A/N: The whole idea of this fic came to me when I realized that I was playing a completely 100% dark Sith Warrior... up until the point when my character was introduced to Theron Shan.

And then, well. ;)

This story 'starts' at the beginning of KotFE, chapter 2: A Dream of Empire.

However, it will journey through 'flashbacks', which will begin around the Shadow of Revan Prelude.


Chapter 1: A Change


By some miracle of the Force, Khelía managed to open her eyes.

She was alone, weaponless, and left with only the fading images of "Valkorion" - or the "Immortal Emperor", or whoever he truly was – crumbling to his knees while his life-essence fled from his body. For a moment she had believed him to be dead. Truly dead. But when the violent force of Valkorion's soul had spread freely across the room, throwing Khelía backwards and knocking her sights into darkness... well, that was when she had realized the truth.

And so the Sith Emperor lives, she mused bitterly, glancing cautiously about as a new 'reality' began to take form above, below, and all around her.

It was a dark, gray world. Void of all life. Cold, barren, and dreary...

Ziost.

Force help her - whether this was a dream, or some demented level of Chaos - Khelía could still feel the lingering imprint of death upon this world. A sudden, guilty sensation pooled at the pit of her stomach; and the deluge of sadness and regret that would instantly follow suit were an unexpected bonus, to be sure. She had once believed herself outside the limits of such crushing feelings of remorse and grief; after everything that she had done in her lifetime, and after all of the death and destruction that she had wrought, she'd quite genuinely thought herself unable to care.

Peace is a lie, she reflected, falling back onto the Sith Code and the solace of some of her earliest teachings. However, that too failed to calm the torrent of shame she now felt, and her lips curled back into a sneer as she considered what Darth Baras would be saying to her now; if he were still among the living...

And yet, maybe none of that mattered now.

Khelía knelt hesitantly forward – half expectant to fall weightlessly through the ground below her boots, and land in some other reality – and she pressed her fingertips down into the surface of the frozen wasteland. She was shocked to discover that it felt so real; not at all like an illusion or a figment of the imagination. Intrigued, she gripped a handful of gray, coarse sand, and allowed it to spill from between her fingers as she straightened.

Her dark robes fluttered lightly as a strong breeze, scentless and frigid, wrapped around her body, and a strange, electric sensation prickled along the back of her neck. Recognizing this sensation to be the indication that she was - in fact - not alone, Khelía turned...

… and found nothing.

"Would you value an explanation as to why I chose you as my Wrath?" A disembodied voice echoed across the plane.

Khelía swallowed thickly and reached for the sheath at her hip; disappointed to discover that she was groping through open air.

Right. Well, no matter.

Steeling herself, the former Wrath of the Emperor squared her narrow shoulders and smirked. Certainly, she may have been without a lightsaber, but one thing remained undisturbed in this place; the Force. It was intoxicatingly strong here – wherever here was – and to say that Khelía was 'strong with the Force' may have been the understatement of the millennia.

"Slim pickings among the ranks?" She jested to the void; unsurprised to discover that her own voice was unnaturally detached and resounding, as well.

Appearing – quite literally from nothing but shadows and whispers – Valkorion shifted forward, adorning the same white and gold outfit that he'd 'died' within; save for the massive hole in his chest, where Khelía had shoved her lightsaber deep into the center of his heart. The moment he turned towards her, silhouetted by the sliver of light from Ziost's single moon, his yellow eyes distant and cold, Khelía knew for certain that he was real. At least, as real as anything could be in this place...

"I had a plethora of options." Said Valkorion, voice tainted with mild irritation. "But I was seeking something more than an ardent servant. And you, in particular, reminded me of my daughter."

A bubble of frenzied disbelief formed within the center of Khelía's chest and burst past her lips in the form of a maniacal laugh. Once she had recovered from her humorous bout, she inquired breathlessly, "are you about to get all sentimental?"

"Vaylin was always my favorite child; authoritative, persuasive, and incredibly strong in the Force. You possess these qualities, as well. But, unlike Vaylin, you were easy to control." Valkorion persisted, trampling his speech onward while paying little-to-no regard to her frivolous remarks. "That is, you used to be."

Khelía swiftly worked her way through Valkorion's short, numbing dialogue; and came out on the other end of it, uncertain if she should be offended, or flattered, or … what.

If she'd had more time to make sense of her surroundings, the former Wrath may have felt more equipped to snap back at the Emperor with some clever comment or snide retort. But this... well, there was no witty quip that was going to get her out of this. And if this was the afterlife that she had earned, Khelía considered silently, then she wanted zero part in it.

"Am I dead?" She asked, at length. Though, in her heart, she already knew the answer.

Valkorion clasped his hands behind his back and widened his stance; bracing, as if he were preparing for her to come barreling towards him in a fit of rage.

"Not yet." He muttered mysteriously.

Riddles, as usual. She should have anticipated that.

Khelía narrowed her eyes and flicked her tongue across the front row of her teeth. She would have attacked him - force choked him, perhaps - if she had thought that this action would do her any good. But, all things considered, Valkorion had her at quite the disadvantage; for it was he, alone, who knew what had happened to her. And he knew where – or, rather, what – they were trapped inside of.

Alright, Khelía finally mused, I'll bite. "So, this is a nightmare."

"We are on the edge of your conscious. You have many tormented emotions about this planet, in particular, making it an easy location to pull you towards." Valkorion glanced momentarily around him, drinking in the replicated version of the desolate world that he had single-handedly destroyed; and Khelía swore that he looked almost proud.

Angry heat rose up from the center of her chest, despite the persistent chill of Ziost, and she opened her mouth to speak – but it was Valkorion's voice that filled the silence, instead.

"As for your physical body; you are frozen in carbonite. You have my children to thank for that."

His words had a sobering affect, and Khelía felt instantly weak at the knees.

Oh. Oh.

This... this she had not expected.

This was bad.

And thus, an overwhelming flood of questions crowded into the core focus of her mind. Frozen in carbonite!? Where? On Zakuul? What had happened after the battle? Did the Empire fall? Did the Republic escape? Did anyone know that she had survived? And what had happened to her allies?

Clinging onto the first solution that brought forth any semblance of hope, Khelía stammered, "my allies will come for me."

Valkorion shook his head stiffly back and forth, eyes glittering with amusement.

"Whom do you speak of? Your derelict crew of miscreants and slaves? Your impressionable Sith Lord friend? The obstinate Republic SIS agent?" He paused and began to saunter slowly away, leaving an icy wave of smugness in his wake. "Each day they drift further out of reach; finding new purpose and seeking out new alliances."

Khelía glared at the empty space where Valkorion had stood, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. She didn't believe him. She didn't want to believe him. And yet, she had been betrayed before. She had been betrayed by Darth Baras, her former master. She had been betrayed by the Emperor of the Sith – or Valkorion, as it were. And, she had been betrayed by someone who she had believed to have loved her; and that betrayal, above all others, ran deep along the veins to her soul.

She took an unconscious step forward, as if she were going to chase after the Emperor, but she was shocked to discover that he had once again disappeared. Blinking back her irritation, she barked out, "if I'm so doomed, then why are you here?"

"You are simply a part of me that I do not wish to lose."

Valkorion's detached voice caused a chill of unease to creep up the back of her spine.

"You've changed." She breathed, not quite able to keep the cynicism out of her voice.

A contemplative silence engulfed the world, and then, "as have you. And I want to know why."

She could feel him reappear behind her and she turned, chin lifted. "Perhaps I realized what a murderous lunatic you are."

To her immediate amusement, Valkorion looked affronted. "Do not insult me with your lies. You knew me, better than most. You knew what I was. You knew who I was."

This gave Khelía pause. She wondered if -perhaps- a part of her had always known of him; known of Valkorion, of the Immortal Emperor of Zakuul, of the Emperor who would wipe out an entire world for his own personal gain... but that ever-lingering, tortured and betrayed feeling at the pit of her stomach reminded her that this simply was not the case.

After several moments of silent debate, Khelía narrowed her eyes upon the Emperor, expression grave. If she were going to be expected to endure him, and all of his puzzling questions, then he would have to humor hers, as well; for she did not die -rather, nearly die- to come up empty-handed and without answers. "Why did you destroy Ziost?"

"There is a far more important question to be asked, here." Said Valkorion, gesturing about with an open palm for emphasis. "Why does Ziost's destruction afflict you so strongly?"

Khelía's jaw tightened and she spoke through gritted teeth. "You killed every living being on the planet."

Valkorion stalked towards her, irritation thick within his gaze. "Once, not long ago, you saw completion to everything that I commanded; without question, without hesitation, and without remorse. You took hundreds of lives, in my name. You sacrificed your own freedom to serve me. You went against your own beliefs and judgments to bring my visions to life. I believe you would have died for me, had I asked it of you."

Once he was within arms reach the Emperor paused in his gait. He towered over her, like most men did, though she wasn't exactly what one would describe as 'short'. Now, however, in the shadow of Valkorion, Khelía felt very small, indeed.

"What changed?" He asked of her, voice just above a murmur.

Stunned silence fell in the echo of his question, and Khelía felt her stomach coil and drop.

She could sense where this was going. Surely, it had been a question that weighed heavily upon the Emperor; ever since Khelía had stabbed him - quite literally - in the back. Still, she didn't have an actual answer to offer him. She only knew that – at some point – she had come to accept the change within herself, and never looked back.

"As I suspected. You don't understand the change within you, either." A dark shadow crossed over Valkorion's face in response to her silence, and he twisted away from her. "Do you remember the state that your mind was in when I first summoned you? You were a lowly Sith, betrayed by your master. I gave you a second life. Anointed you my Wrath. Rose you up from the dirt and aided you in becoming one of the most well-renowned Sith in the galaxy. I shaped you into a being that shook the Empire, and caused even the lords of the dark council to tremble. And yet, once I finally offered to share all of my power with you - my Wrath - you not only denied it, but you destroyed my body in return."

Yes, she had.

And she would do it a thousand times over, if given the chance.

"As I recall it," Khelía smiled, unperturbed, "you commanded Arcann to kill me. What did you expect? That I would attribute it to a 'lapse in judgment' on your part, and simply walk away?"

Valkorion turned, eyes ablaze. "I knew that my son would not kill you. He could not, even if he had tried. Do you understand? I am the Sith Emperor. I am Valkorion. I am immortal. I am the most powerful being this galaxy has and ever will know... and I am trying to help you, as I always have."

His words were dripping with innuendo, and Khelía felt hard-pressed by a jarring realization. Something was going on, something that had gone completely over head up until this point; for the Emperor, as she knew him, never did anything selflessly.

Feigning indifference, she waved her hand weightlessly through the air and turned to walk away. "I don't have time for your riddles."

Valkorion barked out a laugh that held little humor. "On the contrary, you have nothing but time. And we will use it to evolve you."

Khelía snapped her eyes up onto the Emperor with breakneck speed. "Evolve – what!?"

Valkorion's lips curled back to reveal a smile that chilled her blood. "We are going to travel through your memories, and uncover why you changed from the merciless, powerful Sith Lord that I created, into this... this shell of your former self."

Death it is, then.

Khelía raised her hand to eye-level; sparks of electricity now humming at the tips of her fingers. "'Shell of my former self'? Oh, Valkorion... you underestimate me."

Once again, Valkorion laughed. Then, before his former Wrath had any time or ability to react, he disappeared.

"It is a simple thing, the human mind. Once it feels something strongly, it becomes etched within the memory; trapped within the subconscious..."

The Emperor's voice trembled and rumbled like rolling thunder before the rain. He was everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

Khelía spun about in a tight circle -once, twice, three times- causing the bottom of her robe to flip wildly against her heels, eyes searching madly for Valkorion. A few dark tendrils fell free from the high tail of hair at the back of her head, dropping down in messy clumps and tangles around her pale, narrow face.

All of a sudden, it felt like the Emperor's fingers were physically wrapping around her brain; a sensation of which she had never felt the likes of before. The attack brought Khelía mercilessly to her knees, and she began to claw at her temples while drawing in rapid, harsh breaths. To scream out in pain, she supposed bitterly, would be far too satisfying to him, and she would not provide him with such satisfaction...

"... ah, yes... I can almost reach it... the beginning of this change... it is deep, and hidden; even to you..."

It was hopeless, she realized, as she rose shakily to her feet and observed as the once-quiet world of Ziost began to crumble violently away. Khelía watched -half dazed, half impressed- as giant chunks of the planet plummeted down into an endless span of nothingness; black and empty, like the spaces between the stars

Eventually, the ground beneath her own feet gave way, and a sickening sensation took hold of her gut as she found herself disappearing into open air. She tried to scream, tried to yell out, tried to curse Valkorion's name; but there was nothing. Nothing but his voice, whispering vehemently into her ear.

"... it took time, this change. A series of events..."

She was sinking into an oppressive darkness, mind and body scattered into a million different pieces. She was unable to move, unable to see, and too tired to fight back. She felt nothing. No hatred, nor fear, nor love, nor happiness; everything felt blank, and without meaning. But, there was something out there... something worth fighting for, something worth trying for, something worth dying for. Something that Valkorion was desperately trying to uncover, slowly but surely. Something that had changed Khelía. Something that she hadn't even realized was there.

Suddenly, a voice; not belonging to Valkorion. A voice so familiar and so comforting and so sweet, calling out from the suffocating shadows. A voice that somehow made its way through this hollow, depressing cavity in space and time.

"Hi. You don't know me, obviously, but I'm here with Lana."

Khelía found the truth of it then, as all of the pieces pulled vigorously back together, falling into perfect position right before her eyes.

It wasn't something that had changed her, after all.

It was someone.


A/N: I'm fairly certain that there isn't a large interest out there for a story with this particular pairing. But, hey. It had to be written. It wouldn't leave me alone.

If you've made it this far, and you're going to be part of the few to go along on this journey with me, let me know what you think!

Love.