At Arms Length

[Ghev Dralin]

Qiilura Sector
The Tingel Arm
1700 hours

Space in the Qiilura Sector looked the same as anywhere else in the galaxy, the same black void splashed with twinkling stars and the faint glow of nebulae from light years away. But to some, the Tingel Arm had become the subject of much mystery, and to others it had become a place to avoid.

A flash, brief but stark in the void, indicated a change to the otherwise empty sector. A ship, large by most standards but now dwarfed by more modern warships, erupted from hyperspace and began a slow, leisurely crawl, it's destination not apparent.

Large and beetle-like, the fearsome warship appeared somewhat tranquil, like a battle-hardened Acklay relaxing after a long fight for it's life.
Shaped like the curled body of a wasp, and bristling with weapons, the 'Osiris' hadn't seen war in over 4 years. Sister ship to the 'Galidraan', it had spearheaded part of the Mandalorian and Alliance fleet under the command of the late Goran Holtz. Now, it was reduced to ferrying forces across the galaxy, before releasing them into the wild, to seek out a new home for the warrior nomads.

"Word has it that a lot of ships have been disappearing here lately" said Tracyn, sitting in the command chair. The war against the Empire had steeled Tracyn into something of a leader, enabling him to climb the ranks from pilot to squad leader, then after the death of his Uncle Holtz, into the command chair of the 'Osiris'.
"Well, we're flying a big ship. It'll be kinda hard to lose it" smirked Alora, patting Tracyn on the shoulder.
"Still... keep an eye on the scope, lemme know if anything unusal pops up" he advised. "Anything we don't like, then you have my authorisation for weapons-free"
"What if it's New Republic vessels?" Alora asked.

"We're not at war anymore Alora. They're no longer our allies. if they try to interfere... well, lets cross that bridge when we find it" he muttered.
"Commander Velor, the scout parties are ready to launch" said the communications officer, turning to Tracyn.
"Very well, give them clearance" Tracyn said, looking out of the viewport. Space looked so welcoming to him, a vista of opportunities waiting to happen. He'd never had chance to explore after the war. The aftermath seemed to make it a pointless effort, fighting for freedom when he'd ended up tied to a military career.

The 'Osiris' continued on her journey, but the four Lictor-class dreadnaughts attached to it began to drift away, until they were safely undocked and their drives powered up.
"This is Commander Velor. Good hunting, ner vode".

With another flash, the 'Osiris' dematerialised from view, travelling at lightspeed toward Mandalore.
"Nicely handled" said Alora. "I'm gonna check on our guest".
Heading through the dimly lit corridors of the 'Osiris', Alora marched toward the brig, an area she'd seen a lot of since being assigned to the 'Osiris' in an advisory capacity.
"How is she?" Alora asked, as she approached the guard, nodding to him and patting his shoulderplate.
"Well, she's eating. Guess that's progress" the guard muttered, folding his green gauntlets across his grey breastplates. Alora touched two fingers to her helmet, grey with a blue trim, and marched inside.

She missed her old armour; halfway through the war, Ghev had completely militarised the Mandalorians, initiating a rank-and-file system that hadn't been implemented since the schism between the Death Watch and the True Mandalorians.
Her armour, grey with blue, had come to represent a Commander under Ghev's regime.
She cleared her throat as she entered the brig, and stared into the only occupied cell. The woman inside was a shell of her former self, hollow and vacant. Alora felt her gut tighten.
"Sis?" she said, stepping closer to the bars.
There was no response.
"Captain Orade" Alora snapped, and Orla flinched in her cell. Alora relaxed, and sat on the grimy floor, resting her head on the bars and watching her sister.

*********************

Deltooine Space
The Corporate Sector
Tingel Arm

"Ner vod, I can't see shab out here" Mira growled, leaning forward to rub the condensation from her viewport.
"We gettin' fogged again?" asked Darryn, her co-pilot. Their shuttle, small as it was, was armed to the teeth. Mira had ordered all weapons on standby; she didn't like the stories she'd been hearing about this sector of space.
"Yeah, from the inside. Must be a dodgy coolant injector. I'll get it checked when we dock with 'Galidraan' at 1900" she murmered, intrigued by the scanners.

Darryn leaned over, and double-checked the read-outs.
"There's something out there" he said, squinting out of the fogged viewport, but not being able to locate anything with his eyes.
"Really? Well, imagine that, another ship in space. What are the odds?" Mira snorted. "I'm calling it in, might just be another smuggler".
Mira scrambled a signal to the 'Galidraan', which was stationed at Ulicia, also in the Corporate Sector.
"Mand'alor, we have an unidentified vessel, how should we proceed?"

They waited for a response. Then, the comm crackled with static, as Ghev Dralin replied.
"Might just be smugglers, but be cautious. Lotta ships have gone missing from that area, so keep an eye out for pirates" Ghev advised.
"Copy that. Mira out".
Darryn was still squinting and rubbing coolant from the viewport.
"I'm getting visual..." he said, as something streaked toward their ship, causing alarms to blare and the entire vessel to jolt.
"They fired on us! Fierfek... c'mon, saddle up Dar, we're on" she roared, powering up the thrusters and flying straight toward the other ship.

"Getting a lock on it's trajectory..."
"What for?" Mira asked, keeping an eye on her read-outs. The ship had turned tail and was remaining steadily out of weapons range.
"He's running, which means he's probably planning a jump" Darryn replied.
"Could be a she" Mira interjected.
"Okay, our non-specifically gendered target is high-tailing it outta here" Darryn spat. "Wait... there he... she... goes" he murmered, as predictably, the other ship jumped away.
"Get it's traj?" asked Mira, looking out of the side viewport, as if expecting the enemy to rematerialise.
"Yeah... on that trajectory, it could only have gone into wild space" Darryn informed her, reluctant to dampen her day.
"Okay... then that's where we're going. Take us into the fringes, then we'll go deeper til we're past the PNR" Mira sighed, leaving Darryn to calculate the jumps.
If it had been any other pilot, Darryn would have argued the near impossibility of finding their elusive target out there, but... Mira wasn't a woman to argue with. The PNR - Point of No Return - would only occur when they were upto the half-way mark on fuel consumption. The thought of exploring alien space for so long was... unsettling.

"Co-ordinates are set. Lets do it" Darryn said after a minute or so. Mira glanced at him, then punched the ship into hyperspace.

[Trenton Vinh]

Trenton stood one pace behind Roth Fenix's left shoulder, staring out the viewport beyond the edge of the Dalonbian Sector. The only planet in sight was the thumbnail sized planet Belkadan. From this angle, it looked like a haven of green and blue amidst the sea of blackness. No distant stars shimmered behind it. As Malfurion had aptly put it earlier, 'If someone had wanted to travel into the endless blackness outside our galaxy, their last pit stop would be on Belkadan'.

The three men inside the ship seemed very different, but they all shared the same thought: Something is terribly wrong.

Roth had his arms crossed across his chest, his long dark hair spilled over his shoulders and down his back. At twenty-seven years of age, he was already one of the strongest Jedi Masters to ever have lived. His eyes reflected the pain and horrors he had experienced in his life. Wise beyond his years, the way his shoulders sloped made it seem like he was carrying a great weight on his shoulders.
Trent realized that he himself probably looked the same way, as both had been carrying the weight of the Galaxy on their shoulders since they were barely teenagers.
Malfurion stood to the side, elbows resting on the back of one of the four passenger seats in the cramped shuttle.
The boy was nearing nineteen years of age, and already was rippling with barely contained Force Power.
Roth had realized early that the boy would be a prime candidate for teaching. Roth and Trenton were both known for their...unique views of The Force.
Malfurion's eyes showed his emotions more clearly than Trent or Roth's, as both had taught themselves to keep their emotions, both visible to the eye and The Force, hidden. The young Jedi's eyes showed a tinge of wonder, excitement, and curiosity. A hint of fear twinkled there as well, because of the dark energy that surrounded this sector of space.

The trio had been dispatched there twelve hours ago, Jet Sumner himself had gone out of his way to request Trenton and Roth specifically.
Trent wasn't quite positive as to why he had wanted the pair to investigate a few lost ships, but he knew Jet wasn't doing it to be friendly. Chances were, that the older Jedi Master was doing it to keep Trent and Roth busy, and to keep them out of the way.
And, perhaps in some manner, he was trying to put Roth and Trent into harm's way.
Jet had grown steadily more and more paranoid of Trent and his friend over the years since the fall of the Empire.
But Trenton knew the man only acted the way he did because he was hurt. Trenton's change was, to Jet, an act of betrayal.
The man alienated Trenton in order to distance himself from his former Apprentice.
Jet distanced himself, because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop Trenton if the Jedi deemed him an enemy.

Trent almost smiled. He had gone from being the Jedi Order's most celebrated hero, to being their greatest fear. Some walked on eggshells around him , others showed their outright hatred for him.

Hatred.
That was a word the Jedi refused to use. But they all knew deep down inside, that they hated Trenton. For what he represented. When one holds the power to destroy you, there is nothing you can do but hate him.

So, Trenton lived in a world where his greatest allies could become, in the blink of an eye, his greatest enemies.
While Trent wasn't so arrogant as to believe he and Roth held the power to take on the entirety of the Jedi Order, he had little doubt that they would ever openly stand against him. If they wanted him killed, they would do it discreetly. Send him on a suicide mission, perhaps even hire a headhunter to kill him. In a way, Trenton longed for the Jedi to make their move. He doubted they ever would, cause as much as they hated him and Roth, they also needed them.
The Jedi may not approve of Roth or Trenton's methods, but that didn't stop them from sending them to do what they refused to do.

Trent thought back to the numerous times Roth or him had been sent off to do the dirty work that the Jedi were too blinded by morals to do themselves.

Assassination, sabotage, downright murder in some cases. But they always made it seem like they had expected a diplomatic solution. If Roth stopped a civil war by eliminating a corrupt senator, the Jedi Council would then criticize him for not finding a peaceful way to solve the problem.


Trent was jerked from his thoughts when the open comm relay picked up a signal. He frowned and glanced at the datascreen, noting the signal came from the planet ahead of them, Belkadan.
He glanced at Roth, who extended a hand. A twitch of The Force and the dial turned until it focused on the signal.
The message was hard to discern, filled with static. A voice that sounded scared was mumbling about something incoherent.
For a moment, Malfurion stared, and muttered, "Turn it up, I can't hear a word he's saying."

Roth took a step over to the comm station, turned the volume up and blared the voice over the speakers. Seconds later, the man's mumbling ceased and he began to scream in between flashes of static,

"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Roth turned the volume down to a more normal level, their ears all rang from the screaming voice.
Ten seconds later, the voice repeated the same words, ten seconds after that, again.
Roth muttered, "Its a recording..."
Trenton nodded, and pointed at the planet Belkadan, "Malfurion, check the database for some info on the planet. Any outposts?"

Malfurion typed furiously, his fingers nimbly flying across the datascreen, "There's a single outpost. A science colony. Looks like they've been around for a while, they were first sent there during the Empire's reign..."

Trent asked, "What are they doing here on the edge of the Galaxy?"
Malfurion typed in a few commands, and a moment later replied, "They're purpose is to view the fringes of the Galaxy, and study any findings."

"Findings?" Roth asked, "As in, anything they found entering the Galaxy?"

Malfurion nodded, and said, "I didn't know there was anything outside the Galaxy."

Trent shook his head, "There isn't. Occasionally a chunk of space rock may come through the empty space in between Galaxies...I suppose they would study that."
Roth wondered, "What did he mean when he said, 'Came from the void'?"

Trenton shrugged, "We need to go check it out. Malfurion, bring up a waypoint for their outpost, Roth, take us in."
Roth nodded and dropped into the pilot's seat. Trent lowered himself into a chair absently, thinking over what the fearful voice said.

"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

[Trenton Vinh]

The sleek shuttle pierced the clouds of Belkadan as Malfurion guided the spacecraft towards the Science Outpost.
The population of the Outpost was a mere twenty-seven people, according to the database.


"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

The recorded comm message played over the speakers, the same thing over and over. By now, all three Jedi had tuned the voice out, but Trent remained carefully aware of the tone of his voice.
He sounded horrified, and psychotic. Maddened. Perhaps insane? Trent did not know what they would find inside that facility, but he had no doubt that it would be nothing good.
The craft landed gently on the docking platform, at the rooftop of the two story facility.
Harsh winds ripped across the planet, and a cold chill rippled down Trenton's spine as the boarding ramp lowered to the duracrete.
He led the way across the platform, Malfurion behind him, Roth in the back. Lightsabers in their hands, unlit but at the ready, they stopped in front of the doorway.
Malfurion stepped in front of the keypad and tapped a command, the door slid open silently.
The wind blasted back Roth's wild hair, and when they stepped inside he muttered, "Close the door behind us. We don't want a draft getting in."

Trent nodded, knowing full well that Roth was being tactful. What he really meant was "Close the door so the bocats and razor cats can't come maul us to death."
Roth wasn't censoring himself to spare Malfurion from fearing death. Malfurion was fully aware of death, and fully capable of defending himself.
But Roth was still being wary of his Padawan, not completely sure if the boy was mature enough or not to begin to learn the more...dark powers Trent and Roth practiced.

The door slid shut behind them, sealing them off from the harsh blowing winds and damp air.
The dark hallway they now stood in seemed to be much darker than it had been moments before. As if the light from the numerous transparisteel windows was somehow not making it through the reinforced glass. Like it was being blocked by something sinister.


"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

The words rang through the facility, and Roth cursed under his breath. The voice of the horrified psychopath was being replayed over and over on the intercom system.
Trent looked down the hallway they stood in. At a hundred meters long, the corridor seemed to grow darker as it grew longer. More than a dozen doorways pockmarked the walls.
To the left, a staircase leading upwards, to the right, one leading down.
Trenton asked Roth, "You go up, I go down?"
Roth nodded, and inclined his head towards the staircase, looking at Malfurion.
His apprentice understood the signal, and turned to move up the steps.
Trent began to step down the dimly lit staircase and said, "Keep me updated if you find anything, otherwise, lets try to keep it quiet. I have a bad feeling about this place."

Roth smiled, "A blind womp-rat would have a bad feeling about this place. Doesn't take Force Intuition to realize something is wrong here."
Trent shot him a grim look before retreating down the steps, "True."

*****



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Trent shuddered when he got to the bottom floor of the facility.
It had grown steadily colder as he had moved down the stairs, and a faint stench filled the air. It was a stench Trent knew well.
Rotting flesh.
Something- or someone, had died here.
Straight ahead of him was a closed doorway, and to his left the hallway stretched a hundred meters. To the right, a doorway into the sub-basements.
The dim hallway was illuminated only by the five strobing emergency lights, the rotating lights giving an eerie look to an already eerie situation.



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

The d**n voice replayed again over the loudspeakers. Trenton resisted the urge to rip the speaker from the wall. The repetition was frightening, and more than a little annoying.
He tuned it out, and stepped forward to open the door ahead of him.
Trent reached towards the keypad to tap the button to open the door pausing when he caught sight of the back of his hand.
The crimson emergency strobes made his skin look like he had been dipped in blood.
Feeling like he was being watched, he pushed on the pressure tab and the door rumbled open before his eyes.
The room looked like it had once been a neat and productive laboratory, but it had been destroyed.
The lights had been shattered, all the machinery smashed to bits.
Trenton stepped over a smashed datascreen and stood in front of a table that ran the length of the room.
Vials and bottles had been shattered, their colored liquids spilling over the edges of their stands.
Trent watched as a pool of blueish liquid trickled drop by drop off the side of the table and into a green puddle that rested on the floor.
With each drop of blue that splashed into the green goo, a sizzle erupted from the point of contact, and a small puff of smoke shot into the air.

He turned away from the mess of a room, and returned to the hallway, still lit by the red lights.



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Trenton moved down the hallway ten meters, where a doorway sat on either side of him. Both had windows on the upper half of the doorways; the glass had been shattered.

Trent peered inside both broken windows, seeing empty bunks inside.
Barracks.

He heard a yelp from upstairs, assuming Roth or Malfurion had found something, Trent lifted his comlink to his lips, but before he could say anything, Roth came on saying, "If you heard that, its nothing to worry about. Just a stray bocat got into one of the broken windows. Have you noticed all the machinery is destroyed?"

Trent responded, "Yeah...Keep me updated. Nothing here yet."
He returned the comlink to his belt, and moved to the next doorway. Inside, a kitchen, the drawers and cupboards all yanked open and rifled through. Broken glasses and plates littered the floor. The fridge had been overturned, and spoiled rotting food littered the ground around it.
Trent ignored the smell, and looked around, noticing all the knives had been removed from the utensil cabinets.
He took this as a bad sign.
Most likely, something bad happened, the scientists got worried, and without weapons, they grabbed whatever they could find.



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Trent proceeded to the second last doorway, the final one at the end of the hallway. The door Trent stood in front of was ajar, and Trenton pushed it open with a creaking sound.
This room had its machinery all torn apart too, computers and datapads smashed and stomped on.
His worry had only increased. The only remaining doorway was marked "Safe Room".
This door would have a seal on it, and be thick enough to survive all but the strongest of explosives. Trent pulled the foot-thick door open, hoping the scientists would be inside, awaiting rescue.



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

The room was black. Trent took three steps inside, and the door slid shut behind him ,sealing with a pop.

Trent didn't reach for a light switch. He knew what was here.
Half a second later, the emergency light strobed crimson, revealing the room's contents.
Blood covered the floor, an inch deep at its shallowest.
In the half second that the room had been bathed in crimson light, Trent had caught sight of the bodies.
At least a dozen of them, mouths gaping open in silent screams of pain and terror.
Eyes wide, week old tear stains showed skin beneath the dried blood that covered the corpses.


"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Dried blood covered the walls, as if the killer had taken delight in causing as much bloodshed as possible.
The wounds on the bodies suggested that they had been mauled and slashed, as if the killer had used a sharp blade, but also had fierce jaws.
Trent imagined a fearsome creature with large razor sharp claws and teeth ripping the scientists to shreds, but he belayed that thought.
The hands of the corpses clutched everything from knives to vibroblades, yet none looked as if they had caused any damage to the attacker.
There were nail marks on the inner walls of the door, as if the victims had hoped to cut through the foot thick durasteel to get to safety.

Judging by the outside of the door, there had been no forced entry.
That meant the killer had been among the victims. Most likely acting as afraid as they were, taking pleasure from their horror.



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Trent turned away from the horrific sight, feeling slightly sick. He suppressed the urge to vomit, and left the room, tapping the "Seal" key on the inner keypad before closing the door behind himself.
When the door slammed shut, a high-pitched whine cut through the air- the sound of the door locking itself into an airtight state. No raiders or curious adventurers would stumble onto the bodies. Shut away forever inside the steely, blood-encrusted tomb, Trent promised to find out what had murdered the scientists.

He made his way down the hallway, feeling extremely warm, he drew his comlink from his belt, sweaty hands fumbling slightly.
He took a rattling breath, and turned on his comlink. Putting on the strongest possible voice he could muster, Trent said, "Roth, I found the scientists. Meet me on the middle level once you're done up top."

Trent returned his comlink to his pocket, and tried to forget the words that kept repeating themselves, on the loudspeaker and within his own head.



"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

[Roth Fenix]

The azure lines of hyperspace flew by and ended as Aeolan Kicka pulled the Faith Arrow out of hyperspace the blackness of normal space and stars filled his viewport, the planet Belkadan sat in the distance, and eleven other ships emerged from hyperspace around him.

To his right an X-Wing starfighter emerged from hyperspace. Aeolan looked over and saw through the cokpit that it was Jon Rohaeus, his longtime friend. Jon looked over to Aeolan and nodded, he looked ready to take on a planet filled with Rancors, he opened a channel to Aeolan and said “ready for another eventful mission?” Aeolan grinned and replied, “who knows, maybe an Ewok will jump out of nowhere and latch itself onto your face again.” Jon let out an audible sigh, “only you remember things like that.” Aeolan laughed and said, “hard to forget when your friend gets his face beaten in by a furry creature.” Jon chuckled and closed the channel. Aeolan leaned back in the pilot seat and began scanning the area.

Much time had passed since Aeolan flew in the Battle of the Death Star which turned the tides of the Galactic Civil war, having led a successful space assault on the Imperial Fleet while the strike teams had gone and destroyed the Death Star from the inside. Jon Rohaeus had been apart of the strike team that disabled the Death Star’s laser system and had recovered Imperial contraband items that helped the Alliance propel itself to victory.

After the Battle of the Death Star, Vortex lost more of its pilots during the Liberation of Coruscant. Although Vortex lost friends and allies in the battle, they gained new ones in the forms of Garyn Bakara, Varian Morent, and Tirion Voresh, three of the best pilots in the Black Star Alliance. They had proven themselves more than capable in many situations.

Vortex had been dispatched to the edge of the known galaxy to investigate the space above Belkadan where contact with a Republic Patrol Cruiser had gone missing. Vortex had been asked by Jet Sumner to investigate the disappearances. What Varian said was what the rest of the squad felt, “something bad happened here, it feels like a death trap.”

Jon’s voice came over the squad frequency, “keep your guard up, we don’t want to get ambushed by who or what’s been attacking the Republic’s cruisers.” Ghrek’s voice came from Vortex’s Corellian Corvette, The Repletion, “are we heading down to the surface as well?” Jon responded, “negative, Jet has Jedi taking care of that, we’re just supposed to search the space around the planet.” Aeolan sighed and put the Faith Arrow into a roll to the left, he looked down at the fighter’s radar and a single blip was on the screen. Aeolan broadcasted, “got a reading, its faint but I’m still picking it up, let’s go check it out.” Vortex turned towards their new destination, in the distance Aeolan could see the outline of a New Republic Corellian Corvette, the ship that had been reported missing. As they got closer, Aeolan could see that the ship was burned all over the hull. Its engines showed no sign of life and static came over the comm. when Aeolan tried to make contact. Aeolan took the dove down and skimmed the surface of the Corvette, he spoke over the comm., “I’ve never seen hull damage like this before, it looks as if it was burned through, like it was hit by a ball of flame and the hull looks as if it was melted through.” Jon’s tone seemed wary, “I’ve never seen damage like this, new Remnant tech maybe?” Aeolan shook his head, “doesn’t look like any Remnant tech I’ve seen.” Aeolan looked down at his console, “no life detected, not even remains of dead bodies, something odd is going on, I don’t like this.”

The rest of Vortex knew that when Aeolan was feeling uneasy about the situation something was definitely wrong. Jon nodded to himself in the Hurricane “all right squad, break formation and search the area for anything that could help.”

Vortex squadron broke off into different directions. Aeolan headed away from the planet, constantly checking his scanner for whatever showed up. After about seven minutes, Kile, Vortex’s engineer, spoke over the comm., “found something, looks like an asteroid, but I’ve never seen any maps that marked an asteroid field around or even near Belkadan. I’m headed in to check it out.”

Aeolan broke off from his route and headed in the direction of Kile’s X-Wing. As Aeolan got closer, he could see the faint outline of the lone asteroid. The surface had small grooves along the sides and looked as if it had small mounds all over its surface. Kile’s voice came over again, “stop, its moving,” silence came, then Kile’s voice sounded distressed, “its glowing all over its surface, recommend we get out of here.” Suddenly, a jet of what looked like red hot plasma jetted by the Faith Arrow and sped off into the empty space. Kile’s voice came over, yelling with fear, “KRIFF! I’m hit, its eating through my hull, get the hell out of here squad, AHHHH.” A bright esplosion occurred where Kile’s ship had been.

The asteroid-shaped object began to accelerate forward at an incredible pace for a ship of its size. The bumps along the asteroid broke off and accelerated just as the bigger asteroid had, not asteroid, but a ship¸ thought Aeolan.

Jon’s voice came frantically over the comm., “lock S-Foils in attack position Vortex, engage the enemy.” Aeolan immediately put the Faith Arrow into a diving barrel roll, avoiding another barrage of plasma from the alien ship. Smaller versions of the alien ship came towards Vortex Squadron, firing the same deadly plasma as their mother ship.

Aeolan tailed one of their fighters; its small frame made it a difficult target for Aeolan to target. Aeolan finally locked on to the craft and fired, the laser fire flew straight towards the craft.

Instead of evading, as Aeolan thought the snubfighter would have, his laser blasts veered off course and disappeared, as if into a black hole. Aeolan cursed under his breath as he broke off from his pursuit and flew over to help Varian who was being tailed by another one of the alien fighters.

Aeolan fired at the ship, each blast disappearing into the mysterious void propelled by the ship. Then, Aeolan fired one of his Proton Torpedoes at the ship, then fired a barrage of laser fire at it. The ship caught the proton torpedoes and a few of the laser bolts, but not enough, and the craft exploded into chunks of rock.

Jon’s voice shouted over the comm., “Vortex we’re getting out of here, get ready to jump to lightspeed.” Aeolan shouted back, “to where?” Jon retorted, “I don’t care just pick somewhere!”

Aeolan flew over to the large alien ship, the red-hot plasma flew by his ship, Aeolan skillfully avoiding the fire. He fired at the ship, the lasers veered off course once more, just as they did with the snubfighters. Coordinates flashed across Aeolan’s screen, he turned his ship around to jump, the alien fire streaked past his ship.

Aeolan deployed one of his seismic charges as the snubfighters streaked towards him. The Faith Arrow jumped and the peaceful blue of hyperspace surrounded Aeolan.

Jon’s voice came over the comm., speaking only to Aeolan, “what the hell was that thing?”

Aeolan shrugged, “how in the kriff would I know? Do I look like an expert on asteroids who try to kill me?”

Jon sighed, “I can’t believe I let this happen again, something always wrong happens on these missions we do.”

Aeolan’s face turned somber, “who did we lose?”

There was silence then Jon spoke, “the better question is who didn’t we lose.” An even longer stretch of silence enveloped the conversation, “Grehk survived on the Repletion, so did Varian, Garyn, and Tirion. Other than that,” Jon’s voice softned, “no one else.”

Aeolan looked down at his feet, Vortex had never suffered losses so catastrophic in a single battle. Aeolan looked back up, “what’s done is done, we need to get this information back to Jet and Black Star.”

Jon’s voice remained somber, “yeah…yeah you’re right, lets get back to Coruscant and get this over with.” Aeolan leaned back in his seat and Jon spoke again, “there’s got to be a way to kill those bastards.”

Aeolan blinked and said, “they better hope not, if we do, those bastards will never want to face us again.

The remainder of Vortex Squadron pulled out of hyperspace and put in the coordinates to Coruscant and jumped to the galactic capital. The days events ran through Aeolan’s head and he eventually drifted off to sleep, explosions and visions of his closest friends being obliterated by the alien ships of impossible design.

[Ghev Dralin]

Qiilura Sector
The Tingel Arm

"What have you got?" Ghev asked, striding onto the bridge of the 'Osiris'. After losing contact with the Deltooine scout party, he'd ordered the 'Galidraan' to jump and rendezvous with the 'Osiris', so they could pool their resources.

Ghev also had a personal matter to attend to while onboard 'Osiris'.
"Sir, we received an emergency transmission. Automated, and the signal was weak. We can't pinpoint it, we just know it's one of ours, and it's coming from wild space" Tracyn reported. Deej glanced at Ghev pensively, then turned to Tracyn.
"How long ago did you receive the transmission?" he asked, brushing a hand through his long sand-blonde hair.
"Approximately 2 hours ago, ner vod. They must have followed that strange ship they reported, into the unknown territories" Tracyn thought out loud.

"It's too early to be making predictions, ner vode" Ghev interjected, taking off his helmet and wiping his brow with his gauntlet.
"Mand'alor, we should begin a search and rescue, send in 'Galidraan' for heavy support, and..."
"No fracking way. I'm not sending anyone out there until we know what we're dealing with, especially not a ship full of vode" Ghev growled, looking at Tracyn as though he'd expected better of the young man.

Deej cleared his throat.
"Shall I recall all scouts? We have ships out there, some have been out there for days" he said, studying Ghev's expression.
"Send out an encrypted high-band message, tell all ships to return to Mandalore immediately" Ghev ordered. "Then prepare the 'Osiris' for lightspeed, we're paying some old allies a visit, after I go and see our prisoner" he said, turning on his heel.
Tracyn and Deej looked at each other, then at Ghev.
"You're... going to visit Orla, sir?" Deej asked, puzzled.
"Now is hardly the time..." Tracyn began.
"I'll explain my actions when you need to know. Get on with your jobs".

Leaving Tracyn and Deej stunned, Ghev strode from the bridge, and headed to the brig. Reaching into his belt, he withdrew a knuckler, small and studded with rounded conicals, and secured it in his fist.
"Guard, open the door" he ordered as he approached the brig. The guard punched in a code, and the door slid open. Inside, Alora sat against the bars of Orla's cell. She turned, and nodded vaguely to Ghev.
"On your feet, soldier" Ghev snapped.
"Sir?"
"I said ON YOUR FEET" Ghev ordered again, making Alora jump and get to her feet. She saluted, frowning, as if biting back a retort.
"Now get outta here, report to the bridge" Ghev said, looking into the cell at the wasted, bedraggled form of Alora's sister.
"Sir, she won't talk, she hasn't since..."
"I'll get her to talk" Ghev stated, leaving no room for question. "Bridge. Now."

Once he was alone, Ghev opened the cell door, and stepped inside.
"Well... isn't this an unexpected pleasure, Ghev" Orla croaked, looking up at him, smiling painfully.
"Okay you fracking hut'uun, we're gonna have a talk. My people are going missing, and I have the feeling you know something about it" he sneered, adjusting the knuckler, then back-handing the prisoner.

Orla cried out in pain, blood running from her mouth. Glaring, she struggled to her feet, preparing for a long interrogation.


*********************

Three hours later, Ghev returned to his study, blood spattered along his gloves and gauntlets. Sighing, he stripped out of his armour, and pulled on a jacket made of leather, from some creature he'd never cared to learn of.
The interrogation with Orla hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. She'd admitted that the Empire had seen deep space exploration as an option to extend it's grasp, but she said there were no 'hidden forces' of the old Empire waiting out there.
She knew nothing of the missing ships, either. He'd beaten her to a pulp, so if she was lying, then her resolve was tough. But then, she was a Mandalorian, so that wouldn't surprise him either.

Disrupted from his thoughts by the chiming of his comm-link, Ghev cleared his throat.
"Dralin here" he said, upon activating the device.
"Ner vod, you have to see this" said Deej's voice.
"I'm on my way" Ghev replied, then shut off the comm-link. Quickly armouring and arming himself, Ghev walked briskly to the bridge.

"What's the news?" he asked upon arriving, standing between Deej and Tracyn and looking at the scope read-outs. "What exactly am I looking at?" he asked.
"Sir, an asteroid just... appeared in this sector, not far from our starboard bow" Tracyn said, switching the screen to a visual of the asteroid.
"What do you mean, 'appeared'?" Ghev asked, impatiently.
"Well, we almost missed it, but then our sensors caught something emerging from hyperspace, and... well, there it is" Tracyn said sheepishly, obviously feeling stupid.

Ghev didn't find it stupid, though. As absurd as the idea was, of an asteroid propelling itself almost undetectably through hyperspace, the news struck a familliar chord within Ghev's mind. Something he'd read once...
"Commander, do we have a weapons lock on that thing?" Ghev asked, looking at the display once again.
"Affirmative" Tracyn replied. Deej moved closer to Ghev, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"What's the matter?" he asked gently, but Ghev shook his head.
"Prepare to open fire on my mark. Also prepare to put the ship into hyperspace when I give the order" Ghev said slowly.
"Any particular co-ordinates?" Tracyn asked.
"Triple-Zero" Ghev replied, meaning Coruscant.

The 'Osiris' opened fire on the asteroid, and Ghev's suspicions were confirmed, as every turbolaser bolt went astray, inflicting no damage what-so-ever when the asteroid should have been blown into dust.
"Make the jump. NOW!" Ghev roared. "Tracyn, Deej, follow me" he then ordered, turning to leave the bridge. As he exited, he heard the ship-wide whine of the hyperdrive activating, and knew they'd made the jump unhindered.
Reaching his quarters, Ghev went to one of the storage shelves at the end of the room, and began fingering through datapads, checking the labels on the sides, until he pulled out an old, scratched model, which far outdated many of the others. But Deej knew there were datapads in this room which outdated even that particular one. It was a Mandalore's journal.

"Canderous Ordo" Ghev muttered to himself, sitting down and switching on the old device.
"Excuse me, sir?" Deej said, taking a seat opposite him. Ghev gestured for Tracyn to sit, too.
"4000 years ago, Canderous Ordo and his men encountered a living asteroid much like the one we've just seen. It had technology unseen at the time, and unseen since" he explained.
"What does this mean?" Tracyn asked.
"It doesn't mean shab, until we have some concrete proof of anything. The asteroid is a phoenomenon that I don't care to attempt to explain" Ghev admitted, "but Ordo's journal states that the asteroid had weaponary capable of melting through beskar'gam like wax".

Deej glanced to Tracyn, and Tracyn looked at Ghev.
"Obviously this meeting is classified. I don't want to cause a panic when all we have is speculation, and journals from four millennia ago" Ghev explained.
"A wise move" Deej added, crossing his arms.
"Tracyn, I want you to send a security detachment to the brig, have our prisoner prepared for transfer" Ghev ordered.
"Transfer? On Coruscant?" Tracyn asked, cautiously.
"Don't question my orders ner vod" Ghev sighed. "Just have it done. I have a feeling she may know more than she's letting on".

[Roth Fenix]

Roth walked steadily up the stairs to the top floor of the facility, he walked slowly, his pace deliberate taking in the facility’s surroundings and condition looking for something that would help them in their investigation. He looked over at Malfurion, lightsaber in his hand, his face a mix of fear and tension. Roth was the polar opposite, his face was expressionless, he concentrated deeply, letting the Force flow through him, always mindful of the events, even the smallest detail, going on around him.

Roth and Malfurion reached the top of the stairs. The durasteel door remained closed. Roth jerked his head to the right and the door opened, revealing the hallway beyond.

"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Malfurion flinched at the message, Roth looked over at his Apprentice, "don't let your fear become your master, take it and control it, you are the master of your emotions, they are not yours." Malfurion nodded, he inhaled his breath deeply, Roth felt his fear subside and fortitude took its place. Roth nodded at his Apprentice and they continued down the hallway.

The two Jedi walked down the hallway, their steps creating small echo’s resounding off the hall’s narrow walls. The hall’s lights flickered, constantly sending the room back and forth between darkness and light. Roth thought he heard voices whispering to him, as if the ghosts of the Force whispered for him to turn back.

Roth turned the corner, the hallway seemed exactly similar to the one he and Malfurion had just come from until Roth came upon a door that was bashed in, the durasteel was ripped from its hinges and lay on the floor inside of the room.

Roth walked inside the room, Malfurion behind him; the room was filled with bunks that were ripped to shreds and overturned, empty footlockers littered the area thrown around the room, a locker was tipped on its right leaning against the wall on the far side of the room.

Roth approached the locker and noticed the tab above the locker door marked, Armaments, Roth opened the locker, it was empty save for a lone crate filled with blaster pistol battery packs. Roth searched the box and closed the door. A fight had definitely broken out, but the question was against who or what?

"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Roth exited the room with Malfurion and continued down the hallway, along the way they came across three more closed doors, none of them contained anything of importance to what they were looking for.

Roth reached the end of the hallway; in front of him were two large durasteel doors. Roth stood in front of the doors, from the other side he could here the sound of machines. Roth held out his arms and parted the large doors and out fell the mangled body of a human male.


"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Roth heard the snaphiss sound signaling the activation of Malfurion’s lightsaber. In a single motion Roth caught the body with the Force, turned and gripped his Apprentice’s arm with the force, halting it in midstrike.

Roth settled the body slowly to the ground and turned to face Malfurion. He looked at his Master in amazement. Roth sighed, “you must learn to control your emotions, if left unchecked they can corrupt your feelings and thought. Remember, if you can control them, you will become a weapon of unimaginable power.”

Roth knelt down to inspect the body, the former man’s ribs felt crushed, and his humerus was broken in half. On his legs were slashes, not from a vibroblade, but from something bigger.

Roth turned the body over, his eyebrows arched; on the back of the corpses’ neck were two pairs of bite marks, on his shoulder there were three, and four more were spread across his back, all were the same size and seemed strategically placed to numb and cripple the man’s nerves, torturing him before death.

"They're already dead! There's no one left...came from the void...we're doomed!"

Roth got up and left the body where it was, Malfurion looked as if he was going to ask Roth a question, but the Kiffar Master motioned from him to be quiet.

The contents of the room were scattered and destroyed, few machines still had power and were running. Roth stepped over the smashed remains of a map of the jungle planet. He approached the large console in the back corner of the room and stopped, blood was splashed across the keypad and screens.


Roth swept the blood away from the console with the Force by a simple wave of his hand. He looked over the controls and looked up the holocam recordings. After a few moments the screen read, ERROR: CAMERAS DESTROYED, MAY REQUIRE POSSIBLE MAINTENANCE.

Roth rolled his eyes and went back to the main scream, in the middle of the room the blue emergency lights blinked on and off. Roth scrolled down an highlighted Intercom Options. Roth waited until the next screen loaded and he found what he was looking for, Eject Audiodisk #593.

"They're already dead! There's no one le-

Roth grabbed the small disk and the voice over the speakers ceased. Roth turned to continue searching the area, when his foot kicked a vibrosword covered in rubble lying under a fallen console.

Roth picked up the vibroblade and inspected the blade. It was jagged and indented along the edge, and the hilt was covered in blood. Roth inspected the blade once more and closed his eyes and plunged into the Force.

As a Kiffar Roth had the unique power of psychometry, a mental technique of picking up impressions and traces of information about the object touched and the events that have surrounded it. The power allowed the user to view events as if they were there, including the sights, sounds, and feelings, both emotional and physical, that the wielder of the object experienced.

Roth’s mind was then thrust into a desperate battle for survival. The human male who wielded the blade, the corpse that Roth had found in the room, was battling against an enemy who was overpowering the man’s defenses. The man’s eyes were bloodshot, obscuring his vision, Roth could make out the outline of a large muscular humanoid swinging a long object down at the man’s head. Roth felt the man’s neck become constricted by a large muscular hand. A hiss came from behind the helpless human and a fraction of pain from the back of his neck, and the scientist fell into darkness.

Roth opened his eyes and took a deep breath. The vision of the battle caused the Kiffar to rethink the entire occurrence that happened in the facility. It wasn’t just the Remnant or space pirates, but something deadlier and without limits.

Roth showed no fear, he rarely did. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of the one who would carry on his teachings when his time had ended, especially after teaching Malfurion about harnessing his emotions.

Roth placed the vibroblade back on the ground, no longer needing the weapon. He walked over to the other side of the room and searched the debris, lifting up the larger pieces with the Force.

Under a large communications console Roth found the smashed remains of a 3P0 series protocol droid. The gold plate that covered the droid was scattered and wires were unplugged hanging out of the droid’s chassis. Its limbs were detached to the torso, some crushed and others were unsalvageable.

Roth searched the debris more until he found the protocol droid’s head. Despite the broken condition of the rest of the droid, its head had endured the worst of the damage. Roth rotated the head in his hands and flipped open its memory core. Roth carefully unplugged the copper wires and successfully removed the memory core.

Roth placed the memory core in the pockets in his robes. After sweeping the room once more looking for any more possible clues, Roth turned to Malfurion and said, “let’s go, we’re leaving.”

Roth and Malfurion exited the room. Roth stopped at the body and levitated it with the Force, as if it was on an invisible stretcher.

The two Jedi reached the second floor where Trenton was all ready waiting for them. Trenton looked over and eyed the body, his left eyebrow arched in surprise.

Trenton approached Roth and asked, “did you find anything else?”

Roth nodded, “I’ll tell you about it on the ship, I want to get out of this place its filled with sorrow and death.”

Trenton nodded and the three Jedi walked out of the facility and entered the humid, moist air of Belkadan’s jungle climate. The trio boarded the Corellian Corvette, Trenton and Malfurion went to the bridge to pilot the craft while Roth went to the infirmary and placed the body on the medical table.

Roth placed a white blanket over the body and walked back up to the bridge as it was entering the stars above Belkadan. Roth settled into a seat and strapped himself in as the Corvette dove into hyperspace.

[Ghev Dralin]

The 'Osiris'
En-route to Coruscant

Ghev had requested to be left alone during the hyperspace journey to Coruscant, but he'd felt a sudden impulse to wander the ship.
Though structurally identical to the 'Galidraan', the 'Osiris' seemed to have it's own personality. The crew, despite appearing the same in their armour, were unmistakeably different. They'd served with Goran Holtz during the war, a man so viciously upholding of the Mandalorian military ways that it was commonplace for crew members to be shot on a daily basis.

They walked with rigid apprehension, as though expecting to get a round through the throat - one of the weaker points on an armoured Mandalorian.
But Ghev did nothing to reassure them of his good intentions. The war hadn't changed him, but the aftermath had. It was just a pity he hadn't gotten around to explaining this to anyone yet.

Reaching the 13th level, he found himself staring at a door draped in beads and varnished bones, a strong smell of incense somehow seeping from the sealed hatch.
Ghev knew who's quarters it was, for he'd been visiting their owner since he was a child.
They called her 'The Ancient', for she'd renounced her name many years ago, and most people believed she'd lost her mind around about the same time. Ghev knew different, though.

The door slid open, and Ghev inhaled the sweet scent that blew over him.
"Come on in Ghev'ika, don' wann be standin' out thar all day" said a voice from inside, old and cracked, but still warm and welcoming. Ghev stepped inside, and shut the door. The quarters were exactly like The Ancient's home back on Mandalore; cramped and crammed with jars, relics, candles and incense holders, old weapons, stuffed and mounted strill heads, and in the middle, an old wooden table with two chairs. A bunk lay hidden at the back of the room, and was currently covered in old tome's and datapads.

"I see you've found a comfortable home on the 'Osiris', old one" Ghev said, embracing her. She wore old armour, its paint chipped away in most places. Ghev knew it had once been painted bronze and red, but now it looked mostly grey. Over her armour she wore many braids of hair - probably scalps from Wookiee's - and beads that seemed to be made of bone. Three thick knots of rope hung around her neck, each lined with Trandoshan fangs, and at her waist she wore a kama made of bantha hide.

Ghev was glad of the incense, for the room would have smelled unbearable without it.

"Ar, it ain't Manda'yaim, ner vod, but home is home" she agreed, hauling herself into the seat opposite Ghev. Shaking her dreadlocked hair out of her face, she smiled with black teeth, and took Ghev's hand. She was dark skinned, with a yellow tattoo running across her face. She was a Kiffar, Ghev knew. He'd also known her daughter very well; she'd died onboard the Death Star. Ghev had hated bringing home the single armour plate he'd retrieved, painted in electrum, and returning it to The Ancient.
"Yer lookin' lost, Mand'alor" she observed.
"It's a strange ship" Ghev smirked.
"Now don' be playin' games wi me, Ghev" she scolded, smacking his hand sharply. "You knowin' full well what ah mean"

Ghev nodded, and leaned forward.
"You were a Jedi once, weren't you" Ghev said, and The Ancient chuckled, her beads and necklaces jangling.
"Aye, once 'pon a time, long fore I joined the Mando'ade. How else you tinkin' I can read yer all so damn good?" she cackled, then leaned across to a hidden niche and withdrew a bottle of red liquid.
"Wine, Mand'alor?" she asked, already pouring him a glass.
"You needn't ask" Ghev smiled, and took the glass from her.
"But wha I am askin', is why Ghev'ika find 'imself in my home at dis hour" The Ancient said, her voice suddenly low and thoughtful.

"I needed advice" Ghev admitted, draining his glass. "I'm losing my grip on my people, they're starting to see me as a bad leader" he sighed, as The Ancient poured him another glass.
"Nah, people dey think you're as good a leader as ever, young one. They no thinkin' you lose your grip, dey thinkin' you tighten it too hard" she said, non-chalantly.
"They need to learn to respect authority. It'll save our shebse in the long run" he grunted, sipping his wine.
"Perhaps... demonstration be needed, Mand'alor?" The Ancient suggested. "Show dem yer not becomin' cold an' hollow".

Ghev smiled, and gripped The Ancient's hand. She put her other hand to his chestplate.
"In 'ere, heart beats fierce, wit courage ner vod. Takes lotta bravery to put own life on the line, but takes lot more to put all our lives on line every damn day!" she said loudly, wanting him to get the message. "Dey no like you becomin' harder, tougher? Den dey need to thinkin' what dey own priorities are, a strong leader or lazy one".

Ghev drained his glass again, and his comm beeped.
"Thank you, old one" he said, smiling. Standing up, he embraced her again, feeling much better in himself.
"Now whatta ya doin' bout yer little problem?" she asked, and Ghev knew she was referring to the mysterious asteroid ship they'd encountered.
"At the moment, there's not a lot we can do. We're heading to Coruscant, though" he added, eyeing her cautiously.
"Ha! Coruscant, oh my. Let dem Jedi think dey takin' me back to da Temple, I'll show 'em wha happens when dey mess wit me 'gain" she cackled, seeing him to the door.

When her daughter had been born, Jedi scouts had come to The Ancient, attempting to convince her to relinquish the child. It had been a violent morning, to say the least.

"Nobody's taking anybody anywhere" Ghev laughed, though he knew The Ancient could read his thoughts on Orla.
"Good girl she once was... pity how corruption rots da soul so fast" The Ancient sighed, shaking her head. "Knows secrets, dat one does. An' attempt to reveal them by turnin' her over to Jedi, Ghev? Be careful" she advised.

Ghev nodded, then headed to the bridge. As he arrived, the ship pulled out of hyperspace over the glittering jewel that was Coruscant.
"You smell funny" Deej murmered, smiling and patting Ghev on the shoulder. He was right; the smell of incense surrounded him still.
"I'll get in the 'fresher later" he replied, then turned to Tracyn.

"Commander Velor, inform air traffic control that we're here in peace, and request representatives from the Senate and the Jedi Order to meet us".
"Coruscant Air Traffic Control, this is the Mandalorian vessel 'Osiris'. We're here on peaceful terms, Mand'alor Ghev Dralin would request a meeting with representatives of the Senate and the Jedi Order a.s.a.p" Tracyn said into the comm, leaving the frequency open.

Ghev waited for a response, slipping his helmet on and retreating into the familliar closed world of his HUD.

[Trenton Vinh]

Jet Sumner frowned, listening to his longtime Padawan's words.
Ben Joreth was 18 years old, and one of the best Padawans in the Jedi Temple. The boy was almost ready for the Jedi Trials, as was his brother Tiverian.
The more shy of the two, Tiverian was currently in the Temple Library, studying whatever had piqued his interest.
Ben was much more inquisitive, and, in Jet's mind, dangerous.
The boy was more emotional than most Padawans, his will strong enough to pursue anything that caught his attention.

At the moment, Ben was explaining the events of a dream he had the previous night.

"Master, this dream was unlike one I have ever before had. I could see everything so clearly. I could smell it burning."

Jet raised an eyebrow, "Smell what burning?"

Ben answered, unblinkingly, "Coruscant."

Jet lowered his head, trying to picture the dream. He wondered how Ben had reacted to it, and if his fear during the dream had just made it seem worse than it was.
Jet said thoughtfully, "Try not to dwell on it for now. We will take it as a warning for now, but will not act upon it unless another dream of the sort arises."

Jet paused as his comlink beeped. Twice.

He drew out the small transmitter and listened to it.
Jet stood up and said, "Trenton, Malfurion and Roth have returned. They say they have found something. Also, Mandalore has come for a visit."

Jet patted a sullen-looking Ben on the shoulder as he moved to leave, saying, "We will not forget this dream, but we will not act on it yet. Just keep your senses alert, and do not let your emotions guide your actions. Fear can lead to anger. Don't be impulsive."

Ben sighed, "Yes, Master."
He was about to leave Jet's quarters looking a bit put-out, feeling ignored.
Before he left, he asked, "Shouldn't we act on it just in case?"

Jet sighed, wishing there was more he could do for the boy. But what could he do? The boy had never had prophetic dreams before. It was more than likely just a nightmare. And if not...then the Jedi would have too much on their hands to worry about what could have been done to stop it.

He answered the only way he could, the only way he knew how to answer:
"Jedi cannot act on something. We are trained to 'Un-act'. When we shut out our senses and let the Force act through us, the answer will become evident."

Ben nodded, but Jet could sense the boy felt unsatisfied with that.
But he left regardless, and Jet responded to both messages he had received with the same answer: He would meet them in the Jedi Temple Hangar Bays.

He traversed the huge Jedi temple, taking the most direct route possible.
He barely got to the hangar bay when Trenton, Roth, and Malfurion exited their ship, Roth levitating a body covered with a white blanket.
Jet looked around and said, "Bring it into the Med Bay on your shuttle, lets not have any young students see this."

Roth nodded silently and led them back into the ship, the body floating lazily ahead of them.
Jet followed them into the ship, to a small room where Roth let the corpse gently come to a rest on a medical gurney.
Jet stepped beside it and pulled the cloth away, revealing the bite marks. The man's eyes stared at the ceiling, rigormortis locking the eyelids open.

The Jedi Master inspected the bite wounds closely and asked, "Any idea what caused the wounds? Looks like snake bites..."

Roth replied softly, "As far as I know, the being that killed these people was human. Or at least humanoid."

Trent cut in, "You should have seen what happened there, Jet. It was a slaughter."

Jet looked at the body again and responded, "I'm glad I didn't."

Malfurion said quietly from the back, "I'm going to go..."

Roth nodded to him and said, "Keep your comlink nearby."
Malfurion took his leave, most likely going to see his friends.

Jet straightened up, pulling the cover back over the body, and said, "I want you to report to the council as soon as possible. They should be in the spire, go fill them in until I get back. I need to meet with Ghe-" He paused, "Mandalore."

Trenton raised an eyebrow, "Mind if I join you?"
Jet nodded, and said, "If Roth can report, then yes. They may ask you for your information as well."

Trent nodded darkly, "That's fine."

Roth headed off towards the Council Spire, dialing in his mother's number on his comlink. No doubt he was letting her know he was on his way up.

Trent did not envy Roth. The council never seemed to enjoy seeing either Trent or Roth at all, and when surrounded by a dozen Jedi Masters, it was easy to feel alienated and alone.
But Trenton knew Roth would remain resolved, remain strong, even if they scorned him.

Jet muttered to Trenton, "Let's hope the Mandalorian's are here for a friendly visit, shall we?"

[Ghev Dralin]

Ghev began giving orders as soon as he received a message from the Jedi; whether or not the Senate wished to soil their images by convening with Mandalorians would be their choice.

"Mand'alor, I should come with you" Tracyn said, keeping up at a brisk pace.
"Negative, Commander, I need you up here with the 'Osiris'. You are her commanding officer, need I remind you" Ghev said, his scowl evident in his voice.
Deej turned to Tracyn and put a hand on his shoulder, indicating that he'd lost this round. With a sigh, Tracyn stopped, and waited until Ghev and Deej were out of sight.

On the central hangar deck, a shuttle was waiting, it's ramp lowered and it's engines humming on standby.
"Is she onboard?" Ghev asked the lone guard standing at the foot of the ramp.
"We have her chained and secured in a holding cage" the guard confirmed. Ghev saw movement inside; the other two guards who were watching over Orla.

"Ghev!"
Ghev turned to look for the source of the voice, and soon noticed Alora running across the deck, cutting a line through the crew and heading straight for him.
"What is it, Commander?" he asked, holding a hand out and stopping her in her tracks before she collided with him.
"Landuur shabuir!" she hissed, shoving his hand away.
"Be very careful, Alor'ika" Ghev warned, squaring up to her. Deej and the guard watched, not daring to intervene.

"I saw what you did to Orla, you fracking di'kut!" she roared, moving to shove Ghev in the chest. Ghev was quicker than that, however, grabbing her arm and slamming her to the floor, burying his knee in the space between her backplate and her belt.
"I seem to recall you using worse tactics on Imperial prisoners after the war, so don't begin to think you have the right to lecture me on interrogation methods" Ghev snapped, bending her wrist around.
Alora grunted in pain, trying to push herself up from the ground, which only intensified the hold Ghev had on her.

"Ghev..." Deej began, but Ghev used his free hand to shove Alora's head against the deck.
"No, I won't have officers stirring up insubordination just because one prisoner happens to be a relative" he growled.
"C'mon Ghev, she doesn't have her helmet..."
"Be quiet, Deej" Ghev sighed. "Guard, confine this woman to the brig until I return, I don't want her stirring up mistrust among the crew" he said to the Mandalorian who was stood at the foot of the ramp.
"Y... yes, sir..." the Mandalorian replied, stunned by the display.

After releasing Alora to the care of the guard, Ghev boarded the shuttle with Deej, and sat in the pilots seat.
"What was that all about?" Deej asked, taking the co-pilots chair.
"She should have known better" Ghev muttered, and Deej took it as a sign to stop asking questions.
The shuttle took off, and Ghev piloted it through Coruscant's atmosphere, keeping to the skylanes and heading for the Jedi Temple.

"I wonder what reception we'll get... the alliance was a long time ago" Deej thought aloud.
"I don't give a kriff what reception we get, as long as something comes of this meeting" Ghev replied, angling the shuttle toward the Temple, and putting her down gently on one of the landing pads. As he stood, the landing pad began to retract into the temple, bringing them into the hangar.
"Bring the prisoner" he ordered the guards, who unbolted the cage and noosed Orla around the neck, dragging her out. Her arms were locked together with stun cuffs, and a bar was cuffed between her legs to stop her being able to move too fast.

"What you got planned?" Deej asked, as the ramp lowered and they stepped into the temple hangars.
"Gonna see if one of their jetii hack-jobs can dig into her mind a little, find out things she may know" Ghev replied, as the small group headed toward the Jedi waiting for them.

[Roth Fenix]

Roth waited outside of the Council Chambers in the small waiting room. He gazed out of the transparisteel window at the passing speeder traffic. The sun was setting in the distance. The sky was a beautiful orange and the clouds a deep red against the sky.

The door to the Council Chamber opened and a pair of Jedi, Master and Apprentice, walked out of the room. They both stared over at Roth and nodded slowly and continued on their way.

Roth entered the Council Chambers and took his place in the middle of the room. Around him six of the twelve seats were filled, one of them belonging to Jet Sumner, the other five seats had yet to be filled by Jedi Masters the Council thought worthy of holding a seat.

Roth looked around the room. Facing him directly was Master San Xaan, a Kel Dor Jedi Master who was one of the deadliest Jedi with a blade. San regarded Aeolan with a slow nod.

Next to San was the archivist of the Jedi one of the wisest Jedi Consulars, Master Evgeni Issus. Master Issus was an expert in the art of Battle Meditation, the powerful talent that inspired your allies to fight while demoralizing the enemy. He was whispering something to the Cerean Jedi, Master Alexi Korova who sat to his right. Master Korova was the watchmen of the entire Corellian sector of the galaxy, known as The Five Brothers. Master Korova was well balanced in all of the arts in the Force, never concentrating on a particular subject to accelerate in. He was also an excellent fighter pilot, perhaps the best in the Jedi Order.

Behind Roth sat Reyne Grakin. Reyne was one of the few Jedi Roth had never met or had heard much about. The Nautolan Jedi usually kept to himself in his quarters.

Finally, Roth set eyes on his parents, Dagon and Aundria Fenix. Dagon sat slightly slouched in his seat, his twin lightsabers dangling from his belt. Dagon was the one most known to go against the Council’s decisions, believing them to be to close minded, always focusing on one ideal. Dagon was also one of the few who could stand toe to toe with Master San in a lightsaber duel.

Aundria sat upright in her chair, slightly smiling at her son. Aundria had the rare talent of being able to communicate with the many creatures of the galaxy using the Force. She had even brought the aid of rancors when rescuing Roth from the Imperial Prison on Dathomir. While Dagon was the one who usually went against the Council’s decisions, Aundria was the one who tried to convince her husband that it was what was best for the people of the galaxy. Some marveled at the couple’s extreme differences.

Roth bowed slightly to each of the Council Members in turn. Master San was the first to speak, his thick voice filled the room, “what do you have to report Roth?”

Roth looked San directly in the eye, “nothing that we expected.”
Master Korova spoke from Roth’s right, “was it the Remnant? Or perhaps even the Brotherhood?”

Roth shook his head, “no, neither of them would have done what we saw, both would have taken prisoners or would have raided the facility, take what they needed, and dispose of the bodies. This was worse, a slaughter…it felt like a warning.”

San leaned forward in his seat, “a warning of?”

Roth exhaled and flipped the hair from his eyes, “a warning that they could be planning a move against the Republic, that they have no limits, and won’t be stopped.”

This time it was Aundria who spoke, “but who would possibly want to make a move against the Republic, we all know that even the combined forces of the Brotherhood and the Remnant wouldn’t stand a chance against our armadas.”

Roth shook his head at his mother, “I don’t know, nothing I’ve ever encountered before, something alien,” Roth paused for several seconds, “maybe even something from beyond the galaxy.”

A murmur broke out among the Council and Master Issus’s voice spoke to Roth, “Roth, we haven’t seen anything come into our galaxy from wild space since the first historians began chronicling the galaxy’s history, surely you are jumping to conclusions.”

Roth glared at the Iktotchi Jedi Master, “when I felt through the Force to find even a slight presence, I couldn’t feel certain area of the facility, as if there was a void in the Force, something a sentient species, at least in our galaxy, is not capable of.”

The council began whispering to each other again; Reyne sat in the back, contemplating the situation, his head tails twitched slightly. Dagon spoke to everyone in the room, “we should be mindful of this new enemy, if it is what Roth says than we are in more danger, more than when the Empire rose to power. If this threat reveals itself again, we should search for them and eliminate them before more incidents like Belkadan happen.”

This time it was Aundria who spoke, “but we’ve never encountered an enemy like this, how could we think that we can just go out and destroy them?”

San interrupted their verbal argument, “we haven’t gone over the data that Roth and Trenton have brought back.” The Kel Dor turned to Roth, “Did you bring back anything that could help us?”

Roth nodded and reached into his robe’s pockets and pulled out the audiodisk and he droid memory core, Roth held up the disk first, “this was a distress signal that we encountered on our sensors. The message is fragmented, but we plan to have Intelligence operatives work to reveal the rest of the message.”

Roth put the audiodisk in his pocket, “I found the memory core under a pile of broken machinery, the droid was smashed, but still salvageable. Hopefully, its audio receptors can help us reveal what took place at the facility.” Roth placed the memory core in his pocket. “We also found a body with odd wounds across his body, his corpse was mangled, we brought it back to perform an autopsy so we may figure out what type of weaponry our new aggressor is using.”

Reyne leaned forward, his voice was thick with a Nautolan accent, “what kind of vision?”

Roth turned to the alien Jedi, “after searching the facility me and my Apprentice came upon a body and not far from it, a vibroblade.”

Master Issus asked, “so you used your power of Psycometry, am I correct?”

Roth nodded, “the vision of the man’s eyes I watched through were bloodshot, but the feeling of pain, fear, suffering in him was overwhelming. He fought a hopeless fight against an enemy who was clearly stronger and faster. In the end he was killed by some type of animal, a snake, which struck from behind.”

San was deep in thought, “no species that we have encountered would perform such a violent slaughter, but now they utilize the aid of a certain type of animal?”

Roth shrugged, “as I said before, the vision was obscured and I have told you all that know about the situation.”

Aundria and Dagon exchanged wary glances, Reyne was sitting back in his seat stroking his chin, Master’s Korova and Issus were talking of any possible entry in the archives that would help the Jedi figure out what had happened on the planet. San thought for a bit more and then nodded at Roth, “thank you Roth, I hope your investigation can bring us something of good use.”

Roth bowed to San, “as do I.”

Roth left the Council Chambers and opened a frequency to Trenton. He waited a few moments and Trenton asked, “how did it go?”

Roth sighed, “not as bad as I thought, but like always, they’re scared of taking action, they prefer to wait. Haven’t the Jedi learned that waiting to get into a Conflict has usually proved disastrous?”

Trenton laughed, “at least you’re still in one piece, Mandalore has just arrived, you should get here, he’s apparently brought a prisoner, deserter from what Jet has told me, and they need help trying to break her for secrets.”

Roth had a look of confusion on his face, “secrets about what? What could a crazed prisoner possibly know?”

Trenton finished talking to someone off-comm and responded, “kriff if I know, but Jet seems to think she can be of extreme help, hurry here they’re on their way.”

Roth terminated the link and walked down the hallway to the Jedi Temple Hangar. He passed the Lightsaber Combat Room and saw Malfurion and Ben practicing combat, Malfurion utilizing the form of Juyo which Roth had taught him. All though Juyo was perhaps the most complicated of the forms, Malfurion had shown exceptional talent in utilizing the offensive form.

Roth entered the hangar and walked over to where Jet and Trenton stood on one of the Temple’s numerous landing pads. Jet nodded at Roth, “Trenton tells me your report unnerved the rest of the Council?”

Roth shrugged, “I told them what I had to, I won’t sit idly by if this threat attempts to slaughter people.”

Jet sighed, “you are as headstrong as Trenton, if not more, we will talk of this later.”

Roth heard the Landing Pad begin to retract and he saw Mandalore, standing tall and proud with a prisoner chained by a leash. Another enjoyable meeting with the Mandalorians, Roth throught to himself.

[Trenton Vinh]

Jonathan Rohaeus sat next to Aeolan Kicka in the Jedi Council's waiting room. Very rarely did a non-Jedi get permission to enter the Temple, unless it was the Annual Tour, in which thousands of species from across the Galaxy would come to take tours through the Jedi temple and learn more about the Jedi.
Both were slouched in the seats, the normally upbeat and obnoxious friends were in a stupor. Silent, quiet, wide-eyed and grim-faced, they seemed devoid of life.
Both had watched in horror as their squadron was torn to shreds in mere seconds by an enemy they had never before encountered.
A few times, Aeolan or Jon would open his mouth to speak, but close it before any sound came out.

The remainder of Vortex, less than half the squadron, was at a nearby cantina. No doubt getting as drunk as possible.

Jon would probably join them as soon as possible. Assuming Jet ever got back from wherever he was.
Jon had very little pull in the Jedi Order, other than the fact that him and Vortex worked with the Jedi during the war several years ago.
Jet, Roth, and Trenton were the only Jedi Jon knew at all, but just dropping their names in a semi-public area would usually turn a head or two.
So when Jon and Aeolan entered the Temple and requested permission on special orders from Jet Sumner, the Temple Guard quickly directed them towards the Council Chambers.
However, Jet had just left, but would return soon, hopefully.

Jon nudged Aeolan as a pair of Jedi Apprentice walked past them, one of them Jon thought looked familiar.
Jon muttered, "Do we know the one on the left?"
Aeolan shrugged, "His hair looks like it has a Wookiee braid in it."
Jon shook his head, "No, not that one. And Thats a Padawan's Braid. A lot of the Padawan's have it. The one on the left."

Aeolan took a second, and said loudly, "Ben?"

Ben turned around, looking quizzical, and said, "Oh...Aeolan and Jon."
He strode over, his friend beside him, and said, "Whats up, haven't seen you two in a while."

Jon leaned forward and said, "Waiting for Jet. How long do his appointments with other people usually last?"

Ben grinned, and his friend said, "Usually too long to wait for, unless you want to starve to death."
Ben looked at his friend and laughed, then said, "Oh. Malfurion, this is Jonathan Rohaeus and Aeolan Kicka, they're in Vortex Squadron."

Malfurion nodded, "I recognize them. I've seen the holovids. The holodramas aren't quite as good..."

Aeolan managed a smile, "They make those movies to entertain, not to be biographies."

Malfurion nodded again, "Yeah. so Jon, how many times did you get your head beaten in during the War against the Empire? Cause in the movies it was pretty much once per scene..."

Ben laughed, and Aeolan did as well. Jon grinned and replied, "Well...had to be at least six or seven times."

Ben counted on his fingers, "Two times your fighter got damaged, and you got hurt pretty badly in it. Then once by the assassin on Nar Shaddaa, once on that Soriellis mission, another time on the Death Star battle. I heard you once even got a Chadra-Fan attached to your face!"

Aeolan burst out laughing, and Jon blushed, smiling still, "It was an ewok."

Both Padawans burst into laughter.
Jon and Aeolan laughed as well, both taking pleasure in the simple laughs. Laughter was something they'd had a shortage of in the last twenty-four hours.

When they stopped, Jon and Aeolan were again stoic. As if sensing something was wrong, Ben asked, "Want me to take you to Jet?"

Aeolan and Jon nodded as one, and the two Padawans led them through the temple.
Aeolan at one point asked, "How do you know where he is?"
The question was answered by Tiverian, who joined them halfway down a hallway,
"Well. When Jedi like Jet Sumner, Roth Fenix, and Trenton Vinh are close together, it gives off a Force energy stronger than most in the Galaxy. Despite being surrounded by hundreds of other Jedi, their power can be pinpointed. A blind, deaf, and crippled gundark with just a tiny bit of Force Awareness could find them."
Aeolan and Jon frowned at one another, but quickly began to prepare themselves for the meeting.

Jon thought about the trio of Jedi he had known for almost five years now.
Jet was a Jedi like every other. Gifted, wise, and strict, Jon knew that whatever the man said could be trusted.
Trenton and Roth were two of a kind. Enigmatic, somewhat manipulative, and intimidating, they were obviously two of the strongest Jedi to ever walk the face of the Galaxy.
Jon was as Force-blind as a veermok and he knew that much.
Aeolan had once said it was in the way they walked. Their shoulders sloped as if they carried a heavy weight on their backs.
Jon didn't exactly fear them. He feared rabid wookiees, and he feared Krayt Dragons. He feared choking to death on a piece of of thakitillo. More than anything, he feared being chased by a pack of Akk dogs through a Coruscanti restaurant while wearing socks on a newly-waxed floor.
His fear for Jedi was like the fear one has for an animal in a zoo.
They may not look scary, and they not be running rampant, but you can tell they can be dangerous.

Most Jedi looked tame, like their bark was worse than their bite. Which wasn't true. But Trenton and Roth were like a caged animal, abused by its masters, unfed and angry, being let loose.
Just the way they moved show the torrential force they could unleash at a moment's notice.
Trenton Vinh and Roth Fenix were like taking all the laws of the Jedi and throwing it away.
Jon remembered when the pair of Jedi led the charge for the Jedi Temple during the Liberation of Coruscant.
He had watched as Roth and Trenton took down a pair of AT-ST's, an entire platoon of Stormtroopers, a TIE Fighter Squadron, and over a dozen Dark Jedi.

Both him and Aeolan had been a bit taken aback by the display of power, but had of course, not complained.
What Jon didn't understand, was why the Jedi tolerated such destructive behaviour.
Jon didn't much care, in his opinion, he'd rather Jedi not whine about morals and focus on getting work done, which was what Roth and Trent seemed to be good at.

He was pondering what the deal with Trent and Roth was, why they were the way they were, when they came upon Jet, Trenton, and Roth in a room, talking in dark tones.
Jon was mildly surprised by the sight of Ghev Dralin, the Mandalorian he had met years ago on Polis Massa.
Jon moved forward to shake Ghev's hand, before turning to the others.

"Nice to see all of you in one piece. I would say the same but...Vortex got hurt pretty badly."
Aeolan nodded and his lips tightened a bit, as if he was holding back from saying something.
Trent and Roth watched Jon with unreadable expression's on their faces, while Jet looked notably saddened by the news of Vortex's losses.
Jet asked, "How many?"
Aeolan said in a hoarse voice, "Six."

Jon and Aeolan had enjoyed their time having a few laughs with Ben and Malfurion, but now reality settled in again, and Jon felt his stomach tighten and churn.

Ben and Malfurion, Tiv standing a bit behind them, all seemed bothered by this. The heroes of the holovids were not quite as invincible as they had seemed.

Jet said, "I'm so sorry."
Trent and Roth nodded silently.

Jon nodded his thanks, and asked, "We were hit by some kind of...ship. But I'll fill you in soon. Sorry if we interrupted. Carry on. We will report once you are done."

[Ghev Dralin]

Ghev nodded to everyone assembled, then shook Jon's hand.
"I'm sorry for your losses, ner vode" he said to Jon and Aeolan. "Try not to lose yourselves too" he said, leaving it at that. He meant, of course, that they shouldn't forget to live while mourning for their squadron.

With that, Ghev turned, and dragged Orla forward, throwing her to the ground. The guard tightened the snare around her neck, though the nature of her shackles meant she wouldn't be able to stand up without assistance anyway.
"First thing's first, I'd like you to meet our prisoner. Or should I say, your prisoner" Ghev announced. Deej looked at Ghev, wondering what he was about to do.
"Mand'alor, you can't...."
"Yes I fracking can, Commander" Ghev said in a low voice.

The guards remained silent, looking at the two other Mandalorians, wondering if they'd begin fighting like Ghev and Alora had on the hangar deck of the 'Osiris'.
But no such fight broke out; Deej knew when to take a hint.
"We've held Orla for four years, and in that time we've got nothing from her. So, as of this moment, I declare her dar'manda" Ghev said, and Orla began to cry, tears streaking through the dirt and dried blood of her swollen, beaten face.
"For crimes against the Republic, I'm submitting her to interrogation and sentence under Republic terms. Just let me know the outcome of both, I think she knows something, more than she's letting on" Ghev demanded; as far as he was concerned, Orla's betrayal was a personal insult.

Deej crossed his arms, and cast a sideward glance at Ghev, though his helmet made his expression unreadable.
Ghev, however, knew his own husband, and knew how to read someone wearing a helmet.
"Deej, go and wait in the shuttle" he murmered.
"But I..."
"Now, Commander!" Ghev ordered, and Deej had no choice but to obey.
"Okay, onto the next point of order" Ghev said, digging into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a small holoprojector.
"This is a recording from a confrontation we had very recently, while we were scouting in the Tingel Arm" Ghev explained, as the projector hummed to life, displaying a grainy image of an asteroid.
Turbolaser bolts hammered toward the asteroid, only to be diverted before ever reaching their mark, leaving the formation unscathed.

Ghev let the recording repeat itself a couple of times, then turned off the projector.
"It matches something reported by Mandalore the Preserver, 4000 years ago" he said into the silence. "We have no idea what it is, where it came from, or how long it's been out there. But if it was seen 4000 years ago, then it's been waiting a hell of a long time" Ghev said, putting the projector back in his belt.

"Unless, there's more than one. In which case, we're all about to get kicked in the shebse if they decide to turn aggressive" Ghev pointed out.
"So, do we have any theories as to what this might be? And could we possibly link it to the missing Republic ships and the shuttle I lost this week?"

[Trenton Vinh]

Jet raised his eyebrows in surprise at Ghev giving them a prisoner.
He opened his mouth to protest, "Ah.."
Trent cut him off before he could speak a word, "We will do what we can with her."

Jon frowned. He didn't speak Mandalorian, or know much about their culture, but judging by the reaction's of the several Mandalorians around Ghev when he said she was "Dar-Manda", she had just been shamed...or outcasted...or something. He didn't really care which. He didn't envy her. Judging by the bruises and lacerations, she had been through a harsh beating. And the look on Trenton's face gave Jon the idea that this prisoner was going to go through much worse.

Jon glanced at Aeolan, with a raised-eyebrows expression.
He had heard of the sort of tortures Force-Users used. And a Jedi like Trenton...
He didn't even want to imagine it. Jon just kept his eyes on Ghev, who pulled out a holoprojector. The image that showed up looked exactly like the ship that Vortex had been slaughtered by.
Aeolan said loudly, "That's the same ship that hit us!"
Jon nodded darkly, and Jet looked at them with a worried look.
Roth said in a low voice, "That means there is probably more than one..."

Jet looked around at everyone assembled and said, "We should deal with this sooner rather than later. Establish contact, try to reason with them. Hopefully they were just scared and acted in self-defense. If they are an invasion force...we need to do something about it."

Trent nodded, and muttered, "We should send task forces to the planets nearby the first contact points and see what the citizens have to say. If they have any information we should know about it. Also, if it is in fact an invasion force, those planets will be hit first."

Jon didn't know that area of the Galaxy well, and certainly hoped he wouldn't have to put the remaining members of Vortex at risk. He thought back to the old times, when they fought the Empire.
Everyone had seemed so invincible back then. No one died, everyone just pulled through. Until Tom. That's when things began to go downhill.

Trent said, "Jet. After I take some time with this prisoner of ours, I'm going to go look into this threat. I don't think the other Jedi would quite understand the danger behind this."

Jet sighed, "Trent. You just returned from a mission. You need to report to the council, and with this new prisoner, I don't think you should be leaving anytime soon.."

Trent shot back, "Lucky for me I wasn't asking your permission then."

Jet frowned, and turned to Ghev, "Thank you for taking this to us. If there is anything we can do to help you or your people, let me know. Do you have any plans made for the days ahead?"

[Ghev Dralin]

Jedi Temple
Coruscant

Ghev listened to the exchange in silence, waiting for the Jedi to sort out their own business. Orla was still glaring at him, though he recognised the defeat in her eyes; despite the fact she'd defected to the Empire, slaughtered dozens of her own people, blocked the Mandalorians and Rebel Alliance at every turn and proved to be a problem when she was taken prisoner, she'd always had one thing to keep her strong; her soul.

Now, Ghev had just denied her the rights of a Mandalorian, and disgraced her soul publicly. Even if the aruetiise - outsiders - didn't have a clue about Mandalorian customs, the effect was still the same; Orla had lost it all.
"We don't have any immediate plans. I think I'll put the fleet on hold, give 'em time to cool their heels" Ghev said, wondering if some recreational time would calm the tension between his people. "The 'Osiris' is in orbit, for as long as Coruscant is comfortable having us".

With that, Ghev took out his comm-link, and contacted 'Osiris'.
"Commander Velor, send three scout ships to the Tingel Arm, lets start looking for our missing people".

*********************

Chiss Cruiser
Orbiting Csilla
Chiss Ascendancy, Unknown Regions

Mira sat on the floor of her cell, looking through the viewport into space. 'Viewport' was hardly the word... it covered the entire side of her cell, a rounded shell designed to keep her in view of any attacking ships.

The cell next to her was the same; all of them were. Lacking in shields, the cruiser seemed to be designed to rely on the fortitude of its attackers, by displaying prisoners and using them in place of shields.
"Darryn" she said, wondering if he was awake; conveniently, they'd placed Mira and her co-pilot next to each other.
"Mira, I told you, don't wake me until they release us" Darryn muttered.
"We don't even know who they are, nevermind if they're going to release us" Mira snapped, getting to her feet. "So either lay there and rot, or help me figure out an escape plan".

"There'll be no need for that, Mandalorian" someone said, startling Mira. She whipped her head around, and saw a blue-skinned, red eyed woman at the door to her cell.
"Why, decided to execute us? About time" Mira growled.
"No, the Ruling Families have decided it is no longer necessary to keep you imprisoned" the woman replied.
Darryn rolled onto his side, then stood up, smoothing down his flight suit.
"What about our weapons and armour?" Darryn asked. "I'm not leaving without them".

"I think there has been a mistake, Mandalorian. We are releasing you from your cells, not from our custody. We have much to discern and discuss before such a decision can be taken into consideration" the blue-skinned woman explained.
"Take into consideration that we don't know where the kriff we are, or who... what you are" Mira snapped, approaching the door.
"Forgive me. My name is Lav'erit'ydia, though in your tongue, it may be easier to call me Verity. I am Commander of this ship" she said, gesturing around her. Mira noticed her crisp black uniform, and nodded. Perhaps, she thought, we can come to an understanding, being as we are both from the military.

"I've never encountered your species before" Mira noted, as her door was unlocked, and Verity stepped aside for her to exit. Mira noticed the presence of two male guards, acting casual a few meters behind Verity. So, they're not willing to trust us.
"We are the Chiss, we tend not to become involved with your Empire" Verity clarified. "Ah, forgive me, I forget. The Empire fell, according to our agents".
Darryn walked out of his cell, and nodded to Mira.
"Why were we baited here?" Darryn asked, gesturing to space outside.
"You weren't baited, you followed one of our Clawcraft scouts into Chiss territory, then relayed a signal to Republic space once you were boarded. Naturally, we took you prisoner, incase your Republic friends decided to search for you in a hostile manner".

Mira scoffed at the idea, and Verity quirked a brow.
"Is something funny, Mandalorian?" she asked.
"The Mandalorians aren't part of the Republic, but if they come looking for us, prey they're not in a hostile mood" Mira chuckled, though Verity didn't look amused.
"Wait a second... if you didn't know that we're not of the Republic, then how do you know what we are?" Darryn asked, puzzled.

"Four years ago, we encountered a Mandalorian serving the Empire. She was planning on leading an expedition into deep space, to extend the Imperial arm so to speak", Verity explained, though she appeared to be holding something back. "We... warned her that such a move was dangerous, and that she should prepare her people for war".
Mira frowned. "War with the Chiss?" she asked, glancing at Darryn. He seemed to be having a hard time digesting the odd news too.
"No, no. War with... them" Verity hissed, as though she daren't name the foe of which she spoke.
When both Mira and Darryn looked at her confused, she sighed. "Obviously, Commander Orade did not relay our warnings" she said.
"Commander Orade? Orla?" Mira asked, putting a hand on Verity's shoulder to prevent her turning away. The Chiss guards took a deeper interest in the proceedings, their grips visibly tightening on their weapons.

"Commander Orla Orade. I'll assume by your violent enthusiasm that you know her" Verity mused, brushing Mira's hand away, and smoothing out the crease in her uniform.
"She's been taken prisoner by our leader" Darryn murmered, unsure if he should be discussing this. "She hasn't spoken to anyone since she was captured, unless Ghev managed to loosen her tongue since we've been gone".
"Ghev?" Verity asked, as she began walking, signalling the Mandalorians to follow.
"Ghev Dralin, he's our Mand'alor" Mira explained. "He's refused to speak to her, for fear he'll beat her to death in anger" she smirked.
"How noble" Verity said, flatly.
"Just as noble as Orla was toward her own people during the war" Darryn replied in defense.

As the three reached the bridge, flanked by the two guards, Mira decided to steer the conversation back in the direction of the mysterious enemy Verity had alluded to.
"So who was it that Orla was meant to warn us of?" she asked.
"Oh, it's almost too late for warnings now" Verity sighed, sitting in her command chair.
"But if you tell us who they are, maybe we could get the word out to our people" Mira reasoned.
"If you let us go..." Darryn started.

"Impossible, without the permission of the Families" Verity interrupted, glancing at a read-out screen that looked completely alien to Mira and Darryn. "Besides, with or without your freedom, your people are still endangered. We've been keeping an eye on the Vong for years, but it seems they're no longer willing to stay away from your galaxy".

[Trenton Vinh]

Trent nodded at Ghev as he unceremoniously yanked Orla to her feet with The Force.
He said, "You have my comm number, let me know if I can be of any assistance."
He took a glance at Jet before turning to leave, an invisible hand pulling Orla behind him. She stumbled a few times, but managed to keep her footing.
Roth followed Trenton, first taking the time to shake Ghev's hand and offer his sympathy to Aeolan and Jon.
Roth strode alongside Trent as they neared the elevator. Once inside, and the doors had slid shut, Roth muttered, "What do you think we should do with her?"
He cocked his head towards Orla when he spoke, and her ears seemed to perk up when she heard her name.
Trent replied, "Torture...our way."

Roth nodded, but didn't cringe. They knew what had to be done.
The elevator slid to a stop at the bottom of the service levels.
The door opened with a hiss, and the rogue Jedi led their prisoner through several service tunnels and side passages before coming upon a small room, deep beneath the Jedi Temple.
Down here, the lights were dim, the air moist, and the walls cold.
Trent suppressed a shiver, but nonetheless felt the icy fingers touch his spine.
He dragged Orla into the center of the room, where there was a pair of chairs, one on either side of an old steel table.
Trent dropped Orla into one of the chairs, not bothering to tie her up. She wouldn't run.
Roth stood in the door-less entryway to the room, watching intently as Trenton lowered himself gracefully into the chair across from her.
Roth's attention was steadfast, but Trent knew that his ally was using the Force to "Listen" and keep an ear out for anyone that may be on their way in their direction.
They doubted much would come of an intruder happening upon them in the act, but didn't want to risk getting seen by Jet or any of the more ignorant Jedi Masters.

Orla seemed to eye Trent as he sat across from her. He was leaning forward, arms crossed across his chest and resting on the table.
His light hair was draped across his face, the shadows splashing across him made his eyes glow. He looked efficiently haunting. He stared at Orla for a few moments before saying in a calm voice, "We're going to give you one chance to tell us the information you're keeping secret. I'm sure Ghev gave you the same chance. However, I think you knew that Ghev wouldn't kill you. I however, will."

Orla seemed somewhat unresponsive, she just stared at a point over Trenton's left shoulder, eyes unfocused.
Without blinking, the room filled with Force energy, and her forehead slammed down against the cold steel table. Orla's nose spurted blood, and she made a gurgling sound. With The Force, Trent straightened her back up, guiding her eyes to meet his, "Do you understand me?" Trent asked.

She stared at him, unmoving. A tear slid down her face. Trent felt a bit of sympathy, being cast out was a difficult thing. But she could have stopped it. He didn't bother wondering why.
He slammed her face down against the table once more, blood spattering across the metal. She cried out in pain this time.
Trent raised his voice, "Last chance before the real torture starts."
She didn't say a word.
Trenton shook his head ruefully, "I didn't want it to go this way...I see you've already taken some physical torture from Ghev. Let me just tell you...Jedi torture is a bit different. Good luck."
He stood up and left the room, nodding solemnly at Roth before leaving the man to his own devices.

Roth knew what to do, and he would not be squeamish. If the Galaxy was at stake, he would take apart an entire planet.


*****

Jet looked at Ghev after Trenton left and said, "Coruscant will always be welcome to you. Or at least the Jedi Temple will be, the senate may not always approve.."
He tried to smile, but the day's grim events were taking a toll on his optimism.

Jon stepped forward and said, "What do you want Aeolan and I to do, Jet? What's left of Vortex is at your disposal."

Jet frowned, his eyes tightening. He looked up at Jon and said, "We should check some planets to see if they have made contact as of yet. Check the planets around the point of contact. Trenton and Roth already checked Belkadan, there was a slaughter there. Hopefully other settlements will be different. Keep me posted, we will send you any information we get."

Jon nodded, "Yeah. Will do. Thanks."

Jet nodded back at him and turned back to Ghev.

Jon led Aeolan back to the hangar bay, where he said, "Let's start with Sernpidal, and move outwards in a circle from there."

Within the hour they were in Hyperspace, heading back to the location where their brethren had been wiped out only days before