There were ten Sith before her as she brought the speederbike up to the front, and more Sith upon and above Dxun, Satele knew as much with the same certainty as she knew of the four Mandalorians standing in front of the ten Sith wearing robes slashed and ribbed in purple before her very eyes. As many battles as Satele had thrown herself into over her life and survived she was able to scan the line of Sith behind the Mandalorians with a careful and deliberate gaze. Taking full measure with every sense available to her. What Satele saw instead was as clear and all encompassing as only the Force itself could be, not just spirit and energy and matter but the very lines of time and space.

And the shatterpoint she found herself in.

The bike immediately came to a sudden break. The jolt didn't phase the expression of surprise hiding behind quickly narrowing eyes. Her left hand removed something from a compartment just under the controls of the speederbike; her green colored single bladed lightsaber. She was prehaps five feet in front of the strange assembly when she brought one leg over the bike and slipped off it as easy as a swooper stopping at his favorite cantina, just as casually sticking the single bladed saber hilt behind her on an awaiting spot upon her belt. 

Her first hard look was the opposite direction. She could only imagine the weapons Grim had in that speeder. She knew even seated there he was dangerous. His fellow Mandalorians knew it. Grim's fate was his own, she would never insult him by attempting to save or protect him. The driver of the speeder, however, was the singular focus of her eyes in that second. "Get on the bike, Brye," her tone made clear the command. If there was one thing Satele was glad of, it was the likelihood of her Padawan doing exactly that. 

Bllindly following orders was not something Satele had ever taught her, but knowing when to follow orders and when not to was a lesson visited from time to time upon their travels. There had never been a more stark lesson: even Satele's heart beat wildly. There were Sith, at least a few of them seemed dangerous, to say nothing of the Mandalorians who were capable of nearly any thing at any moment. 

They were in a standoff, and Satele needed Brye out of there. 

"We will allow her safe passage."

The Sith in the  middle of their line spoke. A him under that all but featureless dark grey mask judging on the deep masculine voice. His words genuinely enough felt judging on his soft tone. He was one of the dangerous ones, the Force seeming to twist and contort unnaturaly about him, as if he'd beaten it into a certain level of submission. And he was verbally reaching out to her, a fact Satele ignored entirely as if it wasn't happening until Brye started moving out of the speeder and towards the bike. Only then did Satele turn on her heel and approach the line of danger standing in front of her, fingers delicately interlocked kept comfortably at her waist.

Now the real trick began.

"You're Roana?"

She spoke to the slight Mandalorian in blue and yellow armor, a jet pack with matching paint job on her back and a light repeating blaster rifle held in her hands, it's pointed but shortened barrel pointing to the dirt of the moon of Dxun. The helmet tilted up, just so. "Don't ask us to save you."

Satele smiled. It made the collective lot more anxious than any thing else she could have done, she sensed, but pressed on. "I would never. I'm just curious how a once proud Clan turns into...this. Whatever this is. What is this?"

"It's the moment of our destiny," the other dangerous Sith, the one with armored robes and a lightsaber at either hip, spoke up with puffed chest and irritation. Satele gave him a quick look, and nothing else before the full weight of her gaze returned to 'the girl' she'd heard Grim curse so much over the last few years. The Mandalorian woman's helmet turned this way and that, before the grip on her rifle was tightened.

"It's not personal, Jedi, but we can't pass up reclaiming what was lost to us so many years ago."

Satele's head snapped to the first Sith that had spoken, the tall one in robes with the tone she found surprisngly gentle. Suspiciously gentle. "...what did you find?"

"A vault that belonged to your ancestor. You should see it. He would want you to, I feel it...come with us to Manaan, Shan. I will take you there and show you the great trophies of the Dark Lord Revan."

Satele responded by showing the man her back, her eyes locking with Brye on the bike just feet from her. "Swift and safe get on that ship. If I don't return in an hour don't wait, just go, I'll have my reasons." [i]Or I'll be dead.[/i] But that Satele was certain her Padawan would feel, much as Satele felt it many years ago as a Padawan herself. "Go. Now." A second of locked eyes in silence followed, and immediately after that Satele Shan turned and brought her single-bladed lightsaber to the ready in front of her. Ignition caused a chain reaction of ignitions, as the mostly purple and odd red lightsaber of the Sith came to life.

"It doesn't have to come to this," she said sadly.

The tall Sith removed his mask, the intense emotion behind the eyes of the Sith Pure Blood fixated on her. "We won't kill you, Shan. Your blood is his blood."

[i]And you need that blood to open that vault?[/i] She was right, and in her bones Satele knew it. It was enough. "Roana I'll take you there and give you any thing we find that's Mandalorian. Any. Thing." Not that it helped much in the moment, when the large man seated in the speeder bellowed deep and loud and impatient, ruining everything and throwing it all into chaos as only the Mandalorian warrior could.  

[b]"THESE STUPID FUCKS WANT REVAN, SO STOP PISSING AROUND AND GET ON WITH IT GIRL."[/b]

The moment Grim pulled his heavy weapons hidden just out of sight on the speeder and began firing the dark night of Dxun came to life with fire and light and Force.