SotP Tales - Prelude to Twilight

by SLotH4

The Force whispers to those who hear its call. It offers glimpses of the future and past, of possibility and certainty, of truth and deception. But the Force is fickle, and the insight it offers can drive men mad and attract the eye of things best hidden. In the midst of a polarized Jedi Order on the brink of ruin, Daniel Skywalker seeks guidance only the Force can provide.

9. Tython - Vision of Purpose

SotP Tales - Prelude to Twilight

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PART IX

Tython – Vision of Purpose

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Leaving Mortis had been much simpler than entering it. Daniel wasn't sure of the mechanics behind the Monolith, but from what Ludex had implied, you simply kept flying upwards or outward and eventually you would just… appear on the outside. That had been an… explanation. One that was accepted to various degrees by the party.

Personally, Daniel didn't feel especially compelled to figure out exactly how it worked – at least not now. Vodal believed it was tied to the Song and whatever was directing the artificial reality inside it.

The question of what to do with the Monolith was something that Daniel and his fellow Councilors had briefly discussed on the ensuing flight. They were making their way to a world he'd never heard of – a major outpost of the Quabular, apparently. Ludex had suggested everyone regroup there, though he hadn't explained how he was going to get there himself – he wasn't accompanying them on the Falcon.

The discussion between all of them had, indeed, been brief. This had solely included the Jedi – Viola and Sashal were allies, but this was something that needed to be discussed by the Jedi themselves. Vodal had also been excluded for now, though Daniel wasn't entirely pleased with that. Vodal was no Jedi, but he had – somehow – been on the right track. Or at least, more than any of them had been.

Something for later.

All of them agreed that any decisions relating to the Monolith was probably best done in conjunction with the Force-wielder in question, especially since it sounded like it was still being used. It was almost a shame that this likely wouldn't become a major project – Daniel felt that there would be so many who would eagerly throw themselves into the puzzle that was Mortis.

No matter if what they learned was for the better or worse.

There had not been much discussion on everything that had been experienced and seen yet. They agreed Mortis was not the most suitable place to hold that discussion, given the prevalence of the Song, as well as the fact that Ludex was almost certainly observing them closely. He seemed like he was reliable, in the sense that he wasn't a threat.

He was not, however, someone who should be trusted. Not yet, anyway.

Nor was it best to talk on Dokur, the Quabular world they were going to. The Quabular were a group which was… odd, and controversial to put it lightly. They were a small order that largely kept to themselves, and operated in the Outer Rim. Occasionally, they ventured deeper into the Core, but that was rare.

Their own trials were a source of discussion in the Jedi Order – disagreements whether to classify them as a dark side cult or not. Their trials involved falling to the dark side – not a pretend illusion, but a deliberate attempt to make the candidate in question succumb to their own desires and ambitions.

A ritual which had as many failures as successes – and the failures were often violent.

Daniel understood the philosophical argument for such a ritual – there was nothing that illuminated the corruptive and all-consuming nature of the dark side than experiencing it firsthand. If one could pull themselves back from the brink, they were not only strong of will, but also character and conviction.

However… the entire experience was playing with fire, and the Shadows and Militant Order had a particular hatred of the Quabular since some of the most dangerous Dark Jedi and rogue Force-users originally came from the disciplined and skilled Quabular who had 'failed' their trials.

More to the point, Daniel was against deliberately setting your students up for failure, even if one could argue it was for their own good. The benefits he was skeptical of, as while there was a difference in methods, there were much less destructive ways of showing the dangers of the dark side than forcing them to fall.

It didn't help that those kinds of methods were already on the cusp of what was considered acceptable, and it would not be out of the ordinary in an actual Sith Order, much less one which was purportedly on the side of the light. Though the Quabular were… not really Jedi, their view of the Force was not necessarily gray, as they understood the danger of the dark, but they were hardly unquestionably benevolent.

Especially if they were associated with a Force-wielder.

It made him reassess everything he knew about the Quabular, now that he knew their patron.

He felt this ambiguity as he walked the Quabular camps of Dokur. The Quabular Knights – or 'Herrga,' as they called themselves – watched the small entourage under their hoods with an air of… not suspicion, but wariness. Eyes seen and unseen were laid upon them, faces shrouded in hoods, helmets, and masks. They made no secret of resting their hands on their lightsabers, and Daniel knew enough of their tactics to tell they were positioning themselves.

And then Ludex arrived.

It had not been a grandiose entrance, but simply walking into the hangar where they were waiting. The air had immediately shifted. Murmured words of deference, in a language he couldn't make out were heard. The Knights relaxed, and stepped aside as he walked past. A few fell to one knee. Even if they didn't know the truth of who he was, they respected him and his authority.

"Come, Jedi." Ludex motioned for them to follow. "It is not far."

He led them deeper into the camp, and they were offered a glimpse of the lives of these Force-users. There were not many, but Daniel saw more of them. Men and women of various species who wore not the Quabular robes, but simple civilian attire. It was hardly a bustling city, but there was a small market here.

To the side he noted a training ground, where one of the Quabular oversaw lightsaber training between a half-dozen youths. It reminded him to a small degree of Yavin 4, and seeing the younglings who would one day be the future of the Order.

Truly wonderful, the minds of children are.

Yet no matter where they went, no matter how far they walked, or what buildings they passed, there were Quabular seeded throughout. Observers, guards, he wasn't certain what their role was – but their shrouded faces and pointed cowls were angled in their direction. No matter if Ludex led them, they were strangers here.

And strangers were to be watched.

Ludex led them toward one of the larger buildings, and then deeper within it until they reached a small room which was guarded by two more Quabular. With a wave of his hand, they stood aside as Ludex opened the thick stone door. No gears or mechanics – simply anchored through weight and physics, and lifted by the Force.

Inside the room was nothing but a black box. Daniel had a feeling he knew what was in it.

"I thought it would be more secure," he commented dryly.

The box seemed suspiciously low-tech. It only had two latches, which weren't even locked. The box was small enough that he could grab the handle and walk out with it without issue.

Ludex seemed amused at the comment. "One would have to bypass the guards and lift the stone itself. And even if they entered, there is little that is appealing about a mere dagger."

He unlatched the box, and opened the lid. Rising from the black cloth within, the item hovered several centimeters above the box. The Dagger of Mortis. Exactly as it had appeared in the vision, though it was ever so slightly more real now that it was in-person. So deceptively plain.

"And even if one wished to try and steal it," Ludex continued, "such an act is usually… fatal." He nodded to it. "I would suggest you not pick it up."

Pon glanced behind at the stone door, which had been lowered behind them. "How many know what it is?"

"Few. It is a secret for a reason." Ludex lifted the box and closed it around the hovering dagger, clicking the latches back into place. "While it would rend most mortal beings apart, as you saw with Asajj Ventress, there are some who could withstand its power. Some of you are likely among that number."

"Out of curiosity, who in your estimation?" Daniel asked.

Ludex raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps yourself, Skywalker. You hold the power, though you are faded and old." He scanned the group. "You would likely be able to wield it, Master Yaden, and you as well, Wrath. And of course, yourself, Vodal."

"I'm honored." Vodal inclined his head.

"Sorry you were snubbed," Daniel said to Pon beside him, only half-apologetically.

Pon snorted at the ribbing. "I do not believe he is wrong. After seeing what it does to the wielder, I suspect I would fare no better."

"My question is what you do with it," Viola spoke, pacing the room, her eyes narrowed at Ludex, "I suspect you are not hiding it away forever. Who knows how to wield it?"

"Knows?" Ludex lifted an eyebrow. "Dear Wrath, there is no one who knows how to wield its power. There are only those who have endured it."

She nodded. "Specifically?"

"Those who sit upon the Kaarnan – though even they are incapable of doing such for long," Ludex answered, "They are hardly masters – and I suspect they never would be. It was not meant to be wielded by mortal hands."

"Only those who understand the Song," Vodal hummed, sounding half-distracted, "It would stand to reason that those who command the Song would be able to tune its power. An instrument for the conductor."

"An apt metaphor," Ludex agreed.

"I wonder," Pon mused as he looked at the box that held the dagger, "More such creations must exist, no? This civilization – the sharu – surely they left relics and artifacts that function in a similar way outside of the Monolith."

"Perhaps. I do not know for sure," Ludex sounded skeptical, "What I am certain of is this: the sharu are old. Old enough where there is almost no trace of them anywhere in the galaxy – older than the rakata, perhaps even the gree, perhaps older than that. There is much of the galaxy we do not know."

"And if not them," Daniel wondered, "would there not be others? They alone could not be the only ones who learned this."

"It would stand to reason you are correct." Ludex nodded. "Yet in all my eons of existence, they have been the only ones I have encountered."

＜＜And how would we know this for sure?＞＞ Lowbacca asked, ＜＜If a comprehensive effort has not been made to investigate this, it should be rectified. There must be more than the sharu who knew this. It is a question that must be answered.＞＞

"I agree, but that is not a question I can answer." Ludex stroked his beard. "It requires a focus, resources, and dedication I have been unable to provide. Powerful I may be, but I am one individual. However, perhaps that must change. If there are more of these artifacts to be uncovered, best they are in our hands. Though that is a secondary priority to the steps that we must take now."

"You have a plan?" Daniel asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes," Ludex said, "The Force-wielders must return to face the chaos that will engulf this galaxy. You have seen the future, Skywalker. I have as well, and upheaval is unavoidable – and it will be worse than anything the galaxy has experienced since the Force Wars." He shook his head. "We have not the time to develop them naturally, thus, there must be certain… actions taken."

Lowbacca cocked his head. ＜＜The Force Wars. Not what comes to mind when one imagines galactic upheaval.＞＞

"Only because you do not know your own history, Jedi," Ludex said firmly, but not unkindly, "A history deliberately forgotten, and as such, your ignorance is forgiven."

Daniel frowned at that. "Explain."

"I am curious, Skywalker." Ludex peered into his eyes. "How deeply have the Jedi explored Tython?"

Daniel and Lowbacca exchanged a look.

＜＜We are making progress,＞＞ Lowbacca said, ＜＜Not as explored as we would prefer – though the last frontier are the tunnels and caves the weave across the planet.＞＞

"Curious." Ludex pressed the tips of his fingers together. "You are unaware of the Thought Bomb."

Daniel's eyebrows almost left his face at that. Ripples of shock and surprise were similarly echoed by the Jedi present. "Pardon me, could you repeat that?"

"The Thought Bomb. Not surprising the Jedi had yet to discover it. I suspect the few Je'daii who survived the end of the Force Wars remade the land around it. But yes, Jedi, there is a Thought Bomb on Tython. One of the first."

"Impossible. We would have sensed it," Pon said, less to Ludex, and more in general, "A Thought Bomb is not hidden in the Force."

"I concur," Yaden added, "Few have existed, but we have always found them. They are aspects of pain and anguish; they scream out through the Force. They chill the worlds they rest upon, alter the environments and creatures within them. Ruusan once held a Thought Bomb. The world still hasn't recovered."

"The reason for this, I suspect, is because there were likely certain precautions taken," Ludex explained, "Tython is strong in the Force because it was home of the Je'daii, and the Force-wielders augmented their planet to be a conduit for their power. The Force itself smothers much of the planet, and I would expect they wove the Force to… insulate the Thought Bomb to a degree. Though the closer one gets, the more it will affect them."

Daniel exchanged a look with Yaden. "If there is a Thought Bomb on Tython, we need to destroy it."

There would be no argument from any of the Jedi. The Thought Bomb was one of the most horrific manifestations of the Force imaginable. It was a reality of eternal torment for the condemned. Daniel remembered reading descriptions of when Kyle Katarn destroyed the Thought Bomb on Ruusan, as well as Darth Bane's own commentary when he had employed it.

"Indeed, that is what I also intend," Ludex agreed, "However, there is more than just destroying the Thought Bomb. It contains the spirits of thousands of Je'daii… thousands of Force-wielders. That is power and knowledge that must be employed."

"Absolutely not," Lara snapped, instantly outraged, "We will not free these spirits only to enslave them to our will."

Ludex shook his head sadly, his voice gentle. "Master Ritten, if the spirits left were sapient, then I would agree," he said, explaining, not condescending, "The Thought Bomb has destroyed any semblance of personality or spirit that existed. There are no spirits in the Thought Bomb, Lara. There are only fractured pieces; disjointed thoughts and emotions. Shredded wisps and fragments of those who once were."

He returned his attention to Daniel. "We will unfortunately not have the spirits of thousands of Force-wielders – the Thought Bomb reduced all within it to scraps. Yet I can remold the pieces that remain into cohesive spirits of power – and bind them to certain people that can be trusted to wield this power."

Daniel thought back to the visions of how the Ones were created. "That sounds like that could backfire. You remember your own creation."

"I have… put considerable thought into refining the procedure," Ludex said slowly, "And honestly, these would not be true Force-wielders. It would be similar to what Valkorian intended to offer Nox – with fewer threats."

"Knowing how spirits function, they would need to be willing," Vodal noted, "Any reassembled entity would once more become sapient, but contain the echoes of the many they once were."

"They would, however, I suspect there would be little hesitation," Ludex said, "They were freed from an eternity of torment. More to the point, this is necessary to prepare for what is coming. I would have done this earlier, yet even I would be unable to perform this on Tython without notice. Should I have the support of the Jedi, it would go… smoother."

"That it would," Daniel said, thinking. He looked around the room at the Jedi. "We need to discuss this further. If we go ahead with this – then we need to reach a consensus. Which will not be here."

Ludex nodded once. "Go, Jedi. I will be here when you return."

---

The Falcon floated in orbit above the planet, with its only occupants being the Jedi. The others remained on the planet, enjoying the hospitality of the Quabular. Yaden may have been overly paranoid, but Daniel certainly wasn't going to argue with the need for privacy. A quick search of the ship had ensured the Quabular hadn't put any devices on it, and so they were able to talk.

Nominally in private.

Yaden said the first thing on everyone's mind, "Do you think he can be trusted?"

"Yes and no," Daniel answered after some thought, "I trust him to be up front about what he wants from us. What he actually intends in the long-term…?" He flicked a wrist. "Less so."

＜＜It is ignoring another question,＞＞ Lowbacca growled, ＜＜If we even have a choice at all.＞＞

"It is an inconvenient fact," Pon agreed, his arms crossed, "I suppose it is fortunate that one of, if not the only one of these entities left alive is not inherently hostile to us."

"Because we're useful to him," Yaden muttered, "It isn't complicated."

"Ludex's demeanor is a welcome surprise, but I'm not certain that's guaranteed to last," Daniel said slowly, exchanging a glance with Yaden, as both of them seemed to be on the same page, "I do not know what his long-term goals truly are, and I am doubtful that he's sharing everything with us. As Yaden said – we have some part in his plan. He won't be a threat – for now."

"He showed us the dagger," Arnica pointed out, "The one thing that was shown to hurt his kind. He didn't have to do that, or show us what happened on Mortis."

"True, but I suspect he showed it because it didn't matter if we knew it or not," Yaden said, "Lowbacca is right – regardless of our reservations, we have little choice but to listen and work with him. He is certain that there is going to be upheaval in the galaxy – it is an ominous sign."

"But one I believe," Daniel said, "I've seen too much now to expect otherwise. What will change is how we can adapt."

"And how can we adapt?" Pon asked, "What we have learned, even speculatively, is enough to upend millennia of established beliefs. About the Force. About the Jedi. About the galaxy itself. We can't pretend this does not change things."

"So we don't," Lara said, "As far as I see it – our mission does not change. Daniel started this quest to learn the truth, no matter what it was. And now we know. And things do need to change."

"The question now is how this change happens," Daniel finished, "Our time is short – mere years, I fear. We need to take extreme measures to prepare for and prevent the worst. I think that Ludex is part of it. He appears uninterested in the minutia of rule, and we do not need to fear him on that front – but he is planning for something worse."

"The sharu, or others like them?" Arnica asked.

"I'm not sure it's that specific," Pon pondered, "The sharu appear to be gone. No, I think it was whatever even they were afraid of. Or perhaps it is simply those who can… use whatever that Music was on Mortis. That power."

"Agreed." Yaden nodded. "That is what Ludex appears to fear. Something that can even render him impotent, let alone us mere mortals. That is what he wants to protect against, and learn."

"Something I believe we'll need Vodal for," Daniel said, "He… somehow figured out its existence, even by accident."

"For better or worse," Yaden muttered, "Not him alone though. We need a joint effort here. All of our allies and friends primed and prepared. We have knowledge now, we need to begin applying it in a practical way, because as you said, the days are counting down."

"Ludex's plan for the Thought Bomb is feasible," Daniel said, "If for no other reason than he appears willing to grant others the powers of the Force-wielders."

"Through a process he controls," Pon pointed out.

"True, but it is something," Daniel said, rubbing his forehead, "And unfortunately, we have to rely on him for that. A Thought Bomb on Tython… Nara-Ro told me that the Force Wars were more extensive than any of us believed. I suppose I didn't expect its legacy to remain in this form."

＜＜None of us did, it would seem,＞＞ Lowbacca said, ＜＜Such was hinted to in the legends, as I have mentioned earlier. Perhaps not so fantastical as we had wondered… I will need to ask him questions, and I suspect he could tell me much. So long as I could cross-check it later.＞＞

"So we will go to Tython, eventually," Daniel said, nodding to Yaden, "First though, you are right that we need to begin making decisions and preparations. In the Alliance. In the Imperium. Even in the Sith."

"A plan I fear will backfire," Pon said, "One woman is hardly reflective of their Order."

"Perhaps, but the worst-case is that it sows division in their own ranks." Daniel stood his ground. "And you've seen Sashal – she is not corrupted. Nor are others in her ranks. She is not the only one, and these are not the same Sith we are familiar with. We are going to need them – and if we wish to survive, we must look to any allies we can."

"I remain skeptical of this, Daniel," Yaden said, though resigned, "but I will defer to you until given a reason otherwise. The Imperium we need to return to though."

"I imagine the Sovereigns will be very interested in what we learned," Pon said, amused.

"I'm sure they will." Daniel rubbed his chin. "And I have an idea for the next steps we can take."

---

Returning to the Empire was always going to be an interesting debrief, and there was some debate as to how they were going to explain everything that had happened, not to mention what the current plans were to move forward. Daniel believed that this would only be successful if everyone was on the same side, working to the same goal, and dedicating the same focus to the next steps.

What remained to be seen was if the Empire would go along with it.

Viola seemed confident that the Sovereigns would be amenable, though there was skepticism among the Jedi. Not that the Sovereigns would believe them, but in what they would do in response. That the Quabular were effectively confirmed to be compromised by a Force-wielder was a revelation that Viola warned was going to be taken… well, poorly in all likelihood.

The Quabular had apparently been making deeper connections with the Imperial Knights, and Imperium as a whole in recent years. The current High Lord of the Imperial Council had returned a few years back after his own stint with the Quabular. Viola was uncertain as to what the ramifications would be of that.

"High Lord Calliot is a man with few peers," she'd said as they walked again the halls leading to the Sovereigns, "His loyalty to the Imperium seems unquestioned, yet now I wonder…" She pursed her lips, shaking her head. "Everyone had questions about him, and his skills, but he gave no reason to doubt him."

"But…?" Daniel prodded.

"But he's been driving Imperial Knight policy for a long time now," she finally said, "In particular, pursuing closer collaboration with the Quabular, investigating anomalies like Mortis, and renewing an interest in Voss. His actions have been logical, and I accept the arguments for doing each, but I fear he may have had ulterior motives."

"Such as?" he wondered.

"That's what I'm uncertain about," she said, "I don't know. I doubt he is a traitor – or if he is, he is a very, very good liar."

Daniel didn't have a desire to interfere more in this matter – it was clearly an internal Imperial affair, and that was something they were going to have to resolve on their own. He was here alone this time, with only Viola as his escort. Not all of them needed to return to Bastion, and if anyone should deliver an update, it was him.

Yaden had been opposed to a solo visit, but of all the things Daniel feared, it was not a visit to the Empire. For while they might have disagreements with the Imperium, they were actors he trusted to not kill him. Perhaps not a high enough standard, but there was an understanding he didn't expect the Sovereigns to violate.

Besides, it was only for a few hours.

However, Daniel noticed that their entrance into the Throne Room was not the same as it had been their first time.

There seemed to be – no, there were – more Guardsmen than he remembered. If his quick estimation was correct, their numbers seemed to have almost doubled as they stood along the walls, stairways, and near the thrones themselves. More notably, as the Sovereigns sat on their thrones, there were a collection of four other men and women in attendance.

Viola did not outwardly react, but he could feel her spike of surprise – she had clearly not expected this either. Daniel didn't need an introduction to know who the people gathered were – he'd seen their faces in intelligence reports, holovids, media appearances, propaganda, and many, many other places. Some more than others.

The rest of the Imperial Council, of the Imperial Knights, had also come to attend this meeting.

Perhaps he should have brought Yaden along.

Iyamad Flovan, Knight Commander of the Imperial Knights, an accomplished warrior, strategist, and someone who had a playful rivalry with the Jedi Order. Daniel had met her multiple times, even if her main point of contact in the Order was Shartan. Reasonable, if militaristic – as expected from someone in her position – and extremely skilled at what she did. She stood clad in her silver-black armor, not quite as bulky as Shartan's, but extremely durable.

The man in simple black robes was Aegoth Osoad, Keeper of the Maw, and the one that Daniel knew the least about – nor had they ever actually met in-person. The Maw were secretive, even within the Imperial Knights, and even the Jedi had difficulty ascertaining exactly what they did. Yet it was speculated that Osoad was one of the most powerful and accomplished scholars in the Empire – the entire pursuit of the Maw was attaining knowledge, forbidden and otherwise. He knew better than to underestimate the lithe miraluka.

Ravarian was also present, and gave a short nod toward Daniel as he approached. But it was the final figure that Daniel saw which made him suspect there was something more going on. Reimunt Calliot, High Lord of the Imperial Council stood tall and distinguished in his Imperial-style Quabular robes, the one many believed to be one of the most accomplished Imperials in the history of the Imperium.

A duelist with few equals, a tactical master, a man of charisma and knowledge that cultivated loyalty, there was little that Calliot was not. Few could find many flaws with him, and even the most anti-Imperial person would have to admit that Calliot broke many stereotypes and expectations of what an Imperial was.

He was as close to perfect as one could be in the Empire – almost too perfect.

Now, Daniel had an idea as to what could be behind this man's skills and demeanor.

Once they stood before the thrones, Viola fell to one knee.

"Grand Master Skywalker, welcome," Emperor Vorn Pellaeon began, and the slight talk among the gathered Imperial Council ceased as they stood before the thrones, facing Daniel and Viola, "Rise, Wrath, you have done well."

Viola stood. "Thank you, milord."

Daniel appraised the others. "I didn't expect a larger audience this time around."

"While Wrath Lorentzen's report was vague, it was significant enough to involve the rest of the Imperial Council," Empress Enora said with a thin smile, two fingers resting on her cheek as she appraised him, "You managed to penetrate the Monolith – the Maw is particularly curious about what you found inside."

"Indeed, Grand Master," Osoad stepped forward, his voice coiled with anticipation, "The Monolith was an artifact we had abandoned hope of penetrating. Anything you could share as to how you overcame the inherent defenses would be greatly appreciated."

Daniel looked around the room. "You may wish your guards to leave for this. It is sensitive."

"They stay this time," Vorn said in a voice which brooked no room for argument, "Speak now, Daniel Skywalker. Tell me what you learned."

Neither Vorn nor Enora were ignorant as to the scale of what he was talking about. If they were willing to overrule that, there was something more going on, and he had a suspicion as to what that could be. However, he was not going to spread this beyond what was necessary. "Respectfully, your Majesty, no. I can accept your Imperial Council being informed of what we have learned – but I will not share when the rest of your guards are present. They do not need to know."

Vorn didn't seem offended that he pushed back, even if his brow furrowed. He turned his eyes to Viola. "Do you concur, Wrath?"

"I do, milord," she nodded once.

Daniel expected her to elaborate more, but she did not.

Vorn leaned back into his throne. "Very well."

"Clear the room!" Enora ordered, and the rest of the Guardsmen filed out, leaving only the Sovereigns, the Imperial Council, and the lone Jedi Master inside it. When the doors finally closed, Enora rested her hands over one crossed knee. "Now, Grand Master, do tell what necessitates such secrecy."

"Of course." Daniel nodded. "This will take some time."

And time it did take – Daniel didn't know how long he ended up talking for, but explaining their entrance to Mortis, describing the place itself, the visions they experienced, the meeting with Ludex, the Dagger of Mortis, and concluding with the Force-wielder's own explanations and plans was not a short discussion. Viola added in her own comments here and there, but it was primarily him telling the story.

As he told it, he made a point to note the reactions of those present.

Vorn and Ravarian kept themselves highly impassive during the retelling, with only minimal showings of reaction. He wasn't extremely surprised by that. Enora did quite a lot of eyebrow raising, but it was clear she was utterly enraptured by what was being said. She didn't interrupt much, seeming content to listen.

Osoad was predictably one of the most engaged, especially when he talked about Mortis itself. He seemed torn between amazement, disbelief, and a near-horror at what was being described – one of the most honest reactions Daniel could reasonably expect, which made sense given his position.

Flovan had definitely been apprised of the general overview of his mission, and likely what he had told them in the previous meeting, but she seemed the most incredulous and skeptical out of all of them, though didn't say as much. By the end, her skepticism had given way to clear concern.

Calliot… was very interesting.

Daniel had a very good sense of when people were lying, and Calliot was not as good of a liar as he seemed to think he was. He appeared to have not been apprised of the previous discussions he had been a part of, and seemed to alternate between stoic indifference, curiosity, and skepticism – unable to stick to one.

He was good though – a casual observer would likely believe his reaction, but Daniel could determine that it was definitely controlled – and that there were at least some portions of this that were definitely not surprising. Calliot didn't speak or interrupt, but once he had started talking about Ludex, his eyes had widened in the first burst of genuine surprise.

Not surprise in learning that a Force-wielder existed, surprise that said Force-wielder was making this move.

And one final thing of note he had seen was that both Viola and Enora were quietly watching Calliot as well. And if he was noticing this, then it stood to reason both of them would as well. The Empire had clearly not been idle while they'd been gone, and had developed some suspicions independent of him.

This promised to be interesting.

Now finished, he waited for what would come next.

"I must confess," Enora sounded quite reflective, "of all the directions this path could have taken, this was not the one I expected it to do."

"Neither did I, your Majesty," Daniel said, "Nonetheless, this is likely a better outcome than the possible alternatives."

"Perhaps, that depends on a few factors," she said, "Do you believe that this Force-wielder can be trusted?"

"He can be trusted to act in his interests," Daniel said carefully, "His long-term plans are nebulous, but for now, I do not believe he is being deceitful – not yet. His capabilities are also problematic, in terms of acting against him should our priorities diverge."

"Correct, but there are clearly ways they can be beaten, as evidenced by your visions," Ravarian noted thoughtfully, "The dagger is important. I doubt it was the only other artifact of similar power."

"With respect, your Majesties," Osoad interjected, lifting a hand, "Everyone is ignoring the true revelation. It is not the Force-wielder – such entities have long been speculated; we simply never had a name for them. Mortis, however, the sharu, they upend everything we know about the Force itself. The properties of this space, as well as the research by Vodal Kressh, imply that there is something beyond the Force. An origin, if not a superior construct of reality."

He shook his head. "I cannot stress how monumental this revelation is, and I sense there is confusion as to why a Force-wielder – an entity more powerful than any of us, which bends the Force to his will, would entertain an agreement with us voluntarily. It is not because of benevolence, but because this threat he speaks of, it is beyond the Force." He nodded to Daniel. "He saw the sharu, and they are gone. Others may return one day, in a conflict that will make the Vong War look like a minor skirmish."

"That is potentially hyperbolic," Flovan said slowly, "At the same time, this is very… disturbing. For my own view, I am skeptical of Ludex, and doubt his own lack of 'interference.' The Quabular are his proxy, it is far from unlikely that they are not the only ones."

"Despite that, I nonetheless believe we should work with him," Daniel said, "To prepare for this threat, and to understand this unknown facet of reality."

"And you have a plan, Skywalker," Vorn commented.

"You've heard of Ludex's intention for Tython and the Thought Bomb," Daniel said, "I want one or two of your best to take part in it. This is larger than the Jedi, Republic, or Empire. There are few I trust to understand what we are dealing with, and this will not be solved by myself or my Order alone."

"No, it will not be," Vorn agreed, "I dislike putting my people at the mercy of a Force-wielder for promised benefits, but in this instance, you are correct. I will find some to accompany you. Wrath, should you accept it, you may take part in this ritual. There are few I would entrust this power to, and you can wield it wisely."

"I will do so, milord." Viola bowed her head.

"My own Order is… facing difficulties," Daniel said, "There are those within Spheres I cannot rely on – your people are, in this instance, more trustworthy. I would suggest that the Maw prioritize the research of Mortis, should Ludex allow it, and assist Vodal in unlocking the secrets of this higher power."

"A focus I agree with, milord." Osoad nodded. "While a supposedly long-dead Sith is not a source I would often rely upon, it would not be the first time, and he appears to have found something before everyone else. However, where would this take place? Our facilities?"

"No, I think there's a suitable location," Daniel said, "One out of the way, already furnished, and with an artifact I believe to be a key in unlocking this puzzle. Athiss."

"Athiss…" Osoad stroked his chin, nodding. "Acceptable. I will devote some of our best to this project – and any Jedi you also trust. A centralized collaboration base is a good idea, Grand Master."

"I concur." Enora nodded. "And we, of course, will work to support this effort. While the details have yet to be decided – and they will not be in the span of a single conversation – I believe we all see the gravity of this situation, and our limited options to take action. While Ludex is hardly an ideal ally here – we must make do with the options we have."

Daniel smiled faintly. "That we do, your Majesty."

There was a brief period of silence. "You have been quiet, High Lord," Vorn said, turning his eyes to look at Calliot – the red glow of his artificial left eye boring into him, "Unusual."

"Merely a lot to take in, your Majesty," Calliot answered without missing a beat, "If you ask my concurrence, I give it. While it is certainly not an expected development, we likely have little option but to work with this Force-wielder."

"Not expected for us, perhaps." Vorn narrowed his eyes. "I am doubtful as to it being thus for everyone." His hand rested on the armrest of the throne, and moved two fingers, a subtle motion but Viola had noticed, and was already striding forward. The sound of an ignited lightsaber was stark and loud in the Throne Room, and the rest of the Imperial Council moved immediately as it sounded.

Flovan moved in front of the Emperor, her silver blade at the ready. Ravarian's violet lightsaber was in his hand and ignited, as his eyes were fixated on Calliot as he moved in a circle around him, preparing to pounce. Osoad seemed surprised, and leapt back several meters, and Daniel felt the Force shift as the Imperial Knight prepared to use his power.

Enora had taken a more prepared position, coiling in her chair as if ready to leap, even if from an inferior position. Vorn betrayed no emotion. Calliot did not react either, standing still as Viola's scarlet blade hung behind his neck, waiting for the order to strike.

Calliot met Vorn's eyes. "An overreaction, would you not say, milord?"

"Perhaps," Vorn answered in the same tone of voice, "That depends on what you say next. You are a good liar, but my wife, my spymaster, and my Wrath are better than you are. There is little that surprised you here." He leaned forward. "Choose your next words carefully, Lord Calliot. I do not like being used, or lied to, and if you do either right now, I will kill you." A pause. "You are skilled, but you will not survive against your peers."

Daniel felt that he was considered in that group, and he wondered if he should intervene should it come to that.

"So, directly answer my question," Vorn repeated, "How much of what was said did you already know, and are you here on the orders of the Force-wielder?"

Now Calliot seemed less certain, as he looked around him slowly. Making internal calculations no doubt, and each one likely said he was in a less than ideal position. He nodded slowly, before returning his attention to the Emperor. "I am aware of most of what has been discussed. I was not aware of the… nature of Mortis. I have never been there, but I've known about Ludex since I left the Quabular."

"He asked two questions," Viola reminded him sharply.

"And I am not here on anyone's orders," Calliot continued calmly, "I requested to leave the Quabular to return to the Empire. I knew he was preparing for a threat, and what I have seen on Voss solidifies it. I am loyal to the Empire, your Majesty, your own people knew this. I would not, however, reveal the existence of Ludex, as that was a secret he requested I keep, and I had no intention of making an enemy of a Force-wielder – especially one that I view as an ally. However, now this has changed, and he is revealing himself to others."

He bowed his head. "Do what you will, Emperor, but do not insinuate that I am a traitor or that I have acted against your interests, or the interests of the Imperium."

Vorn looked down on him for a few long seconds, seemed to make a deliberation, and then nodded to Viola who withdrew her lightsaber. The others also powered down their lightsabers and Daniel relaxed, even as he'd habitually tensed in preparation for a confrontation.

"I will determine what to do with you later," Vorn said to Calliot, "For now, your service has earned you a proper judgment."

"That is all I wish, your Majesty." Calliot bowed.

"And I believe that will be sufficient for today, Grand Master." Enora smiled at him. "Apologies for the drama, but don't let it distract from our agreements. Ones which I expect to be fruitful."

"Indeed." Daniel nodded. "Then I will leave you to your matters. We will be in contact."

---

The immaterial realm was something impossible to explain.

The elusive Netherrealm of the Force was always something that Vauner had been interested in the concept of. There were questions of how it manifested, how it was perceived, and how the consciousnesses of the living moved through it. Sith theorists and Masters had seemed to always have an uncomfortable relationship with it, and often preferred to just ignore it, or justify some theory that explained why those who used the dark side couldn't reach it.

He'd never really cared about that in the way some Sith had. Eternity at the time had been a… daunting prospect.

His mortal mind had felt that it would be better to just die than experience an eternity of… nothingness. Jedi had argued and debated over why the Sith were obsessed about eternal life, and resisted at every opportunity simply letting go and becoming one with the Force. It was not a difficult concept for him to grasp, as while he had been far from an orthodox Sith, he had no desire to let go and join the gestalt of the Netherrealm.

At the same time, he knew there were other ways. There was more that was beyond death than becoming 'one with the Force.'

There were Jedi powerful enough to return from this realm, in rare cases even affect it, which implied there was something of individuality there.

It was nonetheless a place he had never been able to truly reach, even if the darkness had not dominated him in his later years. He was always just on the outskirts, an impenetrable, yet tangible barrier of sorts to the beyond. The barrier that confined him to a planet, weighed down by his death. He retained the full ability to manifest and manipulate on a single place, a single world, but not beyond it. Incorporeality had taken time to adjust to, but time was… an odd concept.

In that he could effectively control his perception of it.

Decades were as fast as minutes. Or seconds could be stretched to hours. He existed in a plane beyond time and space. Why, he had wondered, had there been some spirits who changed from their historical selves, and others who did not? Ajunta Pall was one of the most infamous, yet he'd never heard of a Jedi spirit who turned more violent or cynical.

The answer, as he had learned, was because they only changed if they wanted to. Either in the Netherrealm or bound outside it, they weren't forced to undergo years of reflection, not when they could bypass eons if they wished in a moment. Eternity was less intimidating when he'd realized that all it meant was that time had no meaning. It was a thing he did not have to take into account anymore.

He could just… be.

It was like moving to the interesting parts of a holovid, and skipping the filler. He only had to appear when something interested him, or wished to confine himself to the material realm now and again, yet was simultaneously very aware of the world he was bound to.

It would be difficult to explain. Only a spirit could really, inherently, know what it was like.

Now though, the present was important, and finally, it was time to pursue something that he wanted – because as interesting as this journey had been, he had his own plans. Ones which were now coming to fruition – should the Force-wielder follow through on what he had promised.

Vauner was not especially comfortable before Ludex. While the Force-wielder was not Vitiate or Valkorian, he was fully aware that in the end, he was a servant to the whims of this man. He had even less protection now than when he was alive. Nox had to at least put effort into enslaving him to her will, Ludex could do it with no effort whatsoever, as the Force remade itself to serve him.

"I want to ask a question," Vauner said, his arms crossed – he still preferred going through the physical motions as if he was alive. It was almost a ritual, and it helped ground him. Habits die hard, even from behind the grave. "Did you know all of this was going to happen?"

"Know?" Ludex stroked his beard. "Always in motion is the future, as a certain Jedi once said, but you helped focus it in the… correct direction."

Vauner grunted. The Force-wielder was as enigmatic as the first time he'd come to Korriban. He'd only had one request – that when Daniel Skywalker came next to Korriban, he answered and helped him as best he could. Vague, and mostly innocent, enough to be suspicious, but a request all the same. Now, Vauner likely would have done that anyway – he respected Skywalker, Jedi or not, but this had been extra incentive.

Especially when he had made a promise.

"Good." Vauner started pacing. "I trust you remember our agreement."

"Of course." Ludex nodded. "Go forth, Wrath, and do what you must. I have little interest in what you do to the Sith."

That, Vauner was certain, was a lie. The reason that Ludex was letting him proceed was because he contributed in some way to his larger plan – one which he knew included the Sith as well as the Jedi. Granted, if he succeeded, he would have one Order under his sway, and he was certain Ludex would have a use for that.

It was interesting, knowing that he was likely being used to further the ends of a Force-wielder, yet he was not especially bothered by it. They were aligned for now, and Ludex seemed to understand the same thing Vitiate had: freedom for subordinates reduced their inclination for rebellion. Unlike Vitiate, however, Ludex appeared to try and make it seem like Vauner was acting of his own free will.

And that… well, in the context of a Force-wielder, no one really acted of their own free will.

He waited for something to happen. For the barrier around him to fall, and there was no accompanying motion. No grand, reality-shattering effect. But it suddenly felt as though he was… free. Unbound. There had always been something pulling down on the entirety of his being, to Nox, to Korriban, to Daniel. Some bindings more willing than others, but there had always been a tie. It had been there so long he'd forgotten what it was like for it to be absent.

If he'd even been free since the start.

Now though… he knew he could go anywhere.

"I would advise you take some time to accommodate yourself to the Netherrealm," Ludex cautioned, "You have enough experience to move between reality and incorporeality, but have always been limited. I trust you will adapt to accomplish what you wish."

"Indeed." Vauner smiled. "A deal well struck. Yet I do not need coddling, Force-wielder. We both know why you are letting me do this, and rest assured, when you request my help, I will be there."

"So be it," Ludex said with a nod, "May the Force serve you, Wrath."

"That it will," Vauner said, turning away, and saying half to himself, "Now, there is someone I must prepare to visit."

---

"You have that look." Penaria Oslam greeted with a frown.

He raised an eyebrow. " 'That look'?"

"Don't play innocent, Daniel." Penaria narrowed her eyes good-naturedly, crossing her arms. "It's the kind of look that says: 'You're not going to like this, but it's important for Jedi reasons.' Like the last time you asked me for something." She paused, tapping a finger to her chin. "Incidentally, did you find what you were looking for?"

"Fortunately, we did."

"Hmph." Penaria gestured to her pinnace. "We can talk inside."

Daniel entered the pinnace, one of the few pieces of genuine luxury the President of the Galactic Alliance possessed. It was sleek on the inside and outside, relatively tasteful and not overly gaudy, and well-furnished though not crowded. Normally, they would have had this talk in her office, however, Daniel felt that here was better. More isolated, and away from prying eyes.

Still, it never hurt to be sure, and he pulled out his own scanner. For once, it seemed the ship was clean.

"Paranoid, are we?" Penaria asked rhetorically, walking into the main room of the ship, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses, "You won't find anything, and if you do, I need to fire my security."

"Thankfully nothing," Daniel said, putting the scanner away, and eyeing the glasses, "It's a bit early in the day for that, isn't it?"

"This isn't for now." Penaria set the glasses and bottle on a table, and situated herself on the couch. "It's for later, after you tell me whatever…" She waved a hand. "If you're this paranoid, I can't imagine it's good."

"Can't I just come to see a friend?" Daniel asked, pulling up a comfortable chair opposite her.

She was clearly not convinced, appraising him with mild amusement. "And are you, Daniel?"

"As a matter-of-fact, I am." Daniel clasped his hands together. "It's been a long time since we've talked. Properly talked. Duties and responsibilities conspire against us, but life is short. How are you doing, Penaria? Really doing?"

She was silent for a minute, before her lips finally parted, and a small sigh escaped them. She leaned back on the couch, sinking into it. Exhaustion if Daniel didn't know better. With her eyes closed, she answered, "I've been better, Daniel."

He nodded once. "That bad?"

"Worse, Daniel, worse." She shook her head. "Imagine working somewhere where half of your closest coworkers hate you with every fiber of their being, a quarter want you outright dead, and the rest are trying to use you for leverage or favors. You're lucky – only about half of your colleagues hate you."

"Hate is not the Jedi way," Daniel countered, "That said…"

"Pardon the comparison, but you get the point." Penaria sighed. "Some days I'm just so tempted to order a missile fired at the Senate building, and reduce that pit of sludge and corruption to ashes. Not that my own military would follow me. You have no idea the utter depravity that institution has made of the Alliance."

Daniel crossed one leg over the other. "I have a better idea than you think."

"Right, I know, I know." She straightened and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry. I'm banging my head against a wall over, and over, and over, and over again. Nearly all 'my' cabinet is working against me, the Senate makes even the most basic changes a nightmare, and all the people who elected me are demanding I do something."

"And you can't."

She was surprisingly quiet, and he sensed something… else. Something he didn't expect. Something was bothering her, and it wasn't what he'd thought it would be. The stress wasn't just due to the realities of the Senate, or even her colleagues. There was something else at play here, something she was deeply uncomfortable with. Or afraid of.

"You can," he said slowly, "but you've decided not to."

"I hate when you do that," she muttered, "Reading into things that aren't there."

"And am I reading into something that's not there?"

"Daniel, what do you expect me to do?" She met his eyes, her own weary and frustrated. "I already said my people are working against me, the Senate—"

He lifted a hand, cutting her off. "And why do you care what they think of you?"

"I don't!"

This was a conversation where he should be sympathetic, and in most other cases, he would be – but now he was aware of something else here. Something that wasn't as straightforward as he was assuming, and he needed to press it here. Penaria could take it – and if she was alluding to this, she likely wanted him to press her. Force whatever she was hiding to the surface.

"Then why not leverage what you can?" he pressed, "You didn't ask permission or seek approval when you supported the strikes. Or when you ran for president. Or when you've stood and fought for people since you came to the Senate. Penaria the Senator would not hesitate to do the right thing, no matter how many enemies she made – so why not Penaria the President?"

He expected her to retort angrily, and if she did, he would at least confirm he'd misread her. Instead, she just slumped into the couch, deflated. "Because Penaria the Senator was ignorant, Daniel," she said quietly, "She thought she could change things. She didn't know how far people would go to destroy her just because she wanted to do something good for others."

Daniel crossed his arms. "I don't believe you. And you don't believe that either."

"No, of course you don't," she muttered, "You won't actually believe the truth here. I'm not sure even I do."

Daniel thought about the previous months he had experienced. All he had seen; all he had learned. Were it not for the deadly serious situation, he would have laughed. Instead, he smiled gently. "Penaria, I promise you, there is nothing you can tell me that will surprise me anymore."

She appraised him for a few seconds, her eyes unblinking and weary, as if internally weighing something. He was curious – and concerned for her now. He had come here for a reason, but there was something else at play here. Something that had been affecting her for a long time.

"Wait here, Daniel." She stood, and went to where he knew was her quarters. A few minutes later she returned, carrying a small binder the size of a datapad, and fairly thick for that matter. She wordlessly put the binder in his hand. "Take a look."

He opened the binder, and the first thing he saw was pictures of Penaria as a girl, on Onderon. Pictures which showed her at various engagements, which gave the impression that these were formal images – were they not at strange angles, as if standing off to the side, from the back, or even from above. A few he was certain were from ordinary devices and cameras, not taken by people.

Then there were less notable images, such as her helping in her family clinic, laughing with her friends, and pictures as she worked with Onderonian soldiers planning to push out the mercenaries. Beside some of the images were writings; transcripts he realized, ones of a conversation that had never before been known.

It only took a few pages before he realized what he was looking at. He looked up at Penaria. "Where did you get this?"

"It was when I met Calsyne," Penaria said, pouring wine into a glass, "Properly met her. It was a short meeting. I didn't think it was going to go well, but I've dealt with women like her before. I'll never forget it. I was expecting to see some frustration, some uncertainty, maybe something to throw that cold bitch off. I thought she just didn't like me."

"And you didn't get that."

A broken laugh. "There was… nothing. She just… looked at me like I wasn't there." She paused, then shook her head. "No, not that. Like I was… something interesting she was observing. No shouting. No yelling. No arguing. She just said she came to deliver this." She indicated the binder. "She made sure I looked at it, and then left."

"That doesn't make sense," Daniel said slowly, "She couldn't have been spying on you since…"

"Since I was a child? No, I agree," Penaria took a sip of her wine, voice defeated. "You don't see it, but I know who took the pictures. Or at least how they could have gotten them. Angles line up, and some memories you don't forget. I don't know how, I don't know why, but something… someone… has been watching me. All my life."

Another drink. "It keeps going. Up to the Senate. Through the Senate. It lists things I've only said to a small number of people. It shows me in places I tried to keep quiet. Daniel, it says – verbatim – exactly what I said when I told Siva to get rid of Kenirr." Daniel noticed that her hands were trembling ever so slightly. "When the deepfakes came out during the campaign, I'd wondered how someone was able to put anything like that together. It was the worst time of my life, and I owe my campaign being saved to an utter madman. But I… I never thought…"

She trailed off, taking a shuddering breath. "I'm terrified, Daniel. You have no idea how much. I have no idea who I can trust right now. I don't know what's out there, or what they want to do to me. This is worse than an obsession with me, I've had stalkers before, this is… I don't know what this is. It's scary."

"That's the reason," Daniel said slowly, half to himself, "You're afraid that they won't go after you, but the people you care about."

"I promised I would never submit to blackmail," she said into her wine glass, "I was never going to find myself in this position. That was my promise. But I… what can I do here, Daniel? There is something, someone that has watched me since I was a child! How much of my life has been manipulated and I don't know? I…" She collapsed back into the couch. "I want to get out. I've wanted to get out. I can't though, I can't run away. But I don't know what to do now."

She opened her eyes, her voice tinged with resignation. "Honestly, I don't even know if I can trust you. I've never told anyone this. No one. Except you now, I suppose." A thin, humorless smile appeared. "Unfortunately, not a problem you can kill with a lightsaber."

That revelation was one which would have at any other time shocked him – and disturbed him on a fundamentally deep level – not that he wasn't already. Yet he remembered the vision of the Mandalorian, where he had been approached by a group that was mysterious – but had been implied to be one of great influence.

He wondered…

Penaria noticed his silence, looked at his face, and perked up. "Wait… you know something, don't you?"

"I'm not sure…" he said slowly, testing out the words, "A vision. One which was… odd. Not enough to say if I know something… but what I know is this." He met her eyes. "Whatever you have done, you have done yourself. None of what you achieved was handed to you, or given accidentally. This" – he tapped the binder – "does not mean anything except that someone has an unhealthy obsession with you. They gave it to you to scare you."

"Obviously, Daniel," she snorted, "and it worked."

"There are two possibilities I can see." Daniel set the binder on the table. "The first is that this group, or individual, is bluffing. If they hated you, and had the power to remove you, they would have done it a long time ago."

"I'm not convinced they didn't try," Penaria pointed out, "You remember the campaign. How many no-confidence votes have been proposed even now?"

"And if they did, they failed, and continue to fail," Daniel reminded her, "This is their most powerful bluff. Perhaps it involved Calsyne, perhaps it involved others – but they're relying on fear to keep you from being yourself, because they know you are one of the few who can force change. And this is effective, I don't deny that – but if you concede, they have won."

She poured some more wine, watching him intently.

"The second possibility," Daniel continued, "They are influential enough to remove you – and if that is the case, ask yourself why they have not done that? By your own admission you have naught but enemies – which means that whoever they are, they don't want you removed."

"Implying what?" she asked, leaning forward.

"I don't know," Daniel said, "I can't know. What I do know is that you should not base what you do, and who you are, off of what could or might have happened. You knew this would be a dangerous job, and you welcomed it. What I am saying is that you need to return to who you were – you know what you can do, now you have to carry it out."

"And what if you're wrong?" she asked, "What if pushing gets me killed, or my loved ones, or innocent people wholesale?"

"And how many more will languish if you accept defeat and concede?" he retorted, knowing he needed to press her now, "How many workers will die in mines and factories if you fail to fight for them? How many families will suffer in poverty? How many orphans created from pointless wars and skirmishes? Death is risked no matter what you do." He nodded to her. "You are in a position to do something about it. And I know you want to. There will not be another person like you, and if you fail… will you be able to live with yourself?"

Penaria leaned back thoughtfully. "That's why I haven't stormed out of this blasted job, Daniel. Because I know I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I think of everyone who sacrificed, donated, contributed, and fought to get me to where I am. Leaving would… it would betray them."

She looked at him. "You saw something, didn't you? Some vision about me, that's why you're talking about this with me."

He had, but she didn't need to know the details. "It was Coruscant. The Senate had fallen to a military coup. You were being hunted." He winced. "Considering I would have died in that scenario trying to protect you, it is something I am keen to avoid."

"How?" she asked, "How did that happen? Kenirr?"

"I honestly don't know the full details." He laced his fingers together. "But I know it happened because you were alone."

"Alone…"

"You had no allies, or no allies worth noting," Daniel said, "When your enemies moved, there was no one to support you. Except me, and a few individuals, but it wasn't enough. That is something I think you should change."

"Daniel, if I could magically make people like me, trust me, I would have already done it," she said dryly, "What, you want me to make up with Kenirr? Calsyne?" She shuddered at the last name.

Daniel met her eyes. "Yes, that is exactly what I want you to do. You need to talk to Kenirr – actually talk to him. Politician he may be, but he is united in wanting to see the Alliance preserved. Calsyne… show her you have a spine. Whoever she is, or works for, will be important, I have a feeling about that. Others as well. Shartan for one."

"I think Shartan wants to gut me," Penaria muttered, "Almost a shame, even if he is a bloodthirsty warmonger."

"Shartan has the wrong idea of you," Daniel said, "I suspect both of you are more natural allies than you think – for instance, you both would like to burn the Senate to the ground."

A thin smile. "Admittedly, I do like that about him."

"I'll handle him," Daniel said, "The galaxy will enter an upheaval in the future. I don't think it can be avoided – only the circumstances in which we can respond."

She nodded slowly. "And you want me to take all of these risks… because you saw a vision."

"…Would it help if I told you there were several visions?"

She smiled faintly. "Not needed, Daniel." She took a deep breath. "This is… a lot to take in. And I have no idea if it's the right thing to do or not. But you're right though – I need to at least… try… and not be ruled by fear, otherwise I shouldn't be here." She shrugged. "The worst that could happen is I go down in a blaze of glory."

"And you'll have my help too," he said, "You just need to ask."

"Be careful what you wish for, Daniel," she said, setting her glass down, "I might have to take you up on that. I'll think about what you said… Kenirr is… that will be difficult. If possible at all. He tried to ruin me. I tried to kill him. We've been on bad terms for years now."

"Relationships can be mended," Daniel said, "Even the worst ones. Trust me."

"We'll see," Penaria said, "Thank you, Daniel. This was… I needed to talk about it. And now, I have a lot to do."

---

Returning to Dromund Kaas was a mixture of comfort and reflection. Truthfully, Sashal was relieved to be returning to the gloomy, rainy, and humid planet that had been her home for as long as she could remember. This was familiar and comforting, and she appreciated it, especially after living a fair few days in a spacecraft – long enough for her to decide she definitely did not want to ever live on a ship for a long period of time.

There was too much… floating. Being surrounded by space had taken some getting used to, and the knowledge that a rupture or leak would lead to a spontaneous death. Not fun, and she could have done without knowing that detail.

Yet even with that…

It had been incredible in more ways than one. Mortis was something that would be forever etched in her mind. Even now she still found it difficult to forget that haunting melody, whatever it ultimately was. Not even the Jedi had known what it was, and even after experiencing the vision, she still wasn't completely sure.

Was it the Force? Something beyond it? Whatever it was, it had been potent enough to bring entities who held power she could scarcely imagine to their knees. The entire time, she'd wondered what had led to her being the one to witness this. No one here would believe her, and even if she allowed her mind to be read, the fact she'd departed with the Jedi would result in her execution. They wouldn't understand, no matter the context, none of them would have ever willingly gone with a Jedi, let alone trusted him.

She was just a Knight, one who'd been swept into something far bigger and more consequential than anything she had experienced in court politics. And she had learned so much, even outside of visiting Mortis. The Jedi had treated her well, to her surprise, and had shared things about themselves as she had about herself and her people.

It had truly made her wonder why they had to be enemies. Yes, they had certain differences in beliefs and goals, but she found herself sharing many beliefs with the Jedi who'd joined that trip, arguably more than some of her supposed peers in the Order of Nox. It was… well, a revelation on one hand, confusing on the other.

Standing on the balcony overlooking Kaas City, as storm clouds gathered overhead, she contemplated what to do now. She couldn't go back to pretending everything was normal. The ordinary streets of the city seemed illusionary; she could only think of what threatened to be coming in the future.

So, what was her responsibility now?

"You know, a lot of Sith I knew tended to do their deep thinking doing something physical," Darth Vauner said, materializing beside her, "All you need to do is sit on the ground, close your eyes, and I'd mistake you for a Jedi."

She cracked a smile. "I'm not sure I'm a very good Sith right now."

The long-dead Sith had struck up something of an accord with her, especially after they'd departed that planet with the odd Force-users. He'd said that he was 'liberated,' and that he wanted to come with her to Dromund Kaas, saying that there were 'opportunities, and I think you need some help.'

So, they'd talked on the flight back to Dromund Kaas, and she had listened to the tale of Darth Vauner, Dark Lord of the Sith and the Emperor's Wrath. She'd never learned in detail who he was – at most he received a tangible mention in the histories. And hearing his own story had been enrapturing and enlightening.

About the old Sith Empire, about how much they had changed, about the original members of Nox's circle, about the kind of woman Nox was – and it was both a corroboration, and refutation of what she knew about Nox. A small part of her was surprised that the Order's history of Nox was mostly accurate, even if it overlooked some of her more questionable aspects, conflicts, and decisions.

At the end of the day though, Darth Nox had been a Sith through and through, and Sashal found it interesting that the Order had drifted so far from who Nox had been. She suspected Nox would not have liked her, though she seemed to respect those with power, so perhaps it would be a wash.

It had, however, given her a respect for Vauner and his own accomplishments. And she felt she could use any help she could get. The only two on this planet who knew the power beyond the stars, power which may soon come into conflict with them.

"It becomes easier when you accept that 'Sith' is a versatile title," Vauner said, "Vathila is right about one thing – 'Sith' can mean many different things, and none are inherently right or wrong. You are as much of a Sith as your peers – you simply have a different view of power."

"And do you consider yourself a Sith?"

"I'm not sure anymore," he mused, "In some ways, I am not. I find myself wanting to break away from the label entirely, yet there is a part of me that is Sith, and always will be. Not a traditional one, perhaps, but a Sith nonetheless. In some ways like you."

"Sith or not, I am not certain what I need to do now," she said, looking back out to the city.

"No, I think you know the answer," Vauner said, "As the Jedi say, search your feelings."

She rolled her neck as she thought. "Carolin."

"Exactly." He nodded. "You aren't just a Knight. The future princess of Dromund Kaas is your ward."

"I'm not going to use a child." She shook her head. "That seems… wrong."

"It's not 'using her' if she understands the stakes," Vauner said, "The Shan girl seems intelligent, and she will soon be in a position of power."

"What are you saying?" Sashal glanced to him. "Tell her the truth?"

"That," Vauner said pointedly, "depends on you. You know the girl, and what she would understand. Perhaps do not share everything, but you have said the girl already listens to the echoes on this world. She is curious, empathetic, and willing to learn. She is strong in the Force, and she will soon take the throne. She will need to know the truth, she will need a confidant, a protector, and a friend."

Sashal rubbed her forehead. "And here I hoped that her future husband could be that."

"Leave that to me." Vauner smiled.

She blinked at that. "What?"

"Unlike young Carolin, the Beni'vel boy does not appear to have anyone he trusts," Vauner said, "He is thrust into politics with little assistance, and I am certain many intend for him to be a pawn for their own interests. I think I can offer an alternative."

"How?" she asked, "It is dangerous if you plan to do what I suspect."

"The details I'll keep to myself for now, suffice to say I believe the boy is also amenable to our point of view." Vauner looked toward the Palace. "Princes and heirs are either groomed, or figureheads. Lestko is currently the latter, only because he had no choice in the matter. He had no one available to explain the dynamics of politics, especially the ones your people employ. He has potential though; I am confident of that. He will gain power soon – and when he does, it is ideal if he is prepared to use it. Better still if his wife is similarly prepared."

"He has his mother," Sashal remembered, before a pause, "Although she is… distant."

"Is she?" Vauner wondered, "Why?"

"I'm not as familiar with the Prince," Sashal said, "but I know that the Princess Regent is caught in the similar power plays and dynamics of the Noble Families. That leaves little time for her son."

"So, she's overextended, but not necessarily apathetic." Vauner rubbed his chin. "Interesting. Doesn't affect the situation at hand – but it is good information to know. I wonder if the boy understands that as well."

She was starting to see his endgame, even if it struck her as somewhat uncomfortable. "I hope you are giving him a choice."

"Unlike Nox, I do not intend to impose my will over others," he said dryly, "Of course he'll have a choice, and if he refuses, then I will determine an alternative. The point, Sashal, is that we have a limited amount of time and a responsibility to prepare for the calamity that will befall the galaxy."

She nodded. "I suppose we do."

He returned the nod with one of his own. "Then we know what we must do."

"Yes," she said quietly, as the rain began to fall, "but I must ask: what about Nox? Will she not know what you are doing, and interfere?"

Vauner unexpectedly seemed amused. "Do not worry about that. Rest assured that I will ensure that Nox does not interfere with our plans."

---

Ord Mantell was a world built for war.

By any normal metric, most would consider the military base that sprawled kilometers as one of the many under the Galactic Alliance. Massive hangars were spread throughout the expanse, with a constant flow of traffic to-and-fro, or storing starfighters, troop transports, or drones. Barracks were filled with soldiers and support personnel, and said soldiers marched in formation throughout the base.

The sounds of explosions and blasterfire was commonplace as exercises and training took place daily on the training grounds of the base. However, there was an unusual sound that also pierced the air, not one often heard on the grounds of military bases – the humming and clashing of lightsabers.

The High Command of the Jedi Order, headquarters of the Sphere of the Militant Order was not just the largest military base of the Jedi, but one of the largest military bases in the galaxy. Anyone who believed that the Jedi were mere knights, diplomats, or other stereotypical roles would find their expectations shattered by a visit to the crown jewel of the Militant Order.

And it was an impressive base, especially since it had been designed to be equivalent or superior to any other military base in the galaxy. Only a few bases in the Alliance and Imperium could truly compare. Underground bunkers, anti-orbit guns, reinforced structures, there had been no expense spared in constructing it, additionally augmented to take advantage of the unique capabilities of the Jedi.

There were stations for Wardens, Battle-Sages, and Sentinels in the event of an attack, and having witnessed one of the yearly mobilizations where Shartan arranged for a simulated, live-fire attack, seeing the Militant Order mobilize to defend the base was truly impressive.

Let it not be said the Jedi could not wage war when it was necessary.

Today though, Daniel was here for another purpose.

The dueling arena was one of many on the base, where Padawans in the Militant Order were drilled relentlessly; harder than most others in the Jedi Order. It was a spartan arena laid out in a circle. The duracrete floor was bare, though it could be filled with simulated terrain, be it grass, sand, water, or mud.

There was a small spectator area along the wall, where people could watch and wait for their turn. Along the walls and from the ceiling were droids and turrets that could fire at the duelists below. Pipes along the ceiling could simulate rain, fog, or even toxic gas, as the room was sealed.

It was the largest dueling arena on the base, outside of full-scale exercise fields. There were several on the base, but this one had no one in attendance, which would almost be a shame were Daniel not intending to have a very important conversation.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Battlemaster Zevro Shartan stood a short distance from him, appraising the Grand Master with a mixture of amusement and concern. The greatest warrior in the Jedi Order wore his own hardsuit – custom armor the color of a black hole, forged from beskar and lined with cortosis-weave-laced fabric at the joints – capable of withstanding a direct turbolaser blast.

The source of the armor was a minor mystery, in that Shartan had never really said where he'd gotten the armor – as it hadn't been made by anyone in the Order. The most he'd shared was that some Mandalorians had made it for him – which Daniel had taken to mean he called in a favor from a talented smith. He didn't believe that the Mandalorian Union would work with a Jedi, let alone Shartan. Then again, rogue Mandalorians were fairly commonplace, and he wouldn't be surprised if Shartan had known one or two in his operations in the Outer Rim.

It made his visage one of the most imposing in the Order. Whatever he had paid, it had been well worth it.

Daniel moved his cane to rest along the wall as he withdrew the lightsaber on his waist. "Quite sure, Battlemaster. Do not worry, you need not go easy on me."

The flickering scarlet blade of the Shartan family lightsaber ignited in the practiced hand of the Jedi Battlemaster, the crossguard saber taken from the Commander of the Knights of Ren centuries ago. A thin, toothless smile was on Shartan's face as he circled his opponent. "If you say so, Grand Master. I was under the impression your days of dueling were behind you."

"I certainly wish so," Daniel said, igniting his single emerald blade. This wasn't his preferred lightsaber, but he made sure to train with it. Hardly useful as a misdirection weapon if he fumbled with it every time he brought it up. "But it's important to maintain one's skill should the need arise."

Shartan had been surprised with his offer to spar, though had accepted. No doubt he thought Daniel was an old, if perhaps active man. Certainly not the caliber of Jedi Shartan was used to fighting, something that Daniel intended to exploit as best he could. It served as a good excuse to meet and talk.

It was necessary to remind Shartan who he was, and also to experiment with how he fared in a practice duel. Daniel doubted he would 'win,' but he certainly wanted some training so in the worst-case… well, he hoped to be more prepared than he had been in the vision.

"Sabers only then." Shartan nodded, lifting his weapon in a salute. "Are we agreed? Last chance to change your mind."

Daniel smiled. Shartan really was worried about hurting him, he certainly wasn't this careful with anyone else. "You talk too much."

"So be it." Shartan wove his blade in a flourish, lifted it to the sky, and roared.

This was not his scream which caused tangible damage to his enemies. This was a war cry, a roar of promise and authority. It was the roar of a predator which had been unleashed upon a field, it echoed and bounced around the walls. It hung in the air, and Daniel could feel the emotion behind it, the power as Shartan entered his battle state, and tapped into the emotions that drove him.

Then he leapt forward.

Most people expected Shartan to be a methodical, slow fighter. His armor was bulky and heavy, and the expectation was that his actions would mirror those of a tank instead of a striker. What few realized until it was too late was that Shartan could do both. He had methodically moved and cut them down in the vision, and right now he was moving almost too fast to follow.

If he had been a soldier, Daniel would have been decapitated. Fortunately, he was a Jedi, and the strike was initially easy to sidestep and follow up with a blow of his own. Emerald and scarlet blades locked briefly, and the duel properly began.

Shartan was a master in all forms, but his preference was Vaapad, one of the most dangerous of techniques – not least of which because it drew upon the darkness of the wielder to function. Daniel had already known he was going to rely on Soresu to protect himself, yet even Soresu would struggle against the form.

Each blow from Shartan had the weight of a speeder behind it, each strike was intended to be a killing blow. Shartan did not fight his enemies with the intent to wound, not usually, he fought with the intent to kill, or kill soon after the initial blow. As Daniel deflected the strikes away, each drained a little more out of him.

Shartan's stamina was superior to his own, even augmented with the Force, and he was known for tiring out opponents instead of outright beating them in pure skill. His relentless nature allowed him to never once let up his attack. Strike after strike, constantly moving footwork to follow up at different angles, not afraid to use his fists, elbows, knees, and feet, Shartan fought.

And what was both impressive and terrifying was that Shartan could change his style at any time – this was just his preferred one.

And he was not augmenting his attacks with the Force.

All things considered, Daniel thought he was holding up quite well.

Both men moved across the arena, and invigorated with the Force, Daniel was able to withstand the barrage of scarlet light that would have sliced other men into ribbons. There had been several close calls, though if he lost a limb, it wasn't the end of the world considering how easy it was to reattach these days.

Not pleasant though, and he was trying to avoid that.

He was glad to see that Shartan was doing what he'd asked – not going easy on him. That was good – that meant that Shartan respected him enough to treat him as an opponent, even if he had yet to strike a good blow of his own.

And as he fought, Daniel felt.

He felt the air grow cold. Ice that was as sharp as crystals. There was a furnace inside Shartan, yet what defined him was not the heat of his fury, but its cold dispassion. Shartan valued directness, proficiency, and precision, none of which could be achieved by blind fury. So, he took that fury, and turned it cold.

His presence was one honed to a fine edge, where he seemed to cut on an emotional level against the unprepared and unprotected. His focus was like a knife driven into the minds of those around him. The atmosphere itself chilled as the furnace burned, the undercurrent of rage and anger that Shartan maintained.

But those were tools. Shartan did not lose control. He could not afford to lose control.

If he lost control, he was nothing more than a violent, bloodthirsty Sith. And he could never, ever fall to that level. He was better.

That was the rationale Daniel had put together for the Battlemaster.

A man who walked that line so thin.

But one who the darkness was close to claiming, if it had not already. Yet also a man he needed to work with to prevent an even worse future.

The duel had continued long enough that both of them had lost track of time. He was starting to tire, and it was only going to take one mistake for him to lose this duel. It happened when a particularly strong blow was knocked away, and he was too slow to stop the lightning-fast blade from moving to decapitate him.

Instead, the scarlet blade hung centimeters from his neck, crackling as the unstable blade rippled. Shartan's face was beaded with sweat, his eyes intense, and he nodded once. "Dead." He withdrew the blade and sheathed it with a smooth motion.

Daniel did the same, and allowed himself a moment to breathe and recover. He was definitely going to need a long rest after this. He hadn't fought like that in a long time.

Shartan was appraising him carefully, with a renewed respect. "You've hidden your strength, Skywalker."

"It comes in handy in certain situations," Daniel said, as Shartan tossed him a water canister.

"Indeed, underestimating you was a mistake on my part," Shartan said, drinking from his own canister, "It is easy to forget who you once were. A mistake I will not repeat again. A mistake that I am surprised you bothered to correct."

"You are on the Council, Zevro," Daniel said, "And while we have our disagreements, you are not someone who is duplicitous."

"A compliment I will accept," he said, and crossed his arms, "but politics drives all these days, no matter how much I despise it – and you did not come here just to duel. Why, Skywalker, did you request this?"

And now to start the talk. "Because we needed to talk, and this seemed a reasonable enough place."

Shartan frowned. "And why do we need to talk, Skywalker?"

"Because if we do not, you are going to kill me."

A rare flicker of surprise echoed from Shartan which he quickly clamped down on. "I'm sorry, Grand Master," he said slowly, "Could you say that again?"

"Your ears are in working order, Battlemaster." Daniel smiled, walking to one of the benches in the spectator area. "And you heard correctly. You are going to kill me. You've heard of my little odyssey, yes?"

"I have." Shartan followed him, eyes unblinking, but did not sit down. "You saw something. Me killing you?"

"You didn't want to, if it makes you feel better," Daniel said, "However, I was in your way of something important. Granted, I did not see the conclusion, but both of us know that if we were to fight, you would win."

Shartan's eyes were unfocused, as he quickly processed what he was saying. Daniel found it notable that Shartan hadn't outright denied it, or said what most would expect, like insisting that he would never do that, or that Daniel had seen something wrong. No, Shartan could easily imagine a scenario where he would willingly fight him – and even kill him.

"What was it about?" he finally asked, "Why did we fight?"

"You were going to arrest Penaria."

"Ah." A short explanation, but one which seemed to clarify a few things to Shartan. "I do not suppose there was anything else useful that you saw?"

Daniel was not inclined to share more details – Shartan had what he needed to know. "Nothing more important – but we talked before we fought. There was a falling-out, and I believe the Senate had fallen, or there was fighting happening. It was…" Daniel shook his head. "You can understand it is something I wish to prevent."

Shartan snorted. "Do you? Well, this one may come true sooner than later. Both of us know the days of the Senate are numbered. I do not know the exact reason or scenario where I will put those ghouls to the sword, but I will not deny that I have long awaited the day to burn that institution down."

It was not surprising, but it was, to Daniel's memory, the first time he'd heard Shartan say it out loud so… casually. And there was an obvious follow-up. "And why haven't you? What are you waiting for?"

"Because, Daniel, I retain a spark of… call it naïveté." He sighed, waving a hand. "Do not ask why I keep it alive. Perhaps for my husband, perhaps my children. I do not want to tell Quialis that I fight to protect and enrich a cabal of criminals, charlatans, and idiots. I do not want to kill the hope of my children that there is something in this Alliance that is worth fighting for. That there is a future to believe in."

He exhaled loudly. "A fool or a coward, Daniel, that is what I am. I hunt and kill the evil in the galaxy. I do it to make myself feel like I am accomplishing something, that I am making something in this ruthless galaxy better. But I know that for every petty criminal I slaughter, the true criminals in the 500 Republica party and enjoy life with no consequence. And I can only keep this spark alive so long, Daniel. The Alliance is a rotten, irredeemable institution. And one day, I know I am going to change it."

Daniel could imagine the scope of what the word 'change' could entail. "You've never said this to me before. To anyone?"

"I've had long discussions with Mateil," he said with a shrug, "Certain officials in the Alliance military who I will not betray right now. It is an unpleasant topic. One that few are willing to engage in the ramifications of. Everyone wants there to be a redemption story. They want there to be a solution that works within the framework of what already exists. I am convinced, Daniel, that such a solution does not exist, and no one wants to acknowledge it. Not even me."

"And what about Oslam?" Daniel asked, "If there is anyone who hates the institution, it is her."

"Oslam is a disappointment," Shartan said bitterly. Not unkindly, but as a statement of fact. "She also kept that spark I have alive. Perhaps, I thought, perhaps there was some genuine hope. They did not want her in, yet she succeeded. And what has she done since taking her office? Nothing. The best I can say for her is that she is merely ineffective, not criminal."

And now he had a certain understanding of why Oslam had acted as she did – though Shartan didn't need to know that yet. He just needed him to take the bait, and follow the path on his own. "Penaria had more optimism than you, she wanted to do things the 'right' way. And it has failed. She knows it had failed."

"And? Did she tell you that?" Shartan shook his head. "I doubt she is going to do anything substantial. She lacks the people. She lacks the power. She lacks the resolve to do so. I don't know if they're threatening her."

"And if they are?"

"Then she should step aside," he said bluntly, "Otherwise she is useless. I know she is your friend, Daniel. Do not let that cloud your judgment."

"And don't let your cynicism taint your own perception," Daniel answered, "Or let Kenirr sway you away from someone who is your natural ally. If there is someone who hates the Senate as much as you do – it is her."

"Kenirr is her rival, but nothing he has shared is wrong," Shartan retorted.

"He is a bothan," Daniel sighed, "Take it from the former Eternal Watcher, bothans – especially bothans like Kenirr – never share information unless they benefit from it. Kenirr has his own political ambitions, and his vision heavily clashes with hers. Why do you think he's personally arranged for a dozen of her bills to die on the Senate floor?"

"Has he?" Shartan frowned. "He should not be involved in domestic matters like that."

"I agree, but he is," Daniel said, "And critiques of Oslam are all well and good – but you should not think that she has not tried. How much can be accomplished when the entire institution is against you? Of all people, you should understand how easily a system could be slowed or abused by bad actors. One person can threaten a mission, to draw a military analogy – and how many in her system are sabotaging it? How many real allies do you think she has?"

He was thinking more now, slowly starting to come over. "Not enough."

"Not enough," Daniel agreed, "And there are fewer. Look at yourself, you are ready to cast her aside. You didn't know the details behind her supposed impotence. Most others do not, and if Oslam is defeated, then there truly is no hope. If the most revolutionary soul can be beaten, then no one else has a hope of challenging the entrenched powers."

"So, you view her as all or nothing?" Shartan rubbed his chin.

"In a sense, I do."

"Then why not let it burn to the ground?" Shartan queried, "Even if she were able to act with impunity – she will not be there forever. It is a problem that is systemic – so why not let it die and start again? Kill the false hope forever? Why fight to protect this irredeemable, degenerate institution?"

"Why indeed?" Daniel mused, thinking on his answer, "For the same reason you don't snap and rampage through the Senate. Because we should not actively hope for things to worsen. Because the fall of the Alliance will mean the displacement and deaths of trillions. We will be plunged into an age of darkness and chaos, where our enemies will take advantage."

He met Shartan's eyes. "Perhaps something better can emerge from the ashes, but that is also a false hope. The Alliance is far from a perfect system, but leveraging it for good is infinitely superior to letting it die. If the Alliance dies, then so be it. But it should only die as a last resort. I don't say this for the sake of the exploitable, the corrupt, or the other institutions that may be preserved, but for the innocents whose lives will be put at risk should this fragile system collapse. We are Jedi – we serve and protect the interests of the people. Even when it is hard."

Shartan's eyes turned unfocused as he thought. It lasted for a short while, long minutes. "You raise a fair point, Skywalker. One I will need to think on."

"And that is all I ask," Daniel said, standing, "Keep that spark alive, Battlemaster. Because once it is snuffed out, there is no going back."

With that final thought, he left the Battlemaster still standing alone, in contemplation and reflection. He'd done all he could, and while Daniel knew there was no guarantee Shartan would do as he wished, he believed that he had been set down the right path. Reassessing his view on Oslam was important.

Would it be enough to avert the future he had seen? Perhaps. He hoped so.

Time would tell soon enough.

---

The tomb was, to his eye, almost boringly familiar.

Sith tombs were depressingly repetitive and almost predictable at times. Always underground, always in some temple that may or may not be protected. Always with their possessions, holocrons, and personal artifacts stowed near them – and of course, no grandiose tomb was complete without said centerpiece being in the middle, with a plaque for those who wished to indulge their ego.

And that was what all of this was in the end. A homage to lost power.

Vauner hadn't liked most Sith tombs, and not for the reasons most people did. Admittedly, he wouldn't deny that there was some jealousy, as his body had long since rotten under the punishing rays of Horuset. No packed funeral and loved ones crying over him, or an ornate coffin to lay his remains in.

Death though, was not something he believed should be celebrated, or indulged in. Those who died had moved from this plane of existence, and in many cases became irrelevant. Tombs often portrayed a power that rang hollow; a last testament to their ego and influence they had in life. Tombs which demanded respect, for who they had been.

Even if their remains were rotting husks.

However, that was the surface-level analysis – and while that was something he believed most Sith fell into, there were exceptions. There were some who he believed were more cunning. No self-respecting Sith would be content with eternity bound to a singular location. No, such tombs were not testaments to ego – they were traps.

Traps that would lure the unsuspecting into the tombs, where they would awaken an old spirit. One which would see a mortal body, and assume control of it. It was, admittedly, quite a cunning contingency, and he wondered how many Sith had schemed to do just that. It was too clever for many of them.

Which made the fact that Nox was supposedly still stuck here highly amusing to him.

A whole planet of those who have built an Order around your name, yet you remain in your incorporeal form. Was your failure so strong that you could not even show your face again, Nox? Content for the next failure to be at the hands of another?

Perhaps he would ask her.

He'd departed from Sashal for the day – it was important to address this particular issue here and now. Freedom was liberating, though he had taken the long way and made a point to walk around the Temple of the Dark Lords. It was surprisingly close to how he remembered it. The Order of Nox had, admittedly, preserved it well – or enabled the spirits who remained to do so.

Even the spirits backing away as they sensed his presence were familiar. They shrank back, and he suspected that if he wished, he could command them. They remembered Vitiate – and they remembered his Wrath. Even the dashade he had seen roaming the halls had merely eyed his incorporeal form warily, but did not utter a sound.

Nox's tomb hadn't been difficult to find. Well, hers and Lana's.

He didn't hold the same ire toward Nox's wife, and couldn't summon more energy to truly care than necessary. Lana had been… a moderating influence upon Nox's ambition. Quite a promising woman, highly competent, and admirably reasonable. Unsurprising that she had been drawn to Nox though – the woman had been powerful. Nox reciprocating was slightly more interesting.

Not that it mattered now.

He stood in the dusty tomb, simply waiting. He was content to wait as long as necessary, and had a suspicion that Nox would soon emerge to express her indignation if nothing else. He wasn't supposed to be here, after all.

His suspicions were soon proved correct.

"What are you doing here?" Nox hissed, materializing opposite him. Almost exactly how he remembered her. Black robes in the style of a dress, wavy raven-black hair that fell to her shoulders, and eyes covered by her miraluka blindfold. Her form shimmered and sparkled in the dim light, and illuminated her angry expression.

"Nox," he greeted with just a tinge of mockery, inclining his head. He knew she would be miffed that he didn't use her title. "You haven't aged a day."

"Irreverent as always." Nox's nostrils flared. "You should not be here, Vauner. You defile this place."

"Do I?" He cocked his head. "I have not altered a speck of dust in your tomb, Nox. It is not like you are receiving many visitors right now anyway." He started pacing. "As for how I am here, well, it is a long story. Suffice to say that I no longer find myself bound to Korriban. You, on the other hand, remain. Curious."

"You make assumptions, Vauner." She sniffed. "As you always do, in your arrogance."

"Do tell me I am wrong," he shot back, "Not that it matters. You are here now, so we can talk."

"We have nothing to discuss," Nox said flatly, "And while I cannot expunge your spirit on my own anymore, there are many of my Order who retain such proficiencies."

"Your Order?" Vauner chuckled at that. "Is that why you are in an old tomb, while the Order of Nox rules in Kaas City? Do they come by just enough to pay lip service, and make you feel special for a few minutes? Ah, Nox, you enjoy deluding yourself, but this is too much."

She frowned. "You test me, Vauner."

"Please, this is no place for a woman of your stature and power." Vauner smiled thinly, gesturing around him. "It is a striking tomb, but if you were truly involved in the affairs of 'your Order,' you would be in the center of Kaas City. So why are you here, Nox? Unwilling to assume responsibility after you plunged the galaxy into a dark age?"

The atmosphere around him became charged; he was more attuned to the movements of the Force. The subtle fluctuations had an outsized effect on him, and spirits were, of course, not solely bound to the realm of the immaterial. Nox was no exception, even if it was mostly confined to the emotional realm.

Her fury and hatred smoldered; it turned the atmosphere hot. "You forget to whom you speak. It sickens me that you were given such prominence in the Sith."

"Have you ever considered that was the point?" Vauner crossed his arms, unbothered by the torrent of raw fury and pain. "If the Emperor had wanted a sadistic monster, he had no shortage of options." He ticked them off his fingers. "Baras, the Dread Masters, yourself, Jadus – and make no mistake, such monsters he employed, and he was hardly any better. But he also was intelligent enough to understand that the foundations were rotten – and I was an appropriate instrument to fix them."

"And in doing so, you primed the Empire to fall," she retorted.

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Vauner shrugged. "I put the blame on Revan and the Eternal Empire more than my actions."

"A blind slave, as always," Nox muttered, "I grow tired of this."

"As do I, but I digress," he said, lifting a hand, "Now, I understand you can call upon your people if you so choose to expunge me, but you may want to reconsider that."

She watched him stoically. "Elaborate."

"I believe I warned you." Vauner smiled. "Daniel Skywalker said he would pass along a message."

"Oh, he did. Melodramatic and toothless. I would expect nothing less."

"I am here, aren't I?"

"And what did you intend with that threat? To harm Lestko?" a new voice asked, as the form of Lana Beniko materialized close to Nox, "You do not harm children, Vauner."

"No, I do not, though if you had asked me after I was used as a battery for your wife's power, I might have had a different opinion." His smile was thin, his teeth more bared than shown. "However, millennia of reflection and contemplation allow us to grow, and be the best version of ourselves. You would agree, no?"

"What then?" Nox demanded, "You are saying it was an idle threat? That is unlike you."

"No, Nox, merely that I've moved beyond petty acts of revenge," Vauner clarified, "I doubt you could muster outrage for the child, nor would it hurt you after millennia of seeing your descendants die in other ways. No, I have something more interesting in mind for the young Beni'vel."

Nox seemed unimpressed. "What, do you intend to possess him? Please, as if such actions wouldn't be noticed."

"Not quite," Vauner corrected, lifting a finger, "Something more… mutual. I have certain… allies now, who are aligned in the vision I wish for the Order of Nox."

"Your vision?" Lana was appraising him now. "Why are you telling us this, Vauner? To gloat? Celebrate? Because there is a flaw in your plan, one you must see."

"Yes, revealing my master plan is typically not the wisest of moves," Vauner agreed, continuing to pace, "Especially when one retains some influence over the powerful in the Order. I am telling you this so you do not interfere."

He could imagine Nox's eyebrow raised under her blindfold. "And just why, Vauner, would I not interfere?"

"Because you will be interfering with the plans of those with far greater power than you or I," Vauner said pointedly, "Did you think that Valkorian was the only one, Nox? That your death eliminated their kind from the galaxy?"

For the first time, Nox became visibly uneasy. Her voice was low, controlled, coiled, "What have you done?"

"Found an ally." Vauner noted Lana's own discomfort as she realized what he meant. "One who was kind enough to allow me to move freely through corporeal reality." He flicked a wrist. "I have no delusions about this agreement, I have no doubt my intentions play into certain schemes he has, but I've learned to take what I'm given."

"You have no idea of what you are doing," Nox hissed in outrage, stepping forward, "You are even more of a fool than I believed if you believe you can use one of these entities!"

"Use? Use?!" Vauner laughed in the face of the irate spirit. "I am not you, Nox. I am not trying to 'use' him. I am merely working with him. You were the one who was foolish enough to listen to Valkorian, to try and exploit him, and that was because you could never accept what you are, and what your role really was."

"Choose your words wisely, Vauner," Lana warned.

"We are past that, Lord Beniko," he answered flatly, "There is a hierarchy of power, Nox, and you could never be content with being anywhere but the top. You could not accept that you were inferior. So, you rationalized it away, you let Valkorian use you, all the while thinking you were using him. Unlike you, however, I have no delusions as to where I stand. I did it with Vitiate, and I do it with Ludex."

Vauner was deriving more enjoyment from this than he'd expected. "Such deity-like entities are easier to understand than you think. They have bigger matters to concern themselves with, and if you defy them, you will earn nothing but death or oblivion. However, be receptive, and you can accomplish quite a lot with the freedom given."

"I was never content to be a slave to even those more powerful," Nox snapped, "Unlike you. You always needed a master to command, to order." She snorted. "What freedom you have, as you dance to the strings of another."

"And yet here our interests align, and I am past caring about such meaningless labels," Vauner said, "The point being, I am going to approach Lestko. I will assist the boy, and allow him to achieve the potential that will be denied to him in the halls of Kaas politics. And he and I are going to remake the Order of Nox into something more…" He paused dramatically. "Ideal. And you are going to watch, as I turn your legacy into something you despise."

He lifted a hand as Nox glared at him with furious hate. "And if you interfere, Nox, you or Lana, I will request that my Force-wielder ally pay a brief visit, and dissipate your spirits into the Netherrealm. Perhaps you may prefer that, I will not judge." He lowered his hand. "A bit more elegant form of revenge, would you not agree?"

"And you will fail." Nox glowered. "Unlike you, power is recognized in my Order. They will never accept your plans and weakness, regardless of if you use Lestko as a puppet or not."

"Are you certain?" Vauner snorted. "When the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order is speaking about how he views the Order of Nox as being potential allies because of the inclinations of some of their Knights, it speaks to how weak the hold of the dark side has become. The old ways of the Sith failed, and I have no intention of seeing them be employed any longer."

"Enjoy your machinations while they last, Vauner," Lana warned, "These entities are not benevolent. It will demand something of you one day, and you will see how you were used the entire time."

"Perhaps, Lana, perhaps," Vauner admitted wistfully, "Remember what I said, because this will be the only time I wish to speak to you. Goodbye, Darth Nox. Let us hope we do not meet again."

He did not wait for an answer, and withdrew his body from the corporeal world. It was done, and there was more to prepare for.

And a young man to meet.

---

This was going to be, without a doubt, quite possibly the most difficult and controversial thing he would do. However… it needed to be done. If not for the mission, then for himself. It was long past time this wrong was corrected, or at least addressed.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lara asked as he stood in front of the deactivated holoprojector, "It is…"

"I know," he said, "And he may hang up. However, I need to make the attempt."

"Mm-hmm." She pursed her lips, looking up at him warily. "You have that look, and I have an idea of what you are thinking."

He smiled faintly. "Do you? And what do you think?"

"What do I think?" She leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I'm proud of you."

"Don't congratulate me quite yet," he said, though his heart warmed at the affection, "but thank you."

"You can do it," she said, stepping back, "I'll leave you to it, Grand Master."

She left the small room, leaving him alone. Right, no point wasting time further. He cleared his throat, and put in the communications code. Admittedly, he wasn't sure if the code even still worked – and if it didn't, it was going to be a problem. Arnica had given him a more updated one, but even she had said she wasn't sure if it would still work.

The wait only lasted for a few moments and Alexander Solo appeared on the holoprojector. He looked just like he had in the vision, though his attire was closer to a simple businessman than the ceremonial robes he'd been wearing. There was no lightsaber on his waist though, something he'd probably removed when talking to others.

"Daniel?" Alexander said, a look of cautious surprise on his face.

"Alexander, it's good to see you," he returned, inclining his head.

"Likewise, Daniel," Alexander answered, appraising him carefully, "I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"I imagine not. There has been a mistake on my part, one I hope to rectify now."

Alexander rubbed his chin. "Well, I won't turn that down. How is Lara? The Order still functioning?"

Small talk, Alexander was likely trying to buy time to piece together why he was calling. "Lara is doing well, thank you. The Order is… has its issues, of which you're likely familiar with."

He smiled thinly. "I can imagine. Nice to see you acknowledge it now. But while I'm glad to see you, Daniel, you don't just call out of the blue years later."

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I just wanted to call," Daniel said, "I would like to meet with you, face-to-face."

Alexander cocked his head. "Any particular reason?"

"Do I need a reason to visit with family?"

"Family…" Alexander repeated the word, his expression almost nostalgic, "To be blunt, I'm surprised to hear that, Daniel. Surprised, but glad. If you want to meet, I would… appreciate that."

That was the first part done. "I'm traveling through the Outer Rim at the moment. I'm told you're on Christophsis?"

"Well-informed as always, I see," Alexander said dryly, "But yes, for the moment. My business here is coming to an end, I'm afraid. I'll be leaving by the end of the week."

Good, so he was there, assuming he wasn't lying. "I'm two days away. I can meet you for a drink or dinner then."

Luckily it seemed he was serious, as he looked up, contemplating. "That can work, I've been free in the evenings. I'll make a reservation at the Yularen." He paused, looking at Daniel almost amused. "Still eating fried nerfsteaks?"

"Only when Lara isn't looking," Daniel said with a chuckle.

"I admit I was surprised to hear you and her became an item. Quite scandalous for the Grand Master of the Order," Alexander lightly teased, "Yoda would have disapproved."

Daniel scratched his beard. "Well, I think both of us know that Yoda isn't right about everything."

"Touché, Daniel," Alexander conceded, "Still can't believe you like those things. Especially at your age. Lara has better taste than you."

"Don't be jealous, Alexander," Daniel replied, "I'm sure you'll find a nice girl of your own one day, and she will take away your favorite meal."

Alexander chuckled. "Funny you should say that, Daniel. I'll have to give my wife a call letting her know I'll miss our evening chat. She gets annoyed if I forget."

"Oh?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Belated congratulations."

"Thank you, I suppose we can properly catch up soon," he said, "I'll see you in two days, Daniel. Fly safe." He waved a hand.

"See you then," Daniel said, and the holocommunicator switched off.

That had gone well.

"And the verdict?" Lara said, walking in.

"Two days, on Christophsis," Daniel answered, "Also, it seems he's married."

"Oh, is that so?" Lara cocked her head. "Well… pass along my congratulations. How did he seem?"

"He seemed… open," Daniel said, "Maybe a bit suspicious, but he is open. Like how I remembered him."

"Good," Lara said, "I hope it works out."

"So do I," Daniel mused, "So do I."

---

The restaurant was a fairly high-end one. The crystal cities of Christophsis were known across the galaxy as some of the most striking, and they received no shortage of tourists – even if they had to go through the Outer Rim to get to it. It was an interesting world, and he could imagine there was one particular reason why Alexander would be interested in it for 'business' reasons.

There were rumors that Christophsis held a cache of crystals that could be refined for lightsabers. A rumor, but one which popped up every few months. The world was too out-of-the-way for the Jedi to look into, and they had enough worlds to source lightsaber crystals. For an incognito Sith Order, however, perhaps there was more interest.

That was something to determine later though.

For now, he had a meal to eat, and family to visit.

He wore clothes that shrouded his features, and had used a pseudonym that Alexander had thankfully employed. Not that he was in disguise, but he projected an aura of forgetfulness as he walked. If people happened to recognize him, they would find him difficult to recall.

He still watched for cameras. One could never be too careful, and he was additionally on the watch for any spies here. While he didn't think Alexander would lure him into a trap, especially here, it was something he had to be on the lookout for when dealing with a Sith.

As of now, it seemed clear.

He entered the restaurant, and spoke to the receptionist who directed him to one of the private booths elevated above the main dining room.

Alexander was already waiting, and he stood and waved. "Daniel! Glad you made it."

"Alexander." He shook his hand, smiling. "Glad to see you again, it's been too long."

"That it has," he said, gesturing into the booth, "I assume you'll be scanning for bugs?"

"Old habits die hard," Daniel said as they entered, as the frosted glass obscured anything seeing in or out, "Though if you're asking…"

"Yes, I took care of it." Alexander flicked out a high-end detector – not military, but very high-end, and it looked to have been customized. "You're not the only one who values his privacy."

Potentially to lull him into complacency, but he sensed nothing duplicitous from Alexander – a good sign. "It's good that you reserved a private booth."

"Thought it necessary." Alexander smiled. "I can't imagine you want people gawking at the Grand Master the whole time."

"I've grown used to it," Daniel said with a wave.

"Sure, sure," Alexander said as he pulled up his menu, "Take your time here, we can order through drones. Top of the line, this restaurant. You pay for privacy, you get privacy. I suspect it's being managed by several local crime lords and this place is a front, but it comes in handy for conducting business. Or catching up."

"So it seems." Daniel perused the menu. "You seem to be doing well."

"Quite well, Daniel, never better in fact." He sounded genuinely satisfied. "I won't lie and say it was an easy few years after leaving the Order, but it was worth it. Finding yourself always is, so yes, I'm doing very well. You?"

Daniel smiled sadly as he put in his order. "Between us, Alexander, I've been better."

He raised an eyebrow. "Jedi politics? Or the usual variety."

"Is 'both' a sufficient answer?"

Alexander chuckled. "I'd recommend you leave, but you won't do that."

"It's not just politics," Daniel said, "There are… other things at play right now. Worse."

Alexander cocked his head, interested for more reasons than catching up. "Do tell – if it's not classified, or I shouldn't know. I promise I won't be offended."

"Let's not start with the heavy topics," Daniel said, as the door chimed and his water was brought by a droid, "This is about catching up. What is this business you are involved in? It sounds like you've done well for yourself."

"Technically, I'm often referred to as a 'freelancer,' " Alexander corrected, "I move things between people, serve as a negotiator if necessary, and make deals of my own. If you're a good pilot and negotiator, well, people have need of you. The Solo charm has been good for something, at least."

They talked some more about the business, and Daniel asked a number of questions, both out of personal interest, but also professional. Metals, crystals, weapons, everything he was involved in notably had a military element, or was extremely lucrative. An impressive operation, and he could tell Alexander was omitting certain, mostly harmless, details.

Their food was soon brought, and they both dug in. Daniel had shared a little about the state of the Order, but mostly an overview. Back to Alexander. "So, your wife," Daniel said, "who's the lucky woman?"

"Keaxia," Alexander said fondly, "My wife and partner-in-crime so to speak in this little endeavor. Funny story about how we met – she tried to kill me."

Daniel sipped his water, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really." Alexander seemed to enjoy telling this story. "Granted, she didn't exactly want to. Not exactly the best family situation with her – her and her siblings were always pressured to prove their strength."

"What was she?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. "A bounty hunter? Some assassin clan?"

Alexander hesitated. "Of a sort, point being that we had a nice long talk, and I convinced her that she didn't need to adhere to her family's rather… barbaric traditions. Gave her an out, so to speak. One thing led to another and…" He sipped his drink. "Here we are. I'm happy, she's happy, and everything is resolved."

"And her family?"

"Dealt with." Alexander waved a dismissive hand. "Truthfully, they'd just written her off as a disappointment, which she seems content with."

All of that was quite fascinating. Daniel was certain that this woman was likely a Sith, as it would line up with the 'trying to kill him' angle. Quite interesting, and he wasn't sure he'd have put that together if he hadn't already known certain things about Alexander. He'd not failed to note he'd omitted details about her appearance. Intentional?

"Do you have an image?" Daniel asked innocently, "I'd like to see her, since sadly I doubt we'll meet anytime soon."

"Afraid not, I don't keep holos of her when I work," Alexander answered in a practiced tone. He had likely anticipated this. "Safety reasons. Only call through comms, no holos. Safer that way, had a few close calls. Not ideal, but I hope you can understand."

"Don't worry, I've dealt with similar situations," Daniel said, deciding to let it drop. He had what he wanted anyway.

"You enjoying your meal?" Alexander asked after a few minutes of eating.

"Delicious, I'll have to remember this place," Daniel said, as he sat back, "I'm happy to hear that you've been doing well, Alexander. It's good to hear, though if I can be honest, there were some more things I wanted to talk about."

Alexander didn't sound surprised, "I've got all night."

"I wish it was to catch up, and in a manner of speaking, we are, but…" Daniel trailed off, "I wanted to apologize. For everything that happened in the Order. I was derelict in my duties. I abandoned you to your fate without ever questioning."

Alexander seemed slightly surprised and taken aback by the revelation. Not upset, just surprised. He hadn't expected this, at least from him. He was quiet for a few moments. "I appreciate it Daniel, belated as it is." He smiled gently. "But also, I came to terms with it a while ago. You're not my father, you're the Grand Master of the Order, and relation or not, I was just one Jedi. I'm more mature than I was, and I don't blame you for it."

"Perhaps, but I don't think that excuses me," Daniel said, clasping his hands together and resting them on the table, "Especially since it wasn't the first time this has happened. When you left, I made so many assumptions. Excuses, really. That it was just personal differences. That I couldn't speak to you about them because I didn't want to pressure you to remain. Excuses, as I said."

Alexander thought for a moment. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Why you left. The real reason."

The real reason. He saw Alexander appraising him closely, his eyes meeting his own, calculating. Determining. There was an ever-so-gentle probe with the Force to ascertain his truthfulness. After long seconds, he seemed to come to a decision, and poured some more wine. "I'm assuming you heard the 'given' reason, and found what I would call the 'catalyst.' "

"Something of the sort."

"Mm." Alexander looked off to the side. "You would think that finding a trafficked girl in the Order would warrant something. At least that's what I assumed. I found out names, I talked to her, saw the place itself. Freed her even, all by accident, mind you. Naturally, I took it up the chain. A mistake, as it turned out."

He sighed. "The girl I 'saved' vanished, no instructors corroborated anything I said, and my own recollection was questioned… extensively. No one believes a Padawan, after all. It was a long, complicated process that I'm not inclined to repeat, Daniel, suffice to say that I found evidence of crimes in the Order, and it was covered up with the skill of someone who'd done this before. They didn't threaten me or my career – Solos get some perks, but…" He shook his head. "I can't stay in a place which allows such crimes to be perpetuated. Or so I told myself. In truth, it was just one final straw."

"On the Order?"

"I didn't know what we were, Daniel," Alexander said, leaning forward, "but whatever we were supposed to be, we were not Jedi. Everywhere I turned, there was corruption. There were Jedi soldiers in bed with the military industries. Diplomats that influence and play the political games in the Senate. At every point I saw our Order working to prop up something that was decaying and collapsing."

He shook his head, taking another drink. "The Jedi are no better than any corrupt institution. We were supposed to be…" He waved a hand. "Better. We were supposed to make the lives of the people better. Protect the innocent. Instead, we sacrificed every value we had for the sake of 'peace' and 'democracy' and power."

Alexander swirled the wine in his glass. "And for what? That was something I've never been able to answer. Everyone is too focused on their own ambitions, their own comfort, and their own corruption. There are good people in the Order but…" He returned his eyes to Daniel. "To be blunt, you could have done more."

"I know, Alexander." He sighed. "I know very well now. More than I did. And I intend to start changing. The Order is… it must be changed, even if that change must be drastic."

"I wish you luck in that," Alexander said warily, "I truly do. If you wanted to ask me back though, the answer is no."

"You still have your lightsaber, do you not?"

Alexander hesitated, and then reached into his clothing and pulled it out. "I may not be a Jedi, but I keep in practice with it." He returned it to his clothes. "The Force is still with me, even if it is a more… unorthodox application. Something I keep to myself."

"I'm sorry, Alexander." Daniel sighed. "There's so much I wish I'd done differently."

"We all do, and we need to move on," Alexander said, "I do have a question though. Why now?"

"I suppose you could say I'm on a journey of…" Daniel paused. "Self-reflection. And I fear for the future. I can see so easily now what I have done wrong, where I have failed, and that I need to do everything I can to fix my mistakes before it's too late."

Alexander watched him carefully. "You make it sound like you're dying."

"If it was just myself, I wouldn't be so worried." Daniel smiled sadly. "I worry more for the galaxy than my own health."

"And you want to make amends with me," Alexander said slowly, "To forgive."

"If you would, it would be a burden lifted," Daniel said, "There is more though. In this journey, I've… seen things."

"What things?" Alexander's tone was ever more tense now, and he shifted in his seat.

"The future, or many futures, none of them good," he said, "The galaxy is headed for an age of strife and conflict. It is worse than you could imagine. What I intend to do is prevent the worst from taking hold, and correcting my mistakes along the way. And I have a limited amount of time to do that."

Alexander was more tense now, yet imperceptibly so. "Daniel, I do appreciate you sharing this with me… but I am not a Jedi any longer. I'm simply a freelancer. I don't save the galaxy like you do. That path is closed to me."

Here it went.

"Is it?" Daniel asked, "You don't have to lie to me, Alexander. I know you joined the Sith. I know they endure, and they are plotting."

Several different emotions flickered across Alexander's face. Surprise, concern, fear, uncertainty, but none of them were able to take hold, leaving him almost paralyzed. His body was tensed now, spikes of adrenaline pumping through him. Opposite him sat Daniel – calm, collected, and waiting.

Finally, Alexander almost slumped back into his chair, and took a sip of his wine. A long one. "Are you here to kill me, Daniel?"

"Kill you?"

"Yes, kill me." He smiled faintly. "That is what Jedi do, no? Especially you. You hunt and kill those who threaten the Order, but especially the Sith."

"There was a time where I might agree," Daniel said, "but things have changed. It's become clearer to me that those labels mask a complexity that can't be so easily defined. You may call yourself 'Sith,' but I do not sense the darkness in you, yet there are many in the Order who are tainted, myself not excluded."

He gestured aimlessly. "In this journey I've met, fought, and worked with Sith, Jedi, and Force-users of all kinds and beliefs. I do not claim to know the dynamics of your role in the Sith – but I do know that you have not been corrupted. No, Alexander, I do not intend to kill you."

He saw the young man relax ever so slightly. "You really have changed."

"Lara has been a good influence."

"Apparently." Alexander shook his head, almost in disbelief. "I won't ask how you know. A vision if I had to guess." He lifted a hand. "Don't answer that. How much… do you know?"

"Less than I would like," Daniel said, "I know your leader is a Sith named Vathila. I know some of the names of your Councilors on your Dark Council. I know a fair bit of the Order of Nox, considering I visited Dromund Kaas."

"You visited Dromund Kaas?" Alexander cocked his head. "Why?"

"To speak to Nox, it was an interesting conversation," Daniel said, "And I happened to run into the future Princess in her ward. Her caretaker was quite… illuminating as to the reality of this new Sith Collective. Not simply a single shade, but a spectrum."

"Nox is like that." Alexander rubbed his chin. "You clearly didn't meet the more… concerning parts of the Collective."

"It still demonstrated that labels were unhelpful. The Knight could have easily passed as a Jedi."

"Aye." Alexander nodded. "They are far from the only ones. A spectrum is… accurate. A means to an end, but accurate."

"And I am curious," Daniel said, "This… disparate Collective can't last. I'm amazed it has lasted this long."

"Daniel, the Sith Collective is not meant to last." Alexander smiled thinly. "The only reason it has endured is because Vathila keeps us focused on the only objective that matters: the destruction of the Jedi Order. When that is done…" He gestured to the side. "We find out which among us is the strongest. And the winner will remake the galaxy in our ideal image."

"And where do you fit in this?"

"The Alliance has failed. The Imperium has failed. The Jedi have failed," Alexander listed off, "I will do what the Jedi have failed to do. I will shatter the old systems of this galaxy, and I will build a new one to replace it. One that lacks the flaws of the old orders, I will make something new. Something beyond Jedi and Sith, but it will be as the Jedi were meant to be. No longer will our kind serve the criminal and wealthy, but the common people of the galaxy."

"Idealistic."

"We all need an ideal," Alexander said, "Even if it is long and hard. I have been privileged with power, Daniel. I intend to use it for these ends. To be Sith, Daniel, is to acquire and use power. Alignment doesn't matter, only actions." He paused. "I suspect Vathila has seen something similar to you. She believes the end of the Order is coming."

"Something I intend to prevent."

"I'm sure you do," he said, "And will we be enemies?"

He could see that Alexander wanted it to be a negative, he truly believed in what he was saying, and that he did not wish to harm him. It was enough. Daniel knew this was not going to be popular – at all – but it was necessary given the stakes. "We cannot afford to be enemies, Alexander. There are greater threats than the Sith."

That took him aback. "As someone familiar with the Sith, Daniel, no. Just… no."

Daniel took a drink of his water. "Have you heard of the Force-wielders? Or the sharu? Or the Elder One?"

"Yes, no, and no," Alexander said, "The Order of Vitiate has been conducting research into them. The others…"

"There is a living Force-wielder," Daniel said, "And I have… allied with them, for lack of a better word."

He didn't miss the sharp intake of breath. "You are serious."

"Because there is something worse coming," Daniel said, "Something which unmakes our own understanding of the Force. Something greater than it. I have seen this, and it will come to our galaxy."

"This is…" Alexander shook his head. "A lot to take in. This was not how I expected our conversation to go."

"And I want you to help," Daniel said, "Jedi, Sith, and beyond, this is bigger than myself or the Order. I believe that you can be trusted, that you can understand the stakes. The Jedi, the Empire, the Quabular, I am amassing people that I believe can be trusted to work to avert the future I've seen."

He lifted a hand. "But seeing may be believing. I want you to meet me on a planet at these coordinates. This is where we are starting."

Alexander took the datachip and plugged it into his datapad. "Athiss?"

"Have you heard of it?"

"Heard of it, yes. I thought it was abandoned."

"Only mostly abandoned."

"I see…" Alexander looked at the planet briefly, then nodded. "I will come. To see this, if nothing else. And don't worry, I won't share anything we've discussed."

"I didn't expect you to." Daniel nodded. "But thank you all the same."

Yaden was going to kill him for bringing another Sith into the loop, and even he was hoping that this was the right decision. But he had a feeling that it was. Alexander was their best hope in the Sith, and if he could be aligned, then they may, just may, be able to affect actual change.

Still, he had a feeling that a few of the Jedi were not going to be happy.

---

"Daniel," Yaden said calmly, "I would really, really like to know exactly what you were thinking."

"I'm thinking of the big picture." Daniel supposed he should be glad that Yaden was more exasperated than anything else. "And this is a necessary step."

"Daniel, he is with the Sith," Yaden repeated, slowly, deliberately. "That is, to use the lightest of terms, problematic."

"So was Sashal," Daniel reminded him.

"Sashal was a young woman of middling power who could be dealt with without significant difficulty," Yaden pointed out, "Alexander Solo is purportedly the head of his own Sith Order, interacts with the Collective's leader on a regular basis, and has been outside the Jedi Order for years. There is a difference."

"I know it is a risk," Daniel said, "I'm saying that we need to accept it."

A sigh was what he received in response as Yaden began walking away. "I hope you know what you are doing."

So did he. As personally confident as he was in Alexander being an ally, he also knew that in almost all instances, he wouldn't have done this. But the stakes were too high, and the consequences too significant to not have every option on the table. As he saw it, if they didn't take these steps, then their future would be that much more difficult to pursue.

"I have to admit." Pon joined him on the duracrete, as they waited for Alexander to arrive. "This is one of your more… unorthodox ideas."

Daniel glanced at him. "Do you disagree?"

"I cannot admit to being comfortable with this arrangement," Pon affirmed, "However, you know the man, and I do not. If you believe he can be relied on, then I will defer to you. Nonetheless, putting our trust in a self-proclaimed Sith is… well, I would prefer we do not make a habit out of it."

"I suspect this will be the last 'Sith' that we deal with in this manner," Daniel assured him, patting him on the shoulder, "I think we've exhausted our options otherwise."

"I don't know if I should be relieved at that or not," Pon said, half-seriously, "However, Ludex has indicated that he wishes to depart for Tython shortly. I'm concerned that his presence will be… noticeable."

"As am I," Daniel muttered, rubbing his chin, "However, I don't think we will be able to get around that. We'll just have to arrive through a different route. Luckily, the entrance to the tunnels is isolated."

"Still, I suspect we will not be able to complete this without attracting some notice," Pon said, "Even if the presence of a Force-wielder is overlooked, should we find this Thought Bomb and destroy it…"

"Impossible to hide," Daniel conceded, "Also impossible to prevent. We'll have to contain the fallout afterwards. I doubt they'll find the source."

"Nonetheless, we should be prepared," Pon told him, "Tocrum in particular will be looking for answers."

That was an unfortunate reality, and Daniel hoped that he was not the first person called. More likely he would call someone on the planet, or one of his allies – Uniden perhaps – before him. For once, his estranged relationship with the Councilor of Conciliation and Reflection would be beneficial.

Hopefully.

The temple on Athiss was showing signs of more activity, as Imperials had arrived a few days ago, mostly setting up in the temple proper, though they had adapted the living spaces for their own usage. There were some modernization upgrades being applied by droids, which were being done right now.

Automation was a wonderful thing.

"It seems we have arrivals," Pon said, as an X-wing streaked overhead – joined by another small fighter.

"Looks like he brought a friend," Daniel muttered, crossing his arms.

"You don't sound surprised," Pon noted dryly, "However, I suspect this wasn't the plan?"

"Technically, he didn't promise he would come alone," Daniel said, "It's probably his mysterious wife."

Pon cocked his head. "Mysterious?" he drawled.

"In that I don't know much about her," Daniel said, "Other than I suspect she helped found his Sith Order. He did allude to her having a role in that."

"Let us hope it is just a wife, and not something more nefarious," Pon said.

A few minutes later the fighters descended onto the landing pads. The hatches opened, and Alexander dropped down first. He was outfitted in gear that was more designed for combat than leisure, though still light. There was some plating, and thick cloth, colored in white and blue. Certainly a far cry from the Sith fashion of black, black, and more black.

The second figure that jumped down from their respective fighter was definitely a female. She was significantly lither than Alexander, though almost his height. Her attire was closer to a utility robe, though a hood obscured her face. Her colors were also blue and white, which Daniel supposed was the dress code of Alexander's Order.

She was definitely a Force-user – a powerful one from what he could sense. Twin hilts hung on her belt, which immediately narrowed down the list of potential fighting styles. Alexander's own lightsaber hung on his belt.

"Master Skywalker, Master Tiian," Alexander greeted as he walked up, "Good to see you again."

"You as well," Daniel said, giving his hand a firm shake, "I see you brought someone with you."

"Yes, I did." Alexander coughed. "This is Keaxia. Don't be… too alarmed."

An odd warning, but Daniel soon saw the reason for it. The woman pulled her hood back, revealing crimson skin, fleshy tendrils that hung from her chin, cheeks, and eyebrows. Her amber eyes were piercing, and her face was sharp and predatory.

"Well, well." Pon appraised her with curiosity. "A sith pureblood. How unexpected."

"Especially considering they are supposed to be extinct," Daniel added.

"Nearly extinct, Master Jedi, and I would call myself 'massassi,' not 'sith,' " Keaxia said, her voice lower than he had expected. Likely a feature of her physiology.

"Interesting." Daniel rubbed his chin. "I was under the impression that 'massassi' was simply the warrior caste of the sith, not a distinct species."

She pursed her lips in contemplation. "I believe you are correct, Master Jedi. Truthfully, we've referred to ourselves as 'massassi' for so long it has become our identity. We have few progenitors today." She glanced to Alexander. "Alex wished honesty, so I will honor his wish. I was born of Lady Vathila. Nominal leader of the Sith Collective."

"Yaden is going to love this," Pon muttered, "However, that is good to know. And I trust that you do not necessarily follow the… tendencies of your mother?"

Her jaw tightened slightly at the word 'mother.' "No, and for that I am thankful," she said, "One advantage of being considered a disappointment is that she gives me even less attention than before. Something I am quite content with."

"So not a doting parent then," Pon noted wryly, "I imagine that's typical of Sith."

Keaxia furrowed her tendrilled brow. "The Children are simply part of her Order. No more, no less. She does not acknowledge us as her sons and daughters… only Mischa received that honor."

That was a name he hadn't heard yet. Daniel appraised her carefully. "Should we be concerned about this 'Mischa'?"

She shrugged. "One day perhaps. She is a mere child at the moment, but she is strong in the Force. Once she undertakes the Trials, she may be on par with Lady Vathila herself. That bodes ill if she is raised in her image."

"Troubling," Pon said, stroking his rebreather in contemplation, "There's little we can do at this time, but we should make note of her. The last thing we need is for Vathila to have a ready-picked successor."

"True," Daniel nodded before turning back to Keaxia and asking, "What can you tell us about your father?"

"Few of her offspring know their fathers," she said, almost regretfully, "It tends to be whoever she fancies at the time. All I know is that my father was a massassi as well. I know nothing more, and have no desire to learn."

"Noted, a pleasure to meet you," Daniel said, deciding to continue, "Now, follow me to the temple. There are things for you to know, and we do not have long until we must depart for Tython."

---

The flight to Tython was thankfully without incident.

They weren't taking the Falcon or any of their personal starships; too much of a risk that they could be spotted. Instead, they were flying in a small stealth craft Yaden had brought along with him. The Sphere of Vigilance and Farsight never had a shortage of such ships, and if there was ever a time to draw upon that, it was here.

The Sphere wouldn't miss one ship for a few days, especially one requested by the Eternal Watcher personally.

The meeting between Yaden and Alexander had gone… well enough. He hadn't been thrilled he was here at all, but he had conceded that Alexander at least, did not seem corrupted. He still watched him like a hawk, as well as his wife. Nonetheless, he didn't make a scene, and spent most of the flight piloting.

To his mild surprise, Keaxia and Lara had struck up a conversation which he was paying attention to in the background, content to listen as both of them talked. There had been various levels of suspicion from the Jedi – not unjustified, but suspicion all the same – and it didn't exactly make for a welcoming atmosphere, especially with Yaden in the mix.

Lara had been the exception, as she usually was, and the young massassi had gravitated to her as a result once Alexander had gotten into discussions with others on the ship.

"You are not typical of your kind," Keaxia was saying, her hands resting on her lap, "They are suspicious of me, though not you I see. Why?"

Lara smiled softly at her. "Experience, I would say. I'm older than I look, and I've gotten to see a lot of people. Healing takes you to many places, and you meet many people. I consider myself a good judge of character. To be a Jedi is to see the best in people, despite what the galaxy may sometimes say. You're a bright spot in the Force, you are purer than many Jedi to my disappointment. Anyone who can maintain that in the darkness you are surrounded by is someone I know can be trusted."

Keaxia seemed surprised by that. Perhaps by the admission, or that Lara was so sure. "I don't know how sometimes. It is… isolating. Until Alex, I didn't think there was anyone else who thought like me. There were the Revanites, and a few others, but otherwise…" She shook her head. "I'm a disappointment to our Lady and her Order, and not without reason. I lack the ambition or will to pursue it. Even compared to my husband."

"That is not a vice, dear." Lara put a comforting hand on her arm. "Not everyone needs to be the one who changes the galaxy. Helping in small ways can be impactful. Besides, from what I understand of your philosophy, one should pursue what they wish to do, no?"

A short rough laugh from the Sith. "I need to remember that. In theory, you are right. In practice though, despite what is claimed, there are certain… expectations. Especially for me."

"I can imagine, considering your mother."

"Yes. You mentioned you were a healer?"

"Indeed, no fancy lightsabers or fantastical displays of power," Lara said, "but it is powerful in its own way. I prefer to save lives by preserving life, not taking it."

"Healing isn't something the Sith pursue," Keaxia said, looking down at her hands, "Texts on it are rare. It's not the Sith way, or the methods they have are… twisted. I have an affinity for it, I think that is part of why I am repulsed by some of my kin."

"You have a talent for healing?"

"I would not consider myself experienced, much of it has been…" She waved a hand. "Experimentation. I had been talking with Tova Ren about studying beneath her, but that would have required me to join the Order of Snoke. Once I met Alex, the thought of being a mindless drone lost its appeal."

"Hmm." Lara looked at her, a finger to her chin. "If you wish, I could share some of what I know. We do not have much time, of course, but it is always better if there are more people who use the Force to heal instead of destroy."

Keaxia cocked her head in surprise, but then bowed it. "I would like that, Master Jedi."

Daniel made a note of the new name as he smiled at the exchange, and as Lara began talking to her about details and minutia he had no real knowledge of, he moved away from the conversation, and decided to see how the other conversation in the ship was going. The voices of Vodal and Alexander were soon audible, and clearly both were still going at it.

For his part, Vodal was quite interested to learn more about the current incarnation of the Sith. The discussion had been surprisingly cordial, even if Vodal had not been quiet about his own views.

"For all her belief in 'remaking' the Sith, her solution is as flawed as all of the others," Vodal snorted, "In the end, it is merely a contest of strength and cunning. She has not changed the Sith, she has merely delayed their inevitable betrayal. Ironically, she has already lost her war. She has conceded to the Jedi."

"In what way?" Alexander asked.

"By the simple fact that you exist." He pointed a finger at his chest. "By expanding the definition of 'Sith' to be beyond the dark side, she has conceded that the defeat of the Jedi is impossible unless the entirety of the Force is utilized to bring about their downfall. She is not wrong, but it is an irony I doubt she has the self-awareness to understand."

"It is more complicated," Alexander sighed, "Allowing a… wider spectrum of beliefs is a means to an end. She is more than willing to temper her internal distaste for Sith like myself if it will result in the defeat of the Jedi."

"Such a basic, simple-minded understanding of the Force." Vodal shook his head almost in disappointment. "I expected better, but perhaps it is too much to hope for a Sith such as her. In effect, she will accomplish nothing. The conflict between light and dark is not something that can ever be resolved – call them 'Jedi' or 'Sith,' it will change nothing. She will fail in the end, and perhaps that is what I find amusing. So close, she is, but in pursuit of a futile dream."

"I would not underestimate her." Alexander pursed his lips. "You've not been in her presence."

Vodal laughed. "Sith, I have been in the presence of true power. I have no doubt your leader is powerful – but power alone does not guarantee success. Look to the ruins of empires long before your own. Vathila may succeed in destroying the Jedi, but Palpatine accomplished the same thing. Ask how long that lasted."

"But—"

"This time will be different?" Vodal raised an eyebrow. "Sith, you have agreed to work with Jedi now. Before the grand showdown has happened. Your Collective has been compromised before the first shot has been fired. Being honest about the coming betrayal means little when betrayal still comes. I assure you, Sith, your Collective will splinter the moment the factions see an opportunity, as is the way of the Sith."

"I don't fully disagree," Alexander said, "Though I would argue she has determined a significantly more accurate definition for what it is to be Sith – even if that includes individuals she despises."

"And that is why I consider her marginally more intelligent than her predecessors." Vodal stroked his chin. "She is attempting to condemn the Jedi to irrelevance by making the Sith encompass all of the Force. A curious approach, but one which will fail all the same."

Daniel leaned against the wall and watched before Pon walked up to him and quietly asked, "They're still at it?"

"It seems so," Daniel said, "It's been an interesting discussion."

"Has it now?"

"Quite, is there something happening?"

"We're coming up on Tython," Pon said, "The others are preparing."

"Alright, I'll head up to the cockpit then."

Pon moved away, and Daniel left for the cockpit and stood behind Yaden as he brought them toward the Je'daii homeworld.

"Good, I was about to bring us down." Yaden, flicked up the commlink. "We are approaching Tython. All passengers strap in, this may be a rough landing."

"Is it that bad?" Daniel asked as he sat down.

"There's a storm, several in fact," Yaden said as he moved his fingers over the haptic controls. Daniel strapped in, and checked he was secured. "Stealth systems are engaged, they're blind to our approach."

The ship entered the atmosphere, rattling the hull as they pushed through the storm, and into the planet directly. The coordinates were far from the Jedi Temple and other settlements, and Daniel only saw trees, mountains, and hills until the horizon. Yet even the power of the Force here was not enough to completely mask the presence of another.

The presence of a Force-wielder.

Yaden slightly nodded. "It seems he is here."

The presence grew stronger as they approached the landing area – and it was clear where they were supposed to go. Ludex had assured them that there would be space to land – and it seemed like the space had been effectively razed to make room. As if a chunk of the forest had been uprooted.

It nonetheless worked well as a landing spot.

Unstrapping, Daniel stood and moved to where the rest of them were congregated in the main hold.

Alexander looked outside. "That's him, isn't it?"

Vodal smiled at that. "Indeed it is, Sith."

Uncertainty flashed across Alexander's face, but he nodded. "Let's go then."

Daniel looked behind him as the ramp lowered, at the collection of men and women behind him. Jedi, Sith, Imperials, long-dead immortals, and found something quite special about all of it. Viola and Osoad had come from the Imperium, Alexander and Keaxia from the Sith, and Lara, Pon, and Yaden from the Jedi. Vodal was in an interesting class of his own.

All now gathered to meet a Force-wielder, destroy a Thought Bomb, and prevent a dark future.

Ludex stood before the mountain they had landed in front of. There were a couple others who stood beside him, at least one of whom was from the Quabular Kaarnan. Ludex's presence was all-encompassing, as if he was the Force. "Jedi Skywalker, it is good you have arrived."

"I have, and with allies," Daniel said, nodding.

"So I see." Ludex stroked his beard as he appraised those gathered. His electric eyes fixated on each one of them, except the Jedi. He had not met the Imperials or Sith, so it was understandable. If there was anything problematic, Daniel supposed that now was when they would learn. He hoped there was nothing, else it would be… awkward.

It seemed like Ludex lingered on Keaxia longer, and the corners of his lips twitched, as if realizing something amusing. He did not comment though, as the massassi almost withered under his gaze. It was a longer process than Daniel had anticipated, but finally Ludex nodded. "Your people are sufficient. A curious gathering, but they will serve well enough."

He indicated the Quabular who were beside him. One was, of all things, a trandoshan who was wearing utilitarian robes, indicating a more reliant Force-user than a martial master – which was quite interesting. The green-scaled alien bared his teeth in a way Daniel realized as a greeting. "Jedi, this is Master Zerrk."

＜＜A pleasure, Master Jedi,＞＞ the trandoshan said with the typical rasp of his species, ＜＜An honor to meet another Skywalker in-person. It has been many years.＞＞

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "You've met one of my relatives before?"

＜＜Once, during the Uprising.＞＞ The trandoshan made a hissing clicking noise indicating amusement. ＜＜She was quite an impressive warrior.＞＞

If Zerrk was referring to the Kamino Uprising, then it would mean he was extremely old for a trandoshan – they were lucky to reach sixty years. Perhaps his life had been extended somehow, not unbelievable, given his Force-wielder patron.

"Indeed." Daniel smiled. "The pleasure is mine."

The other one was a much smaller human female. Garbed in the encompassing robes of the Quabular Herrga each part of her covered in leather and cloth that was woven in a way that was aesthetically pleasing, but offered notable protection without compromising movement. A lightsaber with a specialized hilt hung on her belt, which Daniel noted with interest was designed for a hand that incorporated an uncommon, though not unheard-of reverse-saber technique. Rare for someone to make reverse Shien the focus of their style.

Interesting.

The woman herself had the traditional Quabular hood pulled down, letting her light brown hair fall to her shoulders, which blew gently in the wind. Her skin was pale, though scarred in places. He could tell she was a warrior, one who was sizing each of them up – Viola in particular.

"This is Genevieve Eclipse. She is the Yatn'qal or 'Blademaster.' " Ludex stroked his beard. "I suppose she is our equivalent to your Battlemaster."

"Grand Master." She inclined her head to him. "Good to meet you in-person."

"That it is," he said.

She looked to Ludex, and the Force-wielder nodded. "It is time to begin." He turned sharply on his heel. "Follow me."

There was an opening a short distance away.

"Prepare yourselves," Ludex warned as they began to enter, "This is a place strong in the Force. There will be visions that manifest. Death clings to this place, it has scarred it forever."

"And what was this place?" Lara asked, looking around.

"This," Ludex said with a small, sad smile, "was the heart of the Je'daii Empire."

---

A Jedi, a Sith, and a Quabular walk into a mountain.

It started like a bad joke, but indeed that was more or less what was actually happening. Granted, the Sith in question were not exactly typical of their kind, but it was still notable. There were very few scenarios where Daniel could have reasonably imagined this happening, yet here they all were.

Yaden was more open to talking with the Quabular, and had drifted into a conversation with Genevieve. Daniel kept close by as they walked so that it didn't become too… heated. The philosophical differences between both orders were quite large, and Yaden in particular took issue with some of the Quabular methods.

"Your trials are dangerous," he said firmly, "I don't think you can dispute that."

"I don't." Genevieve shrugged. "No one will. However, they work without question. Those who pass the trials have never once fallen to the dark side."

"The ones who pass," Yaden pointed out, "And the ones who fail have now been released to the galaxy. They might not have gone down that path had they not been pushed that way."

"And if we just accept everyone, then that ripens ourselves for weakness, perversion, and corruption later," she returned, "If our people are susceptible to falling, then it's imperative this is known now before they enter into our order. If the Jedi had our standards, Anakin Skywalker would have never been able to turn against your Order and bring it down."

"An assumption based on conjecture." Yaden furrowed his brow. "You have no concept of what you unleash in your selfish desire for internal purity, nor an understanding of how power can be utilized. My Jedi have hunted down too many of your failed Quabular for me to believe it is beneficial."

"And I wish it wasn't so." Genevieve ran a hand through her hair. "However, there is only so much we can do, and we cannot compromise on this."

Yaden smiled grimly. "A sacrifice for the greater good?"

Her lips twitched. "A risk we accept, Jedi. You make it sound like we do nothing when they fail. We regularly hunt them down and the vast majority are neutralized."

"And we end up dealing with those who fall through the cracks – of which a fair number seem to slip by you."

Genevieve pursed her lips but did not respond.

"The Jedi is not wrong," Alexander commented, "Following the logic of your trials, I would likely pass, and yet I remain a Sith. Darkness alone is not an indication of how one will wield power."

"You are an exception, Sith." Genevieve glanced pointedly at him. "If you should even be called that. You would not be a Sith under anyone else's definition. Few people who are of the light wield power for their own ends. It has not happened so far – our own philosophy is counter to that."

"But it is not perfect," Alexander noted, "and that is something I feel the Quabular dislike acknowledging."

"Nothing is perfect, Sith," she said, "but this is the best we have found. And as for the supposed risks? Those we are willing to take. In all the millennia we have persisted, not a single fully trained Quabular has fallen or become Sith."

Alexander coughed into his hand and looked away.

Genevieve froze mid-step and turned a glare upon him. "Something you wanna share, Sith?"

"Well… there is Lord de Valrin," he offered somewhat sheepishly, "I'm not sure if that's his real name, but he definitely dresses the part."

"Truly? Have you seen him? His face?"

"Yeah, a couple times."

"Show me," she demanded.

Alexander bowed his head slightly and forced an image to the surface of his thoughts. Daniel saw a rugged and weathered face. Silver hair and stern eyes. A regal figure who carried himself with patrician grace.

Genevieve let out a hiss and a string of curses in Quabular Creole before withdrawing her datapad and making a note. "Thank you, Sith. We had believed Estra was killed on a mission. Now though… we need to rectify this."

Yaden sounded smug as he spoke, "I believe you said something about 'no Quabular ever becoming Sith,' did you not?"

Genevieve scowled at him before turning back to Alexander. "How many Jedi have joined the Sith?"

"Too many to count."

It was Genevieve's turn to be smug.

Daniel listened idly as they descended, not feeling the need to interject in the debate. It wasn't the time, nor was he able to devote enough energy toward saying something that meaningfully contributed. For now, they talked in the background, while he felt the Force grow and shift around them. It was going to start soon. He could sense it.

It did not take long before the first vision began.

As they descended into the 'caves,' Daniel soon realized that they were not in old tunnels that descended deep into the planet, but the ruins of what had once been a grand building. Much of it had crumbled, and faded away, but there remained pieces in the rubble.

And the Force was strong here.

Tangible.

Calling.

And like a waking dream, the area lightened. No longer were there ruins, but architecture of a temple that rivaled their own on Coruscant and across the galaxy. The Force hummed as the vision cemented itself. Architecture which flowed together in such an elegant way, each minor detail a work of art that could not withstand the ravages of time.

No longer were they standing in a mountain, but a temple that rose to the heavens. Sunlight streamed in through stained-glass windows. They stood near the epicenter, a high floor of a much larger building. They were along stairwells that descended further down, and in the center of this tower was a massive sculpture of crystal, depicting a bearded human, who stood proud and defiant.

Commanding.

Ominous.

Enduring.

They were not alone either. There were people milling around, walking and talking together, wearing robes. Though they were not the simple robes that the Jedi wore. These, like the rest of this place, were ornate and detailed without compare. They were beautiful, each one tailored to the individual.

This was truly a glimpse into a simpler time; a golden age of the Jedi which they hadn't even known existed. The Force hummed in harmony, but there was a strange intensity to it – an effect that he had grown to realize was the presence of a Force-wielder. Where the Force sang and reacted to those in the material realm.

And this was as strong as he had ever felt it.

"What is this place?" Osoad asked in awe.

"The Spire of the Sovereign," Ludex answered, taking the lead, "Come with me."

They followed the Force-wielder, marveling at what they saw, felt, and heard. Music played, real music, nothing like what had been on Mortis. There were people who played instruments, some familiar, others not. It was an ongoing symphony, as people joined and left with different instruments, but the song kept playing.

Such an unorthodox use of the Force to coordinate.

He was going to have to make a mental note of that.

Such a shame Lowbacca wasn't here to witness this. He would have found it fascinating. A glimpse into this lost culture and seeming utopia that he was witnessing. As did this not seem to be the pinnacle of civilization? Surely there had to be more to this, and he believed he was looking at a glimpse of what it had been before the Force Wars.

Up the stairs they traveled, and Daniel also felt the Force seem to centralize beyond a door that led to a balcony outside. Ludex moved through the door, and they followed and beheld the source of the power.

It was a giant of a man. A man who would have dwarfed a wookiee. The tall stairways and large architecture suddenly seemed to make sense. The giant was human, or supposedly possessed that outward appearance. It was a man with silver hair that fell to his neck and curled at the ends. A beard covered a face that was stern and battle-worn.

Eyes of gold scanned the horizon, unblinking in their radiance. His armor was silver, ornate, and had pictograms of what Daniel assumed were battles etched onto his armor. Each piece told a story, as did the embroidery on the golden cape which fell from his shoulders. Who was this man? A warrior? A ruler?

"This," Ludex said, almost quietly, "Is Ashla. Sovereign of the Je'daii Warriors. Warden of the Empire. Vanquisher of the Void. Warrior of the Netherrealm, and the Great Subjugator." The ears of Ashla seemed to prick as Ludex spoke, but perhaps it was a coincidence.

Daniel glanced to Ludex. "The 'Great Subjugator'?"

A nod. "The Je'daii Empire came into being through great conflict. Their warriors went from world to world, conquering all they found. Ashla led the charge, hundreds of worlds were crushed under his command. The Empire was built off the back of the blood he spilled – and the death he caused."

Daniel looked beyond Ashla to the horizon – and saw the Tython of the past. It showed this was far from the only massive structure – there were other spires which rose into the sky, and smaller cities below them. The mass forests seemed to be greatly reduced, and mountains were only glimpsed over the horizon.

This seemed like a wholly different planet.

"An empire?" Lara asked, "Did he rule it?"

"No, he did not." Ludex shook his head. "Let us wait for a moment."

The onlookers did so. Ashla seemed to be waiting for someone as well. Suddenly, the air near the Force-wielder seemed to shift, and a new individual stepped out of a brief breakage of reality. From the presence, Daniel knew immediately it was a Force-wielder. Yet even still he was unprepared for what happened next.

It was impossible to describe the woman as anything short of beautiful. While she did not reach the height of Ashla, she would still tower over any mortal. Her garb was an interwoven dress that combined simple and striking colors at once into a single harmonious whole. It almost seemed to flow as she walked, changing colors in the light.

Her skin was a flawless ebony, and raven hair fell from her shoulders, seeming to flow and float as she moved. Her eyes were sapphire and contemplative, and her face was stern, but capable of compassion. There was a tangible, almost glowing aura around her, a halo of authority and power that matched, if not exceeded that of Ashla.

Daniel was reminded of the Daughter, but not even she had been able to compare to this Force-wielder. This woman was the embodiment of command, authority, and power, that made all around her feel insignificant. This was the closest thing to a deity which Daniel had seen, and he felt it was something he would not see again.

"Bogan," Ludex said, his voice also low. He clearly did not want to attract their attention, even here, which spoke to the power of both these Force-wielders. "The Holy Mother, Bearer of the Standard, Progenitor of the Order, Eternal Regent, and Empress of the Je'daii Empire."

He paused. "If Ashla was the reason for the Empire's expansion, she is the reason for the foundation of the Je'daii Order in the first place. In effect, Jedi, she is your founder. Your true founder."

Well, that was a whole lot of history just completely rewritten.

How had they gotten the Force Wars so wrong? How devastating had the conflict been that a wholly manufactured narrative had emerged? He had an unfortunate feeling he was going to find the answer to that sooner than later.

Bogan approached Ashla, and the two began speaking in a language which was old. Daniel knew what it was: Old Tythonian. He could translate the written word, but he'd never heard it spoken before – and even then, he could only pick out a few words here and there. Either this was a sub-language, or the lexicon was even more incomplete than the scholars believed.

As he listened, he noticed something else, something subtle: the words were imbued with the Force. They were not messages of command like with a mind trick, rather, they were soft notes of power that evoked emotions in the listener. Was it simply tonal? Did it convey emphasis on certain syllables? Was this what language was like for those who existed so intimately alongside the Force?

If so, it made more sense why the language was so difficult to translate.

Yet he could easily see and sense the tension between the two of them. Ashla seemed to hold a respect for the Empress, but there was clear confrontation there.

"I don't suppose you know what they are saying?" Daniel asked Ludex.

"Not the exact words, no," Ludex admitted, "However, I have learned enough. Both Ashla and Bogan had… different visions for the Empire. Ashla believed that a centralized authority needed to be maintained. One ruled and enforced by the Je'daii Order."

"And Bogan?"

"To devolve the Order into different imperial sectors," Ludex said with some amusement, "Ones still ruled by Je'daii, and answering to the Empire, but she believed that experimenting with decentralization was necessary – she feared resentment and rebellion. There was a schism growing, even before, though she misread the causes."

"So this was what the Force Wars were about?" Osoad asked in fascination, "Not the first conflict between Light and Dark, but merely differences in imperial rule?"

"Not exactly." Ludex's brow furrowed. "It was… complicated. Your histories are not completely wrong – Ashla believed the dark side was tainted, and wanted to enforce purity within the Order. While I would imagine your Jedi would question his commitment to this belief, he nonetheless was a staunch advocate for curtailing the usage of the darkness."

"And Bogan was the opposite."

"Ironically, she agreed with him." Ludex smiled without humor. "However, unlike him, she was more… let us say, open-minded. While personally skeptical, she encouraged experimentation among her peers. If the darkness had a use, she would not discourage that. This was the dominant cultural debate at the time – that, and what role the Je'daii should play in the Empire."

"And this grew, and grew," Daniel murmured as the conversation between the Force-wielders grew sharper, even if he couldn't understand them, "until it culminated in the Great Schism."

"Indeed," Ludex confirmed, "And unleashed devastation upon the galaxy that has not been seen since. There is a reason that your own histories are so inaccurate. Bear witness, Jedi, for the monstrosity that was the Force Wars."

And at his words, the scene seemed to shift.

And he heard the Force scream.

---

The Force was always something that was constant. It was enduring. It flowed throughout all life and living things. Planets, people, the galaxy itself was one with the Force, and only a few exceptions defied this rule. Even in its absence, there was a certain stability – it did not feel like things had broken.

Only that they were… lesser.

Incomplete.

Hollow.

Even in the presence of the Force-wielders, he had merely felt the Force concentrate; centralize in certain individuals who were avatars of the Force itself. The power they held to warp and change what was understood about this great power. They made the Force greater, they portrayed what its true power was.

The power over the material realm. Reality itself.

He had wondered what it would be like should so many beings of power engage in war. True war.

Now…

Now he had his answer.

They stood on a mountain, one which overlooked a massive battle raging below. He saw thousands upon thousands of soldiers fighting, equipped with weapons that betrayed their archaic age, yet nonetheless worked. The armor they wore was as beautifully crafted as all of their other attire, and many of them even carried lightsabers.

There were no vehicles. There was no artillery. There were almost no staples of modern war except for the legions of mortal soldiers, and the Force-users and Force-wielders who commanded them. Sending them to charge, fight, and die.

And as he watched, he became acutely aware of the greatest element to all of this. This screaming, overwhelming effect that cut through each of them like a flaming blade.

The Force was broken.

It was a spiritual hurricane; a maelstrom of confusion, disharmony, and strife. It was the Force unable to determine what it was, and what it was supposed to be. It was a paper whose writing was being erased and rewritten over and over again, as writers fought over what it was supposed to be.

Lightning storms emanated from the void and the hands of Force-wielders. The earth reshaped itself under the poor soldiers' feet – killing or swallowing them up – as the world was remade in the image of the wielders… until it stopped as the rules were once more rewritten. Battalions were petrified with a wave of one hand, and others were reduced to an organic slurry.

Death, life, it was inconsequential to the gods who waged war on this battleground.

He knew he could not concentrate for long, the shifts and changes were enough to make him nauseous, as his own body seemed to reject this fragile state the Force was in. The others except Ludex and Vodal looked similarly, it was enough to make anyone who could sense the Force ill.

Yet he focused on what he was witnessing. It was a battle for one of the Tythonian cities, he could tell that much. He couldn't make out which side was which – but both were causing equal destruction, and remaking the physical world around them. The only focus of the defenders seemed to be protecting the city.

Everything else was on the table.

He looked to the sky and froze.

The sky seemed broken – as if it was shattered or cracked. A dark blue light seemed to cover the planet, as if the seams between realities were allowed to seep through. He didn't know what it could be, unless…

He closed his eyes, and reached out. A brief probe, even through the vision, appeared to reveal the horrific truth. The Netherrealm had been breached. The spirits could be returned to reality, or could escape on their own. Such a phenomena had only been theorized, and deemed to be impossible.

Many simply argued that it would require the Force itself to be broken before such a thing could happen.

As it turned out, they seemed to have been right.

He watched the warriors below them fight, he saw one group overrun one position, and subdue the Force-wielder that had been defending it. He saw the Je'daii seem to restrain, and then begin some kind of ritual. He saw the spirits of who he presumed were the deceased be summoned – and then erased.

Gone.

Purged.

Ludex noticed his fixation. "Death is not the end, Skywalker. Not for the Force-wielders. Killing the physical body was only a temporary ailment for many of them."

Daniel nodded. "So they couldn't just kill the body, but the spirit as well."

"Precisely," Ludex said grimly, "You understand the horror of such warfare. Necessary, but horrific. The unmaking of what the Force has made us, to deny the enemy mind and experience. There is a reason that there are no spirits who remain from the Force Wars. It is because they were purged, person by person. No one left to explain. No one left to recount the truth."

He just nodded numbly. "This was on every world?"

"Every one that was part of the Je'daii Empire."

Alexander noticed something, and nodded to the side. "Look."

On the mountain they stood, there was a new army that had appeared, which had marched across the craggy edifice. An army that was in the armor of the defenders, shining and clean; yet unblemished from the war. Reinforcements, it seemed, and they were led by one of the Force-wielders, easy to spot due to their stature.

This one a woman, a warrior, with silver hair and pale flawless skin. She was regal in a way, sharp and commanding. Her irises were ringed with bronze, and power – unlike any he felt even here – emanated from her; near that of the ruling Force-wielders of Ashla and Bogan. Immediately, he felt the Force almost stabilize as she reached out, assisted by several other Force-wielders who were garbed in battle-robes.

She extended one hand over the battlefield, and it was then that the Force began to once more shift – stabilize as the war for control of the Force was decided. The rules for now were being solidified, and the attacking army was on the verge of the Force being rendered impotent for them.

The woman shouted something; a roar that echoed across the battlefield, and was answered by cheers from the army around her. With another hand, she withdrew a long lightsaber hilt, as beautifully designed as the rest of the attire of these people. From the emitter sprung a bronze blade – a very familiar one.

"Is that…?" he began.

"The Heart of the Guardian," Ludex confirmed, "And that is Lasira, Voice of the Empire, High Councilor of the Je'daii, and Lord of the Bright Legions. Ashla's second-in-command. One of the few Force-wielders to carry a weapon at all."

She leapt into the air, hovering effortlessly, her blade angled down. A command was issued, and the army charged forward, prepared to rout the attackers now that the battlefield advantage had been claimed – and he knew they would show them no mercy. Such could not be afforded.

As he watched, he suddenly saw that Lasira was looking at them. Appraising. Judging.

And came to a decision.

He thought about speaking, before she said a sentence he couldn't understand, and flicked a hand.

Abruptly, the vision ended.

---

The tunnels and caves of Tython descended far deeper than Daniel had ever thought they would. Being thrown out of the visions and back into reality had been disconcerting, though thankfully they weren't completely lost, or at least Ludex knew where they were.

Deeper down, there were better remnants of the architecture of the Je'daii. Only pieces, mostly, but they were at least somewhat intact, if dusty, dirty, and damaged to various degrees. Daniel wondered just how much was left that hadn't been uncovered. It hadn't occurred to them to check the rest of the planet outside of the historic sites of the Je'daii Order.

An oversight, clearly.

As they continued descending, muted discussion between them continued, none of them really willing to raise their voices. It seemed irregular, somehow, like they shouldn't do that. Like there was an unwillingness to disturb the ghosts left behind – even if such ghosts had been excised long ago.

And they could all feel something growing as they descended. As they moved deeper into the mountain ruins.

The air had become colder. No, 'cold' was the wrong word, it was better described as a void. Emptiness. As if everything was being leeched out of the air. Heat, light, color, it was a growing feeling of deadness. The dark side was growing stronger, but there was something more intrinsically wrong with what they approached.

He'd never seen a Thought Bomb in-person before, and only had a few references to it. Yet each one had been… disturbing. Poignant. And they were walking toward one which was powerful enough to contain multiple Force-wielders. He expected everything he'd anticipated to be… amplified as a result.

A theory that was turning out to be accurate.

"Buchic will find this fascinating," Pon commented softly as they walked down the crumbling steps, "Imagine how much of the planet we have just… overlooked. The secrets of the Je'daii here… I did not realize they were so advanced."

"None of us did." Daniel nodded. "They were not what we thought they were."

"To have our roots in such an organization." Pon shook his head. "An Empire. So different from what we believed. And the Sith as well. To think our conflict was born from something we did not fully understand."

"I admit there is some irony in the Je'daii once being authoritarian rulers," Alexander added, walking up to them, "Though the schism between the light and dark would happen eventually. Both are simply too incompatible."

"Likely," Daniel agreed, "Though for different reasons than the contemporary Jedi and Sith would have given."

They continued walking, and the cold deadness became more apparent. "Alexander, I do not suppose you've encountered a Thought Bomb before?"

"In-person? No." Alexander shook his head. "It is a technique known to some of the Sith Masters. It is difficult, and I only have a basic understanding of the mechanics. It is also extremely dangerous, as it requires the creator to remain nearby. You can only survive if you complete the ritual which protects you."

He shook his head. "That is the time-consuming part of the ritual from my studies. The creation of the Thought Bomb is not difficult, what takes time is protecting oneself and expanding the size. The Thought Bomb only consumes equivalent to its power. A weak Thought Bomb will only kill weak Jedi."

"Oh?" Pon turned his head, interested. "Curious. I had believed Thought Bombs killed whomever they came in contact with, within their radius."

"As did I, but a myth as it turns out, and one I'm not surprised most believe since the technique is so rare," Alexander explained, "The experience is unpleasant – but survivable. Lord Kaan drew upon all of the Sith to create the Thought Bomb, which was more than enough to entrap the Jedi it ravaged." He looked further down into the depths. "I'm both curious and repelled to see what one created by a Force-wielder looks like."

Daniel nodded. "I wonder if it was the first one."

"Possibly. Even the Sith don't know who developed the technique."

The deadness turned to leeching. He actually had to draw upon the Force to remain invigorated, otherwise he felt like he would wish to take a nap, and never wake up. The grays of the stone seemed even blander, and the colors around them were faded.

"We are close," Ludex said, "Stand firm, Jedi. Keep your focus. And whatever you do – do not touch the object."

"Good advice," Daniel grunted, "Not that any of us were going to do that anyway." He glanced backward toward the group. "I hope."

"As do I." Ludex glanced up. "Be on guard, Jedi, the Force has something yet to show us."

And as they walked, the world shifted again.

---

The world around them came into focus. It was dimly lit but they could see the canvas walls of a bivouac writhing from the wind on the other side. There was an enormous silken futon in the corner covered in embroidered pillows. The floor was carpeted and lanterns hung from the ceiling – what they assumed was flame appeared to be captured photons on closer inspection. Such amazing power put to such mundane purposes. Daniel shivered anew.

They glanced around and found Bogan sitting at a wooden desk, reviewing texts written in Old Tythonian. She was different from before.

She wore no gowns or robes, but armor hewn from obsidian. It retained the ornate detailing of the Je'daii, but the patterns and symbology seemed… harsher. The detailing was done in a deeper black, making it nearly impossible to make out, but just enough to show that something was off. It seemed more aggressive, more angular, more… angry.

The Empress set down the text and leaned back in her chair, yawning and stretching in a way that seemed almost human. It was strange, really, did Force-wielders even need sleep? She rose from her chair and leaned on her desk, staring intently at a map of the galaxy with weary eyes, one which focused on the Core Worlds it seemed.

This continued unabated for several minutes until abruptly and without warning, all sound ceased. The canvas walls froze in mid-flap and the oscillations of the photon lamps ground to a halt. Bogan herself spun around in alarm, lightning in the palm of her hand as yellow eyes frantically searched for the source of the disturbance.

Her eyes fell upon their group and narrowed. Daniel felt like an insect under a microscope as the yellow irises pinned him in place – seemingly unable to move himself. Her gaze shifted to Ludex, and she appeared to know who – or what – he was. She hissed something at them, perhaps blaming the onlookers for freezing time around them. She appeared to move to eject them from the vision when something shifted behind her – the light bending and warping as it would around a black hole, shadows slithering along the edges.

Bogan froze and turned her wide eyes upon the disturbance. Unexpectedly, she trembled, then steeled herself and readied her Force lightning anew. Shouting a challenge to the disturbance as the energy danced from fingertip to fingertip.

Ludex stroked his long beard, not alarmed by the odd display in front of them. "She's demanding to know who they are. What they are."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, frowning. "She's communicating with bent light?"

"No, Jedi… she is not."

Bogan hurled her lightning-engulfed hand toward the disturbance. But as she did, there was heard a Song in the silence. A very, very familiar Song. A Song which even seemed more enrapturing, complex, and unique than what the sharu had conducted. And it was only a single Note. The energy dissipated on her fingertips. She was shocked and confused and frightened.

He glanced at Vodal, who was watching in pure fascination.

Bogan tried again, using flames instead of lightning, but they too were snuffed out by the Music. Music which almost seemed in parts condescending and mocking, each Note easily countering the power she brought to bear. The realization of what she was facing seemed to dawn on her, and she screamed for help or so it seemed but no one came – perhaps they were frozen in time as well. She tried a third time, now hurling shards of ice like bullets but each vaporized alongside a Tune shortly after release.

And then there was nothing but the Song.

Bogan's titanic presence ceased.

Power – once overwhelming – simply… gone.

Its absence was more potent than when the Ones had been humiliated on Mortis. Ludex himself grimaced at the spectacle.

As they watched, this leviathan in the Force was rendered impotent to their senses.

The Empress screamed at the disturbance, at her newfound helplessness, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. There was no response that they could hear, but the shock on her face told of the answer she received.

"She demanded to know what they had done," Ludex translated, "She demanded again to know what they were. Without the Force… what is a Force-wielder?"

'What are we?' was left unspoken.

Bogan cried as the exhaustion of everything she'd experienced flooded her body. No longer would the Force keep it at bay. She was merely mortal now.

She choked out something – a plea for mercy, perhaps? Ludex did not translate it for them, but the message was clear enough. The disturbance must have taken pity upon her because a single Note sounded, and her connection to the Force returned in full and crashed upon their senses like a tsunami. She wiped away her tears and stood – her posture was proud but subdued. It was startling to see one such as she so chastened.

She spoke again, the tone questioning.

Ludex translated, "She asked what it wants from her."

In the silence, Bogan remained confused but seemed hopeful in whatever the answer was. She asked another question.

"She asked if this ritual can truly defeat her enemies."

Bogan said something else, her posture submissive and grateful as the disturbance disappeared.

"She said thank you… Elder One."

The vision came to an end before anyone could react.

---

When the group came to, there was a frantic energy amongst some of them – most especially Daniel and Pon.

"This is why you asked us about the Elder One, isn't it? You saw this vision," Pon asked.

"It is not the only vision where I have encountered this entity, but yes. I have little concept as to what it truly is or even looks like."

"You mean under the bent light?"

"I mean that I don't believe the bending is this being," Ludex corrected, "Not a single sound is heard from it, and no physical description is possible. I believe it exists outside the Force and cannot be seen in a vision as such. What we see instead is the effect of its presence on space-time."

Daniel shook his head. "Troubling."

Keaxia spoke after a few minutes, "The ritual this Elder One offered, it was the Thought Bomb, wasn't it?"

"It was. The Sith have long wondered about the origins of the ritual, though I doubt many would suspect the truth." Ludex stroked his beard once more. "The Elder One came to her in a time of great hardship and offered her the one thing she needed. She leapt at the opportunity… a fatal decision as it would turn out."

"Mm," Keaxia hummed, "It reminds me of Darth Bane's machinations against the Brotherhood. Do you concur, Alex?"

"I do. If so… hmm." Alexander ran his hand through his hair. "It makes me wonder if it was intentional. If the Elder One saw the Force-wielders as a threat. What better way to remove most of them from the galaxy than giving one side such a destructive tool?"

Ludex nodded. "I happen to agree. If my kind truly are a threat, and this entity wishes to remake the galaxy, then it behooves us to complete our task and create more who can stand against it."

Daniel wasn't so sure. Considering how the most powerful entity he'd ever felt had been rendered harmless with no tangible threat to the individual causing it, he wasn't sure that was the correct reading. At the same time… he wasn't certain why else the ritual would be given; not yet, anyway.

Viola seemed to feel the same way. "Will it be enough? You saw what happened to Bogan, or even what happened to you and your children against the sharu," she opined, her tone slightly worried.

There was a pause. "I do not know," Ludex admitted, "All I know is that the Force-wielders were destroyed by the Elder One's machinations, so there must be some threat in our existence. The differences between then and now are that we are aware of this Elder One – and knowledge such as this is power of its own."

Vodal had been silent since leaving the vision, content to pace back-and-forth in his own little world. "So much power in the Song…" he intoned to himself, "No mortal can stand against a Force-wielder, and no Force-Wielder can stand against the Song…"

Daniel watched the ancient sith pureblood, worried he might be right. It made him uncomfortable. "How much further, Ludex?"

"Not far," said the Force-wielder as he beckoned them to follow.

It wasn't long before the Force seized them once more in a vision.

---

The place they appeared in was in one of the spires, but it was one within which battle had taken place. The delicate and ornate architecture was blackened, broken, and dirty with smoke, shrapnel, and other elements. Bodies were strewn across the room, and the presence of Force-wielders was overwhelming.

Particularly one.

Empress Bogan stood a short distance away, holding by the throat one of the Je'daii defenders of this place. He kicked and feebly tried to fight back, but was unable to do so in her iron grip. He screamed once, a scream that released the layered pain as a soul was torn asunder. The lifeless corpse she let drop to the ground.

She wore her obsidian armor and those in her cohort dressed similarly, though only hers was colored like the void. Her Je'daii wore darker colors, but they were browns and grays. Not all wore armor either, some wore protected robes. A few carried lightsabers, but few were the giants who embodied the Force-wielders.

One of them walked up to her, and exchanged a few words. She answered, nodding once as they moved further in. All of those accompanying her followed.

"They are not supposed to be here," Ludex said, watching them closely, "They were pushed from Tython years ago. They are losing the war. This is their last chance."

Daniel eyed them, not liking the implication. "Their last chance to do what?"

Ludex raised an eyebrow. "Doing the only thing that matters: killing Ashla."

They followed the Empress into a large chamber, one which had already been cleared out. The few living Je'daii were in the process of being killed, as Bogan began instructing her followers. There was no rushing or tripping over her words, but from her tone, Daniel could tell she was acting on borrowed time.

She clasped her hands together, and the Force shifted from what it was. It seemed to become… sharper, harder than it had been before. He didn't know exactly what Bogan was doing, but as she rewrote the Force, her disciples were arranging themselves in a circle – all Force-wielders he noticed.

One of the Force-wielders gave instructions to one of the mortal followers, who yelled something and the remainder of the mortal Je'daii moved back up the spire. One of the Force-wielders took out a lightsaber – the only one who carried a weapon, Daniel saw. The man ignited it, and a faint, almost transparent cyan blade emerged.

It was almost soft, almost comforting in the chaos around them. Daniel found his eyes drawn to the unique blade, which was an unexpected font of light and stability. There was something familiar about it—

Ah, Alana wielded that blade in my vision of her. Interesting.

The Force-wielder who carried it led Bogan's Je'daii out toward a final battle.

"To buy them time," Ludex noted.

"Do they stand a chance?" Daniel felt he knew the answer.

A shake of the head. "No."

The Force was starting to gather and form in a more tangible way. It was almost hot in its intensity, and one by one, the Force-wielders began chanting. It was low, their voices starting off as whispers, speaking in a language even older than what they had been speaking. Their hands were intertwined with each other.

No, they weren't chanting.

They were singing.

And the room began to darken.

Daniel felt something. A spear of power far above. An ethereal roar that reverberated through the Force itself. Someone or something wholly different to the entities before him. He did not need to look to Ludex for confirmation that Ashla's counterattack had begun, and Bogan's plan was running out of time.

The Empress appeared to realize it as well, and ceased what she had been doing, and rapidly moved to the head of the circle, and joined in the song as the localized Force began to warp beyond all recognition.

Then the room began to chill.

This was not the same Song that he had heard before – but it was clearly derived from it. It was a twisted, corrupted perversion of something which had sounded perfect and beautiful. It was not all-encompassing as the Song was, yet it seemed to penetrate deeper than the Force could on its own.

And the dark side pierced everything. It was potent, pure, and unrefined. It was the presence of evil and corruption itself, which tainted and poisoned everything it touched. He had never felt it so raw before, not in any of his visions, nothing even remotely like this. Immaterial he might be, but that did not protect him from the weakness and nausea that overcame him. None of the others were faring much better, though curiously, Alexander and Keaxia seemed to be resilient.

Perhaps it made sense. They were around the darkness more frequently.

And in the center of the circle, something began forming. It started small, almost the size of a small bead. It was an orb of pure blackness – the roiling power of the dark side. The tempo of the song increased, and more and more energy gathered and the orb began to grow, and with it, the presence of the dark side.

It was so powerful it forced Daniel to take several steps back, even through the vision the potency of this thing was overwhelming, and he could only imagine the sheer devastation it would wreak were he there in-person. Even now he had to actively protect himself from its worst effects.

The orb soon swelled to be larger than any one of the Force-wielders, the Empress included. He could see the effect it was having on them; they were paler, sweat fell from their skin despite the chilled air. They looked weak, the first time he had really seen it from a Force-wielder.

The black orb now had something else seeming to grow around it. An obsidian shell, one which almost reflected the light off of it, like a forbidden pearl. Shaped less like an orb now, and more like an egg with the head pointed toward the ground. Just waiting to be dropped.

It was almost complete; he was sure of it.

And then the wall exploded.

Inside stormed Ashla and his own soldiers. So overwhelming had the dark side been that he hadn't even sensed the other Force-wielder's arrival. Ashla beheld the ritual, and his face, briefly so triumphant and prepared, gave way to confusion, then concern, and then horror.

Bogan, with exhaustion on her face, saw Ashla, and smiled. There was a gleam of triumph in her yellow-rimmed eyes. Triumph that Ashla saw, and realized what was going to happen.

He tried one time to gather his power, and was able to shout one word.

Wait!

Bogan clapped her hands once, and the Thought Bomb fell.

Oblivion followed.

---

Even with the vision ended, Daniel felt that it would be some time before they all felt normal again. Even simply experiencing it through the vision, the execution of the Thought Bomb still felt like it had left a void in him; a cut of the dark side. It spoke to the potency of such a technique, the results of which they stood before.

The ruins of the spire the Thought Bomb had been created in were almost completely gone, and had Daniel not just witnessed the vision, he would have believed this to just be a cave. A very large cave, but a cave nonetheless. Now though, they had reached the source of the coldness. The Thought Bomb hovered before them.

It was massive, far more so than he would have expected. The glossy egg-like orb stretched several dozen meters toward the air, with a width that easily took up a good third of the room. There was a slight violet aura to the Thought Bomb, one which contrasted with the deep void that seemed to consume all light.

"It's big," Daniel finally said to Ludex, his breath fogging in the cold air, "Very big."

"Indeed." Ludex nodded as the group spread out, keeping their distance as they appraised the Thought Bomb. "The size was necessary for Bogan to succeed."

"And how many did it kill?" Daniel asked, looking up at the orb.

"Everyone, Jedi," Ludex said, "Every single Force-user on Tython was killed that day, along with every Force-wielder in what was once the Je'daii Empire."

"Every Force-wielder?" Daniel cocked his head. "Surely there were those who did not go to Tython, at least on Ashla's side."

"The Force Wars took place over a decade," Ludex explained, "The devastation you witnessed was a taste of what was taking place all over the Core Worlds. Each side was being whittled down, and by the end, only a handful of the Je'daii Force-wielders were left alive. Bogan knew she would need every one she could, and had no choice but to bring them with her."

"And Ashla knew if he didn't do similarly, she could win."

"Exactly," Ludex confirmed, "This was to be the final battle. Both of them knew it. Ashla erred, however. He believed that Bogan intended to fight. In reality, she simply intended to kill him. Desperation, perhaps, but it resulted in the definitive end of the conflict. Or such took place soon after."

Daniel nodded. "What happened afterward?"

"After?" Ludex rubbed his chin. "Ashla's Je'daii won the conflict. What few of Bogan's followers remained fled into the Unknown Regions, beyond the territory of the old Empire. These followers would one day find their way to Korriban, and become the first Sith Lords. Bogan is the progenitor of the Sith, though not in the way you believed. The Je'daii…"

A pause. "The Force Wars scarred the Je'daii, Skywalker. It traumatized every planet in the Empire, and the Je'daii were but a handful now. Their leaders were dead, the Force-wielders were dead, and billions had perished in a conflict for an Empire that was now shattered. What followed was the dissolution of the Empire."

"They gave it up?"

"Every planet," Ludex said, "Each was turned over to a civilian administration. The Je'daii did not believe they deserved to rule after what they had done, and so they left – and returned to Tython. It forced a self-examination, as the Je'daii vowed that they would not rule again, and would seek peace and stability. They would no longer indulge in vain pursuits, imperialism, or rule, but a simple life where they would follow the will of the light."

Ludex motioned around. "One reason you have not found many remains of the true Je'daii Empire is because their successors actively destroyed it. No longer did they live in their grand spires, but in simple, humble temples. No more were grandiose sculptures and art pieces of warriors and heroes made, but simple statues of stone commemorating mediators and humble Masters. No more did they wear ornate garments of many colors, but instead simple robes of browns and tans. By the time they made contact with the newly-formed Republic, they were the Jedi Order. The legacy of the Je'daii Empire long-since buried."

"A shame," Daniel said quietly, "I can understand why it was done though. The level of destruction…" He shook his head. "Difficult to comprehend, even from the glimpses I have seen."

"Look well, Jedi." Ludex met his eyes. "For that is now what threatens the galaxy. Calamity befalls us, and we must prepare for the consequences of a war which will not simply affect the Core, but the galaxy as a whole."

"Unfortunate, but I've seen enough to agree." Daniel nodded once. "Now – we must break the Thought Bomb. I trust you know how?"

"Yes, normally it would be trivial." Ludex moved closer to the orb. "But this one was created by a Force-wielder, and has its origins in the Song. It is more intricate and dangerous than the one created by Lord Kaan. It will require similar deftness. I need not your skill, Jedi. Only your power."

"Then we should begin."

As Ludex gathered and arranged the group in preparation for the ritual, Daniel tentatively reached out to the Thought Bomb itself, and nearly immediately recoiled. It was one thing to read about the suffering described by those trapped in the Thought Bomb, but another to taste it himself. It was nothing but anguish, nothingness, and horror.

The only comfort Daniel could derive was that none of the minds within were cognizant enough to realize what they were enduring. They screamed because they knew nothing else, they felt pain out of instinct. It was their reality; all alternatives and possibilities had been stripped away long ago.

Even if they no longer had minds to be thankful, Daniel was glad they would be freed.

"Focus your minds, and prepare yourselves," Ludex said, as he took his position, "Do not resist or fear – but act upon my command."

Daniel felt the Force-wielder draw upon his power, and felt it grow exponentially with each second. The presence and mind grew overwhelming, as it encapsulated each of their own lesser minds, they were all connected in this ritual, one which would only end once the object before them had been destroyed.

And as Daniel observed in his half-aware state, he felt what Ludex was doing. It was imperceptible, and even he wasn't fully certain what was happening, but it appeared that Ludex was going over the Thought Bomb, how it had been made, the pieces of the Force which made it work together.

For weaknesses. To reverse-engineer it. Whatever was needed to understand how to destroy it safely. Daniel did not know what would happen if the Thought Bomb was destroyed incorrectly, but he was certain he didn't want to find out – especially when its creator had been a Force-wielder.

Now.

He had found something. He knew what to do, and their power was required. On instinct, Daniel lifted his right arm toward the Thought Bomb, a motion echoed by the others around him. The Force flowed through him, a whirlpool that was to crash upon this tainted artifact.

The Thought Bomb seemed to shimmer more than it had.

Minute, almost invisible crystalline lines spiderwebbed along its surface. Little cracks as the Force was applied against it. Cracks which began to spread; began to grow; began to become larger. Daniel grew excited upon seeing it. Soon.

The crystalline lines continued; they grew.

One last push.

Just one more.

And with a summoning of overpowering will, Ludex pressed against every single crack and weakness of the Thought Bomb at once, and the artifact of evil gave way.

With a deafening scream, the Thought Bomb shattered.

---

Paala Tocrum took a drag from a cigarette as he stood on the balcony overlooking the Tythonian Jedi Temple.

It was not a real cigarette of course, the idea that he would defile his pristine body with such toxins was laughable. Nonetheless, it behooved him to keep up with the trends of high society, and the latest fad was social smoking. It was impolite to defile the air with smoke of course, so the reasonable alternative was simply using electronic substitutes.

Sure, it was little more than flavored steam, but it dissipated into the air with no ill effects, and one had the privilege of smoking without any of the side-effects. Of course, the electronic smoker cost a small fortune, as few companies made such niche products (at least ones which worked), but hardly a burden to a Councilor of the Jedi Order.

Truthfully, Tocrum had to admit that he could see how this fad had caught on. There was something quite dramatic and artful about holding a cigarette between one's figures as they discussed the topics of the galaxy, as civilized people did. It added an air of theatre around each conversation, and if there was one thing he enjoyed, it was theatre.

He liked it enough to do so in private, far away from the bustling dinner parties in the 500 Republica. Although, he would soon be heading back to Coruscant. Tython was a tranquil planet, but dreadfully boring. Nothing but mentally challenged Padawans, air-headed pacifists, and useless historians.

But then again, that wasn't the purpose of the Sphere of Conciliation and Reflection. He had been able to turn it, refine it, into something useful in this era of the Order. And that was what dominated his days here. It was not easy, managing the web of alliances, blackmail, factions, and schemes being played across the Order and the Alliance at large.

He found himself, as always, in a precarious position. He had the power to bring down so many powerful people, yet this also restrained him. After all, push too hard, and people had nothing to lose. Be too soft, and they would call his bluff. So many people believed that all one needed to control the galaxy was blackmail, and they would dance to your tune.

It was, sadly, more complicated than that.

There was an art to this, a subtlety that people in this business either realized early on, or they didn't, and one day found out the hard way. Having the power to bring down the powerful didn't always mean it was a good idea to. There was a balancing game; of internal alliances, public perception, and narrative control.

All of which he excelled at.

Yet he was far beyond the petty mid-level games of politics. Such were trivial and boring. No, no, his ambitions were far greater. His were at the highest levels of the Jedi Order, as well as that of the Senate. The latter was a secondary focus, and frankly, he'd have to devote a good bit of energy if he wanted to accomplish anything.

The Zann Consortium was a worthy rival. What Tyrell had been able to accomplish with his organization was nothing short of impressive. One day he'd meet the man, but for now, it was best to not consort with individuals still seen as criminals.

He was a Jedi after all. He had an image to keep up.

An image of a friendly family man who helped the less fortunate, ran the Sphere that took care of the most vulnerable, a loving husband and father, and distinguished member of the Jedi Council. He did so love playing the role, even if it sometimes hindered his ambitions.

It would pay off one day. He knew it would.

For now, though—

Whatever thought that started forming was abruptly cut off as a cold surge of power slammed into him out of nowhere. It was a cold chill of nothing that took his breath away, and were he any weaker, he would have collapsed to the ground. As it was, he was forced to lean on the balcony, and watched with mild annoyance as the cigarette slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground far below.

What in the name of the Force?

He blinked rapidly, utterly confused and immediately concerned. His lightsaber was in his hand as he quickly shifted to a battle state, preparing for the possibility that they were going to come under attack. He waited some more minutes, but nothing else happened. He could hear the Temple growing more active below him, and he needed some answers about what was happening.

That was not normal.

Buchic, it was probably Buchic who had caused this. Him and his inane experiments and scouting in the many underground tunnels and ruins. Wouldn't it be something if the furball had accidentally unleashed an unholy abomination on Tython. That was the last thing he needed right now.

With one hand he pulled out his holocommunicator and furiously typed in the code. The image of the talz Jedi researcher appeared. ＜＜Councilor Tocrum, I presume you also felt it.＞＞

"Yes, I felt it." Tocrum didn't bother to hide his annoyance. "I hope that this wasn't the result of your people drilling into something they shouldn't."

The talz, surprisingly, shook his head. ＜＜It is not, Councilor. My teams have not been in the tunnels for several days. As per protocol, we always inform you prior to making any further expeditions. Whatever the source of this disturbance is, it was not caused by us.＞＞

Ah, right. He remembered that the talz's team was technically supposed to inform them of any activities on the planet, as he was the nominal overseer. Generally, he just ignored all of Buchic's messages. He sincerely had no time or energy to deal with a wild bantha chase for technology that was broken, or ruins that interested no one but old historians.

Still, this raised many more questions than answers. "Odd." Tocrum frowned. "This couldn't have come out of nowhere."

＜＜I agree.＞＞ Buchic nodded. ＜＜If you wish, I can mobilize my teams to try and locate the source of this… disturbance. I am not certain we will be successful, but we will make the effort.＞＞

"Yes, yes, a good idea." Tocrum paused. "I'll have some of my own people accompany you. Every Jedi on this world felt it, I'll need to manage things here. I'll be in touch shortly."

＜＜Of course, Councilor.＞＞

Tocrum ended the call, musing on what to do next. This was highly atypical, and there was a new mystery here. And also potentially a way to move this to his advantage. It wouldn't even be that difficult, but impressions made all the difference.

Normally, the right thing to do here would be to inform Daniel Skywalker, the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, about something like this. However, he didn't like Skywalker, and more importantly, he had no idea where Skywalker even was right now. The Grand Master had been acting quite reclusively these past months, which suited him fine, as the less he dealt with him, the better.

Still, Skywalker retained influence, and in the growing schisms in the Order, it was justifiable to keep him happy, or at least informed. At the same time, he could see where the winds were blowing, and the tides were shifting, and he was quite certain that no matter where they landed, they were not with Skywalker.

And there was someone who would… appreciate being informed before anyone else. A man who would appreciate the gesture, and recognize it for what it was. Even if it didn't work out, it was always good to control the impression of oneself in the minds of others. With a rapid sequence of digits, he made the call.

A special code. One only used in matters of extreme urgency. And as he'd hoped, the form of Master Undien appeared. "Tocrum, what is it? I'm in the middle of an important meeting."

Tocrum smiled. "A pleasure to see you too, Councilor. I think you're going to find what I have to say very interesting…"

---

The Thought Bomb was no more.

As it had shattered, it had disintegrated into nothing. Yet the effects of its absence were instinctively felt from the moment it had broken. The chill and void of the dark side was gone, and Daniel took a breath of air which was no longer tainted with darkness. Indeed, he felt significantly better, especially now that such a powerful artifact of the dark side was destroyed.

The shattering of the Thought Bomb had not been quiet though. It had been strong enough to bring him to his knees by the sheer amount of power that had been projected, and every Jedi on Tython would feel it. They wouldn't know what it was, but they would feel it. He was confident they wouldn't find the source, but there would be questions.

Tocrum was on Tython right now. For once, Daniel hoped that he would do the politically advantageous thing and not contact him. Tocrum was no doubt anticipating his fall, and this was a prime opportunity to enshrine himself in Undien's good graces. Or keep it to himself. Or share with another ally.

He supposed he'd find out soon enough.

The atmosphere of the chamber was different now; charged in a way it hadn't been before. Daniel became aware of… not quite the presence of minds, but strong embodiments of thoughts and memories. No singular personalities remained, as had been warned, but the remnants of the spirits of those the Thought Bomb had consumed were present.

They lingered. Seeming to wait, perhaps in thankfulness.

Or perhaps they did so because of the Force-wielder present. They seemed to concentrate around Ludex, almost waiting; a natural gravitation to the master of the Force here. The Force-wielder's eyes were bright as he beheld the remains of the spirits around him. His mind seemed distant, or perhaps focused on what came next.

"So," Pon said in a low voice, "It's done."

"Indeed." Daniel nodded. "It is done."

"And now comes the next piece," Yaden said, walking up while side-eyeing Ludex, "This ritual of binding these spirits… we should consider it carefully."

"In what way?" Daniel asked, "We agreed this was necessary."

"I agree, but for lack of a better word, we should not rely on it." Yaden looked at Daniel. "If Ludex leaves behind a vulnerability, an exploit in this ritual, we cannot afford to have all of us compromised by it."

"Yes, I know." Daniel crossed his arms. "That's why we agreed you wouldn't take part. Our contingency."

"I did." Yaden nodded once. "However, I shouldn't be the contingency, Daniel. That should be you. I'll undergo it, but you are our leader. You know where to take the Order better than I do, and that should not be under threat of compromise. Me and Pon will accept this risk."

Daniel was silent for a moment. He didn't fully disagree with the assessment, and while he personally judged the risk as fairly low, he certainly hadn't disputed that Ludex had his own agenda. Or even if he did, what could be done to stop it. He had to admit, he did wonder what it would be like to have the power of a Force-wielder.

But perhaps he shouldn't. Power wasn't everything, especially with such risks.

He nodded once. "Very well, Yaden. Thank you."

There was now one glowing form near Ludex, which the Force-wielder seemed to be conversing with. He couldn't make out the details, but it seemed to be a male. Of course, he knew that any apparition was an artificial construct; something that Ludex was piecing together from the remains of the minds trapped in the Thought Bomb.

Daniel moved over to where Osoad and Viola were standing and talking. "I don't suppose you've seen that before?" he asked the Keeper of the Maw.

"Not in-person, no," the miraluka said, rubbing his chin, "Utterly fascinating. Significantly more intricate than I had been anticipating, though perhaps I should have expected such from a Force-wielder. Otherwise, it fulfilled the criteria to be described as a Thought Bomb. I will need to speak to Ludex about specific details."

"Oh? For what purpose?"

He smiled thinly. "Research, Skywalker. From what I have learned of these Sith, they have individuals of significant power, and I fear that this will not be the last Thought Bomb we will encounter."

Daniel cocked his head. "And by research…?"

"Master Jedi, one cannot protect against the horrors the Force can cause unless they understand them," he said, "I understand your people are hesitant to delve into the details of such techniques, but we cannot afford that same standard. Rest assured, Skywalker, we know what we are doing, and one day, you may be glad we undertook some…" He paused, glancing upwards. "Controversial methods."

"At one time I would have taken issue with that," Daniel sighed, "Unfortunately… I may have come around to accepting its necessity, even if I don't like it."

"As must we all, Grand Master." Osoad nodded.

Daniel turned to the Emperor's Wrath. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be," Viola said, while watching Ludex, "I am unsure what to expect, but this is my duty, and I will fulfill it. Both of us."

"Yes, I trust him to not make mistakes," Daniel agreed, "He can be relied on for that."

A few more words, and Daniel moved to where Keaxia and Alexander were standing. She held herself and he could see a shiver on her skin. Alexander meanwhile kept his arms clasped behind his back as he and his wife looked to where the Thought Bomb had once hovered.

"This was enlightening, Daniel," Alexander said quietly, "Sobering, in fact. In more ways than one."

"That it is."

"A grim warning, if there ever was one," he continued, "And here I am, about to be given equivalent power to the deities I witnessed committing destruction on an unimaginable scale. The galaxy is not prepared for a repeat of that conflict, Daniel. There has not been warfare like this in the past thousand generations."

"No," Daniel had to agree, "there hasn't. Hopefully that will continue."

"Hopefully, but I remain doubtful." Alexander shook his head.

Keaxia turned to him, her eyes tired and hollow. "There can be no peace so long as she and the others exist."

Alexander nodded solemnly. "It's true. Vathila and the Orders will strike one day – it is only a matter of time. Your Alliance is unsustainable and corrupt. Your leaders are driven by ideology, agenda, and power. It is not a matter of if conflict is coming, but the circumstances in which it does."

Daniel nodded. "Then we will have to be prepared."

"As best we can," Alexander said quietly, "I admit, in all the ways I thought this would happen, I certainly didn't expect it to be like this. Let alone working with you."

He had to smile at that. "I do wonder one thing – when you return, are you not concerned that someone will notice you are different?"

"Daniel, if there is one thing the Sith do not question, it is power," Alexander chided, "I suspect some will notice. However, it is rather impolite to do so. That is the job of spies, observers, and backroom gossip. I have no doubt there will be some… investigation by certain parties. It will just be another move in this game before it all falls apart. Don't worry, Daniel, I know very well the people I deal with."

"So long as you do, then I'll trust you," Daniel said, "Nervous?"

"For this?" He chuckled. "Quite. More than perhaps I should be. However, this is what I am meant to do. This is what I must do to achieve what I intend. Especially considering the threats I know I will face."

It was going to be a balancing act – Daniel knew very well that while Alexander was going to be an ally in the short-term, there was going to come a point where their paths would most likely diverge. Alexander's ambitions and plans were large, and Daniel was uncertain that they could be incorporated into his ideal scenario.

Yet it nonetheless remained better than the alternative. It was important to see Alexander for who he was – an ally, someone who was more aligned to him, and not who he could be. There were bridges to cross and burn when they had to. For now… now he had to take the steps necessary to avoid something worse.

"It is time," Ludex said, addressing all of them, "Gather, and I will begin."

Those who were preparing to take part, including Zerrk and Genevieve, stepped forward, while Daniel, Lara, and Vodal remained behind.

"I'm surprised you didn't volunteer yourself," Daniel told the pureblood.

"Perhaps at one point, I would be eager, Jedi," Vodal said, arms crossed, "However, I have my mission now. My days as a warrior of the Force are over. I have a far grander puzzle to uncover. I know now that I am right, and when I unravel the foundational rules of reality itself, it will make the Force seem trivial. Additionally, I prefer my mind to be my own."

Daniel smiled faintly. "I can understand that."

He felt the Force move and shift as Ludex began the ritual, where the newly-created spirits were to be bound to their new hosts. This was a final threshold now, and once crossed, there would be no going back.

They were committed now.

For better or worse.

---

Storms once more raged on Dromund Kaas, and this one seemed to be the worst in weeks. It was bad enough that an official warning had been distributed to the city, ordering citizens to stay inside. The rural communities had been evacuated to storm shelters, and the streets were desolate as rain poured and lightning struck.

Lestko Beni'vel knew the statistics. They'd been drilled into him since he'd been old enough to understand them. Adults who pretended to be concerned about him, and an overprotective mother who sought to keep her legacy intact.

Don't go outside when it's raining, Lestko, you might be struck with lightning.

Don't go into the wilderness, Lestko, there are dangerous animals.

Don't go beyond the Palace, Lestko, there are dangerous people who don't like you.

No, no, Lestko, you don't need to go to space. It's dangerous outside Dromund Kaas.

Don't go outside.

Don't leave.

Stay in the palace.

Forever.

Here he was, only a few short years until he assumed his place on the Kaas Throne, and became the nominal leader of the Order of Darth Nox. And yet he still felt like he was little more than a child, regulated and controlled at every opportunity. Mother was constantly distracted, more concerned with her rule than making sure he was ready and he knew less about his upcoming enthronement than his 'advisors.' Instead, they seemed more concerned with making sure he was 'educated' which he'd figured out was code for 'saying the right things.'

He'd resisted it at first, but finally just decided to tell them what they wanted to hear. It was for the best that they assumed him to be the useless figurehead they so wanted him to be. Memorization came easy to him, almost too easy, as it made the 'schooling' trivial. It was never anything interesting, just a bunch of thinly-disguised propaganda, royal talking points, and empty promises.

Although, did it matter if he was self-aware or not, if nothing changed?

If he kept his small acts of rebellion to times like now?

It was defiance to be out here right now, dangerous in fact. His clothing was sopping wet, and he pulled the cloak further over his head, in the unlikely event that someone saw him. He doubted anyone would recognize him though, he didn't leave the palace enough for his face to be well-known.

'Preparing the throne,' they said to those who asked. 'Ruling in his stead until he is old enough.' And if they had their way, they would keep ruling – tugging on his strings when convenient. He would be a pretty, professional, and pliant ruler for the coalition that dominated Kaas politics. The Shans were behind it, of course, and he suspected they intended for Carolin to be their 'backup' in case he turned out to be noncompliant.

He sighed in the rain. He liked Carolin. As far as arranged marriages went, it could be worse. One day he might have even married her willingly. But this… this just tainted it. He didn't know if he could trust her to not be used by her Family – willingly or otherwise. Not that he was much better.

It was perhaps the worst revelation of noble politics.

It didn't matter if you knew what was going on, there wasn't anything you could do about it.

In theory.

Definitely not right now. He knew if he started acting noncompliant, well, there would be an 'accident' or 'technicality,' and he would suddenly find himself no longer in line for the throne. Funny how that all worked out. Puppet, loyalist, or ideologue, every ruler fell into one of those three categories. There were no apolitical Princes of Dromund Kaas anymore.

All of it was determinant around the politics of the Noble Families.

Lightning flashed overhead, and he barely paid attention. Thunder rumbled with enough force to shake the ground. It didn't affect his step, as he trudged through the storm. Raindrops bent away from him as the power gathered, instinctively wrapping him in a protective cloak. Only like this did he feel comforted.

The Force was the one thing in his life that was not pretend. The one thing he had sought and learned to control. And he had learned it well, for what good it did him. It meant something to have real power, even if he wasn't sure how he could, or even should employ it. He would find a way, someday, but he still took comfort in this.

"You shouldn't be out here, boy," a deep voice startled him from the side, "I've heard the storms are deadly."

His lightsaber was instinctively in his hand, with the scarlet blade pointed toward the direction of the voice. He'd taken to Makashi as his preferred dueling style, and shifted his body to enter the opening stance of Form II, one in particular for poor terrain. To his surprise, the individual opposite him was…

Well, not what he expected.

Black battle armor and a cloak which fell almost to the ground. A towering monster of a man, who dwarfed even some of the largest soldiers he'd seen. Groomed hair combed back, the color of night. Natural red eyes, filled with amusement. Ruby skin, with fleshy tendrils that grew and hung from the cheeks and chin.

A massassi? Here?

More notable, this was a spirit. The rain fell through him, if the faintly shimmering outline wasn't enough of a clue.

Lestko blinked. "You're a massassi!"

The man smiled. "Not quite, though I admit it is somewhat refreshing for you to notice my species. Most would comment on my immaterial form, but you ignored that. I am not, in fact, a member of the massassi warrior caste – it was long-defunct by my time, I'm afraid."

"But you are of the sith species, no?"

"I am indeed. Impressive that you recognize that, considering my species is long-dead."

"I've learned my histories," he said, not lowering the lightsaber, "I know of the purebloods."

"I always hated that term," the spirit muttered, "Pretentious and meaningless, which I found was quite standard in the Sith Empire. No matter though, that is not relevant."

Lestko caught that word though. The Sith Empire. And there was only one Sith Empire that he'd known about… the one his very distant ancestor had been a part of. If it was the same, then this spirit was very, very old. Unimaginably so.

"Who are you?" he finally asked.

"Darth Vauner, Dark Lord of the Sith, Emperor's Wrath, and likely a few unsavory names that your Order may or may not have called me." The Sith smiled, or rather bared his teeth. "Presuming you know who I am at all."

"I know your name, I know little more," Lestko said, for once trying to remember his lessons. Vauner had been… well, there hadn't been much said about him. He'd fought with Nox several times, but unless there was something more… "It's… good to meet you."

He retracted his lightsaber and hung it back on his hip. Not that it would have done any good against a spirit anyway.

"Likewise, Lestko Beni'vel." Vauner nodded. "And I am going to presume that you should not be out here."

Lestko looked to the palace towering in the background. "No, I'm not."

"How disobedient," the spirit said dryly, "Interesting."

"Why 'interesting'?" Lestko furrowed his brow. "And why are you even talking to me?"

"Because, Lestko, I am on a mission." The spirit began pacing. "It has been thousands of years since my death, and now that I am freed to do as I wish, I have decided that I want to make the time I have matter. Irrelevancy has never suited me, nor peaceful meditation. Jedi are content to fade into oblivion. I am not."

"But…" Lestko frowned. "What do you mean 'time you have'? Spirits are immortal."

"Immortal, not invincible, boy," Vauner corrected with a smile, "There is a difference. You are ignorant of the state of the galaxy, I assume. I suspect you don't even know the Jedi are around. The Galactic Alliance? Fellan Imperium? The Force-wielders?"

Names, only some of which he recognized. He suddenly felt very exposed right now, stripped open in his ignorance.

Vauner raised an eyebrow. "I've heard you are to be enthroned soon. How interesting that you lack even basic knowledge on affairs beyond your own planet."

His cheeks burned red. "I—"

"Don't worry, boy, I know." Vauner lifted a hand. "I've dealt with more Sith than I care to, and Sith politicians in particular I despise. They see you as a figurehead, to enact their various agendas. It does them well to keep you dumb and ignorant, as you are only a conduit to act through their influence, is that not so?"

Lestko blinked.

Vauner noticed. "Ah, so you are aware. Good. You're smart. But not quite smart enough to leverage what you do have."

Lestko scowled. "You know nothing of what you're talking about."

Vauner was unimpressed. "When I became an Apprentice, they pitted students against each other, and the death toll was nearly half. It was as cutthroat as any backroom political dealings. Masters had no qualms about killing their own Apprentices if they displeased them, or innocent ones to undercut their rivals. Trust me, boy, if you were in the Sith Academy, you would be dead right now."

"And how am I supposed to do anything if anything I do would just get me removed or killed?!" Lestko demanded.

"At ease, boy," Vauner said, in a calmer tone, "You are right, it's not the same. I had someone who trained me, and I knew what to expect. You clearly have no one. No one taught you what you needed to know to survive this environment. So as a result, you do not know what to do."

He sighed deeply. "No, I don't."

"But you don't want to be like that." Vauner nodded. "You have ideas, I'm sure. You have a way you would like to do things, yes? Your education isn't wholly useless, I presume."

"Just mostly useless," Lestko muttered, "I know what I want to do. I know what we are supposed to be. What we were founded for. Legacies that have been smeared and twisted to fuel the schemes of the Families. We are insulated on this planet, too focused on our infighting. I want to know what is up there." He nodded to the sky. "The Sith, the Collective Sith, they come here, and I know they just laugh at us. Backwards fools more focused on plotting against each other than the threats in the stars. And they are right to laugh at us. I am the only one who sees this."

"Ah, that is where you're wrong, boy." Vauner took several steps closer. "You are never the only one who thinks something. That is what you are supposed to think. It's a classic tactic to ideologically isolate someone divergent. To make them think they are insane, that they are alone in how they think. Rarely I've found is that ever true."

He pointed to the palace. "I guarantee that there are many of those who live in that building who despise this ludicrous political game being played. They think the same way you do – but they simply are too afraid to speak up. They fear for their lives, or are just cowards. The point, boy, is that your particular view is not one I believe is unique. You simply haven't made an effort to find others."

"And how can I when I don't know who to trust?"

"Through something called 'talking,' " Vauner said, half-amused, "Something I would expect a palace youngling to know. Or maybe you don't know how to read people. Or the idea never occurred to you, did it?"

He was silent.

Vauner shrugged. "Fortunately for you, it's not too late, and perhaps it is good timing. Your big day is coming, and there will be people who wish to curry favor with the new monarch. I don't suppose you regularly attend banquets or dinners, do you?"

"I've always been invited." Lestko shook his head. "Never go. Boring, I hate everyone there, and I can't drink."

"Truly, an unappealing event," Vauner tsked, "And shortsighted. You're never going to be able to change anything if you seal yourself away. Initiative is important."

Lestko eyed him. "Why do you even care?"

"Here is my question to you, boy." Vauner looked down on him. "Do you want your life to mean something? Do you want to accomplish something with your life?"

"Of course I do!"

"Good, now if you remember, I wanted to accomplish something more in this immaterial form. I suspect calamity with befall the galaxy, and I want to have a hand in preventing it in some way." He paused briefly. "I have a few options, but I would prefer to help a young royal in over his head escape his figurehead fate, and possibly even change this world for the better. That is why I am speaking to you in this storm, Lestko Beni'vel. You need an ally, a teacher, and someone you can trust."

He blinked. "You want to help me? Just like that?"

"Yes, 'just like that,' I don't waste time or make false promises." Vauner nodded. "You may not trust me now – which is fair. As such, I would like to use the time to demonstrate my intentions."

"And then… what?" Lestko crossed his arms. "I know spirits can merge with hosts for power. Is that what you ultimately intend?"

"I believe it would be beneficial in the future, yes," Vauner said, "For now though? Too fast, I assume. I wouldn't let someone into my head after one conversation, and I can assure you I would never force someone to carry a spirit with them they don't want to. Speaking from personal experience."

He waited for a second. "The point, ultimately, is that I see potential in you, boy. Potential that is about to be wasted. I did not like Nox when she was alive, but I suspect she would not like this to be her legacy. Not when it can be made into something better. You want to do that. I want to help you do it."

It sounded too good to be true, and thus far his life hadn't really even had much of that. Still, he was hesitant. "And what do you get out of this?"

"I get to see Sith, the kind I despise, humiliated and beaten." Vauner smiled. "That's enough of a reward. Second is that I did not misspeak about calamity coming upon the galaxy. It is, frankly, bigger than you or me, boy. You can play a role in mitigating the damage, if not for those outside your home, then for those who live here. Go on and sense my feelings, you know I am sincere."

And he was. He'd been passively trying to sense the motives of this spirit, not very subtly, but that was perhaps the point. And right now, it appeared that the spirit was telling the truth… difficult as that was to believe.

However, he felt… excited at the prospect. Maybe it wouldn't amount to what he wanted in the end, but right now there was at least something more. "Alright." He nodded sharply. "You have a deal. You help me, and I'll… do what I want to do, for a change."

"Perfect." Vauner seemed pleased. "The storm is letting up. You may want to return before someone comes looking."

Lestko looked at the sky and saw the rain lighten – it was time to head home, even if it would be some hours before anyone came to check. "Yes… and what about you?"

"Don't worry, I'll find you soon enough," Vauner promised, "One last thing – Carolin is on your side. Don't let the marriage scare you." He smirked. "Maybe start with her as your first ally. It has to begin somewhere."

And with that, the spirit vanished into the rain, leaving him alone once again. Although now there was something more, and Lestko turned to make his way back to the palace, now fixated on what he'd said about Carolin. That would be surprising if it was true, but the spirit was right.

He had to start somewhere.

---

"I will admit, Grand Master," Master Tolo Korr said as he and Daniel walked along Tython's outskirts, "I didn't expect to meet you here, or necessarily under these circumstances."

Daniel smiled warmly. "I intended to speak with you eventually, even if circumstances had not brought us together. I was informed of the Padawan you've taken."

"Ah, Numa." Korr stroked his rebreather, the style more blocky than Pon's. "A wonderful girl. She's had a hard life, and I'm hoping to show her there is something better."

"That is all I think you need to do," Daniel said, "She needs someone who cares for her in her life."

"That she does," Korr sighed, "The other Masters are uncomfortable with her, and…" He cocked his head. "I presume you're aware of her unique… gifts?"

"I am."

"I fear that she's going to end up being defined by what she is, not who she is," Korr admitted, "She had been like that for much of her life. The block the Conciliators put in her mind won't protect her forever. I prefer taking her… away from the Temples for that reason. Kids, you understand, they talk. Adults are no better, unfortunately."

"Shameful." Daniel shook his head. "I do not think we need to fear her fall to the darkness, or anything of the sort."

"Grand Master, Numa only wants to be a Jedi. One of the heroes of the galaxy." Korr smiled sadly behind his rebreather. "So many seem to want to deny her that. Out of fear, or disapproval, since she doesn't fit the 'ideal' Jedi mold. And so, I try to keep the worst of it from her. She's a bright girl, but there's much she doesn't know about herself." He looked toward the dusky-skinned twi'lek Padawan who was talking to some of the gathered younglings. "One day she'll know. I'll tell her. But when it's the right time."

"And I'll trust you to know when that time is," Daniel said, "Take care of her. I believe she'll do great things."

"It is appreciated, Grand Master." Korr bowed his head. "Thank you for taking the time to speak to me."

"Of course, Master Korr." Daniel smiled one last time. "May the Force be with you."

"And you as well, Grand Master."

Korr returned to collect his Padawan, and Daniel turned to go find Lara. Luckily, there was no one questioning why the Grand Master was on Tython of all places without warning. After all, he was probably there to investigate the disturbance. His arrival had been surprisingly swift, which might raise some questions.

Questions he could ignore.

Well, it was done.

Yaden had taken everyone back. Alexander and Keaxia were likely returned to the Sith. Vodal was back on Athiss. Ludex and the Quabular were gone as well – at least for now. The pieces had been scattered across the galaxy, and now they lie dormant until called upon at the right time.

The die had been cast, as they waited for a catalyst they had no concept of.

Many possibilities were in their future, many of them dark, but not all. There was hope left to focus on, hope that he had created. Daniel had come to terms with the fact that he might fail in this effort. It was going to be difficult. It was going to be dangerous. There was the lesson Yoda had given his distant ancestor – warning him about trying to change the future, lest he induce it.

Fortunately, he wasn't quite as conservative as the old Jedi. More importantly, he did not believe there was a choice. It was better to try and prevent calamity than accept it as inevitable. They made the futures they sought.

Apathy was death, after all.

Lara stood near an outcropping overlooking a valley with a stream running through it. "I like this world," she murmured as he walked up, "We should come here sometime. When everything is resolved."

"That might not be for a while," he warned lightly, putting an arm around her, "And there's no guarantee we will even have a world to come back to."

"Mm-hmm, perhaps." She leaned into him. "Then we should enjoy it while we can, no?"

"I happen to agree."

They stood there for several minutes, listening to the wildlife and the rushing water.

"Do you think it will be enough?" Lara finally asked, "Everything you've done? The changes you've made?"

"Will it be enough?" He considered. "I don't know, Lara. But I know that we've done everything we can, and because of that, I have a good feeling. We can't predict everything, we can't prepare for everything, but what we can do; what we have done." He smiled. "I think we're in a good place. And I suspect we're going to learn the truth sooner than later."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "Are you afraid?"

Afraid…

At the start of this, he could very well have feared for the future of the Jedi. He feared for the galaxy. Fear was a normal, almost tired reaction to the galaxy they lived in. After everything he'd seen, the calamities he'd witnessed, he should fear what was coming. Everything he'd done was to prevent it, after all.

Right now, though? Fear wasn't quite the right word. Fear implied he was helpless to prevent the future; that it was coming no matter what he did to prevent it. Fear was helplessness, of being incapable; impotent. He did fear he might fail, but he was more confident now.

Now they had a chance.

There were allies to call on.

Friends to rely on.

And change to make. Necessary change that had been denied and repressed for too long.

Darkness descended upon the galaxy, but with it came the spark that would resist it.

"Yes," he said to Lara, holding her tight, "but I know that you, Yaden, Pon, and everyone else will be there with me as it happens."

It did truly feel like they were reaching the end of an era. This age had entered its twilight, and they stood on the precipice of the new one. A phoenix that would arise from the ashes of the old order.

They would face the darkness, they would succeed, and when the dawn finally came, they would build something better.

Daniel wondered how any of his ancestors would have viewed this moment, if they would have made the same choices he did, or come to the same conclusions. Yet in the end, it didn't matter what they would have done. It had come down to him, and the galaxy would bear the consequences of his actions.

He certainly hoped they had been the right ones.

May the Force be with us all.

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TO BE CONTINUED IN "SHADOW OF THE PHOENIX"

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Xabiar's Note: All things come to an end, and this story is not an exception. Short as it may be chapter-wise, this story went through a few changes during its development, with some parts of the latter third being completely different. Overall, the important story beats were the same, but a few details were different. All coming together in one final and complete tale, one which I greatly enjoyed writing.

It's been a while since I was able to mark something as complete, and it feels very good to do so here. Writing this, following and exploring the character of Daniel Skywalker, showing major moments in this reimagined Star Wars universe, writing revelations, and laying the seeds for greater ones… this was one of my favorite projects to work on for a multitude of reasons, and it won't be the last short series I write here.

I'd like to thank SLotH4 for working hard to bring this to a publishable state, for giving his own ideas and direction, and letting me have the freedom to write something like this in the universe he's helped create. It wouldn't be where it is without him, and I'm proud to be a partner in this grand project. Thank you to the people who've read the story and given their feedback. I can promise that there will be more to come in the future – hopefully sooner than later.

SLotH4's Note: Huge thank you to Xabiar for taking the time and effort to put all this out there. It's one of my favorite pieces of Star Wars fanfiction and I'm proud to have been a part of it. I never expected this side project to balloon into what it has, but I enjoyed every word of it and hope you did as well.

Xabiar created a Discord channel for his own XCOM stories and included a channel to discuss "Shadow of the Phoenix" and its related works (such as the various Addenda and SotP Tales). If you would like to join the server and come to the channel to speak directly to us, just use the code NeKH6YF and go to the channel "sotp-discussion."