A/N: Please bear with me for the long delay between postings. This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend and beta fialleril who did not beta this chapter so all the mistakes in here are 100 percent mine. :P
Chapter 37, A Show of Hands
Long ago…
Long ago, the twins were borne. Children of the Force, equally blessed and cursed, they lived too long to remain heroes.
Now She lies dying, her wrinkled hand clutching the fist of the small boy who stares down at her face with watery grey eyes.
"I… have… a… gift… for… you."
/
Coruscant. Present day.
'Convening of the Hands'
Darra had stared at the cryptic message with trepidation pooling in her stomach until the plastiplast self-destructed, evaporating between her fingers.
She had gone all the same. It would have been suicidal not to. Whatever plan of action was decided upon, the first would be to kill all those who had defied the call.
She was one of the first to arrive. She found a niche between two of the largest oaks, kept a wary eye on the overhanging vines that were reputed to strangle unwary passers-by, and waited.
One by one, the rest of the Emperor's Hands trickled into the palace gardens. All were dressed in their formal uniforms of long, hooded red robes and black facemasks: clothing that was as much for ceremony and the appearance of solidarity, as it was for security. They all knew each other, of course. In the Force, there were no disguises. But the Convening of the Hands was usually one step away from outright treason and only a fool would fail to remember that.
It was no surprise to Darra that the last Hand to arrive, the one that took his place by the Fountain as head of ceremony, was Ferus Olin.
Nor was it too much of a surprise that his first words after the Oath of Power were these:
"The Emperor has to be stopped."
/
Coruscant. Long ago.
"He is rather old to be Emperor after me."
The boy manages not to tense but the pieces of lightsabre scattered over the table tremble.
The Apprentice looks down on them and smiles. "Don't be afraid," he says and his grey eyes say that the words are a lie. "I'm just curious, that's all."
"I don't know what I meant, my Lord," the boy whispers. "I was confused. I have headaches."
"Yes, we know all about your headaches," the Apprentice drawls lazily. He picks up the red crystal without his hands and tosses it into the air. It catches the artificial light, refracts it through a thousand paths and for a moment, the image of a Cage filled with crystals such as these, twinkling in the almost perfect gloom fills his mind…
The crystal falls to the table and shatters as completely as the vision.
/
Coruscant. Present day.
"You think I am a traitor?"
"No, Ferus. I think you are a fool."
The Convening was over. It had been brief. Not much had been said beyond Ferus's argument for Darth Vader's deposal and an appeal to the other Hands to join him in achieving this. Of course, he wasn't expected to get an answer right away. The Hands would convene again and then they would decide as one body what will be done: Vader's execution or Ferus Olin's.
The case against Vader was clear enough: the activation of the Death Star, a weapon that was reserved for extreme action, against three Inner Rim planets in the pursuit of his mistress was an act of senseless violence that would de-stabilize centuries of an established balance between the totalitarian powers and the people they governed. He needed to be stopped before this happened.
However, the case against Ferus was the violation of the mandate that had been written into the bones of every Hand from the moment they were initiated, the mandate that was their earliest memory, and the very reason for their existence:
It is forbidden for a Hand to rise against the Emperor.
"You think our brethren will turn on me?" He asked now and snorted. "You're forgetting that no one can speak of what happened tonight to anyone who is not one of us. Not even to the Emperor himself."
"No, I think you are a fool to think you can take Vader down."
He scowled, his good-looking face becoming almost hideous. "Your precious Vader is powerful but he is not invincible. United, we can defeat him."
"Assuming for this argument that that is even possible, then what happens next, Ferus? Have you thought of that?"
He smiled and the ugliness vanished. "That's the best part."
She shook her head in frustration. "No, you haven't, have you? You talk well enough about keeping the balance and stopping Vader from pushing the people into the arms of the Jedi. You forget that there is also a balance within the Sith dynasty itself and your actions are threatening that balance!"
"What dynasty?" Ferus asked, laughing incredulously. "The Sith dynasty is the dynasty of the Force and of power. Sensitives do not breed, dear sister. Otherwise our Emperor would now be a shrunken troll."
"I am not speaking of a blood lineage. I am speaking of a spiritual one."
"The one that is established when the Apprentice kills the Master and takes the seat of power?" He laughed when Darra started. "The Sith think that they keep their secrets."
Darra was too shocked to respond. Was that how it happened?
Ferus laughed again. "You are so naïve, dear sister. Did you think Emperor Palpatine really just handed over power to Vader and died conveniently?"
"Perhaps I would have been better left thinking it," Darra whispered. I think you would have been, too.
"Which is why you remain a Hand while I soon will be Emperor."
"Maybe so. Maybe I don't know as much as I thought I did. I certainly don't know as much as you think you do. But knowledge doesn't make you less a fool, Ferus, it makes you more."
His face was contorted again, twisting in rage. "Watch your tongue, Thel-Tanis or when I become Emperor, you will regret that."
"If you become Emperor, you will only be one by name, never in truth. Remember? Always two there must be and Vader did not name you his apprentice."
"What do I need to be an apprentice for?"
"Open rebellion has never and shall never sustain us, all of us of the Force, both Sith and Hands. If the Hands decide in your favour, you will have to kill Vader. Alone. By yourself. The Hands will aid you by standing aside but that is all. If you will be Emperor over the rest of us, you will have to take down Vader without the rest of us.
"Think about that, Ferus. You will have to kill the Sith Master in single combat."
She smiled grimly as his face paled.
"And only a Sith can murder a Sith."
/
Hoth. Not so long ago.
"Why?" asks the broken man in the snow and there is a pain in his voice that can almost be betrayal.
He walks away. It has been many years since She died and thanks to her last gift he knows that the other will not die of exposure, or of starvation, or of the wound in his back.
He looks back once, and he can barely see the broken figure. The grey cloak now blends flawlessly into the landscape. Despite himself, he hopes.
Even after all these years of almost always knowing what the future will bring, the boy has not learnt to stop hoping.
/
Coruscant. Present day.
Darra was absent for the third Convening of the Hands that would happen in her lifetime. She would never attend another Convening ever again. At this very moment, her brethren were declaring her life forfeit. Technically, she was no longer even a Hand.
It was a big price to pay for what she was about to do. But she would not stand still and watch either Vader or Ferus destroy her world.
The cleaning droids had been in the dungeons recently. The walls and floor had been washed clean off the stains of blood and scorch marks and the place smelled strongly of antiseptic. She made her way past rows of cells and the moaning and emaciated arms coming out of them, until she reached her destination.
The Jedi girl sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed and her palms folded neatly in her lap, the very expression of serenity.
"Barriss Offee?"
Her eyelids flew open. A pair of grey eyes stared at Darra. Darra swallowed, as unnerved now as she was the first time. Then gracefully, she fell to one knee.
"Master Jinn, I need your help."
To Be Continued.