Tainted Ties -

ACT THREE:

Lost Son

In the last eleven years, much has changed, yet much remains the same. Tratzel's army continues to grow, and his ongoing campaign against the Hutts has facilitated his rise to power through the ranks of the Republic military. Koren, the son of Vhinh Skywalker, continues to grow in the ways of the dark side of the Force under his master, Darth Sceptaurus, and has been given his title as the newest Dark Lord of the Sith.

Meanwhile, the Jedi are fighting their own war against the Tekdaemon cartel, despite Tratzel's increasingly more adamant requests that they withdraw in order to join in his efforts against the Hutts, seeking to eliminate them completely. Nars Free'ta and Karta Oblith have taken hiatus from the bounty hunter trade to aid the Jedi in this growing war effort.

The Republic has experienced a slight relief from the heavy economic strain caused by the rise of the cartels. How long this relief will last remains to be seen. The public view of the Jedi has become a more positive one in light of the Order's success against the Tekdaemon cartel. Eulian Tratzel's Chrome Guard, however, have also become an institution in the Republic for maintaining order in the galaxy.

With work becoming harder to find amid the massive cartel losses, the bounty hunters have become restless, even at times fighting amongst themselves for bounties and territory. The Bounty Hunters Guild has elected a Chieftain to see them through these hard times and attempt to bring the Guild back to its former glory.

The Jedi feel they are getting closer to uncovering the secrets of Eulian Tratzel and the Tekdaemons, and unmasking a possible Sith lord. Darth Sceptaurus, on the other hand, is preparing to strike, unleashing his army and new apprentice upon the unsuspecting galaxy.

With so many warring factions, each must ultimately choose between two sides - though it may not always be clear which is which...

-1-

Vhinh awoke in a haze. He'd had the dream again - the dream about the single, blood-red star. But he'd communicated with it this time, had felt its life force reaching back. Then the star slowly became swallowed by the surrounding darkness, but he could still feel its heat. Though now he could no longer see it, he felt it drawing closer... closer... until he felt the searing heat on him, burning him. He tried to cry out, but there was no sound. And then he'd awoken.

As he lay back for a moment, allowing the haze to clear, he silently contemplated the dream's meaning. He'd been having this dream, off and on, since after he'd spent that one night with Nea. He hadn't heard from her, and didn't expect to, since their last meeting at the cafe over a decade ago. But that blood-red star; did it represent her - or their son?

Vhinh still tried to contact Koren, but the connection was getting harder to establish, as if something was twisting at it, obscuring it. And more and more often, he'd received strange, cryptic messages in return; hate-filled messages that deeply disturbed him. Vhinh now worried for him, and hoped that once Eulian Tratzel was brought to justice, it would help shed new light on the subject of Nea and Koren.

Rolling over, his eyes came to rest on Karta, who lay by his side. A smile once again graced his lips, and he pulled himself closer to her. Smoothing her long hair back from her face, he planted a single, tender kiss on her lips. Her eyes slowly opened, and when they came to focus on him, a smile shown on her face as well.

"Will you marry me?" he asked softly, not taking his eyes off her.

She ran her fingers through his hair, then pulled him in for a kiss.

"No. But thank you for asking."

"And I'll keep asking every day until the answer is yes."

"Go ahead. Who knows, one day you might get lucky."

"I'm always lucky when I'm with you." With that, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, and they shared a long kiss.

He had, in fact, been asking her that very question on a daily basis, sometimes in person, sometimes over holo, for the last year or so. And she'd always given him the same answer. It had almost become like a ritual to them. Vhinh understood that Karta had unresolved issues, that her mind was still heavily occupied with the ongoing situation with Tratzel and the Tekdaemons. And Karta desperately wanted to marry Vhinh, and swore she would one day, if they didn't end up dead first.

It had been a long and tortured courtship between the two. They'd both been rather reserved with expressing their true feelings, trying to focus on the ongoing war effort rather than personal matters, though their feelings had been obvious to them and anyone around them. When they'd finally given in, they'd become like some old married couple, as if they'd been together forever.

Constantly occupied with the campaign against the Tekdaemons, they didn't get many moments like this, but made the most of the ones they did.

"Why are you up so early?" she asked, seeing the wall chrono that barely read oh-five-hundred hours. "Did you have the dream again?"

He nodded, and she gently stroked his temple with her fingertips.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know - not really much to say. It seems like it's getting stronger, though."

"What do you think that means?"

"I really wish I knew." After a long moment, he sat up. "I miss him, Karta. I've never even met him, and I still miss him. I still worry - that something isn't right."

She knew what he was talking about. Vhinh had told her about everything; his misguided love interest, their one night of indiscretion, and the son he'd never met - perhaps the best thing to come of the entire situation.

Karta scooted in close behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I know." She squeezed him hard. "I think that whatever happens, he'll be able to handle it, though. He is a Skywalker, after all."

"Maybe that's what I'm afraid of." He shuddered at the thought, but reached back to bury his hand in her hair, kissing her forehead.

They sat quietly like that for a few moments, until she finally broke the silence. "Do you think we should start getting ready?"

"We still have time," he said, turning to face her, then pulling her close and kissing her.

"Mmm. We should wake up early every morning," she said as they lay back, falling into each other.

Torrentia Galaxica; translation: Dangerous Galaxy. The nightclub was aptly named in its native Plenthese tongue, as the only beings who dared, or were even allowed, to set foot in the hot spot were either the very rich, very powerful, or both. You didn't get in if you weren't on the list - and the list comprised many high-level cartel members, politicians, even a few very successful bounty hunters, among others. A remnant of organized crime's heyday, it was was stationed on Plentha, one of the few remaining solely Tekdaemon-controlled worlds.

For those on the top floor, in a private suite called the Dragon Room, that heyday had not yet ended.

The Dragon Room, reserved by and for only the most elite of Torrentia Galaxica's already exclusive list of patrons, was nearly the size of a luxury Coruscantian apartment, and every bit as fancy. Fine furnishings, ludicrously-priced artwork, a state-of-the-art holo center, in-floor sauna and a full bar stocked with only the galaxy's finest wines and liquors made any visitor truly feel like a king or queen - and one practically had to be in order to afford a night there. The current occupants, however, weren't there for the atmosphere.

"This pulse better be as good as you say it is, Tago," a man spoke, perhaps in his mid-twenties, looking too young to have achieved such status. He wore his hair long but well-kept, was clean-shaven and immaculately dressed.

Pulse, the hottest designer spice currently on the market, was normally inhaled in its shimmering, translucent blue powder form. It did indeed affect the user's pulse rate, among other things. Stimulating the adrenal gland, it was like receiving a shot of pure adrenaline, enabling the user to do things they normally couldn't - or thought they couldn't. While this had obvious uses, one could still enjoy the spice without being active, as it stimulated dopamine receptors, bringing about intense feelings of euphoria, and even contained psycho-active chemicals which enabled the user to actually create their own reality in their mind, while having complete control over it.

A do-it-all spice, it also demanded a high price, and not only in credits. Highly addictive, it could, over time, obscure the user's concept of reality, in addition to causing physical and mental deterioration, leaving one a weak, mindless mess, slowly rotting from the inside. While this didn't happen to every user, it was easy to get pulled in before you knew it, and the effects were irreversible.

"Don't worry, Krayto. I stand by my product. See for yourself." The much older Kaleesh know as Tago removed a small vibro-blade from his front pocket, breaking up a clump of the sparkling powder on a tray and offering it to the younger human. Both were surrounded with men who were as well-armed as they were dressed.

Krayto took the tray and, gathering a small amount on his finger-tip, brought it to one of his nostrils and inhaled sharply. He immediately shook his head vigorously, closing his eyes and scrunching up his face. "Yup. That's the stuff."

"I got an entire Correllian freighter full of it, headed your way once our intermediary receives the credits."

"They're already on their - "

Just then, a loud creaking was heard coming from the ceiling of the Dragon Room. Within seconds, it manifested into a large crash, a smoking hot slab of durasteel plating breaking through the decorative ceiling's covering and landing in the middle of the floor, narrowly missing a few of the men.

From out of the new hole in the ceiling emerged four Jedi, including Edala Gilgeri, who had only recently received the title of Master. The room quickly erupted with blaster-fire from every being, except for Krayto, who, with the press of a button on his suit-front, was instantly encased in full body armor, including helmet, and hastily ran for the exit.

Not about to let any of these ring leaders get away, Edala immediately took off after him. This guy was fast, though! Already reaching the roof of the building, he began jumping from rooftop to rooftop as if it were nothing. But Edala was a Jedi Master, and it was nothing to her. Still, the guy was doing a good job in keeping distance between them, and she feared she may have to use more extreme measures: to allow him to escape was not an option.

Removing her lightsaber from her belt, she flung it toward him, aiming low with an arc that would take off his left foot. A second before the blade made contact, however, he jumped over it!

How in the stars?! she thought, catching the lightsaber upon its did, however, slow him down enough for her to begin to close the distance between them. Let's see if he can do that again. Again she flung the weapon at him, this time about knee height, and he vaulted over it, a split-second before it would have seriously hindered his mobility.

Who the hell is this guy? She would find out.

His armor, though appearing to be light-weight, must have been wearing on him, because his pace had slowed just a little, and after Edala's last attack, she was able to close the distance - enough to make a desperate leap, latching onto one of his legs and tripping him up.

Expecting the thug to put up a fight, she quickly flipped him over, straddling him, achieving full guard, and drawing her lightsaber, holding it centimeters from his face.

Then she began her interrogation.

"Who are you?! Where did you learn to do that?! Answer me!" she pressed, all the while shaking him violently with her free hand.

"Woah! Easy, Dal - it's me!" came a voice from behind the mask.

Dal. The nick-name brought memories flooding back to her, memories from her childhood. No one had called her that in so long...

In her momentary stupor, he was able to wriggle one of his arms free, and with it, gestured to his helmet. "May I?"

She realized he was asking permission to remove it. Okay, she was willing to oblige. Stepping off of him, she allowed him to stand up and dust himself off, but kept her saber drawn, eyeing him carefully.

When he finally removed the helmet, she was hit with something. That face - so different, yet so much the same; an older version of one who had once been near and dear to her heart. But it couldn't be - could it?

"Jhan?"

He said nothing, only gazed at her, as if taking his first fresh breath in years.

It was Jhan. Then she was hit by something else - a swarm of feelings - feelings she'd pushed back, denied; feelings she'd been forced to forget.

Before he could attempt to speak, Jhan was hit with something as well - a hard, stinging slap across the face.

"What was that for, Dal?" he asked, popping his jaw back into place and holding a hand over the new large pink blotch on his face.

"What was that for? What was that for?! Are you serious, Jhan?!" she screamed, pushing him roughly. Then she searched his eyes, almost pleadingly, a single teardrop falling down her cheek.

He looked instantly remorseful, and his own eyes began to glaze over as well. All the nights he'd pushed that image from his mind, not wanting to face what he had done when he'd abandoned the temple - abandoned her. And here it was, staring him in the face - and he couldn't push it away; because it was real.

"I know, Dal. I'm so sorry - I can't even say. I wanted so badly to take you with me, but I knew you wouldn't go, that you'd try to get me to stay. And I couldn't stay - couldn't be a part of what was going on..." He looked into her eyes, and he wanted so badly for his words to convey all he wished to say to her. But he knew they fell flat.

Now she looked at him bitterly. "Well, I see you found something much better."

After the sarcasm sunk in, he shook his head profusely. "No, no! This - ," he pressed a button on his armor, folding it away and again revealing his expensive clothes, "this is all for show, Dal - it's an act! I'm still fighting for the same reason, but I'm doing it differently. I'm on to something - I've learned things - big things!"

Then he lowered his voice, barely over a whisper. "Did you know there's a rumor that the entire Tekdaemon organization is run by a Sith lord? A Sith lord!"

She looked at him, unmoved. "Well, we've already suspected something to that effect."

He went on, "and all those bounty hunters, who always had information we didn't - they were working for the cartels - both cartels! The whole thing was a conspiracy!"

Edala seemed to process this. "We've thought as much, but we can't prove anything."

Jhan looked at her, excitedly, eyes wide. "Well I can!"

"Then come with me back to the temple," she urged, placing her hand on his, her face now softening.

He quickly looked down and to the side. "I can't. I disgraced them when I left; I can't go back."

"None of that matters now! Do you know what it did to us when you left, Jhan? Master Skywalker would take you back in a second - you were the best student we had!"

He shook his head. "Look, Dal, can we not do this right now? I don't know what I'm going to do, but there's still more I need to do. Can we just - ," his voice grew tender, "can I just look at you for a minute?"

She said nothing, but stood there, allowing him to look upon her, turning her head to the side to avoid his gaze.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he said, "just like I remember. And you're... are you a Master now?"

She nodded absently, but still wouldn't look at him.

"I'm so proud of you, Dal! And I've missed you so much." He opened his arms to her. "Come here."

Turning to face him again, she reluctantly moved toward his waiting embrace. She looked up at him, some of the uncertainty slowly fading from her eyes. Then she abruptly stopped, taking a step back.

Her eyes went cold. "You really are deep into this, aren't you?"

Confusion now filled his face. "Wait - what? I told you this is an act!"

"Save it!" she snapped. Looking away again, she shook her head, then looked back, raising a finger to him. "Whatever you decide to do, Jhan, just know that this is the only time I'm letting you go, so you'd better take the chance before I change my mind. You keep running with the cartels, and you are my enemy, and will be treated as such."

With that, she turned and strode away.

"Wait - Dal! Don't go!" he said pleadingly.

"You have something on your nose!" she yelled back to him, not even bothering to turn.

As he watched her leave, walking out of his life like he'd done to her so long ago, only moments after their tearful reunion, he didn't know if he should try to follow her or if she was somehow right. Touching a finger to his nose, he found a trace of shimmering blue powder. No doubt she'd also seen his dilated pupils.

It was all an act, though - a convincing one, but only because it had to be. There was so much more he needed to do, but he was getting closer...

Perhaps he was right not to follow her. There were other things; things she wouldn't understand... But he wanted so badly to just be back in her life again. Seeing her had only reinforced that.

How many more casualties would it take?

From out the transparisteel window of their abode on Xadox, two Sith lords watched the colossal construction droids hard at work on their ever-expanding colony. The droids now worked constantly to keep up with the housing needs of the growing Sith army. Of course much of the Chrome Guard were already stationed on various Republic worlds, serving newly-appointed Supreme Commander Eulian Tratzel in his campaign against the Hutt cartel, but Darth Sceptaurus wasn't yet ready for the true size of his army to be known.

"When do we strike, Master? I am ready - I feel it." The one formerly known by the name Koren, but now only as Darth Zin, turned to his master, their faces both shrouded in black.

"I know you are, my apprentice. Patience... the time is almost at hand. Soon, the Jedi will all fall before us."

"You know there is only one Jedi I am concerned with, Master. Allow me to slay him, and I will kill as many of the others as you wish."

"Then you must follow my lead - do this, and I will deliver him to you personally."

Darth Zin nodded. "It is so strong, Master. I feel it consuming me."

Darth Sceptaurus only smiled. He could sense it - and it sent shivers down his spine. The term 'caged animal' did not even begin to do it justice. If a fusion bomb could be imbued with hatred and given the will to unleash that hatred on a chosen target, that was what Darth Zin most closely embodied. Sceptaurus's own power surged from the hatred radiating off Zin. He had never felt so powerful himself - even moreso knowing that he controlled this power, and would direct it as he saw fit.

Darth Zin was, Darth Sceptaurus now believed, his crowning achievement. In time, however, there would no longer be a use for him, and he would become a liability; then just another casualty. But Sceptaurus would savor this time they had together, for it was like the primal, savage phase of a world's evolution, filled with heart and purpose, before finally settling into the more mature, rational state of civilization.

The decadence, he would save for the Republic, for it in fact had already entered into this phase. Of course he would salvage what he could, in order to bend it to his will, only eliminating the elements that he deemed detrimental to his Empire's future success. Those particular elements, he would crush completely, taking steps to ensure they never re-surfaced to disrupt his plans.

It was definitely not a good time to be a Jedi.

Notes:

Hey guys, sorry it's been so long! Don't like to make excuses so I'll just say I'm back and there are many surprises to come - stay tuned! Thanks for hanging in there and I promise I'll do my best to make it worth your while! No cover yet for Act Three but I'll get around to it eventually.

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.