Ashes of Time

by FallenAscendant

The Jedi took his life away, the Sith forced him into another but it was the Empire that gave him purpose. Glailen Reichscher learned that the galaxy is a place of many threats and little mercy. Now he's resolved to become the deadliest of those threats and never be at the mercy of another ever again. But would he live long enough for it to make a difference?

8. Chapter Seven: Politics

Chapter 7: Politics

Whether or not it was Glailen's first choice of places to be that moment, he found himself once more in the Sith Temple. Given the option he would rather be back at his apartment for a solid meal and a decent rest but that was not to be. That being said, he had to admit being in the temple did something to lift the fatigue from his limbs. It was, after all, a beacon of Dark Side energy and the center of the Sith Order. He couldn't deny an interest in being allowed to wander its halls. Last time he was here there hadn't been any time for exploring the massive structure. Of course, there wouldn't be any more time for that this time around either but every moment inside gave him the opportunity to further familiarize himself with the place. At least he knew how to get to his own master's quarters without asking for help this time.

With Vette in tow, Glailen walked among his fellow Sith feeling at once one of them and so far below them. There were a great many full-fledged Sith yet few apprentices. Only a handful were mixed in that Glailen could see. He recognized how they moved as well; it was how he imagined he must look to them. Trying to appear that he belonged where he was while at the same time hoping no one would question it. And if I feel out of place, I can only imagine how Vette must be feeling. Glailen could sense his companion's apprehension with every step but alongside it was solid resolve. She had insisted on coming along and Glailen wasn't about to tell someone they shouldn't be brave. Just as last time though, most Sith paid them no mind and those who did spared only a dismissive glare. They reached the stairs leading down towards the rooms of Darth Baras without any interruption.

A wave of relief very briefly comforted Vette but the apprehension quickly returned. Being in the presence of Darth Baras was not something that gave anyone comfort. As they walked up to the door leading to the dark lord, Glailen glanced down at the security scanner next to it. Curiosity got the best of him. Thinking nothing wrong with it, he pulled out his ID card and tried swiping it through. Immediately the door slid open. Momentarily stunned, Glailen stood at the opening holding his arm out. He hadn't actually expected the move to work. Despite being the man's apprentice, he didn't believe Baras would go to the trouble to give Glailen clearance to his own chambers. It was especially odd that he extended the trust.

But you are his apprentice so of course your information is in the system but don't look too much into it; he probably only granted you access so you wouldn't have to knock every time. He'll revoke it whenever it suits him. Grunting, Glailen returned the card to his pocket. Whatever reason Baras had for granting him access, Glailen knew it was more for his master's benefit than anything else. No need to look foolish standing around thinking about it.

He walked into the room and stopped. A strong smell assaulted him and it wasn't hard to find the source. Across the room stood his master, facing a restraining bed that was tilted forward so that the captive was almost upright. Baras had a hand reaching out to the man strapped to the table while speaking in low tones. The man barely seemed conscious with drooping eyes until his head fell forward. Before the man could settle, he received a sharp back-handed blow that snapped his head to the side. Glailen stared with more interest now. His master was certainly quick when he wanted to be; stepping forward and striking in the blink of an eye.

"You will heed my words, Republic dog," Growled Baras in what to Glailen's mind was a rare show of emotion. If he wasn't mistaken, his master was irritated. Glailen thought he had a good idea why, as well. After a closer look he recognized the man as the person who was in the carbonite when last he was in the office. The Republic agent looking into Baras' spy network. Withholding information from a Sith is not conducive to healthy living, either, thought Glailen mercilessly. For himself, Glailen had no taste for torture and would avoid it if he could but he also understood its necessity. So long as there was someone else to do the dirty work, he wouldn't raise a fuss – especially when the recipient was a Republic operative.

Glailen took a few steps closer as his master, who seemed not to have noticed he had company and raised a hand towards the agent again. This time lightning raced from the finger tips to tear screams from the man's throat. Glailen watched impassively.

"I think I'm going to be sick," whispered Vette in a disgusted tone. It caught Glailen off-guard. He hadn't considered how the fourth person in the room would feel about the scene.

"You don't have to see this, Vette," said Glailen as he leaned closer to her. She gave him a look he wasn't sure how to interpret but he pressed the point.

"If you want to wait outside, you can. I won't be long." With his attention on her, Glailen could now sense how much Vette was bothered by what she was seeing and he genuinely wanted her to step away for her own good. She didn't though, not right away. Hesitating as her eyes shifted from him to the Republic agent convulsing in electrified pain. Finally, she sighed and nodded, turning and walking away. Glailen watched her go until she was out of the room.

"Ah, Apprentice." Whipping around, Glailen found Baras now facing him, staring with that one narrow slit in his face mask. He was back to his usual calm but intimidating demeanour with hands clasped behind his back and a relaxed posture.

"I don't mean to interrupt, master," said Glailen in respectful tones.

"I called you here and you arrived in a timely manner. That pleases me, Apprentice." Glailen inclined his head at the praise, for what it was. He opted not to mention his master's terrible timing. As he straightened, Glailen's eyes drifted to the Republic agent drawing in ragged breaths. Baras noticed the look and gave an amused chuckle.

"Don't mind him, Apprentice. He's proving a challenge, I'll admit, but it's only a matter of time before I learn all that he knows."

"I'll die before I tell you anything!" The captive ground out the words between his teeth. One could hear the effort it took to put up such defiance. Not that it did him any good when Darth Baras turned to face him. He took a step closer and leaned forward until his mask was mere inches from the other man.

"Oh, you will die," he stated evenly, "don't worry about that. But before you do you will reveal everything to me."

Even given his personal disposition towards the Republic, Glailen couldn't help but feel a momentary pang of sympathy for the haggard man. There could be no mistaking his fate – certainly not after it was stated outright – so what then did he have left? If he talked now that just meant he would die sooner but if he held out then the pain would last so much longer. How loyal was he to his cause? With no hope of escape or rescue, his future was bleak. But he is the enemy, thought Glailen, and would do the same to us if given the chance. Baras finally looked away as the man Republic operative began to weep.

"For now, be silent," said the dark lord for good measure.

"Now, as I was saying, I didn't call you here to watch me work, Apprentice. There is a task for you."

"Whatever you need, Master." Glailen turned his full attention to Baras; putting the Republic agent from his mind.

"As it should be." Turning away, Baras walked into the back room with Glailen a couple of steps behind. They entered into an office very similar to the one Glailen had first met his master in on Korriban. As with then, the Darth took a seat behind a wide table. When he was settled, he began to elaborate on the aforementioned mission.

"There is a particularly bothersome Sith Lord by the name of Grathan. A few weeks ago, he openly defied the Dark Council. He has gone rogue from the Order." Shock momentarily broke Glailen's composure.

"A rogue Sith Lord on the doorstep of the capital and he hasn't been dealt with?" Glailen asked, trying to hide his incredulity. By the way his master's mask tilted to the side ever so slightly, he knew he hadn't done well enough.

"Taken an interest, have you? As supremely confident as Grathan is, he is not completely without forethought in his actions," Baras allowed, sounding like he was offering a great concession.

"His compound is a virtual fortress, surrounded by natural barriers and guarded by a small army of mercenaries and traitors to the Empire. In addition, he's garnered the loyalty of dozens of scientists with promises of extravagant funding for their research, so long as they make powerful new weapons for him to use. Grathan has spent decades amassing a fortune and he is sparing no expense to ensure he stands perhaps not as a threat but a concern to the Dark Council."

"A conventional ground assault would be suicidal," said Glailen, connecting the dots laid out for him. At least the Empire isn't wasting troops in unprepared attacks.

"And the Council," there was a brief pause in Baras' speech but Glailen was sure he didn't imagine it, "is hesitant to order an orbital strike without being certain Grathan doesn't have any nasty surprises aimed at Kaas City."

"So, the traitor lives," stated Glailen bluntly, trying to hold back his disgust.

"Yes, and that's just as I'd like it. For now, he is useful to me. However, he needs to be reminded that he is not untouchable." Leaning forward as though confiding in a conspiracy, Baras relayed his plans.

"I've suspected for some time that Grathan would make a move like this which is why a year ago I had one of my apprentices infiltrate his ranks. His one mission was to find a weakness that could be exploited." As he listened to his master, Glailen couldn't help but think he really was being thrown into a conspiracy of sorts. Suddenly Baras got up and walked around the table. Glailen could help but stiffen at the approach – he didn't think he would ever feel comfortable around his master – but Baras all but ignored him as he began walking back to the front room. Obediently, Glailen followed in his wake.

"He finally sent the signal indicating he had succeeded. It was received shortly before I called you here."

"I am to enter the traitor's compound and make it clear his weakness is known, Master?"

"No. I want him angry. Simply informing him that he is vulnerable is not enough. Whatever this weakness is, I want you to strike at it." Glailen found himself nodding slowly as his thoughts turned to the mission ahead. To say it would be dangerous would be a criminal understatement.

"If it is an object, destroy it. If it is a person, kill them. Do what you must to ensure I can feel Grathan's rage from my bed as I drift asleep tonight." That last comment brought Glailen's attention back to his master, gaze sharpening on the other man. Did Baras know what Glailen was up to when he called? No, don't jump to conclusions, Glailen. It's late and even Darth Baras needs to sleep. That's all it was. When Baras turned to face his apprentice, there was nothing on the surface to betray wandering thoughts below. Glailen bowed, acknowledging his master's wishes.

"It will be done, Master."

"Then go. Leave me to my work," said the dark lord with a wave of his hand in dismissal. He didn't waste time and neither did Glailen.

"Now, where were we Republic dog?" A whimper escaped the captive man's lips. Electricity crackled around Baras' hands.

"Never mind – I remember!"

Blood curdling screams followed Glailen out of the room.

---

Waiting in the hall had not appealed to Vette. It was too close to knowing what was going on behind closed doors and she already knew more about what was happening in Creepy Baras' torture chamber than she wanted to. Besides, even if the walls were too thick to allow sound to get through, she still felt like she could hear the man's screaming. Maybe it was just in her head. It probably was, in fact. Even so, it made her…uncomfortable being so close to that room. So, she had gathered her courage and ascended the stairs leading to the main hall of the temple. Once there she did her best not to stand out.

It was different now with Glailen not around. Before the Sith were more interested in him – and not in a good way – and paid her little mind. Yeah, she got a few stares but not nearly as many as him. Why should she though? What was one more obvious slave following a Sith around? Clearly nothing special. Vette hated that sentiment. Hated it but she understood it and, admittedly, was also glad for it. If she had to choose between drawing the attention of dozens of Sith in their spooky temple or being regarded as just part of the furniture, she would put in as much practice standing still as she could. In a way, Glailen had shielded her with his presence. But he wasn't there now.

Looks of complete revulsion caused Vette's skin to crawl. They weren't looking at her like she was a person but rather some kind of mess left of the floor. She was pretty sure the only reason none of the lords of fear and hate had elected to confront her was because they clearly considered such a task beneath them. Vette was okay with that to a degree; avoiding a talk with an angry Sith sounded good to her. Even so, it was only a matter of time before one of the many Sith decided to sick the temple guards on her – or a droid. That would be humiliating, being kicked out by a droid because everyone else refused to go so far in acknowledging her. But of course, she had to remember who she was dealing with. Was it so hard to consider one of the Sith, an apprentice perhaps, would finally take it upon themselves to rid the sacred temple of some Force-blind twi'lek filth? No, it wasn't all that difficult to conceive.

Suddenly waiting downstairs didn't seem like such a bad idea in the long run. As Vette thought she noticed more and more attention being paid to her, she decided listening to some tortured screams wouldn't be the worst thing. Vette turned to the stairway but immediately stopped dead. She gaped at the mountain of greyish muscle looming over her. With a mix of fear and shock, Vette stood frozen in place as a pair of predatory eyes, not diminished by their small size, stared back at her. It took a moment but she realized those eyes looked very Sithy with their red and yellow irises. She didn't recognize the species but those eyes told Vette everything she needed to know; she was in danger.

A quick look around showed Vette she was alone. Most of the passersby continued about their business without noticing what was happening – or caring – but a few had stopped to watch. That's all they were doing. They were just watching. Vette couldn't dwell on that fact for long, she needed to focus and not let a torrent of anger and despair overtake her.

Calling out for help would do no good. There was only one person in the building – maybe the city – who would help her. Vette glanced again towards the stairway that would lead to Glailen. Immediately the beast picked up on the move, however, and sidestepped to block her way. Feeling like cornered prey, Vette began backing away but each step she took was matched by the beast as it drew closer. After fewer than a dozen steps Vette bumped against a computer terminal. She looked back and found that, in her reluctance to take her eyes off the beast, she had trapped herself against a wall. With her options depleting rapidly, Vette's hand went to her blaster though she didn't draw it right away. She swallowed hard. If she pulled a weapon on the beast then there would be no going back. For its own part, the creature didn't appear concerned that she was armed. In fact, it also carried a weapon that Vette was just now noticing. A vibroblade was slung across its back. Vette almost let out a snort at the sight. What did such a beast need with a weapon?

The question was quickly dashed from Vette's thoughts as the creature lifted one of its three-clawed hands towards her. That was it, there was nothing to it but to try and fight back. She watched as that hand came closer. Maybe if she waited until the last moment, she could catch it off guard with some up-close blaster fire.

Or maybe she was about to die.

Motion to the side broke the trance-like state Vette was in. Suddenly Glailen was standing before the beast. With smooth practiced motion he redirected the creature's outstretched arm to press against its own chest before adding a straight-arm push. It seemed impossible for the beast to be moved unless it wished it, yet Glailen found the strength to send it stumbling back a few steps before it could regain its balance. Vette was relieved to see the beast had finally taken its eyes off her. Unfortunately, it now directed such an outraged look at Glailen that she couldn't help feeling the pressure of that hate just by standing close. Glailen didn't wither under that stare though, he positioned himself squarely between Vette and the beast. Vette, driven by a combination of curiosity and fear, had to lean to the side to keep an eye on the creature.

The beast took a step forward. Glailen was not a small man but standing so close to this creature, one would hardly know it. Even so, he didn't back down from the presented challenge. Then, for the first time, the creature made sounds. At first Vette thought they were just a series of growls but then she realized it was an actual language though not one she had ever heard of before. The guttural words grew in volume but stopped abruptly as Glailen brandished his lightsaber hilt. He held it out before him, ready to ignite in an instant. The creature didn't spare it a glance though its posture became noticeably less aggressive.

"I don't know your tongue, beast," Glialen spoke evenly, "but I don't think you need to know mine to understand your options here." A low growl seemed to indicate the beast had at least some idea of what Glailen was saying.

"Leave."

The beast did not leave. Instead, it reached for its vibroblade as it took another step closer. In the back of her mind, Vette again wondered at such a creature needing a weapon for anything, but she had more important things to worry about. Her body tensed for whatever came next.

"Khem, down!"

Blinking, Vette searched for the feminine voice shouting the command. A hooded figure – another Sith, no doubt – suddenly appeared next to the beast. They held out an arm to block it from moving towards Glailen and Vette who seemed to have been forgotten entirely by the beast as it turned its attention to the newcomer. It spoke its unfamiliar language to the figure and, unless Vette missed her mark, sounded equal parts angered and annoyed.

"Act like an animal and I'll treat you like one. Down." There was a long moment where everyone seemed to hold a collective breath but then, amazingly, the beast stepped back and relaxed its stance – relatively. Crossing its arms, it almost looked like a monstrous, sulking child. Vette couldn't keep the wonder from showing on her face. Here was a woman no larger than herself yet she not only commanded this creature – Khem – but even enjoyed its cooperation if only grudgingly. If she wasn't a Sith and one not to be trifled with, Vette would have stitched her lekku together.

Satisfied that Khem wasn't going to cause more trouble, the woman turned and threw back her hood. Glailen made a startled grunt that caught Vette's attention more than the woman revealing her face.

"Silthrai," he said, somehow managing to sound surprised without looking it. Silthrai smirked in response.

"Glailen; what a pleasant surprise. I guess this makes us both Sith – or close to it, I mean."

"Yes," came the simple response.

Looking between the two Sith, Vette couldn't tell what she was caught in the middle of. Despite feeling out of place though, she had no intention of wandering off while Khem was watching her a few feet away. Glailen seemed to remember Vette was there as he stepped aside so she wouldn't have to keep looking past him.

"Vette, this is Silthrai," said Glailen as he gestured to the red-haired woman whom he then addressed next, "and this is Vette."

Silthrai turned her gaze on the twi'lek of the group. Vette had to resist the urge to look away from those eyes, somehow hard but…open. What had this woman gone through in her life? Vette couldn't say and wasn't sure she wanted to find out. Yet, there was a powerful beauty to her – not diminished by the three-pronged scar down the side of her face – that seemed a match for the strength Vette felt from her. Abruptly Vette realized she was just staring and quickly waved her hand half-heartedly.

"Hiya."

The Sith grinned and offered her hand, which Vette awkwardly shook after a second.

"Likewise. I apologize for Khem Val. He's just upset because I won't let him eat any of the Sith around here, so I guess he wanted to bully you." Khem Val had something to say in response that replaced the mirth on Silthrai's face with a frown.

"That's not for you to decide, Khem," she said firmly as she looked back at the imposing figure. Again, Vette found it hard to believe when the beast didn't pick up this small woman in front of her and rip her in two.

"You understand him quite well. I've never heard his language before," stated Glailen.

"Yes, well, not many have. I think the only reason I can understand him is because I released him. Time will tell if that was a good idea or not."

"What did he say about me?" asked Vette, though she wondered why her mouth would betray her so. Silthrai hesitated a moment before responding.

"He doesn't think you belong here."

"Won't argue with him there," said Vette as she looked directly at Khem Val while hoping she didn't look terrified, "but we don't always get what we want." That brought the grin back to Silthrai's face.

"Too true and trust me, Khem knows all about that."

"When did you get planet side?" inquired Glailen.

"This morning. Yourself?"

"The same – or, actually, I suppose it was yesterday at this point. There hasn't been much time to stop since arriving." Glailen shrugged as though the only thing he wanted to do wasn't drop into bed with a plate of food as a pillow. Vette wanted to call him on it but decided now might not be the best time for it. For her part, Silthrai nodded understanding.

"I imagine my experience will be much the same. Speaking of, I should get going. Don't want to keep my master waiting."

"I have a mission of my own to attend to, as well," agreed Glailen.

"Right, this is where we part ways then." Silthrai began backing away, gesturing for Khem Val to join her. The pair had gone a dozen paces before Glailen took a step forward. Vette could see him visibly hesitate next to her before clearing his throat to speak up.

"I'm glad you made it off Korriban, Silthrai," he called after her. She paused and looked back.

"You too, Glailen. Maybe next time we meet one of your companions can threaten to kill one of mine for a change." Offering a wink to punctuate the comment, she turned and resumed her walk.

"I'll see if that can be arranged," said Glailen. Silthrai waved a hand over her head to indicate she had heard. It wasn't until the odd pair had disappeared from sight did Vette say anything.

"I think I like her."

"Good to hear," responded Glailen, though he sounded unconcerned. Vette gave him a sidelong look, trying to manage her curiosity.

"Who is she?"

"I told you." Had Glailen been anyone else, Vette would have knocked him on the head for giving such a response. As things were, she still nearly did but decided to try her words one more time.

"You told me her name, not who she is." Glailen looked at Vette and she stared back patiently. By this point she thought she was starting to understand some of his mannerisms and was pretty sure that was his considering face. He shrugged as though it wasn't important.

"We met on Korriban before I encountered you. She's one of the few acolytes who didn't try to kill me; we even worked together for a short time."

"Wow, you managed to make friends with another Sith," said Vette with genuine astonishment.

"Proud of you, big guy," she added with a playful punch to the shoulder. Glailen was shaking his head though.

"I wouldn't say we're friends. Acquaintances."

"Call it what you'd like but I'll stick with what I see," said Vette with a shrug of her own. Glailen, unamused, turned and began walking.

"Let's go, we have work to do."

"Sure thing, Boss. By the way, what does Scary Boss have for us?"

"We're going to make a Sith Lord angry." Vette stopped in her tracks and stared disbelievingly at Glailen. After a second, he realized it and faced her.

"I'll explain on the way."

---

Airspace restrictions were in place around Lord Grathan's compound, forcing Glailen and Vette's hovercab to drop them off a few miles from the Imperial forward base. Glailen understood the reasons for imposing the restrictions and wouldn't have been so annoyed about it if securing further transport to the base hadn't taken so long. Apparently, being only an apprentice of the Sith had its limitations when there was a shortage of vehicles to move personnel and supplies. There remained advantages to being an apprentice, of course, and one was that no one asked where he was going. The base itself was nothing interesting. It held enough troops and heavy equipment to make a serious push for the compound, but activity was relatively slow. Indeed, it took only a moment's inspection to catch on to the atmosphere of boredom permeating throughout the encampment. It was as Baras said, there were no plans to use force to bring the rogue Sith to heel. Glailen held his tongue as he made his way through the base. He wasn't there to criticize the way the Empire dealt with traitors; that was not why his master had sent him.

Even here, the closest Imperial held territory to Grathan's compound, none questioned Glailen's purpose. Not until he came to a bridge leading over a ravine. As Glailen and Vette began making their way across the structure, a lieutenant took notice of them from where he stood with a squad of troopers, halfway across the bridge. The officer approached with an outward confidence but within he was struggling with apprehension. Understandable if he intended to question a Sith. Glailen made sure to maintain an appearance of his own, one of belonging and control.

"Good afternoon, my Lord. I am Lieutenant Thain," said the officer as he and his men came to attention, "and I'm in charge of guarding this bridge, ensuring no one passes through." The small group of six placed themselves between Glailen and making any further progress on his path.

"I'm sure you're doing your job well," remarked the Sith. The slightest twitch betrayed the lieutenant's thoughts. He wanted to enforce the orders he was given no matter who tested him. Glailen understood and sympathized with the man but he had no time waste on special considerations.

"You mean to approach Lord Grathan's compound, I presume?"

"I mean to cross this bridge. Beyond that," Glailen shrugged nonchalantly, "you needn't concern yourself."

"But you understand by admitting you want to pass through you have made this my concern." It was a statement, not a question. Thain was apparently uninterested in wasting too many words on dancing around the problem. Good. Glailen would keep things simple. He advanced a step closer, watching as the other men visibly tensed.

"Do you mean to block my way? Are you prepared to stand against a Sith's wishes?" Thain's mouth tightened to a thin line but he stood his ground. The same could not be said for the troopers at his back as they began shifting nervously. Glailen seized on the moment, not allowing the lieutenant to retaliate.

"My master won't be pleased by delays and, perhaps more importantly, neither will I," said Glailen as he drove the point home and watched it hit its mark. He could see Thain's resolve crumble. No doubt he was aware his troopers were faltering. Together they stood a slim chance at stopping Glailen. Alone…Thain had to consider his future.

"No, my Lord," the lieutenant ground out, "I would never do that. I merely thought it needed stating. Of course."

"Of course," said Glailen, holding the other man's eyes a moment longer than necessary before looking away. He stepped around the lieutenant and that was enough to get the five troopers to part for him to pass with Vette close behind.

"I would also be remiss, my Lord, if I didn't mention something else." Glailen stopped short at the lieutenant's words, turning to face him with a questioning arched brow. Thain wore a sly smile.

"If you encounter any trouble on your walk then I'm afraid you will be on your own. No one will come to assist you." The importance of those words was not lost to Glailen. For most, hearing they were alone when entering hostile territory would be a cause for great concern and no doubt Thain was thinking along those lines as well. Glailen glanced at Vette who met his gaze. After a moment the Sith offered a one-armed shrug.

"Thank you for your concern, Lieutenant, but I'm sure the two of us will manage. We have thus far." Thain had a sour look on his face as the unlikely pair turned away to resume their journey. Once they were safely out of earshot of the bridge, Vette spoke up.

"I'd enjoy you telling off an Imp more if it didn't mean we were going towards other Imps who will be more likely to argue with you."

"Can't be helped," Glailen replied while shaking his head and took a sharp left, "this way."

"So how are we going to get in anyway? Forcing our way past every guard seems…risky." The concern in Vette's tone was as noticeable as it was easy to understand where it came from. Glailen, however, found himself shaking his head again before Vette had even finished speaking.

"Of course, we won't be doing anything so noticeable. The longer we go without raising an alarm, the better chance we'll have of staying alive."

"Great," began Vette with relief, "we're thinking along the same lines. That doesn't answer my question though."

"A benefit of having someone on the inside is learning things Imperial Command is not privy to." It was a vague answer but sufficient to quiet Vette for a time as the pair made their way through the dense foliage.

They hadn't been walking for long when Glailen began sharply angling them towards the compound. In short order they came to the rock face that acted as part of the natural defenses Grathan depended on to protect his fortress. Pausing at the stone wall, Glailen consulted his holowatch for a moment before leading them further along. Once they'd covered perhaps another one hundred meters, Glailen made a sudden stop. He looked around and nodded to himself.

"This is it."

"This is what?" asked Vette incredulously as the spot they were at now looked exactly the same as the rest of their stroll along the mountainous rocks. Glailen's only response was a motion for her to quiet down and remain where she was. Biting her tongue, Vette crossed her arms and waited as the Sith walked a few yards off before facing the wall of stone.

Satisfied with his position, Glailen drew his lightsaber and ignited it. He then reached out with his free hand as though to grasp something. A moment was needed to search with the Force but then he found them and took hold of them with his power. He yanked his arm back. Suddenly two people flew out of the stone, coming for Glailen. The Sith lashed out with his lightsaber. When the hapless individuals hit the ground, they didn't stir. Glailen paused for a second to reach out with the Force again, searching for any further threats but quickly concluded it was only the two guards. He began walking towards where the pair had appeared from and gestured for Vette to follow. She didn't react right away; she needed some time to gather her wits.

"Wow," she said as she came up beside him, "those guys had no idea what hit them, that's for sure." Glailen didn't have anything to add to Vette's comment but, after a moment, felt the twi'lek's eyes resting heavily on him, prompting a reaction.

"What?"

"Sometimes I forget what you're capable of," Vette paused to wave a hand in the direction of the corpses, "then you remind me." This time Glailen felt he should say something but wasn't sure what, leaving him to settle for a shrug. Vette, on the other hand, had yet more to say.

"It also seems odd, how quick you are to take these guys out when you worked hard not to kill anyone on the Black Talon." Glailen could see where the confusion for Vette was coming from – how could he not? – but equally he perceived the distinction.

'The Republic is larger than us. They can afford descension in the ranks. We must never allow the same weakness.'

"That's different. Everyone on the Black Talon were loyal subjects of the Empire. Any one who follows Grathan is a traitor and will be treated as such." The Sith spoke with absolute conviction. If Vette argued the point, then he would defend his stance with certainty that he wouldn't change his mind. Vette appeared to put some thought into his words but instead of challenging them, she merely nodded.

"Okay, I get what you're saying."

With that question settled, Glailen advanced on the secret passage. The information provided by Baras' apprentice on the inside turned out to be good and that was certainly for the best. The alternative left the pair with a much smaller chance of survival. As things were, he stepped through what appeared to be solid rock and entered a small, dimly lit tunnel. On the floor was a small device projecting an image of stone at the entrance to fool passers-by. It made sense for there to be a few lesser paths to go to and from Grathan's stronghold. Finding one would have been the incredibly difficult part without a source in the know.

Vette was more hesitant to walk into what was by all appearances solid rock but Glailen didn't have to wait long. Once she was through, he gave her a moment to get her bearings before beginning the trek through the tunnel. Vette quickly took to staying close on his heels; perhaps from a worry of becoming separated and lost though it was a while before the tunnel branched off and even then, it was obvious which way to take. Whoever had planned the tunnel system had been kind enough to keep one path lit so anyone unfamiliar with the area wouldn't get lost. While Glailen considered it a lazy oversight in security, he was nonetheless glad he wouldn't have to rely entirely on his senses to get through the claustrophobic experience.

Eventually the pair came in sight of light that was not artificial. They had found the entrance to Grathan's compound. It felt like they had been walking for hours but a quick look at his datawatch showed Glailen it had actually been less than one. Glailen was actually glad for this, it gave him more time left in the day to work with and now that they had entered the belly of the beast, it was time for the real work. Although, as they approached the end of the tunnel, Glailen began to wonder just how much effort he would have to put into the mission.

The Force told him there were no threats close by and in fact there was no one guarding the entrance to the tunnel. Whoever was in charge of security hadn't even bothered with the simple redundancy of placing a droid at this end. As he reached the opening, Glailen looked around in disgust from his hidden position. From what he could see, the people under Grathan's command were even less concerned with the siege than the troops back at the Imperial outpost. Then again, why would they need to be when the Imperial Army was making no moves to take the initiative? Shaking his head, Glailen couldn't help thinking how the traitors and the loyalists deserved each other; cut from the same cloth. It made perfect sense, of course, as until recently they were one and the same. Remembering that didn't improve the young Sith's mood. But, if nothing else, it would be easier to sneak through the compound with the security criminally laxing.

"I have to say, this place is bigger than I was expecting. How are we going to get anywhere without being seen?" asked Vette as she tried to flatten herself further against the tunnel wall.

"By staying close, moving when I say and waiting when I do," responded Glailen, having confidence equal in measure to Vette's apprehension.

"Right. I put my precious life in your careful hands." Though she tried to downplay her worry, Glailen could sense Vette's fear. He tried to remind himself that they were two very different individuals. While he saw the layout of the compound and was disgusted with the light security measures, Vette no doubt saw the millions of ways they could be found out and killed. They were in it together, however, and would need to trust each other when the time came. Vette would have to trust Glailen to lead her and he would have to trust his nervous companion not to freeze up.

Done with waiting, Glailen made a dash for the nearest cover. An instant later and Vette was on his heels. They continued like that for some time, moving when the area appeared clear and pausing in silent stillness when they knew they were not alone. At no point was Glailen particularly worried they would be found out. The guards – what few there were – gave the impression they were only going through the motions with no thoughts on actually catching an intruder. The only real concern were the droids that guarded various points in the compound. Droids, unlike people, were not susceptible to the lazy mindset that came with complacency. They also lacked imagination; it was easy to read their patterns of movement. The pair made swift progress, eventually stopping in the shadows of a warehouse.

"Our contact should be in there," stated Glailen as his eyes scanned the area.

"Fantastic. Let's hope they haven't prepared a spicy welcoming for us." The possibility of betrayal hadn't really occurred to Glailen. It seemed too foolish to actually happen.

"What point would there be in luring a lowly apprentice into a trap? They know Baras wouldn't risk so much by coming himself."

"Don't ask me," replied Vette with a shrug, "I won't pretend to understand Sith. I'm just here to think of terrible stuff that could happen to us."

"Then you're doing a fair job of it."

"You should consider giving me a raise." Vette shot Glailen a mischievous grin; one which Glailen couldn't deny tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"You two certainly talk a lot." Any sense of mirth was suddenly banished from Glailen as he spun to find the source of the voice. A dark-skinned man with scars crossing over his face stepped into view. He had a lightsaber but it remained hanging at his belt; the only reason Glailen himself hadn't drawn his own weapon. The man wore open scorn as he studied the pair he had taken by surprise.

"Not the smartest thing to do when your mission is largely stealth based," he commented with a shake of his head. Glailen studied the man with enforced suspicion. It seemed he was their contact but…

"Sword." The scarred man appeared taken aback by Glailen's one-word statement but it quickly turned to exasperation. Glailen had no intention of saying anything else until he got his desired response.

"Dagger. There, is that obvious enough for you?" said the newcomer as though offering a great concession.

"Have to be sure."

"You can be sure I'm your contact – Dri'kill Ba'al – because I didn't kill the two of you while you were distracted and it's clear you were sent by Baras because no one else would be sneaking around. Besides," Ba'al gestured with a dismissive hand towards Vette, "there are no twi'leks – or any other aliens – in the compound. Lord Grathan doesn't trust sub-species." Vette bristled with indignation, allowing her emotions to get ahead of her. Unless Ba'al wasn't paying attention, he now knew how to get under Vette's skin.

"A shame for him this twi'lek will be aiding in causing him some grief. Now, you indicated to Lord Baras that a weakness had been found?" asked Glailen before anyone could say anything else regrettable.

"We won't speak of it here," said the other Sith who was turning to walk away before the words had left his mouth. After a moment, the pair of interlopers followed. Ba'al stopped at a corner to look around before going out into the open. He stopped in front of a door that opened to a keycard he carried. An impatient wave brought Glailen and Vette out of the shadows to slip inside the building. Once inside, Glailen couldn't help but notice all the open space and the lack of cover but Ba'al strode forward looking and sensing utterly calm. After a second's hesitation, Glailen joined the other Sith. Despite the other man's confidence, Glailen stayed alert and tried to look everywhere at once without appearing to do so. It didn't look like there was anyone else in the building, organic or artificial, but there were a number of obvious cameras.

"You're not worried about our presence being captured on one of the security cameras?" asked Glailen in low tones without looking at the other man.

"Not after I shut the system off," stated Ba'al matter-of-factly.

"And that won't raise some eyebrows in the aftermath?"

"I won't be surprised if thinking ahead is beyond your skillset, brute, but don't presume I suffer the same weakness." Ba'al shot the Sith apprentice an icy glare as he spoke but Glailen didn't rise to it. Pursing his lips, he waited for the other man to reveal the secrets of his strategic mind. After allowing Glailen to suffer in silence for a few moments, Ba'al spoke again.

"For the past few weeks, I've been shutting down the system in the buildings in the area at random intervals. A bug planted in the network allows me to do so from my datapad whenever I wish. There's a precedent for it now, one that the security services believe is a glitch in the system they have yet to fix. I've been doing it in preparation for when our master would move against Lord Grathan." Despite haughtiness in Ba'al's tone, Glailen couldn't help but nod admiringly.

"Clever. I can see why Lord Baras trusted the task of infiltrating Grathan's compound to you."

"I have never failed our master and I never will. Hopefully you can say the same – at least for today." To hide his frown, Glailen looked away from the other man, pretending to study his surroundings. He was trying to meet Ba'al halfway but an apprentice rivalry might forge a chasm too great from them.

"Did it get colder in here?" asked Vette into the uncomfortable silence. Glailen looked back at his companion who offered a shrug in response.

The trio continued in silence but for the sound of their footfalls as Ba'al led them up a flight of stairs and into an office. Ba'al strode up to the desk in the center of the room and pressed a button on it that closed the door behind them. With arms crossed, the scarred Sith turned to face Glailen and Vette. Instead of speaking, however, he decided to lean back against the desk and study them. Five seconds passed before Vette began shifting nervously. Glailen couldn't deny he was feeling impatient as well.

"Is this room secure?" asked Glailen by way of breaking the silence.

"Of course."

"Well?" he pressed. Ba'al pushed off from the desk and walked over until he was only a couple of feet from Glailen. He leaned incrementally closer as though confiding in an important secret – though it gave little credence to his assurance that they would not be overheard.

"Lord Grathan has a son," stated Ba'al. With his secret divulged he leaned back and retreated to the desk. Slowly, Glailen nodded. Thoughts of what he would have to do circling his mind.

"Yes, that will do. A fairly obvious weakness."

"Obvious only if they are known to exist," cut in Ba'al, "but Lord Grathan has done an exceptional job at hiding his spawn. He is nearly twenty years old."

"That is some time to keep such a secret," opined Glailen.

"It is public knowledge that he is a married man and has been for some time but there was never an announcement of a child. Lord Grathan has suffered a great deal of wounds in his life and it was thought that perhaps one of his injuries left him incapable of siring an heir."

"But now we know he managed to keep his bloodline going. What changed?"

"It's hard to keep secrets in a finite space with so many people sharing that same space. I've noticed Lady Grathan with a young man at her side. I have seen Lady Grathan without him but I have never seen him without her nearby. My suspicions prompted me to investigate. It took a couple of months but I obtained DNA samples from both and tested them against each other. The boy is Lady Grathan's son. Therefore, he is the son of Lord Grathan."

"There's an assumption there," Glailen warned. A hand cutting through the air showed what Ba'al thought of that.

"Don't be stupid. Lord Grathan would never accept his wife having an affair with another and he certainly wouldn't allow her to bear the child of another man. There is no doubt here. Lord Grathan has a son named Beelzlit." Hard eyes challenged Glailen to dispute the reasoning put forth. Despite not wanting to get into a heated debate, Glailen still nearly took up that challenge. After a few moments, however, he relented.

"Very well, we'll proceed under the knowledge that this Beelzlit is the heir to the Grathan name."

"Good. Your task is simple then, even for you; find the boy and kill him. That would send an undeniable message to Lord Grathan." There was an odd mix of satisfaction and resentment to the words as Ba'al spoke them. Glailen opted to stay on task instead of wondering where the other man's head was at.

"He must be well protected."

"Only hidden. Lord Grathan is not stupid enough to draw attention by being overbearing with security." Glailen cocked his head to the side, considering, before nodding acceptance.

"Any idea where I would look then?"

"In the main complex, of course. Sneak in, kill the boy and then get out. Take this," Ba'al's hand shot out and a tiny object hurled toward Glailen. The latter Sith caught the item before he could strike his face. He glanced at what he had – without looking away from Ba'al – to find a datastick held between his fingers.

"I programed that datastick myself. It should be able to get you past any doors in the compound. Beyond that everything is up to you. Hopefully your fighting abilities are better than your stealth but they couldn't be any worse." Eyes narrowed at Ba'al with irritation. The other apprentice insisted on poking at Glailen. It was something Glailen had hoped he would be able to move past upon becoming an apprentice but in hindsight that was wishful thinking.

"Funny. I presume you'll be here, waiting for my return?" Now it was Ba'al who looked annoyed by Glailen's question, hesitating a moment before responding.

"With bated breath."

"I'll try not to be long then," Before Ba'al could offer any further retorts, Glailen whipped around and made for the door. He had to hit a button on the control panel to open it because of course the other man wouldn't put the effort in to unlocking it. Vette was close at Glailen's side as he quickly descended the stairs.

"Making friends wherever you go, huh?" she asked once at the bottom. Glailen meant to respond with a noncommittal grunt but it came out as a growl. Perhaps Ba'al was getting to him.

"You know, I'm aware he's got a terrible attitude but there's something about him I like," Glailen looked towards Vette with a questioning tilt to his eyebrow as she spoke, "maybe it's how easily he seems to have got under your skin." Glailen gaped at his companion. It's like she knew what I was thinking. That's enough to make me uncomfortable. Although, I wasn't hiding it very well if I'm honest with myself. Just further proof that Vette's not wrong.

"You admire how he antagonizes me?" Glailen tried to hide the annoyance from his tone. He wasn't annoyed at Vette. Not really, anyway.

"It's kind of fun to watch when I mentally take a few steps back from the situation."

"Maybe that's my problem." This time it was Vette who stared a question at Glailen.

"I'm standing too close."

As the pair left the building they fell into silence and began making their way across the compound. They knew their roles with Vette lending an extra pair of eyes to the surroundings and Glailen leading the way with a confidence he only sometimes had to convince himself that he had. It was slow going as the number of people and droids going about their business only grew as they got closer to the center. One particularly difficult moment came they had to cross nearly twenty meters through an open area. The best option seemed to be to make as though they belonged where they were. Proceeding at a steady and unhurried pace, they moved through the clearing without anyone calling for them to stop. Glailen allowed himself only one opportunity to check the time as they made their way through the compound. He chose to use it once the clearing was behind them and was frustrated to find it had already been two hours since they arrived at the secret entrance. Glailen wanted to make better time but knew he couldn't do so safely. Unless I was alone…

Not for the first time on this mission, Glailen found himself wishing he'd pushed for Vette to remain behind. There were enough opportunities. She could have stayed at the apartment or the Imperial outpost or even with Ba'al but Glailen hadn't brought it up. Without her, there was no doubt he could move faster and more; he wouldn't have to consider her safety. Going after the slaves alone had reminded him of how much simpler it was when he only had himself to worry about.

As the pair paused a moment in the shadow of a building, Glailen found his eyes drifting to Vette. She was looking away and didn't notice the consternation on his face. Why hadn't he told her to stay behind? Why couldn't he ask her to stay behind?

'In the field, there's nothing more important than knowing someone's got your back.'

Frowning, Glailen tried to shake the words flitting across his memory.

'We're all we have. We have to trust each other.'

Glailen winced as though struck.

"You all right?" Vette had noticed Glailen odd movement.

"I'm fine," he said with a brisk nod. Glailen quickly looked around to change the subject. He pointed at a wide and squat building. It was shorter than every other structure they'd encountered in the compound but also had a pair of guards at the front door with others patrolling the area.

"I'll bet that's the one we're looking for."

"Not taking that bet," replied Vette with a pained look. Getting in would be a sensitive procedure but there was no going back. Glailen was glad he didn't need to reiterate that fact.

They moved as close as they could to their target before running out of cover. All that was left was to get through the front door – past all the guards. Glailen studied the movements of the guards and grew more agitated the with the more he saw. The two in front of the door never moved, therefore they would need to be taken out in order to pass but even if the bodies could be hidden before another guard walked over, their absence would cause the same alarm. Using the Force to cause a distraction further away came to mind but in order for that to work, all the guards needed to investigate. That was truly wishful thinking. No, there weren't many options at all.

Glailen looked at Vette and met her concerned expression. It seemed she hadn't thought of any good ideas either. A sigh escaped Glailen's lips as he looked away. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, listening to the Force. A hand wrapped around the hilt of his lightsaber. He waited for the moment.

The moment came.

As his lightsaber flashed to life, Glailen leapt from his hiding place. He moved with his Force-enhanced speed, rushing the unaware guards. The Force had served him well. For a moment all the guards were placed between Glailen and the front entrance to the building. A perfect coincidence granting Glailen the one chance he needed and he used it.

The first guard was decapitated before any of them knew he was there. The second was nearly cut in half as the remainder turned their attention to Glailen. He was moving fast but he had to push himself to go faster. If he didn't take them all down before one of them raised the alarm then survival for he and Vette would drop drastically. Glailen kept that in mind as he swiped his blade across the chest of another guard. The movements of his enemies were so clear to him as the guard closest leveled their blaster on him. Another guard by the door was turning to a control panel, they were trying to inform others of Glailen's presence. It was the Black Talon all over again. No – Glailen wouldn't allow a repeat. The guard closest to Glailen fired and as Glailen deflected the bolt he directed it towards the guard moving for the panel. It struck them in the back; they crumpled to the ground. It was then that the second guard by the doors fired a round from their blaster and this one Glailen directed at the guard closest to him. They were hit in the side of the head, dying before they knew what happened. One guard remained and they were aware of it as they began firing with abandon. Glailen advanced quickly, deflecting or dodging blaster bolts. He felt the panic rising in the guard as he got closer until it boiled over and the guard let out a scream. Glailen swiftly cut if off with a swipe of his blade.

Glailen deactivated his weapon but didn't move. He listened. He felt with the Force. Nothing. There were no threats to detect and the tension in the air did not rise. It seemed he had succeeded.

"You sure you didn't practice that ahead of time?" Glailen turned to Vette as she came out of the shadows.

"Because you make it look easy when I'm pretty sure it's not."

"When the alternative is probable death, there's really no room for overthinking it," Glailen answered with a shrug. Vette gave him a dubious look but said nothing. It was just as well as Glailen wanted to move forward before anyone else happened along. There just remained the question of how to do so. One look at the control panel ruled that out for Glailen. He couldn't imagine there not being a passcode and probably a warning system for when the code was entered incorrectly. Really the only option was cutting through the door then. He ignited his lightsaber once more.

"Hey, wait!" Vette said urgently. Glailen stopped midmotion to shoot his companion a questioning look.

"Before you go make a bigger mess – and maybe setting off an alarm linked to the door – let me try some of my finer skills." Glailen considered for barely a moment before nodding his assent. If Vette thought she could get them inside by being less flashy, then he would give her the chance. The twi'lek knelt before the control panel and removed a sheet of metal directly below it, revealing a mass of cords. Curious, Glailen watched as his companion set to work but refrained from speaking. It wouldn't do to disturb her concentration. A few minutes later and the doors slid open. Glailen was sure his method would have been quicker but speed wasn't always the most important factor.

"Good work," he said, "I didn't know your skillset included rewiring circuits." Pausing, Glailen considered his own words.

"I suppose I don't know too much about what you can do."

"Maybe we'll live long enough for you to learn a few more things," said Vette with a shrug.

Grunting, Glailen took the lead as they entered the building. There was a mission to complete and they needed to stay focused. They had only gone a short distance before a droid came around a corner and spotted them. Glailen reacted instantly, activating his lightsaber and throwing it at the automaton. With the Force guiding it, the weapon's path was true and soon the droid was slashed apart at the chest. As his weapon returned to his hand, Glailen turned to Vette.

"Let's move a bit faster," he said and gave Vette barely enough time to nod before he broke into a jog.

Twice more Glailen had to dispatch some droids before the pair came across a lift that could hopefully take them where they needed to go. A sense of urgency was beginning to grip the two of them. Even Glailen was starting to allow his anxiety to get a hold of him. The fact that he could sense Vette's rising worry did nothing to help things though. It seemed the closer they got to their target the more obvious a trail they were leaving in their path. Before long someone would stumble upon Glailen's work. They needed to hurry.

Once inside the lift Glailen took a quick look at their options. It appeared the build went down six floors below the surface and that served to encourage Glailen's belief that they were in the right place. It was hard to bomb a building that was in the ground and harder still to hit a particular target if they were far enough down. This was Lord Grathan's command bunker and soon it would be his son's tomb. It stands to reason Grathan would be on the bottom level. He would keep his family close, of course… Glailen hit the button for sub-basement six. Without knowing for certain where to look, the first choice should be the best option. The doors slid shut and the gentle shifting of movement indicated the pair's descent into the heart of Grathan's domain.

Before too long the lift settled to a stop and the doors opened. Glailen and Vette came face to face with four troopers. Their moment of confusion was greatly received by Glailen as he rushed forward and activated his lightsaber. It was when a lightsaber plunged through one of their fellows that the remaining troopers realized the danger they were in. By then Glailen was already among them. He moved quickly with precise strikes to dispatch the group until he was left alone standing.

A blaster shot rang out in the ensuing silence. Glailen instantly crouched low with his blade held defensively. Despite his readiness, he didn't sense any immediate danger. That was when he took allowed himself to look with his eyes instead of sensing with the Force. He quickly found a droid – or what remained of a droid as its head had been blown off and it was now scrap metal lying on the floor. Glailen looked over at his companion.

"Watching your back, partner," Vette declared with a wink for emphasis. Glailen nodded his thanks. Now there was just the matter of which way the pair should go.

"So how are we going to know where this Beelzlit is anyway?" asked Vette, voicing Glailen's own thoughts.

"The Force will tell me," answered the Sith without hesitation as he turned his head to look down one hall to the next.

"Will it?" Vette tried to hide her doubt as she asked the question. Glailen nodded.

"The Force serves me. It can give me anything I need, provided I am strong enough to take it."

"Okay." The word hung in the air as Vette moved to stand next to Glailen. She mirrored his head movement's, looking where he did.

"So, uh, which way is it saying to take right now?" Glailen did not answer right away. He needed to concentrate, to take a firm hold of the Force and bend it to his will. His path became clear.

"Left."

Before Vette could offer any words of doubt, Glailen follow his own instructions and proceeded down the left hall. Vette didn't hesitate to follow but he could sense she wasn't convinced. It didn't matter so long as she continued to follow his lead. They didn't move quickly as Glailen needed to focus on what the Force was trying to communicate to him. Each door they passed could have hidden their target behind it but without a noticeable ripple in the Force, Glailen had to pass them by. He refused to second guess each decision. That would only too easily lead to his movements, mental and physical, becoming paralyzed. His discipline would be rewarded.

They had only been walking for a couple of minutes when Glailen made a sudden stop. Yes, he could not deny what he felt through the Force from where he stood. He turned to the shut door on his left. Behind that door was his target, he was as certain of that as he was of his own name. As he came up to the door, he pulled out the dataspike provided by Ba'al, wondering, not for the first time, if he was about to fall into a trap. But as with before, he didn't allow second-guessing to take hold of him. He inserted the spike into the control panel and waited. Some lights began flickering on the stick as it did something; then the door slid open. Glailen strode inside the room with Vette a step behind.

"Mother." They had only taken a single step inside before their presence was noted – the fact it took as long as that was encouraging in Glailen's mind. A young man seated at a desk on the other end of the room noticed their entrance first and his eyes, filled with suspicion, locked on Glailen. Beelzlit was within the reach of the would-be assassin.

It was however, the woman standing by the desk who drew Glailen's attention as she turned from Beelzlit to take in the pair of trespassers. She was in her late forties to early fifties, regal and with an air of command, Glailen would have presumed he was facing the Lady of House Grathan even had Beelzlit not already given away her identity. Her eyes quickly roamed over Glailen, scrutinizing every inch of his body in the span of a couple of seconds but concern never touched them.

"You're not one of my husband's, who are you?" she asked, though making it sound more like a statement. Yes, she was used to being obeyed.

"Who I am is not important but what I have come to do is."

"I am Cellvanta Grathan, Lady of House Grathan and you will speak plainly when spoken to." She poured a river of authority into her words. Glailen was even almost convinced to cooperate but he could match wills as well as lightsabers.

"All you need to know is your husband has powerful enemies in Kaas City and I represent one of them. I have been sent to remind Lord Grathan that he is not untouchable here in his lair."

"You're here to kill us," declared Cellvanta; again, without much concern. A simple stating of fact.

"No," Glailen corrected, "I'm here to kill Beelzlit. You could step aside."

"You think I'll simply stand by and let you kill my son?" The tone to Cellvanta's words indicated there was no chance at all of that happening. Whether consciously or not, her stance became more defensive. Glailen drew his lightsaber as he casually loosened up.

"Truthfully, I wasn't sure. Not surprised by your reaction though." Lightsaber igniting, Glailen adopted a stance and waited. He would not rush into the fight – he had to keep in mind who he was facing or he would deserve to fall here. Cellvanta's gaze narrowed on his, indignation and offense mixing together to form a roiling mass of anger within her.

"You are a very stupid man. I am Sith. Whoever holds your leash should have sent more than a lowly apprentice and his pet twi'lek."

"Don't worry about my friend. Keep your eyes on me or this will be a quick fight." Glailen refused to feel any worry for Vette lest Cellvanta sense it and take advantage. Luckily Vette took the hint and backed up to the doorway, giving them all the space she could for the fight.

"Oh, but it will be a quick fight, boy." In a flash of motion, Cellvanta had her lightsaber in hand and ignited.

"Beelzlit," addressed Cellvanta without taking her eyes from her opponent, "stay back while I–" Cellvanta cut off at the sight of Beelzlit leaping over the desk and activating his lightsaber.

"No, Mother, I will stand with you!" Before Cellvanta could argue, her son charged their assassin. Glailen admired the other man's spirit but that didn't change what he was there to do.

Glailen held his ground and met Beelzlit's attack. Crackling filled the room as their blades made a quick series of exchanges. Already Glailen could see his younger opponent was either not taking the fight seriously or wasn't on the same level as his potential killer. Glailen had no wish to learn which was true and picked the first opening that revealed itself. With a hard kick to the knee, Beelzlit just to a kneeling position on the floor. He cried out and lost focus, failing to keep his guard up. That would be his fatal error. It would have been had his mother not been involved as well. A third lightsaber appeared from the right to intercept Glailen's downward drive and remind him he had two opponents.

Cellvanta held Glailen's blade at bay with strength that belied her appearance and Beelzlit was about to recover. Glailen adjusted his footing and threw another kick at Beelzlit, this time hitting the other man in the temple with his shin. The blow sent Beelzlit to the right to lie flat on the floor and allow Glailen to keep an eye on both Grathans. Every second proved crucial as Glailen had just enough time to regain proper footing before Cellvanta began an assault of her own. Glailen gave ground to the attack, hoping to create some distance from Beelzlit before the other man fully recovered and look for Cellvanta to offer an opening.

As Glailen kept his defense up he soon noticed Cellvanta's growing frustration. She was skilled and her command of the Force was giving her the strength and stamina to give a ferocious fight but it wasn't enough. Something irked her as Glailen consistently blocked each blow and gave more ground. Perhaps she was too used to having things her way. Who was this man to invade her home and threaten her son? Who was he to not die at her hands? Her attacks became more vicious but began to lack eloquence. Even so, beneath it all Glailen could glimpse the warrior Cellvanta had been before being smothered by too many years of decadence.

Glailen's foot hit the wall behind him as he ran out of room to pull back. Instantly Cellvanta's expression changed to triumph as she noticed the same thing. Victory was within her grasp as Glailen could no longer retreat. She committed to finishing blow. It was just as Glailen hoped she would. As Cellvanta's blade came, Glailen caught it on his own before sidestepping and directing the Grathan's weapon towards the wall. The red blade melted a hole almost up to the hilt before Cellvanta stopped her momentum. Before she could retract her weapon, Glailen struck Cellvanta in the back of her head with an elbow. For a moment she was stunned by the blow and Glailen took the opportunity to swing his lightsaber for her back. At the last possible instant Glailen's weapon was blocked by another red blade. He turned to face Beelzlit and all the fury in his gaze.

"It's me you want, isn't it?" growled the Sith heir. While keeping his eyes on Beelzlit, Glailen snapped a punch out that connected squarely with Cellvanta's face. He then used the same hand to grab the back of her head and drive her face into the wall. She dropped as her legs gave out under her.

"Yes."

Beelzlit was watching his mother in horror and Glailen quickly took advantage of his distraction. His strikes came with frightening fury as Glailen made to ensure he would only have one opponent left by the time Cellvanta recovered. Desperately Beelzlit defended but he had to backpedal recklessly just to gain any sort of breathing room. Glailen wasn't inclined to make it easy for the other Sith and pursued relentlessly. This was no controlled training environment. Glailen was not a servant of House Grathan afraid of actually harming the heir-apparent. This was what a real fight was and Beelzlit would never get a chance to learn from it.

Their blades flew apart and then snapped together again with ever increasing speed but Glailen held the initiative. While Beelzlit had to focus entirely on one blow to the next, Glailen was looking ahead to how he would finish the fight and gauging his opponent. It didn't take long for Beelzlit to start breathing heavily and that was when Glailen made his move; his blade smashed into Beelzlit's but this time he refused to be pulled apart. Desperately Beelzlit tried to overcome the test of strength but it was a faint as Glailen pulled one hand away and gathered the Force for one mighty attack. Glailen threw his hand out and Beelzlit was sent flying across the room to slam into the desk. The force of the impact was nearly enough to cause the heavy desk to flip over. As Beelzlit settled to the floor, he clutched at his back and gasped from a combination of the pain and a sudden difficulty breathing. Glailen quickly crossed the space between them. Even in his dazed state, Beelzlit brought his lightsaber up defensively but it was quickly swatted aside by Glailen who made a return swipe that cut through the hilt, rendering the weapon useless. Beelzlit seemed to sag as the realization of his defeat settled in. Not that he had much time to think about it as Glailen pointed his raised lightsaber at his chest.

"Beelzlit!"

Glailen whipped around, prepared to defend against an attack from Cellvanta. As his eyes settled on her, however, he found she had just retrieved her lightsaber and was still by the far wall. She couldn't stop him from finishing her son, not if Glailen moved quickly. He turned back to the beaten Beelzlit and surged forward for the final blow.

"Wait! Please!"

Beelzlit stared uncomprehending at the tip of lightsaber hovering inches from his throat. Glailen couldn't blame him – he was doing the same thing. Why had he stopped. Teeth grinding together, Glailen turned his head so he could see Cellvanta out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't charging him; she wasn't using the Force in some ranged attack. She was on the floor, on her knees with lightsaber forgotten beside her. Her hands were held up in a pleading gesture as she stared imploringly at Glailen.

"Please, Sith, please. Don't kill him. He's my son. My only son." Glailen's eyes shined with hate but Cellvanta didn't turn away. Maybe she realized it wasn't all for her. Glailen's hands gripped his lightsaber to tightly he would have worried about breaking it if he weren't struggling internally. He turned his eyes back to Beelzlit whose own gaze was shifting between Glailen and his mother.

"Please."

"I have my orders," growled Glailen.

"Stay back, Mother! If I am to die this day then let it be alone. You needn't go with me."

"No, Beelzlit, you must endure. You must live." Cellvanta spoke with a calmness that didn't fit with the situation and certainly didn't match what Glailen felt from her. So much fear for what would happen to her son. The fear that no matter what she did or said, it wouldn't make a difference.

"Sith, you don't have to kill him."

"I thought I explained myself well enough." Glailen fairly shouted the words, surprising himself more than anyone else.

"But why him?" pressed Cellvanta.

"Why go to all this trouble to kill a boy when the master himself is within your grasp?"

"As I said, I have my orders. Lord Grathan must live to continue his work with a new fear for the future." Glailen shook his head violently in an effort to ward off any doubt.

"And he can live." The certainty with which the confusing statement was made broke through to Glailen. He looked back at Cellvanta and saw the hope blossoming on her face. A hope that she was getting through to him.

"Here me out. My husband has been grievously wounded in the past on multiple occasions. One such occasion nearly left him beheaded and now he cannot survive without his helmeted mask. It's well known amongst the Sith of Dromund Kaas." Glailen's eyes widened and his gripped loosened as he began to comprehend what Cellvanta was proposing. She seized on the opportunity.

"Kill my husband and my son will wear the mask, playing the part of his father and condemning the assassination of his son. We both get what we want." Slowly Glailen's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Do you want to save your son so much you would sacrifice your husband or are you achieving two goals with this plan." A faint smile crept over Cellvanta's lips.

"You're sharp. Yes, I want my husband dead. I married him for power but I've spent long enough in his thrall." It wasn't a surprising admission. In a society of Sith, it was fairly common. Could it really work? Glailen's eyes snapped back to Beelzlit.

"And you, Beelzlit? How do you feel about this plan?" The other man met Glailen's eyes unwavering. He hated and feared Glailen, that was to see let alone sense, but there was conviction as well as he spoke.

"My Mother has always cared more for me than my Father ever did," Beelzlit's eyes drifted to his mother.

"I'll gladly follow my Mother's wishes." Time slowed to a stop as everyone held their breath for whatever happened next. No. For whatever Glailen did next. He was the one with the power in that moment. So, why then did he feel so vulnerable.

This is a terrible idea.

"I believe you," Glailen breathed as he straightened and deactivated his lightsaber. He turned to Cellvanta.

"Both of you." The Sith Lord sighed with relief and got shakily to her feet. Glailen breathed in deep and blew out slowly before asking his next question.

"Where do I find Lord Grathan?"

"As I said," began Cellvanta as she walked over to her son's side, "you're close. Continue done the hall; at the very end you will find a door on the left leading to my husband's personal command hub. He is there alone and this pass card with grant you entry." Glailen stared at the offered card. Once he took it there would be no going back. Right? It certainly felt like it. He snatched it from Cellvanta and turned away.

"I'll be back."

Glailen marched away without a glance back. He walked past a shocked Vette without a word. Eventually he stopped in the hallway when a hand grabbed his arm. He whirled around to find Vette staring incredulously at him.

"Okay, let me get this straight." Sighing, Glailen gave Vette his full attention and resisted the urge to cross him arms in impatience. The twi'lek took a moment to gather her thoughts but then laid in relentlessly.

"You just overcame two Sith to fulfill your mission and now you're going after another Sith – who is probably a lot stronger – and risking your head on a promise from Cellvanta that she and Beelzlit will play along? After you tried to kill them? Not to mention that's if you can actually beat this Grathan guy who sounds pretty scary to me." Vette paused for breath which gave Glailen a chance to respond. He didn't though. Everything his companion had said was valid and he wasn't sure what to say just yet.

"I'm not saying I want you to go back there," continued Vette, "and kill Beelzlit…I think. I mean, I don't like that you go around killing people but I also get that it comes with the territory. It's just, this seems like an awfully big risk and I don't get it." This time when Vette stopped speaking it was clearly done on purpose. Now she wanted him to say something. Still Glailen remained silent. Vette waved a hand in front of Glailen as though trying to get his attention.

"Why?"

Tell her.

Glailen stared at Vette.

What harm would it do?

Vette stared back at Glailen.

What are you afraid of?

Vette's brow rose with insistence.

Tell her.

Glailen looked away.

"I want the challenge. I want to see how I measure up to a true Sith Lord."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Liar.

"Well okay. Lead on." Immediately Glailen took the opportunity to move down the hall at something just short of a run. As fast as he went, he couldn't escape the uncomfortable feeling he was left with. Vette was unsatisfied with his explanation and it was no surprise. A gamorrean could have seen through Glailen's deflection.

Now was not the time for Glailen to lose focus. Even more than before, he had to keep his mind on the task at hand. Lord Grathan was powerful enough that Baras considered him a rival – not an equal but a force to be reckoned with. That was enough reason for Glailen to not allow his previous victory to drive him to overconfidence. He steadied his breathing and cleared his mind of unnecessary distractions. What he told Vette, about wanting a challenge, hadn't been the whole truth but it was part of it – the part he chose to focus on. Glailen wanted to test himself against Lord Grathan, especially after dispatching with the Sith lord's wife and son without much concern. If he was going to become stronger – if he was going to be strong enough – Glailen needed to constantly test himself against more dangerous opponents.

He could die, of course, but that was just the risk that needed to be taken. It was all part of the life that had been thrust upon him. None of this was his first choice in life but Glailen would give everything he had to it until it killed him. Maybe he was about to fall in an incredibly foolish display of misjudgement. Then again, maybe the bodies were just beginning to pile up.

Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere in the hallway. It appeared to get darker. No, that wasn't quite right. It was darker but there was nothing otherworldly about it. A look around showed that every other light was off whereas in the right of the compound they had all been on. Did the lord of the house prefer a darker tone to his home or was it a psychological move? It was enough to wreck havoc with Vette's nerves but Grathan would have to try something else if he wanted to rattle Glailen. The young Sith welcomed the dark and, as he stopped in front of the door at the end of the hallway, he welcomed the fight ahead.

A swipe of the pass card over the control panel was rewarded with a flash of green light and the screen displaying the word 'unlocked' on it. Cellvanta had been good on her word thus far. The doors parted for Glailen and Vette to pass through. Glailen didn't even wait for the doors to finish moving before he walked into the large room. He spent a couple of seconds to take in his surroundings. The room was quite big with computers and large screen on three sides; enough equipment to oversee the compound's day-to-day operations or command in times of battle. In the center of the room was a wide table with many chairs, no doubt set up for important meetings. What most interested Glailen was the figure standing in front of that table, facing away from Glailen as they look at a small monitor built into the piece of furniture.

Here was Lord Grathan.

After a moment, the Sith Lord leisurely turned to face the intruders into his sanctum. When finally, he faced them, Glailen understood what he'd been hearing of Grathan's condition. If he hadn't been told the man was human, he would have presumed he now faced an expensively built droid. In particular, Grathan's entire head and neck were encased in machinery, further adding to the impression. Two glowing red dots acted as eyes peering holes through Glailen, searching beneath the surface. Glailen didn't meet those artificial eyes as he too looked under the cold. metallic, covering to the burning anger beyond. As calm as the Sith Lord may appear, with his straight posture and hands clasped behind his back, he couldn't completely hide the burgeoning rage at someone daring to run amuck through his stronghold.

"You've finally arrived," stated the filtered voice. Glailen cocked his head.

"You were expecting me?" he asked, motioning for Vette to stay by the door.

"Of course," Grathan responded with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I sensed you the moment you stepped into my sanctum. Your mind is unguarded, an open book for me to peruse." A pause followed the declaration. Glailen could feel the other Sith trying to push into his mind. No. That wasn't true – Grathan was right, he was already in. Clenching his fists, Glailen tried to force the lord from his head but the other man appeared not at all put-off by his efforts.

"My wife has plotted against me," Grathan said at last, "that's nothing surprising, but learning who your master is would be interesting."

"My thoughts are my own," Glailen ground out through gritted teeth but the other man was already shaking his head.

"Wrong and they have betrayed you. Although, if Baras thought sending one of his apprentices would be enough then he has sorely underestimated me." The way Grathan so casually sifted through his thoughts lit a simmering rage within Glailen. But, with effort, Glailen forced himself to relax. He held until the anger – it would prove useful soon – fighting a battle he had already lost was pointless. What's more, it didn't matter how much Grathan knew once he was dead.

"I don't know about that. I proved more than a match for your wife and son," replied Glailen with a heavy shrug.

"The role of politician always suited Cellvanta more than warrior and Beelzlit is no more than a novice to the Dark Side. I am a dark lord of the Sith. I was killing Jedi and dominating Sith before you were born."

"Hopefully there's enough left in you to make this challenging."

"Arrogance!" roared Grathan, revealing his own mind was not immune to attack. Glailen was done sparing with words, however, and used the moment Grathan's calm broke to strike. His lightsaber was in his hands in an instant and he cut the distance between them in a few quick strides.

Despite the quickness of Glailen's movements, he could tell Grathan reacted in his own time. When less than a meter separated them, the Sith Lord activated his own lightsaber, the blade appearing in the path of Glailen's attack. The older man had perfectly anticipated where the attack would go, blocking it effortlessly. Glailen didn't stop to feel impressed, immediately breaking off and coming in from a different angle. Again, Grathan's blade was there to meet his, seemingly with time to spare, but again Glailen didn't stop for more than half a second. The younger warrior struck repeatedly but always the attacks were unable to get past the other Sith's defence. Grudgingly, Glailen backed up to reassess how he should approach the fight. He glared daggers at his opponent, wishing he could see the man's actual eyes instead of settling for the more droid-like red dots. Then Glailen realized something, Grathan was fighting with only one hand as the other remained behind his back. A disappointed sigh filled the suddenly very silent room.

"To think Baras would insult me by sending nothing more than a pup to try and kill me."

"We're just getting warmed up," countered Glailen.

"Everything you say further proves your ignorance. Your form betrays you." Glailen wasn't sure what Grathan was referring to but said nothing. Pursing his lips, he continued looking over the other man, searching for an opening. Grathan, however, wasn't satisfied with simply having the last word as he continued.

"Using Shii-Cho alone is not enough to condemn but you use the form in its most basic sense. There's no personal flare, no unique adjustments. All you do is use your strength to force the matter. Only an apprentice fresh from the academy could be so unrefined. No, even someone newly raised to apprentice would know better. You should still be at the academy in training." That hit close to home, nearly causing Glailen to lose focus. It would be clear to anyone that Glailen's time at the academy had been streamlined somewhat. He wasn't even sure how long was normal for an acolyte to spend at the academy but he knew his time had been exceptionally short.

"I've done well enough for myself thus far," said Glailen by way of response and defence. Again, Grathan shook his head but this time was more irritated, as though scolding a child.

"You still don't get it. I imagine my own fighting form has alluded you." The Sith Lord waited but Glailen opted to not willingly reveal his ignorance. In any case, it didn't Grathan long to make up his own mind.

"I am a master of Makashi; a style made for dueling. To put it simply, there is no one worse you could have challenged to a contest of lightsabers. Your end is a foregone conclusion."

Suddenly Glailen dashed forward, lightsaber leading. Grathan easily caught it on his own, confidence and contempt wafting from him through the Force. That quickly changed as a fist connected squarely with his cheek. Grathan grunted, momentarily dazed, and unprepared for the knee Glailen drove into his gut. Another grunt was forced through that damaged throat, this one a mix of pain and outrage. The Sith Lord stumbled back, trying to regain his balance, but Glailen pursued, striking with his blade. Unfortunately, Grathan was not so stunned as to be unable to defend himself. It wasn't really expected from the apprentice, instead drawing the other man's attention to his weapon to leave a momentary opening for a thrusting kick again directed at Grathan's midsection. If not for the table behind him, Grathan likely would have fell to the floor. Glailen didn't run in, not wanting to overextend himself. He had the stamina of youth, the longer the fight went the more sluggish Grahtan's actions would become.

"You talk too much," Glailen commented.

Grathan clutched the table with one hand in a vice-like grip. The Sith's hand began to shake with the tension, which soon spread to his whole body. What Glailen had felt earlier as anger was dwarfed by what he sensed from his opponent now. It filled the room, pressing down on them, and all the while Grathan kept his soulless eyes on Glailen. Finally, Lord Grathan straightened and adopted a pose for battle. Now with both hands.

"A lesson then."

---

Vette found herself half wishing someone would come walking down the hall she was supposed to be watching. Not even someone dangerous, preferably not in fact, but anyone at all would have been better than no one. At least then she would have something to do, something to occupy herself with other than staring at an empty hallway and pretending not to care about what was happening in the room behind her. More to the point, it was really difficult to make like she wasn't immensely worried about how things would play out. How was she not supposed to be? Every time a pair of lightsabers clashed together, which was often, she was reminded that at any moment someone was going to die. Of course, it bothered her. She was barely able to hold down the concern she had for Glailen – and by extension, herself. If he died, well, Vette didn't think she would live long enough to mourn him but on the off chance that she did? She didn't want to see him die.

As she stole a look over her shoulder – she couldn't help doing that every couple of moments – Vette saw the pair of Sith still circling the table like they were trapped in its orbit. It seemed an almost ridiculous thought considering how hard they were trying to kill each other. They had been going at it without pause for just over a minute but it certainly felt longer to Vette. She couldn't imagine how they were feeling. Then again, time was probably the last thing on their minds. No, they were just thinking of how best to kill one another. But given how ferociously they were battling; how much longer could they possibly go on? At any second the fight would be over.

Vette tore her eyes from the scene and looked down the hallway. Still empty. This is what I'm talking about, who could possibly stare at nothing with everything going on right next to me? And why is it every time I look away the fighting gets louder? Vette couldn't answer either question but she could indulge her curiosity by looking again. Every glance she stole was quickly followed by a nod of approval if Glailen appeared to have the upper hand or a grimace of unease if Grathan looked to be winning. Despairingly, the latter seemed to be the case more and more often. Even to Vette's untrained eyes she could see the fight drawing inexorable towards a foregone conclusion. But still, though he looked to be losing, Glailen kept pace with his opponent.

Compared to his fight with the other acolyte on Korriban in the Sith tombs, this was a different level entirely. It was clear to Vette, though she had seen little of the battle, the Korriban fight had been a hard-hitting but basic engagement. When held against what she was witnessing right now, the difference was night and day. The movements were quicker, the strikes just as hard and the intricacies more subtle. Vette had stopped trying to follow each individual action and instead settled for a general idea of how things were going. And Glailen was one of the fighters. Had he always been capable of this level of skill or was he pushing himself to be better in the moment? Was it more accurate to say he was being forced to be better? Vette suspected it was more the latter in this case but no matter how impressive Glailen was being, it wasn't enough. He had the edge in strength as he often did but Grathan offset that with his skill. Glailen had the energy of youth but it was countered by Grathan hard earned experience. It became clear, in this match-up anyway, that the older combatant held the advantage.

Frustrated, Vette tried to keep from pacing the doorway. She didn't want to get involved in that scrap because she was pretty sure she wouldn't last long. Just as she was fairly certain Glailen didn't want her getting involved. Now whether that was for her own safety or him thinking he had something to prove, she wasn't sure. Probably a bit of both.

And to think I insisted on coming, Vette thought with a wince.

A startled grunt drew Vette's attention back to the room. Grathan was collapsed against the table as Glailen rained down powerful blows, trying to push the matter. Vette glowered at the table. It had saved Grathan from falling more than once; pretty much acting as a partner in the fight. Maybe Vette should get involved, to even the odds.

Nah, thought Vette as she looked away, the big guy is doing pretty good now.

As if to mock her, Vette quickly looked back when she heard Glailen growl in what she guessed was pain. Ice ran down Vette's spine when she saw a burned gash along the side of Glailen's left shin. He clearly favoured it but was given no reprieve as Grathan took the offensive. The pair broke their orbit of the table as Grathan struck savagely and Glailen shuffled back hastily. Suddenly his leg gave out and he dropped to a knee. Grathan tried to finish it there and Vette nearly screamed as she watched but the attack was blocked. Not only blocked though, as Glailen dropped to both knees and shoved his opponent's lightsaber away before quickly changing to lash at the Sith's exposed legs. Grathan was quick to respond by jumping back but Glailen gave him no time to breath. Using his knees as the base, he spun one way, then the next, all while propelling himself forward and continuing to aim for his opponent's legs. It was unexpected and forced Grathan on the defence for the moment.

With a start, Vette realized she hadn't checked the hall in probably too long. She quickly checked it over, unsurprised to find it empty, and snapped her attention back to the action. As she looked back, Grathan leapt backwards to avoid another lightsaber swipe and landed on top of the table. Immediately Glailen hopped to his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg, and then jumped onto the table to pursue his foe. As he landed, he blocked a hasty strike from Grathan before delivering a hammering punch to the lord's protected jaw. The blow staggered the dark lord but not enough to end the fight as he quickly recovered and fought on. The table that had looked obnoxiously large earlier no longer appeared so with two men battling to the death on it.

The noise of a door opening painfully drew Vette's attention to the hallway. She searched for the source and found a protocol droid had exited a room further down. As it turned to walk in the direction away from her, Vette breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the fight. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched Glailen head snap to the side as Grathan with a backhand that sounded as loud as their lightsabers connecting. That wasn't the worst of it, however, as Glailen lost his footing but before he could fall, Grathan appeared to push at him with his free hand. Glailen no longer simply fell but appeared to be thrown to the floor and hit hard, the air rushing from his lungs. He tried to struggle to his knees but Grathan leaped from his perch, lightsaber leading. At the last second, Glailen rolled backwards, narrowly avoiding the blade that stabbed into the spot he had been an instant earlier.

Before Glailen could get up this time, he was assaulted by lightning that flowed from Grathan's extended fingertips. Vette stared wide-eyed and horrified at the sight as Glailen writhed on the floor. His screams drowning out all sound save a barely audible, sadistic filter laugh. After a few seconds the lightning died away leaving a barely moving Glailen and Grathan who took one step closer and then another. Vette stood frozen as reality began to set in.

Grathan took another step closer and raised his lightsaber for the final blow.

"I'll be sure to send your head back to your master!"

Vette watched the lightsaber make its descent. Then she realized she was lifting her blasters. They were aimed at the Sith Lord and there was no time left. She fired both at the same time.

One bolt went high, past Grathan's head.

The other struck his right shoulder.

Grathan gasped from the pain and folded up protectively around the wound. It took a moment to sink in but then Vette found herself grinning. She just shot a Sith. Then that Sith looked at her and everything fled from the twi'lek, save fear. Those inhuman red optics held Vette in place. She couldn't see the eyes behind them but she could feel their rage. Feel the rage of a Sith Lord directed at her. He raised his hand towards her and curled the fingers as though grasping something. An invisible force began to close around Vette's throat. Not simply cutting off her air but seeking to crush her throat entirely.

Vette dropped her blaster as her hands moved helplessly to her neck. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, even as Grathan's hand continued to close into a fist. This was it. Vette knew this was when she would die.

Vette couldn't hear anything over the pounding of blood in her ears but she saw a ray of red light appear where there hadn't been one. An instant later and it slashed through Grathan's outstretched hand. The Sith howled with agony even as relief flooded Vette as she could breath again. Before Vette could even register her own relief, however, Glailen spun and his lightsaber swept through Grathan's neck. The Lord of House Grathan fell; his head finding its own path. Though she was sucking in air desperately and massaging her throat, Vette still found it in her to give a chuckle. They were alive. Me and my pal, the Sith, we got through another one! After picking up her blasters, Vette straightened and took a step towards Glailen.

"That was a close one! Thanks for the he–" Vette's words died in her throat as Glailen whipped around to face her. He didn't look happy. He looked angry. The fury he directed at her was a physical depiction of what Vette had felt from Grathan and for an instant she wondered if she needed to use her blasters again.

Then it was gone.

Vette blinked, confused, but certain she hadn't imagined it. One second Glailen looked to be staring death at her and the next nothing. Just a picture of stoicism. Kneeling down, Glailen took out a kolto patch and placed it on his wound before wrapping a thin strip of bandaging around it. He looked at her again.

"We're done here."

"Yeah," replied Vette uncertainly. She watched as Glailen collected Grathan's head – proof of success – and hesitate a moment before retrieving his fallen foe's lightsaber as well. Once it was on his belt next to his own weapon, Glailen broke into motion, storming out of the room. Somewhat reluctantly, Vette soon followed.

Glad to be done here.

---

Glailen had expected carrying Grathan's head under his arm to be surreal but he hardly gave it a thought. Maybe that was because he kept his mind on the only sound around him, which was the sound of his footsteps. Or rather, he focused on his footsteps to keep his mind off other things. He was equally aware of Vette's footsteps and sensed how uncertainly she followed in his wake. For a moment he lost control and he regretted it. This was not the time to be distracted by troubled thoughts, however, and so Glailen resolutely pushed them away. It was a short walk back to the surviving Grathan's, especially given the pace Glailen set.

When Glailen tried the controls for the door, it opened readily, admitting the victors of the day. Glailen strode in, finding Cellvanta and Beelzlit in almost identical positions to where they were when he first encountered them. As the Lady Grathan turned to face him, Glailen tossed her husband's severed head across the room. It bounced and rolled to a stop at her feet. Cellvanta didn't spare the macabre object a single glance, keeping her eyes on her co-conspirator. Glailen met her stare unflinchingly.

"Don't make me regret this."

Without waiting for a response, Glailen turned and left the room as abruptly as he had arrived. As pair retraced their steps, Glailen was glad and relieved to find that no one had apparently taken notice of their actions. Maybe if they moved fast enough then they could leave the compound entirely before the alarm was raised. That was Glailen's hope but he found it hard to hold on to as he exited the lift to be greeted by a loud automated voice.

"Intruders in the compound: security proceed to section 30. Repeat," The voice continued its announcement, effectively becoming constant background noise. Alarm rose quickly in Vette and from Glailen as well as he unhooked his lightsaber, though refrained from activating it just yet.

"They're finally on to us," commented Vette, trying to keep the tension from being too obvious in her voice. Glailen didn't respond, choosing instead to glower; not at Vette but at the situation they were in. Why did things have to get complicated.

Cautiously the pair continued to the front entrance. If they had been found out then it shouldn't be long before they had to start fighting their way out but so far no one was getting in their way. At the door itself, Glailen slowed their pace to crawl, expecting to find several heavily armed squads waiting just outside for them to try and make an escape. He reached out with the Force, searching for threats, yet there was nothing. As they reached the door they looked around and sure enough there was no one to greet them. In fact, it didn't look like Glailen's work from earlier had been disturbed. Glailen reached out again, concentrating on searching further with the Force. He could feel others but not close and not moving towards them. Instead…

"They're going somewhere else," he declared suddenly.

"Why?" asked Vette in disbelief. Glailen thought that over for a moment.

"I think it's a parting gift from Cellvanta. Let's not waste it."

Taking his own advice, Glailen hurried past the fallen guards for the relative safety of shadows. It took a moment for Vette to accept they had a chance of escaping unharmed but she soon joined the Sith in the dark. Again, they worked to retrace their route but felt confident enough to shorten their path at times, made easier by guards leaving their posts. Not all of the guards had run off to find the intruders, however, to which Glailen surmised only the non-essential postings were permitted to answer the call. Even now the announcement continued to play, helping to drawn out any sound the sneaking pair made as they moved.

Unfortunately, they couldn't simply leave, not yet. Glailen didn't like it but he had agreed to return to Ba'al after he was done for a debriefing. Perhaps Baras would have secondary directions to provide. Whatever the case, Glailen and Vette soon found themselves sneaking into the building they left Ba'al in. There were guards at the front entrance but the back remained clear for use. Inside, a couple of astromechs were at work but they were easy to avoid allowing the pair to reach their contact undetected. When they entered Ba'al's room, the Sith apprentice looked up quickly from his desk. The scorn that flowed through the Force was immediate and succeeded in irritating Glailen if that was the intent. Glailen kept his features neutral though, he had completed his mission and would soon be away from this place. Hopefully to never interact with the other man ever again.

"You're back and the compound has been put on high alert. I take it the boy is dead?"

"You can contact Darth Baras and let him know the mission was successful." Ba'al got up from his seat and walked around to stand across from Glailen. Amusement mingled with the ever-present scorn, confusing Glailen.

"I will contact Baras and I'll inform him that you were unable to see the mission to its conclusion, perishing in the attempt." Now it was Vette who was confused but Glailen had moved on to a barely restrained outrage. His hands squeezing painfully into fists. Ba'al noticed the effect his words were having but showed no concern. To the contrary, he appeared and sounded quite pleased as he continued.

"Luckily, I was able to take advantage of the confusion and succeed where you failed, without exposing my cover. Baras will welcome the news and recognize me as his most capable apprentice as he always should have."

"I'm warning you," Glailen spoke in a low, dangerous tone, "do not try me Dri'kill."

"I'm pretty confident I could deal with you on my own but a smart man leaves nothing to chance," with a predatory grin, Ba'al hit a couple of buttons on his wrist communicator, "and I am a very smart man."

Before Glailen could wonder what Ba'al meant, the other Sith ignited his lightsaber and made as though to strike. Instantly, Glailen's lightsaber was in his hands and he was ready to receive and attack. Despite Ba'al's confidence, Glailen had his share as well. He had held his own against Grathan and Glailen very much doubted his rival apprentice approached the same power. Yet Ba'al didn't attack as he looked ready to do and Glailen found he didn't want to make the first move.

Suddenly a warning flashed through the Force. A second later and Glailen spun around to the sound of the door opening behind him. He watched as four guards piled into the room, positioning themselves defensively at the door. Each aimed a blaster at the trapped pair of Glailen and Vette.

"The assassins are here! Don't let them get away – kill them!"

Fear ripped through Glailen. Could he survive this trap? Could he protect Vette? He didn't have the answer. Vette seemed to, however, as she made the first move. Drawing her blasters, Vette dived to the side, firing a few rounds at the guards caught in the open. One bolt struck a guard in the chest, killing him, while the others dropped low to avoid a similar fate. As Vette hit the ground she rolled along and then leapt again to reach her destination. A computer terminal, even a large one, sticking out of the wall wasn't the best cover but given the circumstances it would have to do.

Glailen had no time to worry about how Vette was doing as he soon had enough to occupy himself. Ba'al wasted no time in launching an attack, trying to put an end to the fight before it had even begun. He would find himself disappointed as Glailen met his strikes blow for blow and with not ease but less difficulty than expected. Perhaps the duel with Grathan was already bearing fruit as, compared to the Sith Lord, Ba'al's movements seemed easy to read. It wasn't even that the other apprentice was poorly trained; already in their short exchange, Glailen could see he had considerable skill. He just wasn't equal to Glailen's previous opponent. That didn't mean Glailen could take the fight lightly, however, as Ba'al showed by being able to defend as well as attack. Furthermore, Ba'al wasn't alone. To prove the point, a pair of guards began shooting at Glailen's back.

Quickly, Glailen pushed Ba'al back and spun to defend against the blaster bolts flying at him. He parried a couple of bolts before sidestepping enough to put the other Sith in danger of being hit without being so far that the risk became negligible. It worked as Ba'al, about to strike Glailen from behind, was forced to begin deflecting blaster shot as well.

"Idiots, I'm in the line of fire! Focus on the twi'lek first!" The guards reacted immediately, taking aim at Vette and pinning her behind the terminal with constant fire. It meant Glailen didn't have to worry about getting shot for the time being but it also meant Vette had a much harder time of it.

There was no way for Vette to fire back without taking a hit. All she could do was make herself as small as possible and wait for the guards to maneuver for a better line of sight. Something they were already doing as they began moving along the wall in the opposite direction, keeping their distance while giving them a better angle. Alone, Vette was doomed. Of course, she was not alone and Glailen was determined to not let her down.

As the Sith's clashed together, their lightsabers hissing in a battle for dominance, Glailen began to gather the Force. When he felt his hold was as good as it would get, he shoved Ba'al back with brute strength. The other apprentice stumbled back but righted himself quickly, intent on pressing the attack. The brief moment he had was all Glailen needed, however, as he reached out a hand and lifted the table behind Ba'al. As Glailen pulled his hand back, the table, now a foot above the ground, flew towards the back of Ba'al. With quick reflexes, the Sith apprentice whipped around and sliced his blade through the table. It split in two vertically and passed harmlessly by Ba'al. His opponent's actions didn't bother Glailen; it was, in fact, what he had hoped would happen. Now the two halves flew towards Glailen and then past him to soon crash into the guards behind him. Two of the guards were struck and fell back against the wall, stunned. It was enough to distract the third guard for a moment. That moment was all Vette needed to react and a couple of blaster bolts ensured there was one less combatant to deal with.

Now it was Vette who was able to keep the remaining guards pinned for a time. It was a good thing as Glailen found his attention once more fully occupied by Ba'al. Blow after blow came at Glailen but he kept up his defence. He was near exhausted after everything he had gone through but he held on. Whatever Ba'al attempted, Glailen was there to meet him because he refused to fall. After surviving everything else put in his path to reach this point, he was not about to let a jealous, backstabbing, apprentice bring his story to and end.

Rage filled Glailen and he didn't hold it back, he didn't want to and so it was unleashed. Molten heat flooded his limbs as he let out a roared and seized the initiative. Ba'al was thrown off-balance by Glailen's sudden aggression and it was all he could do to protect himself as their lightsabers wove a deadly web about them. The scarred apprentice was angry as well and he used that anger but it wasn't enough. Ba'al wanted to win and worked for it but fear was beginning to seep through him. Fear was the catalyst for anger but only if the bearer was strong enough to use the fear correctly. It was becoming difficult for Ba'al to focus. He was losing and losing to someone he couldn't consider his equal, let alone his better. Glailen didn't care.

Catching a thrust from the side, Glailen spun closer to his opponent and as he did, he smashed his elbow into Ba'al's nose. The apprentice staggered but Glailen wasn't done, spinning again and delivering a knee strike to the gut. Finally, he finished with a quick Force blast that sent Ba'al flying to collide with a terminal at the back of the room. Before Ba'al had even settled on the floor, Glailen was turning to find someone else to attack. He was greeted with the sight of Vette checking over her handiwork; she had already dealt with the remaining guards. She caught his look and gave a relieved chuckle.

"Thanks for the assist," said Vette, offering a two-finger salute. Glailen nodded acknowledgement before turning his eyes on his beaten foe. Ba'al wasn't even trying to get up, deciding instead to remain seated against the computer. He did, however, meet Glailen's gaze as the victor of their fight walked up to him.

"Don't expect me to beg. Go ahead and kill me."

Glailen wanted to kill the man at his feet. He wanted to but he didn't think he would. It was crazy to let Ba'al live now but left a bad taste in Glailen's mouth. He certainly gave it a lot of thought but, no…he wasn't ready for more weight to carry. After a few seconds, Glailen determined Dri'kill Ba'al's work was not done.

"No," growled Glailen as he took hold of Ba'al's armour and pulled him closer, "you don't get off that easy. You will live, you continue to serve our master and you will continue to serve the Empire." Ba'al was shocked and understandably so. His wide, uncomprehending eyes searched Glailen's for some clue as to what he was thinking. Glailen released his grip and let the other man drop before he could find anything. Turning his back on the apprentice, Glailen proceeded to the door.

"Let go of your pride and take advantage of this gift," he called over his shoulder before leaving. There was a chance Ba'al would try a surprise attack at Glailen's back but nothing came. Just as Glailen knew it wouldn't. For today at least, Dri'kill Ba'al was utterly beaten. Yet, there was no time to fully appreciate that fact before Vette spoke up.

"I'm surprised every time you let someone live. Why leave him breathing when this galaxy is quite possibly not big enough for both of your egos."

"I gave it some thought."

"And you decided it was better to let him live." Vette spoke like she was stating a fact – which, she was – but with a hint of incredulity that encouraged further explanation. After looking around to make sure the immediate area was clear, Glailen deigned to provide his reasoning.

"He's been with Baras for over a year and relegated to being a hidden agent for most of it and when he finally achieves his goal, he's not even allowed to see it through to the end. No, that honour falls to me, Baras' newest apprentice and a new apprentice in general. How would I feel in that situation? Betrayed, of course, and so he must as well. It's not surprising he would make a move to regain Baras' notice and hopefully finally move on to more important missions." Glailen paused, allowing everything he said to soak in. Vette also remained silent, indicating she was working through it however she could.

"I can't blame him for it," Glailen declared finally.

"And if he tries to kill you again?" Vette pressed, unconvinced.

"He'll learn my mercy is very limited."

---

When finally they exited through the hidden entrance to Grathan's lair, Vette felt hidden tension slip away. She hadn't even realized how nervous the place had made her but it was like she had been taking only half-breaths the whole time. It's not like I haven't been in ridiculously dangerous situations before. Wonder if I'll ever get used to it. While Vette couldn't give an answer to that last thought, she could answer another. A lot of tension had been left behind in the tunnel but not all; notably not the unease she now felt with Glailen. If they were going to continue then they needed to talk about what happened and it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

No matter how hard she tried, Vette couldn't get the image of Glailen's face out of her head and she needed to address it. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Her throat closed of its own bidding, refusing to let any sounds escape. Vette stood still for several moments, struggling to regain control of her own body. The instant she did, she jumped in before doubts could stop her.

"Hey, Glailen…about what happened down there, I–"

"I'm sorry, Vette," cut in Glailen and startling the twi'lek in the process. It took her a moment to realize what the Sith had said and then she was too confused to think clearly.

"Y-yeah?" she asked uncertainly as Glailen turned to face her.

"I'm sorry if I scared you or," Glailen's brow knitted in consternation, searching for words, "or anything. I wasn't mad at you – not really – I was mad at myself. Infuriated, really."

"Why?" The question hung in the air as Glailen hesitated. Finally, he seemed to deflate, losing is strength.

"Because I lost, because I should have died today and the only reason I didn't was because I had to depend on you. Without you there, I would be…" His words trailed off, leaving unsaid what didn't need to be said. Now it was Vette searching for words. She thought she understood where Glailen was coming from but at the same time he thought of things completely differently from her. Even so, she could tell he was being sincere. There was no mistaking the…vulnerability he was revealing.

"But that's what this partnership is about, right? We look out for each other," Vette spoke tentatively, trying to connect with the Sith before her without pushing the wrong button. It was crazy how much time she had spent with Glailen and all she had seen him do, yet still found herself moving with care around him. She found herself remembering earlier when Glaien commented on her being able to slice the control panel of Grathan's bunker. It was clear they both knew very little about each other.

"It's not as easy as that. I wanted to test myself and I failed," Glailen countered. His eyes took on a faraway look, though Vette noticed how his hand slid to rest on not only his lightsaber but Grathan's.

"No matter what," he continued in a tight voice, "I need to be stronger."

Despite how uncomfortable she felt, Vette knew she couldn't leave things at that. There had to be something more she could add. When in doubt, stick with the truth…I guess.

"Well, if you want my opinion, you are strong. Really strong. You just can't expect to be the strongest right away, you know?" This time, something in Vette's words seemed to reach Glailen as he stirred. He began to straighten and met her eyes. Relief swept through Vette. Was it weird that she felt relief in this situation? It didn't feel weird and that was all that mattered to Vette at the moment.

"I'm convinced you'll get there though," she finished, willing her conviction to be heard. Glailen even gave a half-hearted nod, which was a win in Vette's book.

"Maybe, but right now my apology stands."

"And I accept," quickly stated Vette, a charming grin plastered across her face. Glailen couldn't help but crack a smile of his own, if only a small one.

"I'm glad," he said before beckoning his companion over with a wave.

"Come on then, we should get back to Kaas City."

"Oh, yay, can't wait…" Despite her unamused tone, Vette joined Glailen and the pair made their slow trek back to – relatively – friendly territory.