A Game of Shadows


Okay, this is a side section of the plot, set alongside Chapters 24 to 26.

I cut it from the main story as it's more a background piece. This is what Tera Sinube is up to following his escape from the clones. Whilst it will have rippling effects, it's not important to the main path of the plot as far as Harry is concerned, but it is important to the setting if I were to do a sequel. But the most important thing is that I wrote it and rather than dump it, I thought others may like to read what I produced.

Please note that this is unbeta'd unlike my main story.


The wind howled through the holes in the military base, long abandoned due to its damage from battling pirates decades ago. It had obviously been gutted to ensure nothing of importance was left behind; only the structure itself remained alongside those few components that could not be removed.

In a small security office, deep within the unlit corridors and far from the biting cold of the wind, a portable generator struggled to maintain power to a jury-rigged system of computer parts. The floor was covered in cables that ran from the old communications systems where another generator sat humming to itself as it supplied power to a believed long dead system.

Former Jedi Master Tera Sinube grunted as he pulled another bundle of cables across to his jury rigged system. Sighing in relief, he stretched as best he could as the system finally connected to the Republics network.

Swiftly he input a set of old codes that he doubted would be blocked and smirked in amusement as the system acknowledged his access. It was slow, the connection too thin and weak for the flow of data he required, but he was patient, he had time. He began to trawl through file after file, any clue, any edge would be useful to him. It had burned a not insignificant number of his favours amongst his contacts, but he'd gathered quite a bit of data on the Hawks Shadow and its history.

He muttered to himself as he input the details he had acquired so far, "That's the last piece of data and average things out, there. So, they arrive at Kolanda Station with freshly harvested high quality wood to sell to the Hutts, then they travel to Argovia and acquire minerals and ores there. They then go to Dennaskar and follow the lane to Molavar where they sell the minerals and ore, acquiring the wood from a trader who owns a forested moon nearby. The family has been supplying wood to select traders for nearing three hundred years, unlikely to be the source of the chips, but I can't take any chances."

He continued tracing the route the ship followed, "They move on to Lyran and then back to Kolanda Station where the cycle repeats." He tapped a small red line on the route, "There was a discrepancy between Rishi and Ukio of a day, no reason for it, but the delivery of Biochips to Kamino could easily occur during that period and the dates match up on the deliveries."

He opened a new screen and opened a program he had written, entering more data onto it, "So, estimate the route from Kolanda Station to Argovia and from Lyran to Kolanda Station using the Hawk Shadow data."

He tapped his claw on the desk as the programs predicted the routes and times. Nodding to himself, he deleted unlikely options until he was left with a few paths. "Compare times and… nothing odd for Lyran to Kolanda, but there's a blip on Kolanda to Argovia. Hmm, I think this area needs to be looked at."

He copied the data onto a data card and began shutting the systems down.

His thoughts still whirring around his skull, he nodded to himself as he moved through the facility to return to his ship to plot in the navigation data, "Molavar first. Make sure that lead is a dead end."


Within an asteroid drifting in the LaGrange point of a gas giant in an uninhabited system, a facility sat, lit only by a few screens, the power supply merrily humming along in the vacuum of the site. Small spiderlike droids scurried here and there to repair and maintain systems in the negligible gravity.

At the heart of the facility sat James, most of his body dismantled and new systems wired into him, the crystal his Father had forged and focused with the Force for his heart sat within a liquid bath of minerals to aid its growth. He could feel the changes to himself as the crystal grew, thought patterns, ideas, sensations he had been unaware of before now, all now a daily occurrence of change and growth.

It was quite enjoyable all told.

An alert popped up in the latest data update, catching his attention with the name involved.

A contact of Tera Sinube had provided him data regarding a transport vessel, the Hawks Shadow. James pondered that for a moment before cross referencing his records for the vessels name. A few seconds later, the answers appeared on the screen before him.

"Ah, Dooku. So you're hunting biochips are you Sinube? Then let us play a game."

James researched everything he could access on the ship and its routine, the crews histories and family connections. Other than they appeared to be well paid to deliver a secret cargo on every cycle of their route, they keep the profits of the route. Beyond that, none of them stand out, hired by a middleman, although the Captain was born and raised on Seranno. Likely loyal to his Lord and paid well to not ask questions. The ships route showed a few discrepancies, they refuelled too much for their predicted route. Ah, there it is. The files Set had copied from Dooku showed a facility in the region, Site Twelve, a factory ship on a dead world. There were no details on what it produced. Interesting.

He pondered how to send a clue but make it cryptic enough before remembering one of Hedwig's hobbies, scanning a few options, he found what he was looking for.

If he could smirk he would. Perhaps he should have a new head built with the capacity for facial functions. He could retain his old body for combat purposes or put a new core and have a droid pretend to be him. He began forming the message to give Sinube the nudge that if James could find him, others can too. Also perhaps a few touches of Fathers stories would help and amuse him.

'Professor to Detective. I hear the route away from the Station is nice this time of year, perhaps you should listen to the poetry of Throsk the Mighty, I look forward to hearing your views on 'The Hunger for Bouncing Flesh' I have been informed that it is most enlightening in its native tongue. M.'

Obscure, weird and slightly painful to listen to, but if Sinube couldn't work it out, then perhaps this game would end much faster than he had expected. That would be… a pity.


Tera sighed as he finally took a seat in the private booth, the velvets and silks were gaudy and eye-catching, but the customers of this enterprise would be much more focused on the young sentients dancing on the tables or their laps to pay attention to him. He chuckled to himself at the expressions that would cross his old friends faces at the sight of an old jedi master in a brothel on a backwater world. Actually, thinking about it, they probably wouldn't be surprised with him.

Opening the network connection he had paid for, he began to continue his research, but a small beep demanded his attention. One of his mail accounts had a message for him.

His curiosity clawing at him, he opened the message, taking a sip of his drink as he did so. He paused and restarted, his drink now forgotten as more interesting matters caught his attention.

Reading it for a third time, he wondered if this was a trap, but dismissed it as much too convoluted, if the sender knew his location they could have just sent bounty hunters or told the Jedi. No, this was an actual clue from someone helping him, but to what end result he was unsure of. He closed his eyes and breathed out, opening himself to the Force. Searching for links to this 'Professor M', was he a threat?

The Force hummed and churned around the name, the link was strong between them, danger hummed along the link, but no threat at this time. No imagery beyond shadows and webs came to him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, returning to the problem before him. This 'Professor M' had just caught his attention but would have to wait, there were more important individuals that needed research.

A quick search of the holonet told him that Throsk the Mighty was a renowned Gamorrean Warlord who fought against a series of alien invaders of his homeworld, had he lived but three more years, it was likely he would have gathered the entire species under his banner, he was also known for his lengthy winter poetry. He checked the total length of said poetry and held back his horror at seeing over three hundred hours of constant recordings in the native Gamorrean. Luckily the poem in question just spanned nine minutes but even worse, it was one of his more bawdy ones. Either way, he wasn't going to listen to all that to make sure and dreaded having to listen for a clue within the poetry itself. Although the total length of the poetry as a collection, was very close to matching one of the estimated routes he had predicted. So perhaps this poem was meant to be a marker?

Please let it be a marker.

He placed the poems into alphabetical order and marked the nine minute section to be searched, frowning he repeated the process with a chronological order of when the poems were written and noted that the difference was a two day drift. He would have to look at both, if nothing appeared after that, then he would be desperate enough to see what other variations came to mind, perhaps even listening to the poetry.

The things he did to protect the galaxy.

Deciding that the warning and clue had been received, he had best get going before someone else found him.


In the cold darkness of his base, James received the message that Sinube had been spotted and decided he wanted to witness the effects of his message. Checking the systems, he picked one of his spies and used the special components he'd had installed into his spies to assume direct control. He turned the protocol droid down a side corridor and opened the network panel, directly connecting to the security system.

Within moments he had hacked the brothels security network, rapidly getting through with a minimum of effort. He opened a window in the droids HUD and watched the hidden camera observing the elderly Jedi as he searched the holonet. He could tell the moment that he noticed the total hours of poetry and when he likely read the review of the poem.

Amused by the situation, he reassigned a few of his droids and returned to hiring agents to supply him with information and to leak his existence as an information broker to those of interest in the galaxy. He looked through the files and stopped, maybe, he could have a little fun and expand his playmates. This Mor Mothma appeared to have potential and this Jedi Master Tholme could also be of interest.

He would need a proxy to use in his place to interact directly, someone loyal and trustworthy would be difficult, but not impossible. Perhaps using a droid as a mask for the proxy, the proxy being his own mask. Perhaps even more than one. Layers upon layers of illusion and misdirection with his eyes seeing through it all.

That felt right, now to upgrade his comms systems with the best he could acquire so as to be able to interact at a much more accurate speed. He would also need to find a suitable proxy to begin with, perhaps steal one of Xora's for his first one. Then he would need one for the Hutts, Republic and the CIS. Yes, recruit in one section and rotate their focus clockwise, let them believe the proxies work for their rivals, it would be an added layer of protection.

The web motif seemed particularly appropriate. Maybe he could use that somehow. He laughed into the vacuum of his facility in amusement of his plans before opening up more files to revew.

Let the Games Begin!


Tera Sinube gently landed the mass of illegal and experimental junk that was his ship in a valley of the dead world with no name, the edge of the dust storm quickly moving over the landing site and smoothly hiding his presence. Flicking a switch he waited as the ship's hull was cooled slightly to match the ambient temperature of the rock around him, the dust and odd shape of his vessel would hide them from casual observation as long as he was careful.

A full sensor sweep directed at the valley would of course detect the vessel, but there was no reason for anyone to do so at this time bar extreme paranoia.

With care, he moved his aging limbs into his stealth gear, frowning at the temptation to enhance his body with the force to bring him back to the peak of physical condition from his long past youth. He tapped his aching knee as he pondered the situation and finally accepted that he would need every edge he could get in order to succeed here today.

He could not be meek and humble before the Force from now on. He needed all of its blessings, no matter how addictive some could become for someone of his age and physical ability.

Meditating, he carefully gathered the Force and guided it along his muscles and bones, allowing them to gently enhance them, strengthen them, he had no wish of causing further damage with haste.

He smoothly stood and stretched, aches and creaks gone as if they had never existed. Rather than a being in his twilight years, he now moved with the strength and agility of his prime.

Oh, how he missed this.

Gathering the pack of gear he had already prepared, a flash of old memory caught him by surprise, the Force guiding him towards his goal, so he moved over to a hidden compartment in the hold and opened it, lifting the bundle held safely within. With reverence and care, he unwrapped the package with ritualistic precision, he took a moment to simply look at what was contained within before he began to put on the ancient bracers of his master, attaching the shoto lightsaber's to the backs of them in his masters style. As a Padawan, he had been amused at his master's style until he had watched the artistry and simple but brutal efficiency of his master as he danced amongst his enemies, the shoto lightsaber's used as Katar to destroy his foes.

It had been a long time, but he still remembered his Masters lessons, devastating and complex in their simplicity.

Today would be a good day to honour his lessons.

He checked the HUD system on his visor to find his bearings and ensure the suit was sealed before he then opened the small hatch, with a small hop, he landed on the wind and dust swept rock of the valley floor, with a bounce to his steps, he began his journey to the target.


From the edge of the stony ridge, Tera looked over the compound from his vantage point, his scope marking targets on his HUD as he passed over them, he sighed as he watched the droid patrol finish their pattern and begin it once more. There had been no variation for the last three times he had observed them.

Slowly he sunk back to get into a better position as he began to finalise plans.

Several sections looked odd to begin with, but taking a step back and observing the site from a good enough distance and you could recognise the patterns of the facilities structure. Dooku had simply landed and partially buried a large ship on this world, resources were delivered here and processed, the biochips then sent for use on Kamino.

In an emergency, the facility could literally pick itself up and leave.

This changed things. He would need to destroy everything and not just vital structures as he had previously planned.

The fact that Dooku had droids guarding things was both a boon and bane. On one hand these looked like standard B1's, lacking Jade's upgrades, easily beaten enemies with little combat ability or equipment, after all, he was a Jedi Master prepared and equipped for the mission at hand.

A dangerous hubris to allow to fester within him. He would need to ensure his mind remained clear in purpose.

On the other hand, many of his tactics wouldn't work, nor could he just walk in and have the guards ignore him. Effort, time and care would be required.

He released a long breath before processing his information. The chips are biological, so they are likely stored in a medium or cooled in some fashion. They likely require a form of feeding to prevent them dying, so… power, shut the power down and unless they had secondary supplies, the chips will quickly die. Radiation would likely damage them beyond repair, a reactor leak possibly?

The choice would be either subtle or blatant.

Sighing, he nodded to himself, total destruction it was. So, blow the reactor, flood the area with radiation and destroy the mainframe just in case there is important information in there. After acquiring the data first of course, there may be something of use to his mission.


Deep within the ships workings, in an unlit room, Tera gently reached out with the Force towards the large device before him. The screws holding the required panel slowly moving in concert, within moments they came free and he had them orbit him as he carefully pulled the panel from its housing. Delicate components and wires filled the device.

He pondered his next move before using pieces of copper wire from his pouch, he bypassed the internal fuses and safety mechanisms, then he simply pulled a single wire loose, gently moving the now bare wire around and now above an important and sensitive circuit board. With a smile, he restored the panel and screws, a tendril of the Force holding onto the open wire.

Once everything was secure, he released the wire and it snapped back into its normal position, the circuit board unfortunately in its way.

The sparks as the vessels comms systems frying themselves was amusingly spectacular.

A dull echo of an alarm caught his attention and Tera moved himself up into a dark corner of the room up by the ceiling.

Within minutes a pair of B1's entered the room, looking for threats before motioning the maintenance droid to get to work.

Tera waited for the guards to leave and guard the entrance from outside. With a whisper of clips opening, he disconnected the shoto from one of his bracers and silently dropped behind the maintenance droid as it muttered to itself about proper maintenance. He shook his head slightly before he placed the shoto under the droids belly and ignited it, the blade punched up into the power core of the droid and disabled it immediately.

Smiling to himself, he reattached the shoto onto the back of his bracer and moved to the entrance.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out between his targets, his arms punching towards the necks, his shoto's igniting on their way to decapitate his pair of targets. Swiftly he caught their bodies and heads with the Force, lifting them slightly from the metal floor and guiding them back into the room.

Taking a step into the corridor, he closed the door behind him and used the Force to twist the lock components, a few sparks to show his work and the droids would have to cut their way in. He had maybe, ten minutes, before others came to investigate.

Plenty of time.


Dodging into an unused room to avoid the patrol, Tera froze at the signs on the wall. Flashes of memory from an old mission with his friend Dooku came to mind. He smiled at the memory as he moved over to the life support controls and turned them on.

It seemed almost poetic to use one of Dooku's tactics against him.

He cycled atmospheric control, to begin restoring an atmosphere to the vessel, then, and very carefully, he set the oxygen content to increase to dangerous levels, one good flame and boom. With an eyebrow raised he also increased the atmospheric pressure of the vessel, when it did explode, it would spread quickly and devastatingly with the sudden changes in pressure.

Looking over the system he found the section he needed and began to redirect the spare oxygen from the storage tanks into the hyperdrive chamber, the pure oxygen atmosphere in that room would be particularly interesting later.

He tapped his finger against the controls a few times before he checked through his belt pouches and looked at what data chips were contained within. Smirking to himself, he chose a specific chip and connected it into the system to release the virus within. That should make sure that when this all triggered, the bulkheads would all open rather than seal, it would be catastrophic.

With a smile at his work, he quickly glanced into the corridor once more and seeing it clear continued his journey towards engineering.


Hanging upside down as the droids performed their duties on the walkway below, Tera connected a storage device from his belt to the mainframe access.

He carefully looked around to keep an eye on things as the device tore everything it could from the mainframe as quickly as it could before detection and the lock down that would follow.

Barely a minute passed before a slight shudder in the Force and a coiling in his gut told him his time had run out.

Trusting the instinct which had kept him alive all these long years, he dropped to the walkway and barely touched the floor before he used the Force to speed across the open space to shoulder barge the droids at the main control console. He gently laughed as he heard their surprised yells as they flew off the platform and fell to the platform three levels below. They were broken beyond effective use now, but he'd have the bruises soon enough as a price for their removal.

With experienced fingers and knowledge, he quickly disengaged all the safeties on the reactor, opening maintenance access panels and bypassing the overrides with a few of the programs held in other data chips on his person. Swiftly he began a full restart of the drive core, and then he forced the hyperdrive to begin spooling up from cold. His hand raised and summoned the storage device to his grip, quickly he stored it in the shielded pouch and moved to escape. He had about five minutes to get clear of the vessel.

Whilst a few droids would chase him, the remainder would focus on the reactor, ignoring the hyperdrive as it would not be able to activate in the gravity well. It was such a pity for them that he didn't need it to work, he only needed it to reach a certain point and fry itself.

After all, all bombs need a fuse.


Tera danced to the side of the canyon as the patrol tried to catch him in a crossfire, his blades catching the bolts and deflecting them to impact on the droids behind him, he dropped into a crouch and leapt over the droid before him.

Ten seconds.

He caught the droid around its neck with his tail, pulling him over and into another of its brethren as Tera rolled to bleed off the momentum. The sound of the metal of the droids crumpled under the impact was incredibly pleasing to his ears.

Nine seconds

He rolled to his feet, the shoto's punching through two targets, cutting their power supplies.

Eight seconds

Spinning, he used the powerless bodies as shields from more blaster fire. Weaving to his left, he watched the bolt pass as it struck a droid as it tried to flank him, removing another threat from his vicinity.

Seven seconds

Two ahead, four behind. A quick flurry of punches to the chest and limbs of a droid tore it apart, a spin allowed him to use his tail to slam the scorched remains behind him to buy him a few seconds of breathing space.

Six seconds

His HUD highlighted a small crack in the wall of the canyon, big enough for him to fit in and avoid what was coming. He reached his arms out and yanked the final droid ahead of him into his reach with the Force, impaling it upon the blades.

Five seconds

He span to face his pursuers and moved back into the first stance of the dance, allowing his mind to empty and listen to the song of the universe. To let it guide his steps and…

Four seconds

His senses screamed as the world turned white and he tore muscles as he called upon a burst of the Force to flood through his body just to reach the safety of the crack in the rock in time.

The world shook and the thin but toxic atmosphere screamed as the vessel erupted in an immense conflagration of fire and energy.


It felt like an age and a moment before his eyes snapped open to a now dark world. His helmets active HUD as well as the ability to breathe, signalled that his suit had withstood the EMP and he had been unconscious for about three hours.

"Huh," Tera blinked the spots from his vision as he pulled himself to his feet, brushing the dust from his armour as he stood back in the canyon and stretched his aching body. His countdown had been off.

HIs oxygen was nearing dangerous levels but would get him back to his ship if he didn't encounter any more threats. He carefully checked the storage device and smiled at the light showing it had survived. There would be information on there that would be of great help in his work to come.


The light of the moon of Seranno silhouetted Dooku as he sat at his desk in his office. His eyes rose at a feeling of discomfort to survey what had once been his ancestors throne room. A beep caught his attention from the comms device to the side and Dooku frowned at the unexpected contact, putting down his data pad displaying his half written speech to the CIS Senate regarding the planned progression of the war, he stood and connected the link.

The blue image of the man was harried and unkempt, his eyes rapidly looking around but never focusing upon Dooku.

This was obviously a matter of concern and the man was afraid of his reaction.

It was bad news then.

Without waiting for permission, the man blurted out his words, "My Lord, I have terrible news to report."

Raising only an eyebrow, his cold tone implying that this had better be good, Dooku spoke only one word. "Speak."

"Site twelve, it… The facility is gone, destroyed. The wreckage is heavily irradiated. Too much for the stock they kept on board to be intact should it have survived the explosion. What do you wish me to do with the blank biochips I have on board?"

Dooku closed his eyes in thought and frustration for a moment, his frustration held back to allow him to adapt to the new situation. "Take them to site nineteen, you have the co-ordinates. I will deal with the rest."

The man jerkily nodded in response, Dooku could almost taste the man's relief at his response. "As you wish my Lord."

Closing the channel, Dooku shook his head as he growled in frustration before calming himself and restoring his cool demeanour, he smoothly called another agent. The moment the link completed he quickly gave his orders, "Full clean-up on site twelve, no evidence, no trace. Immediately." Cutting the link, he pondered his options as he sent the next connection request and waited for it to connect.

Within moments, the connection completed and he watched as the blue shape of his minion kneel in respect. "How may I serve you, My Lord?"

Dooku frowned at the scientist. The Doctor had always felt wrong in the Force, even now, Dooku's skin crawled at the image of the scientist even though they were in different galactic regions. "Site twelve is gone, I'm redirecting the stock to you, prepare it for processing."

The scientist nodded to hide his grin at finally being used for the war effort. "My Lord? I would be honoured to obey, but you ordered the bioweapons sealed. I will require the code keys to access the material in the vault."

Dooku waved the request aside, "There will be no need to upset the Senate with such a matter, and I will be providing a sample of a plague for replication and use. Understand that it is highly contagious and immensely dangerous, store the plague within an inorganic shell within the chip, details of dosage will be sent alongside the sample."

"I understand my Lord, I shall begin preparations immediately."

Cutting the link, Dooku turned and headed into a great chamber of the family estate that he rarely bothered with. For the most part, there was nothing of interest amongst his ancestor's trophies, he remembered vaguely that his father had brought him and his brother here and taught them stories of the House of Dooku, what it meant to be The Dooku, the Lord of the House. Then the Jedi had come and taken him, his brother had then been raised to become the Dooku, until his return that was. His nephew was still in exile, adrift in the galaxy. Since Harry's rise to Emperor of this new Imperium, his hopes had faded and once more his nephew looked to become the next Dooku.

He sighed in tired frustration as he walked amongst the weapons and armour, banners and relics, nothing of importance to anyone anymore. Mere trinkets to be forgotten and gather dust.

All bar one dangerous gem of a relic.

The final weapon of his House to be only used in the most dire of circumstances, such as the extinction of the House of Dooku, if merely to drag their enemies to the Ancestors with them.

A weapon that his ancestors had refused to use even when the House had actually been on the brink of extinction.

A weapon he had never before dreamed to use, even in his worst nightmares.

There in the corner sat a skull floating in a suspension field. The widely spaced eye sockets glaring at the intrusion of its rest, the razor sharp teeth seemed even now to hunger for flesh. Dooku could still feel the malice and hatred imbued within the bone, Sith Alchemy at its most inspired, most dangerous and most profane.

Reaching out with a gesture and the Force he grasped the ancient bone and with a frown sensed the hateful strength still imbuing it. Carefully, he began to crush the material using the Force, until moments later, cracks began to appear and spread until with a sharp and strangely wet crunch, the bone splintered and he discarded the fragments.

Now floating there were 2 vials, a layer of frost coating them from the Gree device holding them in its grasp.

Gently he pulled them from the field, leaving a cloud of bone fragments behind and held the greatest threat to the galaxy within his hands.

Could he really do this?

Could he risk everything on this?

Could Harry survive this if it was unleashed?

Dooku sighed as these thoughts ran through his head.

Yes he could. Yes he would and yes, Harry was strong enough and prepared enough to survive this plague being unleashed across the galaxy. The likelihood of it being unleashed within or against his borders was very slim. He would have time to prepare for the tide of destruction that would come.

He gently placed the device and its prisoners into a padded container and sealed it, quickly placing the data about the dosages he required into a joined data pad. Summoning one of his agents, he passed the box across. "This is highly dangerous and a priority, site nineteen, no delays. The package must arrive safely and intact, do you understand?"

"Yes my Lord, your Will is my command." Bowing, the agent quickly left, handling the box with reverent care for its contents.

Dooku nodded to himself, his near final act of rebellion put upon the board without his Masters knowledge. Only one more to go and that had to wait until the end of the war when his Master was on the brink of victory.

Should he investigate the sites destruction and who could have done it or let it go? An investigation would be discovered by his Master, to risk ignoring it could also make its way back. No, better to act as if nothing has happened, there were enough biochips already on Kamino to deal with the delay, the new ones would just be a minor delay. He pondered a further thought, the agents manning the Spaarti Cloning Facilities would obey his commands presuming that they came from his Master, perhaps supplying those clone troopers with the new chips would disrupt their use. He would also inform Lama Su to upgrade all clone troopers in his facilities with the new chip, Dooku doubted he'd have the ten years required for his plan to mature smoothly.

Having come to a decision, he gestured at the comms system with the Force, calling site nineteen once more.

The scientist quickly reappeared and knelt. "My Lord, I have already begun preparations, I await your command and the samples to begin the work."

Dooku nodded, "Excellent. They will be with you soon. My orders are simple, but must be acted upon precisely. No deviation from my orders and the utmost secrecy, is that understood?"

"Of course my Lord."

"Good, upon receipt of the clones receiving either Order 65 or Order 66, rather than the activation of the commands from the biochip, the chips are to instead release their payload. This material must not leak or be released without that order. The black vial is the Plague to be used, the pale blue vial is the serum to stop the plague. The Serum is to be produced as quickly as possible and placed into storage for later use. I will require twenty litres of the serum to be provided to myself upon production as a priority. I want the serum in my presence before the first chips leave your facility."

The scientist nodded as he ran through his instructions, "I have just the parts in mind, I have a small stock already but I can acquire more for this. Is the Project to have a name or is there to be no record?"

"It is to be called Project Muur."