--

- Cellblock AA-52, 'The End' - Maximum Security.....

They were out of Solitary a full two days before it happened. But Mrysti knew it was going to happen. Cornelia and Mrysti had gotten close during their two-week ordeal in the ‘hole’. The teachings continued and when the door to Cornelia’s cell opened to release her back into general population, it was with a look and a way of carrying herself that she hadn’t had in a long time. Even the guards saw a difference, as they escorted her and Mrysti back to the main cellblock.

Strange, they didn’t know how to report it. Cornelia looked in better shape coming out of the ‘hole’ than she did going in. No sign of the beating she sustained or the psychological effects of the rape at the hands of Captain Oberisk and his goons. Just a steely resolve that no one could figure out. Temper your anger, Mrysti had told her, but don’t bury it. Cornelia burned with it. Something new and hidden, that only the slight smile on her face betrayed. A permanent smile, like Cornelia knew something the rest of them did not. It was a resolute assurance. Something she hadn’t felt since the earliest days of the Academy.

Pledging herself to Mrysti in that first few hours, the ‘Hammer of the Empire’ went to work right away. Though the wall separated them, it was as if the two of them were in the same room together. Mrysti and Cornelia’s minds linked as they shared each other’s secrets. Mrysti showing Cornelia how to heal herself quicker with the Darkness she possessed. And Cornelia sharing everything she knew she learned during her time at the prison. Master and Apprentice, one and the same.

The Force and the Unity truly worked in mysterious ways. Mrysti, still Mirialan at heart, was convinced this was divine providence. That the Unity had brought Cornelia to her. No two people in the galaxy who were so similar in their backgrounds, had sustained the same kind of pain and had been placed in the prison by the same person could be mere coincidence. This, was the work of the Force. In time, Mrysti told herself she would consult her ancestors and find out first hand if Cornelia had indeed been sent to her. But for now, it was enough that Cornelia was hers.

For the first time, Mrysti was hopeful in a new apprentice. There had been several. The twins. Dismal failures. She had to kill them. Then there was Mize. Utter disappointment. He wasn’t dead, but he should be. Perhaps, Mrysti would do to Cornelia what her own Master, Darth Isilith had done to her early in her tutelage. Put Cornelia and Mize in direct conflict with one another. A test for one and the end of another. Mize needed to die for what he had done to Mrysti, the audacity of thinking that HE of all people could challenge her. Cornelia was definitely much more powerful than Mize had ever been. Perhaps that was the secret to success. Choosing an apprentice that was somewhat advanced. Had suffered pain at the hands of another Sith and was ripe for harnessing into a weapon like Mrysti was when Malvox discovered her. Raw, untamed. Cornelia was definitely eager.

The shadow cast by the black armored guard made both Cornelia and Mrysti look over. It appeared the two of them were playing Sabbac on her bed, but the two of them were doing much more than that. Reading the cards the other held and at the same time reaching out between the two of them to stoke the fires of their rage. Planning their next move. Mrysti was teaching Cornelia to shed her fear of Death. It had no hold over Mrysti, it was why she did not fear even the suppressor which had been placed back around both their necks.

Gesturing with the rifle he cradled, the Guard’s helmeted gaze drifted toward Mrysti. She pointed at herself. the guard’s transmitter chirped sharply. Slowly, she rose from the bed, placing a hand on Cornelia’s head as she did so. Bowing slightly at the grasp, Cornelia closed her eyes. Without saying it, Cornelia acknowledged her Master; as Mrysti moved to the door and out into the main breezeway.

Moving out ahead of both guards, every eye in the quad watched the trio leave. Both guards had weapons at the ready as they marched out toward the exit and left with a swoosh of opening and closing exit way portals. They all knew what happened two weeks prior. It was all any of the other inmates in Cellblock AA-52 could talk about. Mrysti, who had stood up to the guards and tried to defend Cornelia. Some thought it brave, most thought it stupid. One thing was unmistakable, Mrysti was most definitely in charge of the block after that singular act. And it was why none of them were surprised when she was taken away. Least of all Mrysti, who knew someone was going to come calling on that singular act.

--

Cornelia walked out a moment after the guards led her Master away. Watching the group move with a slight smile on her face. The Warden, Cornelia informed her new Master about him. How he treated them all, his standoffishness toward the inmates and the regular visits he paid to Cornelia. Though he would never lower himself to step a foot inside a maximum security quad. Cornelia was always led to one of the many hiding places the Warden kept. One of his favorites being the infirmary. So many tools and apparatuses to use. And he tried to use them all on Cornelia.

Looking over, she saw the ‘Mandalorian’ looking her way. He quickly looked back down and grimaced. A silent curse to himself that he been caught looking in the first place. Cornelia’s smile broadened slightly as she pushed off the cell door frame and made her way toward him.

“I thought we agreed…” The Mandalorian spoke solemnly without looking up. She knew his name, one of the few people on the block who did. Many years before, the two of them had a ‘thing’. But the time for that was long past. Looking at him, Cornelia sat and turned slightly away. Placing her hand against her mouth and elbow on the table to appear as if she wasn’t paying him any attention and to hide her lips as she spoke. But they both knew she was. No one was fooled. It was a small quad, people talked. “…that you and I were not supposed to speak openly. Notes only.”

They had a secret code. Things scrawled on the steamy walls of the shower facility. One would write, the other would read. The latter wiping away the residue as they performed their hygiene ritual. There were other secret codes and places. It was surprising how much information could be conveyed in a word scribbled in the breath of another. It helped that the two of them had been intimate and close enough they knew what those one words meant.

“Things change, Canton.” Cornelia turned her head slightly back toward him, her eyes tightening with glee as she used his name. “Things HAVE changed. I know you’ve seen it.” Cornelia smiled under the hand which covered her mouth. “And I know what you did.”

Finally looking at her, he was about to turn back toward the steamy cup of Caf which was placed exactly center of his body and directly between his elbows. Precision was his key and mantra. But the tightness of her eyes, the gleam that seemed to sparkle as she spoke. It gave him pause. Something had changed. Not just in the quad with the arrival of the primary Sith in Mrysti Alpha, but something in Cornelia. A glimmer that Canton hadn’t seen in a long, long time. He turned away.

“You’re takin’ a big risk, tying your replusor to that one.” Canton inclined his eyes toward the distant exit. The portal the guards led Mrysti though a few moments before. Completely ignoring the accusation Cornelia threw. That she knew what he did. It was one of the things he loved about her. Cornelia’s instant perception. And it was HER that cut things off after she fell in that deep dark hole. The rapes got more frequent. He became powerless. And blamed himself. Always one to enforce the ‘keeping your head down’ doctrine. Both of them knew there was very little they could do about it, but the Mandalorian in him would not let it lie. The real crux of the break-up, Cornelia sparing him from sacrificing himself to stop something that could not be stopped. Canton would have died and the ‘visits’ would continue regardless. She dumped him, to save him. He never truly understood why she did it, only the stain to his honor and his manhood remained. That she would not allow him to prove himself or his love for her. In his mind, he had to convince himself that she wanted it, had somehow encouraged it. Cornelia knew he would, she knew him better than any. It was the only thing that kept him alive, a small sacrifice to pay for someone you cared for.

Turning more toward him, they sat evenly; side by side. Cornelia still had the elbow on the table, her hand under her chin and over her mouth as she looked down at the table. But the feeling, the glee within her remained. That something had truly changed was palpable. Canton scrunched his brow and turned his head slightly toward her. Uncharacteristic, showing himself that way not only to her, but to the others.

“I know you did.” Cornelia finally said. She dropped the hand, a brilliant smile over her face as she looked at him warmly. “The celldoor popping open, letting my Mast—I mean, Mrysti out. She thinks it was something on the guard's armor, but I know better.”

Nothing much got past Canton. Cornelia nearly called the new Sith ‘Master’. He heard it many times before in his dealings with them. Sith called each other by titles, many different titles. But that one was reserved and spoken with a special reverence by those who fell under another’s sway. Also, the way Cornelia said her name. It sounded false. Like Cornelia was almost ashamed to say it. Apprentices didn’t call their betters by their first name. Again, a title of some sort was always involved. For the moment, he let it pass. She obviously didn’t want him to know what was truly going on between herself and the rather large Mirialan. All of his earlier summations. The time the two women were spending together, the way they carried themselves out in public. Lots of rumors flew about a sexual connotation. Now, Canton knew it for what it was. Cornelia had found herself a new master.

“Does she know?” Canton asked the question as he raised the metallic cup of steaming liquid to his lips. There were lots of sides to the question. Evident by the way Cornelia raised an eyebrow. Did Mrysti know about the past the two shared? Did she know it was Canton who opened the celldoor from across the quad? Did she know he was a Mandalorian, a tech expert that could make something out of nothing?

“No” Cornelia answered all of the questions with a simple phrase. Very quick to add, “…but I don’t know how long I can keep it from her. She’s very ‘perceptive’…”

“Which is why…” Canton got up and looked down at Cornelia with a disgusted glare. “…you talking to me openly is dangerous. You know better.” He slapped the cup back down on the table for the recovery droids. And turned to walk away. Cornelia turned to watch him leave.

“I miss you…” She said suddenly. The Mandalorian stopped in his tracks, hesitated at the words. But then kept on walking.

--

These were parts of the Imperial Prison that only administration and very few selected prisoners got to see. The skyway opened up to a clear view of the far side of the asteroid. From inside the large clear tunnel, Mrysti could see the construction droids busy mining or building something on the surface. Lights flickered here and there, torches and laser light. Melding metal and stone as one. In the distance a shining gas giant, with a dwarf sun that crested over its terminator. Radiating light across the several Imperator Class Star Destroyers that drifted in the distance. Ships that looked much larger than they appeared due to the closeness of them to the prison.

This was a distant garrison. But a working one. The gas giant, location of the dwarf sun and the symmetry of the stars told her nothing about her actual location. It was still a mystery. She slowed her walk to try and figure it out. Faking an adjustment to the shackles that had been applied to her in the lift. Feeling secure, the guards now walked in front, but turned as she slowed. Before they could admonish her for slowing down, Mrysti sped up. Still no clue as to what system she was in or where the prison asteroid drifted. Even the ships gave no details. Standard looking Imperial Class starships.

Reaching the end of the skyway, the trio stopped. A guard reaching out to punch in a code and step back as the massive airlock door opened into a dimly lit, red hued corridor. It smelled fresh and nice. More like the inside of the executive area or officers’ deck of a starship. Mrysti recognized that smell and it represented a clear shift from where she was to where she was being taken. Almost like walking into an entirely different world.

They continued down the corridor which ended next to a series of doors, one of which was larger and clearly marked with the word: Warden. The guards turned and placed their back against the door, opening it first before turning to poke Mrysti inside and take their positions. She feigned a stumble. The vibrostaves they carried doing very little to budge the massive behemoth of Mirialan they were escorting. Entering the room, a familiar voice intoned evenly as the lights brightened to show the interior of a foyer office, with another door to the front.

Mrysti took a moment to look around. The office had the same fresh, new smell. Executive smell. Shelves with glowing holo-records lined the far wall. And though it was hardly necessary due to the presence of the AI, a circular desk flanked the corner near the door, taking up nearly half the room's space. Space for a humanoid receptionist if the Warden so chose. On the other side, holo-paintings of distant worlds called to visitors. Records of places perhaps the Warden had gone or wanted to go. Very good reproductions of original works, but still only copies. Everything had a feeling of wanting to look professional and high-class. But it, like the paintings, were all fakes. Everything about the foyer office screamed ruse. Meant to set someone at ease, only heightening the tension for anyone visiting.

The AI chimed evenly. The door on the far side spiraled and slid open parting in the center.

Smirking slightly, Mrysti walked forward. The door spiraling and sliding closed behind her.

“AH!!” A sharp voice, filled with humor chided as Mrysti walked in. “There she is!!! The woman of the hour, the one that has filled the halls of this prison with absent talk. Come, come….let me have a look at you.”

Sitting when she came in, The Warden stood after speaking. He wasn’t a small man by any means. Wearing the colored tunic of administration, complete with the rank pip of ‘Governor’. The Warden was more than a full head and a half shorter than Mrysti, but squat and broad with a politicians glare about him. Once again, fakery screamed at Mrysti. Hidden behind the smile he beamed her direction was nothing but lies. She didn’t need the Force to tell her that much about the man.

During their time, Cornelia had already informed Mrysti about ‘The Warden’. She was more than armed to deal with one such as he. It explained much about the feeling she had looking at his smile. Knowing he was a sadist, that he relished in inflicting pain and anguish on man and woman alike. But only Force Users. Jealous that people he had under his control had so much power. The need to make himself feel powerful around those he once kissed the ground in front of was written all over him. Cornelia also went into great detail about the things he had done to her personally. He was particularly fond of Cornelia. It was more than just her innocent looking beauty. Her lithe frame, that contained so much raw power. Or that she was once a Lord of the Sith who commanded those, the likes of which he came from.

The Warden liked to kriff. Helpless prisoners who had the capacity to kill him with the snap of a finger if he took his hand off the button which held them all at bay. In some ways he was much worse than the Captain, who performed his duty because he was ordered to and relished in the accomplishment of it. The Warden did it because he could.

Mrysti stood at the foot of the desk after being summoned forward. Unlike other prisoners, who followed the rule of not looking at their captors; Mrysti met his eyes and narrowed her own as she glared at him. That in itself took The Warden aback, she could see him stammer once he looked at her in the light and saw her looking back. Carefully he turned around to appear busy, but more to break the deathly glare she was giving him.

“I thought we should finally meet, you and I….” The Warden began, rather cordially. Not like a captor talking to one under his control. More like a politician. “…come to an understanding of sorts.” The Warden lost the smile as he turned back to face his better. “You realize, you will never leave this place. It only makes sense that we come to some sort of agreement, you and I. We will be here together for the foreseeable future. It stands to reason we should ‘accommodate’ one another.” He forced a smile at his last words.

It was surprising to Mrysti that in trying to dance around words, he freely admitted that he was going nowhere. Though Mrysti couldn’t place where they were on her walk to the Warden’s office, she surmised that it was a place the Empire sent those they wanted out of sight and out of mind. And not just the prisoners. The Warden had done something that granted him the ‘honor’ of being the administrator of that prison. A wicked grin started to crease across Mrysti’s scarred visage.

“Accommodate…interesting choice of words, ‘Governor’.” Mrysti glanced at his rank pip before glaring back deep into his eyes. Her voice, not what he expected. Very regal, formal Imperial. A commanding voice that matched the reputation he had only read about. “Unless you are here to offer me something in return for your life. We have very little to speak about.” Pointed and to the heart of the matter. The Warden’s jaw dropped slightly. He leaned forward on the desk, placing his hands down.

“You…offering me, my own life?” Faking a laugh, he looked down on purpose. Mrysti wasn’t joking. Gritting his teeth he lost the smile and the politician’s demeanor. “What happened to you and that other one was regrettable. But necessary to prove a point. YOU are not in control here. I am. And with the snap of fingers, I could have your life taken in—”

“Then you would have already.” Mrysti interjected. “You summoned me here to make a deal. To try and beg my forgiveness in an offhanded way and dissuade me from what you know is coming.” Canting his head at her words, Mrysti leaned in toward him. The rattling chains causing the AI to issue a warning. “YOU are not in control here. And the one giving you orders from the other side of the galaxy has little regard for you or me. He is going to use you against me, eventually when he finds his backbone, he will order you to kill me. Then, you will have to make a decision. I regret, that you are caught in the middle of an ongoing feud between myself and…Darth Vowrawn.” The use of his name caused all color to drain from the Warden as he looked up sharply. He couldn’t ask himself how Mrysti knew. How could she not know? Mrysti narrowed her eyes. “As for the prison, I have already established myself in that block. Send anymore of your goons in there…to include the Captain and you will see how far my reach truly is.”

“How dare you!!” The Warden spit as he stammered. “This is MY facility, I will not have a washed up former ANYTHING tell me how things will be. You will—” He stopped himself, falling back into his politicians demeanor. “I mean…I desire your cooperation. Perhaps, when that time comes. When he who has yet to find his backbone does finally contact me, you and I can come to a new arrangement. You need not die, Darth Retuvisa. There are things that can be done, if you ‘allow’ it to happen.”

“Ah…” Mrysti laughed. “…the status quo. Allow you to continue operating as you’ve done. Allow you to continue raping and brutalizing anyone you see fit. Give you Cornelia…” Mrysti nearly said ‘my apprentice’ but caught herself in time. “…give you access to even….me.” Sleepy, seductive eyes met the Warden’s gaze as Mrysti spoke syrupy toward the man. But in a flash and to show The Warden just how much power he lacked, Mrysti lifted her arms and broke the shackles that bound her. They snapped under her enormous strength like fragile ice. Though she made no move toward the governor and was quickly suppressed by the AI before she could say anything.

Falling to the floor, grimacing in pain Mrysti propped herself on all fours as the alert sounded throughout that section of the prison. Coming around his desk, the Warden smiled leaning down to look at Mrysti.

“I need your cooperation. And I will have it, either willingly…or by force—”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mrysti watched him approach allowing the pain of the suppression device to fuel her own power. Not quite as helpless as she made out, even on all fours. Once he started to speak, she reached out and grabbed his ankle pulling him down onto the floor and crawling over the top of him. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she spoke with spittal and fire. Her eyes wide as she pulled the man under her.

“I-IS TH-THIS WHAT YOU WA-WANTED…TH-THEN YOU SHALL HA-HAVE IT…”

Blacking out from the blow of two rifles. The guards by the door ran in and struck Mrysti in the back of the head. She fell on top of the struggling Warden, who screamed at the two black armored guards.

“G-Get this thing off of me….”

--

--

- Sith Citadel, Dromand Kaas….Dark Council Chambers…..

“You are playing a dangerous game, Vowrawn.”

Darth Malgus had few words for any of them. And those times he did choose to speak, it was of import. Anything which stood in the way of complete domination of the galaxy and the destruction of the Republic was worthy of speech. Vowrawn didn’t move, hands clasped behind his back. They were equals, he had no reason to acknowledge or even turn around if he didn’t wish to. The fact the two of them were alone on the far side of the Dark Council chamber made things, ‘interesting’. Vowrawn brought a hand briefly to his front and brushed the edge of his lightsaber hilt, just to make himself feel better. If it came to that he knew he didn’t stand a chance.

The Sith Pureblood knew what Malgus was referring to. Vowrawn had received the reports of his ‘prize’ and her activities. Was Malgus regretting staying neutral in the entire affair? Perhaps second guessing his decision to stay out of Vowrawn’s quest for revenge upon Darth Retuvisa. No formal ‘Kaggath’ was ever declared between himself or Mrysti. Vowrawn had done what he always did. He used the system to his advantage. Scheming and twisting the system to have her captured and sent away under the cover of darkness. All of the charges trumped up. Mrysti, by now, had no doubt realized whom it was who sent her to the remote prison. How Malgus found about the communications was not surprising. Malgus had his spies just like Vowrawn did. And Malgus, no doubt, had listened in on his conversations with the Warden. Turning slightly, Vowrawn smiled from the side of his mouth.

“It’s being taken care of. If you’re worried that your part in all of this will be revealed to her, don’t. I would never implicate you in any—”

“Save your platitudes for your acolytes and apprentices Vowrawn. I am neither worried, nor afraid. There is no implication on my part. I merely stood aside so that you could do as you will. It is you who should be worried. Your weakness is your need for games. If you truly wanted to be rid of her, you should have killed her long ago. This continued obsession with watching her squirm will be your undoing.” Malgus stepped away, turning back before completely leaving the alcove. “Make no mistake Vowrawn, every second you allow her to live your chances of survival decrease. With each passing moment, she gets closer to you. And when she returns, which she most assuredly will…you will die. I have no fear because, I fear no one. But her power is unique. YOU, unlike me, will not survive the next encounter with her. Remember you brought this on yourself….”

“Malgus!!” Vowarwn turned angrily toward the larger Sith. Malgus stopped but did not turn to face him. Senses stretched out, Malgus could feel the anger; feel the hand on the lightsaber hilt. A slow smile crept under Malgus’ mask.

“…don’t allow your anger to get the better of you, Vowrawn. Just because you have her in a box and believe yourself in control of the situation; don’t mistake that for skill or courage. THIS situation…right here, right now is beyond you.” Malgus hand dropped deliberately to the hilt clipped to his belt.

Slowly, Vowrawn withdrew the hand from his lightsaber. Malgus still did not turn, but felt the other Sith get control of himself. Malgus was responsible for a great many crimes in Vowrawn’s opinion. Darth Serevin was a close personal friend and confidant before he betrayed the Empire and joined Malgus on the former’s quest to seize control of the Empire. That disloyalty got Serevin killed. Even at the cost of a personal friend. Serevin’s loss was a great one, but necessary for Vowrawn’s own survival. And Vowrawn always came down on the right side. Until now.

“The situation…” Vowrawn began in a controlled and measured tone. “…is under control. Your ‘concern’ for me is unfounded.”

Malgus scoffed under his mask, turning his head slightly. “Again, you misjudge. My ‘concern’ is not for you, but for the distraction that you or anything your doing could hinder our efforts to destroy the Republic.” Malgus turned fully, a feeling hitting him from Vowrawn. Thoughts of Serevin and betrayal. Thoughts of Malgus’ first coup. The larger Sith narrowed his eyes. “This was all done so you could secure the throne for yourself. You fear anyone of power capable of mounting a challenge to your rise. Even me…” Malgus leaned in slightly, Vowrawn narrowing his eyes. The Pureblood Darth started to speak, but Malgus abruptly cut him off. “Ambition, unchecked….can be a weakness. You put her away for a slight to your honor. But you have no honor. Afraid to admit the truth that you see her on that throne and yourself groveling at her feet. She sits in that prison not because of your honor, but because of your fear.” Vowrawn reached for the saber again. Malgus was faster. Igniting his in the move toward Vowrawn’s neck. The crimson crackling blade extended from Malgus’ hand a mere hair from the neck of the would-be Emperor.

“Do it, Malgus. You’ve already tried once, why not seize the power for yourself.”

Malgus stood ramrod straight and still, holding the life of the other Darth at the tip of his blade. “I…do not need the throne to accomplish what must be done.” Malgus withdrew the blade and deactivated in a flash, placing the hilt back within the darkness of his cloak. “Understand this. I will never kneel at the foot of that throne while you sit in it. And neither will Darth Retuvisa. Your doom approaches. This distraction will end, either with your death or your senses returning. And the sooner either of those happen, the sooner we will be rid of the Republic…and the Jedi.”

Withdrawing from the alcove, Malgus cape washed in his wake. Vowrawn watching him leave.

Malgus was right. As much as Vowrawn hated to admit a rival was correct in their assessment, the time had come to end all of the machinations.

It was time for Darth Retuvisa to die. Even from the other side of the galaxy she was still vexing him.

--

Imperial Prison Facility, ‘The End’….Deep in Unknown Space….

Being a government official was much different than being part of the military hierarchy. Being in between both was even worse. A Military Warden was one of the few ‘in-between’ ranks. Not entirely Military, but not quite a government official either. The Warden was reminded of this all too often by his sector commander; High Colonel Talia Rickter.

Colonel Rickter had advanced far too quickly for some to stomach in the Imperial Military and the closer to the flag pole you were, the more visible. Rumors abounded about a dangerous liaison with the Sith Overlord assigned to her command. There was even talk of a tryst with an Imperial General. There was need to hide her and her rapid advancement. Talk was cheap, but the gossip was beginning to be a distraction to those under her command. It was never a question of her competence. Talia Rickter was a very shrewd tactician. Battles won under her command were attributed to that level of expertise on the battlefield. But, discipline was paramount and when that went by the wayside, it affected efficiency.

The promotion to High Colonel was just an excuse. It took Talia off the line and placed her in a position to be sent away. To the far reaches of the galaxy it would seem. She never seemed to recover from being taken away from that which she loved more than her dalliances. Talia lived for war and the intrigue that surrounded it, loved it almost as much as she loved herself.

Relishing in one of her few indulgences; which was antagonizing the Warden, Colonel Rickter took her role seriously under no illusion as to why she had been sent there. Checking in on one of the many Imperial assets in her sector was just an excuse to 'inspect' the Warden's operation. As it turned out, the largest imperial asset; the Prison known as ‘The End’. Technically, the Warden outranked her administratively. But, it was a time of war. And in accordance with directives, Military authority superseded that of government authority. The Warden, equivalent of an Imperial Governor, was at her mercy.

Colonel Rickter knew what went on at the prison. She was under no illusions as to what kind of man the Warden was. No one who was sent to the far reaches of the galaxy to be out of sight and out of mind was clean. Both of them had skeletons. Different kinds that got them sent away, but skeletons just the same.

Once Colonel Rickter landed, she stepped off the landing ramp and made her way down to the hangar floor. Stopping to stare at the Warden who was standing at the base of the platform. A look of disdain on his face, he slowly saluted and kept his eyes focused on her, even as his body was turned to the front. Talia did not immediately return the salute. When she finally did, the Warden relaxed slightly. There was no telling what it was that brought the Sector Commander back to ‘The End’ once again.

Removing a datapad which was stuffed into the small of her back, Colonel Rickter started punching the screen with an index finger, beginning to walk before noticing that the Warden was not walking with her. She stopped and gave the man an oblivious look. The Warden slowly moved up alongside of her as Talia turned back to continue toward the hangar exit.

“Two guard deaths in as many days. Personnel loss is to be reported immediately, you waited five days…” Colonel Rickter dropped the datapad down to her side and ceased movement, glaring at the Warden. “…Why?”

Pursing his lips, the Warden let out a frustrated sigh. Though he was never prepared to explain himself to someone he thought of as his lesser, he was prepared for the eventual questions from the Colonel. Talia continued to glare, finally meeting the Warden’s eyes as he looked over.

“This is a dangerous facility, Colonel. Accidents happen.”

Talia looked back at the datapad to verify what he said. The two guards death were indeed listed as ‘accidental’. The Colonel narrowed her eyes again.

“Accidental. I see that. But your report does not explain the circumstances under which the two guards were killed. Simply that they met their end near one of the entryways. You realize…” Talia lowered the datapad again, placing the other hand on her hip. “…even the loss one Imperial Soldier is of great import to High Command.” The Warden scoffed and looked away. “What? You doubt me and the seriousness which High Command takes these losses.”

“Let’s drop the pretense Talia.” The Warden moved away from the two guards posted by the exit and over toward a far corner of the hangar. The Colonel followed him; the Warden gesturing toward the other side of the facility. “No one…and I mean no one cares what goes on out here. You like to think you are in charge of something important, but you’re just like me. Sent away, sent here to the far reaches of the galaxy because the Empire didn’t know what to do with us. You want to do something useful…” The Warden grabbed the datapad from her hand, looked at it and tossed it back to her. She caught it and continued to listen, her eyes narrowing once again at his words. “….stay out of my affairs. Those guards died doing what I told them to do. I have things going on here that you could not possibly imagine. With orders from the highest levels of the Sith Empire.” He started to walk away, having no time for the Colonel or her inquiry. But just to rub a little more salt he turned back, glancing at his guards knowingly before he did so. “And before you accuse me of being vindictive, let me assure you…this has nothing to do with you rejecting me. I was ‘disappointed’ that someone with your reputation would so offhandedly toss away my affections. Especially given where we are and the lack of options on either of our parts.”

Pausing, Talia looked back down at the datapad, shutting it off to hold it in two hands behind her back. A wicked smile crept up over her face. Once she looked up and at him, the smile actually sent a chill down the Warden’s spine.

“You refer to the communiques from Darth Vowrawn.” Completely ignoring what he said lastly, the look on the Warden’s face was priceless. His mouth dropping open slightly. Though the Warden tried to be a player, Talia had been at the table far longer than the Warden and was very adept at the game. Nothing got past her, especially official communications from the Sith Capital. It wasn’t even a matter of having spies. Though she did have them within the prison. Any official communications, even secret ones had to pass through a military frequency. The Dark Council not only controlled those frequencies in order to better control the Military, they insisted on it. “Don’t look so shocked Warden. I have been monitoring you for quite sometime. But you’ve really stepped in it this time, haven’t you? All of your old games and your ways of dealing with the Sith under your ‘care’ cannot be applied to this ONE, can they?”

“You are out of your depth, Talia.” The Warden turned away again and started to walk toward the exit.

“Warden!” He slowed and finally came to a reluctant stop. Talia moving to catch him, once she did, she gave the man a quick once over looking him up and down. “Lets DO drop the pretense, shall we?” He started to speak and Talia gestured to the two guards by the door. They raised blasters and approached until Talia raised a hand making them stop just short of joining them. Their blasters still trained on the Warden and the High Colonel. “First of all, you will address me as ‘Colonel’ or ‘High Colonel’ or your ‘Excellency’. You want to drop pretense, we can do that. This facility and everything in it, including YOU, belong to the Sith Empire. Meaning ME. As the ranking representative in this sector, all things begin and end with me. You want to play your games with the Dark Council, fine…you have your fun. But I will not tolerate disobedience. You have had your last bit with me, at my expense. You’re lucky I don’t assume command of this facility and place you in general population with those you mean to govern.”

The Colonel turned and started to walk away, the two guards spinning around to join her. She stopped suddenly, taking the datapad from around her back to look at it once again. “I see that you have a scheduled execution today. THAT will be delayed until I have a chance to look at all of the facts.”

“D-Darth Vowrawn has ordered that—” The Warden jumped and stammered, raising a hand toward Talia.

“I will assume responsibility for informing Darth Vowrawn. YOU will stand down and make preparations for me to stay until I see that this facility is put back on track. You have brought this on yourself, Warden. Perhaps if you had been more respectful, I would have seen fit to do an inspection and leave. It would seem you believe yourself above the law. I have news for you, Warden….”

“…I AM the law.”

--

--

- Cellblock AA-52, 'The End' - Maximum Security....

Cornelia sat down first. She stared at him, a slight smile on her face. One eyebrow raised, the Mandalorian looked over slightly, but continued to eat with military precision. Fast and direct. It was ingrained in him; one did not always have time to enjoy or even fully consume a meal.

After being ‘escorted’ back to her cell in the form of dragging her between the two of them. That in itself quite a humorous event. Seeing the two guards struggling to maintain their composure, hold their rifles and at the same time drag a semi-lucid, nearly seven-foot tall muscular Mirialan between the two of them made everyone laugh.

Mrysti informed Cornelia that it was ‘time’. They needed to begin final preparations. The slight to the Warden’s honor would not go unpunished. It was time to tie up loose ends, get their own crew together and make final plans to move on. Cornelia knew what that meant. It was time to leave the lovely little prison known as ‘The End’.

But there was still much that needed to be done. ‘We need him…’ Cornelia told Mrysti. There were things he could do that seemed so magical with technology, he almost seemed like a Force User with how he manipulated tech. As the conversation grew on, the plans getting more solid Cornelia had to admit partially the things she didn’t want to, not all of it but enough. Canton and Cornelia shared a past, it was he that released Mrysti on the night Cornelia was assaulted and in some measure it was Canton who helped get them released from solitary. Cornelia didn’t go into detail about the last part, it was only important that Mrysti believed her.

After Cornelia sat, Canton started to get up without a word. He had no desire to do anything next to her publicly. The Mandalorian felt a large strong hand land on his shoulder easing him back down in the seat. The first instinct was to grab it, throw the hand and the arm attached to it in a Teras Kasi ‘twist’. But after glancing at the green of the skin and the scars which lay bare on it, he scoffed and sat back down. Both women flanking him, trapping him at his own table.

“Whatever you have to say….” Canton put his tray back down and sighed softly. “…I’m not interested. What you two do, does not concern me. I keep to myself.” He glanced over toward Cornelia, not sure exactly how much she had told her new ‘Master’. “Just ask her.” He finished gruffly, picking up the fork to discard it loudly against the steel of the tray.

“Easy, easy…Mandalorian.” Mrysti said with humor and a bright smile. His head snapped toward Mrysti, looking her directly in the eye. Cornelia had obviously told Mrysti enough to know he was Mandalorian. But that betrayal quickly bled away as he followed Mrysti's eyes to the forearm tattoo that lay bare. The mythosaur, blazoned on his left forearm, which he slowly turned downward to hide. Slightly embarrassed at jumping to conclusions so fast. But he did not like Mrysti and was starting to dislike his former love, Cornelia. Prison made for strange bedfellows and even stranger allies. Thus far, The Mandalorian had kept himself out of all of it for the most part. “Cornelia says you are a man who knows how to make things. And....I wanted to thank you for your assistance a few weeks ago.”

“That was self-preservation.” Canton said quickly. “I only do, what I need to do in order to maintain the stability of the quad. What they were doing—” Canton grit his teeth and fell silent passing a disgusted look toward Cornelia. Mrysti could sense what happened and had happened many times before on his watch affected him greatly. And he was exaggerating about maintaining stability. More than likely, Mrysti represented an opportunity to exact a measure of vengeance against those who struck Cornelia, something he had been unable to accomplish. Mrysti threw off the balance of power in the prison in more ways than one.

“As you say…” Mrysti let it go, giving both of them a quick look. “…that doesn’t change the fact that we could use a man of your talents.”

“We?” he looked at Cornelia again. “So, you two are a matched set now?” Mrysti saw the Mandalorian grit his teeth again. “I don’t want no part of it. Whatever you two are scheming count me out.” He got up, snatching the tray up off the table as Mrysti spoke again; evenly, softly.

“How long before they discover you were the one who opened my cell door? How long before they come to get you in the dead of night?”

“I’ll manage.” Canton turned around still holding the tray and regarding them both. “They come calling on me in the dead of night they will not find someone so ‘willing’….” He flashed a glance at Cornelia whose face twisted in anger. It finally hit her. All the convincing Canton had done on himself. Cornelia accomplishing her work too well. Insinuating that she was a willing participant in her own assaults, pure fantasy. It kept Canton alive before, but he never voiced it until that moment. It was too much to hear it outloud.

As Cornelia stood angrily to confront him, Mrysti raised a hand toward her. Reluctantly she sat.

“Nevertheless. Eventually, they will get you. I am giving you the chance to exact a measure of vengeance against those who have affected you so…” Mrysti flashed a look at Cornelia who was seething in anger, refusing to look up at him. “…greatly.”

“You do it for me.” Cornelia looked up, her voice grave and morose. Angry that he would say what she knew he convinced himself of. But his help, much more important to their cause. “You WILL.” Cornelia stood. “If you ever loved me, even if you pretended to…you owe me that much.”

The corner of Canton’s mouth twitched as he glared looking at both of the women in turn. Cornelia pulled his card, something he never thought she would do. At least not publicly. It went against everything they agreed to. Things were indeed different in the quad, change was coming. He knew, either get on board or get left behind. And getting left behind meant perhaps death.

“I’ll think about it.” Turning sharply, Canton walked away. Cornelia sat back down and smiled to herself before looking at Mrysti, who had a perplexed look on her face. She knew Mandalorians, knew their minds and their hearts well. But this one, he was strange. And it had everything to do with the compromises he made in prison. Most of all, Cornelia.

“He’s going to do it…” Cornelia finally said. “That he would even think about doing it means yes….”

--

'The End', Private Guest Quarters of High Colonel Talia Rickter.....

The Colonel straightened her tunic and ran a hand through her hair before stepping into the holo-field. The blue hue of the field filled the small space; Talia speaking into the air causing the field to shift and begin to make a clicking sound.

“Connection…secure….Sith Citadel-delayed transmission…”

Because of the distance, live transmissions had to be pre-established. And this contact was far too busy to make time to speak to her personally. But she had spoken with him on several occasions personally before. Starting the moment, Darth Retuvisa arrived in her sector. She was surprised to get a personal transmission from someone so high ranking within the Sith inner circle, but after verifying the transmission code and its authenticity, she did her duty.

Taking the knee once the holo-transmission established; Talia waited a moment to make sure her image was being captured before looking up. But not standing up. You did not stand unless you were told to. She was well versed with how to speak to her Sith betters.

“My Lord, it is as you suspected. The Warden has received orders to have Darth Retuvisa terminated. I have delayed the execution and exerted my authority to take control of the situation. I am requesting advisement as to what our next move will be. In the meantime, I will keep the Warden and his Captain on a very short leash. No harm will come to Darth Retuvisa as long as I have oversight.”

Short and to the point, Talia lowered her head and paused. Ensuring that she was seen being submissive until the holo-timer ran out. Once the blue field died out, Talia stood and approached the communication panel, sending the encrypted transmission on her personal military frequency. A frequency only the sector commander had access to.

--

Sith Citadel, Dromand Kaas….three days later….

Watching the High Colonel bow her head in the transmission, Malgus crossed his arms and grimaced. The situation was more lethal than he thought. Vowrawn had been successfully goaded. Malgus had forced Vowrawn’s hand by calling him out and pointing out his weakness. Now, the move toward the throne for Vowrawn was in full motion. And though Malgus could not be seen making obvious moves to block him, especially after the speech he given claiming he wanted no part of it; he could move pieces of his own.

Stepping into the holo-field, Malgus placed his hands on his hips and waited until he was sure it was transmitting.

<”High Colonel Talia Rickter, I have received your transmission. You have done well in service to the Empire. Your continued efforts will ensure that we achieve victory over our enemies, even those who are within the ranks. You will continue to control the situation as you see fit; ensuring that Darth Retuvisa remains unmolested. I want her ready to make her move when she feels she is ready to, oblivious to the fact that she is being aided.

You are also not to reveal yourself until it is necessary. And at that time, you will execute the Warden, his Captain of the guard and seize control of that facility should it be required. In no way should anyone be aware that you are reporting to me. Thwart any escape attempts, but do not reveal what you know. The prisoners as well as those within our ranks must believe you are working for the Empire's best interest and not Darth Retuvisa.

We will speak in person. I am sending you frequency coordinates for the exact time and dates according to your location. Colonel Rickter, this assignment is vital to the stability of the Empire. Failure is not an option. And will be met harshly.”>