Corellia

[Ary the Grey]

((NPC))

 

Rhett felt safe here.

 

It wasn't the fifteen or so armed guards that patrolled the complex, or the three large security droids, two in the front of the large house, and one on top guarding the landing pad with his ship, it was more or less that he knew here he had the judges on his payroll, and that b**** of an ex-wife of his couldn't do a d*** thing to him.

 

The house itself was spacious and luxurious, but also designed to be readily defended, adequately prepared with choke points that seemed to blend into the design of the house, and a safe room in the basement. There were microcams nearly everywhere as well (except the Master bedroom on the second floor, of course), watching and recording everything and sending it back to the security center, also in the basement level. Were there gaps in the system? Probably. Did it matter? Probably not. It'd take a serious professional or a small army to get at him.

 

Finally, things were starting to look up for Rhett.

 

 

 

Or so he thought.

[Vothe Kyrik]

The Price of Progress appeared from hyperspace over Corellia and immediately began its descent toward Kor Vella, a city that was a fairly common tourist site on the famous planet. It was a city of rustic charm, economically prosperous but devoid of the skyscrapers that characterized such cities as Coronet. He commed in for landing permission, posing as a visitor from Coruscant looking to get away for a few weeks on an extended vacation. No one asked any questions--Vothe Kyrik never gave anyone reason to.

 

Once he had landed he packed up a few of his critical belongings, the kind of things he was going to need for an operation of this level. Most of these things were illegal--computer spikes, anti-security devices, lock-slicing toolkits, certain weapons--and others were not illegal at all, such as disguises and datacards. He loaded all of this into a bag he could carry on his person, then disembarked.

 

There was a security checkpoint, of course. He went ahead and put his bag on the scanner, then focused on the operator's mind. "Everything checks out," he projected telepathically.

 

"Everything checks out," the man said. "Have a nice stay!"

 

Vothe took his bag and headed into town, but quickly turned aside and headed for the public transport station. There were still a few hours hours of transit time ahead of him using these slow systems, but he had several left before he was meant to meet up with Desh.

[Fynn Relmis]

Hundreds of kilometers from Correllia’s capital city of Coronet, the Estate of Relmis stood in stark relief from the undeveloped countryside. It’s stood on the edge of a The large compound, consisting of the main house, the outer courtyard, and various guests villas sprawled for almost half a kilometer, hailing from the period before the rise of the constitutional democracy. It’s main slate gray building cast a long a shadow that fell onto the surrounding landscape.

 

It’s various gardens and hedgerows hid it’s underground facilities and storage areas. Underground however, an ancient network of tunnels and caverns carved by an subterranean river served as a refuge from the prying eyes of those on the surface. Here the House of Relmis stored it’s treasures and it’s long history, along with relics of a bygone age. The vast gardens held various statues of hero’s and characters, but none so grand as a statue of Halin Relmis, the first Relmis and the founder of the house. It had long since turned a reddish orange color, as it’s metal’s degraded in the morning mists. He had preformed some great deed, and in so doing ensured that his family name remained on honored lists long since his demise, and unlike others whose lands were seized at the end of the monarchy, he had maintained his property, leading to wild speculation as to what means he used to keep his precious lands.

 

Garm had inherited these lands, but spurned them, as part of his joining the Jedi. Fynn when he lived, had done the same. Kern however, saw them for what they were, a useful tool to be harnessed to it's full effect. This was to be no outpost however, not hostile bastion. He was not about to cause provocation to the Jedi and Corsec. Under the stewardship of the Zabrakian VenBraan, the Relmis Estate continued to function as if its owners, had never left. A small cadre of human guards were retained to keep a watchful eye on the property, gardeners and housekeepers continued as they had for almost three centuries. Life in the small township below the estate was much the same as it had been, with nerf herders doing the same work their fathers and their father’s father’s had preformed.

 

Yet the somewhat dormant estate had buzzed with a new energy in the last few months. It’s last inheritor, Kern Relmis, had announced his intended return, and so the old place was being made new again. The ordered improvements were not only new sensors and security measures, but personal training facilities, additional staff, underground research stations, and dozens of top of the line security droids. Power generators were located deepest of all, originating from a geothermal fissure that supplied a constant source of heat and subsequent power.

 

Largest in the renovations was a small clandestine hangar, which jutted out of a nearby cliff face. It had been in the family since before the galactic civil war and was now being retrofitted. Financially a new trading company had been founded, Relm Transports Ltd, in order to expand the House of Relmis already lucrative portfolio. It’s symbol was a modification of the hold seal, a crescent moon being stabbed by five daggers. Some thought the symbol represented the five brothers, others the five sons and daughters of the Halin Relmis. Whatever the case, the combined assets of the House totaled in the millions, but were mostly channeled through various subsidiaries, off world accounts, tourist properties, and other less reputable interests.

 

VenBraan had accomplished what Kern had laid out for him, and now readied the house for the return of its one true master.

[Fynn Relmis]

The 'Aegis' arrived in Corellian Space with little ceremony. The Gunship bore markings of the newly formed Relm Transport Company, and as such it was seen by the authorities as what it was, a merchant vessel recently purchases and christened by the new company. He meant to further the companies holdings, as one gunship and a couple of transports didn't really pose much in the way of threat to anyone, let alone economically. He needed power, not only in the force, but other avenues as well.

 

On it's small bridge Kern Relmis waited patiently as the pilots got clearance, and created an approach vector. His Keshiri guards, their unique mixture of tribal armor and modern finery marked them as truly different stood stunned vigil behind him, quietly observing the specter of another planer below them. Kern wondered if their uncultured minds fully comprehended understood that they would soon stand on a different world. Their vaguely humanoid shape pale green and white skin was hardly visible underneath the layers of protection. His own out fit had been modified, a dark tabbard reminiscent of the jedi he had once been, but profaned by an opulent caplet with pin of the House of Relmis. Given to him by the ships captain, it was a relic of one of his ancestors, and Kern found it both fitting and comfortable.

 

Soon the planet atmosphere was pierced and the ship approached the Relmis estate from the direction of the setting sun. The small revitalized hangar was just large enough for several small shuttles, and the Gunship landed on an exterior landing space which had been cleared, leveled and equipped with a fueling station and manned by several armed estate guards. There at the landing platform, Venbraan awaited him with all employees, indentured servants, and guards. All told their were at least sixty figures lined up in perfect rows. The gunship set down swiftly and as gouts of steam and coolant blasted from landing struts. The landing ramp lowered and out marched the rows of Keshiri guards. They were followed by Kern himself who stopped at the bottom of the ramp, looked left and then right and continued forward.

 

"Welcome Home Baron Kern. The House of Relmis has been eager for your return." Venbraan said as he bowed his head to the master of the old estate.

 

Kern regarded him a nod and continued to study the faces of his those under his employ.

 

"IF you will follow me, we will head to the main house, where you and your… personal guard can rest. I'm sure it's been a long journey."

 

"Are the preparations complete? I don't like to be disappointed." Kern said in a vaguely humorous tone. He studied the orderly rows of household employees. They all kept there eyes forward, never showing a single emotion. It was an interesting display. But Kern knew better, through the force he could feel the various emotions of those present. Excitement, fear, trepidation, feelings of inadequacy and doubt. All were on full display. He supposed Master Skye's teaching of how to read emotions weren't completely without use after all… the thought of using such methods to dark ends filled his mind with all sorts of possibilities...

 

"Of course sir. I will give you a complete rundown of the improvements. However I assure you, all has been done to your exacting specifications." Venbraan said as he turned and led Kern to a small lift awaiting to wisk them away to the awaiting estate.

 

Venbraan did indeed give a complete accounting of the grand home, and it was quite a residence. The front gate had the Relmis family crest prominently emblazoned in a metal frame over it. The crescent moon with five daggers piercing it was reminiscent of the Relm Transport logo, and Kern had to admit that the whole place looked as if it had been gone over with a magnifying glass.

 

"There are 7 main rooms, and 12 guest rooms, a large banquet hall, and 2 large pools, both heated and not, fresh and salt depending on your preference. 3 main gardens with several hedgerow mazes and physical training areas. The underground complexes layout and specifications have been kept secret on your request, with 4 different contractors used, so that not one would have knowledge of the others plans. Guard droids and security systems have been added and various other locks genetically based and otherwise have been added. The facilities below are secure, and extra guards have been also added to sensitive areas per your instructions. A special scanner for force crystal based power sources has also been included." The last bit was a simple but efficient way to recognize any Jedi or other individuals wielding a lightsaber.

 

"Well done. I see you've even repainted the main gate. Excellent." Kern noted as he was genuinely impressed, all was as the man said. Kern could now see why the man was his fathers most competent advisor. The grounds were immaculate, and as the lift approached the statue of his families ancestor Halin. He could hear his new guards gasp quiety at the size of the home. The main door was a large 16 foot durasteel door, with a subtle inlay of silver. The lift stopped, and Kern stepped off, his guards did as well, but stopped to stare at the villa's impressive size.

 

"Shall I assign your guard quarters in the guard house or somewhere closer?" Venbraan asked the Zebraakian with a patient gaze at them

 

"The guard house will do, the least I can provide is accommodations for my new 'friends'. See that they have what they need." Kern said as he looked up at the large door. The servants arrived behind him, and began to fan out to their various responsibilities. All had work that awaited them, as did Kern.

 

The interior was as majestic and maintained as the exterior. Shimmering tile floors, massive interior rooms with relics and art from across the galaxy. Alderaan fresco's, Naboonian statues, Verllian spheres, and even Keldarian Furs. It was an opulent display of the families wealth and influence, and it made Kern chuckle at the abject poverty of his previous way of life. No… that was not living.

 

After entering the study, he dismissed his guards except for one. The study was a large room with padded couches a large central meeting table and large desk. The large windows were ray shielded and provided a amazing view of the large body of water behind the property. Venbraan promised to return with refreshments, and Kern was left alone with Mruka, a tall strong female Keshiri with pale green skin, black obsidian eyes with wide pupils and the straightforward viciousness of a born killer. He liked her immediately when he asked her to join by killing a weaker fellow recruit. She had done so before he could finish saying the word kill. She had deep issues clearly, but she was obedient to a fault. The others were well trained killers, but she was different.

 

"What do you think?"

 

"I don't understand."

 

"What do you think of my home. Are you enjoying it?"

 

"It is… large. Do all people here live like this?"

 

"No. But they all wish they could." Kern said as he sat down at the with dozens of computer screens. Information about the various events on Corellia, its neighboring systems, and galactic affairs flashed past.

 

"Why…"

 

"Why? Why what...my dear you must learn to speak up."

 

"Why...did you bring us here?"

 

"I have many reasons, but truthfully, I like being around killers. Especially ones who do it so well. It reminds me of my childhood. Just knowing that at any moment I may have defend my life with the full range of weapons and force powers available to me makes me feel more alive that any point in my short existence. Don't worry Mruka I have a feeling you'll have a chance to stretch your muscles soon. I built this place to do more then simply hide the treasures of the House Relmis, there is much more below the surface of this little villa. I have a lot of planning to do."

 

Venbraan knocked and entered after being looked over by Mruka.

 

"Sir, your guards are settled. I was wondering…"

"You want to host a banquet for my return."

"Indeed, the neighboring houses will want to know who the new master of the house is, and to not host an event would be… suspicious."

"You are right of course. I assume you already have entertainment and food planned."

 

"Of course sir I will see too every detail. A public notice will be posted for any who wish to attend."

 

"Very well. Invite the best and brightest. I want my home to be filled interesting people… and Venbraan?"

 

"Sir?"

"Make sure there are plenty of eligible women. I am in need of a wife after all. Now both of you… leave. I have many things to catch up on." He said dismissing them and place his hands together in a contemplative motion.

 

With that he set behind the desk and began to poor through data. Looking for any news of Furion, the affairs of Corsec, Jedi, and Sith. He planned on being aware, and being informed.

 

----

 

A few minutes into his research a face flicked up on his screen. It was from a report in the news on a recent negotiation with the jedi. One name and title caught his attention.

 

"Grand… grandmaster…" Kern said aloud in derision. He said the name again and again, and somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he hoped that the force would send the man a small tingle down his spine, as if someone was walking on his grave. He knew it would never get that far, but still...it was the thought that counted.

Edited December 28, 2016 by Guest

[Fynn Relmis]

A large blade sliced through the air, narrowly missing Kern's face as he ducked aside deftly, and used the force to rediret the the trajectory of the throwing knife. If thudded into an amorered bust next to him, nearly decapitating the model. Kern turned back to his chief body guard. She stood dripping in sweat, her armor half off, and several scars on her upper torso. She charged him with her yellow training saber, using her limited abilities to attack him with several accurate if ill-timed blows. He used his own crimson colored blade to meet each thrust, and turn each back with ease. He enjoyed this, seeing an opponent struggle for their life. Yet, the combat lacked an urgency he knew that came with a certain life or death struggle.

 

"Faster..." He said as he added a twirl with his newly developed Vapaad style. He kept each strike contained, and found that now with the abandonment of the light, he could focus more power into each retort. Mruka struggled to do as he asked. She used her feeble training to try to prolong the conflict, but she was no match for Kern's superior blade skills, and it showed. He batted away her final strike, kicking her backwards with and application of a well place kick to her midsection. As she slid on the training room floor, the other guards pounced, seeing an opening. The came forward with their practice sabers, hacking and slashing not unlike fresh inexperienced padawan's.

 

In a matter of seconds Kern defeated each of them, sending them to the turf semiconscious, or flying backwards in a different direction. Umalok the largest of his guards took it the hardest, as an elbow broke his rib, and Kern drank in his pain as he flung him into a nearby column.

 

He turned back to the others and was dismayed to see them back off. They were tired, their fighting spirits diminished by their repeated failure.

 

"Well... come on." They stood on the training floor deep underneath the Relmis Compound. The room had been built to exacting specifications, and the complex was outfitted with the latest training equipment. His visions of a coming conflict had only increased. He didn't doubt them, but now with the strange holonet message, and the confusion of Corsec and the Jedi to what was happening, he knew it was only a manner of time until they became true. But there was a problem. He wasn't ready. Furion had taught him little, and what he knew of the Darkside came from his instinctual hatred and anger, his powers were limited not only by lack of a master, but by the lack of quality opponents.

 

"Baron Kern...we cannot-" The young man's breath was stopped in his throat. Kern lifted him by his neck into the air. He struggled as his neck was nearly snapped, but at the last second, Kern relinquished.

 

"I am not your benefactor... You do not deny me. The next time I hear 'cannot' or 'unable' I will not be forgiving. I am training you to face jedi, sith, or whoever else would seek to injure me or Lord Furion. You must be ruthless, unyielding, where is the fire I saw on Kesh, or have you become weakling pups waiting to die?" Kern said as he dropped the young man on the floor and shut off his light-saber.

 

"Get some rest. And resume your training in the morning." Kern said as he turned aside and left the training floor. Venbraan approached as the doors to the grand lifts slid opened.

 

"Sir... the vessel is ready. It is a pity that the party must be postponed."

 

"A great pity indeed, but it cannot be helped. Have Mruka join me on the Aegis. We shall leave immediately."

 

"Umbara sir... I took the liberty of packing your things in case you wanted to leave quickly. The coordinates provided by Morrigal have been already programmed."

 

"Very good." He said succinctly as he placed a shirt on, and exited the lift. Entering a changing room, he stared deeply into a mirror studying the effects of the Darkside on his visage. His face had slowly been losing the color, and now veins were more clearly visible on his face. Where Morrigal had stitched together his face, the resultant tissue had become gray, and less sensitive the touch. He made a fist with the force, drawing as much on the darkside as possible and then released it. The mirror cracked and Kern cursed himself. He needed more power, and it was slow in coming.

 

He needed a stronger opponent. Someone who would could possibly kill him on equal footing. It was the only way he could test himself and his new reliance on the darkside. Umbara had been where Furion had been heading once, and with any luck, he would find others there who could test his newly formed mettle. He might even find Lord Furion, or at least a clue of what his master had been planning.

 

----

 

A short time later the Aegis lifted off the planet surface. Kern sat in the captains chair, with Mruka in her dark Keshiri armor. He turned his mind to her for a moment. He felt her fear, and her dismay at his disappointment from the display earlier. He chose to let her failure sink in, perhaps in future it would motivate her.

 

The ship entered hyperspace, bound for a new obstacle.

[Fynn Relmis]

The Aegis approached Corellia and the outskirts of its capital city Coronet. There the large Relmis estate loomed large over the landscape. Its staff, busily preparing for the arrival of the estates owner, stopped momentarily to witness the crafts return. The craft set down in the small hangar overlooking the estate, and within moments Kern and his guards exited, using a small lift transport to complete the journey. Kern’s dark caplet blew in the breeze, and the insignia brooch on his shoulder was both his family crest, and the mark of his status. The bronze symbol glinted with the afternoon sun.

 

The Keshiri guards left him for their quarters, all except for M’ruka, who desired to accompany him until he no longer wished her presence. The bodies he had procured on Coruscant were taken into the lab, preserved in their containers, and in the exact condition of their demise. Kern scanned their bodies using every tool at his disposal, peering into their state to the last detail.

-------

 

Minutes, and then hours passed, as Kern went from one body to the next. M’ruka fell fast asleep, curled into a fetal ball on a small divan in the facilities observation deck. Kern let her be and continued on alone, delving into all the research he had procured on his travels.

 

He began his experiments in earnest, shocking the bodies with electrical and magnetic pulses, and examining the results. Furion’s and Lallu’s manipulation of the very life energy of the subjects fascinated him. He began reworking the pathways of the force, channeling it through the various subjects. He watched as eyes and mouths opened in some crude imitation of life, and the curious flickering of life signs that resulted. These attempts were feeble to be sure, but lacking a true master of the darkside, Kern forged on in the dark, boldly exploring where the call of the darkside led.

 

He imagined thousands of these reanimated beings following his orders, marching in unison, un-feeling, unyielding soldiers, imposing his will on some unsuspecting world. But in order to be effective, he would need billions of them, in order to effect change on a galactic scale. Such an effort would take decades, possibly centuries, in disgust he shoved the scanner on the table away from himself, and left the chamber. The medical droids cleaned up the remains as he washed up. He wandered to his bed chamber, and after entertaining himself with M’ruka’s affections he fell fast asleep.

-----

 

“Power is intoxicating, is it not?” The voice seemed to split his head open with it’s power.

 

The voice was familiar, yet not. The form was cloaked in black, with reddened eyes that seemed to pierce Kern’s very soul.

 

“Kern… you sniveling meatbag, trying to follow my footsteps are you?” The eyes of the

 

“Lord Kakuto,” Kern said as he knelt on an obsidian floor and kept his eyes from the figure of the former dark lord.

 

“Am I… dreaming?”

 

“Yes… amazing isn’t it. I don’t exist anymore, and yet here, in your mind, my power is greater then ever.”

“The darkside is indeed powerful. I know that now.” Kern said as he turned his head aside.

 

“And so… you finally accepted my words?” Ryu said with his arms crossed,behind him in an unbroken chain were darklords and masters that Kern’s former self had witnessed and others that he did not recognize. They formed a long ‘V’ a looking down at him from their various thrones. Ryu was front and center, to his right sat Exodus, to his left a man whose face was unfamiliar. John Skywalker was there, Furion, and Lallu as well. Darla sat at the Dark Lord’s feet, and others as well.

“Yes, but I lack a true master to-“

 

“Master? Ha… do not imagine that you are worthy of a master. You’re still a pretender, playing at the darkside like a foolish child. How sad the galaxy must be if the darkside would turn to the likes of you.” Ryu’s cloaked form said laughingly.

 

“Children grow, and I will not be weak forever, everyday my connection with the darkside grows.” Kern said in a determined and angry voice.

 

“Perhaps, You have come a long way from the stubborn knight who tried to hold back the forces of the Sith on Coruscant. But perhaps your power doesn't grow fast enough?” Said Ryu who looked to his left.

 

Finally Kern recognized the face from a holovid… Faust…Vladimir Faust. Suddenly a large spear pierced him through his heart, and he was raised into the air in agony.

 

"No worries, Kern. Death is inevitable..." Said Darla mockingly from her position below Ryu.

---------

 

Kern awoke with a start.

 

He was covered in sweat, and M’ruka’s form. He shoved her aside and slid to the bed’s edge. He took his hand and rubbed the wound on his left arm. Was it a vision? A lie?

 

After dressing he returned to his lab, but this time he entered a different chamber. Here he carefully opened the container with the large crystal that his former self had found on Hoth. To his shock the crystal had changed somehow, it was now a dark crimson, and it glowed with a haunting reddish hue. As he manipulated the force around it, he found new facets of it that he had missed previously. The darkside now rippled forth from the gem like waves emanating from a distant shore. It was as if the crystal was resonating with a source of darkness located light years away.

 

This was itself fascinating. He had always theorized that the force was not bound by time and space, that the distant points of light weren’t distant at all, but rather were instantaneously communicating through the force itself. The question…who was doing the manipulating? And to what end?

 

He sat next to the crystal, contemplating its connection with his hands pointed into a narrow arch, his fingertips touching each other. When he closed his eyes, he saw hatred itself, carnage on an unimaginable scale. The idea of such wanton destruction fascinated him, but still masked the true purpose of the disturbance.

Edited December 15, 2013 by Guest

[Vladimir Faust]

Landing in Coronet proper, Faust completed his comm to Silas. Even as he moved, he set up his next plan of attack. Corellia would be a viable strike, one accelerated since his discovery by the unknown Jedi on Dantooine, but also possibly one that could be delayed if he was able to play his cards right.

 

Altering his garb appropriately to give him security for the gambit, Faust's troop, assembled from other ships docking within the city met up. Two dozen all together, all save Faust unware of what happened on Dantooine to the last servitors of the former Dark Lord. Faust, in the midst of a troupe of four dressed in the concealing helms and robes of white robed royal guards, and a solitary figure in a face concealing white cloak and cowl head to the Corellian Stock Exchange.

 

Using credentials for a "Baron Lews Cypher", a past alias to gain a measure of legitimacy on Corellia (and access to a high placed Corellian diplomat who gained a bounty Faust ultimately collected on), Faust gains access to a private room overlooking the Corellian Stock Exchanges floor. The four guardsmen circle carefully around the white cloaked figure identified as the Baron, waiting. Faust purposely emanates a Dark side aura, picking up on the faint sensation of another Darksider near-by. All the better, Faust concluded.

 

He would give the mystery Jedi time to show up and act. Depending on how things followed his script, this would be a day where the markets ended very much in the red...

[Fynn Relmis]

There it was again...

 

Kern stopped his training regimen just he was about to nearly decapitate one of his sparring partners. The Keshiri guard's reprieve was unexpected, but before he could riposte, Kern flicked him aside with the force.

 

M'ruka approached seeing the concern on Kern's face. She said nothing, but it was apparent to him that she had grown accustomed to the his whim's.

 

"Someone is here, or at least nearby. A power greater then my own, stronger then almost anything I've felt previously. Save..." A moment passed and a smile came to Kern's face. A user of the darkside was near, and wished him to know it. A surge of notions came to his mind. The signature was much the same as the one he had felt at a great distance days ago on Courscant. The master mind of such a far reach plot would have to be extremely powerful, and also devious beyond all...

 

The face in his vision, the reaction of the Crystal...

 

"Faust." Kern said it aloud as if it were both a curse and a shock. It could be no one else. Kern remembered that his previous life was highlighted with the frequent fear of the name Vladmir Faust. That was what his vision had meant, Faust was not only alive, but actively working... but to what end was entirely uncertain. It mattered little, this turn of events could not be ignored, fate or chance, Kern saw an opportunity for power, and he would be damned before he let it slip away.

 

---------

 

The following minutes passed to slowly for Kern's taste, he had dressed, and not just as royalty, he had know idea what might await him were he to find Faust. The man might as soon attempt to kill him, as to look at him. However Kern was without a master, and his desire for destruction and mayhem could not be satiated by waiting in some quiet villa far away. Faust must have desired his presence, as a master of the darkside it would have been easy for him to mask his presence. If Faust remained, Kern would seek him out. He had prepared for any contingency, armed with his modified lightsabers, and dressed in dark baron robes, over polished sith Armor.

 

M'ruka was left behind to guard the Estate, along with it's regular contingent of guards, and now backed by dozens of Keshiri recruits fresh from the sith soldier academy on Kesh.

 

Accompanied by several guards in unobtrusive armor, Baron Kern made his way to the Corellian Stock Exchanges, looking up at the large building, he paused, listening to the bustling crowd below it's heights. Then using the force, he stripped away the layers of interference, seeing through the darkside emanating from a private suite. It could be no one else. It was glorious, like black hole darkening the whole area. His credentials were unquestioned, House Relmis was becoming a fixture in Coronet's Business circles. Soon enough he found himself at the door his instincts led him to. He ordered the eight guards to take positions at either end of the hall. Then Kern knocked gently, wondering just what the response to a polite knock would be from a mastermind such as Faust.

[Ary the Grey]

The Blur rocketed out of hyperspace, entering a geostationary orbit far above Coronet city after being cleared to do so by local space traffic control. After confirmation that his package had arrived and was waiting for him deeper in space in system, he began his descent, landing in the slums area, the most likely spot, he figured, for a Sith to be lurking and plotting. Arming himself appropriately, he left his ship, seeking out the darkness he felt in the area. It wouldn't be simple, as the Dark side was thick in the city and it tended to cloud the senses, even to someone familiar with its methods. But...at least the intel was solid. There was someone here. It was high time the Gray Master had some fun.

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust and his four guards waited in their private room overlooking the trading floor of the Corellian Stock Exchange. The four men in white robed versions of the royal guards Palpatine used hovered around the white cloaked and cowl wearing figure in their midst, save for one in a helmeted guard uniform that stood back from the rest, cautiously surveying both the room and the window overlooking the trading floor from a corner, hands clutched loosely on the force pike he carried.

 

Faust's senses feel a tug from the other Dark sider in the area as he approached. Faust knew he was coming and decided to hear him out. Another player in the game would make this round's exchange interesting. As the waiting continued, the Hunter felt the familiar tug in the distance of an old presence.

 

Aryian...

 

Faust was unsure if Aryian was truly the Jedi that felt him out on Dantooine. He did not think so, it didn't feel right. Still, it might provide some clue, and a hint if his misdirection ploy worked. A call quickly goes out that "Baron Lews Cypher" was expecting the arrival of company and that they were to be shown into his private observation box. Aryian's description was given out with directions he be treated with the utmost courtesy and respect.

 

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. The three guard turn towards it, looking alert, but the fourth in the corner, and of course, the white cloaked figure in their midst, remained motionless.

 

The "Baron Cypher" calls out, "Come and enter my friend. I have been expecting you."

[Fynn Relmis]

Kern entered the large suite, trodding carefully forward. The darkside was powerful here, not unlike Merkava. He kept a respectful distance and knelt before speaking.

 

"Lord Faust. I am Baron Kern Relmis, a slave of the darkside, and a former acolyte of Lord Furion. I have come seeking your malevolent guidance. My resources, meager as they may be in comparison, are at your disposal." Kern said as he handed a small digital padd of his extensive real estate holdings on Correllia, and the secret facility on Kesh, to one of Faust's guards to give to the dark lord. He knelt in the direction of the white cloaked figure, unable to determine if it was indeed Faust or an illusion. 'Another ability that I must learn.' He thought to himself before he continued. He doubted Faust would know him, or his previous life as a worthless Jedi. He looked very different now, his hair was cut low, his skin had lightened, and the permanent stitching that held the laceration cut above his right eye together, gave him an appearance of a much older man. That combined with the dark robes and royal insignia, wouldn't be remotely reminiscent of the low living recluse he had been in his previous guise.

 

He felt the arrival of another powerful force user, but one whose power was not of the dark. He decided that he would need to speak quickly, it was not unheard of for jedi to show up when they were least desired.

 

"The tales of your power and ability to inflict carnage are infamous, and I too wish bloody destruction upon the Jedi, and the worthless denizens of this galaxy. I ask only to serve you in the furtherance of your goals. I am yours to command if you but wish it." Kern said without conditions. He desired power, above all else, by serving Faust, he reasoned that he would inevitably gain knowledge that was still beyond him. He would learn all he could, and have the chance to inflict chaos in the process, Faust would gain a powerful foot soldier, the legitimacy of Kern's title, and an ally against the Jedi. It was a fine proposal, the question was, how would the entirely unpredictable predator known as Faust react?

 

-----

 

M'ruka waited to board a small transport, unmarked and registered as a trader out of Nar Shadaa. She ushering the dozens of Keshiri guards forward, as their assigned leader. Her slender form was dressed as them, a black mottle of armor and traditional Keshiri garb. The mixed Sith armor of the soldiers clanked a bit as they marched up the ramp in perfect unison. They had had the benefit of months of marshal training at the direct hands of Kern, and in advanced facilities, and it showed. These were no green, mindless fodder. They were aggressive, resourceful, and armed with the finest non-jedi weapons Kern's fortune could afford. Their allegiance was without question, buying into the ideology of Kern as the emissary to their new unnamed god. They fit perfectly with Kern's philosophy that a well trained force could over come much larger numbers with the proper incentive, aggressive regimen, and religious fervor.

 

Venbraan, the Relmis' Estate caretaker approached in his usual stoic style at the ships side.

 

"Ma'am?" Venbraan asked.

 

"Orders from Kern. He anticipates having to leave quickly, so we are to have the Aegis ready to leave and in Orbit. We're to transfer all projects to the palace on Kesh." M'ruka's green flesh changed colors slightly indicating her disturbed nature.

 

"Of course Ma'am. I'll have the projects transported anonymously, including the cloning facility. The staff will assure all is in readiness upon the masters return." He replied, bowed slightly, then moved back to his duty.

 

The Aegis powered it's engines, and climbed into the atmosphere. After a few moments, the ship leveled off in a low orbit, ready for a speedy departure if needed.

[Vladimir Faust]

The man in the white guardsman outfit in the corner approaches the fledgling Sith and takes the datapad. He overlooks it carefully, then hands it over to the white cloaked figure, who despite Kern's misgivings, was indeed flesh and blood. The datapad is looked over by the guardsman who hands it to the nominal Baron Cypher. The guardsman stared intently at the white cloaked figure the whole time, head tilted as if communicating on a different level. Indeed, the faint buzz of the Dark side, while already thick like a miasma in the room hinted at the telepathic conversation that played out. The white cloaked head bows, not acknowledging Kern, the hidden face staring intently at the trading floor below from his seat.

 

The guardsman takes the datapad back and gives it back to Kern. "The Master finds your resources intriguing." The voice behind that helmet is hollow, reverberating. "As was your adeptness in identifying him," he continues. "Lord Faust however, finds your identification with the Dark Side of the Force disheartening. A true Sith is no one's slave. He seizes power, be it from men, star systems, or the Force itself. The struggle is constant. Surely your master taught you better."

 

There is a low, deep chuckle from the hooded figure at that- mocking, challenging, its inflections a perfect tell of Faust's personality.

 

"Destruction will come, and ultimately the Jedi will destroy themselves as they always do," the hollow voice behind the helm continues. "The Master has decided to give you a role to play in accelerating this event. He will reshape the galaxy. We are going to receive a guest, a former Jedi foe of the Master. We will receive him with the utmost courtesy and respect. Restraint will be your first lesson, to know when to strike, and to know when to watch, and wait."

 

The last sentence spoken, the helmed man returns to the corner, as on guard and alert as ever. The man he identified as his master graciously lifts his gloved right hand and points to an empty seat next to him. As if on cue, another serving man enters, one of Faust's retainers, and pours two glasses of a red bloodwine. The master raises it into the air. "A toast," he states softly, his voice coming from the artificial darkness under his hood, "to our new partnership."

[ObliviousKnight]

The Switchblade appeared out of hyperspace on the edge of the Coruscant-Corellia shipping lane. Its pilot, Armiena Draygo, got on comms and hailed Corellia airspace control and established contact with the local authorities as per trade regulation. Coronet Control assigned her vessel, which was currently taking upon the sensor signature and emission spectrum of a Barloz-class freighter, to a landing vector to a landing bay near a biomedical research institution.

 

The Alderaanian pilot let out a sigh of exasperation when the conversation was concluded. The clearance code that she used identified her cargo as a shipment of research isotopes and would give her ship a wide clearance while she made her approach… at least until the situation hit the fan and she broke out of her landing vector.

 

However, the Switchblade’s sensors had picked up the Blur in Corellia’s atmosphere just as Aryian’s ship was landing. Somehow, her ex-husband had gotten here before she had, despite having left after her. Clearly something had gone awry with that souped-up hyperdrive that Correlli had touted when she was buying the Switchblade… another problem that was going to take days of filthy work to correct. Assuming, of course, that the Switchblade was still spaceworthy by the end of this mission…

 

Armiena continued to grumble as Corellia grew larger in the canopy and she worked to still the ripples of the Force around her. Her nervousness was doing nothing to help. Clenching her teeth behind the gel mask that was sealed over her mouth, the ace pilot began running through the weapons diagnostics for a third time. Waiting was not something that she did particularly well.

 

“Stupid, stupid. Should have planted a tracer on him. Or a bug. Anything.” She bit short a curse. “Come on, Aryian…”

[Azhani]

Fire, yelps, and screams of terror filled her ears as the Cathar stirred from her unconscious state. She reached a heavy paw from its resting place at her right, and used a stubborn claw to test her right brow. The fur above her right eye was still matted where she was bludgeoned with the butt of something small and metal, but the damage wasn’t severe. She could feel pangs of the force it took to render her unconscious, but the blood was dry around the impact and although it was tender, she could feel no real damage. Then again, she wasn’t a doctor, she was a warrior, so she figured it was okay to be cautious. Her vision swam before her in glimpses of tangled misery and disaster. She started reliving the feelings buried in her eyes, ears, muscles, and nose, before the flashbacks hit her with surreal effect.

 

She was there, fighting alongside her pack, and tearing the hooded man asunder, but his rage was imperturbable. The boundless aggression that peered through his red eyes was unbearable. Cubs fled the village indiscriminately and full grown Cathar that weren’t reacting in force, were moving to evacuate the village. But beyond all of that, all she could see was blackness. One minute she was on her feet, ready to defend her village – her people – and the next, she was alone in the dark. Her head was swimming and tremors rocked her body like a distant echo. She could feel her arms and legs moving and she could feel the comfortable presence of her family all around her, but now all she felt was… Emptiness…

 

Where the Hydian way met the Corellian run, her senses caught up to her. She had little on her mind other than the rage that she felt at her failure and hasty departure. Questions like, what had happened to her family, seemed like luxuries when vivid pictures of dead Akethi rose to her eyes like mold growing on old stale bread. The image of that terrible hooded man tearing apart the cubs she loved and guarded so much; the fires that billowed over the rooftops and consumed the buildings. She ground her teeth together in impotent fury. And that pointless pent up anger echoed off of the cargo ship’s walls with little effect. It didn’t fill the hole that stood gaping and wide deep inside of her.

 

She moved her head into the crook of her elbow and cradled it there for a few moments. She pat at the wound above her right eye – “OUCH!”

 

The Cathar roared once more and her cry of pain struck the walls with a rough, but muted cacophony. She winced after tending it again and after a few moments, felt it was best to just let it stay there. It wouldn’t do her any good bellowing into a ship that she presumably didn’t belong in.

 

Speaking of, a few minutes later, the Cathar’s pointed ear perked up. She could hear shambling in the next room adjacent to hers. She didn’t quite know why they were shambling about; trying to sneak, but she had two very good guesses. Thinking quickly, Azhani took a deep breath and let her mind expand, like she did on all of her hunts. Her hearing magnified exponentially and so did all her other senses. She looked past all of the air units, all of the bugs, all of the humming that padded against her eardrums and heard that the man – she assumed he was a man, because he wasn’t very graceful and he was large – was approaching her cabin with a semi fast gait. His steps had the heavy stride that armor provided and although his clumsiness was pretty obvious, Azhani guessed that he was armed.

 

The Cathar raised herself to her full height and stood over the door, waiting to pounce. It was the only thing she could do to distract herself from everything else. When the door crashed open and the woman, oddly enough, crashed inside, there was a pause. The woman was heavy set, similar to Azhani except what Azhani had in muscle this human had in fat. She held a carbine in her hands with a pair of white knuckled grips and her eyelids were peeled back in abject, but misplaced terror. Azhani sighed silently and dropped toward the woman with ease, grabbing and picking her up in one hand – regrettably - while disarming her with another. She looked the poor struggling woman in the eyes and dropped the weapon to the floor. It discharged once in a bolt that ricocheted off the wall and fizzled out, but Azhani was focused on the woman struggling against her grip. A smile, simple and plain, played at the edge of the Cathar’s lips and a few glittering white teeth, ground with use, glittered from behind them. She tilted her head to one side and tsk’d to the woman as if she were a mother to a child.

 

“Now you know ‘zat playing with weapons is bad miss.” The Cathar paused and frowned. Her eyes were jubilant and alight with merry sky blues, but her expression was upset, confused. “I’m sorry; I didn’t get your name. My name is Azhani. Vat’s yours?”

 

When the woman saw the Cathar at her full height her eyes widened even more. She raved and rampaged in the beast’s grip and fruitlessly tried to wrench herself away. “PUT ME DOWN YOU CRAZY SUMBITCH MONSTER!!! GIT… GIT AWAY FROM HERE OR IM GUNNA BURN YOU TO SMITHERENES!!!!”

 

It took a moment for the question to sink in, but when Azhani let the woman go and she plopped to the ground with an unceremonious thump, she looked up at the Cathar quizzically. “What you need to know my name fer?” The woman said, eyeing the monster suspiciously. She had half of her gaze trained on her carbine that was lying a few feet away, but she couldn’t reach it from here. She knew it, the Cathar knew it, and with the position she was in, she was pretty sure that if she had gone for it, the monster would have killed her.

 

The Cathar repeated her head tilt and smiled brightly to the pudgy human. “I only ask, because it is polite. I don’t know how I ended up here and any friends I can make, saves me from any undue fuss, if you know vat I mean.” Her accent was heavy, something that sounded like a mixture of purrs and roars, mingled with the common basic dialect that she was taught as a child. Meanwhile, the fat woman that was plopped to the ground spoke with an audible twang in her rustic other-worldly dialect.

 

The fat woman, who was a little more curious than terrified at the moment, decided to humor the monster, lest it try to eat her. “My name is Pateera Fizum. I run this here Cargo ship. I mainly keep to myself, but I sometimes get stowaways and I need to keep myself prepared, lest they be dangerous folk.”

 

Azhani looked deep into Pateera’s amber colored eyes. She studied the fear there and related it to her own. She could understand the suspicion, the preparedness. She could see beyond the smaller woman and find the defender that she imagined herself to be. Without any other consideration, Azhani’s more violent brethren would have taken this poor woman apart, but Azhani; azhani sought to protect and help, even if she wasn’t as good at it sometimes.

 

“Greetings are to you, Pateera of the Fizum clan.” Azhani said, bowing slightly to show her respect. “My apologies for stowing avay on your craft, it vas not of my intention.” Azhani said in a deep, but subtle tone. Her purrs were of a friendly resonance, giving a pleasant air to her demeanor. Her almost white fur glistened under the dim florescence and her pale eyes took on a gentler tone than they had before, when she woke. The images still played on the back of her mind like a cruel puppet show, but she didn’t know what to do with them. They were there, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Rage did nothing for her now.

 

Pateera blinked her disbelief at the large cat creature that towered over her, but it had been five minutes and the creature hadn’t killed her yet, so there was something to be said for the kindness that the monster had already displayed. Still, Pateera was staring with one eye at her carbine and one eye looking back at the monster’s now pleasant face.

 

Azhani looked down at her one more time and sighed. She picked the carbine up from where it was, which caused Pateera to flinch, and handed it back to Pateera with the gun end facing toward her. “I am an intruder and a strange one, if you must kill me, then do so.” Azhani said, her voice serious and stoic.

 

Pateera paused for a good long moment. She looked down at the gun that Azhani gingerly handed her, then back to the monster in question. She looked down at her gun again and then once more at the weird creature that sought its own demise. “You sure are one weeiiird animal. I reckon you have a place you want to go?” Pateera said, putting the carbine back in its holster.

 

Azhani looked the woman up and down before answering with a slight nod. “Yes, I vould like to return to Cathar if possible.”

 

Pateera cringed and made a small hissing sound, like air escaping from a tire. “Oooh. I wish I could, we don’t have the kind of fuel to make it back there.” She said. “The best I can do right now, is Corellia.”

 

Now it was the Cathar’s turn to look quizzically at the woman. “Co-rel-lia?” The Cathar sounded the word out. It was odd to be this out of place, but Azhani hadn’t left her planet before. The only tech knowledge she had was from the larger Cathar towns that surrounded her village.

 

Pateera smiled back, “Yeah, Corellia. A town of corrupt cops, city folk, high buildings and beautiful scenery; I can’t say you’d fit in real well, but here.” Pateera handed the Cathar one thousand credits. “This should help you get started and get you somewhere. You might find good work as a body guard.” Pateera said, trying to lend a helpful air to what seemed like a desperate situation.

 

“Thank you.” Azhani said. Her voice was solemn and sadness fell on her words, but she couldn’t fault the woman for her failures. She would have to find her way back in her own time. She only hoped that she would be able to find her family before they were lost forever.

 

“We’re about to come in for a landing at the Coronet Spaceport. If ever there was a time to get ready to leave, now is it…” Pateera said as she plodded back to the front of the cargo ship.

 

“Great…” Azhani said to herself as the ship entered the upper atmosphere…

[Vladimir Faust]

There was a disclaimer to the Switchblade's impressive engines- while they could bend time and space, they were unable to bend the neigh immutable laws of narrative causality.

 

*****

Faust's eyes close for a moment as he picks up the comms from his operatives, surrounding the trading floor in a discrete fashion and all in place as needed. They would act as crowd control. The ritual would be touch-and-go if he was able to move on it, though the timing would be difficult with the Jedi closing in. Aryian's presence he felt, though there was another familiar presence Faust could not place also approaching. He sends in a quiet cybermental call have a handful of his new DARKFALZ (Droid Aerial Recon-Killer Force-Animated Luciferian Zelotics) units deployed in the wings when things turned ugly.

 

Aloud, there's was a quiet set of instructions from under the white cowl, addressed to Kern.

 

"This will be a trial by fire, I warn you now. The Jedi are approaching. One is an old foe. Somewhat tainted, he called himself a Grey Jedi and fell once. He is infuriating, skilled, but impulsive and easy to manipulate, but not the worst the Jedi have to offer. His hag of a wife has been pursuing me for years and is much more competent. Be thankful you will not have to deal with her during this outing, nor that Kaipi brat." The memory of that fight atop the Jedi Temple brought back memories of excruciating pain, losing that battle to her treachery. Still, out of it came a chance to set the foundations for something greater.

 

"I anticipate talking were it any Jedi by Aryian Darkfire. There is something they suspect me of, a new ritual, an old power for using the Dark Side not seen on so grand a scale since the Old Republic or perhaps Palpatine's revival on Byss. Suspect, yes, but cannot prove. I am meeting with them to find out what they know and how. If it comes to a fight, we act, but the guardsman who spoke with you earlier will lead you to safety if things get truly ugly."

[Ary the Grey]

The search was short, the darkness having been amplified slightly by a second, lesser presence, helping Aryian to more accurately pinpoint it. Checking in on eight cube, the Grey Master strolled into the stock exchange building, and promptly triggered a nearby fire alarm.

 

As people began to rush out of the building, Aryian simply stood there. It was a quick and easy way of getting people out of the building, a more likely way of getting a positive ID on any hostiles, to include the Sith and any minions, and also a means to more loudly alert Armiena of his whereabouts if she hadn't already determined his eight cube joke.

 

Let the chess game begin.

[Vladimir Faust]

Faust almost smiles as the fire alarm goes off. The evacuation was not entirely unanticipated. nor the exact method (a summons of Corellian authorities and military action was deemed 50% more likely), but still a deviation from the optimum scenario he envisioned. A cybermental comm gives clear instructions: Let the sacrifices flee, move to execute the Scrambling.

 

Faust's voice echoes from under the hood once more, directed to Kern. "Follow my guardsman out. I will shield you from the Jedi while you escape and then I will met you back at your estate. Stay low... and if you can, take a few moments to divest your holdings from this market. It's about to go belly-up like a bloated Hutt corpse." On the floor, Faust's remaining servants quietly move towards the machines on the empty and evacuated trading floor, uploading a particularly pernicious program in the Exchange that was meant to antecede the execution of the RItual.

 

Kern's shoulder is firmly grasped by the appointed guard in his white uniform, pulling him to standing. A white gloved hand reaches out from under the cloak and touches the man's helmet right above the eye visor. There is a surge in the Force that runs between the arm, the helmet, and through Kern's shoulder, and Kern and his escort are masked in the darkness of Faust's will, taken out of Aryian and the other Jedi's sight and sense in the Force. Faust's presence in turn becomes a blazing beacon, oozing from the white cloak as if leaving a trail for those who had the sight.

 

Kern's escort motions for the fledging Sith to follow, making sure to keep in contact with Faust's newest follower to keep him within the safety of the former Dark Lord's shield. "Call your guards," he advises Kern quietly. voice muted by the helmet, "and let's escape quietly with the rest of the crowd. The Master will not want you damaged in this exchange. Lord Luciferian is not the only one willing to use scorched earth tactics." His helmeted head drifts back towards the flapping white cloak, accompanied by the three remaining royal guards as they leave the room to close in on Aryian. "Faust will deal with Aryian, personally."

 

***

As the lobby empties out from the fleeing workers, Faust's presence draws slowly closer, still a thick force wrapped around the white cloak and hood as a beacon to Aryian and any other Jedi. His familiar laughter echoes from under the hood in a low chuckle, flanked by the soft footsteps of a guardsman at each side and behind and the quiet flapping a cloak and robes. Once the laughter dies down, Faust's voice, mocking and pointed, projects at the Jedi.

 

"The infamous Grey Jedi, playing with a fire alarm like this was a school day lark. Tell me, Master Darkfire-drill, did you ever think it might have been more prudent to quietly accept an invitation instead of creating a general disturbance for all and sundry?" There is a pause, and the voice continues on, softer this time. As stated to Kern, Faust knew he was a suspect, but little evidence was left of what. It was time to play that for all it was worth. "Our enemy from Dantooine will not surface in the chaos you created. A pity... You have no idea what happened there, do you?"

[Ary the Grey]

The Grey Master's brows furrowed. Something Faust said didn't seem quite right.

 

"Dark....fire-drill..."

 

After a moment, Aryian grinned, his face softening.

 

"Ha. I get it. Kinda lame, but that's my kind of humor. And what the hell, I received no invitation, otherwise I'd be here in my Sunday best."

 

He paused for a moment, knowing full well it was a lie.

 

"Okay, fine, this IS my Sunday best. Whatever. No, I have no idea what happened on Dantooine. But the leads point to a Sith here in Coronet city, and here you are. So...uh...are we gonna dance, or...? I mean, it's been a while since I had some major gloomy-doom confrontation with a 'bad guy'."

 

Via his implant, an encrypted message was broadcast up to his ace in the hole, telling it to further position itself closer in preparation for a hasty insertion.

[Fynn Relmis]

Kern did as he was instructed, as he too felt the approach of a Jedi. He desired battle, but Kern had pledged allegiance to Faust, and only a fool would cast aside words so quickly. The small column of a dozen or so well armed guards formed up in front of the small suite. These Kehsiri were eager for battle, it was just as it as on Kesh, but Kern ordered them to withdraw. He signaled M'ruka, and a shuttle with dispatched along with a single y-wing escort.

 

Aryian Darkfire, a Jedi of renown, was one of the names he held in his mind as among those who would be crushed and removed when he ascended to power. He had grand plans for all the Jedi, detailed to each and every member. Too bad Faust would end him now, one less bit of pleasure for later. But had he come alone? A pity, he had hoped to get his hands on some fresh young padawan, there was much he could do with a nubile force sensitive, all of it horrible and torturous. Too bad...

 

With a few taps on an available commerce station, much of Relmis holdings and stock were transferred to a shell corporation, One whose stock would inevitably rise in case of the tragic loss of life and property damage, Relco Building & Recovery. Kern smiled broadly at the prospect of new profits, and then left with the guards, and the 'voice' of Faust.

 

-----

 

Upon exiting to the rear, a shuttle touched down on a pad reserved for royalty and the uber connected as the y-wing escort trailed and circled. To all he was just another citizen fleeing a terrorist incident. His caplet flapping in the midday breeze.

 

Baron Kern almost sighed visibly, as once again he had been sent away as his new master disappeared. Yet, this was Faust, and Kern dare not trespass against his will. The truth was he was ill prepared for a confrontation away from his estate. As much he spoiled for war, he had no urgent desire to lose. He would have his day, but this was not it, as much as it pained him.

 

The ramp lowered, and Kern boarded, along with Faust's spokesman, and chief guard. The other Keshiri provided cover and then boarded as we'll. Once aboard, he instructed that they head to the estate. The ship left the surface, and within minutes approached the palatial estate in the countryside.

Edited December 30, 2013 by Guest

[Azhani]

The Flaming Bantha Cargo Ship that Azhani had taken residence in for the past few days, received clearance at the Coronet Spaceport and was soon connected to the Bothan merchant that was purchasing the bulk of goods on board in Dock A-1, which turned out to be a lot of generic freight. Food, clothes, construction equipment; there were a lot of things that any normal merchant wouldn't take a second look at. Another buyer, a darker more subdued Duros individual, arrived later to pick up some miscellaneous cargo that was ‘unlabeled’ and located in the back of the cargo hold of The Flaming Bantha. Upon discovering this information and watching the 'shady' transaction, Azhani found that she didn’t really care too much. She knew that people – when forced to the brink of survival or even from day to day - did whatever they could to get by, so when she figured out that a few of the packages were unlabeled and suspicious, she didn’t let her curiosity get the better of her. Pateera gave her a free ride, so she figured she owed the smuggler some level of respect and courtesy when it came to her own affairs. That being said, the mystery behind the boxes deep within the cargo hold made her hands tingle. Enough to warrant a lingering gaze as she left the Spaceport.

 

Her feet fell silent with her habitual stride and the large Cathar slipped into the midday light and mingled with the throng that surrounded her. It didn’t take too long for her to get absorbed in the odd dutiful march of those with little else to see or do, but her outlandish height and her weird furry birth defect made her stand out like a sore thumb. She stood a foot or so taller than most and was easily twice as wide. Her hair shone like snow in even the modest afternoon hues and she could swear, even though she was walking through without issue, people were staring at her. She didn’t know anything about their customs, she knew even less about their geography and she had a rumbling in her stomach the size of texas. She yearned for a hunt, anything that would make her blood pump and anything that ended in a good day’s meal. But she didn’t know if there was anything like that here. This place was consumed by tall architecture.

 

There were buildings that stretched into the sky with magnificent luminescent displays. There were people on speeders she’d never seen, in fashions that she’d never heard of nor cared for, and roaming around like herd animals. They knew or saw little more than the person ahead of them and pushed on like it was their only motivation. It was mind blowing to the Cathar and did nothing to her already homesick, misanthropic temperament.

 

Just when she thought the monotony would never end however, something clouded her mind. She wasn’t really focusing on one thing or the other, but her senses clouded in darkness and her mind was plagued with a cloud of obscure… Bad-ness? Azhani didn’t know how to describe it. The ‘aura’ – if she could call it that - felt bad, as if energy could have some form of moral label. The feeling was strong though. It was enough to draw her eyes, just in time to notice a large building being evacuated.

 

A high pitched alarm blared out of the open doors and lights blinked on and off with reckless abandon. People were exclaiming ‘FIRE!’ at the top of their lungs and running out without regard to anyone around them. People pushed over one another and tackled other men, women and children to the ground as they sprinted out with looks of shock covering their faces.

 

Azhani took a moment and looked at the building. She scanned the large open fixtures at the top and off to the sides. Knowing very little about the architecture, she assumed that if there was indeed a fire they might have some way of putting it out. She didn’t see any evidence of a fire though and the lack of smoke made her even more curious, considering the insistence of the screaming individuals running out around her. More than that, she knew that there might be more people in the building unaware of the fire and therefore in danger.

 

With that in mind, she stole the opportunity provided by a gap in the exodus and pushed further into the building, against the tide of bodies. She climbed over screaming people and landed in a large room filled with tall electronic kiosks. She couldn’t determine their use, but by the look of this room she could ascertain that it was a large meeting room.

 

Two men stood near the center of the room and they stared hard at each other. One held himself a little off and the other seemed straight, strict, and without any hint of humor. They were both robed, which set Azhani a bit on edge, but they were still in a dangerous area and they needed to get out.

 

“Hey! You and you, therrre is a firrre in the building. Vhy arrre you two still herrre?” Azhani said. The dark presence from before seemed to echo here; like a dull flame, it burned at her but refused to show its crimson blaze. She could feel the tingling of each of her hairs as they all stood on end at the same time, but she ignored the feeling.

[Vladimir Faust]

There's a low chuckle from under the white hood. A white gloved hand reaches within the cloak, though instead of reaching for a weapon, a single Imperial coin is retrieved and tossed at Aryian's feet. "If that's your Sunday best, boy, you need to get a better set of clothes." The white hood shakes in disapproval. "Dantooine was... interesting. A disturbance of that source naturally garnered my attention. I arrived after the fact, and was able to discern something powerful was done in the Force... The technique was Sith. There is an absence in the area I'm sure you felt. No life, no Force, no nothing, like a void. There are few in the Sith who have that kind of power or knowledge. My own contacts within the Sith lead me here." He crosses his arms, maintaining his distance for Aryian, the guards spreading out with a few steps. "So, Jedi, what is your ne-"

 

The taunt breaks off as a Cathar walks into the building, interrupting the exchange. "xt move..."

 

There is a silence from within the hood, not responding to this new, unknown element. A subtle hand motion points one of the royal guardsman toward the Cathar- not to attack or kill yet, but to restrain if this element proved a hindrance to Faust's plan.

 

"One of yours?" the voice continues in a surprisingly level tone.

 

****

Back on the exchange, Faust's servitors complete their dirty work, uploading their program into the exchange. Within seconds it activates, sending out a blurred mix of signals into the exchange computer. In microseconds, fortunes are lost and made before vanishing into a black hole, assets disappearing into channels not set to enrich Faust, but sow chaos. Ten seconds later, a storm of ionization EMP bombs detonate, silencing the alarms and plunging the lobby into near blackness- save for four blue lights emanating from the royal guard helms and under the white hood. The Exchange's computers are fried by the ionization waves, causing billions of dollars in financial damage to Corellia and the galaxy. It could probably be recouped, but the signal it sent was what was important, as was the attitude of fear. The servitors quickly strip off their gear, disintegrating it and then exit the building in the uniforms of Corellian policemen.

 

It's worth noting Relco Building & Recovery and several of Black Sun's holdings, divested before the program took full effect, managed to make a handsome, but not outrageous profit before the market was purposely tanked. Several other winners who deliberately stood out were the holdings of several lead Sith Masters and their allies other than Faust.

 

****

 

Aboard the Baron's shuttle, now some distance away from Coronet near Kern's estate, a second voice speaking with Faust's authority comes from under the royal guard helmet. The voice no longer sounds hollow from under the helm, but picks up an edge and certitude. The cloak of the dark side seem to intensify as they get further from Coronet.

 

"Lord Faust will stall the Jedi fool. Darkfire played his hand well." There is a silence as the shuttle starts to touch down. "What do you hope to gain by pledging loyalty to Lord Faust? He is a demanding master, he expects obedience, but also strength, decisiveness, boldness. He is in the endgame of a long gambit and cannot afford any unproven elements to slow him down. What do you seek from him, the would-be-apprentice? You state your desire to wreck vengeance on the Jedi, chaos on the galaxy... but I would know why?"

[ObliviousKnight]

Still approaching the planet, Armiena received her ex-husband’s transmission and frowned. Having at least one screw knocked loose by a lifetime of battle, she didn’t quite grasp the reference to an eight-cube, but she perfectly understood that he needed close air support and had managed to clear the ground after tripping a fire evacuation of the Corellian Stock Exchange. Jamming the throttle forward, the pilot hastened her descent and got Coronet Airspace Control on the comms unit.

 

“Coronet Control, this is Sigma-22, approaching Coronet from Coruscant radionucleics lane.” She shot a quick glance out the canopy, noting a cloud of media airspeeders that was beginning to complicate the skies near her destination. “Clear the airspace in the vicinity of the Corellian Stock Exchange.”

 

The deadpan voice came back immediately. “Sigma-22, be advised that Coronet City Aerospace Control does not recognize the authority of a solitary tramp freighter that has no standing in this star system, and that attempting to blackmail, coerce, or otherwise manipulate an agent into altering atmospheric traffic patterns is a Class Two felony, subject—“

 

“Dammit, I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to say this.” Armiena growled. “This is Jedi Master Armiena Draygo, part of a task force investigating an incident that has just occurred on Dantooine. We believe that the situation in the Stock Exchange is connected. In the name of the Jedi Order, close the airspace in the vicinity of the Corellian Stock Exchange, or so help me, any vessel that finds itself in the middle of a dogfight gets what it has coming to him. Get me some fracking airspace, now!”

 

Watching the skies near the tower that housed the exchange market, Armiena noted the departure of most of the interfering traffic. A number of vessels remained, most likely vehicles belonging to the public safety departments, judging from the aurora of emergency lights flaring on their chassis—and the foolhardy journalists that they were trying to herd from the scene.

 

Dipping the fuselage of the Switchblade near sea level, Armiena deactivated the holoprojectors that camouflaged the interceptor’s hull as a tramp freighter. The disguise of her vessel cast aside, Armiena activated the ship’s shields and weapons suite and took up a patrol pattern two kilometers outside the Corellian Stock Exchange, circling the edifice at a sufficient altitude so she could quickly supply close air support or respond to any interlopers.

 

“And here I am, in an interceptor, holding a predictable flight pattern above a ground target. This is going to get very interesting if our interloper has friends of his own.” Armiena complained as the Switchblade shot over a block of substandard apartment housing. “Right. Building is mostly evacuated, save for a few stubborn individuals and… huh.” The Alderaanian frowned as her sensors registered the entrance of another sentient being. “Who’s this clown?”

 

Meanwhile, her retinal implant was sending minute-by-minute updates of the situation as the local media understood it. Apparently the system’s stock market had crashed, amid widespread speculation of illegal market manipulation. Interesting.

[Fynn Relmis]

"Lord Faust will stall the Jedi fool. Darkfire played his hand well." There is a silence as the shuttle starts to touch down. "What do you hope to gain by pledging loyalty to Lord Faust? He is a demanding master, he expects obedience, but also strength, decisiveness, boldness. He is in the endgame of a long gambit and cannot afford any unproven elements to slow him down. What do you seek from him, the would-be-apprentice? You state your desire to wreck vengeance on the Jedi, chaos on the galaxy... but I would know why?"

 

Kern turned his head slowly to the 'Voice', giving him a quiet stare and for a brief moment that seemed to be all the answer he would give.

 

"This body, this form, is but a vessel. It once housed a fool not unlike those obtuse Jedi who confront Our lord Faust at this moment. I was nothing but a blunt instrument a tool of unworthy masters and a pawn of self righteous plutocrats. Then I tasted power...true power. A Sith named Lallu, and her master after her helped me to see it for the first time. Peace..." Kern spat the word out as the small group of guards moved down the ramp below them. The palatial estate of Relmis was in perfect running order, the entire staff was on hand waiting in neat little rows for the master of the house. "Peace is a lie, there is only one thing this galaxy will yield to. Strength, unyielding strength, the ancient Sith were worshiped as gods, not because of a mistake...."

 

A group of highly trained Keshiri soldiers moved along with them towards a small hangar. A small skiff arrived as Kern finished. They all knelt shielding their faces in reverence. Thier newly minted Sith armor barely reflecting the evening suns light. He became slightly aware of the mans force abilities as they approached the new launch bay. It was clear he had the ability to mask many things with the darkside, an ability that was uncommon at best.

 

"We force users ARE gods, and we should be making the galaxy bend at our will, not kneeling into the dirt, begging to be accepted by the ungifted masses. Any and all who oppose this godship should be crushed and eradicated, and so long as Faust has this power, I shall serve him." Kern said as he finished. He was a bit perturbed by the questioning of his loyalty. Still he recognized the need of Faust's men to be cautious.

 

His personal butler approached, the we'll manicured fellow was prompt and polite as always.

 

"Sir, welcome home. Will your guests require refreshments, or anything we can provide? " he asked thoughtfully, still kern could sense there was something unsettling him,"

 

"Venbraan?"

 

"Just over the comms my lord, the Jedi have erected a no fly zone. Apparently there is quite a goings on in the capital."

 

"Indeed? Jedi declaring Marshall law... My, my." He said mockingly, thinking of how much he wanted to get his hands on just one of his old 'friends'. They would be ready... just in case.

 

Did my Lord Faust give any instructions, my home here is fortified but not impervious I'm afraid. A few of my personal Keshiri guard, about a hundred traditional guards, a ship is standing by to take us to wherever Lord Faust may wish.

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian was about to say something amazing and heroic, possibly something that would have broken Faust's resolve, turned him to the light side, and ended galactic hunger. Then the Cathar walked in, totally ruining it. Not really, but it's fun to use your imagination.

 

"No, not one of mine. I don't suppose she-"

 

Right then, the building shook lightly as the lights flickered, drowning them in darkness. No doubt a ploy, but it was one that could possibly end in Aryian's favor. He was no longer a Jedi, nor a stranger to the shadow. He wasn't bound by decency or honor, such things were forcibly taken from him. In fact, he was simply freer to...have fun.

 

Aryian's voice echoed out, from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

 

"I suppose my next move...is to have a little fun. You may or may not be who we're looking for, but it doesn't mean I can't stretch the limbs a bit, as it were..."

[Vladimir Faust]

There is a long wearying sigh from under the white hood. "As you wish, Master Dark-Lobby-FIre-Drill. The galaxy is catching smoldering on its own funeral pyre, and the only fire alarms you are able to respond to are those you set off yourself." There's a pointed hand motion towards the exit, with the hooded face turning towards the Cathar. "Come, child," he states to the Cathar, "we'd best depart and leave this grey fool to his own devices. This darkness in the lobby tells me we were too late to prevent whatever happened here."

 

There's another pointed sound of disgust from under the hood, it's owner knowing the need to follow the plan, improvising as necessary, but also knowing he lacked the means to find a Jedi cloaking himself in the Force and the darkness. Making a pointed effort to ignore the Grey Jedi, and letting his guards surround him and sweep the area with the sensors under their helms, he takes a casual stride towards illumination of the lobby's exit.

 

*****

On the baron's estate, the man in the guard uniform listens intently. "You've picked up some of Furion's style and teaching," he concludes. "But do not denigrate your body so much. A vessel, yes, but it is a finely honed tool capable of housing a spirit that seizes the Dark side and lesser men., But beyond that, you are correct. There is only room for the strong, peace is a lie, and the Jedi are fools and false shepherds, oblivious to the wolves and reavers within their own hearts, those they would protect, and even among those they fight " He draws himself up, having made a decision within the bounds of the plan. "Gather up as many of your servants as you consider expendable. We will leave at once for Kashyyyk. The Jedi's eyes are blinded by the chaos in the exchange. There are preparations that can be made. You call the Sith gods over mere mortals, but we are flesh, and flesh we remain. Translation, ascension, are possible. With your assistance, something glorious may come to pass that will grant you the divinity you deserve, but we must act quickly."

[Azhani]

“vone of his?” Azhani muttered to herself. She took a moment to look between them when she could hear the quake like a loud banging in her ears. The lights crackled in static with a cacophony of warbling vibrations before they died. The building continued to rumble a little before finally falling back into sync with the rest of the room. A system triggered in the ceiling with an audible click as nasty smelling fluid showered into the facility.

 

In the space of a second, Azhani knew the room. The eyes of a hunter swept over everything and everyone before the lights went out. She could see exactly where she was in the chaos. Dim light lingered even in the velvet blackness that now enveloped the group and that was all it took to see the hooded figures part ways. One, the one that smelled foreign and uncertain, made for the shadows, trying to hide away from the large furry predator that crouched low near the center of the room. She could see him scamper off - almost plain as day to where he now stood. She could hear his foot falls against the metal as he plodded along. He was a bit light on his feet, which was worthy of note, but the sound still registered, regardless. She could hear the scamper of tiny bugs beneath her feet, so his steps were quite loud in comparison. His style seemed learned, but clumsy. It almost felt like he was intentionally playing around like he was enjoying a game.

 

The other man, the one that smelled simultaneously of death and rich oils and perfumes, ordered her like a cub to follow him out and then proceeded to send orders to faceless individuals all around the room. Azhani hadn’t noticed the individuals when she walked in, because she thought they were part of the back drop, but when they moved into the center of the room in attempts to find and subdue the stealthy one, Azhani knew there was something about them. She didn’t know what exactly, but it didn’t take too much of an intuitive step to know that the other man was at least partly responsible for their motion.

 

Who are these men? She thought quietly. Azhani narrowly avoided two guards as they swept past her and when a few of them tried to enforce their master’s previous orders, Azhani moved quickly into the shadows to counter their movements. If the men didn’t want to be saved, and there wasn’t a fire, then she just put herself in a sticky situation that she didn’t really need. She didn’t know if she was being pursued and she figured that they wouldn’t be able to find her even if they tried. It was strenuous, but she could live with it. She was about to climb one of the mechanical kiosks to get some more perspective on the room when one of the guards grabbed at her.

 

She struggled for a moment with her arms flailing over her head, when she grabbed hold of the man’s shoulder pieces, tensed her muscles and wrenched him - armor and all - over her head and into the metal kiosk. She preceded the move with a large bestial roar that filled the room. It simultaneously gave away her location and obfuscated her location at the same time. She didn’t want to play around. The men had weapons and they weren’t afraid to use them, but she needed them to know she wasn’t defenseless. She wanted them to know she was quite willing to dish out anything they did to her regardless of their intentions. The man she threw hit the kiosk with a violent thump and even though the kiosk didn’t smash – because it was made of sterner stuff - the man’s armor creaked a little and he fell a few feet away, crashing hard to the ground.

 

Azhani, seeing her opening, fled to the top of the metal kiosks and leapt from kiosk to kiosk to avoid the guards. She could see them milling about and decided it was best to avoid them. She didn’t want to kill any of them, because there was nothing to be gained from senseless killing here, but she wanted to know what was going on. It was a little late to just exit the building when she made herself a threat, but she needed to find a way to move any way that she could.

[Fynn Relmis]

The offer of true godship did not fall on deaf ears. Kern knew well that the goal of immortality was not entirely out of reach. His research had indicated that such things were possible, but truly difficult to achieve. It mattered little, Faust held power, and if obedience would lead him to such power, then obedience it would be.

 

"If Faust wishes on Kashyyyk, then that's where we shall go." Kern said acknowledging the order. He gave a simple gesture for Venbraan to approach.

 

"Contact the Ravenspire. It's about time I did an inspection. Tell M'ruka to wait for Faust, and then head for Kesh, and follow his orders as she would my own."

 

---

 

On the far-side of Corellia, a newly completed frigate powered up it's engines for the first time. The Lancer Class frigate had been built on special order by Relmis Corporation, a mobile command center for it's various corporate ventures. It was armed with 10 turbo laser turrets, and it's hangar bay was capable of holding at least 6 fighters. For the moment, only two modified y-wings and a recently appropriated Assault Gunboat were it's complement. Registered to Corellia, and legally acquired, the ships registered owner was unlisted, and private.

 

Within minutes it approached a synchronous orbit above the Estate. Kern boarded a small transport along with Faust's guards and representatives departing the estate. Lastly he left orders to keep all security on high alert. The small ship climbed into the airspace outside Coronet, and landed in the new hangar aboard the well armed craft.

 

He was greeted by a new captain as he exited the transport.

 

"Welcome to the 'Ravenspire' Baron Kern, we didn't expect-"

 

"Cut the pleasantries, I'm here to inspect, not to press the flesh." Kern said sternly.

 

"Of course sir, all is in readiness." The eager captain replied obediently.

 

"Set a course for Kashyyyk, with all possible speed." He said as he inspected things on his way to the bridge. And a young ensign scurried away to see his order followed.

 

-----

With a dozen Keshiri guards, and commanded by M'ruka Kern's tough as nails chief of security, the Aegis Corellian Gunboat descends towards the outskirts Coronet city, outside the it's airspace. Meanwhile it sends a signal to Faust's comm, letting him know it's approaching vector and Kern's orders to follow his commands, no matter what they might be.

[Vladimir Faust]

As things came to a head at the exchange and at the estate, Faust concluded it was time to pull out completely. What he knew: The Jedi were aware he did something, but weren't sure entirely what. Aryian was on his trail, and despite the posturing as an outcast Grey Jedi, would bring the rest of the damnable order down on him like a pack of mewling dogs. A final cybermental comm goes out to all parties with the simple order to discretely pull out.

 

*****

Back at the exchanges, the thrown guard quickly rolls to his feet, stinging from the throw. There's a hissed, "Come on, and stop playing!" from the nominal Lews Cypher as he strolls out of the lobby. The thrown guard, as warily and with as much dignity as he can salvage, follows his operations leader outside, intent on ignoring the Cathar and the Jedi. Outside and in the sunlight, the four quickly filter into the crowd of evacuated businessmen and staff and then disperse. The thrown guard, muttering under his breath an angry oath about the Cathar who was presumably still in the building with the Jedi, glances back and observes a white cloak with a attached cowl on the ground. Shattered by a series of heavy bootstomps, is a thin mechanical faceplate, the same used to give the artificial darkness, and to also alter one's voice to a pre-arranged settings. The guard almost shudders at the cloak, still feeling his master's presence attached to it, knowing how Faust imbued it into the very fibers.

 

*****

Faust's eyes close, still maintaining the control hiding on the aura and presence of himself and his apprentice. Imbuing a footprint into the cloak and cowl and letting the Jedi think he was back at the exchange was risky. He glances over to Kern, knowing there was always a danger around under Sith, particularly in his given role. A dangerous gambit, but one not unheard of in the Galactic scene. Palpatine was rumored to have used body doubles as needed, and Padme Amidala's use of masquerading as one of her own guards while a body double took her place shaped events for generations to come. Indeed the greatest danger is appearing to be an expendable guard around a volatile Sith. He waits quietly until he Kern sends the order to comm Faust.

 

"Belay that order," he states crisply from behind Kern on the bridge of Ravenspire, his voice from under the royal guard helmet sounding exactly like his own.

 

Removing the whitewashed Royal Guard helmet, Faust throws back his head and smooths back his hair, laughing, and meeting Kern directly in the eyes. "Indeed, Kern, I do believe Faust wishes to go to Kashyyyk. My agents will be going to ground and can meet up with us later if they haven't been detained, killed, or followed." Faust was impressed. His newest follower's senses of something being amiss within the white cloak was correct, but not the whole truth. He took the lead on speaking to Kern save when he coached his white cloaked body double to speak, but as always, his concern was a "private" meeting with any Jedi at the exchange.

 

"There's been a wonderful bit of chaos here on Coronet, but we need to stay one step ahead of the Jedi. Once we leave for Kashyyyk, I can explain further. The curtain is rising on a play that will upend this galaxy. Act One is closing, and you've volunteered for a backstage pass."

[Fynn Relmis]

Kern was taken aback, at first, but a casual smile graced his face as the masterful deception was revealed. He shook his head in near disbelief. Faust was no mere trickster, he could leave any opponent chasing shadows and reflections. Even now Kern was not certain that this was truly Faust or another deception. The darkside was indeed his ally in a way that Kern did not yet understand.

 

"Masterful... absolutely masterful." He commented as he turned and gave a wave of his hand to get underway. His Keshiri guard were unsure of what had just occurred, but followed his commands obediently and without question.

 

---

 

The small shuttle aborted its position and rendezvous with the waiting Aegis Gunship. M'ruka sent a signal that the order to proceed to Kesh had been received. In a minute or two after docking the Corellian Gunship entered hyperspace bound officially for Naboo. After several off the record course corrections later, It made the long unregistered jump to Kesh.

 

The Relmis estate was a ghost town once more, as its servants and groundskeepers were sent home, and only a skeleton crew was kept on to keep everything in proper up keep.

 

---

 

Kern sat beneath Faust in a contemplative mood on the bridge of the Lancer Class Frigate Ravenspire, as it exited Corellian space bound for Kashyyyk. It's hyperdrive propelled it forward into the unending blackness of space.

[ObliviousKnight]

After many orbits around the Corellian Stock Exchange, Armiena’s nervousness began to morph into a sense of dread. Something was clearly going wrong on the ground, otherwise there would have been some sign of a struggle—and Aryian was perfectly capable of causing mayhem on a mythological scale. Yet, she had to hold her station as air support. If the scene at the stock exchange turned out to be a trap, the Switchblade would be needed to deliver close air support in the form of a strafing run or a low-speed bombardment of the structure. And if their interloper turned out to have friends in the form of air support…

 

Armiena decided to risk revealing her presence and relaxed her grip on the perturbations of the Force about herself, sweeping her senses over the structure she was maintaining a clear sky... and discovering that the interloper was none other than Vladimir Faust.

 

Her hand twitched reflexively on the control stick of her interceptor, causing the Switchblade to jerk gracelessly through another orbit of the Corellian Stock Exchange. This was not the moment that Armiena would have chosen for her confrontation with Vladimir Faust. However, as unprepared as she was and with so few forces arrayed against her perennial tormentor, the meeting had come. Breaking hard to redirect her craft directly towards the stock exchange, the Switchblade gained altitude and its pilot surveyed the structure that she had been patrolling around. The Corellian Stock Exchange was a rather old building, a somewhat squat edifice comprised primarily of steel and concrete when most of the newer towers in Coronet made use of more modern developments in transparisteel and higher-grade materals—and possibly Alderaanian tastes, judging from the daring curves of one tower that was still under construction. However, there were still skylights installed over the axis of the Exchange, through which Armiena could easily discern two figures facing each other inside.

 

Armiena threw the throttle forwards and her ship plunged towards the Stock Exchange. Taking a position at one side of the building, the expert pilot kicked in the repulsorlifts and maneuvering thrusters to point the nose of the Switchblade directly at Vladimir Faust, chainguns revved up and laser cannons fully charged. The black profile of her ship could be seen through the skylights, drifting slowly from side to side with minute corrections to hold the interceptor steady.

 

“Come on, you little…” Armiena growled a curse under her breath. The Bhelliom was still yet to be spotted by either her ship or the more powerful, longer-ranged sensors that Coronet Traffic Control possessed. Still, if opportunity presented itself and Faust made a move, she would take the shot and fill the Stock Exchange with a storm of hot lead.