Most of Fulcrum's visits to Coruscant came of Empire Day, or surprise recalls from Sidious, so for this one to be an elective trip to see a graduation ceremony, could almost be called a relief. This upcoming class was the largest yet, and the best cadets from each of the Imperial academies were likely to be in attendance, perhaps even some bound for the Executor.

For the first time in maybe twelve years, she had no immediate, military objective. The Seperatist holdouts had been all but dealt with, and the hunt for Jedi had dwindled to scarce, unreliable rumors. For the first time effectively ever, she could take a trip for herself. With the Inquisitors scattered throughout the Outer Rim and Wild Space, and the Executor parked in a blockade of some uncooperative world, her crew could more than easily handle without her, especially for five days at most.

To her surprise, after she almost didn't ask, Vader had agreed to go. Maybe he took an interest in the future of their Empire, or maybe he just wanted 3PO to leave him alone, but either way, the Executor would be without their resident Sith, to which the bridge crew did an excellent job hiding their excitement over. They left the ISD in Piett's capable hands, and the apprentices in R2's equally capable pincers, although she could only hope no one would set the ship on fire in their absence. They both took their TIEs, and with only two expert pilots at the helm, and no convoy to worry about losing, made the trip in near-record time.

On Coruscant, Headmaster Gentis, a tall man with red hair, who she had met while he was still a general, back in the Clone Wars, received them with unexpected grace. Few took unannounced visits from Sith well, although Fulcrum could hardly blame them for that, but he went above the usual groveling, and arranged a private balcony for them, without even being asked. Their view rose high above the event, giving her a good look at the thousands of cadets gathered. She leaned over the balcony, watching the glory of it all. With the red, Imperial banners fluttering in the afternoon breeze, and the glowing pride flowing in the Force from the crowds below. Gentis began his speech, which surely would take far longer than any speech should, but Fulcrum couldn't find it in her to mind. Not with Vader's unusually easy presence at the edge of her senses, basking in all they had built.

After the proceedings wrapped up, well after the sun had set, the two Sith returned to their respective apartments in the old senatorial district. Over her many visits, Fulcrum had grown more or less used to the idea of the spacious rooms being hers, but she had never become truly comfortable with them, likely because she hadn't spent more than four consecutive nights there yet. She curled up in one of the practically-new chairs that overlooked the skyline, content to watch the speeders go by for a while. The traffic appeared unusually thin, although she couldn't tell for certain if the graduation caused it, or if fewer people came to this neighborhood now. She hadn't been on Coruscant for any amount of time in years, maybe the planet itself could have changed.

'On Imperial Center', she reminded herself, only the low-level residents still called the world Coruscant. As a member of Imperial High Command, she had to exemplify what it meant to be Imperial, and it would do her no good to slip up in a meeting, even with such a pointless detail. The Moffs and Admirals feared the Sith enough to not object, but she knew they didn't respect her.

Having an entire evening to herself, no Inquisitors, no apprentice, no 3PO, no smaller ship begging for backup, felt strange. She found herself expecting someone to burst through the door at any moment, or for her comlink to demand her attention, but neither would come tonight, especially because she had her comlink off and in a drawer. The last time she had so much time, with nothing to do and no one to bother her, she could barely remember. It had to be during the Clone Wars, or earlier, even.

Fulcrum took a moment to make herself a cup of tea, a leftover habit from Kenobi. The man may have been a hypocrite, and a complete liar, but if there was one thing he was good at, it was tea. Ironically, tea-making was one of the only skills from him she still used. She moved to the floor-length windows while cupping the steaming mug, opening herself to the buzz in the Force from the trillions of life-forms.

Fulcrum slowly became aware of a faint sense, like the wisps of a forgotten memory, coming from the Force. However, by now, she knew better than to assume a mysterious, vague feeling was just that. She took another sip as it intensified, morphing into what almost could have been a warning. A random area of the skyline seemed to scream for her attention, and less than a second after her eyes snapped to it, an entire floor on one of the buildings exploded. The explosion shook her window and resounded in her montrails, even from this distance, as pieces of transparisteel and durasteel rained out and down, some embedding in other buildings. Before she could even consider how or why, another explosion shook the floor, then another, and another. Right before her eyes, in a matter of seconds, the entirety of the skyline caught fire.

A distant, overwhelming burst of alarm tore through her mind, nearly bringing her to her knees, and drowning out her own surprise. It retreated as fast as it came, and when she figured out from where it had come, she nearly dropped her mug.

Sidious.

He had to be in danger, serious danger, for a feeling like that to tear through her shields, and from the Imperial Palace. Although she wanted nothing more than to remove his head, she couldn't ignore it, not with Coruscant burning, even if only to finish the job herself.

The sensation came again, weaker this time, and now distinctly shot with fear. If she could sense that from this distance, Fulcrum knew she couldn't wait for a speeder. She took a few steps back, and opened herself fully to the Force, but still taking a second to set her mug down. When the right moment announced itself, she burst forward with unnatural speed, straight out the window, and onto a passing speeder below. The driver, an Arkannian man, whipped his head around fast enough to be painful, as shards of glass rained down around them. She pointed to the Imperial Palace, and shouted over the roar of the wind and engines, "That way!"

He hesitated, wasting precious seconds, but eventually, maybe recognizing her, maybe intimidated enough by the jump, turned the speeder to the palace. As they approached, dodging progressively more fire and debris, the sense of death intensified, rising as near countless lives were extinguished every second. All she could see from the air was blaster fire, some of it misaimed enough to endanger the speeder. The driver pulled off to a relatively empty spot, and descended somewhat, looking to her expectantly.

She leapt out, landing in a roll and igniting her lightsabers, as the speeder peeled away in a hurry above. Surveying the scene, she saw a mess of cadets firing at stormtroopers, with no hint of order to be found on either side. The streetlights above the courtyard and steps were out, the entire battle now lit only by the burning buildings and blasterfire. Both sides were tearing each other apart, but without any commanders to be found, she couldn't be certain of which group was the aggressor.

She found her answer in the towering form of Vader, deflecting so many shots so fast that his lightsaber was no more than a blur of red, returning the bolts to cadets. Fulcrum threw herself to his side in a dead sprint, deflecting a few stray bolts as she ran. They went back to back, fighting in the type of unison only possible through the Force. Fulcrum threw both lightsabers in opposing arcs, taking the heads off of more than a few unlucky cadets who couldn't see the dark blades, but she didn't have time to confirm how many. Vader had begun to levitate what looked like a fallen boulder, from where, she had no idea. The lightsabers returned, and with them in hand, she focused on the debris, lifting and slamming it down on a group of traitorous cadets.

With the shooting stopped, for the moment at least, she faced Vader and asked, "Any idea what's going on?"

"The cadets were attempting to force their way into the palace."

"Yeah, I can see that, do you know if they got to Sidious, or who's running the coup?"

"I assume it is the headmaster."

As much as she hated the idea, Gentis absolutely had the influence and experience to run a coup of this scale. She scrubbed at her face, the explosions still ringing in her montrals, trying to process everything that had happened. Vader, however, had already moved on, striding off to a lone cadet, standing near the hunk of stone.

As the Sith neared, he stood, and fired at a cadet trapped beneath the rock. He turned and bowed, giving her a clear view of the severe burn scars and likely blind eye on the left side of his face, and the empty sleeve trailing in the wind. Fulcrum crossed her arms, "You're the Raithal valedictorian."

He knelt, eyes flicking from Vader's still-lit lightsaber to the ground and back, and said, "An honor that means nothing to me now. I am loyal, only to the Emperor, and to you."

She could sense the sincerity behind his words, and given that he was still breathing, Vader did as well. He commanded, "Follow me."

The sense of death rose to a nearly overpowing level as the trio approached the palace. At the doorstep, which looked all the more imposing in the dark, darker than she had ever seen the Imperial district, lit only by the fires burning overhead, dead and dying Imperials lay. A thick, green gas leaked out, nearly, but not entirely concealing the corpses. Vader would have no issue, but even with the Force, she wouldn't risk going inside, not with stormtroopers hacking up bloody foam and lung tissue.

Fulcrum had opened her mouth to say it, when she noticed the cadet had a breathing mask slung around his neck, the kind that came from TIE fighters. Force knew how he got it, but that was the last thing she was worried about. Extending her hand, she ordered, "Give me your mask, and wait outside."

He rushed to obey, and when she had it in hand, she slipped it over her head, ignoring how it pressed at her montrals. She drew a test breath, and when it came back with the familiar taste of filtration, she nodded to Vader, and they stepped over the threshold.

A few reached through the carpet of gas as they passed, she could see now that there were officers, cadets, and palace guards alike, in various states of death. Some even summoned the breath to beg for help, but neither paid them any mind. She knew the opportunity they held, with a coup that they could easily replace the leadership of, trade power now, with half the work done for them. Vader, however, did not. He pushed straight to the throne room, fast enough that she struggled to keep up, much less get his attention.

Right before they turned into the grand hall to the throne room, she sent the equivalent of a slap through their bond, which finally got through to him. Vader stopped and turned, and she didn't need to see through the mask to know what he thought. In a whisper, as if Sidious or the palace guards could still hear her, she said, "Wait, this could be our chance. Even if he isn't dead yet, we could place you as Emperor, and end the coup that way. We could fix both problems right here, right now."

If Vader could have huffed, he probably would have, "Do you forget that we are targets as well? And currently without allies? I doubt the headmaster will accept our rule, if the Emperor dies, the Empire will fracture without him."

"How long will we even have the chance? Soon enough, he'll take Galen and Leia, or set the Inquisitorius on us. We need to make our move, and soon."

"Not. Yet. Without the Moffs and the rest of High Command, we will not keep power for long. Transferring power during peace will be difficult enough. For now, Sidious is all that is holding the Empire together."

As much as she hated it, she understood Vader's point. If the Moffs sided with Gentis, Sidious would be their best claim to power. "Fine," she snarled, "If he's still alive.

Inside, the expansive throne-room was filled with the gas, reflecting it's sickly green color all through the shadowy room. In the center, Sidious had slumped to the ground, now little more than a pile of black robes, beside someone, someone kneeling, someone definitely alive. They looked up, both the mystery man and Sidious, to her disappointment. The other was Moff Trachta, the other member of High Command who used a ventilator. His and Vader's breathing echoed off the high walls, the only sound, beside their bootfalls. The Moff vacated his spot to give the Sith space, Vader hurrying to their master's side. Fulcrum reluctantly knelt as well, hoping her hesitation would look like care. Trachta said, "We need to get the Emperor into hiding, Gentis is nothing if not thorough."

Fulcrum took in Sidious' miserable state, stamping down the dark satisfaction it brought her. Blood leaked from his nose and lip, while the dim, green light filled every crevice of his scarred face. If not for the whirlpool of dark side energy swirling around him, he could have been mistaken for a corpse. Turning back to the Moff, she said, "I agree, we need to get him off Imperial Center."

Tracta shook his head, "They've got the planet locked down, we'll be shout out of the sky."

Vader began to say something, an electric hum, audible only to her, always preceded his words, but Sidious coughed, cutting Vader off, and said, "To the Crypt, now."

It took only one shared look, and they were again in action. Vader swept Sidious into his arms, they all knew no word of this day would leave the group, as Fulcrum led the way down.

The Crypt was one of the lowest levels of the palace, long since wiped from all records, and the one she corrupted her kyber crystals in, years ago. They now served as lights, casting a faint, red glow through the cavernous room. It held a stealth ship, one of the most advanced in the galaxy, placed there for emergencies, in the first days of the Empire. The level was open only to the Emperor's inner circle, which, if they survived this, would now include Moff Tracta. The ship held advanced medical equipment, including a stasis chamber, which could at least slow the progression of whatever was in the gas, while they figured out what to do next.

Tracta knew how to run a stasis chamber, and volunteered to monitor Sidious. Almost as soon as they had him in, while rifling through a container in the med bay, she found two, full-face oxygen masks. Thinking of the cadet, still waiting at street level, she swapped hers out and snagged the extra.

Starting up, even in the relative safety of the enclosed lift, she didn't dare take the mask off. She had no idea how much exposure the gas needed to start doing damage, and couldn't say she wanted to test it out. The last thing they needed was another half-dead Sith, and she knew Tracta would dump her at the first opportunity. He had never been an ally of the Sith, he tolerated them and the Inquisitors as an extension of the Emperor alone.

Walking through the silent halls, stirring up the heavy gas that blanketed the corpses, the only sound being her own boots, was unsettling, even to her. She ignored the primal urge to break into a run, but she did allow herself to take long, quick strides. She justified it as a need to get the cadet and return to Sidious as quickly as possible, but she couldn't fool herself, not completely. At least, not with all the blank, dead eyes of her fellow Imperials, staring up at her, almost accusingly.

She let herself walk a little faster.

The cadet was sitting on the ground, right outside the door, arm draped around his knees. When he noticed her approaching, he scrambled to his feet. She held a hand out to stop him, but he still bowed. A little stronger than she intended, she ordered, "Put this on, and follow me."

He did so, quickly and without complaint. Inside, he barely reacted to the corpses, although he visibly avoided stepping through the mist. Fulcrum set a rapid pace, forcing him to hurry, although he didn't mind. She could sense all of his thoughts, loud, for a non-Force user, but completely unguarded. If he attempted to plan against them, which seemed far from likely, she would know it before he did.

In the lift down, she commanded, "You will not discuss this with anyone outside present company. Understood, cadet?"

"Yes, my lord." As a clear afterthought, he added, "My name is Laurita Tohm, my lord."

Still staring at the door, she said, "Good to know you weren't born 'cadet'."

Cadet Tohm gaped like a Mon Calamari, if only for a moment. The life binged, and she strode out, rushing him on purpose, to keep him from seeing too much. Even so, he stared intensely at the sleek ship, and continued to do so as she led him to the med bay. Tracta was still inside, almost exactly where she left him, a relief, since Tohm was about to be his problem. Vader however, was nowhere to be seen.

The Moff's ventilator was quieter, and less raspy than Vader's, but still offered a familiar rhythm. They both stared at Sidious, Sith-gold and artificial-red eyes trained on him, as if something would go wrong if they looked away. Fulcrum asked, "How is he?"

Tracta's flesh hand tightened on his metal arm, "Alive, for now. The chamber scanned a virus, Aorth-6 to be exact. He won't last much longer without some real help."

Cadet Tohm stepped closer, away from his respectful spot in the corner, "We can't go to any Imperial system. We have to assume I was the only cadet that wasn't told."

Fulcrum nodded, "It seems you were the only one Gentis didn't trust."

She vaguely noticed Vader in the doorway, but before she could acknowledge him, Tracta, in one smooth motion, pulled his blaster and pressed it to the cadet's head, saying, "I don't trust you either."

Vader had him by the wrist before she even registered the motion, crushing him until the blaster dropped from his grasp, and the Moff to his knees. He said, synthetic bass dark and final, "we will spirit the Emperor away, but we will do so under my command. There are secret places in this galaxy, and I know where to find them."

Vader stalked off the moment he finished his sentence, leaving her with Tracta and Tohm. The Moff stood, slowly, under her bitter gaze. She commanded, "Tend to the Emperor," before walking out herself.

They left Tracta and the cadet behind with Sidious, on their mission to search the archives. Tohm was desperate to prove himself, and Tracta wasn't stupid enough to kill him in their absence. But, if she had to babysit them, then she just might. The very idea of sitting around, listening to them bicker, and waiting for either Sidious to die or Vader to come back, made her want to kill them, and probably herself afterwards.

The Jedi archives had been sealed to all but the Sith since the beginning of the Empire, and had been saved from the gas, well enough that on the upper floors, she could remove her mask. The data shelves were dark, like the rest of the room, but even in the darkness, she could see the state of disarray the room was in. Some of the Lost Twenty statues were still overturned, and some tables as well. They lay scattered, and pushed about, shattered holorons and screens contributing a thin layer of glass to the floor, crunching under their boots as they continued forward, stirring up the thick dust. As they approached the middle of the room, where Jocasta Nu broke in and blew a hole in the wall, the patch let in a few cracks of light, illuminating lightsaber gouges in the floor, and flimsi books thrown about. Some of the gouges, she knew, came from the fight with Vader and the Grand Inquisitor, some with them and Jocasta, and others from a few, desperate Jedi's last stand against the clones. Other than the shoddy patch in the wall, no other care had gone into the room since the death of the Order.

Fulcrum herself hadn't been up here since the end of the Clone Wars. After her trial, she hadn't been eager to spend her time in study of the Jedi, and less eager after they had been banished to the dust heap of history. In fact, the last time she had been here was barely a week shy of Order sixty-six, at her master's side, on their way to see the council.

The lift to the council room still ran, although the mechanics squeaked and protested at their weight. The chamber itself never had lights, although, with the surrounding buildings dimmed or dark, she couldn't remember it being this dark. Through the windows, she could see more distant stars than ever before, even having lived on Coruscant for as long as she could remember. Vader stopped at the controls, giving her time to investigate the room. In the lift, she could see the room was in some state of disarray, but upon closer inspection, she could see what had happened. A few seats on the right side were overturned, and one had a lightsaber scar in it, a stab, only about waist-height on her, and through the layer of dust on the ground, she could make out a dragging slash in the floor.

She couldn't help but steal a glance at Vader, his helmet still buried in his work. When they parted, her to Raxus, and him to the Jedi temple, there were around two hundred initiates in the temple. The echoes of what had happened here still lingered, and as she traced the burned edges of the wound in the chair, she could almost hear the screams.

Without warning, blue holograms flickered to life, and she found herself standing inside a projection of Mace Windu, facing a man she hadn't seen in a long time. She joined Vader at his side, just in time for the ghostly image of Anakin to say, "I've captured dozens of Dooku's most trusted Lieutenants. Dangerous Force-wielders and psychopaths-"

The projection of Obi-Wan cut him off, "Are you asking for another promotion, Anakin?"

Fulcrum sensed a slight shudder in the Force, although if it was a ripple from the past, or Vader's reaction, she couldn't tell. Anakin continued, "Of course not, master. I just want to know why everyone I defeat seems to vanish the moment I hand them over, to you."

That confirmed her suspicion. They had just delivered Maul, right after she had returned victorious from Mandalore, and just after Anakin had been put on the council. They handed Maul over to Kenobi, and that was the end of it. They were called to protect the Chancellor before she could so much as shower, and when they returned, with Dooku dead and after almost single handedly ending the Clone Wars, the Council continued to act as if Maul had never existed. They had practically stormed the council chambers then, she fondly remembered forcing Jedi to leap out of the way on their warpath. The Council hadn't let her inside then, but she had knelt in front of the door, putting her montrails to use. She had heard everything, until Anakin stormed out, which the hologram was about to do, in a swirl of dark robes, insisting they would get answers from the Chancellor.

They visited Sidious at the opera only a few hours later.

Hologram-Anakin turned away from Obi-Wan as she refocused, saying, "That's what you always say."

A complex look of sadness fell over Obi-Wan's blue-tinged face, making her wish he were really here, if only to wipe it off herself. He had no right.

The holographic council continued to argue, although she wasn't listening anymore, not really, just scanning for anything that could be important. Eventually, Obi-Wan said, "-but I would like to know the Prism's exact location. I plan to inspect conditions personally before I return to the front."

Windu said, "I agree, you'll find the Prism hidden in the mass shadow of the sixth moon of Diab, right on the fringe of the galaxy. But, I advise you to go alone."

"Of course, Master Windu. Anakin belongs on the battlefield. It's where he has always done the most g-"

Vader drove his lightsaber into the controls before he could finish. With the holograms off, the room returned to its earlier, tomblike darkness, the barely-visible base casting red light onto Vader alone. Crossing her arms, and pretending to be barely annoyed, she said, "It seems we have our planet."