Private The Nature of Monsters

[Shade]

The tomb was older than the Republic, older than most of the governments currently drawing borders across the galaxy, perhaps even older than some of the stars that illuminated the barren valley surrounding it.

Shade stood alone upon a weathered ridgeline overlooking the ancient structure, her dark cloak shifting gently in the dry wind that swept across the forgotten corner of Sith space. The journey to reach it had taken weeks. Not because the tomb was difficult to locate. Eventually, every secret left footprints. Rather, because every trail connected to Darth Engel seemed to lead here before disappearing entirely.

The merchant remembered the supplies, the broker remembered the agreements, and the witnesses remembered the warnings she had offered before bloodshed; no matter where Shade followed the trail, every record she uncovered eventually circled back to the same destination: this place.

Her crimson eyes moved slowly across the valley below. The tomb itself protruded from the stone like the exposed spine of some long-dead beast, partially buried beneath centuries of dust and neglect. Archaeological permits had been filed here. Excavation equipment had been delivered here. Medical shipments had arrived here. Not once or twice, but repeatedly over the years. Whatever Engel sought, it was not a passing interest. It was an obsession.

Shade crouched near the edge of the ridge and withdrew her datapad. The report remained open before her, its conclusions as clinical as they were unsatisfying. The subject is unquestionably Sith. The subject is dangerous. The subject is manipulative. The subject does not exhibit the expected Sith behavioral patterns. Further investigation required.

She stared at the final line for several moments before deactivating the display. The statement bothered her—not because it was inaccurate, but because it explained nothing. Every witness described contradictions, every lead raised more questions than answers, and the deeper she dug, the less Darth Engel resembled the monster her employers seemed determined to prove she was.

Everything she had uncovered described contradictions. A Sith who honored agreements. A Sith who negotiated. A Sith who repeatedly offered alternatives to violence before embracing it. None of those things made her less dangerous. If anything, they made her more so. Predictable enemies could be planned for. Contradictions required understanding.

A soft breath escaped her. Someone had hired her to investigate Darth Engel, yet they had never explained why. At first, Shade had assumed it was a matter of rivalry, politics, or fear. Now she was no longer certain. The deeper she dug into Engel's history, the more questions emerged—not only about the Sith she was tracking, but about the person who had paid to have her tracked in the first place. Every answer seemed to reveal another contradiction, and Shade had begun to suspect there was far more at stake than a simple investigation.

Her thoughts were interrupted by movement. Not dramatic or sudden, but unmistakably present. A set of footprints disturbed dust that should have remained untouched, cutting a clear path across the valley floor. Fresh. Recent. Deliberate. Shade studied them for a moment before rising smoothly to her feet, her attention narrowing entirely upon the trail leading toward the tomb.

For several seconds, she studied the trail without moving. The impressions were too deliberate to belong to wandering scavengers and too isolated to belong to a larger expedition. One individual. Heavy. Consistent stride. Familiar with the terrain.

The trail led directly toward the tomb. Shade lowered herself into a crouch beside the nearest impression, studying the disturbed dust with practiced patience. The prints were fresh enough that the wind had not yet softened their edges, and deep enough to suggest someone carrying considerable weight. Armor, perhaps. Equipment. She traced the path with her eyes as it wound between scattered stones and descended toward the ancient structure below. Whoever had passed through here had done so confidently, without hesitation or any attempt to conceal their movements. That alone was unusual. Most beings who ventured into forgotten Sith ruins either feared what they might find or feared being followed. This individual appeared concerned with neither.

At last, a faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. Not satisfaction. Interest. The investigation had finally stopped chasing records and begun following a person. Rising smoothly to her feet, Shade secured her datapad and adjusted her cloak against the dry wind. Without another word, she started down the slope toward the ancient structure, each step carrying her closer to the center of a mystery that had consumed weeks of careful work. Whether she was approaching answers, a trap, or the most dangerous conversation of her life remained impossible to know. For the first time since accepting the contract, however, she suspected those three possibilities might be the same thing.

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Shade would approach the old tomb to find that it was as ancient as reported, but it had also been cleaned. It was not in the state of disrepair that it would have otherwise been in if it were simply being excavated. There was no layer of dust or grime on any surface, and in some critical parts of the first few areas it even seemed to have been reconstructed with new materials. But perhaps most interesting of all, Shade would find that it was occupied.

One set of footprints had led into the structure itself. But there was more than one voice inside. A conversation between three, maybe four people was being had. The subject of their conversation would not be easy to make out from a distance however.

The old tomb's vestibule was as large and grand as one would expect a Sith's tomb to be, the narcissistic sith liked to have their bodies rot amongst luxury. As if they could enjoy the high life even when dead. And oftentimes they had some form of security too, depending on how old the structure was. In this case there was no sign of any sort of electronic security systems built into the tomb itself, lending credence to its incredible age. Rather there were several alcoves on either side of each door leading into the space that presumably could host armed guards. The room was some forty meters long, and fifteen wide, and had three doors on the other end from the entrance, one on the opposite wall, and one to the other cardinal directions that opened up a ways deeper into the hall.

The sounds of conversation could be heard from the door to the left side of the entrance. And if approached Shade would be able to hear through the closed door four voices. Three masculine, one feminine. There was nothing of note when it came to these voices, most seemed to be simply normal people, though through the conversation it would become abundantly clear that the three masculine spoke with deference toward the female they were speaking to.

The first spoke. "The dig is proceeding well. We've uncovered another wing in the deeper reaches, partially collapsed. We are in the process of extracting whatever is salvageable. No artifacts have been found as of yet, but tablets, epitaphs, heiroglyphs and other writings have been found."

A second man would then affirm, "Yes, and my team and I are currently in the process of translating what we've found. We've hit a snag however, we don't have any frame of reference for the language being used. None like it have been archived anywhere that we've found so far, and the locals cannot identify it either. I've sent an associate to Kressi so he might get in touch with some of his university colleagues and look for sources, but I'm afraid we won't be able to do much until he's come back with news."

"That is acceptable," The female would tell the two. "Keep up the good work. Any issues with supply?"

"None that are critical my lady," The third man would say, giving his own status report to the female. "We've had to tap into the buffer stores for food and fuel, but the delays in shipping are being addressed as we speak. I don't anticipate any problems."

"Keep me updated. I'll go take a look at these texts you're having trouble with."

"Of course my lady." came the second man. "We've found one that might actually be of interest to you, as it includes what appears to be a fragment of a star chart."

"Lead the way."

The sound of approaching footsteps, one set of the two notably louder than the other. Where the first was the typical sound of a shoed footfall, the other was decidedly less subtle. The thudding tromp of a gait weighed down in metal, it wasn't exaggerated, but it was nevertheless loud. Shade would have plenty of time to duck behind a column before the two emerged, at which point she would see exactly why the footfalls were so heavy.

Her mark was there in front of her. A tall woman clad in dull grey armor, a golden mane of hair falling around her head and face and the sickly yellow eyes of a sith that had given in fully to the dark ways. Around her shoulders fell a grey cloak that did little to hide her size, and at her hip hung a lightsaber. One that she most certainly knew how to use. There was Darth Engel, following closely behind an ordinary looking Rodian scholar. Going wherever it was they were going.

The sith hadn't seemed to sense her presence yet.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade remained motionless behind the ancient column as the conversation unfolded.

The Force folded tightly around her presence, drawn inward until it became little more than a whisper. It was a familiar discipline, one she had practiced for years. Most beings moved through the Force like ships through water, creating wakes without realizing it. Shade preferred to leave none at all. Combined with the natural cover of the tomb and the deep shadows cast by its aging architecture, she became little more than another forgotten shape among forgotten stone.

What she heard did not match her expectations.

Nor did it match the expectations of the person who had hired her.

The reports she had gathered described a Sith Lord. Dangerous. Manipulative. Intelligent. Those conclusions had remained unchanged throughout her investigation. Yet nowhere in the conversation did she hear threats, coercion, fear, or fanatic devotion. She heard discussions of logistics. Archaeological discoveries. Translation difficulties. Shipping delays. The concerns sounded less like the operations of a Sith enclave and more like those of a university excavation struggling against an unforgiving schedule.

That alone would have been enough to hold her attention, but the deference shown toward the armored woman only deepened the contradiction. It was not fear she observed, but respect, and the distinction mattered.

Shade had spent enough of her life around organizations, intelligence services, militaries, and criminal enterprises to recognize the difference. Fear produced tension. Hesitation. The constant weighing of consequences. What she observed here lacked those indicators. The men spoke carefully, certainly, but not like subordinates terrified of failure. They sounded like professionals briefing someone they respected.

Then Engel emerged.

The woman was immediately recognizable. The armor alone would have made certain of that. Ancient records, traveler accounts, merchant descriptions, and fragmented reports all converged into the figure now crossing the vestibule before her. Grey steel. Golden hair. Yellow eyes. A lightsaber hanging at her side. The woman looked every bit the Sith Lord Shade had spent weeks investigating.

And yet she was following a scholar toward a collection of untranslated texts rather than marching toward prisoners, issuing executions, or conducting rituals. Of all the possibilities Shade had considered during her investigation, spending her time deciphering ancient records ranked near the bottom of the list. The image simply refused to align with the expectations built by weeks of reports and rumors, and she found the contradiction increasingly difficult to ignore.

Her crimson eyes tracked the pair as they moved deeper into the structure. The heavier footfalls confirmed what the tracks outside had suggested. The armor carried considerable weight. More than ceremonial plating should have. She filed the observation away alongside dozens of others. The medical purchases. The recurring expeditions. The tomb itself. None of it formed a complete picture yet, but the outline was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

For now, she remained where she was.

The investigation had finally reached its subject. That did not mean it was time to reveal herself.

Not yet.

Instead, Shade waited until Engel and the Rodian had gained sufficient distance before silently leaving her cover. Every movement was deliberate. Every step measured. She neither rushed nor hesitated as she followed their path deeper into the ancient structure, maintaining enough distance to remain unseen while drawing close enough to continue observing.

Weeks of questions had brought her here.

For the first time, she suspected the answers were finally within reach.

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

As Shade vanished into the depths of the force, leaving behind no trace, she would sense also that her mark's presence in the force was reduced. Though it was less an attempt to hide her presence, it would feel more like a bird that flew just above the water's surface. Close enough to disturb the surface, and not too subtle to any who could see. But never truly touching it either. Another note for the spy to add to her dossier.

The Sith and the Scholar would vanish through the opposite door. The other two men who had remained behind began to converse amongst themselves. Smalltalk, nothing of import. The logistics officer apparently asking for advice about how to grill some of the local fauna properly. No further intel to be gained there.

She would find it somewhat easy to follow the sith, who left a conspicuously small imprint on the force. Hard to notice, but once seen it was so out of place and unexpected it was nigh impossible to lose sight of. She would have no issue following the pair further into the tomb. They would lead her into a corridor that then split into five separate rooms. The corridor was some sixty meters long, and about five across. And each room was of a roughly uniform size, twenty five meters across and twenty meters in. Each room appeared to have no decipherable purpose, general purpose spaces that could really be used for anything, their original missions forgotten to time. And each one now was populated with a collection of tables and various scientific instruments, as well as containers for various things. Most notably a vast collection of books, records and writings to go alongside the tablets and incriptions found within the tomb.

This was also a far more populated space than the previous rooms. It looked like a team of around six scholars, not including the Rodian and the Sith, going about their work. Discussing their work, what they were actually looking for and the various challenges they were facing. Some even trying to brainstorm a way to accelerate their work. Some expressed homesickness, others were seemingly content. Though none of them seemed to really know anything beyond what they were doing here.

"Here we are. These are the fragments we've recovered so far, we are hopeful that there will be more delivered to us once the excavation continues tomorrow morning." The Rodian said aloud after entering the room at the far end of the hallway. "As I said earlier, some of the fragments appear to compose a star chart, and the one's found surrounding could potentially have been a chronicle or navigational aids. We're not sure, but we believe this to be pointing to another place of interest related to this tomb. That is my hope at least, though we don't have enough yet to be sure."

If Shade were to get a look inside, she would see that this room was largly empty save for a set of floodlamps and a tarp, upon which was laid a vast collecton of stone fragments. The size of these fragments suggested that they had come from a wall somewhere else in the tomb, though the information from earlier that it had be excavated from a collapsed section could explain why it was no longer that.

"How long do you anticipate it will take for the rest to be found?" Engel asked calmly, the serenity in her voice and expression being another contradiction that would have been mentioned to Shade during her preliminary inquiries.

"I anticipate that we will have more fragments by the end of the day tomorrow. Worst case scenario we will have to wait for the whole room to be excavated to get the rest of what remains, which should take no more than a week at most, accounting for the usual issues of stabilizing the ground above and hauling all of the excess material to the surface for disposal."

"Good. Let me know how it goes, and keep me updated on the situation with your compatriot. See if you can't get an estimate on his return date."

"Yes my lady."

"Aside from that, how are the workers faring? Any accidents?"

"Nothing major. Aside from one worker who had his ankle broken some weeks ago. He has been sent to the medical station, and another worker was brought in to take his place. We remain fully manned."

"Excellent," Engel would say before turning to leave the chamber.

"Have a good night my lady." the Rodian wished her as she left.

Engel didn't reply, but instead kept on pace for the exit. Seemingly she would be retiring for the night. As many of the others in those chambers likewise seemed to be doing, given that they were in the process of powering off their equipment. Not much more eavesdropping to be done here, though there was still plenty around to look through should Shade decide the records here were of any interest.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade did not immediately continue after Engel.

The impulse existed. The investigation had been leading toward this woman for weeks, and now the distance between question and answer was measured in a few corridors and a closing door. Yet rushing toward a conclusion had ruined more investigations than patience ever had. If the tomb had taught her anything in the short time she had been inside it, it was that the obvious trail was not necessarily the most useful one.

So she lingered.

The Force remained tightly folded around her presence, her signature reduced to almost nothing as she slipped silently between the workspaces. The scholars were occupied with shutting down equipment, securing notes, and discussing tomorrow's excavation plans. None of them appeared concerned with security. That fact alone was remarkable. Either they possessed tremendous faith in the woman overseeing the operation, or they had spent so long here without incident that vigilance had become unnecessary. Shade suspected the answer lay somewhere between the two.

Her attention settled first upon the fragments themselves.

The broken pieces of stone spread across the tarp represented years of effort and considerable expense. She crouched near the edge of the display without touching any of it, her crimson eyes moving across weathered carvings and half-preserved inscriptions. Though she could not immediately decipher the language, she understood enough about investigations to recognize patterns. The scholars were not pretending to work. The excitement she had heard from the Rodian had been genuine. Whatever they believed they had found mattered. The mention of a star chart lingered in her thoughts. Tombs rarely pointed toward other destinations without purpose, and Sith rarely devoted years of effort toward something unless they expected a worthwhile reward.

Slowly, she began to move through the remaining chambers.

Books. Notes. Translation attempts. Excavation records. Shipping manifests. Nothing she observed suggested military preparations, cult activity, or the sort of operations she would normally associate with a Sith power base. The records instead painted a picture of long-term academic work conducted with surprising professionalism. There were budgets. Supply requests. Personnel schedules. Injury reports. Entire sections were dedicated to preserving artifacts rather than exploiting them. More than once, Shade found herself stopping simply because the evidence refused to fit comfortably within the profile she had constructed.

The medical references proved particularly interesting. Not because they were hidden. Quite the opposite. They appeared throughout the operation in small, unremarkable ways. Requests for pain suppressants. Specialized treatment equipment. Deliveries of compounds she recognized from her earlier investigation. Nothing substantial enough on its own to warrant concern, yet their continued appearance created a pattern she could not ignore. A pattern that seemed to orbit Engel with the same consistency as the tomb itself. The woman was searching for something here. That much was obvious. Whether she was also attempting to solve something remained unclear.

Shade eventually came to a stop at the entrance of one of the quieter chambers and allowed herself a moment of stillness.

Behind her, the excavation was settling into evening routine. Scholars were retiring. Equipment was being powered down. Conversations were fading. Ahead, somewhere deeper within the tomb, moved the woman at the center of every contradiction Shade had uncovered. A Sith who honored agreements. A Sith who inspired respect rather than fear. A Sith who appeared more interested in ancient records than in conquest.

Most investigators would have considered the contract fulfilled already; the subject had been located, the reports verified, and the danger confirmed, yet none of those answers explained the question that now mattered most: why devote years to this place, why undertake the repeated expeditions, why pursue the medical treatments, and why the armor?

Shade's gaze drifted once more toward the darkened corridor through which Engel had disappeared. The answers were not here among the scholars and records. They never had been. They were with the woman herself.

For the first time since arriving, Shade allowed herself to consider the possibility that the next stage of the investigation would require conversation rather than observation—not tonight, and perhaps not even tomorrow, but soon, because every path within the tomb, no matter how carefully she traced it, ultimately led back to the same person.

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

True to the Rodian's description, the writings were largely untranslated. There were attempts. Speculations on what various parts of it might say. Some had been pieced together with known words from the same language, leaving a rather daunting fill-in-the-blanks puzzle where they had one or maybe two words out of any given sentence. Not enough to make any real decisions on, but also enough to know that it was talking about something. It wasn't long before the space was vacated. Leaving Shade with plenty of time to snoop around as she liked, uncovering more and more.

The Sith she was investigating behaved more like a ruthless businesswoman than a sith. She had clearly been willing to do unsavory, cruel acts to be sure. She'd committed a few massacres, reports might be exaggerated in places. Other places where there were no concrete reports might show a thorough and complete obliteration of all resistance. But she didn't behave in the same way many Sith did. One thing remained painfully consistent, one thing never changed.

Whatever her goal was, she intended to accomplish it. If it meant a massacre then so be it, if it meant torture then so be it. She kept a rather consistent pattern of escalation however, preferring the most peaceful and mutually beneficial solution available. Someone who might actually get along with the Hutt Cartels once one thought about it. She had employees that she treated well enough for them not to be terrified to death every waking moment. From the medical reports and, frankly boring, trail of paperwork, she ran an entirely legitimate business venture, excavating one site on the edge of Sith space for the past few years.

Even her income seemed to be squeaky clean. The source of her funds being an investing firm that had become a money broker for companies across this sector of space. They didn't produce anything themselves naturally, keeping them incredibly small, but allowing them to become explosively wealthy, and fund this mission of hers comfortably.

Sometime during her snooping she would hear mass movement of a large group of people through the vestibule to the outside. Conversations dinning over one another, and announcing to the Chiss that the workers were departing for the evening. Meaning the tomb would be entirely empty soon.

She could snoop around even more after they were gone, see what else there was to find in the bowels of this ancient place.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade remained where she was long after the last conversation faded into silence.

The steady flow of departing workers eventually became a trickle, then nothing at all. Footsteps echoed through the vestibule as personnel made their way to the surface, their voices growing fainter until the tomb settled into a stillness that felt natural. For the first time since her arrival, the excavation belonged to the dead once more.

Only then did she begin moving again.

The Force remained tightly wrapped around her presence as she drifted through the chambers at an unhurried pace. There was no need to rush. Whatever answers existed here had already waited centuries. They would survive another hour. Her attention moved methodically from one collection of records to the next, revisiting notes she had only briefly examined while scholars occupied the rooms. Translation attempts. Excavation logs. Supply inventories. Personnel reports. The deeper she looked, the more one fact kept asserting itself.

The operation was legitimate. Not just respectable or benevolent, but legitimate. The distinction mattered.

Money flowed through documented channels. Supplies arrived where records claimed they arrived. Workers received compensation. Injuries were treated. Equipment was maintained. The entire endeavor possessed an organization that bordered on the mundane. If not for the repeated appearance of a Sith Lord at its center, the excavation could have belonged to a university, a private research institution, or a wealthy collector funding an archaeological obsession.

That realization bothered her more than she cared to admit, not because it exonerated Engel—it did not—but because it suggested a level of deliberation and restraint that complicated the simpler explanations Shade had hoped to find.

The reports of violence remained real. The massacres had happened. The disappearances. The intimidation. The carefully applied brutality whenever someone chose to stand in the way of whatever objective she pursued. The contradiction was not that Engel was innocent.

The contradiction was that she seemed entirely capable of choosing alternatives.

Shade stopped beside one of the worktables and studied a collection of procurement records spread across its surface. Medical supplies appeared again. Pain suppressants. Specialized compounds. Repeated purchases spread across years rather than months. None of it proved anything by itself, yet together they formed a pattern she could no longer dismiss. The tomb. The armor. The treatments. The expeditions. Whatever connected them sat at the center of this investigation like a missing stone in an otherwise complete mosaic.

Her gaze drifted toward the dark corridors beyond the excavation chambers, and for the first time, she considered that she might have reached the limits of what the records could tell her. Earlier, she had believed the answers were hidden somewhere among the reports, inventories, and translations scattered throughout the site. Now she was less certain. The documents revealed actions, timelines, and patterns, but every meaningful question eventually led back to the same place: not a forgotten chamber or buried artifact, but the woman directing the excavation.

The records told her what Engel had done. They even revealed how she had done it. What they consistently failed to explain was why. Every trail eventually terminated at the same point. Not a location. Not a document. Not an artifact. A person. The woman in grey armor.

Slowly, Shade straightened and allowed her eyes to travel once more across the abandoned workspace. The scholars had spent years searching for answers buried beneath stone and dust. She suspected she was searching for something equally buried, though perhaps not within the tomb itself.

The investigation was no longer about verifying reports. It was about understanding a contradiction.

And for the first time since accepting the contract, Shade found herself wondering whether the person who had hired her actually wanted that contradiction understood at all.

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Shade would find one more report of interest among them all. Having moved from the hallway with all of the translations and scholarly work, where only necessary documents were kept on had just in case for inspections purposes, she would have had to move across the vestibule again and into the place where the original conversation she'd overheard had taken place. Inside of which was a room a little smaller than the vestibule itself, and one other room off to its right. The first being a room containing a table and chairs, presumably where meetings would be held to discuss important matters, events, emergencies or other such things. And the second would be found to be an office. About Eight meters square it contained a desk and several filing cabinets.

The seat at the desk looked decidedly uncomfortable, a perfectly flat surface with no cushioning made of grey durasteel, the back and armrests being much the same. The surface was scratched to hell and back, and the construction was remarkably stout for a simple chair, the durasteel several inches thick at the thinnest places, and set on a pivot as thick as a tree. Whoever sat in this chair clearly wanted it to be sturdy.

Inside the desk and filing cabinets she would find more medical records, these kept under lock and key however and would require some finesse to get into.

The report would be one regarding bloodwork. It would be several documents, from official printouts and readings to doctor's notes and comments regarding the abnormality of the whole situation. Apparently Engel had gotten her blood analyzed, though she'd done so in a very strange way and through more than one medical professional. The oldest one had decided to put it in writing that he thought drawing blood directly from her neck was an atrocious idea and had a very high likelihood of fatality when compared to the traditional methods. Some of the newer ones expressing a mix of fascination, concern and bewilderment at the findings. Listing that the blood was contaminated with some foreign substance that, upon analysis, was not a substance known to the wider galaxy. No records of it had appeared prior to this, and how it interacted with her biology was unclear. Though with the help of some outside professionals it had been determined that the substance reacted to the force, and the more active the force was through it the more active it in turn became, absorbing red blood cells and damaging nearby organic tissues.

This however, would be the last discovery of note Shade would find within the tomb should she choose to investigate any further. Everything else would have to be learned from the Sith herself.

Shade

 

[Shade]

The tomb surrendered one final secret only after everyone else had gone.

Shade's search eventually carried her back across the vestibule and into the administrative side of the excavation, a part of the operation largely ignored by the scholars. It lacked the excitement of newly uncovered inscriptions and ancient mysteries, containing instead the practical machinery that kept the entire venture functioning. Meeting rooms. Filing systems. Budgets. Personnel records. The sort of mundane infrastructure most investigators overlooked precisely because it was boring.

Shade had long ago learned that boring records were often where the truth lived, and this office immediately drew her attention—not because it was luxurious, but because it was not.

The desk was functional. The filing cabinets practical. Everything about the room suggested utility over comfort. Yet the chair positioned behind the desk seemed almost absurd. Constructed from thick durasteel and reinforced enough to withstand abuse that would have destroyed ordinary furniture, it looked less like something intended for sitting and more like equipment designed to withstand punishment. The surface was scarred by years of use. Deep scratches ran across the metal. Wear patterns suggested constant occupation.

Whoever spent time here did so regularly, and whoever occupied that chair apparently required something considerably sturdier than normal furniture. That observation remained in the back of her mind as she began examining the locked records.

The security proved competent but ultimately insufficient. Within minutes, the locks had ceased to be an obstacle and had become merely another note for her report. What she discovered inside proved far more interesting than anything she had found among the scholars.

Medical records—not procurement requests, not supply manifests, but actual examinations.

Shade settled into stillness as she worked through the documents one by one, her attention sharpening with each page. The oldest reports immediately stood apart from the others. More than one physician had documented their objections regarding the collection process itself. One doctor had gone so far as to formally state that obtaining blood samples from the patient's neck represented an unacceptable risk when compared to conventional methods.

That detail alone was unusual.

The findings that followed were considerably more so.

The reports spanned years. Different physicians. Different facilities. Different specialists. Yet every examination reached the same impossible conclusion. Engel's blood contained a foreign contaminant unlike anything recorded within available medical archives. The substance resisted classification. It matched no known toxin. No disease. No naturally occurring compound.

And yet it was there, present in every sample, persistent, and growing. Shade continued reading.

The later reports became increasingly concerned. Specialists had apparently determined that the contaminant responded directly to the Force itself. The stronger the activity, the more active the substance became. It consumed red blood cells. Damaged surrounding tissue. Aggravated existing injuries. Several physicians described the condition with varying levels of professional restraint, but the conclusion remained consistent.

Whatever existed within Engel's bloodstream was slowly destroying her—not quickly, not dramatically, but relentlessly. For the first time since beginning the investigation, Shade sat back from the documents and allowed herself several moments of genuine contemplation. The armor. The medical purchases. The repeated treatments. The years spent excavating this tomb. The strange restraint she had observed throughout Engel's history. Individually, they had been contradictions. Together, they were beginning to resemble a motive. Not a complete one. Not yet. But enough to change the shape of the investigation.

Slowly, she returned the files exactly as she had found them before securing the cabinet once more. The records had answered one question while creating several others. The woman she had been hired to investigate was not merely pursuing an obsession with archaeology.

She was searching for something, desperately, and unless Shade was mistaken, that search had become a matter of survival. When she finally stepped away from the office, her gaze drifted toward the deeper passages of the tomb where Engel had disappeared earlier in the evening. The records had reached their limit. The answers she still lacked would not be found in another cabinet, another report, or another shipment manifest. They would have to come from the woman herself, sooner than Shade had originally planned.

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Should Shade choose to pursue the sith woman, she would find the armored collossus deeper in the bowels of the place. In a room that was incredibly conspicuous, not only because of its location, but also because of its architecture and what it contained therin. It was a large room, and it was grandiose. An octagonal space, some fifty meters from wall to wall, there were columns about a third of the way inward, eight of them arranged in a circle and in line with the corners of the chamber. At the back of the room were the pulverized remains of what had once been a statue, and at the base of that statue was a sarcophagus, or what had once been a sarcophagus that had met the same fate as the statue. Thoroughly obliterated and its occupant desecrated, their bones were scattered in pieces around the area.

Darth Engel stood in front of it, glaring down at the rubble as if she were angry that it were already destroyed. Even for one who shied away from the force, her fury could be felt even from there. The first real hint of emotion that had been detected from the towering woman.

She was alone, seething with baleful hatred.

Still she fought to keep herself from touching the force, anger already agitated her envenomed blood enough. If she touched the force too deeply she might fall into another frenzy, and that was something she couldn't afford.

She still did not sense the spy. Her disconnection from the force did not afford her the senses that one of her caliber would normally have. Shade's efforts to mask her presence were unnecessary for this reason.

All that was left was for Shade to make her decision. Confront the woman and maybe get answers, depart with what she'd learned and get paid, kill the woman while she wasn't aware of her and eliminate the threat. Whatever Shade chose to do, Engel could do nothing to stop her as of yet.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade remained hidden for several moments after entering the chamber, her crimson eyes taking in the devastation before her. The room itself told a story. The shattered statue. The pulverized sarcophagus. The scattered remains of whatever ancient Sith had once been interred here. This had not been the work of time. Someone had come here with a purpose and left destruction in their wake. More telling still was the woman standing before it all. After weeks of investigation, reports, records, and contradictions, Shade had finally found the center of the maze.

For the first time since arriving at the tomb, she felt something genuine from Engel. Not the calm professionalism she showed her scholars. Not the measured diplomacy described by merchants and brokers. Anger. Real anger. It radiated from the armored woman in waves she was clearly struggling to contain. Yet even now, there was restraint in it. The fury remained directed at the ruined monument before her rather than the world around her. Shade found herself studying that detail as carefully as any report she had uncovered. It fit the pattern she had been assembling ever since accepting the contract.

The medical records lingered in her thoughts. The contaminant in the blood. The years of treatment. The effort spent avoiding deep contact with the Force. Earlier, she might have mistaken this distance for discipline. Now she suspected necessity. Every piece of evidence she had uncovered suggested that whatever burden Engel carried was neither metaphorical nor self-inflicted. It was real. Persistent. And slowly killing her. The realization did not make the Sith less dangerous. It simply made her more understandable.

Eventually, Shade allowed her presence to return. Not abruptly. Not as a challenge. A whisper first. Then a ripple. Enough for someone attentive to realize they were no longer alone. She stepped from the shadows at an unhurried pace and stopped well outside any distance that might be interpreted as threatening. Her posture remained relaxed, her hands resting comfortably behind her back as her gaze briefly settled upon the shattered remains surrounding the tomb before returning to Engel herself.

"You spent years looking for this," she said calmly, her voice carrying easily through the vast chamber. There was no accusation in the observation, only certainty. Her eyes moved once more across the wreckage before returning to the armored woman. "And someone reached it first." A brief silence followed as she considered the ruined sarcophagus and the lingering frustration in the room. "I suspect that was not the discovery you were hoping to make."

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Engel's head twitched to the left when Shade began speaking, and a dark chuckle escaped the woman. "No, not quite right. I did spend years looking for this place. But I was the first one here. It just didn't contain what I was after."

The armored woman turned around, her armored boot hammering against the stone floor with even the lightest steps. Not enough to shake the earth beneath her, but enough that the weight of it was unmistakeably immense. Her yellow eyes locked onto Shade with disquieting serenity, in stark contrast to her previously building ire. Shade was now face to face with her quarry. The massive woman in front of her was as imposing as the reports had suggested, standing head and shoulders above most normal people, her size comparable to a wookie's. Though how much of that was the armor was uncertain.

"Who are you?" She asked, the calm in her voice never departing. Her tone suggesting an agreeableness that didn't match her appearance.

Her posture was decidedly relaxed, though that was not to suggest a lack of readiness. Shade would get the feeling that this woman would engage her without a second thought if she gave her a reason.

"And more importantly, what is your purpose here?"

She made no move to close the distance, remaining where she was. Though this was more to give herself time to respond should Shade prove hostile, though she doubted it. Someone didn't start a conversation before they started stabbing if they were after someone's life, at least an assassin wouldn't be very intelligent to do so.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade regarded the woman in silence for a moment, her expression as unreadable as it had been throughout the investigation. The reports had spoken often of intimidation. Presence. Violence. Standing before Engel now, she understood where those descriptions came from. The Sith was imposing enough to make most beings reconsider their choices. Yet what struck Shade more was the contrast. The armor suggested a conqueror. The voice suggested a negotiator. Another contradiction added to an already lengthy list.

Her hands remained comfortably behind her back, posture relaxed, neither defensive nor aggressive. There was no attempt to hide now. No reason for it. She had already found what she came looking for, or at least as much as records and observation could provide. Everything beyond this point required conversation.

"My name is Shade," she answered simply. No titles. No affiliations. No embellishment. Just the truth. "As for my purpose, I was asked to learn about you."

Her crimson eyes briefly drifted toward the shattered sarcophagus before returning to Engel. "I accepted because the request was unusual. Most investigations become predictable once enough information is gathered. People tend to conform to patterns." A faint pause followed. "You do not."

There was no accusation in the statement. If anything, it sounded closer to professional curiosity. "Every report led me toward the same conclusions. Sith. Dangerous. Intelligent. Manipulative when necessary." Her gaze lingered on the ruined monument behind Engel. "And then every report undermined itself by refusing to behave as expected. Merchants who received exactly what they were promised. Agreements that remained honored. Opponents who were given opportunities to walk away before they chose violence."

The faintest tilt of her head followed. "So I continued looking." Her voice remained calm, steady, and matter-of-fact. "Not because of who sent me. Truthfully, I know very little about them. But the information stopped making sense. Eventually, every trail led here. To this tomb. To a woman spending years searching for something important enough to justify all of it." Her eyes moved once more to the broken remains of the ancient chamber. "And now I find that whatever you came here to uncover was already gone."

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Engel listened, and after a brief moment an amused laugh escaped her.

"Really? you say everything has been undermined, yet remains consistent?" She asked. "I really don't see what there is to be confused about. I want something, and I would rather all parties profit from my getting it. After all, killing and torturing people without need costs time, and I don't like to waste that. If I may say so, Miss Shade, it sounds like you're trying to confirm something you've already proven to be false. I'm not so complicated as the title "Sith" might make me seem."

"Though you are correct on one subject. What I came here looking for is not here. Just more hints and riddles." She mused with a hint of irritation, "But nevermind that. I suppose you came her to ask me questions then? Or are you here to get rid of the troublesome nobody that doesn't like to play by the Emperor's rules?"

The armored woman's methodology was becoming more and more apparent. She was an avid practicioner of "Big Stick Diplomacy", propose a trade, negotiate, and if negotiations break down punch the other party until they're ready to negotiate again. And part of that was using her size and her armor to its fullest effect, the angular geometry lending itself to an intimidating silhouette, and the underlying threat of violence beneath the genuinely reasonable speech meant that there was more than one reason to seriously consider whatever offers she made. And naturally, her reputation, which she had carfully cultivated as a woman who keeps her word and honors her deals, meant that they couldn't even use the track record of the Sith to say she couldn't be trusted, she'd already proven that wrong.

The way she spoke was making this more and more apparent. She liked to talk things out and reach a mutually beneficial arrangement. But she was always ready to rip and tear until her work was done if it came down to it.

"If it's the latter I must regretfully criticize your methodology." She added in jest with an oily smooth smile on her face.

Shade

 

[Shade]

A faint smile touched the corner of Shade's mouth at that.

It was not a large expression. Most people would have missed it entirely. Yet it was there all the same, carried more by her eyes than her features. Engel's assessment was difficult to argue with. Showing oneself before attempting an assassination generally defeated the purpose. The Sith's observation possessed just enough truth to make the joke effective.

"I am not here to kill you, Darth Engel."

Her voice remained calm, though the slightest trace of amusement now accompanied the statement. "And if I were, you are correct. Criticizing my methodology would be entirely justified."

To emphasize the point, Shade slowly brought her hands forward from behind her back. Empty. Open. Clearly visible. She made no move toward the weapons concealed elsewhere upon her person, nor any effort to disguise the fact that they existed. It was not a surrender. Merely transparency. Two dangerous women acknowledging that neither had come here seeking an immediate fight.

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the shattered remains of the sarcophagus before returning to Engel. "As for my confusion, perhaps that is the wrong word." She considered the thought for a moment. "Most people are easier to categorize. The reports I found described a Sith. The evidence described a businesswoman. The records described an archaeologist. The medical files described a patient. Usually one of those versions eventually proves false." Her eyes met Engel's steadily. "In your case, they all appear to be true."

The silence that followed was comfortable rather than confrontational. Shade had spent weeks gathering information, tracing financial records, interviewing witnesses, and following trails that eventually led beneath this tomb. Now that she stood before the woman herself, she found that her curiosity had become considerably more specific. "You mentioned hints and riddles. I suspect this place is not the first tomb you have searched." Her head tilted slightly. "What are you actually looking for?"

Then, before Engel could answer, Shade offered a small inclination of her head.

"And since I seem to have intruded upon your evening, you are welcome to ask your own questions as well. Fairness seems important to you. It would be rude of me to demand answers while offering none in return."

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Engel had assumed that her purpose here wasn't as an assassin, though the joke was there and those had the effect of breaking the ice when they landed well. It was a handy tool for her, who liked to talk rather than fight. It also helped to get people off balance when it came from her, which also helped with making more demanding terms sound more reasonable.

The woman asked her question, and it was simple and straightforward. Engel was offered some anwers in turn if she decided to ask a few questions of her own. It was a fair exchange to be sure. Information for information, it was a classic backroom deal. One Engel was well familiar with, and one she was quite happy to shake on again.

"In the simplest terms possible. I'm looking for a way to get this damned armor off." She said simply. "It's not much of a secret, but I suppose the information wouldn't be known far and wide either. This armor is a relic, a cursed relic from another tomb, left behind by a sith lord of old who's name has been long forgotten. And you are correct, this is the eighth. Each one belonging to the same dynasty of Sith lords who ruled a sector of space immediately after the great hyperspace war, where Naga Sadao, the fool, brought the golden age of the Sith to an end in a single day. After that the sith fractured, until eventually re-emerging on Dromund Kaas some centuries later. Other, smaller sects of sith had survived however, and this dynasty was one of them. A family of Sith Lords that dominated a portion of the galaxy, secluded from the rest of it. And as a result, most information about them and what they did is lost. Which is the source of many headaches."

She turned to face the obliterated statue. "Now, a question of mine. Who sent you to find me? And what were they hoping to learn?"

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade listened without interruption. The explanation commanded her full attention, not because it confirmed anything she already suspected, but because it reframed nearly every conclusion she had reached during the investigation. The armor. The medical records. The repeated expeditions. The years spent excavating forgotten tombs on the edge of known space. Individually, they had suggested obsession. Together, they now resembled a trail stretching backward through centuries of forgotten Sith history. Her gaze briefly settled upon the grey armor itself, not with fear, but with consideration. The records had described a contaminant. The doctors had documented a condition. Engel had just supplied the missing connection. Shade found herself wondering how many people would have simply accepted such a fate. Nothing she had learned about Engel suggested she was one of them.

When the Sith's question came, Shade allowed a small silence to settle between them before answering. Not because she was reluctant, but because honesty required precision. "The second question is easier than the first." A faint trace of amusement touched her expression. "They wanted information. More specifically, they wanted to know if the reports were true. Whether you were dangerous. Whether you were trustworthy. Whether the stories about your negotiations and agreements were genuine or simply a more sophisticated form of manipulation." Her eyes shifted briefly toward the shattered remains of the sarcophagus before returning to Engel.

"I suspect they expected something simpler. Most people do. A monster. A tyrant. A fanatic. Something that fits neatly into a category they already understand." The answer was delivered matter-of-factly, neither defending nor accusing. "Instead, I found contradictions." There was no judgment in the statement. If anything, it sounded more like the conclusion of an investigator frustrated by a puzzle that refused to fit together correctly. Every trail she had followed had confirmed the reports while simultaneously complicating them.

Only then did she address the first question. "As for who sent me, I cannot answer that. Normally, I would not. In this case, I genuinely cannot." There was no deception in her voice. "The contract was anonymous. Payment arrived through intermediaries. Every effort was made to conceal the client's identity. If that sounds unusual, I agree. Most clients wish to hide from their target. Mine appears to have hidden from me as well." For the first time since arriving at the tomb, Shade found herself genuinely curious whether that detail surprised Engel or merely confirmed suspicions the Sith already possessed.

Her gaze drifted toward the ruined statue looming over the chamber and the shattered remains scattered around its base. "Which leaves me with a question of my own." The words came calmly as she looked back toward Engel. "If this was the eighth tomb, and none of them have given you what you seek, why are you still convinced the answer exists?" It was not skepticism. Quite the opposite. Shade had spent enough time examining the evidence to understand that Engel would not devote years of her life to a search she believed hopeless. What interested her now was not whether the woman believed the answer existed, but what had convinced her of it in the first place.

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

Engel mulled that information over for a few seconds. And she could think of two reasons why the client would hide their identity from the operative they hired. Working through proxies wasn't altogether unusual in the world of espionage. Though to go out of one's way to conceal their identity from their spies was indicative of two immediately obvious things. One, they considered Engel dangerous enough that they weren't confident in Shade's ability to do her task without getting caught. And Sith were notorious for breaking even the most strong willed people with their methods of torture and... alternative interrogations. This one was the simplest. The second possibility implied that there was something grander afoot than simply verifying information. It would be harder to be sure what exactly the client intended, but if they were going so far as to compartmentalize in such a way, and keep their distance, it meant they had more than just an assessment of a threat in mind. They intended to act on whatever information Shade brought back to them.

It was unfortunate that Shade couldn't give her more answers than that. She wasn't surprised that she was the subject of much speculation and worry. There was nothing more frightening to the ambitious than an obstacle that refused to be behave as expected. Although she made great efforts to avoid any large-scale conflicts, gang wars, actual wars and rivalries were wastes of time she didn't want to be bothered with. Nevertheless, she'd had a feeling that there would be someone, somewhere with designs on the galaxy that identified her as a potential problem.

It would seem that day had come.

"Because each of the tombs have given me more information. The armor itself is apparently rather storied." She told her with a shrug. "It was made by an ancient lord of the sith for his personal use. And what was documented in the chronicles we've managed to translate is that it was never intended to kill the wearer like blood tests you've most certainly snooped into would suggest. And there are documented events of the sith lord in question, Darth Gralge, wearing this armor, and other events that occur later where he isn't wearing it, and then again events afterwards where he is once again wearing the armor. Though it cannot be so simple as undoing a few latches, since there are none to undo. I'm convinced that the answers can most likely be found within Darth Gralge's tomb, though that one in particular continues to elude me."

"Next question. Just how loyal to your employer are you?" Engel asked, as subtle as a sledgehammer. Apparently having decided that being subtle or tiptoing around any subject would simply be a waste of time. This was a prelude to an offer, it was already plain to see.

Shade

 

[Shade]

Shade listened carefully as Engel spoke about the armor, the tombs, and the elusive Darth Gralge. The explanation fit the evidence she had uncovered far better than any theory she had developed on her own. Not perfectly, but enough to transform the investigation from a collection of contradictions into something resembling a coherent picture. Every tomb had provided another fragment. Another clue. Another piece of a puzzle stretching back centuries. Obsession had implied irrationality. Persistence implied something else entirely.

The mention of the bloodwork earned no visible reaction from her, though the faintest shift in her gaze suggested acknowledgment. There was little point in denying she had looked. If Engel had wanted those records truly hidden, they would not have been sitting in a filing cabinet secured by a lock designed to keep out scholars rather than professionals. Besides, the Sith seemed far more interested in what Shade intended to do with the information than in the fact that she possessed it.

Then came the next question.

For the first time since entering the tomb, something flickered behind her composure.

It was subtle. Gone almost as quickly as it appeared. A tightening around the eyes. A brief stillness. The sort of reaction most people would never notice. Loyalty was a dangerous subject. Once, the answer would have been simple. There had been organizations. Causes. People. Some still lived only in memory. Others occupied places she no longer did. The question brushed against old wounds she generally preferred not to examine too closely.

Just as quickly as it appeared, the reaction disappeared.

Her expression settled back into its usual calm as she regarded Engel across the ruined chamber.

"Why are you asking?"

The answer came without defensiveness, but it was not casual either. Shade had spent enough years around negotiations to recognize one when she saw it. The directness of the question, its timing, and the way Engel had gradually shifted from discussing history to discussing people. None of it felt accidental.

Her head tilted slightly.

"That sounds less like curiosity and more like the beginning of an offer."

Darth Engel

 

[Darth Engel]

"You just answered your own question." Engel said smoothly, she hadn't missed the brief and subtle reaction that Shade had to her question. And that told Engel that Shade's loyalty wasn't absolute. Engel didn't know enough, nor have enough leverage, to make Shade an offer she couldn't refuse. But she figured she had enough of a grasp to make an offer to tempt her. And if she refused, well, Engel lost nothing from it. This wasn't a deal that she couldn't afford not to get, she wouldn't need to resort to threats, simply because this was non-essential. She could hire other spies, she could find information herself, she could do a lot of things since now she knew someone was looking for her. Shade was the easiest, most direct path to finding this person and determining if they are a threat.

And of course, to deal with them accordingly.

"I'd simply like to ask you to do for me, what you did for them. I'll pay you the same that they did, and all you'll have to do is investigate and tell me what you find. You'd be playing both sides, and given what I've measured of you, you aren't liable to get caught." She said, telling Shade what she wanted from her and what she offered. "And of course, total anonymity. I'll pay you from my personal coffers, in hard credits. No traceable wire transfers, no evidence."

Engel had assumed a relaxed posture. Her feet at shoulder width, and her hands clasped together in front of her.

"And it goes without saying, that you'd get answers if you did this for me." She said, her words dripping from her lips like venom. If Engel wasn't wrong, Shade was more curious about what was really happening than she was worried about the sith that stood in front of her. Engel had established a reasonable motive for what she was doing. Everything she did was legitimate, reasonable and measured. There was certainly room for accusation and criticism, she was not innocent by any means. But she had already proven that she had no intention to be a threat to anyone who was not an obstacle to her, frankly understandable, goal. Which she pursued in as legitimate a way as possible, making deals and conducting business.

Even her acts of violence had some justification, when people refused to hear reason for the sole reason that she was called "Darth". A stance that was understandable to be sure, but in the face of the woman's history of honoring her agreements proved to be incorrect.

And now she was trying to make another deal, one that she had judged to at least be tempting for the spy that stood before her.

Shade