When Eshkar Niin realized he was alive, he couldn't understand or believe it. His last memories were vivid: the fight atop the landing platform, the pain of Draco's saber piercing his chest, the raw anger that consumed him in a blaze when he fell off the edge. He remembered killing Elliah too, and the rush of liberation that had come with it. He just didn't know how he'd survived.
He was weightless in his bacta tank, cut off from the world around him and even the passage of time. The only face he saw through the liquid haze was that of a tentacle-faced Quarren, patterned in blurred lines of red and black. It took him longer to recall the name attached to it, but eventually he did.
When the medical droid finally removed Niin from the tank, Darth Maleval was there to greet him. Niin wrapped himself in a towel, taking care with the still-tender area around his chest. He felt naked beneath Maleval's smoldering, silent gaze.
When the Sith did not speak, Niin asked, "How am I still alive?"
"We have agents in Bastion," Maleval said. "They observed your battle on the landing pad. When you fell, they recovered you. Best we can tell, the Imperial Knights think Eshkar Niin is dead."
"I see."
"They are not wrong."
Niin stared at Maleval. The Sith stared back. He remembered the conversation they'd had on Berchest. The Sith had told him that in order to truly embrace the power of the dark side he had to destroy the man he once was. Once that was accomplished he could take a new name and become a new being. Niin had never expected that death and rebirth to feel so literal.
He also remembered what else Maleval had said. In order to kill his old self, he needed to kill what he loved most. He thought back on Elliah now. He recalled the years they'd known each other, the budding friendship at the academy, and the love he'd had to suppress because she already the Emperor's. He'd excused it then, telling himself that they'd both made vows to Roan Fel and in their own ways they had to keep it. Now that seemed like the delusion of a man justifying his own weakness. He should have taken Elliah for himself, but he'd allowed her to go to Fel instead. That was what had killed her.
Niin tried to hold that knowledge close. Thinking of Elliah still brought small pangs of regret, not for her murder, but for allowing things to have come to that point. He hoped, in time, even that guilt would fade.
"I am no longer Eshkar Niin," he said eventually.
"In killing the empress you have demonstrated your devotion to the Sith path," Maleval agreed.
"I am a Sith, then? Am I a Lord?" He wanted desperately to be one. It was the only course available to him now and he wanted to advance as far as he could. By embracing the darkness in himself he'd already broken chains he hadn't known existed. He could only imagine what the future would bring.
"I have spoken with Lord Krayt about you," Maleval said. "He has agreed. By his word, you are now a Lord of the Sith."
He felt joy tingle through his body. "Then do I have a name?"
"Traditionally, we chose out own names."
Yes, of course they would. To be a Sith was to command your own destiny. Niin had no idea all of what went into a Sith's name, but he thought on what had brought him here and what he had done. The revelation of the Sith had dropped him into great confusion, and for newly two years he'd felt a being torn in half. From the agony of that conflict he'd finally made himself anew into something stronger and better than Eshkar Niin. He saw now that conflict was the only crucible that could have forged his new self, and that it was to be embraced rather than feared.
He took a deep breath and said, "I am Darth Havok."
"Good," purred Maleval. The other Sith laid a red hand on his shoulder, touching him for the first time. "Get dressed, Darth Havok, and then I will explain all that's happened since your injury. You've awoken just in time to see history made."
-{}-
Years of experience as a spy, combined with the mental compartmentalization required to live dual lives, were the only things keeping Nyna Calixte composed. Her highest virtue was self-control, over her own mind as much as her external situation. On the outside, things had gone badly beyond her reckoning. Inside, at the core of her self, practiced mental discipline was the only thing keeping her anger and grief from boiling to the surface.
Failure could be fatal, given the company she kept.
It was three days after the fall of Ossus, and from the viewport of Veed's cabin aboard his Imperious she could see the luminous artificial swirls of Coruscant's cityscape. Traffic at the capital world continued to pulse in and out like lifeblood, but a dozen Imperial star destroyers now sat ominously in loose formation around it. Roan Fel was set to arrive within hours for his formal coronation as emperor of the known galaxy. A grand occasion if things went as planned, but one way or another, they weren't going to.
Veed was talking, but not to her. "The attack on Ossus was a mistake, Lady Maladi," he told the Sith. "We should have waited until they had all gone there. Casualty reports suggest that more than half of them might still be alive and other there somewhere in the galaxy!"
"I disagree, Veed." The Devaronian woman looked faintly bored with the conversation. "Gathered together they would have been more difficult to defeat. They are scattered, without leadership, without a base. We will hunt them. They will find no refuge."
Calixte found she didn't care what happened to the scattered Jedi. She'd never had any love for the Order, only for Kol Skywalker. The Sith had, quite triumphantly, proclaimed Kol dead at Ossus. They said Darth Nihl had killed him along with hundreds of other Jedi, and Calixte had no reason to doubt it. There was no mention of Cade, but the worst had to be assumed.
Kol and Cade were both dead, and Calixte had been powerless to prevent it. The strike at Ossus had taken her by surprise, but she should have foreseen it. Everything the Sith did involved treachery. She should have warned Kol, and then-
Her thoughts faltered. Knowing Kol, he'd have chosen to make a brave, self-sacrificing stand regardless. But if he'd been warned, perhaps Cade would still be alive.
Self-control, she reminded herself. It was essential, especially in front of Maladi. She banished regret and grief, shoved them deep down into the bottom of her heart where they'd rot and fester inside of her, but at least they'd be far from the surface. Maybe, in time, she could lock them away, separate from Nyna Calixte as the rest of Morrigan Corde's life.
She drew in breath and said, "The real problem at the moment, Lady Maladi, is going to be the emperor. The mission to Ossus was supposed to have been a diplomatic one, to convince the Jedi to join the Empire. Fel gave direct orders that the Jedi were not to be attacked." She steadied herself and looked away from the window, at the Sith Lord. "Fel won't stand for open rebellion. He's called for a meeting with the Moff Council, none of whom were consulted before the Ossus attack, either. I can't see that ending well, can you?"
"I believe we were all in agreement that Roan Fel would eventually have to be replaced," Maladi said. "His support for the war was always tepid, at best. He has kept his Imperial Knights from participating, and has never embraced we Sith as allies. My master, Darth Krayt, believes it is time another sat on the throne. Wouldn't you agree, my friend?"
"Absolutely, my lady!" Veed saw his opening and jumped for it. To Calixte it seemed like a goober fish biting the bait.
"My master will attend this meeting. It would be best if no one else, including the moffs, knew beforehand. Feign surprise when we arrive." Maladi turned toward the exit. "I'm tell my master we are agreed. Things must be prepared. My fellow Sith need to be in position, be ready."
"Yes!" Veed said to her back as the door slid shut. With the Sith gone he immediately spun on Calixte. "At last, Nyna! The throne is going to be mine! Ours, just like we planned!"
"You should have discussed the Sith attack on Ossus with me before it took place." She struggled to keep the anger from her voice.
"There wasn't time. The Sith showed up with instructions from Krayt. I had to make Yage think it was my idea or look like an idiot." He sounded surprised she was bringing this up.
"I'm your partner, Morlish. I do not hear about things like this after the fact!"
His smile grew insufferably confident. "You are my partner, Nyna, and a formidable one. I'm lucky you never wanted the throne for yourself."
She breathed out, turned away. She should let him think flattery placated her. "It's too exposed. I've always felt the real power was behind the throne. You know that." Her eyes narrowed. "It's the Sith that bother me."
Veed chuckled. "A little late for that, darling."
She shook her head as he moved for the pitchers on the table. "Morlish, did Maladi actually say they were going to put you on the throne in place of Fel?"
"Who else is there? None of the other moffs are qualified." He poured a tall glass of champaign, bronze and bubbly, then another. "Besides, Maladi must know that you and I would never accept someone else on the throne. We'd depose them." She took the glass and let Veed tap it. "The fact is, darling, the Sith need us."
"Thus far." She wasn't going to trust her fate to the Sith, even if Veed did. Still, she forced a smile and tipped up her glass.
"This is our moment of triumph, Nyna. Don't let it scare you." He returned the toast. "To us!"
"To us," she echoed, less enthusiastic. She watched him drink, a long savory gulp, before taking a sip herself.
Deep inside, her mind still worked. Roan Fel and his Imperial Knights were set to arrive in a few standard hours aboard his personal warship, the old but venerable Jagged Fel. From there he'd meet with the Alliance triumvirs, then some military representatives. Some hours were allotted for Fel to move people and equipment into the Alliance government headquarters complex. Then, finally, he'd have his meeting with the moffs.
She decided there was enough time to play Fel a quiet visit. He'd hated the sight of her, but if he hadn't killed her already he wouldn't now. When she told him what the Sith had planned he might even thank her, though she wasn't expecting it.
-{}-
Roan Fel's arrival on Coruscant was the kind of triumph he could never have imagined at the start of this war. It felt worse than any defeat.
When his shuttle descended from the Jagged Fel to the landing field in Galactic City, over two thousand stormtroopers stood in martial rows to greet him. Their white armor shone in the morning sun and as he stepped down the ramp Roan squinted into the gleam. At the head of the formation, proudly saluting their emperor, was a cluster of moffs and admirals. There was Yage, who they were now feting as the Hero of Ossus, doing his best to look proud, though Roan could sense stifled shame. There were Veed and Geist, looking insufferably smug. There was Calixte, who gave away nothing on her face or in the Force. For her to have hidden her thoughts all this time, the Sith must have coached her well.
A group of Alliance officials were behind them, including all three triumvirs and Admiral Petan. They greeted their new emperor formally, respectfully, and tried to do it with dignity, but Roan could tell they were breaking inside.
They all welcomed Roan and they all welcomed his heir with the same respect. Young Marasiah was draped in the finest violet splendor, and on Roan's insistence she'd added a streak of white through her dark brown hair just as her father had. Jagged and Davek Fel had earned their white through wartime scars. It has been Roan's mother who'd suggested he add an artificial streak to his own in respect to his predecessors, and Marasiah would continue that tradition.
The princess had never looked more regal and never looked more tragic. She held herself with stone-faced dignity but Roan could feel her ache in the Force. It had been constant since Elliah's death and Roan knew there was only so much he could do. The loss of his father as a teenager had left him with scars that never healed. It had been, ironically, sadly, Elliah who'd done the most to mend them.
Aside from Marasiah he'd brought a complement of Imperial Knights. Hogrum Chalk stayed close to Marasiah and Roan had charged him with protecting her at all costs. Hogrum had always doted on his niece and needed to order to watch her.
Roan had also brought along his cousin Mohrgan and Antares Draco. The younger man still bore the fresh red scar from Eshkar Niin's blade and had refused to have it removed. Roan was sure he'd carry that mark for the rest of his life, and in a sick way savor it's hurt every time he looked in the mirror.
Bringing Draco and his cousin to Coruscant had been a very deliberate choice. Both men were clearly stricken with grief and guilt for having failed to save the empress. By having them at his side, Roan was showing them that they still had his trust. Draco in particular had his gratitude for killing the traitor Niin.
Elliah's murderer was beyond Roan's vengeance, but it had not just been Niin who'd slain his wife. The Sith as a whole would pay for that, and a great many other things.
After that he was swept inside to attend to matters of state. As he listened to bragging moffs and plaintive triumvirs it was hard to care. He'd had almost a week to mentally grapple with Elliah's death. Grief had become a cold ache inside instead of hot pain, and he found his mind drawn increasingly to the uncertain future.
A reckoning with the Sith would come soon. That was the most important thing. To come at them as soon as the war ended was too obvious, and he was sure the Sith would be prepared. Instead he wanted to take care of Veed and Calixte first. Once he stripped the Sith of their allies on the Moff Council he'd be able to move against them more openly, without fear those traitors would feed his every intention to Darth Krayt.
Still, he was prepared for the worst. He'd ordered most of his Imperial Knights to gather at the academy on Bastion. Treis Sinde was there and so was his mother. Together they could marshal his Knights for any defense. With Veed gone he doubted the Sith would be so bold as to attempt a repeat of Ossus, but if they were, he'd assigned Admiral Fenel's fleet to stand guard over the Imperial capital. The man was a vicious fighter and unlike Yage he'd never been less than loyal to his emperor.
After all the meetings and ceremony Roan and his party retreated to their new quarters. An entire wing of the government district's most elaborate hotel had been given over to them, with the promise of permanent living space to come. As his Knights and security officers scoured the chambers for listening devices, Roan drew his daughter aside to a room they knew was clear.
"Thank you for coming," he told her. "I know it wasn't easy to sit through the talk and meetings."
The girl stared out the window with glassy eyes, toward Coruscant's endless towers and traffic lines but not at them. "I was going my duty, Father."
It was a rote answer, and sounded especially dull on her lips. It was hard to get anything more out of her after her mother's death. Roan knew he hadn't been the warmest father. He'd always striven to install duty and discipline, in public and private. Marasiah would need it for the burdens she'd one day shoulder. The Fel monarchy only deserved to stand if it produced strong and righteous leaders. Roan had done everything to ensure his daughter would be one.
Still, it left him at a loss in moments like this, which should have been tender. Striving to be a good emperor had not always made him a good man. He'd known that for a long time. Now he wasn't certain if he'd made a good emperor either.
He put a hand on her shoulder and said gently, "I'm sure this is all trying for you. Once a bedroom is secure you can get some rest."
"Yes, Father."
Roan didn't expect any more than that. He left her and told Hogrum to make sure she had a chance to sleep. His brother-in-law took the order with a dull now. Since Elliah's death he, too, had become distant.
Once the entire collections of rooms reported clear, they moved Marasiah into her new quarters. While Hogrum tended to her, Roan sent away the other Imperial Knights except for Draco and Mohrgan.
"Later this afternoon I'll be holding a convocation of the Moff Council," he told them. "We'll make our move then."
Mohrgan already knew of Roan's plan to arrest Veed on charges of treason. "Who do you plan to make supreme commander in his place? Not Yage?"
"No. Not Yage. For now the position will remain vacant. I may choose Admiral Fenel, or perhaps Admiral Challon. Them I trust."
"And Calixte?"
She was more the architect of this than Veed, and his heart smoldered when he thought of her smug smile during their last conversation. "Not yet. We'll monitor her closely. I want to see how she reacts to losing Veed. It may flush out more enemies we're unaware of."
"And Yage? He was Calixte's husband."
"You mean is he a co-conspirator? I don't think so. He's not pleased with her taking Veed as a lover. I can feel that in the Force. I think Yage was backed into Ossus by Veed and Darth Nihl."
"Still," Draco spoke up, "You shouldn't trust him."
"I trust only my Knights. That's why I'm bringing all of you this afternoon. With you at my side we can start removing the parasites that have been sucking away our lifeblood."
He said it to give them badly-needed confidence, but Mohrgan sighed and shook his head. "It's a risky move you plan at this meeting, cousin."
"Less than you might think, Mohrgan," Fel said. "The hardliners like Moff Geist might chafe under the 'victory without war' program, and they may hold no sympathy for the Jedi, but they will not tolerate outright disobedience to a direct order. After all, it violates their sense of tradition." He looked over Draco, then Mohrgan. "We cannot divest ourselves of the Sith yet, but we can be rid of Veed. If he makes any suspicious moves, kill him. And watch Moff Calixte very closely."
Mohrgan nodded, but Draco's eyes darted to the side. Roan felt him reach out with the Force, felt him find something just meters away.
Draco spun toward the window and pulled back the half-drawn curtain. He ignited his white lightsaber and pointed its tip directly at Nyna Calixte's neck.
The woman simply raised her hands and put on that damnable smile. "Hmm," she said, "I feel somewhat…. Unwelcome."
Mohrgan raised one hand in the air and with the Force lifted her off her feet. "Wait," she began, and then Mohrgan threw her hard against the wall. That took the wind out of her and finally removed the smile. She remained pinned there, feet dangling in the air, as the two Knights brought their white sabers close to her neck.
"I didn't kill you last time, Calixte," Fel said. "That may have been a mistake on my part."
"Killing me now would be a greater one," She insisted. She'd quickly stifled shock and replaced it with that damnable calm.
"She may have learned our plans, My Lord," Mohrgan said.
"You mean your plans to arrest Morlish Veed? I knew of those before I came. I also know that the Sith are planning to kill the Emperor."
"Don't trust her, Master," Draco said, "She's lying to save her life!"
"I don't trust her, but she could have better protected her life by not coming at all." Fel considered. The woman was venal and treacherous, but never a fool. "Explain yourself, Calixte."
He gave Mohrgan a gesture, and the Knight let Calixte drop. She fell hard but remained upright, like a nimble manka cat. "Thank you," she breathed, "The Sith plan to attend the Moff Council meeting and assassinate Your Majesty. I don't know how many are coming. Your only hope is escape."
"Forgive my suspicion, but why would you want to save me?" asked Fel. He hadn't expected the Sith to be so bold. "I assume Veed will be named Emperor in my place. The last thing you would want in that case is the true emperor loose in the galaxy. It might split the Empire unless… Ah!"
Then it hit him. As always, she was too clever be far.
"I believe they're going to put Krayt on the throne," Calixte said. "Veed, and you by extension, would then become a liability. But so long as I'm loose, allegiances are split. Krayt will need you. Both of you."
"Your survival is in both our interests," she agreed, "And that is enough to make us allies."
Fel's mind worked quickly. He spun on Mohrgan. "They'll expect me, and a contingent of Imperial Knights, to appear at the Council…"
"I'll lead them- and your double," Mohrgan nodded firmly. They're brought the cosmetically-altered actor along just in case. "I've wanted to test myself against the Sith! They'll have lost the element of surprise. We'll fight our way free and join you!"
Mohrgan was eager, too eager. Guilt over Elliah's death had marked him as clearly as the scar on Draco's face. The man was determined to stand once more against the Sith, even if it killed him.
Roan knew his cousin was right, and a distraction was needed. He also knew that refusing this request would break something inside Mohrgan. He'd brought the man along as a show of trust; now he had to follow through. Roan put a hand on Mohrgan's shoulder, squeezing hard. "Good. That would be good. Just… do not underestimate them, cousin."
Mohrgan nodded. He needed no reminder of the damage a Sith could do.
Calixte starting confidently for the door. "There is a ship waiting on sublevel twelve. Take the maintenance tunnels from the senate chamber." She was a woman who thought of everything, except the wisdom of picking Sith for allies.
"You know that if the Sith even suspect your complicity, you'll die," Draco warned.
"If this fails, I'm dead anyway. I've had some success in shielding my thoughts from Force-users." She gave a little smile, a parting barb. "You, for example. Farewell, Your Imperial Majesty. Safe voyage."
And just like that, she walked out of the room. Draco spun on his emperor. "Can we really trust her?"
"It appears we don't have a choice." Roan frowned. "The princess must be moved off-world quickly and quietly. I'll have Hogrum move her to the Jagged Fel."
"What about the others?"
He'd brought an entourage of almost fifty people, and if he tried to move them out of harm's way the Sith would know. Likely all their lives were forfeit, but as servants to their Emperor they were prepared to die.
"No one else will be moved," he said with finality. "We'll risk nothing in tipping off the Sith."
"We understand," said Mohrgan. "Majesty, we don't have much time. I'll gather the other Knights and inform them. I'll make sure they're ready."
Roan turned to his cousin and clasped him by the shoulders once more. To lose Mohrgan so soon after losing Elliah was like a fresh knife-wound but the alternative was losing his life and surrendering the galaxy to the Sith.
"Fight well, cousin," he said.
Mohrgan's smile was tight and brave. He knew they'd never see each other again.
-{}-
Tumult wracked the rest of the galaxy, but the towering wroshyr forests of Kashyyyk were unmoved. Lowbacca had forgotten about that timeless strength. He'd been too long away.
When his commandeered Fury starfighter dropped out of hyperspace and approached the verdant planet, he counted at least five Imperial star destroyers in orbit. None of them tried to stop him on his approach, nor did they hail him. Apparently no Imperial captain was brave enough to question a Sith. Lowbacca wondered what that boded for the war to come.
He avoided going to Thikiianna City directly. Instead he dropped into the atmosphere and reached out to touch his son. Karrashchakuk emanated surprise that his father was still alive. Lowbacca followed his unmistakable sensation in the Force and when he finally felt near, he dropped his Fury beneath the wroshyr canopy. Riding downward on repulsors, he controlled his descent until he'd reached the lower levels of the forest. He then opened the cockpit and threw himself to the nearest thick tree-trunk. Claws splintered bark and dug in hard. When he finally gained purchase, Lowbacca used the Force and gave the Fury's controls one more nudge. The ship descended once more, into the darkest depths of Kashyyyk's forest. It would never be found by anything besides the beasts that lurked down there.
That done, Lowbacca began to climb.
He hadn't done this in decades, perhaps over a century. It was a rite of passage for young Wookiees to venture into the forest depths, far below the cities, where dangerous plants and animals reigned. It was so far down barely any sun touched the tree-trunks, even at midday. The forests were full of darkness and danger and as a young Wookiee, Lowbacca had fund it exhilarating beyond words. He'd faced greater darkness and danger since, and lost more than he cared to remember. As he climbed steadily upward, clawing up bark and then pulling himself from branch to branch, he felt the weight of years slip slowly away. He felt his son grow nearer too, reaching out with the Force and telling his father it was going to be okay.
It wasn't as simple as that. Despite the moment's exhilaration he knew that Kashyyyk and the galaxy were at their lowest point in a century. The Empire would do its best to stamp out whatever resistance the Wookiees could mount. The Jedi Order was broken and scattered as it hadn't been since the days of Palpatine.
As he continued his climb toward his son, toward the light, his muscles ached with exhaustion. His chest labored for breath and his mind fell besieged by all he'd lost. He'd not felt Kol Skywalker's death as he'd felt Jade's, but the reports he'd picked up from the Sith fighter's comms were undeniable. There was no telling how many more Jedi he'd trained and fought with and cared about were dead. They'd gone to join a roll of the dead that for Lowbacca went back to the birth of the New Jedi Order. He could remember them all, faces blurred in memory but never gone: Kol and Jade and Arlen, his daughter Rallranarra, Jaina, Jacen, Anakin, Tahiri, Tenel Ka, Zekk, Jodram Tainer, Allana Djo, Ben Skywalker, his wife Katia, Leia Organa Solo, Mara Jade Skywalker, Luke Skywalker himself, too many more to count.
It was all so much.
After Arlen's death he'd been seized by the need for an ending. That was no longer the case. Even as his whole body screamed protest he kept climbing toward the Force beacon that was his son. He might have been the only Jedi left who remembered all those faces. As long he lived, someone remembered them still.
When he reached his son, Karrashchakuk pulled him onto the back of an old repulsor-sled and wrapped his father in a strong embrace. Lowbacca returned it with as much strength as he could manage. He heard a trill from the sled's controls and saw Sirrakuk bare her fangs happily.
As Lowbacca caught his breath his son started telling him about the Wookiee resistance. It was still in the earliest stages, but they'd already moved the supplies the Alliance had given them to the lower levels where the Imperials would never find them. There was still so much to do, from contacting other cells to selecting strategies. Karrashchakuk sounded eager to be do as much as he could, as fast as he could.
Lowbacca reminded him that being a good Jedi required patience. They'd figure things out in time. If they had faith, they'd prevail. He told his son and sister that. He told them the Empire had gone and it had come back and one day it leave again.
They were here to stay.
-{}-
Because the Galactic Alliance, naturally, had no throne for an emperor, one had to be installed for Roan Fel's first official audience. The vista selected was grand without being bombastic, a broad chamber with a low ceiling and a wide view of Galactic City's skyline. The metal throne had been specially constructed and installed within the past day. Morlish Veed had arranged both the site and the throne's creation, as he explained to Calixte and the other moffs as they waited for Fel to show. He spoke with the enthusiasm of a man who expected to sit on the throne himself, and she wanted to smack the fool before he gave away their entire plan. Thankfully, the emperor arrived before that happened.
It wasn't actually Roan Fel, but had Calixte not known otherwise she'd have been fooled. Despite being head of intelligence she knew little of Fel's body double, only that he existed and had once been a professional actor. The man must have been a loyal subject as well. He walked toward the throne and to his death with utmost regal dignity, the perfect image of a triumphant but sober monarch.
He brought four Imperial Knights with him, two men and two women. The impulsive younger one, Draco, was visibly absent but Calixte marked the emperor's cousin. As the procession passed by the kneeling moffs, Mohrgan Valtor didn't even dart an eye in her direction.
The moffs remained bowed as the body double lowered himself to the throne. With a proud and booming voice, Valtor said, "Rise! Behold Roan Fel, Emperor of the Galaxy!"
The moffs rose as one. The body double remained firm on his throne as Veed stepped forward.
"My beloved emperor," he said, "Thank you for calling us here today. I'm glad we can honor you in the place where you belong- Coruscant, the center of the galaxy. It has been one hundred and twenty-seven years since this world was in the hands of its rightful owners. We are all proud to be a part of this moment."
After that Veed began summarizing what everyone already knew, pronouncing each piece of victory with relish. "The Alliance navy has been dismantled. By your benevolent order, its enlisted men and lower-ranking officers will be sent home. Its admirals and captains have surrendered to our custody and await whatever judgment you see fit. Most pleasing of all, not a single Alliance world has refused the surrender order." Veed spread his hands. "Clearly, the entire galaxy recognizes the rightness of our cause."
The body double accepted Veed's grandstanding with a tiny nod.
The admiral continued, "All of the Galactic Alliance's government offices will remain in place. As we transition to the Empire their ruling triumvirate has agreed to remain, as well- under our command, of course. Finally… Ossus has fallen and the Jedi Order is broken. What Jedi remain are scattered throughout the galaxy." Veed couldn't keep the pride from his voice. "Your Imperial Majesty, my fellow moffs, the war is over and the galaxy is again ours."
The clatter of footsteps filled the hall and Veed turned. "Eh? Who is that? Who dares- Darth Krayt?"
Veed was no actor and his surprise was shallow, but she doubted anyone else noticed. The other moffs were genuinely taken aback by the figures who marched into the chamber. There was Darth Maladi of course, and also Kol's killer, Darth Nihl. Calixte forced her eyes off him and onto a Chagrian male, red and black tattoos swirling across his high-horned head. Maladi had mentioned a Darth Wyyrlok, apparently the third of his name, successor to his mother and grandfather who had all served their Dark Lord through the decades. This was clearly he.
And finally, there was Lord Krayt, Dark Lord of the Sith. He looked more animal than human, with mis-matched eyes of red and blue glaring through the holes of a savage helmet. His body was encased in rough armor, almost like a Yuuzhan Vong's. When Maladi had first told her about Darth Krayt, Calixte had struggled to believe it. Yet here he was, plain as fact: a Sith Lord almost two centuries old, architect of this great war and leader of a dark side cult that had laid low for a century to achieve this moment.
Calixte thought of herself as patient, cunning, and self-mastering. As Krayt strode past her she trembled with awe.
The four Sith walked straight to the throne. Calixte thought they might tear out their lightsabers and kill Fel's double right there, but instead they stopped before him. None bowed.
The emperor's double finally spoke. Pitch and intonation were a perfect match for Roan Fel's. "Ah, our Sith… allies. You're early. Lord Maladi, Lord Krayt, Lord Nihl. We had heard you were wounded at Ossus, but I see the reports were exaggerated. And Darth Wyyrlokk… The Empire owes you much. Our victory would not be possible without you. What reward would you name?"
Krayt's eyes narrowed beneath his mask and blue lightning sparked between his fingertips. "Your life, Emperor Fel."
Then they attacked. Fel's guards were ready. Mohrgan Valtor sprung forward, white saber in hand, and shouted, "Imperial Knights! Save your Emperor!"
Only Darth Krayt moved. Two lightsabers, both scarlet, emerged from his plated fists. Despite his massive size and thick armor he was swiftly among the Knights. Calixte watched, breathless, as he cleaved the arm off one Knight, and with the other blade speared the man through the chest, cutting off his agonized scream.
"Do not interfere!" Veed spread his arms. "You cannot stop this."
The moff beside him scowled. "Shut it, Veed. You knew this was going to happen!"
Quietly Veed said, "If that's so, Geist, you'd best choose your next words carefully."
Krayt was a storm. He reared back and pounded one foot into a Knight's chest, audibly cracking her ribs. Another Knight attacked him from behind, but her lightsaber scorched across his armor without cutting through. Krayt snapped an elbow back. Its jagged point drove into her skull and punched through, leaving a red hole in her forehead as she dropped dead to the ground. The Knight with the broken ribs tried to stand upright, which only made it easier for Krayt to take off her head.
Mohrgan Valtor interposed himself between Krayt and the body double, who cowered against the throne in honest terror. Krayt was on him with both sabers and Valtor managed to defend at first, but when he tried to strike a blow at Krayt's flank his white blade skidded pathetically off the armor.
Krayt swung two blades in parallel, doubling the force. Valtor tried to block them but his weapon was knocked from his hands. He looked at his empty palms, stunned, and then Krayt speared him upward through his chest. The impact lifted Valtor off his feet, and Krayt casually dumped his corpse on the ground.
Then he advanced on Fel's double. The poor man could only cower on his false throne as Krayt cut him once across the chest, severing head and shoulders from everything below. In pathetic pieces, the body slumped and spilled out of the throne.
The three other Sith remained where they were when the fight began, still as statues.
Slowly, purposefully, Krayt turned to his audience. "And what, you ask, is the meaning of this? Roan Fel never fully embraced the war or the idea of a unified galaxy. He went along with it as a political necessity. That's not what the Empire, and this galaxy, needs.
"The galaxy writhes in chaos and disorder. It requires a man of vision." He strode to the now-open throne and set himself upon it. "I am that man of vision. I am the new Emperor. Grand Admiral Morlish Veed, by virtue of your rank, you must be the first to swear fealty and loyalty to me."
With visible reluctance, Veed prostrated before the throne. "I so… swear, Your Excellency."
Krayt swung his ice-and-fire eyes to the other moffs. "Now, the rest of you."
They joined Veed on the ground immediately. "We so swear," they said as one.
"Go," said Krayt. "I will summon you again later. You will then learn how you will serve me."
The Imperials hurried from the throne room as if chased by monsters. Scowling, Veed whispered, "That wasn't the deal, Calixte! I was to be Emperor!"
"Morlish, you've been stabbed in the back by a Sith and you're surprised?" She shook her head. "Bide your time. Watch your tongue. The future is not yet written. You may yet become the new Emperor."
And she might yet survive this. As times Nyna Calixte had despaired of getting this far without falling to one lethal enemy or another. Yet she was here, and if Roan Fel had taken her advice, her position was secure for a time to come.
-{}-
The waste extraction system beneath the government sector of Galactic City was hardly fit for an emperor, but passage was required to claim his throne and Roan Fel hadn't hesitated to enter. He and Draco moved swiftly together down the path Calixte had specified. They wore dark cloaks over their armor and carried only their lightsabers. Both kept open to the Force, sensing for any Sith lying in ambush, but as yet they hadn't been betrayed.
"Your Majesty, what of the Princess Marasiah?" asked Draco.
"She's en route to Bastion. We'll contact her after we're away." He'd felt a small touch from Hogrum Chalk, saying that he and princess had secreted aboard a shuttle and were taking off.
They were getting close to the end of the path. Before passing through the final doors they drew their lightsabers and ignited them.
Past the threshold was a single ship: small, unarmed, but serviceable. As Roan and Draco stepped forward, objects moved out of the shadows: droids with round bodies and bending limbs tipped by small blasters.
"Halt, sentients," one droid blared. "This is a restricted area. Identify yourselves."
Only one thing for it. Roan and Draco moved at once, attacking the droids. The younger man was faster, taking down one droid with a vertical slash, then cutting another horizontally. Roan kicked himself in the air, using the Force to soar aboard another droid's sprayed laserfire before coming down on it hard, saber-blade like a spear. By the time he extricated himself Draco had cut down a fourth droid, leaving only one left. They moved on it together, easily batting back its blasts. Draco hung off at the last moment, allowing his emperor to get the kill.
As the droid clattered in pieces to the ground a fierce pain seized Roan's chest. He clasped it, afraid he'd been hit, then saw Draco wincing too. With pain came panic, but they both lasted mere seconds. Far away, Roan felt his cousin's life wink out.
Draco's face relaxed but went pale. "Mohrgan… The others…"
"I felt it, too." Fel let fresh anger smolder inside him. "We will honor their sacrifices and escape."
Draco looked at the broken machines. "Were we betrayed?"
"Just normal security droids. The Sith would have come themselves if they'd known." He jabbed his saber-tip at the shuttle. "Hurry, before they realize they've slain the wrong Knights."
"To the Jagged Fel, sir?"
"And from there to Bastion. Krayt may be swaying the moffs right now, but there are still those who will fight for the true emperor." His thoughts went back to Mohrgan, which in turn led them to Elliah and Vitor and his father. Every new wound the Sith gave him just turned the decades-old embers in his heart, keeping them warm for a future burn.
"Krayt has made the wrong enemy," Roan growled and cherished his anger. "Believe me, Draco, I look forward to teaching him the cost."
-{}-
It should have been a moment of triumph, but Darth Krayt bled dissatisfaction in the Force. His merciless battle against four Imperial Knights had impressed even Darth Nihl, but as Krayt looked down on the torn bodies his lips set into a scowl.
"Darth Maladi," he rumbled.
"What is your will, My Lord?"
"That was not Roan Fel! Explain yourself!"
"Master… He…"
"He was a double!" With a flick of a hand Krayt threw Maladi the ground. Nihl and Wyyrlok didn't move and didn't flinch, but deep inside Nihl scolded himself. Krayt's prowess and the thrill of victory blinded him to a simple fact: That had been too easy.
Krayt loomed over Maladi, red and blue eyes boring down on her. "The real Roan Fel could have resisted! He was a fully trained Jedi like his Imperial Knights! The true Roan Fel knew we were coming. He smelled a trap and has escaped. As head of intelligence you should have anticipated that!"
Maladi kept her head pressed to the floor. "You control the throne of the Empire, Dread Lord. By himself, Roan Fel is no danger to you."
"By himself, Fel is nothing. But much of the military and even some of the moffs are sympathetic to him! If he calls them him and they go, it could split the Empire!" The anger receded from Krayt's voice as he considered. "Still, it may be useful to find out which of the moffs and the military commanders are loyal to Fel personally and which simply to the throne, no matter who sits on it. Fel can delay us as we establish our vision of order, but he cannot stop it. The key will be to make certain Fel does not gain allies. He may seek out the Jedi…"
After how the Jedi had been betrayed at Mustafar that seemed unlikely, but anything was possible now. Fel was desperate. So were the Jedi and the renegade Alliance fleet under Gar Stazi. Alone none of them had a chance to toppling Sith rule. All three combined, however unlikely, could be a danger.
"Hunt the Jedi. Get others to hunt as well," Krayt said. "Ten times more for one alive than one dead. One might be turned. You failed me today, Maladi. Serve me better tomorrow. Begin to engage the hunters now. We must remain strong and ready. Leave me for now."
Maladi rose. She joined Nihl without meeting his eyes and they said together, "Yes, Master." Then, they stalked out of the throne room together, leaving Wyyrlok to confer with the Dark Lord in private.
"I should have sensed it," Nihl admitted. "That was a failure on both our parts."
"It was, but more mine than yours." Maladi seemed very composed for one who'd narrowly escaped Krayt's vengeance, but he'd never seen the woman otherwise. "Darth Krayt is still pleased with your killing Kol Skywalker. Almost as pleased as you are with yourself."
"Kol Skywalker was the greatest of the Jedi. I have every reason to be proud."
"I'm not arguing. Just remember, nothing lasts forever. Especially Krayt's favor."
Nihl knew that. There were many more Jedi to hunt. Fel and Stazi remained threats. The Sith were triumphant, but there were still obstacles to achieving perfect order. He thought on them and was not intimidated. He had come this far and had no reason to doubt he could go further.
With the dark side as his ally, he had no doubts at all.
-{}-
The Mon Calamari cruiser was called Mon Sepor, and though it was a mighty ship it looked lonely and vulnerable as it sat in empty space beyond Hypori. That, at any rate, was what Marin Solo thought when she first saw it through Starlight Champion's cockpit. To her, everything seemed lonely and vulnerable now.
She'd barely talked with Nat on the long ride here and hadn't spoken to the Jedi at all. Everything seemed to exist in a vague dream state where time and action meant nothing. She was waiting to feel something. She knew there was all kind of emotional pain to come: grief, regret, self-loathing, desperation and delusion. For now, it was all dulled and distant.
A mere five ships had escaped Torn Station. They looked meager as they huddled on Mon Sepor's flight deck, and the Mon Calamari captain was visibly disappointed that less than three hundred of the promised fifty thousand of Slossar's bitter-enders had made it.
Starlight Champion set down next to the Bottom Line, and Marin stood with her mother in the shadow of the latter's bow, watching the captain speak with the handful of Jedi who'd survived. Nat was with them but he stood slightly apart, visibly uncomfortable. They'd heard there had been a massacre at Ossus with hundreds of Jedi killed and the survivors scattered and fugitive. Nat's brother was reportedly among the dead. The worst of Arlen's and Kol's imagining had come true, and though they'd made contingencies neither had survived to see them.
That was something else that would hurt later, but not now.
Eventually the conversation broke. Jedi drifted in different directions but Nat came back toward Marin with the Master Zho Tuum in his shadow.
"They said thanks for the help." Nat folded his arms over his chest. "Which I guess is all there is to say."
"Are the Jedi going to be staying with the fleet?" Marin asked Zho Tuum.
The Cathar shook his long-furred head. "Most of us will be leaving. There are too few us to do Stazi much good. Knight Konar will stay with him for a time, if the Jedi need a liaison with the Alliance."
"What's left of it," said Tamar.
Zho Tuum simply nodded.
"So that's it?" asked Marin. "You'll just scatter?"
"Scatter, go to ground. Wait, watch, listen," Tamar said. "We call it ba'slan shev'la. Our clan's done it before. We're doing it again now. It got us through the Empire once, and other osik besides."
Zho Tuum growled thoughtfully. "Perhaps we can stand to learn some things from your kind."
Tamar laughed once, very dry. "Vice-versa too. But don't tell Mekr that."
"Are you going with them?" Nat asked Marin.
"I don't have anywhere else to go. Or anyone to go with. So yeah, I think I'll lay low for a while." She let a hand fall to her side. Her mother took it and squeezed.
"What about Champion?" Nat tilted his head to the other ship.
She'd thought about that on the way here. It held so many memories of her father. Keeping it would hurt, once she got around to feeling hurt, but somehow she knew giving it up would hurt even more.
"I guess I'll keep it. Unless you want it."
"Nah. I'm hitching a ride with this guy." He thumbed at Master Tuum. "Gonna get a kindly drop-off at Kiffex."
"Droo and the kits?"
"Yeah." Nat looked away, ashamed that he still had loved ones to go to. Marin didn't begrudge him that, but she didn't know how to say it.
After Zho Tuum excused himself, Nat went to go remove his belongings from Starlight Champion. Marin followed, though there wasn't much she could do. He'd brought all he had in one bag. Before they walked down the landing ramp they paused and faced each other awkwardly in the hallway. She looked into that face, with its heavy eyes, thick jowls, and straggly gray beard. He was younger than her by seven years, but he looked older. She tried to map the face to that of the eager teenage apprentice who remained only in her memory and failed. They'd both been transformed, no longer Jedi but something else, two uncertain things. Nat had been one of the few people who'd carried over across the stages of her life. Now she wasn't sure if she'd ever see him again.
She extended a hand. Nat shook it firmly. "Any idea where you're going?" he asked.
"No idea. Might drift for a while. You going to stay on Kiffex?"
"I dunno. Droo and me talked about setting up someplace else, someplace out the way where we can start a little business."
"You're going to end up running a junkyard on some osikla Outer Rim planet, aren't you?"
"Well, it'd be quiet." His hands fell to his sides. "You know, you might be a fugitive, but you're also filthy rich, aren't you?"
"You mean all those Jedi credit accounts? I gave the access info for Master Tuum. He can pass it on to what's left of the Jedi Council and they can use it however they need to. The Calrissians still have ownership, but I'm not sure how they're going to fare under the new regime."
"Yeah. It'll be harder for them to lie low."
Marin nodded. Calrissians were friends of the Jedi and the Sith knew that. She hoped it wouldn't come back on them. It would mean another layer of guilt and grief if something happened to Chance, Chereth, even Volgma.
They remained in the hallway, facing but not looking at each other. There wasn't anything to say but neither wanted to leave. A noise came from the base of the ramp. Marin looked down and saw her mother coming up.
"Time to get moving," her cousin said.
"I hope we'll see you around some day, Nat."
"Bantha," he reminded her. "Bantha Rawk."
"Right. I'll remember." She smiled and almost felt it. Nat turned and walked down the ramp, exchanging a curt nod with Tamar and nothing more.
Marin's mother joined her inside the ship. She was carrying a bag of her own, no bigger than Nat's.
"You pack light," Marin said.
"I've got stuff on Mekr's ship. We'll head out together."
"But you'll be here?"
"I figured you'd need a co-pilot. I am still capable."
"I know, Mom. Thank you."
Tamar sighed, reached out, and placed dry fingertips on her daughter's hand. "I miss him too. That damned Jedi… If I'd never run into your buir..." She smiled, wistful and sad. "I think I got more out of him than I deserved."
"He'd probably agree."
"Yeah. He probably would." Still smiling.
As they walked together toward the cockpit, Marin asked, "So we'll just run and hide now? That's it?"
"We've got to survive. You can't do anything extra if you're dead."
"But is survival enough?"
Tamar squeezed her hand and whispered, "Sometimes it has to be."
-{}-
Over the past three years it had become almost habit for Nyna Calixte to walk into her supposedly-secure quarters and discover Darth Maladi waiting for her. Therefore she took it altogether well when she stepped into her hotel room on Coruscant and found a red lightsaber blade at her neck. She glanced sidelong and saw Maladi in the shadows, looking almost perturbed.
"Roan Fel has escaped. The one who died was his double," the Sith said, matter-of-fact. "My master is not pleased, and I sense your hand in this, Nyna Calixte."
Just as she'd been prepared for Roan Fel's wrath, she was prepared for this too. The difference was that she'd gone into the confrontation with Fel fairly certain he wouldn't kill her, if only because he imagined himself servant to the Force's light side. Maladi would have no limitations.
"You underestimated Fel," she said. "You need my help."
"No."
"If Fel is free, you'll need the Moffs united. For that, you'll need Veed. And for that, you'll need me." She stepped carefully into her quarters, boldly stepping out of the lightsaber's swiping range. Maladi let her keep her head but angled the blade toward her sternum.
She'd survived so much already and she'd get through this. Calixte's smile was tight and sincere as she explained, "Morlish is feeling betrayed by you at the moment. He's had such dreams, you see. I can convince him it's in his best interests to wait for now and obey."
Maladi looked at her, considering, for so long Calixte almost began to worry. Finally the Sith said, "I wonder, if I dissected your mind, would I learn the truth about you?"
"Would that serve your best interests? Are we not both better off as allies?"
Maladi angled to face her. The Sith let her lightsaber shrink off and stepped close. "No. You will serve, however. You still manage all Imperial security and espionage activities but you will report to me. Your first assignment: find Roan Fel."
Maladi spun on a heel and stepped halfway out the door before turning to give one last intimidating look. "Your plots, your betrayals, your desire for control…. Had you Force ability, you might have made a good Sith- under Darth Sidious. Under Darth Krayt, we are a different breed."
Maladi marched out the door, leaving Calixte alone in her quarters. She whispered softly, "So you believe, Lady Maladi… and that will be the knife that kills you."
The Sith had shown they weren't lacking for savagery or ambition. Kol had told her once that the dark side of the Force was like a narcotic. The more you drew on it, hoping to control its power, it ended up controlling you. The Sith were patient and clever, but also contained the seed of their own demise.
So Calixte would wait. She felt the confidence that had been building inside her finally overflow. She'd outwitted Veed, Fel, Maladi, the Dark Lord of the Sith himself. She's survived and reached heights of power and influence she'd only dreamed of as Morrigan Corde.
Her heart wavered when she thought of Kol and Cade, but she pushed them into that cold place inside that felt all the more distant. Today was a victory. Calixte walked over to the window and looked out at the skyline of Coruscant, soon to be officially returned to its proper name of Imperial Center. The sun had slipped beneath the towers and the sky was violet fast dimming to black. Countless window-lights glowed to mark the trillions whose lives continued onward, unaware or stubbornly unheeding of the history that had been made today.
Tomorrow the sun would rise, the shadows would retreat, and light would shine on those towers once more. Tomorrow was also a day, and it would be unlike the ones that had gone before. Even the most determined would not be able to ignore the fact forever.
Content with her place in the new order of things, Nyna Calixte turned from the bright night and began planning for day.
