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Rise of the Black Sun


YoshiRaphElan

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Well, it's here. I haven't finished Makeb yet but I just couldn't wait to continue my characters' story, so here we go. Some minor spoilers for Makeb may apply, and definitely Act 1-3 spoilers for all classes. Aaand...here we go!

 

Prologue

 

Stepping onto the speeder platform of the Nar Shaddaa promenade, Merok glanced around. He felt out of place in his outfit, but he knew it was for the best–especially since he was here for Republic SIS and not the Empire. If anyone from the Empire saw him doing this, his cover would be blown.

 

He scratched absently at the leg of his leather pants and wished he could be back in something more befitting a member of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force. His jacket was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving his chest bare. His pistol was hidden under the jacket. He frowned. He hated being exposed like this–perfect opportunity for a sniper to pick him off–but his wife, Raina, was certainly enjoying the view.

 

It was only fair, though, because so was he. Clad in red loungewear, she looked nothing so much like a stripper in one of Nar Shaddaa's casinos. Unfortunately, the bikini allowed no hiding place for a blaster, so Raina was relying on Scorpio, up on the next level armed with a Verpine shatter gun, to protect her in case of combat. However, Merok had hidden an extra holdout blaster in his boot, so he could throw it to her in an emergency.

 

With a sigh of relief, Merok caught sight of his contact. He started forward, Raina on his flank. His contact looked up and saw him, widened his eyes, and sprinted away. Merok rolled his eyes. Oh, no. Apparently, the news of Merok's defection had gotten lost in the chain of command, and this agent still assumed he was Cipher Nine, late of Imperial Intelligence.

 

"Raina," he said, "stay here."

 

He took off after the agent. The human man took a dive off the speeder pad. Merok groaned and, with minimal hesitation, leapt after him. The man had a speeder parked several meters below, and he crashed into the pilot's seat and took off. Merok barely caught hold of the rear brake light. He pulled himself into the passenger's seat, his head under the dash and his feet over the seat and sticking into the air. He started to sit up–

 

And found himself staring into the barrel of a Republic-issue blaster pistol.

 

"Would you like to buy a room," he said hastily.

 

"No, I'll be leaving tonight," the agent replied in relief. "Theron Shan."

 

"Merok. Let's make this fast, I may have a watcher."

 

"No pun intended, right?"

 

Merok nodded. "Right."

 

"Okay, so–"

 

Suddenly, a blaster bolt shot overhead. Merok scrambled into the seat, frowning. He glanced back. Two speeder cars and two bikes came after them.

 

"What's going on?" Merok asked as Theron shot the speeder forward.

 

"Black Sun," he said grimly. "They're after me. I think."

 

Merok nodded. "All right. Transmit your information to my ship–" he gave him the information, "–and get out."

 

"Where are you...?"

 

Merok leapt out of the car, letting the rest of Theron's question trail off. He pressed a button on his wrist comlink, sighing in relief that he had remembered to wear it. His speeder bike flew up on autopilot. Merok grabbed the handlebars as he fell by and grunted as his arms were nearly pulled out of socket.

 

"Ouch," he muttered.

 

He glanced behind him. One of the speeder cars had peeled off after him, driven by a human, with a Zabrak and two more humans in the back seat, shooting at Merok.

 

"Great," he hissed.

 

He roared off and activated his comlink.

 

"Raina," he said, "find me a building nearby, with windows large enough for me to fit through on my bike but too large for an Aratech speeder car."

 

"Processing," Raina replied. "Got one. Kilometer to your west."

 

Merok nodded to himself. "Got it. Thanks."

 

Merok shot around the next bend, headed for the building in the distance. He pulled out his blaster, turned, and fired once, unsure if it hit anyone. He reached the building and opened fire on the window, which shattered. Then he shot inside the building. The Black Sun thugs, unfortunately, didn't continue on, they went around. Merok veered sharply upward and back toward the spaceport.

 

* * *

 

Dha rubbed Mako's back as they looked down on the Nar Shaddaa skyline. They were here looking for Gault's old friend, Hylo Visz, at the Devaronian's request. Currently, Gault was in a coma after saving Mako's life and, indirectly, that of the baby she now cradled in her arms.

 

"Crysta looks overwhelmed," Mako commented.

 

Dha nodded. "Understandable; she's never been out of the country, and this is literally a city-world."

 

"So, where do we start looking for Hylo?"

 

"Cantinas," Dha said. "There were no signs of her on Makeb, so I basically wasted my time with that isotope-5 thing, but hey, it paid. Maybe she'll be here. Nar Shaddaa's the best smuggler hangout in the galaxy, after–"

 

Suddenly, a speeder roared by, followed by another, and two bikes, all three of which were firing blaster bolts at the first.

 

"That was Theron in the first car!" Dha said.

 

"Who–?"

 

"Wait here!"

 

Dha activated his jetpack and roared off in pursuit. He caught up quickly, firing his grapnel and yanking the driver of one speeder bike off. He released the cord, letting the driver fall into oblivion. Then the second bike whirled and came at Dha. Deftly, he deactivated his jetpack and landed firmly on the bike. He punched the rider, sending him, too, flailing to his death. He pulled around, quickly catching up with the speeder car and its final pursuer.

 

Theron Shan seemed to have realized what was going on, and had pulled around, now heading on a head-on collision course with the other vehicle. As he did he pulled out his pistol and fired through the front window of his speeder. The driver, a Rodian, was killed in the spray. In the back seat, a Trandoshan and a Weequay stood up and opened fire.

 

Dha leapt off the bike, grabbed the Weequay by the throat, and rammed his gauntlet blade into the alien's kidney. Then, he turned and shot the Trandoshan cleanly in the face.

 

"Wasn't expecting you!" Theron called.

 

"Always repay my debts!" Dha replied.

 

Not long ago, Dha had been ambushed by Regulators here on Nar Shaddaa. He would've been killed if not for Theron, who'd killed one of the Regulators pinning Dha down.

 

"Debt fulfilled," Theron agreed.

 

"Then fight well," Dha said. "Farewell."

 

"Farewell," Theron replied. "Ret'urcye mhi."

 

Dha blinked in surprise at the Mandalorian farewell. "Ret'urcye mhi," he said.

 

Theron pulled away, and Dha remounted the hovering bike and returned to his wife and child.

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Chapter 1

 

Jasin knelt before the Forge, using the Force to assemble his new lightsaber. He'd lost weapons before–his first blade had been destroyed in his fight with Kira while she'd been possessed by the Emperor, shortly after the death of Darth Angral. His second weapon, with a green blade, had been taken from him when he'd been turned into a Sith by Emperor Vitiate, and been replaced with a red-bladed Sith weapon. After he'd been freed of the Emperor's power by Orgus Din, he'd modified the Sith weapon, and it had shone a blue-cyan color.

 

Those blades, at least, had been taken from him by Sith.

 

His last weapon, the same blue-cyan blade, had not been destroyed fighting Tol Braga, or the Emperor himself, nor even Darth Serevin or Darth Malgus. No, his weapon had been destroyed by a kriffing Regulator droid.

 

With an amused sigh, he turned his attention back to the weapon. With one quick motion, he snapped the ends of the hilt together. Standing, he took the weapon in his hand and ignited it. A small smile crossed his face as the silver-blue blade extended, lighting the gray stones around him.

 

"Your weapon is complete," Scourge said. "May we go now?"

 

"I would've thought you'd understand the necessity of a weapon," Jasin said, miffed. "After all, you Sith take more interest in violence than we do."

 

Scourge chuckled. "Yes, but we do not feel the need to assemble our own weapons. We are given them by our Masters when taken as apprentices, or our final trial is to find one hidden in an ancient tomb, guarded by dangerous animals or other guardians."

 

"Other guardians?"

 

Scourge nodded. "Spirits of ancient Sith, trapped in statues, brought to life by a Sith's presence, or an ancient warrior trapped in stasis; even a terentatek."

 

"Spirits of ancient Sith?"

 

Scourge nodded. "Your brother took that test, I believe."

 

Jasin quirked an eyebrow. "How do you know about my brother's training?"

 

"I am–was–the Emperor's Wrath. There was little that happened on Korriban that I did not know about. And your brother showed more promise than most."

 

Jasin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he'd love that compliment."

 

"He should. He took my place, after all, and to be complimented by a predecessor in the Sith is a rare occasion indeed."

 

"That's because you kill your predecessors to take their place!"

 

"Still."

 

Jasin sighed in defeat, then gave Scourge a sneaky look. "Care to test your skills?"

 

Scourge ignited his red-bladed saber. "Gladly."

 

* * *

 

Methic stood, arms crossed, in the Dark Council chamber.

 

"Well done on Makeb, Emperor's Wrath," said Darth Acina, new head of the Sphere of Technology.

 

"The isotope-5 will greatly aid our troopers," agreed Darth Marr. "It is a pity the Wrath cannot also be on the Council, for you would fit perfectly as a replacement for Darth Arho."

 

"You are too kind, my lord," Methic lied.

 

"I, too, retrieved the isotope-5," snarled Darth Nox. "Methic cannot be singled out."

 

"No one is leaving you out, Nox," said Darth Vowrawn with a laugh. "Are you jealous?"

 

Darth Nox: now there was a rival that needed to be eliminated. Nox was one of the very few beings in the Empire that knew Methic had a connection to the Jedi via his brother Jasin and cousin Gareb, and Nox was also the most likely to use it to his advantage. Methic could've easily killed the Twi'lek, if not for the need for discretion. He could have come up with some trumped-up charges that "the Emperor" had against Nox, but the Servants wouldn't approve. The disgusting Purebloods seemed to have a certain liking for Nox, and angering the Servants was, indirectly, angering the Emperor.

 

"Not jealous," Nox hissed. "Just disgusted that you all lick this man's boots because he represents a dead man."

 

To keep up pretenses, Methic ignited his red-bladed lightsaber and took a step forward, glaring at Nox through his mask.

 

"To question the Emperor's survival is to forfeit your own," he said.

 

Nox snorted, but relented. "Forgive me, Methic."

 

Methic, personally, didn't care if the Emperor was still alive or not. If so, then he could deal with the problem if and when it presented itself. If not, then good; it would be one less issue for him to get rid of when he began his plan to change the Empire for the better and extinguish the Sith.

 

"I must take my leave for now," Methic said. "Business calls elsewhere. But remember, I am always watching."

 

"Of course," Marr replied coldly.

 

Methic turned and walked out of the room. No sooner had he passed through the doors than Jaesa and Quinn looked up and followed at his heels.

 

"How did it go, my lord?" Quinn asked.

 

"Could've been better," Methic muttered. "Nox is presenting himself a nuisance."

 

"He will not prevail," Jaesa said firmly. "We have the light on our side."

 

Quinn smiled. "Dear Jaesa, would that we all had your confidence. Personally, I agree that we can deal with Nox easily enough, but his power base is in a good position to damage us, and badly."

 

"We'll deal with it when the time comes," Methic interrupted. "You two, go start up the ship and prepare for departure. When we get to Eriadu, you may take the day off and enjoy yourselves; Pierce and I can handle the issue there."

 

"Thank you, my lord," Quinn said, wrapping his arm around Jaesa's shoulder.

 

Methic nodded. "If only Vette and I got as much time together as you two did."

 

"Actually, Master," Jaesa said under a cough, "I was wondering if in a few days, Quinn and I might visit our parents."

 

Quinn coughed a little, too, and Methic fought the urge to laugh. The last time Quinn and Jaesa had gone to her parents' place on Alderaan, before they'd been a couple, it had been supremely awkward, with her mother insinuating their dating. They had not realized then that they actually would end up together. As Methic recalled, Quinn said Jaesa had related him to a refresher station.

 

"Of course," Methic said. "Take five days, even. Broonmark, Pierce, Vette, and I can get by, and if I need you I can go to Alderaan and pick you up."

 

"Thank you, Master." Jaesa smiled. "It'll also give us time alone. I know this lovely spot in the mountains, where there's a hot spring. No one ever goes there. We could enjoy ourselves, take our robes and uniform off and swim a little..."

 

"Sounds lovely," Quinn replied, his voice squeaking a little.

 

"Then go," Methic said with a laugh. "I wish Vette and I could join you, but duty calls. Have fun."

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Chapter 2

 

They were just getting some chow when it happened.

 

Prudii ducked as the bomb exploded in the mess, sending corpses of Republic soldiers, people he knew, flying everywhere. He pulled his sidearm and wished profusely for a helmet. Scowling, he leapt behind the cover of an upturned table as a spread of blasterfire peppered the room.

 

Prudii glanced across the room. Vik and Yuun had kicked over a bench and were crouched down, blasters drawn and ready. Elara was dragging an injured soldier back into the kitchen. Jorgan...

 

Jorgan was on the ground.

 

Prudii spat in Mando'a, then raised his head above the table to find targets. There were ten of them, all clad in black and gold armor, and with more pouring in by the minute. Standing, he opened fire. One target, a human, fell instantly, as did a Rodian and a Duros behind him. The other black-armored soldiers saw him and opened fire; Prudii ducked down just in time to avoid having his head blown off.

 

"Yuun, Vik!" he said. "Flank 'em!"

 

Yuun holstered his blaster and drew his electrostaff, then began moving through the mess from cover to cover. Vik moved to a better firing position and raised his blaster. Prudii held up his fingers. Three, two...

 

One.

 

He stood and fired, killing a Weequay. Vik's shot took out a Gamorrean. The other soldiers were about to turn in their direction when Yuun leapt out and began weaving his way through them, cutting them down quickly. Several other Republic soldiers managed to get to their feet and fire.

 

And another bomb went off.

 

The table Prudii was behind went flying, and Prudii felt himself being carried along with it. He tucked his knees up to his chest and slammed back first into the wall. He hit the ground just as the table would have flattened him. It crashed into the wall, splintered, and fell. Prudii rolled aside.

 

He stood and took a shot, killing another enemy soldier.

 

Who are they? he wondered. Imperial? Dread Forces? Regulators? No time to think–fight!

 

He fired at another soldier; a clean headshot. Yuun and Vik had regained their feet and were fighting–Vik now with his vibrosword. Prudii wished for his rifle, but he had to make do. He fired again, killing another black-clad opponent.

 

The third bomb went off.

 

Prudii ducked down as shrapnel flew overhead. Another bomb, and another, and another, went off in the room, not giving him a chance to stand. Finally, it was over, and he vaulted over the counter to resume the fight...and they were gone.

 

"Blast," he muttered. He spoke into his wrist comlink. "Havoc Squad, report in."

 

"This is Elara. I have a handful of wounded here, can't treat them all. Call for medical assistance immediately."

 

"Vik here. I'm outside–they're all gone, no sign of 'em."

 

"Yuun reports no sign as well. Yuun apologizes."

 

"Nothing to apologize for," Prudii replied. "Dorne? How's Jorgan?"

 

"Jorgan?" Dorne asked. "Sir...I don't have him here."

 

Prudii's heart sunk. He looked around the room desperately, fearing that he would see his friend's broken corpse. He did not.

 

"They took him," Prudii said grimly. "They got Jorgan."

 

* * *

 

"Who were they?" General Garza asked.

 

Prudii felt weary, more weary than he'd ever felt before. Havoc had been on the planet Bilbringi, fighting against anti-Republic separatists, much like Prudii's first assignment on Ord Mantell. It should have been easy; reports indicated the Bilbringi Liberation Force had been meagerly supplied; indeed, many of them wore armor that suggested they'd been purchased off the black market or been given as a show of faith by the Empire.

 

Prudii knew what the BLF's gear looked like. The black-armored forces that had attacked them had been nowhere close to the BLF. They'd been more efficient, better trained, better geared–everything.

 

"No idea," Prudii replied. "They fought like a crack special forces team, but they weren't geared like Imperials or Regulators, or even the Dread Forces."

 

"They could have been Imperials," Garza said, "wearing false uniforms to throw us off. Why else would they kidnap a member of Havoc Squad?"

 

"There's a reason, I'm sure. But I don't think they were Imps–too many aliens."

 

"Imperial-hired mercenaries, then."

 

"No, even they tend to be more human or near-human."

 

Garza considered. "We're at a dead end, then."

 

Prudii nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

 

"And with no clue where Captain Jorgan may be," Yuun agreed grimly.

 

All in all, it couldn't have gotten much worse.

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Chapter 3

 

Gareb stood on the precipice–literally. Below him, a thousand-foot drop presented itself with deadly indifference. He let out a breath to calm himself, to keep himself balanced. One misstep and he'd fall...and fall, and fall. He sucked in another breath, let it out again.

 

"There is no emotion..." he said quietly.

 

He nodded to himself. Yes, this was exactly what he needed. Time alone, to calm himself, to keep his passions at bay. He was generally serene–never once had he stricken a foe in anger or malice, only with dispassion and justice. He had rarely lost his temper. But Methic drew out all his negative feelings. How could his cousin be one of the Sith? Methic himself had admitted to knowing the Sith were wrong, and he wished to change the Empire, yet he remained with them.

 

Why?

 

The same reason you remain with the Jedi, he told himself. They took you in when you had nothing.

 

Specifically, after the Empire had invaded Gareb's homeworld Phaeda, he and Jasin had retreated to Coruscant and been taken in by the Jedi. Methic had been captured by the Sith, but a sympathetic Sith Lord, one of high standing, had adopted Methic as his own son. That was why Methic stayed a Sith–they were there for him when no one else was.

 

But the man who had adopted Methic had defected to the Jedi shortly after the Second Great Galactic War broke out. Methic had not found out until months later, after Darth Baras had been killed. Though Methic had always been disgusted with the Sith's corruption, his father's defection had cemented his choice to follow the light side.

 

He finished, "...there is peace."

 

Gareb looked down. The drop was still the same distance, but it no longer seemed so daunting. In relief, he stepped back onto the grass behind him.

 

"Back to the Temple," he muttered quietly.

 

* * *

 

Dankin crossed his arms and grinned as the spaceport authorities approached. Normally he would've had to do some fast talking to circumvent their attentions, maybe even included a bribe. Not today. Bowdaar and Corso had done exceptional work hiding the cargo. No one would suspect it.

 

"Name," the captain said.

 

"Captain Dankin," he replied. "Captain of this fine ship, the Goodvalor."

 

He used a different alias for his ship in every spaceport, but he'd always had trouble deciding on an actual name for it. Just a few months ago he'd decided on Emerald Talon.

 

"Goodvalor?" asked the captain. "As in, the Republic hero Benegryph Goodvalor?"

 

Dankin resisted the urge to laugh. "Benegryph Goodvalor" was no hero. Centuries ago, during the Mandalorian Wars, a conman named Marn Heirogryph had inadvertently saved an entire platoon–or more–of Republic troops when the Mandalorians had attempted to bomb them. His Trandoshan friend, Slyssk, had panicked, picked up Gryph bodily, and boarded a Republic ship and flown it away. Many of the crewmen had been asleep–Gryph and Slyssk had been accidental heroes. However, because of his wanted status, he'd come up with the alias Benegryph Goodvalor. He'd ended up as a war hero, with his own line of restaurants, holovids–even toys. Even today he was considered a hero by and large.

 

"Yep," Dankin replied.

 

The captain nodded. "I'm a fan myself. Owned a vintage 'Benegryph In Mandalorian Armor' action figure when I was a kid. Cost my dad a fortune to get, but it was worth it. I still have the think in a blasterproof glass case in my office."

 

"That's...great." Dankin tried really hard not to laugh. "I've seen all his holovids."

 

One of the troopers kicked the captain gently in the shin. "Sir."

 

"Oh, uh, right...cargo?"

 

"Dantooinian spherefruit," Dankin replied. "Straight to the public markets."

 

The captain nodded. "Mind if we inspect it?"

 

"Sure, have at it."

 

He led them into his ship and to the cargo hold. Corso glanced up and nodded. The ten crates around the room did, in fact, hold spherefruits. The other goods were elsewhere.

 

"Mind if I taste one?" asked the captain. "Just to be sure."

 

Dankin pulled out a fruit and tossed it to him. "No charge."

 

The captain bit into it. When nothing exploded, he nodded. "All right, good. Deliver your goods. You have two days to get offworld or you'll be charged extra."

 

Dankin nodded. "Got it, no worries. We're not staying long."

 

As soon as the captain left, Dankin popped open the floor panels and grinned.

 

"All right," he said. "One hundred rifles to the anti-Imperial insurgents. Unload those spherefruits and get the rifles back in the crates."

 

"That guy seemed pretty pro-Republic," Corso noted.

 

Dankin chuckled. "Maybe he's a member of the resistance. Not my business. In any case, let's get this stuff to them and get out of here."

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Chapter 4

 

Jasin stood in the sand-blasted canyon on Geonosis and tried not to fall over. He'd removed all the plates of armor he usually wore to keep him cooler, dressing instead in the traditional browns-and-tans of the Jedi Order. The loose-fitting tunics were ideal for desert work.

 

Pulling out his GSI macrobinoculars, he zoomed in on the face of the cliff above him. He winced and took a step back as a hot wind nearly knocked him over. He pulled the binocs away from his face, wiped sand away with the back of his glove, and pulled his hood up.

 

"This is a waste of time," Scourge grumbled. "We should be done here and get back to the fight."

 

"You really want to fight your Empire?" Jasin asked.

 

He grunted as the wind smacked him again. Finally he reached into his belt, pulled out a strip of fabric, and wrapped it around his nose and mouth. A sandstorm was coming, and he didn't want to choke to death.

 

"I want to fight the Emperor," Scourge replied harshly.

 

"He's dead," Jasin said flatly.

 

"You don't know that any more than I do," Scourge hissed. "He could still be out there somewhere...I believe he is."

 

"Sounds to me like you're just getting used to the Republic," Jasin mocked.

 

"Never." Scourge sneered. "Let's finish here quickly."

 

Jasin sighed and pulled the binoculars back in front of his eyes. If reports were correct, the ship should have come down somewhere around...

 

"There!" he said, pointing.

 

"I see it," Scourge said.

 

"Kira!" Jasin said into his comlink. "We found it. Have Doc fly the Defender over here. We'll need him to lift us out."

 

"Roger that, Master," she replied.

 

Jasin stuffed the comlink in his belt and glanced back at Scourge.

 

"Ready?" he asked.

 

"Always."

 

Scourge leapt and grabbed an outcropping on the canyon wall. Jasin gave a grunt of protest and followed. Scourge climbed swiftly up to the crashed ship and clambered inside. Jasin panted as he reached the top a moment later.

 

"Scourge?" he called. No answer. "Scourge?"

 

There was the sound of an igniting lightsaber. Alarmed, Jasin drew his own blade and charged into the ship–which, he realized, was not a small freighter as it had appeared on the outside, but was at least the size of a frigate; the rest of it was just buried inside the mountain. Rounding a corner, he found Scourge face to face with a local masiff beast. The animal growled and leapt at Scourge. Jasin hurled his lightsaber; the blade caught the masiff in the belly and cut it cleanly in half.

 

"I had it settled," Scourge grumbled.

 

"I'm sure you did."

 

Jasin stepped farther into the corridor and glanced around. The furnishings were odd–not Imperial, and certainly not Republic. There were black symbols on each door, in the shape of a stylized star. Jasin entered the first room...

 

And found corpses.

 

"The masiffs were here," he observed.

 

"Indeed."

 

Jasin knelt by one corpse. It had black armor with the same star design, this time in gold, emblazoned on the chest and shoulders. He frowned. He'd seen this symbol before; he knew he had.

 

"This is enough," he said. "Let's get back to the Defender."

 

"And to the war?"

 

Jasin nodded wearily. "Yes, Scourge. And to the war."

 

* * *

 

Darth Nox nodded grimly to himself and pulled out another Dread Seed. He'd recovered the things recently from the clutches of the Dread Masters, and was now using them to great effect. He stepped toward the acolyte chained to the wall.

 

"No!" the acolyte screamed. "Please, my lord. No, no–no!"

 

As the seed grew into his neck, Nox stood back and admired his work. The apprentice flailed in agony, tearing the restraints. As he leapt for Nox, Nox blasted him with Force lightning. The seeded acolyte shrieked and fell, dead.

 

"Well," Nox muttered, "looks like I'll need another test subject."

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Chapter 5

 

Merok pressed his hands together at the small of his back, looking at the holo-image of the SIS Director, Marcus Trant. The man ran a hand through his unruly white hair and sighed.

 

"I wish you'd brought me this information a few hours ago," Trant said.

 

"What's wrong, Director?" Merok asked.

 

"The Republic base on Corellia was attacked by black-armored soldiers, and one of Havoc Squad's members was captured. Supreme Commander Malcom is biting my head off trying to find out who they are."

 

"You suspect Black Sun?"

 

Trant nodded. "If this information is accurate, and being from Agent Shan I have no reason to doubt it is, then it is very likely."

 

"Would you like me to track them down?"

 

"No," Trant replied with a laugh. "That would take away the pleasure from Havoc Squad."

 

Merok smiled. "And we wouldn't want to do that."

 

"No, we wouldn't."

 

* * *

 

Jaesa, back turned to Quinn, removed her robe, sliding it down her back to reveal smooth skin barely covered by a two-piece bathing suit. Malavai shuddered imperceptibly and stayed where he was. Jaesa turned and looked back at him.

 

"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"

 

Quinn squeaked. "Ah, lovely."

 

"Oh, come on," she said. "Take off your uniform! Let's swim!"

 

He adjusted his collar. "I, uh..."

 

Jaesa stepped onto him, pressing her chest against his. He blushed. She reached up and unbuckled his collar.

 

"Come on," she whispered seductively. "Just let your hair down, so to speak."

 

Suddenly, she shrieked in pain and fell to the ground, clutching her head. Quinn frowned–and, suddenly, found himself screaming, as well. A sonic emitter must've been activated nearby; his brain was about to explode. He reached for his blaster, felt blood pouring from his nose, and feebly got to his knees.

 

A squad of black-armored troopers came out of the trees. Jaesa reached for her waist, realized she'd removed her lightsaber along with most of her clothes, and gasped when a stun bolt knocked her into the water.

 

"Jaesa..." groaned Quinn.

 

He fired in the general direction of his opponents, but he was shaking too much to hit anything other than the ground. He felt a stun bolt hit him, too, and as he went down he felt hands grab his biceps and start dragging him away...

 

* * *

 

Jaesa fought the pain and wiped it away with the calming flow of the Force. She swam to the surface of the hot pool and crawled onto the land. They were gone. The black-clad soldiers, Quinn...all of them. She picked up her robe and wrapped it around her suddenly shivering body.

 

"I'll find you, Quinn," she promised. "But first I've got to get back to Methic."

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Chapter 6

 

Dha slammed his drink down on the table and leaned back in his chair. The smuggler across from him raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

 

"So," Dha said, "Hylo Visz?"

 

Gault and Visz had been partners for a long time before Visz had been gone into a stasis chamber on Belsavis. Gault had eventually found and freed her–she, unfortunately, had been angry to see him and nearly killed him. They had separated on bad terms. However, she finally contacted him and said she'd be willing to pair up with him if he proved he cared more about her than he did himself. Gault had thrown himself into selflessness; he'd even saved the pregnant Mako's life by sacrificing his own–only he hadn't died. He was still in a coma, and his last request was that Dha find Visz and tell her what had happened.

 

"Don't know," the smuggler, a dark-skinned man, replied. "Rumors float around, you know, but it's not so easy to track down someone of her reputation. Why...you want to take a bounty on her?"

 

Dha shook his head. "No."

 

"Good."

 

Dha glanced down and realized the smuggler had drawn his blaster and had balanced it on his lap, the barrel pointed at Dha's gut. Dha glared frostily at the smuggler and leaned back, balancing his arm on the back of his chair, with the flamethrower pointed at the man's face.

 

"Talk," Dha said.

 

"Hylo's in hiding," the man said reluctantly. "It's Black Sun. They've got a score to settle with her."

 

"Where?" Dha asked.

 

"Don't know," the man replied with a shrug. "However, I can tell you this: she has hired a couple mercenary bodyguards. Track them down–it'll be easier–and you'll find her."

 

Dha nodded. "Got it. Know anything about the mercs?"

 

"Last time I saw 'em, one guy wore this white and blue mishmash armor and a kind of turban. The other guy was a Mandalorian named Jogo."

 

Dha winced. "I heard of him. Hah! Actually, I've more than heard of him, I've had the displeasure of meeting him." He threw the smuggler a high-denomination credit. "Thanks for the info," he said.

 

The dark-skinned man turned on the denomination display and his eyes widened.

 

"Thanks again," Dha said. He pulled out his comlink. "Torian, put out a call to Jogo. Tell him I want a partnership with him."

 

"Jogo?" Torian asked disdainfully. "Why would you want to partner with him?"

 

"I don't. But we need to find out where he is."

 

"All right. I'm on it."

 

"Thanks. Out."

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Chapter 7

 

"Attention, Defender corvette, you are trespassing on our territory!"

 

Jasin stormed into the cockpit. Doc was in the pilot's seat, Kira in the copilot's seat, Rusk at the gunnery station, and T7 was amplifying the shields. Scourge entered behind Jasin and leaned in behind Doc to look out the viewport. Jasin took the captain's seat and activated the comm.

 

"Unidentified ship, this is Jedi Defender corvette," he said. "How can you claim this as your territory?"

 

"You were seen inside one of our crashed ships. You have trespassed and you will leave immediately!"

 

"Or?"

 

"Or we'll blow you out of space."

 

"You still haven't identified yourself," Jasin said, his voice dangerously soft. "I don't recognize your authority."

 

"We are Black Sun," the other voice said.

 

Jasin remembered. Back when he'd first been a Knight, back on Coruscant, "Doctor" Tarnis had been kidnapped by Black Sun. An officer in the syndicate, a man named Zeer, had been waiting at Coruscant spaceport. Jasin had defeated and captured him–and then gone on to find "Doctor" Tarnis in Black Sun's territory on Coruscant, and found out he was a Sith. There Jasin had been forced to kill the leader of Black Sun himself, Overlord Salarr. The syndicate had been floundering since then; or so it had seemed.

 

"You are criminals," he said. "You have no jurisdiction."

 

"Master," Kira said softly. "They're launching starfighters."

 

"T7, shields up?" he asked.

 

The droid tootled excitedly, confirming.

 

"Scourge, you find a seat," Jasin said. "You're no good to me dead. Doc, transfer controls to my station."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Rusk?"

 

"Sir?"

 

"Shoot to kill."

 

The starfighters shot through the sky, lasers flying. Rusk stuttered the turbolasers, spinning them as he fired, and two starfighters went down. The frigate blocking their passage opened fire. The shields rocked, and Jasin winced.

 

"T7!" he shouted. "Amplify the forward shields, we're plowing through!"

 

The droid squealed in horror, but complied. A starfighter headed straight for them on a collision course–and suddenly exploded for no reason. Rusk's shots had been going the other way.

 

"What...?" Jasin asked.

 

Scourge's eyes were half-closed, and he was shuddering in effort. Jasin realized he had used the Force to squeeze the fuel lines until they exploded. Jasin narrowed his eyes.

 

"Would you rather have died," Scourge interrupted before Jasin could say anything, "because if so, I can stop helping right now and head for the escape pod. Surely I can find others to ensure the Emperor doesn't return."

 

Jasin's blood ran cold. It was a side of Scourge he'd never seen before. He nodded.

 

"All right," he said.

 

They shot over the frigate, and Jasin unleashed torpedoes as they did. Then he immediately pulled the hyperspace lever. They shot into the swirling blue void as the frigate exploded.

 

"I think," Jasin observed, "we have a problem."

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Chapter 8

 

Dankin winced as he crawled over the sharp rock. It jabbed into his side, and he rolled over onto his back and rubbed his belly.

 

"That hurt," he muttered.

 

"Stop complaining," replied his brother, Backblast.

 

"Hey, I'm doing this for you," Dankin said. "I'm a smuggler, not a spy!"

 

"But you are an official privateer in the employ of the Republic," Backblast reminded him. "You have to fulfill the responsibilities that entails."

 

"Fine, fine," Dankin growled. "Just stop talkin' to me or they'll hear me!"

 

The Fondor rebels were moving a convoy from one base to another, and Backblast saw it as a chance to find another of the rebels' hidey-holes. Dankin pulled his macrobinoculars up to his face and zoomed in on the convoy. There were guards on all sides, front and back, armed with assault cannons and rocket launchers.

 

"They see me," Dankin muttered, "and this mesa gets blown away."

 

"Hey," observed Risha, "look. That symbol looks familiar, doesn't it?"

 

Dankin zoomed in on the vehicle she pointed out. He frowned. There was a black stylized star stamped on the side of the transport vehicle. He frowned, thinking for a moment–and gasped.

 

"Black Sun," he said.

 

She nodded. "Ye–"

 

Suddenly, Dankin felt a hand grab the back of his collar. He grunted in surprise and whipped out his blaster. But he dropped it when a fist landed in his gut. He wheezed and swung a fist blindly, and then brought his knee straight up between the attacker's legs. There was a grunt of surprise, and Dankin pulled out his offhand blaster. He shot the guy clean in the face.

 

Risha screeched and fired her rifle-point blank, killing another attacker. Dankin reached down, picked up his other blaster, and threw down an energy shield. He ducked behind it just before a rain of blaster bolts shot overhead. Risha rolled behind a rock next to Dankin and opened fire.

 

"Backblast!" Dankin snapped. "Hey, you there? I just got attacked by–"

 

He broke off and shot another attacker in the chest with three bolts. The black-armored opponent dropped. Risha shot two more clean in the head with her rifle.

 

"Dankin, you okay?" asked Backblast.

 

"Yeah, fine," Dankin replied. "I think–" he shot one more target, "–that's the last of them."

 

"Good," Backblast said. "They attacked us here, too, but I don't think they expected to find me. They tried to grab Akaavi and Guss, but we killed them all."

 

"Why grab anyone?" he asked. "Why not just kill 'em?"

 

"No clue," Backblast muttered.

 

"All right, I'm coming back," Dankin said. "Tell Corso to fire up the engines. You might want to get back to your base–we're pulling out."

 

Backblast sighed in defeat. "All right. We'll find the rebels some other way. Out."

 

"Out."

 

* * *

 

Gareb ignited his lightsaber, turned, and rammed his lightsaber through his enemy's guts. Another enemy swung a vibrosword at the back of Gareb's head. Gareb reached out with the Force and hurled his opponent away. Qyzen slashed another opponent with his techblade and stabbed another.

 

"Who are they?" Zenith asked.

 

He blasted one of the black-armored attackers and then pulled out a vibroshiv and slashed another in the throat. Tharan and Iresso were busy evacuating non-combatants from Tython's orbital station while Nadia rallied the Jedi and troopers aboard the station for a counterattack.

 

"No idea," Gareb muttered.

 

Nadia brought the forces in at that moment. Within minutes, the black-armored enemies had been cut down. Gareb sighed in relief and sheathed his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt.

 

"I don't know how I know this," Gareb whispered, "but they were after one of us."

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Chapter 9

 

Methic spun his lightsaber and its blue blade cut through the throat of the assassin. Then he turned and rammed his red-bladed saber into the chest of a second black-clad opponent. Each of them dropped their lightsaber. Methic scowled down at the bodies, squeezing the hilts of his saber.

 

"Are they the same ones?" he asked.

 

"No," Jaesa replied. "The ones who got Quinn were in blast armor, and they used rifles, not lightsabers."

 

"Then who are these beings?" he wondered aloud.

 

[blorrp,] suggested Broonmark.

 

Methic shook his head. "No, the Dread Masters are still reeling at the death of Styrak. They're busy licking their wounds."

 

"Wish Quinn were here," whispered Jaesa. "He'd have an idea."

 

Vette frowned. "Whoever these assassins were, they were after Methic, not one of us."

 

Jaesa nodded. "You're right. Those other attackers would not have hit Quinn and myself if they were after Methic."

 

"One man I know wants me dead this badly," Methic hissed.

 

"Who?"

 

"Darth Nox."

 

* * *

 

Nox whirled as Methic entered and reached for his lightsaber. Before he could even draw it off his belt, Methic snapped it in half and threw the remnants across the room. Nox hissed and blasted at him with Force lightning. Methic drew one of his lightsabers, the red one, and blocked the energy into the floor. Nox hissed and threw a cabinet at the Wrath's head.

 

Methic grunted as the cabinet slammed into him. Nox lifted the cabinet off his rival's body and threw it aside, and then grabbed Methic with the Force and lifted him into the air. Methic tried to break the grip, but Nox threw him against the wall and then dangled him in the air again.

 

"You're...making a...mistake," Methic growled.

 

"Am I?" Nox hissed. "No, you're too big a threat to leave alive."

 

"You...already sent...assassins."

 

"Did I?" Nox sneered. "No, I would have sent Xalek or Khem, and you'd be dead now."

 

"Then...who?"

 

Nox sensed Methic's intent–too late. Methic had been faking the whole time. With a powerful blast of Force energy he broke Nox's hold. He leapt forward, lightsabers ignited, and crossed them over Nox's throat. Nox managed to blast him back a few feet and roll aside just as Methic hurled his blue blade into the ground where Nox had been.

 

"You'll regret attacking me here," Nox snarled.

 

Methic sneered and charged at Nox. Nox put up a Force shield just in time, and the lightsaber bounced away from it. Methic grabbed Nox in a Force choke. While Nox was still countering that, Methic blasted him against the wall. Nox grunted and sent wave after wave of Force lightning at Methic. The warrior fell back under the assault, picked up a table with the Force, and threw it at Nox.

 

Nox stopped it a centimeter from his face and threw it aside, but Methic was on him. Nox pulled a training lightsaber from a rack on the wall and barely blocked Methic's blow, but the warrior's powerful strike knocked the feeble weapon away. The next few moments were very confused, but they ended with a lightsaber centimeters from Nox's throat, and Nox's hand, encased in Force lightning, hovering just over Methic's ear.

 

"This fight could go on for hours," Methic said, "with neither of us gaining the upper hand. Let me leave, and I won't return."

 

Nox hissed. "Why should I believe you, Wrath? If you ever find me at a disadvantage you can merely skewer me on your lightsabers. I have no martial skill; my advantage is in the Force."

 

"You are correct," Methic said. "If it comes down to it, I am confident I can defeat you, but...not in this space. Not in your little laboratory. And neither can you defeat me here."

 

"Fine," Nox replied with a laugh. "Who am I to kill the Emperor's Wrath, anyway? Go."

 

Methic did. Nox turned away, back to the experiment table he'd been at before Methic had entered. He waved the holocron before him alive, and the gatekeeper, an image of an ancient Sith, reappeared. Nox returned to his experiments, more determined than before.

 

Suddenly, Khem and Ashara stormed into the room. Nox turned to look at them.

 

"Better late than never," he muttered.

 

"My lord," Ashara said. "They took him. They took Andronikos."

 

"What? Who did?"

 

"Men in black, Nox," Khem hissed. "Men in black."

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Chapter 10

 

Clad in a nondescript black and brown tunic, Jasin leaned against the bar and glanced around the room. He let out a small breath of air through his nose, wishing he were better at being "nondescript." But he wasn't–born to nobility, he had a bad habit of keeping his head held high and his back erect, and his Jedi training kept him glancing around the room, looking for trouble.

 

"Relax," Doc said through his ear comlink. "You look like you're expecting trouble."

 

"I am," Jasin hissed. "We both know something's going to happen here."

 

"Of course," Doc muttered. "This is Tatooine. Ever since you messed up Czerka and the Exchange, Black Sun has moved in with flying colors."

 

"Oh, so this is my fault?"

 

"Would you two stop?" Kira said. "Jasin, on your six."

 

Jasin reached out with the Force, touching the presence behind him. It was slimy, hateful...Black Sun. Jasin resisted the urge to reach under his tunic and pull out his lightsaber. The man walked up and stood behind Jasin. His face was scarred, his hair cropped short and bleached white. His eyes were light brown, but they smoldered with a hateful fire.

 

"I recognize you," he said.

 

"You do?"

 

He nodded. "Yeah. I was here when you came here over two years ago."

 

Uh-oh.

 

"So, Jedi, how about we take this outside, before my men fry your droid's circuits?"

 

Jasin's eyes widened as he understood the threat. They have Tee-seven. He reached into his tunic and whipped out his lightsaber. Its cold, silver-blue blade terminating centimeters from the man's throat. The man hissed.

 

"I wouldn't," he said spitefully. "If you do, my men get a signal that says I'm dead, and they blow up your droid."

 

Jasin glared at him. "Outside," he said. "Now."

 

The man nodded, and together they walked out. Jasin glanced up at the sky as he walked out. Across the street and on top of a roof, Rusk had his weapon trained on the Black Sun man's head. Kira and Doc were hidden in an alley nearby, and Scourge was waiting around the other side of the cantina.

 

"Where's my droid?" Jasin said furiously.

 

"He's safe. For now."

 

"What do you want?"

 

"A payoff," the man said. "One hundred thousand credits, paid to my account effective immediately. Or else my men dismantle your droid."

 

"I have a bead," Rusk said. "Give me a signal."

 

Jasin shook his head in negatively. "Bring the droid here, and then I'll pay."

 

"Ha! Do I look stupid, Jedi?"

 

"Do I? I'm not paying you until I know my droid's all right."

 

The Black Sun thug nodded. "All right, I'll take you there. Come on."

 

Jasin twitched his fingers in a signal, and Rusk backed off. Jasin's four allies began following covertly. The thug took Jasin to a house about a kilometer from the cantina. They went through the house into a back garage. T7 was sitting on the floor, a restraining bolt on his chassis. A pair of Black Sun mercenaries, a Rodian and a Trandoshan, stood over him.

 

Dwoo, T7 said mournfully.

 

"Payment," the thug said. "Now."

 

Jasin reached for his datapad...and the garage's windows and doors exploded in. A series of blaster bolts caught the Trandoshan in the chest, and another bolt sheared through the Rodian's head. Jasin ducked–and Scourge's lightsaber descended, cutting the human thug's arm off at the shoulder.

 

"Doc, get Tee-seven," Jasin said. He grabbed the thug by the collar. "You're under arrest in the name of the Republic and the Jedi Order." He shoved the man to Rusk. "Take him to the ship. We're going to Coruscant."

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Thanks! My usual process is: think of a prologue. Think of a general ending. Start writing. Make up as the middle as I go. Yet it usually turns out all right. :p

 

Chapter 11

 

Prudii readied his rifle as the BT-7 docked with the Bilbringi Depot. Behind him, Elara and the others prepared their own weapons, checking their ammo and power cells. Prudii's gaze hardened as he glared at the wall. His hopes were high that Jorgan was here, but a little part of him knew he wasn't.

 

Bilbringi Depot was the heart of the Bilbringi Shipyards, the long series of space stations that created some of the biggest fleets in the galaxy. Unlike Kuat Drive Yards, which stayed patently neutral, Bilbringi was a Republic-aligned shipyard, and the Empire had been on the edge for years waiting to capture them. With the uprising of the many workers and overseers, it was possible that the Empire would take the chance to come in and take over.

 

Garza had ordered Prudii to focus on blowing away the rebels so the Republic could solidify its hold on Bilbringi before the Empire could attack. Prudii had decided to mix two objectives–finding and saving Jorgan, and getting rid of the separatists.

 

"Coming in for a landing," Yuun said.

 

The separatists had, two hours ago, captured the Depot and sent a message to those Bilbringi officials still loyal to the Republic. They'd said they'd release the mag-clamps on all the stations unless the officials turned over the hyperlane coordinates to the rebels. No doubt they intended to give those same codes to the Empire. So, Prudii and Havoc Squad were to recapture the Depot.

 

Alone.

 

"All right, men," Prudii said. "And Elara. Let's move."

 

The hatch opened–and blaster bolts instantly flashed up the landing ramp, slamming into the ceiling of the ship as Prudii and Vik just barely jumped aside to avoid them. Vik pulled out his vibrosword in one hand and a blaster pistol in his other hand. Prudii stood to one side of the hatch, Vik the other. Prudii held up three fingers, then two, then one.

 

He leapt into the middle of the hatch and fired down, while Vik rolled down the ramp, firing his pistol, and slashed one of the rebels' legs off with his vibrosword. Yuun and Forex went down the ramp next, the droid firing and the Gand slashing with his electrostaff. Prudii glanced at Dorne, nodded, and charged down the ramp with her by his side. HK-51 came out last, sniper rifle cracking.

 

Sixty seconds later, the hangar was cleared. Yuun ran over to a console and hacked in, locking down the Depot's internal communications, and reprogramming the automated defense turrets to fire on the separatists. He gave Prudii a curt nod and moved to one side of the closed door.

 

"Republic Fleet, this is Major Prudii," he said. "We're in."

 

"Roger that, Major," replied Captain Haken of the Esseles. "We're moving in."

 

Prudii cut off the comlink connection and moved to the other side of the door, opposite Yuun. Dorne, Forex, and HK-51 took up firing positions directly in front of the door. Vik planted a breach charge on the door and rolled aside, next to Yuun, as the charge exploded. Yuun rolled a thermal grenade in, and its crack was followed by a series of screams from a pair of separatist commandos.

 

"Havoc Squad," Prudii said, "take-take-take!"

 

They charged in, moving down the halls and systematically exterminating all the separatists they found. This process was helped greatly by the turrets Yuun had reprogrammed, which had already killed off multiple separatists. They moved swiftly through the Depot, until they reached the cross-corridor where barracks met the armories. An entire squad of separatists waited for them, and as Prudii charged around the corner he had to cease his momentum and land flat on his back to avoid the hail of blaster bolts that shot overhead. Yuun, next in line, ducked back and held up a hand, signaling the squad to stop.

 

Prudii fired from the ground, cutting down the first five separatists in line. Yuun rolled into the center of the hall and hurled a vibroknife, which landed cleanly in a separatist captain's throat. The captain fell, his rifle firing a few times into the air, and died. Prudii got to his feet and fired a few bursts at a heavily-armed separatist. The sep went down, dropping a grenade launcher. Vik and Forex came next, their weapons firing.

 

"Clear," Prudii said.

 

Dorne and HK-51 came in last, weapons raised but not firing. Prudii nodded, sighed in relief, and swung his rifle down the hall with the barracks. When he found no targets, he straightened and slowly lowered his rifle. Yuun, who had taken the armory hall, lowered his weapon, too.

 

"All targets exterminated," Yuun said.

 

"Find the prison cells," Prudii said. "See if Jorgan is in any of them."

 

Yuun nodded. "Yuun is on it."

 

"Everyone else, with me. Let's get the command center."

 

"Roger that."

 

Prudii moved to the turbolift and called it, then stepped aside. The lift came down, and no blaster bolts shot out, so he went in. The others filed in after him. Prudii pressed the command to go to the command center, and stepped back against the left side of the lift.

 

"Ready...?"

 

The other members of Havoc gave confirming replies. When the lift reached the top, Prudii tensed. The doors opened, and a hail of blaster bolts flew in, slamming into the back of the lift. Prudii rolled a grenade back into the command center. It exploded, and Prudii whirled, and took down a pair of technicians armed with blaster pistols. Vik and Dorne took down the rest of the enemies on the bridge.

 

"Move," Prudii said.

 

They walked to the head of the command center, where the separatist leader stood, arms crossed, looking out over Bilbringi Shipyards. Prudii trained his rifle on the man's back. HK-51 and Forex took up firing positions, while Vik and Dorne took control of the dead technicians' stations.

 

"Captain Haken, this is Havoc Squad," Dorne said. "We have control of the station."

 

"Roger that," Haken replied. "We're moving to block all access corridors to the system. If the Imperials come out, they'll do so with the Esseles' cannons up their reactor shafts. Haken out."

 

"Havoc out."

 

"You're mistaken to think you've won," the separatist leader said.

 

"I think you're the one who's mistaken," Prudii replied.

 

The separatist leader reached down to a control switch at his side. "No," he said. "I'm not."

 

"Self-destruct!" Prudii said. "Take him down!"

 

He, HK-51, and Forex all fired, filling the separatist leader instantly with dozens of blaster bolts. But it did not stop the leader from flipping the switch before he died.

 

"Five minutes to self-destruct," an automated voice said.

 

"Blast!" Prudii snarled. "Get Yuun up here. If the Depot goes, so does the entire shipyard! He has to shut it down!"

 

"Roger," Elara replied. "Contacting him now. Leftenant Yuun, are you there? Leftenant?"

 

"Yuun is here. Yuun is sorry, but Yuun cannot find Jorgan."

 

Prudii sighed. "Forget Jorgan for now! Get up here before we all go up in smoke!"

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Chapter 12

 

Dha crossed his arms and tried not to tap his foot. He stood in the back corner of the Oyu'baat tapcaf in Keldabe, waiting for Jogo. The other Mandalorian was an hour late. Though Dha was pretty sure Jogo knew nothing of manners, Dha considered it extremely rude and dishonorable to be this late.

 

Finally, the young warrior entered, his gold-orange armor looking like it had been through two weeks of wilderness survival training, and failed. Jogo had that perpetual sneer on his face that made everyone in the vicinity bop him one in the nose. Unfortunately Jogo had, despite his age, earned a fairly fierce combat reputation, and so anyone trying to do so would likely end up hurting themselves more than Jogo.

 

Dha, on the other hand, could probably get away with it.

 

Jogo had stepped up to the bar and was ordering a drink when Dha walked up behind him and swung his fist at the back of Jogo's head. The younger man whirled and caught Dha's wrist, following it up with a punch to Dha's midriff, but Dha dodged aside and swung his other arm in a backhand blow that knocked Jogo to the ground.

 

"I–ah!" Jogo grunted. "What was that for?"

 

"Being late," Dha hissed. He knelt. "Now, please, do not do it again, or our partnership is over before it begins."

 

Jogo got to his feet, rubbed the side of his face where Dha had hit him, and nodded.

 

"All right," he muttered. "I got it."

 

"Okay, Jogo, now let's talk."

 

"Why do you...want to partner with me?" Jogo asked. "I mean, you've got Torian already, and your wife, and the other three. Your credits are already turned into a six-way split, why make it seven?"

 

"Because," Dha replied, "I hear you're a bodyguard for a smuggler. A particularly elusive smuggler."

 

Jogo snorted. "That's what this is about. So you're saying that you want me to back out of agreement with Hylo Visz and let you accept the bounty on her head?"

 

"No," Dha said. "I just have a friend who would very much like me to pass on a message to her."

 

Jogo frowned. "That's it? We don't get to hunt bounties together, no glorious hunt, no battles? Fine, then maybe I won't take you to her."

 

Dha rolled his eyes. "Come on, Jogo. You're not that stupid, are you? All right, if you take me to Hylo, I will go on one hunt with you. You pick the target, and you can look at my private list of bounties to choose. In fact, I'll even let you look over the whole list and accept two more of the bounties after our partnerships terminate. You tell me which two before you leave, and if I see you coming near any of the others, I take you out. Got it?"

 

Jogo's eyes were filled with greed. "Black List targets? One with you, two without? Deal."

 

Dha nodded. "Good. Oh, and Gault's on the Black List right now, for a reason I can't determine. Don't accept that bounty."

 

"Okay, fine. By the way, how is the Devaronian?"

 

Tales of Gault's sacrifice to save Mako had spread over Mandalore, and he was gaining respect for the action even from the dredges of the world's warriors.

 

"Good," Dha replied. "He's woken up a few times, he even came to Makeb with us, though he stayed on the ship to rest and didn't go down to the planet. He...well, his reaction to seeing himself on the Black List was quite humorous."

 

"Figures. All right, then. I'll take you to Hylo Visz. After that bounty you promised."

 

"All right, then, let's head to my ship, and you can look at my listings. Come on."

 

Jogo nodded. "After you, Champion."

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Chapter 13

 

The thing about being a Chiss, Merok decided, was that he was instantly recognizable across the galaxy as not supposed to be there. So, before going on his next mission, he requisitioned the best disguise he could find.

 

Makeup and some extra prosthetics around his cheeks and forehead made him look like a human, and he inserted eye-coloring contact lenses that changed his pure red eyes to a more human look, with only the corneas being colored, in this case a deep blue.

 

He wore a casual tan tunic with a brown vest thrown over it, and had two blasters slung at his sides. He also carried his rifle in its traditional position across his back. To complete his look of a mercenary-for-hire, he wore an ammo bandolier across his chest with a vibroknife slid into a hidden sheath under the armpit.

 

"How do I look?" he asked Raina.

 

She smiled. "Well, certainly not as fun as the Nar Shaddaa getup, but you certainly look the daring rogue."

 

"Thank you...I think. Your costume's not bad either."

 

She wore simple civilian garb, a blue shirt and tan pants, and there was no sign of her being anything more than a woman you might pass walking from home to work. She had a holdout blaster hidden up her sleeve and another at the small of her back.

 

"Thank you," she replied.

 

"Hey, Agent!" called Kaliyo. "Coming in for a landing."

 

"Roger that," he replied. "I'm on my way."

 

* * *

 

Jasin crossed his arms and looked through the one-way glass as Agent Theron Shan, SIS, interrogated the prisoner. Beside him, Scourge leaned against the wall, infinitely patient. Jasin was still having trouble with Scourge. His words, his attitude, were totally at odds with his demeanor most of the time. Whereas he spoke of being Sith to the end and using the dark side, he was always the epitome of calm. He never seemed in a rush, never acted like Jasin expected a Sith to.

 

Maybe that's what happened when you could live forever.

 

"About that thing on Geonosis," Jasin said. "What was that?"

 

Scourge frowned. "What do you mean?"

 

"That thing you said, when we were running toward the frigate. You said that you could leave us to die and find another Jedi. What was that?"

 

"I...apologize," Scourge said. "It was not something that I intended to say. Know that no other Jedi could handle the Emperor as you had. I was just concentrating so hard, the words spewed out before I could control them."

 

Jasin nodded. "Well, just don't let it happen again. Rusk might take you seriously and decide to do something about it."

 

Scourge smiled wanly. "Let him try."

 

Theron exited the interrogation room. "That's it," he said. "He doesn't know anything about Black Sun's overall scheme. About anything."

 

"Thanks for trying," Jasin replied. "Come on, Scourge, let's go."

 

* * *

 

Quinn woke with a start and tried desperately to look around. But there was nothing. He tried to suck in air, and all he got was a taste of wet fabric. He started panicking, panting. He tried to yank at whatever was covering his head, but his hands were tied behind his back.

 

Suddenly, he felt a cold, coin-sized depression pressed against his forehead, and he went completely still. He sighed when it slowly lowered.

 

"Don't struggle," a rough voice said. "You're not that indispensable."

 

Quinn nodded his understanding. "Where am I?"

 

"That's classified."

 

"Who are you?"

 

"Your worst nightmare."

 

A heavy combat boot landed in his chest, and he rolled over in pain. Slowly, he got to his knees, and just sat there, panting. Another voice came from nearby.

 

"Is that an Imperial accent I hear?"

 

"Yes. Who are you?"

 

"I'm a prisoner, like you. The only one like you, as far as I know."

 

"Nope," the guard said with a tormenting laugh. "There are more. Just separated."

 

Quinn got his teeth around the cloth covering his head. Maybe...

 

"Yes, you're a prisoner," Quinn said, "but you're not Imperial. Who are you?"

 

"I'm a soldier."

 

"Republic?"

 

"Well, I'm not Imperial."

 

"Commando? Infantry?"

 

"Commando. But I shouldn't be telling you this. Technically, you're an enemy."

 

"Technically, blast all that," Quinn muttered. "We have to work together to get–"

 

"Shut up," the guard said.

 

"Guess you're right," the other prisoner responded. "What do you have in mind?"

 

"I said, shut up!"

 

There was a crack like a rifle butt slamming against the other prisoner's forehead, and a groan. Quinn sighed, feeling sorry for the other man, but thanking him silently for the distraction. He bit down as hard as he could, and there was a small ripping sound, so small Quinn thought he was the only one who could hear it. Silently, he worked his boot across the floor, trying to find–

 

Ah, there.

 

"You won't get away with this!" he snarled, and braced for what was to come.

 

The rifle slammed against his head, and he saw stars even despite bracing for it. He rolled over, and as he did he aimed the small tear at the mouth of the cloth at what he'd felt on the floor earlier. The rough outcropping caught the cloth and ripped, ripped–there!

 

Quinn could see. The guard had his back turned, so he had a moment to get a look around. He appeared to be in a cave, and it was very...wet. The other prisoner was wearing a Republic-issue bodysuit, so his armor had clearly been taken from him. Behind Quinn was the exit from the cave, a long tunnel Quinn couldn't see the end off.

 

Then the guard turned. "Hey!"

 

Quinn started to protest. "It came off when you hit me, I–"

 

The guard fired a stun blast, and Quinn's world went dark again.

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Chapter 14

 

Jasin frowned as he entered the Silent Sun cantina on Coruscant. He and his allies had been meeting here ever since the war broke out, as a kind of place where they could catch up and reminisce between battles and missions. He hadn't been here since just after the Dread Masters had attacked Mandalore.

 

Pulling his brown robes around him, he used the Force to summon a napkin and thoroughly wipe down the greasy table. It was the same table they always congregated at, so it was a moment of nostalgia. He saw again the events of the previous months, and wished Master Orgus had been able to experience them all.

 

Gareb entered a moment later and greeted Jasin, then sat down. It didn't take long for Dankin and Backblast to arrive, as well. Jasin frowned.

 

"Where's Prudii?" he asked.

 

"Putting down a rebellion in the Bilbringi shipyards," Backblast said.

 

Jasin frowned. "Hmm. It won't be the same without him."

 

"So why did you call us?" Dankin asked.

 

"Me?" Jasin raised an eyebrow at him. "I received a call."

 

"Me too," Gareb agreed.

 

"And so did I..." Backblast finished.

 

"Sorry for the deception, a fifth voice said.

 

Agent Theron Shan stepped up to the table, pulled a chair around, and straddled it. He greeted each of them in turn, and then pulled out a datapad.

 

"Why did you call us here?" Dankin asked.

 

"To give you the full scoop," Theron said. "Okay, you all know something's up with Black Sun. Jasin dealt with them on Geonosis and Tatooine, Dankin and Backblast dealt with them during a convoy ambush, location classified, and Gareb...they attacked you on Tython Station."

 

Gareb's gaze hardened. "That's who they were?"

 

Theron nodded solemnly. "Black Sun enforcers."

 

"An unusual coincidence," Jasin said. "It's not a coincidence, is it?"

 

"No. Let me explain..."

 

* * *

 

Yuun ran up to the terminal and started hacking in. Prudii looked around nervously. They didn't have long, and there was no way they'd clear the blast radius, even if they took off now. He activated his comlink.

 

"Esseles, this is Prudii," he said. "Pull out. A self-destruct has been armed that will take out the entire shipyard. Go!"

 

"Major, we can't leave you," Haken argued.

 

"We couldn't get out if we tried," Prudii said grimly. "Go, we'll try to deactivate the timer."

 

"Roger that. May the Force be with you, Major."

 

Prudii winced at the expression. "Good luck, Captain."

 

Elara stepped up next to Yuun and glanced down nervously at the console. Vik ripped open a wall panel and began working with the wiring there. HK-51 and M1-4X stood back, unable to help in any way, and Prudii felt just as helpless as they must've.

 

"Yuun cannot deactivate it from here," he said. "We must find the alpha bomb and shut it down."

 

"Where is it?"

 

"In the Depot...somewhere. Yuun is trying to find out."

 

"Hurry."

 

"Two minutes," Elara muttered.

 

"Mournful statement: I will remain behind," HK-51 said, "and try to delay the detonation. I may be able to stop it long enough to allow you to get out alive."

 

"No!" M1-4X argued. "I will stay."

 

"But you'll be destroyed."

 

"Observation: You are more important to the destruction of the Empire than I am, Major. I cannot in good conscience allow you to die here."

 

"Obviously," Forex said, "HK is more valuable than I am in assassination. Go."

 

"I can't let two brave soldiers and valuable assets die."

 

"Irked statement: You must go, Major!"

 

"No."

 

"Blast you!" HK-51 snarled.

 

"Sir, this is not acceptable!" Forex groaned.

 

Prudii raised an eyebrow, but smiled. "I'd be mad if you weren't trying to do an honorable thing. Thank you, HK. And Forex, it is acceptable. No arguing."

 

"Resentful reply: It was the least I could do, Major."

 

Prudii nodded. "Don't be resentful HK. I couldn't be more proud of you. And you, Forex."

 

"Hey!" Vik called. "C'mere!"

 

Prudii and Elara dashed over to where Vik was. He ripped a few more wires out of the wall.

 

"Guess what I found?"

 

Prudii whistled.

 

"The alpha bomb."

 

Vik nodded. "Yep."

 

"Can you disable it?"

 

"Sir, if you had wires, I could disable you. Step back."

 

"One minute," Yuun called.

 

Vik worked for several tense seconds, getting a hold of the bomb and working at the control panel and the wiring. Prudii tensed as the seconds went by, knowing they were dead.

 

"Five," Yuun said.

 

Elara closed her eyes, and Prudii wrapped his arms around her.

 

"Four, three, two..."

 

Vik ripped a handful of wires out. "Bomb disabled."

 

Prudii sighed in relief, and kissed Elara hard on the lips.

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Chapter 15

 

"And the Black Sun shouldn't be nearly that influential," said Theron. "In fact, based on what has happened on Makeb, and with Dread Master Styrak, the Hutt Cartel should be the most influential crime family in the underworld. Black Sun's rise makes no sense."

 

"They've got funders," Backblast said. "Question is, who?"

 

"Agreed," Jasin said. "This bears investigating."

 

"Already on it," Theron said.

 

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the cantina entrance, and a bouncer went flying back into the wall. Scourge, Iresso, and Akaavi ran in. Another bouncer looked up and stepped toward them. Scourge lifted him with the Force and slammed him against the wall.

 

"What's going on?" Jasin demanded.

 

"We were attacked," Akaavi said.

 

"They took Zenith," Iresso said. "They tried for Qyzen, but you know how he despises the thought of being captured. You should've seen him fight. Never seen anything like it..."

 

"They got Guss, too," Akaavi added.

 

"Our crew is undamaged, surprisingly," Scourge muttered.

 

"Who was it?" Jasin demanded.

 

"We think Black Sun," Akaavi said. "They all wore dark blast armor, and..."

 

Suddenly there was a series of whirs, and half the cantina's patrons had blasters pointed at the table. Jasin grabbed his lightsaber off his belt and hissed.

 

"This was a trap," he said.

 

"Looks that way," Theron muttered.

 

"They've been watching us," Dankin said. "They knew we'd come in here."

 

"We can fight out," Scourge hissed.

 

Theron nodded. "Capture ain't an option."

 

"On my mark," Jasin said. He ignited his blade. "Now!"

 

He leapt forward, his silver-blue blade hissing in the night, and slashed the arms off one man. Blaster bolts instantly started criss-crossing the room. Jasin kicked a table over on top of two Rodians and a Weequay, and then turned and Force pushed a Nikto away from Dankin. The smuggler kicked a human between the legs, shoved him away, and rolled behind an overturned table.

 

Scourge and Gareb leapt into battle, lightsabers and thrown objects filling the air. Jasin turned and bashed a Duros just above his right eye, and the thug collapsed. The bartender was reaching for something under the bar, but before Jasin could react Theron Shan fired a blaster bolt into the man's ribs.

 

Iresso and Akaavi stood back-to-back, Akaavi cutting down enemies with her staff while Iresso shot people too far for Akaavi's flamethrower to reach. Jasin leapt to the next floor of the cantina and cut a large man's sniper rifle in half. The man pulled out a vibroshiv and leapt at Jasin. Swiftly, he used the Force to render the man unconscious, and then leapt down to knock out a Gamorrean charging bodily at Gareb.

 

"Outside!" Jasin said. "Go!"

 

"I'll cover you!" said Iresso and Dankin in unison.

 

They glanced at each other, nodded. Reluctantly, Jasin took out two more thugs and ran out the door, Gareb and Scourge behind him. On the way out, Akaavi fired her flamethrower, torching the potted plants and several spilled alcoholic drinks.

 

Jasin paused outside, his mouth agape. Everywhere, Coruscant Security Force officers were trading blaster bolts with Black Sun thugs. Jasin reignited his lightsaber and hurled it at a Zabrak about to attack a civilian woman and her child. The lightsaber cut the alien clean in half and returned to Jasin's hand. The mother and child ran away to the safety of a CSF vehicle.

 

"This isn't just a coincidence," Jasin said. "This is an uprising!"

 

* * *

 

Quinn had been joined by several other prisoners, some of whose voices he recognized–at least, Andronikos Revel. There were others, who sounded at least familiar, but he did not know them. One was a watery-sounding voice, leading him to believe it was a Mon Calamari or Quarren. Another voice was gruff and unfeeling, and Quinn's radar said "career politician."

 

"Five of us now," Quinn said.

 

"Shut up," the guard said.

 

After so many hours, maybe even a day or two, the guard had ceased to sound annoyed. He didn't even hurt them anymore, he just muttered in boredom. Quinn could sympathize–he was now trying to count the threads in the hood covering his eyes, but it was too dark to do so.

 

"Five of us," the watery voice said. "Any of you got Force powers?"

 

"I said, shut up!" the guard growled.

 

"No, I don't," said the first prisoner Quinn had met.

 

"Neither do I," added Andronikos.

 

"Or me," muttered the politician.

 

"Next person to talk gets shot," the guard growled.

 

Quinn tapped his boot on the floor in two quick, precise raps–a code he and the first prisoner had worked out in the time they'd been here. Then, he braced for pain.

 

"I don't," Quinn said.

 

The stun bolt whizzed through the air–and grazed Quinn's arm. Quinn rolled over and heard several loud thumps. He caught the ropes on his arms in the outcropping and pulled. Hard. The ropes came off, but blood soaked his wrists, and he winced. He reached up and pulled his blindfold off.

 

The first prisoner had the guard on the ground, and he slammed his head into the guard's. The guard groaned and collapsed, unconscious. As Quinn had suspected, the watery-sounding prisoner was a Mon Calamari, and Andronikos was in the room, too. The political type was a Twi'lek. Quickly, Quinn freed them of their bonds. The prisoner who had taken out the guard was a Cathar.

 

"Nice work," Quinn said.

 

"Looks like we're in this together," Andronikos said.

 

"Much as I hate to work with an Imperial," said the Twi'lek, "he's right."

 

"I'm Guss Tuno," the Mon Calamari said. "You guys?"

 

"Andronikos Revel."

 

"I'm called Zenith," the Twi'lek said.

 

"Malavai Quinn."

 

"I'm Aric Jorgan," the Cathar finished.

 

"Anyone got a plan?" Guss asked.

 

"I do," Jorgan said. "We take the guard's weapons and shoot our way out of here, steal a ship, and get to a civilized planet. Then we go our separate ways and bring forces back here to bomb this place to a crater."

 

Quinn shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

 

Jorgan picked up the guard's rifle, sighted it, and nodded, satisfied. Quinn knelt and picked up the holstered pistol. It was a less-than-ideal weapon, but it'd work. Guss got the guard's vibroknife, but Andronikos and Zenith glanced at each other in disappointment when they realized there weren't any more weapons.

 

"Don't worry," said Jorgan. "Few more guards and there'll be enough dropped weapons for you. Let's go."

 

Quinn nodded. "Quickly now. Come."

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Chapter 16

 

Backblast shoved Dankin down behind a speeder as blaster bolts shot overhead. Dankin felt air whoosh out of his lungs, reached for his blaster, and found it out of arm's reach under the speeder. He winced, rolled over, and with a grunt grabbed the blaster. Then he reached down and pulled out his offhand weapon.

 

"Ugh, we need backup," he muttered.

 

"Working on it," Backblast replied. "I can't cut through the interference."

 

Dankin jammed a thumb over his shoulder. "How about using the CSF command speeder?"

 

Backblast grinned, nodded. "You missed your calling, little brother. You'd have been a great strategist."

 

Dankin shuddered. "Perish the thought. While you're at it, call Corso and the others and get them down here."

 

"Right."

 

Backblast dashed back to the CSF speeder, and as he did Dankin threw down a personal energy shield and ducked behind it. He waited for a wave of blaster bolts to spatter in front of the shield, and then stood and barraged the Black Sun thugs with fire.

 

* * *

 

Darth Nox stood beside Darth Marr, staring down at Kaas City, and felt rage boil up through his lekku. Below, hundreds of Black Sun enforcers ran rampant through the city, terrorizing the citizens of the Empire. Nox squeezed his hands into fists, let out an angry hiss.

 

"This cannot go unpunished," he growled.

 

"It will not," Marr replied, a threatening edge in his voice. "Nox, you send your Dashade and the rest of your servants down to fight. I will summon the Mandalorian who has served us so well."

 

Nox nodded. "What of the Emperor's Wrath?"

 

"Already fighting."

 

* * *

 

Methic leapt among the thugs, slashing them limb from limb. Jaesa stood beside him, spinning her double-bladed lightsaber and reflecting blaster bolts back at shooters. On Methic's flank, Vette knelt, pulled her twin blasters, and opened fire. Pierce shouldered a rocket launcher and fired at a Black Sun speeder mounted by a squad of enforcers. Broonmark blorrp-ed out an enraged bellow and leapt in, his vibrosword swinging from side to side in wild strokes as he decapitated enemy after enemy.

 

Methic hurled both his lightsabers. They came around, sheared through two enforcers, and landed back in Methic's hands. Then he whirled and did a back-stab that impaled a large Weequay. The alien fell, dropping his assault rifle.

 

Finally, reinforcements arrived–a full battalion of Imperial Special Forces, each squad led by a Sith Apprentice or Lord. Lightsabers and blaster bolts flashed, the heroes of the Empire protecting its citizens. Methic turned, slashed diagonally, and cut a human enforcer in half before he could impale an elderly man cowering down in the street corner.

 

"Go," Methic said.

 

"Thank you, My Lord," the man babbled, and ran.

 

* * *

 

Quinn rolled out into the tunnel and fired. The blaster bolt caught a Gen'Dai guard in the chin, and the alien dropped, but did not die. Jorgan shouldered his rifle and fired a full round into the Gen'Dai. Finally, it died. Zenith ran forward and swept up the dead alien's rifle, while Andronikos took the alien's blaster pistol, and Guss took its vibroknife, now wielding one in each hand.

 

"Move," Quinn said.

 

The group stepped down the hall–and Quinn whirled and fired a blaster bolt into the roof of the cavern. The shadow he'd seen leapt aside, dropped to the ground, and charged forward. Jorgan raised his rifle, but the dark blur slapped the rifle away and grabbed Quinn by the throat.

 

"Cease," it commanded. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already killed you."

 

Quinn nodded, and the shadow released him. It was a Cathar, like Jorgan, Quinn saw, though that was where the similarities ended. It had pitch-black fur and dark blue eyes that made him blend into the shadows. In addition, he wore a flexible combat suit and had a blaster strapped to his right leg.

 

"You must tell your governments of what transpired here," he said. "My name is Jodark, but time is brief, so I cannot explain how I came to be here."

 

"What exactly do we need to tell?" Quinn asked.

 

"Tell them Black Sun–"

 

There was the sound of marching feet, and Jodark hissed. He whipped out his blaster and whirled, firing a blaster bolt behind him.

 

"Go!" he said. "Get out! Tell your forces to come here!"

 

Quinn nodded. "Fight well."

 

"Thank you. Now, go!"

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Chapter 17

 

Jedi reinforcements had arrived, as had Republic Special Forces. Black Sun was being routed–but not enough were being killed or captured. All that ended up happening was Black Sun was being centered in one primary area; they were being forced into their own territory, where they had all the advantages.

 

"There's got to be a different way to go about this," Master Shol Bestros of the Jedi Council said.

 

"Unfortunately, there isn't," Gareb replied firmly.

 

Gathered in the triage/command center they'd set up around the Black Sun speeder pad, the Jedi Council, Republic Command, SIS, and CSF were standing around a giant holomap of the area. Unfortunately, to minimize civilian casualties, they were having to play this Black Sun's way, forcing them into areas they knew, where the Republic would take more casualties but Black Sun couldn't hurt innocents. Jasin and the others had been air-lifted out of the area around Silent Sun cantina about forty-five minutes ago, and the battle had been raging hard since then.

 

"A quick air strike could end it," observed SIS agent Jonas Balkar.

 

"Too much collateral," replied Director Marcus Trant, via holocall.

 

"We have to do this the hard way, unfortunately," agreed Master Satele Shan. "This is bad. It's pulling us back from the frontlines, giving the Empire time to advance."

 

"Incorrect, mo–ah, Master Shan," Theron Shan said. "Certain spies on Dromund Kaas indicates the exact same thing is happening there."

 

"Really?" Jace Malcom asked incredulously. "Black Sun is planning something big."

 

"I sense something more behind all this," Gareb said with a frown.

 

Backblast nodded. "Nothing for it. We'd better get back to the fight. Is Havoc Squad on planet yet?"

 

"We've summoned them," General Garza said. "They're en route now."

 

"Good." Backblast motioned to a squad of soldiers and CSF officers. "Let's go."

 

* * *

 

Merok crossed his arms and stood in front of the pair of Black Sun vigos. He glanced around. The building was small, shabby, nothing special. But they'd blindfolded him on the way in, obviously not wanting him to know where he was being taken.

 

"You want to join Black Sun," stated one vigo, a female Togruta.

 

"Why?" asked the other, a male Zabrak.

 

"Why not?" Merok countered. "Black Sun is the place to be if you want to earn big credits."

 

"Sure," the Zabrak said. "But that don't mean you got the skills to join."

 

"Want me to prove myself?"

 

For this mission, Merok had dropped his distinctive accent. It would put them on the defensive. Still, he found himself accidentally inserting a bit of accentuation into the word myself.

 

"Yes," the Zabrak said.

 

The two thugs behind Merok–the first, large and muscular, a Trandoshan, the second lean but athletic, a Duros–lunged. Merok whirled in an instant. They'd taken all his weapons: rifle, pistol, shiv. So he'd just have to do this the old-fashioned way. Turning, he grabbed the Duros by the neck and hurled him into the Trandoshan. Then he brought his left foot up in a roundhouse kick at the Duros' head, but stopped short, whirled, and punched him in the right temple. The Duros collapsed. The Trandoshan regained its footing, lunged. Merok rolled aside, grabbed the Trandoshan's belt, and pulled. The alien was too large for Merok to sling him around, but his move nonetheless halted the Trandoshan's momentum, bringing him crashing down. The reptilian rolled over and stood up, claws outstretched, and Merok brought his knee up between the Trandoshan's legs. Not waiting to see if that hurt the alien, he brought his fists together, clapping the alien on his ears. The Trandoshan crumpled.

 

Sixty seconds or less had passed, and Merok had defeated both enemies without taking damage himself.

 

"Impressive," the Zabrak said. "We'll bring you to the overlord. Come."

 

* * *

 

Quinn jerked the control stick on the light freighter they'd stolen. Jorgan, in the upper cannon, opened fire, tearing a hole in the cave ceiling. Quinn flew out–and was startled when he came out in a labyrinth of pipes and metal. He juked left, barely avoiding crashing into a sewage pipe, and blew through to the surface.

 

"Jorgan," he said. "Get up here, now."

 

Jorgan darted into the cockpit, and as he did his jaw slackened. The others, behind him, had similar expressions. Quinn nodded glumly, sitting back to look at the display before him.

 

"We're on Coruscant," he said. "And it's under attack."

 

"Makes sense," Jorgan said. "There are underground reservoirs, and we probably were in one just now."

 

Quinn nodded. "Right. And if that was really Black Sun that captured us, Coruscant is their logical base of operation."

 

"Only they're attacking it," Guss muttered.

 

"Right."

 

Suddenly, there was a tracking alarm, and Quinn tried to pull the ship to his left. His gut felt like it had a block of ice in it.

 

"We're caught in a tractor beam," he said. "And it's not a Republic ship."

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Chapter 18

 

As Skadge piloted the Mantis over Kaas City, Dha checked his armaments. Blaster pistol, flamethrower, jetpack, wrist grapple, vibroknuckler. Check. He grinned and slammed his helmet down and ran down to the hold. Torian and Jogo stood by the exit hatch.

 

"Ready?" Dha asked.

 

"Ready," replied Torian.

 

"We're over the heart of the action," Skadge called.

 

"Go-go-go!" Dha said.

 

He, Torian, and Jogo leapt out of the ship and activated their jetpacks. They shot down and Dha was horrified at what he saw. Hundreds of Sith and Imperial troopers were fighting Black Sun thugs. Dha had never seen the Sith, supposedly evil beings, protecting innocents, but it was an inspiring sight.

 

Dha dropped into the streets, whipped up his blaster, and shot a Black Sun enforcer in the back of the head. Then he turned and shot an explosive dart at a thug behind him. Jogo landed beside him, whipped out his vibrosword, and slashed a thug from shoulder to hip.

 

Torian landed last, spinning his techstaff so fast it deflected blaster bolts into the ground and even a lucky few back at the shooters. Dha shot forward on his belly, sliding under Torian's legs, back-flipped, landed on his feet, and shot back behind Torian's shoulder to kill a Nikto behind him.

 

"That was impressive," Jogo said.

 

"That's nothing," Dha replied with a grin.

 

He activated his jetpack, shot into the air, and dropped a barrage of rockets on a squad of enforcers. He deactivated his pack, dropped to the ground, and fired his grapple. It caught a human around the waist, and Dha yanked him forward, driving his fist up into his chest. The guy dropped, unconscious.

 

"Dha!" someone called.

 

Dha whirled, surprised, and saw Methic across the square, his lightsabers lit and a trio of corpses lying in front of him. Dha grinned and nodded to Methic.

 

"Fancy seeing you here," Dha said.

 

"It's like the old gang back together again," Methic replied.

 

"Except, no Nox or Cipher Nine."

 

"Actually, Nox is fighting thugs up at the Citadel."

 

"Good riddance. I do wish Cipher was here, though."

 

Methic nodded. "Would be good to have him."

 

* * *

 

Prudii's ship dived low over Coruscant. He was about to land, when suddenly the comlink squawked and a familiar voice came over the comm.

 

"Any Republic ship, this is Aric Jorgan! I am caught in a tractor beam at these coordinates and need immediate help."

 

Prudii yanked the ship to the side and shot toward the signal. Elara ran into the cockpit, alarmed, and stood behind Prudii. Vik and Yuun followed her in.

 

"What's going on?" asked Elara.

 

"I just got a signal from Jorgan."

 

"Where?"

 

"Over the Works," Prudii replied.

 

Vik slammed down into the weapons' station and started firing at Black Sun starfighters. Prudii spun the BT-7, dodging blaster bolts shooting overhead. Vik tore a hole in one starfighter, rotated the cannon, and blew the engines off another.

 

"There!" Yuun said. "The freighter. It is being pulled into that Black Sun command ship."

 

"We're going in," Prudii said. "Forcibly."

 

He pulled the BT-7 into the Black Sun ship's hangar, loaded his rifle, and stormed down for the exit ramp.

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Chapter 19

 

Darth Nox sneered at the Black Sun attackers. He exited the Sith Sanctum, Khem at one side and Xalek at the other. They had their weapons drawn, but Nox did not. The attackers shouldered their rifles, barrels pointed at Nox but a few swaying nervously toward Khem. Nox raised his arms.

 

Lightning shot down from the skies, amplified by Nox's power, and sheared through the Black Sun assassins. They dropped like rocks, instantly dead. Two more attackers drew vibroswords and charged. Khem stepped forward calmly, clamped a hand around one's weapon, ripped it away, and disemboweled the man with his massive blade. The assassin dropped. Xalex leapt forward and decapitated the other assassin before he could react.

 

"Impressive," Darth Marr said. "Most impressive."

 

Nox inclined his head. "I would not be on the Dark Council, otherwise."

 

"We should go, My Master," Xalek hissed. "We must destroy the attackers."

 

Nox nodded. "Agreed. At a later date then, Lord Marr."

 

Marr nodded, turned, and walked away to see to the defense of Dromund Kaas. Nox stepped toward another squad of Black Sun attackers, but he did not draw his lightsaber–the one he'd kept under lock and key until Methic had destroyed his other one. The attackers saw him, and whirled. Nox pulled two coin-sized pieces of coral from a belt pouch and hurled them. One landed on the neck of the first attacker, the other struck the second assassin in the side of his head.

 

Instantly, a transformation began. Coral grew from their shoulders, knees, and necks. Their eyes went to an unfathomable black, with wisps of red smoke floating throughout. Their fingers grew coral talons, and they dropped to their knees.

 

"You serve me now," Nox hissed. He knew the Seeds of Rage would come in handy. "Now, go. Destroy your former comrades."

 

* * *

 

Merok stood on the bridge of a Black Sun vessel and felt his blood run cold as he watched the attacks on Dromund Kaas and Coruscant over a holo-terminal. He hated Black Sun; he should blow his cover right now and shoot them all. He could call his crew; he could hold out here long enough for them to arrive. Together they could tear through this ship, capture it, use it to stop the attacks.

 

But he couldn't. He still hadn't learned who was behind this, or who led Black Sun–if the two were not, in fact, one and the same.

 

"Magnificent, isn't it?" muttered a Black Sun vigo.

 

"Unbelievable," Merok muttered.

 

"Utter destruction," agreed another vigo. "Black Sun has never been so powerful."

 

Merok stayed silent, letting the conversation continue.

 

"And it's all due to our grand Underlord," said the first vigo.

 

Merok waited in anticipation, but the conversation ended there. Disappointed, Merok watched the footage. He recognized defenders on both worlds. Jasin, Methic, Dha, Gareb...friends. And they were fighting the same people he was, only they got to use guns and lightsabers, while he was forced to use soft words and vibroknives.

 

"We are in position for the attack," a servant said.

 

"Excellent," said the first vigo. "Glory be to Black Sun. Launch the attack!"

 

* * *

 

Jasin swung his lightsaber in an arc, and its silver-blue blade slashed cleanly through a Black Sun attack droid. They had either run out of organic soldiers, or were tired of letting them die, because there had been nothing but droids for the last two hours. He was getting tired, and his arms felt like lead–but the droids were falling in droves.

 

Gareb ran up beside Jasin and hurled a wrecked speeder at a squad of droids. The droids, flattened, fired their blasters frantically, hitting their own allies. Jasin grinned and reflected a few bolts that managed to come their way. Backblast tossed an EMP grenade, frying all nearby droids.

 

"Okay," Jasin breathed. "We need to stop."

 

"We can't afford to," Backblast replied. "We have to keep pushing."

 

"Can't," panted Dankin. "We need...breather."

 

Corso, Kira, and Risha nodded. Backblast shrugged.

 

"All right," he said. "Everyone, hold here. Gamma Squad, form a perimeter."

 

"Yes, sir!"

 

"I'm surprised Prudii isn't here yet," said Gareb.

 

"Actually, I heard some comm chatter," Backblast replied. "He's here on Coruscant, but he diverted when he got a distress signal from Captain Jorgan."

 

"Was Zenith with them?" Gareb asked.

 

"Or Guss?" added Dankin.

 

Backblast shrugged. "I don't know."

 

Jasin put his head back against a speeder. It was rough, hard, but he didn't care. Right now, he felt like he had to rest or he'd collapse–abruptly, he was somewhere else.

 

Standing on the beach, Jasin looked around. He didn't understand. How had he gotten here? There was a calm in the air...but also menace. Jasin reached down instinctively for his lightsaber, and found not his own, but Orgus Din's. He drew the weapon, and the deep blue blade extended.

 

He turned and saw a rust-colored freighter sitting on the beach nearby. He frowned. He'd never seen a vessel so old, yet it seemed infinitely familiar. As if he'd been on it his whole life, or at least he knew someone who had. He walked toward the freighter.

 

"Find me," a voice said. "You must find me."

 

It was a familiar voice, but the last time he'd heard it, it had been weak, wavering. Now, it was strong–more than strong, it was heroic, charismatic.

 

"You must find me," it said again. "Or the galaxy is doomed."

 

"Doomed?" Jasin asked. "Why?"

 

"The fear will overtake it," the voice said. "The fear will destroy all."

 

"Fear?"

 

"Find me," the voice said reassuringly. "Together we can save the galaxy."

 

Jasin jerked awake, looked around. Backblast was pacing, helmet under his arm. Gareb and Nadia were talking in soft tones, and Dankin was over with his crew, talking to them. Prudii and Havoc Squad were sorely missed–but they were doing what they had to, to save a friend. Kira came over and sat down beside Jasin.

 

"You drifted off," she said.

 

"I know," he said. "I was on a beach, someone was telling me that he needed to help me and..." he froze. "And I know who it was."

 

"Who?"

 

He stood, drew his lightsaber. "We need to finish here, fast. I have to find him."

 

"Find who?"

 

"Revan."

Edited by YoshiRaphElan
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Chapter 20

 

Dha had enemies on three sides, all coming at him with hand weapons. He rammed his gauntlet vibroblade through the throat of one, hurled him backwards, turned, and blasted a second. The third grabbed him beneath his arms in a lock that would keep Dha's weapons pointed at the sky. Two more thugs approached, drawing knives. Dha winced. Torian was nowhere nearby, nor was Jogo. Methic was close, but cramped by dozens of Black Sun thugs going at him. There was no help in sight for Dha.

 

Suddenly, a blaster bolt sheared through the head of the man holding Dha. Dha flipped the corpse over himself, slamming it into the two thugs in front of him. Then, quickly, he executed them both with blaster shots to the temple. He turned and looked into the sky–and grinned.

 

"Your worries are over, Imps, the Mandalorians have arrived!" said Chernan.

 

"Chernan!" he called.

 

"Dha!" greeted his old friend. "Su cuy'gar, ner vod!"

 

"Su cuy'gar! Let's kill these chakaare and go home."

 

Chernan nodded and swept down, his blasters firing rapidly. A squad of Mandalorians followed behind him, dropping blaster bolts and rockets on the heads of the Black Sun thugs. In moments, the square was cleared. Imperials and Sith slowly began to lower their weapons.

 

"We don't have long," Dha said. He turned to a non-Mandalorian mercenary. "You, start rounding up civilians. Get them to the spaceport."

 

The tired mercenary nodded. "Right."

 

Methic was snapping off orders, too. "Get barricades built at every entrance to this square, and set up anti-air weapons. Pierce, get some heavy artillery for the troops."

 

"Roger that!" Pierce replied.

 

He ran off to follow orders. Dha jerked a finger at Torian, motioning him over. Jogo followed.

 

"Let's rally with Chernan and the others," he said. "We can provide air support for the Imps."

 

"Can do," Torian replied.

 

Jogo nodded briskly, sheathed his vibrosword, and moved quickly to join Chernan's force. Dha and Torian followed quickly.

 

* * *

 

In the docking bay of the Black Sun command ship, the Phantom sat, powered down. Raina paced back and forth impatiently, wishing Merok would return so they could get off this ship. Vector was sitting in the cargo bay, speaking softly to the fingerlings. Kaliyo was sleeping, Lokin was working in the medbay, as usual. Scorpio...Raina shuddered. Where was that killer droid?

 

She moved around the ship, looking for Scorpio. She found her in the cockpit, sniper rifle balanced on the dash, pointed out into the docking bay. Raina's eyes widened.

 

"Scorpio!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

 

"Preparing to kill those Black Sun guards out there," Scorpio replied, deadpan.

 

"You do know if you shoot through the viewport and we have to take off in a hurry...the cockpit's air will vent out into space via the giant gaping hole from your rifle."

 

"I know," Scorpio replied coolly. "Too-Vee or I can fly the ship and seal the cockpit."

 

Raina shook her head. "Why not just go down to the exit ramp?"

 

"Because then they'd see me," Scorpio replied.

 

"Scorpio, Merok can take the guards."

 

"You're so confident, are you?"

 

"Well...yes."

 

"Very well. I will remain by the hatch so I can go down and kill them as soon as we get a signal."

 

"Fine."

 

Scorpio brushed back Raina, and Raina shivered. Something about that droid was...creepy.

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Chapter 21

 

There was something about wearing black, Prudii mused, that made one feel invisible. Of course, he couldn't have stood out more if he'd tried. A lean and athletic Zabrak, dark-skinned, he did not have the look of a typical broken-nosed ugly thug. He quickly moved the unconscious body of the Black Sun guard out of the way and picked up the man's helmet.

 

"Elara, I want you to lead the squad down to the engine room," he said. "Have Vik set a timer. Yuun, you divert to the tractor beam and shut it down."

 

"And you, sir?" asked Elara.

 

"I'm going to find Captain Jorgan."

 

He slipped on the helmet and moved down the hall, rifle cradled in his hands. A pair of Black Sun enforcers saw him and nodded. He nodded back. His helmet comlink squawked.

 

"All enforcers, report to the aft hangar!" a voice said. "We have fighters."

 

Prudii charged that way, as did the two enforcers. He let them pass him...and then blasted them both in the back. Leaving the bodies where they lay, he sprinted for the hangar. There, a man in a ripped Imperial uniform stood at the bottom of a shuttle's ramp, firing down at the enforcers. Behind them were a Mon Calamari, a Twi'lek, a human, and...

 

"Jorgan!"

 

Jorgan looked up, confused, saw him, and his eyes widened. He leaned down to the Imperial, tapped him on the shoulder, and whispered in his ear. The Imperial nodded. Prudii moved behind the enforcers and bashed one on the back of the head. A trio of blaster bolts shot past him and hit another enforcer.

 

"Let's move!" Prudii said. "We have a ship in the other hangar."

 

"Right," the Imperial said with a nod.

 

Jorgan moved up beside Prudii as they marched briskly through the ship.

 

"Thanks for coming, sir," he said.

 

"And miss this party?" Prudii grinned. "Not a chance."

 

* * *

 

Elara knelt by the engine core and nodded to Vik. He strapped on a charge and set the timer. Elara nodded to him, stood, and pulled her blaster from its holster.

 

"Hey!" a voice said.

 

Forex and HK-51 caught him in a crossfire, and he went down–but the damage was done. Alarms began sounding. Elara uttered a Mandalorian word Prudii had taught her and motioned for the squad to get moving. She sprinted down the corridor in the lead. Ahead, a squad of enforcers saw them coming and raised their rifles. Dorne dropped, sliding, and fired. Her bolt caught the first enforcer in the throat. Vik leapt in with his vibrosword to engage a Trandoshan enforcer, who also wielded a vibrosword.

 

Elara rolled aside and crouched behind a stack of barrels. She took aim and blasted an enforcer, a clean head shot. Forex and HK-51 laid down covering fire, and the enforcer squad went down quickly.

 

"Let's move," Elara said. "What's the time on those charges?"

 

"Three minutes," Vik replied.

 

"Hurry."

 

* * *

 

Yuun pulled down the lever, nodded to himself, and pulled back into the shadows, becoming a ghost. He crept through the ship and was halfway back to the BT-7 when the alarms sounded. He frowned. Surely they hadn't detected him, had they?

 

He heard blaster bolts down the hall and decided they hadn't.

 

Yuun moved toward the turbolift and activated it. He stepped inside and pressed the hangar button. Unfortunately someone else had called the lift, and it stopped on the dorm floor. Yuun stepped back into the turbolift's shadows, readying a vibroknife. Two enforcers stepped in. When the lift doors closed, Yuun leapt forward silently and slit one's throat before they even saw him. The other let out a cry and pulled out a pistol, but Yuun rammed his knife into the man's gut. He dropped.

 

The lift doors opened, and Yuun moved out silently, leaving the corpses where they were. He moved down the hall and came to an intersection. His eyes widened as he saw the Major, Captain Jorgan, and others ducking behind the wall and firing around the corner at enforcers.

 

"Yuun!" Prudii said. "Get down!"

 

Yuun rolled aside and planted himself behind Zenith. He nodded to the Twi'lek. The two had spoken before, when Prudii had been in meetings with the Jedi and their allies, and Yuun had learned to respect Zenith as a warrior.

 

"Sir!" Elara called.

 

She and the rest of the squad came running up from behind. Yuun sighed in relief. They were all here.

 

"Go," Prudii said. "The hangar's right through there; we'll cover you."

 

Elara nodded. "Come on."

 

She went first, and then Vik, Zenith, the Imperial, Guss, and the human. Yuun pulled out his blaster, fired around the corner once, and then charged after them. Forex came behind him, and then HK-51. Jorgan followed lastly, and Prudii stayed behind, firing.

 

"Sir!" Elara called. "Come on!"

 

Prudii nodded and sprinted toward the hangar–and a force field came up. Yuun leapt forward and slammed his hand into the controls, but it was in vain. They'd locked it down. Elara rushed to the field and rammed her fists against it.

 

"Sir!" she cried. "Major!"

 

"Come on, Major, blast the controls!" Jorgan growled.

 

Prudii shook his head. "This buys you time," he said sadly. "Take care of the squad, Jorgan. Go!"

 

"Sir, the bombs!" Elara called, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You can't stay, Prudii. Please."

 

"Go," Prudii said, choking.

 

Yuun put a comforting hand on Elara's shoulder. She didn't shrug it off, but she hung her head.

 

"You don't have much time," Prudii said. "Go!"

 

Then he opened fire on enforcers coming around the corner.

 

"All right," Jorgan said. "Let's mount up. His sacrifice can't be in vain."

 

* * *

 

Prudii fired his blaster on full auto. The enemies fell in droves. He held his blaster in his right hand, steadying it, and whipped out his pistol in his left hand, firing with both. But he couldn't hold out forever. A blaster bolt grazed his side, and he grunted in pain. Dropping to his knees, he kept firing. His rifle clicked empty, and he hurled it away, continuing to fire with his pistol.

 

Another shot caught him in the gut, and he slammed back into the force field. He spared a glance behind him, and sighed in relief when he saw that the Thunderclap had already taken off and was away. He threw off his helmet and charged. His pistol fired at point-blank range, killing an enforcer. Then he turned and rammed his gauntlet blade into the throat of another. He whirled and shot again, taking down a Weequay just turning the corner.

 

About ten seconds until Vik's bomb detonates, he thought. That's all I have to last.

 

He punched an enforcer in the chin, picked up his rifle, and fired a stream of bolts down the hall. A shot caught him in the shoulder and he spun around. As he did, three more shots caught his back. He exhaled in pain, fell to the ground, and gasped.

 

Five seconds, he thought.

 

The enforcers came up behind him, pointing their blasters down at his head. He knew they'd execute him, but he also knew they'd never have the pleasure. Because by the time they'd closed to firing range, there was one second left. By the time they had their fingers on the trigger, there was no time.

 

A wave of heat washed across Prudii, and he let it take him into a restfulness during which he felt no pain.

 

End of Part 1

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