The Sanctuary of Regret

Chapter Thirty-Six

After the explosions waned, only the crackle of static filled the Odessen war room. No one moved and no one spoke. It was as if the room itself teetered on a precipice where the slightest movement or gesture would determine the outcome of a defining moment.

A shrill beep cut through the static like a rousing slap, effectively breaking the stupor that had settled over the chamber's occupants. One by one those gathered around the holonet display shuffled back to their posts.

The console at the heart of the war room flashed red. Lana whirled on the table, her eyes narrowing as she processed the meaning of the alert. "Commander, I'm receiving word of an unsanctioned departure," she said, scrolling through the incoming transmission. "It's Koth—he and his crew have taken control of the Gravestone."

Liatrix swiped the tears from her cheeks and abandoned the holonet in favour of her workstation. "Open a channel—find out what he's up to."

"Opening a channel—Koth explain yourself—the Gravestone isn't slated for a mission and you haven't been cleared for take-off."

"That's because I'm not looking for clearance. My crew and I—we've had enough of your Alliance—and this tyrant you insisted on saving. I'd love to stay and chat, Lana, but I've got a ship to steal."

"Koth! No! Don't do it!"

"I have no choice, Lana. I gotta make this right. I helped free her and she burned Zakuul to the ground. The Alliance doesn't deserve the Gravestone."

"Koth, I'm begging you, don't do this—Koth listen."

"I'm done listening, Lana. Switching off."

She slapped the strategy table with both hands. "He's taking off!"

"He's not going anywhere," Liatrix said, feverishly inputting her personal codes into the console.

"How will you stop him?"

"I installed an override a few months ago—just in case something like this were to happen."

"It's working—" Lana gasped.

After the Gravestone's forced landing, Liatrix stood. "Lana—have our security detail board the ship. Take Koth and his crew into custody."

"Shall I have them escorted to the brig, Commander?"

"No. Have security hold them on the platform, I'll deal with this myself."

Lana followed. "Commander? Permission to join you?"

"Granted," Liatrix barked as she strode toward the exit. She punched the elevator, feeling it lurch beneath her feet as it began its steady rise to the surface.

Theron and Jonas exchanged looks and fell in behind Lana when the lift returned.

Two squads of Alliance troopers boarded the Gravestone. Two more surrounded the vessel, each man crouching behind an energy shield with their rifles at the ready.

The ping of discharged blaster fire bounced off the ship's dense interior walls. Amid curls of grey smoke, the faint stench of spent cartridges wafted down the boarding ramp. Angry shouts rose to a fevered pitch and a sudden blinding light meant someone had lobbed a flash grenade.

The smoke thinned taking the noise with it—a brief lull before the clatter resumed. Bodies slammed against bodies and occasionally the sickening crack of a weapon splintering bone leaked out.

Greenish-grey gas puffed down the ramp like fog giving rise to raw croupy coughs inside. Unscathed by the gas and flash grenades, a pair of troopers marched down the ramp first and were soon followed by the rest with Koth's cuffed and beaten crew between them, and finally Koth himself who sputtered and coughed even as he resisted arrest. The first troopers to disembark trained their weapons on the prisoners.

Pockets of onlookers gathered to watch and whisper their confusion in hushed voices. Lord Scourge stood among them but said nothing.

Liatrix approached the Gravestone, her white uniform and billowing cloak a sharp contrast against the gleaming black armored troopers. "Stealing my ship, Koth? Not smart."

"My people were acting on my orders—this was my doing," Koth rasped. "Spare them, Commander."

"Oh…so it's Commander now. Your crew betrayed me when they chose to follow you."

Theron and Jonas quickened their stride to catch up to Lana.

Koth stared at Lana, his eyes pleading. "Say something, please Lana, I'm begging you. Stop this madness."

"Quiet. There's nothing left between us," Lana muttered.

"I have to make this right. I didn't help you so she could raze Zakuul," Koth pleaded. "My crew only wanted to help people. Let them go. We stole the ship because we wanted to save Zakuul. I won't apologize for it."

"I don't want your apology." Liatrix canted her head with an unspoken order. One of the troopers bashed the stock of his rifle against Koth's face. His nose bled and swelled at an odd angle until one eye closed and a massive bruise bloomed over his eye socket.

Liatrix walked along the line of traitors. "They're traitors, one and all, just like you and this is what happens to those who betray me. Line them up."

The troopers wrangled the eight members of Koth's crew to the edge of the platform and reclaimed their positions before them.

"Fire at will," Liatrix said flatly.

Molton plasma bolts burned through the line of traitors, sending them over the edge to plummet into the rocky gorge below. A series of dull thumps and rustling bushes heralded their demise.

"How could you…" Koth wailed. His head lolled as he fought the dizzying effects of the concussion.

"No Koth. The question is how could you? You decided their fate when you incited them to commit treason. Their deaths are on you."

"You're a monst—argh."

Liatrix willed the Force to coil about his throat to choke the last syllable from his mouth. He rose over the platform until he was suspended over the gorge, wriggling like a freshly hooked worm about to be swallowed by a cavernous maw.

His eyes bulged and his flesh took on a blue-grey tinge. Before his body could suffer its final throes, she wrenched her hand and snapped his neck. His body tumbled into the ravine and stopped just shy of the river.

"Lana—dispatch a droid detail to see to the bodies. Dispose of them however you wish," Liatrix said. "And have Tora repair any damage to the ship."

"Yes, Commander," Lana said solemnly.

Liatrix's eyes met Theron's briefly. "Return to your posts, there's nothing more to see here."

If she sensed Scourge's presence, she didn't let on and continued into the base.

Jonas ran his hand over the stubble peppering his jaw. "You gonna talk to her?"

Theron shook his head. "What's there to say?"

Doc canted his head to inspect his handiwork. "All things considered, I'd say it turned out pretty good. Can't even tell."

Darmas ran his fingers over his cheek up to his left temple and then to the back of his neck beneath his hairline. "Good work, Doctor. I see your reputation is well deserved."

"Yeah well, the pay was decent, but it's not like I can ever write about it for the University of Coruscant."

"You really are every bit the glory hound I've heard you to be."

"Uh…thanks? So—what are we going to do about our number One problem?"

"You just leave that to me," Darmas said, sliding off the table. "There is one thing you can do—store that droid until I can collect it later. Shame to lose such asset."

"Not really, if you're askin' me. Can't say I'd be sorry to see it melted into scrap. Whatever you do—just keep that thing away from me. If I never saw it again, it'd be too soon."

"I hear you m'boy, loud and clear."

Darmas collected the pale man's accessories, including the facial replacement and heaved it into the incinerator while Doc wrangled the assassin droid into a storage closet.

"We'd better make sure we've got our stories straight," Doc said.

"It's really quite simple—no matter what they ask, don't deviate from the story."

"Which is what exactly?"

Darmas knelt to arrange One's body on the floor. "That this man, broke into your surgery through the skylight and caught you by surprise. You have no idea who he is." He studied Doc's face and frowned. "It really would track much better if there were signs of a scuffle. This may hurt."

"What the hell—" Doc managed before Darmas's fist connected with his cheek. "Ow! How's that for gratitude huh?"

"My apologies, but this needs to be believable. A few more details ought to shore up our story."

"You are not hitting me again," Doc growled.

"Of course not—but your clothing needs to corroborate what happened." Darmas tugged the sleeve and shoulder of Doc's lab coat and ripped. Next, he tore his stethoscope in half. "That should suffice."

"What about you?"

"Not to worry," Darmas drawled and tore his cuff. After spattering some of One's blood on his face and clothing, he roughed his hair. "You might want to do the same," he said, nodding at Doc's neatly styled hair. "Where's your com?"

Doc mussed his hair until it fell into his eyes. "Over there." He caught a glimpse of his reflection and studied it. "You know—this kinda works—bit more devil-may-care than usual—but I can totally pull it off."

"Let's hope you can pull off having been in the scrap of your life, m'boy."

"I ran with the Balmorran Resistance a few years back. You'd be surprised at what I picked up along the way."

"And today you get your chance to flex those muscles." Darmas tapped the com unit and panted as Jonas's image sprouted from the device. "Thank the maker. You'd better get down here, m'boy."

"The hell happened to you?"

"I'm here with your Doctor. You'd better see for yourself. We'll explain everything when you arrive."

"I can't just leave," Jonas grumbled. "All Hell's broken loose."

"Probably one reason he chose now to attack."

"Who?"

"Your old nemesis—he's here."

Jonas rammed his hand through his hair. "You can't be serious. You've got him in custody?"

"In a manner of speaking—he's not going anywhere. Ever."

"You killed him?"

Darmas spread his hands. "I wasn't about to let him shoot me. There was a scuffle. I daresay if it weren't for me, you'd be down a doctor right now."

"Put Kimble on," Jonas barked.

"I'm right here, Balkar," Doc mumbled and dabbed at his lip. "This better not leave a mark."

Jonas glared at Doc's image. "You'll live. What happened?"

"It's just like the Ol' man said. Crazy bastard came from nowhere and jumped me. Ripped up my lab. I need a damn drink."

"A'right. On my way, Balkar out."

An hour later, Lana strode into the lab. "I've summoned everyone here as you asked. They should be here presently." She took a few tentative steps toward the body. "Is it true, Jonas? Is it really him?"

"Sure as hell looks like it." Jonas drew back the sheet covering the pale man's corpse. "I was hard-pressed to understand it myself. No one survives decapitation and being jettisoned into space. It's been over seven years. I don't care who the hell they are. No one lives through that."

"I took the liberty of running a few tests, while we were waiting," Doc said. "His blood and DNA show a level of degradation common to first-generation clones."

"You're tellin' me the tricky sonuvabish somehow cloned himself? And still held a grudge?"

"Hey, I have no idea how he'd have done it, I'm just sayin' this is what we're looking at." Doc pushed his datapad toward Lana and Balkar. "The results don't lie."

"Clearly, some details may remain a mystery," Darmas added somberly.

"We can't chance another resurrection," Lana said. "We need to figure out how he did it." Her attention landed on the doorway, as Theron, Liatrix, and Quinn arrived.

Doc sighed. "Look, it's been a long day, and I'd just like to get home to my family."

Lana nodded. "Of course, Doctor. You've been through quite an ordeal. If there is anything further, we'll be in touch."

Liatrix caught Doc's elbow. "Before you go—are you all right?"

"Ol' Doc's just fine. Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Just callin' it a day."

"And you, Darmas?"

"No worse than your typical cantina brawl. Nothing I couldn't manage."

"Why were you here?" Liatrix asked. "People don't come here unless they're sick or hurt."

"I appreciate your concern, Commander, but it was time for my routine physical, nothing more."

Liatrix glared at the body. "So this is the man who had my children murdered? You told me he was dead."

"The man who murdered Deston and Sephna is dead, Commander. Doc's test results indicate this man is a clone. I realize this must be difficult for you."

"Actually, quite the opposite, Lana. If anything, this only justifies my actions toward Zakuul further. I lost everything because of them."

"I lost too," Theron snapped. "But nothing justifies that."

Liatrix whirled on him. "You never knew our son, never held him. You never heard my daughter laugh. You didn't know them. You don't understand and you never will."

Darmas's gaze shifted between them, his brow lifting at the details.

Lana stepped between them. "Please—it's been a long trying day—don't say anything you'll regret."

"The only thing I regret right now—" Theron growled.

Jonas clamped Theron's shoulder, his eyes pleading.

"Don't!" Lana snapped. "I think we have enough to go on here—enough to lay this matter to rest for the time being. Emotions are running high. I think it's best we all call it a day."

"Lana, m'dear, I agree completely. If there's nothing else?"

"Of course, Darmas. We'll be in touch if we have further questions."

"Thank you, I'll be in my quarters if I'm needed."

"I wouldn't wander off if I were you, Pollaran," Theron called after him, before storming off in the opposite direction.

"I hear you, Agent Shan," Darmas muttered under his breath. "Loud and clear."

Quinn circled the body, his attention alternating between the broken skylight and the blaster burns on One's chest.

"When you're done, I'll get one of the droids to incinerate the body," Jonas offered.

"No," Quinn cut him off. "Have him placed in refrigeration. We may have further need to examine the body. Perhaps an autopsy."

"I think that would be wise," Lana agreed. "And I think it would be best to keep that information amongst ourselves. Of course, I'll brief Theron, but no one else needs to be included in this."

"Agreed," Liatrix said. Her saber hand opened and closed involuntarily, and her tone was sharper than usual. "Quinn, I'm sorry you have to go through this. I know he was your brother."

"Don't be, my Lord. This man is not my brother and even if he were, I've disowned him as such years ago. Please accept my deepest regrets for any painful memories this no doubt dredged up."

Liatrix nodded. "Thank you, General."

"For what it's worth, my lord, Agent Shan was out of line," Quinn added.

Jonas frowned. "Let's just get the body to the morgue for storage."

"Shall we leave them to it?" Lana asked.

"May as well," Liatrix said. "I have a few matters I'd like to tie up in the war room."

"Of course, Commander."

Doc held Kira and their son close, far longer than he usually did and he fought the tears welling in his eyes. "I probably don't say it enough, but I love you guys. You're everything to me. I dunno what I did to deserve you, but I have the best wife and kid in the galaxy."

Kiran wriggled free and dashed to his room giggling. "I'm gonna hide!"

"And when I find you, you're going straight to bed, mister," Kira called after him and turned back to Doc. "See what happens when you get all mushy on him?"

"What happens when I get all mushy with you?" He teased.

"This." Kira pressed her mouth to his and lingered close. "I love you too, big guy. Comin' to bed?"

"I'm still a bit wound up. I'll catch up to you, later."

"Your loss," she purred and sauntered toward Kiran's bedroom.

He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, the air cooling the traces of sweat his palms left behind on his cheeks. After pouring himself two fingers of whiskey, he dropped into his cushy chair and clicked on the view screen.

A bright curtain of flames dominated the screen and a reporter crouched under a section of rubble that had ceased burning.

"This is Ina Zadliz of CorusNet News Network, reporting live from Zakuul. The world continues to burn after Alliance terrorists concealed hundreds if not thousands of explosives, the likes of which, none of us have ever seen before. The magnitude of the damage is staggering and experts say that it's possible Zakuul may burn for years. That's right, folks, years.

The remnants of the Eternal Fleet are literally falling from the sky as we speak, as no one on Zakuul has control over the vessels. Damage to the control system has clearly infected the fleet. It would appear the AI in charge has malfunctioned and issued a self-destruct order. This is a dark day for Zakuul.

"Humanitarian emergency response crews were dispatched by the Supreme Chancellor and volunteers from the Republic are en route. We have been told that we possess no material capable of extinguishing these fires. Traditional methods only feed the flames.

"The death toll is—well, I can't even guesstimate what it might be—surely in the hundreds of thousands. Wait—I'm getting an update—a body has been pulled from the wreckage of the Spire—maker this is incredible—the body has been identified as Empress Vaylin of Zakuul. One moment—the body has been identified and confirmed as the late Empress Vaylin of Zakuul. This must be devastating for any survivors—who may be off world.

"The Republic and the Supreme Chancellor have issued a joint statement condemning the Alliance's attack on Zakuul and its mostly civilian population. The Empire's spokesman, Minister Lorman has issued a separate statement decrying the attack…We will continue to broadcast live from Zakuul so long as it remains safe for us to do so, back to you Zayan."

Doc downed his drink in one go. "Bastards. Trix frees them and this is what they do. She ended the damn war! That's gratitude right there." He shook his head. "But hundreds of thousands dead…dammit. Couldn't you have found a better way? Kark me…all those people…gone. Yeah, but who the hell are you to judge? Not like you cared about the faces. Kark. How the hell can I ever fix that?"

The scene changed back to the news desk and the image of a handsome dark hair-haired man with pale grey eyes flashed upon the screen.

"In other news, the investigation into Moff Ryon Kilran's disappearance is ongoing. Kilran is the son of the late Grand Moff Rycus Kilran, best known for his strategies at Black Talon and The Maelstrom Prison where he served after the Cold War. The Grand Moff served the Empire with distinction and his son was a rising star in the Imperial Navy. His last known location was Coronet City where he was posted. If anyone has seen this man or had contact with him, kindly contact your local authorities or CorusNet News Network."

Doc sat forward in his chair and gawped at the image. "I never forget a face…" He sighed and collapsed into the backrest. "Maybe if I pinch myself…it'll all go away."

((To be continued…))