Disclaimer: I own nothing. Least of all this.

Author's Note: As I'm sure most of you are wondering (one person already pointed it out), there is in fact an age issue at work in this fic. To be specific, the ship of Mara Jade and Cal Kestis. In old Legends canon, Mara is just simply way too young to work into the timeline close to Rebels. However,since Legends is no longer canon, I could just say "Your sandbox; my castle."

But I won't.

Instead, here are some reasons I'm upping Mara Jade's age. One, Vader's dismemberment. With a half-dead Apprentice as his best option, Palpatine was bound to go looking for something stronger. So what if it's a kid? He's had plenty of practice with both Maul and young Anakin. Second, Project Force Harvester; the operation conducted by Inquisitors to gather young Force sensitives and indoctrinate them. If Mara Jade was any younger than what I'm making her here, she would've been way more likely to be snapped up by that than Palpatine himself. Thirdly, it never made sense to me for Palpatine to divide his attention between multiple Hands. If he wants a horde of barely competent Dark Siders, that's what the Inquisitors are for. I mean, the dude was dead set on both Maul and Anakin for years apiece, and even spent a really long time wooing Dooku. Ergo: one Hand, snapped up early, began training not long after ROTS.

I hope that suffices for an explanation.

Also while Revan may look like Keanu Reeves, he talks like Matthew McConaughey. Because while he may look like a stone cold badass, on the inside he's the shifty uncle who thinks if yain't cheatin, yain't trying. Cheers!

2) THE LEAD THAT STRINGS THE HANGMAN'S NAG

"Haar davaabir ret duraan verborir, al'ni rejorhaa'ir bel'ulik cuyir nu."

(A hangman may be above a bribe, but I can assure you his horse is not.)

- Old Mandalorian saying about corruption in government

In the end, there was really only one decision Palpatine could make.

While she may have been a bit on the young side, she was still more than competent. Her success rate paralleled that of padawan-age Anakin Skywalker, and her power was on the same level as Kenobi's had been. True, her lightsaber training had been neglected in favor of more esoteric teachings, but that was easily remedied. He just had to provide her with an instructor not likely to resent her for being promoted over their head.

He knew just the one. And fortunately, he had an assignment on hand (heh, Hand,) that should smooth over any remaining hard feelings in the relationship.

Not that he intended for them to grow too close; such an arrangement had spelt disaster with Vader's last student. One mission, perhaps two, and they would again be separated. But in the meantime, they would learn from each other all that they could.

And who knew? He was in need of a new Grand Inquisitor as well. If Mara Jade could bring Third Brother up to snuff, perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.

A stroke of inspiration struck him, and he sent a quick message from his desk to the Second Sister. She would relay his instructions to Third Brother, and then proceed to carry out her own. He couldn't wait to see the chaos they unleashed with their new positions.

The doors in front of him hissed open, and the last remaining object of his attention slid respectfully into the room.

Mara Jade came to attention the perfect amount of distance before his desk, and then lowered herself onto her knees in deference. "What is thy bidding, my Master?" she said with a bowed head.

"My bidding?" he said with a mock frown (he'd gotten quite good at those over the years). "Is it so far from the realm of possibility that I would request your company simply because I enjoy it, my Hand?"

"Not at all, my Lord. However, you have long told me to be efficient in all things; and a meeting with less than two purposes is no meeting at all."

"How true, how true." He purred. "Well said, my Hand. You do my teachings credit. And it is for that reason I have called you here today."

"I hear, and obey."

"Then hear this, my Hand; from this moment forth, you are Hand no longer. You are now a Sith in name; Dark Lady and Heir to the Line of Bane. From henceforth, you shall be known as Darth…"

The name came to him in a whisper from the Force. "...Jadis. Rise, my new Apprentice."

Jadis did so, her delight and ambition shining in the Force. Yet there was a tinge of anxiety present as well. That wouldn't do. "You worry, my Apprentice. Worry, I think, that Darth Vader shall challenge you for your new position. I am afraid I must ease your worry with bittersweet news, my dear; Darth Vader has been...vanquished."

The incredulous disbelief on her face was far too easy to see.

"I know, my dear; it scarcely seems beyond belief. Yet Lord Vader's demise has undoubtedly occurred; and at the hands of enemies of the Empire."

He felt her rage spike at that. Good. "Your first assignment as my Apprentice shall be to locate these poor misguided souls; but do not attempt to engage them yet. They are no match for the might of the Empire, yet I should hate to lose my new heir in the same manner as the first. Instead, follow their histories. Learn from their pasts. And when you have discovered their strengths and weaknesses, we shall show these miscreants the generosity and mercy of the Empire."

Jadis' eyes were shining with flecks of gold. "It shall be my pleasure, my Lord."

"Excellent. Come," he rose, "Walk with me. I have a gift for you."

"A gift, my Master?"

"Indeed. A ship, in fact. A fine vessel; highly experimental, of course, with modifications befitting Force-sensitive pilots. It's previous owner was perhaps one of the most gifted Force-blind in the Imperial Navy; I highly doubt even our best TIE Pilots could manage to keep up with the changes she implemented. They should be more than within your skill range however, my dear; and if they are not, I have provided you with an instructor until you feel comfortable."

"I'm sure I shall live up to your expectations, Master."

"I'm sure you will as well, my dear. Ah! Here we are."

The ship sat idling in his personal docking bay: it seemed Third Brother had not delayed in the slightest. "There she sits: The Rogue Shadow. A point-three hyperdrive, stealth systems, in-built training facilities, and I am assured the finest armor available from Sienar."

"She's beautiful." breathed Jadis.

"Indeed she is." He wasn't looking at the ship. "However, such a vessel I feel deserves a new name. You are the farthest thing possible from a rogue, my dear; instead, it is my pleasure to hereby gift you with...the Jade Shadow. May it serve you well, when all other ships fail."

The ramp of the Shadow lowered, and Jadis' new instructor marched smartly down the ramp. The Third Brother knelt a tolerable distance from the pair, and bowed his head in respect. "I await your destination, my Lord."

"You will be waiting a long time, my friend," he chuckled, "Darth Jadis is to be your passenger, instead."

If the Third Brother was surprised by the emergence of a new Sith, he failed to show it. "I hear, and obey."

"Gooood." he purred. "You are to convey her with all haste to the planet of Malachor; upon your journey, you are to evaluate her skill with a lightsaber. I have no doubt you will give me a good report on your return."

The implied threat was obvious to Third Brother, but completely obscured to Jadis: make her the best, or else.

He turned to his Apprentice. "The Inquisitorius have long been bereft of direct leadership, my dear. I fear their training in...other matters has not been up to standards of late. A refresher course would not be amiss."

"I understand, my Master."

"Excellent. I shall await your triumphant returns; pray do not disappoint me."

They wouldn't. He had foreseen it. So as he watched the Jade Shadow pull away from the landing pad, his mind was already racing ahead to other matters...and to the meeting with Tarkin, Krennic, and Thrawn he had already arranged.

It promised to be an interesting one.

Ezra awoke to a blinding light.

At least, it felt that way. His senses had been seemingly dialed up to eleven; everything was bright, everything was cold, and everything hurt.

"Owww…" he groaned. "Anyone get the tags on that speeder?"

"Sure did."

Kanan!

"I think they were, 'U, R, D, U, and M'."

"U, R...HEY!"

"What were you thinking?" Kanan growled (and why was Kanan wearing a mask?). "Opening up a Sith holocron; you got extremely lucky, you know that right?"

"No," he tried to shake his head, and then hissed in pain. "No I don't. What happened?"

"How far back do you remember?"

"Well...I put the holocron in...it said I now had 'the power to destroy life', or something like that...and that the only way to deactivate it was a master and student working together. I was gonna come get you; I promise! But then…"

Kanan sighed. "Then you felt what happened on our end."

Ezra nodded gingerly. "I thought you were dying. And, well…"

"You thought sacrificing yourself was worth it if it meant you could stop things. Ezra, you kriffing idiot."

He was on the verge of protest when the last of Kanan's sentence sank in. Had...had Kanan just swore? Kanan never swore. Ever.

"Did you really think Ahsoka and I couldn't handle Maul? Even if I couldn't have made it in time, she certainly could have. You and Maul were able to work together to retrieve the holocron in the first place; do you trust Ahsoka less than him?"

"NO!" Shouldn't have shouted; the room was going blurry again. It swam for a moment, then shimmered back into focus. "No," he said, much more calmly. "It's not that."

"Then what? What could that holocron possibly have promised you to convince you to let it out?"

Kanan knew. Somehow, he knew exactly what Revan had promised: to save Ezra's master. His friend. His family.

"Hey brother, cut the kid some slack."

Ezra jerked his head to the side as Revan materialized on the opposite end of the Phantom.

The strangely no-longer-blue Sith drawled as he lounged on the bunk. "Don't pester him; he's had a hard day."

Kanan went extremely still. "I thought we locked you up."

"Nah brother; just my casing. My bones are still rattling round, as you can see. Or not." Revan chuckled darkly.

Ezra couldn't help it. "Why aren't you blue?" he blurted.

Revan frowned. "Was I before?"

"Yes!"

"Huh. Guess I was mostly dead, then. As opposed to only slightly dead now."

"I'd prefer it if you were all dead." rumbled Kanan.

"Believe me brother, so would I. Spent more than long enough poking my nose in the galaxy's business. But you know how it is; spend a few thousand years stuck in one place, and sooner or later you'll do anything to kill the boredom."

Kanan's voice was as dry as the desert. "Including tricking a kid into being your Apprentice?"

"Trick? Who said anything bout a trick? Every last word I told ol' Ezra here was the Force-honest truth. Not my fault tall, dark, and brooding decided to show up at the worst possible time."

"How convenient. For all we know, you could've called Vader to Malachor."

"Brother, if I coulda called someone to get me off that rock, don't you think I woulda done so a little sooner than a thousand years ago?"

Kanan didn't reply.

"So…" Revan leaned back with his hands behind his head. "Vader, huh. I like it. Name fit him."

"And does your name fit you?" Kanan asked slowly.

"Ought to; I picked it, after all."

Kanan's presence in the Force, which until then had been a carefully controlled irritation, spiked with fear.

"Ah;" Revan grinned. "Put it together then, did you?"

"Darth Revan." Kanan hissed.

"Just Revan, brother; Darth title passed on to someone else a long time ago."

"A Sith is a Sith, no matter how old."

Revan shrugged. "If you say so. Though if I was any kind of a decent Sith Lord, I probably would've stabbed your padawan in the back the minute Vader offered me a job."

"Vader offered you a job?" Ezra squeaked.

"It's what Sith do, kid."

"And it's what you did to my Apprentice." spat Kanan. "Ergo, still a Sith."

"You know what; fair point. Still, didn't take the offer; that's gotta count for something."

Ezra looked at Kanan. "He's right, you know."

"Vader was the Apprentice, Ezra; I have no doubt Darth Revan is more than familiar with how much offers from those are worth."

"Hey, I'll have you know Mee...hold up, that was the Apprentice?"

That brought Kanan up short. "You didn't know?"

"Um, hello! Few thousand years outta date! I just thought he was a Master who got the position by having enough power to compensate for his lack of control!"

"Funny you should mention that…" came the voice of a certain Togruta from the direction of the cockpit, "I'm pretty sure that's how he got the position of Jedi Knight. Then again, what else would you expect from the Chosen One?"

Ezra felt his whole world drop out from beneath him. The Chosen One...Anakin Skywalker?

"...You're telling me," Revan slowly enunciated. "That a Jedi Knight, strong enough to be considered the Chosen One, somehow managed to end up under the thumb of a Sith Master."

"Sith Emperor, actually." corrected Ahsoka.

Without another word, Revan stood, turned to face the wall...and began banging his head into it as hard as he could.

Ezra looked back and forth from Kanan to Ahsoka. "Should...should we stop him?"

"Why? I'm quite enjoying this." smirked Ahsoka.

"You'll have to share the memory with me later." smiled Kanan. "The poetry of this is just sickening."

"Wait…" Ezra's mind was racing. "If I'm here...and Kanan's here...and you're there...WHO'S FLYING THE SHIP?"

Ahsoka crossed her arms. "Chopper, of course."

"Oh. Wait, WHAT?"

Admiral Thrawn was a very cautious person.

So, when every high-ranking Imperial officer sans Darth Vader was summoned to a meeting with the Emperor, he thought it wise to immediately begin...investigating.

The Imperial Security Bureau was nominally under the command of Director Krennic; but there were still quite a few clones among its numbers. Clones whom he had met back in the war, and who remembered him with, if not fondness, respect.

It wasn't long at all before he found what he was looking for: a transmission received by Darth Vader on board the Executor. The contents of the message were unknown, but directly after its delivery Vader had leapt into his TIE Advanced and filed a course for a planet called Malachor.

The Sith Lord had yet to return.

Skywalker was a tough man to kill; it was the only reason Thrawn had not yet ruled out his survival as a possibility. However, it certainly appeared as though the Emperor believed in his Apprentice's demise. The man would certainly never call all three of his remaining top men together unless it were to divide up Lord Vader's duties.

Those divisions and their consequences began to circulate through his mind. The 501st would be reassigned; would the rest of Death Squadron go with them? Or would they fall under the purview of Vader's replacement? Was Vader even going to get a replacement? Tarkin and Krennic's last true opposition to the Death Star was gone; would the Emperor double down on the idea? Or would he choose to explore other options? Things such as the Sun Crusher came to mind; and of course, Thrawn's own TIE Defenders.

Any further speculation had to be put on hold for the moment: he had arrived.

"Announcing Admiral Thrawn." called out the distorted voice of an Imperial Guard. As he followed the soldier into the room, the first thing he noticed was that while Tarkin was already there, Krennic was not. Good. That meant he possibly had an early opportunity to face Tarkin directly in argument, as opposed to the tag-team strategy he was usually forced to defend against.

He strode forward, took his place next to Tarkin, and bowed from the waist. "Your Highness."

"Well met, my friend." rasped the voice of the Emperor. "Rise; we have much to discuss."

"Announcing Director Krennic." Another Imperial Guard marched into the room, the weasel-y looking Director close behind. Krennic, in his never-ending attempt to curry favor, chose to fall to one knee in the middle of his bow. "Your Imperial Highness."

Thrawn had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"And so, we are all assembled then." No claim of friendship for Krennic, apparently. "Leave us."

The Guards did so, with the silent compliance befitting their station.

The Emperor leaned backwards in his throne, and clasped his hands together beneath his jaw. "Darth Vader...is dead."

So. Absolutely no preliminaries. That suited him just fine. Tarkin looked somewhat pleased; Krennic looked stunned.

But he knew it was on him the Emperor's gaze fell. "Some of you have perhaps...anticipated this event. Rest assured, I myself have made preparations should this event ever come to pass. My new Apprentice is already on the field, searching for those responsible. However…"

Here the Emperor leaned forward. "Death Squadron shall not be entrusted to them. Not yet. Admiral Thrawn: congratulations on your promotion. From this moment forth, you are the commander of both Death Squadron and the 501st. Your rank is to be Grand Admiral, with your second to be Admiral Ozzel. Is this...acceptable?"

He nodded. "More than acceptable, your majesty."

"Good. Now, in view of your people's...plight, and the threat beyond the galaxy's edge, more strenuous measures have become necessary. Grand Moff Tarkin."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Your methods thus far have been mostly successful. However, you are needed more urgently elsewhere. Pacification is now of the utmost priority; by any means necessary. There awaits for you a new project orbiting the forest moon of Endor. It is now your highest priority. Anything you require shall be provided, and speedily. This project must be finished within three years. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, your Highness."

"Excellent. Now...for you, Director Krennic."

The Director swallowed nervously. "How may I be of assistance to the Empire, my Lord?"

"The Death Star will soon be completed. Another project awaits you upon that date. However, at the moment, I have need of your intelligence services. My Apprentice is upon the trails of Darth Vader's murderers; assist them in any way they deem advisable. You may begin your investigation with the history of the planet Malachor; my personal vaults shall be opened to you for perusal. Have a care where your mind ventures within them."

"It shall be done, my Lord."

"Go; do as I have commanded. Grand Admiral Thrawn; remain."

There was no mistaking the ire in Tarkin and Krennic's eyes as they passed him; understandable. To be alone with the Emperor was a privilege many would have killed for. To avoid having one's rivals gain said privilege? Well...there were some fates worse than death.

"I have an assignment for you, Grand Admiral. A delicate operation; more so now that the balance of the galaxy has shifted. I wonder...will you be equal to the task?"

He snapped to attention. "I live to serve the Empire, your Highness."

"Yes...yes, I think in your own way you do." The Emperor mused. "Very well. Tarkin's project is to be the construction of a second Death Star. I know you had hopes for your Defenders; and your idea remains meritable. However, they are not suitable for a multi-purpose role at this time. Therefore, I am dispatching you and your command to the Outer Rim."

"...Might I be allowed to inquire as to why, my Lord?"

"To put it simply, Grand Admiral: supplies. We have already leveraged the resources the Empire possesses in the construction of Krennic's creation. There remains now only one group with the necessary qualifications to assist in the making of a second...provided they never learn of its true purpose."

Understanding dawned. "The Hutts."

"Precisely. Our alliances with Jabba and his ilk must be precisely arranged if we wish to preserve them as a shield against those your people face. For should they learn of such enemies, I have no doubt they would abandon ship and flee...perhaps to the Corporate Sector."

"Indeed. I shall see to it, your Majesty. Tarkin's weapon will be constructed on time."

"Excellent. Now; there is...one other purpose for your transfer to Hutt Space. You are no doubt familiar with Project Force Harvester?"

"Familiar enough, my Lord."

"Hmm. It's reach has grown long; very long indeed. However, it has not yet reached the territories controlled by the Hutts. And a Force-sensitive enslaved to the will of someone like Jabba could be disastrous to the Empire. If such an individual were to be freed...I have no doubt they would profess undying loyalty to the Empire for the act."

"I understand, my Lord."

"Gooood. The Second Sister shall accompany you upon your mission; not only will she be useful in the retrieval of potential recruits, but she shall also be quite an asset to you in the web of lies that is Outer Rim politics."

"I am grateful for the assistance." He wasn't; more oversight. But he would take what he could get. And if said Force-sensitive was loyal to him above the Emperor? Well…

It would be only natural.

Tatooine.

Fitting, that Maul should find Kenobi here.

It might not have been where they first met; but it was where their lives had first each touched the other. To think, if he had aimed just a little bit lower with his speeder that day, he might have deprived his Master of a new pawn…

Ah. The past was in the past. It was to the future he must look. Beginning with the destruction of Sidious.

"You are a hard man to find, Kenobi."

The shrouded figure atop the dune never stirred. "That was the general idea."

"Ah! But no longer, perhaps. I'm sure you have felt it: the ultimate demise of your former brother in arms."

Kenobi said nothing.

"Your silence is answer enough." Maul purred. "Tell me; with the Emperor's dread enforcer gone, what shall you do now? I know you would not care to teach again," a flinch from the cloak, "To raise up a new student to face Sidious. And revenge is not the Jedi way. Yet you must agree the Emperor must be destroyed. So Kenobi, I ask: will you assist me?"

"...I cannot."

"Cannot? Or will not?"

"Both. Neither. It hardly matters now. I am a relic of a bygone era, Maul; my help would be of little use to you."

"No...no, that cannot be your reason…" He moved to stand beside the figure.

It was a quiet scene Kenobi was staring down at; a typical desert hut, light streaming from the door. As he watched, a boy emerged from the hut and moved to face the sunsets. Blonde hair; blue eyes. Slight of stature. Utterly unremarkable.

But as the boy walked out upon the dunes, Maul could feel the truth of the matter. "...The Chosen One."

"Yes."

"...You have not trained him?"

"...No."

"No matter; the harshness of the desert is in and of itself an effective teacher." He crossed his arms. "But you must know he will need more eventually."

"And he will. But not from me."

For a moment, they stood in silence.

"...No."

Maul raised his hands in defense. "I said nothing!"

"You wished to train him. That is unacceptable."

"Train? No; no, I know my weaknesses Kenobi. I could not train my brother to withstand Sidious; I shall not try again."

"Then what?"

Maul hummed. "It's been said that experience is the best teacher. I would say that the experiences of others are even better. He will reshape the galaxy someday; perhaps you ought to begin illuminating him as to how the shape that came before this one failed."

"The Republic was far better than the Empire can ever hope to be."

"Perhaps. But I was referring to the failures of the Jedi, rather than the Senate. Both fell, in the end; but only one gave my former Master the noose for their own hanging."

"The clones were Palpatine's from the beginning."

"No...no, Kenobi. First...they were Jedi Master Sifo-Diyas's."

They stood atop that dune for well into the night.

Some moments, they even enjoyed it.