A flying tomb.
What other way was there to describe the cold durasteel of the shuttle as it traversed through the inky blackness of the void? It was claustrophobic at best, and stifling at worst. Whenever Thane (or Darth Renatus, as the ‘kids’ called him these days) found himself trapped—certainly unwillingly but of his own choice—within a transport for overly long distances, he tried to find a good book. Or a relaxing bed. Or, frankly, anything else.
For this jaunt, ‘anything else’ came in the form of one Uji Tameike.
Deploying his best facsimile of “no time to explain, get in the van”, Skotos had recruited the Fist of the Brotherhood to partake in a share of the Deputy Grand Master’s pain. Sharing was caring, was it not? So it was that they found themselves freshly out of hyperspace and approaching their destination: Y'thal.
Not exactly a vacation destination. What even was for Thane? Everything was business. Go there, do this. Somehow, he had gone from the blissful autonomy of Justicar and found himself hoodwinked. Burdened with glorious responsibilities.
Joy.
All this and more ran through the thoughts behind Thane’s black-gold eyes, escaping only as a long sigh. The darkness of his sclera muted his gaze but drew the eye towards his gold stare. “Facility is shuttered,” he stated with his dancing lilt of an accent. Somewhere in his mind, the sentence had began long before he verbalized it. That was just how he was. Always using just enough words to make sense. Anything more was wasted effort. “Cache contents unknown, but desired.”
Turning from the viewport he had been standing near, his silhouette now rimmed by the glow of the rising planet below, Thane focused on Uji. He released his grip on the datapad outlining the collected information and allowed the unseen tendrils of the Force to pass the device over softly. “Source was chatty. Expect interference.”
Uji extended his hand, retrieving the datapad and glancing over the details—most of which were redacted, much to the Fist’s irritation. He had already attempted more than once to pry information from Thane during their journey to Y’thal, only to be stymied at every turn.
“You know, Atra, we do have people for these kinds of missions now,” Uji said with an exaggerated sigh. The familiarity between the two surfaced only in the absence of others, their usual professional demeanor relaxing somewhat.
“You were just as tired of the offices, council meetings, and the like as I was,” the Deputy Grand Master replied with a small wave of his hand.
The shuttle shuddered as it pierced the upper atmosphere. Outside the viewports, waves of sapphire light rippled across the hull as the heat shields flared to life. Then, just as quickly, the turbulence faded. Their descent smoothed, the pilot guiding them with practiced precision toward the designated coordinates.
Uji tapped his cane against the shuttle floor, contemplating Atra’s words before shaking his head. “He’s hiding something.” He didn’t even bother attempting to shield his thoughts, knowing full well that Atra would sense his suspicion.
“Setting down now. The facility appears to be powered down, but our scans can’t seem to penetrate the exterior—some kind of shielding,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom.
Uji simply lifted an eyebrow, but Thane quickly dismissed the concern as he approached the rear doorway. The shuttle settled with a soft thump, followed by the hiss of the rear hatch decompressing. A sharp gust of frigid air swept in, carrying the scent of metal and the faint tang of ozone, the cold sending a shiver down Uji’s spine.
The two men descended the ramp, their boots striking the metal in unison as they took deep breaths of the sharp evening air, allowing themselves a moment to adjust. The compound stretched before them in eerie silence—a collection of outbuildings huddled within a short exterior fence. The largest structure featured a massive set of blast doors embedded into its durasteel walls.
They advanced cautiously, expecting alarms, a response, or even an ambush—but nothing awaited them. There were no signs of life, and neither sensed anyone or anything in their immediate vicinity.
Uji narrowed his eyes, scanning for the smallest movement, a flicker of light, any sign of occupancy, but found nothing. Storage facilities—whether clandestine or overt—were rarely abandoned outright. This smelled of someone, or something, having arrived before them. Yet there were no footprints, no obvious signs of entry other than their own.
“Did you intentionally walk us into a trap, Thane?” Uji asked, tightening his grip on his cane.
One could say that she simply picked the largest, bulkiest man she could find in a short time for this mission, but that wasn’t the main reason…
Who better to stage a heist with than the very Herald himself? Bale Andros, the big boss-man of the secretive Shroud. Aphotis had been working as Praetor under him for some time, and she herself had her claws set into the same syndicate as a former Herald. How the male Zabrak took over was unclear, all the Sith knew was that it happened hard and fast—all while the Shroud’s powerbase had been in flux. Perhaps he managed to best them at their own game, in which case she would love to see proof of his skill in action.
All it took were some of the finer beverages that she had taken away from Zag’s hidden stock to truly get Bale on board. The Zygerrian would be better off without them anyway.
If it weren’t for the towering bladed heels she wore, she and Andros would be around the same height, with his width being about four times hers—something she knew would prove quite useful in bulldozing ‘obstacles’. Her mask hissed in short succession as she thought about it and chuckled within the confined space of the shuttle. Thankfully both of them were used to these metal buckets.
The palms of her clawed hands were itchy as the temptation to get out and into the action was becoming unbearable.
It seemed like just yesterday he’d been hunched over in his swoop shop working on an engine, covered from head to toe in grease. Yet here he was, sitting across from a giant, strange, and all-too-pfassking-alluring creature, enjoying the best alcohol credits could buy, on his way to a massive payday. He had heard much of Aphotis, or Alaisy as many had called her, often in hushed whispers, and from what he had come to know of her in what little time they’d worked together, she was the kind of person who gets things done. By all accounts, that often involved violence, but then, that was a matter of course for anyone in their line of work. Even a silver tongued scoundrel had to resort to it from time to time, and neither he nor the Sith witch fit that description.
He threw his head back, downing what remained of his drink in one big, burning gulp. He tapped a finger on his bracer’s computer interface, flicked towards the holographic table between them. The room lit up in blue as a series of wireframe structures appeared before them. There wasn’t much information readily available concerning Y’thal, but, through his connections, he’d manage to scrounge up the exterior layout of the compound and the partial plans to the so-called vault.
“We don’t have much to go on,” he said, his voice low-pitched and textured. “But it’ll get us inside.” He tapped his finger again and five emblems appeared, two blue and one red on the same level, then a yellow and a green below. “The blues mark ideal landing points. The red the main access to the vault.”
Aphotis leaned forward, the blue light reflecting off of her jet black suit, highlighting the generous contours of her silhouette. Bale caught himself staring and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He could think of a better way to pass the time in her company than pouring over old schematics but this wasn’t the time nor the place. Besides, if he was a betting man, this one would sooner slit his throat than share his bed. Say one thing about Bale Andros, say he is cautious.
“What of the yellow?” The knife’s edge in her voice brought him right back on topic.
He cleared his throat then said, “That’s our way in.”
“Not the front door?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked. With a toothy grin, he continued, jabbing a thumb at the yellow icon, “That there’s a maintenance shaft. Well hidden. I figure there’s no power, so we’ll have to force it open. Then we go down and effectively bypass security measures. Some of them at least.”
“Hm,” she sat back, pensive, her lips pursed, arms folded beneath her chest.
“Hey, I like blasting droids as much as the next, so if you wanna go in blasters blazing, I’m your guy.” His eyes shot to the lightsaber hanging on her hip. “Or saber, huh, swooshing?”
She wore a sly smirk—or perhaps a mocking one?—as she craned her long neck and nodded towards the last emblem, the green. “And that one?”
“That’s our endgame. A cargo elevator that goes up from the vault to the surf—” He was cut short by their pilot’s voice over the comms.
There was a tinge of frustration in the Zyggerian’s words as she said, “Looks like someone beat us down there. Got a read on a shuttle.”
A wicked smile split Bale’s lips.
“Good. I sent a care package ahead of us. A little contingency plan courtesy of the Shroud Syndicate. It should be waiting for them as we speak.”
Uji returned the younger man’s jest with a nod of fatherly approval, drawing the barest hint of a scowl from Thane before brushing past him and continuing toward the facility. Despite their banter, a nagging concern remained—where were the guards? The lookouts? Even if another team had arrived ahead of them, there should be some activity. Unless Thane’s informant had overlooked alternate entrances to the compound.
He paused, scanning his surroundings with fresh scrutiny. Details he had missed before now stood out—the cargo haulers, left idle long enough for rust to creep along their undersides. Shipping crates, abandoned within their containers. He peered through the windows of the outbuildings, finding them not stripped bare, but eerily empty.
This place wasn’t abandoned.
It had never been real in the first place.
“A smuggler’s front… That’s all this is,” Uji murmured, his voice carrying just enough for his companion to hear. “But why so elaborate? And who were they trying to fool?”
“Took you that long?” Thane quipped as he caught up.
Uji exhaled a soft sigh. He could be enjoying a drink and overseeing the Iron Fleet’s operations. Instead, he was on a cold backwater planet, breaking into a smuggler’s den. His injured leg was beginning to ache from the frost, and he suspected the weather wasn’t likely to improve anytime soon.
The two stopped before a sealed entryway. Thane crossed his arms, tapping his finger impatiently before giving Uji a knowing smirk.
Uji caught the look, narrowing his eyes. “What?”
Thane’s smirk widened. “Wondering how long it will take you.“
It was like dealing with a child. Thane almost seemed to be using this mission as an excuse to have fun—not something the notoriously sarcastic but serious man was known for.
“You already know where the entrance is, then?” Uji asked, irritation creeping into his tone.
Thane lifted his shoulders in the barest hint of a shrug. “Maybe.” He uncrossed his arms. “Or maybe I am just more familiar with how these operations work.”
Uji frowned. It had been years since he had taken on an assignment personally. He had spent the better part of a decade building a network of associates and reliable agents for this kind of work. But before that, he had a lifetime of hunting answers—and targets.
He suspected Thane was bluffing. But if he did know, he was testing Uji.
Instead of pressing further, Uji took a single breath, in and out, refocusing his attention on the details around him. His mind retraced everything they had encountered so far.
The Rusted Cargo Haulers – Left too long to be in active use, yet positioned as if recently parked. A front, not a functional site.
The Shipping Containers – Filled with crates but not stacked properly for storage or transport. Placed to sell an illusion, not to carry anything of value.
The Blast Doors – The supposed main entrance, yet no tracks, no wear on the ground, no keypads, no sensors.* A decoy.*
Stepping back, Uji expanded his view, searching not for what was there, but for what wasn’t.
Then he saw it.
A cluster of crates and equipment, stacked haphazardly as if left behind. But something was off—their placement didn’t fit the illusion. They weren’t arranged for storage, nor did they contribute to the deception.
They were just out of place.
With purpose, Uji strode past Thane, crossing the yard toward the stacks of crates and equipment. He hesitated before moving anything, instead slipping off a glove and running his hand along the metal exterior of one of the crates. His fingertips found the barest hint of a seam—a hairline gap where there shouldn’t be one. Pressing firmly, he felt a soft click.
A pressure plate.
The ground beneath the crates trembled ever so slightly. With a mechanical whir, a concealed panel slid open at the base of the outbuilding. Faint lights flickered on, illuminating a narrow staircase descending into the depths.
Uji turned to find Thane standing a few feet behind him. Though his features were impassive, it was clear he was suppressing a smile.
“You never knew where it was, did you?” Uji said flatly.
Thane stepped past him, offering a casual shrug. “Didn’t have to. I knew you’d figure it out.”
He started down the stairs, then paused, glancing back at Uji’s cane.
“Do you need assistance? Or do you think you can handle the stairs on your own?”
Uji sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he followed the younger man into the depths.
It hadn’t been easy to find, and it had taken a good while. Thankfully, even cargo elevators needed maintaining, and not-so-thankfully, they were quite tight on space. The burly mass of muscles that was Bale Andros had torn the hatch right off its hinges. Combined with a laconic and cordial gesture, he said, “Ladies first.”
Despite her towering height, Aphotis used her experience and training as a dancer to bend and crouch like an eel through the narrow maintenance shaft ahead of the duo. The durasteel walls and gratings were covered in rust and grime, not having seen any upkeep for years; she slithered through it as if her body was fluid.
At the back, Bale’s heavy frame—and equally impressive height—pressed through, his arms warping the sheets of metal. Andros’s broad shoulders scraped against the sides of the tunnel, using his raw strength to break through barriers that might have slowed anyone else down.
The real trial was navigating the maze of mechanical traps and various types of turrets set to keep out intruders.
Aphotis halted, feeling a slight hum vibrate through the metal. She turned in the tight corridor and raised her claw at the Zabrak behind her. Bale halted and watched her scurry forward. Electric-blue eyes squinted at the barrel sticking out from a corner.
“Laser turret,” her modulated voice echoed, followed by a sharp hiss from her mask. .
Andros grunted, the muscles in his hands tensed. He cracked his neck to prepare for action. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No. How would you get past me? There’s nowhere to turn; I will go on ahead,” the Sith replied. There was no strain in her smoky voice.
She noticed a slight elevation in the tunnel that looked like rails, likely allowing the gun emplacement to move. With a hiss, the witch took a deep breath and moved swiftly, the platforms of her boots brushing against the shaft’s rusty floor.
As she got close enough, she was able to spot the turret’s power conduit. Prone, she reached out with a clawed hand and used the dark side of the Force to summon a wave of electricity. With a sizzle and a pop, the device exploded. The turret whirred to life, only for its lights to immediately blink off as it lost power.
“Sweet!” The mountain of a man behind her grunted, eager to move on further.
Clang
Krrrrrrt
The metallic sounds made Aphotis’s cold heart beat in her throat as a compartment slid open. Crimson barriers of pure energy filled the room as the last blast door lowered.
“That is going to be difficult to pass through,” the Sith complained.
She moved into the corridor to let Bale pass by her, not that he minded being behind her. His golden eyes peered at the intimidating laser fences as he stuck his horned head out from the tunnels.
“Yeah, those would toast you if you touched them, but we should be thankful there’s at all a path ahead,” Andros’s voice was filled with excitement.
He ran a hand through his grey-streaked beard as he noticed a console beyond the grid.
“Should be easy enough to…” the Herald grunted as he ripped loose a durasteel panel.
A grin formed on his face as he nonchalantly dropped it down. While the lasers blackened the tumbling metal, it still passed through and smacked the console hard.
The crimson glow flickered until it dissipated completely.
“After you, again,” the Mercenary said with amusement in his voice.
As the Sith Witch pressed past him once more, her body brushing against his as she did so, Bale watched. His smirk faltered. This time, he wasn’t enjoying the perfection of her womanly forms. No. This time, he noticed something in the way she moved, the graceful movements, the sleek black form lurking through the darkness of the ill-lit corridors, the filtered breathing of her mask, the eerie blue of her stare. He found himself doubting. It was a creeping thought, one born of experience with her kind. Experience with his own daughter. Could Aphotis be trusted? When they found the would-be treasure, would he find her disinclined to share? He knew all-too-well the treachery of the Force. He had watched his daughter wield her powers to terrible results, manipulating a man into shooting himself. He shuddered as he recalled the images of Kaela striding past the body of the Collective captain, smoke still rising from his temple. The eruption of blaster fire that had followed as she used her mind tricks to force a squad of Collective soldiers to shoot and execute one another still rang in his ears.
His own vulnerability wasn’t lost on him. Muscles and blasters would do little if this giant devil of a woman decided he was no longer of use to her.
What in all the blasted hells had he gotten himself into?
He knew they weren’t alone. Someone else was lurking in these halls. They too would be after the vault. Maybe he could use their presence to gain the upper hand.
He shook his head. He wouldn’t betray her first. Not if he could help it.
But he had to be ready.
Good natured ribbing aside, Thane figured it was about time to bring Uji all the way in on what they were after. Even if he didn’t exactly intend on it staying in the Fist’s hands for long, if at all.
The transition into the darkness below didn’t hamper Thane’s eyes all that much. He was always told it was like taking a step from the blinding whites into an inky curtain that slowly pulled away but never truly gave out. For him—or rather, his kind—it was a purple filter, so to speak. Gradients of vibrant color that couldn’t be effectively described to those that couldn’t see into that spectrum. Would be like, well…describing color to the sightless.
Well, he could certainly try. It would at least be an amusing exercise. But a futile one.
“So,” the Deputy began, finding moments to speak between the rhythmic click of Uji’s cane. “Supposed smuggler data cache. Holds co-ords and access keys for supplies. Potential artifacts.”
And I wants it, he added to himself jokingly.
Shifting his stride to glance back over his shoulder, Tameike lifted an eyebrow and sighed. “Again, we have people for this, Atra.”
“People screw up.”
“Then get better people.”
“I did,” Thane replied with a vague gesture at Uji.
That made the Fist sigh. Again. Totally stealing Thane’s shtick! Still, the older man did it anyway and strode ahead with purpose. Before long, their meandering through the dilapidated halls led them to a large room with various monitors. None were active, mind you, but they weren’t exactly difficult to sus out. And an equally suspicious glowing button on the console kept drawing Thane’s eye.
“Seems we found the security room,” Uji remarked with Thane’s nodded response. He rested his cane against the console, opting to grip the edge for support instead. Leaning forward, the Human allowed his eyes to close and reached out with the Force instead. The living energies surged out and crawled like serpentine tentacles through the rubble and debris, hunting for anything living.
And the Deputy just watched with his arms crossed. Well, that and inched closer to the console.
Several moments passed in comfortable silence (which was far from uncommon for the pair and frankly most wouldn’t be surprised to find they never talked) before Uji let out a long, centering breath and glanced towards his companion. “There are others ahead of us. In another section of the facility.”
“Unfortunate,” Thane remarked.
“We’ll need to either speed up or hinder them.”
“Or…” the Firrerreo let the lilting word hang from his tongue like its life was held upon a precarious edge. Then he pushed the glowing button. “What does this do?”
With an almost pained groan, the facility thrummed to life. Choking to life, really. With fitful lurches and grunts the lights came on and the screens started withering between white noise and vid feeds. It wasn’t a constant current either. On and off, off then on. It continuously struggled as if there wasn’t enough current to keep the systems running in their entirety. Somewhere within the halls they could hear security doors clanging together, then hissing open. Always from a different source.
Additionally, they could hear the warning thrum of turrets as if to say ‘hello’ before a sad ‘good-bye’ as they shut down once more.
Uji stared at the screens, then the hallway, then back to Thane. “Really?”
To that, Thane shrugged.
Uji leaned back as if to crack his lower back, then straightened, drawing on just a measure of the Force to solidify his stance and posture. He depressed the trigger just below the head of his cane, releasing the lightsaber concealed within. As he withdrew the blade, its brilliant white glow reflected off the various screens, which flickered erratically as the station struggled to revive itself.
Thane had the barest smile touching his lips as he watched his companion’s demeanor shift. This was the man to whom he had entrusted the Council’s military. The camaraderie and jest between them remained intact, even as they prepared to face whatever awaited them within the facility.
Thane, for his part, simply interlaced his fingers, curling them outward and feeling each knuckle pop as the tension released. He then clenched his fingertips tightly for a moment, steeling himself physically and mentally. Without further hesitation, the two set off deeper into the compound, taking the opposite corridor from where they had entered. Uji led the way, following the trail he had sensed earlier. They might not know exactly where the cache was, but whoever was ahead of them certainly would.
It wasn’t long before they encountered the first of the automated defenses—a twin-barreled turret that whirred to life, locking onto the intruders. Uji raised his lightsaber. His duelist’s blade was ill-suited for deflecting blaster fire, but it would do in a pinch.
Renatus simply extended his palm and pressed downward against the air. His immense control within the Force eliciting a screech of shearing metal, the turret buckled, then collapsed to the floor ahead of them. Even as it fell, both men moved in tandem. A pair of hidden compartments slid open, revealing dart guns that let off the faintest sound as they fired.
Uji’s lightsaber snapped forward, disintegrating the first dart on contact. The second, Thane merely brushed aside, letting it whistle past him.
“Did you really have to press the glowing red button?” Uji remarked as they stepped past the wrecked defenses.
“You don’t make a button glow unless you expect someone to press it,” Thane responded almost immediately.
At the next intersection, Uji glanced left, then right, watching the flickering lights down each corridor. He exhaled, releasing the power that amplified him physically, instead reaching out with the Force to locate their quarry and ensure they were closing in.
“This way.” Uji set off again, his cane held stiffly in one hand, his lightsaber in the other, maintaining his concentration as he tracked their prey.
There was a reason that Aphotis only picked droids and non-Force sensitives to go with her. They had to work harder to get on a Jedi or Sith’s level, but most of all, they required different things. Should the cache be uninteresting to her, perhaps Bale had a use for it. Should she find an artifact worth her time, then she’d likely receive little resistance from him.
Unfortunately, she also realized that the more ambitious one was, the more likely one would betray them—it had happened far too often. Anyone associated with the Shroud was even less trustworthy—she was aware that Bale knew that Aphotis had been the very leader of that Syndicate.
She wasn’t going to be the first to open the cache, that was for sure.
’What if the cache is locked? What if he refuses to open it first?’ She thought to herself as she assessed the risks.
This was a request to the council of fear, her Garden of Trepidations. The many that had been victim to her tendrils, the paranoid spirits that lingered, would have an argument with her rational calculative thoughts.
Preparation was everything, all factors had to be included. Once her tail began flicking impatiently, once her claws clenched, then she would wait one more heartbeat. Decisiveness was now precalibrated, but her actions would not be premature. Zero point eight seconds would be more than enough time.
“Should we open it?” Bale asked with doubt, standing next to the smoldering remains of two destroyed laser turrets and presumably the cache.
Time passes in strange ways when you are in deep thought…
Bale was about to activate the vault’s release mechanism when a voice stopped him in his tracks. A familiar voice, cold, permanently exasperated, the haughty kind of voice that told you instantly just how much of a blasted nuisance you were to the speaker.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Herald.” It’s the extra scorn in the way Darth Renatus spat his title that really grated him. The disdain was no surprise, though. It didn’t sit well with many on the Council the way he had forced himself onto the Shroud Syndicate, taking over Herald and filling a void with the help of his long time friend, Idris, an accomplice who just so happened to be sitting on the same Council as Voice of the Brotherhood. Still, Bale would have thought his achievements, caging the rabid dog that had become the Syndicate, would have earned him some respect by now.
Apparently not.
The hulking Zabrak spun on his heels to face the speaker. They were two. Sure enough, he found Renatus, but next to him stood the Fist of the Brotherhood, Uji, leaning on a cane, a grimace hanging on his features. Both looked at him with an arrogance that set his blood boiling.
“You!” Bale hissed, pointing at Thane before pointing to his companion with his other hand, “and you? What in all the blazes are the two of you doing here?”
“The same as you, apparently, thanks to him,” answered Uji as he too pointed to Thane.
Thane sighed, pointing back at Uji as he spoke, “You will be thanking me, indeed, when we depart with our due.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Bale growled, somehow managing to appear that much bigger as he blocked the vault. They stood there a moment, three of the most powerful men in the Brotherhood, pointing fingers at one another as Alaisy watched the scene unfold with arms crossed beneath her chest, a sharp, black eyebrow cocked.
“Why come? You know, you have people for this,” Bale said, breaking the silence.
Both Fist and Deputy Grand Master sighed in unison, then glanced at one another.
“Let us through,” ordered Thane.
“Not. Happening.” Bale cracked his neck.
Alaisy rolled her eyes then raked her fingers across the vault’s control panel. As it slid open, she purred, “You boys figure this out. Meanwhile, I’ll take a peek inside.”
Okay, so…this hadn’t gone to plan.
What was the plan? No clue, but it wasn’t this.
They talked a big game as the Deputy Grand Master and Fist of the Brotherhood stared down the Herald and his companion, but they were exhausted. As it turned out, pushing the glowing button didn’t make their job easier in the least. No, it had been a gauntlet of shame, exhaustion, and misadventure.
All in all a completely cromulent bonding exercise.
Behind his stoic mask, Thane was regaining his stamina. Uji was favouring his cane more than usual. These were all signs of a no good very bad day. Yet it didn’t seem to be getting better as Aphotis—or Alaisy as Thane had known her—slipped into the darkness of the vault with Bale positioning his not-so-lacking of size between them and her.
Rude.
“We have dibs,” Thane remarked suddenly. That drew a slow turn of the head from Uji as the older man stared at him incredulously. What? Weren’t dibs supposed to be sacred?
Another cracking of joints came from the brute of a Zabrak who most certainly ate all his greens and drank all his milk growing up. “Sucks for you,” he stated.
This resulted in a long, drawn out sigh from the Deputy. His eyes fluttered closed to give him time to focus his thoughts, which was, hindsight being what it is, a bad idea. When they opened again, Bale was already in motion with an increasingly large, meaty fist approaching Thane’s face. His eyebrows knit into a “seriously? We’re doing this?” before he pivoted on his back foot and leaned. Debris and dirt shifted along with his boot, but it was the flow of air and not knuckles that brushed across Thane’s sharp features.
The two then began a dance as brawler met avoidance. It had to be. Where Bale was strong to an enviable degree (and veiny…so veiny) Thane was fast instead. His lithe frame had no issues following the commands necessary to avoid strikes by the barest of margins. When that failed him, a flick of the hand brought sheets of metal from the broken walls to block for him. Finally, Thane managed to wrap some around Bale’s fist and attempt to jerk the arm back, locking the Zabrak in a struggle of force.
The Firrerro took that moment to look towards Uji, who was standing there enjoying the show. “You could fight too,” Thane stated flatly.
Uji shrugged. “Yes. I could. Do I want to, though? No, there’s people for that.”
Thane grunted with a chuckle. “Right. I’m ‘people’.”
“Oh good, your brain still works.”
Bale interrupted with a growl and the sound of bent metal. “Do you two take anything seriously?”
The pair of old friends blinked. “No,” Uji stated quickly while Thane made a face and shrugged.
The Herald snarled in annoyance and pushed the attack again. Feeling the threat for what it was, Thane finally brought everything he had to bear. There was an almost tangible weight to the air as the Deputy let his power flow freely and invisible tethers grasped onto broken panelling and any material it could find. One after another slammed into the Zabrak, breaking against his physique at first but building up to finally slam him into the wall. Bale, as a testament to his credit, managed to push back against it. Ever so slowly he freed himself.
Oh come on, Thane added with a mental snarl. More and more hit the man until he was just a head trapped in a cocoon of dilapidated alloys smashed against the wall. “Just…hang out there for a minute,” the Firrerreo ordered between heaving breaths.
Metal groaned and Thane almost thought even that wasn’t enough to hold Bale before the man settled with a tired expression. “Maybe…a minute,” the Zabrak agreed with a sigh.
Thane still held out a hand for added concentration towards the entrapment, so he turned his gaze to Uji instead of relenting. He nodded towards the opening as if to say “well, go get her.”
Uji rolled his eyes and sighed. He tapped his cane a few times as if to summon the will to move onward, then did just that. He, too, disappeared into the darkness of the vault. Several moments passed in silence before a voice called out from within. “So, there’s no one here.”
“What?”
Even Bale perked up at that. “What do you mean?”
Uji came back, gesturing back over his shoulder. “Looks like a rear entrance. Well, at least a newly made one. Aphotis is gone. And whatever was inside.”
Thane sighed, releasing his concentration and turning to Bale as the metal fell away and the man touched the ground once more. “Unfortunate,” he grunted, then chuckled with a barely perceptible grin.
Oh well. At least he’d had some fun.
Alaisy’s steady, serpentine stride managed to follow a single line as she made her way up the ramp and onto the shuttle. The clack of her sharp heals against the durasteel was the only sound echoing within the chamber before she triggered the ascent autopilot sequence. With a thin smile across her dark lips, she ran her taloned fingers across the datadrive before holding it between herself and the light, trapped between two claws.
“Now…what are you hiding?” she asked the object and herself. She certainly hoped it was going to be something worth the effort.