and a dozen female and male dancers entered the stage, each dressed more colorful than the next.
Most of the audience felt entranced by the music, some even had trouble keeping themselves from dancing to the tunes. Mathorn stood as a teenager, staring intensely at the Twi'lek dancers as he imagined being a king in his own palace with all these wonderful dancers, dancing around him on his behalf.
It was impossible for the remainder of the Jedi group to ignore the vibe that was emanating from him. Tikala and Jonathan shared a concerned look as their rude companion kept leining further and further over rails.
"I sense... he wants to mate," Urr'Tar mumbled the obvious.
Reniuz, who noticed the impolite Jedi, walked over with long determined strides. The entranced young Jedi didn't notice the danger right behind him and only awoke from his daydream when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder.
Mathorn was startled. His face and body language told the story of someone who had just been caught red handed, doing something he without a doubt knew to be wrong, very wrong, "Aaaa... nice show... don't you think?"
Reniuz nodded at his attempt to change the subject. "Yes indeed. They are very talented," after these words, her face turned hard as rock and her expression turned to pure disapproval. "But... you are a Jedi. This behavior of yours isn't tolerated. You may look and admire their craft, but you are not to stare at it, like an ill mannered gang member! Is this understood!?"
Her words rang in the air for a time until Mathorn regained his wits and decided an apology would be his best line of defense. "Sorry master, I'll keep it under control... promise."
"Good. You need to improve your behavior or you will never rise to the rank of knight," Reniuz firmly warned, reminding Mathorn that he had been in trouble several times for his bad behavior. Three times he had nearly been banished.
Tikala relaxed a little, as she watched her childhood friend perform marvelously to the cheering of the crowd.
Both Jonathan and Reniuz were very entertained by the festivities while Urr'Tar on the other hand felt very indifferent, since huge gatherings of loud people was not his cup of caf. Mathorn who just moments ago couldn't contain himself, had become too moody to really enjoy it as much as he had wanted to.
As the show came to a closure, people began gathering in tents were food and drinks were being served. Tikala had been invited over to a private tent were Mile'giko, and some of the remaining Twi'lek performers went to cool off. This annoyed Mathorn, but he said nothing. Instead the trio just found an empty table and sat down to eat.
While they ate, Mathorn noticed people were gathering around the bar, wondering why, he took a closer look and noticed to his delight the reason. "Okay Jonathan, be my wingman," he demanded, his eagerness audible in his voice. He dragged his friend along, over to the crowd, where he had just spotted two of the previously dancing Twi'leks being praised by all kinds of people.
Jonathan just had time to mutter, "Why me." Before he was face to face with the two Twi'lek ladies who were chatting.
"Hello darlings, nice show," Mathorn began, like he had seen on the holonet, and continued with the speech he thought would sound impressive, "Mind being accompanied by two of the coolest Jedi's in the galaxy~."
The two dancers 'one red, one yellow' looked at the Zabrak with an odd expression, "You don't really strike me as a Jedi," replied the yellow Twi'lek in an indifferent and testing tone.
Mathorn was confused as to why the line hadn't worked? "I got the robe, and the lightsaber... am I missing something here?" he showed them proudly, yet confused.
"Sure you do," the yellow Twi'lek mumbled in a tired voice and turned her head to look at the other Jedi, who was accompanying the childish Zabrak. "But who are you?" she asked, suddenly very interested.
"I'm... Jonathan Baliss... and this is my friend-," Jonathan politely introduced himself, while trying to keep his distance, without being rude.
"You have such a pretty face. You must have traveled all over the galaxy, saving people from that evil empire," the red Twi'lek spoke in a soft and charming tone of voice.
Mathorn was stunned, he couldn't speak out of share disappointment and crushed expectations. He was totally demoralized and suddenly felt very empty inside.
"If you want Jedi... we could show you our dance moves, only for you of course," the yellow Twi'lek invited with a soft smile on her lips.
Jonathan was both perplexed and a little scared. He wasn't really used to this kind of confrontation. "Sorry, I don't think it would be right of me to accept your invitation," he politely declined before he got tangled up in something he couldn't handle.
But the Twi'lek's weren't that easily deterred. "Come on, it's going to be fun, we promise," prompted the red Twi'lek in the hope he would give in.
In the meantime Urr'Tar had finished his meal, walked up behind Mathorn and muttered comfortingly, "the black flower is cool enough for me."
"I can't take it! Why does he get the girls?" Mathorn muttered in a low voice, turning to Urr'Tar he asked. "So what do you think, do you find him attractive?"
"The color of his flower is azure and the plant is juicy," Urr'Tar mumbled cryptically, whereafter he wandered over to Jonathan who was in fear of being kidnapped. Urr'Tar just gazed at the flirting dancers and stated, "He is not alive," he waved his right hand as he spoke.
Suddenly the Twi'lek dancers left Jonathan to himself and wandered off completely oblivious of what they had been doing just a moment ago.
"Thank you Urr'Tar, you are a lifesaver. I don't know what they would done to me if you hadn't stepped in," Jonathan thanked with a wide smile.
"Instead of sending them off... couldn't you just have made them like me?" Mathorn asked, moody as ever.
Urr'Tar seemed distant for a moment, before he uttered, "We are called for."
Not a moment later, Tikala came running towards them with Mile'giko following right behind. "Mathorn and Jonathan, we are being called to an emergency meeting with the council. Something bad have just happened!" Tikala stated, urging them to move.
Mathorn nodded quickly and turned to the Mirialan of the gang. "Urr'Tar, you'll save Mile'giko while we save the galaxy. Let's get moving!" he dictated.
Jonathan too nodded and the three of them ran over to one of the parked air speeders and took off.
Mile'giko just looked after them as they disappeared on the horizon. "Best of luck and may the force be with you all," she uttered.
"Hi Lady pretty. I'm supposed to save you, but I don't know how?" Urr'Tar said, clearly confused.
"I'm already saved Urr'Tar. You can just make your way home," Mile'giko softly suggested with her head tilted a little.
"You speak the truth. You are not going to be eradicated," Urr'Tar replied and smiled back at her.
Mile'giko uttered a sigh, but her smile remained.
