Plo Koon and Quinlan Vos found themselves in a position that was weirdly tense. Upon arriving on Corulag and the Sienar Advanced Research Division, which led them towards a spire overlooking an assembly shipyard for various warships, they found themselves waiting outside the office of Raith Sienar who was evasive as ever. The scenario was bizarre to Vos, almost as bizarre as the strange request from Chancellor Palpatine not to travel to this core world.

"Surely any Separatist plot must be pursued in the Outer Rim. The core worlds are bastions of peace and security. I'm afraid that there is little to nothing to find on Corulag. Sienar's loyalty to the Republic is not to be diminished under any circumstances."

Vos was bothered by that decree of guaranteed innocence for Siener, and he couldn't help but feel as if this investigation was putting them against Republic's finest champions. It appeared as if the trail of clues that was being analyzed was shifting beneath their feet as they passed and winding away from the trajectory that a chart was demanding. While this occurred, it's as if the path was multiplying with each end seeking to find a dead end from which to mock the foolish adventurers who dared traverse it. An investigation that led to the farthest expanses of the Outer rim territories was looping right back to the core worlds. They were either making invaluable progress or were winding far off course.

At this point he was almost afraid of what he was going to find.

Nobody was infallible to corruption and if the Jedi had to be afraid of overstepping their bounds and being led astray, of risking endeavors into roles they were not meant to be, then that had to extend to everyone else. K'sar was standing next to Vos and he too looked uneasy to be waiting idly for an audience with one of the most influential leaders in the Republic's navy.

"Why can't we just say we're here on Jedi business?" Vos asked finally. "That's always worked."

"If it were that simple don't you think he would have let us in?" Plo Koon inquired. "The aide assured us that she would request an audience for our part."

Leaning his head back, Vos sighed as he stared into the vacant lobby he was in. Fixating his gaze to the viewport opposite Sienar's office he rose to his feet and looked at the landscape surrounding the spire. Vos saw a sight that was becoming more common as of late; the construction of warships for the Republic navy. Massive cargo loaders were lifting sheets of armored hull onto a reinforced frame of what would someday become an Acclamator-class assault ship. Turbolaser batteries and point defense cannons were being installed on the sides, reinforcing its role as a combat vessel as opposed a merchant ship or bulk carrier. The ability to build warships in great abundance, a necessary step to ensuring the Republic's survival, had become an established feature of Republic society. Vos almost admired the speed at which the Republic transitioned from a peaceful society that didn't enforce its will onto neighboring systems through force into a militant juggernaut that was worthy to defeat the Separatist alliance.

The question was now, could the Republic ever go back to the way it was? And should it?

"Our way of life has changed" Plo Koon spoke, reading his thoughts as he joined the Kiffar at his side. Vos wished he could see behind Plo Koon's mask, even for a moment, just to see if he felt any emotion at all as he gazed ahead. The only clue Vos could read was the rigid posture in his body as he stood straight as a ceremonial statue. "Master Windu denied it years ago, but at this stage we cannot prevent the inevitable. The Jedi have become warriors for the Republic, that much is certain. Soldiers."

"I just wish this war could be won" Vos said aloud. "Then we could at least try to go back to our roles as peacekeepers."

"Oh?" Plo Koon asked, looking onto Vos with interest. "And when can we say for certain that the war is over? When our enemies surrender? When every battle droid is dismantled? When every clone is reassigned to a civilian occupation? When the Sith are destroyed?"

Lost for words, Vos could only turn away. "But then what can wish to achieve? Why fight at all?"

Staring back to the Accalamator under construction, Vos almost felt embarrassed to ask such a difficult question. Perhaps it signified how unprepared he was to return to the Jedi order, or perhaps it merely reflected an uneasiness about not knowing what the future held for either of them.

"Hopefully, so that the next generation of Jedi can replicate our victories and learn from our failures" Plo Koon answered.

Feeling a bit of confidence on thoughts that forced their way into his subconscious, Vos turned to look towards Plo Koon. "You probably could have recommended for my dismissal at this point. You don't have to lie, I'm not surprised. I've made mistakes and done terrible things. Even now, I've been wrestling with dark thoughts...and memories. As if my past is haunting me. I just have to ask, why haven't you? Why do you keep giving me chances to return to the Order?"

Plo Koon didn't reply immediately, instead bringing his hand to his breathing mask that fed the necessary gases needed to survive. Vos feared at first that he was trying to euphonize his response and ensure that he didn't come off as condemning.

Seeing the door to Sienar's office open, Vos turned his face to see the assistant from earlier. Before he could do anything, Plo Koon was on his feet to inquire if they are free to enter, with K'sar not far behind.

"Sienar doesn't want to see anybody, today" the aide said without excitement. "You can try to see him a week from now."

"We don't have time to spare" Plo Koon replied. "We'll be very brief."

"Hey, what he says goes." the aide replied unimpressed. "No arguments."

Vos was storming towards the aide, not in the mood for the laziness in his responses, unaware of the dark thoughts creeping into his mind when Plo Koon waved his hands behind his back.

"You will let us inside" Plo Koon remarked coolly.

"I will let you inside" the aide answered, his head in a daze.

"You feel sick and need to rest" Plo Koon added.

"I feel sick and need to rest" the aide answered just as Vos reached the side of the Kel Dor and Bith.

"Your boss doesn't pay you well anyway" Vos suggested.

"My boss doesn't pay me well anyway" the aide answered with a growl and stormed off towards the turbolift. As soon as the door screeched shut, the two Jedi found the door to be locked from the outside. Seeing a holoscreen near the door's controls, Plo Koon began a transmission to whoever was inside. There was no response for several seconds before an aged man with grey hair and padded robes answered the invite.

"I thought I made it clear that I wasn't going to be entertaining guests this evening?" the man spoke dryly.

"This concerns one of your starships" Plo Koon answered briskly. "An experimental craft that was not officially endorsed?"

"You'll have to be more specific?" Sienar sneered. "We have many prototypes in our possession. Many that were mass produced to fight for your war in fact."

"The ship in question is believed to have carried a specialized mechno-chair delivered from Escarte" Plo Koon persisted, ignoring the subtle insult behind Sienar's accusation. "This chair was likely discovered nearly 13 years ago during the Naboo crisis where-"

The transmission ended abruptly. Vos snarled and was about to reach for his lightsaber when the door opened. Glancing at the Kel Dor with anticipation, they made their way inside. Awaiting their gaze could have been mistaken for a historical naval museum as the entire room was decorated with pronounced models of various starships, all terrain vehicles, repulsor craft and military vessels. Sheathed in glass holding cases, holopanels dictated the history of specific vessels, indicating time period, history, schematic and general facts about the vessel in question. On the ceiling, a mural depicted Accalamator-class cruisers being loaded on the planet Coruscant with clone battalions and multiple vehicles, including AT-TE walkers and TX-130 fighter tanks. Outside was an outdoor conservatory that overlooked the cityscape and construction facilities surrounding it. Seated at his desk, the gentlemen from earlier was glancing at the two Jedi and K'sar with heightened interest. Standing to greet his unexpected guests, Raith Sienar's tone suggested that he was not looking to exchange greetings and formalities.

"If you Jedi would allow, I would like to inquire precisely what brings you to me" Sienar began. "I'm not accustomed to having visitors barge into my office asking questions for their personal pleasure. At least, not without good reason."

"We don't wish to take up much of your time." Plo Koon agreed with understanding, choosing his words carefully. "We are conducting an investigation into the history of a product confiscated from the Trade Federation."

"And you believe that this is linked to me, because?" Sienar inquired with raised eyebrows.

"Put simply, we have reason to believe that an identical device was delivered to you, and one of your starships."

Staring at Plo Koon's blank face, Sienar turned to Vos. K'sar was ignored from the conversation entirely. "Do you know what is accomplished through the customization of starships?" Seeing that there was not an interjectory reply, Sienar continued. "It means designing ships, put simply, under exact criteria put forward by the buyer who wants a specific ship, with precise functions, for a general purpose carried out over that ship's lifespan. Customized starships are a staple of our engineering models that cause us to stand out from the designers at Kuat, who are only interested in making the biggest ships in the universe without regard for the artistic experience of the engineer. It's a series of vanity projects for them, building ship after ship that performs nearly identically to its counterparts. But not for us; we make ships built with the goal of renovating designs time and time again, creating vessels that are tailor made for specific roles that can be accomplished as a part of a fleet made up of supportive complimentary spacecraft. It is a staple of Sienar engineering, of which I am very proud."

"Hate to interrupt your speech, but we just want to know if you have anything you can provide us" Vos interrupted, not overly impressed with Sienar's love for engineering and ship building.

Unfazed by the interruption, Sienar continued. "During the Clone Wars, it has fallen on us to design many of the vessels you use to oppose the Confederacy of Independent systems. However, each fleet and armored division is slightly different, whether it be in the amount and diversity of starfighters carried, the minute strength differences of the ship's armaments' or shielding systems, the age of the starships themselves or even the tiniest of scratches in the hulls and plating. And yet, when the battle goes well, each fleet performs its job to the efficiency of the crew manning each ship. Because each ship is equipped to perform the role they were designed for."

Waiting for Sienar to finish with a disapproving gaze, Vos watched as Sienar recognized the silence and grinned. "The point I am stressing is that customized ships are something that is nearly synonymous with our engineering, even when mass produced. You've come to the right place, but I need more than the inconsequential details you have provided."

Plo Koon reached to his side as he retrieved a portable holodisplay of the mechno-chair in question. Upon igniting the display, Sienar looked at the projection without emotion; if there was any turmoil or recognition upon seeing the device in question, it wasn't obvious.

"I can't say I recall seeing this device. At the very least, not something I created. Too delicate. Too fragile."

"But you had to have seen it!" K'sar interrupted. Vos tried to keep him seated but the Bith rose to his feet, no longer content to remain silent and unrecognized. "My partner was contracted by you to deliver a spacecraft carrying this chair. My friends died because of all this! I'm not letting you hide your tracks!"

Taken back by the raised voice of the Bith, Sienar narrowed his eyes into a glare. "Are you quite done? I'm not one for theatrics or appeals to pity. In any case, I have had too many contracts over the decades to recall every order on a whim."

"But you must have catalogued it?" Plo Koon insisted. "Unless you are going to suggest that you haven't been upholding your records."

"No" Sienar said with reluctance. "It's possible that records exist. Any contracted pilots-" he glanced briefly at K'sar before switching back to the Jedi "could have flown any one of our specially designed freighters. Even if it was one of our ships that wouldn't narrow it down. We'd have to know when it was built. "

Vos rose his own voice to continue the flow of questioning, not willing to give Sienar a chance to form any corporate response. "Are you going to make this as difficult as possible for us? If you would just turn over your assets we would be on our way out of-"

Plo Koon raised a hand suddenly and Vos' voice fell silent. Turning to K'sar he asked, "This ship in question, when was it supposedly delivered to Seiner?"

"A bit more than thirteen years ago" K'sar answered with slight frustration. "That's when Fa'ale Leh retrieved the chair from us and flew here."

"I have a suspicion as to what ship it may be" Plo Koon continued. Though Vos couldn't see it, he recognized how the Jedi Master had entered a brief state of meditation from the way the Kel Dor was folding his hands onto themselves. "During the Stark Hyperspace war, I saw devices similar to the one we discovered. During that conflict, we were fighting alongside the Trade Federation which served as our ally."

"But that was much longer than thirteen years ago?" Vos asked. "How can there be any connection?"

"Thirteen years ago, the very same Trade Federation invaded Naboo." The Kel Dor pulled his fingers away and for a split second it looked as if a spark had formed where his fingers were crossed. "And among their assets was an unknown starship."

"This isn't the first time that attempts were made to link my industry to the Trade Federation" Sienar spoke up with irritancy. "Tread carefully, Jedi."

"That starship was lost soon after. According to a report from the Jedi council, the ship suffered a minor self destruct sequence and the onboard data systems had any files erased. It was left to the Naboo security force to discard the remains."

Trying his best to follow Plo Koon's train of thought, Vos could only shake his head with confusion and befuddlement.

"I believe that the starship that was discovered, is the very same ship that was delivered here, thirteen years ago. More importantly, I believe that it was recovered."

Sienar stared into his present company of guests and scowled before he himself lowered his head in thought. Vos looked side to side to K'sar and Plo Koon and couldn't help but feel an unbearable sense of apprehension. Sienar seemed to be piecing together everything that was spoken as he stared at the left side of his desk. Punching a command into a control box that no doubt computes a series of particular functions including heating, cooling and lights, a large datapad emerged as two panels folded onto the metallic chrome in synchronized harmony. Taking it for himself, he began to scroll through entries of spaceward prototypes and confidential work orders. His eyes narrowed and he grasped the datapad with a firm grasp. turned the datapad over to the Jedi as it was transfixed on an entry of one particular spaceship.

"I keep a manifest of all my projects and record everything of note as to the engineers and technology being applied to the craft in question" Sienar spoke in a much lower tone. "While I tend to focus on present models as opposed to those of older generations, some are too noteworthy to forget. Normally, the confidentiality of the client prevents me from sharing this information with you to ensure that no disclosure agreements are ruptured."

"This concerns the security of the Galactic Republic and a possible plot to overthrow its foundation, whether it be internal or external" Plo Koon answered. "This has to be done."

"You do remember the vessel, don't you?" Vos added, watching as Sienar's gaze shifted between all three parties present.

"I need the authorization of the Republic security bureau, or perhaps the Chancellor's office to turn over this-"

"What about the Jedi council!" Vos demanded with a near hiss. "Isn't that enough authority?"

"Vos" Plo Koon warned. "Stand down."

Turning to Sienar the Kel dor continued. "This information is critically important, and we would prefer if we could undergo this investigation without it going public. The Jedi council has the right to perform such investigations, even before the Clone Wars, as long as a high council member is present. The terms are met for us to proceed."

Sienar looked at the datapad and finally relented it to the Jedi, but not before entering a few commands at the controls. The Kel Dor, Kifflar and Bith put their attention onto a sleek craft with a round tipped triangular hull, two glowing streaks running along the dorsal surface, linked to a spherical cockpit with two curved sets of radiator fins. As the Jedi stared at the display, they knew beyond any doubt that this had to be the ship in question.

"It was called the Scimitar, a prototype vessel that carried experimental cloaking technology. When I first heard of the request I almost thought it was a hoax, until the schematics arrived detailing how it would be assembled."

"You didn't build it yourself?" Vos questioned.

With an accusatory brow, Sienar replied "Of course we built it ourselves! The contact was anonymous but they guaranteed that the supplied blueprints could be transformed into a functional vehicle. I ordered a sizable advanced service charge of 50 million credits when the contact refused to meet me. I expected the supplier to cave in, but instead I learned that the funds were supplied to my personal accounts. 50 million within a matter of days. I stopped questioning at that point and got to work on finishing the Scimitar, beginning the construction at an off-site shipyard on Yerbana. Once completed, the ship was delivered and it fell out of my hands."

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Plo Koon leaned forward to gauge Sienar's expression as Vos tried to process everything that happened. Before he could voice his thoughts the masked Jedi master spoke first.

"Where is it now?" Plo Koon pressed. "We both know it's not on Naboo."

Sienar leaned forward, his face clenching. It seemed that Sienar's story only went so far and that it couldn't explain various details that weren't accounted for. "Whatever I tell you, this conversation never happened."

Vos almost scoffed before Plo Koon replied "The more you tell us, the less you have to fear."

With a dry laugh, Sienar shook his head. "Oh, we both know it's quite the opposite master Jedi. All right, I'll tell you. The Scimitar was claimed in private to be a product of the Trade Federation in the years after Naboo's crisis came to an end and that it was wrong for the Naboo officials to hold onto it, Considering that it was destroyed by a botched investigation, it seemed the officials no longer saw a need to retain it. I had some of my corporate liaisons, who were able to eavesdrop on those Neimoidian cowards whenever they tried to retain their trade secrets, monitor the operation discreetly in case the affair blew up in our face. Not that it ever did, mind you. During this exchange the mysterious client sent another anonymous message claiming that the ship was being transported to a private hanger on Cato Neimoidia and that it was not to be investigated further.

"So you have always known what happened to it?" Vos declared. "And you just decided not to tell anyone to hide your slimy operations from the public."

"What would you have me do? Publicly humiliate myself for admitting that I fulfilled the wishes of a client who didn't want to reveal why they wanted the ship in question? I fail to see how any of this is my problem. Furthermore, I don't see anything illegal about this. If anything, it seems to be your problem to discover why this ship was deemed so important that it brought you here. Before you go about trying to build some case against me think of all the things I contributed to your war. "

Standing to rise, Sienar leaned out to watch the shipyard undergo its daily industrial operations. "If you want to keep scrutinizing my actions go to Yerbana where the damn thing was built. If not, you can go ask the Neimoidians at their home planet. Last I heard, you just seized it from them."

Vos was furious, not even at the fact that he felt cheated by this executives mocking tone and verbal grandiosity. The entire investigation was leading them right back to where it all began in the first place!

He started to fear if it was a closed loop that led to nowhere. Plo Koon rose gently, seemingly unfazed by Sienar's behavior and not revealing if he himself was dreading the likelihood that they were following a dead trail. "Thank you for your time. The Republic thanks you for your time."

"Either way, if this does go public for whatever reason don't expect me to come to your rescue. As it seems to me you let all of this happen. It should be your responsibility to clean it up. After all, I'm just a ship builder."

"Let's just hope that your client thinks the same" Vos replied, turning to follow Plo Koon's exit. Reaching his side with K'sar trailing just behind, the Kel Dor turned once more.

"Out of curiosity. That cruiser in the shipyard? Does it have a name?"

Sienar met his gaze and a faint smile reached his lips. Apparently, now that he knew the Jedi had seemingly learned what they wanted to discover, his own mood eased considerably. "As a matter of fact, it does. The Judicator."

The dream was alive.

The sleeper wrestled with the images that surfaced; visuals that would make any other man cry out in horror and beg for deliverance. Magnificent beasts, ones that could either terrorize the soul or strengthen the spirit of the dreamer, all at battle with one another. They called upon the elements in their great battle, summoning frigid gales, purifying waters, stone from primordial eons and even the fires of damnation.

He should have recognized them. Whenever the names tried to surface it was as if they began to sink back towards the depths of unconsciousness. He tried to speak; tried to scream. But his voice was trapped in a vacuum. Turning skyward, he watched as the battle intensified. The creatures, whether majestic beasts or ungodly abominations, were at war, dancing around a thick shadow that grew with every strike, every exchanged blow.

He was on the spire of a great mountain surrounded by what seemed to be a sea that glowed red. Was he on an ocean? None of this looked familiar as lightning crackled overhead. On all sides were statues wielding ancient weapons that were lost to the ages. He could feel rain blanketing his body, washing over exposed skin and trying to force him to the ground.

Desperately trying to resist, he forced his eyes to stay open as the scene changed. It was nigh impossible to comprehend everything that descended from the heavens, or was it those that ascended from the abyss of hell, that took part in this terrible display of power and might. A violet ram was being chased by a trailing bat whose fangs were dripping with stolen blood. An owl chased a griffin and a fierce amphibious serpent who themselves were pelted on all sides by drones. Flies buzzed dangerously close to their eyes, intent on blinding the monsters, while worms began to dig into their molds, magnifying the size of the monsters. There must have been hundreds, maybe thousands, more creatures above all locked in this hurricane of bloodshed and violence. For once in his life, the sleeper did not want to partake in the battle soaring above, nor did he even wish to gaze at it. He just wanted to run.

But his eyes were locked in a trance, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his mind told him to. Booming calls were met with thunderous explosions of brilliant lightning. Descending with the speed of comets the sleeper feared that the bolts would collapse onto himself, but still he couldn't escape. Even if his legs responded to his commands, he was prisoner to his surroundings. The stone statues had their arms outstretched to halt his escape, weapons drawn, not realizing what fate awaited them. As lightning bolts descended, they exploded into the statues who couldn't react to the storm, forming bursts of vaporized plasma that vanished just as quickly as they appeared. Suddenly free, the sleeper began to run down the mountainside as blood curdling cries screeched above him. Slipping on stone steps that broke under his escape, his body slammed into the rocks, bones breaking from the tumbling slide, flesh tearing at the jagged stones that ripped onto him, his senses going wild with an overdose of stimuli.

This was a nightmare, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. One that refused to end. His body was rife with agony. As he tried to stand, he realized that he was paralyzed, trapped on this forsaken island with hellfire raining down all around him. At the edge of a cliff he saw a gaping hole overflowing with the dead roots of what might have been an elder tree long ago. His body edged towards it as the water carried him off the mountainside. Flashes from the booming storm brought his eyes back to the spire.

One of the creatures, a serpent? No, a dragon, with black wings and crimson eyes was taking flight into the heart of the shadow. The sleeper heard the whispers of the shadow in his mind, of the promises for power that he himself craved. The other monsters could not see it, or perhaps were unwilling to gaze upon the glistening scales and the bloodthirsty eyes. It was only when the dragon unleashed a hellish roar that the creatures recognized what wrath awaited them. Fire deluged from the gaping maw and ignited the war-torn sky. The creatures were swallowed by the flames that spread in all directions, their cries going silent. The air that was once frigid now burned with a heat more intense than the heart of any star. The sea evaporated around the sleeper's body, leaving behind only exposed magma and scorched bedrock. Everything was burning; glowing with heat that spelled the end of all life. The heat finally glazed the sleeper's eyes and he at last screamed at his death.

Maul awoke screaming and shielding his eyes from the horrors the dream, the vision, he was imprisoned to for what felt like an eternity. Gasping for breath he gazed at his surroundings. He was trying to piece together where he was, remembering that he was in his private chambers below Mandalore's subterranean superstructure. He patted himself down, trying to reassure himself that the wounds he received in the dream were gone. His upbringing told him that it wasn't simply a dream. It was a vision revealed to him by the Force, an omen of a climax that awaited the galaxy itself.

Making his way to a viewport that revealed a descending moon, he considered purging the vision from his mind. That would ease the pain, he admitted. Despite how easy it might have been, Maul knew that it wasn't that simple. It could never be that simple.

No, Maul thought softly. Holding a deep inhalation, he shut his eyes. He searched within the vision, his mind focusing on the dragon that was the vessel for the storm that hid the shadow. Through the Force a name was whispered in his mind, one that turned his blood cold.

Skywalker.

Suddenly he understood. He understood everything. Everything the vision contained now seemed perfectly structured. Through the Force he was given a chance to see what was going to happen, what would soon transpire.

More importantly, what would have to be done to stop it all.

Summoning his lightsaber to his side, he turned away from the viewport and moved towards the door to his chambers. He had work to do.