Chapter 35
Thera felt herself coiled, ready to spring with the power of the dark side, built up by her anger for her master's fate, her lightsabers humming as a mere extension of her arms and her will. Cupera had recovered herself quickly from her severed toes and stood over A'pratti'ka poised to put her out of her misery. Thera could scarcely feel the agony of her master as her life began to slowly ebb away, but she also felt Cupera's effort to harness her own pain.
She wanted to fight for her master, but she couldn't bring herself to jeopardize her master's life further. She knew that many a Sith had destroyed their masters, but sometimes they became allies, or merely escaped each others' wrath. Though her master had challenged her usefulness more than once, they had been powerful allies, and she still had much to learn from her master.
"Your move, apprentice," challenged Cupera, one blade over A'pratti'ka's head, the other she wove in a figure-eight pattern to her side. "Your thoughts betray you, so choose wisely!"
Much of the blaster fire had subsided as the handful of survivors slowly realized what had been happening, now that both A'pratti'ka and Cupera were too preoccupied to sustain their Force illusions any longer. Shyk rolled over in the rubble that was once his throne. He groaned and then lay still for a moment before beginning to slowly work his way to his feet. His mind seemed dazed and terrified within the Force, probably not even seriously injured, a far cry from the ruthless confidence from earlier.
Thera looked around and found the Zeltron as he was forcing himself to stand at last despite his own lingering pain from his severed forearm. He waned a bit on his feet for a moment before he knelt to recover his blaster from the clutch of his other hand. She could feel much of his familiar fire gone out of him, survival being more prevalent in his mind than fighting. She felt caution and worry emanate from him through his telepathy. She looked back at her master. Her solid red eyes were closed, her mind still active in the Force, but she could not quite sense… wait…, I know what she is doing, she thought remembering her training, and immediately shut down her thoughts. She extinguished and carefully stowed her blades, and focused her mind directly on Cupera.
"Very wise, apprentice," declared the Askajian, "and you will very soon be mine!"
"Answer it!" bellowed Oblivia. Subtyr's holo-comlink had chimed and begun blinking. She glared down at him as he lay severely injured on the floor, her lightsaber humming as she pointed it down behind her leg as she contemplated second guessing this new line of thought spurned by new currents in the Force. Subtyr could only groan.
After battering his will to defend himself, which had been considerable, Oblivia had begun systematically destroying his biological systems. She could leave, and he would die, with the Force as his only hope for survival, or she could finish him off. But this incoming transmission could make everything a little more fascinating. She had intended on completely exterminating his will to live to match his withered formidability as a Sith Lord. Her disgust was growing over his growing depression due to his failure with both the catalyst and the saboteur.
The Sith Empire was prepared at last to press its domination of the galaxy into the Core worlds and break down the Jedi-led Galactic Republic. Thanks to the brilliant coordination of Darth Durus, many Sith Lords in this part of the galaxy, along with their resources and magic, had been polarized into an unstoppable offensive against the Republic.
With this catalyst, though, acting to suppress the inevitable destiny of the Sith like a deadly virus, Durus has lost men and valuable auxiliary resources trying to run down this plague, she thought, Durus' time might also be due to expire. And Oblivia was prepared to act by whatever means would be necessary to inaugurate the true understanding of the Force over the entire galaxy. The time for waiting was past and gone.
The Force was with them, and now she could feel the dark side tugging at newer ways to ebb and flow than she had been anticipating. Oblivia could not resist an opportunity to proliferate the use of the dark side. Go ahead, answer your mistress' call… this will be good!
"Has this been verified?" asked Commander Hoim'n. The Chief of Damage Control Central had just delivered a updated report based on findings throughout the ship from recent routine maintenance.
"Yes, sir. I had various personnel conduct independent cross checks at key points throughout the ship. The data is correct, sir."
Hoim'n finally pieced together the main plot of the saboteur's intentions. He had not suspected such a widespread effect on the ship, nor had he realized the depth of the saboteur's effort to bring about these results demonstrated by the Damage Control Chief's report.
"Very well, Chief; thank you! Carry on," he said trying to suppress his amazement from this new realization. The chief was a hard worker; all of his engineering personnel were extraordinary technicians. Few people knew the details above the rumors that had escaped about the existence of the saboteur. He had managed to keep those relatively safe within his circle of engineers; I still can't believe they're gone!
After their massacre, the admiral had formally counseled him to focus on moving forward in spite of the loss of his men. He had put much effort into identifying, training and gathering what may well have been the most gifted team of engineers in the entire galaxy. Those men had the capacity to solve any dilemma and innovate any miracle or advancement into any starship's technological infrastructure.
The admiral's message was clear, though, and the safety of the ship and her crew was still at stake. The urgency of the mission and Hoim'n's passion for his duty to the military had enabled him to move on and set his emotions aside. It took years to assemble that team of experts… I will take time to mourn their loss later, he had told himself after listening to the admiral speak.
But now the loss threatened to flood back into his thoughts as the data they collected materialized into a larger puzzle with other phenomena happening in other parts of the ship that he had not even guessed before. Two more explosions had occurred in some of the instrumentation processing bays, and more would happen just like it. Hoim'n knew that the ship was in serious shape if he failed to act quickly, but he also wanted to avoid alarming anyone too soon; chaos was the last thing he wanted to create, and the ship harbored enough chaos already.
He stood from his work station and calmly walked toward the corridor exit. Once the door slid shut behind him, he broke into a run, as much as he could within the confines of his uniform, freshly pressed for the banquet earlier with Durus. I'm so going to work out first thing tomorrow; this jog shouldn't be this exhausting, he thought.
He broke through a couple of officers walking slower than he was moving, shoving them into the wall... I know them, and I'll apologize to them later… and knocked down a green-skinned Twi'lek as they rounded the same corner in opposing directions. But he did not say a word and maintained his haste. He finally made it to the executive turbolift and was grateful for the chance to finally stop and catch his breath as he waited for it to open on his deck, and then further regulated his breathing as he waited for it to reach the bridge. The engineering office is too far from the command bridge; I should put in for the starship design corps after this tour.
The turbolift doors finally slid open to a command bridge unusually filled with technicians and officers huddled around various consoles. He spotted the Officer of the Deck, he must be a new transfer; I don't recognize him… another junior officer…, …he looks so young…, and asked about the Admiral's whereabouts.
"All of this commotion, sir," began the Officer of the Deck, pointing out the clusters of personnel, "is waiting to see the Admiral. I have been under strict orders not to disturb him."
"But…," began Hoim'n.
"He's in a meeting with the Sith Lords, sir," interrupted the Officer of the Deck with a commanding tone.
Hoim'n inhaled deeply. Impressive authority… he certainly has guts.
"Very well, then. Notify me the moment this meeting is over. I have grave news…."
"…as do the other department heads, sir. I will recommend an executive meeting at the soonest opportunity; you will be paged."
He will truly go far in the Empire...
"I will be waiting," said Hoim'n with a gesture. The junior officer turned away without further acknowledgement and began barking orders for status updates of various systems.
…as soon as he learns more respect for his betters… he'll get it soon enough!
Hoim'n turned back and waded through the maze of personnel toward the turbolift. He would need to find and compile compelling data for his hunch and be ready.