Crossroads

[Trenton Vinh]

Kavan's training led him to the Jedi Temple. Perhaps the flows of The Force had carried his feet there, or perhaps he made the decision consciously and not admitted it to himself.
He realized, as he stood in the grand plaza, gazing up the Temple steps at one of the most incredible and mysterious places in the Galaxy, that this was where his family line had come from. His entire life and training had been based upon the Jedi teachings. Kavan's great-great-great-great grandfather may have stood in the exact same place years ago.
The Moirai line had been Force-Sensitive for generations, and had all been Jedi, until Kavan's great-great-great-great grandfather, Borne Moirai, had left the Order shortly after being granted the honorable rank of Jedi Master. Borne had no qualms with the Jedi, and had left in good terms, to begin a family. When he had his first child, he trained the boy in The Force, using many Jedi teachings and training methods. When Borne's son, the famous Renn Moirai, had reached the age of 18, Borne left his son to find his way as a true Jedi. The Moirai line had carried this tradition, and Kavan intended to keep it going.
But he had his life to live first. To experience the galaxy before training his own child and successor.
The Moirai line was an honorable one, the Moirai's had worked with the Jedi Order several times, as allies. The difference was one of values. Borne Moirai had trained Renn Moirai in how to conceal himself as a Jedi, and how to travel the Galaxy while being hunted; for Borne had foreseen the coming of dark times for Force Users.
Sure enough, not long after Borne's passing, the Jedi Order was nearly wiped out during the Sith Wars. Renn had spent his life wandering the Galaxy and outrunning murderous Imperials and Sith Lords. But he had made himself a Legendary Jedi by doing so. Across the Galaxy, in those dark times, Renn managed to do good and aid thousands of citizens. From saving them from simple crimes to causing ceasefires and peace talks during times of war, Renn had helped fuel the mystique of Jedi -- the wise defenders and servants of the innocent and helpless.
The Moirai line did not work for an Order, being given missions and assignments. Instead, they worked as lone Jedi, doing good wherever they went, often times making the crucial difference. A nomadic Jedi could also not be so easily hunted or killed. If outlawed, the Jedi would be in trouble because of the high profile location of their Temple. But lone Jedi loosely connected to the Order would blend in, disappear, and continue spreading light to the dark corners of the Galaxy.

Kavan had to come to the Temple, to get a view for himself of how the Jedi acted. For after generations, no doubt the differences between Kavan and an Official Jedi trained at the Temple would be notable.
Del Moirai, Kavan's father, had insisted that Kavan continue learning everything he could. He said this because he had understood Kavan's potential, for according to Del, Kavan was the most powerful Moirai in their bloodline.
Force-potent or not, Kavan would learn everything possible, and the Jedi Temple was a logical place to start.
So the young man began climbing the steps. Visitors were occasionally allowed into the Temple, on some days a Jedi apprentice or two could be spotted giving tours of some Temple areas.
Kavan had the feeling that he would have no need for a tour guide.
One of the things that made Kavan Moirai special was that he knew things. Whether it was instinct, intuition, a Force-manifestation, or a sub-conscious precognitive ability, Kavan was able to predict many things. It rarely came in the form of visions, most often it was a hinting feeling or a feeling of certainty about something one could never be certain of.
He wondered if the Jedi would have techniques to enhance Kavan's ability more than his innate Force-Sensitivity did. He wondered if they would share the techniques with him at all.
Although unsure of many things, the feeling Kavan had proved right, as it usually did. When he entered the main doors of the Temple, a Coruscant sunset at his back, a young Jedi with blonde tousled hair made eye contact with him, and began a graceful walk towards Kavan. The boy appeared slightly older than Kavan.
"I am Jedi Knight Tiverian Skywalker, welcome to our beautiful Temple." He bowed his head, and allowed his hood to drop to his shoulders.
"I'm Kavan Moirai." Kavan replied, bowing in response, "I came today to learn about the Jedi Order."
Tiverian nodded his head, only a few inches taller than Kavan, "I am free for the next short while, would you like to see some of the rooms of the Temple?"
Kavan nodded his head with a smile. Neither had mentioned Kavan's powerful Force-presence, but no doubt Tiverian had sensed it. Something in Kavan's gut told him that much. As he fell into step beside the Jedi, he noticed several other Jedi in the area watching him.
Tiverian began by taking him through the map room, which had holographic images of nearly every star system in the known Galaxy. They walked along a raised walkway, looking through wall-sized transparisteel viewports into the Jedi Archives. Kavan took everything in that he could, wonder filling him to the brim. The blue lit shelves of the archives were tranquil and beautiful. There was no doubt that this was a place of great reverence, with wealths of knowledge and learning to be had.

"How many people are in the archives?" Kavan asked Tiverian, who thoughtfully responded, "I believe the numbers are well over a trillion. The archives have information on every Jedi whose ever walked through the halls of this Temple and any other Jedi Temple in the Galaxy. On top of that, it has information on every affiliate of the Jedi Order: Politicians, criminals the Jedi apprehended or came into contact with, Military docs and files. Every major event and every single holonews article ever. Private journals and recordings or Jedi teachings, ship blueprints, planetary information, sciences and stories. The information in the archives is that of nearly the entire Galaxy. Some have claimed that if something cannot be found in the archives, then it does not exist."
Kavan smiled at that, and said, "I perhaps may not exist, then."
Tiverian grinned and shot back, "Want to find out?"
Kavan realized that Tiverian may have tricked him subtly. No doubt Tiverian was curious about Kavan and his intentions. He had just gotten an excuse to look up information of Kavan.
Kavan wondered what they would find.

The pair entered the Archives large rotunda, the central chamber allowing access to dozens of aisles and terminals.
Tiverian found an empty console and offered Kavan the free seat. Kavan took it, and Tiverian waved his palm over the console. The name "Kavan Moirai" typed itself into the search engine from Tiverian's Force-influence.

There was a moment where the screen showed merely the words,
"Accessing Archive Database".
For a second, Kavan thought nothing would show up, and then the screen changed to say:
"Compiling information."
The screen filled with files and cross-references. No mention of Kavan himself, but the Moirai bloodline was referenced many times in reports and journals, as well as Borne Moirai's file. Kavan noticed the words, "Holocron available in Vaults".
Tiverian placed a hand gently on Kavan's shoulder and said, "No wonder you were curious to learn of the Jedi. Your family name comes from a great line of Jedi. It seems after this..." He tapped the file on Borne Moirai and it opened, "...Borne Moirai, your family line left the Jedi Order. However the other files cross-reference your family dozens of times since him, several rather well-known Moirai's worked with the Jedi Order over the years.
He smiled down at Kavan and said, "You are no doubt a friend to the Jedi Order, Kavan Moirai."
Kavan smiled and asked, "I don't suppose I would be able to see his Holocron, could I?"
Tiverian's face might have been sympathetic, "Unfortunately not, my friend. Not without special permission from a Council Member, and they wouldn't let you."
Kavan frowned, "But I'm family, isn't that good enough reason?"
Tiv smiled gently, "In the Jedi Order, family does not mean so much. Most Jedi are separated from their parents shortly after birth. Attachments can lead down dark roads."
That was a large difference between how Kavan had been trained and how the Jedi were taught. The Moirai line was familial, one generation teaching the next. The Jedi did not keep families so close.
"Why are attachments a bad thing? Without those emotional bonds, we can lose perspective. It is love and emotions that come from attachments that give the Living Force power."
Tiverian shrugged, "That may be so, but it can also cause great harm. Emotions can lead us to do irrational and impulsive things. Many Jedi have fallen to the Dark Side because of love."
Kavan countered, "And just as many have been redeemed from the same love."
Tiv nodded, "It seems to me, that you've been taught some Force Philosophies."
Kavan nodded right back, "And much more than that."

[Trenton Vinh]

Tryiim had been dropped off by his Master Raeph Sunder in the Coruscant Grand Plaza.
He had done his best to conceal his Force-Presence, fully aware that there were hundreds of Jedi in the massive Temple less than a kilometer away.
Devan Knorr had landed in his private docking bay; Raeph had said that Knorr would walk through the plaza on his way to assassinate Griegorey Rikter.
Knorr had been double-crossed by Raeph, as was often the way of those who dealt with Sith.
Knorr was tasked with slaying Rikter, and Tryiim was tasked with slaying Knorr. But only after Knorr killed Rikter.
Raeph had gone to find out about something he had read in the Holonet.
Ever since Darth Erebus had returned to The Maw, Raeph Sunder had changed.
Tryiim understood why; Raeph had believed for six years that he was the Dark Lord of The Sith, under the assumption that his Master had been slain.
However, the man formerly known as Drake Paladin had returned, proven his dominance over Raeph, then pronounced himself as Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Erebus.
Erebus had then, for unknown reasons, allowed Tryiim and Raeph to live, breaking the Rule of Two that had existed for a millennium.
Tryiim had found himself enraptured by Lord Erebus and his mystique. He was truly the most powerful Sith in the galaxy. Tryiim understood his own Master was powerful, a potent Sith, strong in The Force. But something about Erebus was different in a profound way. Erebus knew when Raeph could only guess.
It came down to technique and wisdom, Tryiim assumed.
Tryiim was stronger than his Master; he had known that for a year or so. Raeph was powerful and deadly, but Tryiim's Force Potential was much greater. A higher concentration of Midichlorians was not the only difference, however. Tryiim had an advantage; he was able to view the Force in an entirely different way now, due to Erebus and his...unconventional teaching methods.
Tryiim hated Lord Erebus for blinding him, but at the same time, Tryiim realized it had made him stronger. And wasn't the Sith Apprentice supposed to hate his Master?
Raeph would fall one day, both Tryiim and Erebus knew this. Perhaps Raeph knew it as well, but Tryiim had the feeling that Raeph was depending on the aid of his apprentice. Raeph would never best Erebus alone, Erebus was more subtle, powerful, and clever.
Maybe Raeph felt that Tryiim was on his side because he was his Master. Loyalty however, was not a tenet of The Sith. Tryiim had perhaps never made it clear to Raeph that he would kill him if ever given the chance; it was the Sith way, Tryiim had simply not yet attempted it. He felt he had more to learn first. Erebus had offered a suggestion: Try it.
Tryiim knew that he could be killed by merely attempting it. If Tryiim failed, Raeph would no doubt slay him. The chance to psychometrically study Lord Erebus' lightsaber was incredibly tempting to the Kiffar, but he wasn't sure if it was worth it just yet.
Tryiim had a strong belief that when the time came, and when the time was right, he would know it. But when he took Raeph's place, would he merely be promoted to Erebus' servant? Would he spend his life plotting to kill his Master, only to be made a servant upon accomplishing the task?
But if there was a way he could destroy both...
No, it was foolish to even consider it. No way could Tryiim defeat both Raeph Sunder and the Dark Lord Erebus. It was crazy, it was...
Sith to the core.
There had to be a way, and he might just find it, if he played his cards right.
The time would come, and Tryiim was able to see a lot more than he used to. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to see his opportunity and be able to seize it.
If he succeeded, he would prove himself as superior, and would deserve the title of Dark Lord.
If he failed...


*****


Devan Knorr slipped through the crowded Coruscant plaza, graceful as a vinecat through a jungle.
In his trenchcoat was a pair of grenades, a blaster carbine, and a pair of pistols. His grapping gun was in his back pocket. The loadout was more than Knorr would usually carry, but he had to risk the extra weight today.
His prey would not be an easy catch.
He pushed past a group of bothan tourists, and found a catwalk leaving the plaza. He jogged down it, then entered a highrise overlooking the Senate buildings.
Riding the turbolift to the top level, he withdrew the blaster carbine from his coat and began fitting it with a long-range scope, muzzle flash dampener, and stock.
Holding it in one hand pointed at the floor, Devan exited the turbolift at the top floor, then sprinted down a hallway and into a service room. From the schematics he had downloaded earlier, he knew there was a service stairway to the rooftop just up ahead.
Bursting through the door at the top of the service staircase, Devan stepped over a pair of ventilation pipes and leaned over the edge of the building.
He was over a hundred stories up. The highrise had a sister building, its rooftop was less than ten meters away to Devan's right. The buildings around were all shorter, but only by several stories. Perfect for a grappling gun escape.
Devan raised his carbine and squinted with one eye, staring down the scope towards the windows of the Senate towers.
The Chief of state's office was near the top...twenty-third to twenty-fifth windows on the 167th level looked into his Office...
Rikter would no doubt be in the Office around now, with the Holonews going crazy over events at the Senate Meeting today, the man would have some choice words for the Chief of State. As head of the IAC, he was in a position capable of speaking those chosen words.

The transparisteel windows were reinforced, no doubt to stop people with intentions like Devan's.
He pulled the powerpack from his carbine and reached into his inner jacket pocket. He withdrew a cartridge of remote-detonated high-explosive charges.
Inserting the cartridge, he looked down the sights once more, then took a slow, steadying breath. He dropped to one knee for stability, propping the stock of the weapon against his shoulder.
He slowly exhaled, and fired a dart.
It slammed home, lodged into the duracrete fixture between two of the windows.
He inhaled again, and on the steady exhale, fired again, once more lodging a dart into a duracrete window fixture.
Three more breaths, and three more darts were lodged around the Chief of State's Office.

Today was going to be an interesting news day.

[Trenton Vinh]

Devan Knorr's index finger was tightening on the remote detonator, but moments before triggering the explosives that would potentially murder the Chief of State himself, not to mention a half dozen others, he saw a man sprinting full-speed out one of the Senate Buildings doorways.
Distracted by the scene, he watched another dark-haired man exit the building, yelling and chasing the first man.
Devan looked down his carbine's sights, eyeing the two men. One, he realized, was his target, Griegorey Rikter. The man who had helped Devan Knorr less than a week ago, but also a man who knew too much for his own good.
Knorr leapt from the rooftop, his grappling gun fired off. The cable-head's sharp tip penetrated duracrete, and suddenly Devan Knorr's free-fall became a graceful swing. The Force assisted him in detaching and landing in the promenade relatively gently, and he began pushing through the crowds, chasing Rikter, who had taken off into the busy area, no doubt hoping the mass of bodies could hide his escape.
Whoever was chasing Rikter down didn't matter to Knorr. His assignment was to kill the head of the IAC, not meddle in his affairs.
He did find it odd though, that the man was fleeing full-out from another in broad daylight.
As if demons were on his heels, Rikter sprinted and tumbled through the clusters of civilians, spinning and ducking around sentient beings of all sizes who cried and cursed in protest.

Jonathan Rohaeus was hot on his heels, yelling obscenities and phrases like, "Now you're gonna get it!" and, "You better run!" as he pushed past a pair of Ithorians and nearly knocked over a very-angry wookiee.
Before his arms could get pulled off, Jon continued to chase his prey, the venomous Senator who had nearly murdered him twice.

Devan Knorr interpreted with The Force where Rikter was most-likely headed; the high-rise apartment districts were a few catwalks away. Literally hundreds of similar structures containing thousands of tenants all crammed together could make a maze for strangers to the area, and Rikter clearly hoped he could slip away in the mess.
Knorr sprinted into one of the buildings, and for the second time today, rode a turbolift to the top floor.
He reached the rooftops and peered over the edge overlooking the plaza. Devan could just barely spot Rikter, still pursued by someone, before they broke through the crowds and entered the same building Knorr was now standing on top of.
Devan smirked lightly, The Force often gave him opportunities like this one. Like a fly to the spider's web, it was this intuition that made him such a successful killer.


*****

At the steps to the Senate Buildings, Tryiim waited.
Something in The Force had led him here.
Part of him had thought it was the Dark Side guiding him to where his prey would be, but he felt like he was very wrong now. The Zabrak assassin was elusive, and was nowhere in sight.
Tryiim was about the enter the buildings main doors, when Griegorey Rikter rushed through them, bodily hitting Tryiim out of the way.
Rikter didn't look back, and Tryiim watched him leap the stairs set by set, fleeing from...something.
Moments later that something turned out to be another man, dark-haired and swearing, a large bladed weapon in his hand.
Tryiim could only watch in amazement. Then he realized that the Force had guided him into Rikter's path. Not leading him to his prey, but rather leading him literally right into the path of the one his target would be stalking.
If he couldn't find Devan Knorr himself, he may as well follow Rikter. For Rikter was to be killed by Devan. And only after that happened would Tryiim strike.
Tryiim started after Rikter's pursuer, but did his best to be a bit less obvious about it. As a Sith, it was best not to create a scene without good reason to.
Besides, he had the feeling a large enough scene would be made soon.

[Kael Serasai]

Weaving in and out of people in a busy street always looked so much easier on the HoloNet. Put into practice, it quickly became almost impossible, and after a few minutes Kael had lost both Jon and Rikter.
After Jon had hurled himself out of the office after Rikter, Kael had been momentarily taken aback; combined with the hassle he'd had trying to wrestle his lightsaber from the Chief of State's security guards, it had been enough to hold him up and prevent him being with Jon when he'd taken the second turbolift.

Thankfully, one thing he had which most Holostars didn't, was the Force.
His instincts told him where his quarry was heading, and which route to take to get there quicker. His mind was also flooded with a sense of imminent danger, though whether to himself, Jon, Rikter or someone else, he didn't know.
The Force seemed to tug him from the main street and down a side-alley, where he leaped over a parked speeder and began to sprint with all he could muster... right into a dead end.
"What the..." he panted breathlessly. He'd never gotten lost before, not with the Force guiding him. Even now, he could sense Jon's presence in completely the opposite direction, so how had he ended up here?

A red ribbon caught his eye, tied around a metal pole seemingly placed strategically in the centre of a pile of rubble. He strode over and snatched it off, comparing it with the one tied around his lightsaber hilt. They were the same. Someone was trying to mess with his head, now he was sure of it. First the red-haired figure at the Senate chamber, now this...
"Your attentions would be put to better use elsewhere. Your quarry... he dies soon" said a figure standing in a shadowed doorway. Kael could barely make out his form, and his voice was muffled but familliar.
"Who are you?" he asked, squinting for a closer look. He probed with the Force, but was met with a defense as solid as a permacrete wall. "Answer me!"
"Someone who's been watching you" the man replied. And then he was gone; whether up a service ladder or through the door, he'd moved far too fast for Kael to see. Kael clenched the red ribbon in his fist, then let it drop to the floor. More confused than ever, he took off at speed, trying to make up for lost time before Jon got himself or Rikter killed.

[Trenton Vinh]

Tryiim tapped into his feelings of excitement and urgency, allowing The Force to speed up his legs. He dashed down an alley, the back door of the apartment building flew open at his will. He leapt up entire staircases in two steps, almost gracefully.
Rikter had entered the building next door, but was most likely headed for the rooftops. There weren't many other exits available in each building.
He was nearing the rooftop, slowing to a trot as he headed towards the rooftop doors.

*****

Devan Knorr closed his eyes and reached out to The Force. Focusing his mind on the Senator that was coming his way, he was sure he was in the right position. The edge of the rooftop was high enough to be life-threatening to any non-Force User. Rikter would no doubt risk the leap from rooftop to rooftop, to get himself as far away as possible.
Why Rikter was running, Knorr didn't care. He just just it gave him the
perfect chance to strike; his prey was coming to him.

*****

Jon burst through the crowds, yelling at Riker as the man fled into an apartment complex entrance.
Beskad in hand, he sprinted into the building as well, following the now-ex-Senator Rikter into the stairwells. Rikter was two flights above Jon, often looking back as he ran out of energy.
Jon began to catch up, and at the top floor he managed to get close enough to shove Rikter. The push knocked him into the starwell railing, and Jon slammed into him. Rikter reached out and grabbed Jon's wrist, holding the Beskad at bay with one hand, the other on Jon's throat. Jon managed to land a punch on Rikter, bloodying his nose. Rikter dangled perilously over the edge of the railing.
Face to face, both straining to keep one another at bay, Rikter spat blood when he spoke, "I can't be emprisoned...I have to run!"
Jon said through gritted teeth, "I'm turning you in, Rikter. There's something big going down and you're keeping me from being where I'm needed. You're coming with me!"
Rikter's eyes widened maniacally, he seemed almost hysterical, "I can't be emprisoned, I've been compromised!"
Jon shot back, "Everyone will know you helped get Henrikson killed."
Rikter almost laughed, his eyes darting past Jon's arm, where a ramp led to the rooftop doors.
"You don't understand, Rohaeus. I've been compromised. He won't allow me to live. I'll be killed. Prisons won't stop him."
His words startled Jon; his mind rattled with possibilities. Rikter was only working for a larger player?
"What?" Jon asked. He struggled to keep control of Rikter, the man was scrambling desperately to get out of Jon's hold.
"I know almost nothing about him! But just knowing he exists means I know too much! He'll have me killed before I can talk in court! I need to run and keep running!" He shoved at Jon, but his strength was ebbing.
Jon was tired as well, both men were panting, they had run over a kilometer and a half, then climbed a dozen flights of stairs before wrestling.
"What's his name?" Jon demanded. "Give me something!"
Rikter chuckled, blood from his nose now running down his chin. For a second, he looked at Jon with a bit of respect.

"Even you couldn't solve this crime, Jon." Rikter said, and then twisted his arms to the side in a burst of energy, pushing Jon off balance. He bowled Jon over, the Beskad buried into the stairwell railing.
Jon struggled to rise, but Rikter was already stepping over him, sprinting up the ramp and towards the rooftop doors.
"Rikter!" Jon yelled as he found his feet and took chase, but Rikter had a larger lead now, and was reaching out to push open the double-doors ahead.
Rikter heard Jon's voice only as a vague echo, the doors burst open as he shoved them forwards. The bright sunlight dazzled him, he sprinted into it full out, heading towards the ledge. He could make it the leap to the next building, he had enough speed.
He was ten feet away, when someone pivoted into sight in the corner of his eye.
He half-turned, leaping and trying to see who was there, when the blaster bolt flashed crimson, before slamming into his chest.
There was no kinetic force from the blaster bolt, but Rikter's body recoiled away from it and his jump turned into a spinning fall.
His air was knocked from Rikter's lungs, and when he hit the duracrete rooftop of the opposite building, he lay still. He couldn't move.

Devan Knorr strode over grimly to Rikter, who now lay a few meters away, dying.
He looked down over the man for a moment, Rikter's eyes beginning to unfocus, the sun beating down.
Then Knorr put a blaster bolt between Rikter's eyes, and it was done.
Jonathan Rohaeus stood on the edge of the opposite building, just arriving in time to see Rikter get shot.
"What the-?" Jon stammered, and the Zabrak glanced up at him before turning and walking through the doors into the building.

Inside the building, Knorr started for the stairs, peering over the edge of the top flight to check that the stairwell was empty.
Then something hard slammed into the side of Devan's head, knocking him down the first flight of steps.
The Force whirled around him and he shrugged off some of the pain, turning the tumble into a roll to his feet at the bottom step.
His blaster holstered, and his double-bladed lightsaber snapped to life, both blades emitting vermilion light.
His attacker did the same, red light pouring out of a lightsaber.
Knorr knew right away and hissed, "So he is a Sith!"
Tryiim leapt down the steps at Devan Knorr, blade coming down overhead to slam through Knorr's defenses. Their blades clashed and Tryiim's momentum pushed Knorr back into the wall. But he twirled his blades defensively to keep Tryiim back, and in the cramped stairwell they weaved back and forth.
Devan had suspected that the man he knew only as Lord Sunder was a Sith Lord. When he had first contacted Devan he had claimed that he had watched him for months, and that he had great power. Devan had learned to believe it through his interactions under Sunder's employ.
It wasn't a job, but those who knew Lord Sunder existed knew he was not to be ignored. If he said to do something, you would do it, or else.
He also paid well when he was pleased by someone's work.
Devan was a smart man. As a Dark Jedi, he could sense Sunder had great power.
And now he was the one Lord Sunder wished dead.
Tryiim spun and knicked Knorr's wrist with his lightsaber, and Knorr cursed, the Force flowing into him, he leapt up several steps, looking for higher ground.
"Lord Sunder sends a teenage boy to kill me?" He said, with more confidence than he felt.
Tryiim rushed him, his blade curving in at deadly angles, lightning fast. He spoke back, "I'm Lord Sunder's apprentice, fool."
A rush of The Force gripped Knorr and hurtled him into a wall. He landed hard and dropped down a flight of steps, on the tenth floor he stopped. Before Tryiim could pounce on him, Knorr rolled to his feet and ducked through the door to the tenth floor apartment block.
Tryiim leapt to the door and sprinted through, just as Devan Knorr reached the end of the hallway, marked by a window giving a view of the alley below.
About to turn down a side hallway, Knorr glanced over in time to see Tryiim raise his hand, thrusting a palm forward.
The Force blast shot Devan sideways, shattering through the glass window. Shards of glass cut his face and hands, clinking noisily as he fell. The Force rushed around him as he tried to cushion his fall, but he didn't have enough time to make a big enough difference. He hit the ground hard.

Tryiim peered down through the broken window. Ten floors below, the dead Devan Knorr lay, shattered glass around him. Some blood pooled beneath him.
He turned away and made quickly for the exit, he didn't want to be near the scene of the murder when any witnesses arrived. A Sith must not be identified.

[Trenton Vinh]

Back in the Chief of State's office, for the second time in the day.
Jon counted on both hands how many times he'd gone to offices in the Senate Building; Chief of State's or not, political offices were all the same to him.
Politics was never his strong suit.
In the seat across the desk from him was the Chief of State, Maarko Dorton, who was currently signing paperwork and muttering about something under his breath.
Kael and Jon had gotten split up earlier, before the murder of Griegorey Rikter. Jon blinked and saw a flash of the murder as if it were tattooed on the back of his eyelids.
The Zabrak, staring down at Rikter, who had been a co-conspirator in the Henrikson murder -- before putting a blaster bolt in his temple.
Then he had simply walked into the building stairwell.

But it hadn't ended there, and Jon Rohaeus had been witness to something else. Something that proved this case was bigger than anyone had thought.
Because when the assassin entered the building block, he was attacked by a Sith.
At least, Jon thought it was a Sith. He had a red lightsaber, used Force Powers and tossed the assassin out of a window.

The body still hadn't been found by CSEF police.
Maarko had ordered CSEF police to return Jon and Kael to his Office immediately following the murder of Griegorey Rikter.
The Media had been told only parts of the story, which was airing on the wall-monitor in the Office. Vrikk Morfan, the naval Military Adviser to the Chief of State, muted it sourly. His bothan snout crinkled in annoyance, "This Rikter business...I don't understand what the motive is. Why kill Henrikson? What made him the target rather than any of the other up-and-comers?"

Jon didn't understand why the Bothan was still going on about it, as head adviser to the Chief of State, he should be aiding with Military mobilization.
The Rikter incident was poor timing, and had now overshadowed the fact that the G.A. was going to war. Jon didn't like Vrikk Morfan. In the Military, the man was little more than lip-service for the Senators.
Bureaucrats...

Dorton barely looked up from his paperwork. His glasses hid his eyes as he studied the papers in front of him, "Henrikson was being hailed as the best choice as my successor, Griegorey could have been simply jealous, Vrikk. He was a strange man."
Jon muttered, "I want to investigate it more fully. It goes up real high. Henrikson was just one part of something much larger."
Dorton peered over his glasses at Jon. His age showed on his face; the end of the Chief's career had taken its toll.
"You really think it was a Sith that killed the other assassin?"

The body had not been found, but the Chief of State believed Jon's story, despite the fact that the Zabrak's body had gone missing.
Jon nodded affirmatively, leaning back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms of the seat.
"It was a Sith, he had a red lightsaber, used Force Powers, the whole bit. I even heard the Zabrak say the word Sith. It explains why the Jedi asked me to help them with the assignment, they may have suspected the Sith were involved all along."

Vrikk sniffed, "But the next Chief of State may not be so inclined to have you investigate this. With all the Jedi business in the news, chances are the successor will pull the case and lock it away. You're wasting your time, Rohaeus."

Jon shook his head, and eyed Dorton, "You have to let me work on this, Chief. There's something happening here and yo know it."

Dorton said, "The Iskalloni advance is big, this Sith thing may have something to do with it. I think this Shadownet is going to prove quite the interesting force...especially once it expands a bit."
Jon raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean?" He asked, knowing what the Chief would say in response.
"You are pursuing something that has the best interests of The Galaxy at heart, and you have the perfect background. You should not be stopped in your investigation. You and your partner..." Dorton looked around as if expecting Kael to show up at that moment, but it seemed he had still not been found by the CSEF Police, "Kael Serasai, are going to get to the bottom of this. As Vindicators, you'll not be stopped by even the next Chief of State. However, after this case is closed, you will be evaluated and assessed to gauge if you will receive future assignments or not.
So long as you keep the best interests of the Galactic Alliance at heart, you will be doing the right thing as a Vindicator. Make the difficult decisions, and understand the weight of your decisions."

He was looking intently at Jon, who was a bit surprised by the speech. He cracked a smile when the Chief added with a wave, "I'll make it official in the morning, when I make my resignation. I have a few other names to add to the list as well..."
Jon felt a bit uncomfortable. As a Vindicator, he was able to do a lot of good, but he knew it would also take its toll on him, "Thank you, Chief. I think its time for me to go. There's a lot of work to be done."

The Chief nodded, in his final hours, he seemed like he was trying to do the best thing he could for his beloved Government. He was desperate, but doing what he could with what little time he had left.

Jon left, contemplating the fact that he had free reign to go wherever he wanted, do almost whatever he wanted, and had security clearances of the highest level.
Kael did too, but Jon was a curious about how Kael would use his freedom. Kael was a good man, but he was still a mystery to Jon; he had a past that Jon knew nothing about.
Maybe he would open up more eventually; they had only known one another for a very short, and chaotic span of time.

Kael had mentioned how he felt it was important that they intervene in the upcoming conflict with Iskalloni. He had said he felt it. Jon had met enough Force Users to know that when they said something like that, it was often for good reason.

Jon pulled out his comlink and as he stepped into the light of the setting sun, spoke into it, "Kael; it's Jon, comm me when you get this, I have some important news..."

[Kael Serasai]

Kael was still trying to work out what had happened; Rikter was dead, and apparently, so was his killer. Who had killed the killer, though... that was the mystery. Search-parties were spreading from the scene of the crime now, looking in vain for the body. He'd picked that much up from idle conversation, while trying to remain inconspicuous in the crowd that had gathered.
Thankfully, from what he could make out, Jon was still alive. He was sure he'd have felt it in the Force if it had been otherwise, though; even after such a short time operating together, he felt a connection with Jon like he hadn't felt in a long time. He knew he could trust the man without a doubt, and that had to count for something.
Deciding he'd seen enough for now, he turned... straight into a CSEF officer. The officer had his arms crossed over his wall-like chest, and glared down at Kael over his broken nose and heavy jaw.
"Kael Serasai?" he asked, pulling out a document displayer and sliding it open. The flimsi inbetween the two halves danced with holographic light, which resolved itself into Kael's image, albeit one from years ago.
"Maybe..." Kael replied warily, his hand reaching for his sheathed saberlance.
"Chief of State Dorton has demanded your immediate return to his office" the burly looking officer informed him. "By any means" he added, tucking away the doc-reader next to the stun-baton swinging from his belt.
"In that case, I'll come quietly" Kael smirked, falling into line between the disappointed officer and his partner. Stepping into their patrol speeder, he drew an irritated look from the man-mountain when his comm went off. Obviously, the officer wasn't used to escorting anyone other than apprehended criminals.
"Kael, it's Jon, comm me when you get this, I have some important news..."
Kael glanced up, to find the man-mountain watching him. Even the driver was casting him looks in the rear-view display.
"Can't a guy get a little privacy?" Kael asked, cocking an eyebrow. Still dressed as a nondescript smuggler, he didn't seem to be out of character yet.
The mountain grunted, and activated the privacy screen between the passenger and driver area, giving Kael the benefit of sound-proofing, if not obscurity from view.
"Jon, it's Kael. Your message sounded urgent... what's happening?" he asked into the comm.

[Isaac]

Senator Lohden closed her apartment doors and locked them. She'd dismissed her aides and handmaidens via comm, telling them the day had taken a toll on her and she'd rather be alone when she returned.
Undressing as she slowly walked to her private chambers, she mulled over some of the events of the day; primarily, the weakening of the Chief of State's position, and the events surrounding Griegorey Rikter. Much of what was playing on HNN was speculation. What snippets she'd heard upon leaving the Chief's office could also be speculation, but not the kind she could afford to ignore. It was one word which had caught her attention, one word which caused her to openly eavesdrop at the door, until the Senate Guards had moved her along.
Sith.
It was impossible. There were only two, and her Master had gone to great lengths to ensure there remained only two. Perhaps the investigator had been jumping to wild conclusions... perhaps not. It wasn't worth ignoring, in either case.
Naked, she activated the holotranceiver in the corner of her chambers, and sat before her vanity mirror while the device warmed up. She scowled; her eyes were shadowed, and ringed in grey veins which protruded even through the layers of make-up she'd applied. It was becoming harder to conceal herself these days...

Irate, she withdrew from the mirror and opened the large chestnut wardrobe next to her lavish bed, and withdrew a silken robe of charcoal and mahogany. She slid into it, and drew up the hood, obscuring all but her mouth from view. She didn't know why she felt the need to adopt traditional robes in the presence of her Master, for he alone knew of the full extent of her nature. Perhaps it was simply a matter of tradition.
Stepping onto the plate of the tranceiver sent an automatic projection to her Master, and no sooner had she sunk to her knee than his image resolved itself around her. She did not look, though she was curious to see what new changes had befallen Lord Kroenen.
"Look upon me, my child" the Dark Lord said in a deceptively kind voice, which sounded awkward coming through various filters and devices. The sound sent an unconscious shudder down Taja's spine... something which the Sith Lord picked up on. "I repulse you", he noted.
"Forgive me, Master" Senator Lohden apologised, raising her eyes to meet his. They found none; just an armoured faceplate bearing down upon her. "You're wearing battle armour..."
"How fares Coruscant?" Kroenen asked, pushing his appearance aside to focus on more immediate matters.
"Pitifully, My Lord. The Chief of State has lost his grip on the Galactic Alliance" Lohden smiled. "I expect the Senate will force him out of office when it convenes in two days".
"The weak give way to the strong" Kroenen observed. "Make it one day, and see to it you're in position to take his place".
"It will be done, My Lord" Taja replied, keeping the satisfaction from her voice. "I have urged him to dispatch much of the Alliance fleet to the Marcol Void..."
"I did not instruct you to do so" Kroenen said dangerously. "You use your initiative without rational thought. They could destroy all we've worked to achieve".
"Or be destroyed themselves in the process of trying" Taja countered. Kroenen was silent; she hated not being able to see his face, for she had no other indication of reading her Master's intentions.
"Master?" she asked, after half a minute passed between them.
"What did you contact me for?" Kroenen asked, once again deftly changing the topic.
"Disturbing news, My Lord. There may be..." Taja paused. Her revelation could very well be the end of her; if not from Kroenen's anger at her believing such a stupid notion, then from her inability to forsee and prevent such a complication.
"Yes?" the Dark Lord hissed through his mask.
"There may be Sith. Here, on Coruscant" she relented.
"I had felt a disturbance..." Kroenen pondered aloud. Taja expected him to elaborate; as usual, she waited in vain, while the Lord of the Sith lapsed into another introverted silence. Then, just as Taja's attention wavered to the shadows dancing across her apartment walls, the Dark Lord spoke again, snapping her focus back to attention.
"Do nothing" was his clear and precise instruction. Taja spoke before thinking.
"You do not wish me to hunt and eliminate him?"
"There will be no need for such wastes of effort. In time, he will come before us" Kroenen predicted. Taja didn't ask for proof of this knowledge, for she knew not to question Kroenen's insight. She simply had to trust it to be right.
"As you wish, Lord Kroenen" she said, bowing her head to indicate her report had come to an end.
"You have done well on Coruscant, Lady Malys" Kroenen commended her. "Do not contact me again until the Alliance is in your hands".
"Very well. I wish you success in the Marcol Void" she replied.
"The Marcol Void?" Kroenen repeated, amused. And then, again with no further elaboration, he ended the transmission.

Senator Lohden - Darth Malys - stood shakily from her kneeling position. She was sweating profusely, something she'd come to associate with speaking with her Master. His presence terrified even her, despite the great distance between them.
Why had he almost laughed at her, just now? She threw herself down on her bed and discarded of her robe, allowing the cool processed air to wash over her and relax her into a deep meditation.

*

Kroenen paced the confines of his sanctum, only able to do so by the powered armour he wore into battle. He didn't intend to participate in any ground assault or invasion; his children were more than capable of handling that task alone.
His objective lay in holding the Void for as long as possible. He may not be able to walk unassisted, or wield his lightsaber without aid from a cybernetic gauntlet, or even feed without a tube forced into his stomach, but he could bend the Force to his indomitible will. And with that will, he could dishearten the enemy, amplifying fear into terror, grief into utter despair, uncertainty into anguish. He had heard of nor met another individual who could match him in the artistry known as battle meditation. The Galactic Alliance could throw their entire fleet at his small force in the Void; it wouldn't matter. All would succumb to his will, long enough for his full invasion force to attack the GA from all sides, bypassing the Void entirely in favour of routes long coveted by the Iskalloni.

The enemy had taken the bait; now, he had to make sure to hold them long enough for the trap to snap closed.
With a swirl of black robes, Lord Kroenen of the Sith, Autarch of the Iskalloni, left his sanctum for the first time in years and prepared to join the battle in the Void.

[Trenton Vinh]

After Tryiim's successful kill, he returned to Raeph, who had been finding out what he could about the incoming invasion force.
It seemed these Iskalloni forces were going to do some damage, if the source had been accurate.

Raeph's contact had also given him something much more interesting; the Hyperspace coordinates to an Iskalloni-controlled planet. Rumor was that a pair of smugglers had managed to escape the planet before being spotted, but had been horrified by what they saw.

The two Sith immediately set off towards the planet.

Tryiim had spent the trip meditating on his first kill. Devan Knorr had been easier to slay than he had expected. Tryiim had not been granted the honor of killing the Dark Jedi with his lightsaber, but he was certain that his weapon would taste blood soon enough.

The ship shuddered as it exited Hyperspace, and a planet came into view in the viewport.
Raeph said softly, "Look like my source was right. I would have rewarded him more generously had I not killed him."
Tryiim raised an eyebrow. He was sensing his Master in The Force, noting his amusement.

"Are we going to investigate on the planet, Master?" the student asked tentatively.
"Yes, take us in." Raeph said distractedly. He was watching the planet, deep in thought.

Grey and black clouds covered the skies, hiding the surface below.
As the shuttle began to penetrate the soupy cloud-cover, turbulence rocked the ship. The vibrations continued to grow until they broke through the bottom, and both men gasped in surprise at the surface.
The surface was murky, pools of stagnant water surrounded by broke, mossy trees.
There was a massive structure directly ahead, pumping black smoke into the poisoned atmosphere.

Tryiim found a small landing platform and set the shuttle down. No one came out to greet them.
He wondered if it was automated, that only droids would be inside.

The ramp lowered and a wave of humid, foul-smelling air passed over the Sith. Nose crinkled in disgust, Tryiim followed closely behind Raeph.

"What do you expect to learn by coming here, Master?"

Raeph walked to the doorway leading into the facility and waved a casual hand; the door slid open loudly, squealing on its hinges.
Inside was a massive facility, with conveyor belts and lifts and chains everywhere.
There appeared to be some droids, and there were signs of humanoid operating stations for some of the machines, but no one showed up.

"Where could everyone be?" Tryiim wondered aloud.

The two Sith walked across a thick catwalk, overlooking a drop so high they couldn't even see the ground. Fog or smoke flooded the lower levels, making it difficult to see more than a hundred meters below.

Raeph found a console on the far end of the catwalk, the steel grate beneath his boots clanging noisily as he walked.
He plugged a small data downloader into the console, and watched as the tiny device flashed with a green light, indicating it was receiving information.

Tryiim watched from behind his Master, eying him darkly. He tentatively reached out into The Force, letting it feed off his anticipation and feelings of readiness. He was supposed to hate his Master, but he did not. The more he saw Raeph interact with Erebus, the more he had come to terms with the fact that Raeph was still an apprentice himself. Erebus was the true Master. The true Sith Lord.
Raeph was a good teacher for Tryiim in many ways, but not anymore. Tryiim understood the role of the Sith, and knew he had a great destiny ahead of him. But with Raeph as his Master, he would be doomed to failure. Erebus held the wisdom and power that Tryiim needed, and craved.

Tryiim raised a hand and channeled his anger at Raeph; from his palm erupted a blast of electric energy.
It slammed into Raeph's back and doubled him over the console. He cried out in pain. Then his robes whirled around him, his lightsaber sprang to life, and Raeph bellowed,
"You forget your place!"

His feeling of betrayal echoed through the Force, amplifying Raeph's already steaming Force Aura. His rage sped up his movements, and he lunged at his apprentice, waving his lightsaber overhead to bisect Tryiim down the middle.
Raeph's free hand curled and blue static energy arced between his fingers.
When Tryiim ignited his own blade and riposted the strike, Raeph released the energy in his hand. It cascaded over Tryiim, knocking him from his feet and lifting him into the air. He hit the railing of the catwalk hard, bending it under his weight. He felt the breath knocked from his lungs but he managed to stay on his feet.

Still a student, Tryiim had less control over the Force than Raeph did; he had years of experience in Sith training that Tryiim didn't have yet.
But Tryiim had great power in The Force, and had the potential to surpass his teacher.
Tryiim's blinded eyes blazed crimson with the Dark side, and he twirled to avoid Raeph's follow-up attack.
Impulsive as he always was, Raeph would go on the offensive, wishing to crush his student for attacking him. His anger also blinded him. This was one of the dangers of the Dark side; the emotion and passion can fuel one's power, but it can also be the catalyst that destroys them.

Tryiim knew the Jedi had a few things right, the patience Jedi training instilled had helped Erebus grow powerful over time. Subtlety was crucial to both Jedi and Sith. This patience is what would help Tryiim defeat his teacher.
His power flared as he fed off the pain from his wounds, and he knew he would feel it in The Force when his moment would come, when his patience would pay off.
As Raeph weaved a deadly web of lightsaber energy, Tryiim parried and blocked as fast as he could, using his teacher's kinetic energy to bounce his own blade into position to block the next strike.
Crimson blades weaved, slamming into one another with sparking crashes.
Raeph followed a pair of swipes with a left hook that knocked Tryiim back three steps. One hand came up to cover the wound opening on his cheek.
Tryiim took a running pair of steps to regain lost ground, and then he felt it in The Force. His run was suddenly a leap, Force-guided and assisted. His blade in both hands, he whirled, Raeph raising his blade to catch Tryiim's. But the lightsaber attack was a diversion that allowed Tryiim's knee to slam into Raeph's chest. The student smirked as he became the Master, his lightsaber twirling and severing four of Raeph's fingers.
Lightsaber landing on the ground, Raeph gasped in pain, but had his words knocked from his mouth as Tryiim landed, pivoted, and swung a kick into the side of his head.
His Force-power weakened as his consciousness fuzzed for a moment, and Tryiim knew he'd never have an opportunity like this again.
He fired off a flurry of strikes, Raeph moving his hands instinctively to parry, but just as many blows landed as he managed to block. Then his back was against the catwalk railing, and below that -- a hundred meter drop into heavy fog. No way of knowing what was beneath that.
Tryiim brought his weapon down, but Raeph moved out of the way, and part of the railing was cut apart.
Following up with another strike, Raeph let his legs sag out from under him, allowing the blade to pass over his head. Leaning against the railing to keep from falling, Raeph had a split second to stare into his apprentice's blind eyes, before the railing gave way. Raeph dropped backwards, looking up at his student as he fell.
The fog consumed him, swallowing him in its milky jaws, then Raeph Sunder was gone.

Tryiim let his lightsaber deactivate, dropping to his knees in fatigue. He stared down at where his Master had disappeared, and felt a shudder in The Force as Raeph landed hundreds of meters below.

He had done it. Erebus had known, somehow, that Tryiim would best his Master. Raeph had been the closest thing to a father that Tryiim would ever have, but he knew that his training would be much better now. His power would grow, and he felt like part of his destiny was being fulfilled.
This act of murder had been his first step towards becoming the Dark Lord. The Rule of Two was restored, but it would be a long time before Tryiim would consider attempting to kill Erebus.

Perhaps Erebus would now allow him the honor of taking the 'Darth' title.
No longer was Tryiim a mere padawan; he had grown in The Force from this. Conflict fueled one's strength, and the Dark side was growing in Tryiim.

He stood up, retrieved his discarded robes, and pulled the data chip from the console. He left in a hurry, returning to his shuttle and heading back to the asteroid base in the Maw cluster.
Darth Erebus, his new Master, would be awaiting his return.