One More Drink Before the War
Chapter 50 / One More Drink Before the War
Revan tightened the cloth over the lower half of her face and pushed her goggles up to her nose. The Deralian shipyard was dusty, hot, and smelled like burnt air. Familiar as home, safe as a lie.
"What's that smell?" Korrie made a face. "The orbitals never smelled like this."
"Farming," Molla told him. She had a tight grasp on his hand as if she expected them both to run for it. Revan would be lying if the thought hadn't occurred to her.
Corellian disc ships were popular now. There was a row of them, brightly colored as jewels, baking under the red Deralian sun.
"You said that Jasp called," Revan murmured to Polla's mother. "I should… dissuade him from attempting to reach Sith space."
"Dis-suade?" Molla made the word stretch out, mocking, Revan realized, the way that she'd said it, or maybe even the word itself. "If what you say is true-if your Sith space is so hard to find-he'll be home soon enough. I don't need you giving him more ideas."
Revan's legs were still stiff and her back ached, remnants of the injuries she'd sustained in the fall from the skies. Doctor Sahara had recommended limited activity and lots of rest… but Doctor Sahara didn't have a duplicate of herself running towards Sith space to do frack knows what.
"What happened to Dancer's Leap?" she asked Moll. Polla had named her future ship when she was eleven. The full name was Dancer's Leap Across the Infinities of Space and the Whole, Darn Galaxy; but that had been too long for the real thing's registration codes.
"Leased," Molla said. "When Pollie stopped flying-"
"Oh." Of course. Her eyes followed the row of disc ships, looking for a squat and familiar triangular shape.
"May I help you ladies?" The Devaronian saleswoman had a datapad in one hand, and a laser pointer in the other. She smiled down at Korrie. "Ladies and young gentleman with baby? Looking for something in particular?"
"A Kuat Mark-VIII, with turbo and a decent rear turret," Revan told her. Dancer had never had any weaponry… but Dancer never went into Sith space.
Wherever the frack Sith space is. And how in nine hells am I supposed to figure that out?
Kashyyyk. Thought like an echo.
But it's not Mission. I don't know what it is, but that computer is-
"Hah, that's funny. You all lookin for something to cruise Defalli lanes in? Or somethin' more short range? Moon hops? Shopping at the outlets?"
"We'll let you know," Revan drawled. She'd shoved the goggles back down on her face, but she didn't like the way the woman was eyeing her.
"Kuat Mark VIII," the woman chuckled. "Good one. We don't keep any moonchasers here. We fly straight-up, vessels with all the emissions reqs for Core space!"
"Marks passed the Senate regs," Revan argued. The woman was testing her, fairly obviously, trying to assess her potential as a mark. "You probably don't have anything with firepower because you don't wanna pay the tariff on a Core-made export, right?"
"Hrm…." The woman's smile widened. "Are you planning on financin this purchase?" Her accent wasn't local. Which made sense, Revan realized, because there weren't really a lot of Devaronians on Deralia.
"Cash," Molla interrupted. "Cash and a clean registration."
"Of course." The saleswoman put one hand on her hip. "Our regs are all clean, but for the cash buyer, I might have something interesting. Military salvage. Not new, understand; but itis Kuati. Seats four. Not great for long hauls, but if you're only going to the outlets… it does have guns. Not much we sell has em-munitions are mostly aftermarket adds. But if you have credits, I can set you up with a real nice modding contact. He does most of his work off-license, that way he can work in some slugs and plasma stuff that isn't strictly boom, if you know what I mean…."
"Show me," Revan interrupted. "The ship you have. Show us now."
"Don't be rude, dear." Molla elbowed her. "I think she was just getting to that. Is it safe, this ship of yours? I don't want my daughter in anything rattletrap."
"It passed inspection." The Devaronian shrugged.
Daughter. But of course, the woman meant Polla. Polla coming back in the ship, not Revan at all.
"Show us," Revan amended. "Please."
"Deralians," the saleswoman beamed. "Takes you all so long to say please, doesn't it?"
"Not when there's something to be pleased about," Molla snapped. She took Korrie's hand, adjusting Abasen in his sling, and patted Revan on the back with her free hand. "Shake a stick and show my daughter this ship, why don't you?"
"You heard Grandmama," Korrie barked. "Show us."
"Grandmama?" Molla burst into peals of laughter. "Pardon my boy. He's watched too many vids."
"Gran," Revan murmured quietly.
"Gran," Korrie repeated. "You heard my Gran. Lady."
"That would be 'Miss Lady' to you, urchin." The Devaronian pulled an access key out of her pocket, gesturing them towards one of the locked hangar doors. "Funny story behind this ship…."
XXX
"I thought we agreed not to use this frequency except for text-" Revan breathed in sharply, trying to hide her surprise. "Oh."
Carth Onasi's face was taut with strain, even in the blur of the hologram. His voice was low and rough, almost whispered, and he kept looking to the side, out of view. The wall behind him was nondescript. Stone. Unmistakably Sith. He could be anywhere in Tenebrae's territories. Was he still with the smuggler? Was Malak there? Were they captives, or guests?
"It's… it's me." His voice was softer than it had seemed in the recordings. "Beautiful, it's me."
"Oh," she repeated foolishly. "Carth." Did the Fragment have some pet name she used for him? 'Darling?' Or 'Flyboy,' as on all the vids?
"In the flesh. If you want, I could show-" His voice faltered, and Revan realized she was doing a poor job smiling, that it was possible something in her expression had exposed her already.
I need to tell him who I am in a way that will not lead to betrayal. If I wait until he sees me-
If he was calling from Kaas, the room was undoubtedly tapped. If not by Tenebrae himself, than by others from the Dark Council. Revan had to be brief, had to give the man a warning. If he was comming now on this link, had he commed before and spoken to the Fragment? That other call, the one in the system near Rekkiad. It could have been him she reached? If so, he would know who Revan was, but not where his wife was now. If not… he would know the ruse the moment he saw her on Kaas. Carth Onasi's wife had two hands. An older face. And they-Revan had tried to mimic the woman's speech patterns, her carelessness of movement-at night, alone in her cabin where Seiran could not mock-but she doubted those efforts could fool the man the Fragment loved.
He may never be able to see his wife again, but I owe him mercy. A small one, at least.
She smiled at him kindly, trying to impart sincerity. "I don't suppose you remember, but we spoke once before. In the Jaxus Cluster. You did an excellent job on your Morgana, the day the Vengeance was lost. I… I told Rear Admiral Karath we needed more pilots like you: men and women willing to risk everything. Sacrifice everything for the cause… but also smart enough to survive the odds."
His face looked frozen, and for a moment, Revan thought she'd made a terrible mistake. One muscle in his jaw twitched.
"I named that ship after my wife," he whispered finally. "My first… wife."
"Is this comm secure?" She kept her voice low, trying to calm him. Without the Force, with half a galaxy between them. Impossible.
"I don't know."
It had never been safe to tell Malak, but Revan tried to give this man fair warning. "You know that you are compromised? My friend informed me about the Emperor's possession of your mind."
His lips pulled back from his teeth. "Do you know how to get him out?"
"If it were that simple, the galaxy would be an entirely different place." Carth Onasi didn't look like he understood the joke. "Is my... ally safe? My… my pilot wishes to know. I believe he's quite fond."
She glanced at Seiran, who sat at the nav board, arms folded, glaring back at her with an insolence she found disturbing. "Stay there," she muttered at the Deralian, away from the comm's mic. "No names."
Could she trust Polla's husband? She wasn't even sure if Captain Onasi understood who she was. Had the Fragment ever bothered to tell him? The man had been gone before Sheris took the holocron, before the Fragment left the Temple. Was it possible he thought his wife had taken the memories back herself? If so, the moment he saw her-
Her thoughts ran in useless circles.
"Ally? She's with your other husband," Carth Onasi snapped back at her, suddenly furious.
Good. So he does know me. And Polla Organa is with them-with Malak. That means Malak is there-
Revan smiled encouragingly. "Good. I look forward to seeing all of you. Alive."
The expression on his face bordered on subordination. Insolence. "I look forward to seeing you too-"
And then his features changed, mouth falling open, slack. That terrible blankness. Familiar, even across half a galaxy. There was a long pause, and she allowed herself a deep breath, quelling the useless fear that spiked in Sheris's chest.
"Hello, Revan." Even in the blur of the comm she could see the glowing eyes, hear the shift in pitch, see that familiar sneer on a stranger's face. "Are we done with the games? Are you finally returning?"
"Yes." She was all too aware of the pilot Seiran Wen, still standing to her right and watching, just out of the commlink's range. Don't move, she thought, not daring to gesture. "I'll see you very soon."
"Remember, I offered you another fifty years of freedom," the man said. "Informally, of course-nothing that binding in writing! But you and I have nothing but time."
"Unnecessary." Phantom, foolish regret. "You will leave my Telosian husband unharmed. Both of my husbands unharmed. And their companions."
"Yes… of course." Something there-a slight hesitation? Doubt? Fear? Revan didn't have time to guess. "You will expect Malak and this vessel to greet you upon arrival? We're at my summer palace, I'm sure you remember the way." He paused. "Your duplicate is vulgar, but I did grow fond. I hope we can find a place for her on my staff."
She made her words fall like stones. "I advise you to leave them all intact. I advise you to have them all at my disposal upon my arrival."
"Oh ho," he chuckled. "You think I would harm a hair on their heads?"
No, just sever their heads from their bodies and taunt me with them-a life for a life-
It doesn't matter. Even if it's Malak he kills-Malak is already dead.
Don't think of him. She realized her fists were clenched so tightly that her fingernails dug into the palms. We can play this game again, Tenebrae, but this time, I have nothing left. You threaten me with what I fear to lose, but this time my son is safe-this time the Fragment will protect him with all of her strength-our strength.
"I'll see you in two days." Her fingers were steady when she cut the comm's connection. She took several cleansing breaths before turning back to Seiran. The man was looking at her as if she'd grown a third head. "Well?"
"You let Carth Onasi think you're his wife?" Her pilot sounded angry about that for some reason, and not at all concerned that an immortal, ancient emperor wanted to keep his own wife as a servant. Had he missed that part? The Emperor was quite possessive. "Why?"
Obviously, I did not. Obviously, he knew exactly who I was. But in their brief time together, Revan had already realized that the Deralian was not a subtle man. "We had no time to explain, and we need his compliance."
"What happened to him-at the end? His eyes were… funny."
Funny. In a different context, it might have been amusing he thought so.
"Carth Onasi was possessed by the Sith Emperor. As I explained to you, he utilizes a process to transform sentients into His servants, subject to Force possession at any time."
"That's… it just... happens?"
"The Force possession? No. The process takes time." She frowned. "It will never happen to you or your family. I administered the vaccine against his Touch to you myself." They had been through this. She glanced at the nav board, checking the coordinates to make sure he wasn't attempting another betrayal.
"Thanks." Seiran Wen looked at her warily. "I think."
"I was only doing my duty." At his blank look, she continued. "Preventing Tenebrae from possessing worlds in Republic and Sith space by vaccinating their inhabitants." Or just infecting them. The original virus had a high mortality rate, but it did weed out weakness. Or, weaklings. Like Malachi. That thought was amusing. She smiled.
"With the virus you made. Yeah." He yawned. "You explained before."
Revan turned to the viewscreen, watching the monotonous swirl of hyperspace. In her own body, it always made her sick, but now Sheris felt nothing at all. "You should sleep," she reminded the pilot. There would be no piloting to be done until they emerged at the next jump point.
"For some reason, I find it hard to sleep around you." His laugh sounded hoarse. "Never know if I'm gonna wake up again."
"I wouldn't hurt you." Did he still think she would? "I would never hurt you, or your wife or child."
"Oh, yeah? You did. Strangled me. Pressed me into a wall, threatened my kid…."
He was just a man, nearly null. He could never understand. "I achieved the ends necessary using the most expedient methods."
Most expedient? Dark laughter, like an echo in her mind.
XXX
"Don't you think you're trying a little too hard to be Revan?" Beya's face, heart-shaped, an eyebrow raised.
"That's who he's expecting. Who is needed."
"We understand why you left the amnesiac back on Deralia." Vikor sighed and sat down in the rapidly-reddening mud. "Just rather less clear on how you plan to stop the deathless."
If Vikor were her subconscious, he should know. If he were real…. "I never used you for your grasp of strategy."
"That was more my game." Beya smiled, a little grimly. "Don't you think he'll notice your weakness?"
"I know how to distract him. And it's a Sith planet. Sith Lords are constantly trying to amass more power. My allies… artifacts… I'll find something. And Malak… is there. Or will be. He-he will help."
"Something," Vikor muttered. "Revan Starfire will find something. Another cure worse than the disease?"
XXX
My cure was the galaxy's only hope. But the distribution network was in tatters now, the Order in shambles, House D'Reev destroyed-
Destruction you caused. That voice. Was it Beya's? Her temples throbbed.
The Deralian pilot was stuck in the past, repeating the same argument he'd used, ever since Peragus. "You could have asked. You could have told the other Revan whatever's going on. You should have just asked both of us to help you!"
"There was no time. Not for Polla Organa. And it's safer that the Fragment never leaves Deralia. Never sees the Emperor or any of his servants again."
"You think handing yourself over to him instead will work?"
Revan looked at the pilot with surprise. Perhaps the man was more astute than she had assumed.
"Yes," she said. "I know him. This body is a genetic duplicate. Strength can be hidden-" a lesson she'd never had to learn when she was Revan; but one she had learned by watching her duplicate closely. "-Hidden or acquired. Tenebrae will believe his eyes, even if the Force says otherwise. He will believe in me because I know him."
"Then what am I supposed to do? I grab Polla and run?"
"Essentially, yes. I should be able to facilitate your departure."
His eyes narrowed. "Why the hells should I believe you?"
Reminding him again that he had no choice seemed cruel. Revan sighed. "Please. I have your interests at heart."
"Banthashit." He rubbed his eyes. "You just need me to fly this damn ship." There were shadows under his lids as if he hadn't slept in days.
Was she truly that terrifying? Revan smiled slightly, imagining what the man would have thought, had they met when she was Lord of the Sith.
XXX
"To continue with our discussion..." Master Klee with the glowing red eyes leaned across the table, eyeing Mekel. "Rather naughty of you, Malak, taking leave of my hospitality with your wife's duplicate. Are you ensconced somewhere in a romantic tryst?"
"Get stuffed," Mekel told him leaning back on the hospital bed.
Back on Kaas, Dustil's body was asleep, near-collapsed with exhaustion, as far as they could tell, and all three of them felt jammed into Mekel's skull here on Coruscant, trapped with a madman who wouldn't stop talking.
"Vulgarity." The Emperor sighed and glanced at his chron.
They'd been at this all night-a barrage of questions-interrupted only once by a nurse who came in to check Mekel's vitals. The asshole in front of him had compelled her away before Mekel even had time to yell for help-not that Malak would have let them yell for help. No. Every fracking time Dustil and Mekel came up with a sensible plan like, 'kill this asshole and get the frack out of here,' the Dark Lord of the Sith fracking nixed it and shoved them into a corner of consciousness.
They were stronger together; but with the bond stretched across a galaxy, Malak had seemed stronger than both of them, at first. As if the sight of his old enemy rekindled old hatred, fueling his power.
But now… finally, Malak was tiring and Mekel was here. In charge, with Dustil backing him like warm breath on his neck.
"Frack you," they both told the Sith Emperor.
"Your wife sends her regards, Malak." The smug asshole smiled slowly. "I just had the pleasure of her call. She looks forward to seeing you again."
Malak stirred, and it took a lot of effort to push him back down. Which wife?
"Frack you, sideways," Mekel yawned at Klee. "Did you guys have a commlink frack?"
Imbeciles! I need to know what she said! A pause. I need to know if it was Revan, or-
The other Revan? Sad, one of them thought. Jealous?
No. Mekel tried not to feel defensive.
I meant Malak. Dumbass. Dustil pulled their mouth with a smile.
"She requested your presence." Tenebrae chuckled. "I believe she wants both her husbands at her side when she enters the tomb."
Both husbands? He means my father? The spike of Dustil's fury would have been fracking helpful if they were allowed to kill this loser.
What fracking tomb? Mekel thought that was more to the point. We are not dying for this schutta!
What is your game, Red? Suddenly Malak was strong again, riding a wave of emotions too complicated and gross to parse, pushing past them and seizing control. Is it a trap for Tenebrae? Why did you send for me? Which one of you… which one of you ordered me?
Where is our son?
"Where is she?" Malak clipped out loud, grinding their teeth.
"In a ship. She says she'll be on Kaas soon. Will you be there to greet her? Will you come out of hiding for her?"
Yes, Malak thought, but he bit back the word, even as they laughed. "What of my companions?"
"The Wookiee and the Revan Pretender?" Klee's shoulders shrugged. "I presume you don't mean the Astro mech… what of them? Are they cowering in the forest with you now?"
"Perhaps. Their safe passage? Guarantee it."
Aww, look, ickle Malakins is all sentimental.
Maybe he's got a thing for Wookiees.
Well, that smuggler is hot. Mekel suddenly realized that on Kaas, she was curled up next to Dustil's body now, huddled for warmth between him and Zaalbar. He opened Dustil's eyes and blinked-
An eerie, bloodcurdling howl echoed faintly in the air. The trees sheltering overhead were black against a lightening sky.
"Huh?" Mission beeped softly, standing sentinel at their feet. "What the frack was that?"
"I-I don't-" their voice cracked like a kid's and Polla Organa stirred, mumbling something in her sleep. She twisted her fingers in Zaalbar's fur. The Wookiee sat up suddenly, reaching for his bowcaster and belt, upending her back onto the ground.
"Oww!" she yelped.
"Shhh," Zaalbar motioned his claws across his lips and the smuggler silenced instantly, looking to Dustil as if they knew what the frack was going on.
"What?"
"I don't know." It was Mekel answering. Dustil was testing the currents of the Force, and Malak was frozen, caught between the Emperor's maniacal laughter and that… sound.
Something about the sound made Mekel's blood run cold. Like being trapped in time again, with mad Uln's laughter.
Xxx
The room was perfect, Lydie thought. All chairs perfectly aligned around a circular table, all with varying views of the Coruscanti skyline. Rank, Azen's butler droid had informed her, was determined not by position, but by access to that view.
So put the Jedi by the windows but facing inward? Lydie Korr frowned. They were the least likely to be offended.
"Senator Loanin? There are some… guests to see you." The sneer on their courtier's Sullustan mouth betrayed all too well what the man thought of these 'guests.'
"Send them in." Azen looked older already. The smooth planes of his face were marred with lines of worry, and the Senator's collar looked tight and artificial around his neck.
Two weeks since his father and brother's unfortunate accidents had made Azen the First of House Loanin in the Coruscanti Senate, and as necessary as that role had been to assume, Lydie thought the responsibility set as heavily on her husband's shoulders as the arrangements with the Genoharadan that had disposed of his father and brother in the first place.
Were you less guilty of murder when you only arranged for it to happen? Or more guilty? Did guilt matter at all, when Jedi were vanishing across the galaxy and no one seemed able to help? Was their loyalty still to the Republic? Or the vanishing Force-sensitives that no one in the Senate seemed to care about?
Lydie's own moral reservations had ended when Thalia's cell in the Underground went dark. Some Jedi said they needed to gather to fight-even Master Atris had partially emerged from the shadows, sending a comm that encouraged swift action… but Lydie remembered the monster's languid touch in the Jedi Library, the sensation she'd had, all her limbs dissolving, her strength slipping away like blood in a warm bath.
If their enemy could sap away a Jedi's life with a touch, what could he do to a room full of them? Or a planet?
She and Azen were trying for a more subtle, yet efficacious, solution.
How could you fight a Force user who drained the life from all other Force users?
Not with the Force.
They needed the Fleet.
How could you control a military that had lost all respect for the Jedi Order?
By showing it the threat that only Jedi could fix.
"Admirals Ekkumi, Cein. General Sand." Azen had briefed her carefully on the latest Fleet promotions, so she spoke their titles with confidence. "Masters Vrook, Kavar. Padawan Ban." She brought her palms together in a Senator's bow.
"Lydie Korr," Yuthura Ban ignored formality, stepping forward and taking both of Lydie's hands. "I'm pleased to see you looking so well! You seem quite recovered."
Lydie remembered the last time she'd seen the woman, all of them evacuating from the D'Reev Tower, her hasty farewells to Thalia and Knight Shree.
Poor Thalia.
"It's Senator Lydie Loanin now," she corrected. "I am Second off my husband's House-at least until we have children."
The Twi'lek's eyes narrowed. "Of course." She squeezed Lydie's hands again. Hers were warm, almost hot. Twi'lek metabolism was faster than the Human baseline, which made it three times faster than the Standard Zabrak, although Lydie had always been told she was rather warm-blooded for an Iridonian. "Senator Lydie." Yuthura Ban pulled back, raising a brow ridge.
Loanin, Lydie thought. Senator Lydie Loanin. Even though Lydie Loanin did sound ridiculous.
"So sorry to hear of your father's death," Admiral Cein was saying to Azen.
"An unfortunate circumstance." Her husband turned to look at Lydie.
She wondered what her own mother would have thought of them.
Dear Ma, Would Da have killed to marry you? Azen's father objected because we are genetically incompatible and Azen got rid of him because it was the most logical choice to protect the Jedi-
"Please." She smiled politely and gestured at the round table they had placed in the room's windowed alcove, with views of the Coruscanti depths shimmering beneath. "Let's all sit."
There's probably some polite way Senators say that, although I don't know it, just like I don't know anything, and even through Azen says it's fine, I know that it's not. "We're just waiting on Senator Racharn and then we'll begin."
"Racharn?" Admiral Ekkumi frowned. "I don't understand."
"The First of Racharn will be joining us." Master Vrook muttered. "She has the information about True Sith from the D'Reev archives."
"Thank you for inviting her for us, Master Vrook," Lydie remembered her manners.
"The True Sith? Our enemy?" Admiral Ekkumi's frown deepened.
"So they appear," Master Kavar murmured.
"We have pastries," Azen offered them stiffly. He wore the Senator's role like a bad coat, Lydie thought, but it was brave of him to try.
Xxx
They spent a damp, miserable night huddled together under a large, drooping bush that kept making Polla sneeze. Or maybe that was having her face buried in the Wookiee's furry chest. She woke up in the morning when the warmth suddenly ended, ending a dream of falling into a rug with a dream of falling into mud. Reality was cold and dark, and something was making a horrible, bone-chilling noise, like one of the soul stealers Auntie Mita used to warn her about when she was bad.
Zaalbar roared something, and the Tee made a clucking sound, almost like a growl.
The noise came again, raising every hair on her body. Polla shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. "What the frack was that?"
Malak, or Dustil, or whoever he was, was already awake, staring thoughtfully out at the jungle like the Force showed him more than wet, green foliage.
" You make the caff yet?" she added when he didn't answer, tucking her cold fingers (even through the gloves) into the hem of her sleeves.
"Yeah." He snorted, gesturing to the empty air. "Did you want crema or suc?"
"Both." She shrugged, wishing it was true.
He turned to face her, shadows under his eyes. He'd be a handsome kid, maybe, if he ate something, Polla thought. "Malak thinks he knows someone in Kaas City who might let us hide out there. He thinks they're one of Revan's old allies."
"Thinks?" Okay. So you're Dustil? Are you not Malak? How was she supposed to tell?
"We don't understand half his banthashit." The kid rubbed his temples like they hurt. "He talks a lot. And it's weirder… sometimes, we just know… stuff."
"We… is you? Dustil? and-" it took her a sec to remember the name. "Mekel? The one whose da is Revan's uncle?"
"Yeah."
The Tee beeped. "What?"
"Thought you knew everything, Blue." He smirked a little.
"Not about that! That's kind of major! Vrook had a kid?" The droid whistled. "And that kid is you!"
"Yeah. Hey, do I inherit anything, if the galaxy thinks she's dead?"
The droid's dome swiveled. "Don't be dumb, this is no time for-" her voder broke off. "That sound again. What is it?"
A low, mournful howl, followed in quick succession by a series of gobbling yelps. Closer now.
"Frack," Mekel, or Dustil muttered. "Whatever that is can't be good-" And then his expression shifted, mouth furrowing flat, eyes narrowing as if he were seeing Polla again for the first time.
"Frack?" She prompted. "You were just saying-"
"No. Vornskr. A hunting pack." The voice deepened, words hardening. "Of course. I should have known. We should have pressed on during the night-"
"Oh, yeah? You were the one who called a halt!" Polla didn't want to admit she'd been tripping over her own feet at that point, adrenaline and hunger the only thing keeping her moving at all.
The kid-now Malak pretty obviously-grimaced. "This body needed to recover from the carbonite freezing. And you and the Wookiee were a danger to yourselves, blundering through Kaas jungle in darkness-"
Zaalbar growled something long and complicated. Polla only caught the word for disagreement.
"Oh?" Darth Malak turned to glare at the Wookiee too, which would have been funny if something called a 'hunting pack' wasn't out to get them. "Tree-sense on Kashyyyk isn't enough to serve on Kaas. You have no idea the manner of creatures that hunt here at night!"
The Wookiee barked a dismissal, and made a chuckling sound, deep in his throat.
The Tee made a sound like a laugh. "Good one, Big Z!"
It was annoying, being the only sent who didn't get Shyriiwook, but another howl interrupted before Polla could point that out.
"We need to move." When Malak was in control of the kid's body, he sounded like he was in charge. Polla found her feet following him through the underbrush, with Zaalbar on her heels. When she glanced back, she saw that the Wookiee had actually slung the Tee between the crossed straps of his bandolier, like a strange imitation of a baby's harness. Under different circumstances, she might have laughed.
"So these hunting packs… they roam the jungle?" She lengthened her stride trying not to puff with the effort.
"No. Not without purpose."
Another sound through the air, a long and deep 'woo woo.'
"Rallying call," Malak said before she even asked.
"You seem pretty sure they're hunting us. Back home, we had hunts for trawler deer and sikimaw snakes-"
"Vornskr track Force users. They have no other purpose." He had steered them back onto the main trail, somehow. "These are the Emperor's lands. Tenebrae is tracking me."
"Oh." She coughed. "Just you?"
"All of us," the Tee said. "But yeah, mostly him."
The kid glanced in her direction. "As you say. This road leads to the city. There are guard stations along the way, every two kilometers. You and the Wookiee must pose as runaway slaves, hope Tenebrae hasn't circulated descriptions, or that you don't run into one of his voices-"
"That's a lot of hope." Pose as runaway slaves? What the frack do the Sith do to runaway slaves? Polla had been to Ryloth, she'd seen the Pits. It couldn't be good. In fact, won't it be worse considering this is an evil Sith fracking planet?
The vornskr bayed again, sounding closer now, and every nerve in her body screamed to run. "Where the frack will you be?"
"Take that off." The dirtbag didn't answer. "The robes. Take them off. Hide the gun. Give me the lightsabers."
"They're valuable." It was a weak objection, almost a joke.
"Don't be a fool. Keep them and any sithling you meet will use them to gut you."
The Wookiee growled like he was actually agreeing with Darth Malak.
"They're right," the Tee added. "Lose the sabers, Polla Polla. This kind of place, weaker you are, safer it is."
Feeling like she was in another fracking nightmare, Polla did as he told; letting the Revan robes fall to the ground and leaving her standing there in nothing but her bodysuit skiv and the Sith boots. She grabbed the belt and took the blaster out of it. Shoved it down her left boot, where it dug into her skin. Tried not to shiver. "They take you and leave us alone? That's the deal? Why the frack is that the deal? What the frack happens to us then?"
"House Blais. They have apartments on Imperial Row. Go there. Tell them… you're an agent of my wi-of Revan's. I think they… I think they are allied, she never told me her plans, but she spent a great deal of time with one of their sons. He seemed besotted, and that House has some Republic connections. My father did work with them. Perhaps you can use the resemblance to Revan in your favor."
"What? That's it? That's your fracking plan?"
"Vornskr hounds only hunt Force users, but the Emperor's Hunt rides with other beasts as well. The Wookiee would be seen as a noble challenge. You will be fodder in their way." His voice was fracking giving her the creeps, low and guttural, with that stupid Core accent. "Tenebrae has spoken with Revan. He needs me for her. He does not need you. And my wife… may not have your interests at heart."
"You do?" She was getting pissed now. "How the frack do you know all of this?"
"Force bond. We told you." His voice changed, consonants slurring a little, dropping the accent like a bad ex. Now, he still sounded Core, but a lot more downmarket. "Klee's with my body on Coruscant. Emperor Asshole is fracking bragging right now about having Revan and Malak and getting his own fracking way about everything."
"Asshole," he muttered again-at almost the exact same time as the Tee said the word
The droid chuckled, which was really creepy.
"His own way to do what?"
Zaalbar growled something that sounded like a question too.
"I… don't know." Malak again. She was getting better at telling them apart. "I never knew. My wife kept her own counsel."
"Great." Well, whatever it was, wasn't Polla's problem. Galaxy was a big place. They couldn't frack up all of it.
"Go," he insisted again.
The howls were closer now. The sound made her spine prickle, warm rush of fear, like instinct. Run. Hide. Get the frack away-
"House Blais, huh? Okay." Polla took a few steps away, ready to go right fracking now… but the Tee and the Wookiee were having some kind of argument entirely in barks.
The Wookiee gave one last injured whine, and growled at Polla. His dark eyes were liquid. She only caught one word: "Follow."
"Okay…?"
No time. Crashing noises behind them. Snap-hiss as Dustil Onasi or Darth Malak or Mekel-from-the-Underground lit a lightsaber. The Tee swiveled behind him, and two blasters emerged from its chassis.
"Wait. Mission isn't coming?"
The Tee didn't bother to respond in any language Polla knew, just a series of shrill trills.
"No," Dustil or whoever said. "You're an idiot, Blue."
"Huh?" Who the frack was blue? She looked at Zaalbar, who had no blue on him anywhere.
The Wookiee growled back. This word she caught. Run. Go. Fast. It meant all of those things.
Go how? Where? Just like that? Polla was still scrambling for a response when Zaalbar caught her by the arm, lifting her like a coiled rug, and broke into a dead run, moving through the underbrush, carrying her like she was Abasen. He was fast, for such a huge, hairy guy.
Behind them, the howls intensified, and then stopped. One high, gobbling yelp… and then an eerie silence.
"Frack," she whispered softly. She twisted in his grip, trying to break free. "Put me down now, okay, big guy?"
"Ahhregg," he moaned. That wasn't a no, but she was pretty sure it wasn't yes, either, because he didn't let go.
Another howl again, then a whole pack of them, gibbering in the distance. And screams.
"I want to go home," she mumbled into his chest fur.
"Shheooog," he agreed.
Just when she thought she'd seen everything, Zaalbar slung her all the way over his shoulder like she was a kid playing sack of pomatos, and launched himself at the nearest tree.
Wookiees, it seemed, could climb trees very well.
XXX
For the first half, Leeshansintina, First of Racharn found the meeting with the heads of Fleet and the late Jedi Council a lot more boring than she expected. The refreshments were woefully pedestrian. The Fleet admirals wore civs-as did half the Jedi. The only one that was even halfway cute had this annoying, Rim accent. Where was Master Kavar Vakla from again? She looked down at her notes. Oh, yeah. Onderon. Big deal. Aramis took them there as an Away for her thirteenth? They'd done the beast-rider tour, flown with the drexl (on open hovercars, of course, no one risked a Senator's heir with savages), and Ismay had even snuck off and made out with this cute guy who said he was a prince, but turned out to be one of the kids who took in their luggage at the hotel. It had been, as her late mother would have said, "an experience," but not one she had any desire to repeat.
She drummed her fingers on the table-top, sitting next to her stealthed chap, stifling a yawn. Her eye caught the cute guy across from her on the table-the new Loanin First, who had the same cheekbones as his father, but was half the age. She smiled at him.
The rumors must be true about him only liking exotics through, because he just gave her a Selkath-eyed stare back. Cold, aquatic. Totally.
"How do you know?" That old, wrinkly Jedi Vrook Lamar interrupted cute Master Loanin again. "You claim there's proof of an imminent threat from the Sith Empire, but how do you know?"
The Zabrak Jedi wife of Loanin's smiled politely, and produced a round, old-fashioned commlink. She set it on the table. "We have evidence."
"Show us," one of the military guys said.
The other one, General Sand, who had been in the Official Coruscanti Story of Revan's Life, glanced rather pointedly (Leesa thought) in Leesa's direction. "We were told this meeting would be secure."
Leesa might have laughed, because if she totally wanted to, she could have had them all killed. Instead, she just smiled. "Don't mind me! I'm only here because Senate rules say you need a Ruling House rep if you're gonna be talking to the disbanded Jedi Council." She tried to catch Loanin's eye again, but he was staring at the pretty Zabrak he'd married (huge scandal, by the way). "House Loanin wouldn't count. They're not high enough ranked."
"Higher than we were," the Loanin murmured. His eyes were flinty. Pity about the wife, who sat next to him, all Zabraky. She had gold chains looped over her front horns. Vulgar.
"The First of Racharn is here because I requested her attendance," Revan's uncle said, which was totally why it was her here and not some other House, but the point was still Leesa's. "Racharn inherited all of D'Reev's effects, including their intelligence databanks." He rubbed the bridge of his nose like his head hurt. "She has information we need."
"Some of it's pretty out there," Leesa warned him, widening her eyes so he thought she was stupid. "Sith Empire stuff. You all do know there are real Sith, right? Not like, fallen Jedi-Sith. Like real Sith. Probably evil. A lot of them have like, red skin."
"So we've been told," the Loanin murmured. Was he being sarcastic? Or ironic? Most people didn't know, those were totally not the same thing.
"Malachi used to control a few of their media channels," Leesa added, because she was now a mature adult, and not going to sink to a Loanin's level. "Racharn does now, but most of the contracts are in this weird, crazy language and none of my counsel-"
"Ancient Sith," the Twi'lek's lips pulled back over her pointed, small teeth. "If your contracts are with Sith worlds, the contracts would be in Ancient Sith."
"-Yeah, so anyway, I put out an ad to find some counsel who speak it?"
"I speak Ancient Sith," the Twi'lek told her.
Leesa made a mental note on her virtual tab to find out the woman's name. "Cool," she said, smiling like it was no big. "You want a job? I can offer a generous retainer."
"The evidence?" Master Kavar interrupted. "I've seen it, of course. But the rest of you should."
"Lydie…?" The Loanin First sounded like he was giving his bastard Second Zabrak wife permission to move. They must have one of those relationships.
The Zabrak tapped the front of the commlink, and an image appeared: a cute, dark-haired man in a bed, with a bunch of kolto bandages packed around his body. D'Reev's old pet Jedi was looming over him, pacing back and forth. Took Leesa a sec, but then she got it. Mekel Jin. Dustil Onasi's old bodyguard. Revan's cousin. "This is a live feed," the Zabrak murmured. "Master Vrook had requested security detail on his son."
"You were monitoring my son's security cameras?" Master Vrook broke in, sounding pissed.
"Master Klee contacted Kavar and gave him the codes," the Zabrak corrected him. "It was agreed that we had a unique opportunity to see how the Emperor possesses one of his subjects-"
Xxx
"What did he say? The Emperor. What did he say?"
Mekel tried to sit up again, only sending a blinding knot of pain rippling down his side. "Master Klee. You... again." Finally. Maybe the fracking Emperor had to take a piss or something. "We lost track. There's a lot-" a part of him was standing with Malak and Dustil, saber blazing as they stood down a pack of vornskr, while around them a bunch of red-skinned assholes riding what looked like giant manka cats laughed. "Why don't you know what he says?"
"When he takes a body, he takes it utterly. When he leaves for another, he is gone entirely. There is no exchange." Klee glanced at the closed door. It had been ages since anyone even tried to open it. "A weakness. One of the few we dare exploit."
"That's fracking nice." Mekel blinked, his vision doubled. Sweet of Blue to stand off with him, but what the frack? Did Malak really think they were gonna take down all of these Sith? If Malak get us killed, it's all over. He felt… stretched, stuck in this body, as much as half of him was across the galaxy. "What... do you… what do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell Revan that we resist. That we will help."
Asshole. Mekel had to laugh. "It's not Revan who's on Kaas right now. It's this smuggler-Polla Organa? I don't know where the frack Revan is, but Malak and everyone seem to think she's coming-"
Xxx
Were they speaking in code? Leesa wished she had a trusted Second she could have sent in her place. This Jedi meeting thing was turning out to be more nonsensical than trade negotiations with Phin, and that said a lot.
"Polla Organa?" Master Vrook had a vein on his forehead that was kind of gross. "The Deralian smuggler is on Dromund Kaas? How in stars did the real Deralian become embroiled in Revan's affairs?"
"I thought she was dead," General Sand frowned. "Didn't your intel reports say Revan had her killed, Ekkumi?"
"It was the obvious conclusion."
"She wasn't dead," Vrook snapped. "Polla Organa was on Coruscant as recently as a month ago. But she had nothing to do with Revan. This makes no sense."
"And you knew of this how?" Master Kavar Vakla frowned at him.
"I saw her," Vrook muttered. "In the Underground. Poor girl."
"Unfortunate, but irrelevant," Loanin broke in. "Perhaps the Revans sent her in their place as a ruse for Tenebrae. To antagonize him."
"Or distract-" his Zabrakian wife murmured.
"More to the point: Malak's… ghost is on Dromund Kaas now?" Admiral Rew Ekkumi looked like that was a real possible thing, and not some crazy cipher.
The Loanin First coughed. "The boy said that Revan is going to Kaas? Which one?"
"Which one?" General Sand shrugged. "The one that's really Revan-not this Polla person you said is already there."
"He means which Revan," the Zabrak wife said quietly. "The one who destroyed the Star Forge? Or the one who was Padawan Sheris Loran, before she took a holocron of the original Revan Starfire's memories?"
"What?" Vrook's voice growled the word in a way that Leesa could totally have seen being hot, like fifty years ago.
"What do you mean, 'which Revan?'" Cein demanded. He was the not-cute one. "Are you telling us… not only is Revan Starfire not dead. But that there's two of her?"
"Three, if you count the smuggler," Leesa pointed out, but no one was paying attention to her, the highest-ranking person in the room.
Whatever. Revan Starfire was so last year. Even if she came back, House D'Reev was dead as a doormat. And Racharn had all their cards.
The room broke out in a gaggle of excited voices. Leeshansintina examined her nails. Chap's core was set on record. She'd sort through them later with her advisors.
Xxx
"This is the last hyperspace jump before Dromund Kaas," Seiran commented, as if Revan couldn't count. "If there's anything else I need to know, you should tell me now. When we get in their airspace, I have no idea what protocol-"
"I know the protocol," Revan told him. "We'll be hailed by orbital patrol upon approach. I will handle all communications. Your job is to land the ship."
"Right," he muttered. "Land the ship, find Polla, leave." It sounded like an invocation.
Revan walked over to him, trying to find words that would put him at ease. "She is now under my protection. Tenebrae will not harm her."
Unless he wants to send me another message… in which case, none of them are safe.
"Great," the Deralian adjusted something on the board. It appeared to be their gravitational thrusters.
The Fragment's personal commlink rang abruptly again. Revan didn't recognize the codes. It could be anyone-one of the surviving Jedi, her Uncle Vrook, the Fragment herself-
"Aren't you gonna answer that?" Evident from the scorn in his tone that the Deralian didn't understand the risks.
"You answer it, Seiran." Revan stepped to the side, out of view of its primitive camera. "I will cut the connection if needed."
"I-"
"Now." Thinking of Uncle Vrook reminded her of what she had not had the chance to say to him. Pointless sentiment, compared to what was at stake. "Please."
Seiran Wen eyed her warily, but hit the button to reply, as she had directed. "Hello?" It would help if he sounded more assured. "W-who is calling, please?"
"Me," a man barked at him. Revan stepped a little closer to get a better view. Beskar. Cropped hair. A lined, square face, familiar from the vids. "Where did you get this comm?"
"I-I have it." The Deralian was doing a good job of sounding stars-touched. Maybe that should be his excuse, and Revan should ignore this comm entirely. She had nothing to say to Canderous Ordo, and Oerin had asked her to leave the Mandalorians out of her plans. Given their relative weakness, it had been an easy enough promise.
She frowned, moving her fingers surreptitiously to adjust the camera's resolution with the Force. The background snapped into sharp focus: banks of glittering consoles, durasteel spires inset into the wall, set in a distinctive arch.
Her breath caught in her throat. How is this possible?
"Seiran?" A dark-haired woman came into the camera's view suddenly, crossing the floor to stand in front of General Canderous Ordo. She looked capable, with a child under each arm: one dark, one fair. "What are you doing? Did you kill Revan Starfire?"
Seiran looked at Revan as if he was asking what he should say.
How do you know the Mandalorians, pilot? It was a question for later, much later. Now-
"No," Revan told them, stepping into view. Again, she puzzled for precious milliseconds over the correct endearment. "Canderous Ordo."
"Third Wife," the man replied, in Mandalorian. The blonde woman next to him glared. Behind her, another two women, some infants, and a console bank with an arched, almost serpentine shape. Familiar. She could almost feel its cold slickness under her fingers. "I see that you're alive. Good."
S'cuy gar to you as well, General. "Good?" Her laugh sounded high and unfamiliar. She spoke in Standard, in case it was useful to have Seiran understand. "What in nine hells are you doing on my flagship?"
"Your Senator didn't tell you before his assassination?" The blonde-haired woman next to Canderous snorted. "We traded for it. We made an arrangement with Malachi: your son returned from the Jedi for this worthless hulk. In truth, we did your Republic a favor, taking it from them. They were making no use of it at all."
The Ordos were on the interior bridge-no sign from here of the damage Malak's cannon had done. Revan had an irrational desire to ask them to show her the main command circle, the place where she should have died, but she bit it back, focusing instead on the figures in front of her. Canderous Ordo had multiple wives, not uncommon, and they had been featured in the vids Davad had shown her, but she couldn't remember their names or station-
"See? Revan's not dead," the youngest woman interrupted. Her hair was loose, a surprising breach of protocol in stars. "Am I still to be doubly shamed if she's not dead?"
"Millifar!" The dark-haired woman holding the two babies put them both down. One rose immediately and began toddling across the floor. The other examined its own toes. "Let your father speak."
Father, not wife. Revan made a note. She had never paid attention to Clan Ordo's offspring, perhaps a mistake, given now-
"Where are you?" The leader of Ordo asked Revan bluntly. "Is Onasi with you?"
They know nothing. The Fragment let them go? With my flagship? I said I would let your Mandalorians run free, Oerin Lin; but The Aleema was not part of our bargain!
"No. Carth isn't here. Is the cloaking field operational on your ship?" Would they be loyal? Could she force their loyalty as the Fragment had?
But that was more than turning their own logic against them. That was… inspired. That man, Canderous Ordo. He followed the Fragment because of who she was, he-loved her, or she won his loyalty through combat, a show of strength, the old allegiance to Lin...
Ordo's loyalty could have happened in countless ways; but however it was done, Revan doubted it would transfer to her own circumstance.
"Yes," the dark-haired woman responded. A smug smile played around her lips, as she switched back to Standard. "The Aleema is fully operational. We could stealth into Coruscanti orbit undetected, were it required."
Seiran cleared his throat, as if he wanted to say something. Revan shot him a glare.
"No need for that… now," she smiled, making it a joke like the Fragment would have. "Have you given any thought to targets in Sith space?"
"Perhaps, but Clan councils are for Clan," the blonde woman said, folding her arms. "Are you returning to us to lead Clan Lin, Revan? Where is your son?"
"Safe." The word escaped. She had meant to dissemble, tell them Malachor was dead, but a weak part of her mind refused to voice the lie.
"We don't have enough ships for a true engagement," Canderous Ordo added, with surprising candor. "Yet."
The wife next to him frowned, glancing towards the other.
"Yet," Revan repeated slowly.
Xxx
The fire had dimmed to embers. Revan's hands crossed over her belly as she sank her cold toes into the smoke-warmed fur slippers that Headwoman Octiva had given her. They were the only shoes that still fit her swollen feet.
They said her time would be soon. They said she should send for her own clan, if she wanted them to be here for the child's arrival.
Revan had gone through the list of ways to tell Malak and Vrook a dozen times; but they all reduced to the same equation: Why didn't I tell them before?
To answer was to admit a fundamentally difficult truth.
These months out of time, while her son grew within (Stephonix's scanners said he was a boy-Revan could sense him in the Force, but the child himself had no conception of his own gender), had been one of the best times of her life.
The Mandalorians knew nothing of Padawan Revan Starfire, the strongest Force user in at least a generation. No fear. No awe. No sanctimony. She rarely used the Force at all here. Among Clan Lin, Revan was nothing more than a middling swordswoman, with a flair for languages and dejarik. Mandalorian culture had little use for anything it couldn't see or touch. This was the limit of their world: sun, sand, and crops. Their once-dominant military had been reduced to war games, festive sword dances. A part of her… a part of her wanted to live like this forever: raise her own son like the youngest child of Lin, the boy Oerin. A clever philosopher's boy, cloaked in tribal silks.
Sometimes she drew the Lin boy maps on the sand of a galaxy he never needed to see. Sometimes she answered his questions, because this was a place where knowledge of the outside galaxy, even of their own history, was nothing but abstract.
All that Clan needed, they had right here.
It was, she thought, a truth that Malak would never understand. She missed him, of course she did, but he-
"Don't go fireblind on us." Her host's low chuckle interrupted her thoughts. "Or catch cold. Octiva would have my hide."
"I'm not cold," Revan lied. Her hands and feet felt numb, with all her energies focused on the baby within, still in sleep, his fingers opening and closing like tanta blooms inside of her.
"No?" The Fett settled a fur robe around her shoulders and sat down next to her, stretching his own bare legs out towards the flames. "I was told you come from a world entirely covered in snow."
"Yes." She pulled the robe around her, wiggling cold toes in her slippers. "It's called Hoth. But I haven't lived there since I was… since I was a child."
"When I was a boy, we sacked an ice-world. Even ice burns, given proper tinder." His voice was light and teasing. If the Fett Cassus Lin hadn't been nearly Vrook's age and technically some kind of adoptive father figure, Revan would have thought he was flirting with her. "What makes an ice Jedi burn, Starfire?"
"You were a child during the Exar Kun rebellion?" She felt her face flush, even if among Mandalorians, it was men who were supposed to blush. "I took an elective course on military history, but I don't remember an ice planet-"
"Not every fight became part of the Republic's lies." The man leaned forward, warming his hands before the fire. "You're good with dejarik, but I suppose no one ever taught you how to plot an orbital relay with more than a dozen ships accounting for all vectors of approach-"
"The same as one ship, except for collision points." Revan shrugged. "It's only simple physics." Was this flirtation? Malak might have taken offense, but the Fett's interest reminded her of pleasing Masters Vrook or Kae more than anything else. "But orbital combat is nearly as much a risk to the attackers as to defense. It would be almost impossible to win such a battle, without contaminating the planet's atmosphere-not to mention the difficulty of approach for an attacking navy with no element of surprise. You can't just jump out of hyperspace above atmosphere-"
"You have studied." The Fett sounded pleased.
"My old teacher… she… she said we Jedi had a responsibility to understand all wars-the ones we had won, and the ones we lost."
"Had?" Cassus chuckled. "Do Jedi no longer have responsibility? Or are you no longer Jedi?"
"Neither!" Revan's voice was sharper than she meant it to sound. "But wars like that will never happen again. It was madness, what Exar and Ulic tried to do with their-"
"Their?" The man chuckled. "Dar'jett are useful, but the strength is Mando'ade. Ours."
"Was," she corrected him. It was cruel, perhaps, to correct him. Living among them for months had taught Revan how much Clan valued their pride. "You have no ships now. Not since the Treaty of Yavin."
"Of course-" His teeth glinted in the flames-
Xxx
"Revan?" Onscreen, General Ordo was frowning at her. Everyone was quiet. Revan wondered how long she had been silent. What she had missed.
Seiran's frozen expression gave her no clues. Had he betrayed her to them?
"I still… I may have a… a small target for you." Even at full strength, Aleema couldn't stand against Kaas orbital defenses, but with more ships, if they could capture or at least destroy some of the Sith manufacturing centers…. Orbital Factory Genika, over Thule. Do they still make dreadnaught shells there? With the Star Forge active, most of the Sith military complex had been disassembled-placing them suddenly in a world where manpower meant more than resources, but now… could Revan use the Mando'ade to cut off Tenebrae's strength at its head?
"A target?" General Canderous Ordo laughed. Unexpected.
"Are you joining us?" The blonde child interrupted. "Either fight by our side, or run away, like your pet Deathbringer-"
"Millifar!" The older blonde woman, face lined but near-twin to the girl's, turned her head sharply and made a slashing motion with her hand.
"She isn't wrong," the dark-haired woman interjected, raising an eyebrow. "Revan gave Ordo the mask of Mandalore. She ceded all rights. It is only through this marriage-"
"Not even a real marriage," the girl muttered sulkily.
"Milli," the man sounded more tired than annoyed. His eyes didn't leave Revan's face. Was it devotion? Or something else? Suspicion? Captain Onasi had known she was false instantly, had a face that expressed every emotion, but through a comm signal, Revan could tell nothing of this man at all. "What's wrong with your hand, Revan?" The old warrior leaned forward, face filling the screen.
She had forgotten. In the call with Carth she'd turned to have it concealed, but seeing the Aleema was disquieting and Revan had turned directly to face the comm. "An injury," she lied glibly. "It happened when we left Coruscant. I had it replaced."
"Huh." The man nodded and shrugged. "Looks like good work."
"It is quite functional," she allowed.
"My daughter saw General Surik," the man told her. "She was holed up on some moon, but she took off and ran. Millifar said she's half-mad."
"She ran like a scalded kath," the girl muttered. "And she hates you, Third Wife."
"Would you like us to pursue?" the dark-haired woman asked. "I am only asking from politeness, but we did trace her probable jumps. We have a few modified freighters capable of the task."
I'm sure you do. You were always a very clever people.
Strange, staring at her old enemies and hearing them address her as an ally.
"You… actually saw Meetra… Millifar?" She'd thought the woman long dead. So many dead. Was Surik like Davad then? Another Force-extinguishing threat to the galaxy? Their gifts had been similar once, before Malachor. After Malachor, seeing what Davad had become-
"Yeah," Canderous Ordo nodded slowly. "General Meetra Surik. You remember her, right?"
Xxx
"You remember her, right?" He kept his voice casual, as he let his hand drop to his side, not daring to give his wives more warning.
"Not… much." Her smile was stiff. "I remember… Malachor."
Canderous nodded. "Right."
Xxx
"He's a kid. Dustil Onasi is just a kid. They all are." Revan paced the length of the narrow cell they'd been assigned in the Dreshdae Academy like a leashed rancor, testing its boundaries. "All of these damn kids! What the frack am I supposed to do with them?"
A rhetorical question, Canderous was sure, but he tried to answer honestly. "They've been raised as warriors. Some we can salvage." Maybe Carth's kid. The boy had guts. "Kids can be pretty tough. You had a few that followed you in the Wars-"
"Kids? I had kids fighting for me?"
"They say General Surik was eighteen standard when she gave the order. My people called her the Deathbringer."
"Who?" Her brows knit together in a frown.
XXX
Revan could have learned the name from someone else. She had learned the truth about Malachor later, much later. But still, that… the arm… hadn't one of the Selkath survivors looked like Revan? Canderous had seen the reports back when he was playing Malachi D'Reev's lap kath. And hadn't that duplicate had her arm chopped off right in front of them?
And then Canderous realized the simple truth that had been staring him in the face all along.
XXX
The Hawk was empty without its crew. You could barely hear the Wookiee's howls over the comm chatter in the cockpit.
Revan had switched on all channels, releasing a cacophony of commands in a dozen languages and codes that she somehow seemed to filter, her hands moving in front of the holographic images on the screen.
Strangely graceful, like a dance in stars.
On the viewscreen in front of them, the skies above the Rakatan homeworld bristled with ships: fleets of fighters, Republic capital ships, and Sith dreadnaughts, all circling like purrgil, burning blast knew how much power just to avoid the planet's pull. There were firefights breaking out already, but their own trajectory was like the eye of a sandstorm, heading direct through chaos, straight to the heart of the spire-shaped fortress that swallowed half the sky.
Was Bastila doing this? Was Revan? Or was it just that neither side-Sith nor Republic-wanted to risk killing the woman who controlled the giant factory?
Canderous had been the man who told Vao not to be afraid. He'd been the man who'd called the pilot a friend, the old man a good drinking buddy, the Cathar a fine warrior. He'd called the Wookiee loyal and strong.
He'd been the man who had said that he'd follow Revan to the gates of hell too. It looked like now they were almost there.
Maybe Republic forces didn't know what she'd become. They'd let the Hawk through the blockade around the orbital she called the "Star Forge," with nothing more than good wishes and platitudes about the Force.
"Here." Canderous put the bottle down on the console. Revan barely looked up from the nav board. "One more drink before the war. You game?"
Revan's face was pale as Shan's now. So quick they could turn. Onasi once said it was like the flip of a coin. Light to darkness. Canderous had always thought the light and dark things were both banthashit, but now… what she was now was changed. How else to explain it?
Canderous wondered if this was how the old Fett had thought, looking at Ulic Qel-Droma when the osik led him into the Jedi's trap. What Cassus Lin had thought before Revan took him down.
Maybe he was an old fool, comparing himself to men. In his case, there would be no one left with songs to sing for his glorious death.
"Drink?" he repeated. Her eyes were strangely luminescent, tinged with yellow.
"Yes," Revan muttered, and took the bottle from him. The muscles in her throat worked, pale, deceptively fragile. One quick, deep swallow. Canderous wondered if he'd be doing the galaxy a favor if he put a vibrosword in her chest before she put the firewhiskey back down… but he knew her well enough to know he'd die before the blade cleared its sheath.
"Here." The second had passed and she was passing the bottle back, strangely cold where her fingers had touched its glass.
"Thanks," he said. "You know what to do?"
How are we going to die today, Revan?
"I'm going to kill Malak." Her eyes… maybe it was the light. She licked her pale lips, glancing towards Bastila, who sat oblivious, eyes closed in the co-captain's chair. Maybe Princess Shan was doing something to keep fighters off their tail. Canderous wasn't sure. "You should… follow."
On the viewscreen in front of them, a Republic hammerhead locked on a Sith interceptor. The slow depressurization of both ships began. Canderous muttered a deathnote for those poor bastards trapped like womprats inside, all their fight useless.
At least I won't go like that.
Revan blinked, and moved the thruster to the right, so their own ship avoided collision.
"Don't worry," he told her, half-joking. "These tubs can't catch the Hawk. There's only ever been one warship built for speed as well as firepower. Not a ship in this sky was ever as fast as your Aleema. Not one."
"My who?" She frowned. "My what?"
"Aleema. Your flagship. Twice the size of those kriff-spawned pieces of osik and three times as fast-"
XXX
"Canderous?" Her face was blurry in the comm's light, face of the pilot behind her a stranger to Canderous. Aemelie had told him, confessed finally. Some Deralian saps. If this woman had the husband, he assumed the wife and kid were dead.
She didn't know the ship. She's never known the ship.
On Coruscant, Aemelie had peppered Revan with questions about the Aleema's schematics, but she had never remembered a thing.
Such a simple thing. Canderous should have seen it before. The real Revan. Her child. Onasi…?
Already dead. They must be. She would never stand for this. Never give her comm to an imposter.
No one would pretend to be Revan and head to Sith space to be (as Carth would put it) 'on the side of the angels.'
Canderous felt his face fall into grim lines. "Just let us know how we can help, Revan. Let us know what you need."
"Yes," she murmured, instead of laughing incredulously at his concern, telling him she 'got this,' or rolling her eyes. "I will. Thank you."
A chink in his chest tightened. Canderous felt his mouth twitch once. It could be that he would never know their fates.
One more drink, pilot. Before the war.
He would toast honor, against a veil of stars.
XXX
"I... will," she told General Ordo. "Thank you." Revan punched the connection closed, leaning forward, and resting her forehead on the cool surface of the board. I will, General Ordo. If I can trust you. She wanted to trust him. The Fragment had. The Mandalorians would be useful, even if speaking to them brought up a strange mixture of bile and fear in her throat, like she was a child again, facing down her first battle on Eos.
And I promised Lin I would leave them. She owed the dead man nothing, but he was a better ally than enemy, and Aleema only one ship.
They would hate to be safe, but let them be free.
"You okay?" Seiran, behind her, like a shiver in the Force. Terrified.
"Start the next jump," she commanded. "I… I need to rest."
XXX
"Did you get a trace on that location?" Canderous barked.
"Yes," Aemelie murmured. "But she said she doesn't want our-"
"That wasn't her," he snapped. "I'm not sure who that was."
"But that was Seiran," his Second Wife argued. "Are you saying my friend's husband is following a Revan pretender?"
"I'm saying we're testing our cloaking capacity," Canderous told them. "In Sith space. Figure out her probable jump points and get some lines on local chatter. If she's traveling as Revan, there'll be news. Find it. Get the translators booted for Sith." Blasted dar'jett and their forgotten tongue. But his people had made a study of the basics, at least. Enough to find this false Revan, if she was mentioned.
"Sith space?" Gwenarius's voice dripped with false confusion.
"I won't beg for the women's maps," he muttered. "You can tell me I've been among barbarians for too long again if you like, but have the children load the nav charts. Have you found a suitable base?"
Gwen glanced at Aemelie, who smiled slowly. "In fact, we have."
"One with historical significance," his First Wife murmured archly. "Much more temperate than Rekkiad or the Deathbringer's moon."
"Good." He nodded.
It wasn't vengeance he sought-merely a balancing of the scales.
XXX
Which Revan? Which Revan? Vrook's mind seized on that point like it had the inertial gravity of a collapsing star.
Azen Loanin had said there were two.
Two Revans. There was only one way that could-
Across the table, his eyes met Yuthura's. She gave him a pained nod, as if she was surprised too. "The holocron," she said softly. "Sheris Loran took the holocron of Revan's memories."
The holocron. Of course. Sheris told us all her intentions, but we were fools to think those were empty words. I thought she was too broken to find the courage.
I underestimated her.
Guilt nagged at him, for the girl he'd neglected to save. No. For both girls that I neglected to save. Sheris and my niece both-
Xxx
"Goreapple pie and crema. No choc." The dormitory window reflected his useless, fool's smile, but Vrook couldn't stop smiling as he handed her the plate.
His niece smiled back. One of her teeth was growing in crookedly. There had to be a way to have that fixed. "You remembered, Uncle Vrook!"
"Of course."
They had only been on Dantooine a few days, and her apprentice robes looked too large. Her nose was sunburned, her hair scraped into a tight braid, like a red rope down her back.
"Happy Birthday, Revan."
She was ten, the oldest learner to be accepted in years, except for that Senate brat from House D'Reev. But Vrook didn't think the boy would last. Malak was strong in the Force, but wholly unsuited for the life of a Jedi-spoiled and demanding-
"Uh-huh," she nodded at him through a mouth of pie. "I hate it here, Uncle. When can we leave?"
Xxx
Sheris took the holocron's memories.
Master Loanin seemed quite sure of it, even as he denied knowledge of how this event had occurred, or under whose command. Sheris's own initiative?
That poor girl. Vrook had spoken with Sheris's parents again after the D'Reev explosion, promised to look for their daughter. He hadn't known, but he had hoped she was with Revan, that the both of them were together and safe somehow-if only to assuage his own conscience.
Their mutual disappearance seemed to indicate something far more sinister.
"They were working together?" he asked Master Loanin, interrupting Cein's paranoid rant about some pirated Republic ghost ship that had been seen in the Mid-core. "Revan and Sheris? You're sure?"
"I am sure of nothing, but it seemed so." The former Jedi-turned-Senator frowned. "The woman I spoke to was most definitely not Sheris Loran. I did not know the real Revan personally, but this… persona had an independence of character that seemed in keeping with accounts of the Sith'ae'rah's nature."
"You should have mentioned this sooner," Vrook snapped. He felt blindsided. He had wanted Revan to return to herself, to have a true redemption; but not at Sheris's expense. And now-
Why didn't she come to me for assistance? Did she try?
"I did mention." Loanin paused. "Master Kavar and I have discussed the potential ramifications at length, but since you remained in hiding, we did not discuss them with you."
You also never discussed putting surveillance in my son's room with me, or your plan that involves these three Fleet officers… and my niece! Vrook glowered at the younger man; but it was useless to belabor the point now. Not when there was a Sith Emperor out there, making Force-users disappear. Or worse.
"Do you expect us to remain calm that the two Revans' plan may involve the lost Sith Empire, the Mandalorians and, if Vrook's son can be believed, the ghost of Darth Malak?" Ekkumi's voice was dangerously calm.
"Master Klee encourages the boy to extract as much information from the Emperor as possible," Kavar said. "I told you, despite being possessed, Dalos Klee is on our side." He gestured to the screen, where the Jedi was still talking to Mekel Jin.
Or talking to Malak. Or Dustil Onasi. Vrook had seen enough of the recording to see the shifts in voice and vocabulary. Malak was easy to distinguish; but it pained him not to be able to tell the difference between his son and the Onasi boy.
Admiral Ekkumi stood up abruptly, sending her chair clattering across the cold metal floor. "Our side involves sending two Revans and a Malak to the Sith home world?" Her voice sharpened. "Am I the only sentient in this room who objects to this… insanity?"
Vrook almost missed it, the exchange of glances between Loanin and his wife, her small smile.
"No," he muttered. "You are not."
"We don't know where that Sith homeworld is," muttered Cein. "Still." He turned to Kavar. "You promised to reveal its location."
Kavar nodded. "Leeshansintina of Racharn possesses the charts we need to find the Sith Empire."
The Racharn First giggled. "It's like… pretty far," she commented. "I can see why they were such a secret. Totally out in the dust-like, past the Rim."
Loanin folded his hands. "Racharn First has agreed to provide us with navigational charts, but any kind of invasion would be foolhardy before we assess their forces-"
"Does Klee have information about that?" Ekkumi walked over to the window, her fingers tapping slowly on her thigh. A military code, Vrook assumed. Some communique to Cein and Sand. "About their military?"
"They have no Star Forge. The remnants of the Sith Fleet vanished over Malachor after Revan ordered them there-" Kavar had the aptitude for this. Vrook had lost his taste for it long ago. "At the most, five or six capital ships?"
"I wouldn't underestimate a few systems of Force users," Yuthura murmured. "Their strength will not lie with tech."
"You would know." Ekkumi's laughter was brittle.
"Yes." Yuthura's lekku were wrapped around her neck. "And I am concerned as the rest of you at the thought of a Darth Malak reborn. I served under him. But my students have the strength and self-control to use his power, not be consumed by it."
"None of us are pleased by the concept of a Darth Onasi or a Darth Lamar either," Kavar snapped.
"Jin," Vrook snapped, taking the bait, and berating himself for it at the same time. "My son has his mother's surname. Not mine."
"Darth Jin?" Admiral Cein sniffed. "It sounds like a drink." He shook his head. "After their… antics at our last meeting, I am convinced those two are only a threat to themselves. But Malak, if he were to retake command of the Sith Fleet-"
"I worry more about the Revans doing the same. Possibly with Mandalorian assistance." Ekkumi put one hand on the ferraglass, fingers trailing across its surface.
Kavar coughed. "Revan is a concern. Malak… may not be."
"They have no self control." Vrook stared at the image of his son. No manner of wishing it otherwise would help. "My son and the Onasi boy. Malak's force of will and purpose is stronger than theirs." He had watched enough of the recording to see again and again, how the glowing-eyed Sith Emperor taunted Malak into his son's body. The boy was obviously powerless to resist.
Nothing more than a pawn. Like they made my niece with their mindwipes-
His thoughts were dark, darker than they should be. Too attached, too engaged.
Kavar raised a comm unit to his mouth and whispered something in it.
The door to his son's hospital room slid open. His son started on the bed, and Klee's head turned. The nurse who entered was carrying a long oblong box.
"What's this?" Vrook found his voice.
"An experiment," Kavar said. "We are all concerned about the possibility of a Darth Malak on the Sith homeworld…."
Xxx
"What the frack is this?" It was Telos asking. Mekel was busy trying to help Malak and Blue kill vornskr and not die. Harder, because a part of him-or a part of a Dustil maybe-couldn't help but keep staring over to the cluster of sents that included Dustil's father, chained like a joyboy in the back of an open speeder manned by two red-eyed and red-skinned assholes.
Their timing and concentration was way off. It was fracking hard being in two places at once and-
Leave me. Malak was pissed about the company, but Mekel didn't want to leave Dustil's body alone with him. Klee seems to be stalling for time-
Aren't we stalling for time too? Polla Organa and Zaalbar had gotten away clear, Mekel thought, although neither Dustil or Malak had seemed thrilled when he pointed out they'd dumped two nulls who didn't speak Ancient Sith on an ancient, Sith planet. Thank frack he and Telos could handle it, although since they knew what Malak knew, maybe they could speak all types of things, like the way Shyriiwook actually made sense-
"No." Malak dispatched another hunting beast with a two-handed undercut, leaping in the air and sending a volley of lightning at another one. Weird feeling, feeling your-Dustil's-body move like that, and have no control. This is a show of strength. Tenebrae will respect it. Respect us, if he thinks we are stronger than the rest of his minions.
Great. Like being back at Dreshdae finishing academy again. Mekel looked over at Dustil's father before Malak jerked his head back towards the advancing threat: a massive, burled creature with a small head inset into its plated skin, claws the size of fracking kids, dripping with dark ichor.
"Terentatek," Malak called out. His voice was mocking and hard. "Only one, Master?"
Master? Frack you both.
It puts him at ease. Malak's hatred burned, like raw power in their hands.
"Only the one." Glow-eyes laughed. "Proceed, Lord Malak."
"Frack you," Mekel told him, gathering strength for the leap.
Xxx
"Mekel?" Klee touched his arm.
Dustil nearly jumped out of their skin. "What?"
"You seem… preoccupied."
"No." Their head hurt. When Dustil closed his eyes he was there, and he didn't want to be. Seeing Dad like that-completely helpless, like a Sith frack toy fueled an anger he wasn't sure he wanted to unleash. Mekk thought they could handle it, but maybe Mekel couldn't feel it the same way. There was a… power on that planet, like weaves of Force across its surface, fueled by all the hate and rage and pain-enough to break a planet maybe. Unleashing it would be like tumbling into space.
No going back.
"Your Emperor seems pretty busy right now," Dustil told him, but Klee was unsnapping the box from across the room. "That why I'm stuck with you?"
"Ah." Klee didn't answer. Instead, he turned, pulling out what looked like… a stick with something small and furry stuck on the end.
Ysalamiri. Dustil remembered the ones in the D'Reev apartments, the kid mixing poison with his tears.
"What's that for?" he asked.
"Master Kavar asked me to conduct an experiment." The voice was kind, detached, like they were in class talking about meditation techniques. "As you know, ysalamiri range is quite short-"
Xxx
Master Klee took another step forward. The boy on the bed sneered at him with an expression that Yuthura thought more Onasi than Jin.
Another step-and then, the boy's expression went slack. Blank.
"What is he doing?" Yuthura demanded. "Are you trying to prevent Tenebrae from interrupting them?"
"No," Kavar said. He leaned forward. "Vrook, you said before that Malak was able to keep possession of the Onasi boy even through the D'Reev ysalamiri fields, through neural disruptors. I posited that the same might not be true for Jin-"
The blank expression twisted, and the boy inhaled sharply. Not boy. Man. My son. He had looked so small and shrunken on the hospital bed. "Wha-" his eyes seemed to focus. "Telos? Where-"
"Mekel," Klee repeated.
This time, the man just gaped at him, mouth half open. "Yes, I…" he shook his head. "You need to put me back!"
"In time," Klee murmured. "Give it a few minutes. We need to be sure."
"Sure of what?"
"Sure of what?" Yuthura echoed. "By suppressing his connection to the Force, you risk disrupting the Bezel bond-"
Kavar smiled thinly. "Exactly."
Xxx
Killing a terentatek was apparently fracking easy, because Malak and Mekel had done it in like two minutes, while Dustil had been wondering what fresh horrorshow Master Klee, the Sith lackey had in that fracking box.
The corpse was huge though, blocking off half the hunting party. But then a few pushed through the crowd. Sith wannabes, Mission would have called them, but the droid pretending to be her wasn't even calling out insults, just generating shields and laying down suppressing fire when it looked like Dustil's body needed it-he'd gotten that much of the fight through the bond.
Thanks for leaving me to clean up the fracking mess, Mekk.
Thanks for leaving me with your dads and fracking Sith Lords while you check out my enormous fracking co-
It felt like a hand slipping out of his grasp, fingers letting go. Suddenly, Mekel was just… gone.
Dustil looked down at his hand, now holding the lightsaber in an unfamiliar grip. It didn't even feel like his hand, his body-
Where is Mekel Jin? Malak's voice thundered in his mind.
Great, so he'd lost his best friend, his bondmate, and kept the Sith Lord ghost who destroyed Telos.
"I don't know." There was a row of Sith in front of them when he turned. Dear old Dad still chained to the speeder. And a red-skinned man wearing a crown perched on top of a fracking… what the frack was that?
Gundark. But Malak sounded distracted. Distant. It wasn't exactly reassuring that he was worried too.
Mekk? Nothing. Was he… was he dead?
Is that him? Is that Tenebrae?
I don't…. Fracking Malak of all people sounded freaked. Mekel Jin is not in the Force.
So, dead? Dead? Is he dead?
Silence, long enough for Dustil to notice that they were surrounded, that Dad looked older and tired. Long enough to notice the strange echo in his head-the emptiness. A sudden silence.
I am… free? Malak sounded farther away suddenly. How did this…?
"Don't." His own voice. Alone. Suddenly horribly alone in his head. Holding the lightsaber like it was someone else's dick. Standing in front of a frackload of Sith and Dad-
"Where are your companions?" The man on the gundark sounded amused. "Did you dispatch them yourself, Malak? I rather enjoyed the Revan pretender. She had spirit, for a null."
"I-I…" the man meant Polla and Zaalbar, not Mekel and Malak. "I… don't…." Dustil's voice cracked like he was still a kid. He felt sweat break out on his back. Suddenly his legs felt rubbery as if Malak and Mekel leaving had taken all of their strength with them.
His father was frowning at him with that whipped kath look he got when Dustil disappointed him. "Tenebrae," he barked-guts considering he was chained and surrounded by fracking Sith. "Now you've got us. Maybe don't damage the merchandise before Revan comes to inspect it, huh?"
That fake casual voice. Same one he'd used on Korriban when he tried to pass himself off as her slave.
"Will you lay down your weapon, Malak?" The man chuckled. "I spent so much time in your first body… but your mind was always so opaque. Unpredictable, save your allegiance to her. Ah, but when that failed-" he laughed. "You were so good at destruction."
Malak? Come the frack back? Now? "Oh, yeah?" Dustil took a step back, even though he knew it made him look weak. "Get fracked, asshole."
The droid whirred next to him, swiveling it's dome around and emitting a quizzical doo-weet.
I am free. Malak's voice. Definitely fainter. Like farther away.
No, Dustil thought uselessly, even though he'd dreamed of this. Please. Don't leave. I don't know what the frack is going on-
Master?
In your fracking dreams, Malak. Malak?
But Malak didn't seem to be talking to him. The bond felt like a thread, like half of it was gone. Dustil reached for it and dropped the lightsaber.
Frack. Frack me. No. Mekel. Mekk? Malak?
The droid beeped again.
Someone was whistling at it. It took Dustil a second to focus, realize it was his father-
Xxx
"Frack you!" When he launched himself in the air, Mekel felt the stitches holding his guts in rip, white-hot pain, like getting fracking stabbed with a saber-but Klee was a fracking idiot, just standing there with his fracking ratroach on a stick and Mekel tackled the larger man easily. Klee was soft and fleshy and out of shape and old.
One of Mekel's hands buried itself in the Eosian's throat and the other ripped the ratroach off its perch and threw it against the wall. Hard. Like slamming a slug back home.
The thing made a… screaming noise. Then a whimper that made Mekel feel almost sorry for it. But then it died… and everything came back like the ocean, rushing over him like a wave.
He'd never seen a real ocean, but Telos had in their dreams.
The world had color and form again. His heart seized and shook, realigning itself with the one a galaxy away. He was standing in a clearing, staring at the terentatek they had killed. An asshole on a gundark was leering above them. They were surrounded by minions.
Malak's power snapped back into their grasp, like the spark of a light.
"Ow," Mekel whispered, fingers sliding over Dustil's abdomen. Pain, but no wound.
You were gone thoughtyouwere goneforever. One of them thought. Maybe both.
I'll neverleaveyou. I- "What the frack was that?" Telos asked even as Mekel answered him silently.
Fracking asshole. It was Klee. He did something. We need to kill him.
"Malak?" The man on the gundark said. The Sith Emperor coughed. "Is there a problem?"
Xxx
Malak was almost proud of Jin, moving with flawless grace, the power of the Force helping them dodge the beast's deadly claws, his former protege wielding their lightsaber as if he was Jedi-trained.
I was Jedi-trained. Your wife taught me a few things, she- the boy's attention splintered. What the frack is in the box?
Pay attention! Malak commanded, but the boy's balance was off now, and he had to dispatch the terentatek himself.
And then-between one second and the next there was no warning. Just-suddenly he was falling free.
Mekk? Mekk? The boy was calling for his bondmate like a lost kissra, but it took Malak a moment to realize that he could hear Dustil only from a distance. Even the jungle surrounding them, the Emperor, his court… all of it faded into patterns, meaningless forms.
Shadows and light. He tried to breathe and found nothing at all. Stars, like the last ones his human eyes had seen, dying on the deck of the Star Forge, while she stood above him.
"I'm sorry. No."
"Malak?" The boy again, thread pulling him back, but no longer tethered. A connection that felt as fragile as flamesilk. Like strands of her hair.
I am free?
"Oh, my Padawan." Soft laughter through the trees- trees? Endless trees, grass under his feet. The world seemed solid, but strangely soft, more like a memory or a dream than a place.
Malak turned his head. "Master?"
"Jopheena," she corrected him, still just out of sight. "As good a name as any. It will do."
"He doesn't look like much," commented another voice. Dry. Male. Soft burr of an accent marking the man from one of the farming worlds-
Xxx
"I am free." His mouth spoke the words, but the pain in his gut belied it, weight of gravity, lying crumpled on the floor again. Coruscant. Klee gasping for breath in the corner of the room with a rapidly-darkening ring of bruises on his neck.
"I was… I was… free." Mekel Jin's stitches were torn again. The pain was a tool and Malak used it, pushing the boy's body upright, standing. "What in nine hells was that?"
"You tell me," Master Klee murmured, eyes narrowed. "Malak?"
"Yes. I-I was free. Of them. For a moment. The bond between us was... gone." His gaze took in the room again, focusing on a crushed scrap of fur, the bloodsmear across a wall. An ysalamiri? But I was surrounded by them in Dustil's body before. How could that disrupt the bond?
"You were correct." Master Klee sounded smug, turning to look at the mirrored wall near the fresher door, and Malak's gaze noted the slight shimmer, the surveillance equipment stealthed, just a slight difference in the wall's texture, if you knew what to look for….
"Who?" He demanded of the Eosian. "Who is recording this? Who are you talking to?"
Xxx
"It works," Azen Loanin said. "I believe it worked." He glanced up from a small datapad in front of him. "Monitoring Jin's alpha waves-the sine curves dropped their frequency threefold-back to baseline. Normal."
"Meaning it was just him in there." Kavar nodded slowly. "Your hypothesis was correct. And now?"
"Now they are back to three," Lydie Korr said, sitting next to her new husband. "But we did not expect this to permanently break the bond."
"But now we know the means to do so," Kavar said.
"Meaning?" Admiral Ekkumi asked.
"Meaning… we can send Malak back to hell," Admiral Cein said. "And free Carth's son."
Later, Yuthura would chide herself for understanding so slowly. But it had never occurred to her that such a thing could be done. That any Force user would conceive of such an atrocity.
Strange, that she who had committed so many atrocities could still be surprised by such an obvious conclusion.
"There is a complication." Lydie Korr sounded like a girl who had kept her head in books over life, never considered the consequences of her actions. "The ysalamiri create a powerful Force-blocking field that a neural disruptor cannot match. But we can't keep Mekel Jin in an ysalamiri prison forever. He's a Republic citizen. He has rights."
Her husband frowned, as if he wanted to disagree.
"Severing the Force connection broke the bond." Vrook sounded as surprised as Yuthura felt. "Temporarily. But your intention is to-"
"Yes." Kavar nodded at him. "As before."
"This is what you refused to tell me." Vrook Lamar's anger was quiet, but intent. It felt like a cloud in the Force. A darkness. Yuthura wondered if he realized. "This is why you colluded with Klee. Did you tell him?"
"Of the theoretical possibility."
"My son is not Qel-Droma. He's not even Surik. Mekel has done nothing to deserve this!"
"It isn't Mekel we need to stop." Kavar said flatly. "If there is even a chance that Revan and Malak could rise again-"
"No." Yuthura found her voice. "Even if it were possible to find a Jedi capable of performing the… the... act, you can't do that to Mekel Jin. I made them strong to survive. What you are… suggesting would not only cripple him, but would strand Dustil Onasi on a Sith world in a weakened state-"
"Your Bezel ceremony made the two of them a conduit for a Sith ghost," Loanin corrected her, with a curl of his lip that made Yuthura wish she still had her headmistress's lash-at least for a moment. "Severing Jin's connection to the Force sets them all free."
The man was insane. "Sets them free? And severs our only connection to the events on Dromund Kaas! Right now, we can use Mekel's connection. What you propose would blind us."
Vrook nodded slightly, slightest of gestures showing his accord.
"We still have Klee and his network," Loanin continued. "Much of the resistance was organized under Revan. It remains uncompromised. Klee has provided us with a list of his contacts."
"You assume," Yuthura snapped. "And if the Revan with Revan's memories of that network resumes control of it? Or allies with the Emperor against us?"
"Malak should be dead." Admiral Cein had served under him. Yuthura remembered that useless fact from her own lesson plans, teaching their Korriban students the histories of the Mandalorian wars. "This is all very damned simple. Malak should be dead. You Jedi can fix it. You need to."
Kavar's lips thinned, but he said nothing.
"You asked for our help tracking this Jedi-killing emperor of yours?" General Sand leaned back in his chair. "This is our price. Get rid of Malak. Send him back to hell where he belongs."
Lydie Korr frowned. "We don't think it's the Emperor who is killing Jedi-"
Her husband leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, and the Zabrak stopped speaking.
"Not Tenebrae, perhaps," Loanin amended. "But some of his allies."
"How?" Yuthura snapped. "How do you take away someone's Force ability in the first place? No one since Nomi Sunrider-"
"No." Vrook shook his head again. "Find another way. The ysalamiri cage. Leave him in it for a week. A month?"
"We need to be sure," Cein said. "If you want Fleet help, you want our networks, this is our price. Get rid of Malak. Now."
Xxx
"The frack?" Mekel's anger propelled him back into control. "Who's watching us?"
"The Jedi," Klee said. He smiled ruefully. "Or what's left of them."
Fracking Jedi. It chilled Mekel's bones to the marrow that they could just… do that.
Let me handle this. Malak broke in. I know Klee. They'll want us to retrieve information for them. We can feed them what they request while still maintaining the advantage for Revan-
The frack? Dustil's and his own indignation spiked. My father's right here! We are taking him and that smuggler and getting the frack off this fracking planet-
No.
"Son." Captain Onasi was wearing some kind of metal… shirt that wouldn't have looked out of place back at Moms's. Neither would those chains around his hands, leading to a brace across his chest. They'd moved, when Mekel had been distracted back on Coru. Now he was sitting in the speeder next to the man.
"Dads. Dad. I mean."
"I'd hug you, but…." His father raised his chained hands. The speeder lurched forward, driven by invisible command. From the dark currents around them, Mekel thought it was the Force-not from his father, of course, but from one of their silent escorts around.
"It's okay." He bit his lip not to say 'sir.' Telos was listening to another crazy glow-eyed lecture from Tenebrae, who'd popped back into Klee, just as the man was maybe about to tell them who he worked for, what was going on.
"Are you… you're you?" The Captain's eyes were lighter than his son's, but they had that same piercing directness, like he could see everything Mekel was.
"I'm… it's complicated. Yes." They were split, like Telos could only deal with his dads if Mekel was the one talking, but he was here too. He glanced back for Mission, and saw her, braced firmly in the back of the speeder. Mud on her dome now, and something that looked like vornskr blood.
"Complicated?" she purred. "No poo doo. You have no idea how hard I've worked, trying to get an outside line to Kashyyyk!"
Xxx
The world was empty of all sentient life once more. A virgin chalice. A vessel, serene. For thirty thousand years, Kashyyyk had been free to conduct its own experiment, create a new slave race of hunters that were furred and strong… only to see them finally cast their lot among the stars. It had conducted this triumph while also performing its network subroutines; as well as repairing other faulty installations with new sentient pieces as needed. It had suffered predation. Corruption. Even the whims of a tyrannical adolescent holocron with no understanding of the larger songs of the universe.
It had endured the Master's return, and his degraded impulses. It had fulfilled Dromund Kaas's irritating requests for additional parts twice in little more than one thousand years. The parts were delivered. Both times.
It was not Kashyyyk's concern, if the Dromund Kaas installation could not get the second part to fit. It had told Dromund Kaas this several times already.
{{Silence,}} it now told the adolescent fragment of itself that was pestering from Dromund Kaas, presumably on the installation's behalf. {{Your requests are petty and jejune. The other parts of yourself have gone, and I am not your personal commlink.}}
The adolescent piece had several inventive things to say in response, in many of their shared tongues.
Xxx
The ship was alone in the hanger, small and sleek, its metallic surface reflecting their own expressions back at them. Revan saw her own face half-hidden by goggles, the dyed black hair, mouth set in a thin line, no expression at all. Next to her, Korrie and Ma- Moll- were beaming. In the sling on Moll's hip, Abasen's eyes were as wide as thisla globes.
"Gah!" he crowed, pointing at the ship.
"That's not Republic salvage," Revan said quietly. "It isn't from Kuat." But it was beautiful. Lines like a song. Polla Organa-the real one-would have loved the design-and been scared to hell of its purpose.
"No?" The Devaronian's voice sharpened. "Crashed here during the Revan invasion, my boss said, I just assumed…."
"It is based on a Republic design. Loosely. I-I think." Some long-hidden memory-her own, or just Polla Organa's exhaustive knowledge of ship architecture. This ship was little more than a modified snub: cabin big enough for two seats fore and two aft, with a small galley below, plugged up against its hyperdrive. Four sets of turrets. Torpedo bays on the aft. One had been used, Revan noted. The other looked intact. "Originally… based on a Republic design, but it…."
It felt like something in the Force. There was no other way to describe it. Familiar.
She could fly it. It would practically fly itself.
"What do you mean, Pollie?"
Molla was overdoing it, Revan thought. All this mother and daughter stuff. She appreciated the effort, but it just made leaving Korrie harder. Leaving them both harder.
"Is it Sith, Mother?" Korrie still sounded like he belonged in an Eg Academy. Molla would have to work with him, she'd promised, and when Jasp came back-
XXX
"I could comm him for you. I could tell him to come home."
"You've done enough!" Moll's voice softened. "Leave him, dearie. When he gets tired of looking for that silly Sith world, he'll come home on his own." She paused. "Did you figure out how to find it yourself?"
"Yes," Revan lied.
Fairly simple. All I need to do is find a Sith.
XXX
"Is it Sith?" Korrie repeated. "That ship? Because it looks kind of bad-aeye."
"Korrie," Revan frowned, glancing at Molla. "Don't curse."
Polla's mother snorted.
"Of course it's not Sith!" the Devaronian sounded horrified. "Maybe one of the… one of the Republic's more... experimental models. I was… I was a tech, you know. I mean… in Fleet."
"On The Ascendant?" But Revan knew the answer without asking. She smiled to put the woman at ease, reinforcing the sentiment with the Force.
I am no threat. There is no danger here. I do not look at all familiar. You will give us this ship for a very good price.
"Yes, The Ascendant," the woman agreed. "I was… on this ship. From the… Ascendant. We… we crashed here."
"I'll take it," Revan told her. "Do you still have the nav logs?"
Fear warred with artificial calm on the woman's horned face. "No. We-I wiped them. When we… we left."
Frack. But no matter.
Revan walked over and placed her hand on the warbird's cold, metal surface, reaching under the nose to find the embossed runes, stamped in Aurebesh-and Ancient Sith.
Pinion V
Property of the Imperial Aleema.
