[Arcona] House Qel-Droma Fiction Updates

Welcome to the HQD fiction thread! Here you will find fictional updates related to the House. Enjoy!

The Docks
Port Ol’val
36 ABY

Leeadra Halcyon wrapped her cloak tightly around herself as she hurried through the near deserted streets of Port Ol’val. Many of the lamps that were suspended overhead were broken; the few that remained cast only the faintest illumination. However, there was enough light that she could see the evidence of the battles that had taken place months before. Most of the buildings were in varying stages of disrepair, and still bore scorch marks from bombs or blaster fire. She noted with some concern that some of the marks appeared relatively new. The darkness, signs of violence and the oppressive silence created a feeling of unease within the Pantoran which caused her to hasten her steps as she searched for her destination.

She slowed her steps as she arrived at a rundown warehouse. She could not see any light shining between the boards that covered the windows, or any other indication that there was anyone in there. She briefly considered pulling out her datapad to double check the address, but quickly decided against it. Instead, she crossed the street and rapped sharply on the door.

At first, silence was her only answer. Just as she was about to turn away, a narrow slot slid open to reveal a pair of small eyes glaring down at her. The panel slid shut before she could say anything. The door opened to reveal a Besalisk towering over her, his bulky frame filling the doorway. He glared down at her through tiny, yellow eyes before grunting “What’ya want?”

“I’m here for the meeting,” Lee said, trying not to let her unease show.

The Besalisk folded both sets of arms over his massive chest as he stared down at her. “Ain’t nobody here.”

The Pantoran glanced over her shoulder, taking in the other buildings along the street. This was the only one that matched the description she had been given by Zujenia, the Quaestor of House Qel-Droma. “Are you sure? This is the address I was given,” she replied as she glared up at the door guard.

“Ya deaf?” the four-armed guard snapped. “I said there ain’t nobody here, so kark off!” He uncrossed his arms and curled his hands into fists, obviously prepared to make her leave. Leeadra leaned back slightly, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of her lightsaber. However, before either could move, they were interrupted by a third voice.

“Gor’lat, darling, who is at the door?”

Gor’lat turned, and Lee caught a glimpse of Lucine Vasano’s familiar form. The Aedile’s usual pleasant smile was gone, replaced by a look of annoyance as she regarded the Besalisk.

“Just some Pantoran schutta,” Gor’lat said, though there was now a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

“That Pantoran is my guest,” the redhead said. “Let her in. And who told you to guard the door?”

“Amrick did,” the Besalisk replied as he shuffled aside, allowing Lee to step inside. “He said he had some stuff to do and told me ta watch the door and not let anyone in.”

“Hello, darling,” Lucine afforded Lee with a small, tired smile, before turning her attention back to the Besalisk. “Well, tell Amrick that I do not want you guarding the door. You have far too many homicidal impulses to be greeting guests.”

Gor’lat frowned on an expression of intense concentration as he struggled to commit to memory what he was supposed to say. “Hom… homi…si…”

“Oh, never mind! I will tell him,” the Sith snapped. “My apologies, darling, “ she added as she turned her attention back to Lee. “Please, come in. Thank you for getting here so quickly. The Lady Quaestor is awaiting us in the conference room.”

“Sure, no problem,” Lee replied as she followed the Sith. They wove a circuitous path amid storage containers and shelves. “What’s all this about?”

“Did you notice the state of the port as you made your way here?” Lucine asked as she pressed her hand against the keypad. A green light flashed above the lock, and the door slid open to reveal a long hallway.

“Sure. It looked a little rough,” the Pantoran replied hesitantly.

“Darling, you are being too kind,” Lucine said wryly. “Port Ol’val is in dire straits, and we are in need of assistance to get things up and running once more.”

As she spoke, she opened one of the side doors to a small conference room. Zujenia stood near the front of the room, frowning over a holoprojector that sat upon the table. As the two women stepped into the room, the Quaestor gave Lee a tired but welcoming smile.

The three women settled in, and the meeting began with Lee reporting on the Voidbreaker’s most recent mission. Zujenia nodded her head at the appropriate time, but her amber eyes held a faraway look that made it clear that her thoughts were elsewhere.

“It sounds like things are going well with the team,” she said, once Leeadra had wrapped up her report. “I wish I could say things were going as well here, but I’m beginning to think we’re in over our heads.”

As she spoke, she cued up the holoprojector. The first few images were of the docks, the former Besadii Entertainment District, and Jerem’s Plaza. “The recent conflict with the Collective has all but stalled our attempts to rebuild. We’ve got life support online to most areas of the asteroid and have cleared away many of the buildings that were about to collapse, but we have a long way to go. If that wasn’t bad enough, we’re still having problems with a few of the gangs. Not everyone is happy with the idea of joining the Blindman’s group, so we’ve been dealing with the occasional outbreak of violence.”

“Between the gang violence and the fact that half the port is not functioning, we have lost out on quite a bit of trade,” Lucine put in. “The black market is all but deserted. Simply put, the smugglers just are not coming.”

“What about the upper Summit? Can they send some troops from Selen to help?” Lee asked as she frowned at the image of the nearly deserted dock.

“Things are just as bad there,” Zujenia replied glumly. “No, we’re on our own on this one. Lee, I want you to bring the Voidbreaker back here for a time. We need to focus our efforts on Ol’val. We’ll put out the story that the Voidbreaker crew is acting under the orders of the Blindman so that the Battleteam can help out with the cleanup.”

“All right,” Lee replied slowly. “But where will we start?”

Silence fell over the room as Zuji mulled over her answer. “We’ll start with the cleaning up, and also try to gather some funds. Once we have a stable base of operations we can focus on dealing with the other gangs,” she said at last. “It’s probably going to take a while to get Ol’val back on its feet, but hopefully we will get a good chunk of the work done before the next fiasco arises.”

Estle City
Selen
36 ABY

Kordath slumped in his chair, his eyes grim and downcast. Seeing Zuji had been difficult, more difficult than he had anticipated. They were communicating now, at least, which automatically made things better than they had been. But he still felt chilled by her cool demeanor, and her standoffish behavior left him feeling low.

His datapad chimed on his desk, indicating that he had a message. He ignored it, just as he ignored the dark-haired woman sitting across from him. Satsi Tameike lounged in the chair on the opposite side of his desk, her boots propped up on the surface and a bored expression on her face. “Frak, least you got to see her,” she said at last, breaking the silence. “She’s still givin’ ya the chill, huh?”

Kordath nodded slowly but did not bother to speak. He simply felt too depressed to manage any words.

On the desk, the datapad chimed again.

“I don’t like seein’ you like this, Kordy. You look like you got kicked in the choobs. Whad’ya say we go get a drink? Get ya out of here,” Satsi said as she studied her friend with concern. When the datapad chimed a third time, she glanced down at it in irritation. “You gonna get that?”

“It’s just tha’ damned woman again,” the Ryn said with a groan. “Soon as Zuj told me she was quittin’, Lucine started blowin’ up me datapad wi’ all these plan she got fer when she’s made Quaestor.”

Satsi narrowed her eyes at the datapad, glaring at it venomously. She snatched up the device and began flipping through the messages. “Look at all this! Financial projections, schematics, she’s even got a ten year plan here! Wonder how long she’s been waitin’ to unload all this sithspit on ya.” She paused, reading one report in particular, her eyes widening with surprise. “Kark, she’s even got recommendations for the next Aedile. Only one, though. Karking Rhylance, of all people.”

Her words caused Kordath to stir a bit. “Th’doctor? Seem t’remember that the DIA dinnae have many nice things ta say ‘bout ‘im.”

“Eh, he’s smart and is pretty loose with his ethics. Kinda refreshing to see, so long as he don’t go cuttin’ on anyone I like,” Satsi said with a shrug as she tossed the datapad back on the desk. “Also gave us quite a bit of info on Taldryan, ya know, after his sackiin.”

“He did what now? That is intrestin.” Kordath contemplated this new information.

“So? Watcha gonna do?”

Kordath shrugged his shoulders, trying to consider his options. Yet the only thing he could picture was the look in Lucine’s eyes when they had last met, deep in the bowels of the Godless Matron. She had been fully prepared to kill him then. “Maybe we should just let ‘er have it.”

Satsi regarded him with hooded eyes. “You know she and Rhylance are friends, right? You do that and I’d give ‘em six months before they have the whole karking House rising up against you.”

“Yeah? An I’m guessin’ ya have a better idea, then?” Kord replied dryly.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Satsi replied with a wicked grin. “Why not put the Chiss in charge?”

“An’ how’s that any different?” Kord demanded.

“Think about it,” Satsi replied smoothly. “They’re supposed to be friends, right? And you know how much of a ladder-climber that red-headed schutta is. So think how pissed off she’d be if she gets passed over in favor for her ‘friend’.” A slow, wicked grin spread across Tameike’s face as she spoke. “We know those two are trouble, so why not make sure they cause trouble for each other and not for us?”

“Tha’s not a bad idea,” Kord murmured as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea at all.”

Port Ol’val
Dajorra System
36 ABY

The docks of Ol’val bustled with business as crates of freshly baked goods were loaded and unloaded to various merchants. A purple-hued Twi’lek ushered the deliveries to the correct recipients. Tali Sroka, a loyal and trustworthy friend to Zujenia, had been placed in charge of the half-Ryn’s final mission as the leader of Qel-Droma.

“– andt take this batch over to the fifth district, vhere the Pride usedt to be. Andt be quick about it, let’s try andt offer them a varm treat, yes?” the workers listened to the exotic lady, going about their business with haste. Tali could not help but to smile as she watched the merchants and crewmen pick up the pace to do her bidding.

Before long, she noticed a familiar half-Ryn approaching, followed by a Chiss recognizable to her only by reputation. Zuji was speaking to the somewhat newly enlisted Arconan, pointing out several areas of interest located at this port. Tali glanced around to make sure that no one was standing idle, before hurrying over to the pair. “Zuji, how nice to see you couldt make it!” she said, offering the former Quaestor a bright smile.

“Tali, I’m happy to see you’re doing well with the goods. Our plan to get new supplies seems to have been a rousing success!” Zuji beamed, truly pleased by the efforts of her House.

“It vas your idea, I just didt as I was toldt,” the Twi’lek said with a slight smirk. “And vhat are you doing vith the Chiss, Zuji?”

Zuji motioned for her companion to step forward and introduce himself.

“Hello, Tali is it? My name is Rhylance and I have been requested to take over for Zujenia as Head of Qel-Droma.” The Chiss held out his right hand as an extension of his greeting.

Tali took his hand and gave Zuji a slightly saddened look. The half-Ryn had been a popular leader; and her reassuring presence at the helm would be sorely missed. Her brief sadness was mingled with curiosity regarding this stranger who had been chosen to lead. She studied him as if trying to determine what sort of leader he would be. But the Chiss’s face remained impassive. “I look forwardt to vorking vith you, Rhylance. I have a feeling you vill bring our little organization to interesting depths,” Tali said at last.

Rhylance turned to look at the crates that were being moved around. He could not help but to raise his eyebrows as a loader bearing a palette of chocolate-scented boxes passed the trio. “If I may ask, what is in these crates?”

“Oh, baked goods that are to be used as trading materials for new supplies. After the Hutts attacked us, we needed all the help we could get,” Zuji answered.

“What kind of baked goods?”

“Cookies,” Tali said with a shrug.

Rhylance seemed bewildered by the answer. “Cookies? And here I thought this organization was legally flexible, not sweet and delicious.”

“We have many fronts to protect Qel-Droma’s interests,” the half-Ryn said.

With that, Zuji began detailing a few of the projects that she had initiated within the port. As the half-Ryn and the Chiss spoke, Tali noticed a familiar red-head making her way through the crowd. Lucine spotted them a moment later, and a look of confusion crossed her features when she saw Rhylance and Zuji in close conversation. The Sith’s look of confusion was enough to tell Tali that she was unaware of Rhylance’s promotion. This should be interesting, the Twi’lek thought as she suppressed a smirk, watching as Lucine drew nearer to the group.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise to find three of my favorite people here,” Lucine said as she approached, offering them a brilliant smile. “Rhylance, what brings you to our lovely Port Ol’val?”

Zuji and Rhylance quickly exchanged glances, each having assumed that the other had told Lucine of the Chiss’s promotion. In that brief silence, Tali spoke up. “Vell, Zuji vas just giving him a tour of the port, since he’s the new Quaestor andt all.”

Lucine’s smile dimmed for the briefest of moments, the reaction so quick that only the Chiss seemed to have noticed. “Well,” she said after a beat, “congratulations, darling. I will look forward to working closely with you in the future.”

“As will I,” Rhylance replied smoothly. It seemed as if there was an unspoken exchange between the two, and as Tali looked back and forth between them, she raised her eyebrows at it.

Care to join us?” Zuji asked.

“Thank you, but I am afraid I cannot. I have a meeting scheduled with some of our more… unsavory associates,” the Sith replied, her tone laden with regret. “But I will be certain to keep you both apprised of the results.”

Lucine bade farewell to the trio and took her leave. She hurried to the warehouse that doubled as the offices for both Zujenia and herself. She barely acknowledged the surly looking doorman as she swept past him, and retired to her office.

Once the door had closed behind her, she paused and looked around the small space. The room was only half the size of the Quaestor’s office, but she made do with what she had. Her pleasant mask never faded as she crossed the room to pour herself a drink.

She took a sip of the amber liquid, and her smile faded slightly as she reflected upon the conversation that had just taken place.

Passed over. She had been passed over. They had chosen Rhylance, a newcomer, of all people. After all she had done for the House and the Clan, she had been passed over.

She was clutching her glass so tightly that her hand was shaking, but she did not seem to notice. The thoughts whirled within her mind, faster and faster, until she hurled the glass against the wall with a shriek of rage.

Someone was going to pay for this insult.

Office of the Quaestor
Undisclosed Warehouse
Port Ol’val

Rhylance surveyed his newly redecorated office with a critical eye. The smell of cleaning agents and paint still hung in the air, a silent testament to the work that had gone into improving the space. The homey decor that Zujenia had favored was gone, replaced by a more modern style, white and metal, with clean lines and a pristine appearance. It had been difficult securing the necessary contractors to do the work, but the out of pocket expense had been worth it.

Yet his lab was not yet complete. He still needed a few pieces of equipment, but they would not be delivered until the Shadowport was back in business.

The Chiss frowned as he crossed the room to study a holoprojection of a map of Ol’val. In the past week, they had seen a significant uptick in violence from those gang members who opposed the Blindman’s reign. The fighting in the streets had been vicious, yet there seemed to be no end to the number of enemies.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door interrupted him from his thoughts. The door slid open to reveal a half-Bothan female. Rhylance recognized her as Eilen Jath, one of the Voidbreaker’s Force Users

“Sorry to interrupt,” Eilen said as she stepped into the office. She paused just inside the door, fidgeting with the datapad she held in her hand. “I… uh… I found something. It looks like some kind of coded message.”

“Thank you,” the Consul said. He accepted the datapad and glanced down at it. “Hmm. It doesn’t look like it is one of our ciphers. Well spotted,” he said as he retrieved his own datapad and began to make notes with a stylus. As he worked on cracking the code, occasionally glanced at her, studying her with the same level of interest he was giving the code in front of him. “Eilen, I’ve heard that you are half-Bothan and half-Selonian. Is this true?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eilen replied hesitantly, her ears lifting slightly as if to reflect her curiousity. She had been unaware that the Doctor even knew who she was, let alone what her heritage was.

Rhylance paused a moment, lifting his red-eyed gaze to study her intently for a moment. The half-Bothan fidgeted under his gaze. “Interesting,” he muttered as he went back to comparing the two datapads. “Such a unique genealogy would no doubt be fascinating to study further. Your bone structure is truly a thing of beauty; the merging of both species, I cannot fathom the intricacies of your DNA’s shaping for this outcome. Absolutely beautiful, has anyone told you this before?"

“Uh…I guess not,” Eilen replied, as she averted her eyes, trying to figure out an appropriate response to that. Her ears drooped as she thought. “Thanks, I think?”

Sensing her awkwardness, Rhylance steered the conversation to more comfortable topics as his stylus flew over his datapad screen. Within a few minutes, the message was decoded, and he read it aloud, “My Master agrees that it is time for the Blindman’s reign to come to an end, and he is willing to provide the weapons you requested. The shipment will arrive next Centaxday, at the usual place. We can discuss a suitable compensation once you and your gang have taken Ol’val and disposed of that blind nuisance.”

“Centaxday? That was yesterday!” Eilen exclaimed.

Rhylance nodded slowly as he considered the implications of the message. One thing was for certain: the situation on Ol’val was likely going to get worse before it got better.

The Docks
Port Ol’val

“Well, I must confess that I had my doubts,” Lucine said as she watched a GR-75 medium transport ship clear the newly widened tunnel and make its approach toward the dock. She checked her chrono and tapped a note into her datapad, before glancing up at the Kaminoan female that accompanied her. “But it appears your project was a success. Well done.”

Yumni Ha allowed a small smile as she inclined her head. “I think you’ll find that the widened tunnel will expedite the ingress and egress of ships within the port.”

“I would agree, Miss Ha,” the Aedile said with a sweet smile. “It would have been most unfortunate for all involved if it had not been successful. Especially since you took it upon yourself to undertake this project without any sort of clearance from the people in charge.” Though her voice was pleasant, it carried the slight undertone of threat in it.

The Kaminoan returned her gaze impassively, “I rarely waste my time on projects that do not carry a certain degree of success,” she replied coolly.

“I am thrilled to hear it! And I must say that I admire your resourcefulness. I do hope you will apply that same resourcefulness to the upcoming building projects,” Lucine said. If she was bothered by the fact that Yumni had stood her ground, it was not reflected in her cheerful tone.

“Building projects?”

Though Yumni’s tone was polite, her eyes took on an avaricious gleam that made it clear that Lucine had caught her attention. “Building projects,” the Sith confirmed with a toss of her red curls. “Now that most of the rubble has been cleared away, it is time to restore the Shadowport to its former glory. But to do that, we need people with vision to help with its restoration. The Blindman has big plans for this port, and it will no doubt prove to be a lucrative venture for anyone who chooses to get in on the ground floor.”

“Is that so?” Yumni said in a thoughtful tone. “And what sort of help would be required?”

“Oh, the usual. Helping to plan projects, lining up contractors, putting the pieces into place to make this a thriving port,” Lucine said. “There is so much to do, and we will need the help of many capable people to do it!”

They walked as they talked, making their way past small groups of volunteers, contractors and armed guards that were clustered on the docks. Most of the latter were not in any sort of uniform and carried the hardened, surly look of men and women who had lived a hard life on the streets.

As a result, it made the massive grey Wookiee stand out even more, as he growled a cheerful tune while working on a hover platform. As Yumni and Lucine approached, he opened his mouth wide in a toothy smile. He gnarred in greeting, which his datapad duly translated. [FIRE LADY! TALL-THIN LADY! AM NICE DAY, YES?]

“I suppose it is, yes,” Yumni replied coolly, bristling a bit at being referred to as ‘Tall-thin Lady’. “Although it’s hard to tell if it even is daytime, considering the fact that we’re inside an asteroid.”

“Kelviin has been an absolute dear, helping us to get all of this old equipment working,” Lucine said as she gave the Wookiee a warm smile.

[AM LIKE HELP,] Kelviin replied in a low growl. [ALL MACHINE WORK GOOD NOW!] As if to prove his words, he smacked the hover platform with a large spanner.

“I… don’t think that is how one goes about fixing that,” Yumni said. “Here, let me take a closer look.”

As Kelviin and Yumni bent over the broken platform, Lucine looked up to see a familiar figure approaching. It was Selmy Mabross, a low-level gang member who had a tendency for overindulgence when it came to spice. A fine sheen of sweat on his forehead reflected in the dim lighting, and he fidgeted restlessly as he approached.

The man’s nervousness set the Sith on edge, and she surreptitiously checked to make sure there were guards nearby as she closed the difference between them. It was entirely possible that the man simply needed another glitterstim fix, but she preferred to be cautious, given the violence of the recent days.

“What is the matter, Selmy?” she asked as the gangster drew close enough to speak. The feeling of foreboding was growing, and she suppressed the urge to reach for her lightsaber. She did not have it anyway; the higher-ups in Selen remained adamant that the presence of Force Users be kept hidden from the general populace.

“I… uh… I gotta message fer the Blindman,” the man said as his nervous gaze darted around the crowd before fumbling for something in his coat. “It’s real important-like that he gets it.”

“And what is it?” Lucine’s voice was calm as she drew a step nearer, placing herself within arms reach of the man.

“‘Die’,” came the response as Selmy pulled a blaster from his jacket. Lucine darted forward as he took aim, her fingers closing around his wrist and pushing it up and to the side. The blaster went off, one bolt searing her shoulder before she could knock aside his aim.

The scene descended into chaos as several of the nearby gang members drew weapons and began shooting into the crowd. The air filled with shouts, curses and the sound of blaster and slugthrower fire, as those loyal to the Blindman sought cover and returned fire.

In the middle of the fray, Lucine struggled with Selmy, trying to pull the weapon from his hand. The Force screamed a warning, and she used his wrist to pull him forward and around, using his body to shield her from a slug that had been meant for her. The gang member slumped and she released his arm, before diving into cover behind a stack of supply crates. Yumni was already there, surveying the field with wary grey eyes. “Does this happen often?”

“A minor setback,” Lucine said through gritted teeth as she clutched her wounded shoulder and surveyed the field. Three other members of Selmy’s gang had taken positions of cover and were firing at her people. Even in the dim light, she could see that the weapons were new and carried expensive modifications. The implication was clear: someone had armed them well. The Sith cursed inwardly, before hailing her lieutenants on her comm. “Gentlemen. We have got one behind the crates in front of the warehouse and two in the alley. I want at least one of them alive, if possible!”

As she spoke, the one near the warehouse gave a shout and hurled a metallic sphere in the direction of the hover platform. As the light reflected off of the thermal detonator as it arced through the air, Lucine realized belatedly that she had not seen Kelviin since the fighting had started. The thought flashed through her mind just as the bomb clattered into the platform and exploded with a deafening BOOM, a sound that was accompanied by the keening wail of a Wookiee in pain.

The Obsidian Market
Port Ol’val

As the weeks passed, Port Ol’val underwent a gradual but striking transformation. The life support, security and lighting systems were repaired, restoring access to previously unreachable areas of the port. The charred remains of fallen down buildings were cleared away, and in their place new structures began to rise. Despite the occasional raids, shipments of food and necessary supplies began to arrive with more regularity. Gradually, Ol’val was coming back to life.

Nowhere was this more obvious than the Obsidian Market. It had sprung up in the ruins of the Besadii Entertainment District and had grown steadily as the rubble and debris was cleared away. The stalls sold a wide variety of items, from arms and ammo to foodstuffs to exotic goods, most of which had arrived at the port in the holds of smuggler ships.

Leeadra Halcyon took in the sights and smells as she weaved through the market, on her way to her meeting with the Aedile. The rebirth of the Shadow Port was due in large part to the efforts of the members of House Qel Droma and Voidbreaker. Many had answered the call for assistance. They had helped in a variety of ways to help clean up Ol’val and remove most of the insurgent gang members. Thanks to their help, the Blindman’s rule over Ol’val was secure, which really meant the House was firmly back in control of the port. The Pantoran could not help but feel a surge of pride at the hard work of her fellow Arconans.

That pride quickly turned to uncertainty as she drew nearer to the meeting site, only to see that Lucine was not there. She paused in midstep when she saw that it was Rhylance, the bespectacled Quaestor of House Qel Droma, who was waiting for her. Despite the fact that she had already had a number of meetings with the Chiss, the fact was that there was something about the man that unnerved her. He had a certain degree of creepiness that was impossible to ignore.

After a moment, she realized that a few people were looking at her strangely. She pushed aside her wariness and approached the Quaestor. “Well, looks like business is picking up,” she said lightly as she drew nearer.

“Indeed,” Rhylance replied as he snapped the cover of the datapad closed. Without sparing a glance at her, he turned and strode into a nearby alley. “This way, please. I do not want to have this conversation in the middle of a crowded street.”

“Then why was I told to come here?” Lee asked as she trailed behind him.

“Because I spent the morning examining one of the rival gang members,” Rhylance replied as he cast a grim smile over his shoulder. “I daresay I made a considerable mess, and it is still being cleaned.”

“I see,” Lee said as she suppressed a shudder. She knew enough about what went on in the Doctor’s ‘examinations’ to know that she did not want any further details.

They moved deeper into the alley, and a quick glance behind her proved that two large and thuggish men had moved into position at the entrance to ensure that their conversation remained private.

“There now, this is much cozier,” Rhylance said at last, pausing midway between the alley entrance and the wall the terminated it. “So, what is your report?”

“Well, the construction is nearly done,” Lee replied. “A bunch of our people have jumped in to help. Of all of them, Luka Zarkot has been a huge help.”

“Luka,” the Chiss said thoughtfully. “The lean individual who favors wearing the large hood, right?”

“That’s them,” Lee agreed.

Rhylance nodded slightly. “I have heard quite a few positive reports concerning their performance. Please convey my thanks to them when you next see him.”

“Sure,” the Pantoran replied. A thought then occurred to her, and she pulled out her own datapad. “There was something they wanted me to show you. Here,” she called up an image, before handing it to the Quaestor. The image depicted a single, all-seeing eye that was weeping tears of blood.

Rhylance raised his eyebrows as he studied the picture, before returning the datapad to her. “It is an excellent piece, but why are you showing it to me?”

“It was Luka’s suggestion. They think it would be a good idea for the Blindman to have some sort of insignia, something for the gang members to rally behind.”

“An intriguing idea. I shall consider it,” the Chiss replied. “What else?”

“I just received word from the Voidbreaker that they have stopped another attempted raid on one of our smuggling vessels. The raiding party claimed they were hired by some group I’ve never heard of, the Obsidian Daggers,” Lee said.

Rhylance nodded slowly as if he had been expecting this news. “I trust your crew made certain that they would never raid us, or any other ship, ever again?”

“Yeah, they took care of it,” Lee replied. She paused for a moment, before continuing. “You don’t seem surprised. Who are these people?”

“As of now, our intelligence is rather scant,” the Chiss replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “However, we do know that they tried to enrich themselves by taking advantage of our recent misfortunes. I think we should see to it that their avarice and ambition is suitably rewarded, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but we’re going to have to find them first,” Lee said doubtfully.

Before the conversation could continue, it was interrupted by a commotion at the entrance of the alleyway. They turned to see the surly-looking guards in heated discussion with a familiar redhead. Apparently whatever she said had an effect, because they stepped aside and allowed her to proceed toward them.

“Leeadra, darling! It is wonderful to see you again!” Lucine said as she offered the Pantoran a brilliant smile. “I do apologize for interrupting, but we are going to be late for the funeral if we do not hurry.”

“Oh, hell. That’s today, isn’t it?” Lee said, realizing belatedly that the Aedile was wearing black, presumably for the occasion. Things had been so busy that she had nearly forgotten.

“Indeed it is,” Lucine replied, before turning her attention onto Rhylance. She quirked an eyebrow at the medical science officer’s uniform that he typically wore. “That is what you are wearing?”

“What, precisely, is wrong with it?” the Chiss asked.

“Nothing really, it is just part of my ongoing campaign to get you to wear something, anything other than that boring uniform,” Lucine said brightly, ignoring Rhylance’s eye roll. “At least it is the correct color. Now, we really should be going, darlings. It would be quite disrespectful to Kelviin if we were late.”

The Docks
Port Ol’val

As the lights within the asteroid were beginning to dim to indicate night-time, a small group of people gathered in the Docks. They were there for two purposes: out of respect for a dear friend and to bid farewell to an integral part of the team.

In the center of the crowd sat what remained of the hover platform that had been destroyed in the firefight that had taken place only a short time before. The charred remains had been covered with flowers, which were a rarity in the port, but a sign of the love that they bore Kelviin. The expressions of most of those assembled were stoic, as was appropriate for the solemn occasion.

Kelviin was in the center of the crowd, before the remnants of the hover platform, wearing a black armband as a sign of his grief. He intoned the eulogy gravely in a series of growls and whines, which were translated emotionlessly by the datapad that he held in his massive paw. [ALL AM MISS. WORK HARD, AND NOT NEED MUCH REPAIR.]

As the crowd listened to Kelviin’s emotional send-off for his beloved hover platform, Rhylance leaned closer to Lucine. “Why exactly was I required to attend this?”

“Because Kelviin is a beloved member of the team, and it is important to support him in his time of grief,” Lucine replied in an undertone.

“But it is a hover platform!” the Chiss muttered.

“He built the thing from scratch. When you have a Wookiee mechanic who is upset about something, you do what you need to do to let him work through it,” the redhead murmured. She patted Rhylance on the shoulder. “Relax, darling. The Obsidian Daggers will be dealt with in due course. In the meantime, this sort of thing helps build loyalty.

“I suppose,” Rhylance said quietly, though his tone of voice was doubtful.

“Trust me, we need all the help we can get,” Lucine said. “There will be plenty of time for terrible bloody vengeance in the future. This upstart gang will be made to pay.”

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

“All right, Rhylance, I will bite. Why do you have a cage full of rats in your office?” Lucine asked as she peered past the bars. All ten of the furry creatures laid still, their paws sticking in the air. “Correction, a cage full of dead rats?” she amended with a moue of distaste.

“They were a part of my most recent experiment,” the Chiss medic replied, not bothering to look up from his datapad. Slender fingers flew over the screen as he tapped in his notes and observations.

“You were testing a new poison?” the redhead nervously took a step away from the cage. Rhylance’s poisons were remarkably effective, and she did not want to be within range in case it was some sort of inhalant.

“Oh no, it was not a poison.”

“Then what in the world did you give those rats?”

Rhylance smiled wryly as he peered up at her over the rims of his glasses. “I gave them a sample of the eggnog you made.”

Lucine’s eyes narrowed as she absorbed his words. “You know, darling, you could have simply told me that you did not care for it.”

“This was more fun,” Rhylance replied.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

“But why socks?” Magik asked as he stared at the footwear that hung on the fireplace.

Kelviin uttered a series of growls as he carefully tacked another stocking to the mantle. His datapad translated in an androgynous voice. [AM WHAT DO IN KASHYYK. LEAVE SOCKS UP FOR SANDY CLAWS].

“Sandy Claws?” Magik repeated dubiously.

[AM WOOKIEE WHO LEAVE PRESENTS!] Kelviin elaborated.

“And he leaves these gifts in socks,” Magik said slowly.

Kelviin nodded happily as he continued attaching footwear to the fireplace, oblivious to the doubting tone in Magik’s voice. Eilen wandered in as he was finishing his task. The tall space-ferret paused, staring at the scene in amazement. “Hey, neat! When did we get a fireplace?”

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Leeadra yawned and stretched, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to relax. After the past few months of constant conflict, both on Selen and against the Collective, it was nice to have a quiet couple of nights.

The Pantoran fluffed her pillow and burrowed in her blankets. All was quiet in their little section of space, which meant there was a good chance that she was finally going to be able to get a good night’s sleep.

She had just gotten comfortable when her comm clicked on. “Uh… Captain? You’d best get down here. We’ve got a bogey.”

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

A few minutes later, Lee strode onto the bridge. “All right, what have you got?” she asked, hoping that it was something minor so that she could go back to bed.

“That’s the problem, Captain. I’m not really sure. We’re tracking it now, but… well, see for yourself,” the first officer, Brandon Higgs replied as he gestured toward the viewscreen and the tiny object that was flying through the darkness of space.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

• With a little old driver, so lively and quick,*
  I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

Lee squinted as she tried to discern what precisely she was looking at. It was moving quickly, and as it passed in front of one of Selen’s moons, she was able to discern its outline from the silhouette. “Is that a sleigh?”

“Yes, ma’am. An open sleigh,” Brandon replied warily.

Lee stared at the darkened silhouette. “Am I seeing things, or is it being pulled by…”

“Bantha. Yes, ma’am.”

Lee blinked, before bringing her hands up to rub her eyes. She vaguely remembered Kelviin telling her about someone named Sandy Claws, as he was asking to borrow one of her socks. According to him, Sandy Claws flew around in a sleigh, delivering presents to good boys and girls. Could it be that he was telling the truth?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she quickly dismissed it. Even if the legend of Sandy Claws was true, there was no way anyone could fly around in a sleigh in the middle of space. It was just plain impossible. “I swear, if Rhylance is using the ventilation systems to test his hallucinogenic gas again…”

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

“Have our scans picked up anything about it?” Lee demanded.

“We’re not detecting any shields on it, and no propulsion systems either. Frankly, I have no idea how it’s moving that fast. Or at all, for that matter,” Brandon replied with a shrug.

“Looks like we’re gonna get a chance to get a closer look,” spoke up one of the technicians. “It’s coming around!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

“It appears to be on a collision course with us,” Higgs said as he monitored the approaching entity.

“Try to hail them on all channels. Helm, prepare to take evasive maneuvers,” Lee commanded.

The crew sprang into action as klaxons blared overhead, announcing to anyone not on the bridge to secure themselves as best as possible.

“It’s still coming!”

Lee sat down in the captain’s chair, before looking to the Helmsman, a rotund Falleen known as Cillian. “You’re up!”

The Falleen turned to her controls with a toothy grin, and the Voidbreaker’s engines roared as she engaged the thrusters and forward and downward. The sleigh passed overhead, though Lee noted that it was quick to circle around to give chase.

“It’s keeping up,” she said in disbelief.

“Keeping up? Hells, I think it’s actually gaining on us,” Brandon muttered.

A quick glance at the monitor proved that he was correct. The sleigh appeared much closer, propelled only by eight bantha who appeared to be running in space. “How is this even happening?” Lee muttered.

It was then that the bantha appeared to leap upward. Moments later, the Voidbreaker shuddered as the sleigh landed on the topside of the ship. Lee could almost hear the hooves of the bantha on the durasteel plating of the hull.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

Eilen glanced up as the klaxons abruptly ceased. “What was that? Some kind of drill?”

Magik snorted. “On Sithmas eve? I doubt it.”

[MAYBE WAS SANDY CLAWS!] Kelviin put in as he laboriously straightened the socks on the mantle.

The Sith fixed the Wookiee with an icy glare. “I doubt that too.”

As if on cue, the comms crackled, and Lee’s voice could be heard overhead. “Attention all crew. It… ah… appears we have been boarded. Report to— “

WHUMP A heavy thud issued forth from the fireplace, accompanied by a cloud of soot. As they watched, a massive figure emerged. Abruptly, Kelviin gave a roar of delight. [SANDY CLAWS!]

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

The Wookiee that emerged from the fireplace was well over seven feet tall, with a stocky frame and a rounded belly. His bright blue eyes twinkled and he was smiling what could be considered a jolly smile, though it displayed an uncomfortable number of teeth. The Wookiee’s long, curly beard hinted at his age.

As the trio stared, the Wookiee brushed the soot from his fur and adjusted his red velvet cap. He then reached back up the fireplace to pull down a large sack.

It was then that Magik remembered himself, and reached for the lightsaber on his belt.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

Sandy Claws reached into his pack and began filling the socks that hung on the mantle one by one. Kelviin and Eilen watched in awe, but Magik sidled closer, trying to maneuver himself so that the Wookiee had his back to him.

But before he could move into position, the Wookiee finished his task. He turned abruptly to face Magik and once again offered him a toothy grin.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

Magik ignited his lightsaber and darted forward with a shout, intending to cut the intruder in two. But his opponent nimbly dodged the swing, taking a step back toward the fireplace. Moving with unnatural speed, the white Wookiee ducked into the fireplace and leaped up the flue.

With a growl, the Sith peered up the chimney, intending to give chase, But he quickly realized just how narrow the space was; there was no way he could climb it. But how did the Wookiee manage it?

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

“He’s disengaging!” Brandon said abruptly.

“What?” Lee paused in the act of securing her armor and turned toward the viewscreen. Sure enough, the sleigh was flying away. “Wait, what?!”

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

“Vhat a night,” Tali sighed heavily as the door of her cabin slid shut behind her. She placed her lightsaber on the stand and divested herself of her armor as quickly as possible. It had become almost unbearably tight over the past month or so, but she insisted upon wearing it despite the discomfort.

She allowed herself a small smile as she rested her hand upon her belly. She could feel the baby inside kicking, no doubt stirred to excitement by the events of the evening. The motion of the small life inside of her caused a sense of serenity to wash over her. As if sensing her calm, the baby settled down.

It was then that Tali noticed that her quarters were not how she had left them. She crossed the room to her bunk, which only took a few steps in the cramped quarters. There, resting upon her pillow, were a tiny pair of pink lek-warmers wrapped in a festive bow. Pink. The same color as the mostly-finished onesie she had been knitting.

She reached down to pick up the tiny pieces of headwear, noting the precision of the stitching, and the softness of the yarn. Just the perfect thing to keep tiny lekku warm.

Tears misted her eyes at the thoughtfulness of the gift. She reached down to rest her hand on her swollen belly once more. “Happy Lifeday, little one,” she whispered.

Nar Shaddaa
One Month Ago
36 ABY

Xzehar Lethror worked with methodical slowness as he broke down and cleaned his Synergy S-5 Oathbreaker. Above all things he prided himself as a professional, and a professional did not neglect his tools. He breathed slowly as he worked through the familiar routine, picturing in his mind’s eye the final moments of his last job.

The soft sound of recorded orchestral music played from the nearby datapad as the Falleen went about his detailed work. His hands glided over the exposed mechanics of his rifle, touching them with the sensitivity of a lover’s caress. This weapon was like family to him, and he treated it as such.

Nearby, his datapad vibrated three times, indicating an incoming message and interrupting his music. He ignored it for the moment, instead focusing on reverently reassembling the sniper rifle. The Falleen reached over and grabbed a nearby tumbler of whiskey and drank it down, signifying his task’s completion.

When the ritual was complete, he retrieved the datapad and glanced at the interface. The message contained the details of his newest job. Someone was targeting a small group of people to send a message and was willing to pay a handsome price for his services.

He slowly flipped through the dossiers of the intended targets, nodding slightly to himself. Yes… this would be an interesting job indeed. Satisfied with the data, he carefully packed his sniper rifle in its case. It was time to pay a visit to Port Ol’val.

Port Ol’val
Present Day
37 ABY

Ol’val had picked up considerably after Whallatta’s thugs had been excised and the rebuilding effort had seen much of the ruins cleared. New, equally illicit life had taken root in the void left by the burned-out old and, it seemed, was growing stronger by the day. Tali Sroka shared this predicament with the Shadow Port, her own belly swollen by months of pregnancy. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

The Twi’lek had turned down an unofficial maternity leave offered to her by the Aedile, though she had been silently grateful for the clear shift in her duties towards the more mundane and less lightsaber-y kind. Even now, searching for some odds and ends to add to the Voidbreaker’s stores with the ship’s captain and the lanky half-Bothan at her side, the Twi’lek was finding it arduous to keep moving at a brisk enough pace to keep up with the pair.

“You need a minute there, head-tails?” Leeadra Halcyon asked, the pocket-sized Pantoran looking up at her as Tali seemed to struggle for breath.

“I’m goodt!” she replied, convincing no-one.

“I think we really should stop, I know a place nearby where—" Eilen Jath began, but was cut off abruptly by a sharp, boyish yell.

“Miss Sroka? Is it really you?!” A yellow-hued Twi’lek boy, scrawny and dirty, ran across the narrow street towards the heavily pregnant Jedi, with the half-Bothan staring at him with a stunned look.

“And who are you sup – ?” Eilen began again, this time being cut off by the other Twi’lek.

“Pib’leni! H-how? I thought you vere deadt!” Tali knelt down as best she could, spreading her arms wide in a welcoming embrace. The last she’d seen of the boy, he’d been shot at by slave owners on a mining asteroid. She was sure he’d died with the others, a painful failure she still carried heavily in her heart.

Leeadra furrowed her brow, sensing something awry, though the sensation remained elusive. She placed a hand upon Tali’s shoulder and tried to pull her aside. “We…shouldn’t dally,” she said.

Momentarily snapped away from the joyous reunion, Tali turned her head to look at the Pantoran, uneasy concern plastered upon the captain’s features. The next moment, she felt Pib’leni throwing himself against her chest, the small boy surprisingly cold as a shiver ran down her spine.

A shiver of danger.

“We won’t be your slaves,” Pib hissed into her earcone, the pure hatred in the small boy’s voice hot and bitter. The words hurt her, stunned her, leaving her bewildered and confused. The cry of danger shrieked in her mind, but it was too late.

“Vhat…?” Tali managed before a sharp, searing pain stabbed into her gut. And again. And again.

=====

In a darkened interrogation room, Emere Galo sat across from her prisoner. After weeks of hunting and scouring the streets of the Obsidian market, the last of the Daggers had finally been found. The man in front of her, confirmed to be their leader, was smiling at the olive-skinned Arconan. His face was bruised from her “tactics” at gathering information from him. His mouth, a few fewer teeth in it, was bleeding as he chuckled.

“I know you lot weren’t smart enough to have pulled off your assaults on this port, so who funded you?” she asked as she played with the knife in her hand.

“Your kind…" The Human male shook his head in lofty derision. “You always think you’ve got it all figured out. But you haven’t even scratched the surface of the real situation.”

“Quit spouting your nonsense.” Emere threw the knife into the table. It stuck into the wood, right next to the prisoner’s cuffed hands. “I want to know where you got the resources, 'cause it wasn’t from anyone here.”

“Stupid girl,” he responded, before receiving a nasty punch to the face. His nose broke on contact, spilling more blood across the durasteel floors. After the gangster laughed a bit more, his eyes tearing from the pain, he began to speak. “You think the darkness you all love so much will keep you safe? Your time is ending. The Dawn is rising, and there’s not a thing you can do to stop it.”

Before she could respond, Emere was interrupted by the sudden flickering of lights in the room. She walked over to a nearby intercom and hailed the building technicians.

“What’s going on here? What’s wrong with the lights?”

”I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not sure. It’s like a virus is attacking our systems… we’re looking at…failur…shut dow…”

The Arconan mercenary was confused by this series of events. The comm channels were breaking into static noise. As she was distracted, the leader of the Daggers reached quickly for the knife in the table, and Emere dove aside, fearing retaliation. He thrust the blade into his own chest, puncturing his heart and lung in the process. Dropping to the ground, he lay dying with a smile on his face.

“Conclave…your sun will rise…”

Emere gaped at the man’s apparent suicide. She quickly scribbled some notes before running to her superiors.

=====

“Knife!” Eilen shouted suddenly as Pib’leni pulled a vibroknife from his pocket, plunging it into the Twi’lek’s gut with reckless abandon. She moved to pull the murderous boy away from her friend when a slugthrower shot sailed past her head, close enough to rip a knot of fur from her cheek. The half-Bothan’s ears were ringing from the close proximity to the slug.

Leeadra threw herself at the stunned hybrid, pushing her away from the street as a follow-up slug sailed past the space her head had just occupied. The pair tumbled through a shop window and landed heavily amid the shards. Leeadra’s exposed skin was cut from the sharp material.

“Medic!” Leeadra cried out, pulling her saber and activating it with a frantic ‘snap-hiss’. When she looked back at the street, Pib’leni was already gone.

======

Xzehar Lethror frowned as he stared down at the purple Twi’lek from his vantage point. What was the boy thinking? He was supposed to be a mere distraction, yet the chaos created by the stabbing had fouled his shot. This would not be forgiven.

But the targets, the Pantoran female and the half-Bothan, had already taken cover and a few people were gesturing toward the building where he had set up his nest. This attempt had failed, but there were others on his list. He could return for them later…

=====

Tali lay on the cold street and coughed, hand clutching her bleeding gut. She gazed up at the cavernous ceiling and felt nothing. Everything around her was in a haze, sounds distant and muffled, her own body reduced to nothing but a pair of frail heartbeats. One strong, one yet unborn.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

She comprehended nothing. She simply was. She felt cold, but didn’t mind. There was no need.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Shapes moved around her. Gravity shifted. She saw silhouettes of faces, silhouettes she should have recognized, but didn’t. She tried to smile. It hurt.

Thump-thump.

Someone shouted from the bottom of an endless well. She couldn’t hear the words. It didn’t matter anymore.

Thump-

=====

The Clinic
Port Ol’val

The sterile white light bathed the operating room in a painfully bare glow, the pungent waft of antiseptics and iron overpowering to a lesser being. Rhylance, however, was no lesser being. The Chiss observed the patient with an expressionless stare, his vinyl gloved hands still a pristine white, for now.

The Twi’lek was clinging to life by a thread, both her own and her daughter’s. Even heavily sedated and suffering from acute blood loss, the woman clutched her punctured belly with bloodied hands, caressing the ragged skin that leaked amniotic fluids.

“Is ok, Aayoka. Is ok," she spoke the words, over and over past tear-streaked cheeks.

Her parched lips could barely give voice to the words, her eyes clouded over and unresponsive. It wasn’t a conscious act, but instinct that drove her. Motherly instinct.

He paused, knowing full well he did not have the time to spare if he was to save even one of them. There would only be time enough for one, and he knew the mother-to-be would never forgive him for it, but she was more valuable.

“Fear not, Tali,” the Chiss whispered as he picked up a scalpel. “There will always be another time for children.”

=====

A Well-Appointed Apartment
Port Ol’val

Lucine absently sorted through her contacts, pausing periodically to focus her attention on the task. Much as she hated to admit it, the assault on Tali had left her shaken. Fortunately, Rhylance seemed to think the Twi’lek was going to make a full recovery. The baby, however…

She forced her thoughts away from that, and back to the holo-projection of Leeadra. The Captain of the Voidbreaker was making her report. She listened closely to the Pantoran, allowing none of her anxiety to show on her face.

“So, there was a young Twi’lek assailant with a knife, and somebody was shooting at you as well?” she clarified when the Pantoran at last finished speaking.

“Seemed that way,” Lee replied, her image appearing even more diminutive on the holoprojector. Occasionally, the Pantoran’s image flickered and blurred, residual effects of the virus that still plagued their systems.

“This is disturbing to say the least,” the redhead said thoughtfully. “Leeadra, I want all hands on deck on this one. Find the sniper and the Twi’lek, please. We need to stop this before more blood is shed.”

Lee paused, regarding Lucine quizzically. “But where would we even begin looking? We found the sniper’s nest, but they left next to nothing behind.”

“I will see what I can get from my sources,” Lucine said. “Surely someone has seen something.” She heard the quiet footfalls of her butler behind her, but did not turn to acknowledge him. She knew Tabriss well enough to know that he would wait, out of sight, for her to speak. “We hold the loyalty of the rival gangs by the thinnest thread, through fear and intimidation. If they see that we can be hurt, then they will no doubt revolt. I cannot stress this enough, Darling. We must put a stop to this as soon as— “

The Force suddenly screamed a warning, causing her to cut herself off abruptly. Moving purely by instinct, she half-rose to her feet as the sound of shattering glass split the air. She felt a sharp punch to her chest which pushed her back. She stumbled, tripping and falling backward over her chair, which had fallen backward during her sudden movement.

Dimly, Lucine was aware of Tabriss’s shout of surprise, and Lee’s demands to know what was going on. But the sudden pain in her chest and the strange warmth that flowed between her fingers confused her too much to adequately form a reply. Slowly, she pulled her hand from her body and stared in horror at the sticky blood that coated her hand. Realization came suddenly then, echoed by Tabriss’s words as he dropped to his knees beside her, med-kit in hand. “The Aedile has been shot!”

=====

Darkened Office
Present Day
37 ABY

A figure sat in the darkness, illuminated only by the light of his screen. He smiled as he watched the chaos the erupted on Ol’val over and over again. His sniper had missed his mark, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t want them dead, not yet. His message had been received. His aim was becoming clear. Qel-Droma wasn’t as safe on the precious Port as they thought they were.

The Obsidian Daggers had done what they were meant to do. The resources of the Ol’val had been focused on the small time gang within their precious market, and their focus was kept off of him and his organization. Now it was time to come out of the shadows. Their Dusk was at an end.

“Rest easy, Blindman, if you can. You’ll be hearing from the Dawn Conclave yet again.”

Undisclosed Warehouse
Port Ol’val
Dajorra System

The warehouse was largely deserted, most of its workers having gone home for the evening. Most of the illumi-panels had been dimmed, casting the cavernous room in gloomy shadows. In the back corner of the room, a few of the crates and cartons had been pushed aside to make room for a a table, ostensibly used by the workers while they were on break. It was here that five shadowy figures gathered, the glow of datapads and mini-holoprojectors illuminating their faces.

“I commend you all on your hard work,” began Rhylance as he examined the screen of one particular datapad. “This intelligence shall be invaluable in the coming fight.”

“So it is to be a fight, then?” inquired Yumni Ha, a milky-grey Kaminoan who had been responsible for most of the intel in front of them. The faint blue light from the devices made her eyes appear to be even more luminescent than usual.

“Without a doubt,” the Quaestor replied. “This Dawn Conclave attacked us, thinking to beard us in our own den. Fortunately, casualties were kept to a minimum, but the insult cannot be ignored. We will strike back at them and make them suffer.” As he spoke, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, causing the lenses to reflect the light of the datapad.

“Vengeance is a fine idea, but it’s not as if we have a lot to go on,” observed a Human with red-tinged black hair. He extended a pale hand to tap on the interface of the datapad in front of him. “We know who they are, but little else.”

Rhylance regarded Mako steadily for a moment. Mako Henymory was guided by cold logic and ruthlessness; he liked the Human already, as much as he liked anyone.

To Mako’s left stood a gaunt, green-haired Sephi. When she saw Rhylance’s eyes on the Human, she swiveled her reddish-orange eyes toward the Chiss and bared her teeth in challenge. Vestil was feral, chaotic and reckless. The only reason she was even present was because Henymory insisted, and Rhylance was not in the mood to see how many people the Sephi could murder during the course of the meeting.

“We have managed to capture a few of their people, including the Twi’lek boy who stabbed Tali. They will tell us more. But you are correct, we will need more intel before we can sufficiently burn them to the ground.” His crimson eyes swung back toward the Kaminoan. “Yumni, I want you to utilize your unusual contacts to find out as much as you can about them.”

“Such an endeavor might result in considerable expenses. I trust House Qel-Droma will continue to cover my fees?” Yumni replied.

“You will be fairly compensated,” Rhylance replied. The dark-haired Human started to speak up, and the Chiss cut him off. “Yes, Mako, I am aware that you have resources of your own, and I want you to utilize them. However, I have something else in mind for you. It is high time that the House utilized enforcers. The sniper who struck at us was able to get away because the Dawn Conclave embedded loyalists within the port. This must not be allowed to happen again. I want Ol’val secured against any further external threat.”

Mako inclined his head slightly at Rhylance’s words. Vestril did not say anything either, but her opinion was made obvious by her bloodthirsty grin.

“And me?” spoke up the thin, lanky individual who stood a bit away from the table. Luka Zarkot had remained quiet during most of the meeting, but now they favored the group with a cheerful smile.

“You will work with Mako to ensure that the port is secured,” Rhylance replied. “Until my Aedile is recovered, you will all report directly to me. Do you understand your assignments?” When the accumulated people nodded their assent, the Quaestor closed the meeting.

As they went their separate ways, a slender figure clad in black leather melted from the shadows. “Master, it looks like I joined during an interesting time.”

“Indeed you did, Alaisy,” Rhylance said in reply. “Now, gird yourself. With my Aedile temporarily out of commission, I have to see to some of her more distasteful duties, and I would just as soon have you along.”

The Sith leaned forward slightly. “What is it? What will we be doing?”

“We must see to the political side of things,” Rhylance replied with a pained look.

“You want us to steal a ship,” Leeadra said blankly.

“I do indeed, darling,” Lucine replied pleasantly as she tapped on her datapad.

Silence filled the conference room as those present waited for the Aedile to elaborate. Eilen shifted in her small chair, trying to find a comfortable position for her lanky form. Alaisy tapped her nails on the conference table in front of her. Lee suppressed the urge to kick her legs with impatience. Only Emere was still, staring at the redhead unblinkingly.

At last, Leeadra spoke up. “Okay, why?”

Lucine looked up, and a look of surprised crossed her features to see that her words were being questioned. “Well, it is very simple. My contacts indicate that the Dawn Conclave are increasing the number of ships in their possession. Personally, I think this is a fabulous idea, one that we should emulate.”

“Uh… but why steal it? Why can’t we just, you know, buy more ships?”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you blew the House budget on your wardrobe again,” Lee put in. To her left, Alaisy’s eyes widened as she considered how many outfits she herself could buy with access to such funds.

“Oh course not!” Lucine gasped. “I swear, when I get my hands on whomever started that vile rumor—” She hastily cut herself off when she realized that the others were looking on, and took a slow breath.

“The fact is that the Qel-Droma finances are in the black, but just barely,” the Aedile continued at last. “We simply do not have the funds to buy more ships. However, if we were to have a larger fleet we could run more pirating and smuggling operations, thus bringing in more money for the House. Besides, we are a criminal House, are we not? Committing crimes is what we do.”

“Sounds like you’re committed to this idea,” Lee said at last. “What ship are we stealing?”

“A big one,” Lucine replied airily with a wave of her hand. “I do not know, darling, ships are not my forte. I will leave the details to you. But do be careful. We know that the Dawn Conclave is actively expanding their fleet, so you might have some competition for whatever ship you decide to steal. Good luck!”

An Undisclosed Warehouse
Nar Shaddaa

Low-Jack Krimmler suppressed the urge to groan at his sabacc hand before tossing his cards on the pile and shooting a glare at the dealer. He knew that Sticks was stacking the deck somehow, but he simply could not figure out how.

Sticks grinned as he gathered up the cards and began to shuffle. Low-Jack glared at him He was about to make his displeasure known when he saw the Rodian in the corner chugging from a large bottle. “Oy, Trasker! Go easy on that, we gotta job in a few hours!” Though he turned his head to look at Trasker, he kept Sticks within his peripheral vision.

The Rodian took a few more gulps before lowering the bottle to blink muzzily at Low-Jack. “Wha’s tha problem? I’m jus’ startin’ the celebration early!” The Rodian sharpshooter then belched to add emphasis to his point.

“Yeah? Well save if for after the job. I need ya sharp in case we run into trouble,” Low-Jack growled as he picked up his cards. He studied them carefully, before tossing a few more credit chits on the growing pile.

“We all know that job’s gonna be easy peasy, just like all the others,” Sticks put in as he tossed a small handful of chits onto the pile and drew two cards.

Low-Jack shook his head as he stared at his pathetically small pile of chits, and back to his cards. “Yeah, maybe. But I’ve been hearing stuff. Stuff that makes me think this job ain’t gonna be so easy. Word is that the Blindman’s crew are looking to snag the same ships we are.”

Sticks gave a loud guffaw. “As if they had the choobies! And speaking of choobies, you gonna call?”

The human mercenary sighed and pushed his pile of credit chits into the pile. “All the same, I’m expecting all a ya to act professional tonight.” He fixed each of the ten mercenaries in the room with a glare to show how serious he was. “We got a good thing going with the Dawn Conclave, and no one’s gonna kark it up! Got it?”

“Sure, boss, sure,” Sticks replied soothingly “We gotta act right to keep the creds rolling in. You’re gonna need all the coin you can get!” He smirked as he turned over his hand.

Low-Jack cursed and turned over his own cards, which were markedly inferior to his opponent’s. He growled under his breath as Trasker cackled at his misfortune. His laughter was abruptly cut off when the door to their hideout suddenly blew inward, sending twisted metal shrapnel hurtling into the room.

Low-Jack could only barely hear the shouts of his men over the ringing in his ears. Out of reflex, he dived for cover behind a nearby stack of crates. Once in relative safety, he fumbled for his blaster pistol as he peered over the edge of the top-most crate.

A purple Twi’lek in full armor was first into the room. Her face was set in a mask of grim determination and illuminated by the light of a yellow lightsaber. Darrik was nearest to the door and raised his slugthrower to shoot the woman, but she sliced right through him before he could get a shot off.

Two more women strode in after her; one a tall woman clad in a skin-tight black outfit and a Pantoran female who also carried a yellow lightsaber. Low-Jack’s eyes widened when he saw them, realizing that the Blindman’s crew did in fact have the choobies to attack them.

After the bloody battle
An Undisclosed Warehouse
Nar Shaddaa

“Well, that wasn’t very challenging,” Alaisy Tir’eivra said as she swept her eyes over the bodies strewn around the room, searching for any additional threats. When she did not see any, she began twisting her electro-whip into a tight coil.

“Vell, ve’re not done yet,” Tali Sroka replied. “Spreadt out. Remember, ve’re looking for a metal box, thirty centimeters square.”

The three women fanned out to achieve their objective. While Alaisy and Tali searched the room, Leeadra picked up a can of paint and sprayed the Blindman’s mark on the wall. They wanted the Dawn Conclave to know exactly who was responsible.

“Foundt it!” Tali said at last, holding the container aloft.

“Great, then let’s get back to the rest of the team,” Lee said as she hopped off the stool she had used to give herself extra height. “We’ve got some ships to steal.”

The docks were silent, given the late hour. Not even the guards that were supposed to patrol were present, having been previously paid off to be absent for a few hours. The Dawn Conclave had thoroughly prepared for the heist, and the Arconans were all too willing to capitalize on those preparations.

As Tali, Alaisy and Lee strode among the rows of docked ships, others melted out of the shadows to join them. The team had been handpicked for this job, just enough people to work as a skeleton crew for the flight of CR25 Troop Carriers.

At last, they found their targets. The four CR25 Troop Carriers stood near the end of the docks, powered down and dark, their crews gone for the evening. Upon seeing them, Alaisy smiled with appreciation. “Nice,” she murmured as she took in the dark hulls’ of the ships.

The counterfeit identification chits worked like a charm, further proof of the level of preparation that the Dawn Conclave had devoted to their task. Within a few minutes, the ships were powered up. One by one, they lifted off of the dock and ascended into the atmosphere.

The Docks
Port Ol’val

“Excellent, excellent work!” Lucine said for the hundredth time. Her smile was brilliant as she toured the new ships with Tali, Alaisy and Leeadra in tow. “These ships will go a long way toward building our smuggling fleet. And they all have so much closet space! Well done!”

“How many of those closets do you think she vill commandeer?” Tali murmured to Lee under her breath.

“Probably all of them? Who knows?” the Pantoran replied in a sotto voice. The Twi’lek suppressed a smirk as she saw a familiar Chiss approaching their group.

“Indeed, it was very well done,” Rhylance said as he drew nearer.

“Rhylance, where have you been? You were supposed to be here an hour ago,” Lucine fixed the Quaestor with a glare. “Please do not tell me that you were holed up in your lab all this time.”

“Not this time, my dear,” Rhylance replied. “I have just returned from Selen.”

“What were you doing there?” Leeadra asked.

“Making the final arrangements. I have just been named Proconsul,” the Chiss replied with a smirk.

Silence fell over the group as they absorbed what he had said. Lee glanced at Lucine. Though the redhead’s smile was fixed on her face, her eyes blazed with emerald fire. The Pantoran grimaced, realizing what was about to happen. She grabbed Tali and Alaisy by the arm and dragged them away. “We don’t want to be here for this.”

“You WHAT?!” Lucine’s shriek of outrage was almost ear piercing. The trio needed no further impetus to turn and hurry away.

Quaestor’s Quarters
Port Ol’val
37 ABY

This was it. Finally. All that she’d been waiting for for so very long.

Lucine Vasano ran her hands along the smooth, supple Nerf leather of the Quaestor’s chair and did her best to stifle a shiver of bliss. It had taken a bit of adjusting after the initial news about Rhylance’s advancement, but she’d like to think she had taken it well, all things considered, and now all of this was hers – at last.

The office around her had beheld so many difficult decisions, this chair so many weighty names; and now it was her turn. What great challenges would still lie ahead of her? What monumental tasks would she be called upon to tackle and tame?

Well, there was one in particular. One she’d been aware of the day Rhylance had been summoned to serve as the Consul’s right-hand man. Her own replacement.

“More tea, Mistress Vasano?” the polite tones of Tabriss, her Chiss manservant, interjected. She gave no recognition to his words, but he filled her cup anyway before departing to dust off the dark corners of her new office.

Spread across the hardwood desk were the profiles of her House membership. Capable individuals, in their own particular ways. But she knew this was an opportunity. It was her first act as Quaestor and whomever she named as her own second-in-command would come to define her career.

Hours dragged on, Tabriss dutifully keeping the tea cup topped, before Lucine finally made her decision. It would be best for the Clan, for the House – and for her.

=====

Ready Room
Port Ol’val
37 ABY

“Darlings, I am so pleased to see you all again,” Lucine smiled her best amicable smile as the colorful personalities of Battleteam Voidbreaker filtered into the circular conference room.

“As are we all to see someone so capable in charge,” Cymbre Kall said with a muted, yet elegant grin.

Lucine studied the flattering remark for a moment, but acknowledged it with a minute nod and the faintest of smiles before pressing on.

“As you are all aware, Rhylance has taken on other duties at the Consul’s behest and I have been selected as his worthy replacement –” she turned her gaze to Alaisy Tir’eivra and shot her a poignant look that seemed to scream ‘Yes I am, now shut up!’, before returning to her message. “– and that means we are in need of a new Aedile.”

There were some murmurs around the room, some approving, others ambitious. Lucine recognized that tone. She’d been intimately acquainted with it for so long herself.

“To that end, I am proud to present to you the exceptional individual to replace me in my old post, Tali Sroka.”

The murmurs came to an abrupt halt and all eyes turned to the purple Twi’lek. She rose calmly from her seat and stepped up next to the Quaestor.

“Vhatever the House demandts,” she stated in a monotone to rival that of a Kaminoan.

“Splendid! That’s the spirit,” Lucine replied enthusiastically through a picture perfect Trandoshan smile. “And to celebrate the occasion, I’m giving you all the week off!” she declared with a hint more genuine enthusiasm.

A resounding cheer coursed through the assembled, even as Leeadra Halcyon stood up to her full height of not-that-much, and tried to shout over the commotion. “But I had pla–”

“WEEK OFF!” came the combined shout of her Battleteam who proceeded to vacate the premises with all the elegance of a stampeding herd of Banthas.

Sitting down, the defeated Pantoran grumbled to herself. “I’m getting too old for this kark…”

Captain’s Ready Room
The Voidbreaker
Dajorra System

“Okay, so I think that’s about it,” Leeadra said as she swept a cerulean hand in the air over the captain’s desk. The surface was covered in a wide array of flimisplasts and datapads, stacked to an impressive and precarious height. “Everything you could possibly want to know about being captain of the Voidbreaker.”

Emere Galo fought the urge to bury her head in her hands as she considered the sheer amount of information Leeadra had imparted upon her over the past few weeks. The responsibility of the smooth running of the ship fell squarely on her shoulders. She could feel the burden settling there, and began to understand why the diminutive Pantoran had looked so stressed all the time. “It seems thorough,” she said at last.

“Yep,” Lee replied. “I’m pretty sure almost every contingency is covered somewhere.” She paused, noticing the apprehension on Emere’s face. “The regular crew knows what they need to do to keep the ship running. Listen to their advice and you should be okay. And, if all else fails, don’t forget that you’ve got your own private bar.” She glanced at the fully stocked bar for emergencies. It’s helped me out more than once.”

Emere turned her eyes to the cabinet that was heavily laden with a wide assortment of various high-end liquors. She suspected that she would be getting to know its contents very well. “All right.”

“Ready to do this?” Lee asked at last.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Emere replied. She followed Leeadra out the door of the ready room, and down the shaft that lead to the bridge of the ship.

“Captain on the bridge!” Their arrival was heralded by Brett Formian, the Officer on Watch. At his words, most of the crew rose to their feet to stand at attention.

Emere gave a small nod of approval of the formality, but Lee appeared embarrassed. “Most of the officers here are on loan from the Arconan Expeditionary Force,” she explained in an undertone. “I’ve told them they don’t have to be so formal, but old habits die hard.” The diminutive Pantoran then turned her attention to the crew. “It’s been great, folks. But as you know, I’m relinquishing command, as of now. Captain Galo, you now have command.”

Emere nodded her head slightly. Lee had explained the process of handing off command ahead of time, and so she had been expecting it. The crewmembers were now looking at her, waiting for her command. She cleared her throat, before saying, “As you were.”

At her words, the crew returned to their duties, and Lee grinned. “See? You’ve got this.”

“Sure,” Emere said in reply.

“Chatty as always,” the Pantoran said as she patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. I think it’s time for me to take a bit of R and R. Why not get settled in?”

Emere nodded and took her leave of Leeadra. She returned to the ready room and settled at the desk to once more stare at the pile of information that awaited her. Though it was not technically her first stint in leadership, it was definitely a new experience. She considered grabbing a drink before looking through the information once more.

As the thought crossed her mind, the console in the center of the desk flared to life, revealing the face of a familiar redhead. “Well, it appears the handoff went smoothly,” she said by way of greeting.

“You were watching?” Emere asked, though she was not surprised. The Quaestor seemed to have eyes everywhere, and made no secret of it.

“Of course, darling! Watching you assume command for the first time? I would not miss it. It was a proud moment for me,” Lucine replied brightly.

“Uh huh,” was Emere’s dry response. She raised an eyebrow at the pair of dark glasses that the redhead was wearing, despite the fact that it appeared that she was sitting in her office. “Nice glasses,” she said, trying to hide a smirk. Doesn’t she know that only assholes wear sunglasses indoors?

Lucine took a moment to adjust them, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Why thank you! They are the latest thing, and everyone in the upper Summit is wearing them! I am so glad you like them, because pairs will be arriving for you and all the other members of the Voidbreaker shortly!”

“A uniform change?” Emere asked.

“Oh no, nothing that extreme. Merely a helpful tool. The glasses have a number of handy features, including a steady stream of the latest verified DIA intel projected on the periphery of the lenses. I think you will find the glasses to be most helpful in the days to come,” Lucine replied.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, that is the problem, darling. We are not entirely certain at this time. All of our intel indicates that something big is coming, but the details are hazy. We know it will be some sort of conflict, perhaps even a war,” the redhead explained.

“A war?” Emere repeated, feeling a thrill go up her spine. “Against who?”

“Unfortunately, we do not have any reliable data about who the conflict will be against, so we must be prepared for anything. As of right now, vacations are canceled. All members of Voidbreaker and House Qel-Droma are to remain in high alert and make all necessary preparations for the upcoming conflict. I know I can count on you to see this through. Arcona Invicta!”

Lucine did not wait for a response. The console screen went blank, leaving Emere alone with her thoughts. “Arcona Invicta,” she said to the empty room.

The Abeona stalled her engines and powered down her weapons in a show of submission. From the bridge of the Voidbreaker, Captain Emere Galo gave a quiet sigh of relief. The crew of the battered G9 Rigger-class Light Freighter had put up a significant fight, much more than anyone had expected. Still, the Voidbreaker’s superior firepower and maneuverability had won the day. Their prize would be whatever cargo The Abeona was carrying.

“Have the away team ready to board, but keep the weapons on standby,” Emere ordered. She clasped her hands behind her back as she regarded the relatively still merchant vessel with a pensive look. She didn’t like the idea of sending an away team to board the vessel, but it was necessary to secure the cargo. She simply had to hope that the team would be able to handle it if the crew of The Abeona got feisty.

=====

“Away team, prepare to board in 10.”

The voice of Brett Formian, the Officer on Duty, echoed off of the duralium-enforced walls, causing the people gathered there to look up.

“It looks like it’s our turn, Master,” the newly Knighted Aru Law said, as his hand went reflexively to the freshly made lightsaber that hung from his belt.

“Indeed it is, Apprentice,” Alaisy Tir’eivra replied. She was already wearing her helmet. The voice modulator in her armor made her ordinarily sweet-sounding voice into a deep growl. “I do hope they have a little fight left in them.” Even with the modulation, her voice carried a note of grim anticipation.

“They probably will, Master! It seems like all of the merchant ships in this sector have had extra mercenaries on board. It’s almost like they’re expecting trouble,” he said.

Beside him, Aru’s droid Tinker gave a rapid series of chirps that drew a smile from the Knight. “No, there’s no need for you to make coffee now. We’ll save it for after we get back,” he told the droid.

Tinker started to respond, but a series of deep booms cut the droid short. The deck beneath their feet vibrated ominously with each percussion. “What was that?” Aru asked.

=====

“What was that?” Emere demanded.

“Ma’am! A ship just came out of hyperspace to our starboard side and deployed missiles!” The viewscreen flashed, showing an image of the offending ship. It was a Combat Hammerhead Corvette, and it appeared that its weapons were trained directly on the Voidbreaker. Emere’s eyes narrowed as she saw the sigil of the Dawn Conclave emblazoned on the hull.

“Any damage?” she asked.

“None. It appears they were warning shots.”

The communications officer spoke up, “The Corvette is attempting to hail us.”

“First they attack and then they want to talk?” Emere muttered in irritation. “Fine, patch them through. And in the meantime, I want all weapons directed at that ship. Battlestations, people, now!”

The officers on the bridge leapt into action, making the necessary preparations to return the Voidbreaker to battle-ready status. Meanwhile the image of the ship vanished, only to be replaced by the visage of a smug-looking Human male. He peered at Emere through watery blue eyes and parted the massive folds of his face in an insouciant smile. “Ah, you must be Captain Galo!”

“Yeah, that’s me. Who the hell are you and why are you shooting at my ship?” Emere demanded. Not that she really cared, she just wanted to give her crew enough time to get ready for the fight.

“My name is Jarlow Crewe, and I am the captain of The Illustrious and lieutenant of the Dawn Conclave. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

“No,” Emere growled.

The portly man gave a sniff of disdain. “No matter. As for your second question, our initial shots were a warning. That ship and its contents now belong to us. But to thank you for subduing it for us, I shall graciously allow you to live.”

“You can graciously sod off,” Emere replied.

“Charming,” Jarlowe replied with a smirk. “Be that as it may, anything other than an immediate withdraw on your part will be met with force. You are outgunned, outmanned and outclassed. We will blow you and your ship directly to hell. Decide quickly, Captain. I want to have that ship looted and be home in time for tea.”

The holoscreen grew dark as Crewe cut the connection, before returning to the image of The Illustrious. Galo ground her teeth for a moment, before looking to Formian. “Well?”

“He’s not wrong,” the Twi’lek replied. “They do outgun us.”

“And we’re already beaten up from the fight with The Abeola,” Emere muttered. “Great, just great.”

“What are your orders, Captain?” Formian asked.

The seconds ticked by as Emere considered her options. They could try to fight, and at the moment there was nothing she wanted more than to wipe the smirk right off Crewe’s pompous face. But in their current state, the outcome was far from certain. Finally, she sighed. “Give the order to retreat.”

=====

“This is an outrage! How dare they raid ships within range of Ol’val!” Lucine paced the length of the meeting room, clearly annoyed by the report. “Those are our ships to raid!”

“I had to withdraw. We were too beaten up following the fight with The Abeona,” Emere said defensively.

“Nobody blames you. You hadt to make a tough call,” Tali said from behind a veritable stack of flimsiplasts and datadisks. It seemed that the paperwork had only piled up during the war. “You kept your crew safe, and that vas a smart move.”

“And now we know why they were so heavily armed and put up such a fight. It seems the Dawn Conclave has been raiding in this area while we were distracted by the war,” Aru put in. He and Alaisy had been invited to the meeting to add their input, as they were aboard the Voidbreaker when the attack came.

“They’ve mostly been targeting ships bound for Ol’val, but they’ve also been hitting the legitimate merchant ships as well,” Alaisy growled through her voice modulator.

“The sheer audacity of it…” Lucine grumbled. “It seems like Ol’val is being invaded, overrun or infiltrated every other week! Why do we not have defenses against this sort of thing?”

Silence filled the room as the others looked from one to another. Finally, Tali spoke. “I don’t know, Quaestor. Vhy don’t ve have defenses against that sort of thing?”

Lucine did not deign to respond to her Aedile’s question. Instead, she continued to pace the office with a thunderous look on her face. A moment later and the scowl cleared, as she went to her desk and began to sort through the piles of paperwork and datapads until she found a specific one. She tapped the interface, and pulled up a catalogue of ships. “This shall be rectified immediately. As soon as Kordath and Zujenia’s wedding is over, I want every member of the House to turn their attention to the task of improving Ol’vals defenses.”

“Your response is to go shopping?” Alaisy asked. It was impossible to tell if her modulated voice held amusement or dismay.

“Well, it does always make me feel better,” the redhead replied with a smile. “And this time, it is a necessary expense. And then, once the port is suitably well defended,” her smile turned cold, “we can turn our attention to paying the Dawn Conclave back in full for this humiliation.”

Launch Bay 5
Port Ol’val
37 ABY

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” Yumni Ha stated as the group of Qel-Dromans walked past the ranks of freshly arrived A and B-wings, their hulls gleaming like polished chrome under the work lights of the low ceiling. Two squadrons of additional firepower, capable of reacting on short notice to any possible threat the Voidbreaker or other Qel-Droman asset might find itself facing, were being integrated into a covert launching bay hollowed out from a portion of the asteroid base’s interior.

“They appear very pristine,” Lucine Vasano agreed, maintaining a certain air of disinterest while so close to the woman she’d paid to broker them these particular fighters without too many niggling traces.

“I’m sure they vill be of great help in making sure the Shadowport von’t keep spontaneously combusting from infiltrating rebels and saboteurs,” Tali Sroka stated, with a bit more honesty than the Quaestor.

The Kaminoan’s expression remained as inscrutable as ever while she carried on with the inspection tour, letting the esteemed bill-payers have a good look at the merchandise they’d just shelled out millions of credits for.

“Shame they didn’t come in black,” Alaisy Tir’eivra mused as she ran a latex-clad hand along the smooth side of a parked A-wing. “I could see myself enjoying them much more that way.”

“W-wonder if they’ll fit a, uh, taller pilot…” Eilen Jath muttered, the tall half-Selonian eyeing the same craft with no small amount of piloting desire.

“I think the B-wings could squeeze two inside,” Leeadra Halcyon winked. “Wonder how that gyro-stabilization works in high-G motions…”

Eilen almost bumped her head on a low hanging light while trying, and failing, to process the mischievous Pantoran’s proposition.

“I agree, these are far more exciting,” Aru Law commented, already standing atop a B-wing and peering inside the cockpit. The sheer amount of firepower crammed inside the small spaceframe made his hands itch with desire to take it out for a spin and reduce the surrounding asteroid field by a few tons.

Standing squatly beside the fighter, ‘Tinker’, his R2-unit, squarbled something in binary, clearly pouting at the lack of proper astromech viewports like on an X-wing or N1.

“Yes yes, I’m not ditching you. Just calm your servos and take a look at those proton torpedo launchers!” he hollered back, head halfway down the torpedo magazine.

“All items accounted for, in full, and on time. Please sign here,” Yumni stated in the professional manner she prided herself for and handed Lucine a datapad.

The Quaestor felt like contesting at least something about the whole order, but the Kaminoan was infuriatingly pedantic in such matters, everything had been delivered precisely according to her requests. She signed the pad with a flourish and handed it back to Yumni, who bowed politely and left the Qel-Dromans to enjoy their new toys.

“Vell, at least ve’ll have some teeth to bite back next time the Dawn Conclave comes knocking,” Tali sighed, watching with muted amusement as the membership of Battleteam Voidbreaker took to their new charges with varying levels of intrigue.

“Indeed, I was always hoping to leave Ol’val in a better shape than it was given to me,” Lucine agreed.

“You’ll still have plenty of time to shore up its defences, Quaestor,” Tali replied with dry amusement.

“…”

The Twi’lek turned to face the redhead, who kept staring at the people she’d come to cherish as her fr—minions. A speck of dust, surely from the recent excavations, caught her eye and demanded wiping away.

“Is there something I’m not aware of, Lucine?” Tali pressed, seeing the woman’s hesitance to reply.

“Yes,” she coughed to clear her throat. “A fair bit, in fact,” she thought to herself before replying. “There are going to be some changes in Arcona, and I fear we both shall be part of them…”

Quaestor’s Office
Port Ol’val
Late 37 ABY

Tali was starting to regret her new post. Buried under an avalanche of flimsiplast—a flimsiplastilanche—she was being asked to handle the administrative functions of the surprisingly large operation which was House Qel-Droma, and at the moment, she was doing so alone.

Things had changed rapidly as of late, with Lucine taking up a more permanent residence in the Citadel what with her being Consul and all, and Emere Galo’s resignation from captaining the Voidbreaker had left the lekhead in a rather untenable position. With heaps of day-to-day duties piling up at her admittedly plus-sized desk, the Twi’lek was finding herself way beyond her depth and keeping the rapscallions that made up the House membership in line was proving to be a chore.

“Do you require assistance, Quaestor?” a familiar monotone inquired from the doorway.

Tali looked up from her mountain of sisyphean flimsi at the palid white face of the ever so helpful Kaminoan, Yumni Ha. The trader had come to be under very good terms with House Qel-Droma whenever credits were to exchange hands and Tali was under no illusion that it was precisely that which motivated her presence once again.

“Vhat do you vant, Yumni?” Tali sighed, dreading another addition to the mountain range.

“Two things, Quaestor. Firstly, the outstanding reimbursements from House Qel-Droma to the Arconan Logistics and Shipping Company are overdue by a margin so considerable, it is starting to put a strain on the amicable relations established by your predecessor.”

Tali gave her a blank stare and blinked, twice.

“Your payments are overdue,” the Kaminoan helpfully clarified. She’d recently come to be a bit better at her social interactions.

“Right, yes. I think I hadt the bills somewhere in here…” Tali muttered as she began to shuffle through the flimsi mountains. “Andt the secondt thing?”

“Advice, if I may.”

“Advice? Always pay my bills on time?”

“Well, yes, but also a lesson in delegation. You see, despite my admitted preference to maintaining myself in the loop of ALaS Co’s daily affairs, an operation like that would not run as smoothly as it does were it solely my responsibility to manage. To that end, I’ve taken great pains to find the most suitable, or failing that, least un-suitable candidates to run several of the minor logistics hubs for me; in short Delegation.”

“Soo…?”

“You are clearly struggling to complete the tasks assigned to you, which is no wonder, as before there were three people doing them. Find yourself good people and trust them to shoulder some of the burden.”

Tali looked at the woman with minor shock. It must have been the first time she heard the Kaminoan use a word like trust. She’d honestly not known if it even was in her vocabulary.

“I’dt love to, but all this…” She gestured widely at her desk.

“…Can wait until you have made your hirings. Otherwise, you will never have time. Trust me, bureaucracy will always find a way to outpace any single clerk.”

There it was again, trust. Tali thought about it for a moment and sighed, bowing her head in acceptance.

“Very vell, you make a goodt point, Yumni.”

“I usually do,” Yumni said without a hint of smugness, her deadpan delivery incapable of such nuance.

=====

The Quaestor’s chambers had been cleared of paperwork for the moment, the mountains of flimsi stored safely in voluminous cupboards rated to withstand high-yield administrative loads. Standing before the large desk stood two people, one familiar to the Twi’lek, the other less so.

They were, as Yumni had put it, the most suitable.

Karran Val’teo, a Zabrak previously serving House Galeres, stood tall and confident to her left of the two, his expression expectant. To the Twi’lek’s eye, she found something resembling her former apprentice, Sera Kaern, in him and a few exchanged words with her had indeed confirmed that Sera had left her mark on him. As had the other person beside him.

Alaisy Tir’eivra, for her part, was even taller and bedecked, as per usual, in glossy latex from neck to toe, with her head concealed behind a mirror-faced almond shaped helmet. Had she not seen her take it off once or twice before, Tali might have assumed she was either a statue, or a droid of some sort. A very particular type of droid, Tali thought with mild revulsion.

“Thank you both for accepting these postings, House Qel-Droma needts competent leaders now more than ever,” Tali began and slid a pair of badges over the counter, one for each.

“I assure you, Quaestor, I will bring the Voidbreaker back in line. Give me two weeks, and she’ll be running like a well oiled machine,” Karran spoke confidently as he picked up his badge of office.

Tali gave him a strained smile. Clearly, he had no idea what he was getting himself into, but at least he had confidence. That had to count for something, right?

“I am honored by your trust, Quaestor,” Alaisy stated in turn, her voice a somewhat disturbingly synthetic drone from the modulator hidden in her helmet. “And I look forward to working with you. I am sure we will do many great things together.”

Tali couldn’t quite decide whether the modulation made that last bit more or less creepy.

“Vell then, since you both are so rearing to go, let me present you vith your first task.”

Both freshly-minted leaders adjusted their poises ever so slightly as Tali tapped her datapad. With a warble of Binary, a pair of R2 units entered the office, each hauling after them a small repulsor sled upon which, neatly packed, were a cubic meter of flimsiplast.

“Velcome to Qel-Droma,” Tali sighed.

House Qel-Droma Headquarters
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

Sounds of hydrotools, vibrosaws and the infernal clanking of hammers echoed in the hallways around the gathered Qel-Dromans, flecks of dust and chips of stone falling from the rough ceiling as construction teams continued setting up their new base. Tali stood beside a hologram of the Shadowport, trying to time her briefing to when the sounds of drilling abated.

“Alright, ve’ve almost clearedt out the Dawn Conclave from our home, but they still holdt a few strongpoints. The oldt service dockyardt at the very bottom of Ol’val, a part of the housing district, andt a portion of the mining tunnels are still no-go for our allies. Once ve retake those, Ol’val vill be secure once more.”

For the better part of a year, they’d been fighting back against the insurgency orchestrated by the elusive Dawn Conclave, a rival criminal syndicate that had launched a devastating assault on their home and almost succeeded in routing them. But now, the tides of war had turned and with the new starfighters of Aurabesh Prime and Butcher squadrons to assist them, and the resources gained from the Voidbreaker’s increased pirate activities, they had their enemy on the ropes. All that remained was the knock-out punch.

“So, what plan do you propose to finish them?” Karran Val’teo, Battleteam Voidbreaker’s newly-minted leader inquired. “Taking out that small remnant shouldn’t prove a problem.”

“They may be small, but all the more vicious for it,” Leeadra Halcyon stated pensively.

“I, uh, agree. Cornered beasts can be desperate,” Eilen Jarth added in support of her girlfriend.

“Then we’d best not tell them they’re being cornered,” Alaisy Tir’eivra stated with a hint of modulated sadism, her face obscured by the mirror sheen of her helmet.

“Agreedt,” Tali nodded and pointed back at the holomap. “After last veek’s successful hit on the Nautolan, they shouldt only have one more lieutenant left. Unfortunately, ve don’t know anything about them, except a name: Geldi. Once they are gone, vhatever cohesion they have left vill likely crumble.”

She pivoted the hologram to show the underside of the Ol’val asteroid, especially the old service dockyard left by the original mining operation, and nodded at her Aedile.

“They’ve been getting small shipments of weapons through here,” Alaisy began. “Although Aurabesh Prime has been working overtime in intercepting their shipments, it is not unlikely they couldn’t try to extract themselves that way when we turn up the heat. To that end, we will keep the Voidbreaker on increased stand-by so when they do run, we can intercept and block their escape. I trust you can manage that, Captain?” Her words pointed at Karran.

“Of course, ma’am,” the Zabrak smirked back. “Though, one small question. If we are to keep the Voidbreaker on stand-by, who’s going to hunt down this Geldi fellow?”

There was a moment’s silence as the Twi’lek and helmeted Human exchanged glances.

“Erm, yes. Excellent point, Captain Val’teo…” Tali stammered.

An awkward moment of silence descended.

“Maybe,” a voice sounded from the back row, “you could wait a little with offing this Geldi person? We just find out who they are and then, one-two,” she slapped her hands, “we blast them, scoot ‘round in the Voidbreaker and grab the fleeing mynocks in a crossfire. Yeah?”

An uncomfortable number of eyes had turned towards the Zygerrian, a recent addition to the vessel’s complement, who was shuffling a deck of Sabacc.

“Umh, that might vork, yes. Thank you, uh,” Tali tried to remember her name. It was something—Ziggurat. “Zigrahan?”

The woman’s expression told her it was not that.

“Just call me Zig,” Zig replied.

=====

Ol’val Docks
Port Ol’val

The banged up freighter barely made it to its berth before the ill-maintained thruster banks gave out and it slammed hard on its landing gear. The sound of its impactful arrival caused some looks, but such appearances were not uncommon in a place like Ol’val. By the time the pilot had managed to fix the hydraulics leak that had sprung up from the landing, a lone passenger had already made her way off the transport.

Short in stature and clad in a simple cloak that covered her from head to heel, only the glint of facial markings betrayed her as a Mirialan. She observed the state of the port with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, having clearly expected something greater. Nevertheless, she sat about towards the cantina to refresh her parched mouth, muttering into the lapel of her cloak a single phrase.

“I’ve arrived.”

Kas Tunnels
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

Heavy robotic drills lay dormant in the asteroid dirt that was strewn around the area leading towards the Kas Tunnels. Large shells of durasteel had been bolted onto the ceilings in order to reinforce the new routes. One of the workers dusted off his hands and another threw her construction helmet back into the cockpit of her repulsor crane, ready to take a well deserved caf break.

“I hope it was worth all the durasteel,” Alaisy Tir’eivra grumbled through her voice modulator, her mask’s visor reflecting the harsh stablights illuminating the worksite.

“It vill be, having a new route through the Kas Tunnel pays off in starship hulls savedt,” Tali Sroka muttered, scanning over her datapad. “This vay, ve’ll be sure to attract more sane merchants to set up shop on Ol’val. Although the suicidal ones didt have pretty goodt merchandise.”

Crackling of obsidian rock betrayed the heavy footsteps of the incoming horned Captain Val’teo.

“I’ve sent off Eilen and Aru to test out the new route, they seemed eager enough to take our new toys out,” Karran bolstered, more scarred and bruised than ever before.

A hiss of air escaped the Aediles mask and in response the Zabrak turned his head at the tall Sith, swearing he could’ve heard her sigh.

“The Voidbreaker crew has hadt their hands full as of late, I’ve readt the report on the creature you’ve encounteredt, vill it keep medical insurance in check?” the Quaestor asked.

“We slew the beast and retrieved the cargo from Kashyyyk, no casualties.”

The latex clad woman crossed her arms, rolling her eyes.

“You are fortunate to still be alive Captain, if it were not for the extreme competence of our crew you would have been part of the Tarentatek’s digestive system. Zig’s creative use of explosives and Sera Kaern’s ability to enhance our prowess in combat through the Force were some of the drives that prevented total disaster.”

“Yeah, they handled themselves under pressure. Seems my training is starting to pay off,” the heavily-bandaged Zabrak mused to the utter incredulity of his superiors.

“Anyway,” Tali moved along with a muted cough to clear her throat, “how are you faring in ridding our home of the Dawn Conclave?”

“Errr, yes,” Karran replied.

There was a pause. It dragged on, uncomfortably so.

“May I suggest you redirect your focus upon the tasks laid out by your direct superiors?” Alaisy’s modulated voice finally broke the silence.

“Yes, but the Consul’s orders…”

“I know, I know,” Tali sighed and rubbed her temples. “Lucine made it frustratingly clear that ve needt to get those deals done. Honestly, she shouldt just focus on dealing vith the Principate andt not have us try to act as diplomats.”

“We did manage to get us close to a deal with Kyrellius…” Karran began, but was silenced by a withering glare from the Twi’lek.

“I vill make this as monosyllabic as possible, Captain. Ve. Do. Not. Deal. Vith. Slavers.”

“I think the last word had more than one syl—” Alaisy began, but shut up upon realizing this probably wasn’t the time nor place.

Karran sighed and nodded dejectedly. “We’ll see what we can do to remedy that.”

“Make sure you do. House Qel-Droma may not exactly be overburdenedt by morals, but there are some lines ve do not cross.”

“Anything else, Quaestor, or can I return to the Voidbreaker?” Karran asked with a breathless sigh of exasperation.

“That is all, Captain,” Tali nodded, and turned towards the quickly growing hum of sublight engines as Eilen and Aru raced through the renovated Kas Tunnel in their borrowed A- and B-wings. Tali just hoped neither would try spinning. Even in the now more spacious approach, it was decidedly not a good trick.

===

Portside Cantina
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

“…but since then the Blind Man’s been securin’ his territory, pushin’ back the rivals, gettin’ everyone to play reeal nice together, ya see?” the Besalisk bartender chuckled with a superfluous wink. “Things looked pretty hairy, won’t lie. Whole place was a bloody warzone! But, like ‘im or hate ‘im, the Blind Man’s got a way of making things work out in his favor.”

The cloaked Mirialan nodded, nursing a cup of local brew she’d barely touched. Her focus was on far more important things, such as the long-winded tale the bored barkeep had lavished her with.

“So, if I understood it correctly,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “what you’re saying is, Ol’val had a power struggle against a well-prepared foreign invader, and they managed to beat them back?”

The Besalisk gave her a look somewhere between bemusement and surprise.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” he chuckled and went on to clean a pair of pints at once.

The Mirialan was left to her thoughts as she dragged the back of a singular digit against her chin.

“So the stories were true…”

Edge of Dawn Conclave Territory
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

Finally! He’d been itching for this moment, and now he finally had the chance to exact his revenge. Geldi suppressed the urge to scratch at the stump of his right arm as he made his way towards a secluded warehouse at the edges of his dwindling turf, escorted by a handful of his finest.

It had taken them some doing, but they’d managed to capture the Rat, the Zabraki schutta who’d sliced off his arm mere weeks ago. Now, he could finally exact some long overdue revenge and send a message to the so-called ‘Blind Man’ that the Dawn Conclave was far from beaten! Once they received the bloody picts of the horn-headed woman, they’d think twice about sending their lackeys into his domain.

The door to the warehouse opened with a hiss, an almost Wookiee-sized Togorian stepping aside to allow his passage, before resuming his guard by the entrance after his security had joined him. A cloaked agent awaited his arrival, the Zabraki woman tied to a durasteel chair with electrocuffs wrapped around her ankles and wrists. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Ah, we meet again, Rat,” Geldi gloated, flashing a set of predatory teeth as he let his disguise melt away. The Human who’d entered soon shed the last remains of his soft skin and clear blue eyes, exposing the clammy pale green skin and sickly yellow irises of a Clawdite.

The bloodied Zabrak raised her head towards him, defiant even through her bruised lips and swollen eyelid.

“Missed me that much, Geldi?” Sera Kaern spat back, quite literally.

He side-stepped the propelled phlegm with ease, closing the distance and delivering a sharp jab with his remaining arm into her gut. The Zabrak grunted, but did not flinch.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he hissed into her ear.

“Not, as much as we…” Sera croaked back through gritted teeth.

FZZZZ-ZIP!

The dreaded sounds of lightsabers activating in unison and cutting through tender flesh sent chills down Geldi’s spine. As he peered around his shoulder in panic, he saw his bodyguard slumping to the floor all around him as cloaked agents with ignited sabers in hand surrounded him.

“Surrender, andt ve von’t have to use violence,” one of the cloaked figures stated coldly.

He very much preferred the violence, but against such odds, he had no hope. He raised his remaining arm in surrender. Sera chuckled to herself as the restraints deactivated and she rose up beside him, the injuries on her face starting to fade as the illusion wore off.

“I almost feel sorry for you,” she told the Clawdite, before driving her knee in his belly with enough force to make him double over. “‘Cus you punch like a boy.”

===

HQD HQ
Port Ol’val

“I’m not telling you anything, you hear? You caught me, great for you, but there will be another, and another. Until you are flushed out of this place like the vermin that you are!” Geldi shouted in impotent defiance.

Across the interrogation room table, his outburst was met by the impassive mirror sheen of a bulbous helmet and little else.

“I assure you, we have ways of making you talk,” the faceless figure stated, her voice a distorted synthetic sound that grated the Clawdite’s ears.

“Do your worst, I’ve been trained to resist your mind games,” he growled bitterly.

“Impressive,” the woman agreed, perhaps mockingly. It was difficult to be certain. “But have your men?”

Geldi’s eyes went wide in horror as the implication dawned on him.

“You see, the trouble with not having a single face, is that nobody can ever be quite sure who you are,” the Shiny Sith stated, “Not even your own troops.”

She placed a datapad on the table and let him witness the grainy holovid of a Dawn Conclave outpost letting “himself” and his “bodyguard” pass in without a fight—with predictably macabre consequences.

“I suggest you start talking,” the woman continued, “While you still are of some use to us.”

===

“We can’t hold ‘em! We shut the blast doors, but they’re still coming through! They’re still comin-AAAARGH!”

The crackling link was cut and the sounds of the strongpoint’s demise were mercifully muted from the remaining Dawn Conclave staff’s ears. The mood in the command center was bleak, the tension so heavy it could be cut with a vibroknife.

“Blast it! Where’s Geldi when we need him?” one of the officers grunted, punctuating her frustration with a fist to the table.

“He went off after that schutta that cut his arm, if he’s not returned by now…” another stated, leaving the implication hanging.

“Then, what are our options?” a third inquired.

“We still have some troops left and with the fresh shipments of guns and explosives, we can make a last stand here,” the woman stated, tracing a perimeter on the holomap with her finger.

“And if they breach it?”

“We blow the charges,” she replied.

A cold stillness settled in the room. Only the humm of ventilation could be heard—and the faint rumbling of gunfire.

“Alternatively?”

“We load what we can, leave this miserable rock, and take our chances with the Council.”

Everyone in the room looked at each other, before beginning a frantic attempt to salvage what little they could.

===

Voidbreaker
Outside Port Ol’val

“Scratch one!” Zig chuckled over the comms as she watched the fleeing transport’s engines give out under her sustained barrage and slewed the gun turret around to engage another Dawn Conclave ship that was trying to escape the station.

“Better pick up the pace,” Sera hollered from her own controls, “I already nailed two!”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty,” Karran’s voice chimed from the bridge via intercom. “Also, Zaric’s leading you both with three ships so far.” He did leave out the part about the over-eager Acolyte having blown up his targets rather than left them for capture like he’d ordered, but… details.

Their plan had gone off without a much of a hiccup. And judging by the increasing desperation with which the Dawn Conclave’s forces were trying to cram themselves out of their last refuge and escape, the ground operation was surely mopping up the remnants right now. He just had to sit back, sip his recaf, and enjoy the lightshow.

Sometimes, it really paid to be the Captain.

===

Tali Sroka wiped sweat off her brow as the Qel-Droman strike teams returned from their mission. The Dawn Conclave had finally been eradicated and their forces driven out. Hopefully for good. The conflict that had begun with Whallatta’s lightning strike on Ol’val and engulfed the Shadowport in flames had finally been dealt with and Qel-Droma stood all the stronger for it. Ashla and Bogan willing, they wouldn’t have to repeat this exercise during her lifetime.

The weary Twi’lek almost didn’t pick up on Alaisy’s arrival before the exceedingly tall and reflective Sith had almost gotten within arm’s reach. She perked up at once, surprised to see her here. Surely the interrogation hadn’t been that swift?

“Congratulations, Quaestor,” Alaisy greeted with a muted sense of urgency. “I received the reports as well. Our home is finally secure.”

“Yes,” Tali agreed. “Finally. Didt Geldi reveal anything useful?”

Alaisy hesitated. Alaisy almost never hesitated. It made the Twi’lek feel uneasy.

“Yes, after a sort,” Alaisy admitted after a moment’s pause. “He divulged some details which I feel a pressing need to verify, but I fear little else.”

Tali furrowed her brow. “Vhat details? Vhy does it soundt like…?”

“He’s dead,” Alaisy said bluntly. “Killed himself when I tried to persuade him. Some sort of neural failsafe. Rhylance will have a field day.”

Tali was not quite as pleased, but they had captured others. Perhaps they would provide some useful information to offset the loss of the enemy’s lieutenant. “Very vell, andt vhat of the information?”

“That is the reason I am here, Quaestor, to offer you my immediate resignation.”

“Vhat?!”

“I will explain, when I return, but now I urgently need to investigate a particular set of ruins on Dathomir and I fear that will interfere with my duties as Aedile.”

“But…”

“Thank you for not trying to stop me,” Alaisy stated in parting, already turning around to head for her ship in long, loping steps. “And congratulations on your victory!”

Tali stood dumbfounded in the street, feeling bewildered and confused. She had most definitely not been expecting this outcome. Not in a million years. When a soft voice spoke up beside her, she almost went for her weapon out of sheer shock. Thankfully, the Mirialan’s friendly face disarmed her instincts in an instant.

“Excuse me, ma’am Sroka, but I would wish to extend my congratulations to you as well,” the small woman said with seemingly genuine courtesy. “My name is Korii Shunzo, and I’ve come from afar seeking those who’ve managed to throw off the Enclave.”

“Conclave,” Tali corrected out of instinct, not even questioning how this woman knew so much about what was happening behind the scenes.

Korii smiled knowingly. “They go by many names,” she stated, “And that is precisely why you and I need to have a little talk…”

HQD HQ
Port Ol’val
37 ABY

“So,” Tali Sroka sighed as she poured herself and her diminutive guest a drink of amber liquid, “You’re saying the Dawn Conclave is not just the Dawn Conclave, but part of something bigger?”

“Yes,” Korii Shunzo replied, accepting the glass the purple Twi’lek offered. “Or at least that is as far as we’ve understood them.”

Still smelling of smoke and finely ground rock from the recently fought battle to exterminate the Dawn Conclave’s last refuge on Ol’val, Tali downed her first drink and poured herself another.

“Andt you vant us to come fight them? After ve’ve only just managedt to throw them out from our own home?”

The Mirialan lowered her head in acknowledgement of the magnitude of her request before replying. “It is a tall ask, and I do not expect you’d do it without compensation. However, the organization of which the Dawn Conclave is a part of, it is far bigger than that. They are like locusts, moving from one shadowport to the next, infiltrating small systems like ours and overthrowing their governments to install their own puppets. I do not know how far their reach extends, but you are the only ones who’ve successfully managed to stave them off!”

Shunzo sighed and swirled the drink in her glass, its amber color reflecting her own complexion. “I hate to say this, but you’re our only hope…” She downed the drink in one gulp.

Tali inspected the woman, both in the mundane and the attuned sphere gifted to her by the Force. Her desperation and concern for her people was genuine, but there were things she was hiding. Despite her appearance and demeanor, the Mirialan was clearly a career diplomat.

A flashing light on her datapad caught the Twi’lek’s attention, the familiar symbol of the Consul’s office alerting her to the pressing nature of the communication. She swiftly tapped over the message, eyes darting over the lines as she read the brief on a developing situation that Lucine expressed required Qel-Droma’s urgent attention.

“Ve’ll put a pin in this,” she said, finishing her drink in a single swig. “I vill not commit ourselves to this course of action just yet, but rest assuredt, you have our attention.”

The Mirialan felt like protesting, the lives of her people hung in the balance, but knew better than to strain this fledgeling relationship. She would bide her time.

“Of course, but please, my people are suffering. I do not know how long we can hold on to our remaining footholds. If we lose them, the entire planet is lost.“

And with that, she turned around and left the Quaestor to her own devices.

===

Aru’s Star Commuter 2000
Port Ol’val

Aru Law boarded his starship for a bit of privacy. By the pilot’s seat, he adjusted a secret frequency he had paid a considerable sum for. He turned on the frequency emitter and tried to call his contact. At first, a lot of static could be heard on the ship’s speaker system.

“… You hear me?” A low voice said. “I am losing my patience!” The voice became louder, but it still sounded modulated, with lots of static.

“This is Aru Law, do you read me? Your voice sounds very bad!” The Gray Jedi said in a slight mocking tone.

“Apprentice! You are lucky I am not there, otherwise you would not be standing straight!”

“Mistress!” He happily said. “So nice to hear from you. You really did not make contacting you easy.”

“It is best that few know where I am.”

“You tell me. You kinda went awol real fast and left us all behind.”

“I am deeply involved in my Sith studies. They would eventually conflict with my duties as Aedile.” The tall Human said through the speakers.

“I know. I don’t blame you. The House does need an Aedile though. Tali needs an Aedile. I’m afraid she won’t be able to keep dealing with the Dawn Conclave and manage a House alone for much longer.”

“Oh I know that. That is why I am appointing you as the new Aedile!”

“Wha’dda ya mean Aedile? Me? Does Tali know of this?”

“Everything will be taken care of.” She immediately followed up. “Tali trusts my judgement, so I am sure she will agree with my decision. I cannot think of anyone better to replace me than my own Apprentice!”

“Thanks, I guess?” Aru was very confused. It was all so unexpected.

“Good luck on your newest job Apprentice! Make me proud and make our House proud! Alaisy out.” The communication channel suddenly turned off and silence filled Aru’s starship.

Tali’s office
Port Ol’val

“Come in.” The Qel-Droman Quaestor said with a neutral tone, when knocking was heard.

Aru made his way inside the small office, which was serving as a temporary replacement while construction of the new House Headquarters was being finalized.

“Good evening my Quaestor.” Aru said courteously. “I’m sorry to bother you so late.”

Tali looked up from her papers. It was clear she was tired with all the work she was taking care of.

“Vhat is it Aru?”

“Hum,” the Human hesitated, “How do I say this… Alaisy kind of delegated me the job of Aedile?”

“Kindt of?” Tali asked, hopeful to have some new help. “Are you here to offer your services as Aedile or not?”

“I mean, I never thought about it, but I wouldn’t mind having such a position in our House. I do have the knowledge, I think.”

Tali’s eyes lit up and she smiled, Aru noticing a little cunningness in her look.

“Vonderful! Alaisy hadt forwardedt me her recommendation, but I vantedt to hear it from you. Then it is settledt, you vill become our new Aedile. Starting immediately!” She then pointed to a big pile of papers on a shelf. “That’s your part. I am very gladt you decidedt to join us!”

Aru merely stood there, stunned, before forcing a confident smile on his lips, the kind he’d so often adopted when going along with her Mistress’ Sithy schemes, and pulled out his share of admin. What had he gotten himself into this time?

Quaestor’s Office
Phantom Complex
38 ABY

It did not look good. No matter how grainy and distorted the holopics from the Selenian repair yards were, they could not obfuscate the fact that the Voidbreaker had been shot up something fierce. How it had managed to survive a catastrophic re-entry after being ambushed by a Dawn Conclave warship was beyond her, though there was something endearing about the way the old warhorse had refused to yield even when mortally wounded. With a phantom sting in her belly, Tali Sroka could certainly respect that quality.

The door opened with a hiss of pneumatics. She hadn’t left it unlocked. That could only mean one thing…

“Hello, darling,” Lucine Vasano greeted her, a slight smile on her red lips. The Consul was wearing a tastefully cut emerald-black dress that shifted in color with every motion she made. Dressed down, as she would have put it.

“Vhat can I do for you, Lucine?” Tali inquired, making no motion to rise up from her seat behind the work desk, her golden eyes nailed to the emerald greens of the red-haired Human.

“Oh please,” Lucine sighed dismissively, “Can I not drop by unannounced just once without you immediately thinking I want something from you?”

The Twi’lek did not deign the question worthy a response.

“I heard you have recently suffered some casualties,” Lucine continued anew as she paced over to the cluster of couches and sat down on the supple leather. She leaned back with a muted murmur of approval, draping her alabaster arms over the dark brown backrest and looking over to the Quaestor who remained behind her small fort of admin.

Tali’s lips pressed into a line. “Ve vere ambushedt. The Dawn Conclave—”

“—Have been eliminated and driven out of Ol’val, last I heard,” Lucine interrupted, searching with her gaze for the obligatory drinks cabinet that surely was part of any Arconan official’s quarters.

“Ve thought so too, but—”

“There is always a but, isn’t there?”

“—it seems ve may have been dealing vith a far greater foe than ve originally suspectedt. I vas contactedt by a Mirialan, Korii Shunzo, vho insistedt that they have been dealing vith the Dawn Conclave on their homeworld as vell.”

“And now you are down a ship, facing a foe far more powerful than you knew, and—if I am not mistaken—with your coffers empty from construction bills.” The Consul made a poor effort of hiding her cheshire smile.

“Ve vill deal vith it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will, darling, in due time.” She gave up on the search for the drinks and instead turned to studying the selection of books in the Twi’lek’s personal library. “But—”

“There’s always a but,” Tali interjected, earning the faintest of tugs out of the Consul’s lips.

“—as you must be aware, I have a passingly personal interest in making sure those bastards are sent a message.” Lucine’s tone had taken a sudden shift, her hand absentmindedly passing over the sniper wound that had almost done her in. “And to that end, I am willing to offer you a deal.”

Tali could not hide her intrigue, rare as it was to see Lucine display so much genuine emotion. “Vhat are you offering?”

Lucine patted the couch, crossing one leg over the other expectantly.

With a sigh, the Twi’lek rose up from her seat and made her way over to the cluster of couches like the good little Quaestor she was expected to be, taking a seat opposite of the Consul.

“I am willing to allocate some emergency funding in order to make good on your losses. I cannot have one of Arcona’s Houses without a ship, after all.”

Tali studied her for any sign of duplicity, but found only the usual amount. Nodding her head, she reached out with a gesture to open the concealed drinks cabinet within a section of the bookshelves.

“That is very generous, Consul, but it vill take some time to repair the Voidbreaker,” she stated as she poured a pair of drinks.

“Oh no, that will not do. I need you fully operational at once.”

The pressing haste in the Human’s voice gave the Twi’lek pause, and cause for a simple question. “Vhy?”

Lucine took a moment before replying. “That will become clear in due time,” she concluded, taking a sip of her drink with her gaze averted.

“Vell, ve couldt buy a new ship as vell, but ve vouldt needt to findt a shipyardt or someone villing to sell…”

Lucine raised her hand to silence the obvious complaints. “Leave that to me, darling. I have precisely what you require.”

===

Ubrikkian Shipyards
Corellia

“Mistress Vasano! How good to see you again!”

A dark-skinned Human in an Overseer’s uniform spread his arms wide for a friendly greeting, to which Lucine extended her hand for a shake. The man gave it an odd look, before grasping it by the wrist and giving it a firm shake, almost enough to pull the smaller woman off her heels.

“It has been too long, Brenkal, but I was hoping you could help me with a small problem,” Lucine said, visibly preoccupied with whether to endure the grime on her arm or soil the front of her dress. She’d somehow forgotten how dirty a place a shipyard could be.

“How small of a problem?” Brenkal chuckled, crossing his arms over his barrel chest.

“About Minstrel-sized,” Lucine smiled, her emerald eyes flashing.

==

“A yacht?!” Tali blurted as they caught a glimpse of the Minstrel-class space yacht for the first time. Sparks were still pouring from her hull where welders put on the final touches on her bare durasteel plating. “Karran von’t accept it,” she added outright, crossing her arms pensively.

“Do not be so sure, darling. He has shown a certain sensibility to class and I am sure this vessel would serve you marvellously in your coming endeavors,” Lucine replied, arm still soiled, but dress pristine.

“He vouldt have rammedt the Voidbreaker into a planet sooner or later anyway. Andt that vas a varship, vith guns.”

“Don’t be fooled by her appearance, Miss Sroka,” Brenkal said with an amused tone. “Her appearance belies her ability and I’m sure both you and Miss Vasano have both taken advantage of such.”

“Oh you sweet talker,” Lucine cooed. “And you could supply us, me, with this fine vessel in a reasonable time?”

“For you, Miss Vasano, I’d pilfer a whole fleet.” Brenkal cracked a wide, gold-toothed grin.

Behind the two, Tali merely rolled her eyes.

“He still von’t agree to it,” she scoffed. “Trust me. I know Karran.”

===

Club Sub Ol’val
The Blind Spot

“We’re getting a yacht?!” Karran Va’lteo exclaimed as the gathered Qel-Droman leadership filed out from the concert hall after a rather flamethrower-heavy rendition that Tali had hoped might bridge the subject of his new vessel.

“Yes, darling. Although technically—” Lucine began her prepared list of arguments to persuade the horned captain on the benefits of a more diplomatic charge.

“It’s a Minstrel, you said?”

“Erm, yes, darling. Now as I was sa—”

“I’m in!” he chuckled. “We can get some fighters aboard it, our guns are heavier, and we can finally expand the Sauna-section…”

The trio of Arconan leadership exchanged a glance of incredulity as the Zabrak went off on an enthusiastic rant. It was Aru Law who spoke up first.

“Well, uh, at least he seems to be taking it well.”

38 ABY
Port Ol’Val
Quaestor’s Office

The Quaestor’s private comm link beeped and flashed red, indicating a message from the Consul, and rousing Tali Sroka from her focused work over several House matters. Across the room, Karran Val’teo was explaining the new layout he had come up with for the Voidbreaker II to Aru Law.

“And in the middle section of the ship, the very desired sauna,” he enthusiastically said while pointing at the image on the datapad, “improved and bigger.”

Tali wasn’t paying attention to the two men who were a little too excited about the sauna idea for her liking. Instead, since her private message had finished being deciphered, she started reading her datapad.

“And what about a massage parlour right next to it?” The Human suggested. “It wouldn’t take much space and we could hire an expert masseuse to do the job…” his personal commlink also gave a signal. “Hold on.” He said as he checked who it was.

“The VHAT!?!” Tali’s scream was unexpected. She usually kept her composure. Aru immediately approached her table.

“Arx is under attack!” Both Tali and Aru exclaimed simultaneously.

Phantom Complex
Main Elevator

Tali tapped her foot impatiently. The turbolift was fast, but today it wasn’t fast enough. Karran was giving orders to the personnel aboard the Voidbreaker and Aru was smoking and keeping an eye on his commlink for more information.

“The House members have been summonedt for an emergency meeting,” the purple Twi’lek informed after receiving confirmation from most she had reached.

As they left the elevator, swift in their stride, Karran separated from them.

“I’ll head to the Voidbreaker and make sure we’re ready to depart.”

Aru also took the opportunity to speak. “Actually, if you’ll allow me, my Quaestor, I’ll make my way to the Nesolat ahead of us to get a grip on what’s happening.”

“Goodt idea. Go, andt be careful!” She said.

And now she was alone, heading for the briefing room, where the ones she was responsible for would be waiting for her instructions. There was still too much that they didn’t know about the situation, and Lucine’s message didn’t explain much either. Now, after having just recovered from a massive loss against the Dawn Conclave, she would have to send her House back out to unknown circumstances.

Briefing Room

Tali stood in the center of the small elevated platform, which allowed her to clearly see everyone in the room. All around her were more than familiar faces, a family. It pained her to have to address them this way, some of them still recovering from deep wounds.

“Today I don’t have goodt news for you.” She began with a slightly nervous tone in her voice. “The Collective is back.”

The mention of it caused a deeper silence than it already was in the room,as everyone waited for the next set of instructions. Tali felt her stomach twist.

“Ve are to deploy to the Arx system immediately, by orders of the Consul. Intelligence reports state the Nesolat platform could be under attack at any moment andt ve have to protect it. Ve’ll boardt the Voidbreaker andt headt there immediately.”

“Just that?” Emere’s voice rose as she stood to speak. “Go there, defend a massive platform and then what? Have dinner? We’re not the Dark Council’s puppets.”

“Ve don’t know more details yet.” Tali explained, feeling the same way her peers did. “Lucine—the Consul—also taskedt us vith a second objective. If the Nesolat is compromisedt, ve vill assist the evacuation. But there vill be loads of artifacts that vill needt, uh, rescuing. She expressedt a desire ve findt them a goodt home.”

“I like that.” A modulated voice quickly said. And then a laugh from besides her.

Zig was sitting right next to Alaisy Tir’eivra, the former Aedile.

“Once ve meet vith the rest of the Clan ve vill have more information for you. Until then, I ask that you report to the Voidbreaker in two hours. Ve are leaving.”

And with that, the meeting was dismissed and everyone went their own way to prepare. She also had to prepare, but for a moment she just stood there, immobile, taking in the situation.

“Vhat is there to gain, vith so much to lose?”

Port Ol’Val
Phantom Complex
Quaestor’s Office

Tali Sroka sat by her desk, quiet and motionless. Her eyes were poised on all the paperwork that had accumulated during their time on Arx. She hadn’t heard from Karran Val’teo for a long time, and Aru Law was also nowhere to be found.

“Evading vork those two,” Tali thought calmly, as she picked a portion of the pile and began reading.

She was stopped though, by the untimely arrival of the Aedile, who smiled widely and was followed by his faithful R2-unit Tinker.

“Mornin!” Aru Law said, with too much enthusiasm for one person, perhaps to distract Tali from the even bigger pile of documents he was carrying.

Tali stayed silent, looking slightly perplexed. “Vhat’s that?”, she finally said.

The Human put the documents down on the Quaestor’s table and handed the one on the top to the purple Twi’lek.

“This here,” he said pointing at the big pile of paper, “are the bills and overall spendings of Ol’val businesses for us to review.”

Tali blinked twice, still holding the datapad she had been given.

“And that datapad contains a report I put together from all the individual reports we received from the House. Have fun.” And as he finished speaking, the Gray Jedi sat by the Quaestor’s couch, usually used to accomodate guests.

The purple Twi’lek was about to comment something, but thought better of it, merely making a mental note of the Aedile’s unhelpful contributions and making sure he’d find some unfortunate clerical error assigning him to the Voidbreaker’s janitorial detail…

The datapad contained several entries provided by most members from the House. The entries were ordered alphabetically, the very first name being of Alaisy Tir’eivra. Tali began her reading.

“Alaisy vishedt for more murder andt mayhem,” Tali said, “I just hope she didn’t mean of our own troops.”

“Yup! Sounds like my Mistress alright,” Aru agreed.

Next on the list was Archian, Tali’s apprentice. She was curious to read what experiences he had taken from the war.

“Hmmh, seems Archian is still a bit sore after losing so much fur, but at least it’s not slowing him down any. Already passing on his bow-shooting knowledge, apparently.”

Tali noticed at the bottom of her apprentice’s report the address from where he had filed it. “Vait, vhy is this location-stamped at Volik? That’s a leisure world, is it not?”

“Oh yes, one of the finest within five star clusters! Nice sunsets, lovely company, easily confounded security droids at the craps tables…”

Tali shot Aru a pointed gaze.

"…erm, allegedly… "

As the Quaestor read the next portion of the file, she noticed it also spoke of fur loss, this time by Eilen’s part.

“…andt if foundt, please return to previous owner,” Tali finished the eccentric hybrid’s report and glanced at Aru. He shrugged, equally clueless.

“You saidt you compiledt the important parts from our House members reports?” Tali questioned the Human.

“I did!” A metallic clicking was heard as Aru lit up some tabac to pass time.

Tali cocked an eyebrow, an expectant expression on her face, but it seemed Aru had said his piece. Still wondering whether she was being elaborately pranked or not, she accidentally opened the next entry, an audio file with a very familiar but rather angry voice.

Emere Galo’s voice could be heard, yelling about bad formations and poorly armory discipline, such as fuses stored right next to explosives, which the Major stressed twice, and louder than the rest.

“That was interesting.” Aru joked, puffing from his tabac slowly once the tirade came to a close. “Although she might have a point, or two.”

“Depressingly so,” Tali agreed.

The Twi’lek took some notes before resuming her reading but soon stopped.

“Vho is this Rett Polix?” Tali asked. “He’s not on the House list of members.”

“I don’t know. But he had some interesting requests I believe we should take in consideration next time we depart for a long stay away from home.” The Aedile explained.

In fact, the report had little to resemble an actual report. It was just a short message demanding more alcohol to be available in war camps during the campaigns.

“Didt you ask him to sendt this?” Tali glanced over to the Human, who was helping himself to a glass of whiskey from her personal bar — another week’s worth of unclogging fur filters aboard the Voidbreaker in her mind.

“I would never,” he said, sipping his freshly acquired beverage, “this is the first time I’ve heard of him. Though he seems like a good guy.”

The Twi’lek carried on reading. She was finally on the last report. From Wyndell Tyris.

“Other deedts include: impersonating a female Collective Officer…” Tali read aloud this section, being as confused as the Aedile who ruffled his beard.

The Quaestor’s personal holocomm started beeping. Tali picked it up and pushed its on button. Karran’s face appeared.

“Hey Tali. I know you’re expecting a report from the war on Arx. I’m sorry I got delayed but there’s a good reason for it. I’m on my way back to Ol’Val as we speak and I’ll tell you everything once I get there. Let’s just say I got disarmed during the war. Karran over.”

Aru stood up and finished his drink. “That seems to be the last of it. Can’t wait to hear the full story.”

“It’s goodt to have all hands on deck,” Tali agreed with a nod. “Emere made some goodt points, andt after the fighting against the Dawn Conclave, ve really needt to rearm.”

Shadow Complex
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

“—so thanks to veeks of vork by our data-analysts, ve’ve managed to scrub the gun cam footage from the oldt Voidbreaker enough to give us an idea of vhat ship attackedt us is,” Tali Sroka continued with her briefing.

The faint humm of air conditioning units and the flicker of a holo-projector were the only sound within the crisp coolness of the briefing room. After the events at Arx, Ol’val and Qel-Droma had returned to a semblance of normalcy while the galactic politics played themselves out in the aftermath. However, old grudges demanded settling and the loss of their erstwhile home away from home was still fresh in everyone’s memory. Some scars healed worse than others.

“The attacking vessel has been identifiedt as a modifiedt battle cruiser of the Nova—”

The sudden hiss of the briefing room doors cut the purple Twi’lek off as an exhausted Aru Law barged in with all the decor and tact she’d come to expect of the gambling addict. Before she could scold him for his tardiness, however, the visibly exuberant Human waved aloft a stack of flimsies and exclaimed.

“Va-ca-tion! Mewdlewlewleeee!”

There was a spirited attempt at an air-quetarra solo, though it looked visibly off key—especially with the mewling sounds the Aedile made with his mouth to imitate the electric instrument.

A deadly silence filled the briefing room anew and a healthy red glow rose upon Aru’s cheeks as he realized all eyes were on him, and not necessarily in a good way.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat and began once more, “I meant to say was, we have received priority orders from the Consul’s office instructing us to redeploy in force to, uh,” he raised the flimsiplast closer to read the fine print, “the Hats’utsil resort on Atolli island. Sunscreen and cocktails on the Clan’s expense.”

He excitedly began handing out the orders, passing them around the room as a healthy hubbub soon developed among the gathered Qel-Dromans.

“Ah, I’ve been waiting for a chance to try out my new swimsuit!” Leeadra Halcyon chimed elatedly. Two rows behind her and several seats to her left, Eilen Jath felt her furry cheeks burn as her mind wandered. She promptly buried her face in her paws, though a curious eye still peeked past her digits to observe the Pantoran and provide added fuel for her vivid imagination.

Alaisy Tir’eivra craned her elegant neck towards the distinctly shorter Zygerrian sitting beside her, the voice modulator on her mirrored helmet flashing a few times to betray words exchanged, though none were audible over the rising hubbub. Zig, however, was suddenly getting visibly tense.

“Splendid! We will surely have a wonderful time! I hear Selen is especially lovely this time of year,” Sulith Bekett announced, beaming a smile from ear to ear.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to set up a roasting pit and treat you all to some traditional Zabraki barbeque,” Karran Val’teo agreed, though at the back of his mind he was perhaps more looking forward to meeting Sera Kaern once again. That it was upon a sun scorched field of sand and in scant attire merely gave him the home-field advantage, or so he reckoned.

From the front row, Archian turned his head around at the sound of barbeque. If he was lucky, perhaps he could even contribute. The waters were surely packed with fish and the nearby jungles prime hunting grounds for his bow.

“Well, let’s get going then. Consul’s orders and all,” Emere Galo grunted as she kicked herself off the wall she’d been leaning against. “Hope you all know how to swim. Last time aboard the Voidbreaker, y’all gave a pretty mixed showing.”

”In case some of you require further tutelage or perhaps a refresher course on proper aquatic propulsion, the Garmis Academic Swimming Program is holding special courses at the resort! Private lessons tailored to your skill level are available at no surcharge!”

The booming sound of Stres’tron’garmis thundered from the doorway as the brawny Chiss Rolemaster squeezed himself inside and blocking Emere’s exit with his sheer presence. “Shower caps at your own credit, though. We are not made out of money.”

“What? Clan budget not covering protection?” Emere winked slyly, causing the burly Chiss to take on a hue of purple.

“Erm, not that sort, miss Galo…” he managed, before pulling out a datapad with the sign-up forms. “Anyone interested, please sign up here, or at the resort!”

Tali just observed the commotion for a while, before shaking her head and shutting off the projector. Plucking the data drive from its socket, she let out a long sigh and headed for the side door. She only made it a few steps before her Aedile caught up with her.

“Where are you going?” he inquired, almost innocently.

“To get a cocktail, apparently,” she mused. “Consul’s orders.”

Mid Level, Phantom Complex
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

Operative Lasander wiped sweat off his brow despite the cool air within the climate controlled Signals Analysis department, his stale cup of caf having long since succumbed to the surrounding ambiance. His fingers worked feverishly, dancing on a control board as he cross-referenced various docking reports and occupancy records the Qel-Droman intelligence operation had managed to acquire. His hands trembled as the pieces began to fall in place, at least enough so to warrant a word with his superior.

Working under the assumption that the vessel that had attacked the Voidbreaker required berthing quite substantially larger than that of most ‘normal’ vessels, he’d been feverishly cross-referencing the patchwork of sightings and possible signals contacts with nearby merchant station bookings of warship class berths. The results were not entirely conclusive, but a pattern had emerged. And what’s more, if he was correct, he might know where their target currently resided.

==

“Hmmh, it’s not totally far fetched,” Colonel Arard mused, rubbing his chin in deep contemplation. “At least it might be worth validating.”

“Thank you, sir,” Operative Lasander managed, surprised his theory had received even mild consideration. “I trust in my results, sir. If there is no field agent ready to be deployed, I’d happily—”

“Nonsense,” Arard interrupted the overly enthusiastic operative. “Your value to us that big brain of yours. I’m not risking it on a field deployment. Just stay back and we’ll let the professionals handle it.”

Lasander stiffened a little at the backhanded praise, but nodded. Not sure whether he’d just been complimented or slyly insulted. “As you say, sir.” He’d long since learned to just grin and bear such words. Many things he could understand and analyze, but the whims of his superiors were beyond his scrutiny—and probably mortal logic.

“Follow me, we have an agent stationed in a nearby system. Redeploying them should not take long,” Colonel Arard stated as he got up from his chair and headed for the Operations Center.

“Erm,” Lasander paused, realizing he’d let out a noise he’d only intended internally.

“Yes?” Arard gave him a questioning look.

“D-do we not need to consult with someone higher up?”

Arard looked at the young man for a while that seemed uncomfortably long before replying. “Normally, yes. However, these are exceptional circumstances.”

“Exceptional how?”

“No-one above me is on station…” Arard replied with a crooked grin.

==

”Another wild dewback chase,” Field Agent 37 thought to herself as she waded past the pressing throngs of unwashed bodies in a dilapidated hallway of Commercial Starport Narinka. The redeployment had been sudden, and not entirely welcome as she’d been roused from her sleep and flung out into the stars without any prior notice. But hers was not to reason why, her’s what but to do and…

“I’ll be damned,” she muttered as her eyes caught the elongated shape of a warship through one of the Narinka’s crusted over viewing ports. Her pace quickened for a moment, then slackened once again as she remembered her status as just another passer-by looking for transit. Hoping no-one had noticed her momentary lapse, she halted and struck up a conversation with some Zeltron merchants, inquiring about their next port of call and whether they’d be willing to accept a passenger. Even as she did, she made sure to keep her shoulder bag slung in the direction of the port hole.

==

“What is she doing? Why is she talking about Bespin?” Operative Lasander inquired, brow furrowed, as they listened to Field Agent 37’s feed.

“Keeping her cover up, boy,” Colonel Arard grunted in a tone that told him to keep such obvious questions to himself.

Lasander sighed and looked up at the screen, where a grainy feed from a concealed holorecorder was filtering through in fits and starts. The picture was blocky, the packet loss over such distances and on such heavily encrypted data links was substantial, but slowly it began to resolve into a clear picture. One that made his already furrowed brow positively scrunch up—until realization struck.

“Sir?”

“Not now.”

“Sir, I really think you should…”

Arard glanced up from the terminal and up at the large holoprojector. He instantly recognized the silhouette. “By the stars…” he gasped, before immediately reaching for the comms and keying Agent 37.

==

“You said you’re leaving in two days? Oh, that’s a shame. I really needed to go today…” Agent 37 offered her condolences to the pair of disarmingly accommodating Zeltrons while backing away from their stall and into the flow of people that crowded the station’s cramped walkways. She did not particularly enjoy command interrupting her long-term plans, and being pushed around by Arard micromanaging her like some personal puppet was really getting on her nerves. She was a professional. She would get the information he desired, but the man had no patience.

Arard’s urgent words still ringing in her earpiece, she made her way as brazenly as she dared towards the docking port connecting to their vessel of interest. As she did so, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every nerve on her body told her to be a professional and ignore his bullying, but…

She reached another view port and stopped, ostensibly to re-tighten her boot straps, and propped the shoulder bag against the transparisteel pane to give command an unobstructed view of their target. What more confirmation could they need?

She’d barely bent down when she heard a bone chilling Click behind her as a blaster’s safety was disengaged.

==

“Found what you were looking for?” a gruff voice asked in Hutteese, the static adding a chilling coldness to the ominous words.

Neither Arard nor Lasander heard a reply from Agent 37 before a blaster bolt cut the feed. The last image she’d managed to send, however, had permanently frozen on the massive screen that dominated the Operations Center. It showed the thruster banks of a large warship, and the distinctly curved turbo laser batteries that had destroyed Qel-Droma’s previous corvette.

“Damn it!” Arard snapped, slamming his headset against the control panel so hard it almost broke.

A deathly silence had filled the room, the most daring of eyes glancing at him, the rest nailed to their screens. The Colonel was pacing back and forth, though remaining perfectly immobile.

“Scramble the pilots,“ he called out a moment later. “We’re hitting that bastard right here and now.”

“But sir, we need confirmation from—”

“Do it! I won’t let 37’s death be in vain.”

There were hesitant looks exchanged between the operations personnel, before a general scramble was called. Aurabesh Prime and Butcher squadrons were flying tonight.

Quaestor’s Office, Phantom Complex
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

“You vhat?” Tali Sroka almost snapped at the stiff faced Colonel Arard as he gave his report on the deployment of the House’s two attack squadrons.

“I accept full responsibility, ma’am,” the man admitted penitently.

The Twi’lek gave a dismissive huff at the gesture, as if assigning blame was the highest of her priorities.

“At least ve didn’t lose anyone,” she sighed, “but now our enemies know ve’re onto them andt vhat ve have for teeth.”

Arard chose to hold his silence, merely casting his gaze down.

“It vas reckless andt foolhardy, especially after losing contact vith Agent 37,” she continued tensely, “but it vas decisive andt showedt initiative.”

Arard looked up, a hint of surprise on his deeply grooved face.

“Ve all vant revenge for vhat they didt to our ship, to our friendts, to our colleagues, andt ve must act decisively vhen the time comes. But ve mustn’t let revenge cloudt our judgement,” she spoke the words she’d paid so much to learn herself. “Get back to your station andt keep me postedt in case Operative Lasander gets any more bright ideas.”

“Aye, ma’am,” the man replied sharply, snapping a quick salute and departing briskly, still surprised to hold his job and rank at the end of it. By the time the two squadrons had arrived at Narinka station, their quarry had already left, though only just. The ion wake was still present, on their scanners, but pursuing the ship into deep space without support would have been suicide. What’s worse, the pilots had reported several scans from aboard the station as they’d approached at best possible speed, hinting that the Dawn Conclave’s spies had likely made good of the situation to inspect the “Blindman’s” forces. Their foe would now be alerted and ready for such an attack. He just hoped Lasander or someone else within the extensive intelligence team might be able to give him something to redeem his status and make good on this misstep.

Back inside the Quaestor’s office, Karran Val’teo’s stiff

“Well, they know what’s coming for them, but it won’t save them. Many a prey have known the danger of Zabraki hunters, for what little good it has done them,” he stated, clearly eager to test out the new ‘fangs’ of the Voidbreaker II in real combat.

“Hold your banthas, Karran,” Aru Law said, looking up from a datapad. “Your ship’s still undergoing outfitting and hasn’t even completed her official void trials yet. Sending her out to hunt a vessel far larger than herself, with an inexperienced crew and without the team fully familiar with her would be reckless—even by your standards.”

“Sounds to me like someone is proposing a bet,” the Zabrak captain retorted.

“Just stating facts,” the Human replied dryly. “Even I wouldn’t gamble on your venture.”

Tali steepled her fingers and sighed, the fatigue from the eventful vacation still weighing on her. Oh how she’d missed Ol’val.

“He’s right, Karran,” she stated. “The ship, the crew, you’re not ready. Ve’re not ready.”

“So what, we’ll just sit here and polish the headlights until we get hit again? I’m not letting those cowards score another win while we just sit back and do nothing,” Karran’s tone had taken a distinct turn for the darker.

“Andt I’m not asking you to,” Tali replied, eyes narrowing. “But ve have to accept this foe is both clever andt strong. Operative Lasander vas onto something, though. Ve needt to get the jump on them, somehow. That’s the only vay ve’ll be able to hit hardt andt fast enough to take down that ship.”

“Unless we just call to Selen and ask a bit of help from the Invicta II…” Karran muttered under his breath.

“Ve’ve gone through this, this is our problem to deal vith, not the AEF’s. Ve don’t drag official assets into our Shadow Vars unless ve have no other choice.”

“Might I offer a suggestion?” Aru interjected, clearing his throat before the Zabrak could offer some spiky retort. “I was going through Operative Lasander’s work and I think his analysis could be used to our advantage.”

“Go on,” Tali beckoned.

“Since he reverse-engineered the ship’s ports of call, we know when it most likely sent or received transmissions. If we can gain access to any records from those ports of call, we could get a set of encrypted messages it’s been sending and receiving from the Dawn Conclave’s HQ.”

“What does that help us?” Karran grunted. “They’re just chatter and noise, not nearly enough to go off of.”

“Not on their own, no, but we have a host of smart people here who might be able to isolate patterns, maybe find some commonalities or other marks that would let us spot other messages in our listening posts,” Aru smirked. “It’s not much right now, but if we could break their codes without them knowing it, we’d be at a significant advantage.”

Karran appeared sceptical, while Tali ran a thoughtful digit against her chin. “It’s vorth a shot. It might not get us the ship ve’re after, but if they use the same encryption for their other ships, ve might at least get some retribution.”

That sparked at least a hint of a grin out of the surly Zabrak.

Kyrellius Shipyards
Outer Rim
Last Weeks of 38 ABY

“Get to the ship!” Freylia shouted to the rest of the strike team and fired off a micro-grenade at the pursuing security detail. The explosive detonating on an overhead beam and showering the burly grunts in hot shrapnel and pieces of girder. The hangar ceiling groaned dangerously, but held, the concussive force of the explosion throwing their pursuers into the ground and buying them a few more precious seconds.

With a wide leer, the Mirialan turned tail and followed the others as they made their escape from the clandestine shipyard, klaxons wailing all around. At the far end of the hangar bay, a bulky freighter hovered in sight, its side ramp open and a familiar one-armed Zabrak waving for the others to get aboard.

“We’ve got to go!” Karran Val’teo urged the retreating Qel-Dromans, reaching out with his one good arm and yanking a cargo container out of their path and into the laps of bewildered guards that tried to cut them off.

Alaisy, Archian, Aru, and Zyg all ran at full pelt across the hangar bay, bearing dents and bruises from their exploits, though most importantly the gently glowing encryption crystals they’d pilfered from the Dawn Conclave’s warship. Blaster bolts whizzing past, Archian flinched as he felt one lucky shot strike his wildly weaving backside, thankfully only striking the riot shield and little else. Swerving around, the Shistavanen knocked an arrow on his bow, drew it and fired, all in one smooth motion, to send a serrated arrow into the chest of the closest pursuer. The body had not hit the floor before the field medic was running once more.

“Say hello to my Yeetle friend!” Wyndell Tyriss declared boisterously as he dived in from the overhead gantries, a bryar rifle nestled in the crook of his elbow and humming ominously. Taking aim mid-flight, he depressed the trigger and let loose a powerful blast that caught a handful of the hired enforcers in its path, before striking a fuel cell and sending a blooming fireball across half the hangar bay. Rattled by the pressure wave, he almost stuck the landing, and after a hurried regaining of his footing, the flashed a confident grin that suggested he meant to do that all along.

Alaisy reached the ship first, her long gait making short work of the distance. Striding up beside Karran, she lashed out with tongues of bright lightning at an opening doorway to the right, frying the controls and preventing a second team from outflanking them.

Freylia, Aru and Archian scampered onto the ramp and hurried inside the freighter to man its guns, while Zig kept up the rear. A gout of flame erupted from her gauntlet, deterring the most overzealous of overseers from closing the distance with their shock whips, and buying Wyn the precious seconds he needed to reach the departing ship. Lighting up her jetpack, the Zygerrian soared up after the others, grabbing Alaisy’s out-stretched arm as the shiny Sith pulled her aboard the departing freighter.

“So long, scoundrels!” Karran spat as the team departed, turning towards the waiting Mirialan and nodding. With a gleeful smile, Freylia pressed the remote detonator. At the outfitting berths, the angular prow of a Dawn Conclave corvette shuddered, flashes of bright light flaring out through the bridge viewports, before a horrific gout of fire vented from its reactor core and the entire vessel slumped down in a twisted broken mess against the rocks beneath.

===

Tali Sroka rubbed her temples as she beheld the scorched, bloodied, and dented team that had just returned from their mission. They reeked of sulphur and dioxis, along with even less pleasant emissions, and bore the hallmarks of a purported stealth mission that had been anything but.

However, that mattered less than their results and as Aru Law placed the pale green encryption crystals upon her desk, the Twi’lek couldn’t help but smile. At last they had a leg up on the Conclave.

“Vell done, to all of you. Now get these to the decryption team at once. They may not be goodt for too long, so let’s make the most of them andt findt that blastedt ship.”

The team reconvened at the Operations Center after a brief refresher. With the help of Qel-Droma’s earlier analysis, slotting in the encryption crystals into their makeshift decoder yielded almost immediate results. Scores of stored encrypted transmissions began translating into plaintext before their very eyes, unveiling the full extent of the Dawn Conclave’s operations and fleet movements.

As wonderful as such a revelation was, however, it was in equal measure terrifying as the full magnitude of their opposition became clear. The Conclave was not just some lesser crime cartel that had sought an opportunity to expand to Ol’val, but by the sheer scale of their operation it was obvious what had played out at Ol’val was but a sideshow in their grander schemes.

The shock of the moment was broken by a junior analyst clearing his throat and pointing out a recent transmission they’d just intercepted, and decrypted. “One of our transports is about to be attacked, ma’am. They’re vectoring for intercept in the Bushan nebula as we speak.”

“How quickly can ve get our fighters to assist?” Tali inquired sharply, turning to address Colonel Arard.

“Within minutes, ma’am,” the stern-faced man replied, keen to make amends for his earlier mistakes. “Shall I give the order?”

“Yes, I von’t lose any more—” Tali began.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Operative Lasander interjected as boldly as he dared. “That may be a mistake.”

Both Arard’s and Tali’s eyes turned to the Operative who suddenly felt the collar of his uniform uncomfortably tight. Dauntless, he carried on.

“If we scramble now, we will intercept the attackers and prevent the loss of the transport, but it will be blatantly obvious to our enemies that we knew they were coming. If they are half as capable as we fear, they might change their codes and what we just gained will be lost.”

“So what, you expect us to sit on this and do nothing with the information?” Arard pressed.

“No, of course not, sir. But we must use it carefully, give another plausible explanation to our foes as to our presence, or lack thereof. They mustn’t suspect we can read their transmissions for as long as possible.”

Their eyes turned to Tali, who once again felt the weight of lives placed upon her shoulders. Save a few now, but prolong their war, or condemn the crew of that transport in exchange of others in the future. She’d been in this situation before, and she knew how her choice had played out then. Hands balling into fists, she cursed the burden of command and did what she knew was right for Qel-Droma.

“Prepare the salvage crews, Colonel. Maybe there vill still be survivors left to save…”

===

Anders Kyrellius paced along the blasted remains of the outfitting berths and beheld the twisted corpse of what should have been a fine warship. Millions of credits had just burned to high heavens and if there was one thing he loathed, it was making a loss.

“You have security records?” he asked of the Yard Chief who was sweating bullets at the fiasco he’d personally overseen.

“Y-yes, sir,” he managed, propping a datapad to his master. “The invaders managed to gain access into our systems and corrupted much of the records, but we managed to recover some of it.”

Kyrellius looked at the grainy snippets of the people responsible for all this carnage and scowled. He had an impeccable memory for people and faces, or polished helmet in this case, and his knuckles whitened as he realized just who had been behind all of this.

“W-what are your orders, sir?” the Yard Chief inquired.

“Blame it on a slave revolt and have the current workforce culled. That should appease our client until we can build a replacement—or two. If it’s a war they want, then a war they will get.”

Quaestor’s Office
Port Ol’val
39 ABY

Pain. Anger. Frustration.

These things and more were self-evidently mounting in the Dawn Conclave’s mission command as their forces met with minor setbacks here, cunning reprisals there, and a deluge of pyrrhic victories across the board. They were winning, or so they thought, but it wasn’t a good victory, a clean and efficient one that they were accustomed to, but a messy and costly affair where each enemy pawn they plucked a score of their own would be its price. And even the Dawn Conclave could not afford to pay that cost indefinitely.

This all was cold comfort to Tali Sroka as she reviewed the intercepted comms reports their new decryption service was providing her on a daily basis. The information they received was invaluable and key to carefully picking their way through the chessboard of a shadow war, but though they were making the Conclave pay tenfold for each loss Qel-Droma suffered, she felt each death on her own shoulders. Someone more callous might have called them pawns, but to her they were men and women, agents and operatives, people who trusted their life in her hands; and whom she was knowingly consigning to death.

“This can’t go on,” she stated, voice dry after a long day’s work. “Ve’re not going to vin like this.”

“We are making them pay a high price, though. There has to be a limit to their resources,” Aru Law replied, taking on a nonchalant tone though he was as keenly aware of the damage being dealt to Qel-Droma as she was. “But until we hear back from Karran, the plan can’t—”

“Andt vhat about Karran? Vhere in the stars has that Zabraki bandit gone off to this time?” Tali spat, letting her frustrations boil over. “He vas supposedt to be here.”

Aru shrugged, genuinely clueless. “Maybe he’s off on some religious hunt? I hear they’re all the rage.”

“This is the secondt time I’ve hadt a man I trustedt just bail on me…” Tali muttered to herself.

“What was that?” Aru perked up.

“Nothing!” Tali coughed. “Just getting tiredt of herding tookas.”

“Yeah, they sure can be a handful,” Aru chuckled, while continuing to practice his sabacc-shuffling tricks in lieu of helping in any shape or form.

Tali watched the gambler try to load the deck and flick a certain card off the top with a little dramatic ‘fwoah’ and decided she’d seen enough. “You know…”

“Oh! Speaking of knowing,” Aru patted down his jacket and took out a code cylinder. “This came in today. Seemed important, so I plucked it out just in case,” he said and tossed it at the Twi’lek.

She caught the item with a leisurely gesture, levitating it to her hand and plugging it into her desk console. The heavy encryption was an obvious giveaway, and she had a dread feeling before the full suite of verification keys had cycled of who the sender was. The motif of the Consul’s office proved her right. Amber eyes darting from line to line, she swiftly read the short missive, her lips pressing together with increasing force.

“Karabast.” The dam of silence broke.

“Good news?” Aru inquired.

“Remember our last vacation?”

“How could I forget!”

“Seems one of SIMASS’s souvenirs must have escapedt andt made its vay to Celeste,” she paused to shudder at that particular repressed memory, “ve’re being calledt to hunt it, or them down.”

“Blast! I was just planning on heading to Canto Bight to test out my new shuffle,” Aru pined, but one look at the Twi’lek’s tired-with-your-banthapoodoo look made him swallow the rest of his protest. “But of course, duty comes first and all! I’ll go inform the crew while Karran’s AWOL,” he said, swiftly getting to his feet and fleeting the office.

Tali listened to the door slide shut with a hiss of pneumatics, her shoulders sagging the moment she knew she was alone. The feeling had come unbeckoned, lured from the abyss like some leviathan of the deep. Her hand trailed to the scar upon her belly. What would he have thought were he around to know he’d almost had a daughter?

Pain. Anger. Frustration.

Dawn Conclave Warship Nova
Hyperspace
39 ABY

Streaks of starlight had melted into a kaleidoscopic tunnel of dizzying shape and luminosity, captivating to behold, though maddening in excess. Untold distances disappeared beneath the durasteel keel of the Nova as its sleek bow plowed the hyperspace lane like a bird of prey. The Dawn Conclave warship was a sleek warbird, its recurved wings poised to strike with batteries of turbolasers along their leading edges, and its outstretched command deck offering its captain unbridled visibility of the battlefield.

Hawkeyed and gaunt, captain Huq Kar’Naag was as much a predator as his charge. Sitting in the captain’s chair and observing the vortex of light rushing past, he could feel every vibration and tremor, every minute shift in the frame of his vessel. They both longed for prey.

Ever since they’d pounced that hapless Charger c70 near Kubindi, their luck had taken a distinct turn for the worse and though they hadn’t gone hungry, the targets they’d intercepted had been slim pickings. Why command still insisted they stay out here, harrying shipments into the Dajorra-sector, was beyond him. But then, he wasn’t paid to ask such questions.

“Captain, sir,” a junior lieutenant spoke up from his station, one hand still on the earpiece of his comms. “New orders from HQ. We’re being vectored in for a new patrol, priority urgent. Uploading to your terminal now.”

The updated starmap route flashed red before Huq’s eyes, a far more convoluted path than he’d liked. Almost like they were trying to shake a pursuer, or confound an enemy. Command wasn’t telling him everything, he was sure of it.

The Weequay shifted in his seat, glancing over at the readouts indicating the overall status of the Nova. He’d been hoping to avoid another mid-patrol refueling, but that path would burn through a lot of hypermatter.

“We’ll need to replenish our stores before departing,” he stated. “What’s the nearest trading station we can dock with?” Despite her numerous advantages from size, the Nova was uncomfortably bulky for most small space stations and trading outposts, limiting their choices when it came to less-than-legal stations.

The navigator’s fingers danced on his console before pulling up a poor quality holopict of a dilapidated space station that looked like a remnant from the Clone Wars. “Corellia’s Delight, pretty far from Corellia if you ask me, and far from a delight, but they’ve got the space we need. We’ll need to calculate another jump, but shouldn’t take us more than a few hours to get there.”

Huq rubbed his knurled chin and nodded. “Inform command, orders received. Diverting course for Corellia’s Delight for refueling and stocking up. I hope they’ve finally found us some real prey. We are itching for a fight…” he said as he patted his command chair.

===

Ready room

Phantom Complex

“Listen up!” Tali stated to the gathered strike team. “This is the moment ve’ve been vaiting for. Ve have intercepted a transmission on the Dawn Conclave’s channels showing their ship is diverting for fuel here,” she pointed at an insignificant speck on the starmap, “Corellia’s Delight.”

“Ve have strike squadrons at the ready, but they might not be able to take out the target on their own. So ve are deploying onto the station to make sure they don’t escape.”

The holoprojector changed to display a slowly rotating wireframe of a small, severely rundown space station that might once have served as an outpost or supply depot during the conflict between the Republic and Confederacy. Several docking bays for small craft were visible, along with a few umbilicals for larger vessels to dock with.

“They’ll be there vithin a few hours andt von’t stay for long. Ve needt to get to the station’s control room andt lock the umbilical so they cannot leave. Aurabesh Prime andt Butcher vill conduct a strike on it, but it might not be enough to destroy it completely. Be ready to boardt the enemy ship andt plant charges on their main reactor. Ve’re making sure the Dawn Conclave feel this sting,” the Twi’lek’s amber eyes were cold durasteel.

“So, we’re going in slightly sneaky, before maybe blowing up half the station and fighting our way through the Conclave’s security detail?” Zig inquired, the burden of command suddenly quite real upon her shoulders.

“The longer ve can hide the truth from the Conclave, the better. But once they realize they’ve been caught, ve needt to move quickly. Ve don’t vant to blow up the entire station, but that ship needts to be destroyedt.”

Zig swallowed and nodded. It was good she’d worn the beskar today. Barely recovered from their deployment to Celeste in defending Selen from would-be goddesses and their half-dressed sea-god boytoys, this emergency departure was going to really put the crew of the Voidbreaker to the test. But she was confident in her battleteam, they’d make it through like they always did.

Just a case of how many appendages they’d be missing, she thought as her tail curled closer to her waist.

Phantom Complex
Port Ol’val
39 ABY

The door into the Quaestor’s quarters hissed open, allowing the weary Twi’lek to shuffle inside. Tali Sroka let out a content sigh as the door once more closed behind her, leaving her alone within the blessed silence of her office—a sharp contrast to the boisterous return journey from their strike mission. She was quite certain the party was continuing downstairs even now, the team taking to some well-earned refreshments in the officer lounge, but after all she’d gone through the first thing on her mind was to get out of her armor and have a looong shower.

A sideward glance at her in-office bar offered an objection. Perhaps one drink, and then the refresher.

==

The struggle had been inelegant and fierce, but in the end the Arconan stood triumphant. Zuza Lottson let go of the haggard woman as soon as she retrieved the Aedile’s pilfered lightsaber, the spineless scoundrel scampering off into the shadows of the station. Their infiltration had almost been compromised by that sithspit of a woman, bumbling drunkenly into Aru Law and pickpocketing his saber before he’d even noticed. Returning the weapon back to its owner, the short Human received a round of approving looks from her new team-mates. It was only the beginning of her career, but she was proving to be equally quick of foot and wit.

==

Ice clacked into the tumbler, followed by a deep amber liquid that carried with it a hint of vanilla and smoke. Tali leaned back on the couch and drank deep, feeling the delightful burn on her tongue as she recalled the moments of their mission. Much had happened in such a short time, and the true color of the Battleteam been shown.

==

“Paw-er! Unlimited Paw-er!!!” Sven Rawioni chuckled in his mind as tongues of white lightning lanced from his furry fingertips, coursing expertly down the corridor and past his allies to hit the Nova strike team soldier square in the chest. He shook and jittered like a puppet on strings, before falling limp with those strings cut. The pint-sized Togorian purred with sweet revenge at taking out one of the evil men who’d hurt his friends. This one would hurt no-one ever again.

==

Picking off her broken helmet, Tali placed the sooted piece of armor upon the table and scowled. The stench of burnt plastoid was far less agreeable than the delicate scent of her drink. The bodyglove underneath had saved her from total conflagration, but the traces of dried up bacta were the real champion of that particular encounter.

==

The gout of fire projected from the KX-unit’s flamethrower washed over her, deforming the plastoid as horrendous heat pushed through the insulating armor. Curled up with her back against the attack, Tali was sure she’d be fried to a crip unless she thought of something exceedingly quickly, but then she heard a friendly voice over the roar of flames. “I have something for you!” Archian yelled, lobbing a bacta bomb into the flamer’s path. The healing gel dispersed in all directions, swatting back the flames and dousing the fires on her back. As the gel seeped into her seared flesh to begin its miracle work, the Twi’lek turned around and attacked once more, sharing a nod of thank you with her former student.

==

She rested the cool glass against her forehead, letting the beads of condensed water drip down her brow. Things had definitely taken several wild turns, first with the Nova strike team trying to wrestle control of the station security hub, and when the Qel-Droman starfighters had deployed to strafe the Nova it had been another case of heartbeats away from disaster…

==

”[Weapons charging detected. Targeting scans detected. Automatic defences deploying.]” the synthetic voice of the station’s computer core droned on as the pips of Auresh and Butcher squadrons appeared on long-range scanners.

“Automatic vhatnow?” Tali blurted in alarm, but Zig was already on it. Her slicer pad connected to the station’s systems via an unprotected dataport, she was tapping away at their cyber defences with gusto until a triumphant “Ha, peasants!” announced his victory. The turrets powered down in the nick of time as the strikecraft zoomed into range of the Nova and deployed their payloads.

==

Colonel Arard had vindicated himself that day. Ever since the failed attempt at the Nova weeks prior, he’d drilled the fighter crews on this mission, and they had not disappointed. The A- and B-wings had hit the mark and left the Nova crippled at her berth, but crippled was not destroyed. So they had had to board and fight their way inside.

Tali ran a hand down her lek. The final assault into the reactor core had been hairy as someone burdened with more body hair than a Twi’lek might have put it, but at least some among the team had taken the most out of it…

==

“Hey chibi girl!” Sage chuckled as he picked up Zuza and raised her to his shoulders, the plucky Human giving a mildly shocked gasp at the sudden addition of some seven feet of height, but chuckled as well as they traversed towards the reactor core. ”You can shoot from there, right?”

She nodded in affirmative. “Just give me some warning next time you throw me, alright?”

In hindsight, maybe Zuza ought to have been more concerned with getting off than on, since the next thing she knew, Sage had—once again—charged into melee with some droids with the terrifielated Human riding scattergun on his shoulders and firing wildly with her blaster. As a combat tactic, it had been more distracting than effective, but sometimes a distraction was what they really needed…

==

The fight for the reactor core had been grim and hard fought. The defenders had been entrenched, but weary from the damage to their ship. After breaching inside and dealing with the droids, the rest of the defenders looked about ready to surrender—until their captain joined the fray. The Weequay had been an expert swordsman, easily able to hold his own against her in a duel. It pained her to admit, but without her team, he probably would have gotten the better of her too.

She traced a hand across the bloody wound across her belly where his vibrosaber has almost gutted her.

Still, she had had friends on her side, and he had not.

==

The Weequay staggered back under the assault of multiple angry Qel-Dromans. Zuza had thrown herself at him with wild abandon and stabbed him in the shoulder, Sage rushing in moments later to deliver a punishing fist to his face, and yet somehow he’d still managed to shrug off both attacks and break the engagement.

Panting and wheezing, he cried out in anger, declaring them all forfeit as he uncovered a self-destruct button under the pommel of his elaborately decorated vibrosaber. His finger was already upon it, but Tali’s saber was quicker.

Fwooomp-Zzzzzsh!

The saber clattered to the floor, the Weequay clutching the stump of his hand before lunging wildly at the weapon. But even as he landed flatly upon it, the sword skipped and slid across the durasteel deck and flung straight into Leeadra’s waiting hand.

“You mentioned going down with the ship… I feel like that’s just a you problem,” the Pantoran stated coldly.

==

That had ended the fight right then and there. With Irian’Jaxerias “Jax” Erinos placing charges upon the already unstable reactors—and with some assistance from some further charges planted by Aru Law during a stint Tali found herself repressing—the team had exfiltrated with the dis-armed captain as their prisoner and watched the Nova go up in flames. As the battle cruiser immolated and turned into space dust, they’d boarded the Flamboyant Mercorn and made their escape.

She’d no doubts that their stint aboard Corellia’s Delight would not have some form of ramification down the line, the Hutts seemed quite particular about not being trespassed on, but that was a secondary concern for now. They had exacted revenge for the Voidbreaker and taken out a major Dawn Conclave capital ship. The message it would send was loud and clear.

Finishing her drink, Tali headed for the refresher, peeling off the dented and burnt pieces of her armor along the way. Perhaps she could finally have some rest from this endless war in the shadows. There was a nice spring festival coming up on Selen too, she might just go down there and see what that was all about.

As she closed the door to the refresher and turned on the water, her personal terminal blinked to life and flashed a priority key from the Citadel. Rows upon rows of data were being transferred over, a multitude of reports from the DIA’s spies and informants around Arx and Brotherhood space. Something was afoot. Something major…

Phantom Complex
Port Ol’val
39 ABY

The past weeks had been, to put it mildly, hectic. The situation on Dandoran had escalated swiftly and threatened to spiral out of control. The deployment had been swift, some might say chaotic, but the after-action reports filing to her desk made for an impressive read.

From what her Aedile had told her, Zuza Lottson had truly went above and beyond in the unlikely battlefield of the Garganta Galleria Casino, while Sulith Beckett had heroically defended civilians and the Voidbreaker’s Captain alike from the crystal abominations unleashed upon them. Edema had successfully executed her mission in defence of the Imperial Depot, while Archian had provided valuable intel of a local Poachers Camp. Out on a similar mission of intelligence gathering, their mercenary contact, Doon Sulvir, had managed to uncover a Sunken Laboratory not far from the depot. Sven Rawioni, bless his paws, had provided dubiously useful, but absolutely endearing intelligence about a feline café located within the Casino. Tali only hoped the pets had managed to evacuate safely…

Shifting over to the second pile, Tali kept reading as even more impressively, Leeadra Halcyon had clearly gotten a hankering to pilot a corvette again as she’d taken part in a supply raid. Also working for the Severians, but on the opposite side of the faction divide, Magik had taken out a high priority target, though the details around it remained as elusive as the man himself.

The pile dwindled until at the bottom a singular, thin file remained. A black ribbon ran around its perimeter, instantly evaporating the Twi’lek’s elation and pride. With mounting trepidation, she opened the file and read the brutally short report written by another agent. It detailed a small skirmish at the Imperial Depot, not far from where Edema had been facing the crystal abominations. The target had been similar, but far more dangerous. At the end, the report simply stated: “Agent Yezid Kandor—Status: KIA.”

Tali stared at the datum stamp, with a sense of disbelief. Surely this had to be some sort of error, or a mistake, or a cunning ruse. But in her heart she knew it was none of those things, it was the price they paid for victory. Or what passed for victory in a four-way civil war. The Principate was even weaker than before, and the Revenants seemingly united under Zyft Yadar. That might have been a silver lining, with how inflamed the Brotherhood’s relationship with the pirates had become.

She closed the file with a heavy sigh. He was part of the Living Force now; it was up to the living to make sure his sacrifice would be remembered and mean something. The fighting was over, for now, but a new threat had emerged despite both Severian and Revenant alike retreating to lick their wounds, Tali was under no illusion that they wouldn’t come to blows again before long.

In the meantime, the unclear allegiances and general disarray the conflict had wrought upon all sides was the perfect hunting ground for Qel-Droma. Lots of shadows to make their own and new informants to buy on the cheap. There would be no rest for the wicked…

Port Ol’val
Dajorra sector
39 ABY

“I have to hand it to you, Renny, when you gave me those coordinates, I thought you were going soft in the head. No way is there a better place to sell our goods than Kessel, but—” the amicable trader paused to pat the breast pocket of his worn spacer jacket that clacked with the telltale sound of credit chits, “—when you’re right, you’re right, my friend.”

“I am glad you found the local exchange agreeable, Isey, but you might want to dial it down before we get back to the docks,” the cautious Kiffar replied. “I did tell you this place is not like most ports you visit.”

The Human gave a dismissive scoff. “I wasn’t born yesterday, but this place don’t look so bad. Down in the Wet Spot—”

“Blind Spot,” Renny corrected, with a sigh.

“—it was all hololights and cantinas, and the girls, don’t see outfits like that in the Core.”

“Need I remind you of your wedding band, Isey? I was your best man, after all,” the Kiffar tutted.

“Hey, you know me. No harm looking?”

The Kiffar merely shook his head, dreadlocks swaying over worn features that still creased in a weary smile. The Human’s enthusiasm was delightfully contagious.

The pair made their way from the glim and glam of the entertainment districts, through Jerem Plaza, and into the Ducts leading back to the docks. The sounds of music grew distant, the smell of sweat and recycled air replaced by humid rock and sand dust. Lumen strips lighted their way, hanging haphazardly from the ceiling of the smaller walkway Renny had chosen as their route. Port Ol’val never slept, but at this hour, he’d judged a less-used tunnel preferable to the main arteries.

Isey was humming a particularly catchy tune that a ravishing Zeltron singer had been performing at the Sub Ol’val concert hall, the holo-adverts having been plastered all over the streets, when the Kiffar’s ears picked up a sound that didn’t match the pace of their walking. A pebble skipped on stone beyond the bend they’d just passed. Sand crunched under a boot.

He grabbed the Human by the arm, wasting no time with an explanation as he tugged him along and towards the growing hubbub of the spaceport.

“H-hey, what the…?” Isey yelped, but knew better than to stop and question the Kiffar’s brash actions. He’s saved his hide more than once, and this looked like one of those cases.

They fleeted down the winding tunnel, feet skidding on bare stone and shoulders bruising where they met the confined walls at sharp turns. Isey was barely keeping up with the energetic Kiffar, a life of sitting in a cockpit having ill-prepared him for such cardiovascular activity. The smuggler, however, was light on his feet and could easily have run faster still, but keeping his friend safe, especially when coming here had been his idea all along, weighed him down.

Their pursuer did not relent, the sounds of scrambling never far behind and slowly gaining. The Human had lost all sense of distance and scale within the asteroid base, so when they suddenly emerged out of the tunnels and onto a narrow gangway overlooking the grander docks with its multitude of platforms and docking cradles, he almost vaulted over the railing and into the abyss. Only the sharp tug of Renny’s green arm on his collar kept him from an untimely plummet as he was yanked back and away from the tunnel mouth.

Turning around, Isey saw the smuggler pull out a vibroknife from his boot, pressing his back against the stone and lying in wait for their pursuer to burst out behind them at any moment. The sounds of approaching footsteps were close now, so very close. He could see the tension in the Kiffar’s eyes, the choice between fight or flight already swung the other way. He did not want to watch the inevitable and turned away—right into the dark muzzle of a snub-nosed blaster pistol.

“Drop the knife, or I make your friend a real laserbrain!” the mugger growled, her face hidden behind a helmet that crudely imitated a Mandalorian design.

Renny snapped around, spitting a native curse as he realized the literal tunnel vision he’d fallen for, and let the knife clatter onto the walkway. Not a moment later, a winded Rodian emerged from the tunnel, holding a shock baton and reeking of exhaustion. One look at the Kiffar and he jabbed the weapon into his side, shocking Renny into a crumpled pile.

“That’s for making me run, sleemo!” he grunted in Hutteese.

“L-look, we’re just passing by and were already leaving. There’s no need for violence…” Isey began, but the woman cut him off with a jab from her blaster.

“Not before paying the Ol’val Tax, you’re not.”

“T-the Ol’val Tax?” Isey stuttered.

The mugger prodded the bulging jacket pocket, the sound of credit chits unmistakable.

“O-oh, right…that.” With trembling hands, he plucked out the chits that represented all the gains he’d made on this route, and the month before. Maybe he should have stuck to the Core lanes.

“Give ‘em here,” the irate Rodian grunted, stepping past the crumpled Kiffar and yanking the chits from his hand.

“W-wait, I was going to—!” Isey yelped in surprise, some of the chits slipping from his hand and clattering on the walkway.

“You clumsy idiot!” the female mugger growled, her patience running as thin as the Rodian’s. This had supposed to be a quick and easy job.

Instinctively, the Rodian bent down to collect the missing credits, both muggers’ attention momentarily occupied by their ill-gotten gains. That was all the opening Renny needed. Rousing from his crumpled state like a wild beast, he snatched the vibroknife off the walkway and rushed the Rodian. Pushing Isey aside, he sank the blade into the mugger’s shoulder before he even knew what had happened, the scream of pain piercing even through the rumble of distant ion engines.

Pulling his weapon free, Renny slashed at the female in the faux-Mandalorian helmet, but she was quicker on her feet and managed to backpedal out of range. The snub-nosed blaster lined up with the vengeful Kiffar and spoke.

The scene was illuminated in a flash of crimson, reflecting off the walkway and nearby landing platforms. Two more times the weapon spoke, its high-pitched whine etching itself into Isey’s memory as he watched his friend crumple to the ground with smoke rising from his back. He would not be getting up a second time.

The female mugger brushed past him, grabbing the injured Rodian by his good arm and pulling him away. The man was still clutching a handful of stolen credits as they made for the tunnel and their escape. They did not get far.

A sudden wave of repulsor wash blasted across the walkway, a pair of searchlights sweeping over the scene as a squat patrol craft swooped into view from above. The drone of its engines drowned out all else as it hovered to a stop and the side door opened to let out a trio of armored individuals. The muggers had barely reached the tunnel mouth when they came under fire, a searchlight beam illuminating the female seconds before a tight fusilade of blaster fire cut her down.

“Suspect down,” one of the three stated with the same detachment one lists a series of hyperspace coordinates. None of the troopers seemed in the least concerned with either Isey or Renny. “Situation over.”

Managing to gather his wits enough to stand, Isey approached the closest one as they looked about ready to board their shuttle once more. “What do you mean, situation over?” he pressed. “T-the other one got away!”

The trooper turned around, facing him with a fully-enclosed helmet that left no clue of their gender or disposition. “They killed him?” He gestured at the prone Kiffar.

“N-no, but they stole—”

“Then we’re not interested,” the trooper grunted and turned around. “Your credits are your problem. On Ol’val, we only care you don’t go killing each other.” The shuttle departed as quickly as it had arrived, the enforcers leaving the two corpses where they’d fallen.

An hour later, Isey sat behind the familiar controls of his YT-2000 light freighter. Renny’s remains were in a cold storage crate below deck, awaiting return to his homeworld. He knew the smuggler would have liked to be buried there. As he grasped the control yoke and nervously swiveled the ship around towards the shimmering force field and the stars beyond it, Isey felt a wave of resentment swell within him.

No police would have almost been preferable to this mockery that he’d been subjected to. How the people calling this place a home dealt with it, he could not comprehend. At least in the Core, there were rules, and although he had no love lost on the inefficient offices of Coruscant’s or Corellia’s police, at least they tried to do the right thing.

He did not know how, but he knew he had to try and fix that. For Renny, and everyone else like him. There were stories, legends, circulating in some of the Outer Rim cantinas, and perhaps with a bit of luck from the Force, he might be able to find the right people to make it happen…

Port Ol’val

“Andt don’t do anything I vouldn’t do.” Those were Tali’s last words before leaving for an important House meeting.

Aru had stayed behind, fulfilling his duties as Aedile for a change, much to his annoyance. The Quaestor’s meeting was in Bespin, and he knew all too well the kind of hospitality that was offered to Diplomats on the Cloud City.

The Human sat at his desk and grasped the amount of paperwork Tali had left for him. Attached to some documents were stickers with notes that the Quaestor hoped Aru would read.

“Huh…” Aru picked a file that was dated almost a year back. It had his signature. “How’d this end up here?”

The Quaestor’s share of papers had been moved to his desk. Tali’s pile of documents was half full with the Aedile’s own files that were either poorly attended to or forgotten all-together.

A protocol droid knocked on the door, and announced without waiting for permission.

“His Excellency the Proconsul is here to see you, Master Law.”

“Kaka?” Aru perked up. He wasn’t waiting for Ruka’s appearance, but wasn’t bothered either. “What are you waiting for? Let him in!”

The office’s door slid open with a swush sound. The Mirialan figure stood tall and with a serious demeanor, as ever.

Ruka entered the office. What he had expected did not come to be;t was far worse than what he had imagined. It immediately caused his eye to twitch and his jaw to drop.

“Law! What the hell is that thing doing inside?” The Proconsul gestured towards an enormous Bantha that was nested near the left-side wall of Aru’s office.

“That thing, has a name… It’s Kaka.” Aru leaned back on his chair and pulled out a cigar from his drawer.

Reacting to his voice, Kaka the Bantha yawned, before resuming the slow munching it was doing on…

“Are those?” Ruka squinted and looked closer. “House documents?!”

“Relax, Kaka. Kaka is acting as a paper shredder for me. I learned these guys will eat literally anything you give them, right, Kaka?”

Another yawn.

“That’s my boy.”

The Mirialan pressed his fingers against his eyes and made a noise that might have been a closed-mouthed scream. After a deep breath, Ruka decided to sit in front of the Aedile.

“I came to personally deliver the House funds for next month. The hyperlanes ain’t what they used to be, even this side of the Maw. All this Dawn Conclave stuff has given rise to more pirates.”

“Any of them a Tenixir?” Law asked, interested in the matter.

“If they are, they’re hiding it. But I wouldn’t wanna believe the Revenants are dumb enough to attack one of the Clans they just made a deal with. Especially since you all helped them on Dandoran.”

The Aedile puffed from his cigar. A fine ring of smoke flew out of his mouth in Ruka’s direction, before fading away.

“You’re right. We’ll look into that.”

The Mirialan placed a small datapad on the table, sliding it in Aru’s direction. As the Aedile reached to grab it, however, Ruka held it firmly.

“These are House funds,” he articulated his words slowly.

Law smirked. “You don’t have to tell me that, Kaka.”

“Don’t call me that.” Ruka paused, observing what Aru would do next. His next statement was encouraging, like someone speaking to a child. “It impresses me that you’re actually doing your job.”

“Please. Who do you take me for? I take my job very seriously.” The Human then placed his feet on the table and poured himself a generous glass of whisky.

A massive sigh. Ruka got up and turned to leave. No words of farewell.

“I’ve left a note for you on that datapad,” he said before opening the door.

“It just says, ‘Aru, NO!’”

The Proconsul barely smirked. “Yes, and I want you to apply that to every situation possible.”

And then he left.

“Hmpf, that Kaka. He actually has some fun in him. Meesa like it muy muy.”

A few minutes later, the protocol droid knocked again.

“Sir, your BH commission is ready for you.”

“Tell them I’ll be over in one minute!”

The Aedile got up and picked a small sheet of paper. He then placed it on Kaka’s pile of paper to eat.

“Make sure you really munch on this one buddy.”

Only the title of the paper was visible. “Aru’s BH commission (Blackjack and Hookers).”

The Pride of Corellia
Port Ol’val
39 ABY

“Get back here! Hey!” Duletto Catanis shouted, the Lasat angrily waving his fist out of his V-35 Courier at the fleeing would-be customer.

“Thanks for the ride, sleemo!” the scarpering Human spat over his shoulder, leaping over a shuffling GNK-droid and disappearing down an alley far too narrow for the speeder to follow.

The veteran driver of Hot n’Ready Rides spat out a string of curses before leaning back against the worn headrest and sighing. Things like this were far too common, and normally he might have been able to survive a few dodgy ‘customers’ like this, but with the credits going into the stabilizer repair and the port engine already acting up, it wasn’t looking good.

Of course he’d known Ol’val was a place of dodgy business dealings, but it seemed to have become even worse of late. Sure, there wasn’t open war in the streets and most of the fires had gone out, but it was becoming intolerable to live within the asteroid station. Something would have to change, or he’d not be the only one to leave for good.

In the streets outside his cockpit, a traveler dressed in a long brown trench coat raised a finger to her ear, eyes trailing after the fleeing crook. Dull grey plastoid armor flashed under her coat as the sleeve pulled back from the motion.

“He’s coming down the alley. Human, male, mid-twenties, black hair, one-seventy-ish tall. Can’t miss ‘im with that garish jumpsuit.”

There was a buzz of acknowledgement from the other end of the comms and the traveler’s thin lips spread into a wry smile.

Feet pumping, soon slowing to a brisk jog, the delinquent in question snickered to himself. What gullible idiots! The port had always been a shady place, and if you weren’t smart enough to realize that, you didn’t deserve to get ahead. That was just the law of the duracrete jungle. Expect everyone to double-cross you and keep a blaster or blade at your side, or else expect to get robbed blind. That was the ethos he lived by and why he was well on his way to becoming a real bigtime player around these parts!

“Hey, you got a light?” a low voice grumbled to his right as he emerged out of the alley onto a proper road once more. Turning around, he was just about to offer some flippant remark when a meaty fist impacted his face with the force of a runaway speeder.

“Huh, looks like it’s lights out for you,” the bulky Devaronian chuckled to himself as he grabbed the unconscious thug by the lapels and snapped a pair of magcuffs around his wrists. As he moved, his heavy trench coat shifted momentarily to unveil pale grey armor, its style paying homage to the famed Clone Troopers of the Republic.

“Target in custody,” he grumbled into his comms as he hoisted the man over his shoulder, plying his credit chit out of his pocket and inserting it into the same device to transfer whatever ill-gotten funds were on it.

The female traveler acknowledged the message with a double-click of her comms, before approaching the cursing driver like hailing a ride. Once he rolled down his window, she pulled a credit chit from her pocket and handed it over.

“Here, I think your previous passenger simply forgot to pay. But don’t worry, he’ll have a while to think about ride etiquette where he’s going,” she smirked, a badge of gold glinting over her breastplate.

The Lasat accepted the credits with a confused expression; this level of generosity was not common on Ol’val.

“Uh, thank you, ma’am. I wasn’t aware the Enforcers bothered with such things, but I’m happy they—”

He was cut off by a soft, if slightly mocking chuckle.

“Oh, we’re not with the Enforcers.”

“No? Then who are you guys?” Duletto inquired.

===

“Paladins!” Enforcer-Captain D’Sylva spat like clearing his mouth of a foul taste. “I know their kind. Nothing but a bunch of amateurs playing galactic rangers on the Outer Rim. A gaggle of meddlers more likely to stir up a gang war than help anyone.”

The Enforcer-Captain’s bushy mustache trembled to the pace of his flaring nostrils, heaving breaths of his barrel chest fuming out great lungfuls of humid air that reeked of whisky and cigarros. Tali Sroka beheld the veteran lawman with muted reservation, finding his physical presence as welcome to her senses as his baton was to the skulls of lawless gunmen.

“Be that as it may, ve don’t exactly have many laws on Ol’val to begin vith,” Tali sighed. “Andt vhat few ve do have, they haven’t broken a single one of. That’s according to your people.”

“So, you’re going to let them infest Ol’val and play sheriff on our turf?” D’Sylva blurted. “It won’t take a month before the cartels take notice and once they do, they won’t last long at all.”

“Andt vhat vill they do? Start shooting them, on our station?” Tali pressed. There were few laws on Ol’val, but a guarantee on your life was one of them. Even the cartels begrudgingly respected the efficacy of the Enforcers on that regard.

“You can’t expect us to keep them safe…”

“I’m not, but don’t underestimate them. They’ve managedt to crack down on petty crimes remarkably vell. The public likes them, andt vith more favorable vordt of mouth going aroundt, ve’re getting more traders coming in by the day. If this keeps up, Ol’val vill be back in its oldt glory days vithin a year or two.”

D’Sylva let his steely eyes settle on the purple Twi’lek that seemed to have escaped a brothel and found a respectable attire to parade around in. She didn’t have the faintest of clues what she was meddling in. The cartels might have been weakened in the aftermath of everything that had happened, but a cornered beast was dangerous, and even he knew better than to pick a fight with a man with nothing left to lose.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, ma’am. I hope you’ve got the stomach for what’s about to come,” he said and left her office with brimstone on his lips.

Phantom Complex
Port Ol’val
Late 39 ABY

Tap, tap, tap.

The soft, rhythmic tapping of a stylus against the polished glass counter of the Quaestor’s desk filled the otherwise silent office. Stillness surrounded the Twi’lek as she delved deeper into the newest internal security report handed to her by the Enforcers.

Petty crimes were down. Significantly so, and overall outright criminal activity was declining rapidly in almost every sector. Residents were reported as being far more upbeat and merchant traffic in the Docks had grown steadily. New businesses were being founded, and from the ruins of their bitter struggle against the Dawn Conclave, it seemed new life was being breathed into Ol’val. The old Shadowport had not yet seen the last chapter of its story.

So why was she so nervous? Why did she feel like something—elusive—was awry? Like she was making a glaring mistake, or that something, or someone, was about to throw all of this into jeopardy?

Something was wrong. She could feel it from the tips of her lekku to her toes. It ran down her spine in waves of discomfort and as her stylus bounced off the glass once more she stoped, realization hitting her.

“Aru?” she inquired, a slender digit depressing a comms unit on her desk. She raised the call key, and was answered by static alone. She tried again, to no avail.

“Oh Bogan tell me he’s just sleeping on his job again…” Tali thought to herself as she pushed off her chair and fleeted across the office to the door. Mounting dread in her mind, she passed into a dimly lit corridor that still smelled of fresh duracrete and made her way over to the Aedile’s office.

She paused at the doorway—the double-wide doorway he’d had installed to make room for his pet. A shiver of revulsion ran down her being as she ran her access codes through the locks and stepped inside Aru’s den of scum and vice.

“Vhat the…?”

Her shock could not be hidden as the former boozing cave had been cleaned up entirely, every last trace of its previous occupant stripped from within as if purged from living memory and sandblasted clean of its very walls. The office now looked like any other within the Phantom Complex, utilitarian, sharp, and cold. No sign or scent remained of the Aedile, or his ‘personal touches’, including the adopted Bantha he’d employed as a flimsishredder.

Pacing across the room to the work desk she’d so often found him slouched over, passed-out drunk or high on narcotics—and yet with annoyingly competent report figures idling on his screen—she laid eyes upon a simple envelope placed upon the chair. It carried the seal of the Consul’s office.
With trepidation, Tali picked it up and tore open the letter, finding only a single curtly worded missive within.

We regret to inform you that a vacancy has been manifested. Due to reasons of Consular privilege, the former holder of this post will no longer be at your disposal. Please accept our apologies for the inconvenience. He will not be missed.

At the end of the single page she saw the Proconsul’s signature and seal.

“Oh Bogan damnit,” Tali sighed as she slumped into the Aedile’s chair. “I’dt just gotten comfortable dealing vith his kark, now I needt to findt a replacement andt learn to suffer them…”

A Quaestor’s work was never done.

Shadow Complex
Port Ol’val
40 ABY

Avery Watson ran his hands along the smooth featureless surface of an expensive office desk. The dull reflection on its surface showed a man still coming to terms with his newfound purpose in life. He had asked to be more—and life, or the Force, had provided.

“I hope you’re adjusting vell?” Tali Sroka inquired, holding an armful of binders against her chest. “There’s not much time for a proper induction to your tasks, but I’ll do my best to guide you. Ashla knows ve can’t trust Aru’s notes,” the Twi’lek muttered, casting a look at a colorful scrapbook the former Aedile had helpfully left for their replacement. Some of the pages were sticking together and Tali had no desire to know why, while the ones that didn’t were crammed full with various scraps of notes all drawn over in bold marker scribbles.

“I think I’ll manage,” the auburn-haired Human replied, sliding the notebook off to the side with a muted look of disgust. “Anything in particular you’re expecting of me, Quaestor?”

“At the moment?” Tali adjusted her grip on the binders. “I’ll let you sink your teeth into these. Just the daily reports andt vhatnot. Sign off andt approve, shouldn’t be anything interesting. Nothing happens aroundt Lifeday anyway.” She stepped closer and laid the small tower of paperwork on his pristine desk.

“I see,” Avery nodded. Whatever expectations he’d had of being an Aedile, this was definitely bypassing them by an uncomfortable margin.

“I’ll see about getting you in touch vith the intel officers once they get back to their posts. Once you get more comfortable running the day-to-day, ve’ll addt more to your plate. Don’t vant to overwhelm you in one go,” Tali smirked.

“Right, makes sense. Small steps,” Avery agreed, though even this small mountain was looking daunting enough. How had Aru managed to handle all of this while maintaining a balanced and healthy—oh, right.

“One question, if I may?” he inquired as the Twi’lek turned to leave.

Tali paused, hand on the door controls, and turned to look over her shoulder. “Vhat’s on your mindt?”

“Why me?” The question was innocent enough, and to be expected. The hiring process, if one could call it that, had been like so many things on Ol’val, abrupt, adhoc, and unexpected.

Tali pulled her hand back from the door controls, turning around to face the man behind the desk with a coy smile. “Vhen I first vas promotedt to Quaestor, my first Aedile turnedt out to be an alchemy-crazed Sith. Vell, not so much turnedt out, as already vas andt got progressively vorse. Vhen she left to chase some ancient ritual, she placedt a gambler in her steadt. Not saying Aru didt a badt job of it, but I vouldt have preferredt to have fewer banthas in the office—don’t ask.”

Avery pressed his lips together.

“So, vhen it came time to replace him… I figuredt there hadt been enough adventure for a vhile. Yes, they both hadt their strengths andt they didt vell in the post, but ve’re finally bringing Ol’val back to normalcy. I neededt someone that lookedt like Ol’val’s future as my right handt.”

“Devilishly handsome and roguishly good looking?” Avery cracked with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, right. I guess I shouldt have hiredt Doon…” Tali mused, tapping her chin.

“You wound me,” he sighed, shaking his head. “But I get your point. I shall aspire to be as mundane and boring as you would want our Shadowport to become.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Vell, I vouldn’t vant this place to become too boring,” Tali replied with a wink before opening the door and departing.

Avery shook his head and grunted with bemusement. This was his life now, apparently. At least the view was nice.

Cartel Territory
Port Ol’val
Late 40 ABY

“Unacceptable!” Daros Uvenki hissed, pacing impatiently around the stuffy room filled with choking cigar smoke. “We should never have thrown our lot in with the Hutt…” The last captain of the Mal Company felt his hand shiver as his temper threatened to get the better of him and he grabbed the twitching appendage before others could notice his momentary weakness.

“It seemed like a wise choice at the time,” the synthetically modulated voice of Vallan Provost replied. The Rodian seemed nonplussed about the situation, but Daros knew it was all an act. They both knew their empires were crumbling underneath them and what little remained of their once-glorious cartels were but pale shadows, allowed to exist by the Blind Man’s mercy.

After their failed attempt to usurp control of Ol’val, that had seemed like an agreeable existence. They’d bet all on Whallatta—and lost. Surviving the Dawn Conclave’s attack that followed, they’d been lucky to still be alive once the dust settled, but now…

Grainy footage of a security cam from one of their underground brothels played in the background of the smoke choked meeting room, reliving another humiliating bust by these so-called ‘Paladins’ as they stormed the establishment and set free the men and women they’d worked so hard to groom into perfect escorts.

Elsewhere, Vallan Provost’s dealings in illegal tech had suffered sudden and drastic setbacks when his tech-thralls had been beaten back from enforcing their long-standing monopoly on software imports. Facing genuine competition for the first time in decades, profits were down and Provost was keenly aware that every second they wasted was bleeding his coffers dry.

Unless things changed—unless they rid themselves of these self-styled lawmen—their cartels would be bled dry by petty merchants and rogue smugglers if they couldn’t enforce their own rules. So far, Ol’val had only had a single rule: Don’t kill—and get caught. But now, it seemed, these upstarts were attempting to shine the light of the New Republic into the Galaxy’s blind spots.

“What of the Blind Man? Is he not suffering as we are?” Vallan Provost inquired. “He has more to lose than either of us. Why isn’t he making a move? Why are the Enforcers allowing those meddlers to run unchecked?”

“I don’t know.” Daros Uvenki paused in his pacing and leaned wearily against the armored transparisteel panel that offered a magnificent view over Ol’val’s entertainment district.

The sea of neon lights blinked off the pane, illuminating the Human’s creased features. He’d been on Ol’val since the beginning. He was all that remained of the old guard. He knew there would be no return to the days of yore, but he’d be damned if he’d go out with a whimper. The Mal Company had been the founding force of Ol’val, and though but a shadow of its former glory, it still counted some of the best street fighters among its ranks. They couldn’t hope to challenge the Blind Man’s might, not by a long shot, but there were enough of them to make one final show of force.

“I believe he is biding his time,” the Duros stated, oblivious to the Human’s introspections. ”According to my estimates, it would be favorable for him to let the Paladins weaken us into extinction before sicking the Enforcers upon them. It will cost him, but there is no ambiguity about the resolution. We are being exterminated.”

Uvenki scoffed, dry bile rising in his throat. “Exterminated, like womp rats, in our own nest no less. That’s not happening. Not while I’m still here.”

“Then what do you propose? Our forces are few and you are aware of the Ol’val decrees. If we attack the Paladins directly, the Enforcers will be compelled to restore order.”

“I’m aware,” Uvenki murmured. “But there are other ways to send a message…”

===

Jerem Plaza
Port Ol’val

“Thank you so much! Those were my entire month’s wages!” A haggard woman elated as the burly Devaronian lawman handed her back the stolen purse. Or more precisely, held up the pickpocket who’d stolen it by the scruff of his neck so he could return it in person—along with an apology.

“I-I’m sorry I stole your purse…” the delinquent stuttered through a broken lip.

“Next time I catch you, it’ll be a one-way ticket to the prison colony,” the Devaronian grunted and shoved him aside, the scrawny youth scampering to his feet and hightailing it away.

“Thank you, again,” the woman smiled, watching the punk depart with his tail between his legs. “Ol’val’s never been safer. You’re really making a difference, mister…”

“Detective Lurh, ma’am. And we’re simply here to show everyone the New Republic’s law holds sway even out in the Rim. No matter the hell-hole, we’ll clean it up so honest folk can make a living without scum like him taking advantage,” the Devaronian replied.

“That light is so far away, we often forget there even is a Republic,” the woman sighed, shaking her head. “But if it means we can live in peace, I can’t really complain.”

Lurh watched the woman leave, the faintest of smiles tugging at his granite features, when his communicator crackled to life in his ear.

“If you’re quite done with those kids, Agent L, mind giving me a hand over here? I’ve tracked down the speeder thief, but I’d appreciate some backup.” The familiar voice belonged to Ranger Kailisa, an expert in forensics and slicer extraordinaire. Over the years they’d spent cleaning up the Rim’s crime infested hives, the pair had grown rather fond of eachother, although nothing beyond professional relations was approved among the Paladins.

“On my way, Kai,” Lurh replied. “Sorry, I mean, Agent K,” he added with a chuckle.

“If I’d not encrypted this net myself, I’d be mighty cross with your lack of opsec, Lurh,” Kailisa’s voice chimed in his ear. “I’ll be over at 53rd and Blastcap road.”

“Copy that, heading there now,” Lurh said as he mounted a snub-nosed speederbike and headed off.

===

”—I’d be mighty cross—zzrkhs—Lurh. I’ll be over at 53rd—zzzzrpt—stcap road.”

Vallan Provost sweated beads and he loathed perspiration to begin with. Trying to nail down the signal was like pinning an eel to a wall with a Hutt’s tail—slippery and thoroughly beneath him.

“Transmission ended,” he suspired as all that was left in the speakers was static. “I got a partial trace to Jerem Plaza, but which quadrant… impossible to say for sure.”

Daros Uvenki waved him silent. “Doesn’t matter. We had a location, 53rd and… stcap road?” He paused, going through the vivid map of the shadow port’s streetmap he’d committed to memory. “Blastcap road, intersects 53rd close to one of our racketeer’s hideout. I’m sure of it.”

“Then, we make our move?” Vallan inquired, patting sweat off his brow with a handkerchief as he unplugged from the slicer station.

“Yes, time to show those bastards who really controls this station.”

Cartel Territory
Port Ol’val
40 ABY

Detective Lurh opened his eyes to a throbbing headache. The burly Devaronian tried to raise a hand to assess the damage, only to find the tug of binders clamping his wrists to the chair he was sitting in. His left eye was swollen shut, and he was fairly certain he’d broken a rib or two, but he was also sure he’d given out worse than he’d received.

“Fraking cowards,” he muttered, recalling the ambush.

Barely had he arrived to help out Agent Kailisa when thugs had burst out from the woodwork, or whatever passed for that on a blasted asteroid-like Ol’val. He’d expected them to come at him with knives and murderous intent, but clearly, they had orders to take him alive. A few broken arms and a fistful of teeth was the price they’d had to pay for that privilege.

He’d tried to get Kailisa safe, but the stubborn agent wouldn’t leave him. She was always like that, too kind to give up on her friends, Lurh thought with dismay. She should have left him. She should have taken the out when he gave it. She should have…

“Awake again, are we?” a smug voice sounded as a pillar of light emerged across his vision to the tune of cycling door pneumatics. A gruff man of squat features, short buzz-cut hair as black as coal, and dressed in deep red fatigues seemingly a mix between uniform and mining jumpsuit stepped into the cell.

Lurh recognized him immediately. He wouldn’t have been much of a detective if he hadn’t.

“Captain Daros Uvenki, I presume,” Lurh spat with a low grumble. “If you wanted to meet me, you should have just asked.”

“I don’t care about you,” Daros growled. “Only that you deliver a message to whatever pompous idealist your ilk take orders from. Ol’val is ours. And the Mal Company does not share turf.”

There was a long silence before Lurh let out a stifled snort. “Oh wait, you’re being serious? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, the Mal Company is a little runt of a gang and the Blind Man runs the station.”

A set of vibro-knucklers sank into his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

“The Mal Company just took out every agent you had on Ol’val, you arrogant frak. And we can vent them out the airlock if you’d prefer, but we don’t want to make this too hard on you, so here’s the deal: Take your band of meddlers out of our station and go pick a fight with the Hutts for all I care. Set foot on our turf again, and we’ll have your heads,” Uvenki hissed.

“Big words,” Lurh grunted, gasping for air. “And a lot of boys just to nab the two of us. You sure your boys are ready to break the peace? I hear the Blind Man doesn’t like it when people start blasting.”

“You doubt my sincerity?” the Human said. “Very well, I’m sure your boss would too, so let me make sure he gets a hands-on message,” Uvenki hissed as he drew his vibroknife.

==

Paladin Outpost
Outer Rim
Two days later

Detective Lurh stumbled out of the automated shuttlecraft in a stupor. A sack on his head, the Devaronian tripped and tumbled onto the hangar bay floor, his armor broken and bloody.

“Get a medic, quick!” One of the attendant rangers cried out, rushing over to help the injured man. As he reached him and pulled off the storage sack, stamped with the insignia of the Mal Company, he recoiled in horror. The Devaronian’s mangled face stared back at him, barely recognizable, with a pair of red severed hands tied across his neck.

“T-they have Kailisa,” he slurred. “The b-bastards must pay…” Lurh slumped unconscious onto the deck, bleeding from the bandaged stumps at the end of his arms.

==

“Is it done, Uvenki?” Vallan Provost inquired, the augmented Rodian’s eyes glazed over as he scanned the Ol’val holonet for more news of those pesky Paladins’ actions—there were none to be found. The leader of the Fly On The Wall seemed to spend more time in that virtual world than the real one, much to Daros’ annoyance. He did not like being treated like a second-tier attraction.

“Indeed, my friend,” Daros Uvenki replied, forcing a smug grin on his creased face. “I doubt we will be hearing from them anytime soon, and just in case they do decide to intervene, we still have some collateral,” he added, holding up an office badge emblazoned with the insignia of the lawmen.

“Good. Very good,” Vallan replied in a breathless monotone.

“You don’t sound convinced?”

“I am…concerned,” Vallan admitted.

“About what? We crushed them like bugs.”

“Not you, the Blind Man, I had expected a response from him,” Vallan admitted.

Daros felt his knuckles turn white, once again so easily dismissed by his alleged ally. “This does not concern him.”

“Everything on Ol’val concerns him and his lack of a response—approving or not—concerns me.”

The pregnant pause failed to be filled with words, comforting or boisterous. There was only silence, the silence of the Blind Man.