The Reckoning

The full moon on Iego had a unique feeling, compared to other worlds. It magnified the dark of the night, giving an ethereal atmosphere to the sea shore, turning the water and the rocky beaches into an almost spiritual realm, beyond present, and even past and future. To Baska, it was calming, a quality that her tortured but sharp mind could appreciate. There was a stillness contrasting with the usual wreckage her inner disturbia could birth. The wind hadn't quieted that night though; twisting and slapping against the tall blonde's body as she roamed the coast on foot. The temperature was colder than usual, even for a full moon; and she hadn't barely dressed for the weather, despite having had her residence there for over a decade. It mattered little for she could sustain much worse conditions. The current ones gave her an almost nonchalant reminder of being alive.

Baska sank her hands into the pocket of her long red duster, a drop of vivid color in the muted tones of the full moon. She had traveled across the galaxy for most of her life, never staying anywhere long enough to call it home except here, hidden from the rest of the worlds she had seen. It had been her refuge, although she hated the notion of a shelter. The whole concept left a sore taste in her mouth. Too many people liked the coziness and comfort that mostly hid cowardice. Some were exception to the rule; but it was one of the many reasons why she held respect for so few individuals. True power required intelligence and looking beyond appearance, beyond established systems.

That was why Baska had little patience for politics, and gladly stayed on the edges or behind the curtains of any grand schemes. She understood that it was the playground for some people, including intelligent and valuable persons; but it wasn't how she operated. And yet, she had felt a strange pull of the Force lately, as if she was going to see her life go into new and uncharted directions. She hadn't been able to put her finger on it yet, but it was unsettling, and somewhat intriguing.

She was wary that such a new chapter might see her settle somewhere else across the galaxy. It felt unnatural to leave Iego behind her in a way. It wasn't a betrayal; for she had lived as viciously authentically as possible her whole life, only growing in power as her soul had been ripped apart over and over again, so every time she could come out of the fire stronger and smarter.

It nevertheless felt as turning a very long page of her life.

What had started as a hideout for Denart and her, where they would raise their family, had become a tomb too soon. It had eventually become the outward fortress of her still bleeding soul. She had built her vaults, learned so much about Sith history, turning to the past to fortify her present and bury stubborn roots for the future. Nobody had set foot in her residence since she had lost her family, even before she had become a Sith, embracing her true calling as a Force-imbued predator, beyond a mere bounty hunter.

She would never forsake this place; but she was ready to travel to new horizons, and she had to be ready for wherever those might be.

But when the time came, she wouldn't travel alone.

Baska's steps eventually led her to the two tombs near her house. The two engraved headstones marked their inhabitants' identities. The graves were nestled near the beginning of the rocky slope upon which the Sith's residence was built; and they were just far enough from the shore that the tides couldn't disturb them at any time. The winds had eroded some of the stone after a dozen years; but they still stood strong and proud, as they shall. They were testimony to a disrupted past, lives cut short by a twist of fate.

The blonde took a knee before the graves, her blue gaze fastening on the engraved names.

Denart Baschorn, and Heyrina Tankreyd-Baschorn.

No tears threatened to fall. She had shed enough; and the pain had only made her stronger. Or so, she had convinced herself, for if she had been honest, she would have admitted more willingly to the destructive loop entrapping her heart. It was often hidden beneath layers of power and achievements. Some times, it was dulled through sexual rapture; but the lone wolf was most often that: a lone Sith who had only stopped swearing off connection in the recent time.

Her expectations for people to be admitted in her life on any remotely equal footing were immensely high; and she had no intention of lowering the bar. Ever.

"Wherever you are, I hope I still make you proud, my loves," she confessed in a whisper.

She was going to leave Iego behind for the most part; but they were coming with her.

"The past gives you greater power over the present. History allows for deeper manipulation of your enemy."

Darth Mokosh stared at her master, half tempted to tune out from the usual ramble. Koron Ageros might be a vast source of knowledge; for she had learned so much under his tutelage; but she had begun doubting his arrogance was as fully founded as he wanted her to believe.

She had grown stronger, though she knew he could still devastate her anew if she sought to overpower him yet.

"Is that why you never told me where you were from, Master? Is that a vulnerability to you?"

She felt the rapid shift of energy as he stared at her. She had hit a nerve, moreso than expected. She liked it.

He didn't retaliate as she had briefly expected. She almost felt a hint of curiosity from him.

"Do you think you can best me, Baska? Is that the reason behind your childish goading?"

The blonde smirked, feeling emboldened, as she took one tiny step closer to him and his workstation.

"I am not the one dodging questions, Master."

She felt tendrils of dark energy float closer to her, twisting and turning but not going beyond a mere jolt to her skin. She knew they could do much worse. She had experienced it countless times over the years.

"You already know enough about me. And not all of us find misplaced pride in coming from an insignificant planet."

Mokosh knew that in her right mind she should end the conversation. She chose otherwise, not for the first time, and not for the last time.

"You were a scientist before becoming a Sith. Insignificant planets rarely breed such things. So you may not only be dodging the question, but lie for your own protection."

She had barely ended her sentence that the torrent of energy overwhelmed her, tossing her body to the ground. Getting knocked out would be the easy way out, which was why her last organized thoughts were that her Master would prolong the punishment for a long time before he let her fall unconscious.

A couple of days later, Baska had gathered appropriate containers in which she would be able to transport her late husband's and daughter's remains. She would give them new graves on Hapes. Having visited so many sites of powers as a Sith, she had almost longed for them to still haunt her, beyond the realms of her thoughts. Most of the time, she was relieved to know they were at peace on the other side, for she had never felt their presence in any tangible way. The way she had sustained their existence in her dreams and ruminations was enough, maybe too much in a way.

As a predator, she understood patience and calculation, stalking your prey until the right moment to strike. As a Sith, she recognized the potency of passion and how it could break chains. As a Tankreyd, she was too fierce by many people' standards. One way or the other, she had never let go of Denart and Heyrina; they were cornerstones to who she had become.

She carefully placed the larger container next to Denart's tomb, for she would begin by unearthing him. She rolled up her sleeves and grabbed her tools. She wondered whether she should have felt sacrilegious doing such a thing; but she experienced none of it. It was the right decision.

She was careful as she freed Denart's skeleton to which shreds of fabric still clung. Her gestures were as tender as they were precise. Time felt suspended as she moved her husband's remains into the new container. She knew that they would undoubtedly move at some point, unless she had chosen a much more advanced type of container. She mused over it as she stared at his bones, eyes transfixed, her body yearning to walk down memory lanes of forlorn days.

Too little, too late.

Too far gone.

She groaned, shrugging the counterproductive sorrow away. She had more to do.

Baska left Denart's new repose open for the time being.

Brushing beads of sweat from her forehead, as the late morning light ricocheted over the ocean, placating heat upon her.

She opened the other container, much smaller, appropriate for a stillborn heiress.

The blonde turned towards Heryina's tomb, her next breath got caught in her throat. She instinctively rested a hand over her abdomen, her clothing concealing the large scars covering it, a lifelong reminder of the little girl lying under the ground, right in front of her.

With an almost feral growl, Baska threw herself back into the task, and without further hesitation, began to unearth Heyrina. Her movements were slow and steady at first, eventually becoming frantic as she kept digging. She soon tossed the tools aside, her bare hands clawing at the rocks and sand and dirt. She didn't register how the ground was cutting into her flesh. She kept digging until she couldn't deny reality.

Her daughter's grave was empty.

She woke up in tremendous pain, her whole body feeling like a war zone. Fragment-like memories festered to the surface; but she felt in a haze. She vaguely heard the nurse and doctors speaking gibberish to her. She tried to ask about her daughter; but words couldn't escape her parched throat. She weakly tried to grab at a nurse, wanting to see Heyrina; but they would give her the cold shoulder treatment until she managed to plead enough. Then she saw her little one, lifeless as she should have never been. She needed to hold her just once.

Then the loop replayed. It was always slightly different, playing on every possible levels, from physical pain, to nightmarish visions of her stillborn baby. The agony always ran all the way down to her bones, threatening to brittle them into ashes, just like her soul felt.

The thing was that as painful as it was, she had got used to it, as much as a mortal could at least.

On her knees in the middle of the ancient courtyard, she shrugged under the burning sun. She hissed and glared at her master. It had only been months since he had found her at the detour of some remote planet. She had had but a glimpse and taste of what the power of the dark side was; and she wouldn't stop until the day she possessed mastery over it.

Koron Argenos was towering over her, seemingly undisturbed by the whispers from spirits or by the placating heat. He looked merely bored with her, which she knew wasn't a good sign.

"Resisting the assault and going through the motions is merely a starting point. You are pathetic."

She cringed at the reprimand. The worst was that she couldn't blame him. She did feel pathetic; but she had difficulties figuring out what next steps he was expecting of her.

"Do you want to see your daughter again?"

She couldn't help the sardonic laugh that escaped her lips.

"We're Sith. We're not magicians, Master."

She felt his invisible grip on her throat.

"What do you know of the power of the dark side? You're barely scratching the surface."

She wanted to retort but air was becoming scarce in her lungs.

"If you were that powerful, you'd have raised my daughter from the dead. You'd have found ways to use her against me, better than simple mental puppet tricks," she snapped into his mind.

She had expected immediate punishment, which would likely last well into the evening. Breaking her apart to force her to stand anew had been her lot in life, since she had attached herself to the Sith Master.

Much to her surprise, he let go of her, and she collapsed, catching her breath. The next instant, the mental assault and nerve-wreaking visions started again, with renewed ferocity. It went deeper, creepier, faster, tempo and viciousness varying to keep her guessing.

She realized he had been going easy on her.

She had taunted him.

She had dared him to desecrate her daughter's remains.

There was no doubt in Baska's mind that her late master had been the grave robber. Brash and desperate like a wounded animal, she hadn't thought straight in the early days of her training. She had latched herself onto the Sith Master, relishing the torture of the training, as to do something with her life, to survive against all odds. She had needed the strength; but she hadn't really had her head on her shoulders during the haze that was the year following Denart's and Heyrina's deaths.

She also had had no idea or care about the fact Koron Ageros was well versed in Sith alchemy, with a penchant for the study of necromancy, in part inspired by his background as a biochemical scientist prior to his embracing of the Sith ways.

How had he even found out about her lair on Iego? How had he been able to sneak in there, exhume her daughter's corpse and take it off-world, without her ever noticing?

How could she have been so blind? So ignorant?

Fists clenched in her lap, she knew.

It had taken her almost a decade of thorough study, unending trials, and willful ordeals, to be strong enough to kill her mentor. She had paid in full to earn her power. The growth and pain it had required had been tremendous. Somewhere in the midst of it, she had regained command of her mind and emotions, enough to know when to observe and when to strike.

That first year had been full of mistakes; but she had never realized how severe until now.

Anger unleashed from the depths of her soul. Dark energy pulsated from Baska, destroying the two headstones in a single blast, all the way to carve a hole into the rocky formation behind where they had stood.

Willing herself to a standing position, the Sith Master stood silent, glaring at the empty tomb one last time.

She would uncover the truth, no matter how long it would take her to succeed.

The next hours became a blur in which Baska's sanity held only by the thread of her undying resolve.

She had stormed to the vaults ensconced beneath the residence, safe in the basement. Much of her collection of artifacts and old tomes gathered in the last dozen years remained untouched. What she needed was all that had belonged to her late master. She brought everything upstairs, piling the handful of holocrons and notes she had retrieved on the bare floor.

The blonde sat before them, trying to find method in the madness. She didn't know where to start. She didn't know whether she would find any answer in what she had snatched from her master's personal belongings after killing him. She had emptied his familiar lair from everything relevant to her own interest, before burning the place to the ground. She had wanted to leave no trace of his existence, as a way to assert her dominance over his legacy.

Truth be told, she hadn't necessarily studied his records in absolute depth; for the last couple of years had seen her pursue other objectives. Only recently had she felt the pull towards investigating where his other lairs might have been, for she knew she was missing a few. He wasn't the kind of man to settle for a single place, which might leave him exposed. He had been too secretive for such foolishness.

She hated to admit it; but what she knew about her late mentor was scant compared to what she needed to know now.

During a recent trip to Bal'demnic with fellow Sith Dalethria, she had uncovered, much by the will of the darkness, abandoned notes from her master. She still didn't know how it had been possible, save for the spirits that had haunted the place. She believed, based on another journal she had in her possession, that his first visit in the ruins had been during his education, when just as she had once been, he hadn't been ready to tackle all trials placed in his way.

She went through these earlier notes, finding references to his past as a scientist. Biochemists were no rarity in the galaxy, and Baska was no scientist herself. It was but a lost star in a nebula.

Frustration rose within her, threatening to take over; but she harnessed her anger instead. A silent roar reverberated through her skull as she pressed on through her readings. She tried to find cross references, anything that could lead her somewhere useful. She hadn't even known his birth name, which she believed was different from the alias he had lived under as a Sith. While she had never forsaken her birth name, simply living on the fringes, she knew that it wasn't uncommon, and not just for Sith.

It felt the more she was reading, the less she knew. She felt like everything was spinning out of control, as her words had so many years ago.

Heyrina stepped in quietly inside the veranda. The little girl pursed her lips as the wind slammed the glass door close, surprisingly not shattering. She shrugged it off, and returned her attention to the piles of items surrounding her mother. She didn't remember having seen the room in such a mess. Normally her mother kept her research downstairs, in the vaults in which she wasn't allowed to freely roam.

The young blonde, Baska's spitting image, watched as her mother had seemingly dozed off. She wondered for a brief moment whether she was meditating; but something was off, letting her think exhaustion had overwhelmed the older Tankreyd. She wasn't used to seeing her mother so distraught; but it wasn't the first time either.

She walked over to her mother and sat besides her. She reached out to look at different items, many of the journals being beyond her comprehension. She got lost perusing through notes, feeling the distinct pull of the frightening puppet master that had pulled strings in mother's and daughter's lives for years.

With a long sigh, she eventually put the items back into the semi-scattered pile on the floor.

Heyrina felt a subtle shift. Realizing her mother was awake, she turned her face to meet her gaze.

"It's not me you'll find there, mother."

Baska's eyes shot open. A cold shiver traveled down her spine as she looked around her, almost expecting to see her daughter by her side, just as she had seen her in her dreams moments ago. It had been a few months since she had been having visions of Heyrina at various ages, which had been puzzling her. She remembered them well, and not just because most of them repeated themselves, some patterns emerging, some scattered visions leaving her more confused than cleverer.

Heyrina's words about not finding her "there," wherever that might be, didn't sit well with the Sith Master. She had felt on an endless hunt, and this appeared to confirm her understanding.

What if the first step wasn't to focus on Heyrina but on her late master? He had been the mastermind behind all of this. Gaining a deeper knowledge of the man who had molded her in the ways of the dark side should be her current objective. It was a painful decision, for all Baska wanted, was to figure out what had happened to her daughter, even when her hope to find anything else than her remains was faint enmeshed with terror at the possibilities.

A true predator would have her priorities in order. That was exactly what Baska needed to do if she wanted to get the answers she was seeking.

She closed her mind for a moment, mentally going over the other items she had retrieved from her master's lair back in the day, but nothing else came to mind. She had left all that seemed useless behind. While it was tempting to bemoan a possible blindness for something that could help her now, it would only be a waste of time and energy. She couldn't afford this either.

So, she went through everything again, even the lengthy earlier notes on scientific projects, which mostly went over her head. She was looking for signs, any trail she could follow to figure out who her master had been before a Sith. It took tedious hours and extended focus, but she eventually had a few notes jotted down, with several names, people, places, and what might be some special project.

It was difficult to know when those dated back to, and it was a tall order to hope for any of those names to pull anything useful; but it was all she had.

Without further ado, she sent everything to her cousin, hoping that the pirate would be able to find anything via her network.

It was Baska's best option. It was her only one.

It was morning again by the time Baska woke up, lying on the floor. Her concept of time had shifted and faded since she had discovered her daughter's grave emptied. She was still wearing her dirty clothes from the digging work. With a groan, she forced herself to stand up and go clean up. It would do her no good to just let herself go. While fate and the dark side had made sure her resilience went above and beyond normal, it didn't mean she was more than human. And neglecting to sustain and replenish her strength was outright idiocy.

She heard her comlink beep while she was in the fresher. Despite the physical yearning of rushing to it, in hope it was Alienor, she finished the task at hand. Getting dressed again, she walked up to the device by her bed once ready. The message was indeed from her cousin, which was a relief, although she didn't know yet how fruitful Alienor's research was.

Unsurprisingly, most of the names had pulled nothing. It still stung.

Baska kept going through what her cousin had sent. Two names were attached to a mining company, one the name of a transport ship, and the other the name of an employee, now deceased. Another name was of a civilian settlement on a planet where those mining companies had done extensive work, and where they were still under contract.

This was minimal information to work with; but it was all she had. Having a destination with no name was still a starting point.

It had been years since a hunt had taken Baska to imperial territory.

Now that Baska had a destination, she needed to prepare for a trip that would take an indefinite amount of time. She didn't know what to expect once she would be on site. She still had very little to work with, although she was planning to do more research on the planet and its history. The fact that multiple mining companies were working there according to Alienor likely meant that finding non-classified information might provide her with a better idea of what might be going on there.

She sorely wished she had her late master's birth name, because it would make her quest easier. She knew better than to expect such sheer luck though. As always, she would have to work for it, as she had done with everything in life since she was a child. Her cousin had inquired whether she could offer more help; and Baska had new allies she could turn to among her peers. Yet she knew this mission was hers and nobody else's.

The Sith Master was already mentally going through the check lists to prepare for her upcoming trip, when something hit her.

She made her way outside, walking down the terrace, all the way down to the open graves, and the container in which Denart's remains lied, waiting for transportation to its new home in the near future.

Baska stared at her husband's bones, an uncanny impression shadowing her soul.

She would eventually build a home elsewhere, for she held for certainty that there was a new journey awaiting her. She would continue rebuilding. She wasn't going to give up on the new perspectives and loyalties fate had placed upon her path. She simply had matters to take care of prior to such endeavors.

Honoring the past was how she could press forward. It had always been as such, but now more than ever.

The darkness whispered to her, pulling at her soul in its unique way. The blonde knew what she had to do, given the circumstances.

She pulled the open container further down the beach, before gathering logs to place inside, by Denart's remains. Once the makeshift pyre was ready, she went to retrieve and light a torch, before walking all the way back to the beach.

Lone figure facing the ocean, Baska didn't know whether she could do it. Nothing would ever take her memories from her. Letting go and burning physical traces met both a need to stay in control, and a fear of external threats. She felt betrayal gnawing at her, even when she knew that it didn't take anything away from what she had once shared with her companion.

Throwing herself into her inner turmoil, she ended her doubts in one motion, as she lit the pyre with a steady hand. Watching the flames set the logs and bones ablaze, she watched them rise into the skies. She didn't move for the following hour, keeping watch over Denart's ultimate farewell.

A week later.

Baska's travels had been uneventful so far. She had found some basic information about her destination, which had helped her establish a course of action to start investigating. She wasn't particularly troubled about going into imperial territory. She was a nobody to them. All they might have on file was some of her past history as a bounty hunter. Hell, she had been contracted by a couple of imperials fifteen years ago, and she had delivered on time. As a freelancer, she had always gone where the money was. And while she had no particular interest in the Empire as a system, they tended not to be as hell bent as keeping targets alive or in one piece as the Alliance, or whatever name they went under, was. It could make things easier for professionals. Imperials might have record of her birth, her cousin who was a famous musician. Her last known associate they could have on file was Denart, for they had done a contract for an imperial officer once.

The black hole her existence had been to public records in the last dozen years might look suspect though. At the same time, she was taking precautions. It wasn't as if this was the most dangerous stunt she had pulled. And she was set on finding answers about her late master. This imperial jurisdiction was her lead, and she would follow it no matter what.

She did have her lightsaber aboard, but it was kept in a hidden safe that would only open with bio-recognition. And if they didn't know what to look for, people would have to tear half the ship down to find it anyway. She would opt for regular blaster and a vibroblade for this mission. They were basic weapons, which shouldn't catch any unusual attention. She was but an insignificant bleep in the galactic population to the general audience, and she was fine with it.

The shadow was where she belonged.

While Baska hadn't visited many mining colonies, she had been to many places in the last two decades. Sillesk definitely ranged among the peculiar places she had seen. As she maneuvered the Ruby Wolf towards the port of call located at the edge of the system, her gaze drifted towards the planet where she was eventually headed, and upon the sun further away, at the core of the sparse system. She had read that the asteroid belt surrounding the vibrant sun had once been the main planet before something cut through it, pulverizing it into the current belt.

There was something about this asteroid belt. She felt it, a mere echo, remnant from older history. She pursed her lips, sharpening her focus towards the belt for a moment. It was as if her mind was attempting to latch onto an elusive something. It was hard to define, and it puzzled the Sith Master. Such feats were normally among her capabilities, but she had to settle for letting it go for now. It had piqued her interest; but she willed herself into following the course of action she had devised on her way to the system. Rushing wouldn't get her anywhere. As much as she had limited reserves of it given the shipwreck the last couple of weeks had been, she had to exhibit patience.

The imperial presence was visible given the ships of various sizes in the system. Being in such setting brought her back to her years as a bounty hunter. It provoked a maelstrom of thoughts in her mind. It felt that she was a younger woman, but her mastery of the dark side confirmed she was who she was at this point of time.

With a shrug, she refocused on the port of call planetoid where she was headed. It was where all ships stopped, unless she guessed they were in-system transportation, or possessed the technology to sustain the radiations that surrounded Sillesk. Her ship was reliable and well-upgraded, but her shields wouldn't put up with such radiations. And the thought of having the Ruby Wolf shut down in the middle of imperial space, even a mining colony, wasn't on her agenda.

As she was given authorization and direction towards a specific docking bay, Baska followed instructions. From isolated Sith ruins all the way to imperial territory, fate appeared keen on challenging her anew.

The place was busier than Baska had first expected it to be. Civilians seemed to make for the bulk of the travelers going through the port. She saw a large number of them look like miners; but others were difficult to pinpoint. It was that she personally cared that much; but every bit of information she could glean might eventually serve her. She had no reason to linger in the system longer than needed. She wondered whether some of the civilians were actual locals coming home. Some people' attires were more professional-looking, and she wondered whether scientists made for a significant part of visitors.

It was impossible to forget they were on imperial territory though. The important presence of soldiers and officers made it clear that unrest wouldn't be tolerated. Cogs in well-oiled wheels, as it was typical of imperials. She didn't really care, as long as she could stay under the radar. Many people might complain about following orders, but they nevertheless felt more comfortable staying in a cage. The cage could be gold-gilded, hiding under a veneer of democracy, or be a militaristic ostentatious display as the imperials at the port. It was their right, and Baska had no interest in enlightening them when they had no want or capacity to think for themselves.

She blended with the crowd with ease. Having lived off the grid for so long made her an adequate drifter when need be. Dressed in a practical nondescript attired, the athletic blonde eventually stood in the line at the security checkpoint. She had grown used to sneak in and sneak out in remote locations, or just get lost in more cosmopolitan places, or just have no need to hide, period. She sensed the annoyance and unease of some people around her, for the imperial presence was commonly unsettling to many people.

Baska just waited for her turn, for there was nothing else to do.

When her turned finally came, she stood before the gate, handing her ID chip to the male officer requesting it. He gave her a scrutinizing look, inquiring about her reason to travel. She replied it was professional, choosing to keep things simple. It seemed to be enough, maybe moreso as a quarreling group of miners were causing some ruckus a couple of people down the line, behind her.

Retrieving her ID chip, she passed through security after letting them inspect the two weapons and light pack she was carrying. Things went smoothly, and she was soon free to explore further into the spaceport and nearby facilities.

The fact that the place was a mining colony was impossible to ignore, really. Baska was baffled as to why people would choose to visit Sillesk if they weren't miners or imperials; but that was irrelevant. She had accessed the public information terminal after going through the checkpoint. It gave her options as transport companies that commonly connected the planetoid and the rest of the system. The blonde didn't like relying on other people for transportation, but things were what they were.

The terminal didn't provide much information about the planet itself, which meant that she would have to look around later. She at least had managed to get more specific locations about the two mining companies she had found connected to her late master. She checked on maps where they were located in comparison to the settlement name that had also appeared in her investigation. One of the mining companies had facilities attached to the settlement, so it likely was her best place to start.

Aregos's journals and notes went back to a good many years ago; but it seemed that mining operations had been an ongoing affair on Sillesk, which might help her uncover things from her master's history.

Pulling away from the public terminal, Baska had the brief impression she was being watched; but it dissipated shortly.

Making her way to a transport company, she easily secured her way to the spaceport closest to the settlement. She now had two hours to kill until her shuttle departed. It seemed other destinations had a faster turnaround; but there was no reason to take detours.

She took a convenient seat in the busy facilities, a wall behind her to avoid people peeking over her shoulder, but close enough to an exit, should any trouble arise. This gave her the opportunity to review the information she had copied from her master's notes to a datapad. If she was stuck here, she could as well try again to glean some extra details.

"Attention, passengers for inbound flight Nextu-Seven-A-F," a male voice with a distinct Imperial accent spoke over the loudspeaker. "Your craft has docked. Refueling and maintenance procedures are underway. Boarding will begin in precisely 15 minutes."

Though the voice did not add Don't be late in a stern tone of an academy headmaster at the end of the message, it was hard to miss the implication.

Twenty minutes later, Baska had already settled into her seat for the flight to Sillesk. Another ten minutes saw her transport begin its journey to the inner ring of the system.

"Greetings, gentlebeings," a more accommodating version of the spaceport announcer began speaking from the in-flight intercom. "And welcome to the Sillesk solar system. As you are likely aware by now, Sillesk sol is a potentially unique blue supergiant emitting constant waves of ion radiation. Although your trip to the outer planet Varad was not heavily impacted, this radiation increases the risk of intra-system travel by an additional order of magnitude once you have reached the system's inner ring. For this reason, flight beyond medium orbit of Sillesk II is strictly controlled."

"As an Imperial Protectorate, the Sillesk system enjoys many benefits from its ongoing relationship with the Empire. Sillesk itself is home to a standard Imperial garrison to provide protection from any unlawful military intrusion into the system. It also boasts a profitable relationship with multiple mining consortia, income from which has been used to secure the habitat-stabilization technology that makes Sillesk II enjoyable to live on. While visiting the inner system, travelers to the capitol of Aushti are advised to visit Chesswalk Square, a truly unique park designed and executed by botanical architect Gauss Dremol. This garden series interweaves with the city around it in both aesthetic and practical ways, making it the perfect heart of a thoroughly-planned Imperial community. While enjoying your stay, be mindful that breaches of the Imperial code for civilian conduct may carry significant financial penalties or liberty restrictions. And now, please prepare for a brief word from the ranking Protectorate official and Commander of IBG One-Eleven, Admiral Rigel Bismarck."

"Greetings, traveler,” a polished, urbane voice offered as a friendly welcome. “This is Rigel Bismarck, Admiral of the Empire. So long as you maintain peaceful and orderly manner during your stay, you will encounter no hostility from the Imperial Governance and Security forces stationed here. These forces are present to ensure the punctual growth of Sillesk from a mining colony into a full member-world of the Empire. Under the auspices of the Imperial Model Society program, this planet will gain access to fabulous science, technology, commerce, and cultural growth opportunities - opportunities which those willing to live up to the standards of Imperial citizenship may partake in. We hope what you see inspires you to return and to join the Empire in the grand effort of building something greater than ourselves. Thank you, and enjoy your stay."

With that, the recording clicked away to more standard messaging regarding in-flight emergency protocols. Those ended after five minutes, and another uneventful two hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds later, the in-system transport detached from its protective shieldship and flew down to a landing platform just outside the only major cluster of buildings visible on the planet. Everything, declared the arrival/departure schedule display by the exit ramp, had occurred precisely on schedule.

Maybe the implication that tardiness was no option could feel like a scolding to some weak individuals; but Baska could appreciate things working as they should. Baska didn't like abiding by other's rules for what mattered to her; but she also liked not having to rely on useless people. So far, nobody had gone into her way and it was as well. She still felt that fleeting tremor in the Force, and she knew that she was onto something. Hopefully said something would bring actual answers for what she was looking for.

She heard some chitchat exchanged among other passengers; but was glad anyone nearby ignored her. She had no desire for idle conversation.

The blonde's only disappointment was being unable to watch outside, because she bet that the sight of the inner ring was a good one. She was used to be in the pilot's seat, and witnessing unusual space as she flew to new destinations had always been a favorite. She liked seeing where she was going and take as much or little time as she saw fit.

The next announcement brought her back to the present. She took in all the information about Varad, Sillesk, and Sillesk II, including the whole radiation business. Knowledge was always key, and as a predator she knew better than to gloss over what others could consider superfluous details.

She had expected imperial propaganda, for any strong political faction delighted into rambling about its own benefits. Yet she was surprised at the mention of the civilized dimension of what she had thought was merely a mining colony. That surprised her and almost made her genuinely curious about the place, even though she had no idea where her mission would take her. Still, it was a surprise. Having mingled from farmlands all the way to noble courts, the Sith Master knew very well how appearances could be deceiving. The Empire held this duality of brute force and sleek elegance. Some argued that one was more significant than the other but the blonde knew that expertise and elegance could use force in grand, devious, and useful ways. Thrashing something could be handy, and utterly satisfying, but anyone possessing a high degree of intelligence knew that nothing was simple and having more than one card up the sleeve was clever.

She tucked the Admiral's name in the corner of her mind as well, and listened to what he stated, restating in better wording what had been said right before. Yet, she perked up at the mention of science and technology. That was a good sign, and might explain why her late mentor had had ties there. The mention of culture made the historian and artifact hunter in her curious too. The whole "Imperial Model Society" thing on the other hand made her inwardly scoff.

Yet she was a little surprised that this Admiral might be so eager to bring in new blood and talents. It wasn't always the case with imperials. Or maybe they were just allergic to bounty hunters and now Force users as well. She recall some disgusted stares at her upon deliveries of her targets. Yet the elite was always more than eager to have others get their hands dirty instead of their own.

Once only the humming of the engines and the quiet chatter of other passengers surrounded her, Baska tuned out and dozed off. She could as well use the upcoming couple of hours to get extra rest.

The liquid surrounding her prevented her from opening her eyes. Heyrina only wished that she could stop hearing as well. She needed no sight of the horrors unfolding around her for its sounds to freeze her bones and marrow into pure fright. She always went back to this place, even though she couldn't comprehend it. It was as if she was more cogent than she should have been in all of his attempts at bringing her to life, summoning her from the beyond to which her mother had birthed her many years ago.

She heard the hiss of a nearby tank sliding open after most of its watery content had been siphoned. The gurgles and coughing shook her whole body.

When her bare hands and knees hit the hard floor, she realized it was her who had been freed. Such an ironic term for what would result into more tests and experiments.

She blinked her eyes open, focusing on the sterile floor before her. She squinted when she realized it wasn't as spotless as it used to be, as if it had been abandoned for a long time...

The air reeked of medical products and seared her struggling lungs.

She felt her body collapsing and curled up in a ball on the floor, crying bitter and useless tears.

In the next moment she was back in the tank, just another one. This time it was void of liquid so she could gaze outside of her glass prison.

She realized her body was one of a child again, the child she usually was and yet never was.

Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around her knees, shivering.

It was then that she heard footsteps approaching. Too many people; but lots of them came to a halt away from her sight. They all stopped at once with impeccable timing.

She pressed her face against the glass when she sensed her. She had almost no memories of her mother; but she recognized the life force that had tried so far to sustain her and kept her memory alive after the tragedy.

What was her mother doing here? And who was the man in uniform with her?

It was too late for her mother to save her after all. She was a sad dream on good days, a nightmare on bad ones.

Baska's eyes shot open the moment the shuttle landed. Her posture didn't betray anything from the dream she just had. The vision was still viscerally imprinted into her psyche. Once again she didn't have a surefire way to interpret what she had seen, heard, and experienced from her daughter's point of view. The weird push and pull between her hopes, fears, and the genuine possibility that her progeny had survived was puzzling; but she held onto the hope that it contained clues that would point her to the right direction.

She needed answers, and she would get them, no matter the price.

She was keenly aware of how the dark side could play with one's weaknesses, just as it could provide guidance for those ready to jump through fire. Time would tell what would unravel.

She disembarked quietly along the other passengers. Her eyes looked up to the skies as soon as she stood on solid ground outside. She felt a pull towards further into the inner ring of the system. There was only so much one could see with the naked eye, but she trusted her Force-imbued instincts.

Focusing on the task at hand, she checked the various information panels. There wasn't much to see outside of the mining operations, and she hoped that she would have no need to go tinker with the imperial garrison.

She began exploring the cluster of buildings, finding three different mining companies for what she could gather. She found the one that Alienor tracked down based on her late master's notes. She walked up to the information desk, and the man there looked at her with a neutral expression.

"Greetings, how may I help you?"

She was a remarkable liar and had no qualm about being treacherous when need be, so her posture wouldn't betray anything.

"Hi, my name is Baska. I am looking for one of your former employers."

He subtly narrowed his eyes at her. She made sure she wasn't looking threatening. Playing the semi-goodie two shoes was always a challenge but she was a good actress.

"This sounds awfully vague and we do not provide such information lightly."

Grand, just grand.

She slightly dipped her head, slopping her shoulders just a little.

"I understand; and I wish I had an easier way to contact him."

She paused, sensing his curiosity as well as his annoyance with her.

"I'm looking for my biological father. I know he used to work as a scientist here for several years."

Given that her stupid brother had even called her a bastard back when he had tossed her out, that ironically held some truth, even though she knew for certain that she was her father's daughter.

"Do you have a name?"

She'd rather already look through their records and let the Force guide her; but it wasn't an option. So she had to go for her next second best bet.

"His name is Koron."

The woman in her fifties sitting at a workstation further away in the room, looked up at once.

"Do you mean Dr. Koron Sterak?"

Baska nodded without hesitation. She doubted two Korons happened to work here at the same time. She felt it in her guts her assumption was correct.Sh

The hopeful expression lighting her face up was partially genuine.

"I believe he worked on some medical projects."

She was going off from what she had seen in her dream aboard the shuttle, as well as the one she had had back on Iego.

The woman stepped forward and looked at her with extensive scrutiny.

"We rarely see wayward adult children come all the way here. Dr. Sterak was a formidable mind and a friend."

The reception employee seemed dubious but kept his mouth shut.

"I would have come many years ago, had I known."

It was the beauty of lies rooted in other truths.

"I only recently learned about our connection."

The woman's sharp gaze remained upon her.

"We haven't seen him in a few years; but rumor was that he was hired for a confidential project."

The Sith Master repressed the need to smirk given that his death had definitely been kept under wraps after she had burned his remains.

"From what I heard he was brilliant and always pushed the envelope."

The woman's posture relaxed a little. It was working.

"He was. As a native from Sillesk who was trained to work with the unusual resources, he was one of a kind."

Baska was wary that it was going all too easy; but if she could get this woman talking, then she'd make the best of it.

"It is good to hear more about him, ma'am," she replied with a nod.

"I am Planning Associate Leyra Amink."

The reception clerk clearer his throat.

"Associate Amink, with all due respect, we know little about this stranger and we have other matters to tend to."

Here it was, the magic breaker.

Amink pursed her lips, considering his words. Baska wanted to toy with his mind; but she didn't want to risk exposing herself with the surveillance systems she knew were there, and she didn't want to draw attention to her.

"Well, there isn't much more I can offer anyway, Miss Baska. I hope you're able to find Dr. Sterak. Please give him my regards if you see him."

Baska mentally cursed for her one opening to poof into thin air so quickly.

"Of course."

She was about to head out when she asked the last question that might gain her some information.

"Is there anyone else around here he was close to? I'd like to hear more about him, you know."

She looked at sweet as possible without looking like a Rancor posing as a Jax cub.

She knew that she had overstayed her welcome with the clerk; but she hoped that Amink would play along.

"Mmm. I'm not sure he's still here; but Dr. Sterak's former pilot, Ternes, used to live at the edge of the compound, near the garrison."

The clerk scoffed.

"I thought he died two years ago. The old man could barely fly a ship anymore."

Amink glared at him and the clerk hanged his head, busying himself with his monitor.

"Thank you again," Baska replied before leaving the building.

As much as she trusted the Force to guide her, and she knew that Sillesk would bring some answers, she hadn't expected to go chase some old fart who used to work as a pilot.

The Imperial garrison on Sillesk was not difficult to find. Despite the cluster of tall buildings that made up Aushti obscuring the things behind them, the periodic mechanical thump of AT-ST walkers on base patrol echoed throughout the city. For all the implications of grandeur offered by the in-flight messages, the city was more buildings than people at this stage in its development. Given the sparseness of the crowds, ambient noise would likely not overtake that sound for some time.

Getting to the garrison meant passing most of the city proper, including the skyhook, a watchful tower overlooking the area. Of course, it wasn't fair to say the skyhook overlooked the garrison. The skyhook overlooked everything, which the garrison simply happened to be part of.

Passing the skyhook (which one had to do from quite a distance) commuters could see the opening to large underground road and railways extending in the direction of the garrison. While the exact layout wasn't obvious, it was clear that each structure had been built with the idea of reinforcing the other in mind.

Behind the skyhook, but not between it and the garrison, a smaller cluster of residential housing and shops sprouted from the landscape. Approaching those buildings, one could finally see the construction of the city give way to forested lands. While some of the forest flora sprouted large, tall, and teal, the more common foliage was of medium size with purple-hued leaves. Had the sun not been at mid-day, the coloring might have given the nearby city a subdued look.

It was in this cluster that one K. Ternes lived with an appropriately-labeled mail caddy helpfully identifying him to visitors. Currently, Ternes himself sat on the front stoop of his one-story residence. A rag in one hand, a polish-able item in the other, and a faraway look in his eye were the only things occupying his time.

The last thing on Baska's mind was to do any sort of sight-seeing; but there wasn't any option to reach her destination besides going through Aushti. The way the city had ambitions and pockets of actual civilization surprised the Sith. Frankly, she hadn't had any particular expectations for what this place would look like. The city definitely didn't match all the poetry waxed about it by its imperial overseer; but there was potential, and a much more diverse crowd than she would have expected.

The glimpse she got from the forested lands caught her interest for a brief moment; but she had no time to waste. Yet she felt a strange pull, which was not so out of the ordinary for her. Exploring had always been part of who she was, whether as a bounty hunter, or as a Sith historian and artifact hunter.

When she saw habitations in the nearest part of the forested lands, she pressed on and soon found the man she was looking for. While Ternes was still alive, he did look like a vestige that life had put through a lot. It wasn't so much that it drew any sort of pity from the Sith; but rather she hoped he would be somewhat useful.

"K. Ternes?"

The old man looked up, stopping what he was polishing just seconds after she had come close enough.

"Yeah, Kir Ternes. And you'd be?"

Someone you'd better be able to help, she mused.

"I'm Baska. I heard you were friends with Dr. Sterak."

He scoffed and got to his feet with difficulties. To get on his good side, Baska came to offer help; and he didn't shoo her away.

"Yeah, pay was good but he was hell to work with."

That likely was the understatement of the year given what he had put Baska through, although it had helped mold her into the powerful Master of the Dark side she had become years ago.

"What do you want with him?"

He sat down inside and grabbed an half empty bottle and took a long gulp from it.

"I was hoping he'd still be around. I want to find him."

Spitting that ugly lie was painful but so be it.

"I found out he's my father. Trying to learn more about him, and hopefully find him."

The ancient shook his head.

"I don't think he can care for anyone except himself. His only real child was his pet project."

Now they were getting somewhere.

"It must have meant a lot to him."

Ternes drank a third of what was left in the bottle.

"He was obsessed with some energy stuff, and was a pompous ass. I've never seen much of it but he spent more and more time in his old hideout in the inner ring. This place felt haunted. I hated it."

Baska knew that her late Master wasn't a good pilot himself, so it made sense he had had to hire Ternes.

"Could you take me there?"

The old man shrugged.

"I'm done flying, little girl. Ship's taking a nap."

That was a good way to anger the blonde. He might be stubborn but his mind was easy to play with.

"All right, I'll let you be."

He grumbled something. By the time she was before his front door, she had already invaded his mind with tendrils of powers and built the illusion that she was leaving when instead she headed to the one other room in the small dwelling, discreetly rummaging through his belongings, until she found a non-secured datapad holding his ship docking information. She soon heard snores coming from the main room; but to be on the safe side, she kept her trick up until she had properly left the residence.

She should be able to sneak and access his ship, which thankfully wasn't docked at the garrison. Civilians could be useful like that. And once aboard, she'd go through the logs. Hopefully she'd figure out where that old hideout was. Ternes wasn't that tidy and with how old and commonly intoxicated he appeared to be, she doubted that any deep clean of his navigation computer had occurred in the last while. And given how she had unexpectedly killed her Master several years ago, she knew that he had had no opportunity to tie loose ends.

The in-system arrival and departure complex for commercial passengers was a large segment of the Aushti spaceport, but not the only one. Four smaller complexes branched out from the main hub: one each for in-system civilian craft, for commodity shipping and large cargo, for specialty shipping and VIP travelers, and a closed-off area whose labels vaguely hinted at docks for specialized testing of prototype air and space vehicles. The last area seemed still under construction - as Baska passed by on her way to the civilian docks, she could see large builder droids and scaffolding around the far end of what was most likely a military factory.

Still, the journey back to the spaceport was just as uneventful as the journey from it. Angling away from a sign by the commodity shipping area that read "Ghemenaux Shipping and Transfers", Baska found a series of equidistant information terminals. Keying in the proper docking bay number and authentication code brought up a helpful information display describing the contents of Kir Ternes docking bay.

It also brought up a video feed of the docking bay itself, along with a caption indicating that all docking bays were helpfully monitored "for your security".

Below the feed was a question: file a flight-plan? Open and closed blocks of time offered themselves for Baska's selection, with the soonest being an hour away. Included next to the schedule selector was an option for expedited departure ("using previously filed information") and the cost in credits for allowing same-day spaceflight. Another helpful information block indicated that filing an expedited flight plan would remotely open the bay to allow for travel preparation.

All-in-all, it was a system that seemed extremely efficient at allowing people to travel as they pleased - almost encouraging it - provided nothing deviated from expectations.

While Baska grew up on a prosperous farm on Tanaab, with her uncle and aunt delving into antiquaries import and export; life had taken her to many different places. She was extremely adaptable, whether the place was a vicious ghost-filled abandoned fortress, an aristocratic gathering, or a hive of scum and villainy. Nothing could really take her off guard at this point, unless it had to do with her daughter.

Returning to the spaceport was utterly uneventful; and while Baska felt a bizarre interest in exploring the city, nothing would deter her from her goal, which was to figure out what her late master might have created in this unusual system.

Boring made it easier to think about what was ahead of her. She nevertheless took into account whatever observations she was making, for she remained on her guard. She acted very naturally but she knew better than being careless, unless it was the best option, which it wasn't for the time being.

While the class division is not as obvious as on other worlds she had visited, the hub and other signs stood as clear indicators of the various levels of wealth and status on Sillesk. It didn't bother Baska especially as she considered that if one wanted bad enough to get higher in society, they had to create the means for themselves. Most people screaming for how unfair life was had missed great lessons. Tragedies were bound to happen, and what mattered was how once grew from them. It was why the coddling of certain societies, and the denying of the self that some preached didn't sit well with the bounty hunter turned Sith. She had been forged in fire, and knew that more fire would come her way, attempt to consume her; but she would prevail.

As she reached the terminal that would allow her to fly Ternes's ship, she appreciated how well-oiled the imperial bureaucracy was. She chose to use previous flight plans from what the menu offered thanks to the identification codes. It took her closer to the belt, and once there, she would figure things out. She also chose to spend some of her credsticks, in order to get going four hours later. Same day was her goal, but she purposefully chose a later block in order to minimize attention, even though nobody had reason to suspect a previous employee.

Of course, she knew that she might stir away from whatever lane the freighter was expected to stay in; but she would handle everything in due time. Whatever could go smoothly was a helpful stepping stone.

Once everything was cleared at the terminal, she stepped onto the docking bay and easily mingled with the few other people nearby, nobody caring about her, as she made herself the most bland-looking possible. She locked the old freighter after going aboard. It wasn't as messy as she had expected, despite the bit of dust that layered the floors. It had definitely not been used in a while; but was still decently maintained and was almost with a full tank, which was a nice surprise.

She proceeded to do a quick search of the ship, and unsurprisingly, she didn't find anything interesting. Once she made it to the cockpit, she brought the logs up and started going through them. While it might not give her much information, she hoped to find anything that could give her a better insight into what and where her late master was up to.

The logs provided Baska with greater insight than she had first expected. Ternes had delivered to various places around the belt, but most of his work up to a few years ago, coinciding with the Sith's killing of her late master, had been deeper into the asteroids, and she had the exact coordinates. Pulling up the manifesto, she saw extended medical nomenclatures: both machinery and medicine.

Baska pursed her lips, remembering some of her recent visions, of her daughter stuck in some sort of pod, the scent of sulfur and discarded tissues and equipment. Whatever the dead Sith had done was abomination. She didn't look down upon scientific research, or even necromancy; but playing gods with an infant or even a child was something she couldn't condone, regardless of how much she missed her daughter. She should have been laid to rest without any grave robber desecrating her final repose.

Baska didn't know what she might find in this base, now likely abandoned since its owner's passing, for there was extensive clearance history for a mere transport freighter, indicating that Ternes had worked directly for Sterak on many occasions.

She had no idea how deep Koron Sterak had been embedded in the imperial apparatus, and she didn't even know whether she would get an answer; but she would go through this base until she uncovered all she could about what he had done to Heyrina, and whether her beloved daughter still existed in one form or the other. If any variation of Heyrina had survived, she owed it to her daughter to find her and bring her home, to let her know that she still had a mother.

There was not much more information to gather from the logs so she killed the final hour before leaving with deep meditation, letting Darkness course through her veins. Her immersion in the power that she commanded and that guided her didn't give her any new insight; but she felt it linger at the edge of her perception: a fleeting promise of more revelations.

Bellataine, Tainar Sector.

Captain Seraphine Tankreyd dreaded the new duty that had befallen her: the yearly visit to the Bakelan Orphanage. Even though her mother had stepped down from planetary leadership a decade ago, Countess Avara had continued to oversee certain charitable activities, such as this one. Sadly, the Countess's health was not improving and she was currently receiving treatment, preventing her from visiting with the children under Lady Fireya Merril's patronage.

The younger Tankreyd would have rather dealt with savage beasts than children, for her appreciation for them was still utterly limited. She guessed that the day she chose to have her own family, her opinion would change; but for now, the little beings could stay as far away from her as possible, and it would improve her quality of life.

Yet she would do what was required, and she took a deep breath before exiting her vehicle. Lady Merril was awaiting her, along with some of the older pupils. Truth be told, she was grateful for how the King and the various nobles of the systems provided for the less fortunate.

"Captain Tankreyd, it is an honor to welcome you," Lady Merril said with a curtsy, mirrored by the children by her side. At least the lady took into account how Seraphine refused to be called by the rank she believed still belonged to her mother.

"Thank you, Lady Merril. I am glad I could visit on behalf of the Countess, who sends her regards, as well as some presents," she replied, gesturing to the various crates her escort was beginning to unload.

Lady Merril soon led her through the courtyard and towards the main building of the property, which was even larger than what Seraphine had expected. She knew too well how lucky she was to have her mother, given the loss of the rest of her family. Visiting the orphanage led her to muse over the siblings and father she had never known, lost to whatever tragedy had plagued them.

When Baska opened her eyes again, she didn't know what to think. The last part of her meditation had kept her in the dark, but silhouettes and fragmented moments she couldn't identify had danced before her mind's eye, too much in the distance for her to make sense of them. The uneasy feeling brought a lump to her throat. She felt grasping at elusive wind when she needed tangible responses.

A lesser being would have wallowed in the frustration; but the blonde Sith knew better. She focused on what she could do, keeping the taunting vagueness in the back of her mind, having committed the few details she could to memory. She anchored herself in the pain that had brought her to Sillesk in the first place. Ripping the wound open was a dance of power that Baska had learned to master over the years, which had eventually made her stronger than her late mentor, when he thought he could break her.

A stubborn dark phoenix, Baska welcomed fear, anger, even threats of madness, pain, and despair, and wasn't the kind of woman to back down. With a last shrug, she powered the ship up, and went through pre-flight in due time, clearing up all codes and procedures, until she was in the air.

This time she was able to have a look at the impressive asteroids that gave the system a unique flair. She took her time to follow the pre-approved flight route to the closest point from which she would veer in order to get to her master's old base, concealed deeper into the belt.

The journey to that point was uneventful, for she was keeping to her "line;" but that was only borrowed time. The blonde had checked on the proximity scanners to get an idea of potential security stops, and she sure hoped that if she got tailed for whatever reason, she could push the freighter hard enough that it made it to her destination without too much trouble.

With one look at the navigation system, she knew it was time. She switched her previous flight plan to the new one that would guide her to the old base. It shouldn't take her more than thirty minutes to get there, hopefully buying her enough time, especially as she had no issue zigzagging through asteroids if need be. She had gone through worse during her training.

"You see anything yet, Blackhawk Lead?"

"Nuttin yet." Grimo Yevest shifted the cigarra in his mouth and eased back his throttle. "'m startin t' think whoever it was hit one of the big ones after they went off scope. One of these minin' crews might likely tumble to whatever wreckage is left in a few years."

Blackhawk squadron had been canvassing the relevant asteroid belt sector for about twenty minutes trying to find the missing ship. It wasn't the easiest job to pull off in a flight of overshielded tugcrafts, but it wasn't high risk either even for a system as inhospitable to fighter-sized craft as Sillesk was. The Admiral had spent a small fleet's worth of resources over the years to develop techs, specs, and spacers that could roll with the solar flares.

Or at least, those made things safe for the Empire. Visitors were up Findley's ionwash without a thruster unless they paid for Imperial insurance.

"Blackhawk six to Lead, we have an inbound comm. Admiral Bismarck has taken an interest in our search-and-rescue. Says he's in a Shielded Personnel Carrier and is on his way out."

Grimo laughed. "What's ol' Arby want with a Nobody at the end of Nowhere Road?"

"He didn't say. He's recalling most of us to the Scythe, but he wants you and Three to meet him at these coordinates pretty quick-like."

Huh. "So he thinks he's figured where our missing ship wound up?"

"More than likely," Three chimed in. "Don't know how, but I'm not betting against him. Adjusting my course and speed - vector says we'll be there in four. I wonder what's there that's enough to get his attention?"

"Even if there is something out there, it's probably not the What that's got him interested," Grimo mused as he adjusted his own course and speed. "Long as I've known him, ol' Arby has always gotten more wound up over Whos than Whats."

"You'd have to be several wrinkles shy of a Cerean's forehead to want to leave range of the navi-system buoys," Six responded. "Speaking of, I'm heading back. See you Wing Waldos back at hangar."

"While yer sitting around gabbin, maybe y' could knit us some socks," Grimo smirked at his own joke. "See you boys whenever Arby gets what he wants out here."

Rigel Bismarck, Admiral of the Empire, sat in the chair closest to the cockpit door at the head of twenty-two Imperial troopers of various types. The compliment was composed in part by two actual squads from the Scythe. One squad consisted of eight light spacetroopers while the other was a specialty unit which included a mix of eight total engineers, technicians, and specialists.

The remaining six were Deathtroopers.

The Deathtrooper compliment was deliberately three fewer than it should have been. The Deathtroopers not present remained aboard the Scythe. In the event something happened to the entire cadre, the remaining Deathtroopers would receive audio and video logs through the in-system communication relays. For similar reasons, the sergeants who would have commanded the regular line squads were absent as well.

All the troopers present wore suits of medium space-faring armor that had been proofed against the system's radiation. Bismarck himself wore a light exo-suit designed for spacewalk that allowed clear vision of his face. It, too, had ion radiation protections, though its design was considerably less shielded than the suits around him. They were there for his protection, after all.

"ETA in two minutes, Admiral."

"Excellent," Bismarck responded over the shuttle's still-open broadcast channel through his suit's commlink system. "Do we have a visual on any kind of landing site?"

"Yes, sir," the pilot responded. "It's as you expected. There's a natural opening in the rock that's been set up into a landing bay. Looks large enough to fit a Carrack in."

"Then a total of four small craft should pose no issue. I assume the Blackhawk tugs are already landed?"

"We sure are, Admiral Arby sir," the voice of Grimo Yevest replied. "Landing zone secured and we didn't even booby-trap this other freighter we found on account a how generous I'm feelin today."

"Good to know you remembered my civilian-engagement protocols," Bismarck replied, the dryness of his response speaking for itself. "Have you found anything of note, Squadron Leader Yevest?"

The comm crackled slightly, with Grimo's volume gaining strength as the ship neared the location Bismarck had triangulated. "Aside from our missing ship? Naw. This place ain't been used in years, but all the lights are on like someone was figurin they'd be back pretty soon. No computer terminals in here either. There's a coupla sets of doors but they all look to lead into an airlock with some kinda decontamination system. 'course, the airlock seems kinda redundant since there's atmo shielding on the hangar."

"In this system, redundancy is life," Bismarck noted. "Should the shielding fail due to an intense burst of ion radiation, we may wind up glad for that airlock."

"Sure, sure. Listen, sir, me and Three got this area secured 'till y'all land, but if you could hurry up an' get here that'd be great. I'm gettin' hungry and could use one of them mighty fine burgers they sell planetside."

"We'll be along shortly, Blackhawk One," Rigel said as he keyed in preparations to temporarily cut the communications link. "Don't let your stomach get you in trouble."

Baska had no doubt that she would eventually get company; but she would make the best of the time she had gleaned to investigate her late master's lair. As she landed the freighter on the landing pad, she felt lingering energy, withering remains of a man who no longer was part of the living. While they had always kept each other at arms' length, the blonde knew that her master and her had done their best to drill into each other's heads, even though the bastard had done a more brilliant job at that with her, for she had once been the beginner he tried to break, only to forge her anew; and she had been blindsided by his nefarious plans regarding her beloved daughter. This had been a powerful lesson to realize, not for the first but in the most poignant way, that others had no morals left. While she was a survivor who relished in mind games and would push herself to the brink of destruction to become stronger, she would bring no harm to children. Obscurity and light's dance had always been a visceral one, and true power lied in knowing where to redraw lines, bend them to one's bidding.

Her soul was at its direst unrest now that she had no idea what had happened to her daughter, whether she had been resurrected, and in what form. She felt a sickness to her stomach as if Heyrina was ripped from her womb anew; but no matter what the asshole had done, she would find her. Nobody would stand in her way.

Her thoughts coalesced into a sense of emergency that had her waste no more precious time. She had seen the scanners and read some logs, and she was glad to find some exosuit, albeit not best quality, in one of the storate rooms. Actually she found three of them, which surprised her, but she managed to put one on. Surviving through dangerous environments had been something her late master had thrown her through from the very beginning, and she was starting to get a better understanding of what had inspired him for such resistance training.

She soon disembarked and had already assessed that other ships could land in the makeshift bay. For what she had witnessed in her short time in the system, and what she knew about the Empire, she knew that her wandering would attract attention; and she now knew that her late master had actually worked for the Empire. To what extent, she might find out. Some might say she was cornering her own damn self in the middle of an asteroid field, with or without a ship left to leave, as she wouldn't put it past the imperials to destroy or immobilize it.

There was a lot of pain in this place, that had no specific source but a general location. It was nauseating; but nothing would deter Baska from unearthing whatever monstrosity had occurred in these walls. Reaching the decontamination airlock, she decided against removing the exosuit; especially as there was not one soul breathing there. She had no idea what it meant for Heyrina; but she would find out soon enough.

What came next was a long corridor with glass walls on each side, showing a set of four large medicalized rooms. While she was no doctor herself, she recognized a bunch of tanks in one of them, and she felt another wave of sickness crashing against her; and she continued to inspect what the others were. One of them was visibly the main office. She walked up there and thanks to what she had stolen from her mentor after ending his life, she was able to get into the system, at least the completely personal one. If one of the other was under imperial encryption was irrelevant for now. She pulled up some of the information on the holo screen, which was a blend of Sith glyphs and scientific jargon, along with a million calculation that was beyond Baska's comprehension on the go.

She proceeded to copy all the information on a couple of data chips. It was during that process that she felt presences coming to the asteroid she was currently on. She pursed her lips, casting her senses as a devious net to get a grasp of what was going on. Soon, only two lingered behind.

When they stayed put, by the landing pad, she knew that it likely meant the cavalry was coming, whatever it might entail.

The moment the download was finished the local scanner chimed in loudly, indicating that reinforcements had arrived. Baska had just put one of the data chips in an interior pocket in her jacket under the exosuit; but she swallowed the other. Better safe than sorry, should she be made prisoner. She hadn't come this way for nothing.

Knowing the clock was ticking, she made her way towards the tank repository room. As she stepped inside, she wished that dust had effectively gathered instead of presenting abominations, for there was no other word to describe the distorted fetuses, body parts, and even a couple of infants there. She thought she had already witnessed absolute horror in her life, sometimes even provoked it; but that was little in comparison.

Forcing herself to come closer, Baska eventually stopped before one of them that held what was left of the baby she had held once many years ago.

The boarding ramp to the SPC Quench clanged as it hit the deck of the bay. Sensors read that the bay atmosphere was strong, so Rigel had ordered the pilot to go ahead and vent the used gas supply from the thrusters and the air recycler. As a consequence, hissing clouds of gas blew down and away from the carrier's wings and belly, framing the troops as they disembarked.

The cargo bay was long and the two-plus squads Rigel brought with him barely occupied the portion they were in. As long as the bay was, though, it was also somewhat deep. The design clearly allowed for loading and unloading large quantities of manpower or materiel, the latter probably being the more likely use of the space. The side walls, ceiling, and floor of the bay were all an unassuming tan color with no design. The inner wall reflected a bit more thought in its design; the lower half of the wall clearly opened into some sort of facility while the upper half incorporated various shapes whose position roughly matched doors, machinery, or other features on the lower half.

'Someone had just a bit of artistic soul,' thought Rigel, even as the thought made him frown.

Setting aside his internal deliberations, he looked towards the airlock door set in the middle of the wall. By the door stood two figures, one of which wore a heavy suit of exo-armor. The figure waved at Rigel and spat something from its open helmet. "Hey Admiral Arby," he shouted. "Three figures he can work the door control whenever you want us to try and enter."

"Very good," Rigel called back. "Have you discovered any defenses or other items of note?"

"Nuttin 'cept these footprints in the dust. If there's anything interesting here, it's on the other side of the door."

The statement made Rigel pause. Footprints in the dust...

"Very well," Rigel responded. He turned to the Deathtroopers. "Your primary mission is to protect my person. Any threat here is most likely to come from outside in the form of stray asteroids that breach the bay shields and damage our ships. Take up positions and ensure that does not happen."

As the Deathtroopers acknowledge and fanned away from the group, Rigel continued towards the airlock while addressing the the rest of his men. "What we have here is a very interesting find. Until we know more about the structure, operate on passive detection only. Don't worry about videocapture or preserving a precise record of the interior yet, but do map general object placement and power lines. A light echogram will probably work best."

The Blackhawk squadron Leads nodded as the group joined them at the airlock door. "Squadron Officers Yevest and Braddock, you command the infantry and the specialist squads respectively. Pair your squads off. Should this prove to be a large and complex structure, I want a troop pairing to investigate the area, determine its purpose, and secure it against intrusion until further notice. The main group will proceed towards whatever central office or command center exists. Understood?"

"Aye, Admiral, we get it," Yevest said. He gestured at Blackhawk Three. "Go ahead, Braddy-boy: crack 'er open!"

The airlock rolled smoothly open, allowing the Imperials inside. A display inside the airlock signified their progress through a decontamination spray and scan. Once that completed, the airlock door sealed and pressurized behind them. Rigel lead his men in stepping out into a long transparisteel-walled corridor.

"Yo Arby," Yevest said, one heavy exoarmored hand pointing into a room filled with tanks. "Whaddya make of that?"

"A fine question," Rigel said. "I think I'd like to check that out personally before we proceed. Send units to secure the other rooms. Leads Yevest and Braddock, you're with me."

Rigel strode calmly into the room, his gaze flowing from capsule to capsule and observing the contents. Most medical experiment protocols dictated that remains or other biological detritus should be disposed of after it stopped functioning. That these had not, suggested they held some unique value in their dead state.

Or, alternatively, that the persons who would have disposed of them never made it back to do so.

Rigel glanced to the Leads on either side of him. Braddock had his hand resting lightly over his holstered service weapon; Yevest already had his own blaster rifle up and in firing position. "Come now gentlemen," he said. "There's no need for that when we're the only ones here."

Yevest and Braddock eyed each other, then warily relaxed their defensive stances. Rigel nodded, then stepped up to look at the tank he'd been focusing on since he entered the room. "Something cruel happened here," he said, gazing over the remains of a small infant. "If we restrain ourselves, we may learn more about why that was."

Bellataine, Tainar Sector.

Heyrina had been at the orphanage for several years already. It was a good life despite all the nightmares and terrors she had, that often had her disturb other kids at nights. Thankfully the workers at the orphanage were willing to help all children, including difficult ones. The little girl was never as happy as when tinkering with some machines. She was maybe more at peace with nonliving objects. She didn't know and acted intuitively.

She was tinkering with an old datapad when she saw her again, her mother. She knew it was her even though she was wearing a weird suit. And she wasn't alone. The man she had seen before was there too, and they were in the bad place.

She felt fear and above all else hope, and even resolve. The vision had been brief but the moment she looked up she saw Lady Merril with someone else. The other lady reminded her of her mother. Tucking the datapad under her arm, the six year old scampered off towards them, curious, an invisible pull tugging her towards the blue-eyed tall woman.

When she heard Lady Merril address her as a "Tankreyd," Heyrina couldn't breath; then she did what she rarely did as a shy child: she walked up to the lady.

The two adults stopped at her and the visitor gave her a puzzled look. There were similarities in look, the same brilliant blue eyes and delicate but well-defined features about them.

"Can you take me home so mamma can find me?"

Bellataine, Tainar Sector.

Seraphine felt something weird, one of these bizarre intuitive moments that had punctuated her life.

On cue, a young girl, reminding her so much of her mother that it was unsettling, came to her. She didn't even look at Lady Merril; but felt ripples of shock coming from the orphanage owner.

When the little girl spoke, Seraphine could do nothing except staring.

"Who is your mamma?"

Lady Merril moved at her side and seemed about to say something when the child spoke.

"My mamma is Baska. You remind me of her."

Lady Merril crouched by the child.

"Heyrina, you never mentioned that before. Are you alright?"

Heyrina kept her attention on Seraphine.

"She knows mamma. Her mamma does too but she's too sad."

Seraphine couldn't believe the child's name. Heyrina was the name of her maternal grandmother. The Captain caught Lady Merril's confused and apologetic look. Her mother had been at the orphanage several times but for whatever reason, the child had never made herself known.

"Did you ever talk to my mother, Lady Tankreyd?"

The child shook her head, looking serious.

"I saw her. That's all. She always looks sad."

Lady Merril offered an apologetic look to Seraphine; but didn't interrupt the conversation.

The possibilty that her niece had been placed in this orphanage was the weirdest event that had ever happened to her; but she knew better than dismiss all of this as some trickery. Her intuition told her this was what the child claimed. Seraphine recalled the Tankreyd matriarch's relentless faith that Baska was still somewhere. The Captain even thought that it was why her mother was still alive despite declining health and severe losses. Seraphine knew that a Tankreyd always honored fate's call.

"Yes, I will take you home with me, Heyrina."

Even lost in her distraught contemplation, Baska had sensed the arrival of more ships and various lifeforms, imperial squads without a doubt. For what she had witnessed of the imperial system over the years and of Silleks in particular in her short time in the system, she knew that she would have company sooner than later.

Yet she had no intention to simply run away. She didn't move even as she knew that the imperials were about to corner her, or so they would believe. Her stance remained unchanged, the predator in her always ready to lash out or pivot into newfound shadows that she bet this place possessed. Her later master wasn't one to lack resourcefulness or secrecy.

While finding her daughter's remains should have brought closure, there was an unnerving certainty in the Sith's soul that this was but a step on her path to her daughter. It was disturbing but if there was one thing she knew about life it was that it unraveled mysteries for those bold enough to chase them.

While she didn't look behind her, her piercing blue eyes still upon her beloved daughter's remains, she recognized the voice that spoke. It was the same one that she had heard on the transport. While she had expected the cavalry, Admiral Bismarck himself was a surprise; and she didn't know what to make of it.

What was most puzzling was how he appeared to ignore her presence when his men hadn't, one of them having already pointed a weapon at her, the change in his presence and the subtle sound of a rifle readied. He appeared even more oblivious to her presence than some of her many mind tricked targets in the past; and she hadn't even done anything to him. Truth be told, she was planning to refrain from any blatant use of the Force for she knew that the Empire had very little appreciation for people of her kind. She knew the men lowered and let go of their weapon upon the Admiral's command, even though she could feel their confusion and uneasiness.

Yet he carried on, stating that they were alone, that she wasn't present. Rare were those that defied her expectations, but this imperial appeared to accomplish such a feat, and in the most uncanny circumstances.

As he stood by her side, she felt anger at his presence before her daughter's remains, for the moment was to be private regardless of it being in imperial territory. She was nevertheless acutely intrigued by his decision to come here himself, and this curiosity was a weird experience.

What exactly had been the rapport between her late mentor and the imperials, with the admiral? It appeared the place was an enigma to the man besides her for what she could tell and sense.

Since she could still move freely, she decided to make the best of it, though she knew better than to make brisk movements. She knew how trigger happy some military could be, especially if a higher up was around. While it appeared that the Admiral commanded respect of his men, she knew better than to let her guard down.

The moment she was to step back, she felt compelled to reach out to the tank and the moment her gloved hand touched the glass, the briefest vision passed before her mind's eye. Her daughter talked to a woman who bore striking Tankreyd looks, asking her to take her home so "her mama" could find her.

She caught her breath and stepped back, more abruptly than she wanted. She regrouped and willed herself in a control forged in depth of despair and anger. She would retrieve her daughter's remains; but not yet.

Without a single look at the Admiral, she moved across the room, looking for medical records; but couldn't find any terminal like the one she had found in the office. And she knew that there was more. Her late master had always been an accomplished puppeteer, even though she had eventually outsmarted him. She might not have thought more about it based on what she had already discovered and the information she had retrieved; but based on her quick scan, and the vision, she could feel it in her bones that there were more secrets lurking on this asteroid.

If the Darkness had truthfully showed her a living Heyrina, she held for certainty that she would unveil where she was by investigating this place. She had no desire to do it with a bunch of imperials in tow; but one didn't always get to be choosy. And as a Sith Master she had many aces up her sleeve.

She eventually passed between the two armed troopers, briefly staring at them with silent confidence. While her brash side found it tempting to aggravate them, it was a petty and immature side that would only be a disservice to her goal, which was to uncover what atrocity the bastard had committed, and what he had done with Heyrina. Even though she knew for sure that her stillborn baby remained as such, the horrors she had witnessed and the vision indicated that he had brought a version of her from the dead, and whatever this little one was, she was her daughter.

She left the room, knowing the Admiral would follow, unless he wished to continue staring at the remnants of various bodies. She had gone through two of the four rooms. One of the two remaining was a surgery one, but held only various equipment, and the terminals were only for surveillance and machinery operating.

The final one remaining was a laboratory, and she began to go through the inventory of equipment and substance. While several were living tissue, with indication of a common DNA, her daughter's she assumed, others were various chemicals that meant little to her. She was no scientist, and she knew that bringing Heyrina back to life must have involved both science and Sith necromancy.

Baska felt slight frustration; but it took way more than such things for her to lose focus. While chaos was attached to Sith by many whether they simply hated them or more likely feared them. She knew how to be the eye of the storm, sharpening focus and insight from white hot anger and soul-wrenching pain.

Mulling over her options, she briefly closed her eyes, standing still as if no other being was present. Then she felt the murmurs in the Force, the tremors conjuring memories of her training, of the monster she had slain and whose secrets she would unveil one by one, until they were all hers.

Without a word, the tall blonde moved to the back of the hallway facing the entrance. There was nothing visible but she knew better. The opening mechanism was on the other side and nobody who wasn't Force-wielding could open it from this side.

So be it.

Without touching the wall, she fiddled with the mechanism on the other side, surprised to find no Sith trickery; at least until the door opened, revealing a large storage room with containers of various sizes and more tanks filled with more monstrosities.

Without hesitation, Baska stepped forward.