The jump from hyperspace was smooth as always. Threading the needle, Scourge's mind was already calculating the time it would take him to get from the exit from hyperspace to orbit and then ground. Ahead, he witnessed the noxious pollution of Quesh's atmosphere through the transparisteel viewport of his fury-class interceptor. While this was no longer the barren hellhole it had been before the planet's Hutt and Republic owners ravaged its resources, Quesh was far from pristine or pleasant. In a different world, he would never even consider spending any of his free time on the blighted planet. However, his current path was dictated by a former Darth turned traitor, one Darth Sajar – his mission target.

Passing the moon and continuing on a fast course to the surface, he thought about how he would end Sajar. According to his briefing and everything that Scourge knew about his quarry, the Darth had renounced the ways of the dark side and his seat upon the Dark Council, in favor of becoming a Padawan in the service of the Jedi Order. From that point forward he had apparently done all within his considerable power to remain hidden away from Imperial forces and the Empire as a whole. Except for one report not so long ago, which had piqued the Emperor's interest. His Lord Emperor was not one to allow traitors to make fools out of him and he was even less likely to allow someone like a Dark Council member, former or otherwise, to go against him while actively in possession of a very great deal of the Empire's secrets. It was the ultimate insult and this time Sajar would pay the price.

As the interceptor entered the corrosive atmosphere, one final step had him thinking back. On these final dives his mind would wonder at the galaxy as he had come to see it. If he allowed himself deeper reflection, he would acknowledge that such insight came as both a blessing and a curse; and one which constantly fed his despair of the Sith Order as a whole. How they did not see the flaw within their own order was beyond him. How they could not see the futility of their own struggle as they tore each other down one by one was madness. How they could remain the same as they had been when he was a child over three centuries ago. Their vision seemed limited, no – blind, despite his superior acumen being one of the very reasons for which the Emperor had declared him Wrath.

Entering the murky cloud-layered skies of the industrial world, his ominous scowl seemed more suited for someone that had a blade at their throat rather than the very opposite. Where Darths and Sith were known for their zealous expression of overconfidence, indulgence and excessive lustful tendencies, Scourge's intense and calculating temperament tended to hold them at bay, sometimes even other Sith too timid to think about opposing him. Those that had however had met a swift end at the end of his lightsaber or his fists. Nevertheless, even to the most reckless, confronting him was unwise. Lord Scourge had proven, by slaughtering Darths or Jedi, that any Sith's potential prowess mattered little when matched with his tenacity, precision and brutality.

A brilliant streak sliced its way through the lower atmosphere, with only the faintest shriek to echo its passing in the sky above. A flock of native birds, startled by the abrupt interruption, screeched in fear and scattered in all directions as the interceptor raced past, on course to its intended destination.

With the same level-headed detachment he wore like armor, his mind continued to linger over a question that haunted him so often in recent times. Even though this would turn out as it always did – with his Lord Emperor's absolute will done and him returning to his side once more like a bloodied dog of war with tail wagging, this time felt different. This assignment, in practice, was no more remarkable than any of the other assassinations he'd done in the past. Not by comparison anyway. Yet felt all the more profound as his senses buzzed with something. Could it be destiny's hand upon his shoulder, dragging him reluctantly and with the barest semblance of consent in its chosen path. Had the Force whispered his name this time?

As he had experienced so many times, there was the smallest voice in the back of his mind urging him to look harder, think deeper, press for a stronger understanding of what the Force had done for him thus far. And yet, each and every time, he could never see what would lie on the horizon until it had already arrived. He could only walk forward and do what he had to do, just as he had from the start. This is just another waypoint. He assured himself, if a bit lamely. This time however, this time he saw, or more felt.. that he was on a precipice. There was the slightest tug, and if he had known anything more he would have recognized it for what it was: the will of the Force. An acknowledgement to the very real steps of the dance he had started on that long-ago day when he had brought Revan and Meetra to the Emperor.

The interceptor banked sharply to the left and a moment later broke through the fog layer, pulling into a steep dive and heading in on its target. It could not have been more obvious that its arrival was unwanted, but given the strength of its arrival – its necessity was absolute. That same small feeling he'd felt before tried to speak up again. Still, the gravity of the mission to him drowned out such tiny murmurs of instinct. In some distant part of his psyche his mental protest felt wrong. Irrelevant to the job ahead, and therefore irrelevant in its entirety. So much so, that in his cold inner cynicism and strength he turned it away, denying the premonition before it even began.

Reinforced landing skids were deployed for a rough and hard touchdown in an area all too remote and unsettled. The dull vibrations from the impact could still be felt even after the ship touched down on its under-wing struts and landed hard on the earth below. Scourge did not delay on disembarking as the door to the starboard cockpit swung open with a faint mechanical hiss and lowered its access ramp. He was already halfway down its length and out onto the polluted soil a moment later. As he took one tentative step down, the dark armor and cloak he donned protected him from the outside elements that were hazardous, despite not wearing the standard protection found with Imperial troops. He'd already taken the precautions against this world, anything more and the Force would be enough.

Even in the early morning light, Quesh had a peculiar hazy tint, as if the cloud-layer permeated its atmosphere into a film that shaded its surroundings. Scourge closed his eyes briefly, extending his mind and brushing over the area. Searching. Probing. Just before he could fully engage however, a small convoy of armored Imperial troopers approached him, coming from around a jagged rocky outcropping in the distance.

They stopped when the distance was approximately two thirds of the way and bowed to Scourge before straightening. "Lord Scourge!" the foremost trooper proclaimed in a formal tone. "You honor us with your presence!"

Scourge glanced coolly at the unit, taking a silent census of the troopers in attendance yet committing none to his memory. He marked off their apparent fitness, battle readiness and determination. They looked like well-seasoned soldiers. His face was a stone, without a trace of expression. That said, he did not have the luxury of time. Whatever was going to happen would have to occur swiftly, otherwise the nature of the situation could change.

"Do not try to flatter me, commander," He stated sternly, not so much as glancing at the rank plaque on the man's right breast, "Take me to the target." He ordered.

"At once, Lord Scourge," The commander motioned for Scourge to follow as they changed direction and continued the way they had originally been moving.

Scourge narrowed his eyes in a severe scowl, causing the troopers to pick up their pace. After following the narrow and circuitous road leading further into the region, they arrived at a wide ridge, at the edge of the last piece of grass covered ground, overlooking the remnants of an old facility of sorts. Rusted metal frameworks that stood erect, while a variety of rotted containers and rickety structures lay sprawling in the midst of it. At the heart of the complex, was an entrance tucked away into the wall. Imperial troops stood guard along its approach.

He stepped down and with his destination now in view, reached out with the Force again. That tiny tug now turning into something much more substantial and unmistakable. Something was coming; he could feel it approaching. That was undeniable. Yet his Lord's orders were his priority, and it had taken priority long ago. That inescapable fact would not have been readily forgotten. So, while he could not escape his feeling – the mission must come first. Pushing past the incessent tug was the draw of Sajar. There was no mistaking the weakness in which he sensed, hidden inside that base below him. And that was all that he needed.

"Here we are Lord Scourge," The commander grunted.

"Proceed." He stated with an underlying tone of disdain. The commander paused for a moment, a bit startled at his abrupt command.

"Well?" Scourge scowled.

The officer spurred to life with a motion towards his men. "Move! Remember your orders." He barked at his men. Scourge watched the exchange for a second as the unit marched off, each man coming to attention as their numbers surged into the base. When the troopers were well away, the Wrath turned back to the scene. For several moments he observed the field of action, feeling the familiarity of death and chaos sowed within the bowels of the base. Eventually his attention drifted toward the entrance, following a flicker of fear emanating from within. He narrowed his eyes, that damned tugging intensifying, making his jaw clench. Ignoring the sensations, the Sith advanced down the rocky incline and at the base, headed directly for the base's maw.

Without warning, Scourge noticed a ray shield snapped on, effectively sealing him out. Instinctually, he reached for his lightsaber, but his hand faltered midway. Time feeling as if it slowed to a crawl.

He recalled his vision of the unknown Jedi that would strike down the Emperor. Their silhouette cutting through the haze of obscurity within his mind's eye, the deep shades of purple and amber all too familiar. Instantly the Force resonated, setting a flare within the depths of his consciousness, pulling insistently upon him. Flashes and images bombarded his brain all at once, jumbled pieces of a larger whole: ancient temples, thunderous rains and lightning, blaster fire, a fleet of warships exploding, and an empty chamber he knew all too well. Then in the next heartbeat, it was gone.

The Sith blinked twice in quick succession. A burning chill like ice crawling up his spine. Conjuring strength he knew was necessary, the moment dissipated and he resumed his pace, yet without brandishing his saber. The image within his mind's eye... his vision was becoming quite real with every footstep made in the direction of the base. Any doubts he'd had dissipated just like the scene had, leaving him with one solid conclusion: this unknown was why he was here. Not Sajar. It had to be.

Beyond the crackling ray shield, he could make out three faces staring back at him. One heavily armored mirialan, a human in weathered field clothes, and a Jedi that shared the silhouette and face of the one in his vision. Her face was stony, determined and focused, watching him with cautious and judging eyes. He saw coldness and distrust emanating from her depths and in her form he could feel a tension coupled with strength and agility. She crossed her arms, defiant in her posture and defensive in her bearing.

Scourge stepped up to the crackling energy barrier and beyond that, the Jedi. He locked eyes with her, wondering if for just a moment if perhaps her eyes really were as orange as they appeared in his vision as he placed his hands behind his back and assumed his typical, looming posture.

"What a mystery the Force can be. I came seeking a traitor, but instead found you. The time draws near." He noted solemnly as her frown only grew more severe.

She paused for a brief instant, staring at him intently before questioning. "You're not making any sense. Do you know me, Sith?"

Of course, he'd had intel. Her profile had been of significance to the Emperor ever since the ripples her movements had been making reached his attention. And while to some extent he knew her quite well by reputation alone as the Hero of Tython, he'd never once laid eyes on her, closely anyways. But now that everything seemed to align, he did feel he knew her well. After all, she had been the subject of many of his fixations over the last three centuries. It was not coincidence, of that much he was certain. Yet it still had been three centuries, something akin to doubt worked its way in. Seeing her, this close, a Jedi, the power she had, she was well suited. Was this all truly happening? It cannot be.

"Many know your name. Some whisper it, others shout it. I alone recognize what it means." He could easily sense her prowess in the Force, felt the strength in her and she had talent. Undeniably; raw, explosive, powerful but leashed. And a pureblood too. Of all things. An omen if there ever were one. The strength of the storm raging within her, still so young, nursing a darkness tainted by the light. Almost untainted, but it was still there, within her, lingering. Resonating with her gift with the Dark Side.

"You're strong and touched by darkness. I can sense it. An advantage? Possibly.." his mind mulled the options over carefully as she remained tense, yet listened. Good. He went on, "You may keep the Dark Council traitor. I smell his weakness. He'll die by his own hand, given the chance."

Then her face flickered, her eyes hardening into a fine point as she took his measure, seeming to evaluate him much like he her. After several drawn out moments she questioned him softly, "Why don't you see for yourself who you're up against? The rest will tell itself."

It was the subtle change in tone that tipped him off.

"Arrogant and prideful, like all Sith." Scourge replied in a way that almost sounded... wistful. "Surprising and yet not in so many ways."

Catching the look of befuddlement that overtook her features, he went on. "The Emperor must hear of our meeting. I won't disappoint him with delays. Farewell for now..." And with that he turned, leaving her and her company standing at the ray shield behind.

Scourge could feel their incredulous and dumbfounded stares at his retreating form. He expected nothing less. They did not understand, had not seen what he'd seen, knew not the path laid before him and the Jedi. And after three hundred years of waiting, even he himself had his own share of apprehensions.

Despite that, all felt right. In a way. And so once more in the confines of his interceptor, he set off to report to the Emperor. Ready for whatever would come next.