The Fountain Palace on Hapes rose high above the nearby city and jutted out over cliffs that plunged majestically into the ocean, and Demia Lohr, reigning Queen of the Consortium for the past twenty-nine years, tried to begin every morning with a walk along the private white-stone balconies that looked down on the cliffs. The sound of waves and smell of salt-spray always made her feel energetic and young, and as she neared her seventieth year that made them more valuable now than ever.
It was a good setting to receive her morning briefings, both scenic and hard to eavesdrop on. Right now her niece Lenor Chalk walked alongside her, sometimes checking her datapad but reciting most of her report from memory. Lenor was not a tall woman by Hapan standards but her regal bearing made her seem taller. Her smooth white skin, black hair and bronze-tinted eyes recalled what Demia had looked like half a lifetime ago.
"Ducha Tellor says she was able to quash the labor protests on Reboam by herself," Lenor was saying. "She'll continue to monitor the situation but she doesn't think she'll need to request our security forces."
"Good to hear," Demia said as she looked out at the ocean. "What about the situation in the Lorellian Reach?"
"We still haven't been able to track down the pirates. Ducha Reshul is requesting an additional three Nova cruisers to assist in the hunt."
"Ducha Reshul should have been able to find them a long time ago," she grunted. "Give her one cruiser. Task a few agents to begin looking into her activities quietly. See if she's started receiving payments from any questionable sources since the pirates began their raids."
"It will be done, Your Majesty."
Demia looked away from the water. Lenor was staring at her, expectant, wondering if her duties here were done. The queen asked, "What about my granddaughter? She should be finished with her business on Gallinore by now."
"The Palace hasn't received word."
"Then hail Serissa and tell her that her queen expects her presence soon."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Lenor gave a brief bow from the waist. "Anything else?"
Nothing for Lenor. Demia trusted her niece as much as she trusted anyone in the Palace, but the problem that had put her to brooding was not for Lenor to help with. Ironically, right now she needed help from the people she trusted least.
"You may go," Demia said.
Lenor bowed once more then hurried inside. Demia sighed and leaned onto the parapet. She watched the waves, the constantly shifting gleam of morning light. Court intrigues in the Hapes Cluster were as fast-paced as they were ruthless, but the ocean never changed. It made her trials feel small, which was sometimes disturbing and sometimes a comfort.
She tried to cheer herself. This was a position she had won through her own cunning and determination, one she'd taken from the Jedi cultists who'd domineered the Hapes Consortium for decades under Tenel Ka and Tenenial Djo. That she'd retained the position for almost thirty years was as much of an accomplishment as claiming it.
Sometimes she thought on her daughter Melor and her heart ached, even after sixteen years. She'd brought the girl up to be as strong-willed and clever as her mother, and it had been that loving weakness that had blinded her to Melor's growing ambition. Ordering her own daughter's execution was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Serissa was still young, but so far the girl seemed not to have strayed as badly as her mother.
At least, Demia hoped not. The prospect of destroying her own granddaughter made her wonder if all she'd done to gain the throne had been worth it.
When she decided she'd watched the waves long enough, Demia slipped away from the parapet and through the door Lenor had gone through. The chamber beyond was a vestibule with walls and floor-tiles all in gleaming white stone, and she made it halfway across to the opposite door when a chill ran down her spine. She froze in the center of the room, took a deep breath, and turned around, knowing what she'd see.
It took her by surprise anyway. Instead of one tall figure draped in black robes, face shadowed by heavy hood, there were two Sith standing side-by-side.
Not moving from her spot, Demia said, "Well, congratulations. You've surprised me. I was expecting you to wait until nightfall to skulk around my palace. Did you harm any of my guards?"
"They will never know we're here," said a deep, smooth voice she recognized as Darth Avanc's.
"Well, that's something." Demia folded her hands in front of her. "I take it you received my message and are here to help."
"We're here to listen," said Avanc. "And render assistance if we deem it necessary."
She fought a scowl. Having a Jedi cultist sitting on the throne of Hapes had been an insult to their entire civilization. Removing Tenel Ka and her daughter had been not only right, but necessary. Demia wasn't proud of the pact she'd struck with this other Force-cult, but over the past thirty years the Sith had repeatedly rendered services not even her most skilled agents could accomplish.
She gave her head a haughty tilt. A Queen of Hapes could look just as intimidating as a Sith when she wanted "Darth Avanc, are you going to introduce your friend, or do I have to guess?"
"Of course." Avanc raised both hands to pull the hood off his face. Demia knew it well by now; since the death of Darth Xoran, he'd been her primarily interlocutor with the Sith. Hapans had high standards for male attractiveness and Avanc would have won his share of admirers in the Court were it not for the violet tint to his skin that marked alien blood. For the refined structure of his face, black tattoos running in stripes off his chin and cheekbones hinted at a savage nature.
The hood came off the other Sith's face and Demia was surprised again. It was another male, almost human but younger than Avanc. He had no tattoos on his face but his skin was a deep blue tone, his hair a shimmering blue-black. His eyes lacked iris or pupil and glowed red-gold. Demia knew what Chiss looked like, though she'd never expected to see one with her own eyes. Their people were even more secretive and xenophobic than the Hapans.
"This is Darth Terrid," Avanc said. "I've decided he'll help you with your problem."
The Chiss said nothing but kept his glowing eyes fixed squarely on Demia. Unflinching she said, "Very good. Tell me, what do you know of my problem?"
"We know that someone has been trying to kill you," Terrid said. "You did not specify how, but we know there have been no violent attempts on your life."
The Sith always seemed to know what was going on in the Fountain Palace, even though they supposedly had no permanent presence on the planet. "You've heard correct. Of course, there's an infinity of ways to kill a person."
"What ways have they tried to kill you?" asked Avanc.
"Poison. Three different times now using three different concoctions. The first was a Triphenyl potion in my food. The second used Dreenan spider-fish blood in my wine. The last was tasteless Vergillian devil-grass inserted in a salad."
"Very creative," Avanc observed.
"Yes, and I had a different kitchen staff preparing every meal," Demia said sourly.
"You've interrogated them fully?" asked Terrid.
"Select staff have been questioned quietly. I'm not in the habit of advertising attempts on my life."
"Correct me if I am wrong," the Chiss said, "But wasn't a member of your personal serving staff recently hospitalized?"
Again, they were frighteningly well-informed. "After we caught the first attempt I insisted he taste-test my future meals. The poison snooper missed the spider-fish blood. He didn't. That was when I realized they were using very, as you said, creative methods."
"When was the most recent attempt?" asked Terrid.
"Three days ago. There's been nothing since then, but I've been preparing meals myself."
"What a trial this must be for you," Avanc said with faint mocking.
She sneered. "Persistent attempts on your life do wear you down. But you Sith wouldn't know that, would you?"
"Of course not," Avanc said firmly. "We are One Sith."
So he said, over and over. The Sith cultists from the stories Demia had read were always at each other's throats, apprentice murdering master over and over. Those stories had struck a little close to home, and she still didn't believe the Sith sheltered in Hapan space were the happy family Avanc liked to claim.
But there was no point in arguing that now. She said, "I'm requesting assistance. Will you give it?"
"What do you expect us to do, specifically?"
"Find who is behind the poisonings. Apprehend them. Deliver them intact to me."
It was how they usually did things. Demia planned to kill the plotters anyway, but she wanted to hear an admission of guilt from their own mouths. If the Sith handed her a body it would mean nothing.
Back when this partnership had started she'd known she could never trust these cultists any more than she'd trusted the Jedi. In the beginning she'd naively thought she could use her personal security team to clear them out once the Jedi were gone. Then she'd seen Darth Xoran in action; she'd stood by and watched as the Falleen woman personally outfought a Jedi Knight in a lightsaber duel, then delivered her an agonizing death with a blaze of blue lightning. After that, she'd realized the Sith were going to be around for a long time, and that she'd have to work with them and against them in equal measure.
Her security service was still useful. She kept track of their movements and knew most of them were holed up on the isolated world called Shedu Maad. That the planet had once housed a secret Jedi base was surely deliberate irony on the Sith's part. She knew other things too, including the names and often faces of their most prominent leaders, of which Avanc was one. She kept that information stored on a dozen individual communications relays inside the Consortium, all heavily encrypted and all programmed to broadcast to the Jedi academy on Ossus on the official proclamation of her death. The Sith knew this; they'd disabled four of those communication stations over the years but clearly knew there were more out there. It was the best insurance policy on her life Demia had come up with, and it had worked for thirty years.
"Is there anything else you wish us to do?" asked Darth Terrid. His presence unsettled Demia; for all her information-gathering she'd never heard the Sith had a Chiss with them.
"For now that will be enough," she said. "For the future⦠we shall see."
"Expect Darth Terrid to contact you next," Avanc said. "It shouldn't take long to find your conspirators."
"Remember, I want them alive."
"And you'll have them. Goodbye for now, Your Majesty," Avanc said. He and Terrid threw their hoods over their faces and backed toward the door out to the balcony. They stepped through; the door closed behind them. Demia fought the urge to follow them or to rush to a security station and see where they'd go from her private walkways. It would be undignified and more, pointless. The Sith could move around her palace with impunity and she couldn't stop them. That was the way it had always been. She wasn't happy about it, but she could accept that there were more important problems.
Picking the right battles to fight was the most important part of leadership. She'd learned that one long ago.
-{}-
The Fountain Palace was a cluster of domes and towers jutting out against the sea. Just as the inside was a maze of carefully laid security scanners, cameras, and traps, so was the outside. Getting in and out was always a challenge, but as Darth Avanc said, challenge was needed to keep a Sith sharp. Nonetheless, Darth Terrid was relieved when they ascended to the top of the highest spire above the Palace's broad domes roofs. The wind came on strong, snapping their cloaks violently around them, but at least there were no sensors or cameras to jam or evade. Further, the view of palace on ocean both was unmatched.
Darth Avanc settled into a cross-legged posture and Terrid did the same. The wind came in from off the continent, pounding their backs as they faced thecrashing ocean. Up this high the wind howled louder than the waves, but Terrid heard Avanc clearly as he said, "We will do as she asks this time. Find the one who is trying to kill her and deliver them. Stay in the Palace until it is done."
Terrid had expected that, but he wasn't looking forward to it. "Do you have any idea who is trying to kill her this time?"
"With so many options, I can't pick one." Avanc snorted. "Just do what you have to short of killing, Darth Terrid."
That wasn't helpful, but the Chiss nodded anyway. Wiping memories was a skill he'd mastered a long time ago.
"Will you go back to Shedu Maad?" he asked.
"For now."
"Will you take the ship?"
"I will."
So Terrid had to stay on Hapes until he completed his mission; either that, or he'd have to steal a ship to escape. He was still being tested, after all this time. The One Sith preached unity among Dark Siders but they trusted each other as little as the Hapans.
But no, that wasn't true. Those born One Sith trusted each other implicitly. Darth Avanc was one of those, as indicated by the striped tattoo-marks on his face. More, he was a near-human Keshiri, born from survivors of the so-called Lost Tribe of the Sith. Avanc's ancestors had been indoctrinated into Sith ways thousands of years in the past. A mere fifty years ago, his parents had emerged from their remote world and tried to destroy the Jedi Order. They'd failed miserably and the Lost Tribe had scattered. In time many of them had found their way to the One Sith, but only a relative handful had been deemed worthy. Avanc's parents had been among them, and he'd been trained in Sith arts since he was a tiny child, as the Jedi used to do with their younglings in the days of the Old Republic.
Avanc knew nothing else except belonging. Terrid had never known it at all. He'd spent only half his life among the One Sith and even if he spent the rest of it with them he'd always be a little apart. Before that, as a curious Force-sensitive among the Chiss he'd rarely known belonging, nor had he felt it during his brief years as a Chiss among Jedi.
But there had been moments: brief, fleeting, sundered in an instant. He still thought about them sometimes: Arlen Fel, Jade Skywalker, Jodram Tainer. They usually seemed like another man's memories, or like old holo-dramas he'd watched years ago and mostly forgotten. But sometimes, only rarely, something surged within him and he could remember what it was like to be among beings who trusted him implicitly and whom he could trust in turn.
But that was a long, long time ago. He'd never get Ran'wharn'csapla's life back even if he wanted it, which he did not. The Sith showed the way to greater power, greater strength, than the Jedi allowed themselves. For all their flaws they offered that.
Knowing that made his current task all the more frustrating. He asked Darth Avanc, "What's the latest news from Imperial space?"
"Why are you curious?" He thought he heard a little amusement in the Keshiri's voice.
"Nothing to do with old friends. I simply want to know."
"The raids continue. Darth Kroan says the Imperials have captured some of them but are no closer to finding out where the attacks are coming from."
Kroan was another One Sith who'd been indoctrinated as an adolescent, but he was older and more trusted by the born-Sith. Terrid frankly envied him the freedom to range out in the wider galaxy, working toward Lord Krayt's design. As a child on Csilla, Ran'wharn'csapla had dreamed of seeing the crowds and spires of Coruscant's planet-spanning city. So many years later, Darth Terrid had still never been there.
"The Jedi seem to have grown popular among Imperial citizens," Terrid observed.
"Only among some. Distrust of their kind runs deep."
"Are there plans to use it?"
"Of course. But we have to move carefully. After Senex-Juvex the Jedi are alert for any trap. We can't go around leading revolutions this time. We have to get the vermin to do it for us."
"Manipulating the vermin should not be hard."
"Don't underestimate them. We still haven't found all the data packages the queen would send to the Jedi after her death."
"Ah. So that's why we're saving her miserable life."
"That and we've found no better replacement."
"A Sith queen would be quite a prize. A shame Force-sensitivity is so hard to find in these worlds."
"They purged themselves of Jedi centuries ago."
"Wise of them, but bad for us."
"Indeed." Avanc sighed. "I know you think this is a petty job, Darth Terrid."
He didn't bother to deny it. "I want to build Lord Krayt's design. We all do. Sneaking through palaces, doing the dirty work for scheming vermin, it's beneath us."
"Yet it's work that must be done. If the Jedi do learn of our presence here, they'll spare no effort to destroy us."
"They have to suspect."
"Yes, but they don't have the resources to secretly comb every planet in the Hapes Cluster looking for us. If the queen dies they'll be spared the searching and we'll have to uproot ourselves again. This is as good an arrangement as we'll get with the vermin, especially clever ones like the queen. It's safer to preserve it."
Safe, Terrid thought. A very un-Sith-like word, but he took Avanc's point. Still, he wished he had other work to do.
Avanc rose to both feet. Wind whipped his robe violently around him. "Remain here for a while, Darth Terrid," the Keshiri said. "Once I'm gone, go back into the palace and begin the hunt. When you find the conspirators, let us know first, then the queen."
"Yes, Lord Avanc."
The other Sith gave the tiniest nod, then stopped off the tower and plunged. Terrid stared at the blue sky where he'd been a second before, then scooted to the edge of the tower and looked down. No living beings in sight, but then, the Keshiri had always been good at concealment. More than any other Sith, Darth Avanc had been responsible for training Terrid in the ways of their order. For a long time he'd resisted, but after realizing the power within he'd come to embrace the darker aspects of the Force.
He was still loyal to the One Sith, but their faults had been clear from the start. They'd been in hiding for decades and it had made them cautious. For a group that claimed it wanted to break the galaxy apart and remake it anew, the One Sith had spent a long time skulking in shadows. Lord Krayt remained in his isolation chamber, suspended in his dreams while other Sith did his bidding. Patience was to be admired, but timidity was not, and it seemed to Terrid that the One Sith had stood by and done too little as the Jedi worked itself into the good graces of Alliance and Empire both, even putting one of their own in power on Coruscant for over a decade. Again and again, the One Sith had balked from destroying her. Terrid had never agreed with it, but as an apprentice Sith he'd deferred again and again to Darth Avanc, Maleth, Wyyrlok, and the other senior Lords.
That would change. All things changed. A young boy had abandoned the only people he'd known to become a Jedi knight, only to become faced with the intransigent limitations and seemingly-inevitable failures the light side of the Force offered. Then, captured by the Sith, he'd resisted their indoctrination for years until very gradually coming to realize that their way offered the path to strength the likes of which neither Jedi nor Chiss could offer, the kind of strength he'd wanted all his life. It was a string of circumstance that should have seemed absurd, but it was the story of his life.
With that in mind, Darth Terrid had no doubt all things were possible.
