- Cellblock AA-52, Maximum Security….

“Calm yourself, Cornelia….” Mrysti said softly. “…if you persist in this, you will only succeed in convincing yourself into doing something rash. And trust me when I tell you, My Apprentice…that is exactly what they want us to do. We don’t know the circumstances pertaining to why Canton—”

“-- I do.” Cornelia’s voice was strained. Leaning on the door to Mrysti’s cell, looking out into the quad she held a cigarra loosely in one hand, the smoke wafting up over her arm. Once again, the prison communication system did its work. Canton, had killed one of Captain Oberisk’s goon squad. And not only did he kill him. What Canton did, with some kind of makeshift fist mechanism, was overkill. There was no illusion as to why he did it. The three ‘trustees’ present at the time. All of them part of the Captain’s assault squad. All of them paid regular visits to Cornelia’s cell. Placing the cigarra to her lips she sucked in gently and blew out in a nervous jet. “This is completely my fault. If I hadn’t broke it off with him…or at least told him WHY I was doing it—”

“Stop this.” Mrysti said forcefully. Getting up off the bed, she approached and turned Cornelia around to face her. “You did, what you had to do…in order to spare the man’s life. Had you told him, he would already be dead. And most likely....you as well. We survive, by doing what we must." The tendons in Mrysti's hands flexed as she squeezed her apprentice hard. "You said it yourself, your passion for one another was strong. That emotion…the residue of love, which is our most powerful emotion drives us to do things we would not ordinarily do. A source of our greatest strength, is also one of our greatest weaknesses.” Mrysti dropped her hands off Cornelia’s shoulders and stood a bit taller looking down at her. “Under the circumstances, you proved yourself in control. Manipulating the situation; channeling that passion and emotion into hatred. Enough to allow you to not only spurn him and save his life, but to also continue enduring those assaults…biding your time.” Smiling viciously, Mrysti’s nose flared slightly as her eyes got wide. “That patience is about to pay off, My Apprentice…when you and I will unleash all of that torrent on a very unsuspecting system…”

Dropping the Cigarra, Cornelia mashed it out with her barefoot and bowed her head. “Thank you, Master…you are, of course, correct....” She looked up and frowned, “I still wish to see him. If only to explain myself.”

“Unnecessary.” Mrysti said sharply as she turned away, moving back to her bed. Cornelia’s face twisted in anger.

“But Master, it’s necessary to me!” Her voice rising, Mrysti was still turned away. Cornelia couldn’t see the smile forming on Mrysti’s face, which she dropped abruptly turning back to her apprentice.

“I said…it’s unnecessary. He did not wish to join us and therefore is irrelevant to our plans.”

Cornelia looked down, her shoulders sagging. Mrysti snarled. 'So quick to give up. I must carve that out of her' Mrysti thought. “Pick yourself up, girl. Regret, guilt…these do nothing for us. Steel yourself against them.” Mrysti watched intently as Cornelia rose up and looked at the ceiling, releasing a pent-up breath sharply. She looked back down at her Master, a bit more focused and relaxed.

“As you wish, Master…” Cornelia turned to leave. Mrysti was about to chide her for failing to ask permission, but the lesson was complete. In denying Cornelia something she wished, it would not only stoke the anger inside, but also get her thinking. It would only be a matter of time before Cornelia would approach Mrysti again. This time with a proposal to see Canton if for no other reason than to see if he was with them. It would be a reason that cloaked Cornelia’s true intent. The woman was in love, she would die to try and see him. Mrysti needed Cornelia to hold on to that if only to increase her personal power.

Just as Mrysti looked back down to continue her meditations, she heard Cornelia’s voice. The smile reformed on Mrysti’s lips. Before she could ask it, Mrysti looked up. “I will consider it, My Apprentice…” Cornelia stopped mid sentence, wide eyes and looking amazed. The collar was supposed to prevent a serious use of the Force, but Mrysti seemed to see right through Cornelia. Only it had little to do with the Force and more to do with Mrysti's experience at reading and manipulating people. Especially one not as seasoned as she was in the Darkness.

“I…uh-I didn’t even get to ask it yet, Master….”

Narrowing her eyes, Mrysti have a scrutinizing gaze. It didn’t matter that Cornelia didn’t know Mrysti’s power extended far beyond what the collar was capable of preventing. It only mattered that Cornelia believed that it did. “I know what you were going to ask…and I said I would consider it.”

“Yes, Master…”

Cornelia withdrew, going back to her own cell. Hearing footsteps, Mrysti looked up reluctantly. What else had Cornelia forgotten to say? In a way, Mrysti was actually having fun with this Apprentice, as opposed to all of the others she attempted to teach. When the persons appearing at her doorway were not Cornelia, she dropped the smile and slowly rose from her bed. Looking down at them, Mrysti placed her hands on her hips and glared. This was unexpected. No one came in, much less approached her cell unless they were invited. Especially, not the prison staff.

“Inmate PS-Zero-Zero-Seven Alpha…”

“That’s right.” Mrysti folded her arms glaring down at the much smaller woman. Colonel Rickter looked back at the two guards slightly. The two withdrew, leaving the Colonel standing there alone.

“My Lord…” She began in a low voice, “…My name…is High Colonel Talia Rickter, I am the Sector Commander for this region of Imperial Space and I was wondering if you and I might have a chat….”

--

- Recreation Quad, ‘The End’….

As recreation quads went, ‘The End’s' main recreation plaza was not half bad. The view was spectacular. Not only did the rec side angle toward the gas giant, but also the looming Imperial fleet which hovered overhead. A large dome covered the portion which was carved from the asteroid's surface. Which was planted with trees and shrubs, walking paths…hutt ball and smash ball courts; as well as benches lining the paths for minimum security inmates to walk on. There were none present, Colonel Rickter had all of the general population and minimum security inmates sent back to their cellblocks so she could have the area to herself. At least as long as she was walking with Mrysti.

They spoke very little as Colonel Rickter and the guards who accompanied her escorted them both to the lift and then another part of the prison, which eventually took them to the minimum security area and the rec area. All part of the plan, no doubt the Warden was watching it all with a keen eye. Going mad as he wondered what it was Colonel Rickter was doing. But in the expanse of the Rec area, it would hard for him to eavesdrop, much less watch them the entire time.

These were parts of the prison Mrysti had never seen. Once they arrived, Colonel Rickter wordlessly looked over her shoulder again toward the guards. They withdrew quickly, standing by the entrance as Colonel Rickter stepped across the threshold and into the grass of the rec area. Mrysti smiled taking a moment to inhale deeply the scent of something living. Reaching down, she removed her shoes and took another moment to run her toes through the grass. Even if it was all artificially grown. It was refreshing after being pent up in the maximum-security wing. Colonel Rickter watched her and started to walk on her own, placing her hands behind the small of her back.

“It’s very nice isn’t it?” Talia spoke lightly. “If I had no other reason to come here, it would be just for this. The only grass and trees in my entire sector…”

Opening her eyes sharply, Mrysti looked down at the Colonel. “Why are you here exactly?” The question caught Talia off-guard. Only a moment before, The Colonel was thinking to herself how Mrysti was not quite what she seemed. More like a Jedi, as they entered the quad and she smelled the freshness of nature. Almost glowing at having the opportunity for fresh air and living plants near her. Very unlike a Sith. But the question, the way she asked. Especially the look she was being given by the very large Mirialan. That was completely what she expected.

“You certainly live up to expectation. At least in your appearance, My Lord…however, your file does not do you justice.” Talia avoided the question, turning away to continue to walk. Mrysti looked back at the guards, who were watching them both intently.

“Alright, we’ll do it your way Colonel.” Mrysti walked alongside, just as slowly. Looking away, smiling again as she let the grass run in between her toes. “If I had to guess, I would say that you are bringing me here to not only get some privacy…but to also request that I cease, whatever it is you’ve surmised I am doing to cause disruption in the cell block.”

Talia smirked, they continued to walk. “Partially right, My Lord….I am here to speak with you privately…” Talia looked back toward her guards as they got further away, gesturing toward them. “My own men, very loyal. I demand absolute loyalty from those who serve closest to me. As I’m sure you do…quite a coalition you’ve already formed.” Mrysti looked back at the guards and looked down, smiling to herself.

Using the honorific. Calling Mrysti, ‘My Lord’ when she obviously didn’t have to. The way she talked, very genuine. Though the Colonel was beating around the bush. Mentioning her own men. “I’m not often wrong, Colonel. However, on this…I calculated incorrectly. You didn’t bring me here just to speak privately or ask me to stop whatever I am doing, you brought me here to make contact.” They both stopped and narrowed eyes at one another. “But I am correct in assuming you want me to keep control over whatever is going on in the cellblock; somehow I get the feeling that I am interfering with your plans in someway…”

Talia started off at a walk again, much faster. The two continued down the path as she spoke up again. “Not my plan, My Lord…but yours. This attack by the Mandalorian, I know he has ties to the other Sith in your cellbl—”

“My Apprentice.” Mrysti said abruptly. Talia smiled.

“Very well, ‘your’ Apprentice. Darth Retuvisa…I’m not sure your fully aware that there are forces working against you that—”

“-- I know whom is working against me Colonel.” Mrysti took an imposing step toward the Colonel. “The only question is…what side are you on?”

“Yours…of course.” Talia reached up and stretched out her collar as she leaned away from the figure who loomed over her. “My Lord, I can’t tell you ‘whom’ it is that has sent me here. Even in this quad, the potential for eyes and ears is too great.” She spoke lowly and started to walk again, clasping her hands back behind her back. “What I can tell you is, I can only do what my station allows. At the moment, I have ordered a halt to your execution; which is well within the authority of the Warden to order.” The way Talia said ‘The Warden’ it made Mrysti smile.

“I take it, you are not a fan of our overseer…”

“Hardly…” Talia scoffed, “…the man is a pig. Not to mention unprofessional, undisciplined and stupid.” Mrysti looked the Colonel up and down. It was clear, Talia was a careerist. A professional Imperial Officer. Young, to be a High Colonel. Perhaps there were reasons she was sent there that had to do with that youth. Mrysti would surmise about that later, she loved learning things about people. The way the High Colonel talked about the Warden, she had very little respect for government officials who didn’t know their place; even worse, had no knowledge of how a professional military operated.

“What is it you wish me to do, Colonel?” Mrysti made no mention of what she already planned on doing. If the Colonel was indeed on her side, then she would have already surmised that Mrysti would soon be affecting an escape. Why else approach and volunteer that there were forces which sent the Colonel to aid her? It made sense, Mrysti was still on the lookout for a ruse however. That was how Darth Vowrawn operated. In due time, Mrysti decided she might reveal more if it was necessary.

“Nothing.” Talia spoke suddenly. “Everything. I need you to continue with whatever plan you’ve devised, but do so while keeping control of the others involved. The more light you shine on that cellblock, the harder it is for me to counter whatever it is the Warden is being ordered to do.” Talia started walking again, speaking over her shoulder. “My Lord…though I cannot tell you whom it is I am supporting, I will tell you that I am prepared to do ‘whatever’ it takes to get the job done.” Talia turned and gave Mrysti a serious look. “Whatever…it takes. Do you understand?”

“I think I do, Colonel…if I am reading you right. However, I cannot promise anything in regards to the others. Only myself and Cornelia.” At the moment that’s all there was, but Mrysti didn’t reveal that. “What the Mandalorian did, he did out of passion…I had nothing to do with that attack. And, I believe the one he killed, had it coming for a long time.” Mrysti’s eyes got wide as she spoke. Talia knew of Captain Oberisk and his nighttime activities.

“I can promise you, Captain Oberisk will not be visiting that cellblock for the foreseeable future. Should he or any of his goons attempt to; I will have them shot.”

“I appreciate that, Colonel…it will make it easier for me to fulfill your request. If we are doing favors for one another…” Mrysti started walking by herself, taking on a similar pose as the Colonel in clasping her hands behind her back. “…I do have a request…”

--

- Solitary Confinement, ‘The End’….

Canton was still smiling. The blood long since dried on his skin and clothes; he was looking up at the ceiling, letting his eyes adjust to the low light of the dingy hole carved from the rock he was tossed into. It was all worth it, he didn’t need to convince himself of it. He knew it in his heart and had already began reciting the names he would soon join. The list of those in his clan who had fallen before him, the rolls that he would be a part of. No doubt, the Warden and the High Colonel were planning a very public execution. Just to dissuade any who would think of killing another in the way that he did, from doing it again. His actions warranted the Death Penalty and Canton already decided, he was going to smile right up until the moment they put a blaster bolt through his brain pan.

The door to his chamber rattled and creaked as the door opened. A gruff voice ordering him to stand. Reluctantly he did so, adjusting to the light coming in from the hall outside. Someone was shoved into the room. The light surrounding the form, making it almost too difficult to see. But when he did, the light which surrounded her made her look just like the angel he always thought she was. Canton ran forward, but was pulled back by the chains which held his arms and feet to the floor. Still he strained against them, until Cornelia leapt into his arms.

The voice said again, closing the door behind them.

--

ON the outside, Colonel Talia Rickter stood watch on the hallway. The visit, highly irregular. But, ordered on her authority. She was long past giving reasons, she answered to no one. This was a request from the ‘Empire’s Hammer’ and Talia was bound to obey, even if Mrysti was a prisoner. One good act deserved another. Mrysti had given her word and even if she hadn't, Talia knew at some point Mrysti was going to get out of that place and when she did Talia would have to make a choice. Coming down on the right side in all of this was paramount. The wrong side, meant death. After seeing Mrysti and meeting her, Talia was more secure in her decision to support Darth Malgus and aid Mrysti. Who, could fight such a Sith? Who could survive direct confrontation?

Certainly not Darth Vowrawn.

And that was the light at the end of Mrysti's tunnel....

--

--

Temple of Sacrifice…during the Revanite uprising and the Return of Darth Revan....

Side by side with Republic snipers. Not a position he ever thought he would be in. They were good, not quite as good as some of the more secretive Imperial snipers that were his brethren, but good. Alzir had killed many a Republic sniper in counter operations. A fact not lost on those they were shoulder to shoulder with at the moment. Of all the integrations of units between the Republic and Imperial Forces, the snipers had the hardest time integrating with one another. Animosity and the old hatreds ran deep. It was one thing to kill an enemy you were sworn to defeat. It was another to wait on him, days, sometimes weeks just to take one fatal shot in order to end their existence. It took patience, commitment. And they were all true believers in their cause. They had to be in order to be a sniper, that kind of commitment didn’t come from training; it took faith.

‘Hold the line’, the last order given by Darth Marr as he and the rest of them entered the Temple. In the distance, they all heard it. The screams, wild and growing loudly as the enemy ran through the woods toward them. Zealots, the lot of them. True believers in Revan. The sound grew and already Alzir could see some uneasiness start to ripple through the line. They were the last line of defense after the main Infantry and Armor. The ones furthest back in order to take the shots and thin out the Revanites. No one could be allowed to get through. The fate of the galaxy depended on all of them; Republic and Imperial, doing their jobs in order to give those in the Temple the time they needed to deal with Revan.

In the distance, brush and trees started to move. The screams and yells growing louder. Almost as if the Revanites were psyching themselves up for the battle to come. Convincing themselves that they were the answer to the galaxy’s problems. An Imperial problem. The yells were intimidating, Alzir could sense some of the Soldiers, especially the Republic ones, looking at one another. And who could blame them? It was the Empire that brought all of this about. An Emperor that went off the rails and decided that not only their enemies; The Republic, should be destroyed, but everyone needed to die in order to…what? Start over? Alzir was pretty happy with how things were.

In a rush, the first trees parted and went down. Revanite walkers and ground infantry knocking down the jungle as they charged head first into the Republic and Imperial lines. They all started shooting. No one gave an order, there was no reason to. It was all or nothing and the sniper column was disciplined enough to not just take random shots. Every one of the bolts was going to count. Getting a Jedi Revanite in his sights as the man leapt up into the air, Alzir tracked him releasing a breath as he held off from breathing in while softly squeezing the trigger. The readout on his rifle sight conned green; he was already firing. Watching the Jedi fall out of the sky before he reached the front line. A smoking hole in his chest burned straight through the strange red and gold armor he wore.

Lining up another shot on a Sith Revanite this time, Alzir didn’t pause. As much as the Republic would like to accuse the Empire of choosing their targets in the heat of battle. He never did. The Revanites were the enemy, at least for now. Sucking in a breath, he let it out slowly squeezing the trigger as he did so. Another down, the smoking half of the Sith’s head the only trail of the man’s charge toward the front line.

Once the Revanite Walkers; which were upgraded and shielded versions of Republic and Imperial Walkers, broke through the front line of men and their own walkers, Alzir knew they were in trouble. Communication from inside the Temple was sketchy, they had made their way to Revan, having fought hard against the forces on the inside. But things were looking worse on the outside. A turbolaser blast aimed toward the rear line decimated the sniper column. Alzir was blown out of his perch and onto the ground. Dazed, dizzy and with blood flowing into his eyes, he stood and picked up his rifle.

Things seemed to progress in slow motion. Sabers clashed, Soldiers all; Sith, Jedi, Republic and Imperial died. Fighting to the last man. Alzir aimed his rifle into the thrall and started firing, hardly taking the time to aim. Taking a step back, he stopped himself; head still swimming. This was as far as he was going and no farther. The white light and silence of a second turbolaser blast put him down for good as he saw the light and felt the heat knocking him into oblivion.

--

The sounds of the jungle almost seemed serene after such chaos. Birds chirped, an animal in the distance squalled loudly. Normal sounds. Alzir opened his eyes looking up at the sky. Those birds flew overhead, the sounds of the jungle almost cheerfully welcoming him back to the land of the living. A hand was in his face, not his own. He blinked several times, looking at the arm and hand extended to him. A green arm, a slender wrist attached to a well-manicured hand and fingernails. It was the first thing he noticed and then blinked again once he saw what it was attached to. Moving in to block the sunlight which poked through the uncanny normal canopy of the jungle.

“Welcome back, Trooper….” The voice; beautiful and melodic. Alzir blinked again as the head of black flowing hair surrounding the beautiful angelic like green tattooed face came into focus. He couldn’t help but smile. His first thought, ‘I must be dead’. He didn’t think to ask it, or even voice it, but the angel standing above him offering her hand answered anyway in that beautiful voice. “No…you're not dead. But you might wish you were later…that arm may have to come off...” He took the hand as she lifted him with hardly no effort, thinking she must have been a Jedi. The white and red robes as well as the green saber she carried giving it away. Once she had him on his feet the Jedi slowly released his hand with a smile and moved on. Picking through the remains of the battle, looking for other survivors. He scratched his head, felt the warmth and wetness, bringing it around to see his hand full of blood. The Jedi who pulled him to his feet stopped and turned back toward him. “I stopped the bleeding…as much as my power would allow. But you must go see a med tech…” She started off again, Alzir still smiling at her as she seemed to float away.

“I’m sorry…You’re—I mean, thank you for—you are—”

“--Karolin…just, Karolin…” She smiled beautifully again, making her way further into the remains of the battle.

--

- Nar Shareef, Hutt Combined Casino-Hotel #83....

Getting up from the bed, Waylon reached for the towel at the end as he stood. Bottles rolled off the side as well as various ‘items’ used in the nights festivities. The Twi’lek dancer lying next to him rolled over and stirred as he stood up. ‘What was her name again?’ He thought moving slowly and silently not to wake her in making his way to the door. He heard the movement even before Aurore made her way to the chime, opening it before she could use the button.

“I’m not even going to ask why you’re here at…” Waylon looked at his chrono and spoke as a startled Aurore took a step back to look into the darkened room. “…zero five-thirty. Are you kriffin’ serious?!?! You said we were in a holding pattern.” He started back in, leaving the doorway open.

“I…uh….always get started early.” Aurore stepped inside cautiously and looked around. She took in a sniff of the air and immediately knew he wasn’t alone before she said anything. Stale air and drinking, revelry and sex. “I take it she’s still here.” The answer came as Aurore stepped further inside and saw the dancer still sleeping. “Of course, you’re never going to change.” Aurore laughed to herself.

“I could say the same thing about you. You obviously didn’t take anyone home from the Casino last night. Go home to your mechanical boyfriend?” Waylon was sitting, putting on his boots, but nothing else. The towel still draped and around his waist. Aurore frowned.

“You know I did.” The Zeltron was looking around trying hard not to look at Waylon. Images of the night prior, the ‘Hot Box’ still burned into her mind. Reflexively she rubbed the front of her pants, biting her lip before dropping them as he looked up.

“I take it the ‘big guy’ contacted you. Are we on?”

“Not yet.” Aurore shook the images out of her head as she got serious again. “Alzir is on something, Marstel wouldn’t say what. Said he’s sending two more our way. Some kind of ancient looking Twi’lek; not really sure what species she is…and a Devaronian…”

Waylon looked up immediately, a wicked smile crossing his face. “Female?”

Scoffing, Aurore reached down to pick his shirt up off the floor and toss it to him. “Yes…both of them. And…both of them are Jedi or something; I don’t know, the Force is involved.”

“Hmmm…” Waylon was still smiling as he looked up and then over at the sleeping Twi’lek still considering. “A Devaronian force user…that could be—”

“- Oh stop it, will you…” The Zeltron scoffed again. “…you know what they say about Devaronians…especially the females. That lack of horns has their emotions all out of wack, maybe they are mad at the galaxy for taking them….”

--

Wroonian Prime, Imperial Space….

Some cultures still adhered to the old ways. In an age of ultrahigh tech, the pinnacle of humanoid advancements; it was still the traditions that defined a culture and truly kept it grounded. Dressed in formal attire, Marstel still stuck out like a sore thumb. A large walking mass of man, dressed in enough tuxedo garb to outfit ten wedding parties. Excusing himself from the main foyer he made it through the crowd. Mourners, those who come to honor whomever was being buried that day. In a way, it was refreshing. Death was almost as important a celebration as life. And it was something the Wroonian used to display, at the end, how much they had acquired throughout their lives. The more wealth, the larger the celebration. And as celebrations went, this was a rather large one.

Making his way to the ‘tech’ side of the facility, the décor noticeably changed. Gone were the trappings of wealth. The trappings of a life which denoted whomever was being honored had lived well. Plush red carpeting gave way to utilitarian tile. Papered walls with inlaid gold filigree gave way to the cold metallic antiseptic. The sound of machinery started to fill the air as the soft sounds of music set for a memorial played gently for those there to honor the one being seen faded away. He pushed the double swinging doors open. Only employees were allowed past the very deliberate red line pained at the threshold of the doorway. Marstel wasn’t an employee, but he didn’t need to be. Some of his credits helped build that place and put Alzir into business.

Those that worked for Alzir looked up curiously at the very large Ratataki, who was making his way through the tech area. Bodies lay on a conveyor, the employees manning their stations as the bodies passed by going from one station to the other. One did hair, the other did make-up. Marstel was seeing the whole process in reverse as he made his way to the beginning of the line. Where all of it started and where he knew Alzir would be. Another set of doors, looking much more serious stood guard for the most dangerous area. Large signs gave warnings in Aurebesh. Warnings of dangerous chemicals and processes that went on behind closed doors. Things the normal citizen should never see or maybe they just didn’t want to see.

Pushing the door open, the sound of machinery; mixed with music that was very uncharacteristic for a place that everyone eventually had to visit. Death came to everyone at some point, unless you were lucky enough to have been an Alpha. Marstel had seen death, it was interesting that this culture chose to do things so archaically. The heavy rock music was only a smoke screen, allowing the technicians in the back to continue with their grim tasks. Marstel looked around, lots of blue faces working on other not so alive and prone, blue faces. He spotted Alzir, headset on. Oblivious to the outside world as he leaned down over yet another customer. Preparing the person for their journey into the next world.

“Alzir” Marstel spoke softly. The man didn’t hear him. He said the name again, only looking up once the shadow of the large man blocked out the laboratory lights which brightly lit everything in the preparation chamber. The blue skinned Wroonian turned with a start, taking the headset off and looking over and up at the figure looming behind him. Marstel wasn’t looking at Alzir anymore, but at the dead man laying in front of him. Alzir smirked and put the headset down on the tool cart, discarding the tool he had in his hand with a clatter against the other tools.

“Speeder accident” Alzir said, gesturing to the man who was sprawled out prone. This was a fitting line of work for someone who worked in the death business for most of their lives. Only Alzir was once responsible for putting people in a places like that one. Instead of preparing them for the journey afterward. Not everyone had a stomach for that kind of work, but for someone that had no conscious when it came to dealing death, Alzir was absolutely perfect. A bit of an anomaly; he took great pride in beautiful things. Things he could create. Like all Wroonians, beauty and wealth went hand and hand, but Alzir chose to turn the ugly into something worth appreciating. And there was nothing uglier than death. Attributing that new found appreciation so long ago to the angel that scooped him up off the jungle floor. Later, after he met the rest, he understood where that beauty came from and who was involved falling in with Marstel; who set him up to do something a little different.

Alzir smiled at Marstel and opened his arms about to give the large Ratataki a hug. Then noticing Marstel was wearing the tuxedo finery usually reserved for Alzir's ‘guests’, he slowly lowered his arms. No way he wanted to get the gunk and gore which covered his coveralls all over the very expensive suit Marstel was wearing.

Gesturing for Marstel to follow, the two left through a side door which led to an administrative area. Still out of the public eye. All of the things that happened in the back were out of the public eye. The facility, a perfect design to continue the illusion of life after death. A magic show, designed to make everyone who either died or came to visit the dead think that things just happened magically to allow the ones being honored to just ‘appear’ alive all of a sudden, when the time was right.

Alzir sat down behind the desk and slapped the gloves off his arms with a sling and twist. They landed in a bin near the foot of the desk, Alzir leaning back in the chair now safe to touch his own skin; placing his hands behind his head to look at his largest benefactor. “Did you get my message?” Marstel said sharply. Alzir sat up, looking around on his desk. Datapads and flimsies littered the surface. Bills, invoices, everything he needed to run his business, but no note. Marstel took out a holo-unit and held it up toward Alzir. The man smiled and raised a finger.

“Ah…the secret one.” Reaching down under the desk, Alzir pulled the holo-unit Marstel had given him a long time ago placing it on the surface of the desk among the paperwork he used for running his Memorial home. He turned it on, the blue field rezzed to life as Alzir looked past the transmission to smile at Marstel. “Yea…I got the message.” They both laughed. Reaching down, Alzir took out the bottle of ‘purple gunk’ as Marstel called it. Actually, a very fine vintage Hapian wine. Marstel’s favorite. Pouring two glasses he passed one to the big Ratataki, raising his own in a toast. “To you and yours…” The two men drank to each other, Alzir making a face at the sour tangy taste before setting the glass down. “Did you know…both of them are Jedi?!?! Kind of like…” Alzir smiled ruefully stopping the statement to begin another one, “…how is your ‘sister’ anyway?”

Marstel shook his head. He knew Alzir was talking about the smaller one, Karolin. The man had a taste for her ever since Yavin. He ignored the question about Karolin, going back to the first comment. “That ain’t true….” Marstel said softly. “....both ‘r force users. The Twi’lek lookin’ one ain’t never been trained, my folks rescued ‘er. Still tryin’ ta git her in with a Temple sumwhere…Karolin’s lookin’ into it.”

At the mere mention of Karolin, Alzir lit up. “I hear she’s gone political now. But damn…” Alzir shook his head. “Does the woman age? She looks twice as good now than the day I set eyes upon her.” Taking a sip of the wine, Alzir smacked his lips leaning back in thought. Thoughts Marstel had some idea about. Karolin was not interested. At least as far as Marstel knew, though his sister did have a flair for the exotic. “And the others…” Alzir smiled wickedly picking up the glass again to hide behind it as Marstel gave an annoyed look.

“Tell me ya didn’…” Marstel scoffed. Alzir was quick to sit up and shake his head.

“No, no….nuthing like that. One’s a Devaronian, you know how they are. Those women mate for life. You put it in one a those, you’re making a commitment.” Both men smiled at one another. “I don’t mind keeping them on the down low Marstel, but…I’ve had questions. Couple of hunters came calling…I had to…” Alzir paused and smiled again taking another sip of the wine.

“…funny thang, havin’ a Memorial facility. No questions when folks jus’ disappear….”

“Yea, funny thing that.” Setting the glass back down Alzir gave a sheepish look. “I did kriff the other one though.” Marstel frowned and shook his head. “Hey….it wasn’t me. She totally led me into it. Late one night, working. I don't think they like the Memorial business...One thing led to another…you know how it goes.” He paused and smiled. “How’s Murriel, by the way…”

“Same…” Marstel uttered. Sitting back, the chair creaked under his weight. “…partially why I’m ‘er. Got a job, two actually. First one is solo, then I need ya ta meet up with tha’ fellas on Nar Shareef.” Sitting up, Alzir placed his hands on the desk giving an eager look.

“What’s the gig?”

“Protection first…counter-work.” Marstel took a sip of the wine finishing it. It was important if Marstel was bringing the mission to Alzir personally and he knew it. Even before Marstel reached under his jacket and produced the datapad containing the details. “Need ya ta look in on my sister…” Alzir took the pad looking up suddenly a smile coming to his face, but did not cut it on still watching the big guy. “Second one, little iffy…Aurore got tha details.”

Laughing Alzir sat back, Datapad in hand. “She still kriffin’ droids…”

Grimacing, Marstel looked down. “Probably.” He said no more, no one knew why Aurore did it. It was a joke among the others. To everyone except Aurore and Marstel, who never laughed, but never tried to dissuade anyone from saying it. The big man stood, the chair groaning relief that all of the weight was suddenly off of it. Before leaving he gave a slight smile to Alzir. “Life day’s comin…gonna head ta Kashyyyk with tha fam. Ya’ll ought ta come…bring tha two new girls with ya.” Alzir knew it was all code talk. Marstel didn’t trust anyone, not even Alzir to speak openly. He took no offense.

“I’ll get them prepared for the festivities then. I’m sure they will be excited to be getting out of here and doing something.”

“Good.” Marstel winked and touched the pad to open the office door. “Let me kno’ when yur comin’…I’ll make ready for all a ya’ll…” Before he walked out, Marstel paused turning back. “This firs’ one’s a job…’member tha’. Karolin ain’t expectin’ ya. I don’ wan’ ‘er too…understan'?”

Alzir nodded. He understood perfectly.

--

--

Exercise Quad, Maximum Security, ‘The End’….

It was a sad state of affairs, having to manipulate Cornelia into using those feelings to actually arrive at the right answer. But in doing so, she was able to make Cornelia see that the answer was right in front of them both the whole time. The Force…always provided a way. It was also easy to see why the Mirialans believed so strongly in destiny and the Force; their Unity. It bound and combined everything together. The Force sent Colonel Rickter to Mrysti. And in doing so provided a way for Mrysti to not only get the answer she needed concerning the Mandalorian, it provided a way to satiate Cornelia’s blood lust and bind her more tightly to the plan because of her attachment to the Mando. The Mandalorian was now with them. Cornelia confirmed as much after she left his cell in solitary confinement.

Laying on the bench, Mrysti placed her palms on the bar and looked up above her head before lifting the weight. More weight than Cornelia could ever hope to lift without the use of the Force, yet Mrysti was doing it with her own raw strength. Before she lifted the bar from the holding mechanism, she smiled looking at Cornelia upside down scrutinizing the pose. Cornelia stood propped up on the wall behind her, watching her Master. Cigarra in hand, held loosely.

Satisfied for the moment. Mrysti didn’t need to guess what the two of them did in the cell given the five minutes Canton and Cornelia had with one another. It could be done in five minutes. Mrysti had done it in less during high stress situations. And prison was one big high stress situation. Kriffing was a stress reliever. And those two had been fighting one another, fighting the urge for so long. Canton killed a man for her. And Cornelia loved him for it.

“You look like the nexu who ate the…mouse? Is that appropriate?” Mrysti smiled viciously adjusting her hands. Cornelia smiled sheepishly, looking down. Flicking off a bit of ash from the end of her cigarra before taking another drag off of it.

“I’m….pleased…” Cornelia uttered the words with the grin still in place. Even the smoke from her cigarra couldn’t hide the smile. Grabbing the bar, Mrysti held tight and pushed upward. The bench seemed to rise up from the massive weight being momentarily lifted only to sink back down once Mrysti secured the weight above her, holding it in place a moment before lowering it slowly to her chest and then back up again just as slowly; locking her elbows out.

“We…are not….done…” Mrysti spoke between reps. Doing ten before racking the weight on the holder after completing the set. She sat up and turned around, wiping her face with the towel around her neck. “Though, we have a new problem.” Cornelia seemed to get more focused once Mrysti spoke of a problem. The glassy eyed look of thinking on the five minutes she got to spend with Canton, disappearing with the turn of subject. “I promised the Colonel that we would keep her apprised of our activities. She’s with us, but it places a damper on my plans to deal with the other members of the Captain’s squad.”

“Then don’t, Master.” Cornelia said matter of factly. Taking another drag off the cigarra, Cornelia discarded it crushing it under foot as she lifted her head to blow a jet of smoke above her. “The message has been delivered. Canton saw to that, the ‘trustees’ are on notice. No one is coming down here. We have the room we need now to plan and move without interference.” A momentary flash of anger shot through Cornelia. Mrysti saw it and narrowed her eyes before the two looked at one another again. “What’s done…is done. They will all pay for what they did to me in due time. I see that now, thanks to you….Master.”

“You are right…of course.” Mrysti looked away. Cornelia was a much more seasoned and brighter apprentice than Mrysti was used to. In the prime of being a Sith, already a Lord. She was no mere acolyte, able to advise as well as give opinions. Something Mrysti would never have allowed from a younger more inexperienced Sith. “However…” Mrysti pointed a finger as if to make an objection. Cornelia smiled viciously, she seen that look in her Master before. “…time and opportunity, Cornelia. Should either present itself, we can not allow it to pass. I gave my word, but if the opportunity to inflict more terror on our foes should present itself, we cannot allow it to simply pass us by. Besides, the more of them we deal with now and the more fear we inject into the populace, the easier it will be to sew chaos once we need it. The Force…”Mrysti laid back down taking the bar in hand again, starting another set. “…provides the way. We need only follow it when it reveals itself.”

A strange way of seeing things. The Force was a tool, a weapon to be utilized when needed. That’s what Cornelia had been taught. And though Mrysti wasn’t contradicting what the Sith taught, she was speaking at times like a Jedi. About following it and riding the flow of it to get what they wanted. Perhaps it was due to her Mirialan ancestry. They all had a strange way of worshiping the Force. It was interesting. At times, grabbing the reigns and reeling it in to shape it into the weapon they had been taught to utilize and at other times, simply letting it wash over them. There would be a point of contention; Cornelia could see it. At some point Mrysti and she would not see eye to eye on something. Conflict concerning the Force was inevitable, but for the moment Cornelia was satisfied with what her Master taught her. She was stronger for it.

“And the Colonel…” Cornelia smiled sarcastically. She already knew the answer to the question and the smile told Mrysti it was an oblivious question. Laying back down, Mrysti wrapped her fingers back around the bar and lifted it up above her. Lowering it just as slowly again as she counted to herself. Finally turning her eyes upward to see Cornelia still looking at her.

“The Colonel…” Mrysti started speaking as she strained against the massive weight. “…is a servant of the Empire.” After completing the last set, Mrysti racked the weight with a loud ‘clang’ and stood, stretching her arms out to her side. “Which means…she is OUR servant. I gave my word, but my Will is also her Law. I don’t expect any problems from her….”

--

[youtube]pilqN-Q_2Vw[/youtube]

--

Shower facility, ‘The End’….

“Just watch yourself. They are taking us out one at a time.” Those were the last words one of the other trustees uttered to the large red-skinned Twi’lek known only as ‘Muscles’. His face was sore. One of his good friends dead. The other goon wasn’t wrong. They were trying to take them out one at a time. Had it not been for his quick reaction time, the Twi’lek knew he would have ended up like Mohawk. Beaten unrecognizable. As it turned out the Twi’lek was part of the detail which had to clean up that laundry facility. And they did it mostly with sponges.

A sad state of affairs again. And it was all that large Mirialan’s fault. Her arrival heralded the end to the fun. Everyone was on edge and no one wanted to confront her openly, not even the Twi’lek, who was feared by a large majority of the prison population. He rubbed his face again, reaching out to touch the activation pad for the shower. Stepping into the water and turning his face up to it. Voices echoed from the other stalls. There were no curtains for security reasons, but one had reasonable privacy between partitions. Steam wafted above as the voices started to die out, inmates leaving as they cut off the water and made their way to the exits.

He, was a ‘trustee’. Above timetables and limited showers. Knowing he could stay in the shower as long as he liked, all of the others leaving meant the guards were rounding the other inmates up for chow call. He turned and reached out grabbing the antiseptic. Rubbing the foamy liquid all over his body as it began to froth and foam. Turning and raising his arms to reach spaces he knew needed more attention than others, finally looking down at his nethers. Lifting up the shaft and washing around, giving a few strokes to the massive rod before leaning against the wall, propping himself up by an arm to give himself a proper fitting.

Well into it by the time the shower next to him cut on, his eyes snapped open. It was just rude. All of the other empty showers in the facility and another trustee; which it had to be a trustee due to the time, decided to get right in next to him. Especially when he was busy masturbating. 'Muscles', slapped the wall. “Hey…you mind?!?!” Still holding his shaft in his hand, he slapped again. “I’m talking to you…don’t make me come over there!!!” The water kept on running. The Twi’lek scoffed and stepped out of the shower. “I am going to kick your ass!” But as he turned the corner into the next partition he found no one there, only the water running. Reaching in to turn it off, he lurched forward with the force of being hit by a truck. His head smacking the tile and cracking it.

He turned angrily, blood dripping down his head into his eyes. But lost the anger once he looked up into the face of death itself. A wide angry smile, the whitest teeth. That said something in prison. A place where dental hygiene was not a priority. But they were unnaturally white, or perhaps looked that way next to the dark green scarred lips, inside of the green tattooed and scarred face of his attacker. Unusual, he didn’t even take notice of Mrysti being naked, focusing on her red eyes. A rage building inside of him that over came the sudden fear.

Mrysti wanted him to fight back, needed him to fight back. He pushed up off the floor of the shower stall and ran toward her. Sudden glee leapt into her chest. ‘Yes….YES, please fight back.’ Mrysti moved to the side to let the rageful rush of Twi’lek fall past and hit the opposite wall of the adjacent shower stall. Falling on his face, which smashed against yet another tile floor; the Twi’lek screamed in rage again. Spinning around and standing up to swing toward her. Lekku and fists flying.

She dodged again. Weaving and ducking; moving to the side like a Teras Kasi Master teaching an avoidance class. Until he screamed and sent the final blow in the series toward her. A punch with every ounce of his speed and strength. A strike that would have killed an ordinary man.

Mrysti caught it in midair. The sound of the fist meeting her open hand. Loud, like a thunderclap. The Twi’lek’s eyes got wide, as he looked at his fist and then her. But only for a second. Mrysti twisted the arm, breaking it. Feeling and hearing it pop in three distinct places before she twisted the noodle behind his back, reaching under with her other hand to grab his scrotum and lift him into the air. He was screaming now, but not like before. Before it was a manly rageful scream. The kind that was supposed to strike fear of death into those who would challenge him. Mrysti feared nothing, least of all death. The Goliath Sith tossed him as easily as a wad of flimsy being pitched into a can. The scream turned to a high pitched cry for help. The wall shattered, fresher basins came down as the Twi’lek hit the side and took everything attached to it down with him, to include the tiles.

The smile never left. This was true evil. The Twi’lek believed HE was true evil, but Mrysti was evil incarnate. Things she could do, pain she wished to inflict were unimaginable to the layman. They thought themselves the bad guys. The evil ones who struck fear into the population of the prison. Mrysti shook her head as she walked slowly toward where the Twi’lek lay against the floor. Debris covering his naked form. This was how it always happened. When those who thought themselves the most evil, fearsome beings in the galaxy actually met the face of true evil, they folded. The comprehension just wasn’t there. Mrysti was disappointed, she actually thought it would last longer as the Twi’lek known as ‘Muscles’ began to stir. Dragging himself across the floor toward her, dragging a limp useless arm next to himself.

Stomping down on one of his Lekku, The Twi’lek screamed again. It was true, some of their brains were in there. She watched his eyes glass over before taking her foot off so his head could drop back down on the floor hard. Pursing her lips, she placed her hands on her hips and shook her head again.

“Weak” she said softly. “Pathetic excuse for a male….to think yourself worthy enough for a Sith.” Mrysti made a clicking sound with her mouth as she wagged a finger back and forth. Reaching down she picked up the man, he tried to swing, a weak slack attack which Mrysti simply brushed aside. Ramming him into the wall he just landed against. It cracked again, with his back. His legs fell limp. Mrysti held him with all her own strength so she could look in his eyes. But he wouldn’t look up. Not until she lifted his face with base of an index finger.

“You see…” She said calmly, “…the problem with creatures like you is, you have no knowledge; no concept of whom your betters are. Take me for instance. Now, had you taken the knee…kissed my feet the moment I arrived—oh, and NOT raped my apprentice…you and I could have been ‘allies’? No, that’s the wrong word, I would have allowed you to serve me.”

“K-k-kr-kriff hug-hughhhh….” The Twi’lek tried to spit at her, too weak to do so the bloody spital simply drizzled down his face.

“Ah yes…the brave face at the end. The final ‘Kriff You’ in hopes that somehow, someway your bravery will see you though. See, that feeling you’re having right now, trying to steel yourself from the inevitable? It’s that disbelief again. That this is really happening. So, you tell yourself it isn’t and in doing so…that you will not die.” Mrysti laughed dropping the Twi’lek to the ground only to move to his feet. Picking up an ankle she began dragging him back toward the still running water of his own shower. “I have news for you…worthless piece of filth that you are, this IS happening. It’s not a holo-vid or a story in a book. You…are going to die. And as each second passes, you will wait right up till the end…fighting, until the realization hits you. That there is nothing…absolutely nothing you can do, to stop me….”

Mrysti tossed the Twi’lek like a rag doll back into the shower by his ankle. The tilework cracked and splintered as she entered the cool of the water with her prey. Gently, she knelt down, fingers extended. Softly placing the tips against his throat. Pressing as she smiled and waited for the point to finally reach him. The Twi’lek was nearly unconscious, until she reached inside and held the windpipe in her hand. It started to crunch. Then his eyes snapped open and got wide. He tried to speak, even the limp unusable limbs started to twitch with the one that still had strength. He managed to hit her in the back. Mrysti looked down and stepped on the arm, to hold it in place, then moved the other hand to the Twi’lek’s neck.

“Shhhh…shhhh…” Mrysti whispered softly. “This is redemption for you. Finally, you get to be a good person. Not a lacky or a rapist….shhhhh…”

Gasping and gurgling The Twi’lek flailed, Mrysti finally bored in. The pop was loud, the sound a screeching crumble of flimsy paper against the tile work of the broken shower. She looked deep in his eyes at that moment. The moment the light went out and the realization she spoke of hit. It was a pinnacle moment as it always was, holding an enemies life in your hands and watching them die. Mrysti screamed the moment she saw his eyes dilate, the realization moment passing with the end of his lifeforce; the moment she ripped his head from his shoulders.

Walking out of the shower, Mrysti smiled. A 'thump, thump' of the severed head she drug behind herself, by the Lekku trailing behind her. She needed to savor that moment, knowing that she could not very well drag the head all the way back to the cellblock with her. What a trophy it would have made for her to present to her apprentice. 'Time and opportunity', she told Cornelia.

There was a part of Mrysti, slightly saddened by the fact that she robbed Cornelia of the kill for herself. But, their time together was just beginning and there would be so many more enemies to kill and death to savor. Dragging the head back would have been far too obvious as to who had done such a thing. Knowing they would all talk about it throughout the prison. This death-knell could possibly be the catalyst that sets everything off, Mrysti wasn't sure. She certainly regretted having to break her word to the Colonel, but the moment was one she could not pass up.

Dropping the head at the door she stepped over the threshold. Clean as the day she was born. The waters of the evil Twi’lek washing away everything. But leaving behind a dark message.

One by one, they were all going to meet true evil….perception or not it would be an 'educational' experience.

--

- Bothawui, Republic Recovery Zone….Rear Battle Line Theta….

Through the door of the prefab the screaming continued. Outside, Murriel and Cora stood side by side, not speaking and standing at attention. Their eyes locked forward staring at the far wall. They could hear everything through the thin prefab wall as Major General Crachek tore into RT.

“An unmitigated disaster, General…officers not following orders. Soldiers running off on their own. Deviating from a plan, failure at every level!! Should I go on?” RT didn’t answer. He was seasoned enough to know it was not a question that required an answer because the General was not finished. “I don’t know what kind of shit show you’re running here, but this is not going to go unanswered. There will be repercussions. I am extremely disappointed. A Soldier of your caliber and with your reputation, I will ensure the Director and the Supreme Commander hear of this.”

“Repercussions for what, General?” RT finally said gently and in a calm voice. General Crachek's Mon Cal eyes got wide as his whiskers bristled.

“Excuse me? Did you just say, 'For what?' Tell me you’re joking, General.”

“I never joke when it comes to my work.” RT's look was deadly serious. “The gun and the shield were destroyed. Yes, it’s true that it was not how we planned to take it down. But my team got the job done. Destroyed the gun from the inside without the need for bomber support. It wasn’t pretty, but it was successful.”

Face wrinkling, General Crachek stammered. “Yo-you can’t be serious. You call that a success?!?!”

“The target WAS destroyed. Granted, we had some command and control issues, but—”

“But nothing, General!!!” Crachek stepped back, breathing heavy his nostrils flaring. Crachek wanted to bring all of them up on charges, to include RT. But RT was insulated. Bring overall in charge of the operation and under a different command, Crachek had no power to discipline anyone. They both knew it. “You have a lot more than simple command and control issues going on, General.” Closing down the holo-unit he activated to record everything, Crachek picked it up placing it in his pocket. “I’m going to recommend you be replaced as Commander. I’m also going to recommend Colonel La'chance be court-martialed for insubordination. I realize, it won’t go anywhere. This was your show. But it WILL be on record and that’s all I care about right now.” Snapping to attention, RT saluted. Crachek gave a lazy salute in return. “Dismissed”

--

Outside, as the door opened, RT didn’t bother looking at Murriel or Cora. Only gesturing over his shoulder as he moved past the two of them. Both women stepped off and away from the door to follow. He waited until they made it to the ready room before he turned on them, allowing them to enter and closing the door softly behind Cora; as she was the last to enter.

“That could have gone better…” RT forced a smile. Both women had morose looks. They knew what was coming and had already prepared for it. Cora was the only one out of the three who had a more resolute pose. Folding her arms across her chest and glaring between the two of them.

It wasn’t lost on RT that although Murriel took charge of the operation after he was cut off and most likely saved his life and the lives of the remainder of his squad; that she did in fact disobey orders. Deviating from the plan and taking matters into her own hands. Though it could have ended worse. RT could have been killed as well as the rest of his squad. Cora had a clear shot at the shield, instead she was made to go up top, aid RT in taking out the gun crew; while Murriel entered the base. Which she was never suppose to do. Setting the ground generators to overload and destroying not only the shield, but the entire facility. RT wasn’t lying when he said it was a ‘success’, but a very costly and nearly disastrous one.

And an added bonus. With Cora’s help, Cypher was able to slice into the Imperial datafiles in that facility. Stealing not only Darth Malgus’ personal correspondence, but revealing something they didn’t know.

Mrysti was alive. And in captivity. Something RT was keeping very close to his vest for the moment after turning over all of the data Cypher was able to steal, but that was just to satiate Major General Crachek’s fury.

“She’s doesn’t belong in this job.” Cora said matter of factly, looking directly at RT. They both looked at the Chiss, Murriel’s mouth dropping open slightly as her face twisted in anger. “Don’t look at me like that.” Cora looked at RT. “You tell her. I know you are thinking the same thing.” RT sat down on the edge of the field desk hard, placing his head in his hand to look down. For some reason, the starting bell of a race sounded in his head. The words an announcer would say at the beginning of that race echoing loudly. ‘And…we’re off!!’

“Ok…you’re right Cora.” Murriel placed a hand on her hip and leaned in. “I know a fraction about Military tactics and leadership compared to the two of you…” Narrowing her eyes at her former friend and lover, Murriel gave Cora a glare that could have froze water. “…I led with my gut. That’s what we’re supposed to do in special ops right? Take charge of an ever-changing situation when things go wrong?!?!”

“You’re supposed to follow kriffin’ orders!!!" Cora shot back adding something to the bite at the end. “…’Colonel’…” Cora had risen to the rank of Major in the Imperial Military, not a junior grade officer. And though she held the highest junior grade officer rank in the Republic Military, no one who knew her suspected she was junior in experience.

“And let RT die?!?!” Murriel looked at RT and then back to Cora. "He's YOUR man?!?! How come I'm the only one who cares?!?!"

"This isn't about caring or feelings." Cora glanced at RT shamefully, a brief flash of emotion. The Chiss narrowed her eyes, deliberately not looking at RT as she answered. “That…is what we get paid for, Murriel. If you can’t handle it then maybe this isn’t the line of work you should be in. Perhaps you should go back to fleecing informants for information. Or sucking and kriffing your way into top secret dataflies…”

“Oh, that was low, Cora. Even for you….”

“Enough!!” RT stood up, raising his hands between the two of them. Both women fell silent, still glaring at one another. RT waited a moment to collect himself before he looked at Murriel. “First time out of the gate, Murriel. You take charge and deviate from the plan, realigning the teams and countermanding every single part of the Operation that I briefed to everyone.” She started to speak and RT held up a hand. “I’m not done. Cora’s right…you disobeyed orders. We are in the business of doing our duty, following our orders to the death if necessary.” Murriel looked down. “Your call, should have been MY call….”

“What?!?!” Cora turned her head toward RT, dropping her hands. “You can’t be serious. She deliberately jeopardized the entire operation, put an entire Army Group at risk…hundreds-NO, thousands of lives to—”

“We also get paid to adapt, improvise. Murriel saw a problem and she dealt with it. Granted, it was within the limited skill and frame of reference she has within Special Operations. But she did what she thought was right. And I won’t fault her for that.” Cora dropped her head and scoffed after RT spoke.

Looking up, the Chiss grit her teeth. She wasn’t going to bring it up, but the anger building up caused her to lose control. “I know what this is about—”

“Cora, don’t…” Murriel shook her head. The Chiss looking between the two of them.

“You and Murriel, the both of you…this is about you two.” Cora pointed as RT sucked in a breath, stifling his own anger.

“Captain, I am going to pretend you didn’t say that. This is not personal, it’s professional. And to infer that Murriel and I are still—” RT stopped himself and smiled viciously. “-you know what, I am not even going to entertain that with an explanation to you. You don’t deserve it. You’re angry, upset….”

“You’re damn right I am!” Cora shot back. “How the Republic ever stood a chance of beating the Empire I will never know. The biggest group of undisciplined, half-witted—”

“That’s enough! Captain Barku, you’re relieved.” RT’s eyes got wide as Cora lost expression. “You have some leave coming, I suggest you take it.” A knock at the door stopped all discussion as the three turned to see one of the admin specialists poke their head in. RT gave an annoyed stare.

“General, I am sorry to disturb you. This is urgent. The Director is on the Comm-pic…” The admin specialist retreated as RT’s face grew pale.

“General Crachek wasted no time…” RT said reluctantly. Cora and Murriel started to leave as RT stopped them. “No…you two stay, I’m not finished yet.” Turning around to operate the comm station, a blue field appeared as the Director of Republic Intelligence rezzed into existence. RT saluted once the image came into full resolution. “Mr. Director…a pleasure to see you again, Sir. I’m fairly certain I know why you’re contacting us so soon after the blackout was lifted and I would like to assure you that I take full responsibility for everything. My senior officers and I were just discussing it in order to—”

The director glanced at Murriel and Cora before looking back to RT,

“…But Sir, we are in the middle of an engagement. I can’t just up and leave while we are in the field.”

The Director paused and looked over at Murriel, though his words were directed at RT. The Director was the same man who recruited Murriel in the first place. She looked away. The events of the previous few days not giving her a reason to look at anyone.

They all looked up as RT, looked back toward Murriel then set his eyes back on the Director. “She's raw, Sir…undisciplined, reckless and still has a lot to learn, but she’s capable.” RT looked at her and smiled. “I trust her with my life.”

Cora looked away, her jaw flexing as the Director looked at her.

“Sir…” RT spoke up reluctantly. “Captai—I mean, ‘Major’ Barku has requested leave and I’ve granted it.”

The comm died as did the blue field surrounding it as the three looked at one another.

--

- Coruscant, Senate Armed Services Committee…twenty-four hours prior….

“I nominate Alistare Organa to the position of Chief of Staff of the Combined Services. He has an exemplary record. And has been a faithful servant of the Republic for well over thirty years.” The Senator from Alderaan sat down as someone on the panel called out, “I second the nomination.”

For most of the morning, Karolin sat still and simply listened. She had memorized all of the parliamentary procedure. What struck her as odd, was how quickly the other Senators seemed to move through things. Almost as if all of it was planned beforehand, because it was. Mr. Gent, as conniving and devious as he was; was also just as astute as he made himself out to be. Kneeling down next to Karolin’s chair, he sent her little notes and whispered answers to the questions she had. One of them being the speed at which the committee was moving. Appointments like the one the Senator from Alderaan just announced were purely political. All arranged before any of them even got to their seats. Back room deals and favors being given for the Alderaanian Senator to get his pick of who should be the next Chief of Staff. The second highest military position in all of the Republic.

Karolin narrowed her eyes, reaching forward to touch the button on her console. Which would indicate to the Chairman that she wished to speak. Seeing it, the Chairman, a Human from Coruscant looked down at the lower level, all the way at the end where Karolin sat.

“The Chair recognizes the Senator from the Sovereign World of Mirial…” There was a collective gasp from the room as all eyes turned to Karolin. She stood slowly, smiling for the few Holo-cams that were present as well as the other Senators, turning to look at them. This was not an important meeting, but it was open. There was very little news coverage for such a mundane vote.

“Point of order, Mr. Chairman…I wish take my time for debate on the nomination.” They all looked at one another. “I understand it’s been seconded; I only wish to propose my own nomination.” Several of the Senators started independent discussions. Karolin knew they were no doubt asking each other if she could do that. Though she had no voting power, one of the few powers she had was nominations and debate.

“The Chair will hear the nomination…” The Chairman spoke reluctantly.

“I nominate…Brigadier General…Trea’vor Alpha….”

Someone, far down the the other end of the dias that Karolin couldn't see quickly seconded. She had no idea why, but did not argue.

"Very well..." The Chairman hit the gavel. "...we will commence debate on the two nominations and here arguments for both. Following which, we will vote...."

--

On the ride home, it was all Mr. Gent could talk about. How Karolin had thrown a wrench into something that was already preordained by the Progressives. The nominee from Alderaan was advanced in age and experience. A moderate, as far as military matters went. And Karolin wanted someone who would take the war where it needed to go. And who better than her own brother.

The debate was lively. When it came Karolin's turn to support her nomination it was a slaughter. How could a thirty year veteran stand up to the nomination of a Soldier who was named by two Supreme Chancellors to be a 'Hero of the Republic'; had received the Congressional Star of Coruscant, the Republic's highest military honor for valor....and had his own statue on the parade grounds on the Presidio of the Ministry of Defense. RT had been called back to service by the Republic involuntarily during the war with the Eternal Empire. They didn't bother taking the statue down.

Once they arrived at the apartment, Karolin dismissed both Jes and Mr. Gent. She was tired. A full day of hearings and sitting through all of it wore on her. A quick shower and sliding into bed, she smiled. RT was going to be surprised, but she would explain it all when he got back ‘home’.

--

Atal’lia sat a top the skyrise. So high that climate-controlled clouds wafted by and the speeder lanes as well as the building she was watching looked tiny. The target had arrived home, but at that distance the light coming on in the heavily guarded and protected structure looked like a pin prick of light. The position would not do. Atal’lia would have to get closer. She folded up shop, looking around to ensure she wasn’t being watched. Attaching the straps to her side, Atal’lia locked in the repulsor and started the long climb down. Or at least as far as she needed to in order to take a lift or some stairs.

--

Lowering his set of macros, Alzir smiled to himself. He was in a much better vantage, right on top of the building the other hunter was looking at. And under the cover of clouds, the other could not see him. He watched the hunter start the climb down and took out his rifle. Zooming in, he shook his head picking up the speck of a target within his scope. The distance was too great. There was no shot.

Lowering the rifle, he picked up the data control module and directed the drone to do a fly-by. Not on the other hunter, but on his target. A protective target. One he particularly fond of.

Watching through the blue haze of the transmitted image, Alzir saw how fast Karolin slipped into bed and went to sleep. The life of a Senator, so demanding. The Wroonian also didn’t miss the figure, the shape of the thigh that poked out from under the cover or the flowing mane of; what he knew was, raven black hair. Even in the image, she looked like everything he remembered causing him to smile to himself.

“Oh….Karolin, in another life…Mmmmm.”

Placing the drone in sentry mode, he made his way down the escape and into the maintenance area. Taking one last look across the skyline at the other building. Whoever was coming for Karolin, they were good, but overzealous. Someone was looking for a little notoriety. And Alzir was more than happy to give it to them. Pressing the transmit button on the datapad strapped to his thigh, he sent the images he captured to Marstel. Perhaps the 'big guy' could glean more information about the mysterious hunter who had been placed on Karolin. The Death Mark list had no references of a Republic Senator being a target, which meant it was 'underground'.