Things are moving forward. I did really debate about how to handle Jonas in this, but I kept coming back to how he was handled in the last chapter. I never thought of Kit keeping anyone safe, but you do make a very valid point, she will keep Jonas from getting to hurt. As for the ally you will have to wait and see.

Elara as a spy is still making me giggle. That will probably not get written but still it amuses me.

Background information on an Imperial NPC on Belsavis, the one I have been using and now I have built on it. Plus some ramifications from the Agents Act 1 decisions.(To be honest I don't remember what those are but since they were in the spoiler notes, I am putting them in.

Year 3634 Month 6

She stood before him arms casually crossed, eyes intently watching him. Taking a deep breath he slowly eased his aching body off the cot, stiff muscles screaming their protest after being inactive for so long. The durasteel was cool beneath his bare feet. Briefly closing his eyes he grasped the edge of the cot in his shackled hands, opening them he pushed his weight off the bed.

Cautiously he moved towards her, warily watching her. He was still expecting the other shoe to drop; it had to. Were they really going to explain to him what was going on? Maybe, but the bigger question hung over his head, what was going to happen to him when learned the truth? Were they simply going to let him go? He was Intelligence, he did have a duty and a responsibility to the Republic, this situation was not something you could ignore. It was one thing to look the other way when he had learned Aric was dating an Imp, she was nice, Aric was happy and he had thought she was a civilian, but now, he couldn’t, not in good conscience, just ignore something like this. So why are they telling him? What could it possibly be? She had not demanded his silence or cooperation, only asked about his friendship with Aric. What was going on, what could it be? It was unspoken but he felt he was to keep what he was about to learn to himself. Unless it was something he didn't want to actually share... “It is bad isn't it?”

She nodded, “It is and very... complicated.” She gestured through the open door.

He exhaled a shaky breath, as he moved past her into the corridor. She stepped beside him and he flinched. She leaned over resting hand on his arm, “Agent Balker I do not wish to harm you, considering the circumstances you have been treated rather fairly.”

He looked over at her lifting his shackled wrists.

“You did hold a blaster to the back of Vette's head, bruise up her and trespass on my ship. I would be a fool to allow you free rein.”

He frowned but nodded, he could not argue with that.

“This way,” her hand disappeared and she moved away from him, stepping out into the common area. Biting his lower lip he followed.

Before him was the lounge, brightly illuminated, it looked more mundane with the lights on. He glanced around the room, Vette and that massive Lieutenant were sitting on the couches looking at a datapad, he didn’t see Aric. Slowly edging forward he tried to catch a glimpse of the bridge, he wanted to know where he was, where the ship finally dropped out of hyperspace.

A snarling yell pulled his attention to the other side of the ship. A loud inaudible string of cuss words echoed down the hall. In front of him the massive Lieutenant called out, “You okay mate?” There was a muffled response. “I'll go see.” Jonas watched the huge solder stand and hurry down the hall.

Kit looked to Vette, “Do you want to stay for this?”

The Twi'lek screwed up her face, “Not really it was unpleasant enough the first time.”

“I understand, you can go see if the boys are okay.”

“Thanks,” she chirped, bolting off the couch, datapad in hand.

Jonas jumped when she laid her hand on his arm. “This way please.” She moved to the large holoterminal, looking over her shoulder, she beckoned him forward. Taking a deep breath he moved to stand next to her.

Wordlessly she bent forward, fingers deftly depressing keys; she straightened crossing her arms before her as a coloured projection materialized. A ragged scream poured out of the speakers and Jonas gasped, he recognized Aric's voice, he was in pain. The camera began moving, he realized from the height of the recording it had to be the armor cam feed from the Lieutenant.

A rundown lobby came into view and the recording paused. “Do you know where this is?” Kit's voice was calm but cold.

He nodded, “I have seen it, at one time it was a safe house. Not any longer, lost it in a dispute with a Hutt.” It was the truth, nothing incriminating, also nothing that could not be discovered by any mediocre slicer.

She nodded and the playback resumed. The pain filled screaming again assaulted his ears. Jonas shivered, it sounded like he was being tortured. As he watched the playback, eyes searching the tape making note of where they were in the old rundown warehouse, he heard the Lieutenant and Kit. She was complaining that Jedi were idiots, that the Jedi had him. That struck Jonas as odd, why would Jedi torture someone, wouldn't they just take them to the Council? The playback stopped in front of a rusty door. Brief words were exchanged before Kit and her crew opened the door.

Jonas sucked in a surprised gasp, there before him was Aric chained to a chair. Sitting next to him in a backwards-facing chair was Agent Mordon. Jonas didn't recognize the man Mordon was talking to. The screams had faded, allowing the conversation to be heard with amazing clarity.

“I wonder why he has not defected yet?” Agent Mordon moved in his chair looking at the man who was gripping Aric's bloody head in his hands. Judging from the man’s attire he was Jedi, what was he doing to Aric?

Kit's voice rang out, “Because for some unfathomable reason he like the Republic.”

The recording paused, next to him Kit spoke, her voice achingly cold. “Who are those men, do you know them?”

Jonas swallowed, hard, now would be a very bad time to lie. Turning to look at Kit he flinched, her eyes were a different colour, somewhere between green and yellow. It was pretty but very unnerving. “I do.”

“Who is he?”

Jonas swore the room’s temperature dropped. He looked back to the paused playback, he really shouldn't say but seeing Aric there chained in that condition, it enraged him. Why was he even there? Why did the Service target him? Why had he not heard about it? Jonas licked his arid lips, “That is Agent Mordon.”

“He with the S.I.S.?”

Jonas nodded, “He is. He disappeared roughly six months ago. I heard he was on a routine surveillance op when we went M.I.A.”

“Is that all? Do you know the nature of the case he was surveying?”

Jonas shook his head, “No I don't, we never worked together, we were just based out of the same office.”

“Do you know the identity of the Jedi? Did this Agent Mordon have any know associations with Jedi?”

“No I have no idea who that man is, if Agent Mordon knew any Jedi he kept it to himself.”

The playback resumed. He watched the unknown Jedi lift into the air, clawing at his throat. Then his body was flying across the room away from Aric. He heard a muffled thud that was drowned out by the sounds of sabers igniting, followed by Kit's voice apologising. Jonas looked at Aric his face was a bloody mess, his eye was split open, dried blood matted most of the fur on his face. Jonas sucked in a sharp intake of air, “Oh frack,” he muttered under his breath.

Then Aric opened his eyes, they were glowing and blue, his shoulders were covered in a faint sparking light. When he spoke his voice was ragged but Jonas understood every word. “Kill. Them. All. My Mate.”

Jonas heard the smile in Kit's voice as she answered and flew across the room, saber sinking into Mordon's chest. Jonas shuddered as he watched the saber leave Mordon's chest, a look of surprise permanently etched on his lifeless face. The erupting sounds of combat disappeared as she paused the playback.

“You don't want to watch this do you?”

Wrenching his eyes away from the paused holoimage of Kit engaging nameless troopers, blaster fire arching into the squad standing behind Aric, and the Jedi running to engage the unknown woman fighting alongside Kit, he looked over at her, “Do any of them live?”

She simply shook her head no.

Jonas' shoulders slumped, hearing they were all killed was not a surprise. When the Agent had gone missing it was whispered he was K.I.A. Jonas was surprised there were so many others involved, their disappearance was never even mentioned. It was strange, what were they working on?

“Do you know anything?” She gestured to the frozen image.

He shook his head no, “I don't, I never worked with him. Why were they questioning Aric?”

“Because of me, someone figured out we were together. They beat him, tortured him, he was the bait to try to kill me. Someone figured out who I was and tried to exploit our relationship.”

Jonas looked at her, she stood there arms crossed, her lips pressed in a thin angry line, but she was shaking, her expression unreadable. “I never heard of an investigation into Aric, whoever found out kept it under lock and key. Kit what happened to him? What did that Jedi do to him?”

Her eyes broke contact, he followed her gaze, there standing in the open doorway was Aric. He gave her a curt nod. She sighed, “That is why we need your help, for all of my extensive resources, I am unable to get the answers we need.” She turned to face Jonas, “That Jedi broke something that had been in place for decades.”

A chiming erupted from the holocom, frowning Kit turned to look at the caller, “Kark, I swear he was the worst possible timing.” She motioned across the room, Aric growled but he came to stand beside her. The chiming returned, persistent. She looked at Jonas, “I need you to stand over there, out of sight.” She gestured to the open doorway where Aric had been standing. “Please don't do anything stupid, trust me, you won't want to draw attention to yourself.”

“Who is it?” Jonas looked to the holocom and the incoming call's identification, he didn't recognize it.

“Please,” Kit gestured again. “I do have to take this, unless you would rather go back and wait on the cot?”

Jonas shook his head, begrudgingly moving to the doorway. He stood on the threshold, taking a peak into the room. It was a bedroom, with a large bed made up with black bedding and plush pillows, it looked really comfortable. Brightly painted landscapes shared wall space with red Imperial banners. He was looking over the contents on the bookshelves when a mechanized voice rolled out of the holocom.

“Wrath good to see you.”

Jonas turned around, before him was a large man encased in armor, a red hood draped over his helmet, spikes adorned his shoulders. Jonas shuddered, he recognized the man, he was known as the Masked Dark Council member, the one who had pushed back Republic offenses on Korriban and later Zoist. He remembered his parents talking about it, in hushed tones when they thought he was in bed. He once snuck onto the HoloNet to learn more about him when he was supposed to be doing his chores, what he had read terrified him and for months afterward the hooded masked man had haunted his nightmares.

The Councilor nodded to Aric, “Your Grace, I trust you are well?”

Jonas brow furrowed, that was unusual.

“Darth Marr, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Kit answered. Aric stood silent by her side.

“I just wanted to confirm your attendance at our next meeting. That there is nothing … distracting you.”

Jonas could have sworn he heard laughter in the metallic voice.

“So touching, Marr, It is still unexpected to receive such personal attention from you.” Kit shifted her weight, canting her hip as she crossed her arms, radiating annoyance.

The projected man chuckled, “Such a surly reception, Wrath. My offer still stands.”

Kit dropped her arms, sighing. “The offer is appreciated. I take it there is a reason my physical presence is needed?”

Marr's blued image nodded, “There has been a development, one that is rather... unwanted. You will agree with me, considering your love of Intelligence.”

Kit's eyebrow rose, “What happened Marr?”

“Your figurehead's father has returned. She has been putting up quite the fight, contesting his demand to return the Sphere to him.”

“He will not sit on the Council again,” Kit growled.

Marr laughed, it chilled Jonas to his core. “I knew we would be in agreement. This matter will be settled when we next convene.” Marr's head moved to regard Aric. “Will your mate be in attendance?”

Kit frowned, “He is not a Council member, why would he be in attendance? We don't have show-and-tells days.”

Marr laughed, “See you in two days Wrath.”

“I will be there,” Kit raised her hand and the projected form blinked out of existence.

Beside her Aric growled, “won't that annoy him?”

Kit shrugged, “I am allowed to annoy him.”

“Do you wish me to go with you to Korriban?”

She shook her head, “No you don't have to. You can stay at the Estate.”

Aric nodded and then he looked across the room at Jonas. Jonas looked at him, locking eyes with Aric, the Cathar looked totally nonplussed as if a call like that was commonplace. A cold chill crept down his back, settling in his stomach. His skin pr.i.ckled as he watch the two before him. Oh he really should have left things alone. The more he learned, the more he regretted walking into that hanger.

A tremor coursed down his back, following a chilling drop of sweat. Silence descended on the room, the entire ship was still as if it was waiting for his reaction. Taking a shaky breath he asked the only thing that seemed safe, he was unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, “Who was he calling 'Your Grace’?” Jonas did not want to know any more about Darth Marr or Kit's relationship with him, the fact she was also a Dark Council member shocked him. The more he knew the more he was going to have to tell, it was best not to ask any questions.

Kit hesitated, looking at Aric. The Cathar gestured towards the room, “I will tell you, go.”

Jonas watched Kit lay a hand on Aric's arm, his head tilted towards her. He smiled at her whispering words Jonas couldn't hear. Then she dropped her arm and Aric crossed the room.

Pausing at the threshold, Aric motioned for Jonas to follow him inside. Jonas looked back over his shoulder, the room was empty, the holoterminal dormant. Biting his lip he followed Aric into the bedroom.

“Have a seat.”

Jonas looked around the room, staring at the saber hilts and tomes on the bookshelves, the black bed and red banners. Where was he supposed to sit? He shouldn’t be in here. He looked up at the Cathar, his expression was unreadable, just foreign blue-violet eyes set in a well known face.

Aric stepped closer, “It's okay.”

Jonas looked again around the room; a tremor grew in his hands. Where was he supposed to sit? What was Aric going to say to him? He was still shackled, he was still a prisoner and a very large scary Sith just contacted the ship. He called to confirm Kit was headed to Korriban. Korriban. Kit was headed to Korriban, was he going to have to go to? He didn't want to go to Korriban.

“Jonas.”

He jumped hearing his name, he turned to look at Aric, he was standing closer. He could reach out and touch the Cathar if he wanted to. Aric took another step closer; those foreign blue eyes intently staring at him. “I won't hurt you, I am sorry, I am,” Aric chewed on his lip. “I, I overreacted back there in the cargo bay.” The Cathar shifted on his feet. “I'm sorry. I won't hurt you. I overreacted…” Aric trailed off watching him.

“I am sorry, I am really sorry, about back there,” Aric whispered, his voice barely audible. “I honestly thought, I really thought you were sneaking on here to hurt me to finish what they started. Were you really just looking for me?”

“Yes,” Jonas numbly nodded, “I was worried about you. I was worried, no one knew where you were. No one.”

“I'm sorry I overreacted, I shouldn't have acted like that, I just,” he sighed shoulders slumping, “I just have a hard time controlling my temper, not being so emotional,” he ran clawed fingers through his mane. “Honestly the thought never crossed my mind that you were worried about me. When you walked onto the ship and I remembered who you were; I saw you were hurting Vette. I felt it, and I just focused on the fact you are in the S.I.S.” I am sorry Jonas, so many people have been trying to hurt me, that the thought never occurred to me that you were worried enough to come look for me.”

“I am so sorry Jonas.” The Cathar took a deep breath, “Please,” he whispered, his voice was softer, “please have a seat, the bed is soft. We don't have a couch in here, just the chair and the bed. The bed is pretty soft.”

“The bed,” Jonas murmured his eyes flicking to the large bed. Should he really sit on that bed, it belonged to Sith, to a Dark Council member.

“It's okay, it is. This is my room too, and it’s my bed as well. Please have a seat.”

Numbly Jonas nodded, crossing the room to sit stiffly on the edge of the bed. He watched Aric as the Cathar stripped off the black robe, neatly folding it over his arm before placing it on a nearby chair. Then he slowly moved his hand to his belt, removing the saber that hung there. Gently he placed the weapon on top of the robe. Aric sat down next to him on his right, clad in dark grey clothes. As Jonas looked he realized they were military fatigues, the shoulder carrying the faded outline of Special Forces, the patch that resided there, removed.

“Why did you do that?” Jonas looked at the chair.

Aric frowned, “Well you are pretty freaked out, and I understand. Thought it might be smart to take them off while we talked.”

“It is hard to accept.” Jonas whispered.

Aric nodded, “It is. I still have a hard time accepting it.” He took a deep breath, “So what do you want to know?” He pushed his shirtsleeves up to his elbows before rubbing his face with his left hand.

Jonas just watched the movement, his hands reaching out before he could stop himself. He touched Aric's left wrist. An angry band of fur-less hide encircled the joint. Running along the top of his hand was a bright yellow slip of fur-less skin; Jonas' shaking fingers traced it to where it ended in a yellow claw. Cautiously he reversed direction tracing the odd yellow strip. There were more of them, seemingly placed at random running the length of Aric's arm. “Aric what is this?”

“That is from a rather potent dose of Force lightening.”

“What... how did that happen?”

Aric sighed; his voice grew quiet. “A very horrible fight, I don't want to talk about it.”

“Oh,” Jonas dropped his hands, placing them in his lap. “I am sorry. Can I ask what happened to your wrist?”

“Yes,” Aric nodded, holding up his right wrist giving him a good view of both scarred joints. “That was my parting gift, given to me by the Republic. They had me chained so tightly to that chair, that this happened.” Aric put his hands down, “Did you really have no idea that happened? What you just saw in the warehouse?”

“No,” Jonas shook his head, “I had no idea, I was looking for you. I have been for months. I...” Jonas sighed, “I was worried about you. The things people are saying about you, it is not pleasant Aric.”

Aric gave him an unplaceable look, “Who is saying it?”

“Mostly the Major, but then Zane heard you were AWOL. He started in too.”

Aric snorted, “That's a tainted source. I didn't go AWOL. Two weeks before I was... before the incident in the warehouse, I had submitted a request to go into early retirement, citing physical and emotional reasons. My current enlistment was up, I could either renew my contract or try to op out early. I wanted to retire and live out the rest of my life away from the fighting. I had two weeks left and I was out of the military for good. I just wanted to live my life with Kit'ar.” The Cathar sighed heavily rubbing his face, “I still just want to live my life with her.”

“That is why they grabbed you, they must of found out you were leaving the military. Their window of opportunity was closing. Do you remember what they asked you?”

Aric stifled a bitter laugh, “Yes, they only wanted information on Kit. Of course I didn't give it.”

“What was that Jedi doing to you?” Jonas knew the standard operating procedure for questioning targets, it wasn’t pleasant, but the involvement of a Jedi was unorthodox.

“He hurt me, broke something that had been in place for decades. I was in a tank for weeks, recovering. Of all the injuries they caused the amnesia was the worst, being in that kind of pain dealing with this damned Force sensitivity and having no memory, it was hell.”

Jonas looked over at Aric as he sat next to him, slumped over rubbing his face. The air around him seemed to be sparking. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, gathering his nerves. “What exactly was broken?” Jonas whispered as his eyes reopened.

Aric slumped further, his chin touching his chest. He cradled his head in his hands; his voice was barely a whisper. “I believe it was the Jedi Council, when I was roughly ten. I used to be in training there, on Tython before my Mother brought me home. She was unhappy with how I was being treated and our family had a very rocky relationship with the Order to begin with. I still don’t know why it happened, why they did what they did to a ten year old kit.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping further; Aric seemed to melt before him. With a shaky exhaled breath the Cathar continued, “My Mother took me home to Cathar, she even made sure I had a sparring partner close to my age. Things were going so well, I really enjoyed learning at home.”

“I don’t understand, what did the Jedi do? Why would they care if you went home?”

Aric looked at Jonas over his fingers, his blue eyes glowing. Jonas shivered unconsciously shrinking away. “I don't know why they did it, I want to know why it happened. They blocked my connection and brainwashed me so I forgot all about Tython and who I really was.”

“What... Jedi wouldn't do something like that, would they?”

Aric nodded, “They did, they do.”

“But why? I don't...” Jonas stared at Aric, “I don't understand.”

Aric frowned, “We think there was a couple reasons behind it, one was political the other is because of my little gift.”

Jonas swallowed a sigh of frustration, Aric was making him draw this out of him one question at a time. “Aric when do Jedi get involved with politics? Why target you? You don't have any political value do you?”

Aric looked at him, the sadness in his eyes overwhelming. “I do. I have political value. The Jedi became involved because of what I can do. I can manipulate emotions Jonas, not only mine but ones that belong to others, the way others can manipulate the Force. I don't just use them to amplify my connection, to strengthen my grasp on the Force, they are my connection.”

Jonas straightened, his blue eyes widening, “But Jedi are against using emotions, everyone knows they preach detachment.”

“Yes,” Aric nodded, “but things were going so well, diplomatic relations were progressing so smoothly. I remember that, I remember the diplomat who lived with us.”

“By the Ninth Corellian Hell,” Jonas gasped, “Cathar was in negotiations with the Empire. I remember my parents talking about it when I was little. I think I was around nine. They were so worried about anyone becoming allies with the Empire and then one day they just stopped, it was no longer on the HoloNet, it just disappeared and my parents talked of something else. Your family was involved in the negotiations...”

“Yes,” Aric nodded, “they were. That is what the Jedi broke when he was digging in my head; he broke the brainwashing that had been in place. They made me forget who I was, where I came from, what I could do.” The sparking in the air grew. Aric dropped his hands. “I know we are on different sides now. I am mated to a woman who sits upon the Council and I have less than savory feelings towards the Republic. I don't expect you to understand; hell you might even agree with what they did to me. But I would like to ask you for your help. You have access to records I can't touch. Please help me find out what happened to my family.”

Jonas watched the fine fur around Aric's eyes grow damp; the air around his shoulders was sparking gold flecks. “Who is your family Aric?”

Aric's eyes clenched shut, as he took a deep breath through his nose. “The Katayevs. My real name is not Aric, Jonas, that is what they named me after they brainwashed me. I am Adrik Katayev, the nephew and heir of the Crown Prince of Cathar, Shange Katayev, the ruler of the largest territory on Cathar.”

“Why do you think I will be able to help you?” Jonas kept his voice to a soft whisper.

“Because the SIS imprisoned my Uncle on Belsavis, because of our negotiations. Please help me find them, we have not been able to locate my Mother or my older siblings.” Aric turned to look at Jonas slowly opening his eyes, tears dripped down his fine-furred cheeks. “I have no idea where they are, my mother is former Jedi Master Rayna Katayev, she looks like I do, same colouring, blue eyes, red fur no markings, long mane. My siblings are Syara, Zarin and Jurri Vetrov. They have my Father's name.”

“You have your uncle's name because you are his heir?”

The Cathar nodded, “He never had an heir, I was his favorite nephew out of his favorite sister's kits.”

“You are a Prince?”

“I am, I know sounds pretty incredible to me too, but it’s the truth.”

“And you want me to help you find out what happened to the rest of your family?”

“Please, we can't find any record of them, I don't even know if they still live or if they are imprisoned somewhere. I have to find them.”

He stared at Aric, the entire situation sounded entirely surreal and Jonas thought it was probably fabricated. If he hadn't just witnessed Aric's light show in the cargo bay, he wouldn't have believed that either. He bit his lip watching the Cathar, maybe it wasn't, stars he really didn't know what to believe.

“You don't believe me do you?” Aric murmured, his eyes opened as he turned to look at Jonas. “You really don't believe me.”

“It… this whole thing. Aric, it is really hard to believe. Would you believe it if you were in my position?”

The Cathar nodded his head. Jonas watched as a sharp fang dimpled his lower lip. The room grew quiet as Aric continued to stare at him, “Okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “okay, you need some kind of proof. Okay.” The Cathar took a deep breath, momentarily closing his eyes before opening them. “You said you were looking for proof to lock up both the General and my damn former XO?” Aric sighed as his Jonas visibly watched him shudder, the exposed fur on his arms flinching.

“Yes,” Jonas nodded, “I have been, for years.”

“So it is all an act? You don't actually have any kind of feelings for her?”

It was Jonas' turn to shudder. Feelings for that woman? She didn't care about anyone; he was counting the days until he was finally away from anything to do with her. “No,” he whispered. Licking his lips he tried again, managing to raise his voice. “No, there is nothing personal there, it is just a job.”

“A job you have had to get intimate with?”

“Yes,” Jonas nodded, “not the most enjoyable part of the job. It can wear at you, pretending to enjoy someones company when you really don't want them touching you.”

Aric bowed his head nodding, “So,” he started before closing his eyes and running his hand over his face. Clearing his throat Aric spoke again, “So, how many times did she use it on you?”

“What?” Jonas gasped, “Used what?” His eyes locked onto the Cathar sitting next to him.

“Stim. Nearly clear, tinted a light green. She probably worked shock cuffs into the equation.”

“What... how the karking hell did you know?” Jonas' eyes widened as he stared at the still slouched over Cathar. “How did you know? Did she tell you?” his stomach rolled as he took a deep breath, soft material knotted in his fingers as he tightly gripped the edge of the bed in his left hand.

“No, no,” Aric whispered, shaking his head. “Just a hunch.” Jonas strained to hear him his voice had gotten so soft. “A hunch you just confirmed.”

“A hunch?” Jonas' stomach heaved, hot bile flooded his mouth. Forcing himself to swallow the vile stuff, he leaned in closer towards the hunched over Cathar.

“Yeah,” Aric nodded, “I knew she would not be able to resist.” The Cathar looked away from him, “She just had to use it on someone.”

“Stars, she pulled on me one night. Made me so ill, it was horrible. I started throwing up almost immediately.” Jonas shuddered, fingers tightening their hold on the black fabric. “Thankfully she just left, I didn't want her around.”

“I still don't know how you were able to stand being in a squad with that woman”.

“I think hell is a nicer place.”

“No kidding,” Jonas whispered. “Being stuck with her, No wonder you starting dating an imp.”

“I, Aric's voice cracked, “I don't want to talk about that woman, I just wanted to prove to you that I was in control of my memories, that it wasn't some strange idea implanted there by people trying to take advantage of me.”

“Okay,” Jonas whispered. “I never told anyone about that incident, or that stim. I filed it away in a report.” He watched Aric, who continued to sit hunched over, elbows on his knees. “She never used it again.” He watched the Cathar visibly relax his shoulders dropping, head dipping forward. “But you knew of its existence, someone living in a fog would not know a detail like that.”

“So do you believe me?” Sitting upright, Aric turned to look at him, moisture was gathered along his lashes.

Jonas nodded, “I do.”

“So, will you help?”

Jonas nodded again, “How, how did you know about that stuff?”

Aric chewed on his bottom lip, staring at him. Finally he sighed, “I, I was the only one with her on that ship for months, I learned all kinds of things about her.”

“Yeah,” Jonas muttered. “You were the only one there.”

As his words faded the room grew quiet. Aric turned away looking at the wall. Jonas didn't push him. There was something else going on, but after the display in the cargo hold, the last thing he wanted to do was upset the Cathar again.

Finally Aric shifted next to him, “Why didn’t you just tell Vette you were looking for me?” Aric looked over at Jonas, his brow bunching.

Jonas sighed bringing his hands to his face, “I was angry, really angry.”

“Why were you angry?”

“Well…” Jonas started, before stopping. *Taking a deep breath he continued, “I thought you were lying to me, using me. I had figured out who Vette was; a Twi’lek, who was in the employ of a Sith lord, one who had freed her. I had thought she was still in the Sith’s employment. You were dating an Imp. I knew the Imp and Vette were friends, I honestly thought Vette would help me get in touch with your girlfriend and maybe help me locate you. When I saw the kind of ship that Vette was walking towards, I knew it wasn’t a merchant’s vessel, that they had lied to me.”

Jonas’ shoulders slumped. “I had never in a million years dreamed Kit was the Sith, never. Stars I thought she was some cute redheaded imp who liked art. I feel like such a karking idiot.”

“No,” Aric whispered. “No you are not an idiot. It is impressive you were able to figure it out.”

“I’m the one that feels like an idiot, I honestly thought we had done a better job of keeping it a secret.” Aric sighed leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Trust me, you did a great job. I was so damn worried about you Aric, I thought you had been killed. Then I walk into this hanger looking for some old freighter and I find a well maintained Interceptor. Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“I understand your anger, Jonas, I really do.” Aric turned towards him, “I never meant to mislead you. I just couldn’t tell anyone.”

There was a soft knock at the door, Jonas looked up. Kit was standing in the doorway, her personal holocom in hand. “I don't mean to interrupt. But you are needed on the bridge Adrik.”

Beside him the Cathar nodded, pushing off the bed. He paused halfway across the room, glancing back over his shoulder. “I know you want to know where you are. You can come look, though you might wish you hadn't.”

Kit moved to stand next to Aric; no she had called him Adrik. His name was Adrik. Jonas realized that was the first time he had actually heard Kit call him by name. “Are you alright?” she quietly asked, her thumb reaching up to brush the moisture off his cheeks.

“Yes,” he murmured leaning into her embrace, “I am alright.” He gave her a small smile.

“Okay,” she leaned into him, gently kissing him. “I need you to take us home, the Spaceport has already been notified of our intent.”

Adrik nodded, stepping past her and out of the room. Kit looked over at him. “Go on take a look,” she motioned out of the room with a nod of her head.

Jonas stood hesitating, watching the Cathar's retreating form.

“Go on,” Kit looked at him, as she made a shooing gesture.

He walked from the room, his feet instantly missing the thick rug in the bedroom when they hit the cool durasteel. He heard the swoosh of a door closing; looking over his shoulder, he saw the bedroom door was shut. He was alone in the common area. Swallowing hard he took a deep breath, he knew the bridge was through the doorway, mere steps away. Steeling his nerves he started walking for that doorway, they were willing to actually allow him on the bridge, let him see where he was, maybe he could actually talk them into taking off these damn shackles.

I am so sorry if any of this one was repetitive. I think it is the downside of writing for myself with the prompts. It wasn't until I put them all into a master document, that I realized that somethings had been repeated. I tried to edit it so it wasn't to boring for my lovely readers.

Prompt is Discoveries with Alternative Perspectives

In my world since Marr sits the Sphere of Defense of the Empire, Kit sits the Sphere of Military Offense.

Also have a link http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Darth_Marr under defender of the Empire.

Ah, I knew that it would be moving forward in a good way. But poor Jonas, he had to go through more than I had been expecting. Eventually everything is driving them in the same direction. Looking forward to read more.

Yeap, you were right. I couldn't tell you though, cause that would have spoiled things.

Year 3634 follows preceding chapter

Cautiously he crept towards the bridge, eyes scanning the unfamiliar layout as he headed down the short curved corridor. When he rounded the corner he saw a huge astronavigation chart, the projected image was a close up of an area he was not familiar with. Sitting in the Captain's chair, positioned in front the glowing blinking map was Aric, his fingers were ghosting over the control panel. His hands stilled as he hit a button, “Yes, Vaiken this is The Chimera.” Aric grabbed the yolk after flipping another switch. The ship gently moved under his feet. Aric checked a gauge before depressing the button again. “Traffic control, beginning preparation for atmospheric entry. Destination is the Jen'chwûq Hanger, per clearance besh zurek aurek four.”

A clear and brisk Imperial voice filled the bridge, “Acknowledged Chimera, notifying Spaceport.”

The voice disappeared as the ship slowly began to move, humming gently as it's engines idled. The voice returned, “Acknowledged Chimera, the Spaceport has been notified, begin atmospheric entry.”

“Thank you traffic control, beginning entry now.” The Cathar briskly responded as he grasped the yolk in both hands.

“Understood,” the voice seemed to warm slightly, “welcome home my Lord.”

Aric rolled his eyes, “Thank you traffic control, Chimera out.”

Jonas watched Aric shift his weight in the chair and the ship began to gain momentum. He watched how easily the Cathar handled the controls, just how long had he been flying this thing? Jonas stepped closer, slowly edging his way to the bridge. When he looked up, his knees grew week. Clutching the wall, he clung to it, while looking out the expansive transpristeel window. Before him was a blinking orbiting Space Station. Beyond the station in rigid organized rows were countless Dreadnaughts, resting in the security of multiple patrols of starfighters. His eyes skimmed over the various fighters, bombers and even the occasional shuttle that moved around the slumbering giants. Swallowing hard he looked past the Space Station to the planet that lay beyond, its dark blue and grey surface alive with rapidly moving electrical storms and white swirling clouds, it was a rather beautiful pearl like orb gently nestled in the darkness of space, being faithfully guarded by its massive fleet of protectors.

His knees threatened to cave completely, fingernails digging into the edge of the durasteel, he willed his body to obey him. Leaning against the wall he watched the massive orb before them, the turbulent atmosphere in constant movement. The words welcome home echoed in his head. How stupid could he have been, he had thought they were headed to some neutral world. He should have known better, he did know better. His body slumped against the wall, slowly sliding down the durasteel. How had he missed the name of the Space Station? He had heard Aric say it, why did it not process? Why had he thought they were headed into a place that might give him some slight opportunity to escape, to get the hell out of this surreal situation? He should have known, given that holocall where they were headed.

She took them home; his body slipped even further as he lost his grip on the durasteel. He slumped against the wall his rump on the floor, knees to his chin; she took them back to where they lived. On Dromund Kaas.

I looked all over for a prompt for this one. I either never had one, or was bad and forgot to make a note of it.

I concur! Jonas is gonna need some good luck. I have faith in him though.

None I can remember

Year 3634 immediately following

The ship was silent; the sound of the repulsorliftors firing as they landed had faded. Their fast steps had echoed off the durasteel as they transversed the ship, now they were silent. He didn’t know where they were. He looked past the dormant navicomputer and slumbering control panels, powered down now that the Chimera was docked.

Slowly he stood, hands working their way up the wall. Swallowing he stared out of the massive transpristeel window. Still drying water droplets slid across its surface catching and reflecting the hanger’s lights. Looking back behind his shoulder he crept closer; towards the Captain's chair. The hanger looked to be massive; carved out of the rock. He grasped the chair's back as he leaned forward craning his neck, it could have once been a cavern, enlarged and modified ages ago.

It stretched on seemingly unending, its far walls unseen, shrouded in dark shadows. Resting along side the Chimera, to its starboard side, he could clearly see two additional Fury-class Interceptors, the shadowed outline of a third in the distance. Parked in front of the Chimera was a well maintained freighter, judging from the additional turrets, it had been modified; heavily. Sitting just beyond was a pair of shuttles, black, all identifying markers in white, proclaiming them property of Jen'chwûq Hanger. Stars how did Aric... Adrik even pronounce that? That damn language was that? Jonas shook his head, his eyes settling on the large unoccupied section to the port side. Neatly coiled hoses sat waiting. What ship was that space reserved for?

A clang echoed through the ship, shattering the silence. Another click followed, his head turned toward the sound. It was coming from the aft of the ship. The gangplank. Jonas released the chair, walking on the balls of his feet. Who was entering the ship and why had no one gotten him? Adrik had simply walked past him when they landed, only pausing to touch his shoulder, asking if he was alright. Jonas barely remembered nodding before he returned his head to his knees.

A low hiss filled the air; Jonas stopped listening at the end of the short corridor, watching as the hydraulic ramp was lowered. Loud boisterous laughter erupted from the aft of the ship, carried into the common area on the noisy backs of running footfalls.

“Mommy, Daddy, Uncle Aric,” twin voices giggled.

Jonas pressed his back up against the wall.

“Kyra, Aryn?” Kit's voice preceded her as she walked from the unknown corridor on the port side.

Two small children rounded the corner running as fast as they could through the ship. They were nearly identical; both had dark, reddish-brown hair. The little girl was sporting two long nexu tails; the little boy who was following closely behind, his hair was cropped short. Neither looked to be much older than six maybe seven standard years old, both were clothed in dark grey long sleeved shirts and baggy pants. Why were children so young dressed in such somber clothing? Hot on their heels was a tall, broad shouldered man, his long blond hair hung loose, well past his waist. Jonas realized the unknown man was clad in the same attire.

Kit knelt down, black robe pooling on the ground as the two children ran to her, wrapping their arms around her. “What a surprise,” she hugged them both tightly, kissing each on the forehead.

“Sorry Buir, they heard Adrik. Snuck down here to surprise you.” The blond man pushed his loose locks out of his face, exposing a crown of ivory horns and back tattoos upon his bronzed face.

The Lieutenant's rolling laugh announced his entry, “Tried to sneak on did ya?”

“Daddy,” they squealed letting go of Kit and running to the massive Lieutenant. Jonas' jaw involuntarily hung open when the two children ran and lept into his outstretched arms. The Lieutenant was a huge man and they both easily lept over a meter to reach his arms. How had they managed that? The Lieutenant grunted as he caught them spinning them in a circle. The children squealed again as he roared tossing them into the air.

“They snuck down here huh?” Kit stood walking to the blond man.

The Zabrak smiled, “They did, didn't have a chance to find my boots.” He grinned pointing down at his bare feet. “Unexpected to have you home.”

Kit sighed hugging the Zabrak, she was nearly lost in his embrace, the man was at least a head taller than her. “Unexpected news, I will have to be in attendance at the next Meeting.”

“Oh,” his tattooed brow lifted, “trouble?”

She shook her head, “An inconvenience nothing more.”

“Buir, do you need my assistance?”

She tilted her head back studying the Zabrak's face, before shaking her head. “No but thank you, Nox will be there as will Marr.”

“Really...”

She briskly nodded, “Though I will need your assistance with another matter, ner Ad.” She looked over her shoulder at Jonas.

He immediately dropped his eyes, staring at an interesting rivet on the floor.

“Come on,” he heard the Lieutenant's voice, but Jonas didn't look up. “Lets get something to eat, I'm hungry.”

A giggling voice answered, “You are always hungry.”

“True, better feed me then, 'cause you are lookin' good enough to eat.”

The giggling grew louder, and then the laughter faded. The ship filled with silence. Jonas looked up, Kit and the Zabrak were nowhere to be seen, he didn't hear the children or the Lieutenant. The ship appeared to be empty, the only people left aboard appeared to be himself and the Cathar standing before him.

“I hate to do this to you, but we don't think it is in our best interest, or yours, to let you off this ship. It is not permanent. Just for the night, but you have to come with me.”

Numbly Jonas nodded, forcing his feet to head back to the cargo hold, back to that damned cot. He walked before the Cathar, head heavy. He had thought they understood he was still Aric's friend. He hadn't been lying, but he still had to go back to the cot.

He slowly sat down, picking up his left leg, setting his barefoot on the thin mattress. He flinched when the Cathar placed the shackle back around his ankle; swallowing a strangled sniff when it locked closed.

“Hey,” Aric's voice was soft. “Hey, I will be back.”

Jonas didn't look up, just rested his head on his drawn up knees, unmoving. The sounds of Aric's footfalls faded. He curled forward wrapping his bound hands around his stomach. He had promised Aric... No Adrik! A voice in the back of his mind yelled at him. It is Adrik Katayev, you need to remember what he told you. Jonas nodded his head rolling it along his knees, he did need to remember, if he got out of here, he had to remember what he had learned.

He had promised Adrik that he was still his friend hadn't he?

No, the little voice answered, you only said you considered him to be a friend. You have promised nothing. Who cares if you did? They are just a bunch of Imps; damned Sith. Why keep your word to them?

Jonas curled up tighter, the gnawing voice was right. What did he owe them? Nothing. Except the fact that Aric had been his friend for years, did a name change erase all of that history? The thought of having someone completely rip away your life for political reasons at such a young age, it was horrifying. Stars if it was true he needed to help before the entire planet walked away from its relationship with the Republic.

He curled up tighter, into an upright ball. It was too much to think about right now. Closing his eyes he tried to stop his racing mind.

“Hi,” a little voice startled him.

Looking up over his knees he saw the little girl. “Hi,” he answered.

“I am Kyra, what is your name?” She looked at him from across the room, still safely standing next to the open door.

“My name is Jonas,” he answered fully picking his head up.

“Hi Jonas.” Kyra stepped closer, “You have boo-boo's.”

Jonas sat up straighter, “I do.”

“Why?” she stepped closer.

“Well, I upset your Daddy.”

“Oh, you must have done something bad. What did you do?” Her hands formed little fists on her hips.

“Well, I tried to find someone. Went about it the best way I knew how, I don’t think your parents liked it.”

She stepped closer, staring up at him with huge green eyes. He felt like she was sizing him up. “Who someone?”

Jonas gave her a small smile, “I was looking for your Uncle Aric.” He hoped he correctly remembered the name the kids had used for him.

“Hey,” her little face screwed up into an angry pout. “You were not going to hurt him, were you? The bad guys hurt him, and you sound funny, are you a bad guy?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I am not a bad guy. I have been friends with him for years. I was worried about him, I had no idea where he was.”

“Oh,” she moved her hands away from her hips, “That is easy. He was with Mommy. She saved him from the bad guys.” Kyra stepped closer; she was barely a meter away from the cot now. Jonas realized she was holding something. “The bad guys hurt him, hurt his head, bad.” She sighed, frowning. “He forgot lots of stuff, he even forgot how to play.”

Jonas contemplated the little girl, from the way she talked she sounded like she had known Aric her entire life. “He forgot how to play huh? Did he play with you a lot?”

She vigorously nodded her head, “Yes he is best at hide-and-seek.”

“Really, why is that?”

“'Cause,” she looked at him as if he had suddenly grown a third eyeball. “He can smell you.”

“Oh right, how silly of me. Have you always had an Uncle Aric?”

She sighed, “Of course.” Kyra stepped closer. “Why are you so sad? You found Uncle Aric, you should be happy. Plus his head is all better. Will he not play with you?”

“Oh I am happy I found him, I am sad because I am here.”

“My house is nice, don't be sad.” She looked at him puzzled.

He shook his head; well that would explain why he was not allowed off the ship. “I am sad because I won't see my home again.”

She walked right up to the edge of the cot. “Is that because you talk funny?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” she shrugged. She set the small bag on the cot. He glanced at it, the thing was beat up, scuffed and torn with well-worn patches, its black surface still sported a faded red Black Opps logo. She opened it up, pulling out its contents. Kyra placed a box of kolto strips, an open roll of gauze and a sealed sanitized washcloth on the cot. It was an old medical kit.

“Here,” she gestured.

Slowly he bent sideways, propping his body up with his chained hands, while slowly easing his knees onto the cot.

Kyra's little fingers opened the washcloth, pressing it against the welt on his forehead. It actually felt good. Jonas had no idea how many days he had been on this ship; the last time he had showered was the morning he had set out to find Vette. The washcloth moved to his nose; her green eyes serious as she surveyed his face.

“So,” Jonas whispered, “You like to play medic?” Kyra nodded, her expression unchanging. “Do you want to be a medic when you grow up?” She shook her head no, her fingers moving to his jaw. He winced when the cool cloth his his still aching face.

“Ouch,” she protested. “You have spike-ies.”

“Spike-ies?” He brought his hands up and touched his cheek, “Oh my facial hair. Yeah I do, I haven’t been able to shave for the past few days.”

“I don't like spike-ies.”

“I'm sorry,” Jonas grinned, “I don't like them much myself, if I could I would shave them.”

Kyra continued to study his face, her green eyes widened. “Oh I know,” she reached out touching his jaw. A deep warmth seemed to blossom under her fingertips; flooding along his cheek. It grew in its intensity, causing him to gasp. It felt good, but it also burned. He cradled his cheek in his hands. Jonas watched her little fingers pull away, a dark red smoke dissipating. “There,” she declared triumphantly, “all better.”

“All better?”

“Yeah, all better.” She began to repack her medical bag.

Jonas realized as the burning sensation faded, his face did feel better. Cautiously he touched the welt over his right eye, it was gone. “How did you do that?” he whispered.

She giggled, “It was easy.”

“Was it?” he continued to rub the now smooth skin.

She giggled harder, nodding. “It makes Mum and Daddy proud, and Grandpa. They are proud of me.”

“Well I am impressed,” he continued to rub his forehead as he studied Kyra, she definitely had the look of her mother about her, pale skin, green eyes.

She stopped laughing and patted him on the hand, suddenly serious again. “Don't worry about going home. I heard them talking. My big brother is taking you home. But don't tell them I would get into...”

“... Trouble.” a deep voice intoned.

Jonas snapped his head upward, in the doorway stood the blond Zabrak and Aric. “Kyra, what are you doing in here?” The Zabrak demanded. Kyra yelped and then she just disappeared, vanished into thin air. “I am still telling Buir!” The Zabrak growled, his green eyes latched onto Jonas. “What was she doing?”

Jonas pushed his body backwards, against the wall. “She healed my face.”

The Zabrak sighed, muttering, “Haar'chak,” under his breath.

Aric stepped closer, “He would not hurt her.” The Zabrak just continued to stare at Jonas. “He wouldn't,” Aric laid a hand on the Zabrak's arm, “I vouch for him, he wouldn't.”

The Zabrak visibly relaxed. “Alright Buir.”

Jonas shifted on the cot; wishing he knew what the hell Buir meant, the Zabrak had said it a few times already. Cautiously he held his bound hands out, “I am Jonas.”

“Jonas?” the Zabrak rumbled, his brow arching.

“Um ah, Jonas Balker.”

The Zabrak reached out, grasping his hand with his left “Kiernan Darksun of Clan Lok.” The Zabrak dropped his hand, crossing his arms across his chest. “Are you going to help my Buir find his aliit?”

Jonas looked to Aric, “Aliit?”

Aric whispered, “Family.”

Jonas nodded retracting his dropped hand, “I will, I don't know how much I will be able to act but I will look.”

“Good,” Kiernan looked to Aric, nodding his head. “I will take him. Will you be coming?”

“No,” the Cathar briskly shook his head, “Neutral Space is dangerous enough. I don't dare step foot in Republic Space right now.”

“What happened?” Kiernan rumbled.

“Well,” Aric scratched the back of his head. “There was an incident on Taris.”

“What?” the Zabrak growled.

Jonas looked at Aric that was news to him.

“What happened?” Kiernan voiced the very question he had been thinking.

“Um, we were supposed to meet Nox there, at the ruined Jedi Enclave.”

Kiernan nodded.

“While we were looking for any usable information Kit and I realized how unnaturally quiet is was. We hadn't run into any resistance; never saw a single rakghoul. As we were leaving we ran into a Jedi ambush. Someone not only told Master Timmns about my condition, but they knew where we were headed.”

Kiernan's eyes grew larger; Jonas swore he saw them flash gold.

“We got away, but my Grandfather was there. They intended to take us both, kill Kit if they had too.”

Kiernan growled, the anger was palpable, Jonas swallowed hard, freezing on the cot as he saw violet lightening flash through the Zabrak's fingers. “Tion'jur,” Kiernan hissed through clenched teeth.

“Don't know, I can only guess they wanted to take me back to the Council. We ran instead of fighting. There were seven Jedi, more were sent after Nox. We finally met her at the base.”

Kiernan turned to Jonas, his red ringed irises flashing gold, “You have anything to do with that?”

“No,” Jonas adamantly shook his head, “no I didn't. I was searching for him. He disappeared, I wanted to know what happened to him, I was worried,” the words rapidly pouring from his mouth as he stared at those lightening laced fingers.

“This is no good. They might come here.”

“We won’t be staying, after this Council Meeting, we are headed out again.”

“Where?”

“Not sure, still looking for a way to rid myself of this last block.”

“Has it gotten any better?”

Aric frowned, “Slightly, I can see it now. It is frustrating, I can barely touch it, but I can see it, sense it but I can't use it.”

“Yet,” Kiernan frowned.

“Yes,” Aric agreed, “It is only a matter of time.” Aric sighed, “I have not even been able to look at the holocrons we did find. Vette has the datapad, she has been trying to extract the information off of it.”

Kiernan's eyes faded to green as the violet sparking lightening dissipated. He took a deep breath, “Want me to look at one Buir?”

“Possibly, though the one I had started working with, the Gatekeeper would only talk to me. Apparently a Jen'jidia was more acceptable than Sith.”

Kiernan chuckled, “Gatekeepers can be fickle.”

“They are in our bedroom, on the nightstand, take one. See if you can learn anything from it.”

Kiernan nodded, “Move him, to my ship. I will take him. Wait for my return, before you leave the system.”

Aric nodded, “I will tell her.”

The Zabrak headed out of the room, pausing in the doorway. “Put him in the crew barracks, watch him in the 'fresher. Store his weapons in my room.”

Aric nodded at Kiernan's retreating form. He knelt before Jonas, hands grasping his ankle.

“Aric,” Jonas whispered as the Cathar removed the restraint.

Aric looked up at him, “Yeah?”

“What is a Jen'jidia?”

Aric straightened, “It uhh, it is Sith, that is what they call me. It means dark Jedi.”

“Jedi?” Jonas slowly placed his bare feet on the floor. “I thought you were... I mean, aren't you a Sith?”

Aric gave him a forlorn smile, “No I am not Sith Jonas, not yet anyway. If you want to get technical, I am considered a fallen Jedi.”

“Why? I saw you... I mean... I don't understand,” Jonas stammered.

Aric sighed, “I am still broken, until this last block is lifted, I can not officially be taken as an apprentice.”

“Do you want to be? Is that what you want?” Jonas whispered.

“Do I want to be Sith?”

Jonas nodded, a cold lump forming in his stomach.

“I honestly don't care about titles. I want to be whole and live my life with my Mate, without having to look over my shoulder.”

Jonas forced himself to look over the Cathar standing before him, the one he had known for years that was now so different. “Are you happy?”

Aric grinned, “I am, this is the first time in all the years I have known her, I can wake up next to her every morning. I don’t have to worry about anyone learning about her, I no longer have to sneak shuttle rides.”

Jonas nodded; the lump seemed to lessen. Slowly he stood. “I won't tell,” he whispered. “I won't tell anyone I found you.”

“You won't?” Aric's brows arched in surprise. “I had thought you were obligated too.”

Jonas shook his head, “No I won't. I have no idea what they want with you. Plus there are kids here; I agree with Kiernan, I think they would try to follow you here. I will look up records, try to find out anything that can help you and keep your location a secret. Besides I have yet to find the AWOL soldier Aric Jorgan, I ran into this Prince named Adrik that could be his twin.”

“Really?” Aric whispered, “you are not going to report this back to your superiors?”

“No,” Jonas shook his head, “I won't.”

Aric stepped closer, grasping his hands. A duel click echoed through the room as the cuffs unlocked. “Thank you, thank you for your silence. Aric laid he hand on Jonas' shoulder. “Come lets get you cleaned up.”

Aric turned walking to the shelf retrieving Jonas' belongings, before leaving the room. Aric stopped in the hall, calling back into the cargo hold, “Are you coming?”

Jonas hurried after the Cathar, his mind racing, already planning how he was going to tell his superiors about the bomb Aric just dropped with out implicating his actions that resulted in this little side trip.

Buir = parent

ner ad = my child

Haar'chak = damn it

tion'jur = why

Again I am promptless Next chapter I do have one though!

I completely understand. Life has a habit of getting rather busy, especially during this time of the year. I am happy to hear that you are still enjoying it.

Year 3634 follows preceding prompt

Jonas shifted on his bunk, staring through the adjacent wall. He wanted to leave this bunk, to walk around, but he didn't dare venture outside of this room again. He picked at nonexistent lint on his pants. His last little walk outside this room had promptly sent him back.

He had tried earlier to explore the ship he was on, to try to find out where they were headed. When Jonas was shown his bunk, no one ever said he had to remain there. Walking along the immaculate corridor he had heard the sounds of blaster fire. Creeping towards the erratic sound he traced its source to a large room. Inside was Kiernan, the massive Zabrak was standing with his back towards the door. Jonas stared at the large black lines that flowed over the right side of his muscular back and arm. The man was huge; stars Kiernan's arms looked to be bigger than his own head, Jonas again made the mental note not to upset him, ever.

The snap of blaster fire filled the air followed by the distinctive hum of a saber. Jonas saw a blue bolt reflected into a wall, bounced off the dark crimson blade held in Kiernan's left hand. Slowly that red blade lowered, its tip nearly touching the floor. Kiernan turned his head before opening his eyes to watch him over his shoulder.

Jonas beat a hasty retreat, nearly running back to the safety of the crew’s quarters. He had not left his bunk since. This trip could not end fast enough. There was a quiet knock on the door, moments later it disappeared into the wall. Kiernan stood in the doorway, “Hungry?”

Jonas stared at the Zabrak, he had gotten dressed, garbed in dark grey clothes. Kiernan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he waited. His answer came when Jonas' stomach answered for him, rumbling.

The Zabrak grinned, “How long has it been?”

Jonas shook his head, he honestly had no idea, the last thing he had eaten was that sandwich. How long ago Vette had given it to him, he could not say.

“Come then, it's warm.” Kiernan moved off the doorframe. “Come,” he gestured as he left the room.

Slowly Jonas eased himself off the bed, following the Zabrak out of the room. He passed the room where he had found Kiernan training and quickened his pace. Kiernan paused at the next doorway, ducking his head as he entered. Jonas was hit with the smells of fresh cooked food, inhaling he followed Kiernan into the room.

They were in the galley, laid out before him on the table was an array of steaming dishes. Kiernan gestured to the table, “Help yourself.” Jonas watched as the Zabrak moved to the table, picking up a plate. “Come eat, I made enough.”

Jonas edged his way into the room, a slight tremor running though his hand when he picked up the other plate.

Kiernan picked up a spoon, digging into a steaming bowl of rice, putting a heaping portion onto his plate. “Relax I’m not going to hurt you. Buir wants you to go home, I am taking you home.” He moved to another bowl, one filled with small-diced veggies and cubed pieces of meat covered in a dark brown sauce. Kiernan then placed the loaded down plate on the table. “Want a drink?”

Jonas nodded.

“Alright,” he moved across to the conservator, grabbing two dark bottles. He twisted the caps off before sitting down, setting the second bottle across from him. Kiernan picked up his fork, “Eat. Getting cold.”

“You are not going to hurt me?” Jonas whispered, clutching the plate.

Kiernan shook his head no, “I won't, unless you do something stupid.”

“Something stupid?” Jonas repeated.

Kiernan nodded, “Like trying to hurt me. Don't do that, it would upset Buir if I had to hurt you.”

“What does Buir mean? Who is Buir?” Jonas watched the Zabrak lean back in his chair, fork still in hand.

“Buir is parent.” Kiernan answered setting his fork down.

“Parent, your parent would be upset. Who are your parents?” Jonas studied the bronze skinned man before him, trying to muddle through who his parents could possibly be.

Kiernan's tattooed brow rose, “You tell me.”

Jonas' stared at him, willing the Zabrak's steady stare to answer him. He had this feeling deep in his gut that Kiernan wasn't adopted. Those fire-ringed green eyes stared back at him. Then it clicked, the eyes. They were the same shade as Kyra's and Kit's, a bright, vibrant, emerald green. Cautiously Jonas spoke, “Kit is your mother and Aric is your step-father?”

Kiernan retrieved his fork, “Yes, she is. Should call him Adrik.” Kiernan took a bite of the food. “I gave them my word you would get home safe. Neither wants you hurt.” He gestured to the bowls of still steaming food, “Really should eat.”

Jonas moved to the table, watching Kiernan eat a few more bites before his stomach growled, a low rumble, prodding him to actually fill his plate. Kiernan chuckled as he ate, shaking his head. “You want me to hurt you? Zap you with lightening, choke you? I can, if you want. Get it over with so you relax. This will be a long trip.”

Jonas shook his head, “No, no I don't I...”

“Are expecting me to, I can feel it. Now eat, your food is getting cold, your ale is getting warm.”

Jonas sat down in the empty chair. Looking up he realized Kiernan's plate was nearly empty. When had he managed to eat all of that food? He watched in amazement, as Kiernan polished off the rest of his plate in three massive bites. The Zabrak tilted his head back killing his bottle of ale. Standing he moved his dirty dishes to the sink. “Eat your fill, I will clean up later. Try to get some sleep. Will be at Coruscant in twenty-four hours.”

Jonas watched Kiernan leave the galley, amazed. He was headed to Coruscant? From there he could go just about anywhere, he could get home before he was missed. He took a bite of his dinner, pausing to appreciate it. The Zabrak wasn't a bad cook; the meat had a really nice flavor, a bit spicy but very tender. The realization hit him, if he was being taken to Coruscant he could easily catch a shuttle to Nar Shaddaa, stars he could report to the office on Coru itself. He wouldn't have to travel anywhere. There wasn't any reason why he couldn't be on Coruscant, office was larger, might make it easier to figure out what was really going on. Jonas pushed a browned piece of meat around with his fork; he still doubted the validity of Aric's claims.

His stomach growled, shaking his head he pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He had the rest of the flight to decide what he wanted to do. Right now the thought of actually being able to relax and eat, it was amazing, though if anyone had ever told him he would of ever thought of sleeping around Sith he would have laughed them out of the room. He turned his attention to his dinner, promptly sinking his fork in.

A gentle chiming echoed through the air, teasing him awake. Rubbing his eyes he looked around the dimly lit room. How long had he been asleep? Almost as if it was answering his question the door slid open. Kiernan was standing in the doorway, clad in light blue armor. He was holding something in his hands. Sitting up in the bunk he pulled the blankets off, “How long was I sleeping?”

Kiernan shrugged, “A day. You needed it, let you sleep. Come,” he steeped into the room, “I have landed, business to attend to.”

“We are on Coruscant?” Jonas stood, stiff muscles protesting.

Kiernan nodded, holding out his hands. “Your things.”

Jonas reached out, thankfully grabbing his belongings. Setting the bundle on the bed he pulled out his belt, buckling it around his waist. Then he tightened his holster around his thigh. Slipping his blaster into the holster, he bent over to retrieve his boots. Kiernan wordlessly watched him pull on his boots, and place his holdout blaster and vibrodagger in their respective hiding places. Jonas stood slipping another dagger into a sheath on his belt. He picked up his jacket pulling it on, finally slipping his last dagger into an internal pocket. Kiernan briskly nodded and turned, leaving the room.

Jonas hurried after him, anxious to get off the damn ship and away from this awkward situation. The massive man moved quietly through the ship, he was shorter than that damned Lieutenant but still he was a good head taller than Jonas. He was curious what was going to happen when the Zabrak stepped off the ship; a Sith on Coruscant, that just didn't happen. As he followed him, Jonas realized that Kiernan sported two well-used blasters on his hips, the saber hilt looked like an afterthought, like some sort of trophy. When they reached the end of the gankplank Jonas resisted the urge to run through the hanger.

Wordlessly they walked, not a single soul paid any attention to the massive man walking alongside Jonas. Kiernan walked along, eyes ahead watching the bustling throng of sentients. A chilling realization came over Jonas; the man was completely comfortable. The Zabrak had probably been here before. Suddenly Kiernan stopped, grasping the helmet that was clipped to his belt. “Make good use of the information you were given. I must go, have business to attend to.”

Jonas shook his head perplexed, “Business what business do you have here?”

Kiernan only smiled, winking as he placed his helmet on his head.

“Where are you going?” Jonas took a step closer towards the armored Zabrak then caught himself, realizing how foolish of a move it was to try to stop him.

Kiernan's helmeted visage only shook at him before his large form turned away walking into the ever-moving throng. He seemed to simply disappear into plain sight, in mere seconds the man was gone, eaten by the continuous activity in the Spaceport.

What kind of business could he possibly have on this planet; there was no reason for him to be here. Was there? Last time any Sith were here, they sacked the Temple. The Temple; Kiernan was here for the Temple. Jonas sighed shaking his head, what did he care what Aric's stepson did in a demolished temple? He didn't, he should, but Jonas could just not bring himself to care. Kiernan was headed there to look for answers, the exact same thing Jonas had agreed to do. But first, he was going to check into a decent cantina and have a beer. He really needed one and he had to figure out what exactly he was going to do with the information he had been handed.

Prompts I have listed are Discovery and Family.

Looks like Jonas should now calm down and take some time to think and investigate. I am looking forward to seeing the face he will pull when he will discover more about Aric's story. And he probably has the skills and potentially credentials to learn more than they have so far.

I found if funny how he was freaked out with Kiernan walking around on Coruscant. I highly doubt that the Republic does not have people walking around on Dromund Kaas. If Jonas only knew about Ka'van (I do not remember if you give him the same position in this fic than in the other one, knowing that not everything is similar)...

He does have more credentials than some, which will hopefully help. Hopefully he will still help and not decide to do something else with the information he has gotten.

For him freaking out about Kiernan casually strolling about Coru, I did use some of the vibe I got when I played through that planet for the first time on my Pub toons, people honestly did seem surprised that there were Imps down in the undercity. So Jonas got to be surprised too.

You never know Jonas might get the honor of meeting Ka'van, wouldn't that be a fun time? Ka'van is in a very similar position in this story as well, he is not written about as much since this is not his story.

Year 3634 Month 7

She stood looking down the hallway, the high vaulted ceilings threatened to drop down trapping her. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves. She had not been this nervous to enter the Council chambers in years. Exhaling through pursed lips she closed her eyes. Uncertainty would only hamper her today she needed to be strong. Her Agent had been very thorough in her debriefing. Being anything other than confident and secure when dealing with this mad upstart, this Darth returned from the grave, would send her to her own. That was not an option.

Measured steps carried her further down the hall; pausing in front of the closed doors she smoothed her robes. Reaching out a black armored hand she heard a slight scuffing. Looking over her shoulder she saw the most unexpected sight, walking shoulder to shoulder were three very familiar silhouettes. Her eyebrows arched, what were they doing out here and not within the chamber?

She gave each one a brief nod of her head as she addressed them in turn, Marr, Vowrawn and Nox; “This is rather unexpected.”

“Not at all my dear,” Vowrawn smiled, “nothing like a good show of solidarity. A point does need to be made.”

“He is right,” Marr's mechanized voice to loud for the confines of the hallway. Kit wondered if it was possible to regulate the sound on that mask.

“Things have been progressing well, none of us need the distraction of this,” he waved his hand dismissively, “resurrected Darth.”

Kit looked to Nox, she just looked at Kit shrugging nonchalantly, “I just like to make a dramatic entrance.”

Kit stifled a sigh, shaking her head. A small chuckled filled the air it sounded like Vowrawn. “So,” Kit looked to Marr, “Are we in agreement about this?”

Marr nodded, “Yes, the Council is in agreement.”

“Good,” Kit nodded, reaching towards the door. Hurried footsteps echoed down the hall, stopping Kit's hand for a second time. Kit dropped her hand, looking to her fellow Council members. Vowrawn shook his head, before turning slightly towards the sound.

Running up behind them was Zhorrid, she came to a hurried almost sliding stop in front of them. Kit had ever seen her so... disheveled. Her blue eyes were sunken into her face, ringed in inky angry shadows, her face was devoid of all make-up and her hair was hastily pulled away from her face; not piled onto her head in a spotless up-do. Kit bit her lip as she looked over the puppet's clothing. It was wrinkled and torn, her customary elaborate robes gone. She had the desperate look of a woman who had not slept in weeks, perhaps she hadn't. Her usual slightly mad grin was done, replaced with the most stricken and pained expression Kit had ever seen. Perhaps Zhorrid actually understood what was going on.

“Are you going to do it? Are you going to kill him?” Her eyes were bouncing between them.

“Yes,” Marr crossed his arms.

“Good,” Zhorrid swallowed, “good. He has been trying to take everything. It is not his; I have been fighting. He can't have it. Everywhere I turn he has been there, trying to access the family accounts, our holdings, the Estates.” Zhorrird's eyes settled on Marr, “He has been sending those mindless things after the soldiers at the Estates on Begeren, Sernpidal and Dromand Kaas.”

“Has he made progress?” Marr shifted his weight, radiating annoyance.

“No, no, no” Zhorrid shook her head, “he has gained nothing. He won't stop, he needs to be stopped.” Her eyes bounced from Marr to Kit'ar, “He needs to be stopped, the Estates, the holdings they are all mine.” Zhorrid's eyes moved past Kit'ar, settling on a distant unknown object, her voice dropped. “I know he is not wanted on the Council, that you don't want him in the seat.” Zhorrid bit her lip as her eyes moved back to Kit'ar slowly looking her in the face. Kit'ar's brow arched as she contemplated Zhorrid, perhaps she had finally realized what was going on.

Zhorrid, licked her bottom lip, her eyes remained locked onto Kit, “I know you don't want him occupying that seat.”

Kit's head tilted slightly as she smiled, my my, she thought, Zhorrid has actually figured out what was going on, she holds onto her claims for her family's holdings but does not demand that the seat remain hers. “No,” Kit shook her head in agreement, “I don't want him occupying that seat.” Kit did not actually think the woman had it in her to put it all together, and to have the brains not to contest it; when time allowed perhaps Kit should have a little talk with this rouge Darth's daughter.

Kit'ar looked past Zhorrid to her colleagues, “Are we ready then?” Both men nodded briskly and Nox yawned. Kit reached out pushing the Council chamber's doors open with a nudge of the Force. She led the group into the cavernous room, flanked by Darth Marr.

The sight that greeted her instantly setting a scowl on her face; there reclining in the seat for the Sphere of Imperial Intelligence was the facelessly masked, black-robed form of Darth Jadus. He shifted in the seat, his eyeless mask swiveling to face them. “Good you are finally here. Such a delay is intolerable.”

Kit's frown deepened, creasing her forehead, the man’s voice irritated her, so damn smug as if he belonged here.

Marr re-crossed his arms, “Why are you here?”

“I have reclaimed what is mine.”

“Yours?” Marr scoffed, “Nothing within these walls is yours.”

Jadus shifted in the seat, “I have sat upon this Council for years, this seat is mine.”

“No,” Marr shook his head, “Once maybe, no longer.”

Jadus finally looked away from Darth Marr, his helmeted head slowly swept through the Council chamber, all the Council members were present, all were frowning. Ravage was slowly shaking his head, hand gripping the arm of his chair. Rictus and Mortis stared at Jadus their anger palpable. Decimus reclined back in his chair crossing his arms. Aruk was watching a bored expression on his face. From behind Kit'ar, Vowrawn and Nox moved to occupy their seats, afixing him with cold stares. She heard Zhorrid fidget behind her, before the woman moved off to the side standing beside Nox's chair.

Kit smiled at the masked menace, “Your presence is no longer wanted or needed within these walls you need to leave.”

Jadus' head locked onto her. “Who are you to tell me what to do? Some inconsequential upstart who shall be dead within the year?”

Marr laughed, “You have been gone far to long.”

Kit's smile became saccharin, “You will not be asked again, leave.”

“You can't command me, you upstart.”

“Upstart,” Kit chuckled, “upstart, honestly maybe at one time that might have been accurate but not anymore.” She looked to Marr, “How many years have I been here?”

Marr unclasped his arms, gesturing, “Seven years since you defeated your master, four years since you ascended to his old seat upon the Council.”

“Ahh yes how forgetful of me. Seven years, seven long productive years. Without you, Jadus. The most amazing part, there has been such a massive decline in terrorist acts against the Empire's citizens. I find that to be so interesting.” Kit's hand moved towards her saber.

Jadus stood, “I will not be talked to in such a manner.”

Kit felt the Force pulse through the room, growing cold as the irate former council member drew upon it. The temperature seemed to plummet as her skin *****led; the feeling of ice tipped spiders crawling over her body sent a shiver down her spine. A whispering tickle brushed against the back of her mind, telling her of unimaginable horrors. Frowning she reached out drawing upon the Force; the smoky warmth surged towards her, ready and willing. Such a pity really, she had hoped for a more interesting opponent, instead she was faced with the usual fear spewing Sith. “Oh I am afraid you will be.”

Marr laughed, his hand moving to his hilt. “Jadus I would like you to meet Darth Tyche, she has occupied the Sphere of Military Offense for years, pity you were … elsewhere.”

“What?” Jadus snorted, “you allow something like that to sit upon the Council yet you deny me? Preposterous. The rot of the Light Side surrounds her, it invades my very being,” Jadus looked to Aruk, “How can you even allow her to breathe!”

Aruk shrugged, uncrossing his arms, “She is extremely effective, her loyalties can not be questioned. Her methods might be a bit, unorthodox, but her power can not be dismissed.”

“Light Side,” Kit mumbled, “I swear, if you don't run off foaming at the mouth everyone accuses you of being a closet Jedi. Just because I would rather kiss someone instead of terrify them...” she shook her head.

Marr nodded his head in agreement, “It is a bit short sighted.”

“What are you even talking about,” Jadus seethed, standing. “A creature like that does not deserve to be here, much less sitting on the Council.”

“That is where we disagree, we prefer the make-up of the Council as it currently stands, without you.” Ravage spoke from across the room, “Listen to the Wrath, leave.”

“Wrath,” Jadus spit, “He is not here.”

Again Marr laughed, “Gone far to long. Though that shall be remedied shortly. She is the current embodiment of our Emperor's Wrath, the previous Wrath is gone, disappeared years ago. Our Emperor saw fit to raise her to such a station.”

“Madness, this is all madness, I should have returned years ago, if this is what passes for a Council. My idiot child, this upstart Jedi.” Jadus brought his hands up. Kit'ar and Marr both grabbed their saber hilts igniting them in sync. Blades of crimson and cyan deflected the violent burst of violet lightning back to its creator.

Marr looked at her over his shoulder, “Still?”

Kit shrugged, “I like the colour, blue is pretty. Honestly does it matter the colour of the blade, they all cut the same.”

Marr conceded with a small tilt of his head, moving towards Jadus' sparking form. Together they advanced, repelling round after round of snapping lightning. Kit tightened the grip on her saber using both hands, an action mirrored by her fellow Council member. Jadus was not toying with them; the strength of his blows was increasing. Perhaps this might be an interesting duel after all.

Slowly they advanced on Jadus, he still stood atop the small dais. “Do try not to damage anything,” Kit muttered under her breath, “the credits are better spent on the war effort.”

Marr barked a low laugh as he moved off to the left; she moved to the right flanking Jadus. Kit felt the temperature plummet; her breath grew cold. The endless rounds of lightning ceased as the former Council member drew his saber. Kit felt the subtle spiking of the Force as Marr surged forward bringing his crimson blade slicing downward angled across Jadus' chest. Jadus' blade hissed to life as his responding blade clashed against Marr's, sparking as the red plasma beams collided. Kit ran forward swinging her cyan blade at his undefended side, she didn't care about fair and honorable, not today, today she only wanted a swift victory. Too much hung in the balance, this man needed to die and quickly.

Lightning surged forth, blasting towards Kit. She deflected the bolt back towards Jadus' rapidly moving form. Somehow he had disentangled his blade from Marr's and was flipping backwards, over the high-backed chair. “Damn nimble shutta spawn,” Kit mumbled as she changed her course moving towards where he now stood. Jadus continued to move, circling away from them heading to the spacious center of the room. Marr and Kit'ar shadowed his movement, remaining on either side of him, waiting, watching.

The ominous feeling of her family being in danger crept up the back of her neck, setting the hairs on end. It grew, demanding her attention, her family was in danger, they were all going to die, horrible painful deaths. Kit snarled, tightening the grip on her saber. Her family was safely sequestered away behind the ancient, thick walls of their familial Estate; this madman had no idea who they were. He had only laid eyes on her for the first time moments ago. Manipulative coward. She wasn't going to let this man terrorize her, how he had terrorized countless others. No he was going to be leaving them, and joining the Void.

She reached out, grasping the Force that swirled thick through the room. She channeled the hatred for this smug manipulative coward, who was he to assume that he would be able to waltz back after all this time, threaten her and attempt to exert any control over the Council they had worked so hard to stabilize? He had his chance; he threw it all away in his strange convoluted power play. She drew the raw anger into her core, the heady high of the Dark Side flowing through her. Beside her she heard Marr chuckle, “That's my girl.”

Kit snorted, “Like you would even know what to do with me, stick to what you know. Kill this distraction.”

Marr's answering chuckle seemed to echo off the walls. He advanced on Jadus as Kit continued to circle around behind the masked man. The silence in the room grew, every eye watching them. Jadus stopped moving standing in the center of the room, saber ignited, fingers sparking. A wall of slithering cold slammed into her, freezing her breath as it tried to leave her lungs. Slipping over her, covering her in its oily frost. She growled, repelling the unnatural cold, refusing to let it affect her. Kit snarled, pushing back the half heard whispers of her parent's deaths, of her spouse’s demise. This man knew nothing, grasping at straws, trying to distract her. His attention was solely on Marr. The idiot. To blatantly discount the unknown. Oh this was going to feel so good.

She circled around waiting for an opening as Marr lept towards Jadus, his crimson blade entangling with the former Council members with a snapping hum. Marr growled, shoving his saber forward, pushing the smaller man off balance. Jadus stumbled, it was a small error, one Kit quickly seized. She flew through the air, landing with a stone-cracking thud, her cyan blade swinging for Jadus' unprotected leg. A surge through the Force pushed her backwards. She dropped her hand to the ground, slowing her unwanted directional change. A large volley of lightning followed, as Jadus shot a burst in her direction while bringing up his saber to block Marr's swing. Kit stood, wondering how much longer he would be able to defend himself against two opponents.

Kit ran, saber to the side, to rejoin Marr. Again she felt the Force push at her, she growled deflecting the unseen attack. She pressed through, returning to Marr's side. Together they swung, each aiming for an extended limb. This time Jadus chose to deflect her strike, dancing away from Marr's blade. “Damn slippery little...” Kit muttered.

She stalked after Jadus, this was taking to long. Not a single blow had been landed. He had to be getting tired; those sorcerer types never did last very long in single combat. Marr grumbled beside her, “Rather irritating.”

“Quite.” Kit answered.

They continued to follow Jadus' movements around the center of the room. The former Council member continued to send lightning; the bolts deflected back to their source. The room continued to grow cold, but the persistent voices were easily ignored. The sheer volume of the Dark Side surrounding her bolstered her confidence; he was running out of ideas if he had to continue to resort to the vague threat of her family’s torturous death.

Kit'ar looked to Marr, the man was standing at her side, shaking his head staring at Jadus. The annoyance rolling off the man was almost humorous if she also didn’t share in his sentiment. Kit roared leaping towards Jadus, besides her Marr ran. They reached their target at the same time, sabers working in concert as Jadus backed up working to deflect the plasma blades. The cackle of lightning filled the room, a steady backdrop to the snapping, thrumming of the colliding sabers. They pressed their advantage, ducking, weaving, striking out against Jadus. They flowed tirelessly, seeking the one opening that would end it, this deadly dance.

Suddenly, a crimson blade erupted from his chest. Kit'ar and Marr stopped short, staring eyes wide. The blade pushed further through as Jadus sank to his knees. Behind him stood his daughter, her saber shoved through his back held in her white knuckled fingers. The saber deactivated and Jadus fell silently to the floor.

“Well that was rather anti-climactic,” Nox muttered as she stood up. “Though I do suppose that concludes this session.” She looked about the room, “Reconvene in a few weeks then?” Nox flippantly gestured with her hand as she stepped down off her chair's dais. She walked to where Kit, Marr and Zhorrid stood over Jadus. “Oh,” she muttered, “you might want to behead that, just to make sure. Hard to resurrect yourself when you are missing your head.” Nox picked up the hem of her black robe and left the Council chamber.

“She is right,” Marr muttered, his blade swinging downward, cleanly slicing the man’s head from his neck. Marr looked over at Kit, “You cracked the floor.”

Kit rolled her eyes, “I will see it repaired.” She deactivated her saber returning it to her belt. “Clean up this damn mess,” she gestured to the corpse on the floor, “I am headed home.” She pivoted on her foot, robe swirling around her. As she walked from the Council chamber, Marr's low laughter followed her.

Prompt: Boring Conversation Anyway

I honestly forgot that Jadus was supposed to be that powerful. It just made sense to me at the time. This is one of those chapters I wrote when the prompt came out. It all kind of flowed together really well.

Year 3634 Month 7

Rough fingers pulled at him, urging him to wake. Groaning he rolled over, the sensation of hands moving along his body increased. They dug through his chest fur. He felt the hands move to his neck caressing; he willed his eyes to open. In the darkness of the room he could make out the dark silhouette of a figure straddling him in the bed. Inhaling he detected the heavily Force-infused, sweat-soaked scent of his Mate. “Kit, what is the matter...”

He was interrupted by her lips crashing into his; forcefully kissing him with an unspoken urgency. Blinking he forced his eyes to focus. She was leaning over him, her black underarmor damp. He brought his hands up cradling her head as he returned her kiss. “Kit,” he growled.

She became more insistent as her hands ran over his bare chest.

He broke off the kiss, pressing his head into the silk covered pillows. “Kit,” he whispered, his voice sounding like a shout in the still room. “Kit what is wrong?”

She looked at him, finally giving him a clear view of her face, her eyes like molten fire. He stared at the violent red of her irises. “What happened at that Council meeting?”

She shook her head, leaning forward, closing those burning eyes as she brushed her lips against his. He growled as she leaned into him, fingers digging into his tawny chest fur. A rumbling groan left his lips. His hands ran down her sweat damp clothing; it clung to her body, snagging on his claws. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her closer, biting her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth, shifting on his waist.

Adrik leaned back, studying her as his clawed fingers ran over her smooth porcelain skin. Outwardly she looked no different from a usual sparring session; hair pulled back, damp underarmor. All looked normal but for her eyes. He realized he couldn't actually feel her, not even a blip of emotion. Taking a deep breath he allowed himself to truly see. Blinking he watched the shifting, ever flowing mist settle over the room. Before him Kit blazed, the Force around her burning brightly, but it was not the usual bright red and yellow that surged forth like a sun. It was heavily tainted, thick black clouds, an oily darkness encroached, consuming her aura eating at her. He shuddered what had happened? Something had gotten to her, caused her to pull more deeply from the Dark Side than she was used too. Or something had overwhelmed her to the point it had tainted her. “Kit,” he again whispered, “Babe tell me what happened.”

Again she shook her head. “No,” she mumbled against his mouth. “Not yet. I need you.”

He nodded as he leaned up, capturing her mouth. Once before he had seen her like this, two years ago on Voss. Then she had to meditate for half a day to regain control and shed the corrupted touch that clung to her. She had fought an ancient Force ghost who dwelled within the sanity stealing Nightmare Lands. Whatever business she had to deal with at the today's meeting, she had to pull on the Dark Side to such lengths that once again she had to work to regain control.

At least now he could actually help instead of sitting helplessly by. Closing his eyes Adrik lowered his personal shields encouraging the sensations he was experiencing to flow between them, the softness of her lips against his, the warmth of her fingers as they moved along his chest, the building coiling warmth deep within his center. Her fingers grazed the aurodium barbell; he felt her tremble as she was hit with a wave of pleasure.

Concentrating he encouraged the flow of passion through the inadvertent bond they shared. While he kept the overeager, corruptive, sanity-stealing energies of the Dark Temple at bay. Adrik wrapped them, surrounded them, the warmth of their shared caresses, the growing sensations of their mutual want. He enveloped them, secured them in a bubble of comforting warmth.

She stopped moving, slightly pulling away, he cracked open an eye grinning, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He leaned up closing the small gap, rolling over he gently deposited her on top of the covers, next to him on the mattress. Outside lightning flashed, dancing across the night sky. Moments later thunder rolled.

Adrik's hand quickly unwrapped her black shirt, laying it open as his head dipped to kiss her neck. She moaned as her fingers clenched his unbound mane, her head tilting back into the covers as he slowly moved down the soft porcelain column, biting as he went.

Groaning she tightened her grip on his mane, head rolling to the side. Adrik continued to nip his way along her collarbone, pausing to kiss the hallow of her throat. He chuckled against her creamy skin, this was so much more entertaining than meditation and he was more than willing to help. One of the unexpected perks of being with a passion driven Sith.

Fingers again pulled at him, he growled protesting. A small chuckle fluttered across his chest, a warm breath parted the fur.

“Need more sleep.” He grumbled shifting on the mattress, throwing his arm over her bare back, fingers rubbing the soft skin.

“Thank you,” she murmured into his chest, her breath tickling.

“Anytime Babe.” He shifted closer to her, letting his body relax.

“It was harder than I expected.”

“Oh?” He pulled her closer.

“Yes, even with assistance, it was a challenging fight. We were victorious though.”

“So one less crasy Darth running around?”

“Yes.”

“That's a good thing right?”

“A very good thing, He was powerful and insane. Thrived off of fear, it clung to him like a foul, diseased-riddled cloud. It was thicker than the foul sludge that dominated Hutta. He had actually caused the deaths of thousands of innocent citizens.” She snuggled closer to him, fingers hooking around his side. “We were fortunate he never taught his daughter any of his abilities.”

“But,” he rumbled, still refusing to open his eyes. “The rogue Darth is dead? The crisis is adverted?”

“Yes he is.”

“Good,” he pulled her tighter, relishing in the warmth of her bare skin against his fur. “Good, now more sleep. Tell me all about the meeting and the fight after sleep. Someone wore me out.” She giggled as he leaned forward kissing the top of her head.

“More sleep,” she agreed.

“Good.” he exhaled allowing his body to relax, slipping back into the comforting darkness.

Prompt is Affection and kinda a morning after. Not really sure how long it is supposed to take to get from Korriban, so I decided it took a few hours.

I liked this one for that very reason. He is helping her; it is usually the other way around.

Year 3634 month 7

Sighing he rubbed his eyes, before pinching the bridge of his nose. A heavy exhale through dry lips as he dropped his hand, looking at the screen before him. Shaking his head he leaned back into the chair, rocking it backwards onto two legs. He had never dreamed he would find out so much, well he would if he could get past the damn security.

He had lost all sense of time, in this little office. He had come in here in the early morning hours after his very awkward yet enlightening fact finding mission; leaning forward he grabbed his luke warm cup of caf, frowning when the cool, slightly bitter liquid hit is tongue. His free hand hit the keyboard, pulling up the program that had been running for hours. Jonas had managed to actually locate information, buried deep in classified files way above his clearance level, on the Katayev's from Cathar. He had yet to actually be able to read it. All he had so far, was a file locked and encrypted over two decades ago, it was maddening. Jonas wanted to read what was in the damn file; he needed something to corroborate what Aric had told him on that ship.

Jonas had copied the entire file onto a separate datafile, keeping the original untouched and ignored deep within its forgotten location within the Services databanks. Fortunately the other agents had just left him alone. He did not know how much longer his luck would hold. After the past couple days he needed a break, he needed that damn program to slice the encryption so he could get the hell out of here. If it didn't break it soon he would have to take the encrypted datafile someplace else and attempt to slice it again. If he spent too much time in here, it would draw unwanted attention.

Swallowing the caf dregs, he hit a button pulling up a harmless looking screen of a partially filled out field report. If anyone glanced it would look mundane enough, effectively masking what he was truly working on. Or so he hoped; the front feet of his chair impacted the floor with a dull thud. Pushing back from the terminal he headed out in search of more caf.

Jonas stepped through the open door and followed the delightful smell of fresh brewed caf. Crossing the hall he ducked into another office. There against the wall, away from the other agents typing away at their respective desks, he spotted the machine. A couple heads swiveled in his direction when he entered, he held up his empty cup; they nodded almost in unison, heads dropping back to their work. Rolling his shoulders he set his cup on the small table turned counter. He picked up the caf carafe, pouring the steaming goodness into his cup. Nodding to the assorted bowed heads in the room he left, retreating back to his awaiting terminal. Maybe he would get lucky and it would have succeeded.

Blowing on the cup he sat back down in his chair. Gingerly he took a sip as he punched a key. A frustrated sigh blew past his lips; he watched the aruebesh flash across the screen. It was still working. His slicing program had never encountered such resistance before. What ever was in that file someone really didn't want it to ever see the light of day.

Taking another sip he executed another set of keystrokes, returning to his new favorite reading material, new and very educational material. Material that did nothing to eradicate the feeling that someone was laughing at him, material that detailed Kit's family.

Information on her was rather abbreviated. Jonas had the distinct feeling it had been altered. Whoever had sliced the files was very meticulous. If Jonas had not personally known her he would have never known details were missing. Little things like her position as a Darth occupying a seat on the Dark Council, her actual title, Darth Marr had called her Wrath. Jonas was going to add the information but the gnawing voice in the back of his head had prompted him to wait. Instead Jonas kept searching.

He had started searching through the infamous Sith List; the collected list of all known Darths, Sith Lords, Dark Council Members and rising apprentices, the more violent the Sith was the more likely they were to appear on the list. The List was constantly in flux, but it never diminished, even if it was learned a Sith was deceased, their status was updated but never removed.

Kit was nowhere to be found on the list. It was so irritating, how had she been removed? It had happened, somehow. Frustrated Jonas had started going through each individual file. He had stumbled across the image of a man that was the spitting image of Kit'ar. His name was Darth Chylon, and ambassador with Imperial Diplomatic Services. He had been born in thirty-six ninety-nine, and was still in active diplomatic service, though all of the planets he had been stationed on was simply gone. His file had also been altered.

Jonas had pushed past his frustration a couple hours ago, instead he had started digging, peace mealing what information he could, making a mental catalog of all the missing details he knew. Someone had been very thorough, leaving just enough to avoid raising anyone's suspicions. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Kiernan was missing from the List. Though Jonas had discovered a Zabrak Sith who was briefly apprenticed to Darth Chylon, named Tyzoth. The Zabrak was killed in a non-disclosed incident on Korriban. Apparently Tyzoth was a Mandalorian of some importance, a member of Clan Lok. Jonas made the mental note to research the clan; his knowledge of the mandos was rather limited. The Zabrak died rather young, only sixteen standard years old but he looked like Kiernan. Jonas suspected he was Kiernan's father; the details seemed to fit together, though if Kit was his mother, as Aric stated, she must have had him at a very young age.

Jonas blew on his hot cup of caf, resuming his search though the Service's files following his hunch that if there were Diplomatic ties to this whole mess, perhaps there might be unadulterated facts lurking out there, somewhere. He started scrolling through the HoloNet feeds from thirty-six fifty-four, the year before the Treaty and the year young Tyzoth died. He stopped the feed; there was the image of Darth Chylon and an unknown Sith. Jonas zoomed in, sharpening the image. The unknown Sith looked to be young, he was a Pureblood, his facial ridges adorned with gold jewelry. He possessed green eyes, which seemed unusual and his dark red hair was cut short. He was walking shoulder to shoulder with the Darth; something about the image struck Jonas. He kept staring at it as he drank his caf.

“Oh Stars,” he muttered. The body language, the way they were walking as equals, could that young man be the Darth's son?

Jonas pulled up the List, quickly scrolling through the extensive file. He found what he was looking for, a small abbreviated page on a young Sith Pureblood, a Lord Cinis; red skin, minimal facial ridges, dark red hair and green eyes, the same man from the holo. The young Sith Lord had died in thirty-six fifty-three and was the apprentice of Darth Sari.

Scratching his head Jonas pulled up the file on Sari. She was a Pureblood, angular face, dark red skin, a lovely woman actually. Thick raven black hair crowned her head, tumbling down her back; pointed brow ridges highlighted her yellow eyes. Dark violet makeup graced her lips and shadowed her eyes. Jonas looked at her trying to commit her image to memory while dissecting her face. There were similarities between her and the young Sith. Jonas wondered just how strongly nepotism ran in the family, he had a suspicion it was commonplace.

Even though he didn't see any huge familiar resemblance between Kit'ar and Darth Sari, he did see the resemblance between Kit'ar and Darth Chylon. Jonas also saw the resemblance between Chylon and Cinis, the red hair and green eyes stood out on the red-skinned Pureblood. Jonas realized that he had discovered Kit's family, her parents were Chylon and Sari, her brother was Cinis.

Jonas continued reading, surprisingly Sari's file appeared to be intact, born on Dromund Kaas in thirty-six ninety-four. Apparently she also worked for Imperial Diplomatic Services, “Damn it,” he breathed. Her file had also been tampered with, all her assignments were gone, though it was noted she was killed in thirty-six sixty-one, under mysterious circumstances. Jonas scratched his head, according to this she wasn't actively involved in the military and diplomats, even Sith ones, didn't normally die during their assignments.

The circumstances surrounding her death were aggravatingly absent; there was a small notation, a Cathar named Vetrov, Jedi Knight Vetrov had discovered her body. Had she not been killed by another Sith but a Jedi? Did she and this Knight have some falling out? Why would she even be talking to a Jedi? Who was this Jedi related to that he would be speaking to an Imperial diplomat?

Jonas pulled up another screen, a couple keystrokes later he was looking at an image of Knight Vetrov. He was an older Cathar, typical in stature and colouring, broad shouldered, spotted cheeks and dark mane. He was born on Cathar in thirty-seven twenty. Jonas took another sip, scowling at the screen. What was their connection?

A subtle beep filled the air. Minimizing the screen he switched to the newly completed slicing program. “Alright lets see what someone worked so hard to keep hidden,” Jonas muttered as he punched a key, opening the decades old file.

Some of the data had degraded but overall it was pretty clean; detailing the members of Clan Katayev, the seat of their power located in the ancient Tree City of Katin and images of the massive sprawling Krrul Vineyard, the pride of the Clan and their ancestral home. Blue eyes skimmed the foreign names, his eyes latching onto Adrik Katayev. Jonas' eyes widened as he clicked on the name and the young blue-eyed face of a Cathar kit appeared. Age that face twenty years and it was Aric. Jonas exhaled a shaky breath, the boy was born in thirty-six seventy; that was Aric's birth-year. He was a Prince and heir to a powerful Cathar named Shange. According to the dated file the boy had received training on Tython under royal guard and the watchful eyes of his mother Master Rayna Katayev and his grandfather. He had since been moved back to Cathar, to continue his training under Master Rayna and …

“Oh no,” he breathed, staring at the screen. “No, no,” Jonas looked at the open doorway. “No,” he muttered, he needed to get out of here, to read this someplace safe. This was Aric's family, the Cathar had been telling the truth. This was huge, a lot bigger than Jonas expected, he never actually thought Aric had been telling the truth. Jonas knew Aric believed he was telling the truth about his family being abducted, but Jonas had thought the details planted in his head, some seed placed there during his bout with amnesia. He was wrong Aric was telling the truth, from the small amount that Jonas had read, the names were matching up with what Aric had told him in that bedroom.

Jonas shook his head, he needed to get out of here, edit the information he had stumbled across. The way the pieces were falling together he could not just hand it over to Aric. Oh Stars what in the nine Hells was he going to do? Jonas immediately closed the file, extracting the decrypted datafile from the terminal and pulling out his dataspike with his treasured slicing program, slipping them into his pants pocket. Quickly he closed all the other programs, nothing incriminating if anyone decided to look at the terminal's history. But Jonas was not going to take any chances.

Loudly he cursed, “Damn it,” dropping the cup onto the terminal and the front of his dark blue shirt. The terminal sparked as the screen went black. Jonas shoved a small dataspike into the open port and twisted, sparks arched as smoke spilled out. Yanking the tiny spike out he dropped it into his boot as he stood. Grumbling, he set the mug down to the smoking terminal, brushing hot caf off his chest. He left the room muttering about bad luck and needing to change his shirt.

As Jonas stepped into the cool Coruscante evening he hurried to the Starport. He needed to get home; his apartment on Nar Shaddaa was secure. There he could go over the data on that file. He shuddered his skin pr.i.c.k.ling, Aric had always been a bit passionate, but he had a grasp on that temper. Jonas had seen firsthand how that control had degraded; shivering he rubbed his arms as he quickened his step. He could still feel the heat radiating from that scorched durasteel wall. Jonas had no idea how he was going to tell Aric what he had found, and he still hadn't read the file in its entirety. He was terrified he would actually feel the brunt of that lightning. He wrapped his arms tighter. The Maker only knew that else he was going to find learn, hopefully he would find something remotely positive in that file.

Prompt: Public Record

I hope all the backstory/ history wasn't boring or to much of a repeat. It seemed to be the best way to have Jonas discover Aric's background and confirm what he was told on the ship.

I'll let you all guess who altered the records on Kit and family.

As per who amended the records... The Chiss spy perhaps? If you follow the agent story, she might have been in a good position for that. Ka'van is on this side too but I do not remember anything about him having slicing/hacking skills. Or Aric himself when he was still on this side. Will we know? Otherwise you can just tell me, I won't say.

Going to be a bit before we get to visit Jonas again. I think you might like what he is going to do though.

Yepper! you are correct, it is my Chiss Spy.

Year 3634 month 7

Adrik stretched rolling his shoulders. Stifling a yawn he placed the datapad he was reading down on the bed. He still hadn’t heard anyone return to the ship, dropping his feet over the edge of the mattress he decided to find out, the old fashioned way, he was going to go look.

He walked out of the bedroom, into the common area; Vette was sitting at the table reading. “Hey, your back.”

She looked up, beaming at him, “Hey there. Jy'lith and I got back a few minutes ago, he's in the galley doing somethin'.” She jerked her head towards the portside. “So where are you goin'?” She chirped.

“Nowhere really, was wondering what was going on out here,” he shrugged.

“Well Kit’s up on the bridge talking to Pierce.”

He glanced at the open doorway, nodding. “When did you guys get back?”

“Oh a few minutes ago, not long at all. We thought you were asleep.”

He shook his head, “I was actually reading,” he gestured to the datapad in her hand, “What are you reading?”

“Oh,” she smiled, “it is a monthly newsletter from the Imperial Reclamation Service, it’s amazing what you can find out in here.”

“Imperial Reclamation Service?” he echoed.

“Yeap,” she smiled, “nothing beats going after dusty old artifacts.”

“Really? Anything interesting in there?” He asked, sitting next to her eyeing the datapad.

“Always, they have unearthed some interesting Sith tombs on Dathomir,” her eyes glittered, “wanna go?”

“And do what?” he asked.

“Find some fun.” Vette winked.

“You mean trouble don’t you,” he sighed.

She laughed, “Thought they were interchangeable.”

He looked at her and shook his head. He sat down next to her, “Show me more.” Vette beamed and scooted closer to him so he could see the small screen.

Kit’ar walked off the bridge and smiled at them as she passed, “What are the two of you up to?” Kit paused by the table.

“Just showing Adrik the latest Reclamation newsletter, they unearthed some more tombs.”

“Really? What system?”

“Ohh, Dathomir.” Vette bit her lip as she answered.

“Dathomir...”

“Well yes, Pierce and I were talking, thought it might be an interesting little side trip. It has been a while since we have done anything fun.” Vette looked up at Kit her purple eyes brimming with hope.

Adrik watched the two women. Kit crossed her arms across her chest, he could see the 'no' forming on her lips. He was struck with the half forgotten memory to humor the blue one; Vette was most definitely blue. What could possibly be on Dathomir? Adrik leaned forward, glancing at the datapad in Vette's hands. “It does look interesting.”

“Oh yes, its interesting alright.” Kit scowled, “Why, do you want to go?” She shifted her attention to Adrik.

He shrugged keeping his attention on the datapad, “Oh I don't know, might be a much needed distraction, a good way to blow off some steam after the past few days.” He looked up at her, “Are you against going?”

Her frown deepened. “It's not my idea of an ideal vacation.”

“Could we go?” Adrik gently pressed.

Kit rolled her eyes sighing, her hands dropped to her side. “You get your wish Vette.”

Vette’s eyes sparkled, “Really? You are awesome, you know that.”

Kit looked at her and smiled, “I have been told that once or twice.”

“Well,” Vette smiled, “it’s the truth, you are the best.”

Kit's smile faded and shook her head as she gave Adrik a questioning look, he just shrugged and went back to looking at the datapad.

“Vette, what are the two of you up to?” she asked.

“Us? Nothing. Just thought we could do something fun and I'm going to teach him something useful. I’m going to show him the finer points of tomb exploration.” Adrik looked up at Kit without moving his head, he winked and went back to the datapad.

“Alright, well please teach him to avoid the cranky Force ghosts, the obvious traps, the unobvious traps and get him up to speed on the nightsisters.”

“Ohhh yeah,” Vette agreed, “they would fight over him and cart him off wouldn’t they.”

At that he lifted up his head and looked at Vette, “What?”

Vette started laughing her lekku twitching, he looked at the Darth, “What’s so funny.”

Kit smirked at him, and gestured to Vette, “She started this she gets to finish it.” She looked over at Vette, “Make sure you tell him everything important about that rock, I will not be amused if I have to go and retrieve him.”

“Of course my Lord,” Vette fired off a sloppy salute around her giggles. She punched a couple keys on the datapad and handed it to Adrik, “Read up.”

Adrik watched Kit'ar pivot on her foot, changing her course and walk back to the bridge. “Vette, what’s a nightsister?”

She smiled, “Read the datapad and then I will answer questions. It will be easier that way. I’m going to get a snack, you want anything, it’s going to be a while before we arrive there.”

He nodded, “Yeah I need a drink and I’m hungry, what snack are you getting?”

Vette shrugged, “Oh, I don’t know, I will look and see what we have and bring you back something.”

“K,” he said as he returned his attention back to the datapad.

She returned a short time later, with a couple cold beers and a bowl of popped corn smothered in butter and salt. “I like your idea of a snack,” he said. He grabbed one of the beers and cracked it open, holding it up to her, he nodded his head to her, “Thank you.”

She handed him one, “You mind?”

“Not at all,” he slipped this tumbclaw under the lip, opening the bottle, he handed it back to her smiling.

“So what do you think of them so far?” she asked taking a sip.

“They are scary.” Adrik looked at her.

“That they are, regular creepy ladies.”

“And we are going to encounter them?” He frowned.

“Oh there is a good chance yes.”

“Huh,” he looked up at her. “So its really true, these women enslave the men?”

“Yeah, it is.” Vette took a deep pull off her bottle. “You boys are going to have to be careful. Pretty sure she plans to bring everyone, leave the droid on the ship with it on standby in case we have to cut and run.” She was grinning.

“You really enjoy this don’t you?” he asked taking a pull off his beer.

“Oh yeah, I love it, love the credits even more.” She grabbed a handful of popped corn and started popping them into her mouth one at a time.

He shook his head and took another drink. “So avoid the nightsisters, lovely bunch too it’s a shame, they are Force sensitive and enslave their men, they sound like a blast.”

Vette shrugged, “We could drop you off there for a vacation if you want.”

He shuddered, “No thank you, okay Teach what else should I avoid.”

“Oh their pets,” she grinned and took another drink.

He took another drink and shook his head. “Pets? Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not but I’m going to tell you, I’m not going to be the one who is going to have to inform Kit that you got carried off by a bump in the night.” Vette took another drink and punched another entry into the datapad.

Adrik leaned back rubbing the bridge of his nose, his eyes were getting tired, he had not read this much text in months. He heard the sound of heavy footsteps enter the room off the bridge they slowed behind him. “Adrik,” the low rumbling greeting filled the room.

“Hey Pierce,” Adrik opened his eyes and looked at the large man.

“What are you up to?” he nodded to the datapad in Adrik’s hand.

“Oh,” Adrik answered, “I’m reading up on the sights and attractions of Dathomir, it sounds like a great vacation site.” Pierce chuckled and pulled up a chair next to him. Adrik motioned to one of the beers on the table, “Help yourself, they are getting warm though.”

Pierce mumbled, “It’s wet ‘n thank you.”

“No problem, you been here before?”

“Nope,” Pierce shook his head, “new place same thing, as long as I get to see some action I’ll be happy. Things have been a bit slow.”

Taking another drink he shoved the datapad over to Pierce, “Look at the size of those things, those rancors are huge.”

“Yeah,” Pierce grinned, “not really lookin' forward to tanglin' with one.”

Adrik looked at the screen, “You know Vette is wanting to try to get an egg, that girl is insane.”

“Oh now that’s an idea I’ll get behind think of the credits,” Pierce took another pull off his beer, his dark eyes shining. “Hutts pay well. Where is Vette?” Pierce asked looking around.

“Oh my teacher wandered off to bed a while ago, Jy'lith collected her, she took the popped corn with her,” he frowned.

“Yeah she does that, need to watch her,” Pierce grinned and killed his beer. He clapped Adrik on the shoulder. “Headed to bed. Get some sleep, we will be there in the morning and it’s going to be a long day.” Pierce walked off down the dimly lit corridor and into the crew’s barracks. Adrik turned his attention back to his datapad, putting the machine into sleep mode so he could continue reading in the morning and headed to bed.

The next morning, Kit nudged him out of his sound sleep, “Wake up hon, it’s time to go exploring.” He growled his protest and rolled over to look at her. She was grinning, already dressed in her armor, partially obscured by her black robe, hood up.

“Okay,” he rumbled, “I’m up, I’m up, can you please get me come caf?”

She leaned over kissing him. “It will be waiting for you.”

Stretching he rolled out of the bed and into the refresher. Quickly he went through his morning ritual, brushing his teeth and combing his mane with record quickness; he wanted his caf. Blindly he grabbed clothes from the armoire, changing as he pulled his boots on, slipping his back-up blaster into his boot as he clicked his saber onto his belt. Running his fingers through his mane, he secured it at the nape of his neck.

The aroma hit him as he entered the common area, laid out on the table was breakfast. Grabbing a warm biscuit, he headed onto the bridge to find a cup and the caf.

The bridge was packed; everyone was milling around getting caf and talking, the excitement in the air was electric. Apparently it had been a long time since they actually had something to do. Adrik stalked up behind Kit, he wrapped his arms around her careful not to get biscuit on her robes. He grabbed her caf cup and growled into her ear, “Thanks for the caf,” she turned around to protest. He winked, kissing her lower lip before she could voice her protests, he deepened the kiss and she melted into him, she tasted of caf and sugar. He rumbled, “Morning.” Taking a drink he grinned down at her.

“Suppose I deserve that,” she muttered, making a halfhearted grab to reclaim her cup.

He kissed her forehead. “Here,” he winked; he killed the mug and handed it back to her.

“Oh thank you,” she said dryly.

He chuckled, walking over to the desk that housed the carafe and spare mugs, bolting down his biscuit he picked up a mug and the carafe and brought them back to her.

“Here,” he filled up her mug and his.

“Oh me, me,” Vette chimed in and pushed her mug in his direction, he obediently filled her glass. Behind her Jy'lith smiled extending his empty mug.

“Anyone else,” he asked holding the carafe up.

“Well if you are offering,” Pierce extended his arm as well, an empty mug in his grasp.

Filling the mug Adrik shrugged, “I like to moonlight as a butler.”

“Please Adrik, I would like a refill,” Jaesa stepped next to him holding out her empty mug.

“But of course,” he smiled at her filling her mug. She smiled up at him and left the bridge to go eat breakfast. “Kit have you eaten?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Okay,” Adrik smiled and left the bridge.

Adrik paused while putting food on the plate, looking up at Pierce's approaching form, he had been layering warmed nerf between biscuit halves for Kit.

Pierce walked out of the bridge and over to the table, as he busied himself loading a plate up with nerf, biscuits, bantha sausages, pan-seared potato hash, he muttered, “Where are the eggs?” Pierce looked at Jaesa who was lounging on the common room’s couch, plate of food balanced in her lap as she reviewed a datapad, “Jaesa you know where the eggs are?”

She looked up at him and shrugged, “I never saw any Pierce but they sound really good, I like scrambled.”

Pierce nodded, “Adrik you want eggs?” he looked at Adrik.

“Eggs sound good yea.”

“Good how ya want ‘um?” he rumbled.

“I’m not picky” Adrik answered.

“Too-Veeee,” Pierce’s yell rumbled and echoed off the walls. The droid shuffled out of the kitchen area and started moving to them. “We need eggs, scrambled and over easy.”

“Yes of course,” the droids tinny voice answered, “Right way sir.” He shuffled back into the kitchen.

The smell of eggs reached Adrik as the droid entered the common area, “Eggs as requested, hope everything meets your expectations.” Too-Vee shuffled over and laid a serving platter on the table.

Pierce grabbed the spoon and helped himself to a huge helping of eggs. The large man went to the table and sat down. “Did you finish reading up on the planet last night?”

“Almost,” Adrik answered, “was going to finish while I ate. Let me get Kit her breakfast.” He scooped some steaming scrambled eggs onto her plate put the lids on the sandwiches and took the plate to the bridge. She was bent over the navcomputer talking to Vette. He laid a hand on her arm and motioned to the desk. She nodded and smiled reaching down to grab a sandwich as he left the room.

The air smelled ominous; he inhaled the foreign atmosphere. It was dark, humid, brimming with countless new odors that assaulted him from the lush forest surrounding them, and it was tinged with something he could not identify. In the distance he heard the howling of local wildlife. Hundreds of old, fading and new sent trails crisscrossed the air around him. Light trickled down through the canopy casting freckled shadows over the crew and the ship. Vette had found a large piece of exposed bedrock in the shelter of a forest clearing, after setting down the ship they had cautiously disembarked, leaving the droid on board to watch the Chimera. The ship hummed in hibernation, at the ready.

Adrik looked up at the expansive canopy above him, the trees were old, tall but twisted, thick with heavy ancient branches. He looked back at the crew, they hovered around Vette looking at her datapad studying the determined path to the newly unearthed series of tombs. Closing his eyes he reached out, brushing against Kit. He heard her inhale and a light pressure brushed against his arm. He grinned, motioning to a nearby tree and then pointing to the sky. Smiling she nodded her agreement. Cracking his knuckles and stretching his fingers, he launched himself at the thick bark. His claws scraped against the wood as he found purchase and scaled the tree. He eased himself up onto a thick branch squatting as he gripped it between his knees. Scanning the expansive skyline he could see their objective; there off in the distance was the monumental pyramid, mostly over grown by the encroaching forests.

He looked down, and noticed she was staring up at him her hand up shielding her eyes from the sun. He pointed in the pyramids direction, she followed his arm and commented to the gathered crew. From this distance their voices were gentle murmurs lost and overpowered by the local fauna. He crept along the branch scanning the canopy and the ground, deciphering and learning the foreign forest's sounds. Pausing roughly fifty meters from them he waited for them to start moving, he did not want to inadvertently put too much distance between him and the crew.

Slowly they moved out, he noticed Pierce and Vette disappeared to the front, he was impressed at how well they vanished into the forest. Kit’ar and Jaesa moved shoulder-to-shoulder, Jy'lith walking closely behind. The trek to the pyramid was rather slow and uneventful; it slowly came into view, the structure massive. It cut a swath out of the forest, the sharp lines of the ancient building proudly jutting up past the ancient forest’s canopy. He sat on his haunches and admired the view, the sharp angles of the building reaching for the heavens, the stone seemed untouched by the ravages of time, the forest itself seemed to respect its space, the forest’s growth just stopped outside the building’s clearing, as if it dared not grow in its territory. Taking a deep look he let himself truly see; surrounding the building, bathing it and its grounds in a swirling smoldering blanket was the smoky seductive pulse of the dark side.

There was something else as well, he kept reaching, he felt them off to their side, to their left, to the southwest. Adrik reached out brushing against her. Kit's eyes latched onto him, as her movement stilled. Adrik held his hand up in a fist, his wrist even with his shoulder. Reaching out he felt them again, there were five of them, he felt the Force flowing around them. They were getting closer; it felt like five somethings. He held up all five digits as he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. Kit nodded, pulling her saber to herself. Jaesa mirroring her master's actions.

He heard the sound of blasters and a rifle charging. As the sound of branches snapping, crunching underfoot reached his ears, a pungent overwhelming odor hit his nostrils, inhaling the beast’s stench he roared. He pulled his feet under himself, grabbing the thick bark with his clawed hands he ran along the branch towards the beast.

The somethings entered the clearing roughly eighty meters away from the rest of the crew, five woman walked in a semi circle, in front of a massive rancor. The damn beast had to be at least ten meters tall. He studied them, they were talking to each other, searching for something. They were garbed in black, skin tight vests and pants, some had bare arms, their pale white skin covered in dark markings and armor. They carried long single bladed axes, wicked looking things. The one that walked closest to the rancor had large ornamental spikes coming off her shoulders, a wide brimmed hat hid her face, in her hand was a large lance, the three barbed head was balanced with a studded spike on the butt, it sparked and pulsed with electricity as she moved. The group of women had to be nightsisters.

He felt a pressure against his arm, as he looked back towards Kit he swallowed a growl of frustration, she was subtly shaking her head no. He wanted to move closer, get into a better position. Slowly the women entered the clearing heading towards the crew, so far the women had not made any moves that indicated they knew the crew was there. Adrik shifted his position on the branch, anxious. The women moved into the clearing, passing completely under him he frowned and began to retrace his steps along the ancient branch quietly pacing them.

A shout went out among the women as the crew was finally noticed; the sisters fanned out scanning the clearing. He felt the Force around them thicken. His claws gripped the bark in anger. The one closest to the rancor moved, her lance sparking as she walked to the front of the circle. She motioned past Kit'ar and Jaesa to Jy'lith. The group of night sisters advanced. Adrik increased his pace, running along the branch when the branch ended at the tree’s trunk he leapt to the next branch landing soundlessly. This was insane, why was she waiting? They had not seen him yet; he could take out that damn beast. He felt another Force-fueled touch, growling he came to a stop. Rolling his eyes he sat on his haunches and waited.

The women advanced, two of them broke off disappearing into the forest. He had a horrible feeling about this. The remaining three drew closer to Kit. The one with the lance stepped in front of her sisters and motioned to Kit'ar, the woman's head moved to the thick undergrowth, to where Vette and Pierce had disappeared. Kit shook her head no. This was maddening he was too far away to hear but he did not dare give away his position. He closed his eyes and inhaled trying to smell Vette and Pierce. Frack, the wind was still, he was not able to pick them out.

The sound of a saber activating drew his attention, Kit had ignited her’s, she was growing angry. She did not want to attack them though; Adrik was so damn confused. A strangled cry crept out of the forest, Vette. They had Vette, Adrik growled. He watched Kit’ar shake her head no, and the clearing erupted. Kit’ar screamed and launched herself in the direction of Vette's scream, Jaesa ignited her saber and attacked the lance carrying nightsister. Adrik did not see Pierce and that worried him, from what he had read about the nightsisters, it really worried him. Shrill screams echoed through the clearing as the remaining two nightsisters charged towards Kit'ar. Adrik growled.

Drawing his saber he lowered into a crouch, parallel to the thick tree branch. Drawing on the raw emotions flowing off the fighting below, he launched off the branch a bloodcurdling battle cry on his lips. As he flew through the air he flipped, igniting his saber he directed his feet towards the nightsister who was going after Jy'lith. When he landed on her, a stomach-churning, sickening crunch met his ears. He rolled off of her using the momentum from the jump to get clear of her body. He moved his saber up in front of his body, deflecting the sister’s axe. He scowled; the damn weapon could not be cut by a saber, interesting. Growling he brought his saber up over his head, he kicked out as he lowered his body to one knee spinning the saber at her midsection as he dropped. He felt the satisfying thunk of body hitting body as he kicked her leg out from under her. He brought the saber to her throat and slammed his foot into her stomach. She groaned under him, he switched his grip on the hilt holding it in both hands and plunged it into her chest.

Pausing he glanced at Jy'lith, the lethan Twi'lek was sitting on the ground shaking, back propped up against a large boulder. Reaching out Adrik pulled the Twi'lek's dropped blaster to his hand. Pulling the saber out of the nightsister's corpse he ran to Jy'lith's side. “Stay here,” he growled, “out of sight.” Jy'lith nodded grabbing the blaster from Adrik's outstretched arm.

Roaring, Adrik ran towards Jasea who was still fighting against the lance-wielding leader. He watched as the leader brought the lance back behind her, the weapon held parallel to the ground, the pole flickering with electricity. Jaesa countered bringing her saber up in line to block the incoming electricity. Adrik yelled, “Jaesa!” She pulled her legs up, under her and flipped away from the sister and landed near Adrik. As the bolt of electricity shot out of the barbed tip Adrik threw his own yellow lightning at the woman, catching the bolt and stunning the nightsister. “Kit,” he yelled breathless.

Jaesa pointed in the direction they had heard the scream, “Still that way I think.”

Adrik nodded and ran. He plunged into the forest, he found Kit’ar bent over tending to an injured Vette. She was lying in a pool of blood, her head was bleeding, her blasters missing. Lying next to them was the crumpled nearly dismembered body of a nightsister. “Vette,” he gasped.

Vette looked at him and gave him a weak smile. “They don’t fight fair,” she complained.

He looked at Kit’ar, “Can she be moved?”

Kit nodded, “Yes. But I can’t do it.”

He noticed Kit'ar was holding her side. “Damn it woman,” he growled. He heard Vette giggle. “Come on up.” He helped his Mate to her feet. Bending down he gently scooped the injured Twi’lek into his arms. “Pierce?” He asked the two women, they both shook their heads, his bad feeling deepened to one of dread.

Walking out of the clearing he noticed Jaesa had subdued the leader. Jeasa held her down, saber at the nightsister's throat, the woman’s arm lying at an impossible angle. He hurried into the clearing; seeking a bare patch of ground. Vette was losing color, her normally vibrant blue was turning grey.

Jy'lith ran to meet them, “What happened?” He looked from Kit’ar to Adrik.

“Vette needs medical attention.” Adrik grunted.

Jy'lith opened up his med pac and pulled out a shinny reflective blanket, shaking it out he laid in on the forest floor, motioning to it. Adrik gently laid Vette down, Jy'lith bent to work wiping blood away with clean towels. “Oh no,” Jy'lith muttered. He had opened up her jacket and her blouse, down her side and across her stomach were deep cuts, blood was pumping out of her in cadence to her heartbeat.

Adrik leaned over the Twi’lek and held her hand. “Can you make the bleeding stop?”

Numbly Jy'lith nodded, “I have kolto but this,” he gestured to her side and abdomen, “requires a tank.”

They both knew what that meant so far away from the ship, it had taken them hours to reach this clearing. “Make the bleeding stop.”

Jy'lith numbly nodded, as he opened the kolto packs, applying them to the cuts on her scalp and lekku, gingerly he applied medical-strips to the deep incisions on her sides and stomach before he applied the remaining kolto patches.

Vette grabbed Adrik, her hands shaking. “Is it going to hurt?” Vette whispered.

He smiled, “I don't know,” he whispered. Adrik squeezed her hand, as she nodded her head, gritting her teeth.

Adrik held her hand and laid his other on her kolto bandaged stomach, as he closed his eyes he heard footsteps. He reached out, grasping what he could of the Force, the Force here was so smoky and dark. Taking a deeper breath he reached into the depths of the rampantly running emotions, Kit's turbulent concern, Jy'lith's heady fear, the broken nightsister's flaming rage. He felt his arms shudder and the collected energy started to pull against him. Slowly he allowed it to manifest. It started along his shoulders, yellow lightning sparking and smoking, flowing down his arms and into Vette, flowing over, encapsulating her and Adrik. Vette twitched, she moved under his fingers; murmuring under his breath he tried to ask her to be still. He heard faint murmured gasps. Focusing he recalled the sensation he had felt on the floor of that damned hanger on Tatooine; he funneled all the energy into Vette's body. A warmth and yellow glow permeated the fog-coated world he was kneeling in.

A long lost skill was forcing itself through the foggy darkness of forgotten memories; it sharpened, demanding his attention. He could do this; he knew this. Focusing he sought out her injuries; Vette's left side had been cut from her back shoulder blade and down to her hip bone, the gash was up to ten centimeters in depth. The stomach was deeper, surveying the damage he gasped and cursed. The only thing preventing her from being completely disemboweled was the length of the cut it was a mere fifteen centimeters but incredibly deep, hitting her stomach and intestines. He focused on her stomach channeling everything to try to repair her sliced and ruptured organs. Slowly he felt them knit back together; he was getting lightheaded, the ground was beginning to spin under him. He growled, making his body obey, he heard voices in the distance but he ignored them.

Finally she felt whole. He opened his eyes. Yellow lightning still danced along them. Vette was staring at him violet eyes wide. “Oh wow, Adrik,” the Twi’lek gasped.

“Jy'lith she will need something to prevent infection,” Adrik stopped talking, that was a mistake, talking was a mistake; he felt the world shift. He brought his hand to his head. The world started spinning again.

“Adrik!” he heard Vette yell, he collapsed on top of her.

Warm hands were pulling at him. He tried to focus on the hands, the voices, but he was not able. No, he could not pass out he had to find Pierce. He tried to fight, but the hands were holding him. Soft hands touched his head, picked it up, then his head was resting on something hard. He smelled ozone and herbs; he relaxed slightly.

“Pierce,” he managed to croak. “Where is he?”

The voices murmured. He felt Kit speak, “He is gone.”

Adrik’s eyes shot open; he looked up. Kit was cradling his head in her lap head as she bent over him, frowning. “Gone?”

“They took him Adrik.”

“Have to get him, they will...” Adrik’s voice gave out.

Jy'lith spoke in the distance, “Shouldn't be moved.”

“Vette…” Adrik growled his throat on fire, “Vette is fine, I fixed her.”

Vette answered from elsewhere in the fog, “He’s right, I feel fantastic. That lightning felt amazing, all tingly.”

“Adrik,” Kit's voice, he looked up and smiled. “Are you simply tired, drained? After rest will you be able to move?”

He stared at her, then remembered she had not see it before, she was dead. He shuddered in her arms. “Tired,” he gasped, lying.

“Jy'lith can we risk giving him some adrenals? He is right, we do need to get moving or Pierce might be … unrecoverable.” Kit'ar's fingers ran through his mane.

Adrik felt a biting sting in his arm and the fog started to clear, the deadness in his limbs lessened. He managed to sit up and look around. Vette was sitting next to him, beaming, covered in dried blood but alert. Adrik blinked looking around, Jy'lith was kneeling next to them, concern radiating off him in waves. Jaesa still stood a distance away foot on the throat of the leader; she tilted her head staring at him. He gave a small shake of his head, Jaesa nodded returning her attention to the woman under her foot.

Getting his feet under him Adrik pushed off the ground with his hands and stood on shaky legs. Looking around he rubbed his eyes. He saw the glint of his saber on the ground and pulled the hilt to him. Clicking it on his belt he motioned to Jaesa, “The witch tell you guys where they took him?” He took a step forward and almost fell to the forest floor.

Kit’ar grabbed him and pulled him to her. “Easy there,” she held him up supporting his weight. Leaning his head against her he nuzzled her cheek. “Won’t do for you to seriously hurt yourself.” She scolded him.

His legs became steadier, he slowly moved away from Kit's embrace, heading toward Jaesa and the prone nightsister. “Where did they take him?” he asked Jaesa.

“I don’t know she is not talking,” Jaesa muttered.

“Oh,” he snarled, “I can fix that.”

Kit walked up next to him. She looked at the nightsister. “Where did you take him. Tell me or you will regret it.” The nightsister laughed. She stared at them, contempt and hate smoldering in her eyes. “Go ahead,” she gestured to Adrik. He reached out, sending golden lightning arching into her body. She screamed and tried to roll away but her broken body would not comply. Adrik dropped his hands and Kit leaned over the sister. “Now tell me or you will get another tender caress from my Mate, if you tell me, your wounds could be healed enough for you to make it home.”

The sister stared at Adrik, he could read the contemplation on her face. She moved her gaze to Kit and nodded, her unbroken hand gesturing to the south. “Home,” she uttered in broken Basic.

Kit stared down at the broken nightsister, then she motioned to Jy'lith, beckoning him over. “Heal her.” Jy'lith frowned begrudgingly kneeling next the nightsister. His fingers flew as he pulled out a medical scanner and ran it over the crumpled woman. It beeped in protest. He looked up at Kit, frowning. “Just enough.” He scowled, grunting in reply but removed a green kolto filled vial from his medical bag. Jy'lith injected the green fluid into her arm; the nightsister jumped. She slowly moved on the ground.

Jaesa deactivated her saber, removing her foot and stepping backwards. The nightsister's arm hung awkwardly at her side but the twisted broken angles were gone, it would be useable again. She moved to her knees and pointed in the direction they had to take. Reaching down she grabbed the lance that had fallen near her body. She picked it up bowing her head. Standing she brought her cradled her arm across her chest as she turned melting into the shadows.

“Well we had better get moving, before she tells them we are coming.” Kit motioned for them to move out.

He fell into step beside his Mate, whispering he looked at her, “Do you think we will get there in time.”

“I hope so, Adrik I hope so.” They moved as quickly as possible in the thick forest, the path the rancor had created helped. Adrik followed its scent as they walked. After roughly an hour they came across a village nestled into the forest, up above the sun was beginning to set. He looked at Kit, she was staring at the village; eyes gold, her lips a thin line.

“Master,” Jaesa spoke quietly, “I don’t know if it would be wise to wait for nightfall.”

Kit turned to regard her, “You might be right. I’d rather get in and get out, he’s already been with them for two hours.”

Adrik stared at her, “Two hours?”

“Yes,” Jy'lith answered, “What you did for Vette, and after could not move you, you were non responsive.”

Adrik stomach knotted, two hours, who knew what they were doing to Pierce? He shuddered. “I’m going in,” Adrik muttered.

“Jasea go with him, I’m going to stay here, protect the others.”

“No,” Adrik whispered, “I’m going to get him, I can smell him.” Adrik stepped closer lowing his voice, “I think it’s best if a man finds him. Who knows what they have been doing to him.” Kit nodded her consent.

Jaesa moved next to him, “Go quickly, may the Force be with you.”

“You too,” he replied as he slipped off the path, disappearing into the forest. He quickly picked a path down to the village, he smelled people everywhere, the stench of rancors assaulted his senses. He stopped every few meters, smelling, trying to get a location on Pierce. “Got ya,” he muttered, the Human's muddled musky sent tickled his nose. Slowly he crept toward the hut. Ducking behind a tree he waited for the sounds in the area to die down, the sun was lowering in the sky. Gradually the dull thrum of activity lessened; it sounded like everyone was gathering in another part of the village. Creeping closer to the hut he listened, silence the only sound. Reaching out he only detected one painfully weak being nearby. Stifling an angry growl he once again inhaled, head tilted back, no new scents came back to him. Picking a shielded path to the hut’s low lying window, he crept beneath it. Peering up over the sill, into the dim interior, he saw a figure hanging, suspended by his hands chained over his head.

Grabbing the sill he quietly jumped into the hut, he landed by the window and lowered himself near the ground. Nothing moved. Quietly he crept up behind the man. It was Pierce, he was hanging naked his feet dangling, his arms suspended over his head by rope and chains. Large bruises and bloody scratches covered his body. His breathing was labored. Pausing by the base of Pierce's prison Adrik looked around the room, locating Pierce’s armor near the door. “Pierce,” he hissed. “Pierce. Lieutenant,” he growled.

That got a reaction, the large man growled, opening a blackened swollen eye. “Ohh hhey thereee kitttyy.”

Kitty, Adrik thought, cute. Well he was obviously drugged. “Pierce can you function?”

“Yess m’ lorrrd kitttyy,” he slurred.

Adrik rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I'm gonna get you down.”

“Oookayyy Looordd kittyyyy Sirrrr,” Pierce's head flopped as he tried to salute from suspended hands.

Shaking his head, Adrik jumped up on the pole, “Try to land quietly.” His claws sliced through the rope. Pierce’s body hit the ground with a loud thud. Adrik jumped to the ground, and rolled Pierce over onto his back, claws cutting through the ropes that bound his feet. Pierce's hands were shackled by rusty chains, Adrik stared at the filthy length of chain; his hand moved to his boot and paused. No that would create too much noise, he pulled out his saber, “Pierce hold your hands apart and don’t move.” The large man listed to the side, trying to comply. Slowly Pierce raised his hands over his head, his arms jerking. Adrik quickly ignited the saber and cut the chains. Extinguishing the blade he ran to the pile of armor and started grabbing.

Pierce was trying to stand but his limbs would not work. “Sirrrr sorrryyy, Sirrr, trryyyin’ m’ lorrrd.” He managed to get his knees under him and crawl towards Adrik.

Adrik met him and started pulling clothing and armor on the drugged Human. Pierce tried to help but his muscle control was lacking. His arms and legs flopped; it was as if his entire body was asleep. The minutes ticked by painfully slow as Adrik got him dressed. He thanked the ancestors he knew how to put on durasteel; even with Pierce being unable to help, Adrik had him armored up in five painfully slow agonizing minutes. “Come on bud we have to go out the window,” Adrik whispered.

“‘courrssse m’ lorrrd,” he mumbled.

Adrik helped Pierce to window, which the Human promptly fell out of, landing with a ground-moving thud. “Oh bloody hell,” Adrik cursed. If he did not have to kill the entire village to get them out of there he was going to be surprised. He pulled the drugged incoherent mountain to his feet, karkin hell Pierce was heavy, the man was a good head taller than him and Adrik's earlier estimation that Pierce outweighed him by fifty pounds was false, it was closer to hundred. Throwing his arm around the Human's waist he eased Pierce onto his shoulder, grabbing Pierce's other hand he pulled it across his shoulders so he was able to half support, half carry him. “Alright buddy, I need you to walk.”

Pierce's head flopped, “Thee ttreeess, need treesss.”

“Thats right, headed to cover, getting our tails outta here.” Adrik grunted as he shifted more of Pierce's bulk onto his shoulders, “You focus on walking, moving one foot then the other.”

“Yeess Ssirr.” Pierce jerkily drug his left foot through the ground litter, sc.r.a.p.i.ng twigs and rustling leaves.

“That’s good, now lets get the kark out of here.”

To Adrik's complete surprise they managed to climb the hill to the clearing without incident. Pierce was able to remain upright, during the climb and upon surveying the clearing he understood why. Scattered before them lay the bodies of four nightsisters; they had killed a patrol. Kit'ar ran to greet them, “Is he okay?” she reached out grabbing his listing form.

“He will be,” Adrik replied, “We need to get moving, he’s drugged and pretty much useless right now.” Adrik grumbled.

Pierce looked around them, his eyes glazed over. “Thheyyy took m’ rifflee and m’ therrrmalll detooonatoorrsss,” he pouted.

“It’s okay, we will get you more,” Kit consoled him.

“Ohhh gooood,” the drugged mountain mumbled.

“Let me help you,” Kit grabbed Pierce's other arm attempting to drape it over her shoulders.

Adrik curtly shook his head, “No, you were hurt, I can handle this. If I have trouble I will ask Jy'lith to help.”

Kit dropped Pierce's arm, gently placing it at the massive Human's side. She flashed Adrik a hurt look, but surprisingly she didn’t argue. They walked as fast as they could to put distance between them and the village. “Kit,” Adrik whispered as they hoofed it. “Are you going to let that stand?”

“No,” she answered her gold eyes glittering, “no.”

He nodded, tightening his grip on Pierce, “How far is it back to the ship?”

Kit shook her head, “We are not headed to the ship. Vette thinks we can make the tomb before nightfall, we are headed there. It is not ideal, but we will be sleeping there tonight, I think there might be a Reclamation team there.”

“K,” Adrik grunted, “how far off it is? We don't have much daylight left.” Adrik frowned as he watched the sun descend through the overhead canopy.

“Not sure, I think its close.” She peered through the thick canopy, “I hope its close.”

Adrik’s legs were getting tired; Kit’ar looked over at him concerned. He ignored her, forcing his body to continue. He was weaker than he wanted to let on. Pierce’s condition remained constant, whatever they had drugged him with was potent, the large man barely managed to stay upright, leaning heavily on Adrik as they struggled toward the ancient tomb. The forest fell away, the thick greens and browns of its towering walls giving way to the light green of the grass field that was the tomb's entrance. Out of the green field a rough hewn staircase grew, it marched to the tomb's entrance, past silent statues, ageless sentries that guarded and protected the massive building.

Adrik paused, he stared up at the pyramid the massive walls cutting into the rapidly darkening sky, the Force swirled thick around the building. “Kit” he gasped, eyes wide he stared at her. She was standing still, head back, eyes closed, basking in the tomb's smoky embrace. He looked at the ancient building, the realization that what they were going to explore was no tomb but a temple to the Dark Side. He bowed his head inhaling, letting the smoky, seductive Force flow around him caress him, absorbing it. With renewed vigor he hefted Pierce up against his shoulders and started up the stairs.

As they grew closer it became easier to navigate the steps, he heard a low rumble, “Thank you.” Pierce rumbled.

Adrik looked up the giant man was looking down at him; he was trying to stand on his own. “No you don’t,” Adrik muttered, “I don’t think I’ll be able to pick you up again. Just lean on me.” Pierce grunted he shifted his weight slightly off Adrik’s shoulders. Adrik’s shoulders and back almost shouted; the respite of having some of his burden reduced was such a welcome relief. As they climbed he heard Pierce open and close his mouth several times, drawing a breath but then stopping. He continued up never looking at the man, wanting to reach their objective.

After what felt like weeks they reached the top of the staircase. Adrik paused and looked behind him, the view was amazing. The open courtyard of the temple stretched before them, a dark green blanket wrapping around the building. Overgrown flower gardens flanked the massive building’s sides; the stone sentry statues watched the grand stairs and guarded the perimeter. Two black obelisks stretching into the twilight hued, star studded sky, they caught and absorbed all the rapidly fading light, glittering black claws that embodied the Force that flowed through the temple, black, blue and red smoke coursed within the stone. Trees grew within the confines of the temple grounds, they were twisted and black, their ebony leaves flickering in the breeze, Adrik could tell they were deliberately planted; black stone walkways connected them to the gardens and obelisks.

Next to him Pierce inhaled, “Ohh wooow,” he muttered. “Look at this place.”

“Impressive isn’t it.”

“Aye it is.”

Adrik moved the heavy man, gesturing inside, “Let’s go, you are fracking heavy.” Pierce chuckled as they walked in.

The entrance was large spacious, there were two more of the black smoking obelisks in the foyer. The stone floor was worn from countless feet; dust and dirt had accumulated in the corners of the room. The age of the place pressed around Adrik swallowing him. He inhaled, the air was surprisingly fresh, a gentle breeze flowed past him carrying the scents of Humans. “This way,” he gestured to a corridor that branched off to the right leading out and away from the main entryway. He led them down the sent trail, past more silent stone sentinels. The corridor opened up into another large room, the walls decorated with carvings, in each corner stood a massive statue of a man, head bowed, arms raised, tirelessly supporting the ceiling. In the middle of a room a group of portable tables had been set up, men in grey Imperial uniforms where standing around gesturing and comparing notes on datapads.

Adrik hung back waiting, Pierce slumped against him. Vette came to stand next to him as Kit’ar and Jaesa moved to speak to the men.

He heard Jy'lith’s voice behind him, “Who are those people?” Adrik turned to look at the Twi'lek, he was unusually pale, his eyes downcast.

“I believe that is the Imperial Reclamation Service. We should be able to stay the night here.”

Jy'lith nodded, frowning, his hand grasping Vette's.

“He’s not looking to good,” Adrik heard Pierce whisper.

“No he’s not,” Adrik quietly agreed. “Then again none of us over here are.”

“Hey,” Vette chirped, “I look fine.”

Adrik looked at her and raised his brows. She looked down at her ripped and bloody clothes. “Well yeah that does not look good, but I’m happy to be here.”

“Yeah,” Adrik grunted, “it’s good to be alive.”

Vette nodded, “I owe you.”

Adrik shook his head dismissing her debt and his attention shifted to Kit.

She was talking to one of the men and gesturing to their corner. The men snapped to, salutes flew and they scrambled off to fill her demands. She walked back to them, “They are going to try to give us more kolto. They have their sleeping quarters through there, we are welcome to the beds.”

“Excellent,” Adrik grunted, “let’s go, starships are lighter.” They moved through the open doorway into the adjoining room, there along the wall were cots with grey blankets and pillows. He moved to the nearest cot, easing Pierce down onto the metal bed, it creaked and groaned under his weight but thankfully it held.

A slight man in a grey uniform ran into the room, he stopped breathless, in front of Adrik, “My Lord,” he saluted Adrik.

Adrik nodded, fighting the urge to return the salute, some things died a hard death. “Yes?”

“I was told you needed these for your commando.” He held out a handful of kolto packages and a syringe.

“Thank you,” Adrik smiled.

“Oh,” the man brightened, “you are most welcome, is there anything else I can do.”

“Nothing at the moment.”

“Oh okay my Lord,” he seemed to deflate.

“You can come back in a while and check in on us though, after we get him patched up.”

The man brightened again, “Of course my Lord,” he declared smiling.

Adrik returned the smile. “Thank you.”

“Most welcome,” the man saluted again and scurried off.

Pierce chuckled, “He’s rather enthusiastic.”

“He is probably excited to talk to a breathing person, considering he spends all day in dusty old places like this.” Pierce shrugged nodding his agreement. Adrik proceeded to unbuckle the durasteel.

It was a lot easier to remove it now that Pierce was coherent, his eyes still possessed a glazed over quality, but he was able to function. Adrik opened a kolto bandage and applied it to a gash on his arm, the massive man hissed as the kolto got to work. Adrik heard the clink of chains and growled. He looked at Pierce, his arms were resting on his legs his hands dangling between his knees, the rusted shackles and chains hanging. Adrik bit his lip as he stared.

Pierce caught his gaze, “Adrik?” he questioned.

Adrik grabbed his saber; his hands were shaking. Closing his eyes he tried to compose himself. Igniting the saber he motioned for Pierce to raise his arms, the man obliged staring at the Cathar. Adrik stated, “Don’t move.” He brought the golden blade down slicing through the hinges on the shackles, the left one fell clear, then the right. Extinguishing the blades he returned the hilt to his belt. Kneeling in front of the soldier he examined his wrists, they were bruised, angry dark welts encircled the joints, there was minimal damage to the skin.

“Adrik,” Pierce's voice was whisper quiet. Adrik looked up, Pierce was staring at him. Adrik shook his head no, Pierce’s right hand snaked out and grabbed Adrik’s left arm. Pierce moved the shirtsleeve up and bit his lip; his thumb rubbed the bare band of skin. Adrik watched him, jaw clenched. Pierce looked at the rusty shackles on the floor and back to the furless joint really seeing it for the first time. Pierce moved the black sleeve back down into place. “Kark, mate, they didn't do anything to me. I was a bit ornery. Them witches got frustrated; they just roughed me up is all. Guess they thought stringin' me up would make me more agreeable.” Adrik wordlessly nodded. Pierce released his arm, motioning. “Mind lookin' at my back?”

Adrik moved to the back of the cot, sharply inhaling. Across Pierce’s back deep, blood encrusted, whip marks violently competed with scratches and large spreading black bruise. Adrik opened the kolto pack and looked down at his dirty hands. Growling, he stood catching himself before he stumbled and fell. “Don’t move,” he muttered as he scanned the room looking for Jy'lith.

He walked across the room to where Jy'lith sat on a cot, his hands on Kit'ar's bare back. At his approach Kit’ar looked up and smiled at him, “Hey how is Pierce?”

“Should be okay,” he grunted, “drugs seem to be wearing off.” He watched Jy'lith’s hands applying kolto to her side and arm; her side was covered in a neat precise line of medical-strips.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt this badly?”

She bit her lip, “Vette would have died, I was not critical.”

Adrik scowled, “You are going to scar.”

“It is just a scar, Vette was more important.”

“No scar,” Jy'lith looked over his shoulder at Adrik, “it won’t scar.”

Adrik growled under his breath. “I think I need your help Jy'lith. He's been whipped pretty badly.”

Jy'lith nodded, patting Kit on the back as he stood. Carefully he packed up his medical bag and nodded towards Pierce. Slowly Adrik picked his way back across the room, Jy'lith watched him walk but aside from his arched crimson brow said nothing. Jy'lith perched on the cot behind Pierce, his hands going to work, carefully cleaning his back.

His red fingers meticulously worked, applying countless medical strips, before slathering the Human's devastated back with a thick layer of kolto. Pierce grunted every time more kolto was applied, he never cried or complained, the only signs of his discomfort were the grunts and his white knuckled grip on the bed. The angry welts gradually shrank and disappeared as the kolto worked. When the last of the welts disappeared from his massive back, Adrik turned his attention to the large blooming bruise. It was over his spine and wrapped around his right side.

Adrik growled, “What did this.”

“The rancor, when the ***** carried me off to that hell hole.”

Adrik knelt placing both hands on his bruised flesh; closing his eyes he reached out, searching trying to see if anything was bleeding or broken inside. He rumbled his displeasure, “What is it?” Pierce rumbled. Adrik didn’t respond, he couldn’t. He reached out into the Force trying to pull it to himself, the man had cracked ribs, one was dangerously close to breaking, there was internal bruising, he felt the angry dark splotches. His anatomy sucked, Adrik had no clear way to tell anyone what he saw. He reached out drawing the meager Force he could actually manipulate to himself, he was so tired but he should be able to ease the bruising and mend those ribs so they did not break. Adrik felt Pierce shift under his hands.

“Adrik?”

The words were lost in the gathering fog. Pulling the Force to himself he again reached down into his being, his concentration wavering. He growled compelling the swirling Force to obey him, he managed to channel the healing yellow fog, everything was getting dark, he was losing his grip. Under his fingertips, Pierce’s side contracted as the Human yelled. Through the fog he heard them yell from across the room. Determined he moved the Force down his arms and into the man, his resolve the only thing keeping him conscious. Pierce yelled, the words lost to him, he continued to funnel the yellow lightning into the man, focusing on his ribs. It was so sloppy so random but slowly everything began so heal, the bones knitted back together, the fog started to darken, he was losing his ability to stay awake. Adrik felt hands grab him, pulling him away from Pierce. Angry words swirled around him, they followed him down into the depths of oblivion.

He woke with a splitting headache, throat on fire, mouth filled with sand. Eyes closed he reached out, everyone was close. Slowly he blinked open his eyes. Sitting in a folding chair next to the cot was Jy'lith. Adrik tried to move but his arms would not respond. Adrik growled. Forcing his arms to comply he pushed himself up trying to sit up in the bed. His body refused to listen and he fell back into the cot. “I don’t think you are supposed to be moving,” Vette’s voice was soft and reserved.

Adrik growled. His throat ached. He closed his eyes reaching out, he felt Kit’ar near; soft footsteps echoing towards him. Kit knelt by the bed, “Here hon,” she whispered holding out a cup of steaming liquid. “It’s caf dear, hot so be careful.”

He nodded, his hands refused to listen, “Help,” he whispered his voice a dry creak. She held the cup to his lips, he took a drink, the warmth of the caf coating and soothing his throat. He leaned his head forward and she helped him take another drink, the caf took the edge off his thirst and his headache. Swallowing he motioned to her again, she held up the cup and he finished off the contents. The liquid warming as it went down. He sighed and she laid him back against the pillow.

“That was really stupid Adrik.” He shrugged. She leaned in kissing his cheek, he inhaled and growled disappointed when he was unable to pick up her scent, he over did it big time, everything was drained.

“Why did you do that, we are safe here.”

Adrik growled his voice a dusty whisper, he had to force the words out of his aching throat, “Ribs cracked, one going break, punctured lung.”

Kit’ar sighed, “Why didn’t you tell anyone.”

“Who? No tank,” he croaked.

She sighed again. She shifted her weight against the cot leaning against him, running her fingers through his mane. Leaning over she kissed Adrik, he ran his fingers through her hair. “I’ll be back, I’ll find you something to eat.” He kissed her again and nodded. She stood and slowly moved away towards the other cots. Adrik rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.

He was being pulled at, tugged out of his slumber. Slowly he opened his eyes, the room was dim, the artificial lighting was turned low. Looking around the room he saw bodies in the cots and on the floor in makeshift pallets resting, behind him he felt Kit'ar's warmth as she slept snuggled against his back. He felt the tugging sensation again; slowly he sat up in the bed dropping his feet onto the cool stone floor. Cautiously he stood, expecting his legs to give out but they held his weight. The call continued, it was like a pulse through the Force gentle and demanding at the same time. Slowly he crept through the room past the sleeping bodies of the archaeologists, Vette and Jy'lith; who had his arm protectively curled around her as they slumbered, Pierce and Jaesa’s cot. Interesting, he paused, Jaesa and Kit'ar still slept.

Adrik slowly padded down the hall. He followed the compelling call, keeping track of the turns and twists so he could return. The voice, was it a voice? He paused looking behind him, as it continued to grow, reaching the barely audible, yet fevered pitched of swarming insects. He came upon a room, the walls carved from the same smoky black stone as the obelisks; the entire room seemed to pulse. The pitch-black walls contained within their mirrored surface, a rolling black fog with blue, red and violet smoke coursing through it, it was hypnotic to watch. The only thing in the room was a large dais, carved from the same smoke filled stone. Carved humanoids stood, heads bowed arms overhead, supporting the ceiling atop the dais, flanking an ornately carved alter. The only object resting on the surface was a violet flame that hovered a hands breath above the table; it licked and flickered in the tomblike stillness, sustaining itself without any visible means of fuel or support.

He crept into the room cautiously approaching the dais. Behind the altar the walls were carved, the images shifted and danced in the smokeless flames light.

As he neared the dais he heard the whispering chittering voice, no voices. He looked around the room, trying to discern their source. The whispers seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The voices stopped whispering, the room grew quiet. Closing his eyes he reached out touching the swirling dark-hearted Force that flowed throughout the room. The warmth of it pulled him closer to the dais; looking around the now tomb silent room he knelt before the steps.

He was struck with the sudden feeling that he could find answers within this room, the Force flowed thickly through the raised alter before him, enveloping the black stone in its embrace. He only had one question, only one answer he wanted. When he received his answer, he would be able to track down the answers to his other questions. He laid his hands in his lap, allowing himself to sink deeper into the flow of the Force. “Why?” He quietly asked, projecting it into the space around him.

A skittering whisper responded, “Vague, yes so vague.”

He growled, “Why,” he asked again, “why, was I blinded to the Force.”

“Ahh,” the voice chattered, “that one interests.” “Yes,” a deeper whispering voice agreed, “worth seeing.” The whispering grew louder, built upon by more voices.

A force slammed into his side, he grunted. Again something slammed up against him. He relaxed, the third blow sent shivers up his spine, icy fingers probed in his mind, the chittering, chattering whispers were in his head, exploring, burrowing. He felt the icy talons digging; something cracked, and fell away. They howled, screamed in glee, “Let us see, oh yes let’s see.”

Slowly in front of him in the Force filled fog an image started to form. Two figures swirled in the fog, one was small a child, the other older in the prime of his life. The image solidified further, drawing them into focus. Color blossomed and faded as the stationary smoke swirled. They were Cathar; the older man was dressed in the brown robes of a Jedi, the younger in black robes. “No” Adrik breathed, his voice breaking the stillness of the room.

The boy was young no older than ten. “But Grandfather I don’t understand.” The boy was upset, he had been crying, now he was trying to keep his composure. “I have been a good student, I am supposed to get a master soon. Mother promised me.”

“No,” the older man responded, snarling, “It’s for your good. You are leaving, we have to leave,” the older man was angry.

A chill crept down Adrik’s spine, the man was his Grandfather, and he was the child. A cold lump formed in his stomach, what had his Grandfather done?

The smoke swirled shifted, the figures were lost in the shifting emptiness. Slowly the mist reformed, into a room, seated in the room in a circle were more Jedi, they were talking in hushed tones, Adrik could not hear them. His Grandfather grew impatient, he gestured with his hands, “I will not allow this to come to pass.”

“But he has such a connection to the Force, and it is a possible path not the final outcome,” it was a Jedi he did not know, she sat back watching his Grandfather.

“No,” his Grandfather spat, slamming his fist on a chair. “We have all heard the vision, my blood will not mate with a Sith, he will not fall, they will not fall.” His Grandfather spat through clenched teeth.

“It has showed us multiple outcomes,” she said calmly, “only one shows that end. You are focusing on only two of them.”

“The others are no better, he dies by her hand. No,” the Cathar growled, “it must be done. If you will not help me I shall do it myself.”

The seated Jedi turned to look at young Adrik, “I will take him on myself, train him, work to avoid the vision from completing itself.”

Young Adrik smiled at her and looked to his Grandfather.

The man scowled. “No. Do I have the Council’s help or do I have to do it myself?”

The seated Jedi sighed, “You do.” And the mists fell apart.

Darkness swirled around him, Adrik shuddered, he braced himself for the mists to reform. Slowly the fog took shape, outlining a bedroom. Young Adrik lay in the bed, “Grandfather I feel funny.”

The gruff man stared at him, “How do you feel funny.”

“I,” the boy answered, “I don’t know something is missing.”

The older Cathar bent over the bed resting his hand on his forehead. “You have been ill, you have had a fever.”

“No Grandfather that’s not it, something else,” his speech was starting to slur, “When I’m better can I go back to my studies so I can be a Jedi like you? I really want to see my new master, when do I get to meet them?”

“No,” his Grandfather said, “not anymore. There is no Master, that was just pretend.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak, his brow furrowed in confusion and suddenly he closed his eyes. Adrik watched his Grandfather cross the room, the seated Jedi was there watching. He stopped by her, “Is the sever permanent?”

She shook her head no, “It was too strong, we were not able to cut his connection, but he is shielded from it, he should live his life and never know, as you wanted.”

“Good,” the older Cathar commented. “Now wipe his mind so he forgets all the time he spent here.”

She sighed, “He is too strong in his connection, but his memories will be blocked.”

“Good enough,” his Grandfather grumbled.

She laid a hand on his arm, “If he ever manages to break through any of this though, to remember...”

He shrugged, “If he has no memory of this place, of his training, the vision is still thwarted. It was a Jedi Master who is seduced by the Sith.”

She shook her head and walked out the room, the figures fell into the fog and were gone.

Adrik opened his eyes. He rubbed his face trying to focus, his Grandfather did this to him?

The voices started to chitter, chattering he felt them leave. “Interesting, very interesting.” “Foolish,” he heard them laughing. It echoed and rolled off the walls, the maddening, chittering-chattering whispering filled the room, “Foolish, pride.” “Hubris,” one voice chattered loudly, “the Force will not be denied.”

His vision grew blurry; this was done to him out of pride? The cold lump in his stomach grew, radiating out, numbing him. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to will away the tears that were forming. His Grandfather did this to him and then he lied, he created this elaborate farce forcing Adrik to live it, and then he just disappeared without a word. How could his own blood do this to him? Adrik rubbed his face harder trying to deny the warmth that had started to trickle down his fine furred cheeks. He had always known his Grandfather knew more than he ever let on, Adrik knew he had lied about his family’s tragic death. The cold lump in his stomach grew heaver, rolling. He shuddered, if his Grandfather had done something as unthinkable as severing his connection when he was a kit, what had actually happened to his family? Had his Grandfather actually killed them and there was no accident?

Adrik slumped over his head touching the cool stone. Biting his lower lip, hard, he fought for control as the coppery taste of blood touched his tongue. Inhaling he slowly sat back up, his hands wiping away the moisture staining his cheeks. What could of possibly prompted his Grandfather to do something like that, what could that vision of possibly been, to do something so horrible? Sinking is weight back on his heels; he wiped his face one last time. Returning his hands to his lap, he slowly opened his eyes returning his gaze to the flickering violet light.

“What is this vision?” Adrik asked the voices.

“Ohhh, shall see.” More laughter. “Let us see, he shall see.” “Cannot deny.” “Let’s all see.”

Adrik watched in amazement as the air in front of him shimmered. The violet flame surged to life, growing in size and giving birth to a dark inky violet smoke, the dancing smoke thickened and filled the air. The smoke took a vague shape; it twisted and turned becoming more solid. Colors danced in the still smoke, lightning bright flashes that filled the solidifying forms. Standing in front of him was himself, garbed in the brown robes of a Master, a doubledbladed saber hung from his hip, his mane was hanging down his back in a long braid that brushed his hips. Adrik stared at his once future self, the one denied by his Grandfather. Jedi Adrik looked off to the side, a hooded figure clothed in black walked into the view. Jedi Adrik smiled and walked up to them, he lowered the hood and bent to kiss the figure. When the kiss broke Adrik got a good view of the woman, she was a pale redhead, her hair hung long and loose around her shoulders. “By the Force,” Adrik murmured, the woman standing in front of him was Kit’ar. They both looked younger by a few years. “That is Voss,” Adrik murmured staring at the surrounding trees, “that is near the ruins where we snuck away on Voss.”

The voices giggled, “Will not be denied.” “The Force gets its way,” the insane voices howled in chorus.

Adrik stared at the figures in front of him, embracing talking smiling; occasionally one would look around to make sure they were not followed. He watched them kiss, and his heart twisted. He looked so secure, confidant, calm; his anger towards his Grandfather grew. “He swore no blood of his would mate with a Sith or fall to the Dark Side.”

The gibbering voices howled with more laughter, “Never fell, never ever.” “Nope, never ever, always Jedi.” “Master Jedi.” The howling laughter rebated off the walls.

“Why,” he demanded from the disembodied voices, “why. There must be more to it,” he watched the image in front of them, the secret lovers sat beneath a tree and were talking, as he picked a flower twirling it in his fingers. Adrik watched the vision in front of him. “This does not look terrifying, where is the outcome where she kills me?”

The gibbering quieted, they faded, Adrik continued to stare at the couple in front on him, drinking in the scene memorizing the details. The scratching whispers returned, “No death, wrong.” The whispers howled with laughter again. “No death, never death, you fell, fallen Jedi.” “Scorned lover, attempted.” “Failed.” “But never from her.” “Not her.” “But now,” the voices shouted, “bounded, binded together, yes we see it.” “He failed, such hubris.” He watched the smoky vision, the once future Kit’ar smiled at the Jedi Adrik, he leaned forward slipping the flower behind her ear.

“How can I have never fallen and be a fallen Jedi.”

The skittering voices laughed, “Always Jedi, fallen from grace.”

“They removed me from the Order?”

Laughter rang off the walls, echoed through the smoke, “You, you removed, harsh words, orders given.” “Disobeyed, such disobedience.”

“What disobedience? What did I do?” Adrik shook his head watching the two as they talked.

“Didn't obey. Never obeyed him. Followed the family but not him.” More chittering laughter reverberated off the walls, “Followed your passions.” “Your passions.”

Shaking his head Adrik watched the lovers embrace, kissing. Adrik closed his eyes still watching their once future selves embracing. “He went to such lengths to prevent an affair? He destroyed the life I was supposed to have to placate his pride?”

The voices fell silent as the fog drifted apart, the image of the lovers slowly disappearing.

He opened his eyes, looking at the dancing violet flame surrounded by thick ever-moving smoke, “Who was the scorned lover who tried and failed?”

The flame grew larger and the smoke grew thick, lightning flashes of color filling the smoke as it coalescenced into a scene before him. This time it portrayed a young raven-haired man, his Imperial uniform impeccable, slowly making his way up a hillside. From the autumnal colours and honey coloured sky, it appeared to be Voss. When he crested the hill, he paused as he spotted a black-cloaked figure. Smiling he walked towards the figure; they turned to face him and a sharp frown appeared on ruby lips. She lowered her hood, revealing Kit's face. They became animated yelling at each other. Adrik watched younger version of Kit’ar argue with this man. She appeared to be attempting to send him away. Suddenly they stopped, both looking to a figure that appeared behind them; tall, wearing beige and white robes. The man snarled and lowered his hood. In front of them stood the once future Adrik. Kit’ar tried to interject herself between them but the seething Cathar stepped around her. He grabbed his saber while yelling at the Human. The Human pulled his side arm, in a flash the saber ignited, green double blades hummed as it swung, Adrik lunged grabbing and clawing the Human’s shoulder, forcing him to his knees as he ran the Human through. The raven-haired man fell forward holding his chest, slowly he slumped onto the ground his sightless blue eyes watching Kit’ar.

Adrik stared at the dead man he seemed so familiar. Then it clicked into place; it was the Human officer he had encountered on Alderaan, the one who was once Kit's husband. He hadn't seen the Human since that trip; the man hadn't even crossed his mind again. Adrik thought he had been transferred off Kit's ship.

“I killed this man.”

“Yes, oh yes,” “Dead, dead, dead.” “Oh so dead.” “Good it felt.” “Oh so good.” Hissing laughter returned snaking though the room. “Got in the way.” “In the way.” “Never listened.”

“Got in the way?” Adrik shook his head, “in what way?”

“Your way, your way,” the voices chanted, “got in your way.” “Was you, always you.” The voices suddenly dropped off, only one spoke taking on an eerily somber tone. “Always you, always. From the beginning, stolen kiss. Always you.”

Adrik shook his head, “I don’t understand, beginning of what?”

“The beginning, the beginning, always you, always her. Always. Sealed by the stolen kiss.”

“What... are you saying we were meant to be together? That can't be right, she was betrothed, she has had children...”

“Right, always right. Force gets what it wants. Broken engagement, always you. You followed her, your planet followed you.”

Adrik shook his head, “That can't be, her children. She was married to others she has children.”

“No,” the somber voice spoke more forcefully, its tone becoming exasperated as if talking to a child. “No, one son, from an agreement, no mates. Your heir. No children. Always her, you, her.”

Adrik stared at the flickering flame, his mind racing, trying to digest the broken information he had just learned. Slowly pieces clicked into place. “That woman, the one from the vision she trained me, took me on? My family stayed in negations with the Empire and I stayed with Kit. I somehow kept it a secret even as I attained the rank of Master.” He heard the voices in the room beginning to speak in low hushed tones, their words indecipherable. “I needed to produce an heir so I entered into a contract with another Cathar, but that is all, it was a way to pass my blood along. I was with Kit, I had been with her since her family came to Cathar.” The voices grew louder, their murmuring echoing off the walls. “In the high boughs of the Arbor, in the vines, her father caught us as little kits kissing, the little pecks on the cheeks, he saw us sitting there holding hands talking of running away. He broke off the engagement. An engagement I never even knew about, wouldn’t of understood even if I did.” The murmuring grew louder, threatening to reach decipherable levels. Adrik licked his lips, “And my Grandfather ripped it all away.” The voices stopped. Silence descended over the room; only his breathing and the gentle snapping of the dark side fueled flame marred it. “I am going to kill him,” Adrik growled.

A low grating noise filled the room, Adrik looked up to the alter, there in the front of the carved altar's face was a small dark opening. Squinting Adrik tried to look inside. Nothing, all he was able to see from this distance was blackness. Slowly he stood, walking on the balls of his barefeet up the cool smooth stairs. He stopped a respectful distance away from the new opening. Peering into the hole, all he could see was inky darkness. Opening his hand he encouraged lightening to form. It coiled down his arm, pooling in the palm of his hand. Within the yellow glow he was able to see a glint reflected back to him from the depths of the opening. Adrik hesitated, putting his hand in there as probably not a wise idea. Extending his other hand, he reached out searching through the Force. The object within the altar didn't feel to be very large, gently he pulled on it, slowly bringing it out of the alcove.

Looking down at his palm he studied the thick heavy circular band. He brought his hand closer to his face, scrutinizing the band, finger-thick coils of metal, silver in color, twisted around each other, coiling like vipers. Slowly he rotated his hand, equally spaced along the band, four sets of fang like teeth extended up and down, the fang tips almost touching. Set within were set four identical stones, four perfectly round polished black stones that swirled with the smoky red, violet and blues of contained Force, they absorbed all the light the violet flame emitted. He exhaled slowly, it was a rather ornate armband and it exuded the smoky warm seductive dark side like the rest of the temple.

“What is this?” Adrik whispered. He wanted to keep the ornament; the Force pulsed around the ancient band. It had begun to warm the palm of his hand; he had to fight to resist the urge to slip it onto his arm. The warmth continued to grow, traveling up his arm. The Force that radiated off of it was almost blinding in its intensity. Licking his dry lips, Adrik swallowed, glancing up at the still smoking altar. Dropping his eyes back to his palm he reached out, trying to touch the swirling Force. He gasped almost dropping the artifact when it actually responded to his command, surging up his arm. It hadn't responded like that since he was a kit. “How... how is that possible, how?”

The disembodied voices were silent, his questioned echoed in the still air of the room. “How?” he asked again.

One voice answered, “Kill him.”

“Why do you care, why did you show this to me?” Adrik demanded searching for the now quiet voices.

Silence was the only answer. Adrik stared at the band resting on his palm, why did those insane voices even care? Had they been trapped here so long that they relished the thought of vengeance, even if it did not involve any transgression against them? Adrik looked again at the altar, the flame had died down, returning to the slight flicker it possessed when he entered the room. They were gone, Adrik knew the voices were gone, and for reasons known only to them they had left him with a gift. He knew it was foolish to trust anything they had shown him, but given his Grandfather's intolerance of the Imperial diplomats and his surly demeanor the visions fit.

Growling Adrik shoved his right robe and shirtsleeves up to his shoulder. Cautiously he slipped the band onto his arm, pushing it up onto his bicep. It settled around his arm as if it had been made for him, twisting it he adjusted it smoothing the fur underneath when his thumb slipped, his grip lost, his palm slid across the band. Grunting he pulled his hand away, twin scratches ran along his palm, blood already beading. He brought his palm to his hand to lick the wound when he caught himself. Instead he turned towards the altar.

He placed his hand on the cool black surface, dragging it along the stone, leaving twin blood trails on its immaculate surface. The violet flame flared brightly before him, before returning to its dormant flicker. “We are even,” he spoke to the silent voices, “I owe you nothing more. I am strong, I shall not fail. Your bloodlust will be sated, but I am not yours,” Adrik growled. “Attempt to control me and I will return and personally raze this place into the earth.”

The flame flared brightly. “Acceptable.” A deep voice responded, “Kill him.”

“He is a dead man walking.” Adrik snarled.

Suddenly he felt a pressure in his head, a pushing sensation and then warmth. The icy talons withdrew, taking with it the foreign pressure. How had he forgotten their presence in his own mind? He pulled his sleeves down with his bloody palm. That is a mistake he would never make again. Turning on bare feet he padded silently down the black stone stairs. Eyes straight, he briskly walked from the room. Now he had a new direction to follow, find his Grandfather if he had done this to him, perhaps he could be … persuaded to undo it.

He made his way back to the make shift barracks without incident; he didn’t even see a patrol. Kit looked as if she hadn’t even moved, smiling he moved to the cot, gently easing himself into the bed. As he settled his head against the pillow she stirred, rolling towards him. He reached out wrapping his arm around her waist. She stilled, sighing softly. Closing his eyes, he listened to her deep even breathing as he drifted off to sleep.

“Sir,” The whispering voice pulled at him, groaning he rolled over ignoring it. “Sir,” The voice responded, “My Lord, Sir. I am to give you this.” The warm earthy scent of freshly brewed caf floated before his nose. Inhaling he cracked open an eye. “No disrespect my Lord, she wanted me to give you this, said calling you Sir would rouse you faster.” His eye latched onto the steaming cup held in an outstretched hand. Slowly his eye traced along the hand, up a grey-sleeved arm to a rather pensive looking young Human man. “I am sorry Sir, my Lord, my Lord Sir,” the man stammered.

Adrik sat up propping his body up on elbow as he reached for the offered cup, “You have caf, I don’t care what you call me.”

“Oh,” the man stepped closer bringing the caf within reach. “She had said that too.”

“Who is she? Said what?” Adrik grunted.

“The red-headed Sith, Wrath I believe the Captain called her. She said that you wouldn’t care what I called you as long as I gave you some caf.” The young man looked over his shoulder towards the room’s entrance. “I do think she is sweet on you,” The Human murmured, very softly. He had probably not intended for it to actually be heard.

Adrik chuckled as he blew on the steaming mug, “Aye, she is.”

The young man jumped, his head swiveling back towards Adrik, a furious blush creeping across his cheeks, “I… I am sorry, I didn’t mean anything I assure you.”

Adrik shook his head as he took a tentative sip. “Your fine, I’m not offended.” The caf was a bit to hot but it was tolerable; he took another drink. Sighing in contentment, he sat up further in the bed. Swinging his legs over the side of the cot he realized the Human was still standing there. He looked up at the young man, brow raised. “Yeah?”

“You, ah, you are a transplant like me.” The Human was staring at him.

“A transplant?” Adrik questioned, taking another sip off the steaming cup. Propping his body against his knee as he drank.

“Ah yes, Sir, errr my Lord, um Sir.” The Human stammered eyes latched onto Adrik. “You don’t sound like you are a Dromund Kaas native, but your accent, it sounds like you live there now and you drink caf in the morning. Everyone here drinks tea, I am the only one who enjoys caf in the morning, though she did perk up when she noticed I had some.” The Human shifted on his feet. “Or am I mistaken?”

“Nope,” Adrik shook his head, “you are right. Born on Cathar, lived most my life on Coruscant.”

“I knew it,” the Human smiled, “what caused you to leave? I mean if I may be so bold.”

Adrik smiled, “That red-head, she’s my Mate.”

“Oh really?” The Human’s eyes widened as he again looked over his shoulder. “Well that’s a good reason if I have ever heard one.”

“I suppose it is,” Adrik took another drink. “So where are you from?”

“Oh,” the Human turned to regard him one again, “I am from Balmorra, born and raised in Sobrik. When I was old enough I joined the Reclamation Service.” The Human stood a little bit straighter.

“Enjoy this line of work do you?” Adrik stretched, swallowing the still warm dregs.

“Yes, I do, it is fascinating stuff. Reading about it on datapads does it no justice.” The Human shook his head, “No justice at all. It is all so fascinating,” the Human’s grey eyes drifted around the room, skimming the ancient walls.

Adrik stretched again, rolling his shoulders as he stood. “It is good to enjoy your work, I used to, before I became a transplant, as you put it.”

“Oh what did you do before?

“Military, Special Forces, actually.”

“Really? Special Forces, hadn’t expected that. I bet that’s quite the story.” The young Human’s eyes perked up, the corners of his lips up turned in a poorly repressed smile. “How did you go from Spec Forces to being here?”

Adrik looked down at him, “Suppose I was lucky, if you believe in such a thing. Clandestine op, chance encounter that changed everything.”

“Ohh, and you met her there didn’t you, the Wrath.”

“I did,” Adrik, glanced down at his empty mug, “I suppose everything happens for a reason.”

“Pretty fascinating, I’d love to hear more.” The young man scratched his head, and then his hand stopped. He looked at Adrik, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I was supposed to instruct you, after you had your caf, that they are waiting for you, the other members of your party. Said there was business that needed to be concluded this morning. When you are ready you are to meet them outside the temple.”

Adrik handed him the empty mug, “Thank you, could you please tell them I am on my way. I need to hit the ‘fresher and find my boots.”

“Oh yes of course,” the Human smiled and left, apparently forgetting all about titles and what Adrik should be called. Adrik shook his head and he bent to retrieve his boots.

They covered the ground back to the village in short order; stopping in a small clearing overlooking the small village. Kit’ar looked back over her shoulder at them. Adrik stepped closer taking a look. She spoke next to him, “Now Pierce, I leave this to you. How decimated do you want it?”

Behind him Adrik heard knuckles cracking. “M’ Lord, obliterated, but,” he hissed, “spare the men.”

“And if they do something stupid,” Kit’ar asked.

“Rip them limb from limb, m’ Lord.”

“Okay you heard the Lieutenant, Vette you and Jy'lith together. Pierce and Adrik you are with me, Jasea stick close to us, but enjoy yourself.” Jaesa smiled back her eyes glittering.

“No one is left behind. Move out.” Kit’ar picked up the hem of her robe and started down the wooded path.

They crept down into the sleepy village; it was just starting to wake as the morning rays of the sun filtered through the trees. Pierce took the lead; he peeled off the group and moved into a nearby hut. The muted ping of silenced blaster fire drifted back to his ears, he emerged from the hut melting into the shadows as he headed to the next target. Vette and Jy'lith drifted off down a side path disappearing into the darkness. They continued into the heart of the village, silenced blaster shots rang out, Adrik’s ear twitched. A battle cry erupted behind them, it was answered with a shrieking scream. Rifle blasts rang out. Blaster fire rang out in the distance, Adrik listened three blasters were working in fast succession.

The huts in front of them erupted; nightsisters flew out into the breaking dawn. Adrik flashed his teeth and roared, it echoed off the huts and rolled through the air into the forest. All three of them drew and ignited their sabers at the same time. The two women lept past him and landed into the thick of the assembled nightsisters. Adrik sent lighting into the crowd. He watched as the women jumped and slashed, it was a macabre dance, and it was mesmerizing. At every opportunity he sent wave upon wave of golden lighting into the fray, electrocuting and shocking the night sisters. He relished in their screams, their strangled death cries, he let their fear fuel him, he charged his blade and jumped into the dance.

The air was filled with the sounds of screams, distant blaster fire, the hum and zip of saber blades and the cackle of lightning. Adrik turned and blasted a staggering nightsister with the energy stored along his saber’s blades before he twisted bringing the weapon into her side. Her strangled scream was silenced as she slid to the ground in a wet sickening thump. In the distance he heard blades being extinguished, straightening he surveyed the damage. Littering the ground around them were the dismembered, disfigured corpses of the nightsisters.

Adrik’s head was spinning; the Force was flowing around him thick and smoky. He inhaled relishing in the sultry smell of it. He turned in a slow circle, enjoying it. A hand touched on his shoulder. “Adrik,” she whispered. He turned to face her. Kit’ar eyes glowed an intense shining gold, “it’s finished Adrik.” He nodded and extinguished his saber hanging it back on his belt. He stared into those glowing orbs; he saw his face reflected back. He grabbed her and pulled her close, aggressively kissing her. Growling he tightened his embrace, biting her lip. She groaned and pulled him closer, “Adrik,” she breathed, “the crew is here.”

A soft hand touched his shoulder, “My Lords.” He broke off his kiss and looked at the owner of the hand. Jaesa stood there quietly, eyes glowing, “We do need to get moving, away from here.”

Kit’ar murmured, “She’s right,” she disentangled herself from Adrik. “Lets get the hell off this rock, I have had my fill of it.” Kit’ar looked back over to Pierce, “Satisfied?”

“Very m’ Lord.” Pierce looked behind them surveying the smoking village.

“No one wants to stick around for any reason do you?” Kit looked at her gathered crew.

“Nope,” Vette grinned, “Actually got what I was looking for.” She produced a rather large bag; cracking it open Adrik was able to see the rounded top of a grey egg.

“By the Force, how did you manage that?” Kit stared at Vette.

“Made sure I wandered past the rancor pens,” Vette shrugged. “Also found a couple things back in that tomb thingy. I'll show ya back at the ship.”

“You really do amaze me, lets get the hell out of here.” Kit’ar started back up the hill, Jaesa following alongside as they up the trail.

Adrik watched the rest of the crew walk past him. He fell instep next to Jy'lith and Pierce. The walk back to the ship was blessedly uneventful, the mood was light, everyone was joking. When they entered the clearing where the ship slumbered, Adrik smiled. He needed a drink, a shower and a nap, in that order. Kit'ar walked up to the ship and punched in the numerical code that unlocked the ramp. Quietly the ramp lowered, everyone filed on board and disbursed through the ship.

Adrik turned on the refresher, letting it run while steam built up, he found a bottle of whisky on the nightstand and was taking sips. Peeling off his filthy clothes he dropped them on top of his boots and stepped inside. Drenching his hide under the warm water he relaxed, sighing in contentment he picked up the soap and cleaned himself. Nosing through her bottles he found her shampoo and washed his mane. He let the water run over him just enjoying being clean. Turning off the water he exited the ‘fresher and toweled himself off. He sauntered over to the bed and flopped, kicking the sheets down he slipped between them and pulled the sheets up to his chest. The bed felt so good.

On a side note, when I played SWG (Star Wars Galaxies)I loved going to Dathomir to go Nightsister hunting. I really hoped at some point that planet would have been included in this game, but sadly they never did. A couple of my most prized possessions in SWG were my Nightsister Lance and shoulder armor. So I worked them into the story because I wanted to

I am not sure that I did understand it all properly. Can you enlighten me on one specific part? When they talk about the cathar girl Adrik may have had a child with, it is one of the possible futures he might have had, right? Nothing that really happened, otherwise he would know...

Otherwise, it is good to finally know a little more of what happened to him. And confirmation that he was always meant to be with Kit, which had been already implied in your past chapters.

LOL I love it. It's like Christmas. <3 That made my day that you were so happy to get a three part chapter.

I hope you liked the chapter too.

It was one of the futures he was shown. It's the future that would have come to pass if the Grandfather hadn't interfered. Adrik would have stayed a Jedi, married Kit. Since Human's and Cathar are not biologically compatible, he had to pass the crown to an heir so there was an arrangement for his to have a heir with another Cathar. He has no children.

Yeap, he was supposed to be with her.

Year 3634 Month 7

With a sigh he placed the empty rocks glass on the granite counter. It echoed with a hollow thunk. Running his hands over the smooth brown surface he frowned. Diverting his right hand to follow a golden vein, the mica glinting under his finger, he ran it slowly over the cool stone. It was really pretty and now he really regretted purchasing it. It was expensive. It was a mistake.

He had been saving up credits, thinking that remodeling his apartment was a really good investment. It was in a good location, relatively close to the Senate Tower had a decent view and, for the area, cheap property taxes. Now he doubted he was going to be even able to list the place, he would probably have to sell it way below value. Probably some shady, questionable, backroom deal with one of the many crime syndicate thugs who would sell it and pocket the profit. Profit that he could really use to get far away from here.

Where exactly he didn’t know. He just knew that after this was said and done, he needed to disappear for a while. Hopefully someplace warm, warm and secluded, filled with residents who were to busy keeping their business private to pry into someone else’s.

Sighing he reached for the nearby decanter. Splashing a meager amount of the amber liquid into his waiting rocks glass he set the crystal gently onto the granite counter. Grabbing the glass he held it up to the lights, a short silent toast before he swallowed the warm amber liquid. Mellow, smooth and warming. Nabooian, not the strongest he had. He didn’t want to dive into a bottle, but he doubted he could do this without some liquid encouragement.

Setting it gently next to the decanter he pivoted on his foot. Walking slowly through his apartment he paused by the couch near the entryway. There, in two neatly packed bags, were all the belongings he could safely take with. Biting his lip he, once again, contemplated taking the bags and disappearing into the night. The urge was so strong that he stepped toward the couch. Shaking his head he stopped his foot mid step. Backing away he turned towards the still locked and closed door.

He couldn’t, he would be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. If anyone discovered what he had been searching for in the archives, his own employers would be looking for him to ask him questions. That did scare him, especially after what he had just learned, but they didn’t scare him as much as the others. The other ones who would want to ask him questions. The Mandalorians, the Imperials... the deposed ruler of Cathar. He had to see this through, once that was done then he could slip off into the shadows. He had time on the books, he planned to use it. He needed to get away and figure out what in the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life.

First though he needed to see this part through, he had promised.

Taking a deep breath, he punched the code into the numlock. The lights blinked out, leaving him in darkness. His thumb hovered a moment before depressing the door’s lock, it slid into the wall, revealing the brightly lit corridor. He suddenly felt very exposed. Glancing behind him into the darkened interior he stared at the luggage sitting, waiting on his couch. No, he shook his head, no he had to do this. If he left now he was running and he would never be able to stop.

Walking through the door he only paused long enough to lock it. Lengthening his stride he moved through the spacious hall towards the lift, fast enough to get out of there, not to quickly to draw any attention to himself.

Scratching the back of his head he stared at the waiting protocol droid. It didn’t seem to be operating properly. It’s yellow optic centers would flicker and dim before flashing back to life, only to darken again. So far he had not been able to detect any pattern, it was completely inconsistent. Pulling his blue gaze off the droid, he subtly scanned the area. In the corners overlooking the landing platform were security cameras. Cameras that were not moving. His mouth quirked, they appeared at this distance to be unaltered, but they lacked the subtly blinking lights. They had to be deactivated, though who did it he wasn’t completely sure.

Returning his attention back to the protocol droid he canted his head slightly to the side as he dropped his hand. Behind it stood two taxis, though neither actually had an operating droid within. They were both relatively well maintained, older models and without graffiti. Someone or possibly someones were maintaining the taxi pad, apparently whoever they were, they didn’t want anyone to be able to keep track of their coming and goings.

Cautiously he stepped forward, expecting at any moment to be challenged, his presence here questioned. As he stepped onto the taxi pad the protocol droid’s optic centers briefly flashed before he heard a soft whirring and they faded to darkness. Glancing back behind him, he bit his lip as he considered returning through the darkened corridor.

This was the closest taxi pad to his destination outside the known boundaries of the local crime syndicates; yet oddly it was neat, clean and tidy. There was no debris, loose papers or trash underfoot, no gang symbols marred the walls. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as a shiver coursed down his spine. He didn’t really want to know who was maintaining the taxi pad. Whoever it was, they were professionals. The CorSec’s would have shown up long ago and restored the cameras and the protocol droid to full function, yet they had not marked the taxi as under repair or offline.

As far as the authorities knew, it was still operating within normal parameters. Which meant the droid was probably relaying back a sliced schedule of departures and arrivals and since so few people came here anymore, it was never questioned.

He shivered again.

Looking over his shoulder, yet again, he stepped closer to a waiting taxi. It was fully functional, sleeping idly by in it’s dormant mode. Slipping past the silent droid he cautiously eased his body into the seat. The interior flashed to life, quietly the repulsorliftors engaged as the taxi silently lifted off the durasteel. The shiver returned, coursing through his body causing his skin to p.r.i.c.kle. It was slick, the entire set-up entirely to slick. No electronic recording of a person’s presence here, droid sliced, camera’s non-operational, fully operational, well maintained and silent taxis, it reeked of professionalism and it wasn’t the S.I.S.

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, it took residence with the other thoughts he just couldn’t process right now. If he did he would loose his resolve.

Hand slightly shaking he gripped the taxi’s steering wheel. It responded under his touch, moving quicker than he anticipated. Blue eyes closed as he took a deep breath, he could do this. No one would see him here, it could be denied. He could use the taxi and get this damned business concluded. He did make the mental note to return the taxi to the exact spot he borrowed it from.

Slipping down through the lower levels of the undercity, he again checked the onboard navicomputer. It showed a direct route to his destination but it was so quiet. He didn’t see a single soul as he passed by, only yellowed aged pages of an ancient paper. It was picked up and drifted above the durasteel in the brief current his passage created. It rustled and crinkled as it circled through the air, before again resting on the neglected flooring. He regretted disturbing it, the silence that grew in its stead was amplified. It was so quiet down here, quiet and tomb-like.

Though, he thought, it was a tomb in a way. Hopefully one free of ghosts. He doubted he was going to be that lucky.

The navicomputer chirped, quietly notifying him of his arrival. The awaiting taxi pad was as dark as the one he left, though it was not as neatly maintained. As he guided the taxi he noticed piles of debris and rubbish on the perched on the outer edges of the durasteel pad. The awaiting protocol didn’t move, it was obviously broken, missing an arm and horribly tarnished. It appeared to have stood there all these years, with no one ever making the effort to repair or replace it.

With a sigh he deactivated the taxi, it hummed quietly as it settled onto the durasteel. The hum faded and the silence grew. Waiting he sat in the taxi; no one stepped out of the shadows to contest his presence.

Reluctantly he turned his head to look at the area beyond the taxi pad. There, past the landing, he could see an upper level, accessible by a rather rundown flight of stairs. In the distance, a dimly lit lift in the corner. From the information he was able to obtain, that lift would take him to his destination.

Unmoving he remained in the taxi. Blue eyes stared at the distant shadow shrouded lift, almost willing someone, anyone to contest his presence here, to question his intent. But nothing happened, no one came.

Shaking his head, he moved to exit the resting vehicle. Heavy feet moved onto the durasteel. The sound seemed to ring through the air, chastising him for being here. He silently agreed, he shouldn’t be. Didn’t really have a choice though, and dragging his feet it was only postponing the inevitable. He had to get out of this taxi and to the lift, he wasn’t sure what waited him on the other side, but stalling wasn’t going to do him any good. He wanted to get this over with.

Sighing he pushed off out of his seat. Better to get this over with, he had no idea how long it was going to take. Refusing to look behind, he focused on the lift. One heavy foot followed the other as he walked over the neglected landing pad. The distance seemed to drag on and he slowly made his way up the stairs. He could see faded scorch marks on the walls, old reminders of blaster bolts that had missed their marks.

Returning his focus to the lift he pushed their presence out of his mind, he really didn’t want to think about when they were placed there.

The doors loomed before him, scorched and rust spotted. They were no less welcoming up close.

Resisting the urge to look behind him, he slowly brought his right hand up. It hovered over the lift’s cracked numpad. Quickly he depressed the button. The lift doors silently slid open. His hand hovered at his side, that was unexpected. They didn’t stick or protest, goosebumps coursed over his skin. The lift was being maintained. Half turning, he stared at the shadows behind him. Nothing moved, no one materialized out of the darkness to take credit for the work.

Blowing a heavy breath through his lips he returned his attention to the open doors of the lift. Forcing duracrete feet into the interior he pivoted to touch the control panel. Before his fingers brushed the surface the doors silently slid shut and it began it’s upward ascent.

Smoothly the lift came to a stop, it’s doors obediently opening. Taking a deep breath he stepped out into a dimly lit anti-chamber. His boots crunched on the stone littered floor. Squinting in the abysmal lighting he carefully moved, trying to avoid the shattered masonry and crumbling statues that covered the ground before him. An over-turned couch crouched behind him, awkwardly backed against the wall. Cautiously he picked his way past; pausing to examine the flaking wall. Fingers reached out brushing the gilded plaster, it crumbled under his touch, flaking to dust, drifting to the floor.

He pulled his hand away, watching the disintegrating plaster floating in the air, it managed to catch the low light and glinted before disappearing. Sighing he pulled his hand back to his side, turning he continued on through the destroyed room. His footfalls made entirely to much noise as he crept through, echoing and sc******. Inwardly he cringed, if anyone was here, they would hear him long before he found them.

A rolling clink sounded to his right, jumping he turned towards the source. He didn’t see anything moving in the rubble. Carefully he moved towards the sound, when the entire area was flooded with light. Squinting he gazed upward, through the shattered ceiling the Coruscante sun was streaming. Brightly illuminating the ruined building. Hand shielding his eyes he scanned the devastation.

He shivered. It was catastrophic.

He had heard of the attack, who hadn’t? The shiver returned, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. Nothing had been cleaned up, nothing had been restored. The place had been abandoned. It was their home and they had fled, utterly abandoning it. Blue eyes skipped from cracked masonry, to shattered support beams and countless piles of stone and durasteel rubble. He had thought the place was a tomb, now he wondered if the musing was more fact than he realized.

“My, my, my... what have we here?” A husky voice sounded behind him.

He jumped, turning to look at the speaker. An uncontrolled tremor course through him. The young man before him was clothed head to toe in black and dark brown robes, a hilt hanging off his hip. Long, copper-red hair hung loose reaching past his shoulders. Looking up he had to tilt his head backwards to look into the young man’s face, his frowning face. Striking dark blue eyes stared down at him, the unknown speaker’s lips pressed into a frown.

His mouth opened, but no words came, his tongue failed him.

“Are you lost?” The young man stepped closer, causing him to back up. “You look lost, only real explanation.” His frown deepened. “If you mean to be here well, you can only be a looter.” The young man stepped even closer, he tripped backward stumbling over the debris covered ground. “I don’t like looters.”

“I…I...” he stuttered.

“I?” The young man stepped closer. “I? Now that is neither helpful nor informative.” The young man stopped, towering over him. His copper haired head tilted to the side, “Now that I get a better look at you, your attire it is entirely to clean to be a common looter. I think you could possibly be some sort of relic hunter, maybe a tomb raider, or,” he dismissively waved his hand, “lost.” He bent slightly at the waist, eyes narrowing as the dark blue momentarily melted into a bright orange.

His blue eyes widened as he pushed his body further into the debris covered floor, hands sc****** on broken masonry. “I,” he stammered.

“I,” the young man echoed as a chilling grin graced his lips. His hand drifted to his waist, long fingers grabbing the ancient looking hilt that hung there. “I do hope, if you are lost, your loved ones do not spend to much time looking for you.” A click echoed as he watched the hilt detach from the young man’s belt; his heart pounding attempting to flee his chest.

“Gev.”

His head swiveled towards the speaker. His heart nearly lept out of his throat. Standing there behind the taller Human was the light blue, armor clad, form of Kiernan. The young man didn’t turn to look, he simply shrugged and continued to stare down at him. “Tion’jor?”

Kiernan’s ivory horned head shook, “Aliit tomad.” He stepped around the Human, his broader shouldered body partially blocking the younger man.

He stared up at them, at their faces. Kiernan continued to shift his body between his and the young man’s. The dull realization crept through that the young man before him wasn’t a Jedi, none of the Jedi he had met were that aggressive, but Sith were. And his eyes, he stared back up to the cold dark blue eyes that were glaring at him. A Jedi’s eyes didn’t change colour like that.

He shivered as Kiernan’s head turned to look down at him, his eyes locked onto the Zabrak’s green ones and caught the subtle shaking of Kiernan’s head. Swallowing he briefly nodded his head, trying to shrink his body as he scooted closer to Kiernan.

“Meg?” The young man groused.

“Buir.” Kiernan answered, continuing to place his body between them.

“Meg?”

“Adrik, kaysh burc’ya.” Kiernan’s hand drifted to his side, fingers flexing. “Kaden meh gar kyr’amur kaysh.”

The young man’s eyes left his and jumped to Kiernan. “Meg?” A smile grew on his lips, as white teeth flashed. “Gar ra Buir?”

Kiernan didn’t answer, instead violet flashed between his fingers.

“Priusti?” The young man seemed to be completely ignoring the small violet lightning storm playing between Kiernan’s spread fingers.

“Ne.” Kiernan bit as the sparks grew larger in his hanging hand. “Tayli’bac?” he growled.

“’lek, ‘lek nayc nuhur.” The young man grumbled, his smile vanishing in a heartbeat. He glared frowning as he slowly reattached the saber to his belt. “Meg kaysh gai?”

“Agent Jonas Balker,” Kiernan growled.

“Jetiise?” The young man questioned, bending to look past Kiernan, storm blue eyes boring into him.

“Elek, Jetiise.” Kiernan answered, shifting to block the young Human’s view.

“So,” the young man side stepped around Kiernan, “you are friends with Adrik and an agent in the employ of the Republic.”

He nodded his head, “I… I am.”

“And your name is Jonas Balker?”

Again he nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

A large grin broke out on the young man’s face, “Outstanding, so you were not lost after all?”

Jonas shook his head no, “I was looking,” he swallowed, “I was looking for him.”

“For whom?” The young man asked.

“For Kiernan.”

“Knows your name does he, does he know mine?”

“Nayc,” Kiernan shook his head, “never needed to know it. You are not home yet,” Kiernan snapped. “Still slinking and playing in Jetiise space.”

“But where are you manners? Buir would be so disappointed.” The young man smirked.

Kiernan growled. Briskly gesturing towards the young copper haired Human, “This is Ka’van.”

“Ka’van what?” the Human prompted barely keeping the laughter out of his voice.

Sighing Kiernan shook his head, “Ka’van Darksun, ner vod.”

“And?” the newly named Ka’van sing sang.

“Bal Jetti Master.”

“Jetti...” Jonas whispered, “Jedi?”

Kiernan snorted, “Likes to pretend, ‘lek.”

Ka’van rolled his eyes, “It is fun, gets me into many interesting places.”

Kiernan sighed, muttering something under his breath Jonas could not understand.

Jonas stared at the duo before him, two Sith pretending to be something else, both able to freely move. He needed to move, he needed to track down this lead and be done with mess.

Kiernan’s head snapped toward him, as his armored body pivoted toward him. “What do you have?”

“I… I…” Jonas stammered.

“By the Force can’t that man complete a sentence?” Ka’van muttered running his hand through his loose locks.

“Shut it,” Kiernan growled, shooting him a scathing side glare.

Frowning, the Human stopped mouth open. Violently crossing his arms across his black robed chest Ka’van closed his lips.

“What is it Agent?” Kiernan pressed, his voice was softer.

Jonas pulled his gaze off the Human, he focused on the Zabrak before him. “I… I,” he swallowed, trying desperately to compose his thoughts. “I have a lead, place to look.”

“For Adrik?” Kiernan gently asked.

Jonas nodded, “Yes.” He turned to look at the Human, “need to get off this planet.”

Kiernan nodded, “Not a problem, where?”

“Not entirely sure. Have coordinates.”

“We go,” his horned head swiveled toward Ka’van. “Done here?”

“For the most part yes. Managed to get the Gatekeeper to talk to me, something to study at a later time.”

“Good,” Kiernan turned walking away from them. “Hurry up, talk details on way to ships.” His horned head looked back over his shoulder, “You will behave Vod.”

In front of him the Human, Ka’van, sighed. “He takes all the fun out of it, come on Agent, we better catch up.” Ka’van looked at him, “You know where the coordinates lead?”

Jonas shook his head, “Not really no, have a rough idea.”

“So why are you going there?”

“Told my friend I would help.”

“Then we need to catch up, can’t help him from here and Kiernan, he will leave without us.” Ka’van started walking quickly after the distant Zabrak.

Numbly Jonas nodded to the back of Ka’van’s head, the motion unseen. His feet slid on the broken debris as he stood. The copper haired Human was quickly eating the distance to the unseen door. Taking a deep breath Jonas started to quickly follow. This was probably the dumbest thing he was ever going to do, but he had to. He knew if the shoe was on the other foot he would want someone to do it for him. Then once it was all finished he was going to slip away someplace warm and secluded.

Mando’a

Gev - Stop it

Tion’jor - Why

Aliit tomad – clan ally

Meg- which, what, that, who

kaysh burc’ya – his friend.

Kaden meh gar kyr'amur kaysh «Angry if you kill him»

Gar ra Buir – you or mom/dad/parent

priusti – well

ne – I, me Tayli’bac- got it? okay? understand? often very aggressive

‘lek, nayc nuhur - yeah yeah no fun

Meg kaysh gai – what his name

Jetiise – Republic

ner vod – my brother/sibling

bal- and

Jetii – Jedi

So, I have had a lot going on in my personal life lately. I honestly can not remember if I have made the following comment. If I am repeating myself, 1k pardons.

So Jonas. When I originally wrote this, my only exposure to him was through the Trooper story line. It was before the short with him and Theron on the Forums, it was long before the Forged Alliances/Revan expansion. I have debated, extensively about adding Theron. Ultimately I have decided not to add him, there is no reason too, since in the original class stories you do not encounter him.

That is why Jonas is going in solo and not getting Theron involved. My original take with him, in this situation, I felt like he was an information gatherer and not a field agent, per se. That he would feel off balanced and out of his element. If I had changed my mind and included parts of the expansion Jonas would have been written to include his friendship with Theron and the fact he occasionally did field work would have come into play, changing how he would have reacted.

I am having a bit of trouble writing Jonas and discounting the information you later learn about him. Hopefully I will do him justice.

Ka'van looks like he likes to scare people.

Yes, Ka'van can be a real jerk sometimes. It does make him fun to write though. I had to reign him in too, he really scared the bejeebers outta Jonas.

light ones for SW references and item used in Act 1

Year 3634 month 7

“I have something you are going to want to see,” the blued projected form of Nox grinned.

“What are you talking about?” Kit sighed.

Nox shrugged, “Are you finished traipsing about the galaxy?”

“Seriously Nox what is going on?” Kit's patience was quickly eroding away. “I wasn’t traipsing about, we were investigating a Sith Archeological Site on Dathomir, remember? You were invited to join us.”

Nox waved her hand dismissively; it caught Kit by surprise. She was still baffled as to why Nox passed up the invitation. Her cousin was up to something and she was going to make her play her game to find out what. “Alright Nox, where are you?”

“The Temple,” Nox started to grin. “Come by when you have the chance, I will wait for you. It is such a lovely place and Khem is enjoying himself.”

“Wonderful,” Kit sighed, she hated going into the Dark Temple. “I will be there, we are in orbit above the planet.”

“Excellent,” Nox clapped, “Oh and bring the Prince with you.”

Kit sighed blowing her bangs out of her face as Nox cut the connection.

“What was that about?” Adrik asked slipping his arms around her waist.

“Oh it's Nox, being Nox. I agreed to meet her at the Dark Temple when we land. She wants you to come with me.”

“Why?” Adrik shuddered resting his head on her shoulder.

“She wouldn't say, apparently she wants to show us something.”

“I wonder what it is?”

“No idea but we will find out in about an hour or so, I am going to bring the Chimera home.”

“Oh,” he grumbled against her neck, “So no shopping at the Fleet?”

“I'm sorry,” she rotated in his arms, “I know better than to leave Nox unattended, I will make it up to everyone, I promise.”

He rumbled into her neck as he kissed the bare skin, “I am going to hold you to that. I will bring her in, you go break the news to your crew.”

“Oh thanks,” she muttered as he dropped his arms and moved out of the room, disappearing from view as he made his way onto the bridge.

“So, we get to go in there?” Adrik frowned staring at the ominous valley below; the ancient stonework reaching towards the dark sky.

“Yes,” Kit sighed. “I’m not to thrilled about it either, at least its not raining.” She frowned as she looked overhead watching the sun struggle to break through the thick cloud cover.

“I thought you liked the rain.” Adrik stood next to her staring at the sprawling Temple complex.

“I do, there is something going on. Why Nox wants us to meet her in there, it doesn’t make any sense. For all her posturing she doesn’t like the Temple anymore than I do.” Kit moved forward walking down the rocky path, picking up the hem of her robe as she descended deeper into the valley. She heard Adrik walking behind her, his presence comforting even though he was fighting to control the fear he was feeling. She paused in her descent, turning to gently lay her black armored hand on his black robed arm, the fabric bunching beneath her beskar clad fingers. “I won't lie to you, that place will get under your skin, cause you to question … everything. Your identity, your abilities, your sanity. Shield yourself, anchor yourself, cling to the knowledge you do know who you are, the voices are wrong. Remember that, they are wrong. Stay with me.”

He swallowed hard; the sound seemed to echo. “Let your barrier down.” He looked her in the eye, his violet irises slowly losing ground to fear enlarged pupils. “Please let me feel you, I hate feeling walled off from you. It's easier to go into a dark place like that when I can feel you next to me.”

“Really,” she looked at him perplexed; “I thought that leaving the bond open overwhelmed you.”

“No,” he shook his head, “It doesn’t. I hate the fact you work to keep it blocked. It's a giant wall. Please Kit lower it, I don’t understand why you hate it.”

“I don't hate it.”

“Then why?” he interrupted, “Why block it? Why reject it?” She felt him shudder under her hand.

“I don't.”

“Yes,” he whispered, the shaking in his arm grew it became a steady tremor. “Yes you do. I didn't mean to do it. I just couldn't leave you. You were … dying, so I followed my instinct and brought you back, and you keep me walled off. My whole life I have been kept at arms length except when I was with you and now you are doing it. I know it's not perfect, that we have to get used to it, that it is work to control the quirks but I don't feel whole anymore when you keep the Bond repressed. Please,” he stepped closer, “please embrace it, I can't take it anymore.”

“I thought you didn’t like it, that it scared you, I felt fear through it.” Kit shook her head, her brow furrowed.

“I was scared, so much has happened to me, and then to almost loose you, to see you in that tank clinging to life. I was terrified, if I lost you what did I have left? The side effects are interesting but they are not life changing.”

“Okay,” Kit nodded. Taking a deep break she lowered the Force fueled barrier that blocked the Bond she shared with Adrik. Suddenly a warmth slammed into her center radiating out through her core. Under her fingers Adrik shuddered stepping closer. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath adjusting to the strong warmth, gasping as she slowly grew accustomed to its fiery pulse; she felt her senses sharpen, the damp smells of the rocky path heightened, the soft tumbling of a disturbed stone. She swallowed almost growling as she fought her aggravation, annoyance at having to meet Nox in this damned cursed place.

Her hand was shoved between them as Adrik closed the distance, enveloping her in his arms. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble as he bent to kiss her neck. She felt a sharp pulse of desire that lingered before slowing fading, as Adrik quelled his emotions. A shaky breath on her neck as he kissed her once more before withdrawing.

“I didn’t realize how you felt.”

Adrik lifted up her chin, his eyes glowing. Leaning forward he gently kissed her. “Thank you,” his lips brushing against hers. “Lets get this over with.” She felt a strong wave of conviction. Nodding she let go of his arm, sliding her armored fingertips along his cheek. Leaning into his robed form she returned his gentle kiss, briefly deepening it as she bit his lower lip. Suddenly the urge to leave came over her, to leave Nox and return to the Estate, Kit let her tongue caress his lower lip, briefly running over his fangs. Adrik growled and the urge to leave disappeared, she wanted to stay but she was again struck with the odd resolve to get this trip over with. She never really cared about making Nox happy only about keeping things an acceptable destructive minimum. This had to be coming from Adrik. She broke the kiss gently, disentangling herself from his embrace.

“Satisfied?” he growled.

“With you? Always. It is a bit disconcerting. You... you want this?” She looked at him searching his face.

He growled, stepping closer, again wrapping his arms around her. He buried his nose into her neck; a sudden warmth flooded her core, causing her to gasp. His breath was warm as he chuckled against her bare skin.

“Is that a yes?” she whispered as his embrace tightened. The warmth immediately grew, expanding causing her fingers and toes to tingle. Cautiously she reached out through the Force. There was a connection between the two of them bright and shining, their signatures had become so similar. Closing her eyes she pushed out along the ethereal connection; his breath was warm on her neck as he chuckled low in his throat.

“We have to get used to it, find out what exactly it does,” Adrik's voice rumbled.

Kit nodded, “Alright,” she whispered.

His arms tightened about her, “Don’t be scared.”

“Scared, I am not,” she shook her head.

“You are trembling. Whats the matter?” his voice edged with concern.

“Am I? I didn’t realize I was. Is this what you feel when I don’t block it? It's amazing, I feel such a warmth.”

“Yes,” he gently brushed his lips along her neck, “it is, come lets go. Lets get this over with, see what Nox wants.”

“Where is she in this place?” Adrik muttered staring around the expansive complex. His eyes shifted to the vaulted ceiling scanning the dark stone.

“I think I know,” she stared out across the dusty tiled floor. She moved her hand to the hilt hanging on her hip. “Stick close,” she spoke quietly, “this place should be relatively empty. The excavation teams that were assigned here have been... relocated.”

“Relocated?” he questioned.

She looked at him over her shoulder shaking her head. She was being rather kind, but going into detail about how the Temple has been cleaned out of the possessed workers and slaves would not be a wise idea. Now the Temple was mostly deserted, the rare Sith or Reclamation team occasionally still walked the expansive halls, but never for long, it wasn’t safe to linger here.

“Come this way,” she motioned to a dark hallway.

He nodded stepping closer, his hand gripping his saber hilt. “Do you feel her?”

Kit shook her head no, “I'm not going to open myself up in this place. I had to come here once when I was younger, Nox knows this.” She picked her way along the dormant hall; small eddies of dust swirling at their passage. “It is close by, up here,” she paused drawing a shaky breath. She stared down the darkened hallway towards the room she knew lay beyond. It had been years since the thought of the place had even crossed her mind.

“Whats the matter?” his voice was a quiet rumble; somehow it managed not to echo.

She bit her lip, looking over at him. “Years ago I came here to do the bidding of my K'lor'slug of a Master. He had me retrieve this artifact. The thing was horrible, beyond cruel.”

“Why did he want this artifact?” She felt him step closer.

She sighed, it shook her shoulders, “To torture someone. He was unable to get any answers by conventional methods. He delighted in it, it was sickening. It was unnecessary.” Kit moved towards him. “There are other ways to get information, torture is unreliable, statements often said under duress are false, they are said to make the pain stop.” Kit gestured down the dimly lit hall, “I found that blasted thing down here.”

“Where is this thing now?”

“I actually returned it here, with my Master dead, I am the only one who knows its location.”

“Lets hope that is still true,” he rumbled.

“Yes,” she nodded, turning her head to look again down the hall.

“We should keep moving,” Adrik rumbled in her ear.

“Agreed,” she moved further down the hallway, in moments she reached the threshold to the dusty almost forgotten chamber. Ahead a pale yellow glow flickered. Moving towards the light, the backlit silhouette of Nox came into focus. To the side of the room, partially obscured in the long shadows cast by the rooms sole light was a familiar outline of a torture table. It was hard to tell at this distance but the table appeared to be occupied.

Adrik stepped along side her, touching her armored hand. Kit crept into the room, head held high, shoulders back, gait steady. Internally she was screaming; this felt like a set-up who or what could possibly be on that table? Had Nox found that damned relic? Suddenly she was filled with a steady surge of warmth. Glancing at Adrik out of the corner of her eye she saw him look at her, brow raised.

She gave him a curt nod, returning it he raised the cowl on his robe, concealing his head and face so only his glowing blue eyes were visible. Shoulder to shoulder they crossed the room, pausing by a pacing Nox.

“Took you long enough,” Nox muttered.

“We came here directly, Nox,” Kit retorted her tone icy.

“But you are here now!” Nox exclaimed gesturing with her hands, “Come see your little prize.” She motioned to the shrouded table. The table's outline was distinct beneath the thick grey cloth that covered it and the rather lumpy form of a humanoid.

Kit's eyes widened, Force be damned what had Nox done? Who was under that fabric? Keeping her face emotionless, her voice calm, Kit spoke, “What do we have here?”

Nox giggled, clasping her green hands before her, “Oh you will love it! Rather difficult to get too! Quite the entertaining challenge!” Nox moved her hand and the thick cloth slid off the table. Beside her Adrik gasped as Nox clapped. “Hope you like it!”

Before her strapped to the table was a figure dressed in dirty brown robes, their face was covered with a dark brown cloth bag. Adrik growled stepping past her, his slow measured footsteps carrying him to the table. His hand reached out grabbing the brown material, yanking it off with a snarl. Kit stared confused as she was hit with an overwhelming wave of rage. Adrik's low menacing growl filled the chamber. She looked at her Mate his shoulders were sparking as his body shook. Kit looked back at the figure strapped to the table.

His huge frame filled most of the table. The man was visibly furious; his jaw clenched shut. Kit stared at him, she had no idea who this unknown man was. His hair was nearly completely silver, only a few dark brown streaks remained, his facial fur was heavily greyed. His yellow and brown eyes smouldered with unvoiced rage.

Kit couldn’t tear her eyes off of him, “Who is this man? Do you know him Adrik?”

“Yes,” Adrik bit, “I do, this man,” he spat, “Is my Grandfather.”

Prompt is Gifts.

Spoilers, light ones for SW references and item used in Act 1

Timeline, immediately after last chapter

“Your Grandfather,” Kit whispered, stepping closer.

“Yes!” Nox clapped, “One Jedi Knight Vetrov, tricky Shutta spawn to track down too. He has yet to tell me any of his little secrets though. I decided to wait for you. Let everyone's favorite Prince have a crack at him.”

“How thoughtful of you Nox,” Adrik growled.

Kit'ar stared at him shocked. That is not how her Mate acted, what in the nine hells was going on?

“I do have some questions for... this... wretch.” Adrik snarled, fangs bared.

“Adrik what is going on?” Kit whispered.

“Do you not remember him Wrath?” Nox questioned as she came to stand beside her. Kit stared at the restrained Cathar slowly shaking her head.

“Oh that’s right, that's all blocked.” Nox waved her hands, “Though that might change after today.” Nox laughed. “So,” Nox stepped closer, stopping at the foot of the slanted metal table. “What shall we ask him first? I do think considering all the trouble he caused, he should tell me how he knew about our little trip to Taris.”

“I would like to know that as well,” Adrik growled, his voice held an edge Kit could not identify.

The strapped down Cathar stared past them, looking at the ceiling, ignoring them.

“Tell us,” Adrik growled, throwing the cloth bag onto the ground.

Silence was the response. Kit watched shocked as lightning started snapping, golden bolts licking Adrik's arms. She knew he was going to electrocute him.

“Oh,” Nox giggled, “Your control is much better furrball. Should probably tell him, there is still a chance this little family reunion could end on happy terms.”

“No,” Adrik snarled, “that's not possible.”

“Oh,” Nox's tattooed brow wrinkled as her eyebrow arched. “Someone has a secret,” she sing-sang.

Kit stared unmoving as Nox stepped beside Adrik, violet lightning gathering in between her fingers. The two of them were standing beside each other; Nox's grin was huge. Kit shook her head, no this wasn't right. There were questions this man could answer, but to electrocute his blood to get them? Why was Adrik even considering this? This was not like him.

Quickly she stepped closer, placing her body between Nox's and Adrik's. “Wait,” her voice was to soft, swallowing she tried again, managing to speak with more conviction. “Wait, violence is not always the answer.”

Nox snorted, “So says the Emperor's Wrath. At times I do wonder what kind of Sith you are.”

Kit ignored the insult; this was her Mate's blood, his estranged grandfather, long lost kin. You didn’t torture kin, Great Grandfather had always stressed that, you look after your family. “Why, why were you on Taris? How did you even know we were there?” Kit gently prodded.

The Cathar actually looked at Kit, his face curled up in a sneer. “That stupid, idiotic, insolent, kit's message.”

A low growl poured from Adrik's throat as his fists clenched.

“The dead drop message to Timmns,” Kit whispered. Nox turned to look at her; thankfully she remained silent.

Adrik's grandfather smiled, it sent a chill down her spine. This man hated his grandchild. His anger, his hatred was so thick Kit could have reached out and touched it. “How did that message send you to Taris? I don’t...” Kit shook her head, she was to confused to even put up an icy front.

Adrik snarled, “It didn’t, that message was to alert Timmns to my death. He is toying with us.” The lightning flowing down his arms intensified. “Tell us why you were on Taris, why.”

His grandfather wrinkled his upper lip, fangs exposed. “Fools surrounded by fools.”

“Why follow us? Why not let him stay dead?” Kit asked.

“Foolish child,” the Cathar hissed, “I knew he wasn’t dead, I never felt him pass.”

Kit'ar stepped closer, “Why haven’t you contacted Adrik? Why did you abandon him?”

“The whelp wasn’t useful.” The Cathar's eyes narrowed as he stared at Adrik.

Adrik's growl deepened. Kit reached out laying her hand on his sparking arm inhaling sharply when the gathered lightning shocked her. The whelp wasn’t useful, useful. He knew, the grandfather knew what had happened to Adrik, he knew his connection had been severed but why? A sick feeling churned in her stomach. Adrik would be easier to control if he was Force-blind. What kind of monster would to that to a child? But why sever his connection and then abandon him? But Adrik wasn’t lost, living on the streets, he was an enlisted man, easy to keep tabs on. Kit's stomach rolled, heaving, sending acid up her throat. Hidden in plain sight, unwanted but followed. Unless he was needed.

She inhaled sharply, fighting acid in her throat. Unless he was needed. Her blood ran cold, sending *****les along her skin. He was needed, he is a prince, heir to a substantial territory and due to his distinctive and unusual looks his claim would not be contested when he steps forward to claim the clans under his control. Control, oh karking hell, he was kept alive because of his claim, his claws dulled by the severing, left discarded in the military until the time came he was needed. He was the youngest of four, the only one in his litter, with his family missing, his uncle imprisoned, Adrik was the rightful heir, but if he was also missing it would pass to another family member.

He wasn’t needed unless there was a succession problem.

She couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice, “You kept him sequestered away in the Republic military until you needed him for his claim.”

“Close,” the elder Cather growled.

“No,” Adrik snarled, “he is lying. This had nothing to do with succession.”

His grandfather looked at Adrik frowning.

“Yes,” Kit argued, “it does, he has someone sitting in your seat he can control. It kept the planet out of the Empire. With your family out of the picture no one would question him.”

“No,” Adrik growled, “that is not the main reason, that was nothing but a perk.”

“What do you mean?” Kit stared at her furious Mate. “Why else would he have gone through the trouble to track us down to Taris? He needed to confirm whether you were alive.”

“To damn smart,” Adrik'd grandfather muttered, “always to damn smart.”

Kit stepped closer to Adrik. “What are you talking about? How do you know me?”

The Cathar just sneered.

Adrik shook his head, “He knows you, he hated you too. You lived with us on Cathar. He knew you.” Lightning surged down Adrik's arms gathering between his fingers. A sudden surge of anger slammed into her, flaming hot. Nox laughed.

“He hates us, we were small kits and he hated us,” Adrik growled, his voice raw with rage. “He had them sever my connection because of my attachment to you.”

“What...” Kit'ar gasped.

“It's true, why he was on Taris I don’t know, but he is behind this damned Force block.”

“Why I don’t understand, we were little kids.”

“There was a vision, a premonition that I as a Jedi Master fell to the Dark Side, seduced by a Sith. Seduced by you. He refused to allow it to happen. His damn pride would not allow it. You hear that Grandfather, it was for nothing. I remember who I am and I am mated to this woman.”

“You useless idiot, she will only use you.” Adrik's grandfather snarled.

“Wrong,” Adrik hissed, lightning snapping, “for the last two years, she has been the best thing that ever happened to me. The only one to use me was you.”

“You damned fool. When I get out of here and drag you back to Tython I will finish what I started years ago.”

The man's tone sent a shiver down Kit's spine. “Finish what?”

The Cathar smiled, it lowered the room's temperature. “You were never good enough for someone of the Royal Bloodlines, nothing but a Sith-spawned Human. I knew his idiot *** would still seek you out, so I was working to remove the problem.”

“I was the problem?” Kit whispered.

“You always were,” The Cathar snarled.

“What... what did you do?”

That icy smile returned, “Why I eliminated the problem. The galaxy is a better place without the tainted touch of the Sith. I have to admit it was challenging.”

She stared at that frigid smile, her stomach churning. Eliminated the problem, less Sith. “No,” Kit breathed shaking her head, “you didn't.”

“To smart for your own good.” Pointed fangs flashed as his smile widened. “Search your feelings you know it's true.”

She grasped Adrik's arm harder, her knees grew weak, “You didn't...”

“Oh I did,” Adrik's grandfather gloated. “Council never made a move to stop me.”

“No,” Kit slumped against Adrik, she felt arms wrap around her. “No... my Mother,” Kit whispered, her voice barely audible.

“A difficult fight, tried to make it fast since she was unarmed. I did underestimate her. Though in the end it didn’t matter, her cause of death was so hard to determine.” The Cathar chuckled; it drove right through Kit's spine. “Falling that far out of a tree will do that to you. Though that damn boy was convenient, easy to single out during the fighting on Coruscant.”

“No,” Kit stared at the aged Cathar sneering at her on the table, “It's not possible...”

“Yes, but sadly I was ordered to stop, even though I was not finished. So, I tried another tactic. It is amazing how weak willed some Sith are, persuading that Pureblood she had to have that half blood Zabrak. She only had to kill you to get him. Idiot botched that one you lived. I had such high hopes too, considering how useful she had been in arranging that little accident that got rid of that little arranged fiance of yours.

Kit leaned against Adrik, legs trembling; she didn’t know how she still stood. “You killed them.”

“I did, still disappointed I was not able to kill you. That is something I shall remedy shortly.”

“Who did he kill?” Nox asked her voice distant, it was as if she had just joined the conversation.

“He, he was responsible for my Mother, for Syri, my brother... for Tyzoth.” Kit whispered.

“What.” Nox hissed.

“He killed your mother?” Adrik rumbled.

“Yes,” she nodded into his chest. “He killed them all.”

“Not all,”Adrik's grandfather snarled, “you and your cursed father are still breathing.”

“Nox,” Adrik growled, “get her out of here. I have heard enough.”

“What are you going to do?” Nox's voice was like ice. Kit felt a second pair of hands grasp her.

“This man is nothing,” Adrik snarled, “My Grandfather died years ago, I have to cleanse my family’s honor.”

Kit felt fingers gently tugging, pulling her away from Adrik. Numbly she let go of him, allowing her body to be pulled away.

“Is it going to hurt?” Nox asked.

“Yes, his screams will echo throughout the Temple; his death will be slow and when he is no more he will be forgotten. He will be denied the ability to join our ancestors, his body will rot, no funeral pyre will light his way.”

“Good,” Nox growled. “Her mother was my mother, her loss has been immeasurable. Make him suffer.”

Kit heard the snap hiss of a saber igniting. Adrik's low rumbling voice filled the room, but it barely penetrated the haze she was in. “I Adrik Katayev, Prince of Cathar, heir to Shange, have heard your crimes. You are guilty of treason against the Clans, against your Prince.” Adrik growled his voice growling more savage as he spoke. “For the cold blooded murder of those welcomed under our protection, of allies of Clan Katayev and for physical harm conferred upon your Prince I sentence you to death.”

“You don’t have the stomach for it, you are to soft,” his grandfather snarled.

Adrik's responding laugh chilled her, “Once perhaps, but after what you did to me... I am no Jedi Grandfather.”

“Come along,” Nox whispered, “we need to go. We need to get to your father, tell him what has happened.”

Numbly Kit nodded, allowing Nox to gently move her down the hall. Adrik's voice followed her, a low gravely rumble that faded with each step. “I will cleanse the stain you have caused upon the family's honor, the Clan's honor.

When they entered the massive common room of the Temple, a pained howl echoed down the hall, a burning hot jolt of anger flooded her and suddenly it was gone. It felt as if a door was slammed in her face. The anger was gone, the warm connection severed. Kit cried out, stumbling, falling into Nox. Her cousin’s arms wrapped around her tighter. “It is better that you don't feel that. You and I both know you won't handle it well. Come the Estate is close, lets get you home.”

Kit nodded, resuming her walk through the Temple on duracrete feet, cringing when another howling scream echoed down the hall.

Prompt: Gifts

I would also like to note, I borrowed with Alaurin's blessing part of Adrik's judgement/sentencing. I really liked it when I read it in her fan fic.