Author's Note: This story is ready - there are twelve chapters, which will be added once a week, until it is done. There's also some sequels, the first which I have now completed, and will be publishing once I'm done with this one.
This has also been A LOT of work. You guys have no idea how much research and discussions and plotting and arguing and debating this has taken - and it's all worth it. Not only that, but it led me into things I had never considered before, and that now are a big part of my life, but the most special part was probably working along with Dark_K, and whose initial tiny idea ended up in a crazy megalomaniacal (even for my admittedly high standards) multifandom crazy project that has transformed us both - hopefully, for the best. I should also take this moment to thank her for existing, and for being there with me, every step of the way; as well as for everything else - the Anakin I needed in order to stop being a bore and just become - well. This. Or maybe it's the other way around. We may never know. It doesn't even matter because I'd still be proud to be her best friend. I really do hope you guys like it even a tenth as much as I do, because you'll still have the time of your lives with it if that's the case.
Finally: This is a Star Wars fusion, but things are slightly different. The universe is basically the same, and yet some things are different, but you'll get it along the story.
Prologue: First Shadows
As Nimueh approached the old red Defender, she could see it was ready to leave at a moment's notice. It was not uncommon for her to feel thankful for the padawan she had received; Mordred's willingness to follow her crazy plans was a blessing often and especially welcome in moments like this one, when a full score of Jin'ha warriors was chasing her through a swamp, shooting in her direction. She allowed her prescience to control her movements, covering her back as she ran, jumping and starting again, not paying attention to the water and mud that covered the flaps hanging from her belt and her leg-wraps.
There wouldn't be much to save from the boots, though.A shame, she had liked them.
Nimueh could sense the presence of the two missing Jedi they had been sent to find — she might have gone a bit over what the Council had asked her to do but, at least, thanks to her ever faithful padawan, the detour hadn't prevented them from achieving their goal on the damned planet. She wondered how much the other two Jedi had discovered before they were found, but doubted it had been all that much. Although neither Aglain nor Da'n'yy were fools,the crash had happened too soon to allow them to find anything. If the damage hadn't been so extensive, they would never have been caught.
It didn't matter if they hadn't found anything out one way or another, for what she had discovered would be more than enough — incriminating proof, if anybody asked her — and she couldn't care less what the Paqwes had to say for themselves in this case. She highly doubted some of her once allies and long time rivals would care to hear their explanations either. It was impossible that they were unaware of the Jin'ha's activities in their planet, and whether they were being paid to turn a blind eye or were just too indolent to take action against it mattered very little for the final outcome of it.
Fact remained that they were here, armed and ready for a fight, chasing her through the swamp. A tight beam of light shone in her hand, the azure coloured double-blade clashing to their surroundings like a beacon of protection, rushing to meet the blaster bolts without conscious thought, its prolonged length protecting her as she twirled it in an vertical arc that she had no conscience of forming.
Nimueh jumped in a cartwheel, landing in the midst of what was almost a river, with a current and everything, and ran upstream, not stopping to look back. The cortosi armours that made sure that her reflected shots didn't hurt the Jin'ha would greatly slow them down in this pursuit, specially against the natural flow of water. It was the way of the Force, that nature would help defending those who served its balance.
The Jedi pushed ahead, ignoring how the creek rose towards her thighs. It barely slowed her down, and she searched for her padawan's distinct Force signature, thankful once again that he was such a talented telepath. Nimueh herself couldn't receive much more than emotions or feelings, detect lies and intentions, but never fully listen to a person's words, didn't matter how much they shouted at her mind. Mordred, on the other hand, heard it all crystal clear.
Turn the engines on — we won 't have much time.
The roar of the ignition came not ten seconds later, and she allowed herself to look behind her. Her companions were now yelling to each other, and starting to aim at the ship they could finally see. One of them — the leader — watched her stopping through the scope of his gun, as he aimed at her. Nimueh made sure to grin at him before she dodged, turning off her lightsaber in a quick switch before her whole body went under the muddy water.
Even swimming, she could still hear shouting, and Mordred's nagging in the back of her mind as she fought the currents towards the ship. The dark rich swamp water made it impossible to see and only the Force could lead her on. With strong movements of her well-trained limbs she continued, until even underwater she could feel the heavy metal structure of the light corvette that had brought them as if it was a living being, which, after centuries of service to the Jedi, it might as well be.
Nimueh pushed up from inside the water, and she heard the screaming of the Jin'ha, but they were too far away now to reach her. With an impulse, she jumped up at the ships lowered ramp, and Mordred lost no time in closing it. The boy was a good pilot, as much as he didn't like to admit it.
Master Aglain was the first to receive her, seemingly unimpressed with her sorry state. They had been good friends before, when she was younger, but he seemed to be weary of her now. Many of her old friends still were, even if she had done nothing but prove her continued allegiance to them for the last seven years.
"You seem to have run into some trouble," he said, as she dripped muddy water unto the floor. Nimueh grinned at him.
"I see my padawan was able to save your sorry self from the Jin'ha. What happened here?"
"Tales can wait until you're… presentable."
Nimueh merely shook her head, not wishing to get into an argument about how this wasn't the most important thing to worry about at that moment. The Kel-Dor master had already made it clear many times before he disapproved of the liberties some of the Jedi, Nimueh included, took with their clothing and their state. She headed into the ship, feeling Aglain's eyes on her from beneath his goggles, but she wouldn't give the Kel-Dor master the pleasure of seeing her squirm.
The door to the control room opened easily, and Mordred didn't even look at her before running his report.
"Both seem to have been injured in the crash, unarmed and locked inside a building made of Force-containing materials. They damaged our fuel box in the shooting as we landed, we won't make it to Coruscant like that — I've set the coordinates to the Bannistar Station instead. We'll jump to lightspeed in a couple of minutes — I don't think they'll be able to get ships off the ground quickly enough to engage us."
"Can't be out of here fast enough," she agreed and smiled, knowing that he could feel it even without seeing. "You did well, padawan."
She could feel his contentment without need for words, as he tapped the seat next to his and pulled up the communication system to warn the other two occupants of the ship.
"Jumping into lightspeed in three… two… one…"
Nimueh considered the merits of strapping the seat belt in her state versus being thrown away and sat quickly, buckling herself up. The move to lightspeed was as jarring as usual, stars blurring as their velocity picked up. As soon as the inertia allowed the ship to stabilise, she stood up again.
"I need a change of clothes — and remember to ask a droid to come and clean up the mess I've made once we reach Bannistar."
She could barely wait for the moment when she would feel the hot water falling over her body after the terribly cold and muddy waters of the swamp. Maybe there were some positive things to be said in Aglain's love for proper presentation after all. A moment to consider all she had learnt would do her very well right now.
Da'n'yy had been in front of the council many times before, but it never made it less uncomfortable, especially after something that could only be described as a failure. It was a bit weird to see them — most of them around his age or younger — and yet, he was the one to be seen as a child in the situation. He doubted even young Mordred would be treated thus. Then again, young as he was, Master Nimueh's padawan had been the one to rescue them. If he wasn't a Jedi, it might have rankled, being saved by a child whose parents were born after him; but in an Anzat's long life-spam, he was little more than an youngling, same as Mordred.
Master Kilgharrah's eyes were as cryptic as always as he the chamber of the council came online, the hologram, instead of making them all duller, just made the Grand Master look even more mysterious. Incredibly old, probably the last of his kind, Kilgharrah's features were even harder to read than those that showed in other reptilian species, as if age and communion with the Force had erased all marks of the things that normally characterised sentient beings.
"We're glad to see you well, Master Alator, Da'n'yy," Master Deaton started, and they could do little but to incline their heads in acceptance. The Korun master was easier to read, a small mark of concern between his eyebrows. "I suppose you two ran into some trouble."
"We were shot off the sky before we even made contact," he grumbled, and he saw some foreheads creasing. "It was a bigger crash than we expected — we lost consciousness for a while and once we woke up, we were already captives. I am sorry, masters."
"It seems diplomacy has left the field in Paqwepor," noted Master Peter, an amused glint in his blue eyes, but then again, the man always seemed amused. He had been a strange one, even as a child.
"Excuse me, Masters," pleaded Mordred, and his pale cheeks coloured a bit at their attention. "I believe it is more serious than that — they were fully prepared to deal with… Unwanted guests with Jedi capabilities. I found them behind a cortosis door, and there was some on the walls of the building. My lightsaber spazzed out upon trying to force my way in…"
"Brute force isn't always the answer, young padawan," reminded him Master Isel-dir; which made Master Ruadan snort. Master Deaton rose his eyebrow at both before turning back towards Mordred. It was always funny to see when the council seemed to disagree; but there was a reason why Deaton had been voted Leader of the Council — the Korun master just had a way of making them all fall in line that was far less scary than Master Kilgharrah's rare puffs.
"And the shackles they had too — there was something about it…"
"Ysalamir hide," Da'n'yy provided. "Somehow they managed to keep the properties of the animal in it; we could not reach for the Force."
"These are disturbing news," Alator's long head was inclined towards them, making his face look graver than usual. "What reason could they possibly be for them to be so well prepared against us? Did you manage to find any information about what they were doing in Paqwepor Major?"
Da'n'yy shook his head.
"We did not have the time to talk or even to investigate — we left soon after Mordred freed us."
"It was a retrieving mission," Master Aglain reminded his peers, his voice rough under his breathing mask. "We didn't have time to waste on…"
"Luckily, Master Nimueh didn't think it would do to waste the trip — and she did find out something important."
He smiled at her, and she raised her eyebrow at him; thus far she hadn't made any commentary on her findings, with their very short trip and trying to get rid of the mud around her. Still, he was sure there was a good reason for her not to have been with Mordred when he retrieved and and returning with two score of Jin'ha warriors running behind her. That she had found something was the only good explanation — nobody would have wasted that many fighters unless it was an information they were actively trying to hide.
Nimueh bowed to the Council as little was would be acceptable, before starting to speak.
"I did some investigating while we were there."
"Our orders were not clear enough? We said nothing of investigating," bristled Master Ruadan, but she merely ignored him; as did the rest of those present. The battlemaster of the Jedi Order could be a pain at times.
"And I found that the Jin'ha are running an operation in Paqwepor Major," which, of course, was no news to Da'n'yy after being their guest for a fortnight. "I believe the Paqwes are at least partially aware of its nature, but I didn't see any round the mining station. They have found there enough metal to expand from merely having Cortosi armours to constructing full on Cortosi droids — armed with Cortosi blades."
"Intriguing," Master Grettir said, almost disappearing in the large seat. "We heard no hint of this through our channels."
"I don't think Master Aglain and Da'n'yy were the first to fall into their web," Nimueh continued, "From what I've heard there, they have become quite good at neutralising anyone who may have questions about it. More worrying than that, they are not creating such droids for themselves — they have signed a contract for those."
"Producing cortosis armed droids under demand — whomever ordered it, money certainly isn't a problem for them — shouldn't be hard to find out who it was; there aren't many who have that kind of credit;" Master Peter smiled at his old padawan. "Worry not, Nimueh."
"I'm not worried," her smile was both feral and graceful, thoroughly magnetic, as she looked at her old master. "I know who ordered them."
"Do tell," Da'n'yy asked her, with a smile of his own, and she acknowledge him with a gesture of her head before continuing.
"The request was put in by the Trade Federation," she completed.
"Most worrisome," added Master Aglain, his lower-facial tentacles turning inwards. "What could they mean by it?"
"My good friend, isn't it obvious?" Master Ruadan's voice was booming. "They're embargoing a planet with a rich history in military, and neither Camelot nor the rest of Albion is the sort to go down quietly. They're preparing themselves for harsher action."
"They wouldn't," Master An-hor-ra seemed shocked at the very idea. Typical consular behaviour, if anyone asked Da'n'yy, it was as if they forgot that conversations and negotiations weren't everyone's preferred method of dealing with problems.
"They will," disagreed Master Meer-Dieth, her eyes going distant as it happened when she gazed into the Cosmic Force. "They will — and their armies shall overrun us all, sink the galaxy into chaos, harvest our younglings as food for their bloodless bodies, commanded by a shadow that will drown us all…"
"Master Meer-Dieth," Master Taliesin's voice was calm as he reached for his once padawan. "Do not lose yourself."
She blinked, facing Master Nimueh as if they were in the same chamber, and not uncountable parsecs apart.
"You must go to them before they come to you."
"Meer-Dieth!" Taliesin called once more, and the youngest master in the room seemed to return to her senses.
"I'm awfully sorry, masters."
"It is a troubling vision," Deaton continued, unsure as usual when it came to such things. Deaton was a man of science, as few could be when so thoroughly linked to the Force, and everything related to visions and prophecies discomfited him. "But I fear there may be some truth in it; it may well be that the Trade Federation is willing to go further than we thought in the pursuit of its… rights."
Da'n'yy wanted to argue that calling taxes "rights" was going too far, but before he could say anything, Master Kilgharrah moved his wings but slightly, and yet it was enough to call all of their attention.
"It seems clear that trusting blindingly on diplomacy may lead us all into further trouble," his voice seemed to echo through the stars until it reached them. "The Jedi we sent may not be fully equipped to deal with this crisis."
"I volunteer to see this through," Da'n'yy said, and Master Aglain turned to him, disapproving.
"This is foolish — you'll need more than some bacta plasters to recover from the injuries…"
"I am perfectly capable of seeing it through," he disagreed; looking over to Master Kilgharrah, who smiled.
"I'm always glad to see your eagerness, young Da'n'yy," he said, but there was something feral on his grin. "But you've heard the seer — Nimueh is the one who must go to Camelot."
"Me?" Nimueh asked, looking offended at the suggestion; which was understandable in the situation as far as Da'n'yy was concerned. "I haven't — I'm not even allowed into Albion Sector…"
"Not true," disagreed Master Peter, raising an eyebrow. "Senator Pendragon may have forbidden your presence while he ruled, but there has been a new king in Camelot for a few years now — Ygraine's son holds the throne."
The anzati wondered if the council could feel her distress even from afar. Somehow, he didn't doubt they could, only that they cared. Distress, in a Jedi, was something to be dealt with and undone, not something to avoid.
"It wouldn't be wise…" she started, but Master Kilgharrah's claws moved, dismissing the notion.
"It is a path you have yet to thread, in your penance," he informed, seeming incongruously pleased with it. "Go, Nimueh, and clear the darkness around this matter. It is only fitting — life is but a circular cycle. There you strayed, there you shall fully return to your path."
There was nothing she could do but bow and accept it. Da'n'yy wondered what he would do in her place, and how much of it her newest padawan was privy to — Mordred looked puzzled at the exchange, but surely he had heard some of the rumours that surrounded his master — and he almost miss the end of the conversation.
"What consulars have been assigned to keep the peace talks?" Aglain asked, while he was distracted.
"Senator Pendragon requested that Master Gaius handle the matter and he was already close by — we saw no reason to deny his request. He'll arrive at the Bannistar Station in a couple of hours," explained Master Deaton, "you and your padawan may meet them directly there."
The knight couldn't see any single muscle moving on Nimueh's face, but her disbelief was so intense that he could hear her thoughts as loud as if she had yelled at the council.
You've got to be kidding me.
Da'n'yy thought it was useless to remind her that most of the Jedi Council didn't have any sense of humour to joke like that.
