Value Loyalty Above All Else [Star Wars]

Kala looked at her friend and shared a grimace, the gestures somewhat undercut by the fact it was done over holo. "This is a shit-show, Clara. We don't have the ships, fighters or intel to win this. Good thing we're not trying, I suppose, but if they push it we are fucked."

"We're not alone." Her fellow captain offered, smiling brightly. The shine of her new command hadn't worn off yet, clearly. "Three Imperial ships hide in our shadow, those should come in useful."

"And barely combat ready, let alone effective. The moff told them to cooperate, not follow orders, which was a nice little piece of subterfuge. The asshole commanding the only ship worth a damn and he's a racist, go figure."

"We could call Lord Caro? I doubt he'll stand for it, and you know he prefers his own people to be in command."

That he would. "No, no. He's busy enough as is and their help wouldn't actually be all that helpful. How are your men?"

"Antsy but holding. No one likes being stuck in a ship, let alone one about to go into combat. Well, if you can't do anything about it, anyway. I'm not filling my days with drills, cleaning and more drills. Poor bastards."

She sent Clara a dry look. "It's your ship, that sympathy runs somewhat shallow. You have command over anyone on it."

"Not sticking my nose in that, not without a sith in my corner. Navy and grunts don't mix."

"You're a captain now, Clara." Kala sighed. "It isn't all fun and games, and you're ultimately responsible for thousands of souls. Lord Caro is as relaxed as I've ever seen a superior be, don't assume that will last if you fuck up badly enough."

"I'm not stupid, thank you very much."

"Never said you were. Just pointing out the obvious. How's Lady Vette? Don't see her around much."

Clara shrugged. "Busy. We're friends, I suppose, but not all that close. I suspect she used me to keep an closer eye on you, back when you were first given your command. At least she was nice about it."

"Maybe, maybe not. Did you get a chance to look over the report I sent?"

"The new manoeuvres, yes. Ruthless, efficient and direct. Also untested, though we can't exactly run exercises right now. Not even Belthon will see that as anything other than an attack."

"I still think it was an insult, having him talk with us. Boy's barely a year out of the academy."

The reply was delayed as Clara signed something, nodding when her second in command left. A chiss, Kala saw. Working together to select new officers had been fun. "Lord Caro said it was a favour arranged by a contact of his within their ranks. Young he might be, he held full power to approve shipping routes, patrol schedules and personnel deployment, none of which he should have had. When we didn't take advantage of that to put ourselves in a better position trust was built, however thinly."

"I know, I know. All this waiting is bothering me. How it's not bothering you is beyond me. Here we have ships, soldiers and fighters. Sith and special forces and did I mention the two sith Lords? Yet we can't use any of it without upsetting the balance, we're losing our advantage the longer we do nothing and I'm getting antsy."

"Getting?" Kala grinned as Clara glared. "I'm calm because this is just the prelude. Grand battles are flashy and sieges are memorable, but it's what we're doing now that wins wars. Securing supplies, ensuring financial independence, marshalling the men. Drills and inventory checks aren't fun, no, but when I go into war I want to do so with the ability to crush any who get in my way."

"Preparing for a war while trying not to start one, ironic."

Kala shrugged. "I don't want to waste any resources on the Republic anyway."

"What?"

"What what?"

"What do you mean 'waste them on the Republic? Any ship we destroy here won't be able to fight us later."

"Because we won't be fighting the Republic at all?" She turned fully to the holo, eyebrow raised. "You know, since Lord Caro doesn't care about them? I'm sure you were at the briefing. The one where he told us the Empire might become a potential enemy?"

Clara shook her head slowly, frown deepening. "I was not. I'd remember signing up for treason. I mean, I heard rumours, suspected we were more independent than we should, but."

"It's only treason if we lose, perk of being attached to an influential sith. If we win we're looking to be commanding entire fleets, which is going to be so much fun. And I do mean that sincerely."

"I. We." Her friend leaned back, gaze unfocussed. "What?"

"I'll come over, we'll talk." Kala assured. "You're my best friend in the whole wide galaxy, Clara. I wouldn't cut you out of the fun."

Clara smiled weakly. "Of course you wouldn't."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

He breathed as Lord Caro appeared around the corner, wearing nothing more than travel clothes. Even his lightsaber was hidden behind them, face covered by rough cloth, and he looked not an inch of the warrior he was. Then the man's eyes flickered to Kell and Gasnic, measuring and weighing, and Bundu found the clothes did very little after all.

"Bundu, Kell, Gasnic. Thank you for meeting me. I find speaking in person has a quality no holo can replicate."

"Of course." Kell replied, tone even. Bundu knew she was the more hesitant of the pair, though neither had had much interaction with the sith. "No one wants a war."

"Least of all me. The War Trust, which I am here for, cried wolf. Good for their personal situation, yes, but it might also start a war. One I have been informed the Republic isn't ready for. We are here, in part, to try and stop it."

The chiss folded her arms. "Yet you attack Republic soldiers."

Bundu suppressed a wince as his friend looked at her, expression flat. "I'm sorry, the secret assassin cult member said something about killing? How many have you watched the life drain from, I wonder?"

"Our targets deserve whatever fate they got."

"Well, as long as your moral compass is appeased." The sith Lord paused, irritation being whisked behind shields. "I won't apologise for killing those who are prepared to kill, though in the same vein you won't see me condone senseless slaughter. If you, either of you, do not have the stomach for unpleasant work, say so now. It will save us all some time."

Gasnic put a hand on his friend's shoulder, though Bundu was fairly sure that was all they were. "Will our mission have purpose?"

"Peace. The Republic won't have to fight a war it can't win, I won't be forced to do horrible things to keep those I love alive and everyone will be happier. That last one is subjective, I will admit."

"And our training?" The zabrak raised an eyebrow, tone as calm as could be. "Our discussion regarding that topic was interrupted."

Bundu kept quiet as Morgan nodded, curious about how this would unfold without his intervention. "So it did. Last time we spoke I mentioned a price for that knowledge, one we never agreed on. Bundu was a special case, one that turned out better than I could have hoped for, but my knowledge has grown."

"And the price along with it." Kell finished, eyes turning to Gasnic. "Give us a moment to discuss?"

"Of course. It will allow me to catch up with Bundu."

He watched as his colleagues moved away and conversed, though in truth he was distancing himself further and further away from the order. Which was, last he heard, not doing so well. Karr's fall had eroded more trust than he anticipated. "You should be aware that titles could bring an unintended tone to one's words. Catching up, for example, could be interpreted as killing me."

"If I were to concern myself with every opinion I'd never get anything done." Morgan grinned, noticeably more relaxed. Bundu found that odd, for a moment, before he realised the man trusted him. Old assassin instincts insisted it would make the perfect moment to strike, though he clamped down on them. He didn't want to, for starters, nor did he think he would succeed. "So, how's life been since Tatooine?"

"That was not even three weeks ago. What could I have possibly done that would be of note?"

"Found evidence of your leaders' corruption, rallying true believers to your banner? Overthrew the fallen Grandmaster, beating him in an epic duel, before assuming your rightful place as head of the organisation?"

Bundu recoiled, shock stuttering over his features despite his best attempt at remaining calm. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Wait, really?" Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Oh. Fuck you."

"I prefer my mates to be female, but I am flattered. Also, my order does not have a Grandmaster. That title is reserved for the reigning leader of the High jedi Council."

"We have that in common. The first part, I mean. Humanoid, too, though I am terribly vanilla when it comes to that."

He titled his head. "Humanoid. An interesting choice of words. Where did you say you grew up? I seem to have forgotten."

"Never did. You wouldn't have heard of it, regardless. It would be safe to assume my life before Korriban doesn't matter."

"All experiences matter, though traumatic ones weigh more heavily than most. I will let the subject lie."

"Thanks. So, what did you get up to?"

He shrugged. "Travelling, mostly. Met up with Kell and Gasnic, we talked for a number of days, made our way here. I believe to have discovered a latent affinity for stealth, too. I am still meditating on it."

"My control has always been better than those that only use the Dark." Morgan collected a number of small rocks, rotating them around his person in increasingly complex patterns. "But I never knew if it was a me thing or a Je'daii thing. Fleshcrafting can be called an affinity, though again I don't know if that's just because my control is so good. Hard to quantify the Force without remaining open minded to its nature."

"That it is. I am pleased should it be true, but I have lived long without it."

"But imagine what you could do with even greater stealth. You already slaughtered two sith Lords, no matter that I seem to have gotten the credit."

"One. Master Volryder took care of the second, though I will admit to assisting him. I have never been insistent on glory."

"All the same, it was you who did the deed. You have my gratitude."

"As you have said before. And I believe my colleagues are done discussing among themselves."

They had, returning with a resolute if sour look about them. It was Kell who spoke, as it so often was, but Bundu knew better than to discount Gasnic. Skilled he might be, high in their order he might be, those two had been working together for well over a decade. Whatever one said, both agreed with.

"We can't stop you." It seemed to actually pain the chiss to admit that, though he saw no reason why. It was true. "I don't think there is any one person, or even a group, that could. Not here on Taris. A ship might, if they got lucky. But you have your own ships, and at that point we would be back to war."

Gasnic shifted, making her sigh. "Right, sorry. What I mean, even if we don't agree, we can't stop you. Which means we can't do anything at all, not as we are now. We would like to learn about the Je'daii, and more, if you'll have us."

The Force thickened as Lord Caro stopped leashing his presence, though it seemed strangely localised. Bundu knew of no other Force users on the planet, which, he admitted, wouldn't mean much. Who knew if some jedi Shadow or sith Assassin was skulking in the dark. In either case, though, they would have to be close to feel anything wrong.

"And so we return to the price. I will not be training my own slayers, nor allow spies close to me and mine. You will submit for a review, one that will not harm you, which will determine your honesty. Your character. And, should you pass it, you will swear an oath."

Bundu reigned in his instinctive fear as the Force twisted, seeming to observe much more readily than it normally would. How he could almost imagine an eye opening, lazily taking in its surroundings, and judging them for their worth. For their potential. Kell and Gasnic were frozen, eyes tight and terrified, and he shunted emotion behind a wall. Calm descended, though the scene did not change.

"It is not one that will kill you, nor do I wish for slaves. But it will be a binding promise to keep my secrets, to abstain from causing me harm. Should you break the oath's intent, it's spirit, I will know. All association will cease and, if you have done something truly unwise, I will come for you."

A moment later and the feeling was gone, Morgan smiling at them lightly. "In return I will train you in the way of the Je'daii. In fleshcrafting, if only the basics, and any other skills I believe you are lacking. I would be happy to receive instruction in return, should you possess any skills I do not, but I will not require it. If we get along, and our relationship becomes long term, the oath will be lifted as trust is established. Bundu here can verify that that is possible."

"It is." He said, shrugging. Kell and Gasnic didn't seem to pay his words any attention, though he spoke anyway. "It was lifted after Tatooine, my third visit, and I was not lesser for having endured it."

The silence stretched until Gasnic mumbled agreements, Lord Caro leaving soon afterwards with a promise for another meeting. The mess he'd caused still had to be sorted out, after all, but it seemed wise to do that later. His colleagues did seem somewhat downcast, though Kell rallied quickly.

Rallied straight into an uproar, apparently, because somehow it was his fault Morgan didn't conform. "What in the flying krayt-shit was that? He. Why. What was that?!"

"Those powerful in the Force often manifest quirks." Bundu replied, raising an eyebrow. "Please do not raise your voice at me."

Gasnic shook his head. "That wasn't a quirk, Shadowed Sun. I do not know what it was, but it was not that."

Bundu shrugged. "I am no loremaster, though I have consulted one on this matter. It is consistent, or at least vaguely so, to those that are favoured by the Force. It does seem somewhat eldritch, and can be considered an abomination, but one gets used to it."

"He's not that powerful." Kell argued, shooting Bundu a look. "What? He isn't. You're stronger, as are most Knights. Master's dwarf him."

He shook his head, waving the matter away. "You mistake power for reserves. And being favoured is another matter entirely, one poorly studied and infrequently understood. Come, I think it is good if we leave this place. We have captains to calm, assurance to make and glory to reap. We did, after all, manage to trick the sith into standing down."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"I am starting to develop a dislike for these creatures." Lana hissed, blasting four of them away. Their bodies broke against old ruins, toppling the wall in the process. "A strong dislike."

Morgan hummed, taking a moment and dramatically waving his hand. Half the pack racing towards him turned rabid, their fellows turning against each other without hesitation. "I don't find them that troublesome myself. Look, I don't even need my lightsaber."

What few rakghouls survived fell to his knives, gliding through the air like dancing leaves. It gave them a quality he found mesmerising, though didn't do much to make them more dangerous. Sometimes, though, he found appearing intimidating to be convenient.

"That's because you cheat. Who even teaches mental manipulation to an apprentice?"

"We figured it out ourselves, actually. Well, Astara and Soft Voice did. Defence and attack both, and I honed it afterwards." Fairly close to the truth. Morgan grinned at her. "You don't know how? I could show you, if you'd like."

She shot him an insulted glare. "I know how. It's just that those that warrant it are usually shielded, rabble such as this waste its power and will you stupid things take a hint already?"

Her outburst was accompanied by a surge of power, more than he could summon on his best day, and the fourth wave was torn apart with brutal violence. Dozens of corpses, dead before they ever landed, rained down over the ruin. Morgan sent his knives after the survivors, who, irritatingly, were still trying to kill them.

"We must be close to a nest. Two weeks and we've never seen them this aggressive, let alone suicidal."

"Two weeks and we're no closer to finding your prey." She sighed, anger draining away. "Two weeks and your mysterious source is looking mighty incompetent."

"We just missed them, you were there when we assaulted the place, and now they're on the run. The Republic is calming down, they've not sent any more wide-broadcast cries for help and no fleet has shown up to annihilate us. Honestly, this is going way better than expected. I didn't hear you complain about your share of the loot, either."

Lana shrugged. "Wasn't bad. Good we took most of their equipment, though not a single prototype was found. But even with those an army needs supplies, and since we sold theirs on the black market they must be running low."

"Always useful to have connections." He agreed easily, tapping his communicator. "All clear here, lieutenant. Move up the men."

Three squads of Chosen joined them half a minute later, their senior commander attending him for a debrief, and his men got to work with by-now familiar tools. Scanners built for mining, able to detect underground complexes with some tweaking, and small scouting droids where but a few of the devices the squads carried. The fleeing War Trust had forced them to innovate.

Morgan found the little ball-shaped machines surprisingly adorable, hundreds rising from a thick backpack one of the specialists carried, and they swept out over the ruin. Every inch would be analysed for hidden entrances, airflow and latent heat signatures, though in truth he didn't expect to find anything. Jillins had floated the idea that the Trust was using rakghoul activity to mask their own, earlier patterns had corroborated that and so here he was. But still, it would be too easy.

A week of chasing down false leads, decoys and ambushes had taught him the generals were more than capable of subterfuge. Not that they send many of the latter, not after the first few. Chosen took ambushes better than almost anything he'd ever seen, the second had actually encountered Lana and been thoroughly destroyed while the third routed the moment Alyssa and Inara had ignited their lightsabers.

"We found something, sir." One of his men called. "Looks like an unshielded barracks."

He moved over, looking at the readout the woman was displaying. A smile spread over his face as heat signatures lit up the screen. "Very good. Recall my apprentices and their men. Seems we found, if not their main base, one of their bigger ones. Here's hoping one of the generals is inside."

It wasn't exciting, waiting for backup and watching the drones seek the entrance, but at least Lana was decent company. He'd warmed to her, after a few days, and she seemed to calibrate what irritated him. Then did it anyway, because as she'd warned she got bored, but at least she kept it teasing.

That he could deal with easily enough.

"Care if I take this?" She murmured, stepping close. "It's your operation, I'll stand by that, but I could use some proper combat. Keeps me active, you know?"

Morgan shrugged. "Be my guest. Don't kill the generals, Quinn wants to have them questioned."

"And what the colonel wants, he'll get."

"Pretty much." He shook his head, aiming disappointment at her. "And here I thought you were learning. I don't like disappointing my people, especially when they're polite."

"Sometimes, Lord Caro, I don't think you're a sith at all. Then you bathe in the blood of dozens, and I get confused. Horrible trait, that. I like my men simple."

He grinned. "Sith Lords are always uncomplicated, that's common knowledge. Not like we go through horrible, life defining trauma to get this strong. That would be plain irresponsible."

They waited in amiable silence until his apprentices arrived, bringing half a hundred men with them, and Lana nodded to the uncovered entrance. "Let's hope this is the last of them."

Morgan followed her as she approached, jerking her head as tons of rock levitated to the side. It was a display of raw power that made him all the more eager to get his own project finished, though it wasn't done quite yet. Sooner than expected, though. Maybe even soon enough. Lana struck the lock keeping the uncovered door shut, thick but small, and looked back as it catapulted inwards. She sure seemed to take pleasure in demonstrating her reserves.

A flex of effort and his knives gutted the two dozen men waiting inside, as well as a squad of mounted heavy repeaters, and her lips drew into a line. "I had those."

"I'm sure you did." He answered, tone pleasant. "But so had I. Don't need to tear them apart to kill them, unlike some."

"Are you calling me a brute? I am a sith Lady, thank you very much."

"Lady of death, maybe." His mutterings went unanswered, Lana moving deeper inside. "Rude. Are you always this poorly mannered when it comes to Lords?"

"Only the ones I tolerate."

Morgan shook his head, following her as the men did him. Jaesa, Alyssa and Inara kept mostly silent and focussed as they moved with their squads, providing cover and enjoying their support. Skilled his apprentices might be, none of them were soldiers. The Chosen spotted things they did not, anticipated what they could not, and both of their skill-sets combined made for an efficient whole indeed.

He didn't have to do much as they marched through the complex, Lana's charge alone enough to break their prepared defences. He could almost feel the fear thicken as her avalanche of power was followed by his Chosen, cleanly dismantling whatever she left behind.

"Ah." Morgan activated his communicator as a realisation struck, linking to his sith ally. "They don't have an escape route. Ease up and they should surrender."

No reply came, but soon after the screaming lessened then stopped. He moved ahead of the troops, catching up to see her stare down disarming soldiers, and waved merrily. Lana grunted. "You were right."

"It happens. You, captain. Where are the generals? Also, why were they stupid enough to build a base without a backdoor?"

The man scowled at him, then seemed to reconsider before a denial even left his lips. "Deeper. No one told me there were two of you on Taris, let alone working together. As if the Fleshcrafter Lord wasn't enough. The tunnel is still under construction."

"Must have forgotten to send out a memo." Lana said flatly. "And I've fought your men before. One escaped, which means you have no excuse for your ignorance."

"They don't tell me shit."

Morgan clapped the man on the shoulder, making him recoil. He ignored it. "Probably to maintain morale. Anyway, my troops are coming any minute now. Be good and don't touch those weapons, or I'll have to come back and kill you all."

Some stepped back from their armaments, as much as the tunnels would allow, and he nodded to them. Lana shook her head but followed as he left them behind, speaking when some distance was created.

"Appealing to their honour is a fool's bet."

"Good thing I appealed to their fear, then. It won't last, of course, but a few minutes will be enough. And if your enemies think surrender will lead to death, Lana, they won't ever give up. Not a problem for a lone wolf, perhaps, but you're not that right this moment. I value my men much higher than random enemy soldiers."

She shook her head as they ducked into another corridor. "And mercy will be taken advantage of more readily than terror. It won't alway-"

He moved a split second before she did, turning as the Force screamed. The walls turned to ashes as energy whined, narrowly missing him, but one beam impacted his lower shoulder. And took the arm with it, seeming to care very little for his reinforcement or hardened skin. His knives shot towards their ambushers, both droids and men.

Ignoring the wounds came with practised ease, as did stopping the blood flow, and he took a moment to check on Lana. Everything below her left knee was gone, along with a chunk of her side, but a thick layer of Force was stemming the blood. Morgan nodded, turning his full attention to the enemy.

Which, he found, consisted solely of veterans. Those men and women that knew how to keep a lid on their emotions, backed by heavy repeaters and overlapping shields. Siantide, he assumed. Damn.

But their ambush had failed, he let none of their attacks so much as scratch him, and any remaining mercy had dried up. His knives reaped a bloody harvest as he sliced apart the war-droids, big and tough and fighting surprisingly well, and none of it was quite enough. Then he spotted his target, one general Minst, and made towards the rodian.

Which made the man run, a sensible decision. Also one he wasn't tolerating, going through the few remaining soldiers and slapping him down. Literally lashing out and making him fall, which felt pretty satisfying. "General."

"We surrender." He barked, tone hard despite his injury. It made the nine remaining soldiers pause, hesitant, before complying. "There. We read about you, Fleshcrafter Lord. You will not kill the unarmed."

His knives flashed and the soldiers died, Morgan leaning over the man and putting a correcting air to his tone. "I tend not to. A small but important difference, won't you agree? But don't fear, my new friend. You won't be joining them. Up."

The general tried to stab him the moment he did, which earned him a broken arm and an induced coma, and Morgan left him where he fell. Lana, meanwhile, had hobbled over to a section of fake corridor that was still standing, leaning against it with a sour expression. He healed her side easily enough, closing the stump instead of regrowing it. That could come later.

"Thank you."

"You'll have the leg back to full functionality by evening. I sure hope you enjoyed the show, seeing as I doubt losing a foot cripples you."

Her expression cleared, looking at him with something akin to hunger. Approval? Morgan couldn't tell. "I did. Finally a glimpse of the man who killed a Lord on Nar Shaddaa, two more on Nal Hutta. Who terrified so many nobles on Alderaan it nearly caused a political schism. Another one, at that."

"Savour it, I prefer not getting ambushed again. Those were Siantide prototypes, too, and more powerful than anticipated. If they'd aimed better, or we'd moved a little slower, no more mister and misses sith Lord."

"Arrogance. Would have been ironic to die of that having worked so hard to avoid it."

"We have a weakness for it." Morgan agreed, shaking what remained of his right arm. Since his shoulder was gone, that meant very little. "At least you just lost a foot. I'm starting to think my arms don't actually want to be attached to me."

He filled the time with more healing, waiting for his men to catch up. No more going ahead, not just the two of them. More experienced soldiers might have sniffed out the trap, something he'd just congratulated himself over for arranging with his apprentices. Arrogance indeed.

Alyssa and Inara did that thing where they got a little over protective, trying to subtly push him into the middle of the formation, and he let them with a sigh. He dragged Lana with him, because pettiness should be shared, and waved his hand when the senior lieutenant looked over for confirmation.

"This seems a bit much, no?" Lana asked, a crude but strong construct serving as a replacement foot. It made him think of telekinesis, though different in a way he couldn't quite grasp. Dark, somehow, which was interesting. "I don't think anyone has tried to protect me since before Korriban. These days they hide behind me, really."

"Best to get it out of their system. Besides, I brush them off here and I'll never hear the end of it from Quinn. Something about protective details, permanent guards and a set schedule. The man knows how to make a threat."

She raised an eyebrow. "You are a sith Lord. Threatening you is grounds for execution, assuming you don't snap his neck yourself."

"And that's exactly why I don't like unaffiliated sith near my people." He replied, shooting her a look. "Actions like that make people timid, afraid of contradicting you. So afraid they'll happily let you wander into a trap, make some giant mistake or actively work to undermine you. I prefer my people effective, and if that comes with a slightly annoying habit or two I'll deal."

"You'd know better than me."

He shrugged, she didn't appear to actually be serious about her suggestion and summoning patience wasn't too hard. Neither was clearing the facility, after they'd sent the unconscious general back with an escort, and he wondered why. Maybe the ambush had consumed the last of their resistance, or the estimation of their numbers hadn't been correct after all.

When they located the general he found both to be true, though it also made him think a number last left with the missing officer. He had two aides with him, both unarmed, and was drinking something strong from an old looking canteen. "There he is, the conquering sith Lord. Or Lords, I should say. Always a bad idea to insult one of your ranks. General Durant of the Republic Strategic High Command, at your service."

"Morgan." He introduced, looking around. "No last trap? A suicide plan, blowing us all sky high? Not sure that would actually work, really, but I'm done underestimating your commitment."

"Ha. We used the last of our high yield explosives four days ago, attempting to remove a rakghoul infestation. This planet, honestly. Two more days and the escape tunnel would have been completed, but such is life."

Jaesa cleared her throat, speaking when Morgan looked at her. "He's telling the truth."

"Of course I am. We fought, we lost. Now I rest."

"Not quite yet." Morgan nodded, soldiers moving forth to secure the general. "Where is general Faraire?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. Always good to keep information need to know, especially when being hunted, and I surely did not. Tell me, sith. What do you think of our weapons?"

He shook his stump, making the general examine it. "Powerful. Not to worry, it'll grow back soon enough."

"Truly? What monsters you sith are, how far above us mortal folk. Jedi Masters are much the same, of course. Once witnessed a pair of them stabilise fifteen thousand men, an entire front of battle going from a fighting retreat to soaring victory. But you are not here to ask me about past deeds."

"I'm not here to ask you anything at all." Morgan shrugged. "I'm here to capture, interrogate and kill."

"Oh? And why would you want to be doing that?"

"Because otherwise someone very powerful kills me and mine instead."

Durant grimaced sympathetically. "Unworthy superiors are a plague on any soldier. Let us get on with it, then. No sense haunting an empty temple any further."

"Actually, one thing. Two weeks you've been on the run, yet you only tried contacting the wider Republic once. That we could tell, true, but no one has come. No fleet to rescue you, no secret squad of jedi to fell the big bad sith Lord. It doesn't seem logical to try once and give up."

"It does if you consider the fact we do not wish to escalate. Republic ships would mean Imperial interest, jedi begetting sith. More attention to the project, more chances some Darth becomes curious about what we do here. It can not, could not, fall into Imperial hands. I voted to destroy every prototype, but Minst convinced Faraire he could use them to kill you. How he did when he was the one bringing us all in danger with that distress signal is beyond me. How typical of the man."

He was led away as Morgan jerked his head, Inara looking around. "Doesn't look like a temple to me."

"Who knows." Jaesa shrugged. "Taris was an ecumenopolis, doubt it was made of wood and brick. Religion tends to be strange on a world with trillions of souls."

"Focus. This is still enemy territory. Lieutenant, secure this place. I want every inch of it scoured for leads. Alyssa, Inara, assist him. Jaesa, back to base with the general. I want both him and Minst checked and rechecked. Send your report to Quinn. When you're done with this place, after securing all the prototypes and other useful material, collapse it into dust."

People moved to obey as he took a final look around, strangely pleased. Three out of four, their leader in the wind. Bad if he actually cared about completing his objective.

Very good for buying for a few more days.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

She raised an eyebrow as Vette stalked inside, displeasure all but written over her face. The twi'lek nodded and threw herself on the couch. "You're here a lot now."

"Morgan asked if we could go over the mission, see what we could have done to avoid the ambush. And do so again in the future, of course." Lana looked at her leg, testing its weight. A teasing grin manifested. "Not that we're worse for wear. Good with his hands, our Lord Caro."

Vette's emotions twitched, making her grin deepen, and she decided she rather liked the twi'lek. Easy to tease, dangerous enough to add some spice to the whole affair, threatened to poison her if she stole her man. If the girl was born with the Force she'd have been a terror unmatched. "I was informed. Sorry to hear you lost a foot, must have been horrible. I can't blame anyone for shutting down after something horrific like that, even in the midst of battle."

And then there was that. Someone unafraid to spar, and one who didn't result to war when pushed too far. Yet. "Admiring, not shutting down. He can be quite enchanting when the last of his patience leaves."

"Enchanting is a word for it. Terrifying has been used in the past. To be avoided at all cost, by some. To each their own."

Lana scoffed. "As if you don't find it appealing. The strength and power, all that wrath chained and bound. And when it comes out to play, oh yes. Enchanting is exactly the word I would use."

"What are we, sixteen?" Her tone was condescending, face bland. "Gossiping about boys like teenagers."

"Would you prefer to gossip about girls instead?"

Vette scoffed. "You swing both ways, because of course you do. At this point I'm starting to think it's the new standard."

"No one lives the lives we do and comes out vanilla. Stress relief is vital, in all aspects of life, and those with higher degrees of strain seek more extreme forms of release. It is nothing to be ashamed of."

"You don't know the first thing about what would make me ashamed. Or angry, for that matter, so cut it out."

"No? So I suppose seducing your boyfriend is fine, then?"

A shot of mirth went through the twi'lek, catching her off guard. Vette grinned wider. "If you can, Lady Beniko. If. I wouldn't count on your natural charm."

"Spoken with more arrogance than a Lord." Lana knew that was weak, and by the way her grin grew satisfied, Vette knew it too. She missed something, something important to their relationship, and she hated missing something. "Well, they say experience is the only true teacher."

More annoyance, less well suppressed this time, but no actual fear. It appeared she was truly unworried about her succeeding, though irritated at the assumption. "I'll lend you a shoulder when he politely rejects you."

"Perhaps a different strategy, then." She shifted, posture going from relaxed to alluring. "Men do get jealous too, or so I've heard. I wonder what will happen if I seduce you, not him."

A light wave of seduction allure, as she had taken to calling it, and her point should be made. Not something she indulged in often, though fun enough to learn. She knew stronger stuff, able to evoke emotion and twist the senses, but this wouldn't do more than make her seem attractive. Messing with the twi'lek actual mind would probably get her attacked.

It made her pause, then, when it fell apart without doing a single thing. Vette tilted her head. "Did you just try to use the Force on me? Silly girl. Like Morgan didn't make me immune to that a lifetime ago."

"What?" Lana winced internally, knowing that word alone would lose her the match, but that seemed actually impossible. A proper look, testing thoroughly, made her sigh in relief. "Oh, like that. Not immunity, just resistant. Wait, no, that's still pretty much impossible. How many secrets does that man have?"

"More than you, it would seem. And if, by some miracle, you did succeed at seducing me, I'm pretty sure he'll just kill you. You'll get one good, last, look at his enchanting self before he spaces your body into the void. I'm good, not sure I'm commit-suicide-for-a-single-night good. Besides, it would break his heart. Which means I'd have to kill you, and the whole thing would just become an enormous mess."

Right, well. She knew a loss when she saw one. "I'm sure I could fend him off long enough to escape. Or just kill him, whichever. Regardless, Morgan seems to be running late. I'll go find him, give you some space."

Vette smirked as she retreated, and Lana knew she would have to come up with something to pay her back. Still, learning more was always good. Not the most closely guarded secret, clearly, but still one more piece of the puzzle solved. One more step towards understanding.

Wandering around the base let her ruminate on her new discovery, ignoring whoever came across her. Many did, all got out of her way. The Chosen with a touch of respect, officers with nods and salutes. Privates with hurried steps, sith with a light bow.

Sith? Lana looked back, watching the pair move on. Now there was an idea. "Alyssa, Inara. Hold."

"Lady." Inara bowed smoothly, turning to her. "How can we be of service?"

"I wish to spar, yet your Master has made himself scarce. Come, let us get to know one another. Properly, that is."

Alyssa hesitated, if only briefly, and her posture grew resistant. "Lord Caro has not authorised such, Lady. It would be poor form should something go wrong."

"Fortunately for us, then, that I am not asking. Follow."

They followed, falling in behind her as she made her way to the training rooms. Well, room, technically speaking. One of the walls could be folded to create multiple smaller spaces, a feature she hadn't seen anyone use. It was rare more than one happened to be there at all, rarer still when they needed separate rooms to train.

She usually made do outdoors, in nature or secluded alcoves, but a proper facility had its perks. Like equipment and padded flooring, though increased resilience meant bruises happened infrequently. It would help the other two.

Alyssa and Inara exchanged hesitant glances as Lana summoned a training saber, infusing it with the Force. Then, to her surprise, they followed suit. Less quickly, and the bond was weaker, but they did. Still, that was why she was here. To gauge what they knew, what Morgan had taught them, and learn more about the man in the process.

"Defend against me as I learn of your skills. If you think you have an opportunity to retaliate, don't hesitate to use it." She pushed off, rushing the pureblood and bringing her weapon up in a simple strike. Rudimentary enough she should know how to defend against it, though still quick. Alyssa blocked, which was the wrong move, and she punished it by swiping her leg. Or tried to, being forced to step back as Inara aimed for her head. "Better. Never wait for permission to attack."

She raised an eyebrow as the Force surged, a wave of pressure crashing towards her. Stronger than either should be capable of, she took the time to analyse it before her shield absorbed it, and she tilted her head. Relatively crude, all things considered, but the fact they could combine power that effectively was interesting.

But even doubled she was a sith Lord, her defences weathering the attack with ease. She retaliated with the same, gripping Inara's shield and grinding against it. Tearing and crushing until it broke under the strain, to show her tricks were just that. Tricks. It annoyed her, then, that they had another one.

Alyssa's presence bloomed inside Inara, reinforcing the shield, and the pureblood closed the distance before it could be broken. Then the same strange, fused presence assaulted her mind, pricking and poking her mental shield in a dozen places, and Lana stepped back before they could put her in a bad position.

Then, annoyance turning into grudging admiration, she kicked Inara into the wall. She made a pained groan as the pureblood pressed the attack, making her shake her head. Buying time for her fellow to stand or not, she had little chance alone. Not that, Lana noticed, she needed to buy much. Inara shook her head once and jumped back into the fight, no worse for wear.

Right, fleshcrafters. Lord Caro had the annoying habit of outright ignoring attacks to score wounds of his own, healing whatever damage he took in seconds. His apprentices weren't even close to that level, but she could see the beginnings of it. More durable, using quick, efficient attacks to maintain reserves. Fighting like their Master, though adapted to make better use of their comparatively greater reservoirs.

A surge of power and both were blown back, raw strength overcoming shields and making them land hard. "You fight well, little ones. Now show me how you endure."

Lana pulled every inch of skill out of them as she pushed them further and harder. Wounds started collecting as reserves ran low, their movements slowing as reinforcement consumed too much power. She kept pressing, rather easily outlasting them both, and when Inara dropped and didn't get up she focused on Alyssa alone.

It was a few moves later, the pureblood desperately fending off increasingly slower attacks, that the door opened. Lana finished her pattern and Alyssa crumbled, joining her girlfriend on the floor, before turning towards Morgan. He did not look particularly pleased.

His eyes flickered to his apprentices as they stood, taking long seconds. "Are you able to heal on your own?"

"Lord." Inara bowed, grimacing. "Yes, Lord."

He turned to her, making Lana lazily raise an eyebrow. "And I sure hope you got their permission, Beniko."

"We are grateful for the opportunity." Alyssa covered, their Lord not seeming to believe a second of it. "Really. Thank you, Lady. It was most educational."

She nodded to them as they shuffled past their Master, closing the door. Lana leveled a look at her host. "You shouldn't treat them like glass. We grow when we are pressured, when we are forced to adapt and improve."

"And you should not forget they are mine to teach." He countered, snapping one of the sabers to hand. "Treat others with respect, Lana, and they will return the favour. They would have agreed to a spar regardless, had you asked and not demanded."

"Someone came running to tattle on me?"

He gave her an unimpressed snort. "I am notified when you order my people around, yes. I appreciate the fact you wish to help train them, do not do so again without my permission. But you wished to spar, yes? Settled for my apprentices instead? Let us spar."

The Force screamed as she scrambled back, the air whining as his saber passed inches from her face. His eyes seemed to nearly shine as erratic, abnormally strong attacks came her way, Lana doing her utmost to dodge.

But she had to block two exchanges later, dearly wishing she hadn't the moment their weapons touched. Her body strengthening reinforcement failed to do anything but crumble, the blow clipping her shoulder, and she was thrown against the far wall.

"I appreciate the opportunity to practise this." He informed her lightly, rolling his own shoulder as if stiff. "A good trick, I would say, but one in need of practice. I'm sure you'll adapt."

Throwing a large, powerful shove his way bought her time, though he bled much of the power before it could reach him, and she abandoned all thoughts of attacking. Which, as she adjusted her style to favour avoidance, allowed her to notice the flaws.

He was strong, yes. Quick in a way she found hard to predict. He also overextended many of his blows, struggling to adhere to his normal efficient movements, and failed to throw up a guard as her saber struck his ribs. Then his hand shot out and connected to her jaw, shattering like it was made of glass.

Lana staggered back, blinking rapidly to clear her vision, but Morgan hadn't followed up. Could have, dealing another strike that would have incapacitated her, but instead looked at his hand. She straightened, resisting the urge to touch her face.

His hand was broken, clearly, bone jutting out every which way and flesh having been stripped clean. He healed as he examined it, Lord Caro shaking it when he was done. Then he looked at her and stepped closer, a silent apology in his eyes. "That would have killed pretty much anyone else, even if it fucked my hand. Here."

Her jaw knitted itself back together as he touched it, blood rolling up her face and being absorbed back inside. A decidedly strange feeling, though not one she was going to complain about.

"I'm made of sterner stuff than your apprentices." She said. "But I'd prefer it if you don't kill me by accident."

He toned it down as they continued, which, combined with her own increasing familiarity, let her score some points. But it remained a tool he was getting better at using, one that had the raw might he normally lacked. All he really needed was experience, to incorporate it properly in his fighting style, and she shuddered to think how an unprepared opponent would deal with it.

Not at all, she concluded. He smiled awkwardly as he ripped his foot back out of the steel, having gone straight through the reinforced wall. Lana snorted and rushed, pushing him off balance, and enjoyed setting the pace for the next few seconds.

Until her mind rebelled and her hands shook, nearly dropping her damned weapon. Morgan put his to her neck, breathing in and out steadily. "Don't assume you've seen all of my tricks just yet."

"I would never." She emptied half her reserves to pick him up and fling him away, overwhelming his shield no matter the skill, and grinned as he glared at her lightly. "But don't forget you have a rather crippling flaw yourself."

"Trust me, I'm aware. Fixing it proves difficult."

Lana shrugged. "Sooner or later a Darth is going to try and kill you, be it Baras or another, and they won't care how difficult it has been. You either have enough power to contend or they pull you limb from limb, never having to draw their weapon."

"I'm optimistic." He answered humorously, walking over. He fixed her injury as he had his own, nodding to the door. "And as much as I would like to continue our practice, I was engaged in another matter. I would be happy enough to continue later? We could combine it with that talk we need to have."

"As long as you don't get snippy when I expect those lesser in rank to obey."

Morgan snorted, returning the saber and walking to the door. "It's not me you hurt with those actions. But you are a sith Lord, my guest, and you will be treated with all the respect that entails. Don't worry about the wall, I'll have someone fix it."

Lana cracked her neck as the door clicked shut, casting a look around. They had rather destroyed the place, she would admit. Another advantage to practising in nature. No one cared if a few boulders and trees were ruined, save perhaps the animals. Those usually got over it.

Another few minutes of idling and she left herself, ensuring she didn't bump into her host again. Not only would that be awkward, which she would admittedly enjoy, but because she was snooping. Or, if anyone asked, taking an interest in base security. Just in case they were attacked, you know? Never could be too safe.

And the nice thing was, there were only two people that could block her from doing so. One had just left, the other was one colonel Malavai Quinn. Not a man she'd spoken to yet, busy as he was, which suited her just fine. Less chance of running into him.

Of course, pushing it would be a bad idea. It had been made more than clear people wouldn't hesitate to inform Morgan if she did something out of bounds, though not stop her themselves, and the point he'd just made was crystal.

If it came to a real fight, a proper fight, he'd win.

But she wasn't going to do anything that rash. Just a stroll to their prison, taking a look at the generals they'd captured. A perfectly normal thing to want to do, really.

It wasn't a pretty place, she admitted. Not intimidating or purposely rough, either. Just fast, sturdy construction made from prefabricated parts, allowing secure holding cells in a temporary base. Still not as strong as the battleship he had taken as his own, of course. No doubt they were headed there soon enough.

Then a complication. Jaesa, the fallen jedi, was speaking with one of them. The cowardly ambusher, Minst. The rodian wasn't saying much, glaring at her stubbornly, but the girl seemed uncaring about what he had to say. A frightful power, that one. Lana was glad her own motives were pure. Selfish, maybe, but pure.

"Ma'am?" She looked, a Chosen nodding to her. "Can we be of assistance?"

"Not as such, no. Simply stretching my legs, thought to check on the security of your containment facility."

The guards stance tightened, voice even. "Lord Caro and the colonel ordered us to secure the prisoners, ma'am, and that is what we will do."

Prickly lot, those Chosen. Didn't much like anyone doubting their Lord. Lana shrugged, waving the guard away, and approached Jaesa. As she did she noticed the soldier speaking, muted behind their helmets but just about audible. Notifying people she was here, no doubt. Great.

"Where did general Faraire and his detachment go?" The rodian didn't answer, shoulders set. "How did you communicate with general Faraire? Did they leave with more Siantide prototypes? How many men did he take with him?"

The general still glared, tone biting. "You're a jedi defector, Republic traitor and a disgrace to the oaths you swore."

"My former Master took a young, impressionable child and promised her glory. Adventure. Spend the next few years turning her into a weapon, his weapon, for his own personal vendetta. Did general Faraire and his detachment leave the planet? Did they take Siantide prototypes with them?"

More silence, and if the accusation bothered the girl she didn't show it. Her head turned, noticing her. "Do not let me interrupt."

"It's fine. I have what I need."

Minst grunted. "I gave you nothing."

"You gave plenty. Freeze him and send him to the ship." The guards obeyed, Lana tilting her head in curiosity. Jaesa waved her hand. "Send in Durant. He knows something, I feel it. Bring in one of the colonel's interrogators to help me narrow down the questioning. And not the woman, this time. The complaint I filed about her is the first, last and only warning I'll give."

"Problem?"

"Not anymore. How can I be of assistance, my Lady?"

Always with the polite, distant greetings. Not at all how their own Lord was met, and Lana took a moment. She'd have to meditate on the flash of jealousy later. "You can't. I was only curious about the prisoners, see if they spilled their leader's location. It seems not."

"Not yet, no. I remain convinced someone knows something."

"You can tell when they are lying, then? Or is it more than that?"

Jaesa bowed her head. "Apologies, Lady. Please refer any such questions to my Master."

"Only an idle curiosity, as I said." Lana shrugged. "I won't take any more of your time."

The woman got back to it, Lana leaving her be. A waste of effort, really, but one strange inconsistency. Why freeze the generals if they were going to be executed on the ship? It would be safer, marginally so, but it seemed a waste. She left, making her way to the armoury and storage building. The base was small enough having separate spaces for them was redundant, though it made her task harder. Armouries were guarded, after all.

Some social engineering, then. Easy enough. The man on duty saluted as she entered, secured behind thick, transparent plastic, and she spoke as if impatient. "I need something to contain biological matter in the field, keeping it stable. Carbonite, if you have it. Normal flash-freezing agents will suffice."

"Carbonite-freezing materials are restricted, ma'am." The guard answered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "I'd have to get the colonel's permission."

Lana clicked her tongue, face leaking irritation. "Then a normal agent will suffice, I'm in a hurry."

"We don't carry any, ma'am." She almost felt bad about the way he panicked, rapidly glancing at the shelves behind him. Not a Chosen, that one, and he was missing more than just their strength. "I. I can contact the colonel on a priority line, won't take me but a moment."

"Forget it."

She whirled around, the man not daring to interrupt, and used the Force to close the door behind her. Her face relaxed as she made for the exit, wishing for some space to think. The fact it would corroborate any story the clerk could tell was a bonus.

Because if they only had carbonite, which no sane person used to secure a prisoner for a few days, then they were planning to secure them long term. Which was not what her host had said, nor what his mission here entailed.

It was, some would no doubt say, treasonous. Disobeying a direct order from his own Master, a Darth, and withholding high value targets from the wider Empire.

Lana scowled as she stalked the ruin, a few minutes later, and threw a glare as some insect buzzed loudly near her head.

What in the Emperor's name was he playing at?