Heyo! I'm alive and still kicking. I hope ya'll are staying healthy and somewhat happy during this mess of a year. However, on the very real chance that you aren't, I have a shiny new chapter for you to enjoy. So, sit back and enjoy. Without further ado, I give you chapter 7...

The air was cold and stale. The thump of Luke's footsteps echoed out through the oppressive darkness. The plan of waking up to clear skies had failed. He had blinked open his eyes to the same howling winds that had tucked him into bed the night before. Restless and unwilling to just sit and wait, he had begun his march into the structure. The prospective Jedi felt the air continue to chill with every foot of ground that he covered. Soon, he found himself fishing a light coat out of his pack before continuing on.

As time wore on, his mind began to grow numb to the grotesque imagery on the wall. The writing was a script that he couldn't hope to interpret while the carvings mixed with the statues in a never-ending string of unpleasantness that led him further into the blackness.

"Blast it… Of all of the places to get lost."

Luke paused. Standing before him was an intersection where two passages met before disappearing into their own all-consuming voids. Luke shined his light down each path and shrugged. All that greeted him was a dusty haze and more of the same angular passages. He reached out into the Force. Luke shivered as he felt the Darkside instantly envelop him.

Go straight… Less chance of getting lost.

The idea came as a whisper, barely audible in the back of his mind. Suitably convinced that he had come to a conclusion himself, Luke continued on. Time continued to march on, and his thoughts began to wander. He thought of Vader and his confrontations with the Sith. Vader had been there from the beginning. He had killed Old Ben and ordered the murder of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Following the destruction of the Death Star, the man had hunted him with reckless abandon. Then, suddenly, he vanished. As abruptly as the chase had begun, it had ended. Vader had burned his way halfway across the galaxy, only to give up the hunt for months. It wouldn't be until Hoth the following year that they'd be in the same system again.

Vader was never your father.

Luke had pondered the thought before. Vader had to be lying. He was just trying to get into the kid's head the only way he knew how to.

"But he is my father. I felt it," he argued with himself.

You were lied to, just like they all lie to you.

Luke hesitated as the words crossed his mind. His skin crawled as he glanced back over his shoulder. The thought had been so intrusive, the venom so strong, that it had jarred Luke from his thoughts. Not everyone lied to him.

"I have people I can trust," he muttered as he forced himself to continue on.

Then tell Leia about your father.

Luke let out a sigh. That was something he certainly couldn't do. Luke trusted her, but that… well… He didn't trust her that much. The admission was a tough pill to swallow. Luke felt the stab of pain as he mulled the problem over. Of course, that was a different issue than if she were to lie to him. He knew that Leia was hiding things from him; everyone had their secrets. He just hoped she wasn't keeping him in the dark about something that could have changed things.

He shook his head and continued walking. He wanted-no he needed to finish this task so he could get back to the fleet. They needed him, and here he was scrounging around a maze that seemed like it was endless.

He scowled before taking a deep breath and sinking into the Force to try to release his emotions, which was hard because he immediately felt bombarded by Dark tendrils that came from all sides. He tried fending them off, tried to run away from them, and even tried to call upon the light to help him, but nothing worked. The tendrils had thickened now, and hands seemed to come out of the ends. His eyes widened in horror, but he couldn't do anything as the hands grabbed him in a durasteel Grip. He tried to shake them off, but they didn't budge.

So… a Jedi has come to my sanctum. A voice sounded in Luke's mind, feminine, powerful, and so Dark. Darker than even Vader. He nearly threw up at the feeling he got from its Force signature. Seeking knowledge, are you little Jedi? Forbidden knowledge?

It pulled at him, trying to break down his shields, which he dumped all the energy he could muster into to keep them up, but it was becoming harder to do even that.

He knew he shouldn't respond to it, but he couldn't help himself. "I seek the exit to this maze," he revealed. "My guide is waiting on the other side."

The presence increased its pressure on his mind. He grunted, still keeping the dark from his mind. Your guide, hmm? The voice purred, and he shivered. It felt so Dark, so wrong that he just had to get away from it, but couldn't move at all. And who is this guide that seeks the knowledge of the Sith? It tightened its grip on him, and he had to struggle to even breathe.

With the physical distraction, his mental defenses crumbled, and his mind was open to the Dark presence. He groaned as he felt it rip through his mind, finding out everything about him that it deemed noteworthy.

It hissed at something it had found, and before Luke could even register what it found, the presence spoke one word, and that was all it needed.

Sleep, it crooned.

And he did.

∫∆πµπ∆∫

Vader picked through the library with cold detachment. The darkness pouring out of the old manuscripts and ancient datapads only fueled his determination. Unlike Luke, he felt no fear here. The Darkside was familiar. It was home. The Sith combed the records with reckless abandonment, even as his own concerns for Luke nipped at the back of his mind.

He won't survive.

Vader twitched as the voice whispered in his mind. However, he refocused his mind with a simple grunt. Vader had finally found something of note. He wasn't about to let it slip away.

Your son will die, just like the rest.

Vader didn't bother to entertain the voices with an answer. The Dark side could whisper all it wanted, but ultimately it was his decision whether or not to respond. As his eyes dissected a flimsiplast Sith expedition report, Darth Vader felt his mind drift. Despite years of enforced discipline, old fears were slowly resurfacing. How many times had he been in this same race against time? How many times had he marched the people he cared for into dangerous situations, not to count the times he had directly inflicted the physical and emotional trauma.

He tucked away some promising datapads and continued his march through the academy library. As he did, he felt his skin crawl. Vader paused in the middle of the yawning threshold and reached out with the Force. Something was wrong. He felt it in his bones, and in the way the Dark side swirled around him. He stared up at the vaulted ceiling, across the towering statue, and down the line of dusty shelves and battered terminals.

He had always thought that the lack of Imperial excavations on Korriban had been a waste. The raw amount of knowledge to be gained was far beyond what any mortal man could comprehend. Instead, Sidious had seen it fit to send inquisitors and his apprentice scrounging through the dirt for mere fragments of information.

However, this information would have to wait. Luke's strong force signature had suddenly dimmed. Vader had been tracking it as the child did the one thing he was not to do. Not that it mattered to Vader. He had anticipated such a move, even counting on it to aid in the boy's training. The problem came when he suddenly grew weak in the Force. His presence suddenly became that of someone almost dead, and death was something that Vader could not allow.

Vader steeled his nerves and began the march deep into the center of the fortress-like library. Durasteel walls rose to meet him as he wound his way through the passages. His ventilator-augmented breath reverberated off the walls with each room he passed through. Finally, the Sith reached a hallway with a blank wall of grey metal. There seemed to be no place to go. There were no handles or signs. It was a wall.

"Sith… they never change," Vader ground out as he pressed his hand to the wall.

With careful touches of the Force, he worked the hidden latch. There was a click, and the wall popped loose. With the grinding of dust against the gears, the wall sank into the floor before him. Before entering the newly revealed passageway, the Sith paused... an ancient sense of self-preservation, primal fear of the unknown, causing him to stare into the void. He did not know what was down these steps. However, deep in his mind, he knew that it was nothing good.

Go… See the monster you have forged.

Vader instantly bristled at the words. The contempt filled hiss, and the cackle in its voice was all too familiar. Vader knew the voice of his former master anywhere. Whether the words were his or simple machinations of the planet, Vader did not know, nor did he care. The Sith snapped on his crimson lightsaber with a new sense of resolve. He had a job to do, and this time he would not fail.

As he marched down the ancient stone steps, Darth Vader became aware of a presence. It was ancient and dark. What concerned him was how subtle it was. Whatever it was, knew enough to not make itself immediately apparent in the Force. The only reason Vader could sense it was his own strength in the dark side and his familiarity with its tricks and tools. He paused, partway down the steps, and turned around. In the red glow of his lightsaber, he could make out a pair of cracks spidering up either wall. As natural as they looked, Vader knew better. They were too perfectly aligned. He stepped closer and caught a glint of metal tucked into the stone.

"What is it that you want?" he demanded as he stared at the unsprung trap.

His artificial voice boomed out through the circular stairwell as he continued his march downward.

"Why are you here?" hissed a feminine voice, "You are the one who doesn't belong. You are the traitor."

The voice was like a whisper carried on the wind, stiffened by its own disdain.

"You know nothing," Vader snapped.

"I know enough. You are a murderer. You are a traitor. You are nothing more than a stain on the galaxy," accused the voice.

Darth Vader stepped down onto the bottom landing of the stairs. The darkness swallowed the light of his blade, hiding the real size of the room he was in. However, the echo of his steps and the sudden absence of walls told him it was a sizable place.

"My reasons for being here are my own," he declared.

Vader instantly felt a set of invisible fingers press against his mind. He never broke stride as he threw up his own mental shields. This spirit would only get what he chose to reveal. There would be no head games here.

"You carry much hostility. What has you so agitated, I wonder," purred the voice.

He wasn't sure, but the Sith thought he could hear a touch of admiration blended into her annoyance. Darth Vader ignored the comment as he used the Force to throw open a stone door.

Metal screamed and twisted as the stone slab was thrown down the next passageway. With every step, Darth Vader could feel his anger grow, fueled by his contempt of the Sith. This spirit reminded him too much of the emperor, which fed into his driving anger. Suddenly an animalistic scream cut down the passageway. Darth Vader slowly turned around to face the noise. His hand squeezed the lightsaber blade tighter as he heard the faint scrape of claws against the stone. He could sense several beings sprinting his direction. They should be on him any-

The first creature suddenly materialized out of the darkness. The canine-like creature propelled itself off the ceiling with fangs bared. Vader caught the beast with the superheated edge of his blade. The creature's head flew from its body as he used the Force to smash two more against the wall. The fourth one lept over it's flying pack mates only to impale itself on his lightsaber. At the same time, Vader became aware of a new set of force signatures fading into existence behind him. He spun around just in time to catch another of the creatures midway through the air. It snapped viciously as Vader's artificial hand slowly crushed the vertebrae in its neck. He threw it to the side and continued his march forward, hacking and smashing his way through the hoard of animals.

"You come in here. You ignore my questions, and you destroy my home," growled the spirit, "Surely someone, as esteemed as yourself, would know better."

"I came here for answers, not to worship the dead," Vader snapped as he split the last of the creatures in two.

"What could you possibly hope to learn on your own?" she demanded.

"More than I can from your twisted words."

"You are more foolish than the boy," the spirit hissed.

The Force suddenly yelled out in alarm. Vader shoved outward with the Force out of pure instinct. He was greeted by the feeling of a thousand needle-like spikes trying to force their way out of the wall. Vader gritted his teeth as he pushed back against the wall as he struggled to hold the trap at bay. He felt the anger and the hatred pour through him. It swirled around him, rushed through his body, and shot out as pure telekinetic energy. He dug his feet into the ground and threw his arms out in opposite directions. The walls crumbled and rippled inward. Dust and rock exploded as the ancient contraption imploded on itself.

Darth Vader stood tall at the center of the destruction. The rhythmic hiss-puff of his respirator was the only sound to be heard now. There was no voice, no screams, no growls, or metallic squeals. Stone did not crumble, and gears did not grind. There was nothing but dark, oppressive silence. He looked once to his left and once to his right. It was just another passageway. It was just another string of dead bodies and one more enemy. There was nothing new to be seen here, and so Vader continued his march onward.

∫∆πµπ∆∫

Time lost all meaning as Luke passed in and out of consciousness. He did not know if hours or minutes had passed. His internal clock refused to tell him, and Luke could not summon the cognitive abilities required to check the chrono on his wrist. His world was a blur as he slid and tumbled across the ground. An invisible force pulled him through the passages and into a room. He let out a groan as he was pulled up into a vertical position.

"Luke… Luke, where are you?" whispered a voice.

Luke rolled his head upward as the voice drifted into his ears. That voice. It sounded so familiar, yet he couldn't tell who it was. He opened his mouth to speak. His words crumbled into a croak as he tried to focus his eyes in the dim light.

"Why, Luke? Why would you do this to us?"

This time the voice was familiar. It seemed to come from somewhere to his left, and he forced himself to turn that direction.

"Un-Uncle Owen?" he asked between coughs.

His throat was painfully dry, and his head was spinning.

"We loved you."

You betrayed us."

"Don't you know what he did?"

"The pain he inflicted?"

"The people he killed?"

The verbal assault broke Luke from his dazed state. With wide eyes, he twisted and turned to face the direction of each voice. The accusations came from all manner of places, from both the living and the dead. From the voices, Luke could make out those of his uncle, Han, Obi-Wan, and Leia.

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," Luke protested.

As he spoke, he instinctually pulled against his restraints. Wraps of cold steel pulled back, pinning him against the wall. Suddenly, out of the darkness came a bitter laugh. It came out almost like a hiss as crimson torches ignited down the length of the room. As they came to life, he was greeted with the sight of a woman he knew all too well. Her hair was drawn up in the signature twin buns, while a silky white gown covered her body. Leia's face was drawn downward as she walked towards him. Her pace was even and purposeful as she closed the distance.

"I would love to believe that, Luke," she said.

She looked up, and Luke instantly paled. Her bright and passionate eyes were replaced by a pair of black voids.

"We would all love to," she ground out.

As she spoke, her voice took on a more resonant, more chorus-like sound. It was as though a thousand voices were trying to talk through the same mouth. Luke pulled against his restraints even harder as he felt the Darkside pour over him. A cold sweat broke out over his body. Luke's breath drew short, and his heart pounded in his ears as she stopped in front of him.

"You know what he had done to us. The torture… The pain… Have you not seen the bodies? Have you not seen the depths to which he will go?" wailed the voice.

Luke didn't respond as he reached into the Force. He closed his eyes and reached out, grasping for whatever flicker of light could be found down there. In his mind, Luke felt a sensation like someone beating on the inside of his skull. A thousand invisible fingers began to work their way inside his mind, trying to violently rip apart the shield he had hastily thrown up. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

Suddenly his world began to spin. The Force itself seemed to scream out as he was thrown around in his restraints. The sudden jarring caused him to snap his eyes open. A sudden wind tore through the space, ripping up dirt, stone, and metal as it went. Walls were stripped away as the floor dropped out from under him. All of this was replaced by a massive grey cloud. Luke whipped his head from side to side, trying desperately to grasp his bearings in the void. In the disorientation, one thing immediately became clear… The oppressive darkness. Luke had never felt anything like it. It circled him and pressed in like a predator trying to strangle its prey. Cold shivers coursed down Luke's spine while an invisible force slowly forced the air from his lungs.

As he tumbled, the young Jedi became aware of screams. The sounds of death assaulted his ears. Cries of terror mixed with human voices and the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh. Through the fog, he was soon able to make out figures. He could see humans in green armor. Twi-Leks and Sangheili soon followed. Red lightsaber blades glowed from within, while the whirr of repulsor lifts added to the mess of noise.

The noise suddenly faded as people appeared from the mist. Marines with green body armor stood back to back, firing their rifles desperately into the grey beyond. Suddenly green masses of tentacles and tissues plunged into the group. Blood splattered, and limbs contorted and split apart to the sound of tearing flesh and guttural screams. The dead reanimated, and the carnage continued.

After some time had passed, the scene finished its dissolution into chaos. In seconds the universe crumbled before him. Bodies were mutilated. Worlds burned, and the armies were scattered. Screams and incoherent words assaulted his ears. Bodies stacked meters deep burned like hellish monuments to their downfall, while the dead continued their depraved assault on the living. Deep in his mind, Luke knew what he was seeing. Yet his body could only give him emotions for it all. The fear was nauseating. The death was horrifying, and the certainty of it all was maddening.

Then, as suddenly as it all started, the vision ended. Luke's body crashed to the ground. His body dropped to the dirty floor. He never felt it. His eyes were wide with shock, and his breathing was erratic. His chest bounced with each shallow breath. As he laid there, somewhere between consciousness and death, Luke became vaguely aware of the black boots towering over him.

"F-Flood… Ring… Gravemind… Have to… We have… To warn them… We- We have to run," he gasped.

He opened his mouth to say more. He grasped out desperately, trying to communicate what his brain couldn't comprehend. Yet no words would form, and his muscles would not function. His world simply went black as sleep once again overtook him.

(Kuat Drive Yards)

Admiral Thrawn paced around his stateroom. Surrounding him were all manner of art pieces. Cultures from all across the galaxy were represented. Each one was different, with strange shapes and colors blended together in differing displays of color. The only thing each piece shared in common was the Chiss admiral occupying the room. He had gone to war with each race represented. He had learned their cultures and memoried what made each person tick. He had then proceeded to weaponize it on the battlefield to alarming effect. The only exception to the rule was the three massive holo-images dominating the back wall of the room. They were images taken from his ships in the opening minutes of the Yaga Minor battle.

"Such a fascinating alliance," he mused as he looked at the vessels.

He stared first at the familiar Executor, followed by grey and pink flagships. According to comm intercepts, they were the "Infinity" and "Shadow of Intent," respectively. These ships were so different yet so similar at the same time. He smirked as he recalled the Infinity's forward batteries. He wished he could show the EmperorEmperor these cannons in action. This was a superweapon done right, a mass of metal that could crack the most powerful shields. Yet it was mobile enough to be handled with a surgeon's precision. At his core, Admiral Thrawn desperately wished he could make the EmperorEmperor understand the difference between a weapon of terror and a weapon of war. Sadly, the emperor had shown little interest in such nuances.

Admiral Thrawn brought his musings back on track and turned to the datapad in his hand. He looked at the battle formations laid out before him. He examined how each Force blended and operated. The alliance ships were there and distinct. Yet they were scattered among three particular sectors. He swiped through pages and glanced back up at the Shadow of Intent.

"Of course… A fleet of yours would be multi-race. The design and the colors are a blend of alien cultures," he muttered.

Admiral Thrawn looked through images of the other ships in that particular sector. They were all the same shades of pink and purple, with a sleek, rounded design born from standardization. However, he could see the subtle differences. No ship was ever quite the same. There was always some minor difference or imperfection in the hull of the vessel. For hours, Admiral Thrawn stood dissecting every part of the battle. He combed through the battle, minute-by-minute to understand what exactly had happened. Finally, he turned to the man at the center of it all. With the tap of a couple keys, he had replaced the Executor with a full-sized image of Darth Vader. Even as a holo-image, he seemed to suck the very light from the room. The admiral looked deep into the man's black, empty eyes as his mental gears turned.

He remembered his interactions with the ex-Imperial. He had always been the most devoted of them all. His moves were the boldest, and he accepted failure from no one, not even the Grand Admiral. Vader had always been a looming figure in the Imperial war machine. No one knew where he came from or what his actual rank was. All they knew was his reputation. They knew of the audacity inspired in his troopers and the lack of mercy he displayed for the incompetent and the enemy.

Of course, Thrawn had seen through the fear and the starry-eyed expressions. Vader was a tormented soul. Something motivated Darth Vader to do the unspeakable. Yet, at the same time, he seemed determined to make himself suffer in the process. So much had been evident on Lothal and Ryloth. In both places, the extent to which he had gone to crush the rebels had nearly cost him his life. The reckless abandon with which he had approached both matters had driven battle-hardened Imperials to their breaking point and cost him at least one suit.

"Just what did we do to you?" he mumbled as he examined the figure, "What would make you turn your back so quickly?"

The chime of a wall-mounted chrono broke him from his thoughts entirely. Admiral Thrawn looked up and stacked the datapads on his desk before smoothing out his uniform. The admiral clicked off the images and punched in a communication code into the holoprojector. The machine beeped as it accepted the code, and Admiral Thrawn dropped down on one knee.

Seconds stretched into eternity as he waited for the hologram to hum to life. The EmperorEmperor had always been one to answer in his own time, never arriving when others found it convenient. As he waited, Admiral Thrawn felt his skin crawl. He suddenly remembered just how much he had lost at Yaga Minor. The EmperorEmperor would not be pleased. All Thrawn could hope for is that his reputation and accumulated insights would be enough to save his own life.

After what felt like an eternity, the room was bathed in a blue glow. Admiral Thrawn's metallic medal bars and rank insignias shimmered in the light. In any other instance, the admiral would've felt a sense of pride in the image. However, he knew better. He knew his place before the robed figure.

"It is a pleasure, my Lord," Admiral Thrawn greeted as he looked up.

"Rise, Grand Admiral," the Emperor growled, "I find your failure on Yaga Minor... most disturbing."

Contempt dripped from the Emperor'sEmperor's raspy voice. Admiral Thrawn swallowed as he considered his words. What he said next would make or break this conversation.

"There were complications. The trap was executed as planned, but the Force was magnitudes bigger than anticipated. We simply lacked sufficient-"

"I am well aware of Vader's newfound allies," Emperor Palpatine hissed.

Admiral Thrawn simply nodded and skipped forward in his explanation. Clearly, the emperor had been briefed or otherwise informed of what was happening.

"I have been in contact with Outer Rim Command. I anticipate that we will be able to launch a proper counterattack within the week," he quickly reported.

His voice was matter-of-fact, carefully hiding whatever worry he felt.

"No. You will not. Vader's treachery is no longer your concern. Continue to consolidate your forces at Kuat. There is another threat coming from the Core. You will prepare the fleet for combat operations within the inner rim region. From now on, you will answer to Black Fleet Command, not the outer rim," the emperor demanded.

Admiral Thrawn arched an eyebrow momentarily, but it vanished soon after before he answered. "My Lord, that is the heart of Imperial space. The only Force within striking distance of the Core is the Chiss Ascendancy."

"In due time, Admiral Thrawn, you will understand. In the meantime, you will do as you are instructed and nothing more. Is that clear?" the EmperorEmperor answered.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good. Now, I know that you were prudent enough to observe these newcomers." the Emperor said.

Thrawn knew it for what it was. It was a demand for his own thoughts on the new ships that had fought at Yaga Minor. Rather than offer polite but unnecessary platitudes, he simply began his analysis.

"The new ships are equipped with kinetic and plasma weaponry, but far different than any previously encountered. Their rate of fire is nothing impressive, far slower than our own weapons' fire rate. However, their explosive payload is something to be respected. While we had the superior volume of fire during the battle, they produced much more deliberate and lethal strikes. However, This new force is far from immune…"

Admiral Thrawn went on to detail the countless observations he had made during and after the battle. There were apparent rifts within the fleet. A level of distrust permeated their ranks, which kept their maneuvers always just a half-step behind. There was a rigidness with which their capital ships moved. Different doctrines of fighting blended in a way that had produced small, exploitable weaknesses in their formations.

"...The mechanical precision that made any one group exceptionally dangerous is lacking across the entirety of this invading fleet. These are capable officers, and failure to respect their abilities will find them in Coruscant before the year's end. However, such a disaster can be prevented by a swift and well-planned counterattack," Admiral Thrawn concluded.

Silence hung in the air as Emperor Palpatine's figure towered over the admiral. From his angle, Admiral Thrawn could see the man's face twist into a look of disgust. His yellow eyes seemed to cut deep into the grand admiral's soul. Even without the Force to call on, Admiral Thrawn could feel the man's displeasure.

"You have not been relieved because I still have use for a being of your talents. Pray you do not fail me again," the Emperor growled.

With those words, the emperor's hologram winked out of existence. Admiral Thrawn pursed his lips in annoyance as he retreated to his stack of datapads. He knew that he should feel relief at still being alive. Few survived such interactions with the Emperor. However, all he could feel was a sense of dread. There was something larger at play. There were factors he was not being made privy to, and it deeply concerned him.