Sorry, I know its taken a while for me to post this chapter, I had writers block and my brain was melting from the heat. Living in the city during the summer is so not fun, its always hotter than everywhere else. Anyway, hope you enjoy this instalment, gave me quite a bit of trouble.

Chapter Twenty – Silencing the Son

Emerging from his quarters at 0555, dressed in workout clothes for his morning routine Quinn stepped outside expecting to see the usual smattering of officers and enlisted troops up this early. He knew, his obstinate refusal to take advantage of the rather lax conditions on Balmorra was a constant source of amusement for his colleagues.

But despite his disgrace and bitterness, he would still give his best to the Empire.

All semblance of normality however, was shattered by small, but still noticeable larger than routine, crowd of officers and the enlisted, gathered around the open space generally used for sparring. Quinn was surprised to see Baras's apprentice, the Twi'lek nowhere currently in sight, holding her lightsaber and with weights attached to her wrists and ankles.

She was holding the blade in front of her body and moving so slow, Quinn could perfectly follow her movements. This on its own was odd, as from what he'd seen of her fighting, her style was largely focused on speed. The way she was moving was odd too, she was using the fourth from of lightsaber combat, he knew that much from his reading, but it was like she had adapted the form. Adding a pivot or a block where there otherwise was none.

Bring the saber, up, down and around it was almost like she was duelling an invisible foe. The apprentice would pause occasionally and just hold a stance before starting to move again. Observing her, it was rather simple to realise the purpose behind such training, ingraining the movements in her muscle memory so they'd become instinctive.

She paused once again in her movements before leaping high into the air and stabbing the ground. Rising, she spun her blade in a figure eight to block an imaginary blow, then stabbing once more. Taking in a long deep breath, she flipped back with a slash, landing in a fighting stance.

One of the soldiers whistled and when Quinn would have otherwise frowned at the inappropriate action he couldn't due to his own transfixed state, his mind deeming it fit to reminder him that the chance to witness a Sith train out in the open like this was a rare occurrence.

He also somewhat absently noted, it was a different form from the one she used yesterday, having gone back over the lightsaber combat files after he'd seen her in combat to make sure his report was as accurate as possible, though he couldn't tell which it was.

It was the thought of the report he'd sent to Baras which finally snapped him out of his trance and he shook his head before beginning his own routine.

Showered and dressed in her armour, Aindri walked down the corridor towards Quinn's office with Vette yawning behind her, both having eaten a large breakfast in preparation for the day ahead. She'd seen him in what the base used as exercise yard, having decided to let Vette have more of a lie in than usual, and had been impressed by the dedication he was giving to keeping physically fit.

"My lord," Quinn stood to attention, relaxing when she gave a small wave of her hand for him to continue, "I have the necessary information on Ensign Durmat."

He handed her a folder which she flipped through, scanning the pages. Ensign Thomas Durant, real name Thomas Rylon, compared to his father his military career had been relatively lacklustre, passed over for promotion more than once and kept from important postings.

"He is being detained in the brig of the Outpost Victory, my Lord. It seems he is awaiting questioning by the Jedi investigator Baras has me tracking. If you move now you should be able to get there before she does. My men are under orders to delay her if it can be done without alerting suspicion."

Picking up on his use of a gendered pronoun, Aindri tilted her head, "You have information about the investigator."

"Yes, my Lord, but I am afraid it is very little," Quinn admitted with a frown, "I have only about managed to pull a holo from a tapped security camera."

He handed her his datapad with a static image, revealing a dark-skinned woman wearing yellow robs.

Aindri studied the grainy still for a moment before nodding as she gave back the datapad, "We know her face and general description, it is a start. Is there anything else?" She asked, arching a brow when Quinn hesitated.

"Yes, my Lord," Quinn replied, bringing up another document, "Recalling your intentions to mask yours and Darth Baras's hands, I have complied a list of my contacts within the Imperial Armed Forces near the rebel outpost who have problems which have been proving…" He paused, grimacing as he tried to find the right words, "Difficult to fix."

"Thank you, Quinn, this will help immensely," Aindri replied with a hum of approval as she looked over the list, Vette supressing a giggle at how Quinn straightened even further at the praise, "Alert me with an ETA if the investigator heads for the Crater outpost. Durmat is a priority."

"I will see to it personally, my Lord." The Lieutenant bowed, "I will not delay you any longer. Good hunting."

What with Markan Plains and now this, Vette didn't need to see Aindri's face to know she was frowning heavily at having to clean up so many messes on behalf of Imperial forces and more than one officer had been on the receiving end of the Sith's cold and clipped tone.

One thing the former treasure hunter had learned over their time together was Aindri had little patience for incompetence or ineffectiveness, something which Balmorra had in spades. She had looked ready to bite the heads off so or so officer more than once about Balmorra being the armies dumping ground.

If it wasn't that Vette knew the Sith expected the same thing of herself the Twi'lek would probably complain more.

They cleared out another set of caves of their resistance fighters, before dealing with a contingent using stealth generators. There Aindri once again displayed the benefits of being Force sensitive as it made knowing exactly where they were much simpler.

Aindri may have turned a blind eye when Vette picked up a generator when she thought no one was looking.

They reached Outpost Victory, which was situated in a massive two-tier crater, the levels connected by a series of ramps attached to rocky walls, soon after that and while it was heavily defended, they tore through the numbers quickly, wreaking havoc and carnage in the process. They'd also tagged a set of three shield generators for orbital bombardment after Vette had managed to snag a laser defence satellite's access codes for good measure.

To anyone else unaware of their objective, the attack on Victory Outpost simply looked like the forces of the Empire had finally gotten off their collective backsides to remove a long-time pain in the ass, Vette's words not Aindri's, by causing a bit of much needed mayhem.

It was something Vette had realised she and the Sith had in common, causing mayhem and being good at it.

They found Ensign Thomas Durmat in the detention block, just as Quinn informed them, the official reason for his detainment, as written in the report Vette had accessed whilst slicing the bases mainframe looking for him and the bases floor plan, being 'disciplinary reasons'.

"Pipe down, Durmat," A gruff voice demanded, and Aindri paused outside, "There's something going on outside. I'm trying to listen."

"Come on, Zixx, throw me a bone," Another voice, this one higher, whined, "Who's this agent that's comin' to interrogate me? At least answer that will ya?"

Rolling his eyes at Durmat's attempt to wheedle information, Zixx remained silent and frowned heavily at the sudden silence. Even the general chaotic din of an outpost the size of Victory had disappeared to be replaced by a kind of quiet stillness which made him have to clamp down on his unease and a strong urge to fidget.

"Fine, fine, stay clamped," Durmat continued, raising his voice in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the tension, "I don't care who it is, I ain't talking. Nobody's gonna get nothin' outta me. Nothin'…."

Outside Vette snorted quietly, she wouldn't put a credit on the brat not lasting a single minute under her, let alone a trained investigator, especially one sent by the Jedi Council. Durmat had heard of the Jedi Mind Trick, hadn't he? The thing where a Jedi could make someone spill their secrets by just telling them to.

Aindri took a step back away from the doorframe, "Wait by the door and make sure no one sneaks up on us," She ordered Vette in a low tone, the Twi'lek drawing her blasters, "But if there are too many do not engage."

"All right, all right, I ain't proud, I give!" Durmat shouted, "My dad's an imperial agent!"

"What did you say?" Zixx said in disbelief, finally whirling round on Durmat, "Your dad is a what?"

"Yes," A soft voice declared, and he turned to the doorway in time to see a figure clad in black and red armour under a charcoal black robe sweep near silently into the room, "Please repeat that, junior."

The delicate sneer in Aindri's voice did little to show just how unimpressed the Sith was, but Vette knew her well enough to wince at the tone. Her boss preferred people face fate with dignity, not to say she wouldn't encourage them to fight against it, not beg or whine for their life once death caught up with them. The Twi'lek wouldn't be ashamed to admit she had sent up a prayer she'd never disappointed Aindri so much it'd ever be directed at her.

In a way, it was almost worse than her being pissed off and Vette didn't think she'd seen the Sith truly angry yet.

Durmat's eyes widened in fear at the sight of the robed figure, his mind flitting back to his father and what he told him of the rulers of the Empire during his child in that of warning and subdued awe. At the moment, the Sith looked every inch the intimidating warrior his dad described them as.

"Oh… oh… oh… no."

"This is a restricted area," Zixx growled, his hand gradually inching increment by increment across his command console to call for reinforcements, "What are you doing here? Who are you?"

"It's – it's not a who," Durmat stammered, collapsing and scuttling backwards to place as much distance between him and the newcomer as he could have given he was locked in a cell, "it's a what… S… Si…"

"I am Sith." Aindri declared clearly, drawing her saber lightly across Zixx's neck, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air.

"Zixx…" Durmat squeaked hesitantly, the resistance fighter slumping against the console, his fingers only an inch from the emergency switch, "Zixx! Come on, talk to me! Zixx get up, man…"

Aindri approached the scrawny speck of a young man who scrambled backwards, wide terrified eyes barely visible under a mop of unkempt hair. Brushing her hand against the console, she disabled the energy field blocking him from the rest of the room and entered the cell.

"Look at me," She commanded, "Do you know why I am here Durmat?"

Durmat's head jerked up at the command, he could feel her eyes on him, examining him, even though he couldn't see them. It terrified him further, he couldn't read her face, couldn't know what she was thinking. You would have thought her body-language would give it away, but the cloak blurred her form.

"The – the Republic… the Republic's investigating my dad…" He stammered out, "And an agent's comin' to put the screws to me… but… I won't break, I promise!" He yelled, so scared he was not past begging, "Let me live, my dad's secret is safe with me. I-I'm a rock."

She laughed coldly, "Do not insult me. You would crack the moment someone looked your way."

"Please! Please my father's done so much for the Empire," He whimpered, "Maybe-maybe the apple fell off the tree, kinda far from the tree, but – it's still… the apples still…. Please don't kill me!"

Aindri's lips curled in disgust at the creature before her, such a pathetic, snivelling coward. She may have given him a chance, but now she couldn't risk it. The Jedi would no doubt be able to get what they could from him. Even with the protection of the Force, of which Rylon's get did not, one could still buckle to the technique's a Jedi used.

"I have my orders."

"That…" Durmat sighed shakily, "Doesn't make me feel any better."

Bringing her saber down, Aindri killed the ensign in one swift strike. Other Sith may draw it out, dismembering him and watch as he died in agony, cooked him inside out with lightning, take joy in his pain, but she did not. There was no satisfaction to be had in the ensign's death. He was not a combatant, he was unarmed, and Durmat had committed no wrongs against her. Only the threat he posed stopped his death from being a pointless one.

She sheathed her blade as Vette came to stand beside her, "Vette, slice the terminals and remove any records of Durmat from the system."

There was every chance the rebels had interrogated him as they waited for the investigator to arrive.

"Sure," Vette moved to the terminal, shaking her head at the dead ensign pityingly, "Poor fool. Not sure we've ever come across anyone so useless."

Aindri could think of one or two from her past, "There's still much left of the galaxy to explore."

"You're right," Vette nodded, "But now the bar's been set pretty high." Her fingers paused on the keyboard and she cocked her head, no that didn't sound right, "I mean low." She corrected herself.

"Showing nepotism can cripple a military. It is the worst thing an officer can do." And of course, Rylon did so in a moment of weakness, doing neither him nor his son any favours. Pushing away the thought, her lips quirked upwards behind here mask, "And not everyone can be as talented as you Vette."

"A compliment?" She grinned at the Sith, "I'll take it. By the way good news, bad news. Good news records have been wiped. Bad news, we got a bunch of boogies heading our way."

Heavy thuds echoed down the corridor, the distinct sound of heavy armour and blaster rifles banging bumping against a soldiers frame coming towards the cell block. These rebels certainly didn't waste time, Aindri ruminated, igniting her lightsaber.

A full squad of resistance fighters stormed into the cell block, Vette cursing up a storm as she moved to cover Aindri's back. All twelve soldiers raised their rifles and fired, five missed, their shots flying wide when Vette dropped two, forcing the rest to duck.

Aindri blocked the remaining seven, another three dropped by their own fire.

She narrowed her eyes, if she was fast, she could take all four out in one swoop. Her gaze alighted on a large table tucked into the right corner. All the remaining soldiers were on her left flank, pinned down by Vette's own blaster fire. Throwing out her free arm, she reached out with the Force and pulled.

"Down!"

Vette flattened herself to the ground as the heavy table careened over their heads, smashing full force into the four soldiers sending them and desk slamming into the durasteel wall. Dust settling, the desk was a destroyed hunk of pieces, large splinters imbedded in the soldiers, red seeping into their uniform.

The still conscious fighter, leaning heavily against the wall, shot down by Vette before she even fully raised her rifle.

"Let's move," Said Aindri, striding for the door, "I want to make it back to Sobrik by nightfall."

"Yeah." Vette wrinkled her nose, "Plus it smells awful in here."

The two moved swiftly back through the detention centre and the base, leaving a smouldering ruin behind them, smoke curling up to darken an already forebodingly overcast sky, atmosphere growing denser by the minute.

Like Aindri had told Vette, she had ultimately decided to push their return to Sobrik rather than spend the night at the nearest Imperial Outpost like they had planned.

After dealing with the militaries idiocy for an entire day, her patience was running thin and she wanted nothing more than a hot shower, comfortable bed and a proper meal.

That a day on Balmorra was roughly twenty-three hours because of the planets forty-seven hour rotation period, thereby messing up her sleep schedule, decidedly did not help alleviate her mood.

She had done a whole weeks work in the span of two days where the Imperial Military failed for months, she was not happy. If it wasn't for her early education at the military academy on New Adasta before her Force-sensitivity came through, Aindri was sure she would have collapsed by then.

By the time they reached the city, everyone was rushing to-and-fro in desperate attempts to escape the pitter patter of fat rain-drops. It was only early evening and yet the bleeding sky was dark, illuminated every now and then with flashes of harsh lightning counterpointed by the ominous echo of rumbling thunder.

Sobrik Headquarters was, if possible, even more frantic. Officers rushed around with harried looks on their faces, barking orders at junior NCOs who hastened to fulfil them. For perhaps the first time since they landed, no one paid attention to the odd pair of Sith and Twi'lek entering through the doors, puddles forming at their feet.

"Where's the fire?" Vette asked, she was pretty sure it hadn't been this hectic when they left that morning.

A nervous looking corporal almost ran over them, Aindri sidestepping out of the way as she moved further into the building. The fact he didn't even stop to grovel suggesting he had really urgent business which he needed to complete or he'd lose his head.

Something had happened while they were in the field and to find out what, she needed to get to Quinn.

The lieutenants' offices were a hive of activity much like the rest of the building. Aindri stepped into the room, her eyes quickly adjusting to the low light, punctuated by flashes of bright red and yellow lighted buttons from various terminals, all of which were manned, a stark contrast to when they first arrived.

Quinn himself looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and a strong five o'clock shadow. What ever happened, it had robbed him of much needed sleep.

"My Lord," Quinn greets, standing and saluting at her entrance, "Welcome back."

Aindri inclined her head in acknowledgement, "With my recent mission successful, we may focus our attention on the Arms Factory," Her gaze sharpened, and even though Quinn could not see it, he certainly felt it, "Unless, there have been further complications?"

"None, my Lord," Quinn replied hurriedly, thanking the Emperor the single bead of sweat on his temple remained there than rolling down his face, "Not which would affect your goals, we have simply had a… change in governance."

Vette leaned against a console, ignoring the disgust look sent her away by the stiff manning it, "Huh. So that's what all the hubbub baloo was about downstairs."

So, Lachris has finally made her move, Aindri mused. Governor Lysennius Melchiro's inept leadership was what allowed the Balmorran resistance to gain too much of a foothold, starting as a simple annoyance to become a thorn in the Empire's side it could no longer ignore. Truly, she had been aware of the situation on Balmorra long before Baras had sent her there, where the planet should have been easy to pacify it became a drain on time and resources.

Like her master, like Aindri herself, Lachris hated weakness with a passion and was disgusted by ineptitude.

Melchiro had plenty of both.

"My Lord, I feel I must be honest," Quinn continued, in the ensuing silence, "Your success at the satellite control facility and the Republic outpost has surprised me. I computed the likelihood of success as nearly negligible. In my assessment, however, I only considered the capabilities of a typical Sith." He inwardly cringed, wishing he could retract his words. Intended as a compliment, they came out backhanded and he was afraid she'd take them as an insult, "Clearly you are not a typical Sith. I will adjust future calibrations to account for you unprecedented abilities."

Behind the mask Aindri arched a brow, it was rare for an imperial officer to admit their mistake so openly, in front of a Sith no less. More so as a lieutenant, where one had little political backing to protect against any repercussions to come their way.

"Remarkably candid of you, Lieutenant."

"I'm not too proud to acknowledge when I'm mistaken, my Lord."

She hummed, her eyes flitting to the chronometer, calculating in her head the time difference. It was late at night on Dromund Kass, Baras would currently be asleep and so she had the next few hours free. That was, if he hadn't left orders for her to contact him immediately with Quinn.

"Has my master contacted you further?"

It would best if they did so, before assaulting the factory. Aindri would hope there were no more loose ends which would prevent her from hunting down Rylon himself. She would not relish having to tie up another like Rylon's son.

"No, my Lord." He replied promptly, "And as it is currently one thirty-five in the morning in Kass City, Lord Baras, is unlikely to do so. His offices will not be open for another six hours…."

Quinn's office doors slid open, revealing a harried corporal who gulped at her presence and hurriedly executed an awkward movement. It was somewhere between a salute and a bow, as if he couldn't decide which method of address to use presenting himself in front of two individuals of differing ranks while both were his superior.

"Apologies for my intrusion, my Lord, Lieutenant. I am here to forward on a message from the new Governor of Balmorra Darth Lachris," He waited for Aindri to indicate her assent, summarily ignoring Vette who had a curious look on her face, "Darth Lachris would very much like to meet her Lordship. She would bade her company the Governor's Offices at earliest convenience."

"It would be remiss of me to not honour such a polite invitation," Aindri smiled, she did like it when everything fell neatly into place, she would now gain a reason for her presence in the Arms Factory, "Inform Darth Lachris I will be present within the hour." When the corporal bowed and started off, she turned to Quinn, "We will continue in this morning, Lieutenant. I trust you will have a brief on the Arms Factory prepared."

"Of course, my Lord," Quinn replied, inclining his head deferentially, "I hope you have a favourable meeting."

Aindri lead the way to hers and Vette's borrowed room, shucking her cloak, heavy with water, onto the chair and proceeded to remove her armour. She would go to meet Lachris armed and armoured of course, but she did not need full body armour like she did on the battlefield.

"So am I on my own again?" Vette asked as the Sith entered the refresher, getting a confirm nod, "Anything you want me to watch or listen for while you're out?"

The Sith paused in removing her shirt before shaking her head, "Be careful, Vette."

"Yeah, yeah." Vette flopped back onto her cot, "The Stuffed-Shirts are jumpy, more likely to throw me in jail which is just terrible for the state of my…." She trailed off at the Sith's arched brow, "Promise I'll be careful."

Thirty minutes later, Vette looked up from inspecting her blasters as Aindri emerged from the refresher. She looked different from usual chill out clothes, a lot more fancy in her royal purple dress like shirt over black like leggings. Her boots were still armoured but it was barely visible and fitted on her wrists were reinforced bracelet like cuffs.

"Do not wait for me." Said Aindri, drawing on a dry cloak and flipping up the hood.

Vette waved at her as she left, door sliding shut behind her. The building was still loud, soldiers and officers, senior and junior going about their business, only the barracks where quiet. Regardless, she was able to commandeer a solider and a groundcar to transport her to the government building.

It had the same lifeless dull grey façade as Sobrik's other buildings, no sense of foreboding majesty like the Imperial Citadel. The only indication it was any different from its surroundings was the military presence, troopers guarding the entrances.

She was met by an aide and led to the governors offices located deep in within the building, the bay window looking out onto the city, opulent furniture and deep red banners, the Empire's emblem embroided in black. Three people occupied the room, Captain Rigel and another she officer did not recognise.

"Ah, good evening my Lord," Rigel greeted joyfully, offering a light bow upon her entrance, door sliding shut behind her, "I must express my deepest pleasure at working with you. Operation Breaking Point has been far more successful than I ever could have imagined."

"I heard about your exploits, my Lord." The newcomer bowed, "Captain Laverse, Special Tactics Group, 32-Alpha-Ghost Striker Division, at your service. My Division, in particular have been enjoying the fruits of your labour."

Aindri inclined her head in acknowledgement, she knew of the Ghost Strikers, they had worked under Lachris during the occupation of Vaced, street-to-street fighting for the glory of the Empire. During her training, Ari' had based one such tactical exercise on the campaign to introduce her to the intricacies of urban warfare."

"The exiled government backed Resistance is taking its last pitiful grasp, largely thanks to you," Rigel agreed, "My superior, the head of the Conquest Consolidation Corps, Colonel Vrain, sends you his appreciation," He grinned in excitement, "It won't be long before the corpse of former Defence Minister Vol Argen is cold in the ground."

"Has he come planetside?"

"That is the rumour, my Lord. Either way, if Operation Breaking Point succeeds, his death is only a matter of time."

"The Resistance has made its headquarters in the Balmorran Arms Factory," Picked up Laverse with a grimace, "The facility is heavily fortified, and the environment makes a direct assault difficult."

"But it's not invulnerable," Rigel interjected, fixing his fellow captain with a look which dared him to interrupt, "Not with a powerful patriot such as yourself at our side."

"Her involvement in Breaking Point is no longer necessary Captain," The woman cut in, breaking her silence.

Rigel stiffened, the Force displaced around him, betraying his unease and quickly covered indignation. But it rankled, Aindri could see he resented something he worked hard for being shunted aside. It was plain the woman knew it too for her next words were coloured with almost indulgent amusement.

"It is beneath her and will be handled by an individual of a more fitting station." She didn't turn from the window, but Laverse still straightened as the womans focus shifted to him, "Update the Captain and Colonel on the changes."

It was a clear dismissal and the two officers bowed in deference, leaving the two Sith alone in the room. A second ticked by in silence, fat drops thumping in a soothing rhythm against the glass.

Turning away from the windows shadow and into the light of the room, the woman smiled. Unsually for a Sith, it reached her eyes, a radiant pair of unnatural orange orbs, scrunching the network of fine spidery black veins visible at her temple and the curled corners of her lips.

"Aindri Hallow," Said the woman smiled, rolling the words around her tongue, "A true Sith at last I see."

"Darth Lachris," Aindri greeted with a courteous nod.

Their familiarity afforded her an escape from a full bow, but she did hold a measure of respect for the woman.

Like always Lachris appeared as if she had walked right out of a soirée, her onyx hair tied back in an elegant chignon and painted matching upper lip contrasting with her ivory skin. Yet, fraying robes in crimson, shades of ash, and teal accents were a strong counterpart to the Darths elegant countenance.

She could be nothing else but a Lord of the Sith.

Lachris's smiled grew predatory, "A shame Darth Baras has sunk his claws into you. I myself had my own plans to snatch you up as did others," She gave an exaggerated sigh, "And you held such promise."

Aindri approached the couch, "There is an advantage to be had in an apprenticeship to an Uncrowned."

The Uncrowned or the Seatless Generals, an open secret amongst the upper echelons of the Sith Order. Lords of the Sith as powerful and influential as those sitting on the Dark Council. In another time they would have held the title of Councillor but whether overshadowed by those who sat on the Council or refused a seat themselves, they did not.

It was a small group but their presence and influence was still felt throughout the Empire if one knew where to look.

"Ah yes, the Seatless Lords," Said Lachris, a delicate sneer in her voice, "Your master is the puppeteer is he not?"

"Darth Baras is reputed as one," She responded evasively, "But we are not here to discuss my master or his secrets."

"His secrets are his own of course," Lachris returned with a dismissive wave, "As are yours. Nonetheless, your master wastes your talents."

She arched her brow, "You think highly of me. Yet I am still an apprentice. I have much to learn."

"And he will truly teach you?" The Darth questioned, "Baras is a user young one, and when you are no longer of use, he will discard you."

Many are users, thought Aindri, "When such a time comes, I will long have been able to stand on my own."

The other broke into laughter, "You are a delight, Aindri Hallow. Your master is indeed losing his touch, not recognising the Ranor for the Terentatek you are." She indicated for her to take a seat on one of the seattes around a low table, "But enough. To business, shall we?"

"The Arms Factory," Said Aindri, leaning back as Lachris took the other opposite her, "There's been a complication."

"Not in so much a complication as confirmation," Lachris replied, idle fingers tapping the armrest, "I have been tasked with cleansing Balmorra." She scowled heavily, "But the Resistance has proven, resilient."

"It is an open secret, they are being aided by the Republic. Even if they deny involvement."

"As I said, confirmation not complication." Lachris pulled out a holo, activating it, "Our problem is him."

What appeared was the image of largely build man, head shaved except for a thick strip in the middle. He had an odd kind of swagger, even when standing, his shoulder tilted like he was posing for photos and making sure they got his good side.

"My friends in the Resistance. I won't take much time. The Empire says it owns Balmorra. The Republic says, 'it's yours, we're gone'." Aindri arched a brow at what sounded like an actor in a bad recruitment campaign, lip curling in distaste as he continued his diatribe, "But you and I know Balmorra's won by sweat and tears. And my boys will stand by your side until everyone knows it."

"Grand Marshal Cheketta, formerly of the Republic Army," Lachris announced a delicate sneer sneer in her voic at his title, "Officially, he and his troops went rogue after the Republic formerly withdrew from this sector." She gave the figure a contemptuous gaze before switching off the holo, "Ever since they've been holed up under siege, aiding the Resistance and fortifying their position. You may have meet their scouting parties when taking Outpost Victory."

"They seemed too well trained for civilians turned fighters," Aindri mused, recalling the rebels who'd stood against her after killing Durmat, it was their body language which was the give away, "Cheketta. I have heard of the name."

"He is a brute, barely seems literate. But he took three sectors from us during the war," Lachris glared daggers at the dormant holo, "The Arms Factory is the centre of the war on Balmorra. Cheketta is taking advantage of the need to keep the planets military manufacturing plants intact to limit our movements."

She hummed in thought, "Any luck on getting inside the factory?"

"I am told the factories generators are inexhaustible, its defences cutting-edge. Its barricades block our scans, giving the Resistance peace and privacy," Said Lachris, growling at the lack of concrete information, regarding the factories defences, not even a statistic on estimated troop numbers. The old governor had been useless, "As a home to some of the brightest engineers in the galaxy, it is sure to be well defended."

"No fortress is invincible. A structural vulnerability, potential traitors in the ranks…." Aindri trailed off, recalling something Vette had overheard, "Intelligence, recently posted an operative here correct?"

The Darth's lips curled in predatory anticipation, "Imbedded a Cipher Agent within the Resistant Camp little more than a month ago. They've only recently had access to the factory, which is why the assault has been delayed." She leaned forward, regarding her over interlaced fingers, "On the day, they will cut off the power and use the period of panic to shut down security. Once this is done, the main attack force will sweep in and wipe out the resistance."

A sound plan, Aindri agreed, but with one flaw, "Assuming the whole factories defences are run on a single system."

"Indeed," Lachris purred, "The agent will likely only be able to disengage the outer protections, but it will be enough for a small group to slip inside and lower the barricades, which block out scans," She smirked, "Do this and I will have an army at your back."

"And the Republic?" Aindri asked, "Shall we expose their lies on a galatic stage?"

"I do love our minds are on the same page," Lachris smiled in delight, "Cheketta may have officially gone rogue, but the Republic still supports him. Funding his revolution from the shadows, making supply drops in secret." Her eyes alighted with excitement, "Those Republic hypocrites want the Arms Factory as a beachhead, but we shall take it before they can mount their invasion." Her smile grew menacing, "Then, we expose their hiprocrasy to the Galaxy."

Aindri's own lips curled into an anticipatory smirk, the Force coiling around her and blood pumping hot through her veins at the prospect of the challenge lying before her. She really did love when everything fell into place, in the chaos of the assault, Commander Rylon would be slain with none the wiser as to her true purpose.

The Balmorran Arms Factory would be in imperial hands by tomorrows nightfall.