Hello again readers, Tarrus here.
Firstly a big thankyou to Kaffinee for your continuing help with my english. It is greatly appreciated.
Thankyou to all who take the time to review, your comments/ideas have altered the storyline several times already and helped me fix mistakes. Please continue to do so.
The most obvious impact you've had is to advance the speed with which we get to the events of the movies.
To those who flame, I can't do much to improve if all you tell me is that you don't like what you have read.
Apologies for the long wait between chapters, I try to write at least a few thousands words a week minimum but even then I struggle so I ask that you bear with me.
Enough from me, please enjoy.
Stirring the Pot Chapter 4
Memory
2025 - Earth, Prague Castle-Czech Republic
The man on stage was not what Harry had expected. He was a short, balding man who kept fidgeting with his hands even as he addressed the assembled crowd of masked witches and wizards that Harry was also within. His voice, even aided by a Sonorous, was not one he would describe as belonging to a man of stature in any grouping. He occupied a simple stage, bare of anything but a long wooden box and a sheet-covered object behind him. Despite his apparent lack of discernible authority, here, in this 'conference', everybody listened with rapt attention.
"My lords, ladies, distinguished guests, fellow travellers of the Path. I have gathered you here today to discuss the advancement of our particular brand of magic, so foolishly shunned by our society."
Murmurs from the crowd, overwhelmingly in agreement, made Harry fight the urge to start casting, he was here to gather intelligence for the ICW, not to start a fight. The speaker upon the stage cleared his throat and continued:
"As many of you know, I have dedicated a number of years to the study of alchemy, particularly its applications towards empowering those guardians so many of us use - and which I have supplied so many of to you. I am of course, referring to the creation and utilisation of inferi. It is with great pleasure that I can reveal to you the driving force behind my studies. Please accord him all the respect due to his achievements. However, I will first point out that he is sitting within a negation matrix, so to the more bold of you, don't try anything."
Stepping back, the man grasped the sheet and pulled, revealing a simple-straight backed wooden chair that held a hunched figure chained into a seated position. The speaker reached under the figure's chin and lifted it so that the extremely well-known face, bruised and bloodied that it was, caught the light from the chandelier above.
"My friends, allow me to present Nicholas Flamel."
Harry clamped his hands on the sides of his own chair to resist the urge to leap up and attack as the stunned silence broke into a standing ovation. The speaker bowed to the audience and let go of Flamel's chin, allowing his head to drop back to his chest. The audience eventually subsided and retook their seats. Moving to the long box, the speaker continued:
"Mister Flamel has been instrumental in the assistance that he has rendered me into completing this project. Whilst I regrettably have not yet been able to create a philosopher's stone of my own, with his guidance, I have forged a catalyst that will usher in a new level of security, strength, and power for us devotees of the Path."
The sigh of disappointment from the audience turned back into keen interest as the speaker aimed his wand down at the box and with it started tracing lazy circles in the air as he recommenced speaking:
"The main flaw of the inferi has always been that they are puppets, only capable of the most basic levels of autonomy and constantly requiring direction to maximise their potential. Secondary to this is their aversion to fire and propensity to degrade over time. I theorised that this was due to the relatively simple death magic that maintains them. Thus, I wondered - - what if a stable source of magic, one inherently tied to the maintaining of life, was used to counterbalance that of the death magic that powers them yet also erodes them? The result, my friends, I show to you now. Allow me to present the first of a new type of inferius, the Husk, which you will no doubt recognise as the late Perenelle Flamel."
With a flourish of his wand, the crates lid slid free from its resting place. With a jerk, a greyed hand with long, uneven fingernails grasped the side, which promptly splintered. Harry could only stare as the, thing- - once one of the most respected women in the magical world - - rose from the crate. Eyes sunken and black against the heavily scarred tissue that surrounded its face, tiny pinpricks of red light shone from fresh lacerations along its exposed arms. Nicholas Flamel, Harry saw, was also staring, eyes open despite the bruising and weeping. Throughout this, the speaker continued:
"You will note that it possesses the same strength and indifference to pain as that of a regular inferius, something I am endeavouring to improve upon with my efforts regarding to the stone. Thus far, in the three years since its imbuement, the Husk has demonstrated no decay, no aversion to fire, a resistance to direct magic such as curses and hexes-of which I have demonstrated by using the Lacero curse upon its arms-beyond its less sophisticated counterparts, and even a rudimentary regenerative ability, indicated by the red glow It has also demonstrated a remarkable capacity toward operating faithfully under orders at considerable distance from the controller, under both direct control and without supervision. I would note however that while its behaviour is pleasingly single-minded in the pursuit of its orders, it will cease to function upon their completion. Those of you from Hungary will remember the circumstances of the slaughtered village last June."
The Husk, stood there, oblivious to anything and everything. Flamel had shut his eyes and his mouth was moving, repeating something to himself. The speaker continued, the audience hanging on to his every word, several where even taking notes Harry fumbled for his emergency beacon, he needed to do something, and he needed backup. Now. Just as he pressed down on the coin that housed the beacon, the speaker paused and looked across the audience. His eyes met Harry's, and he smiled.
"Before I continue onto the bidding, I have just realised that I have been remiss in welcoming a singularly distinguished guest."
The speaker swept his arm and wand up, pointing directly at Harry as he raised the deathstick in return. his pale knuckled hand aiming the elder wand directly between the speakers eyes. Confused rumblings from the audience filled the space as thuds from blocked apparitions could be heard from outside the walls.
"Welcome to this conference of the Path of Death. I am so pleased that you could make it, Harry Potter, lead ICW hit wizard - - and more importantly, Master of Death."
Proof of Magic
Kashyyk, Sheowtulla's village
Harry was angry. No, not angry- he had passed angry the moment he had realised just what he was staring at. Somehow, the followers of the Path had survived. He had thought they'd been annihilated; he had personally seen to it that every scrap of research he could lay his hands on had met with a fiery demise, along with anyone who had used it. Harry slowly raised both of his hands and thrust them forward. Rage crawled from behind his mind shields and found freedom in the bellowed spell:
"REDUCTO!"
The husk, mid charge, took the spell to the chest and promptly exploded. Bone, blood and metal rained down around Harry and tumbled to the forest floor. The concussive wave shook the platform and Harry swayed as the supports struggled to cope. Harry stood there and waited out the swaying. Wookies were shouting at him from the surrounding platforms, clearly distressed at the damage he may have done. But Harry only had eyes for the smoking lower torso across from him, willing himself to be wrong, even as his eyes told him otherwise.
Harry could see the stone, lodged in what was left of the Husk's body. Its red glow flaring as bone and flesh grew around it. How had the knowledge survived? Who was able to even use it since magic faded? These questions burned at Harry's mind even as the half-grown grotesque monster started to claw its way towards him again. Harry watched as the husk repaired itself. This was different to those he had destroyed so long ago; its regenerative ability was far more advanced, as was its durability. Harry frowned. He could feel the souls streaming back into the ether, and the resurrection stone on his finger was resonating against the screams in his mind, too fast for him to identify individuals. That shouldn't be possible; only he had the capacity to manipulate souls directly. The stone pulsed, and the souls stopped coming.
Swiping a hand up and across, even as the Husk's head took form from bubbling tissue, Harry began his onslaught. The platform trembled as wooden hands grasped from below, and the air shivered as Harry conjured a block of granite upon its head. The husk was torn, crushed and ripped as Harry sought the stone that powered it. For five minutes, Harry repeated the process, pulverising anything that formed. For five minutes, the Wookies and a semi-conscious Jaina watched as Harry made bloody soup out of the thing that had come crashing through the trees. For five minutes, Yoda's droid recorded the whole event and sent it on to the temple, and for five minutes, souls screamed in Harry's mind as he sought to free them and end the abomination before him.
Finally, it stopped reforming. With one last shudder, the last remnant-a partially formed arm-fell limp into the pool of blood that dripped over the platform's edge. One last whimper in his mind bore the passing of the soul of a child. Harry strode forward, and with a flick of his wrist and a thin beam of light, he tore the arm in half. Reaching down, Harry plucked the stone, now a dark black with cracks running throughout it, from the wreckage. It still glowed, feeble wisps of red leaking from the cracks. Clenching his fist, the stone shattered, and he hurled the fragments over the edge. Harry took a deep breath and looked to the sky whilst the blood and bone beneath his feet turned to ash. Trying to find a trace of the entity that had assailed his mind before.
Somewhere out there, someone had used a form of Magic- Magic that Harry had personally tried to eradicate from history and somehow had dragged the deceased back across the threshold of death. Looking down at the rapidly disappearing remains, Harry wondered. Just what else may have survived the passing of time, and who else out there was able to use it? Turning to his silent audience, Harry's eyes sought out the wide eyes of Jaina. A small trickle of dried blood had drifted down across her face and her eyes held an emotion Harry was all too familiar with: fear. Dismissing these thoughts, Harry began summoning the destroyed droids. Harry had a witch or wizard to locate. He had questions for this follower of the path. He was sure of one thing, he wouldn't be finding them on this planet, and he would need all the eyes and ears he could muster if he was to search the stars.
Chasing Shadows
Yoda watched as the republic security forces docked on the drifting slave ship. He knew it was devoid of life even without looking at the sensor readouts that indicated the atmosphere had been vented. Whoever had sent them in the first place was still one step ahead of him. To be able to intercept and silence an entire vessel of trandoshans without any evidence of a space battle was worrying and indicated influence beyond what he would expect from any power outside of the Jedi themselves.
That was not the only problem. Yoda had left Kashyyk on the understanding that a suitable Jedi escort had been dispatched to escort the anomaly, Harry, to the temple on Coruscant. His last communication from the temple had indeed been an affirmation of his request, but rather than acknowledging his original request, they had instead affirmed the cancellation of said order. Yoda needed to get back to the temple and start investigating, return to Kashyyk and ensure that Harry did not fall into the wrong hands, assign someone to the growing rumblings from the banking clans, keep a watch over the upcoming senate elections, and so many other things.
Breaking from his reverie, Yoda turned his attention to the incoming feeds from the security teams. The holo displays all held similar images. Dead trandoshans, in varying states of dismemberment many with injuries that only a lightsaber could have inflicted. In the zero gravity, the corpses were drifting. Some of the security force had thrown up at the site- not a pleasant prospect, considering the enviro suits they were wearing and the images being sent back were disquieting enough without the audio.
Turning from the displays, there was at least something he could do now in this shadow game. Yoda made his way to the communication array, in-putted the code for the temple, inserted his communicator and engaged its highest encryption. Two people had access to this code, and only one of them was in residence at the temple.
The blue projector flickered as Yoda established contact. A dark skinned, bald human in robes appeared, seated in a deep chair.
"Master Yoda, I was not expecting you to contact me, much less on the emergency code."
Yoda inclined his head in greeting and responded:
"Master Windu, grave news I bring you. Compromised our communications is, trust normal channels I do not. Ask you to investigate, I do."
Windu leant forward, concern now prominent across his face and delivered a rapid series of questions:
"Compromised? Do you know how? Does this have anything to do with the disturbances on Kashyyk? Of which everyone is expecting an update on."
Shaking his head, Yoda thought about the events of the last few days. Everything pointed to an outside force. The anomaly, Harry, he was sure, did not possess the means, or even the understanding, to do such a thing. It would serve nothing to direct any investigation there. He would pass his thoughts on to the council on his return. That would give him more time:
"Presence of dark Jedi on Kashyyk, there was. Forced to flee, he was. Anomaly contained to planet, investigating still, I am. Last communication to temple intercepted, orders changed, they were. Request investigation, I do, covert it must be."
Windu leant back on his chair and adjusted his robes.
"I will begin immediately. Master Plo Koon can take over the sabre training of the younglings for a few days. I expect you will send me the transmission logs?"
Yoda nodded his agreement, and ended the transmission with a sincere,
"May the force be with you."
To which Windu returned with the traditional,
"And also with you."
As the holodisplay flickered out, Yoda activated his hover chair and sat onto it as it rose from the floor. The bodies were being transported over from the dead ship, he would learn what he could. Then he would go back to Kashyyk. Apprehension swirled in Yoda's mind at the thought of returning to Kashyyk, his normal feelings of affection for the planet having been displaced by a growing sense of unease. He was sure whatever Harry had been up to would only cause more problems that would be difficult to keep from the attention of the greater galaxy, even with the blanket holo news ban he'd instructed the Wookies to implement still in effect.
Mr. Fixit
Jaina contemplated making a run for it. Her 'charge', Harry, was talking to Yoda's droid again, and Sheowtulla and the rest of the Wookies were trying to fix the damaged speeders. She had to get back and report to command; the droid had refused to give her access to its communicator. The village relay had been destroyed by the droids. She needed help- preferably jedi help- though she would settle for the security teams at headquarters. Fortunately, some of the villagers were currently keeping an eye on Harry. Their blasters were off, but not holstered. They at least would, hopefully, be able to stun him if he tried to leave whilst she sought help from the next village. Shaking her head, Jaina turned her attention to the pile where Harry had deposited the droids. With any luck, one of them may have an intact memory bank with evidence to back up a story that was going to sound like she was on spice.
Sheowtulla was both thankful to and scared of Harry. The powers which Harry had used to dispose of the creature had frightened him and the whole village: causing dead wood to grow hands, blasting something apart with a single hand gesture, and calmly using a rock that hadn't existed previously to bludgeon something into a paste. Those powers had rattled them all and sparked Sheowtulla's own curiosity at the same time. Sheowtulla had convinced the village chief to host the little group after relaying the events at the capitol. He had thought himself further justified in offering Harry sanctuary after he had seen Harry crush a droid's faceplate with his bare hands, just like a Wookie. Sheowtulla would willingly admit that the creature, unlike anything Sheowtulla had ever seen before, much less hunted, had spooked him. But what really had him concerned was the rage with which Harry had blasted the thing apart with. Sheowtulla owed Harry; he would try and help him, and with any luck, he would get to see more of whatever it was that Harry could do. Taking a hydro-spanner from his father, Shoewtulla turned back to the wreck of a speeder before him. One thing was for certain: Harry was no Jedi.
Harry, oblivious to the scrutiny, was focused on the droid and was trying to come to grips with the language. So far he'd managed to say hello, my name is, and the words for ship, fly, money, food, toilet and passage. He needed to get back to the capitol, and then up into space. From there, he'd try and reacquire the trace of the entity that had attacked him. It was unfortunate, but he would not be able to search this planet for anything that may have survived until this was taken care of. Giving up on learning any more, Harry turned from the droid and surveyed the wrecked transports. Himself, the droid, Sheowtulla and Jaina- he needed capacity for four. Aware of the two rather large Wookies standing not far away from him and cradling an equally intimidating gun each, Harry slowly raised his hand towards the pile of wreckage. He stopped when the Wookies promptly levelled their guns at him. He then lowered his hand far more slowly than when he had raised it in response to the rather large blade poking him in the back. Careful not to make any sudden movements, Harry tilted his head back and looked behind him. Sheowtulla's mother was towering above him, and in her hand was the blade he had last seen sheering through metal. In a level voice, Harry called the droid over and asked it to translate.
"I am going to try and fix the transports. Please assure her and the others that I mean no harm."
The droid relayed the message, and after some intense staring, she took the blade away and growled back at the droid. The droid made an affirmative noise and turned back to him:
"She warns you not to try anything, and that if you cause any more damage, she will rip your head of with her bare hands."
Sheowtulla's mother growled at the repair crews and they promptly moved away without hesitation. The droid dutifully translated to Harry.
"She has told them you're about to use your power to fix the vehicles. She has also told them that she has you covered if anything goes wrong."
Harry sighed at the last part before looking back at his custodian, who nodded at him. Slowly, and with as much control as Harry could manage, he willed the damage to be undone. Gently, the largest pieces of wreckage drifted into the air and glowed a pale green. Scorch marks and small rips in the metal disappeared as the glow intensified. Expanding his area of focus and increasing the power behind the spell, the rest of the wreckage also drifted up into the air. Green light shone through the pieces and vanished as the debris began to swirl in a lazy spiral, pieces slotting back into place and rejoining. A grey Wookie dropped his cutting torch, eyes wide in amazement as a piece of metal the size of his head uncrumpled, flew through the air, and gently socketed itself into the front of the speeder he had been trying to salvage. The light intensified as wiring pulled itself through holes and fused back together as ripped edges smoothed themselves out. One by one the glow subsided as Harry gently laid the vehicles to rest. Looking over the faces now turned toward him, Harry became aware that he was receiving something he disliked almost as much as fear: awe. The spell was, to Harry's relief, promptly broken when Sheowtulla's mother dumped a pile of broken electronics at his feet. This signalled the start of a stampede as everything broken in the village was laid infront of him. Wistfully eyeing the repaired transports, Harry got on with his new task.
Advancing Schedule
Senator Sheev Palpatine bowed low to the new Queen, a friendly smile plastered on his face. Protocol demanded nothing less and whilst he would prefer a rather different set of actions, the persona was still valuable. The young teenaged Amidala had just seen fit to inform him that he was being retained as senator. Straightening and biting back a new wave of frustration, he sought to finish today's façade:
"Thank you, your Majesty, for this opportunity to continue to serve the people of Naboo. I again request leave to travel to Coruscant; things are well in hand here."
Much to his consternation, the security chief, Panaka, lent down and whispered something in the child's ear. His ship was already prepared for take-off and the contingency had been enacted. All that was left was to get off the planet. Action was required now, patience was for the long game, not the ending moments of the last. Finally, Panaka stopped his whispering and went back to his position. The child then addressed him:
"Senator, I agree with the need for you to return to Coruscant. But first, I would like to discuss the Gungan situation with you."
Palpatine nearly growled at this new annoyance. If he could have his way, he would leave the planet's natives to their own devices, they posed no threat, even to Naboo's pathetic limited military. Much less to the plans he had for his home planet, indeed they may be essential precisely as they were.
"Your Highness, we discussed this before your inauguration. The Gungans are a primitive species; they make their living in the swamps, not interacting at all with our government. As such, I counsel patience until they seek to initiate diplomacy."
The child seemed reassured by that, if the gesture to leave was any indication. Palpatine took the opportunity, departing with as much speed as decorum allowed. He still had time to make it back to Coruscant for the new round of elections, even with his planned detour. Finally, he could start the opening acts of his ascendancy, at least after the closing act of his own apprenticeship and servitude.
Reaching the hangar, a pleasing thought occurred to him. If the Jedi stayed true to their usual ineffective methods, he might even have time to acquire the being from Kashyyk, this Harry Potter. After all, things that could not apparently be killed could still be contained until a means of disposal could be found.
Flying Lesson
Jaina was proving to be a font of information for Harry. He had tried to get Sheowtulla to show him how to operate the speeder he was currently sitting on. Unfortunately, even with the droid's help, it was proving difficult. Jaina had come to the rescue with hand gestures. The toggle on the right meant forward, so accelerate, the protruding bars on the handles meant back or stop, so brakes and so on the lesson went. Once she had shown him the off switch, Harry lost interest in the lesson. Rubbing his hands together, Harry took hold of the handles and turned what he thought was the on knob. He promptly froze when the speeder came to life under him and rose into the air. Jaina must have seen the grin that came over his face as she started shaking her head at him and yelling. Harry did not need the droid to translate that she was telling him to stop. It also did not stop him from hitting the accelerator. With a roar of the engine and laughter, Harry shot of between the trees.
Swearing in Basic, Huttese and even some Wookie, Jaina vaulted the next speeder, yelled at the Wookies to make way, gunned the engine and gave chase.
Harry had very nearly forgotten what it felt like to fly, to have nothing beneath him but air. The freedom, the joy, it all came back to him. This was his element, trees blurred past him as he continued to accelerate. He dove under branches, swerved around trees and let himself get lost in the feeling, the world turning into a green and brown blur. A large tree was directly in front of him and above there was a gap in the canopy. His grin widened as he put more pressure on the accelerator and hurtled towards it. Yanking back the handles, he entered a steep climb brushing the trunk of the tree, aiming for the canopy. He wanted to see the sky, maybe even fly in a cloud. Grin still firmly in place, Harry broke through the canopy.
Jaina was skirting the top of the trees. The speeder was starting to struggle with the altitude. The only reason it was able to reach this height was that it had been adapted by the Wookies and the canopy was currently thick enough. Repulsor vehicles required something to repulse against, after all, to achieve lift. Harry was travelling at speed, if her pinger-another Wookie addition to prevent getting lost in the forest-was accurate. It was getting louder as she closed in on him. Once she found him and got him back to the village, she would get Sheowtulla to sit on him whilst they travelled back to the capitol. Enough time must have passed by now for Yoda to at least be on his way back, if not for the official escort to have arrived. She could hear the speeder now, slightly to her right. Adjusting her direction, her eyes widened as Harry burst through the canopy less than two metres in front of her. He was travelling straight up. Jaina's eyes widened more as she realised what he was trying to do. Swerving the speeder, around she completed the turn, the rear of her speeder dipping dangerously low into he foliage beneath her. Jaina stabilised and looked up just as Harry's speeder peaked. The confusion on Harry's face was the last thing she saw before he started to descend.
Sheowtulla was surprised that Harry and Jaina had returned a good hour after Harry's flight. They had coasted slowly back to the landing pad. Jaina had tied the two speeders together and led the way back. Sheowtulla had expected Harry to crash straight after take-off. Though the limp Harry was trying to hide and the dirt smeared across his face, coupled with the disgruntled expression on Jaina's face and the way she was holding her arm, indicated that some sort of accident had happened. Resolving to ask what had happened after Jaina had her arm looked at, Sheowtulla finished stowing the droid on the transport and moved over to them. Yoda had sent through a personal message that they were to return to the capitol.
Decisions
It was with a difficult application of discipline that prevented Yoda from applying a mind trick as Commander Chertin regaled him with a veritable flood of platitudes mixed with apologies. Truly the man had a gift for inducing headaches, and not simply due to his ineptitude. Chertin had been talking non-stop the whole way from the landing platform, where the unloading of the trandoashan remains was still taking place, to the Republic Security Office were Yoda was now reviewing the security logs. Out of politeness rather than interest, Yoda briefly tuned back into Chertins diatribe:
"I want to further point out that all matters of force use are not in my jurisdiction, and under the circumstances wish to make you aware that I did everything in my power to prevent the subjects' exit. Furthermore, whilst I have the greatest of admiration and respect for your exalted position, I have no choice but to register a formal complaint as to the absence of sufficient resources at my disposal. Not that I am indicating any such fault on your part though..."
Shaking his head, at least internally, Yoda studied the captured footage. No simple illusion could fool the sensors in such a detailed manner, and there was no evidence of the recording having been tampered with. The gap in the Commander's memory, his waking up in a chair to find a transport missing, and all the apparent physical changes to the Commanders face –now missing- told a compelling story. One backed up by the near tangible threads of force that haloed Chertin's head. Harry, it seemed possessed, power beyond anything but the most revered, or loathed, of force users had ever come close to achieving. Turning to address the Commander directly, Yoda outlined his orders, lacing his words with a touch of the force, simply in order to speed Chertin on his way and in no way intended to make sure he was heard over Chertin's continuing appeals:
"Harry Potter, arriving within the hour, he will be. Arrange a security escort, you will. Disturb me until the party arrives, you will not."
As Chertin scurried off, Yoda turned back to the screens. Abilities such as these were very close to approaching the realms of myth, and if the wielder of these was not a grown man, perhaps prophecy. There were four options that came to Yoda's mind. Incorporate Harry Potter into the Jedi- - difficult, but from his aid to the Wookies, perhaps not impossible. Refrain from risking the potential catastrophe of someone with so much power remaining unchecked - again this would prove difficult, but it would not be an insurmountable task; it had already been proven that he could be rendered unconscious. Make him known to the senate directly and allow them input- this was the most unpredictable option, and with the breaches in Jedi security, not a pleasing prospect. Finally, Yoda could attempt to extend a first contact program- no doubt already underway, if his droid's reports were true, and he was hesitant to act in an aggressive manner.
Yoda was broken from his contemplations as his droid sent a position update to his communicator, quickly followed by an encrypted message from the temple relayed from his ship. Listening to the message, Yoda turned to the holo display. Yoda again watched as Harry altered Chertin's face, then as an obvious response to Officer Jaina's distress, Harry waved his hand over the alterations as if they had been made with oil, they rippled and vanished. If anything was obvious in this moment, Harry Potter must be kept away from unsavoury interests, and if the Jedi had the ability to ensure this, that was not a question Yoda felt comfortable answering.
Breach
Sheev Palpatine assumed his black robes and the mantle of Darth Sidous as his heavily modified Scimitar, reclassified as the Sith infiltrator, exited hyperspace. Sidous could immediately tell that his timing could not have been better; the miasma that normally eclipsed his senses around the gently idling space station before him was a fraction of its normal strength. The force, it seemed, was with him. Fingers dancing over the flight console, Sidous engaged the activation sequence to the five cargo ships that had been idling at the outermost sensor range. Almost immediately after the transmission was sent, the station came to life. Active scanners swept the area, his flight computer sending unnecessary alarms as they identified his presence. He could see the formidable laser batteries, turning towards him as the station rotated, no doubt powering up as they were attended to by utility droids. It was with deep satisfaction that he watched the first of the cargo ships reappear from its forced emergency micro jump directly between his ship and the station just as the batteries opened fire.
Carefully manoeuvring his craft so as not to engage the close-range targeting protocols, Sidous watched as the other four ships reappeared around the station and gunned their engines on a collision course. Closely following the ship to his left, Sidous flared his own engines and lined up a run on the hangar, just as the cargo ships made contact. The reactive pane that screened the cockpit dimmed as the flares erupted from the contact points. Corona's, of blue and yellow flame, continued to be expelled into space as the cargo ships unloaded their contents. Idly, Sidous noted that the laser battery had stopped firing and that the station was no longer rotating in order to track him. Hangar in site, Sidous fired the single ion torpedo from the ship's belly and watched as it sailed straight into the hangar's shielding apparatus. Obeying the urge to act, he activated his boosters even as the shield died and the blast door began to close. With seconds to spare, his ship made it into the hangar, sparks screeching as it slid to a stop.
Wasting no time, Sidous unclipped his lightsaber and popped the cockpit, vaulting over the side igniting his saber as he went. With surprise, Sidous noted the hangar was virtually empty. A single transport ship lay at rest to the rear of the hangar. He had expected security droids, or perhaps even some of his master's failed experiments to meet him. However, nothing but bare metal and the distant sound of alarms and explosions reached him. Even his force sense registered nothing- it was as if his master had sucked everything into himself and hidden. A smile broke across his face. If his master was hiding, then he was vulnerable. Leaping into the air, Sidous brought his saber down upon the reinforced door he knew would take him on the most direct path to the master's sanctum, or more precisely the non-reinforced wall next to it.
Nothing, still nothing. Sidous had been cautiously making his way along the corridors and had not come across a single droid. His footsteps were nearly painfully loud as they echoed on the bare metal floors. The collisions of the cargo ships had taken out the primary shield array and the communications tower and inserted a sizable force of his own battle droids, gratefully provided by the trade federation for a trifling business deal, and of course altered to better suit his needs. The explosions and alarms had stopped. His droids would be sweeping the lower decks, eliminating the hunter droids in storage and delivering his countermeasure to his master's playthings simultaneously. He had to be the one to kill his master if he was to ascend as master. Resisting the urge to look up at the sensors that were no doubt following his every move, Sidous kept moving.
Sidous resisted the creeping paranoia as he continued down the labyrinth of corridors. He knew the purpose of this maze, how it was meant to aid his master's ability to induce both anxiety and uncertainty. Idly. he ran a hand up the side of his torso, feeling the reassuring shape of the package he was carrying as it rested over flesh that had not so long ago been rendered to the bone. A left turn, another left, past the primary generator room and through his old saber training room. The uniform grey of the corridors and rooms, broken up only by whatever apparatus they housed, finally gave way to a set of large black and dark red doors, directly taken from the temples of Korriban along with the two unlit braziers. Pausing, Sidous braced himself to pay the toll and took out a short blade from its sheath on his waist. The time of Darth Plagueis would end today.