Tal’mahe’Ra Report Fiction

Zakath sat in the middle of a small forest clearing, his long tail curled up around his legs as he slipped into meditation. Having finally been relieved of heavy duty to the Clan, the Barabel had taken the opportunity to relax and go on a hunting trip, to ignore the business and politics of the Dark Brotherhood for a too-brief time.

A long hissing sigh escaped him as he opened his mind to the Force, reaching out to feel the life around his him, as Atyiru had taught him. He could feel the numerous life forms that inhabited the forest, bustling around and going about their daily activities, completely unaware of machinations and schemes, concerned only with survival.

If only I can be as they are.

Zakath sighed and tried to recenter himself after that errant thought, refocusing on the life energy and trying to find peace within himself.

MOVE!

Zakath reacted without thinking, leaping to his feet and throwing himself sideways. An instant later, a burst of blaster fire began to spray the area where he was just sitting. Snarling, he dashed forward to where a huge fallen log stood, his BlasTech E-11 blaster rifle propped up against it. Snagging the rifle, he leapt behind the log and took cover. As he hid, the blaster fire began to intensify, although somewhat strangely, it didn’t seem to be trying to focus on him specifically.

“Keep Zakath pinned down- we will deal with this Undesirable scum ourselves! And then the Grand Master will reward us all!”

Zakath let out a roar as the Force-amplified words boomed across the landscape. Those words meant only one thing to him.

The Inquisitorius had found him.

Grasping his rifle, Zakath took a quick peek over the top of the look. He could see various troopers surrounding the area in a large semicircle, their armor identifying them as Iron Legion troopers. But what immediately attracted his attention was the three black-robed men standing right behind the troopers. Obviously the Inquisitorius agents, they were oddly not moving, instead seemingly content to observe the action. Zakath’s eyes narrowed at them before ducking back behind the log.

They had just implied that they would deal with him personally… so why weren’t they moving?

Zakath crept to the closest side of the log and risked another look at the three men. They now had their hands raised up to the sky and appeared to be chanting. After a second, Zakath could feel dark power wrapping around and through them. And then they threw their hands downward.

Zakath was instantly pinned onto the ground as he felt the sheer power of the Dark Side crushing him, as if grinding him underneath its heel. A heartbeat later, sheer agony inflamed every nerve ending in his body as a cloud of dark energy appeared and began to wrap around him. For the briefest of seconds, he felt warm. And then his blood turned to ice as the energy began to attack his scales, slowly beginning to dissolve it. He tried to choke out a painful groan, but found that his throat was crushed shut as well, as if someone was intent on choking the life out of him.

You are Undesirable scum. The Dark Brotherhood is better off without you.

Zakath could taste the sheer hatred that dripped from the Force-transmitted thought, as if it were poison that burned on contact. He was beginning to see black clouds appearing rapidly at the edge of his vision as he struggled in vain to escape the dark grip he was in.

You will die. This outcome was inevitable the instant our Grand Master marked you for death.

Zakath couldn’t even let out a whimper as he felt death close in on him, but could only stare up at the brilliant blue sky that was rapidly becoming hidden under black clouds as the Force set his body ablaze. He could only hope that death would come quickly.

But first… the Force will be stripped from you. You are unworthy of its power.

He could see nothing but black clouds now, interrupted only by the ruby light of blaster fire. Had he not been out of his mind with pain, the Barabel would’ve noticed that the blaster fire seemed to be subtly lessening, as if one trooper after another were beginning to stop firing.

When the Force is purged from you, you will-

Almost instantly, the energy dissolved into nothingness, and for a long moment, Zakath wondered if he was dead at long last. His scales were now half-melted into a hardened shell, his nerve endings still rippled with the lingering renmants of the Dark Side’s acidic touch, and he could taste blood in his mouth. It wasn’t until he clawed at the ground with his talons did he realize that the ritual had apparently been disrupted, releasing him from its grasp.

Groaning, the Barabel rolled onto his chest and slowly lifted himself up to his knees, crawling toward the relative safety of the fallen log. He collapsed against it and breathed in the sweet air with deep gasps, feeling the lingering wisps of energy trickling within him. A stray blaster bolt exploded into the ground, reminding him that he was still under threat. Spotting his fallen blaster, Zakath snatched it up and let out a rumbling growl.

Rage now filled his eyes, causing them to explode with purple fire.

The Inquisitorius had found him, but if he was going to die here, he would take as many of them with him as he could.

Snarling, the Barabel propped himself on top of the log and began to fire wildly in the direction of the blaster fire, soon zeroing in on his prey as he began to pick out the Iron Legion armor that flitted to and fro amongst the trees. But in the back of his mind, Zakath wondered where the Inquisitorius agents were.

In a few minutes, it was all over.

---

Zakath was breathing heavily as he finally slumped down to the ground, his bloodrage fading away as he sensed the last of his prey’s life force ebbing away. Letting out a long sigh, he let his head fall back onto the log and closed his eyes, content to just sit there and rest.

“How are you feeling?”

Zakath’s eyes snapped open, and he swiftly brought up his rifle to point it at the speaker, a tall humanoid figure that was dressed in what appeared to be an exotic mix of armor and silk clothing, his face hidden behind a mask. He was slowly walking toward Zakath holding a sword downward in one hand while his free hand was cleaning the blade with a handkerchief.

“Your name,” Zakath hissed as he braced against the log to steady himself while gauging his chances.

“Ah, forgive me,” The figure said as he placed the hand holding the handkerchief behind his back and bowed slightly. “Tamashi Bloodfyre, newly arrived in Clan Arcona.”

Zakath’s body subtly relaxed, but he still kept the rifle pointed squarely at Tamashi’s chest. “And why are you here?”

“I had business at the spaceport,” Tamashi said as he straightened up, resuming the cleaning of his blade. “I happened to overhear the three Inquisitors commandeering the Iron Legion troopers for what they said was for an Undesirable target. Seeing as Eldar is in Arcona’s sphere of influence, I decided to investigate. Rightly so, it appears.”

“Then… you dizrupted the attack on me?” Zakath asked, lowering his rifle a fraction.

“The ritual they were conducting?” Tamashi’s masked head nodded slightly. “They were so focused on it that they never saw me coming. The troopers failed to set up an appropriate perimeter so I was able to surprise the Inquisitors. When you joined the fray, the chaos was enough to divide their attention and allowed us to dispatch them.”

Zakath stared at Tamashi for a long moment and then grunted, struggling to get to his feet. As he stood up, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he tried to get the swaying under control. Finally he opened his eyes and looked at the armored figure.

“Show me their bodiez,” Zakath said finally. “We will need to strip them of any form of identification, and then burn them. We cannot rizk word getting back to their mazterz of their ultimate fate.”

“Of course,” Tamashi nodded. “And after?”

“I talk to the Summit,” Zakath growled. “Thiz attack muzt not go unpunizhed.”

---

“And you’re absolutely certain that they were Inquisitorius?” Atyiru asked intently, her lips pulling down into a frown.

“I have no doubt,” Zakath replied, his voice a low rumble as he stared unblinkingly at the Consul, his eyes glowing with anger. “They named themzelvez servantz of the Grand Mazter, and targeted me specifically- az an Undezirable. There iz no other concluzon I can see.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Uji said, his holographic form clasping his hands behind his back. “What concerns me more is this ritual they were using. If the Inquisitorius is capable of such power, we may be in more danger than previously thought.”

“Yes, our knowledge of Force rituals is a bit lacking compared to others such as Tarentum,” Atyiru sighed and leaned back into her chair, one hand absently playing with her braided hair. “Our strength has always come from working in the shadows, not manipulating the Force so overtly as these Inquisitorius are doing, and I’m hearing rumors from other areas as well… it does not bode well for us.”

“If I may, Consul?”

Everyone paused and turned to face the speaker, who was now pulling back his hood to reveal a handsome face, though unsmiling, with cold and icy eyes staring piercingly at the Consul.

“Go ahead, Braecen,” Atyiru nodded toward the Quaestor.

“The Inquisitorius has proven themselves a danger to us, their rituals especially so. And they dared to attack us openly. This cannot be allowed,” Braecen said, his voice deadly soft. “I propose that a team be put together to answer that threat.”

“A fine sentiment, but we cannot counter the Inquisitorius openly,” Uji replied. “If we go this route, it must be in secret.”

“Indeed,” Braecen replied, his eyes flicking to the Proconsul briefly before returning to Atyiru. “I propose we form a team that has two primary goals. First, to quietly and secretly counter the Inquisitorius activities within our domain, and show to them- covertly and without being actively exposed- that we are not mere prey to be hunted whenever they wish.”

Zakath remained silent as the Quaestor spoke, but his fiery eyes flared up as Braecen continued to spoke.

“This will need to be handled delicately,” Atyiru replied, releasing her braid and steepling her fingers as she considered Braecen’s words. “I agree that we cannot just allow the Inquisitorius to be so brazen in our territory, but we cannot risk attracting the Grand Master’s attention so soon. The Clan isn’t ready for it.”

“I agree, that is why this team will be supported by us covertly, with no overt ties with Arcona,” Braecen nodded at the Consul’s words. “And secondly, if the Inquisitorius is wielding Force rituals against us, then we need to dig up where they acquired such power and claim it for our own. It will not do for the Inquisitorius to wield something so potent without us answering in kind.”

Atyiru considered the Quaestor’s words for a long moment as everybody else waited patiently. Finally she spoke, her voice firm.

“Very well. Zakath, step forward.”

The Barabel obeyed, moving to the forefront and bowing his head in reverence to the Consul. “Conzul?”

“As you have witnessed the power of the Inquisitorius first-hand, and understand the full danger that they represent, I am charging you with this task,” Atyiru began, her voice commanding. “You will form a team that will hunt the Inquisitorius from the shadows, disrupting their plans within our domain, and protecting whatever targets that the Inquisitorius is tracking. Furthermore, you will also begin to investigate the rituals that the Inquisitorius has begun to wield, and claim it for our own.”

“It will be az you command,” Zakath growled out, bowing his head in submission.

“We will support you covertly whenever possible, with an substantial allotment of credits, and more to come on an as-needed basis,” The Consul continued on. “You will operate with full sanction from me. As we cannot risk the Grand Master’s attention however, you will report your activities to Braecen, who will act as my liaison to your team and vice versa. This will give us a cloak, however thin, that your activities are independent. Your communications should be as discreet as possible, however.”

“I understand,” Zakath said as he glanced over at Braecen. The man merely gave a slight nod toward the Barabel, but otherwise remained silent.

“Do you have any questions?” Atyiru asked.

“Only that if you permit it, I would like Tamazhi Bloodfyre azzigned to my command. He iz alzo aware of the dangerz, and iz currently lacking an azzignment. I believe he will prove to be a valuable azzet,” Zakath said before he looked up to meet the Consul’s gaze, his lips peeling back into a toothy vicious smile. “Then we will make the Inquisitorius sorry they ever laid eyez on uz.”

Aifreann, Eldar

The stars were out and twinkling as the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, with a thin gathering of clouds in the distance glowing blood red in the otherwise clear night sky. Most people were beginning to close their businesses for the night, while the cantinas stayed open, hosting bustling groups of weary employees just getting off work and thirsting for a cold mug of beer.

On the outskirts, it was quiet, as most people had either gone to bed, or had went to the center of town for the night. Inside a small single-story house on the far edge, far from any neighbors or prying individuals, Rane Korvach, an agent with the Dajorra Intelligence Agency, was pleased as he checked his sensor feeds and noted no signs of activity. The selection of Eldar as a layover point was a good one and, to date, had attracted little attention from the Inquisitorius; who were thought to have spent most of their attention on Selen and military posts like Arconae Secundus.

“Everything is quiet?” A low voice spoke up.

Agent Korvach turned to look at the speaker, a tall gray-skinned alien named Hantoriv standing at the doorway, his dark eyes staring back at the agent. The only sign of distress that could be seen were the clenched fists. He was a Noghri, one of the species declared Undesirable by the edict of Darth Pravus, the Grand Master of the Dark Brotherhood. A number of such species had been gathered together to help each other get away from the Iron Throne’s reach, and once Clan Arcona learned of it, Atyiru was quick to task the DIA with assisting in smuggling them out.

“So far,” Korvach answered politely, offering a small smile to the Noghri, who ignored it. “Our ride should be here soon, and then we can get you out to Nar Shaddaa.”

“Hmm, we’ll see,” Hantoriv replied in a doubtful tone, his fists clenching and unclenching. “But something feels… wrong.”

“Well, nothing’s on sensors, and our agents in the city has reported that everything’s quiet,” Korvach said as he nodded to the sensor banks that fed in information from the network that surrounded the house. “If anything’s coming, we’ll know.”

Before the Noghri could answer, the sensor beeped, flashing a small yellow light in warning. The two took a look at the sensors and noted a landspeeder driving on the road toward them. They watched with anxious eyes as they followed the path of the landspeeder. It passed the house and kept on going, causing the two to sigh in relief.

“See? No problem.” Korvach said as he flipped the sensors to the next one, to continue tracking the path of the landspeeder. As the image appeared on the screen, there was no sign of the landspeeder. “Hmm. That’s odd.”

“What?”

“The landspeeder, it’s not at the next sensor… and it didn’t turn back,” Korvach replied, feeling the Noghri’s unease now coiling into his own belly. “So where did it g-”

His next word was cut off as the power went out followed by a booming crash that sounded throughout the house. A few seconds later, blaster fire erupted. The agent had just enough time to draw his blaster pistol when the door to his sensor room crashed inward and a emerald bolt crashed into his chest, sending him flying backwards into the floor.

Fiery pain spread instantly from his chest to the rest of his body as he struggled to make out the shifting forms in the darkness. A few seconds later, the lights sprang back on, and he was able to see clearly despite the pain.

Right into the muzzle of a blaster rifle being held by a trooper of the Iron Legion, the elite army of the Grand Master. The last thing that Rane Korvach wondered was that Hantoriv seemed to have disappeared.

A blaster discharge later, and everything went black

---*-

The house was quickly and efficiently searched by the four troopers belonging to the IV Legion of the Army of the Iron Throne, currently on loan by demand of the Inquisitorius. The bodies of the Undesirables were left where they were executed. A tall and skinny Human, clad in loose fitting black robes, strode through the house, datapad in hand. His expression was hidden behind a black mask and cowl, with only his dark eyes visible as he consulted the list upon examination of each body.

“That’s all of them, sir,” The leader of the squad reported as his men assembled in front of the Inquisitor. “The computers were wiped- presumably wired to the Human’s heartbeat. We can have our technicians examine it, but we don’t expect to find anything. No sign of any other presence in the house.”

The Inquisitor checked the list on his datapad, then counted the bodies found so far. His bushy eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to come up short. Finally he turned to the Squad Leader.

“You missed someone. We are one short,” The Inquisitor hissed before consulting the list. “The Noghri.”

The Squad Leader nodded and turned to face his assembled squad of three Iron Legion troopers. “Search the house again, find the Noghri.”

But before they could react, a large object bowled through the throng of Iron Legion soldiers. Caught unaware, the soldiers spilled to the ground in multiple directions. A Noghri continued his wild escape by diving towards the brush surrounding what was supposed to be a safe house. The soldiers quickly regained their composure and began to give immediate chase. The Squad Leader barked a series of orders to coordinate their pursuit, “Fan out! But keep your fellow soldier in your line of sight. Let’s do this by the book.”

Their pursuit quickly caught up to the larger lost alien. While Intelligence had provided information on Force-Sensitive aliens throughout Brotherhood space, it was unable to ascertain the level each alien could harness and direct that power. Difficulties were further multiplied in the system Clan Arcona called home where the Dajorra Intelligency Agency seemed to be intent on spreading misinformation and rumors in opposition to their mission. By all accounts, this was either a Jedi Master of Odan-Urr, a Shadeling formerly of Clan Arcona, or a middling Force-User recently recruited to the Dajorra System. Whatever his circumstances, the Noghri realized that he had been tracked down in exceptional time. He swung his body back and forth; a dare to approach him hand-to-hand.

The quartet of soldiers did no such thing. They leveled their carbines at the alien and ruthlessly opened fire. The emerald bolts tearing through soft flesh and scoring lethal blows in his internal organs. The Noghri unceremoniously fell to his knees before he fell forward to the ground. The strength of that impact was lost in the forthcoming storm, but the soldiers knew their target was felled. Unwilling to risk any further surprises, though, they pumped the remainder of the bolts into his lifeless body until the clips were exhausted. Already, the alien had used a powerful innate ability to Mind Trick them into not seeing him during their initial sweep of the house.

The Inquisitor came up to the body and knelt next to it, his gloved hand reaching down to grab the Noghri corpse’s head and shift it toward him. After a moment, he nodded and rose to his feet, retrieving a holo-communicator from his belt, activating it. A few seconds later, and the hologram of a cloaked Iridonian appeared.

“Chief Inquisitor.” The Human said, bowing his head in deference.

The hologram’s cold yellow eyes stared up at the Inquisitor before finally speaking, his voice soft but ice cold. “Report.”

“The information supplied by your informant was correct. We located and eliminated a safehouse containing the Undesirables that matches the roster supplied to us,” the Inquisitor said before hesitating a second. “Unfortunately we were unable to obtain evidence that implicates Clan Arcona.”

“Not unexpected,” the Chief Inquisitor scowled slightly. “The Clan of Shadows hide themselves well. Proceed with the plan. Information will be relayed as we obtain it. But obtain evidence at any cost, Inquisitor. The Iron Throne is determined to finally bring Arcona to heel.”

The Inquisitor bowed his head again.

“As you command.”

The hologram disappeared, and the Inquisitor put away the communicator, just as the Squad Leader came marching up to him.

“Sir, the bodies?”

The Inquisitor turned and looked back at the house.

“Leave them where they fell,” He said finally. “Let Arcona see what happens when they defy the Iron Throne.”

---*-

Rulvak appeared impatient as the Neti leaned over the charred remains of the Noghri corpse. Shifting from foot-to-foot, he cleared his throat several times to no avail. Ood Bnar, the Medical Officer aboard the Nighthawk, was not to be rushed. He had not rushed anything in his long life and he made no plans to start rushing - or making mistakes - now. The Captain would have to wait until his analysis was complete. He could offer no substantiated answers until he performed a complete autopsy, but he could make an educated guess from his initial inspection.

“This Noghri was killed by blaster fire.” The collective group surrounding the proceedings groaned in response. They all could see that the alien had been gunned down, but they were hoping for distinct information. Something that would enable them to connect the troublesome dots popping up through the Dajorra System. Despite the Dajorra Intelligence Agency’s best efforts, someone was getting to their safe houses for the Undesirables.

Arcia Cortel, formerly the Proconsul of Clan Arcona, had hinted that someone within Galeres was leaking information to the Inquisitorius. She had been unsuccessful in ferreting out the traitor before she was reassigned to Clan Odan-Urr to support their recovery efforts. The idea of being sold out by one of their own made the crew’s collective stomach turn. Overwhelming evidence supported Arcia’s beliefs, though. Dozens of hits had been made throughout the Dajorra System against Undesirables - both inside and outside of Clan Arcona. The Shadow Lady was not pleased in her inability to protect them all. To rectify this issue, she had tasked Captain Rulvak Qurroc and his highly specialized team to investigate the leak. Tal’mahe’Ra - the newly created team - was tasked with preventing further assassinations within the system.

Rhace Tarrin, Commandant and leader of the ship’s Special Forces, approached flanked by his squad leaders: Jake Blazer and Stang Mach. His eyes darted over the scene before him. He reached the same revelation as the Medical Officer, but he withheld stating the obvious. “That is very precise firing, Captain.” The pair of squad leaders nodded in agreement. The shooting had been exceptional if not precise. “I’d wager only a couple units in the Brotherhood could fire with that level of accuracy.”

“I’d hear your wager, then,” Rulvak prodded. The Captain was a better Sith than a soldier and a better soldier than a ship’s Captain. But he had been granted the captaincy of the Nighthawk because he was the man that exhibited all of the traits their Quaestor sought: competency, rationality, and loyalty. The Dark Adept was often guarded with his praise of his members, but he had continued to bestow awards and promotions upon Rulvak more than any member of his House.

“Well, certainly, our men could do this,” Rhace began his thought deliberately. “That’s because our men are trained to fire almost daily. Only a couple units drill as much, if not more, than our men aboard the ship.”

The Neti, Ood Bnar, nodded in agreement. “I can access proficiency reports processed through the Shadow Academy to verify exactly which units are drilling. As long as it is registered in the database, I can provide a short list of options.” He pulled his datapad from within the folds of his robes and began to type away. While he researched the potentiality, another group of individuals approached from the direction of the safe house. A red skinned man led the group that Rulvak immediately recognized: Ernordeth, Kharoc, Emily, and Shawnathan.

“What did you find?” The question was posed to Ernordeth, but Emily responded first.

“It was a by-the-book strike. I doubt they knew what was going on before the kill shots came. I’d reckon it took a total of thirty seconds to sweep the habitat and confirm the kills on all three inside.” The Quartermaster of the Nighthawk knew her way around a shootout. Not only did she serve as the provisioner of weapons aboard the ship, but she was a damn good shot, too. Her proficiency with her dual slugthrowers had earned her a lot of admiration amongst the team members.

Kharoc jumped into the conversation, “I would love to know how this one got all the way out here before they caught up to him. Were we able to determine if he was shot prior to the others or after?”

“I can answer that,” Ood piped in. “This Noghri was definitely killed after the other three; how he evaded the initial assault I cannot answer. Additionally, I am sending you a list of units with the pre-requisite training time: Legions of Scholae Palatinae and the Grand Master’s Iron Legion.”

The group remained quiet for several moments. They knew the answer. Darth Pravus was operating the Iron Legion within Dajorra space; the Royal Clan - Scholae Palatinae - would not dare intrude on the First Clan’s territory. The Grand Master, however, was on a mission to remove what he considered a blight on his Brotherhood. The mission Atyiru had given them had become much more difficult.

“We still have to prove it,” Rulvak said. “Let’s get this information to Zakath and his Sergeant Tamashi. Maybe they can track down this lead while we use this information to pursue the traitor in the Clan.”

---*-

BAC Darkest Night

“”…and we are transmitting the data now,” The hologram of Captain Rulvak Qurroc was wrapping up his report to Braecen Kaeth, currently aboard the BAC Darkest Night. “Preliminary analysis suggests that only two organizations possesses the training to execute such a strike with this level of precision. Legions of Scholae Palatinae and the Grand Master’s Iron Legion.”

“Your opinion, Captain?” Braecen asked softly, his icy eyes staring piercely at the minutely shifting hologram of Rulvak.

“Iron Legion commandeered by the Inquisitorius,” Rulvak answered without hesitation. “The targeting of Undesirables specifically without harming the rest of our interests lends weight to the Inquisitorius. Scholae Palatinae may be trying to curry favor with the Grand Master, but I would think they would try to hurt Arcona outright, not just Undesirables under our protection.”

“Very well,” Braecen said after a moment’s thought. “Have your analysts determined if this strike force has left Eldar yet?”

“Negative. Spaceport departures have been normal, and there’s no indications by our DIA operatives on planet that any Inquisitorius or Iron Legion personnel has attempted to leave the planet. Whoever these people are, they’re still on site. Given that we have more safe houses there sheltering Undesirables, I would think they’re probably prepping for another raid.”

“Your opinion is noted,” The Quaestor said, his icy eyes glittering in the hologram’s light. “Return at once to Selen, our analysts will have further leads for you by the time you arrive.”

“Understood.”

The hologram faded away and Braecen turned to face the two visitors that remained standing at attention in front of his eyes. One was a tall but slender Sephi male, dressed in high quality silk and armorweave, with a massive sword behind his back, bound by a thick chain that looped around his chest. The other was a massive scaled alien, clad only in black pants and shin-guard armor, and otherwise wearing little clothing, showing off his thick grey scales, his tail flicking to and fro. His glowing purple eyes were focused completely on the Quaestor.

“Zakath, Tamashi,” Braecen began, clasping his hands behind his back. “This will be your first mission, and it is a vital one. You will dispatch the entirety of the Tal’mahe’Ra to Eldar. You will locate and destroy this Inquisitorius strike force.”

“As you command,” Zakath hissed out, his eyes glowing brighter. “Do you want the Inquisitorius agent alive or dead?”

“Dead, I don’t want any trace being linked back to Arcona,” Braecen replied curtly.

“Of course. We will see to it,” Zakath said before turning to leave, Tamashi following in turn.

“But not right away,” Bracen called out, stopping the two, who turned to look back at the Quaestor. “Interrogate the Inquisitorius agent first before you dispose of it. Extract as much information as possible. But in the end, no evidence, no witnesses.”

Zakath and Tamashi both nodded to him and then left. Braecen followed their departure with his cold eyes, and as soon as two disappeared out the door, he lowered himself into his seat and turned on his terminal, waiting patiently for it to load. A few seconds later, he was entering his high level access codes and pulling up a list of Undesirable safehouses located throughout the Dajorra system. A click later, and the list was narrowed down to those assigned to Eldar.

The Quaestor leaned back into his chair and steepled his fingers together as he considered the information arrayed in front of him.

---*-

Tal’mahe’Ra Base
Arconae Secondus

Zakath Agrona stood at the head of the briefing table as he watched the members of his new team begin to filter in. The first to enter was his second-in-command, Tamashi Bloodfyre, the ashen Sephi male immediately taking up a position next to him. Following shortly behind was Riverche, one of the few Clawdite members that had joined the Dark Brotherhood. The small female alien took up her assigned position and waited quietly, her eyes constantly flicking to and fro as the other members of the team entered.

The next to enter was Nath Agrona, his adoptive daughter. The Iridonian female gave him a slight nod but otherwise remained silent, taking up a position opposite Tamashi and settling herself into her seat, pale hands clasping together.

Xenna Azara came in, her deep auburn hair cut into her usual bob haircut with ponytail in the back, a vivid contrast against her pale skin. Following quickly behind her was the last two members of his team, the Iridonian only known to them as Thorn, and a nondescript Human male who bore the codename PaRapRappa, but informally known to the team as Anthony.

As the last members took their places, Zakath cleared his throat with a rumbling growl and began.

“You know why we were formed,” Zakath said, his glowing eyes meeting each team member’s for a second before moving on. “The Inquisitorius has quietly declared war on us, and we are Arcona’s answer. And today, we have our first mission to strike a blow against them. Tamashi?”

Tamashi nodded and stepped forward as Zakath took a step back, tapping a button on the briefing table. Instantly the room darkened slightly as a holographic still of a grisly scene appeared. It was of an inside of a house in what appeared to be a small kitchen. On the floor lay the corpse of an Omwati female, the still capturing the wisps of smoke floating up from her body. The image shifted then to another scene, this time of a hallway, in which the corpse of a Rattakai male was sprawled downwards, his body bearing the evidence of several successive blaster bolts to the back.

“This house is on Eldar, one of the planets within our sphere of influence,” Tamashi began, his voice quiet but clear. “Less than 48 hours ago, one of our DIA safehouses was raided by what appears to be an Inquisitorius strike team, composing of elements of Iron Legion troopers, numbers currently unknown. For those of you who do not know, the Consul has ordered that all species deemed Undesirable by Darth Pravus be under our protection, should they accept it. This safehouse was one of many who was sheltering the so-called Undesirables before they could be transported out of Brotherhood space.”

“Excuse me,” Xenna spoke up then. “I know the Grand Master wants the Undesirables purged, but would he truly wish war with Arcona? We have enough allies that it would be a very risky proposition for him.”

“A reasonable question,” Tamashi nodded to her. “To answer that, we think no. At least not openly. The Grand Master is powerful, and would no doubt crush us, but an outright war now would cost him dearly, especially when he’s also focused on the Jedi. But right now all we have is suspicions, we have no proof that the Inquisitorius is involved. And even if they are, they would be acting with sanction from the Iron Throne. That, we cannot overtly oppose at this time. Our mission is to find the Inquisitorius strike team and eliminate them- quietly, with no links leading back to Arcona.”

Zakath nodded to Tamashi and resumed his spot at the head of the table.

“The goal is elimination of the Inquisitorius team,” Zakath growled out, his eyes flaring up then. “But I want the Inquisitorius agent leading the team taken alive. The rest of the team will be killed, but the Inquisitor I will interrogate personally before we dispose of them.”

Zakath’s lips lifted into a toothy smile as several of the team winced at the thought.

“Be ready to leave within the hour. This mission is not just to eliminate the strike team, however. I want this understood by everyone here. I want to send a clear message to the Inquisitorius. Darth Pravus may rule the Dark Brotherhood, but in Dajorra, we are the masters. Every Inquisitor we come across is to be taken alive, if possible. I will torture each one to death. I want each new Inquisitor to consider being assigned to Dajorra a death sentence.”

Aifreann, Eldar

Death was in the air tonight.

The Inquisitor could almost taste the coming blood as he waited patiently, listening to the chatter coming in on his headset as his assigned Iron Legion troopers moved into position. Bringing his macrobinoculars up to his eyes, he studied the silent and dark one story warehouse building yet again. If he relied purely on physical senses, then nothing living appeared to be inside the silent and dark building, looking out to the world as if it were simply another warehouse building that was shut down for the night.

But the Inquisitor wasn’t looking at the building with physical senses alone, he had the Force.

Peering through the lens of the Force, he could see muffed signs of life flickering throughout the building, although most of the forms seemed to be concentrated within the center. Drawing upon his seeking abilities, the Inquisitor’s vision sharpened and he could see the flickering forms of life huddling together as if seeking protection in numbers.

There would be no such protection tonight.

The mask hid the Inquisitor’s smile as he lowered his macrobinoculars and glanced behind him at the armored figure who was standing respectfully a few feet away.

“All units are in position?”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” The Iron Legion squad leader nodded slightly. “We are ready to storm the building on your command.”

“Begin.”

He watched silently as the dark building suddenly lit up with flashes of blaster fire as his Iron Legion troopers began their assault. Giving them two minutes to create an initial breach and secure the entrances, the Inquisitor was soon following his men into the building, lightsaber in hand.

It only took little over ten minutes for the Iron Legion troopers to secure the building and herd the mass of aliens into the central cargo area where the bulk of the warehouse’s contents were being kept. The Inquisitor’s dark eyes studied the teeming mass with dislan, seeing various Anzat, Cathar, and even the odd Barabel within the group, all Undesirable. Letting a slight sneer touch his lips, the Inquisitor retrieved his datapad and brought up its contents, beginning to compare the list against the aliens rounded up by the Iron Legion.

The Inquisitor’s sneer twisted into a scowl as he seemed to come up short. He lowered the datapad and stared out over the group, searching for something. A low growl came out of him as he didn’t see what he was seeking for.

“You are all Undesirable,” He growled out at the group, his Iron Legion troopers raising their blasters at the aliens to prevent any ill-advised movement from them. “But your leader is missing. The first one to tell me where the Omwati is, will live. The rest will die.”

The Inquisitor waited for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as the silence stretched on.

“Very well. Troopers, op-”

The Inquisitor was interrupted as a scream came from behind him. Whirling around, the Inquisitor ignited his blade as an Iron Legion trooper stumbled out of a side room a few steps, a hole smoking in his chest, before he fell down to the floor dead. Right behind him was an Omwati male, glowing blue lightsaber in hand.

“Hold fire,” The Inquisitor barked out as the Iron Legion troopers raised their blaster rifles. “I will take care of this one myself.”

The Omwati stared grimly at the Inquisitor as he shifted his blade into a guard position, his large eyes unblinking. The Inquisitor smiled as he moved forward, resting his scarlet blade against the Omwati’s lightsaber.

“You are brave, Omwati,” The Inquisitor said after a pause. “Brave… or foolish. If I were you, I would be running far away from here.”

“That is the difference between us,” The Omwati replied, his voice a high musical tone. “I would be betraying my oath as a Jedi if I fled these people.”

“What good is an upheld oath if you are dead?” The Inquisitor chuckled softly. “Their fate is the same regardless if you run or fight.”

“You may be able to live with yourself if you ran,” The Jedi retorted. “I prefer not to.”

The Inquisitor stood silent as he stared piercingly at the Omwati Jedi. After a long moment, he nodded slightly.

“Very well. If death is what you seek, then you can have it.”

The Inquisitor let out a snarl as he attacked, his scarlet blade recoiling and springing forward into a sweeping attack aiming to decapitate the Omwati in a single stroke. The Omwati jumped back, his sapphire blade blocking the attempted chop, before spinning into a low undercut that would’ve sliced the Inquisitor’s legs off had he not jumped back in time. The Omwati remained calmly defiant as they circled each other, blades humming as they moved.

The two seemed evenly matched at first as they lunged and whirled around each other, but the Omwati was clearly beginning to tire as the Inquisitor rained down a flurry of blows, the sapphire lightsaber becoming progressively slower to intercept as it continued. Finally, with one final fake attack, the Inquisitor slammed his blade deep into the Omwati’s chest.

The Omwati’s voice gurgled as his lightsaber dropped from suddenly nerveless hands, the sapphire blade vanishing. An instant later, the Inquisitor’s scarlet blade also vanished as he thumbled it off, watching as the Omwati fell to his knees, teary eyes staring up at him.

“It will… take more… than that,” The Omwati croaked out before kneeling over, dead.

The Inquisitor stared coldly down at the body before looking up at the approaching Squad Leader.

“Account for everyone here.”

The Inquisitor remained by the Omwati’s body as he watched the Iron Legion troopers count off everyone against the list that was supplied to them. After a few moments, the Squad Leader returned. His eyes narrowed as he noted her cautious movement.

“Well?” He growled out.

“We are missing ten of the thirty gathered, sir,” The Squad Leader reported reluctantly. “We think they escaped while… while you were dealing with the Jedi.”

The Inquisitor stared down at the Omwati’s body, growling softly as he digested the news. After a moment, he looked up.

“So that’s why the Jedi sacrificed himself. It wasn’t for them," He hissed out behind gritted teeth. “He was enabling the others to escape.”

“Yes sir,” The Squad Leader nodded slightly. “We might be able to pursue, but the local law enforcement is already alerted to our presence, so we have lit-”

“No matter,” The Inquisitor said, raising a hand to cut off the Squad Leader. “Our primary mission was a success regardless. We’ll round up the remaining Undesirables at a later date.”

“Understood,” Her helmeted head swung toward the group of Undesirables still under guard by the remaining Iron Legion troopers. “Shall we proceed with executions?”

“Proceed,” The Inquisitor ordered. “Bring the Jedi’s body with us. We may be able to identify it against known records of the Jedi that escaped our assault on new Tython. If we can, it adds to the evidence of Arcona’s defiance of the Iron Throne.”

“Yes sir,” The Squad Leader spun on her heels and barked out orders. “TS-1045, and TS-2414, bring the Omwati’s body with us! Everyone else, execute the Undesirables! No survivors!”

Almost as one, the Iron Legion troopers raised their blasters and opened fire, pouring scarlet energy bolts into the suddenly panicking mass of aliens. The Inquisitor stared coldly as the aliens were cut down. After a few seconds, he raised his eyes up to a small camera that was recording everything from the raised ceiling. He felt a grim smile touch his lips as he raised a gloved hand toward the camera, reaching out with the Force. Clenching his hand into a fist, he watched as the camera suddenly exploded into sparks as it was crushed from within.

Spinning on his heel, the Inquisitor walked toward the exit as the Iron Legion troopers formed up behind him.

There were more attacks to plan.

—*-

The Citadel, Selen

It occurred to Larrik that most people in his position would be pissing their pants right about now. Then again, most people weren’t used to dealing with homicidal Force-Users who were just as likely to kill you as they were to ignore you. As he lit his stogie and blew out a plume of smoke, Larrik mused that it was amusing to him that the monster that was sitting across from him, glowing violet eyes staring unblinkingly at him, was one of the more saner ones. Although he wasn’t entirely sure of the silent man standing behind the monster.

“So Zak, why are we talking in person instead of over com?”

The purple eyed monster- a Barabel- snorted as he waved away the smoke trailing away from the Mercenary’s cigar with one hand as he pushed a datapad toward him. Larrik’s eyebrows rose slightly as he accepted the pad and glanced at it. A few seconds later, his lips thinned around his stogie as he read through its contents.

“This what I think it is?” He asked as he blew out another plume of smoke. “Not related to the current mess you nuts are in, too different.”

“Correct,” Zakath said gravely as he leaned back into his chair, staring at the Human. “What do you know of the Inquisitorius?”

Larrik paused and stared at the Barabel for a long moment, Zakath’s reptilian features was unreadable as always. Another heartbeat and he snorted as he slunk back into his chair and took another drag from his cigar.

“Enough to stay out of their way,” He replied at last. “Bunch of nutjobs out to… how does your big boss put it as? ‘Purify the Brotherhood of the Undesirable elements?’ Something like that. Bad news all around.”

“Indeed,” Zakath nodded slightly. “We believe that a small group of Iron Legion troopers, led by an Inquisitor, is operating on Eldar as we speak.”

Larrik thumbed through a few pictures attached to the datapad’s files and nodded as he studied the digital images.

“Yeah, would need to see the sites in person to confirm, but it does look pretty textbook for those blokes,” Larrik agreed as he continued to review the datapad. “Aren’t that what you guys are formed for, though? Root the secret boogeymen out?”

“Yes,” Zakath grunted slightly as he scowled. “But we are currently… distracted. That is why we’re speaking in person.”

“Anything to do with the bombings here on Selen?” Larrik asked, actual curiosity entering his tone for the first time in this conversation.

“Not your concern,” Zakath growled. “I’m hiring you to investigate Eldar, not Selen.”

“Oookay,” Larrik raised a hand in surrender. “Eldar. If there’s Inquisitorius involved, my fee’s going up. Guys are bad news enough without me getting tangled up in your mess.”

“You will be compensated accordingly,” Zakath replied as he nodded toward the datapad. “And we are not asking you to eliminate the group. That task will fall to us after we deal with the current situation. We want you to investigate and track them. You will report the results of your investigation when we arrive.”

“So it’s recon and intel-gathering,” Larrik asked as he looked up from the datapad. “No entanglements otherwise. If they catch on to me before you guys get there?”

“Retreat and report. We will make other arrangements then, depending on the situation.”

“Alright. Think that should cover everything,” Larrik nodded as he tucked the datapad into his jacket pocket. “And Zak?”

“Hmm?”

” You should tell your boy there that he needs to loosen up,” Larrik spoke then in accented Huttese as he nodded toward the silent man standing behind Zakath. “Grab him a beer or something. He looks like he’ll snap if he even tries to relax.”

”I don’t even bother,” Zakath replied in guttural Huttese. ”It’s not ‘dignified’ for a warrior to relax in that way.”

“Ah, one of those,” Larrik smirked and gave a mocking bow. “Alright, I’ll be on my way. Light up my comm when you boys arrive.”

Larrik let out a sigh as he stepped out of the office, the door sliding shut behind him, as he set his stogie between his lips, the cherry tip glowing brightly as he took a drag. The spot between his shoulder blades were beginning to itch as the Mercenary considered the situation.

Well now, this is getting interesting. Wonder what the bosses will make of this.

He blew out one last smoke before letting the cigar drop to the ground, its glowing cherry tip quickly ground out by Larrik’s boot. He gave one last glance at the closed door before heading toward the hangar, a slight smirk touching his lips.