Dark Tidings - 5

The Mako's Run and Republic Attack Shuttle cleared the surface of Sorn V escorted by two Jedi starfighters. Maneuvering their way through the debris, flack, squadrons of vulture droid fighters, and random fire the ships rolled and pitched squeezing between the massive Confederacy cruisers and control ships. Broadside fire raced by the four smaller ships as they darted through the blockade.

Droid debris clattered across the hull of the shuttle as the copilot opened up the forward cannons to clear a path through the dense collection of ships. The passengers were jostled against the bulkhead.

"Commander! Follow the Mako past the Control ship to port," Shaak Ti ordered.

"Yes, General," the pilot replied and attempted to match Sparg's wild slip as he rolled the Mon Cal freighter toward the enemy.

Shaak Ti cast a worried look to Baatal, "I see what he's doing. If we can skim close enough to the surface of the Control ship, we will be under their gun range and hopefully it will buy us time."

Baatal nodded. "Caaaaptannn, have yooouuu plotted the hyperspace jump to Coooriscaaant?"

The clone trooper furiously worked the the controls of the navcomputer, "Not yet, sir! There seems to be some interference with getting a lock."

Shaak Ti could see the Mako through the viewport dive and light her engines as the ship winked out into hyperspace on its way to Kemplex X. Suddenly the shuttle lurched and pitched to starboard.

"General!" the clone pilot called. "We're caught in a tractor beam!"

Baatal cast his glance again at Shaak Ti, "Whaaaat caaaan we do-o-o against that?"

She reached for her lightsaber and tucked the Sith Holocron beneath her robes, "Not much, but there are alternatives to fighting."


-

Dark Tidings - 4

TS-429 adjusted the frequency of the holotranciever to make sure the channel was secure. The image flickered to life with the lean, shadowy figure cloaked in black.

"Mistress, we have located the wreckage of the lost transport ship." TS-429's even mechanical tone did not instill confidence in the expression of the recipient. "Initial forays into the structure have have proven difficult. The radiation detected in the area has diminished but is still potent enough to disrupt neural circuits in our droid forces."

"A minor detail," the willowy figure rasped.

"What are your dictates for incursion?"

"Begin landing your forces at once. I want all traces of that cat species eradicated from the moon. They are of no further use at this point and may become a liability. I already have solution in place to take care of the wrecked transport ship and it's contents. Transmit the coordinates of its location directly to Bane and his team. I don't want a repeat of what happened at Devaron."

A huge jolt rocked the command ship as warning klaxons sounded across the bridge.

"What was that?" the cloaked shape hissed.

TS-429 scanned the viewport as a battery of blaster fire ripped across the outer hull of the command ship. A B1 battle droid approached the tactical droid's station, "Sir, a fleet of Republic cruisers has just dropped from lightspeed into the system."

TS-429 whirled, "Deploy the fighters and hold them off until we can get additional transports on the ground. I don't want anything to get through the blockade."

"Handle this TS-429, and give Bane all the support you can. He is to report to me once he retrieves the holocron," the cloaked figure demanded.

"By your command," TS-429 replied and ended the transmission.

The relay signal was immediate. Swarms of vulture droid fighters raced from the confines of the blockade ships toward the approaching Republic fleet. The droid transports housed in the blockade fleet began to disembark heading planetward to carry out their mission of genocide.



-

Dark Tidings - 3

The holotranciever crackled to life. He hated having his breakfast interrupted by business. Oeneron leaned forward to stab the button and a blue light spilled into the deepest cracks of his office.

A hooded figure with a lithe and graceful silhouette hissed a lifeless greeting. "What do you have to tell me of the events at Memm's Estate, Fil'vye?"

"All I can assure you, Mistress is the artifact is safe." The Bothan leaned back and absently stroked the long tuft at his chin.

"So you have it, then?"

"Not exactly."

"This vexes me, Fil'vye. You assured me the facility would have complete discretion. That has been compromised, my apprentice has been killed and our property absconded. This does not induce confidence in the Fil'vye Transport company among myself nor my colleagues."

"Only, a minor setback I assure you. Shortly the item will be delivered to you and all will be well."

"See to it. It would be most unfortunate for your business if the Republic were to renew their interest in annexing Vaynai regardless of the wishes of the aristocracy."

"Now, now, threats are not necessary, Mistress. You will have your artifact and a bonus to boot."

"We shall see."

The image abruptly vanished. The Bothan pondered a moment. This may work out for him after all.



-

Dark Tidings - 2

Vents hissed as the solar sailer settled comfortably into the hangar. A lone figure waited for the boarding ramp to lower, its dark cloak and cowl hanging in draped folds to the deck plating. A tall lean form emerged and proceeded past the figure who hastened to match step.

“Lord Tyranus, you honor us with your presence,” the cloaked figure hissed.

“Things are developing on Dac that will be calling me away, I’m only here to make sure everything is on schedule,” the tall figure replied.

The two figures passed a gigantic window overlooking a sea of stars above the blue green orb of Belderone. Docked in tandem with the orbiting construction facility was a massive warship larger than any the Confederacy had employed before.

“We are having trouble locating the signal. There appears to be some sort of shielding blocking scans so we are sending search teams on foot. It’s possible that the radiation leaks from the cracked core is creating the interference. We need more droids.”

“Shielding does not concern me, I want that ship,” Tyranus commanded flatly.

“What’s so important what was she carrying?” the hooded figure hissed.

“There is an artifact on board that is important to the Sith. It contains technical readouts and specifications. When the data is analyzed it will unlock the key to an ancient weapon that can lay waste to any star system.”

The figure paused.

“You are referring to Naga Sadow’s lost ship. . . ?“

“That is not your concern. Your only goal is to find that ship and deliver the crystals.

“There have been . . . complications . . .in our mutagenics project. Only a mutant strain of local specimens would be able to build up a tolerance of the irradiated areas to gain access to the ship and search for this artifact. We have been unable to adapt the droids to the radiation, so this was our only option. But we have lost contact with the project facility, some sort of local interference.”

“I suggest you solve this delay by any means necessary. Lord Sidious wants a tour once the core is online.”

“Lord Sidious is coming here?”

“Yes, and he is displeased with your apparent lack of progress.”

The cloaked figure bowed, “We shall double our efforts.”

“I hope so, Lady Salacious, for your sake.”

Lord Tyranus strode forward into the dark recesses of the station. The cloaked figure whirled and made her way back to the central command center.

Dark Tidings - 1

Sorn V quietly orbited her mother as she had done for eons and millennia unaware she was the object of such a disturbance in the Force. The tiny band of lifeforms that huddled in her sheltering boles near their dying fire dozed blissfully under the growing menace high above them. Her emanations had now attracted a small cluster of unliving intruders circling her as an unwanted halo of mites ever seeking a fleeting taste of nectar for their parched wings.

Hanging in low orbit over the green blue globe was a collection of disc shaped objects, their torus silhouettes casting a menacing cloud over the serene coolness of the moon. These objects were then joined by other elongated shapes that completed a distinct formation. The Confederation forces maneuvered their blockade into a tight defensive position.

Aboard the command ship, the buzzing of mechanical servos, rasping of electronic static, and thrum of the power core drown out the imperceptible breath of the sole living passenger on board.

TS-429 approached the console where Tikkes sat at the holonet receiver. The blue projection of a cloaked figure hovered over the console and dwarfed the former Senator whose tentacles twitched nervously.

The projected image was lithe, feminine, and robed in black. A deep hood obscured its features but a gravelly female voice issued forth, "Count Dooku sends his regards, Tikkes. Events on Dac have escalated and now we seek your presence there for a conclave of Confederacy sympathizers."

"All is well then, Mistress?" the Quarren's tiny beak within his tentacles clicked.

"For the moment. We will need to proceed at Sorn V without the initial shipment. According to the Kaminoans, it will be some time before their research is complete and the initial specimens will be ready to work."

Tikkes leaned forward, "How will that possible without the specimens?"

The figure in the projection gestured casually, "You are to send a contingent of Quarren to Sorn V to begin mining operations at once."

"I will send a contingent of Quarren to Sorn V to begin mining operations at once," he echoed the acknowledgement.

"Good," the voice grated. "Once they have been dispatched you will meet Count Dooku on Dac."

"I will meet with Count Dooku on Dac."

The image abruptly vanished and the Quarren nodded to TS-429, "Prepare the ships to leave immediately!"

The tactical droid responded in a flat mechanical tone, "Do you wish for me to accompany you to your rendezvous at the homeworld?"

"No, I need for you to personally handle the enforcement of the mining operation on the Cathar world here. It is imperative that the initial mineral shipments arrive on schedule."

"As you wish"

The tactical droid clattered off to begin deploying his troops.

*****

Hra’tan collapsed awkwardly on his palette of soft furs and leathers within the makeshift tent he shared with Dan’oa. He attempted to stifle a grunt as his bruised ribs reminded him of the night’s parlay with Mrrowl.

“Is there anything I can do to comfort you, dearest mri’te?” she purred as she tried to help him

“No, I just need rest.” He rolled to his good side in an attempt to relieve any pressure on his injured ribs and dozed. His mind clouded over from the masul, a fitful sleep soon took him.

Eyes.

Eyes in the darkness.

White, milky orbs floating in a sea of black drifted toward him, their deathly cataract-clouded pupil slits stabbed into the darkest parts of his soul.

Hra’tan.

The voice, a rasping whisper, grated in his mind’s ears. He twitched and began to breathe heavily, unable to escape the oppressive presence. Dan’oa stirred next to him and nuzzled closer, undisturbed by the unseen presence.

Hra’tan!

The voice commanded attention now. Hra’tan wrinkled his nose at the perception of the foul stench of rot and decay accompanied by the voice.

Hra’tan, my cub. What do you know? What have you seen?

Hra’tan began to twitch more and more violently. A wave of nausea overwhelmed him, a trapping weight of paralysis overwhelmed his ability to flee. One great gnarled claw swathed in rotten weavings and stained leather strips reached toward his brow and slowly forced its way into his head.

Hra’tan’s eyes snapped open in an unseeing gaze as the intrusive presence searched his thoughts.

Shre’ka. With a mate. And cubs. Shadow clouds him. He is very near, I can taste his darkness. Soon the Sa’ruk Chel’vek will be upon him and he will be mine.

Hra’tan twitched lightly.

You have done well, my cub! Anger, hate and dissention are festering in their midst. It is fueled by the guilt from their past and their fear of the future. An army of unliving warriors searches for them even now and soon you will all be mine. Now rest.

Hra’tan twitched one final time as the unwelcome presence of the foul intruder withdrew. His sightless gaze remained fixed as his shallow breathing began to wane.

Dan’oa stirred again oblivious to her mate’s distress.

Ca’el’esh reclined with a sigh. Within the dank confines of his cavern beneath the boles of the Dark Tree, Sa’ruk wrapped his fetid form. He caressed the clean edge of his brother’s blade with satisfaction.

“Soon, Fey'qua'ri. I will be coming for you as well.”

*****

From this distance beyond the village it was now hard to see, especially in the fading moonlight before dawn. Living plants had been coerced by Fey'qua'ri to camouflage the hide-covered dwellings of The People and the strange cold skyboats of the offworlders that had returned them home. Hopefully the cover would obscure the Ra'van'ti huts from the prying eyes of others. It was the eyes of the Sa’ruk Chel’vek (fierce shadow spirits) now that concerned the venerable shaman.

In Fey'qua'ri’s mind he could still see the glow from the fire and the soflty swaying embers of The People as they dispersed from the gathering.

Shas'tan sat next to Fey'qua'ri and passed the pipe back to him. The aged Cathar took a long draught of the smoke and regarded recent events. Tendrils of the sweet aroma wafted across his gray muzzle lit from the glow of the bowl.

"Many things have come to pass these last few moon cycles," the Mo'at began.

Shas'tan nodded.

"I sense that there is still much for Shre'ka to do."

Shas'tan nodded again, "We have seen many things, you and I. We have fought many times together and now have traveled across the ocean of stars to other lands I never thought possible. Although the purpose for the journey was of evil intent, I have hope for Shre’ka that it will make her more confident in herself, in her ability.” Shas’tan drew on the pipe and handed it to Fey'qua'ri.

Fey'qua'ri took the pipe and nodded this time. “I sense a stirring in Sa'uuk. My brother, Ca’el’esh, is at work. His rotting claws have somehow forced their way into our midst again and now I see this evil is wrought by him."

"Surely he must be dead by now."

The old Mo'at regarded Shas'tan with a flat look. The clan leader knew better than to question Fey'qua'ri's intuition. “Don’t underestimate Sa’ruk.”