Trust No One

[Trenton Vinh]

The ShadowNet Headquarters did not exist, at least not officially.
It was never mentioned during the now ex-Chief of State's speech to the Senate that there would be literally thousands of operatives working across the G.A. to establish and maintain stability.
The 'non-existent' headquarters had been established in a Space Station above Vandor-3, the fifth planet in the Coruscant system.
On the planet, there was also a non-existent base that housed the R&D departments, as well as training facilities and living quarters.

The interior the Station, aptly codenamed 'Penumbra', was buzzing with activity, as hundreds of operatives busily worked to build a spy and espionage network. Most of the operatives were ex-military, or ex-police/security forces. The desk and lab workers were mostly human, multi-lingual and all had sworn their secrecy. The higher-ups in the ShadowNet were humans, Cerean and Bothan, chosen for their species pattern-finding abilities, binary-brains, and espionage-savvy societies, respectively.

Jonathan Rohaeus realized he had stepped into a new world when he exited the turbolift and started down the hallway towards the Director of Operations Office. Penumbra was built in the shape of a pendulum, with a wide round bottom and a thin, tapered top. The Director's Office and Quarters were on the peak.

A bothan female secretary said to him, "One moment, Mister Rohaeus, he will be with you shortly."
Jon nodded and stood in the small antechamber to the Office, eying the closed double-doors warily. He was here to meet the Director, to officially begin his first Vindicator's assignment, and get the tools he needed to get the job done.
The bothan had a comm headset on, and spoke into the microphone near her lips, "Sir? Vindicator Rohaeus is here to speak with you."
Jon raised an eyebrow.
Vindicator Rohaeus.
He wondered vaguely where Vindicator Serasai was. After the Chief of State assigned him to the Vindicators, he had been whisked off to this station; and before entering, he had been stripped of his weapons and all electronic devices.
They had even used handscanners to ensure he didn't have any concealed items.
Security was tight in the ShadowNet.

The doors to the Office opened, and a man in all black clothes strode out, his boots echoing off the shiny steel floor.
He paused when he saw Rohaeus, his eyes on him. Jon could not identify him, as the rest of his face was concealed by a black scarf. The man had a deep scar set over his left eye, which appeared to be cybernetic.
For a moment the two men stared at one another.
Finally, the man said in a dark tone, "Trust no one. The knives don't come out until the back is turned."
Jon frowned, his brow furrowing. The man said once more,
"Trust no one."
Then he left.
The bothan secretary acted as if nothing had happened, and waved Jon into the Office,
"The Director will see you, now."
Jonathan slowly started towards the now-open double-doors, wondering who the mysterious man had been, and who he would meet upon entering the Office.

[Kael Serasai]

The shuttle ride from Coruscant to Vandor-3 seemed to be taking a lifetime, but Kael Serasai was in no rush to reach their destination; so much had happened over the last few hours, it was getting hard to keep up.
His thoughts focused on the conversation he'd had with the Chief of State right before the man had resigned his position. There was, as yet, no word on who would be replacing the head of the Galactic Alliance, but it would need somebody soon or risk losing its head to the incoming Iskalloni.

Maarko Dorton had sat with Kael, alone, and discussed the ShadowNet program at large.
"I know you've gone to great pains to remain off the Government's radar" Dorton had said, speaking like a teacher to a child. "But ShadowNet is as far removed from the Jedi Order as can be. We need a young man of your talents, just as we need other men and women of different talents".
"And how do I know this organisation will be any different to ones that came before it?" Kael had asked, when Maarko had finished explaining the purpose of ShadowNet. "How do I know ShadowNet won't become stagnant or worse, be turned into a private police force for whomever takes your place?"
"You don't" Maarko had admitted. "But perhaps it's time to put a little faith in like-minded people, no?"

And so, against his better judgement and with apprehension nagging at him, Kael had agreed to become a Vindicator and take the shuttle to 'Penumbra'.
When at last the station came into view, Kael stood and slipped into his sleeveless black mid-length cloak, hiding the contents of the utility belts and harness he wore. He'd taken the time to change out of his smuggler get-up, but couldn't stomach the thought of wearing his old Jedi garb, so he'd settled on something in-between; a black high-necked armourweave shirt with no sleeves, fingerless gloves, and loose black pants. Comfortable, casual, and flexible for immediate combat. Not that he expected to be getting into any fights in the next couple of hours...

The shuttle angled in close to one of many docking rings on the stations underside, and Kael was escorted out by the shuttle guard.
"You should take some time to get your bearings" the guard advised. "The Director is expecting you, so don't take too long". With that, he and Kael parted ways at the bank of turbolifts which would take him into the upper reaches of the station. He chose the centre lift, running his hand over the smooth railing inside, taking in the freshly-manufactured smell and the untarnished reflective interior. Already it was a far-cry from the Jedi Temple that he was used to, perhaps even a welcome change.
He studied the controls, and assumed that the centre lift was the only one in the complex which would travel directly to the summit of the station; on approach, he'd noticed the tapered construction, so it made sense that the lifts would be staggered to end at certain levels.
He rode to the floor marked 'Central', and stepped out into a colony of activity. This part of the station must have been the foremost hub of activity, so much so that it resembled an indoor high street. Speeder taxi's hugged the ground in specially marked areas, ferrying personnel around the hub. Terminals gave directions and information, while off-duty officers milled around outside what appeared to be cantina's selling a select array of food and beverages.

Kael walked through the makeshift street slowly, eyeing the people around him warily. He passed a small arms vendor, where a large man with a scar running from his eye to the back of his bald head was inspecting a top-of-the-range scope. The man turned and fixed him with a blank stare; Kael noticed his scarred eye was blind, making him all the more unsettling.
Moving on, he stopped at a terminal and brought up the directory; it listed every utility on this level of the station, and Kael quickly realised this was ShadowNet's answer to entertaining its members while off-duty. Vendors, cantinas, even a sport centre located at the centre of the hub, it was designed to stop the locals from getting hostile with one another while simultaneously feeding their needs.

"Attention: All personnel are reminded that no weapons are to be carried in the recreation hub" a female voice rang out throughout the area. Kael wasn't sure if it was organic, some form of A.I, or just a pre-recorded message. "All new arrivals please report to the Director's office to schedule an induction. Dormitory allocation and personal effects lockers can be acquired at the Department of Resources on floor 13".
The voice continued relaying whatever messages it was set to deliver, but Kael had already headed for the turbolift. He was carrying weapons, and one of them was a lightsaber; best not to get into trouble on his first day.
He travelled to floor 13, which was thankfully quiet save for two technicians fixing security cameras to the ceiling. He approached the main desk, smiled at the Iktotchi woman sat there, and waited. She didn't look up from her work, instead continued typing away on her transparent keypad, working on something Kael couldn't see from this angle.
He cleared his throat loudly.
"Yes?" the Iktotchi asked with a pointed sigh, finally forcing herself to look up at him.
"Vindicator Serasai" Kael introduced himself. The title felt malformed on his tongue; he'd have to get used to that one.
"I know who you are" the Iktotchi snapped. "Do you think we're inept? Your personal space has been allocated, you need to see the Director before you're given access to it".
"Oh. The announcement..."
"Is for off-duty Vindicators and other personnel. Honestly, what were you doing in the rec area?" the woman asked. Kael was contemplating a little Force-influence at this point. "If you'd gone straight to the Director, you wouldn't be wasting everyone's time, mine included!"
"Okay... I'll just... go..." Kael murmered, gesturing over his shoulder at the turbolift doors and backing away. The Iktotchi glared at him all the way to the turbolift.
"One more thing" she called, as he was about to step in. "No weapons in the Director's office. And we'll need to get your uniform measurements, we can't have you walking around looking like a common street rat. And that hair.."
"The Director needs to see me" Kael cut off, before he actually did silence her with the Force. "We'll discuss all this another time".

He rode the turbolift to the summit of the station, and emerged in a hallway that led to the Director of Operations' Office.
He cast about for an assistant of some sort, and finally came across a Bothan seated behind a desk. She was female, and Kael was instantly wary; that Iktotchi had to have the worst attitude he'd encountered since dealing with the Hutt's on Nar Shaddaa.
"I'm here to see..."
"The Director? He's currently seeing somebody" the Bothan replied. Despite her gruff voice, she was far sweeter than the Demon of Resources, as Kael had come to think of the Iktotchi woman. "Vindicator Serasai, am I correct?"
"That's right" Kael replied, no longer surprised that his name was known. He supposed it was part of what ShadowNet were supposed to be good at.
"Excellent. I'm currently amending your public information file" the Bothan beamed, as though he were her pet project. "Just as a precaution. Usually people that are supposed to be dead cause a lot of suspicion, and thats what leads to organisations like ours" she said with a very un-Bothan-like giggle.
"Right" Kael replied, not sure if he was supposed to start talking spy-savvy with her.
"We were unsure whether to relieve you of your weapons or not when you boarded 'Penumbra'..." the Bothan said, looking up at him puzzled. "You're the first Jedi we've had onboard. Is it against your faith to remove your lightsaber from your possession?"
"What faith?" Kael said in a low tone, unstrapping his harness and weapons belts and dropping them on the finely-polished desk.
"Oh..." the Bothan exclaimed in surprise, as a string of blasters, palm-hackers, stims and a lightsaber clattered before her. "I see... we'll transfer these to your safe lock-up for the time being. I'll speak to the Director about getting you permission to carry your lightsaber, at least".
"Thank you" Kael said, finding that he meant it; that lightsaber was the only thing he cherished. Even now he felt naked without it.

He took a seat and waited, feeling Jon's familliar presence close-by, and wondering what the Director would be like...

[Trenton Vinh]

Jonathan Rohaeus entered the dimly lit office of the Director of the Shadownet, silently dropping into the waiting seat. In front of him was an expensive desk, covered with a sparse few items, and the Director's seat.
His chair was high-backed, facing away from Jon, and the ex-smuggler noted that the chair was armored, most likely to protect him in case of an attack.
The office was shadowy, with a wall-wide viewport behind the desk offering a view of Vandor-3.
In the distance, the light of Coruscant Prime shone like a beacon, offering the only illumination in the room.
The Director's desk had a small plaque stating, "Director of Operations, Callius Reyan"
The Endorian Oak desk had a small console on it, facing away from Jon, and no doubt housed several hidden compartments. It also featured a thin, golden, round crystal about twice the size of a credcoin.
The chair swung around to reveal the Cerean Director, who had his elbows on the arms of his chair, and his fingers webbed together in front of his face.
His high brows and bald head didn't quite startle Jon, but he immediately admitted his first impression, "I expected a Bothan to be running this show..."
The Cerean smirked, and arrogantly replied,
"Too many Holodramas, Jonathan Rohaeus. Instead you have a Cerean. I assume you know about my species' rather unique traits?"
Jon nodded, "Binary brains and hearts, yes."
Callius nodded, his index fingers straightening to an arrow. Then he got straight to the point,
"You can call me Chief or Director Reyan, and I wanted to meet you face to face before accepting you into the Shadownet. I know you were appointed a Vindicator by the now ex-Chief of State, and I'm sure he had his reasons for it, but the fact is he was also under incredible duress. He may have made an error in granting you this privilege. I know from your file that espionage is one of your strong suits. I also know that you aren't the subtlest of humans."

Shrugging, Jon eyed Callius and offered, "If you have a problem with how I plan to conduct my investigations, I am sure you could kick me out easily enough."

Callius' smile seemed permanently affixed to his face. His grey eyes settled on Jon, and he stated pointedly,
"I do not have problems with your methods as of yet, but I do have problems with your attitude, Rohaeus. You are a leader, and leaders should not let themselves be torn apart by sending their subordinates to their deaths. I understand you had great difficulty dealing with the responsibilities of leadership in the past. I hope you will be able to cope with it more effectively in the future."

Jon's brows lowered and he frowned,
"If you are saying you want me to be more willing to spare lives, than I do not think I will be able to do that, sir. Truth is, we need good men and women who are willing to be held accountable for their actions in this organization if it is to have the role it is intended for. It is a terrible feeling to send a person to their death, and I've lost many friends to war sir. Ruthlessness breeds inhumanity."
Callius countered, "Often it is the more ruthless men who achieve their goals. And you certainly will be held accountable, Rohaeus."

The Director turned in his chair to look outside, his eyes on Jon's reflection in the viewport. Jon could see the man's crystalline eyes reflected against the starfield outside.
Callius said, "I want you to remember what you're fighting for, Rohaeus. The good of our civilization and the G.A., not its individual citizens. That is why the Jedi failed, they wished to save everyone, and often times that isn't possible."

Jon replied easily, "The Jedi wished to help everyone, and we live in a Galaxy that can be ungrateful to that. The Order being ousted is a terrible tragedy to a government that needs all the help in can get."

The Director blinked slowly, for a moment his reflection was invisible, and all Jon could see was the stars and distant sun.
Then the eyes opened again, and this time there was a glint of knowledge in them,
"I agree with you in some aspects. The Jedi are certainly allies worth having, but they also were the source of many conflicts as well. It is a new time for the Galactic Alliance, and the Jedi are a bit old-fashioned. The Shadownet is the upgrade."

Jon was growing tired of this man, and asked, "Why exactly am I here, Director? Why did you want to see me before I get my first assignment?"

Callius' smile was noticeable in the transparisteel now, a grin against the black of space, "I thought you might want to know who you're working for. But more importantly, I wanted to meet the man who is working under me. It is my job to know who you are, and who all of my associates are."
He turned back to face Jon and added, "I am a very good judge of character, Rohaeus. I read people very well. A Cerean trait, perhaps. You could say I can learn twice as much about someone as many others could in the same span of time."

The Corellian let a characteristic grin creep onto his own face, and said, "Maybe you underestimated my intelligence, Director. I've learned a lot about you in such a short time. And I didn't get to read your file."

The Cerean's smile could now be heard in his voice. Amused, he replied, "If you are half as clever as you act, perhaps someday you'll be in my seat, and if that day ever comes, you might understand why I am the way I am."

Shrugging as he stood up to leave, Jon answered back,
"If I'm ever in your place, this organization won't need to have guys like you around."
The insult was taken with the same amused smile, the Cerean was a man with a forked tongue, no doubt. Jon wondered if he had been a lawyer before he got this job.
"You're assignment is waiting for you with my secretary, Rohaeus. You'll hear from me soon."

Jon was already halfway out the door.
Bureaucrats, he thought bitterly.
The door closed behind him and he paused to shake his head. The secretary had left a sealed envelope on the desk, ready for him. On the soft leather were the words, Vindicator Rohaeus.

He opened it where he stood, and flipped it over, the contents spilling into his waiting hand. A small pair of implants, a microphone and an earpiece to allow communication without the need for a comlink. Jon wondered if he wanted to implant the device; he wouldn't mind so long as the Director didn't call. Ever.
There was also a datachit containing his mission briefing, and a relatively plain looking metal ring.
Jon had the feeling the unexceptional ring wasn't as common as it looked, and expected there would be mention of it in the briefing. He looked up and realized Kael was patiently waiting in a seat, watching him quietly.
Jon smiled broadly, "There you are! Are you here to meet the Director too?" He moved away from the secretary towards Kael, dropping into the seat beside him. He lowered his voice, "What a piece of work..."

[Kael Serasai]

Kael sat, amused, as he watched Jon rifling through the contents of his envelope, uncertainty coming off him in waves. In the short time he'd known Jon, he'd come to believe the man wasn't the type of person who dealt too well with shady operatives and political machinations. No doubt Jon would hate it here, but Kael found something refreshing about the sterile environment, the efficient personnel... though he had yet to meet the man in charge of all this. When ShadowNet had first been mentioned, Kael had assumed it would be run directly by the Chief of State, though in hindsight that would have been a bad move. ShadowNet would have been labelled as the Chief's secret police, a brand which often served to hinder the Jedi Order in the past. Careful planning had gone into this operation, to ensure it wasn't the Jedi Order that it was replacing.

"There you are! Are you here to meet the Director too?" Jon asked, seeming to realise he was being watched. The Corellian dropped into the seat next to him, putting the contents of the envelope away. "What a piece of work" he muttered in an undertone, and Kael instinctively glanced at the secretary, who was still busy typing away at her terminal.
"What can I expect?" Kael asked in equally hushed tones. "Let me guess... a shady Bothan, one hand on a blaster hidden under the desk, the other offering up a glass of fine wine..."
"Too many holo's" Jon muttered, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "He's a Cerean, and as shady as they come. He..."
"Vindicator Serasai, the Director will see you now" the Bothan secretary interrupted, peering over the desk at the pair.
Kael nodded to Jon, clasped his shoulder, then headed to the doors.
"Be seeing you around, kid" Jon called.
"Not if I see you first" Kael replied, stepping through the double doors as they opened. They closed behind him, leaving him in darkness, save for the pale glow of Coruscant Prime filtering in through the wall-wide viewport.
Kael made his way carefully across the office, and ran a hand over the polished desk. An amber crystal caught his attention, and he resisted the urge to pick it up for a closer look. Already feeling like he was in a place he wasn't supposed to be, he looked up at the viewport, and saw amongst the stars a pair of reflected eyes. They watched him, studied him. His own brilliant blue-green eyes reflected back at him, and the other pair of eyes travelled up to meet them.
Finally, the high-backed armoured chair swivelled, and Kael caught the silhouette of an elongated cranium against the viewport.
"Vindicator Serasai" the Director said, gesturing him to take a seat. Kael suspected his soft voice was deceptively so - already he had the impression of a hardened, calculating being, and that was without probing the Cerean with the Force. Somehow, he expected that would be a bad thing to do.
"Director Reyan" Kael replied, noting the Directors name from the plaque infront of him.
Half a minute passed between them in silence, each man studying the other intently, neither man penetrating the others gaze. Finally, the Director spoke again.
"You are puzzling, Vindicator Serasai" he said, briefly parting his steepled fingers before his face, and shuffling forward slightly in his chair.
"It's Kael" Kael said, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other, his arms hanging loosely on the arms of the chair.
"It's Vindicator Serasai" the Director replied, and the confident smile that had began to show on Kael's face vanished. "As I said, you are puzzling. In the past, you've flirted dangerously with the idea of unconventionality. You've erased yourself from the radar of your superiors, and turned your back on those you once followed..."
"Those were..."
"Exceptional circumstances?" the Director finished for him, and picked up a piece of flimsi from his desk. It had a holocapture of Kael attached, along with what Kael assumed to be an extensive record of his life. He'd gone to great pains to have that record removed from existence, but apparently, ShadowNet had its ways.
"So you find me puzzling. And yet, here I am" Kael said, gesturing around him at the dark office. "You must want me for something".
"I did not appoint you. As with Vindicator Rohaeus, you were appointed by our former Chief of State, possibly in a moment of unclarity". The Director lay the flimsi back on the neat pile on his desk, then stood up, walking to the viewport to gaze out at the stars. Kael had been beginning to think the Cerean was permanently glued to his chair.

"The Galactic Alliance is on the brink of change" the Director said with ferverence. "In his last hours, Chief of State Dorton made a right decision in ushering in that change, helping to propogate its security by publicly announcing ShadowNet".
"I was there" Kael said, without thinking.
"Indeed? Then I don't doubt it came as a blow to the system when the Jedi Order were expelled?"
"Actually, no, it didn't" Kael said defiantly. "I cut my ties with them long ago".
"Good" the Director said. "Because they represent everything that was wrong with the Galactic Alliance. I don't want their memory to poison its future".
"I am no Jedi" Kael reaffirmed, and the Director turned to face him once again. "But I'm no push-over, either. If you think you can control me, you're mistaken".
"And why shouldn't I control you? You are subordinate to me" the Director said, though he wasn't harsh. Kael wondered if he was being tested.
"I am here to do what is for the best for the Galactic Alliance, not the bureaucrats that run it" Kael shot back. "If that means disobeying an order, I'll do it. If it means deposing the current management, I'll do it. If it means removing those that directly or indirectly threaten the safety of the GA... I'll do it".

The Cerean sat down and once more stared at Kael in silence. His smile hadn't disappeared yet, and Kael wondered what he was hiding behind it. Once again he was tempted to probe the Director through the Force, but his better judgement told him to resist the urge.
"You may go. My secretary should have finished updating your public record to reflect your ongoing survival" the Director said, gesturing Kael to the doors at the back of the room. "It's bad business to have dead men drawing attention to themselves. That, and you're not very good at staying under the radar". This much Kael knew to be true; when it had mattered most, he'd ran straight back into the public eye, and brought himself before both the Jedi and the Chief of State, and neither party had seemed surprised.
"And when do I hear of my first assignment?" Kael asked, rising to leave.
"My secretary will furnish you with your first assignment and standard-issue equipment" the Director replied, already turning away from Kael to continue staring into the stars beyond. Kael wondered if the Director spent all day contemplating the stars, or if it was merely part of some mystifying act.

Emerging from the office, he took his envelope from the secretary's desk and poured the contents into his hand. As expected, he'd been given an earpiece and a datachit, just like Jon. A plain silver band was also inside, and a tiny scroll of flimsi wrapped in a rubber band. Frowning, he pocketed the flimsi, and slipped on the ring, already suspecting it contained some sort of micro-homing device. The earpiece also went into his pocket; the meeting with the Director had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and he didn't wish to speak to any other ShadowNet higher-ups just yet.
Curious, he took out the flimsi again, and unrolled it. There was nothing on it, except the letter S and a hand-written comm frequency.
"Weird..." he said to himself. He looked around for Jon, but the Corellian had gone, perhaps to his quarters or to requisition some supplies.
"Vindicator Serasai?" the secretary asked, carefully interrupting his thoughts. "The Director also asked me to return this to you". She pulled a clear plastoid containment box from her desk and laid it before him. Inside was his lightsaber and weapon sheath. "Sorry, the other weapons are strictly not allowed onboard" she apologised, but Kael waved it aside. He had his lightsaber, and that was all that mattered to him. Taking it out, he ran his fingers down the red cloth wrapped around the elongated hilt, then nodded his thanks to the Bothan and left.

[Trenton Vinh]

Kavan Moirai had left the Jedi Temple on Coruscant with more knowledge of the religion his great-great-great grandfather had learned from. His legacy had led directly down their bloodline to Kavan himself.
Kavan wandered through the grand plaza, the spires of the temple at his back. Coruscant Prime set slowly in the distance, casting deep shadows across the temple's face.
Kavan turned and looked at the beautiful structure, regarding it carefully. The Jedi were a good people, but their religion seemed flawed...somewhere. He didn't quite understand how they could being emotionless would help them solve their problems.
Perhaps that was why the Jedi took on younger pupils than Kavan, who had learned to touch The Force in his Meditations by separating his mind from body, he had never considered the role of emotions in The Force.
He recited the Jedi Code and tried to make sense of the words. He respected the Jedi for wanting peace and safety for everyone, but that was also their greatest weakness; there was no way they could save everyone.
The final light of the sun disappeared behind the Temple, and suddenly Kavan saw it differently, The Force offering him a glimpse of the future; The Jedi Temple invaded, attacked.
He watched as one of the spires collapsed in his mind's eye, and the image stunned him. He blinked and the vision was gone, fleeing to the shadows of the coming night.
Kavan bowed his head, if the vision came to pass, the Jedi would be better off not worrying about anyone but themselves for now.

He turned away from the Temple once more, suddenly realizing that he had no idea where he was going now. As per his family tradition, Kavan had been dropped off on Coruscant to find his way. Find his path and forge his destiny.
In his desperation upon arrival, Kavan had gone to the source of his family's history -- the Temple. He hadn't thought of what he was going to do next.
He looked at the ground as he walked, people on the catwalks and streets passed him, but as it grew darker, fewer people appeared.
With the sun down, Coruscant became a bit different.
Swoop gangs populated the undercity, thugs and criminals prowled the streets.
Bars and clubs were always packed with people, illegal deals not uncommon.
Kavan squeezed the lightsaber crystal his father had given him tightly, it warmed in his palm and soothed him slightly, but he felt off.
Something wasn't right...

Out of the darkness, a Zabrak limped slowly towards him. He had deep cuts all over, his left arm appeared broken. His right leg was injured too, stunting his walk into a slide.
He was reaching out at Kavan with his one good hand, and Kavan took a step towards him to offer his help to the wounded man.
Then the hand the man held out clenched into a fist, and Kavan felt an invisible hand grasp at his throat. He felt himself lifted into the air, the cold grip tightening around him, constricting his throat. He choked, closed his eyes. He focused his energy and built it up quickly, then unleashed a wave of Force Energy that sent the injured Zabrak to the ground. The cold grip dropped Kavan, and deposited him on the pavement too, gasping for breath.
But then the Zabrak was on him again, Dark Force Energy coming off him in waves.
The injured man had not expected a Force User when he had attacked, and the dark energy told Kavan he was dealing with someone nasty. He wasn't going to hold back.
He slammed a fist into the cheek of the Zabrak, who stumbled away before raising his hand once more. Kavan braced himself for another Force attack. Lightning sparked at the Zabrak's fingertips, his eyes ablaze in the dark as he tapped into the Force. The Force lightning arced through the air at Kavan, who instinctively raised his arm to cover his face, throwing up a Force barrier in defense.
The crystal, still locked in his palm, drew the energy into itself and swallowed the lightning into its clear depths, and Kavan stared at it in surprise. It made sense, a focusing crystal imbued with The Force would have special traits.
But he didn't have time to ponder it, for the Zabrak now drew a crimson lightsaber. The glint of malice in his eyes made Kavan step back in fear more than the red blade he held, and then Kavan realized he was in trouble.
The Zabrak rushed at him, his wounds all but forgotten in his dark rage. He aimed to kill Kavan, to draw on his fear and energy upon death, to grow and heal his wounds.
The blade arced at Kavan, who fell into the Force and feinted left before dodged backwards, the blade carved through the air in front of him, missing him by inches. He ducked, and the blade cut a lock of his hair.
But then the Zabrak went down on the ground, the lightsaber dissipating into nothing as it toppled from his unconscious hand. A man wearing a long cape had dropped down from nowhere and landed on him.
The mystery figure drew a blaster and held it at the Zabrak's head.
He looked up at Kavan, who stumbled backwards uncertainly.
The man's cape was actually a long scarf that widened at his back. The front of the scarf concealed the lower half of the man's face. His left eye was scarred, a cybernetic implant eye glinted at Kavan.
"I've been following this one, thank you for giving me the chance to capture him. He killed a man earlier today, a Senator, in fact."
Kavan swallowed slowly, and said, "Uh...no...problem."
The man hefted up the Zabrak and turned away. As he walked away from Kavan he said simply, "I'll be following you now, too..."

[Trenton Vinh]

Jon Rohaeus was back in his X-Wing, sitting in the pilot's seat warming up the engines when he read the assignment he had been given.
The datachit contained information on a new prototype military vessel.

The Atropos had been originally designed to mine deep within high-gravity gas giants, and its armor had been developed by a team of military scientists. The Quantum-crystalline armor was nearly impenetrable, and enabled the small shuttle to withstand incredible forces. Its small size enabled the large engines to push it out of deep gravity wells, keeping the vessel from becoming trapped during mining.

The file contained the schematics, showing an odd looking ship. Nearly a perfect sphere, except the bottom housed the engines, so the ship appeared almost egglike. Its interior was sparse, and the top housed a retractable reinforced tube, allowing the harvested gasses to be transported up to an orbiting cargo ship.

The military had other plans for the Atropos, and it was Jon's assignment to ensure it arrived at the ShadowNet's Penumbra station safely. Four days from now, the Atropos would be leaving its Military base on Corellia, where it would be given a small
first flight ceremony before arriving in Coruscant space. From there, it would fly to Penumbra, dock, and the weapons experts could begin their work on it.

Jon shook his head slowly, frustrated.
Climbing from his ship, he stormed back to the Office of the Director. The doors were open, as if the Director had been expecting Jon to come back. Walking in uninvited, Jon noted Callius was facing away from the door. He announced himself by tossing the envelope containing his assignment on the desk. Director Reyan swiveled in his chair to face Jon and said cordially, "Vindicator Rohaeus, is there a problem with your assignment?"
Jon asked roughly, "Why am I being given this milk run escort mission? I was made a Vindicator because of my investigation into the Henrikson assassination! Why am I being taken off the case?"

Callius smiled broadly, his fingers meshed together, looking condescending.
"Jonathan, you are too quick to judge. Another Vindicator found your assassin today, a Zabrak we've identified as Devan Knorr. We are holding him in the brig until he is ready to be...interviewed."

Jon raised his eyebrows, he had seen Devan Knorr fall from a sixth-floor window, but the body had disappeared. To hear he had been captured alive was a surprise.
"You still haven't explained why I'm doing this escort run."
Callius stood, his elongated cranium made him taller than Jon. The Director said softly,
"Perhaps it is more closely related than you think...we will find out after we speak with Knorr..."

[Kael Serasai]

Kael paced back and forth in his quarters aboard the Penumbra, a piece of flimsi in one hand, an envelope in the other. He'd already given his mission briefing a quick once-over, but right now it wasn't the most important thing on his mind. The piece of flimsi, with the comm frequency, was stirring up questions, and he didn't know why he didn't just contact whoever it was and see why he'd been given their frequency.

Of course, there could be one person to whom it belonged... but that was impossible. Even after encountering the stranger in the alley on Coruscant, receiving a red ribbon identical to the one he'd been bequeathed by his Master, he refused to believe Caden Sturn was still alive.
Sitting on his bunk, he retrieved his comm and put in the frequency. His finger hovered over the 'send' button... and he hesitated a fraction of a second too long, enough for him to change his mind. He was chasing ghosts, he knew this much. Even if he'd convinced himself he wasn't allowing for the possibility that the mystery man was connected to Caden - or, infact, was Caden - he knew that a part of him did believe it.

He snapped his comm-link shut and slipped it back into his utility belt, then opened the envelope again and re-read the mission brief. It was short, and to the point.
'Investigate the Norulac-Taanab Waystation for connections to possible Sith activities. Report any findings with evidence'.
The fact that evidence had been highlighted as a prerequisite of the investigation's success told Kael that the higher-up's weren't going to trust his Force senses on this one. Even if they liked to consider themselves above such things, however, it was obvious that he'd only been chosen for this mission because of the possible Sith connection. Apparently, their ignorance of his Jedi training was selective.

Kael highly doubted he'd find anything on the Sith. Even with Jon's conviction that the Sith had been involved somehow in Henriksen and Rikter's deaths, he couldn't quite bring himself to accept that the Sith were still active. A small part of him asked 'but what if?', however his sensibilities tended to override that doubt.
Deciding he'd put it off for too long already, Kael travelled to the turbolift, which after a short trip, deposited him in the hangar. There awaited a BR-23 courier vessel, a ship so old it pre-dated the Galactic Empire. It was painted a rather drab mesh of brown and grey, and bore an unfamilliar insignia resembling a krayt dragon's head intersected with a rifle.
"Welcome to the Dragonshot, Captain Serasai" someone said, and Kael turned to see a familliar face; the scarred man he'd witnessed in the armament requisition section of the recreation hub.
"Captain?" he asked, nonplussed.
"And I'm your first mate" the man replied with a smirk. "Kramer. Vahn Kramer. The rest of the crew is around here somewhere..."
"No, no, no, I don't do group activities, I'm going this one alone" Kael said, shaking his head and marching in the direction of a shuttlecraft instead.
"Sorry, Serasai, but Director's orders. We're going in as a crew of pirates. Serves our cover better" Kramer insisted. Yeah... more like the good Director wants a few sets of eyes on me at all time, Kael thought bitterly to himself.
"I don't need..."
"No, maybe you don't need help, Jedi" Kramer said flatly. "But you're not going in there to tear the station apart, you're going in to investigate. What better way to do that than by making the scum onboard think you're one of them?"

Kael relented. This Kramer person, despite looking like a two-bit thug dredged up from the lower levels of Nal Hutta, actually had a point. Besides... if he decided at some point that he felt an overwhelming desire to disappear from view for a while, he was confident he could do it.
"Fine" he said, making sure there was enough defiance in his voice to show Kramer he wasn't happy about it. "When do we set off?"
"Well, I'm ready" Kramer said, patting his torso armour. "You better get into something more fitting though. The Director said there'd be something onboard. Soon as you're done, and we've done a head-count on the rest of the crew, we're good to go".
"Fantastic" Kael muttered, walking past the big mercenary and boarding the courier. Instantly he was hit with an overwhelming aroma of stale sweat and oil; if it wasn't authentic, then ShadowNet had really gone the extra mile when making this thing as real as possible.
Stacked against a bulkhead was a set of rustic looking armour, all in brown and grey to match the ship. Checking there was nobody around, he unbuckled his slacks and climbed into the unfamilliar armoured pants he'd been provided. The material chafed his legs almost right away, and the armour plates felt like they were weighing the pants down more than anything else. It was as authentic as possible; cheaply made, scratched and worn. Kael doubted ShadowNet had his comfort in mind when requisitioning it.
Sighing heavily, he removed his hooded tunic, and pulled the tight armourweave vest on... and almost jumped out of his skin when he emerged from inside the vest to see a Dug staring at him with a wrench in his forelimb.
"What the..."
"Jeedai make easy scared, no?" the Dug chuckled, then padded away to continue whatever work he'd been doing. Kael rolled his eyes, and fastened on his composite-plate torso armour, followed by his weapons harness, and a ragged brown-and-slate camouflage poncho to hide it all.

He emerged from the vessel, and turned on the spot. Kramer observed him, stubbly chin cupped in his hand.
"Hmm... a little bit weedy for a pirate..."
"I feel like a kid playing dress-up" Kael growled, reaching to tear off the poncho.
"No, no... it's fine. You'll find most pirate captain's are the smallest of their crew" he said, grinning broadly in a manner which didn't quite suit his predatory face. "The brains rule the brawn in that society" he said with a wink, tapping his head.
"Fine, whatever... hey, who's the Dug?" Kael asked, gesturing behind him into the ship.
"Vilo? He's our mechanic. Speaks around two-hundred different languages, too, so he'll come in handy".
"Two-hundred?" Kael asked, disbelievingly. "Maybe he should put more effort into Galactic Basic".
"Yeah" Kramer agreed, ascending the ramp to join Kael. "Somehow he can never get his head around that one. Says that of all the languages he's studied, Basic is the most complex and least pleasing".
"Huh" Kael muttered. "Well, if he's as good as he says he is..."
"He's good" Kramer winked. The pair headed into the ship, and found the rest of the crew waiting in the galley.

"Everyone, this is Vindicator Kael Serasai. He's the head operative on this mission, so whatever he says goes" Kramer said, by way of introduction.
"Pleasure" said the Lethan Twi'lek female watching Kael from behind a dejarik board. She was beautiful, but didn't seem to want to be. Her lekku curled protectively around her neck, and she wore no make-up. One of her eyes was obscured by an optical enhancement headset, and the way she sat was decidedly un-ladylike. "Name's Lana. Lana Velosa".
"Lana's our navigation expert. She can plot a course from here to almost anywhere without the aid of an automated navicomputer" Kramer explained. "Careful though... get her angry, and she'll remember it for a long time, then before you know it she's sending you right into the heart of a sun, or..."
"That was a long time ago, Kramer" Lana interrupted. "And the rot-worm deserved all he got". Kael noticed Lana rub her shoulder, bared by the vest top she wore, and for the first time he saw the horrible burn scar extending all the way down to her left wrist.

"Snivik Pree'cha" said another voice from behind Kael, this one gruff. He turned, and looked down, to see a Bothan standing in a flightsuit with his arms behind his back.
"Let me guess... tactical officer? Comms tech?" Kael asked.
"Gunner" Snivik replied, as if offended. "Not all Bothans are interested in monitoring things and offering advice".
"Of course... my apologies" Kael said, sincerely.
"This is all of us" Kramer said, gesturing around the galley. Vilo the Dug plodded in, removing a welding mask and hopping onto the stool opposite Lana. They began a fast-paced game of Dejarik, both seemingly well versed in its rules and tactica.
"Okay... so we're all set?" Kael asked. Nobody seemed interested in replying. He looked to Kramer for help, but the larger man shrugged and turned his back.
"Get to your stations now! I want status and pre-flight checks in five minutes maximum!" Kael yelled, and everyone snapped to attention and began setting about securing the vessel for flight.
"Much better" Kramer said from behind him, and Kael couldn't resist a chuckle. With little else to do, he moved to the cockpit and took his place at the helm. His thoughts wandered to Jon, and what the other man might be doing. No doubt escorting some high-priority Senator against pirate raiders, or dogfighting with errant separatists at the fringes of the system.
"Pre-flight completed" Lana said, jostling past Kramer to get into the cockpit. "Do we have the co-ords?"
"Here" Kael said, presenting his datapad. It contained the co-ordinates from the solar sailor he and Jon had investigated during their hunt for Henriksen's real killer.
"Then we're good to go" Kramer murmered, taking the co-pilots position. "We've got your back, kid".
I'm sure you do, Kael thought to himself, as he lifted the courier from the deck and ventured into space.

[Kael Serasai]

The courier docked in the shielded expanse which served as Stars' End spacestation's starboard hangar. Already other larger vessels were docked at various rings around the bay itself, but inside, the hangar was teeming with vessels, from small snubfighters to stock freighters of all classification and design.
"Welcome to Stars' End" Kramer said, gesturing outside the viewport. Vilo the Dug sniggered from behind him, and hopped from his passenger seat, hobbling away on stiff, muscular arms to gather whatever tools he thought he'd need.
"I don't like it" Lana murmered, her arms folded across her chest. "I was expecting something less... well..."
"Less impressive" Kael finished, gazing out of the viewport. Even the hangar was lavished with expensive decor and top-of-the-range technology, from holoboards which would rival those on Coruscant, to gleaming greeter droids which escorted newly arrived pilots from their ships to the various doors located at intervals around the hangar wall.

"This is a pirate hangout?" Kael asked, finally tearing himself away from the view, as though the bustling activity beyond had somehow been hypnotising him.
"Officially, it's a leisure complex for the priveleged and free" Kramer smirked. "Which translates to 'a pleasure house for rich pirates'. Not all of 'em like living in squalor, y'know?"
"I see..." Kael murmered, though he really didn't. How something like this could remain off the G.A radar was astounding. Kramer seemed to read his thoughts.
"Out here on the fringes of the Norulac system, the Galactic Alliance isn't recognised" he explained, unbuckling his crash webbing and rising. "It's one of the safer havens for pirates in the galaxy, and definately the closest to the Core. G.A officials decided to leave the system to it's own business, and so Stars' End continues operating unchecked. Kinda worrying, knowing there's this many pirates here in the Inner Rim, right?"
"Right" Kael agreed, also rising and making his way aft.
"I still don't like it" Lana complained sullenly, following the pair.

*

When the BD-3000 droid had met them at the boarding ramp and asked their destination, Kramer had seemed to know where they needed to be; more and more, Kael wondered what he'd been before joining ShadowNet. Perhaps a mercenary. Maybe a pirate. Somehow, he doubted he'd ever find out.
"The cantina" Kramer had said to the droid, which dutifully turned - Kael could have sworn it winked at him - and led them away with swaying hips and one hand held upright and limp, in a disturbing approximation of a lady of leisure.
"The cantina?" Kael asked in a whisper to Kramer, dubiously.
"Trust me" Kramer replied with a sly grin.

The droid led them, eventually, to a circular plaza twelve floors above the hangar, dominated by a carved pillar, which was illuminated with violet lights, seeming to pulsate with living energy which webbed along the ceiling and to the extravagant doorways of several areas branching from the hub. One of them was marked, in Basic, High Galactic and Huttese, as 'The Cantina'. With an air of trepidation, Kael followed the others inside, and all of his senses were assailed at once.
The finely-wrought glass-and-gold doors must have been soundproofed, because as soon as they opened, a barrage of loud music washed out into the plaza, quickly followed by a hundred different smells; food, alcohol, smoke, incence... it was hard to distinguish them.
Walking up the shallow stairwell into the cantina itself, Kael realised it was far from any cantina he'd ever found himself in. It was more of a nightclub, albeit lacking a dancefloor. The entire area could fit at least ten of the small, cramped cantina's one usually found on Tatooine or Lok.

"Now this is what a cantina should look like" Lana said, approvingly, the first time she'd shown any positive outlook since arriving at Stars' End.
"It's all a bit much" Snivik sniffed, folding his arms gingerly across his slight frame, his fine hairs bristling with discomfort. It was the first time Kael had heard him speak at all since leaving Penumbra. "How are we ever supposed to pump someone for information with all this noise?"
"I think the pumping will have to wait until afterwards" Kramer said, following the BD-3000 to a free table. The group sat, and Kael instantly noticed the buffet sprawl nearby.
"Nourishment and beverages are all provided free of charge" the BD-3000 said with a disturbing mechanical curtsey.
"Now that sounds too good to be true" Kael laughed, glancing at his colleagues who smirked and shook their heads. "Go on lads - and lady, of course" he added, remembering Lana's objections to being overlooked. "Fill your hides while you got the chance". His colleagues looked more enthusiastic this time, falling into their roles as his crew rather than his minders.

"Tell your boss, whoever he is, he has the gratitude of Captain Serasai" Kael said to the droid, unsure how to get rid of her at this point. No other group in the place seemed to have their droid escorts still by their side.
"Compliments of Barapha the Hutt" the droid bowed, then turned and walked away. Suddenly Kael was on his feet, the droids arm in his grasp, whirling it around. To the credit of it's designers, the droid managed to both look and sound offended.
"Get your hand off my chromework, you..."
"What did you say?" Kael asked through gritted teeth. "Who's your boss?"
"Barapha the Hutt, sir. And if you don't remove your grubby digits from my freshly-polished appendage, you'll find yourself begging for her mercy".
Kael released the droid, just as the music dipped, and was replaced by the sound of live brass instruments backing a male announcer, who had just taken to the raised stage area opposite the main embankment of bars.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and all those beings inbetween, please welcome your most esteemed host, the glorious, the nefarious... Barapha the Hutt!"

An illuminated pair of doors parted like the opening of two flower petals, washing the club in pale lavendar light and smoke. Kael gagged; the familliar scent of incence flooded over him, bringing with it many unwelcome memories. Out of the fog came a bulging, quivering mass of flesh, it's tiny arms raised and lipless maw opened wide in what was supposed to be jubilation, but looked to Kael like the maw that would suck the universe dry if it wasn't plugged.
She was borne upon a large dais, which was carried by her multitudes of slaves, male and female, all naked save for a golden security device obscuring their extremities. That, Kael knew, was where the money was at for Barapha. People could look at her slaves, touch their supple flesh, for hours on end. But to get the key to one of those metal chastity devices... one had to be rich, and very much in favour with the disgusting Hutt.
Behind the dais, two more slaves walked, tethered to her and wafting her with giant golden leaves which glittered in the flickering club lights.
"Barapha, the Hutt that runs this station" Kramer supplied helpfully; and needlessly. Kael knew her all too well. "She's as fluent in Basic as she is in Huttese, so we'll have an easy time communicating with her".
"Sorry... communicating? With her?" Kael asked incredulously. "You think we have a chance with a Hutt?"
"Barapha is a dealer in information. And nobody gets on or off this station without her knowing about it" Kramer reasoned. "If anyone has info on Knorr's dealings, it's her".

"I don't like this" Kael grumbled, sinking back into his seat, keeping his eyes on the Hutt as she made her grand entrance, enrapturing her audience fully.
"Told you so" Lana said, raising her eyebrow at him.

[Kael Serasai]

Kael walked slowly into Barapha's private chamber, escorted by a pair of scantily-clad slaves and a Kaleesh bounty hunter in heavy bone-armour. He'd had encounters with the Kaleesh before; Egravian, his name was. Kael didn't know if he worked exclusively for Barapha, but he'd never seen the Hutt without her Kaleesh bodyguard.
"Leave the head-tail outside" Barapha gestured at the doors, where Lana was attempting to follow. A pair of Nikto barred her entry, and she sullenly returned to the club, to join Kramer, Snivik and Vilo in gleaning what they could from talkative drunk pirates. "I can't abide those filthy creatures" Barapha said in her sly, thoughtful voice. "Lekku?". The Hutt gestured at a table adorned as if for a banquet; at the centre was a platter of severed, roasted lekku. A delicacy among her court.
"No thanks" Kael said sourly. Barapha hefted herself onto a giant flowery dais, and clapped at two of her slaves.
"Show our guest here some... appreciation" she ordered with a wink at Kael. The two women approached him, but he waved them off immediately.
"Not to your taste?" Barapha asked, refilling the water jar of her hookah pipe. "Perhaps something a little more..."
"Can we cut to the chase?" Kael asked impatiently, before the male slaves could even begin to move. "Give them the night off" he added, nodding at the congregation of slaves.
"Hmm... if it makes your mood more pliable" Barapha agreed, cocking her bulbous head back, indicating the slaves should retire for the night. "To business, then".

Kael shifted uncomfortably, the sickly scent of incence and Barapha's perfume washing over him. The Hutt's great body shifted into a better position, and her jewels jangled around her neck. She held out a hand to him, encrusted in gemmed rings. He took it as a sign to lay his business before her.
"I'm looking for information on someone, a former patron of yours".
"I have thousands of patrons" Barapha replied lazily.
"This one is distinctive" Kael shot back.
"Why should I help you?" Barapha asked, glancing at him inquisitively, her yellow eyes contrasting with her violet skin. She took another draw from her pipe, then shovelled a wriggling dwarf nuna into her lipless maw.
"You owe me" Kael said, edging the anger out of his tone. There was a lot of bad blood between himself and the Hutt; in a way, both were lucky they had been gracious enough to let the other live.
"Still hung-up over that slave business?" Barapha tutted. "I'd thought you'd have gotten over that when I let you go".
"I had to escape!" Kael said heatedly, approaching the Hutt. Egravian the Kaleesh was barring his way in an instant, hand on the butt of his rifle. Barapha simply laughed.
"I let you go, but only because you blew up half of my den on the way out. You say escape, I say release. Is there a difference?"
"I didn't come here to reminisce, Barapha" Kael growled, backing down. He didn't want this to turn into a brawl; he wasn't even sure he'd win against the Kaleesh bounty hunter.
"No, no, you're quite right. This... patron of yours. Do you have a description? A holo?"
"He's a Zabrak. I have a hologram here..." Kael began, but Barapha interrupted with a coughing fit, expelling a cloud of smoke around her voluminous form and dropping her pipe. When she'd recovered herself, she let out a hoarse laugh.
"I know the barve" she admitted. "Not many Zabrak on the loose these days. At least not in my territory".
"So you know what his business was here?" Kael pressed. He approached the dais, and this time Egravian didn't prevent him.
"No" Barapha said, flippantly. "I do not".
"Barapha... don't be lying to me" Kael warned.
"Kael, Kael... would I lie to you? Besides, why lie when the truth is a far more profitable commodity" she winked, rubbing her pudgy little hands together. "I do not know because I haven't gotten around to studying those particular snippets of holocam footage yet. That doesn't mean I don't have them to hand".

Kael was stood on the dais now, face to face with the Hutt. She was impossible to read through the Force, but at this proximity, he'd be able to see it in her eyes whether or not she was lying. She wasn't.
"And you'll let me just... walk away with said footage?" he asked, dubiously.
"Ah... now we're talking true business. As you know, dear Kael, I don't operate a charity" Barapha chuckled. "Nuna?"
"No" Kael shuddered, waving away her offered morsel, which still kicked and squeeled in her hand. "I have an inexhaustible supply of credits with which to purchase this information from you. I think you'll find..."
"I think ShadowNet's credits are no good to me, I have plenty of money already" Barapha cut him off, dropping the nuna into her gullet. Kael stared at her incredulously. "As I said, Kael, the truth is a far more profitable commodity. Your little lie was worthless in the end, wasn't it, Captain Serasai?" she laughed. Kael had to admit, the whole pirate disguise had been pointless once he'd discovered who was running this little show. He'd abandoned all pretense at that moment, and simply approached her for an audience, one she'd been all too glad to receive.
"What do you want, Barapha?" he asked. The Hutt was far more informed than he'd realised.
"I give you the datadisks containing footage of every second that creepy barve spent on this station, and you walk away" she said, taking up her pipe again, inhaling deeply.
"And...?"
"And that's it. Do what you will with the information, but remember who gave it to you" Barapha said, winking once more. "And when that informant sends forth a reasonable request... be generous in receiving and fulfilling it".
"So you like the idea of me owing you a favour?" Kael spat. Egravian tensed behind him; Kael heard the rustle of his blaster against the bone of his armour.
"It's nothing personal, Kael. It's just good business. I give you what you need, for whatever reason you need it... and in return, I get the favour of a ShadowNet operative" Barapha smiled. "Or is it Vindicator? Whichever you prefer..."

Kael thought about it for a moment. The Director wouldn't like it; but then, Kael didn't care for the Director's approval. He wanted whatever Barapha could give him, if it meant drawing closer to the closure of the case. Even if it turned out that Knorr had simply used this place as a watering hole between jobs, it at least narrowed down the investigation somewhat.
"I see that thoughtful twinkle in your eye, Kael" Barapha said softly, craning her head as best she could to look at him. "Hookah?"
"Deal" Kael said. He even accepted her hookah pipe, and took a draw from it, much to Barapha's delight.
"Oh Kael, I knew you were a man of few scruples. Somehow I thought you'd come here to settle a score, not enter a profitable venture with yours truly". The Hutt bowed her head, her feathered tiara almost swatting Kael in the face. "And no Jedi platitudes, please. I know, here, in your heart, you wanted to disentegrate me the moment we met again" she grinned, prodding him in the chest, over his heart.
"Perhaps" Kael agreed. "But since you had Egravian here under orders to disentegrate me the moment things got tense, I doubt I'd have gotten far, would I?"

Barapha leered at him slyly again, then dispatched one of her Nikto guards to retrieve the necessary data files, so that Kael could be on his way.