"You spend too much time with that agent," Darth Zash told the assassin. Zash would not have summoned her apprentice for anything as insignificant as the death of Watcher X. Someone must have noticed the assassin, someone important, and Zash never wanted an apprentice to eclipse her. So, the assassin stood in the conference room of her ship while Darth Zash tried to intimidate her.

"I owed her a favor," the assassin replied. "Besides, Imperial Intelligence is happy about his death."

"You're supposed to be finding Palladius."

"I'm infiltrating a cult," the assassin said. "It's not like slogging through a toxic waste pit. 'Only ask questions you know the answer to.' Your words, Master. I am testing their intent and their resolve. Palladius has given his followers a tenuous safety. They will abandon him for something more substantive. That's why I stole a cure for them."

"Very well, apprentice," Zash said. "But be warned, you do not want to give Palladius too much time to prepare. Zash out."

"Tulak Hord would not be pleased, little Sith," Khem said. "He would force the followers to betray their master."

"When you want someone to do something," she said. "Let them think it's their idea."

"It is better to conquer."

She smiled at him. "It is better to succeed."


They returned to the Promenade and headed toward the hideout her allies maintained. She stopped within sight of it and whispered to Khem, "They have company." They drew their weapons and slipped into the shadows.

Inside the hideout, they found Destris Veran, Rylee Dray, and some unknown human held captive by a large Weequay and two mercenaries. The assassin and Khem moved toward the mercenaries, while the assassin clouded their minds to mask the approach. But, the mind trick could only do so much. At a certain point, they could no longer deny their senses, they became aware of her. The assassin threw lightning at the Weequay to make him recoil, ignited her saber, stabbed him through the heart, and attacked one of the mercenaries. Khem killed his mercenary, and the assassin finished off hers.

"Better, little Sith," Khem said. She ignored him.

"Any injuries?" the assassin asked the others.

"That was Gar-Nok!" Destris said. "You defeated Paladius's right-hand man!"

"Very good," she said. "I have his attention."

"My lord," the unknown human said. "I was... I was here to give you a gift for helping to cure our families and neighbors of the Rot." He held out a small sum.

The assassin said, "Such gifts are to go to Rylee. She knows best how to use them. Besides, the cure was her idea; I was merely the facilitator."

"You are too kind, my lord," Rylee said, trying to hide her happiness at the compliment.

The assassin held back a sigh. Rylee was developing a crush on her. Most unfortunate.

"We are honored to serve you, my lord," the human told her. He bowed and departed.

"Isn't this great?" Destris said. "Cure one lousy disease and already you got Paladius scared and people lining up with presents."

"No time for celebrating, Destris," Rylee said. "We have bodies to clean up, and Paladius isn't resting."

"Right," Destris said. "The bodies."

Once the droids disposed of the mercenaries, Rylee continued. "Paladius has called a big meeting at Meridian Hall. If we don't act, he'll rally his cult and stop our whole operation dead."

"Then we undermine the rally," the assassin said.

"With all respect," Rylee said. "These are Paladius's most faithful we're talking about. We need to show that you have more power in your little finger than Paladius has in his... wait! I've got it! It's a crazy idea, but what if you showed that you could move the city itself- make a groundquake?"

"What've you been putting in your soup, Rylee?" Destris said. "Nobody can just make this moon shake!"

"Stick with me here," she replied. "You know the gas pipes that run under Meridian Hall?"

"No," the assassin said. "Clever, but it would fail."

"Let me finish," Rylee said.

"I'm a Sith Lord," the assassin told her. "They would suspect a Force trick. Paladius would certainly attribute it to that. And his followers might be zealots, but that doesn't make them fools. One or more might recognize a gas detonation. Even if they did believe it, they would expect groundquakes on command, something I cannot do. When they realized that, they would rush back to Paladius, their loyalty doubled. I'm sorry. Your idea is clever but self-defeating."

"Oh," Rylee said, her enthusiasm flattened. "What... what do we do?"

"The two of you could not be the only followers to question Paladius' intent," the assassin said. "Nor the only followers to seek a peaceful life. Curing the Rot has given them a reason to listen. I must convince them that following you is more beneficial, or that following Paladius means self-sacrifice. I'm sure some of them suspect that already."

Destris said, "These are his most loyal followers."

"I'm sure they are," the assassin replied. "But I'm not trying to turn the entire cult. I need one follower who can tell me where Paladius is. The rest can maintain their supplication."

"I thought you were going to save them!" Rylee protested.

"You are going to save them, Rylee," the assassin told her. "When Paladius is gone, you will step in to fill the void."

"They won't listen to me," she said.

"Of course they will," the assassin said. "You are one of them. I am an outsider and another Sith Lord. They'll have had enough of both."

"You're a much better choice," Rylee said.

The Twi'lek sighed. "I'm a Sith assassin. What am I going to do with a cult? On Nar Shaddaa? You can turn them into a charitable gang. They will trust you, and they will follow you."

"If you say so," Rylee replied. The assassin patted her on the arm and left for the meeting.


"There is only one law," the holo of Paladius declared. "For the weak as well as the strong, and that is power! For too long, the weak of Nar Shaddaa have grown soft in the luxury of their towers, while the strong have wallowed in chains. But I tell you-united, there is no law that can stop you. Take back what is yours!"

The followers shouted their approval.

"Eighteen rebellions have risen up this year!" the assassin called out, entering the hall. "Fourteen ended with the Hutts slaughtering them to the last man, woman, and child. Two fled to regroup. And two achieved small gains for their leaders and nothing for their followers."

"There are those who would tell you lies," Paladius countered. "Who spread rumors and false promises!"

"I have spread no rumors and made no promises," the assassin said. "Instead, I have watched news reports and cured the Rot."

"You must shun this false messenger," Paladius said. "The weak fear your growing strength and have sent her to break it."

"The Hutts don't give a shit about you," the assassin said. "And I was sent by a Sith Lord who doesn't give a shit about you either."

"There, my followers! The Sith fear me!"

"No!" the assassin said. "Zash just wants her necklace back!"

"What do you want?" a follower asked.

Got one. "At first, to complete the task given to me by my master. Then, he sent Gar-Nok to kill me. Now I'm annoyed."

"Lies!" Paladius said. "Who drove the gangs out of the lower districts? Who gave you homes and protected you? You are a mighty blade, my children. But one that needs a great warrior to wield. I am that warrior. Together we lay waste to our enemies!"

"You're just a weapon to him," the assassin said. "An object to be used and discarded."

"You're a deceiver!" a different follower said.

"Get out of here!" said a third. "We serve Paladius!"

"Wait," a fourth said. "Maybe there's something to her. She cured the Rot, didn't she?"

Got another. "Hutts can't give in to violence. They would appear weak to the Sith and the Mandalorians. They respect contracts and negotiation. Peaceful resistance has always produced more lasting gains. Look it up."

"I thought you were a Sith Lord," a follower said.

That's three. "Some days you need a lightsaber, some days you need a pen."

"Some days you need power and wrath!" Paladius shouted. "Destroy her!"

Well, fuck. She hit the holotable with lightning to shut it off and told Khem not to kill anyone. The battle was quick and brutal but not lethal. Most of the combatants would need a hospital, but all would survive.

"My- my lord," one of the less wounded said. "What happened? How did you-?"

"We never met anybody who could do what you did," another said. "Not Lord Paladius, not anybody."

"Paladius was holding back," the assassin told him. "He wanted you to feel confident so you would attack his enemies with more enthusiasm."

"He really does see us as expendable, doesn't he?" said the follower who had defended the assassin. She was part of a small group that had not attacked. "What do we do now?"

"Get them medical attention," the assassin told her. "Then go to Strell House and talk to Rylee Dray. She's building a better group."

"The Strell House," the follower said. "A good place, that. Daegin Strell was a good man."

"But before you send us away," another follower said. "Share your wisdom and strength with us, so we can serve you."

"For fuck sake," the assassin said. "I didn't pull you from one cult to shove you into another. You don't need a cult. You need hard work. Rylee and Destris will provide you with plenty. The only service I need is Paladius' location. Raise a hand if you know it." A wounded follower called out to her. "Excellent. You're already doing better."


"My lord, will you look at this place?" Destris said, watching crowds of converts fill the hall. "Daegin Strell himself couldn't generate this kind of crowd- and neither can Paladius anymore, from the looks of it."

"Attend to the wounded," the assassin told him.

"Yes, my lord," he said. "Sorry."

The assassin told Rylee, "This is why you're in charge."

"My lord!" a convert called out, running toward her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. They said they'd kill me. They said they'd kill me if I didn't."

"Didn't what?" she asked.

"Paladius's men. They said they'd kill me if I didn't bring you this." He held out a holoemitter.

"No one move!" the assassin yelled. Silence fell across the room. She sensed nothing from the emitter, and her precognition hadn't triggered, but best to be safe. "Can anyone here scan for explosives?"

A man with a lightsaber wound on his leg limped over. "Here, my lord." He removed tools from his pocket and scanned the emitter. After a moment, he said, "No explosives. Just an emitter."

"Very good," the assassin said. "Sorry about that," she added, nodding at the wound.

"It's made me a better person, my lord."

The assassin smiled. "You'll do well here." She took the emitter and activated it. Paladius appeared.

"Good evening, Sith," Paladius said. "You know, I never learned your name."

"I know," she replied.

"I'm sorry to use such an unconventional method to contact you, but I had to be sure you got the message. You understand."

"No," she said. "You wanted to show me you were still a threat."

"As I said, you got the message." He smiled at her. "When you first attacked my cult, I took it very personally. Then you mentioned Zash and the necklace. All this trouble is just about some silly artifact. Well, you can have it. Just leave Nar Shaddaa to me. We can meet at my place. We'll chat, I'll give you the artifact, and all will be mended."

"Really?" the assassin said, smiling in return. "That doesn't sound the least bit like a trap."

Paladius said, "I promise- no tricks, or may I die creditless on Tatooine scrubbing a Jedi's back. Take time to consider my offer. But not too long, or my good mood may sour. And bring your friends. Paladius out."

"Lying son of a Hutt!" Destris said. "You're not seriously considering it, are you?"

"Do not listen to the little coward," Khem said. "We will devour this Sith, my master."

She ignited her saber and cut the emitter in two. "Withhold your comments until I've destroyed the bug." She tossed the pieces of the emitter into an incinerator. "Obviously it's a trap, but I need that artifact. We must simply prepare. He asked for the four of us, and he will get the four of us. Armor up, and get your weapons. I need something from my ship. It won't take long."

"Can we help," a convert asked.

"How? By bleeding on him?" the assassin replied. "You'll stay here and help the wounded. Rylee, Destris, be ready by the time I get back."

She returned to her ship and went to the medical bay. When Paladius said "no tricks" she had wanted a stim, but didn't know which type. She grabbed one of each type and left for the safehouse.


The guards had orders to let them in, take them to Paladius chamber, and depart. Waiting for a signal? Possibly. She'd taken followers from Paladius at the meeting. He might need to justify the faith of those that remained. He might want to beat her himself. No. He was too cautious for that. He never sent her his location, never mentioned it. He must suspect she knew it. He wanted to face her on his terms. He must have something prepared. Her vision guided her to stims. That suggested a toxin. He might suspect she was precognitive, if he was familiar with Zash. In his mind, it wouldn't matter. She couldn't be prepared for what he was going to use. Or, the likelihood was very low, and he had a counter for her stim. Whatever his attack, a flaw must exist. She must discover it and adapt to it before he could kill her.

"Sith! Destron! Rachel!" Paladius said. "I'm so glad you've come. You have made a wonderful decision."

He's stalling. It's already in the air. He's giving it time to take effect. She didn't feel anything yet, but she didn't have the time to wait.

"Can I offer you anything?" Paladius asked. "A drink-?"

She threw lightning at him and drew her saber. Paladius blocked the lightning, and his Weequay bodyguards moved to attack.

"Not even formalities?" Paladius said. "Zash would be disappointed."

She deflected blaster fire from the bodyguards, but found her aim drifting. Khem could hold back one of the guards, and Rylee and Destris could distract Paladius, but they would lose without the assassin.

"That hollow, sinking feeling?" Paladius said, deflecting blaster fire. "Your connection to the Force is being severed. Soon you will be no more powerful than little Denton here."

No, the assassin thought. That's not possible.

"There are secrets known to the Sith that you have only dreamt of," Paladius said. "This is one, and your artifact is another."

That sounded like a lie. The Sith would use a technique like that more often. But, technique or toxin, either could be countered or lessened with the right stim. He hadn't used Ixetal. She knew how that felt. Her awareness of the Force was fading, but it must have secondary effects. What else did she feel? Not dizzy or lightheaded. It didn't seem to affect Khem, Destris, or Rylee. What else? She was holding off a bodyguard by skill alone now. Destris and the guards were unaffected. He must have a counteragent. Khem fought as he always did, Destris was aggressive, Rylee shook her hand and continued firing. Shook her hand? What did that mean? Her hands? Her fingers? The assassin's fingers were numb. The toxin blocked the neural receptors responsible for sensing the Force. He'd blinded her to it. Tactile insensitivity was a secondary effect. She thought, Lord Zash, you glorious slut! She'd added some stims to the medical bay that temporarily imparted hypersensitivity. A gift, she's said, for the next time the assassin indulged herself. "You'll be able to count his taste buds."

"Khem!" the assassin yelled. "I need a moment!"

Khem knocked back his opponent and swung at the Weequay attacking her. He had to return to the first guard immediately, but he gave her enough time to stab Zash's stim into her leg. In a moment, her every sense screamed at her. The light was painfully bright, the room was too loud, she could hear her own heartbeat, she could feel every seam and wrinkle in her clothes, smell her own sweat, and, behind it all, she could feel the Force. Weak, like sensing it through gauze, but enough to fight. She could deflect again, but couldn't aim. She could sense her opponent's attacks. She was at most two moves ahead, but that was enough to block, enough to step aside, and enough to kill. She and Khem defeated the guards, then all four of them beat back Paladius.

"Forgive me, my lord," Paladius said. His saber was gone, cut in half, and he was on one knee. "Take the artifact." He held it out. "Just let me live and carry on the cult- ahh!"

She stabbed him through the heart.

Khem said, "Well done, little master."

"So glad you approve. Destris, Rylee, you have people under your care."

"We live to serve!" Destris said, and the assassin winced at the volume of his voice.

"Inside voice," she said.

"We're here to serve," Rylee said softly.

"They're yours," the assassin replied. Rylee shook her head. "You contacted Zash, you brought people together, you planned most of it. They're yours. Treat them well."

Rylee took a deep breath, let it out, then rushed forward and kissed the assassin. "They might be mine, but I'm yours."

"And, I am Zash's, for now. Khem, we must go."

"What about the guards out there?" Destris asked.

"We've beaten Paladius," the assassin replied. "That's enough for them. Some will leave. Some will follow. Those that fight will be beaten down by the others. But, we will be safe."


"I have the artifact, master," the assassin told Darth Zash, once she was back aboard her ship.

"And killed Paladius," Zash replied. "Most impressive. Did you find out what he used?"

"Certain types of chemical treatments are known to cause peripheral neuropathy," the assassin told her. "Someone must have discovered the side effect in a Force Sensitive undergoing chemotherapy."

"What a strange path science takes," Zash said. "Does the counteragent have any value?"

"Such drugs, on their own, can often cause sensory integration dysfunction," the assassin said.

"Most unfortunate," Zash said. "The next artifact is on Tatooine. I'll contact you when I have more. Until then, enjoy Nar Shaddaa. That stim is much better for recreation. Zash out."

Not tonight, the assassin thought. She needed sleep.


"Flesh of my flesh," Lord Kallig said. "Listen to me."

The assassin struggled awake and turned toward the apparition.

"I cannot linger long," he told her. "It takes too much out of me to appear here. But I must warn you. Your master, Darth Zash, is plotting something."

No shit.

"Whatever it is can mean nothing good for you," Kallig continued. "I have seen Zash making her preparations. She's taken two new apprentices, a boy named Kaal and a girl named Corrin. She's been sending them into the Dark Temple- presumably to confirm that I am gone."

"No," she said. "She has a job for them."

"I was confident, too, before my own death," he said. "You are Sith. You must suspect everything."

"I do," she said. "I meant they're not there for you."

"I considered killing these intruders," he said. "But I heard them speak of Zash and her desire that the chamber be secure for her work."

Just ignoring that, I see.

"Soon enough, Zash herself appeared. She comes every day now, studying the place and performing rituals. You are in danger."

Spurious logic, but not necessarily a false conclusion. "What kind of rituals?"

"Minor ones," he said. "Preparations for something bigger. Zash knows your weaknesses. You must prepare yourself. An enterprising Sith Lord on Korriban named Khreusis has uncovered a piece of my old armor, my mask."

Zash can't know my weaknesses to a ritual she's never used, however that doesn't mean the mask is not valuable.

"It will protect you against Zash's onslaught," Kallig said. "The Sith Lord's compound overlooks the tombs. Go. Claim it. Guard yourself against Zash's attack."

He did have one of the artifacts in his tomb. He was the closest thing she had to an expert. "I will go immediately."

"I cannot guarantee when I will be able to speak with you again. As I said, it is difficult for me to visit you. But I will continue to watch over my chamber in the temple, conserving my energy for when I learn something more. Now, go. Prove yourself worthy of the name 'Kallig'."

The apparition faded.

"Khem," the assassin said. "We must go to Korriban."

"Yes, little Sith," he said. "I hope they understand what 'not lingering long' means."


Khem and the assassin crept through the lower levels of Khreusis stronghold. Reaching the stronghold had been easy, as had the upper levels. The lower levels were far more challenging. Her slicing skills had improved since Grathan's estate, but she wasn't sure if they'd improved enough. After far too much time hiding and creeping, they reached Khreusis' vault. Dozens of artifacts were scattered around the room in various stages of analysis. Documentation on each was careful and thorough. Khreusis was a brilliant archeologist. That was never in question. She finally found a group of seventeen masks on a table and searched them for Kallig's, but the mask wasn't there.

"Little master," Khem said, but she continued searching.

"I thought the Sith were above petty burglary," a voice called out. "I wonder what your master would think if she knew you were breaking and entering." The assassin turned toward Lord Khreusis. "Or did she by chance send you on this little errand?"

"This is my own doing," the assassin replied.

"So I thought," Khreusis said. "Your master and I hardly see eye to eye, but this isn't her style. It has all the marks of an apprentice. When Darth Thanaton learns of this, you will be punished."

The assassin said, "What if I told you that Zash intends to betray me, that I need Kallig's mask to defeat her, and that I heard all of this from Kallig himself?"

"Talkative for a dead man," Khreusis said.

"You have no idea," the assassin replied.

"Why you?" Khreusis asked. "What makes you special?"

"He believes I am his ancestor."

Khreusis was probably smiling within his helmet. "Do you believe it?"

"The apparition isn't Twi'lek," the assassin said. "He should have dissipated by now. I believe he had to make sacrifices to maintain himself."

"Interesting," Khreusis said. "How does he appear to you? Is he wearing the mask?"

"He is."

Khreusis waved his arm at the artifacts. "Prove it, and the mask is yours. I will give you twenty minutes. Find the mask, and bring it to me."

The assassin smiled. "You're wearing it."

Khreusis sighed and pulled off the mask. "So you're not all talk after all. Darth Zash should be very proud, and very afraid." He held out the mask. "It's just an old trinket, but, if you really think it'll help you defeat her, take it. May Darth Zash tremble in your presence."

Khem and the assassin left quickly. A Sith's good graces rarely last. They reached their ship and took off, setting course for Tatooine.

The assassin set the mask on her desk and activated three holorecorders. "Kallig mask, initial impressions," she said. "Khreusis appears to have removed most of the dirt. The mask appears intact. Nothing replaced or modified. Separating the helmet from the faceplate. Narrow recesses within the helmet suggest Zabrak horns, personalized to the wearer. Khreusis himself is human, so no modification was required. Circuitry on the interior of the helmet is not representative of Sith technology in Kallig's time. Further analysis is required. The same circuitry is found on the faceplate as well as-" She stopped. The faceplate had connection points for the gold inset, but lack of wear suggested they were never used.

Well, she thought. Isn't that interesting?