Chapter 9

Leviathan

Nightfall hung above the world in high orbit, flanked on all side by the Sith armada. This was the last world in the small system they had annexed from the Republic. Koridan was highly disapproving of the fact that this system was of no valuable. No resources of any kind, and very little population to speak of. In fact, the only inhabitants were below them, cowering in their scraps of houses as his armada loomed over them.

It had no resources, but he supposed it would make a good location for an outpost. Koridan spun on his heel, beckoning an officer over. "Have landing ships prepared and a battalion of battle droids. I want this world secured before we move on."

The officer nodded quickly and hurried off to do his lord's bidding. Koridan almost smiled at the terror he felt from the young man. He was clearly fresh from the academy, and unused to serving the Empire in the presence of a Sith Lord.

Koridan relished in that fear, savoring it as he turned back to the viewport. His expression became a glare as he surveyed the world in front of them.

The clack of metal against metal reached his ears and he whirled to face the tactical droid that served as an aide, a lieutenant. Koridan clasped his hands behind his back and stood straight and tall. "Report."

"My lord, a shuttle is approaching. It has requested permission to board."

Koridan wanted to sigh. Why was the droid bothering him with something so trivial? The Force gave him an answer. Kuul Merack. The new assassin had no doubt come even quicker than he had anticipated. A sneer curled his lips. Merack no doubt hoped to impress his new master with his speedy arrival. It had worked, to an extent, but if the reports of his skill were exaggerated, he would meet the same fate as Kornath even quicker than the Sith pureblood himself had. "Kuul Merack is authorized to board. Inform him that he is to report to the bridge as soon as he docks."

"Yes, my lord." The droid bowed out of programmed respect and walked off, its mechanical joints whirring and clicking as it went.

Koridan faced the windows and waited. He took in the whir of droid circuits as they moved about the bridge, the occasional irritated muttering from an officer as they attempted to carry out shipboard duties with the idiotic droids. The Sith Lord couldn't help but sympathize, if only for a moment.

The door hissed open. A cold chill seemed to sweep the bridge, affecting all but the most seasoned of officers. And Koridan himself. He waited, listening closely to the thunk of the new arrival's boots as he approached. A cold smile touched his lips. "Kuul Merack."

"My lord." The assassin said, dropping to one knee. "I await your orders."

Koridan turned slowly, hands clasped regally behind his back and surveyed the Assassin. He wore a black cloak that covered his face. He had the slim build of a human, with the pale skin and yellow eyes common to Sith. The lightsaber on his belt was of simple designs, clearly designed to be functional rather than aesthetic. "In my fleet, speed is paramount. You will complete your assignments sooner than the given time limits. You will complete them to perfection. Error will not be tolerated. Failure is not accepted. Do you understand this, Assassin?"

Kuul Merack nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Then you will go at once to Senior Commander Signus Varyn. His fleet has been assigned to Endor on an assignment critical to the Empire."

"If it please, I would like to know the details of the assignment?" Merack did not dare meet his master's gaze.

Koridan considered the request. It would do no harm. If anything, Merack would find out when Varyn let him aboard his ship. Koridan reached out in the Force, opening himself to the mass of sound waves bouncing across the bridge. He visualized a bubble around himself and Merack. Sound waves from the outside could pass through, allowing Koridan and Merack to hear the random chatter of officers and droids, but not allowing words or sounds from the two Sith to reach those officers or droids. A snap of Koridan's fingers sent this bubble into existence.

What Merack was about to hear was not for their ears. They were mere officers. Servants of the Sith. They were unworthy of the secrets of the Dark Side.

"The Sith have built a powerful weapon. Varyn's orders are to test it on the Republic world of Endor." Koridan's voice was low and menacing, showing little of the concentration required to project the bubbles. "Endor is the primary source of Republic weapons development and research. If we secure the system, they lose a significant amount of scientists and other great minds. It will also serve as a staging ground from which to launch the second part of our campaign."

"Our campaign?" Merack leaned forward, licking his lips in anticipation.

"My campaign," Koridan corrected. Merack's anticipation did not waver. "Varyn will secure Endor, then continue south along the border, separating the Republic from allies such as Hapes or Eridau. This will divide the Republic's forces, enabling Commander T'Ransen to launch his attack on the Corporate Sector. With two fronts suddenly active, both vital to the safety of the Republic, I fully expect the Admirals and the Jedi," the name was spat with such scorn that Merack almost recoiled, "And the Jedi to divert their attention to combat these threats."

Merack grinned, but held his tongue.

"They will leave Earth vulnerable. And then we will strike."

"My lord, I humbly request that I may be assigned to the strike at Earth." The Assassin bowed his head as though suddenly worried he had overstepped his bounds.

Koridan merely laughed. "All in due time, Assassin. Complete your assignment at Endor, and then it shall be considered."

"What exactly is my assignment?"

"To observe and report both the success of the new weapon and Commander Varyn's handling of it."

Merack nodded hastily. "It will be done, my lord."

"Go." Koridan pointed to the massive set of double doors that marked the entrance to the bridge. "You are dismissed, Assassin."

Merack stood, gave a curt bow, then turned on his heel and strode away. Once he was gone, Koridan effortlessly dissipated the bubble he had been projecting. A faint flicker in the air, and it winked out of existence as though it had never been there at all.

But it had been there. Several officers were trying not to catch the Sith Lord's attention, determined to carry out their tasks with even more vigor than usual. Koridan probed them with the Force, touching their minds, their recent memories. They had noticed him and Merack speaking, but heard nothing of course. They had been confused, and guessed that some important classified workings of the Sith were at play, and decided to not investigate. Clearly, their lives were more valuable than a question that would immediately call for their dismissal, or worse, their execution.

Their confusion would be nothing compared to the Republic's reaction when they found out what and how Endor would meet its gruesome fate. Now that would be a sight to behold. It was a pity he wouldn't be there to see it. It was close to the time that his personal task force would separate from the bulk of the Armada. Two thousand ships would separate from a force of nearly forty thousand vessels and set a course to Earth. The rest of the fleet would head to the Corporate Sector, where they would cripple the Republic's economy in a swift and decisive campaign.

They would have to hurry. Koridan's spies had already picked up reports of the Republic planning to mount a defense of the region. He supposed it was not to be a surprise. It wasn't like he had tried to be subtle in his advance. All he could do was hope that Commander T'Ransen could launch his attack before Republic reinforcements arrived. Or that the famed Sith warlord could contain such reinforcements long enough for Koridan to finish his strike at Earth and rejoin him.

He gave little thought to Varyn. Both T'Ransen and Varyn were renowned military commanders that had served under him for at least half a decade in his campaigns to subdue enemies of the Sith Empire in their side of the galaxy. If T'Ransen counted as his third in command, Varyn was undoubtedly his second-in-command. With another twenty-five thousand warships at his disposal, and the Leviathan, Koridan had no doubt in the Sith Lord's ability to achieve victory.

Caleb sighed as he went over the various reports scattered throughout the desk. Being a senior member of the Jedi Council held great honor. It also, he thought with a scowl, held great boredom. And with the new Sith threat looming, that boredom would only mean an increase to the reports that found their way to his desk.

With another heavy sigh, he began going through them. Kiyomasa and Masamune had sent him a memo to inform him of their availability to assist the Tenth Fleet, and to request the Jedi Alex Argo and three other Knights be assigned with them. Caleb decided to tackle that first, filing through the list of Jedi he felt would best suit the assignment.

The first thing Matthew had done after the funeral service for Fal Kooru had been to issue a recall order. All Jedi, no matter where in the Republic, no matter what task they were attending to, were to return to Earth immediately for reassignment. It made Caleb's stomach churn.

After four years of peace, Jedi Masters, Knights and Padawans were being assigned military roles, with troops and fleets under their commands. Kiyomasa was a likely candidate to assume command of the Second Systems Army, including the 321nd Star Corps with Commander Billuit, and the Tenth Fleet under Admiral Zun Bando'A. Caleb had already been assigned command of the Second Fleet under Admiral Bel Iblis and the Third Systems Army, including the 501st Legion under Commander Rex. Jeremy had been assigned to him as an adjunct and given an engineering division and defense fleet. He was already off to Endor to assist in increased weapons developments. Maya had also been partnered with him, a Senior General in command of the 114th Legion. Raymond and Olivia had been given the Seventh Army, including the 41st Legion under Commander Green and the Third Fleet under Admiral Bwautu, with Ayrin as a field commander. Matthew and Sylvia had taken the Sixth Fleet, under Admiral Gavin Jets and the First Systems Army, including the 212th Legion with Cody. They had also transferred the 33rd Elite to the Sixth Fleet as their personal command battle group.

That was just a few of the assignments Caleb knew of. There were others. Some he would handle himself. Raymond was also assigning Jedi to various military units. Ten Council Masters had received command of entire fleets and armies as High Generals, responsible for overseeing thousands of ships and hundreds of thousands of Clone troopers. Forty Jedi Masters were assigned to these units as Senior Generals, in charge of the various Sector Armies that comprised the Systems Armies, four Sector Armies to one Systems Army. Other Masters and Knights were made Generals, in charge of legions, battalions or task forces. And Padawans were given the rank of Commander, assigned wherever their master was posted, usually with a regiment or division as their primary responsibility.

Caleb sighed. It was a rather difficult task to assign the majority of the thousand or so Jedi that comprised their Order. He had to account for the estimated arrival time of each Jedi, which Jedi were currently in the process of training Padawans, which Jedi were best suited to which command, and many other details. If Raymond wasn't presently engaged in a meeting with the senior staff of the Seventh Army in the Praxeum's briefing room, he would have insisted the Master of the Order lend aid to this project.

As it stood, he was on his own for now.

The Force nudged him, distracting him from his datapads and computer screens. Caleb looked up. There was no one there. No reason for him to be distracted. His brow creased. What was the Force trying to tell him?

The answer to that question hit a second later when the door chimed a soft series of beeps. Someone was here. And, judging from the waves of helplessness and a sense of displacement, he had a suspicion he knew exactly who it was.

"Enter."

He shifted some of the more important datapads behind his primary computer screen as the door hissed open, revealing Shia. She stood in the doorframe, seemingly torn between entering and leaving. Caleb noted that her hands were shaking. Whatever she was here to talk about, it was bad. "Come in," he said kindly.

The girl made her way into the office and stood nervously behind one of the chairs. "Master Temple," she greeted respectfully, inclining her head. "May I speak with you?"

"Were you not to speak to Master White?"

Shia looked down. "The Grand Master is rather busy at the moment."

Caleb pursed his lips, but did not pursue the question. It could be rather daunting for one so young to seek an audience with the head of the Jedi Order, regardless of his kind nature towards the young. In fact, he knew from what Matthew had told him at Fal Kooru's funeral that the Grand Master had tried to speak to Shia on at least one occasion. But she had seemed distant, almost numb.

It seemed that numbness had worn off, replaced by so much anxiety and hopelessness that it made Caleb's heart ache. War was already causing pain. A Jedi's life was a hard one to walk. Pain was a part of it. The actions they took, the men and women they protected. All of this could take a toll on a spirit.

"What do you wish to speak to me about, Shia?"

Shia fidgeted nervously, refusing to meet his eye. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. It looked to Caleb like she was fighting some internal battle with herself. As though she was trying to make herself do something hard. And he feared what that might be.

At last, she reached to her belt and plucked the lightsaber off it. She twirled it in her fingers once, gazing at it longingly before placing it solemnly upon Caleb's desk. The Jedi Master could only stare at it.

"Master Temple, you know the Mirialan tradition. A Master finds an apprentice, another Mirialan, and trains that apprentice to Knighthood. That new Master then takes another Mirialan apprentice. And another. And another. In this way, the Mirialan's place in the Order is preserved." She paused to gather breath. Caleb could sense that now was not the time to interrupt her and let her continue. "But no Force sensitive's of my people have been discovered for some time. And," her voice broke off. The girl seemed to choke back tears. "My training was not complete."

An image of Antares flashed through Caleb's mind. "That can be easily remedied, Shia," he told her gently. "You don't have to throw away your entire life." He tried to soothe her mind by sending waves of reassurance through the Force, but his efforts simply bounced off, as though her mind had conjured some great shield that he could not break.

"But my place is not here," Shia replied simply, as though it was a foregone conclusion to her. She had resigned to this belief.

"Then where is it?"

"Truthfully, I cannot say Master."

"Then why don't you stay here?"

"I cannot. I feel the Force calling me elsewhere. I must trust it."

Caleb considered this. The Force worked in mysterious ways. Sometimes it altered destinies and changed lives. If Shia was indeed feeling the call of the Force, he had no right to go against that.

"Very well." He stood up and straightened his robes. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Shia. You are brave and determined. I'm certain you will succeed if the Force wills it."

Something that might have been a smile flashed across the girl's face. "Thank you, Master Temple. I won't forget you. Any of you."

Then the moment was broken. Shia turned to leave. Caleb sighed as he looked at his desk. The lightsaber was still there. It was tradition for a Jedi to turn his or her lightsaber in upon their resignation. But something about this just didn't feel right to him. He picked up the lightsaber and ran his thumb along the ridged handgrip. No. This lightsaber wasn't his.

"Shia. Wait."

She stopped with her hand on the door. "Yes?" Her head turned to look over her shoulder at him.

Caleb walked around his desk and approached her. "You forgot something." He held out the lightsaber.

Shia looked at it in surprise. "I don't understand."

"You made this lightsaber two years ago. It is a part of you. An extension of your being. Take it."

"But tradition..."

"The time for tradition is in the past. With what lies ahead, we will need people to stand up for what is right in this galaxy. And I know that, though you may not see it now, you will do that in your own way."

Shia reluctantly extended her hand and took the lightsaber. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Shia."

An invisible forcefield separated him from freedom. A wall of energy, impossible to see unless touched, barred him from the sights, sounds and smells of the outside world. And yet, he was unconcerned. He was right where he needed to be. Right where the Lords of the Sith wanted him to be. He had no need to fear. No need for worries. The assurances for his freedom came from the highest orders of the Sith invasion fleet that was, if everything had gone according to plan, making its way through lightspeed to reach Earth at this very moment.

Of course everything had gone according to plan. The Sith could not fail. Koridan had shown him the power of the Dark Side when he had recruited him on Romulus. K'Hroth had always suspected there had been something different about him. Something special. He had possessed gifts few bounty hunters had. He could see things before they happen, react to changes in battle or circumstance faster. On a few occasions, he had disarmed foes he had needed to take alive before they had been capable of reacting to his presence.

Then Koridan had found him and helped him to hone those gifts. K'Hroth had seen the change in himself. It was as though an inner fire powered him. Drove him. Guided his movements. Few people had faced the blade of the Grand Master and lived to tell the tale. K'Hroth was one of those people. It was that thought that brought a small smirk to his lips. He might never be able to beat the Jedi. But the Jedi would certainly remember him.

K'Hroth glanced at his cellmates. Both of them seemed less assured of their goal than he was. It was evident in their minds. Ever since the trio had been locked away by the Jedi for ramming the speeder into the building so Kornath could attack the outpost, they had been distant. Aloof. There were times when K'Hroth questioned their resolve to the Sith's grand plan.

The youngest of the three, Quen, let out a heavy sigh.

"Don't," K'Hroth snapped.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Quen replied irritably.

"You were about to ask how long until the trial."

Quen shrugged, conceding the point. "Ok. So what if I was?"

"You ask that at least twice a day. I'm sick of it."

"Sorry. It's just, it's frustrating being left to rot here. When's that bloody Sith Lord going to show up and get us out of here?"

No sooner had the question left Quen's lips than K'Hroth caught sight of shadows on the wall opposite there. They were the distinctive silhouettes of clone troopers. As always, the shock troopers that guarded the Republic prison complex carried DC-15 blaster rifles. Set to stun, but could be quickly adjusted to kill if a prison riot were to break out.

"Shut your trap!" he hissed at the younger man.

Quen scowled but obeyed. His eyes seared with anger as they glared at the older man.

"Idiot," the third occupant of the cell, Tycho, snarled, glaring at Quen.

K'Hroth watched the troopers as they marched past the cell. Their helmets turned left and right, checking each cell they passed and he couldn't quite suppress a nervous twitch of his hand when the t-visors of their helmets swiveled in their direction. The helmets focused on them, lingering several heartbeats longer than they had on other cells. K'Hroth swallowed, wondering if the troopers had heard Quen's foolish outburst.

His question was answered a handful of seconds later, when the troopers turned their heads to face front and continued marching. Their boots clacked against the ground, growing quieter and quieter until they couldn't be heard anymore.

"Ten minutes," Tycho, his voice still holding traces of exasperation, commented.

Not that they needed that. They all knew how long it would take for the guards to complete their lap of the detention level.

Out of sync with the normal patrol schedules, more boots clacked against the ground. Four clone troopers, their shoulder pauldrins painted green instead of red like the shock troopers that guarded the prison, marched up to their cell. One of the troopers held up a datapad and entered a command into the pad. The forcefield flickered into existence, then vanished again, this time winking out of existence.

K'Hroth glanced from one trooper to the next, wondering what the odds of him being able to take all four of them. He had the Force, albeit limited. Perhaps, if he could concentrate enough, he could disable two of them with the Force. That would leave two more clones for him to fight. Tycho and Quen would be valuable here, assuming they moved to help.

No. All four clones had blasters leveled against the three of them. K'Hroth couldn't take all four of them. Not with hands clutching triggers, and fingers waiting to pull those triggers.

"Come with us." The lead clone, a Sergeant, beckoned him forward.

K'Hroth stepped forward, not quite crossing the threshold of the cell. Two clones moved to greet him. One slapped stun cuffs on his wrists, then both took one arm, holding tightly. Now he was helpless. Yet he was at ease. All they would do was interrogate him. Again. Like they had done twice already. But their interrogation techniques were inadequate to the task. No clone had the power to break a Force-strengthened mind.

His heart sank when the clones shoved him out of the cell, leaving Tycho and Quen behind. Their indifference could be felt in the Force, not caring. Both of them assumed K'Hroth was in no immediate danger.

That was only because they couldn't see, or sense, the man that awaited the clone escort. A man with long, braided, dark hair, black pants, tunic and robes, and two lightsabers hanging from a black belt. In the Force, K'Hroth could feel many things in him. Light. Dark. The most prominent of what he felt. Curious. He was obviously a Jedi, and a powerful one at that. The Jedi's eyes bore into his. Cold. Emotionless. As though K'Hroth was nothing more than a particularly unpleasant bug that the Jedi had found on the bottom of his boot.

Unlike any Jedi that K'Hroth had ever seen.

Without a word, the Jedi turned on his heel and strode away. He moved quicker than the clones, his robes billowing behind him. The clones quickly shoved K'Hroth after them. He paid no mind to the cells they passed.

His mind was racing.

A Jedi had never interrogated him. Until today. Both of the other times had been standard clone and Intelligence interrogators. But a Jedi might be able to break through K'Hroth's mental barriers. He fought fear, fought panic, determined not to give the Jedi anything to sense that might tip his hand.

If the Jedi knew how afraid he was trying not to be, it would confirm that K'Hroth had been able to keep secrets from the lesser men that had interrogated him, rather than simply knowing nothing about the Sith plans.

He knew more than he should have known. Koridan had let him in on a few more details of the plan to...No. K'Hroth was not going to let his mind go there.

The Jedi's head half-turned, as though he had sensed something. A ripple in his mind as K'Hroth sought to turn his thoughts elsewhere.

A door at the end of a long hallway opened with a soft hiss. The Jedi marched straight toward it and the clones hurried to keep up with him, dragging K'Hroth with them. His leather boots scuffed against the ground and he fought to keep from scowling.

The clone troopers dragged him into an interrogation room and shoved him, none to gently into a chair. The Jedi stepped around a large, grey table in front of the chair. There was a chair opposite K'Hroth, but the Jedi didn't sit down. He stood, staring imposingly at K'Hroth as the clone troopers stood one to each side of him, blaster rifles raised to shoulder guards.

"Whatever you plan to do, get it over with." K'Hroth tried to affect a bored air, the better to mask his growing fear.

This Jedi was not like other Jedi. And it frightened him.

"You will tell me what I want to know."

"I know nothing." The lie came easily, refined by decades of practice. K'Hroth kept his expression neutral.

The Jedi clearly didn't buy it. "You will tell me what I want to know."

"I know nothing."

Again, the Jedi did not buy it. No matter how hard K'Hroth tried to keep his mind blank and his features neutral, the Jedi seemed to just know that it was a lie. K'Hroth knew things. Knew details of Sith plans and operations. Had insight into Koridan's mind. And while the Jedi didn't know how much K'Hroth knew, the Jedi was smart enough to be able to know, or at least guess that K'Hroth had useful information.

"Don't play games, bounty hunter. You and your comrades are responsible for the deaths of Republic citizens and soldiers." A pause, as the Jedi cleared his throat and sucked in a breath. "You are in league with the Sith that seek to invade our space. We know this."

"I am a simple bounty hunter. I make my living going wherever the money goes." That was not, strictly speaking, a lie. It was what K'Hroth used to be. Before the Sith had found him and shown him the power of the Force.

The Jedi smirked, the first change in his expression since the interrogation had started. "And yet, you helped the Sith steal military secrets from us. How much did they pay you for that?"

"Enough."

"Who paid you?"

"One of their commanders."

"The name." It was a demand, plain and simple. The Jedi's voice was layered with power and authority and K'Hroth was sure he saw the tightening of the Jedi's knuckles at his sides. He was losing patience. He repeated the demand, more forcefully, taking half a step towards K'Hroth.

"He didn't mention it." K'Hroth blurted out before he could stop himself. Silently, he cursed his own stupidity. The oldest lie in the book. He dropped his gaze for a second, and then raised it again to meet the Jedi's. What he found chilled him to the bone. The Jedi was glaring daggers at him and K'Hroth could feel the walls beginning to vibrate with power. It was suddenly hard to breathe. The air itself seemed thick with tension and anger.

The tension faded, but the vibrations remained. Even the clones seemed apprehensive about this.

"Dismissed." The Jedi shot the clones a look and jerked his head at the door.

Each clone snapped to attention and marched briskly away as though eager to be out of the room. When the door had closed with another hissing sound, the Jedi returned his steely glare to K'Hroth.

K'Hroth drew in breath, preparing himself for what was next.

Or at least, attempting to. He had no idea what the Jedi would do next. But it clearly wasn't going to be good.

"You will tell me what you know." And the Jedi extended a hand towards him, fingertips splayed like claws waiting to tear him apart. The words hit K'Hroth like a load of bricks. His mind felt foggy. As if he was in a daze. He could barely make out the features of the Jedi in front of him as his vision swam.

It almost seemed to him that the Jedi's request was a reasonable course of action. This Jedi wanted, no, needed to know who had hired him. It would do K'Hroth no harm to reveal that little detail.

No.

As quickly as that thought passed through his mind, some inner defense mechanism caught that treasonous idea and squelched it. He would never tell this Jedi what he wanted to know. Not now. Not ever. He latched onto the strength this defense mechanism had provided and let it flow through his mind, attempting to shield himself from the Jedi's attack.

He experienced a sudden sensation, as though he was falling down a long, black tunnel and his vision nearly faded completely before abruptly returning to normality. K'Hroth could see clearly the Jedi before him, head bowed, eyes closed, hand still outstretched.

And that was when the pain hit.

He heard a scream and knew it was his own. The more K'Hroth tried to resist, the more painful it became. Just when he thought his head might explode from it all, it suddenly stopped. As quickly as the pain had started, it faded, leaving nothing but numbness slowly spreading through his body.

He hadn't seen the Jedi relax his hold and lower his hand to his side, where it remained, crooked slightly so as to be easily raised once more. K'Hroth's breath came in short, ragged pants.

"Force training. You have a strong mind, bounty hunter. And defensive techniques that only a Jedi or Sith could have taught you."

At first, the words seemed to come from far away, as though K'Hroth wasn't all there. But then the reality of the situation hit and his heart sank into his stomach. His resistance hadn't simply been strength of will. It had been backed by the Force.

Even when K'Hroth had tried his hardest, he had still failed in the end. He lowered his head in shame. "Go ahead, Jedi. Kill me. If you don't, he will."

Now, at last, the Jedi sat. His features softened slightly, though not by much. "Who?" he asked in a voice that seemed calmer. More curious than demanding. "Who will?"

"The Sith."

That was all Raymond managed to get out of the bounty hunter. Half an hour passed. The bounty hunter refused to give up any further details. The names, strengths, weaknesses and numbers of the Sith remained unknown. It was incredibly vexing. Raymond felt as though he was on the cusp of some great discovery. The knowledge of the Sith's plans lurked just beyond his reach.

The bounty hunter was a key part of the plan, Raymond was sure of it. Every time the Jedi Master looked at him, he felt a tingle down his spine. A sense of danger mixed with the Dark Side. A poisonous taint in the air. It was impossible to pinpoint how this danger would manifest itself.

But it was real.

And it was coming soon.

Raymond ordered the Clone Troopers he had brought to take the bounty hunter back to his cell, then headed back to the Praxeum. Olivia met him, her smile as warm and loving as always, her presence a constant source of joy and comfort in his life.

Compared to that, Raymond felt emotionally drained. Overwhelmed by setbacks and burdens. A lone man drowning in a sea of troubles. Raymond sat heavily down on the bed and sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Just moving his arm to accomplish those few movements was hard enough. Each limb felt like it weighed a kilo.

He wished he could just fall back into the pillows and sleep until the war ended. But he couldn't. He was Raymond Shearin. A Jedi Master. A man with a family and responsibilities. And no matter how much he might want to, he couldn't run away from that.

"Long day?" Olivia was laying next to him, already under the blankets. She glanced at him, then at her clasped hands and fidgeted.

"One could say that."

"If it helps, Commander Green said to tell you he would handle mobilizing his troops. He'll be ready to ship out in four days."

It didn't really help. Raymond didn't want to think of armies and war. Of paperwork, and deciding which Jedi would command which unit. Of the Masters, assigned to vast armies, several legions strong, and of Knights assigned to Battalions and Divisions. Assigned to what might be, very likely, their deaths. But it was information he could use. And it was one less burden on his plate. So he gave a quick nod of thanks.

"Any idea where we'll be going?" Olivia asked, and Raymond could tell she was fighting to keep emotion out of her voice.

"Not yet. The only front that seems to be about to open is the Corporate Sector. Kiyomasa and Masamune will be there. Not us."

"I assume most of our troops would be deployed to defend strategically important worlds?"

Raymond nodded. "Until the Sith show their full strength, that's the current plan. Hera and Lowbacca have volunteered to deploy troops around the border to the Unknown Regions."

"I can see that being useful. It would hopefully prevent the Sith in the Corporate Sector from getting reinforcements."

"It would, at the very least, stall those reinforcements."

Olivia nodded in agreement, smiling slightly, then frowning. Her eyebrows creased. "We haven't found where Sith space lies have we?"

"No. We suspect that, based on fleet movements and actions, they came from somewhere in the Unknown Regions. Close to the Deep Core."

"If we find their home space, we can take the fight to them."

Raymond smiled. How he would like to. The thought of Sith warriors inside Republic space was sickening. It was horrific. Unthinkable. It was much more preferable to think of Jedi in Sith space, gallantly leading Clones against the Dark Siders. "At the very least, we would know where to deploy our forces."

Olivia sat up fast, her eyes alight with the fire a new idea usually brought. Her lips curled in what was almost a smile and she opened her mouth.

"Matthew is already planning a mission." Raymond deadpanned.

She closed her mouth, visibly deflated. "Wish he wasn't two steps ahead."

"There's still time to volunteer for the assignment," Raymond nudged her leg with his arm and grinned at her. "If you're that desperate to get out of the Praxeum." He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm not desperate. I just want to do something important. Something worthwhile. Something that will make a difference," she said matter-of-factly. Something in her eyes seemed to die. A light that had been there faded, leaving emptiness and something resembling hopelessness. "Something that will stop the Sith from tearing apart our family the way the Mandalorians did."

Raymond rested a gentle hand on her knee as he turned his full body to face her. She was biting her lip now, and he could see her hands shaking. She seemed so fragile, breakable in that moment. Vulnerability leaked through the suit of armor she always seemed to be clad in. "That won't happen." He reached for her, both physically and through the Force and drew her into an embrace. As his arms encircled her, he touched her mind with the Force, trying to project waves of reassurance. Olivia shook in his arms, then relaxed. Her breathing slowed until it was normal. "Love you," he whispered into her hair.

"Love you to."

Olivia took a deep breath, and then recovered her composure. The suit of armor was back in place. "Sorry, I'm just tired."

"Don't apologize, Liv. We're all worried."

"Me? Worried?" Her laugh shook for a fraction of an instant, and the amusement on her face didn't quite reach her eyes. But it was still a laugh. And it was still a smile.

Raymond smiled back. "Yeah. I'm not worried either, Liv."

"You want to tell Jason and Jaina goodnight?" Liv asked, her eyes darting to the still-open door that lead out of their bedroom and to the small living space the family occupied. Jason and Jaina's room was just past the living room and kitchen, opposite to their parent's room.

Raymond nodded and stood up. "Sure." He shrugged off his flowing black robe and made his way through his home to the door. He let a bounce come into his step, let a smile grace his grim features. And let the love he felt for them flow forth, changing his countenance from burdened Master to loving father. He knocked once, then opened the door.

Jason and Jaina were already laying down. The lights were out. Raymond marveled at how big his youngest children were getting and briefly wondered if they had remembered their homework.

"Dad?" Jaina asked softly, sitting up and glancing his way.

"Hey, kiddo," Raymond moved to sit next to her and she scooted over to make room. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," Jaina replied tiredly. "I'm not tired." Her words were almost lost in a very punctual yawn.

Raymond bent over and kissed her forehead. "Love you."

"Love you to, Dad."

"Good night."

Raymond got up and walked around his daughter's bed to reach his son. Jason was already fast asleep. Raymond bent at the waist and leaned over his son's still form. Jason had inherited his build and some of the features. The lack of freckles and the tan-colored skin being the most prominent. "Good night, Jason." The whisper was just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to disturb. "Love you."

Then he left, closing the door behind him and returning to Olivia's side. She curled against him, head on his shoulder and arms around him. Raymond stared at the ceiling and listened to her breathing, noting the rhythm, and the rise and fall of her chest that could be felt next to his own chest.

Tomorrow would bring more challenges. But for now, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

Upon reflection, Endor was a beautiful place, especially its forest moon of the same name. Its trees were nearly the height of skyscrapers. The Ewoks were irritatingly willing to capture and attempt to eat strangers, but they were really nothing more than cute and cuddly teddy bears once you got to know them. Cute and cuddly teddy bears with spears and stones, that is. Taria chuckled.

Eelya, much more serious-minded, shot her a look. "Master. What do you find amusing?"

Taria glanced at her. "Ewoks."

The younger Twi'Lek rolled her eyes and checked the sensor readings. "Reaching Endor in two minutes." She looked around the small shuttle craft. It was quite well built, like all Republic ships and equipped with a high power shield generator. It could take a pounding and the three laser cannons at the front could deliver a pounding as well. The shuttle was also very maneuverable.

"Fine, fine. Transmit standard comm frequencies to Endor Research Station." The young Knight sounded almost bored and had even kicked her feet back, leaning back in her chair with her boots propped on the joystick. Fortunately the course was locked in, otherwise the shuttle would be executing a random sequence of evasive maneuvers more likely to transfer lunch from stomachs to mouths.

The Padawan transmitted the codes, waited, and then received the acknowledgement codes. "We are cleared for landing at Hangar Seven."

"Understood."

The seconds on the clock ticked by as the ship got closer and closer to its destination. Taria was looking forward to spending time with the Ewoks if she could find time to escape from the boredom of supervising weapons researchers. Scientists stationed at Endor were among the highest respected weapons specialists in the entire Republic, responsible for most of the weapons that had won them the Mandalorian Wars. Since then, most weapons had been retired and development had slowed, but with the recent arrival of the Sith, there had been talk of ramping up production and research of new weapons technology.

An insistent beeping brought her out of her reverie. Before she could take a look, Eelya flipped the switch and surveyed the message. Her face drained of color. "Master..." Her voice was quiet, the only word she was capable of uttering bringing her master to see. Taria's eyes widened in shock. "No!"

The message read: UNDER ATTACK. DO NOT APPROACH. A few possibilities flashed through the two Jedi's minds before they settled on the obvious option as one. Sith.

"Red alert. Charge weapons and shields."

"We can't raise shields or fire while at lightspeed, Master," Eelya reminded her respectfully. "Raising shields will destabilize the tachyon field and force us to decelerate."

"I'm aware of that," Taria snapped. "We're going to come out of lightspeed ready for a fight so help me!"

That shushed the Padawan and she hastened to carry out her orders. Her fingers flew over the controls for the shields and weapons before rechecking the comms. A distress call had been issued on all frequencies. Whatever was happening on Endor was bad. Very bad.

"Dropping out of lightspeed in five...four...three...two...one...now." She pulled the lever back, beginning the deceleration process. Stars became pinpricks of light against the blackness of space. Directly in front of them was the Endor system, the gas giant and the forest moon of Endor. Starbases were scattered throughout the orbits of both the gas giant and Endor. But what caught the eye of both Jedi was the massive...thing gliding towards the central command base.

It was a massive creature, with deep red leathery skin, a massive bulbous face with a hundred yellow eyes of varying sizes. The general shape was that of a whale, with torn fins that pulsed and flexed, propelling the thing through space. It was easily twice the size of the base.

"What. Is. That?" Eelya looked shocked and terrified. This creature was so horrifying that her first instinct was to turn and run. Taria could feel her trying to calm herself, trying to reach out with the Force. Her breathing quickened and her hands shook. The Dark Side energies radiating from the creature didn't help either. If anything, they undermined her efforts further.

"Eelya. Eelya." Taria shook her gently. Somehow she had drawn on the Force to calm herself. "Focus young one. We are in grave danger."

Eelya shook herself, struggling to focus. Danger. They were in danger. She looked around frantically, attempting to pull herself together. Taria snapped off an order to raise shields. Eelya reached for a console, her fingers moving sluggishly on the keyboard and the ship hummed satisfactorily in response. Power transferred from system to system, flowing into the energy shield that would hopefully protect them.

The Endor base began launching starfighters. E-wings and X-wings streaked towards the massive creative. Without any hesitation, they opened fire, their laser blasts peppering the thick, leathery skin of the creative, which ignored the hits. One explosion after another rippled against the surface, but accomplished nothing.

"Master?"

"If they can't stop it, neither can we." Taria peered through the sensor scope, studying the creature with interest before raising her eyes to look at it through the cockpit.

On the radar, multiple blips started appearing. The first wave was a triangular formation of the destroyers they had faced at Antares. Immediately following that wave were larger cruisers and then massive, wedge-shaped craft. Star Destroyers. "Sith armada!" Taria was instantly coming about and setting a course as far away from Endor as possible. "Divert all available power to the engines we have to outrun them!"

Starfighters identical to the ones from Antares were launched from hangars, like a cloud of insects that bubbled out form the fleet become converging into one large formation.

"The fighters are coming after us. So are the smaller cruisers," Eelya reported.

In response, Taria diverted more power to the engines. The shuttle was straining now, the intense power of the engines now threatening to tear the nacelles apart if they went any faster. And yet, the Sith still closed in. The Jedi could sense the Dark Side from the bridges of vessels, not to mention from the creature. But not only that, there was a familiarity to it. Like they had seen it or sensed it before.

A laser blast flashed past the cockpit, jolting Taria out of her near-reverie state. Pushing all thoughts of the creature out of her head to deal with later, she focused on evading the oncoming horde of laser fire. At least a squadron of fighters was closing fast from all sides, cutting off escape routes and forcing them to maintain a straight course. But of course, maintaining a straight course would result in death. Unless the tachyon drive finished its recharge cycle in the next few seconds they were dead.

Before they could get far there was a massive shockwave behind them that threw them into a tumble. Consoles exploded, bulkheads ruptured, smoke filled the cockpit. The Jedi coughed. Taria struggled to right the ship, eventually managing it but by now it was too late.

"Master! The creature is coming after us!" The Padawan's voice was nearing panic. Unbecoming of a Jedi, but hardly the most pressing issue at the moment, as she was quite correct. The thing had somehow managed to blow apart the stations, littering Endor's orbit with debris. Now it turned its attention to them, and in a surge of Force speed was closing in on them. It's huge mouth opened to reveal a gaping maw filled with rows of large, sharp teeth.

The shuttle jolted to a halt. Taria flipped switches and pressed buttons, nearing panic herself. When her instruments and panels revealed nothing, she reached out with the Force. Then it hit her. The creature had them in a massive Force grip. Taria struggled with the controls, trying to free the wounded craft but it was impossible.

Fighters streaked past the cockpit before coming about to face the shuttle with guns blazing. Green laser blasts slammed into the ship, ripping one of the engine nacelles free and launching its smoking, sparking pieces into space. The shuttle bucked and rocked. Sparks flashed from exploding consoles and both Jedi ducked, shielding their faces.

By the time the explosions had died out enough to allow the Jedi to safely uncover their eyes, all they could see was the creature's mouth closing on them, rows of jagged teeth racing towards them at alarming speeds. Taria fought the urge to swallow nervously as she held her head high. She would not let her final moments be one of cowardice.

A second later, Eelya's head rose. Taria could see the fear on her apprentice's face, and was all the more impressed when the Twi'Lek girl managed a smile. "We are one with the Force," she whispered.

"And the Force is with us."

The teeth ripped through the shuttle, tearing it and the Jedi apart before spitting the saliva-covered debris back into space.

In the dead of night, a man was startled awake. Years of training stopped him from panicking in the moment sleep was ripped from him, leaving him wide-awake and staring at the ceiling. For the briefest of moments, Matthew wondered where he was.

The weight and warmth next to him served to remind him that he was safely in the Praxeum with his wife next to him. Sylvia shifted slightly. Matthew looked at her, then at the alarm clock on the nightstand. One thirty four in the morning. He sighed and looked at the ceiling.

He turned his thoughts to what had woken him. The dream had been filled with chaos. Death. Darkness. He had been on a space station in the far reaches of space. That much he remembered. Matthew focused on that detail, bringing it to the forefront of his mind.

A command center. People scrambling to stations. Commanders in Republic uniforms barking orders. The panic in the room could still be felt even through the memories of the dream.

Matthew focused on the view of the planet visible in the viewscreen. A large, orange gas giant with a lush, green moon in its orbit. He recognized the planet at once. Endor. The heart of the Republic's weapon experimentation.

Sith battleships emerged from lightspeed. Star Destroyers and larger Dreadnaughts came first, with smaller escort cruisers and light destroyers taking up flanking and escort positions. They arrayed in an attack vector, bearing down on the station. Matthew watched as the Republic officers frantically scrambled fighters and readied cannons.

But this wasn't it. This wasn't what had awoken him. Matthew watched, focused intently on the creature, massive and evil, that had come into view. It emerged from behind one of the Star Destroyers, its pulsing fins propelling it ahead of the Sith formation. It set its large, glowing eyes on the station and charged it, ramming into it.

There was nothing after that for him to remember.

Matthew had a sinking feeling that this was no dream. It had felt too real. The detail, the panic, everything. Something terrible had happened at Endor. No matter how hard he tried, sleep eluded him after that. It had to have been five in the morning when his mind finally quieted and he drifted off to sleep.