"Discovery" =Bertold's compund= Entering the compound was the easy part, Keylro had mapped every inch of the exterior out in his mind, preparing his decent in to the balckness of revenge. But once inside he was as lost as a mouse in a maze, having to feel his way through , his senses blinded but the anger inside of him. A maze of passages and storage rooms littered the earth beneath the compound, and they were not empty. Navigating the abyss, Keylor found many items, including contraband. Everything from romulan ales, to klingon disruptors filled the caverns in every available spot. Any thing that was blacklisted in the federation could have been found there , and several things that neither the Klingons nor the romulans would have, including metagenic weapons. This only fueled Keylor with a sense of Justification in his purpose. Any one dealing with metagenic weaponry, even the materials to create one, had to be a bad person and should not be allowed to continue. But this was nto the reson for his presence, it was simpler than that.. After some stealth, and avoiding the sparse smuggler patrol, he finally arrived at an entrance to what appeared to be the center of the underground complex. Sitting outside a door was a single smuggler. He was a raggedy person, a humanoid of unknown origin, and very lax in his duty. Sitting in a chair and dozing a bit, he was unaware that Keylor was watching from near by. Keylor waited for the man to doze off completely before making a move. Checking the passageways for any sign of a smuggler patrol, Keylor slowly stood up form his hiding spot and quietly moved closer to the sentry. The years of survival raining his father gave him, and the military training that the federation marines had provided him prepared him well for this moment. Each step was calculated and deliberate, making sure his movements drew no attention. Step by step he moved closer to the sentry. 10 meters, 7 meters, 4 meters, he walked quietly with a look of determination on his face. Within 3 meters of the century he holstered his phaser and placed his 18 inch blade in his right hand. He approached the slumbering oaf and raised the blade up. At one meter from the sentry he was now poised to attack. Glancing to the left and right, he checked for a patrol one last time. He stopped directly in front of the sentry. Covering the mouth and throat of the slumbering man, grabbed the sentry and thrust his head backwards, exposing the throat. The eyes of the sentry opened wide with surprise. He started to move for a phaser in his lap, but it was too late, Keylor thrust the blade directly in to the soft spot below the Adams apple and impaled the man through the neck. The sentry went limp as his phaser dropped to the floor. Looking around to see if any one was drawn to the brief activity, he placed a hand on the mans forehead and pulled the blade out. Quietly and methodically Keylor touched up the sceen to kee suspicion at baay for as long as possible. Keylor closed the eyes of his victim and slumped his head forward. He ppicked up the dropped weapon and placed it in the dead mans lap. Then as a final touch he posed the mans hands around the weapon , as if holding it. Once satisfied with the crude deception, Keylor turned his attention to the doors the sentry guarded. Gently he grabbed the handle of one door and slowly opened it. Keylor stepped through the opening in the door, using every sense to alert himself to every possible clue as to his environment. The door lead to a narrow passage way, apparently leading to a larger room at the end. In the distance Keylor could hear the sound of plates and glasses being jostled about. With caution he proceeded and slowly made his way to the end of the hall. About a meter from the end of the passage a body appeared. Keylor's first reaction was to take cover, but there was no where to go. This hesitation was enough for the figure to react, and with out warning, a metal platter and several dinning implements came hurling towards him. Keylor had no time to react, the platter a dish and a glass collided with him in a loud clatter. Hitting him in the chest, Keylor stepped back, confused by the surprise but before he knew it, he felt a heavy weight hit him and force him backwards to the floor. As Keylor fell back, his right hand hit the wall beside him. In pain he released his grip on the blade. Almost instantaneously Keylor was being pummeled with flesh and bone form an unknown assailant. He had no time to think, only react. Now on his back he was on the defensive and trying to un-mount the man now standing on his chest and hitting him in the face, growling in a fury. The first few punches to his jaw hurt, and Kelyor could do nothing more than take it and try to get a grip on his assailant. But by the third blow, he had secured a grip on the man. With all of his strength and what was left of his wits he pulled himself up violently hoping for a chance head but to dislodge the man. With a crack, Keylor's head smacked with the man, enough to allow keylor to roll the man off of him. Now the two men rolled on the floor, one pummeled the other dazed and seeing stars, each trying to regain some awareness of the situation. Keylor Rolled over to his belly and pushed himself on to his hands and knees. He reached back to his holster to quickly dispatch the assailant , but his phaser was gone. The man was the first to rise to their feet and he quickly took advantage of his position. With a swift and decisive blow, he kicked Keylor in the ribs. The air escaped Keylor as he huffed a painful breath out. His body went limp for a second and he fell forward to the floor planting his face on the floor, hard. Now seeing that he had the advantage the man stopped for a second and gloated. "Well I don't know who you are, but your not suppose to be here. And for that you must die." The man confidently stepped over Keylor and wrapped his arm around Keylor's throat. Still a bit dazed, Keylor desperately patted the floor around him, searching for something to help him out of this situation. As the man squeezed, Keylor felt like the blood in his head began to collect and his head would burst soon. His desperate patting now turned in to frantic patting. His eyes began to hurt and it was beginning to become hard to even think let alone see, He could feel the life start to slipp from him. As consciousness began to slip away, he mad one lost frantic feel around him. Then, as the light seemed to form in the blackness of his mind, he felt something. With little thought as to want it was he gripped it and thrust it backwards over his head, hoping for some minor miracle to help him. As air flooded his lungs, the man grip faded quickly and Keylor regained his thoughts. In the room before him, he could hear a voice calling out, the sound fuzzy in his ears and the beating of his heart drowned out any other noise. Slowly Keylor gathered himself and rose to his feet. Slowly turning around he looked down at the broken man lying on the floor. There before him was his assailant, with Keylor's Blade planted in the mans face. Some how, by the grace of the prophets, Keylor had been able to find his 18 inch blade and impale his assailant right before loosing his own life. Resisting the urge to cough as sounds still called out form the room beyond, Keylor searched for his phaser. Spotting it nearby, he stumbled over and picked it up and placed it in his holster. Keylor then returned to the corps and tugged at the blade. With some effort he dislodged it from the man. "Amir! What is it! Amir answer me!" came a single voice form the other room, Keylor ignored it as he gathered up his strength. Still looking down at the man he noticed some thing on his neck, a brand of some kind. The symbol was familiar, he had seen it once before but he could not place it. Filing the image away in his memory, he now turned back to the room and to whom he bleieved was there, Bertold. End log === BGen Bretam Keylor (On Leave)